#oof this got really long even when i was consciously trying to keep it short & sweet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mkstrigidae · 4 years ago

Note

from the ask meme abt writing, i have a few questions about your writing process! how do you stay organized with so many pov’s in AWPH? i always wonder what writing app/site fic writers use (word, google docs, etc.), and if it’s not too much, could you show a screenshot of how that looks?

Hi friend! :) I am terribly sorry it’s taken me a while to answer this- life has gotten in the way

Oof- so the answer to that question ‘how do you stay organized’ is probably ‘I don’t’, but I’ll do my best. (this ended up long and fairly disorganized)

About APWH POVs:

For the different POVs, there isn’t really a process I have to choose whose POV is used for what scene- I’d probably be more stern about it if were writing a novel, but because it’s fanfiction, I kind of just go with whatever feels right at the time. There is one thing that’s absolutely deliberate, though- I’ve never written a scene from Petyr’s POV, because he’s the exception to narrative omniscience.

There have been a few instances where I’ve had to switch whose POV i was writing from as I went along, or after I finished a scene- Meeting Jon Arryn is an example from the most recent chapter. Initially, it was from Sansa’s point of view, but Sansa overthinks everything and so it kept going off in all sorts of weird directions and I couldn’t pin it down. Once I started writing as Robin, it got much easier.

The single most difficult thing about keeping all the different characters straight is remembering who knows certain things, and who doesn’t know certain things.

Take this, for example. The two characters closest to omniscience are Oberyn and Sansa, but where Oberyn knows Baelish’s history and can understand certain aspects of his motivation because of years of working on the case and studying him (in addition to a hefty understanding of human psychology), Sansa isn’t always completely aware of how important certain pieces of evidence are, or how relevant certain things are to Petyr’s motivations. The two of them understand Baelish more than anyone else, but in drastically different ways. The biggest thing is that Oberyn is aware of Petyr’s relationship with Catelyn, and how he feels about her, whereas Sansa has no idea about that, and still doesn’t really understand why Baelish took her in the first place (although she’s been doing a repeat speedrun through the five stages of grief throughout the entire thing, poor kid).

But there are basic facts of the story, and then there’s the ‘who knows what’ aspect of it. Someone broke into the Stark’s home in White Harbor and stole Sansa from her bed- this is a fact. But only a few people know who it was that broke in or how it was done. An assassin was hired to kill Petyr Baelish at the airport and failed. The Lannisters know who the assassin is, but Oberyn and Daemon don’t yet.

There are lots of complicated relationships among the characters too- Jon knows more about Robb than any of the rest of them, except maybe Rhae, who only ever shows vulnerability to Willas and Marg, and so the rest of us don’t really get to see her soft side. Arya’s relationship with Catelyn is extremely complicated, and as such, she has a lot of baggage going into meeting Sansa that Sansa has no idea about. Lyanna is aware of what’s generally going on politically, and is working on several important stories that could provide some insight to Oberyn, but they haven’t talked about politics too much recently, because Oberyn’s too busy with the investigation and Lyanna’s busy with her job. There are secrets that Robb has been keeping for an extremely long time, and secrets that Sansa’s keeping without even realizing it. There are a lot of things that were odd or abnormal or red flags in Sansa’s childhood that she doesn’t even realize are odd, because she has no other frame of reference.

In terms of keeping the other stuff straight, I have a page at the beginning of the APWH Master Document (it’s so long dear god), that basically has character names, ages, locations, and time zones written down. I’ve tried making like, character info compilations, but I’m not very good at updating them so I stopped that (although I found a particularly funny bit about the targs in one that’s sampled below).

Generally, I think it’s more important to understand how your characters react to certain situations and their most basic personality traits and values, rather than just having a long list of stats on them, so that tends to be my approach. If I’m worried that I’m about to write something that conflicts with a previous plot point, generally, I’ll go back and skim the story for mentions of them to double check- I’ve reread APWH so frequently that I am genuinely sick of the first five chapters, haha.

Unfortunately, a lot of it tends to just be that I have an extremely good long-term memory for details. The trade-off is a god-awful short-term memory, though. It’s partially the ADHD. I’m on the verge of trying to keep things straight with an excel doc, tho.

The timeline is one of the trickier aspects, so I tend to scribble them out anytime I’m thinking about when and where certain events happened. Generally, I use Sansa’s abduction as year zero, because I do not understand how years work in Westeros and have elected to just use my own- here’s a sample of one I scribbled down the other day when I was trying to figure something out.

(Sorry about the post it notes- those are covering some spoilers! ;D)

About my writing process:

It is…. Not as streamlined of a process as I would like, haha. Generally, I go by chapter. I kind of have a rough idea of what I want to happen in each chapter, and generally that evolves as the story does.

For each chapter, I kind of just bullet point out some things that I want to have happen, and then try my hand at writing some of them. Some of my best ideas happen after this process, though, like the scene where Robb and Sansa find out that Baelish moved them out of the city while Robb was in town to avoid a confrontation. But I have those bullet points, and usually rough chapter titles and rough summaries before the chapters start. (Some things blacked out because of spoilers ;D)

I think that if I waited until I was inspired to sit down and write, then APWH would maybe be done by like, 2070, so I usually kind of sit down and just start writing- some of it is good, some scenes I discard completely, and usually, once I hit on something that works, the plot flows where I want it to.

I generally know how I want the chapters to start, based on how the previous chapter ends (My writing time for them usually overlaps bc it’s a natural continuation). Once I figure out roughly how I want the chapter to end, though, the whole thing starts coming together, and it’s easier for me to figure out what doesn’t belong in the middle, and what might be missing.

I started using one master document on word, because I swear to god I did not intend for this story to turn into the behemoth that it is, and that lasted for about twelve chapters before I realized that the damn thing was 368 pages of tiny font (I don’t double space my lines when I write bc I like seeing as much of it as I can). So I’ve switched to individual word docs for each chapter as of chapter 13, and used google docs to share the chapter with the wonderful @nowmywatch-begins who was kind enough to beta read the thing and remove the excess of commas I tend to use. I use color coded highlighting to indicate different things- turquoise means I want to go back and rework something, green means I need to check to make sure something doesn’t conflict with something I wrote previously, yellow is for sections that I might not want in that chapter and might need to move, etc. Anything I end up discarding goes in a section at the end of that chapter labeled ‘outtakes’. I used to have a lot of trouble rewriting things because I hated to get rid of them, so this circumvents that particular issue. I get to keep what I wrote, while still improving the story by being willing to throw out certain parts.

I write out of order frequently so I keep a separate document called ‘APWH- Bits and Pieces’ that I use whenever I’m doing something like that- it acts as sort of a holding tank for these scenes until I feel like they fit in the story. I also just keep random notes in there, questions that I think need answering, random sentences that just come to me, ideas I’ve jotted down when an idea sparks, etc. There’s a lot of stream of consciousness kind of stuff because I tend to process ideas by writing them down, and so I have stuff like ‘okay so what if Lysa did X and Petyr was here and does Sansa have a college scholarship???? Is the Braavosi prison in the northwest or the south? Why is Westeros still a monarchy? do the tabloids follow the royal family like in britain???’

Like, I have the ending for APWH written, but it’s fairly disjointed, and i think I’ll be able to flesh it out more as the story goes along. I like having a general idea of where I’m going with my writing, but I also will modify those ideas frequently as I go- sometimes the characters really do write the story for you.

This is probably not very organized, and waaaaay longer than you wanted, but I hope this answers your question!!! Thank you for the ask! :)

#APWH #APWH spoilers #my writing process #this is a long ass essay of me rambling #my writing process is abhorrent I am sorry #I am not an organized person here #Anonymous #ask answers

11 notes · View notes

martelldoran · 4 years ago

Note

Hey hey 🤗🤗 okay 10, but give me a drabble about it (please and thank you, dearest)

10. Mutual pining or enemies to friends to lovers?

Bec! Oof okay. Let’s see. A challenge. A gauntlet laid down before me. Me, who cannot write anything short to save herself? You rascal.

Aha. And boy did I fail. This stream of consciousness ended up being so long. It’s not even really a drabble. It’s a tumblr post masquerading as five headcanons in a trenchcoat masquerading as a fic. Or something. I don’t know.

Enemies to friends to lovers with a dash of mutual pining? Let’s go!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Okay, picture the scene. Bucky’s the slick corporate lawyer. Steve is the harried, overworked avocado at law a la Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson. He works out of a crappy office with broken A/C that keeps dripping on the carpet and spends his time fighting against exactly Bucky’s brand of arsehole. But then, of course, for hand wavy plot reasons they’re assigned the same case. The horror.

And it is awful. They hate it. Bucky takes one look at Steve’s office, wrinkles his nose and makes some backhanded comment that gets Steve’s hackles up. And Steve wants nothing more than to smack this perfectly coiffed prick in his perfect teeth and maybe rumple up that stupidly expensive suit of his. They try to get out of it. They try every trick they know. Bucky tries to pass the case to Natasha but she refuses.

“It’s a conflict of interest,” she says and Bucky wants to shake her.

“How?” he cries, drawing stares from all around and Natasha smiles her coy Natasha smile as she reapplies lipstick, using the back of a spoon as a mirror.

“Oh, because I’m sleeping with your client.” [the client is Clint, of course.]

So they’re stuck with each other. Steve thinks Bucky is pretentious, self-serving, and everything wrong with the legal profession and Bucky thinks Steve is a self-righteous martyr who’d rather take on yet another bleeding heart than make rent. But they’re professionals. They can put aside this pettiness for the sake of their client. Right?

Well, sort of. It turns out that they end up working really well together. Bucky has the connections and Steve knows just about every legal loophole in the book. They make a damn good team, the opposition doesn’t stand a chance. And god, isn’t frustrating that even when they’re arguing at 11pm about the best course of action on the case, Bucky looks that good with his tie loosened and shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows.

But simmering underneath it all, there’s a begrudging respect. Bucky can see that Steve does what he does because it’s the right thing to do and it’s coming from a place of genuinely wanting to help people, and he starts to think that maybe he misjudged him, and that maybe treating the law like a game to win isn’t serving anyone’s best interests but his own.

Then after a particularly gruelling day in court, they get a drink because, fuck, they’ve been working themselves to the bone and, “It’s been a ball ache of a day, Rogers. Let’s just go blow off some steam because if I have to go back to your ratty office, I might off myself.”

They drink at a bar that’s too expensive for Steve’s taste but at least they have the beer he likes and, hey, it turns out the company isn’t that bad either. Bucky can be utterly charming when he wants to be and when he leans into Steve’s space to make some snarky comment about a mutual colleague, there’s a spark in the air that wasn’t there before.

And if they happen to fall into one another in the back of the cab on the way home? And if they happen to trip and fall into bed? Well, that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. For us, I mean. They’re mortified. So caught up in the moment, they don’t stop to think, but once they’re lying next to one another in the dark? All they can do is think.

“This never happened,” Steve says, pants half on and shirt still unbuttoned.

He’s frowning something terrible. He didn’t mean to do that. But then Bucky had leaned across in the back of the cab, goading him, practically daring him and looking up at him from under those long lashes of his. And when the tip of that pretty pink tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, Steve was a goner. He lost time. He fell off into a delicious darkness that was filled with all things Bucky.

There’s nowhere to run after that. They can’t leave their client high and dry, not when they’re so close to the end of the case. They’ve worked too hard to hand it off to someone else. But god is it awkward. All Bucky can think about is the fact that Steve has bruises on both his shoulders, hidden by his creased shirt. They’re there on his stomach too. And sucked onto his inner thighs. All he can think about is the way Steve’s fingers bit into his back and left tiny, stinging cuts that seared when he stepped into the shower for the first time.

Do they acknowledge any of this? Ha. No! They push through the case, stiff and overly polite and everybody notices the shift in dynamic.

“You fucked him,” crows Natasha. “And now you’ve caught The Feelings.”

And Bucky can’t deny it. Except Steve said that it ‘never happened’ and he changes the subject any time Bucky tries to bring it up again.

The case goes in their favour and in the high of the win, they’re beaming and hugging before they can stop themselves. Suddenly so much closer than they’ve been in weeks. All Steve can smell is Bucky’s expensive cologne, the toffee scented gum he uses to style his hair, and, under all of that, the smell of warm, salt sweet skin. He almost loses all his resolve in that moment. He’d kiss him right there in the courtroom if he could, in front of Peirce and Fury and Clint, but he holds back - extracts himself with a gruff, “Well done” and a clap on the shoulder.

There’s no reason for them to see one another now. And Steve kind of hates it. he misses the way Bucky would strut around his tiny, scruffy office as if he owned the place, how he’d slather on the charm so thick with the administrators and secretaries that you could rot your teeth on it but it meant they always got the forms they needed, the deadlines could always be pushed back just a little bit further, and “If there’s anything else you need us to do, Mr Barnes, you just let us know.” Bucky pushed him to be a better lawyer, to see things from a new perspective.

It’s as he’s moping about this and debating whether he should go home and eat or buy takeout for the third time that week that Bucky appears in the door of his office; tieless, collar open, shirt sleeves rolled up, and suit jacket crumpled in one hand. His eyebrows are pinched together and he can’t seem to stand still. All the air has been sucked from the room. Steve can’t breathe and he’s pretty certain it’s not from the asthma.

“I can’t stay away from you,” Bucky says. It’s half-choked, hoarse, and framed almost like a question - like he can’t work out why he’s found himself here in Steve’s office with the steady drip, drip, drip of the broken A/C in the background.

“Then don’t,” Steve rasps, pulled taut and fighting the tug to close the gap between them.

But Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice and he crosses the room in three long strides to crush their mouths together. The kiss is hot and hungry and more than a little desperate. It’s downright bruising. But they like it. They like it a helluva lot.

Right. I’m ending this here because this is getting out of hand. I spent far too long on this - well, whatever this is. *facepalm* I have zero chill.

#bec #i've got mail #my writing #fics #kind of #lol #stevebucky #sorry to whoever decides to read this #darter blue

30 notes · View notes

lordsireno · 4 years ago

Text

RvB - Skeletons in the closet still have flesh

Pairing: Implied developing Tuckington, mentioned DocNut

Warnings: Blood, Injuries, Illness, slow burn, No ending

Summary: Tucker comes home to find an injured and wanted man hiding in his cupboard, and finds himself unable to turn him in to the authorities. He now has to support the criminal and his half-alien son on his shitty night job, as well as deal with all his acquaintances sticking their noses in.

((Welcome to my 5000ish word notfic that inspired my almost-human Junior design. night-inscriber this was a long time coming. Sorry to anyone who doesn’t have a working read more oof ))

He’s running. His entire body is burning, and his mind is screaming at him for running up into an apartment building of all places. Adrenalin is helping him ignore the blood soaking his shirt, or the unusual bend in his leg, or how his left arm dangles at his side. At the next exit the stairs give way to a long hallway, dirty and unsuspecting. He moves down it, stopping when at the end a mirrored set of stairs open up. He takes a moment for a deep breath, and immediately regrets it as the likely several broken ribs halt his lungs. He doubles back, only to see a door numbered ‘609’ wide open, and small child standing in the hallway, pointedly staring at the drops of blood he’d left behind. The kid looks up and grins at him, and he barely has time to do a double take at the amount of sharp, pointed teeth they have before he hears movement in the stairwell.

He ducks into the apartment, finding himself in the living room, one door into a likely bedroom to his left and a kitchen to his right. The child follows him in and closes the door behind them as the thunderous footsteps got louder. There are two doors in the kitchen, so he picks the closest and throws himself inside, landing in a cupboard full of clothes and spare household items. Its spacious enough that he could probably just lay down, and sitting hunkered in the corner his head only just brushes a shelf. The child steps up to the door, so he puts up a finger in a ‘shush’ motion, to which they gleefully return before closing the door.

In the darkness he stifles his breath, trying to disappear. The walls are thin, so he clearly hears a group break off at the stairs and march down the hall. Their armour adds to the weight of their steps, but they’re not loud enough to cover the sound of safeties being switched. The steps de-sync as some stop and some still move. There’s a resounding crack that echoes in the apartment as the front door is kicked open, and the click of a gun being put at the ready.

“Anything Private?”

“Uhh, just some freaky kid eating jam sir!”

There’s further grumbling, before the collection of voices goes quiet. A few more cracks sound out as other doors are kicked, the stomping gets further and further away. What feels like minutes pass as he waits for the sound of their return, but there’s only the creak of the probably broken front door closing, and the soft padding of bare feet back to the cupboard door. When it opens, the blinding light turns the kid into a silhouette, so he squints to focus. The bright aqua eyes become clear first, slit pupils darting about as they look him over. His dark skin and short brown hair contrast against the bright greens he’s dressed in, but he can’t take in more details as the child darts away.

His injuries weight on him, the aches holding him down. He has to keep moving, but giving it a few minutes to let the hunting group move on begins to sound like a nice plan. He didn’t even realise his eyes had closed until the light in the cupboard changed again, and he forces them open. The child holds something out, a handful of gauze.

“…hu, thanks?”

“Blar-h!”

The grin returns, exposing the lines of the child’s lower mandibles and countless pointy teeth. The closest thing he could match it to was the face of a sangheili, but he didn’t care to dwell on why a child looked like that. He pressed the gauze to the holes in his chest, and reasoned for just a few minutes rest before he’d move on.

..........

After a long day at work, the last thing Tucker had wanted to see was a fully armed SWAT team hanging out in front of his apartment building.

Sure, out on the edge of space this shitty colony, built on an equally shitty rock was exactly the palace that attracted the dangerous kind of person. And those dangerous people would get up to the kind of trouble that would require particular force, but why did it have to be by his house.

They don’t try to stop him entering, just giving him a look over as he ignores every other antsy resident and goes directly to his front door. Which, to his gut-wrenching horror, is slightly ajar and barely on its hinges.

“Junior?”

Everything is quiet. He can’t help but reach for the knife on the back of his belt.

“Junior, kiddo?”

The door shifts awkwardly as he pushes in, and the first thing his eyes fall on are the red drops on the carpet-

“Junior?! Answer me buddy.”

“Grah!”

He relaxes as he spots his son, charging him arms outstretched, jam still in hand and all over his face.

“Geesus don’t scare me like that. What happened to the door? And what’s all this mess?”

He grabs Junior around the waist before the boy’s sticky fingers could get to him.

“Really? What have I said about eating from the jar?”

With a sigh he carried Junior into the kitchen, sitting him down by the skin and prying the jar out of his hands. Dampening a cloth, he begins rubbing away the mess from the small, four fingered hands. Then he feels metal against his neck.

“Don’t move.” A hand fumbles for the knife on his belt, freeing it after a few seconds. “Is this the only weapon on you?”

“And people call me out for being too handsy.”

The knife pressed harder.

“I’ve bled through the bandages your kid gave me. Where do you keep more?”

“Bathroom.” Tucker jerked his head back towards the closest door, thankful to pull away from the blade at the same time, “That door behind us.”

The person behind him is close. Close enough he can hear laboured breaths, the warmth blowing past the top of his head. For the longest moment, no one moves.

“Uh, you want me to grab it?”

“No. Just, don’t move.”

The knife and body behind him pull away. Tucker can’t help but glance over his shoulder at the stranger in his house. The man was clearly a head taller than himself, even as he hobbled towards the bathroom. Blond and grey hair was cropped military style, and his skin was littered in scars which made channels for the blood to travel as it dripped from his wounds. Despite the amount of blood which he’d clearly lost, the look in the man’s eyes was still one that showed he was ready to fight. He stepped carefully into the bathroom, still eyeing Tucker cautiously the entire time.

With a small sigh, Tucker returned to cleaning the jam from Junior, having accepted that so long as the mas wasn’t trying to kill either of them, he could live with some criminal stealing his first-aid. Junior himself seem whole unfazed by the situation, humming softly as he looked around the room.

“You’re a lil trouble magnet, aren’t ya?”

“Grh?” The boy tilted his head.

“Cute eyes won’t save you. Don’t take in strangers, it’s a bad habit to pick up.”

As he moved to wash his own hands, the bloodied man re-emerged from the bathroom, bandaids and bandages covering any open wounds.

...............

-Tucker quickly finishes cleaning Junior. When Wash exits the bathroom, he’s clearly having trouble breathing and asks for a moment, falling to his hands and knees (junior licks a cut on his head, Tucker berates him licking strange blood), eventually he managed to drag himself away. Tucker laments about having to clean the blood.

-Tucker hears the SWAT return from his window, and against his better judgement, he goes and finds the man slumped in the stairwell. He drags him back to the cupboard.

-The SWAT come to his apartment, questioning. He’s cleaned most of the blood, and they thankfully don’t go hunting through all of the rooms. They show him a picture of the suspect, and hand a phone number to report to. He does his best to show no recognition of the picture even if the version he’d seen was covered in blood and bruises.

-Once he regains consciousness, Tucker asks the man what he did, seeing how he was in no shape to fight, but Wash just says he knows things they don’t want him leaking. He wanted to get to a trusted source so the info could get to the correct authorities. Seeing the amount of blood loss, Tucker guesses the man won’t last the night. He moves away, and Junior gets in close, licking the larger chest wound. The man is kinda terrified of the half alien, but suddenly sees the wound clot. Tucker returns and offers aspirin or alcohol for the pain, then berates Junior for licking the stranger again. He leaves the two items with the man and moves off.

-He goes downstairs only to find the building in lock down as they hunt the suspect. He complains about what he’ll feed his kid, and they throw him two rations.

-He returns and watches the man from the corner of his eye, seeing as he’s teetering on the edge of consciousness. He ends up sharing the last of his food with the man after Junior tries poking some at him.

-The lock down lasts for most of the day, so he has to call into work just in case he can’t leave. He checks on the man every few hours, and is honesty surprised he isn’t dead from blood loss. He sits and tries to get a bit more information from him, but all he says is that his ribs are probably broken and he’s struggling to breath. Tucker knows there’s no way to get him to doctor, and he doesn’t have the money for a home visit.

-Tucker leaves for work in the evening once lock down is over. He leaves a glass of water and reluctantly puts Junior in charge of watching the house, to which the child trills.

-At work he meets Donut, who says that the lock down was because of a crazy ex-military guy on the run. When Tucker questions the crazy part, apparently the guy escaped from a mental institution on the far side of town. Dread sets in at the information, only soothed by how immobile the guy was. Then he asks about Donuts boyfriend, who was nicknamed Doc. Donut doesn’t know exactly how much medical training he finished but he knows some things. Tucker says he’s got a case who can’t leave the apartment. Donut says he’ll bring him over, and even bake something for him and Junior, questioning what the kid eats.

-When Tucker gets home, Junior is asleep outside the cupboard, a defence line of toys set up. Tucker puts him to bed. Then he checks on the man.

….

“He was adamant he had to guard me.”

“Is that so? When did you learn the growl language?” The man’s face twisted with some amusement. Tucker lent on the door frame, staring down at the man. “Listen, an acquaintance knows a guy who might have some medical know how, but before he gets here, I need to ask you something.”

“Mmh?”

“They’re saying you escaped from the loonybin.”

“Oh, so they choose to disclose that.”

“So it’s true?”

His face distorted, either from the conversation or how he tried to readjust himself.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well I’m not going anywhere, and you’re certainly not going anywhere.”

His chest shuddered as he tried to take a full breath.

“Well?”

“I’m not going to fly off the rails and attack you if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“That’s part of it…”

The conversation didn’t continue, and the man’s face warped in further discomfort, his breaths rapid and shallow. With a sigh. Tucker closed the door, wedged a chair in front of it, and went to bed for a few hours rest.

.............

-Tucker wakes up to an eager Junior and a text from Dount saying they’d be around soon. He makes breakfast and ignore the jammed door. When Dount arrives he scoops up Junior, and Doc from over his shoulder makes a curious remark about the alien hybrid. Tucker ushers them inside and Dount brings out the banana bread.

-When Doc questions about the patient, Tucker makes them swear not to overreact or freak out, all while moving the chair to block the front door. He opens the cupboard and the two look in, Doc being mortified at the sight. Dount guesses that it’s the guy the authorities have been hunting, and Tucker admits to that.

“Why haven’t you turned him in?”

“I’ve been avoiding asking myself that.”

-He forces Doc to check him over, else he’ll lock him in there too. Tucker and Dount chat in the meanwhile.

-Eventually Doc moves away, looking quite shaken, and says he’s got a prognosis. Broken ribs, extreme blood loss, bruising and swelling (and possibly breaks/fractures) to the right forearm, left knee, collar bone and face. Even if he gets his strength back, nothing will heal right without a trip to the hospital. Which Tucker reiterates he can’t afford, nor would bringing in a criminal do any good. Doc asks why he hasn’t turned him over to the authorities. He looks to the phone number, then back to the broken man in the cupboard, who squints out at him from a black eye that’s gotten darker.

“Again, what can we do for him? No hospitals.”

Doc sighed, “Uh, well we can splint the possible breaks, use ice to bring the swelling down, and make sure he eats and drinks. Rest will be best cure and the way to keep his pain down.”

“We’ll do that then. I’ll go find something for splints.”

Tucker moved away. Donut just gave a small shrug and turned to Junior, looking to entertain the child away from the possible criminal. Doc frowned, reluctantly moving back to the closet.

“Now before I give you anything, I need to ask if you’re allergic -”

Suddenly there’s a knife near his neck, and despite being held in the swollen hand it was barely shaking.

“Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to cut me open and get this shrapnel out of me.”

“I’m what?!”

Doc froze, terror surging through him. He didn’t doubt the injured man could kill him on the spot, and the fact he was asking him to perform surgery, in a cupboard, was not and more reassuring.

“I doubt the other three want to see harm to you, or that you want to watch me hurt the others.”

“I really don’t, but what you’re asking-“

The knife pressed harder.

“Alright alright uh…”

Doc moved his large first aid kit closer, twisting to look through it once the knife was removed. This was beyond anything he’d ever tried, but with a threat against himself, Donut, Junior and the idiot who was sheltering the criminal, he felt he only had one choice.

“I’d suggest biting down on this. And please try not to stab me while I’m working.”

He passed him a roll of bandage, which he took and placed in his mouth, before bracing himself. Doc slipped on the latex gloves and fished out the long tweezers and scissors, eyeing the sharpness of the latter. Scalpels were not a staple of kits, but he wasn’t too sure scissors would do the same job. He eye’d the knife still in the man’s hand.

“…You don’t happen to have a clean one of those?”

He got a look back of ‘Seriously?’, but after a moment he did pull out another from beside himself, perfectly clean with a bright aqua handle. Doc nervously took the knife but masked the shaking of his hand by moving swiftly to the wound. The shirt he’d been wearing was damaged, so he cut it away to expose his whole chest. There were a few clear entry wounds, and a few spots that were too covered in blood to clearly tell. Doc took a deep breath and got to work.

...............

-Donut notices the pained noises from the closet and leans in to help, a bit freaked out and confused, but understanding. As he plucks the twisted metal out the man passes out. Donut has to thread the needle as Doc is shaking, more blood leaking out again.

Tucker is mortified at the sight, then pissed that the man threatened Doc, and then worried about all that blood again. They splint what that can and leave him be. Donut says he really needs to think about what he’s doing with the criminal. He and Doc leave, and Tucker spends the rest of the day wondering.

Two nights later the man manages to drag himself out to the bathroom and changes his bandages.

Finding the man properly awake the next day, Tucker asks for recompense. He’s quiet for a moment, before saying that once he can move, he can play guard dog, protecting him and his son, as well as looking after the house. Once he’s able to leave and find his contact he says he can offer monetary repayment. Tucker stares at him, knowing he could get that from the bounty. But something stops him so he nods.

Things don’t improve as the man’s condition suddenly goes downhill. He shows symptoms of phenomena, and Tucker is now digging further into him life savings to try get him some antibiotics. During the haze of this time Tucker learns some more about the man, mostly through delirious muttering and trying to stop him for screaming. He hears the man call himself Washington, but then catches the name David as well. Other people are mentioned, and some are screamed for, but out of it all Tucker is more confused about the whole situation.

Miraculously Wash takes a turn for the better, and even starts breathing better.

Time continues, until Tucker is approached at work.

“Hey, your place is on the north side, right?”

He laments how ex-military types seem to drift towards each other in this colony, but it is a good place to just disappear. He thinks how even ignoring the man’s size, he doesn’t know how Grif lasted even one day in the military. Turns out he’s asking because there’s some work out north, but he wanted a place to crash that was closer.

“And let you anywhere near my fridge? Yeah right.”

“Oh ha ha.”

He actually offers to pay to stay, since the job should pay well. Tucker is torn since money is tight while feeding an extra mouth and buying bandages and painkillers.

“How long?”

“A few days a week, but it’d just be to sleep. I’ll be outa your hair any other time.”

He agrees. The first night he shows up its fine, he tells him to keep quiet not to wake Junior, shows him the bathroom, and tells him not to go in the cupboard else he be buried in trash. Grif says he can relate.

The second night is fine too, and Grif is out like a light and leaves as soon as his alarm goes off. The third night comes around, but Grif is restless. Tucker is on night shift and Junior is growling in his sleep. He gets up and cheekily checks the fridge, feeling rather sorry at the small selection. As he resigns himself to just lie, he spies light from the closed bathroom. He holds as still as he can, listening. It’s all quiet, and he wonders if he just left it on. He holds for a few more seconds, before the bedroom door opens and Junior emerges. He trudges into the kitchen and makes a demanding grunt. After a lot of grumbling Grif correctly fetches a cup for water with a straw, the they both return to bed. The next day Tucker notices the Wash use the bathroom during the day. And he suggests a lock on the fridge. “I fucking knew that fat-ass would go looking.” Tuckers secret guest stays hidden for the time being.

-While on shift, Grif realises his wallet is gone, which contains his ID and legal papers. Unable to skimp on work again, he asks Simmons to go fetch it, because it’s still probably under the couch pillow at Tuckers. Having managed to drag himself to said couch, Wash entertains Junior while Tucker is out. He hears someone approaching, their steps uneven as there’s more weight to one side. Going on alert he puts himself next to the door with Junior. The person stops, knocks and calls out, and then just opens the door whispering ‘wallet’. Wash puts a knife to his neck the moment he steps in and Simmons freezes, arms raised.

“Ohshitohgeezpleasedonthurtme!”

The knife is a steady weight, but shifts slightly.

“It’s quite rude to just burst into someone’s home. What are you doing here?”

“G-Grif sent me. H-he left his wallet.” A finger cautiously points to the couch.

“Grif. Figures.”

“You know- OW.”

Momentarily forgetting the knife, Simmons looked down to find the strange child who kicked him in the shin.

“That’s was uncalled for you little bastard.”

“Thanks for the support Junior. Now are we going to have a problem here?”

Simmons turned his head fully, catching a look at the man.

“Who are you?”

“That’s on a need to know basis. And you really don’t need to know.”

“Wait, you’re not that crazy ex-merc that the military is after, are you? Dount said something about him being around here.”

“Junior, remind me to kill the guy in pink next time I see him.”

“Blarg!”

“Kill?!”

“I’m in every mind just to kill you as well. Though I don’t want to cause Tucker any more problems…”

“I won’t say anything I swear! Nothing at all! I came in, got the wallet, and left!”

Wash stares him down, then narrows his eyes, putting the knife up to the left side of Simmons face, almost in his eye.

“Who stores your optical data?”

“You can tell?”

“Who?”

“Th-The UNSC provided the hardware, but my boss Sarge handles the software and upgrades. All his own development, stored locally and wiped daily.”

(AFTER HERE WE ENTER IDEA LAND. NOT ENDING WE SUFFER LIKE REAL FIC WRITERS.)

Wash notices Tucker is injured, and skipping meals and how Junior hardly gets time with his dad, and the guilt sets in. He didn’t ask to be sheltered and cared for, but he had been imposing for quite some weeks.

The next time Donut visits he says he’s going to turn himself in, but he wants someone to claim the bounty and give it to Tucker. Donut berates him, asking why he thinks Tucker didn’t turn him in in the first place. Wash can’t answer, so Donut says hes caused the trouble so he needs to pay for it. Find a way to pay him back.

.......

(Plot thread A - The Church AI)

Wash is in the Bathroom when he hears two sets of heavy and fast footsteps, and as always he goes on high alert, until the door slams open and someone shouts “Hey looser!” to which Tucker shouts back “Oh for fucks sake, it’s headache 1 and headache 2. Can’t I just have one relaxing day to myself?”.

The strangers must be 'friends’ as someone starts talking about 'stupid tucker’ and saying how he looked like shit. Wash peered out to get a look, only to freeze at the hauntingly familiar face of one of the intruders. He loses his footing, the thump startling the guests. When they ask what that was, Tucker says it’s a guest who’s been renting his couch, and that he better check on them. Inside he finds Wash pale and wide eyed. He asks what’s wrong, and Wash asks back how he knows those people. “What, Church and Caboose? We were in the same squad for a while. Why, you know them?”

He knows Church, Leonard Church. Technically, he knows several Church’s, but he’s uncomfortable at the sight of this one. Against better judgement he exits the bathroom and marches right up to Church, staring him down. Church comments on the type of weirdos Tucker is letting in his house. Wash stares hard and realises the man in front of him is synthetic, fake in the same way Simmons left side was. And when he doesn’t show to recognise him, he asks;

“Which one are you?”

“Which what? Tucker who the hell is this cryptic bastard?”

Tucker tries to pull him away.

“Does the word Alpha mean anything to you?”

“Uh, I was stations at Blood Gulch outpost Alpha when I met these two idiots.”

….....

(Plot thread B - The military’s interest in Junior)

-Tucker gets a letter in the mail, and immediately sours at the sight of the UNSC stamp. Wash asks if it’s another bill, and Tucker jokes he’d rather it be. It is a reminder of Juniors 6 monthly check up, to monitor the growth of the unique hybrid. Junior growls at the mention.

“Yeah, I know you hate it too.”

Wash is wary that the UNSC is keeping tabs on Tucker, but when he tries to press the why it’s clear he doesn’t feel comfortable talking about it. The trip and testing take a whole day, and near the end Junior has fallen asleep in Tuckers arms. The doctor comes along and says the blood results have come in, and the higher office wants to try some hormone injections to try even out Juniors growth. Experimental of course and done over several days. Tucker refuses, saying they’re both tired and if Junior isn’t in immediate danger then he doesn’t want to do more harm. The doctor stares him down, but eventually relents. It’s late when he returns, so he puts Junior to bed and goes hunting for food.

“How’d it go?”

He has a small laugh at Wash being in the closet again.

“What, it’s comforting.” Tucker makes him scoot and they both sit together.

-Then it’s finally Wash’s turn to ask why Tucker never turned him in, Tucker admits it’s not quite clear. However, what he does know is that when he first saw him, he related to him. Scared for his life, up against the military, but still fighting to live on. It was how he felt when the military started treating him and Junior as experiments. He says he was offered a job as an ambassador, the cliche 'sire of a hybrid to bridge peace and understanding’. He ran from it in fear they’d both just be used as puppets in military and political affairs. But now he wonders if it would have been better, to live in comfort and shelter, a proper education for Junior and connection to his alien heritage.

(That was a cute end point, but never enough self indulgence)

-Wash’s paranoid nature is a God send at times. He starts noticing regular and unusual foot steps, often before or after Tucker leaves, until one day they are way too close for comfort. One set stops at what are the stairs down, and the other lighter set comes right up to the door. Wash hides Junior in the cupboard and puts himself behind the couch. The mystery person knocks, waits, and then enters. Peering out the man doesn’t look at big of a threat, save for the gun, knives and arrogance in his stance. He mumbles something about a 'brat’, so it’s clear he’s after Junior. Wash watches him as he surveys the room, then checks the bedroom. He’s in two minds of trying to fight the man, who likely has backup outside, or to run. The main window is in the kitchen and is thankfully on a fire escape, but is locked and would have to be broken. He justifies Juniors protection over the window cost. While the man rifles through the bedroom, grumbling, he moves as stealthy as possible to fetch Junior, quietly opening the door, kneeling and lifting his slinged arm up, Junior getting the idea to climb up onto his chest. The man exits the bedroom just as he adjust Junior, so Wash pivots, throws a chair and dives out the window. He jumps to the external ladder and aims to get out as fast as possible. The intruder swears and shouts for his partner. His leg is still stiff from disuse, and with only one arm he teeters one to many times for Juniors comfort. When he hits the ground, he spares a moment to look up, and sees the intruder following down, before a sniper shot gets much to close for comfort.

(Plot thread C - Wash tries to get his information out)

-Finally able to move, Wash goes hunting for a contact. He knows most probably went underground while he was being hunted but goes to find one locally now the heat is off. Unfortunately he finds Maine, and while Wash thinks it’s great to see an old friend, he doesn’t know the man is back under the projects thumb.

-At a similar time, Tucker overhears two guys at the bar mention Wash. When it seems to be friendly in nature, he pokes his nose in. York and North are over the moons to hear about their old friend.

(You thought the whump was over? Think again me!)

Wash is sorely outmatched by Maine, who knocks him unconscious and takes him back to the project. Tucker can’t wait to tell him that he found his old contacts but Wash never returns home. He calls up York and North in concern, and the two say they’ll look into it.

After more silence, they come back with bad news. This is something serious, so just forget about it (And why are you so worked up? What was he to you?)

(WHAM BAM HIT ME WITH THAT TIME LONGING TIME)

A few years later, when news of a mystery hunter stalking old Freelancer ties, things get busy on the little old planet again.

-Tucker convinces the Reds to rig him a ship so he can go out hunting.

-After those years Junior isn’t with him anymore? Either due to medical reasons or Tucker falling for the ‘better life options’

(Or pussy out and give them a happy ending before the time leap) (BUT NOT WITHOUT MORE DRAMA)

Where Tucker goes and saves Wash himself but gets help from everyone along the way. The mercenaries come back and get a hold of Junior, but Junior gives them the slip when they come up against Maine. Junior latches onto Maine, who doesn’t really know what to do, so he brings him back. The Councillor is suitably confused at the new addition. So guess who the little half-human finds partly brain-washed?

#red vs blue #rvb fanfic #lavernius tucker #agent washington #tuckington #Junior rvb #skeletons in the cupboard still have flesh #long post #monkeywrites #skeletons in the closet still have flesh

25 notes · View notes

strongerwiththepack · 4 years ago

Text

It Was The Only Way

Whumptober2020 here we go!

I somehow completed WT last year and as fun as it was I am not ready to commit to that hectic release schedule again oof. My focus right now is on longer stories as that’s something I want to improve.

This particular story is 3 chapters and will cover days 1-3 of WT2020! I’m just going to do a select few prompts this year but hopefully with longer fics to balance it out. This is the only one I’ve pre-written though.

Also this is definitely the meanest I’ve ever been to Alan so read with caution, tw: torture.

FF.Net | AO3

No.1 Let’s hang out sometime

Waking up restrained | Shackled | Hanging

Alan knew something was wrong as he felt the pull towards consciousness. His head was pounding, and his mouth was uncomfortably dry. The worst part though was the agonising pain in his shoulders. He involuntarily let out a moan that was more of a croaky gasp of air.

Opening his eyes slowly, his head spun as he realised he was somehow upright. Closing them again quickly, he took some deep breaths to quell the sudden nausea. Breathing was difficult, his throat felt tight and he gasped, chocking back a sob.

Squinting his eyes open again, his heart thumped loudly as he took in his surroundings. He didn’t have the strength to turn his head but he was facing a dirty stone wall with a bolted steel door. The most alarming thing though was that he was hanging from his wrists in the centre of the room.

His feet dragged on the floor below him. He didn’t want to stand up but the pain in his shoulders was too much. His legs were stiff and uncooperative as stumbled to get his feet under him. As he slowly stood up he had to grit his teeth as his shoulders screamed at the movement after being in the same position for so long.

Alan longed to bring them right down to his sides but he was only able to just touch the ground standing on his tip toes. His arms were still held painfully above him. Though thankfully, once he took his full weight off them, he was able to breath a bit better. He took some deep shaky breaths as he slowly took in his surroundings.

All the other walls were the same as the one he was stuck staring at. Dirty grey stone, no windows, only one door. It was empty. He looked up as his wrists, wincing at his stiff neck. There were metal shackles clamped around his wrists. He gave a half-hearted tug but it was quite clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

His wrist flared in pain at his movements. He realised he was dressed in only the t-shirt and shorts he wore under his IR suit. His bare wrists were agony under the rusted metal cuffs and he shivered from the cold air in the damp room.

Alan felt his legs shake dangerously as he took in his situation. Tears pooled in his eyes as he held back his sobs. His arms hurt, his head hurt, he felt sick. Where was he? Where were his brothers? He wanted to go home.

Before he could panic any further, the door swung open and banged loudly against the wall. Alan couldn’t help the violent flinch at the noise. He was taking sharp quick breaths, trying to calm down, as three men walked though the door.

He thought about how Scott would act in this situation. It was kind of his subconscious mantra in life “What would Scott do?”. His other brothers would tease him but it did help him stay calm and make good decisions. Right now though, simply not crying was the best he could do. He remained silent even as he continued to take quick panicked breaths, his eyes darting between the men entering the room.

“Mr. Tracy.” The man in the middle began. “Glad to see you’ve finally awakened.”

He was wearing a perfectly pressed suit that didn’t fit in with their surroundings at all. Alan stared and felt a strong need to step back but he could barely keep his feet under him as it was. He balanced precariously on his tiptoes, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

The guy seemed to notice his fear and chuckled. The sound grated uncomfortably on Alan’s ears. “Don’t worry kid, we don’t want anything from you.”

He grabbed a hold of Alan’s chin, pulling him forward slightly and Alan toes dragged along the ground. “You’re just incentive for those older brothers of yours.”

He pushed him away again and Alan lost his footing as the chains swung too far back. He grunted as his abused shoulders were strained again.

“I can’t say you’re going to have a good time while you’re here.” The man continued almost airily. “But as long as I get what I want you’ll be back to your luxury island soon enough.”

The man almost snarled as he talked about the island. Alan didn’t know what was going on here but it clearly wasn’t good. He bit his tongue to keep from crying out as he got his feet back under him.

One of the other men was setting up a camera in front of him. His heart fluttered. This was for his brothers. He needed to get himself together.

None of the men were paying attention to him anymore as the man in the suit turned towards the camera. He straightened his tie and nodded at the man behind the camera. The red light blinked on and he began.

“International Rescue.” He smiled as if this were a social call. “I’m sure by now you’ve noticed you seem to be missing someone.”

“That’s quite a problem you seem to have and you know what? I also have a bit of a problem.” His words were casual but there was a sinister undertone that made Alan shiver. “If you help me with my problem I think I could return the favour.”

He stepped aside so that Alan was now clearly in view of the camera.

“My requests are written out for you on the accompanying piece of paper.” He paused smiling, almost laughing silently to himself. “Well I say requests but you don’t have much of a choice do you?”

And then he was waving his hand and the third man walked forward carrying a large metal bucket. Before he could process anything Alan found himself being drenched with icy cold water. He gasped sharply, spluttering at the abrupt soaking.

The man in the suit was talking to the camera again but he couldn’t concentrate enough to listen. Then there was a sparking flash to his right and he blearily looked over to see the man who’d drenched him brandishing a cattle prod towards him. It was sparking at the end and Alan had no control of the distressed noise that came out of his throat and he tried to pull away.

There was nowhere to go though, and it was pressed up against his side. His whole body seized and he couldn’t even scream as he choked through the intense pain. His muscles spasmed and it felt as if it was never going to end.

When it was finally taken away he sobbed involuntarily as he took in gasping breaths. There were tears running freely down his face and he hung limply again. He looked into the camera and he didn’t know what he was trying to portray but he knew it wouldn’t be reassuring.

Before he could even think about doing anything else the blinding pain was back against his side and he cried out as his body seized up once again. It was taken away quicker this time but he barely had time to breathe before it was placed back against him again.

This was an agonising cycle and by the end he was left panting, hanging limply as darkness crowded the edges of his vision.

The camera was packed up and the man in the suit looked gleefully at him. “Excellent show kid. Don’t think those brothers of yours will waste much time after they see this.”

He dug around in his pocket and pulled out a rusted key. “Here.” He tossed it as Alan feet. “That’s the key to the shackles for all your hard work.”

Alan stared solemnly at the key as his head rested against his chest. He couldn’t even stand up, let alone get that key up to his hands.

Despair engulfed him and he welcomed the blissful pull of unconsciousness.

When Alan next woke his whole body felt numb, he just wanted to sink back to sleep again but the pounding in his head wouldn’t let him. He groaned and slowly peeled his eyes open, they were sticky from dried tears and he wished he could wipe them clean.

His shoulders ached deeply and his eyes caught the key on the dirty floor beneath his feet as he remembered what had happened. It seemed like an impossible task. He bit down on his lip and took some deep breaths.

His bare feet were numb from the cold and he could barely make them cooperate as he brushed them over the key. He managed to grasp onto it, wedging it between his toes. He steeled himself before trying to pull his legs up in front of him.

His wrists screamed at the pressure and his side burned where the cattle prod had been. He barely got half a metre off the ground before the key slid free and he dropped back down with a cry of pain. Why couldn’t he do this? Any of his brothers would have been able to easily.

He took a shaky breath and worked on getting the key back between his feet. He tried once more to pull himself up, leveraging his feet up towards his hands but it was useless. His muscles weren’t cooperating. His arms shook for a few seconds before he dropped back down again.

He heard the key bouncing on the ground and peered down to see it had bounced out his reach now. He quiet sob escaped his throat. He’d been in bad situations before but he’d never felt this alone. He’d never been without a brother talking calmly in his ear. Surely John would’ve found him by now? Why weren’t they here?

Alan knew he was being unfair but he was cold, sore, alone and he really just needed Scott to burst through those door right now. There was nothing left he could do except hang there and wait.

Scott was sat at his fathers desk coordinating with Lady Penelope, the GDF and anyone else he thought could possibly help with finding his baby brother. He ran a hand through his hair as he read update after update of dead-ends and no leads.

John popped up next to him and he had to hide his flinch. He’d been up for way too long and was far too on edge for surprises.

“John.” He sighed. “Please tell me you’ve got something?”

As much as Scott wanted his brother down with them during this, they’d both agreed that the best place he could be to find their brother was Thunderbird 5. The space stations resources were invaluable right now.

“I’ve got something.” There was something in John’s eyes that made Scott’s heart sink. “Get the others.”

Scott nodded and stood up abruptly, his chair scraping loudly on the floor.

“Scott.” John spoke again and he turned. “Don’t get Grandma.”

The implications of that did not sit well with Scott.

Once he, Vigil, Gordon, and Kayo were gathered in the lounge, John brought up a video on the holoprojector. A DVD and a letter were left at an IR collection point in New York. John had gotten them both scanned and digitalised.

“I’ve watched a bit already.” John said tightly. “It’s not good.”

The video began playing and Scott’s fist tightened. They were forced to stand and watch Alan, their baby brother, being tortured. Scott’s heart was racing. All of this had already happened at least hours ago. Who knows what could be happening at this very second. He had to hold back the intense need to punch straight through the holoprojector, even knowing it would accomplish nothing.

“Oh god, Alan…” Gordon mumbled with pain lacing his tone.

He watched as Virgil pulled the aquanaut into his side. His own face a picture of misery and disbelief. When the original man finally stepped in front of the camera again and ended the video, Scott was frantic.

“Bring up his demands John.”

The list was clear. Blueprints of all their technology and $50,000,000 of untraceable money transferred into an offshores account. There was no mention of the actual Thunderbirds, which pointed to the fact that this man must know every fibre of their technology was highly traceable.

“Can we trace the drop-off?” Scott grit out.

“I’ve got the GDF looking into it but it’s unlikely.”

Scott’s teeth clench so hard he was sure he was grinding them down.

“Scott.” Virgil’s hand landed on his shoulder. “What should we do?”

“We give him what he wants.”

“Scott, our technology will be disastrous in the wrong hands.” John reasoned dejectedly.

“I don’t care John. We can deal with the fallout later.” Scott barked. “We are not leaving Alan there a second longer.”

“FAB.” John grunted. “I’ll put together a folder of all our blueprints.”

“Thanks John. I need to start liquidating some of our assets, the board at Tracy Industries are going to prove a challenge.” Scott said angrily. “We’re dealing with this as quickly as we possibly can. Cash-in all our favours. Kayo, have an extraction plan ready if things go wrong.”

It took hours.

Without having much to do Virgil had been over-prepping the medbay on Thunderbird 2 and ensuring the infirmary was set up just as well. In between strategy talks with Kayo, Gordon had been relentlessly swimming laps of the pool, too jittery to stay still for long.

This was it though. Scott was standing at the drop-off point, alone. Well, he appeared to be alone that is. Virgil was about half a mile away in Thunderbird 2 and would be here in seconds to pick him up if anything went wrong. There were also GDF personnel surrounding at a safe distance. Not to mention John monitoring everything and the whole family in his ear.

The instructions had been clear. Come alone.

It was an abandoned office block on the outskirts of Detroit. A quiet area but easy to slip away into traffic once they were done. Ideal for a quick trade.

Kayo and Gordon were inside the building already. Scoping it out stealthily. As loud as Gordon was normally Scott knew he was well trained in stealth operations at WASP. With such high stakes, there would be only intense focus from the usual jokester.

The ideal outcome would be that Kayo or Gordon would find Alan in the building and things could be dealt with quickly and quietly. No need to give away their secrets or money. Not that Scott cared about the money. He would give up everything they had to get Alan back.

The blueprints were another story. Giving them away didn’t just affect them. It would affect the entire world. Put the entire world in danger. Handing over the blueprints for their technology was a last resort.

“Target incoming, Scott.” Kayo said shortly over the comm. “No sign of Alan. We’ll keep looking.”

Sure enough, the man from the video emerged from the building. Two other men flanked him on either side. Scott recognised the expensive suit and perfectly polished shoes. If they’d been in a boardroom, the man would’ve passed as a high profile client.

Scott himself was dressed in his International Rescue gear. This wasn’t a business deal for him. He had a large code-locked briefcase held tightly in his hand.

“Mr. Tracy” The man started. “Thank-you for agreeing to meet with me.”

Again, the man’s speech and mannerisms wouldn’t be out of place in a boardroom, but it was chilling in this setting. The man had too much confidence for such a risky plan.

“No games.” Scott said gruffly. “Where’s Alan?”

“That depends.” The man said airily. “Where are my demands?”

Scott flicked at his watch and waited for confirmation of the transfer. “The money has been wired into your offshore account. You’ll get the blueprints once I have my brother.”

The man chuckled. “That’s not how it works boy.” The friendly businessman persona was gone. “You don’t have any leverage here. You do what I say or I kill your brother. Now hand it over.”

He held out his hand and Scott growled. “If you kill him, it’ll be you with no leverage. Bring Alan out here and I’ll give it to you.”

The man scowled. “You don’t think I’d be stupid enough to bring my only bargaining chip here do you?” He seethed. “Just like how I know you weren’t stupid enough to truly come alone.”

“It’s going south, get out of there.” Kayo hissed in his ear.

The man made to pull what Scott assumed would be a gun from his waistband but Scott made a grab at his arm before anyone could blink. Twisting it sharply, the small weapon fell to the ground in a clatter.

The men flanking him moved in immediately. Scott made to run, hoping backup was on the way but was grabbed by his upper arm. He twisted in the grip to break free and swung the hard metal briefcase at the man’s head, effectively stunning him.

It was three on one though and Scott felt two sets of arms grabbing at his, one twisting his arm behind his back until he dropped the briefcase with a cry. He was kicked in the back of the knees and pushed down onto his front, being pinned by the arm still twisted behind his back.

He could hear the whine of Two’s engines growling closer as the leader knelt down in front of him, briefcase in one hand and his gun firmly back in the other.

“The case is locked with a pin, you’ll never get into it.” Scott grunted as he struggled beneath the hold.

“Like you said, I may not be able to kill the little brat without losing my leverage but I can and will torture him within an inch of his life if I don’t get what I want.” The man seethed.

Two was in view now. “It seems we’ve run out of time here but I’ll be in touch.”

“Drop the gun or I shoot.” Kayo.

Scott stiffly turned his head to see their security officer with a gun pointed at the man. It was a desperate effort. Where the hell were the GDF!?

As anticipated the man laughed. “You think you can take down all three of us before I can put a bullet between his eyes? Alan Tracy has four older brothers to blackmail, I certainly don’t need them all. Drop the gun and step away.”

Kayo’s face was like thunder. This was not going according to plan and Scott felt true fear gnawing at his bones. There was no contingency plan if they didn’t get Alan back today. Before any plan could be made five more guys ran from the building surrounding them, guns trained.

Kayo really didn’t have a choice. She scrunched her eyes up in fury before letting the gun fall from her hands and was grabbed from behind. Handcuffs were produced and both Scott and Kayo were secured to pipes on the opposite building. Scott fought tooth and nail, if he got away with the plans they would never get Alan back.

As soon as they were restrained the men retreated into the building and Scott pulled desperately at the cuffs, trying to yank the whole pipe off the wall.

“Where the hell are the bloody GDF!?” Scott yelled angrily.

“I signalled for help they should have been here by now.” Kayo grunted.

Scott let out a scream of frustration as he continued pointlessly pulling at the cuffs. How had this gone so wrong? They had planned everything down to the letter yet somehow that man still had Alan as well as the money and the blueprints.

Virgil rappelling down to them from Thunderbird Two and Scott deflated, leaning his head against the wall.

They’d had one chance and they’d blown it.

Tbc.

#whumptober2020 #no.1 #thunderbirds are go #waking up restrained #shackled #hanging #fic #myfic #tw: torture #alan tracy #scott tracy

8 notes · View notes

fandomsfeelsandfanfics · 4 years ago

Text

The Arrangement, Part VIII/// Draco Malfoy x Reader

SUMMARY: Draco takes you to Paris.

WORD COUNT: 2,339

WARNING(S): yeah this isn’t edited so typos most likely. also a lil suggestive at the end oof.

A/N: i’m spam posting ot finish this series up. i hope y’all enjoy it.

SERIES MASTERLIST | PLAYLIST

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You were half asleep. Drifting in and out from dreams to consciousness and it was almost hard to discern between the two. Sleeping on a gigantic luxurious bed with an amazing view of Paris next to Draco Malfoy almost seemed like a dream.

There was a small flash and you opened your eyes. Draco was sitting next to you taking pictures. “Draco,” you mumbled.

“Sorry love, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He leaned over and kissed your temple.

“That’s not fair. I’ve just woken up, I probably look like shit.”

He stared at the Polaroid in his hand as it started to develop. “You look gorgeous.” He shook it and looked at it again. “But it’s not nearly as beautiful as the real thing.” He leaned down to kiss you but before he could properly reach you. You pushed him onto his back and got on top of him.

You grabbed his camera and started taking pictures. He smiled and laughed as you snapped one picture after another. His hands came up to your thighs and he rolled you off of him.

You took more pictures of him, towering over you. Finally, you lowered the camera. Draco stared down at you. His hands came up to your waist.

“Mm, you are seriously so gorgeous.” He kissed you and gave your waist a squeeze. You leaned up into him, wanting more. When he pulled away, he fell down next to you on the bed with a satisfied smile.

He picked up one of the pictures you took of him and held it up next to his face for you to look at. “Which is better?” You leaned forward as if to kiss him and kissed the Polaroid instead. Then you laid back down, closing your eyes.

“Oh really?”

You opened one of your eyes to look at him. “Fine you can have one too.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips and laid back down.

He was propped up on one elbow just staring at you. “We need to get up soon.”

“Says who?” He reaches down to wrap his finger around a strand of your hair.

“We can’t just lay here all day.”

“Who says we’re gonna spend all day laying?” One of his hands moved down to your thigh. You grabbed it before he could do anything more.

“I came to Paris to see Paris.” He groaned. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“I was going to take you to some of my favorite stores and then we can go eat. It’s all my treat.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles.

“I don’t need you to buy me things,” you challenged.

“Yes, I know but maybe I want to buy you things.” He kissed up your arm, finally arriving at your shoulder then your jaw then your cheek. He stopped just short of actually kissing you. “I think you deserve it. What was that about all work and no play?” You smiled as he came down for a kiss.

As you walked down the uneven streets, your arms were weighed down buy shopping bags. Draco insisted on taking you to all of his favorite stores in Paris. Shopping took you through the morning and well into the afternoon mostly because Draco insisted on seeing you try on most of the things you bought. You reckoned it was more for him than you but you entertained him anyway.

“Draco, I feel like my arms might break.” He brought his hand up to lower his sunglasses so he could look at you over the rim of them.

He gazed at you in amusement for a moment before pushing the glasses back up the bridge of his nose with a small chuckle. “That’s how you know you’re done shopping for the day. That’s what my mom used to say.” He stopped walking and turned to you. “There’s one more place I wanted to stop down this street but if you want you can sit in this cafe while I’m gone.” You looked at the cafe over Draco’s shoulder. It looked quaint.

“That sounds perfect.” It was named something that you couldn’t quite understand in French.

“Order a coffe or something, relax. I won’t be gone long.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead. His hand came up to the small of your back and he pulled you into him slightly. You came closer to him willingly.

“Sure you don’t want to come with me?” He looked down at you with those beautiful grey eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll just wait.”

“ ‘Mkay, be right back.” You watched as he walked off in the other direction before walking to the cafe.

You were greeted with the smell of coffee and a “salut” from one of the baristas. You returned the gesture, hoping your pronunciation sounded authentic and sat in one of the chairs by the window.

You would’ve tried to order a coffee but you couldn’t read the menu. You always relied on Draco to order for you. He pronounced everything perfectly and it sounded beautiful coming out of his mouth.

You sat there, staring out the window for a few minutes watching people as they walked by. You’d only been there for a day but so far, you loved everything about Paris. You especially loved being there with him. There was something that felt different when you woke up in the morning with Draco’s arms wrapped around you and the light flooding in through the window. There was something about the people and the scenery.

You loved Paris. You loved Draco showing you around. You loved sleeping in that luxurious bed with him next to you. You loved the look on Draco’s face as he showed you around. You loved Draco.

You heart skipped a beat with that thought. It had come out of nowhere and it scared the hell out of you. You couldn’t say that it wasn’t true but you preferred to just not think about it. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with Draco. That certainly wasn’t what Narcissa wanted.

But what did you want?

You didn’t know how long you were sitting there trying to answer that question before Draco walked in. You didn’t even see him coming and almost jumped when he sat across from you.

“You alright?” You sat your hands on the arms of the chair you were sitting at, trying to wipe away the obvious amounts of sweat.

“Yeah I’m great.”

“I hope I wasn’t gone too long, I wanted to make sure they had exactly what I was looking for.” He had a small bag in his hand, evidently from a jewelry store.

“And did they?” He sat the bag on his lap and pulled out a long box. He slid it across the table towards you. “Draco...”

“Just open it.” You slowly opened it. There was a silver necklace inside with a diamond hanging from the exact middle. It was gorgeous. You wondered how much it cost and your eyes drifted back up to him.

Before you could refuse it, he reached for the box. “Let me put it on you.” He leaned close to you and wrapped the necklace around your neck. You could feel his breath against your ear as he fastened it. Finally, he leaned back just enough to look at you.

“It’s beautiful.” He leaned in to kiss you and even once he had pulled away, you still had your eyes closed. “How does dinner sound?” You opened your eyes and blinked at him a few times.

“Dinner sounds...great.” You wanted to kiss him again and again and again. But it occurred to you that you were in the middle of a cafe and the sun was already setting. Where had the time gone?

After you took everything back to the hotel, Draco had a driver take you to a restaurant which he claimed had been his favorite when he was younger. You couldn’t imagine any kid liking this type of restaurant. It was quiet and everyone was dressed fancy.

“They’ve got killer chicken tenders,” was his reply when you mentioned that to him. “It was worth having my mother stick me in a suit with a tie that was way too tight.”

You were placed at one of the nicest tables in the back corner away from everyone else with a view of the Seine river. Draco ordered for the both of you. You stared out of the window and were barely aware that the waiter had left and there was an awkward silence.

Draco’s hand found your knee under the table, which nearly startled you. You looked up at him. “Hey, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” It was partially true but mostly a lie. You tried to distract yourself and think about anything that wasn’t Draco but that was hard when Draco was sitting right in front of you. His features became more defined in the candlelight from the candle that sat directly in the middle of the table separating you. He looked pale and delicate. Fragile.

You looked away from him and back out the window. A boat floated by peacefully. “I’m just taking everything in.”

Draco’s hand left your knee as he rested his chin on his fist and leaned toward you. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just a little crazy. It’s beautiful and wonderful but it’s a little bit of a whirlwind, right? All the money and the beautiful people. One could get lost.”

Draco leaned back in his chair looking out the window like he was trying to recall something. “Oh yeah but it’s fun. There were times when I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life in Paris, the most beautiful place in the world, and just surround myself with whatever and whoever I wanted. But then the last time I was in Paris, I got so high I thought I was gonna die.”

He paused and you took the opportunity to look up at him. He had his bottom lip between his teeth like it hurt him to think about. “It was insane because I felt so good. I felt on top of the world. And then the next morning I woke up and I couldn’t feel anything. I just felt empty. Suddenly, all the things I’d bought and all the people I met meant nothing. I tossed all my belongings in that river down there and swore I’d never come back to Paris.”

You’d never heard that story. Not in any tabloid or any newspaper. You wondered who Narcissa had to pay to keep everyone from hearing about Draco’s near overdose.

“Draco you didn’t have to come back to Paris for me.”

His eyes drifted back to you. “It wasn’t entirely for you. I mean I love getting to see your face as you experience all this for the first time but really I just wanted to see. You know, I haven’t taken drugs or drank since I’ve been here, haven’t even thought about it. The Paris thing was about a year ago and ever since then I’ve just felt empty. I try to fill myself with anything I can but it wears off and I’m back to square one. Then I saw you and I felt like me again. I was thinking about you all the time and the next time I would see you. You made me feel something which is scary as hell.”

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “You make me feel so good, I’m starting to think you’re gonna be the death of me.” He smirked at you and reached for your hand.

The waiter returned with your food and refilled your waters. “Merci,” you mumbled. That was one of the few things you could say confidently in French.

You took a bite of your food and looked up to find Draco staring at you. Before you could make a sarcastic comment about how he shouldn’t stare, he said, “You sound beautiful when you speak French.” Finally, he ate a fork full of steak.

The rest of the meal was spent exchanging glancing under candlelight. Draco’s hand rested pretty comfortably on your knee most of the meal. You were both silent but the silence held more than either of you could name.

Once you were finally out of the restaurant and out of the cab and back in the hotel, Draco was kissing you. Over and over, on your mouth, on your cheeks, then your jaw and then your neck. There would probably be a mark there tomorrow.

For a moment, Draco brought his head back up to look at you. His breath was heavy. “Words don’t even begin to describe how thankful I am for you.” His hands were warm as his fingers impatiently moved around your back, exploring.

Your thoughts came back to Narcissa for a moment. This had become so much more than either you or Narcissa expected. There was no going back or backing out now and there was no more plan. It was just you and Draco, miles away from everyone else. That’s all that mattered now.

“Draco.” You pulled him into a kiss and instantly everything else melted away.

Draco was asleep and you watched him. He had his arm wrapped around your waist as he laid on your lap gently snoring. Your hand was in his hair, playing with it soothingly.

His hair looked even bright in the moonlight and his skin shone out brightly in juxtaposition to the dark room. “Draco,” you whispered. He didn’t say anything. He must really be asleep.

So you said it. You weren’t exactly ready for him to hear it yet but you thought you might explode if you didn’t get it out. “I love you.” You leaned down to kiss the top of his head and he stirred slightly. But in the end, he was still sleeping peacefully.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

tag list (lemme know if you wanna be tagged):

@danadeacon @ky-jjpg @naomi02hook @hiddle-hoe@xtrashmouthxtozierx @honeyshores @yuptha-tsme @wormy-boi@chaotic-good-gemini@fricktheitinerary@fanficflaneuse@winnsmills@okaydraco@jainaixo @dracoxxyoflam @katsukink @iliketoast23

12 notes · View notes

nitewrighter · 5 years ago

Note

Reidan working out/sparring/training interactions/ficlet!prompt! Rei & Aedan first time training together back when he first defected, then training together again after Rei got back after her brief stint as a stuntman, then the final culmination of the duo being able to take each other on into a stalemate/draw or work together in synergy/sync! Like a sort of reflection of their relationship from start to end! Bonus if its in the pov of the OW fam spectating & commentating on their growth-

It was a route anyone would have taken–when you’re heading from the mess hall to the infirmary, you cut through the hangar, you don’t even think about it. Mercy certainly didn’t mean to walk in on the scene, and if she could have gone all day not knowing it was happening, she would have been just fine with that, but she heard grunting as she opened the metal door. Well that wasn’t unusual. The hangar had been converted into a sort of sparring area, after all. She kept up her pace through the hangar, until 2 seconds later when she realized one of the voices grunting was Rei. Well, that was all well and good. Rei had taken to training more since losing her dragon had taken such a toll on her, but then Mercy heard Rei call, “Harder! Faster!” and then she heard another voice tinged with a posh Dublin accent going “I’m trying!” and she felt all the blood drain from her face. To this day she claims she didn’t sprint to the source of the sound but she did. She absolutely did, and she skidded to a halt on her heels to see Rei effortlessly blocking strikes from the O’Deorain clone–Aedan. She had to call him Aedan. She had to stop defaulting to calling him the clone.

“Come on, science boy!” Rei chided as she blocked another strike from Aedan, “And you’re overextending!” They were both flushed, and the air was warm and smelt of them. Cherry blossom and lemon verbena soap co-mingling with the coppery-ozone smell of nanites and the watchpoint’s generic eucalyptus body wash.

“I’m not overextending I’m just–” Aedan grunted as Rei blocked and countered one of his strikes with a blow to the ribs, “I’ve got… a lot of limbs… going–” Rei seized his wrist and spun him around so that his arm was behind him before forcing him down to his knees.

“Overextending,” she said, her brow furrowed. She glanced up to see Mercy. “…Mom?”

Aedan was grunting in pain from the armlock but his head jerked up at the sight of Mercy. “Doctor Ziegler?”

“So you’re… sparring,” said Mercy.

“Well… yeah,” said Aedan.

“Just sparring?” said Mercy.

“I’m sparring, I don’t know what this guy’s doing,” said Rei with a smirk, shoving Aedan’s arm and prompting a grunt out of him.

“…Right,” Mercy just said a bit blankly before walking briskly off again.

—-

It was about 10 months later, Rei was visiting the watchpoint with Midori Rider on a mid-season break and Christmas was only a few days away. Aedan blocked a strike from Rei and moved to counter it, forcing her to dodge back out of his reach.

“You’ve gotten better,” she said, with a grin.

“Well, if I’m being completely honest, you’re telegraphing your moves,” said Aedan, blocking a strike from her.

“Am not,” She went for a kick and he dodged back.

“You’re doing everything short of yelling, ‘Midori Rider lightning kick!’” Aedan teased, catching her wrist “It makes sense, really–you have to keep your silhouette clear for the show, right?” He dipped out of another strike from her, “I was a dancer. I get it.”

“Oh, a dancer,” she said, ducking out of a strike from him, “Then let’s dance.” ducked low and swept his legs out from under him. Normally that would knock him onto his butt and that would be the end of it, but he faded in mid-air, regained his footing, and pounced, tackling her from the waist and pinning her arms over her head.

“I should warn you I’m a pretty good dancer,” said Aedan.

“We never said you could fade,” said Rei, furrowing those Shimada brows at him.

“Never said I couldn’t,” said Aedan, grinning.

“Glad you’re figuring out how to use it for stuff besides ‘run away! Run awaaay!’” she managed to do a flailing jazz hands even with her arms pinned.

Aedan snickered. “I wasn’t just using it to run away! I could use it to build up speed, too!”

“To run away,” said Rei, smirking.

“You’re acting awfully smug for someone who’s pin–OOF–” Aedan was knocked off by a flying kick from Hanzo. He bounced across the mat twice before rolling to a groaning stop.

“Uncle–!” Rei started.

“First rule of any fight is never let your guard down!” said Hanzo.

“You weren’t even in this fight!” said Rei.

“You think every fight will be as simple as one on one?” said Hanzo, folding his arms.

“Oh my god, Uncle, when did you even come in?” said Rei, pushing up off the mat and walking over to Aedan, who was still groaning in a heap.

“Ah–yes–” Hanzo cleared his throat, “Your father… wanted me to tell you dinner was ready.”

“…and you saw us and just decided that we could use a little help while sparring,” said Rei, doing her best to unroll Aedan’s lanky body from its twisted pile.

“…Yes,” said Hanzo.

“Aedan, how many fingers am I holding up?” said Rei, holding up three fingers in Aedan’s face.

“You… have beautiful eyes,” Aedan said in a daze.

“Well, you broke him, Uncle,” said Rei.

—-

Genji dreamt of yellow fangs being bared and his eyes snapped open. Mercy stirred slightly next to him as he sat up in bed, pulled on a pair of sweats and a pullover and padded toward the door. Rei’s room was empty, with a note on her pillow saying she would be home around one-ish, which he could accept. She was a grown woman after all–but the dragon. He could feel Rei’s dragon tugging at one end of his consciousness. No Shimada summoned a dragon for nothing. He toed into his shoes at the door and headed out into the night. Orisa would still be making her night rounds–if anything was really wrong he would know. The lights on Hanzo’s apartment were out, which left the hangar, her favorite meditation spot on the cliffs, the lab, and the mess hall, and the hangar was closest. The lights were on in the hangar. He took the high walkway in, careful not to let his footsteps ring too loudly on the metal, and he paused, looking down into the watchpoint training area. He saw Aedan slumped against a pile of shipping containers, wiping down his face as Rei paced around in front of him, drinking from a water bottle.

“I just–I don’t know if it’s good for Overwatch in the long run, is all,” Aedan was saying.

“It’s not about ‘long run’ it’s about coming away from a fight alive,” said Rei.

Aedan shuddered. “I really, really hope Andrea can’t do it…” said Aedan, “And what if people see it? Then suddenly everyone’s freaking out about the monster in Overwatch.”

“It doesn’t make you a monster, Aedan. We don’t know if Andrea can do it, so it may be an edge you have on her. But you said yourself we need to get better at controlling it.”

“I… I’m pretty spent already…” Aedan was rubbing the back of his head. Genji noticed black stains on his clothes.

“Last session then,” said Rei, rifling through a bag and pulling out one of Ana’s grenades, “Then we turn in.”

“…I still can’t believe you managed to get ahold of those,” said Aedan.

“Well, it means we are taking over Samir’s dish duty for the next two weeks, so…” Rei trailed off, “On three?”

“Right,” Aedan pushed off of the shipping containers and rolled his shoulders.

“One, two–” Rei tossed Ana’s grenade at his feet and he flinched back at the splash of biotics, then Rei drew a foot back in a graceful bow stance, yellow energy spiraling around her arm before dealing an open palmed strike to Aedan’s chest. Aedan staggered ba ck from the hit and Genji tilted his head curiously as the yellow energy around Rei’s arm spiraled into her dragon. Aedan coughed and spluttered out black droplets and his eyes opened, just pits of wet blackness as nanites clouded around him. Aedan was right. He did look monstrous. Instinctively, the plate of Genji’s shuriken-bearing arm clicked, but Genji managed to stuff down the instinct to come between them. He watched as Aedan and Rei made a half circle around each other, gauging their fighting floor and their distance between each other, then rushed in. It was a sight to see, Aedan lashing out with a smoky whip of nanites, and Rei using the dragon to redirect that energy and counter it. Aedan fading the flank her and Rei dodging nimbly away. And in this perceived privacy, their movements were as dance-like as they were aggressive. It was beautiful, and a little terrifying. Rei’s own eyes were glowing yellow with her dragon, as she would move to get a kick in and Aedan would fade out of the way.

Light and shadow, Genji thought, but he almost huffed at the cliché. He and Mercy had spent so many years viewing Moira’s nanites as a corruption of Mercy’s work, as a source of agony for Reaper and the mangling of Moira’s hand, but it wasn’t as if Aedan could really help the circumstances of his birth, and he seemed to have just as many misgivings about his nanite abilities (if not more so) than Genji and Mercy. But he was here, and he wanted to help, in spite of all his fears, in spite of how scared everyone on the watchpoint was of him. The only person who wasn’t afraid of him was…

Genji’s eyes trailed to Rei, his sunshine, the dragon blazing off of her. Aedan moved to kick her but rather than let the kick connected, his leg faded and moved past her like smoke, only to reform behind her so he could swipe her leg out from under her, but she gripped his shoulders and swung her weight up and around him in a complex agile takedown. He faded out of her grip before she could slam him to the floor, but it was clear the previous spars had taken their toll on him and he reformed, panting on one knee. She was on the ground, one hand braced against it and legs repositioned to spring to her feet, but she was panting too, her other arm in a ward-off position with the last flickering yellow lights of the dragon spiraling around it.

“Call it?” she panted.

Aedan just nodded breathlessly and the nanite smoke faded off of him. He slumped forward and she caught him.

“That was good,” she said softly as he sank his weight against her, “That was good.”

Genji made the decision to leave the hangar before either of them could notice him. The walk back to the watchpoint apartments was brisk and silent, though he could have sworn he saw Orisa’s shape near one of the watchpoint fences in his walk. He re-entered his own apartment as quietly as possible, took off his shoes and peeled off his layers as he walked down the hallway. Mercy grunted slightly as he slipped back between the sheets next to her.

“Where’ve you been?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Got restless. Just ran a quick perimeter check,” he said, kissing her ear and wrapping an arm around her.

“Mm,” she conformed herself to his shape, “Anything interesting?”

“You could say that,” said Genji, there was a beat where he half-expected her to say ‘What’ but she had already drifted back asleep, all snuggled up against him, so he just smiled, kissed the back of her shoulder, and followed her lead.

#reidan #ahhhhh i've missed my kids #gency #follow for more Gency kid facts #moiraspawn

31 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 5 years ago

Text

Survey #260

“better think twice; your train of thought will be altered.”

Have you ever taken a shower with anyone before? I believe Nicole and I did as kids sometimes? Do you wear your seatbelt in the car? Always. Wear your goddamn seatbelt, folks. Do you prefer to spend your time indoors or outdoors? Generally indoors, but it does depend on what I can do outside as well as the weather. How many people have you kissed? Three or four. I really can't remember if *I* ever kissed Girt. Do you just feel awkward when you dance? YIKES YUP, even when I was a dancer. Has the person you have feelings for ever told you that you’re attractive? Yes. Can you get over people easily? MOTHER OF FUCK, NO. Do you believe that there are certain circumstances where cheating is okay? No. Do you like to have long hair or short hair? SHORT. Does the sound of rain at night help you sleep? Ugggghhhh, yes. Especially cuddling while falling sleep in the rain is everything. Have you ever worn a pair of scrubs? Many times. Anything in your room that you’re hiding from your parents or someone else? Well, to a degree. I have artwork in here that I'm just self-conscious of others seeing, but I wouldn't DIE if my mom found them. They're not even really "hidden," just covered. What flavor do you add to your drink at Sonic? Strawberry. Do you like hot-dogs? I wish I didn't. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry? A fuckin hot leather, spiked choker with chains draped across it. It's just a bit tight on me now. Worst injury you’ve ever had? I skinned the shit out of my knees on the road as a kid, wound up with cuts near the bones. It was not, NOOOOOT pretty and took literally years for the scars to totally vanish. What song do you want played at your funeral? Probably "Life is Beautiful" by Sixx AM. How many keys are on your key chain? What do they go to? Just the one to the house. Have you ever taken a pregnancy test? Not in the traditional sense. Before surgery, they obviously had to be sure via a urine sample, but otherwise, no. Would you rather live in a mansion or a small cozy home? Whew, the latter, easily. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now, would you accept? Nah. Do you get your eyebrows waxed, or do you pluck them? Neither, really. I just don't care; mine aren't awful, and it's too time-consuming and "required" too frequently for me to bother. They're just eyebrows. Do you and your last ex hate each other? Not at all. Do you believe your most recent ex thinks about you? Well yeah, we're best friends. Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? I was literally a madly in love teenager, you can guess. How do you handle people who are overly enthusiastic all the time? "I don’t 'handle' them, they’re actually pretty cool to be around. I appreciate having that kind of energy around me because I don’t generate a whole lot of it myself and I want it to rub off." <<<< Exactly this. Do people say you look like a certain celebrity? Nah. Who do you think you look like? No one I know of. Ever loved someone who didn’t love you back? hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGALS;KDJFA;LKJEW Ever done karaoke? Did you like it? Nooooo sir. Ever seen a pregnant woman smoking/drinking? Yep. It was an occasion where I had to practice serious self-discipline to keep my mouth shut. :x What was the last piece of candy you ate? Miss Tobey brought me a Reese's yesterday morning so that. Nice breakfast lmao. Do you curse a lot? A real fucking lot. It's not intentional, it's just so ingrained in me as normal diction after being at Jason's so much when his mother is the definition of an Italian New Yorker and thus her son has a mouth too lmao. Personally, I don't believe in "profanity" in the traditional sense so it doesn't bother me in the way of "oh I'm saying too many bad words," I just know my dictionary is wider than "fuck" and "shit" oof. If you could be a Disney character for a day, who would you be? Probably like Kiara. Be a hot princess lion with a hot lion boyfriend and chill lion parents WOW am I a furry yet. Are you wearing anything of any sentimental value? Describe? Yeah, my friendship ring with Sara, a bracelet from her as well, and an ovarian cancer bracelet for my mom. Then tattoos, if you consider myself as "wearing" them. To you, what is especially distracting? The sound of TV when you're trying to sleep. What are some things that are important in your life right now? My mom's health, my mental health, job searching to at least get ideas for when transportation is easier, keeping the house clean, keeping up with Sara's health. When was the last time you did some major cleaning? A couple weeks back when I detail cleaned out both my shelves. Who challenges you the most? In what way? My psychiatrist, but not in a bad way. He pushes me to keep improving with things. What was the last opportunity that you passed up, and why? I should know this, but I don't. Have you ever contemplated cheating on anyone? Oh no, I couldn't live with the guilt. Who do you know that gives very sound advice? Sara is great at that. What do you think makes a person weak? The will to drag someone down just because you're feeling that way. What makes a person strong? The determination to not give up. Who do you go to when you need comfort? Mom more than anyone. Where is your favorite place to get fries? BOJANGLE'S. You cannot live to your fullest potential until you've received the seasoned blessing of Bojangle's fries. What is the most recent article of clothing you’ve purchased? I think underwear. Have you ever made your own pie from scratch? No. Are there any waterfalls nearby? Definitely no big ones. Hell, maybe even no natural ones. There are lots of dams, but I don't think they count. What are your earliest memories of going to see a doctor? My first time getting my blood drawn and consciously understanding what was about to happen. Freaked the FUCK out, bolted from the room, and clinged like a monkey to a column while sobbing. It literally took multiple adults to get me off of it, and I was very little. And then when I actually got poked, apparently I just said, "... That's it?" Oh, little me, you'd take needles for hours later on in life in the name of art lol. What is your favorite condiment? Maybe ketchup. Do you know anyone who has been to rehab? Well, all the mental hospitals I've been to included addicts seeking recovery, and I befriended a few. For people more in my personal life, I think so. Would you consider yourself to be a picky eater? I am ridiculously picky. Have you ever slept in a car overnight? I'm quite sure no, not a full night. Has someone close to you died of murder? No, thankfully. Does your school offer driver’s ed? My high school did, which is where I took it. Have you ever done volunteering work abroad? No. Do you have a shower stall or a bath tub? A tub. Why do you do these surveys? I'm bored most of the time with absolutely nothing better to do. Sometimes it helps me contemplate some things about myself. Do you like shopping? Eh, depends on what I'm shopping for. What’s a show you wish that was still on air? MM IS COMIN BACK, FUCKERS. Do you like hip hop? Nooo. Do you like pretzels? I do, especially soft ones. You want your next pet to be what? It's probably going to be a tarantula. I'm not being sarcastic lmao. It just depends on if I can convince my mom. Do you like coconut scents? Sure. Would you spend 20 dollars on a candle? Hell no. What is a dessert that you DON’T like? Pie. And one that you love? mmmmmmmmMMMMMMMM ice cream. Would you rather be a vampire or a mermaid? Vampire, ig. Being a mermaid genuinely sounds boring. Where the fuck's the WiFi. Are you happy with your physical features? Bitch no. When you doodle, what are you usually doodling? Meerkats. Do you eat salads? Not enough, but I like them w/ regular lettuce and I'm open to different dressings. Favorite thing to do on your phone? Play Pokemon if I'm actually in a spot to get fckn balls. What magazines do you like? I don't read any. What is your favorite thing about Christmas? The feeling of really being a family. Do you prefer white or black electronics? Black. Firm pillow or soft pillow? S O F T Who was the last person you rode in a car with? Mom. Do you know anyone, personally, who is in an abusive relationship? Are you? Thank fuck no. Are there any people you don’t like for your significant other/crush to talk to? I’m single and don't have like... an "active" crush ig? What was the last alcoholic beverage you drank? I had a bombin' sangria for my birthday @ Olive Garden. Has one of your boyfriend’s best friends ever tried to get with you? Again, single, but for previous ones, no anyway. Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? No. Have any of your friends ever overdosed? I think so, but none died, thankfully. The last thing you downloaded onto your computer? Ummmm probably something for school. How many friends on Facebook do you have? 118. What age is the oldest you would date at the moment? It'd take me seriously liking someone to go slightly beyond 30. Do you want to be single? I don't know. I don't really know if I'm "fit" to be in a relationship right now, like I know I gotta figure shit out, but I think it's natural to want that companionship some days. Are you good at hiding your feelings? Well, I guess it depends on the emotion, but honestly, I don't think so, in most cases. Who did you last share a bed with? Sara. Have you ever been taken to the emergency room in an ambulance? Not in an ambulance, no. What are you listening to right now? An '80s-ish/synthwave cover of "Disturbia" by Rihanna. I've been on a total binge of this kinda stuff lately. Ever been on a golf cart? Ye. Do you have trust issues? Yep. Do you own something from Hot Topic? I think most of my shirts are from there. Have you ever slapped someone in the face? No. Do you have a little sister? Damn, not so little anymore. Turned 22 a few days ago. Have you ever been to New York? The state, yes. City, no. Do you actually read privacy policies when signing up for new things? Nope. Did you have a lot of birthday parties when you were younger? If so, did you invite everyone in the class? I mean, define "a lot?" I did once every year... and no. I was selective. Have you ever participated in one of those “guess how many jelly beans, mints, etc. are in this jar!” contest? If so, have you ever won? PTSD is fuckin weird. I have, and I get anxious and uncomfortable just seeing them. The very last time I hung out w/ Jason was at his brother's wife's baby shower, and something like that was there. Shitty fuckin day. Can you juggle? No. Do you live on an avenue, road, drive or something else? Road. What are your school colors? N/A Have you ever taken a picture with Santa when you were little? Yeah, I think my sisters and I did that every year? What is the population of the city you live in? Google says around 5.5k. Do you like Nerds candy? Yeah man. What’s your favourite flavour of soda, pop or whatever else you call it? Blue raspberry. What level of brightness do you usually keep your phone at? It's on about 70% during the day, and I lower it to about 20% when I'm about to go to bed. Have you ever attended a religious or private school? My previous school was a private & religious college. Do you have any pets and are they cuddly? My cat is STUPID cuddly. Absolute attention hog. My snake seems to enjoy attention, though I wouldn't define snakes as "cuddly;" their brains don't know what affection really is, which I think is mandatory in that definition. She does love to lie against me on the bed, though, when I take her out to let her wander. What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? All three of my jobs have sucked, but considering I lasted in a deli not even two hours, probs that. How many cars does your household own? One. Are there any cracks or scuffs on your phone? No. This shit is literally a Tracphone yet is incredible man, I've dropped it a good few times and it's a great phone. What’s your favourite meat? Out of most forms, probably pork, which I really wish wasn't true. I adore pigs. Or maybe chicken. Which I still feel bad about. Do you need glasses to read or drive or need them all the time? I always need them. Is the internet fast where you live? It's fine. What is your favourite meal of the day and why? Breakfast has the best options and makes me look forward to the morning lmao. Do you like long surveys or short surveys better? Ha ha, obviously long, seeing as I compile shorts ones into these larger ones. I do it because I feel individually posting with EVERY one I pick out would get annoying. Have you ever been to a cocktail bar? No. What’s the best amusement park you’ve ever visited? Disney World. Do you keep the cabinets in your kitchen and bathroom organized? More so in the kitchen. Have you ever had a romantic fling? No. Are you a very forgetful person? To a frightening point. Are your parents married or divorced? They're divorced. Do you believe in Heaven? Not the Christian one, but I do lean towards there being some peaceful existence after death. Do you eat the stems of broccoli? That's obviously the best part. Do you read blogs? No. Would you ever go out dressed like the opposite sex? I pretty much have before? Worn guy's pants and unisex or men's shirts before, I'm sure. Ever been involved with the police? No. What's your favorite shampoo/conditioner and soap? Idk, I'm just very used to Suave. Their body wash smells amazing. Do you feel that you've had a truly successful life? HELL NO. Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it? Twirl it. Favorite restaurant? Olive Garden is GOOD SHIT. Have you watched Tiger King yet? Christ, no, and I sure am tired of seeing it everywhere online. Do you try to do something significant and meaningful every day? It's quite clear I don't, even though I really, really want to. What is your favorite pizza topping? Pepperoni. What was the name of the first pet that you loved? Chance. What color hair did your first crush have? Brown. Does anyone know who your first crush was? yeah. Who was your first celebrity crush? Whew, Jesse McCartney, lads. Have you ever had to use an epi pen? No, thankfully. What color was your first phone? Navy, I think. Do you know anyone with Down’s syndrome? Not anyone personally. How much do you weigh (only answer if comfortable)? I'm not comfortable. Have you ever been overweight? I have been since 2016. What color is your Christmas tree? Green. What color Christmas tree do you want to have in your house someday? UGGGGHHHHHHH give me a black one with fake snow on it. Omg. What color house did you grow up in? Uhhhh... I think it was white? I should know this. Have you ever been baptized? If so, how and where? Yes, when I was a baby at the Catholic church I grew up going to. What type of wedding do you want? Give it a gothic vibe ok. Are you taller or shorter or the same height as your mom? We're the same height. What is your heritage? German, Irish, and Polish. Are you excited for the upcoming summer season? Ugh, no. Not at all. At. All. Do you like crackers with your soup? No. Which ex of yours means the most to you? Depending on which way you mean, Jason or Sara. What is something that never fails to make you feel accomplished? Do a decent amount of cleaning. How do you feel about nudity, in person? Uh???? What exactly do you mean by "in person"???? I guess it depends on who, the situation, and location??? Have you taken prescription medications that didn't belong to you? Pain medicine, yes. Do wooded areas freak you out in the evening or night? I mean, to a reasonable degree, I guess. Obviously being in the wild in the dark is dangerous. Have you ever ridden on the back of a motorcycle? No. Do you iron any of your clothes? No. Can you sleep in an unmade bed? Yeah. Did the house you grew up in have a big yard? It was p good. What has been the most difficult class you’ve ever taken? Probably Latin. What was the last website you were on, before this one? I was on Facebook. Is your hometown famous for anything? No. What are some things a house would need to have for you to purchase it? I'm personally very serious about a dishwasher and laundry room. Other than that I'm... kinda blanking? Like I'm not that picky as for what the house HASSSSSS to have, besides those. Well, two bathrooms would be great. What was the last thing you heated up in your microwave? A pancake+sausage on a stick thing for breakfast. When was the last time your internet stopped working? It was having a temper yesterday. Did you ever watch Phil of the Future? Not very much, and never really by choice. Nicole would watch it sometimes though. Were you born somewhere other than a hospital? No. What was the last flavor of ice cream you had? Vanilla. Do you have an online game that you play often? None at the very moment because my personal gaming laptop has been kaput for well over a month now. Maybe close to even two. Is there a trash can near you? No. Have you ever shared sleeping accommodations with someone of the opposite sex without anything steamy happening? No. Is there a fan going in the room you’re in? Yeah, beside me.

#survey #quiz #questions

3 notes · View notes

af-answers · 6 years ago

Text

Orion and the Two Heads

They all stared at the head staring up at the ceiling, unblinking. For a horrible minute, Orion was afraid he’d actually managed to kill a dead man. Then, the head began to laugh.

“Yes! Yes! This is what I’m talking about! Come over here, me, and pick me up!”

His body lurched forward, accidentally kicking the head to the other side of the room.

“Oof! Got to get used to this!”

The children waited patiently for Nick’s body to retrieve his head, Orion getting over the shock first, then Harry, then Hermione, and finally Ron.

“Now, I believe you promised us the location of another head,” Orion prompted.

Nick looked up at his severed neck, which “looked” down at him.

“I will tell you,” he said, gritting his teeth, “a deal is a deal, after all. But I wouldn’t have made it if I thought you’d actually be able to do it.”

Harry crossed his arms, bending at the waist to meet Nick’s eyes. “Where’s the head, Sir Nicholas?”

“We’re not going!” Ron whispered over breakfast the next morning.

“Nick said the head can only be found under the light of a full moon,” Hermione said, “so we need to make the decision soon. After tonight, it will begin waning.”

“Going that far into the Forbidden Forest?” Harry pushed aside a half-eaten pumpkin muffin. “Are we sure it’s worth it?”

“Besides,” Ron said, “no one knows why the head has been hidden. All history of the Valeron family has been lost. He could be a seriously wicked dude.”

“Or he could be an innocent. His body seems nice and well mannered enough,” Hermione countered. “Bottom line is, we won’t know anything for certain until we find him.”

The three looked over at Orion, who had been silent for most of the morning. The sudden intelligence he’d exhibited the night before had worn off, leaving a cowed boy in its wake. To be honest, Orion was trying hard not to think. He wasn’t sure what Artemis had access to anymore, and he couldn’t risk him finding out about the plan.

“I think,” he said, fiddling with his fork, “I’m not sure how much longer I have in control of this body. I can feel Art-Arthur chipping away at the walls holding him back, and I—“ he closed his eyes “— I want to live life to the fullest while I have one, you know?”

The Gryffindors were silent, the chatter of the other children pushing in on them.

“We’re here for you, Orion,” Ron said, squeezing his shoulder. “You wanna go out with a bang? You’ve come to the right people: mischief and adventure seems to follow us around.” He extended a fist toward his Slytherin friend.

A smile tugged at the corners of Orion’s mouth, and he bumped his fist against Ron’s. “To glory,” he said.

That night, the four friends rendezvoused at the pumpkin patch behind Hagrid’s hut. The three Gryffindors had the benefit of the Cloak, but the Slytherin house had a chess tournament that night, so Orion had to sneak out at a later time and meet them separately.

“Do we have everything?” Hermione whispered, ducking out from under the Invisibility Cloak.

Harry looked in his knapsack. “Map, candles, trowels, Seances for Dummies, cooking sherry—“

“—and a head-sized trash bag.” Ron finished.

Orion swooped down on a broom, dismounting two meters from the ground and flipping the broom handle over his shoulder with a grace Artemis could only envy.

“Are we ready?” he asked, propping the broom amongst Hagrid’s other gardening tools.

“As we’ll ever be,” Ron said, shaking from his shoulders to his feet to limber himself up.

“Right, straight to it, then,” Harry said, taking out the map and handing it to Hermione.

The four entered the dark woods as they always did: with fear and a heaping helping of ignorance.

After hearing a wolf howl in the distance, the students decide to sacrifice speed for safety and cluster under the Cloak. They arrived at the Whomping Willow without incident, when the moon was high in the sky.

“Hurry and find the marker,” Hermione whispered, holding the map up to the moonlight. “And stay clear of the Willow, whatever you do.”

The young wizards searched the area, lighting their way with their wands. A few minutes later:

“I think I found it!” Harry cried. His friends joined him at a shallow hill that had been bisected at some point, exposing its rocky innards. Near the ground and concealed by shrubbery the crest of the house of Valeron glowed in the light of the full moon: two winged snakes twined around a book with holes in it.

“There’s some heavy symbolism there,” Hermione said, crouching down. “Shall we begin?”

An hour and a meter of dirt later, Orion’s trowel struck metal. The friends looked at each other, then abandoned their shovels in unison, excavating the box with their hands. Soon, they hefted a metal box to the surface. A thick chain encircled it and a padlock held it shut.

“I’m getting bad vibes,” Ron said, standing and backing away. “No one puts a big, bloody chain on a box with only a head in it without good reason.”

“Perhaps it was one of Lord Valeron’s enemies, to punish him in the after life.” Orion pointed out. “In any case, I won’t have come all this way for nothing.”

He brandished his wand. “Alohomora,” he said.

Nothing.

“It makes sense that a chest this protected couldn’t be unlocked by a simple charm,” Hermione mused.

“We could try the old fashioned way,” Harry suggested. “Smash it off with a rock.”

“Maybe we don’t need to open it,” Hermione said. She tugged on Harry’s backpack. “We want to talk to a ghost, remember? Ghosts can phase through things. All we have to do is wake him up.”

Hermione retrieved the candles, sherry, and seance book. They arranged five candles in a circle around the box and lit them with magic.

“Animum sapientis,” she intoned, pouring the sherry over the box. “Accipit, expergiscimini, surrecturus!”

Only the chirping of crickets and the whistling of the wind could be heard on the small hillock.

“Did you hear that?” Orion asked.

When the others only gave him blank stares, he crouched before the box, tilting his head toward it. “I hear something inside,” he said, and the others fell to their knees, too.

“Dementor?” he repeated, then shook his head. “No, dimittere. Dimittere mortuis.” The candles all extinguished at once, and the padlock unhinged with a clink.

For a long moment, none of the children moved, but all stared at the box. Orion reached forward, removed the lock, and swept the chains off the chest.

He reeled back when the lid flew open of its own accord. A skull rolled forward in the tiny casket, its blazing green eyes flicking from person to person.

“My greatest gratitude to you youths!” it haled in a high-pitched trill. “I’d almost despaired of anyone setting me free.”

“Much obliged,” Hermione said with a small curtsy.

“But we’re here with a purpose,” Orion said. “We were told you knew— secrets.”

“Everyone knows secrets, my boy,” The skull of Lord Valeron pointed out. “Are the secrets I know worth sharing? That’s the question.”

“I’m guessing your secrets have something to do with the afterlife and immortality,” Harry posited, his arms crossed over his chest, “or we wouldn’t even be able to have this conversation face to face.”

“Or face to.. bone?” Ron corrected.

“Clever children,” the head replied. “But I like to keep my secrets. However, as a show of gratitude, here’s what I’ll do. You can ask me three questions, and if I like them, I’ll answer them.”

“How about, you answer our questions or we lock you back in the box?” Ron threatened.

The head leered at him, but then, the skinless face always appeared to be leering. “I think you’ll find locking this chest will be infinitely more difficult than unlocking it.”

“Fine,” Orion interjected. “We take you offer.”

“Alright,” the head fixed its fiery gaze on Orion. “First question.”

“How is your ghost split into two pieces without the other half not being able to find you?”

Lord Valeron sighed. “The obvious question, but I’ll humor you. Secret number one: I didn’t die from decapitation.”

The wizards exchanged surprised glances.

“I made known that once I passed on, I wished for my head to be removed, put in this box, and sent to my ancestral home in Scotland. The chains and ridiculous hiding spot were not my idea. But how did I do it?” The green eyes squinted up. “It was simple, really, but also wholly dependent on my personality. Or rather, personalities.” The head rolled its eyes, and Orion imagined he’d be shrugging if he had shoulders. “I had a split personality, one I didn’t quite get on with. So the one part of my consciousness got my body after death, and I inherited the head. Seems like I got the short end of the deal, literally, but I don’t mind. I do love to talk.”

A vibrating sensation buzzed behind Orion’s left eye and an odd excitement zinged through his limbs. Orion swallowed hard. This wasn’t good: Artemis had had an epiphany.

Hermione frowned. “Why did—“

“Would it be possible to separate a ghost from a body, before the person were dead?”

Hermione looked at him with confusion and dawning horror.

Orion, on the other hand, was confused by the words tumbling out of his mouth in Artemis’s voice. As soon as they had been spoken, the vibration stopped.

Lord Valeron blinked. “You catch on swiftly: a wizard after my own heart. I did do some experiments in that vein during my life. The nearest I got to succeeding cost me my own life. Let’s see if you can ascertain: what creature do we know who specializes in the extraction of souls?”

Harry’s green eyes widened. “Dementors,” he whispered.

Lord Valeron winked at him. “Right you are. I allowed a dementor to suck out my soul with the intention of cutting it off midstream and releasing my ghost, or half of it, at least. But I underestimated the its power, my plan backfired, and, well—“

Ron frowned. “That makes no sense. Dementors don’t kill, they feed on the soul. If it backfired, shouldn’t you have turned into a soulless husk with no ghost to haunt Hogwarts?”

“And why did someone chain you up and hide you in the woods?” Hermione asked.

The head cackled. “An excellent question. One I’d be delighted to answer.”

The skull floated above the casket on a cloud of green, which swirled and solidified into a skeletal shape.

“Why did they hide me away? Because I was my last experiment. And along the way, I figured out how to destroy the soul from the inside.” He flexed his new body, and a shimmering robe materialized over it, held closed by a belt in the shape of a snake. “A happy side effect, when one’s goal is to take over Hogwarts. And now I can fulfill that dream from beyond the grave,” Lord Valeron stepped out of the box and past the circle of candles. “Thanks to you.”

#and they keep making things worse #hogwarts au #orion fowl #Hermione Granger #Harry Potter #Ron Weasley

102 notes · View notes

momestuck · 6 years ago

Text

Let’s read Hiveswap Friendsim... volume 17!

The penultimate volume. Let’s sacrifice a few more timelines to the great tapestry of fate that we’re weaving. Or more likely, Doc Scratch is weaving.

This time, “Of Teen and Tech, Acerbic”.

One more jade, and one more indigo. I think at this point we have a pretty even spread across the non-Sea Troll blood colours.

Daraya

I thought there was a TV show of this name, but apparently it’s ‘Daria’. This troll and that Daria seem to have a similar attitude, judging by the image. As for ‘Daraya’, it refers to a handful of places, notably Darayya in Syria, which was apparently the site of a massacre seven years ago during the civil war. Oof.

Daraya is the final troll written by Cee. L. Kyle, creator of prior memorable trolls Bronya, Zebruh, Remele and Lynera. I guess Cee likes writing jades.

Anyway, Daraya’s route begins as a few have in recent episodes - the protag feeling lethargic and listless, too tired to make friends.

We end up in a cerulean neighbourhood. There are some pointed lines...

When this game wants to, it really skewers its targets.

Anyway, the music kicks in as we realise Elwurd (the huge lesbian) texted us to invite us to a party. A bunch of other trolls seem to be showing up as well...

The track this time is called “trollkind cannot gain anything without first giving something in return. to obtain something, something of equal value must be lost. that is alchemys first law of equivalent exchange. in those days, we really believed that to be the worlds one and only truth”. No prizes for guessing who decided to name a song after an extended quote from Fullmetal Alchemist.

There’s some more emphasis on how artificial our friendship feelings are...

Anyway, as we approach the party, we spot Daraya, busy looking very goffick.

She’s not thrilled to see us. Of course we’d be friends with Elwurd, she says grumpily.

Now in Befriend Mode, we do our best to mimic her whole ‘disaffected slouch’. Apparently being vaguely cynical and depressed is pleasing to Daraya. She seems to like Elwurd though...

Lesbians, I swear...

I swear...

Anyway, we learn that Daraya has snuck out of the caverns - though she’s not as restricted as little Wanshi. She whines about Bronya’s ‘cloister rules’. But hey, she met Elwurd through Bronya...

We blather about how the caves aren’t so bad, and namedrop some other jades we know. Daraya is not impressed.

Anyway, she’s not invited. So our first choice is to tell her to go home or invite her in.

Let’s let her in, because the other way doesn’t seem to go anywhere interesting.

Bronya isn’t the only troll we know at this party. Chahut apparently hasn’t yet shipped out off planet, and she shows up too.

Chahut makes some remarks about how fascinating she finds jadebloods... or ‘greenies’ as she puts it. She makes a murder joke about whether Daraya is really jade or not.

Yes, that’s exactly how I’d put it. Definitely.

After that brief brush with death, Daraya gets other ideas.

Mmhmm. As we head off, Daraya suggests we have a reputation for being ‘unconventional, weird and rebellious’. That’s certainly one way to describe ‘being a clueless alien pathologically addicted to making friends’.

Ahahaha nicely done.

Unfortunately we don’t have a lot of edgy rebellious ideas tonight.

I’m in favour of being a hoodlum.

Lots of new backgrounds in this episode. Somewhat different style too...

Apparently these are by Phil Gibson.

We ask Daraya how she’s doing. Her answer: not well.

Daraya says some dangerously radical stuff about how everything sucks for everyone but the highbloods... and maybe them too. We get a callback to the joke from last time...

Ha.

The narrator refuses to comment on that. That’s a good call, I think.

Daraya continues to complain. As a jadeblood, she’s not going to have to go into space, but life in the caverns tending to matters of social reproduction. We commiserate, which she appreciates.

We raise an eyebrow at the mention of Lynera. Danara assures us that she hates her - and not in a romantic way! (“or well...”)

At that point, we run into Tyzias. Just the person to take Daraya’s alienation and dissatisfaction and forge it into a revolutionary will, right?

Luckily, protag has the same idea. Which is no doubt why Tyzias was written into the plot at this point.

The well known “goth to anarchist” pipeline, right?

There’s a brief allusion to the weird shift that happened with Fozzer - a vague memory of a different Fozzer. “But why did you remember that guy?” indeed.

Tyzias tries to give a Daraya a little pep talk against hopelessness... Daraya is not particularly persuaded.

God I know that utterly depressing feel. What can one troll do, indeed?

Tyzias answers it the challenge.

She’s not wrong.

Daraya is not exactly being won over, but the protag does manage to get her to chill a bit and keep the conversation going. Tyzias has more real shit to say.

Daraya challenges her - is it just about making herself feel better, if there’s no realistic hope of real change? Tyzias says... in some way, it is. And the protag chimes in - that doesn’t make it less effective, at whatever little it is achieving.

At the end of this, I’m gonna try and make a list like... troll I would most want to be friends with in real life, and least, favourite route and so on. Spoilers: Tyzias would be the friend I’d want to make.

Tyzias points out like... what the hell else are they gonna do? Daraya finally admits she’s got a point.

And... having secured a friendship between not just us and Daraya, but us and Tyzias... we reach the end of the arc.

Let’s go fuck shit up. By which we mean, read law books. I guess!

That was nice. I fully support this lesbian goth and her budding revolutionary consciousness.

God I’m predictable.

Unfortunately, finding the friendship route here means it’s all downhill from here.

If we tell her to go home instead of bringing her to the party...

strut pod encasements!

That was predictably short.

OK, now for the non-phoned in side branch.

She does have an idea, it turns out. We hop into our (now quite low on fuel) car, and head off to a ruined city somewhere near the thriving one we’re living in.

Ooh. I wonder what we’ll find?

We make our way to an abandoned mall to go urbexing. Fuck, I love reading about urbex. Too much of a shut-in to have ever actually tried it.

We end up in a food court with the roof caved in. It’s apparently cool as hell. Alas, it’s not illustrated.

I’m not sure which rebellion this would be associated with. That of the Signless, or some other?

Ah, that narrows it down. The Signless rebellion, then. In which case... Alternian malls are really built to last!

We comment on the strangeness of the absence of adults, but this upsets Daraya.

Apparently, as an adult, she’ll be cloistered off on her own somewhere, and forbidden to contribute genes to the slurry. Huh.

To be honest, it’s a wonder that most other trolls are so cheery. Daraya’s attitude seems like the sensible one on this planet.

Daraya says some real shit about the existential dread she’s living with, the paralysing hopelessness of having no future to speak of.

Hey Daraya, do you fancy this copy of Baedan I happen to have on hand?

make total destroy etc. etc.

Anyway, at this point... Daraya somehow manages to set the mall on fire by throwing a mall at a cooker.

And... the narrator has no choice but to leave, as Daraya lets herself burn in the centre of the mall, one of the few places she cared about.

God, this episode was a bit real lol.

It’s not wrong though. Leftist theory certainly hasn’t cured my depression (lol), but it has given me some perspective to put it in a context where it can be managed, I guess. Something to work towards, no matter how futile it may be, in this fucking hell world that created me.

In the words of 2B... “Everything that lives is designed to end. We are perpetually trapped in a never-ending cycle of life and death. Is this a curse? Some kind of punishment? I often think about the god who blessed us with this cryptic puzzle... and wonder if I will ever get the chance to kill him.”

Let’s look to the struggle within the cycle. What else is there?

Nihkee

So now for...

Nihkee. She stronk. Keep your pants on, lesbians.

Nihkee is the creation of David Turbull, who previously made Tegiri (weeb) and Tirona (baby lawyer). Her theme, appropriately bombastic, is another James Roach piece with a long name: “lmao i still dont know if it’s nicky or nike (like the shoe, not like... the name mike)”. Make of that what you will.

This episode opens in media res - at a sporting arena. How did we get here?

We seem to be watching some kind of cage fight. Knowing trolls, I imagine it will be a lethal one.

Apparently we’re attending to Amisia. She bemoans the ‘boorishness’ of the purplebloods.

This seems to be the troll equivalent of pro-wrestling, rather than, say, MMA. However, injuries are a lot more common. We learn that Amisia won us tickets in a raffle, and invited us to this ‘Display of Muscular Theatre’.

We are watching The Huntress (olive) fight Cullpitz (purple). The narration mentions that Cullpitz is bizarrely un-clowny.

The fights are, naturally, rigged by hemospectrum. The narration notes that The Huntress seems to be deliberately holding back to avoid inciting the crowd. Amisia, however, is excited for the next competitor: Nihkee Moolah of course, who - Amisia claims - has never lost a fight.

Cullpitz wins the fight, and causes The Huntress a likely permanent injury. The protag feels sick enough to have to step away. But as we leave, we get drawn into a conversation with a violetblood (seadweller). He promises money (nah), fame (no thank you) and at last, friendship. And the deal is sealed.

Unfortunately, Nihkee’s opponent is dead. Which means... he wants us to take their place. Having an alien will make big money for the ring.

Let me guess: the choice is gonna be to refuse this terrible plan or go with it.

Maybe, but not yet...

We meet Nihkee, in the middle of working out. Some of these trolls are dressed more for MMA than pro-wrestling but who knows.

There’s a meta joke in the narration.

She is not best pleased with the showrunner for interrupting her prep. Though, I get the impression it’s all in the spirit of showtrollship.

Sure are some muscles. I’m not entirely sure what the [()] typing quirk is menat to represent exactly. Probably not a yonic symbol?

It’s worth noting at this point that all of my knowledge of professional wrestling comes from reading the TVTropes pages a couple of times. If you’re curious, it’s an impressively comprehensive discussion of wrestling terminology and the various dynamics involved in its production.

Kayfabe is the way wrestlers pretend in their media appearances that pro-wrestling competitions are not mostly scripted athletic performances with exaggerated personas, but genuine fights between real people who actually act like their stage characters. Now all the fans fully understand that wrestling is fake (but still fun), it’s not taken as seriously, but apparently it was a huge deal back in the 70s. Give the article a read, it’s fascinating.

Nihkee is not particularly impressed by the suggestion of performing with us.

We protest. At length.

We get the first choice: are we ready for a BUTT CLENCHING, FLESH ABRADING, KNUCKLE BLISTERING, MUSCLE RIPPLING, SMACKDOWN FROM UPTOWN?

Of course we fucking are.

She gives us guidelines for the show. Basically: follow her storyline. “The alien invader challenges me in an exhibition match to TOPPLE the MIGHTIARCHY.” We struggle, but eventually...

...PREVAILS AGAIN!

(I guess to convey suitable drama, a lot of Nihkee’s dialogue is split between multiple dialogue boxes, which makes it a little hard to take screenshots.)

We ask if we’ll die. She assures us no - unless we’re especially weak. But even then...

Well, that’s a great reason to die. Sign me up.

Secondly, an “exhibition match” means we will not be challenging each other for positions on the “flexeladder” - otherwise we’d have to wrestle nude, like at the “Intergalactic Trollympics”. I’d count that as a blessing.

We bring up the question of face and heel. You can read about these on tvtropes, but the narrator does a pretty good job of explaining.

In troll society, of course, the traits we’d ascribe to a ‘heel’ are valorised. So we’re just going to get crushed under her heel. Indeed.

Time for the match. The showrunner does the announcement for Nihkee.

In a clear allusion to good old Equius, Nihkee’s entrance is accompanied by a shower of thrown glasses of milk from the fans.

And opposing her whole deal is...

“Some messed up lowblood alien”. Huh, usually when I go into an arena fight in games I’m the “mysterious stranger”. Who could have seen this coming?

Ah, that’s what fate was working towards this whole time! Thanks, Doc Scratch, for your dedication to the cause of wrestling.

So, naturally, we’re playing the foreigner. Here to prove our superiority to trollkind. TVTropes naturally has an article on this: the Foreign Wrestling Heel. We’re going by the book here.

We put up a good bit of bravado. But are we prepared to face, Nihkee demands, her...

OK, you got me. I’m laughing out loud again.

The protagonist puts up a pretty good show, it seems like - barely dodging Nihkee’s attacks in a suitably dramatic fashion. We bleed, but the narration suggests that under the stage lights, the trolls will take it as ordinary ‘rust’ blood and not ‘mutant’ red. We hope.

Nihkee invites us to attack with appropriate pomp. But we...

...don’t do that, not directly. We springboard off the edge of the cage in “a classic clothesline manoeuvre”... and get knocked the fuck out.

But we haven’t reached our second decision point yet, so that can’t be the end of us. Hopefully we gave the trolls what they wanted.

Do we even have a fourth wall anymore?

Anyway, this turns out to be Nihkee’s hive. She is not impressed at our ring performance - getting knocked out by our own attack. Well, that’s fair.

Training montage incoming?

Hell yes. (She calls everyone sister, including the announcer guy, in case you’re wondering if that’s an implicit gendering of the protag.)

She’s brought us to her BRAWNISEUM. As we can see in the illustration... it’s pretty much made for Space Marines to train at.

After her speech about our indomitable will and potential, she invites us to ASCEND with her.

Hell yeah. Let’s [S] ASCEND together!

Of course we fucking take it.

We start with the acid treadmill. (The acid doesn’t seem to be depicted.) She turns it up... a bit fast.

We manage to run at 12 miles per hour - which is about bronze level good. Apparently all the machines rate us by blood colour. While the low end of the hemospectrum gets the badass psychic powers, the high end gets the physical strength, it seems. There’s more jokes about how great our legs are - they merit a cerulean!

All the while, Nihkee ‘encourages’ us in a way that’s gendered in the opposite way that things usually are on Earth.

After half an hour of that, she gives us a protein shake... except it’s not a protein shake but ‘gatorade mixed with milk’. Amazing.

Then we get tested for ‘pressure resistance’ in a soft iron maiden. Apparently that’s olive level.

The overall verdict?

Hooray.

We do more of this - including getting chased by a literal toothy monster. By the time we finally collapse...

She’s impressed by our commitment - our “strength of heart and soul”. And our great appreciation for the MOST RIGHTEOUS OF PURSUITS... earns us the recognition of “workout friend”.

And that rounds out the arc. Presumably after some more of this, the narrator will be due for a return to the ring.

Go us!

Easy arc to find the right answers in, evidently. Now to see what happens if we hesitate.

First of all, before the match...

We can’t watch as she pulls out lowblood challengers from the audience and smashes their faces into the spikes. Oh, trolls. We get treated to an image of this, too.

Mmm, indeed.

Now, if we hesitate later before the workout session...

She dismisses us - unworthy of her gifts, unwilling to reach our full potential.

She tells us to get out of her sight. The narration steps in to make another meta joke (that’s like three this arc?)

We get a fake out fade to black and the first note of the end card music... but then!

...GET RIIII(...)IIIPPPPPED! In our own way.

D --> Hmm, 100k at this e%tremely subtle reference.

Anyway, that someone turns out to be... Stelsa! And Tyzias, who happens to be present. There’s a brief discussion of a fast food service called ‘door smash’, and Stelsa’s love of scheduling. They’re cute together.

But let’s get down to business... to defeat...

...our own flimsiness.

Stelsa’s into it.

Then we hang with her and Tyzias for a bit. We suggest Tyzias might consider energy drinks.

This arc then extends over... a long time!

Multiple weeks! And the training seems to be going well...

It’s almost as if ‘drill sergeant’ isn’t the ideal demeanour for a coach after all.

But as we go to show off our progress to Nihkee, the question of this being a non-canon branch leads us to hesitate.

So we decide to ‘blitz our chakras’ to try and work this out. We put on some ocean noises (which leads to a change in the soundtrack! soft music starts playing, seguing into the menu music) and... start imagining some metaphors.

In our reverie, we slip beneath the surface of the river.

Things get kind of meta. I’m just gonna take a bunch of screenshots because this seems... important.

The images of failed branches, all these catastrophes, blur together on top of each other.

We are implored to ‘find our river’. And we find the two branches of the current route... one sounding much more inviting than the other.

Then things get REALLY meta.

And then we get the rest of the arc in some kind of summary form, all in this... letterboxed? That’s not the right word, but whatever... all in this view. Nihkee is not pleased to see us. We come up with the idea of sneaking in.

It does not seem to end well.

She chases us on one leg and we escape by getting her run over by a train. But she becomes a cyborg coming to chase us down, terminator-like. Yeah, seriously.

NIHKEEBORG spends a year hunting us across the wilderness. And eventually... she catches us. We die.

And coming out of the meditation, we decide... not to do that. We just go to Stelsa’s house instead, and let Nihkee be.

Oof.

God, you never know what you’re going to stumble onto in this game. That was amazing.

Next time: FINAL CHAPTER.

#momestuck #lets read hiveswap friendsim

8 notes · View notes

swagyano · 7 years ago

Text

Casually dating a werewolf

Pairing: DiaRiko

Word count: 2,764

Hello so this is based on the diariko werewolf au in which dia is dating a big woof!riko I’ve mentioned a couple of times and spoke about a lot on twitter! This kind of like an experimental oneshot, I guess? I just wanted to write something really badly and it ended up being....really fluff. Anyways I’ve been thinking about writing somewhat(?) linear short stories for it and have this like an introduction or something, so ya! The au itself is still being polished. Big thanks to Michelle and Robin for taking time of their lives to proofread and help polish it up I owe u a lot

Anyways hope u guys like dia being a furry

The evening was especially peaceful for Dia Kurosawa, seeing as it was one of few rare occasions where she got to relax. Mixing between college classes, part time job at the pet store, and social life she miraculously has is more exhausting than she ever expected, and that’s not including the studying and work around home she did in between.

It felt like she finished high school only yesterday, excited about her independence and everything that came along with being an adult. If only she could turn back the clock and have at least one day where her biggest worry was finishing homework on time. Now she’s here at 20, living alone with her younger sister. Despite it all, there was nothing she could find to complain about. As messy as it could get, her life felt fine the way it was.

She was alone on this Saturday evening, phone ignored on the side whenever she’d see Mari’s name pop up with a new text message, assuming it was yet another on of her “ wish you were here with us :( “ selfies that she keeps sending in a poor attempt to still convince her to come out of her home. Dia however, decided hours ago to spend this time in silence with calming music and a good book in her hand.

Her moment of peace was broken by ruckus outside, loud enough to catch her attention. She gazed towards the small yard, brows furrowing. Ruby returned from her date about an hour ago, and it was easy to assume by now she was asleep in her room. Maybe she’d shrug it off, if the clanking on the trash bins didn’t happen again.

Of course, this was Dia, so going out there to check wasn’t happening without caution. In a rushed moment, she decided to grab a frying pan before making her way to the glass door that lead outside. Her eyes squinted by reflex so her vision could adjust to the pitch darkness, and when she heard rustling around the bushes she spent her free time tending to, she raised her pan higher. However a few steps was all it took for her to spot the familiar tuft of dark fur… yes, fur.

Her shoulders relaxed, and she released a relieved sigh.

“Riko-chan.”

As soon as she called out, a big wolf-like head perked up from the bush along with a pair of large round amber eyes shining with excitement. The game of hide and seek was over, and Riko pushed her way out of the bush and paced over to the one who cautiously found her.

They were now eye to eye, Riko tilting her head down in order to do so. Dia smiled warmly. It was almost like she wasn’t facing a furry, pointy-snouted, sharp toothed monster that was taller than her by almost a head; the sight of which would make any man run away in fear. Especially in the dark.

And why would she do so, when this was none other than her adorable, sweet girlfriend?

Dia herself wasn’t sure how it happened either. It was a while ago that she learned the truth about the shy, flustered girl that became a regular at the pet store she worked at is in fact a werewolf. It wasn't easy to take it in, but it wasn't as hard to accept as she thought it would be. Like anyone she was aware of monsters’ existence due to the town’s (sometimes) friendly attitude, but had only actually known one prior to meeting Riko.

There were many things she still didn't know. She didn't understand why it was when the moon was full that the transformation was unavoidable, or how she grew taller whenever it happened (though it did explain why she wore clothes a size or two bigger). But one thing she did know; somehow she had developed feelings for Riko over the course of the time they’d known each other.

She gingerly extended her hand, and Riko immediately buried her snout into the warm touch with a nuzzle. The brunette frowned upon realization she must've been lonely, as it was Riko’s own decision to isolate herself during the full moon for reasons she never spoke about. Although Dia was willing to bet it was due to her insecurities.

Pulling closer, she rested her own forehead against Riko’s fuzzy one, and the the amber orbs blinked in content as she nudged forward affectionately. This elicited a rare chuckle out of Dia that only Riko had the honors of hearing. In the corner of her eye she spotted the smallest tail wag.

“What were you thinking?” The question was scolding, but her voice calm and loving. “Worrying me like this…”

There was an apologetic huff followed by pointy ears flattening against her head.

“It’s fine, but next time at least call me. Even Yoshiko-san didn't have an answer to provide when I asked her if she’s seen you today. Alright?”

The solemn nod should be enough of an indication that Riko truly did feel bad for worrying her and that she plans to work on her mistakes. This whole relationship stuff was still new to both of them. And even in this monstrous wolf form, Dia could recognize the softness of Riko’s genuine smile. She returned it and grabbed the gigantic paw-like hand into her own, tugging her much stronger girlfriend back inside like it was nothing.

“Come, now! In we go before we get too cold. Don’t think that all that fur of yours will stop you from sneezing tomorrow if you're not careful.”

Riko of course happily obliged and followed, embracing the warmth of Dia’s home with a sharp inhale. As soon as they entered she took a crouching position and without giving Dia a moment to process what was about to happen, she took an inhuman leap across the living room and landed on the couch. It creaked and the brunette cringed both visibly and audibly at the thought of it breaking, but hey at least the carpet was untouched. And Riko had already made herself comfortable. You should feel lucky you're so cute.

While Riko was busy burying her snout into the cozy pillow, Dia headed to the kitchen. She shortly returned with a box of dog biscuits in her hands, something no person without a dog would own. In this case, she didn't mind spending extra money on them. It still felt weird seeing Riko eat them on daily basis. Even when she was told the reason she liked them was because they were like brownies to her (a comparison Dia had trouble wrapping her mind around but it did almost tempt her to try them), she had settled on treating Riko to her favorite snack. Only after a couple of failed attempts to satisfy her cravings with something more normal, like cookies.

At the sight of the brunette Riko scooted over, allowing her to sit back into her previous spot - only to flop on top of her, earning an ‘oof’ and disapproving look from fragile looking Dia.

“I don't think you're aware of your own weight.”

But Riko showed no care about it, finding enjoyment laying on top of her girlfriend and already preoccupied with crunching on the dog biscuits that were meant for her, leaving Dia to sigh helplessly. Not that she minded completely, because Riko was warm.

Now that she thought about it, it wasn't much different from when they'd cuddle when Riko wasn't in this form. It was silent, cozy, comforting.

With a smile Dia returned to her book, every now and then moving her free hand to stroke the top of Riko’s head. It wasn't long before the werewolf in question drifted off to sleep.

“So much for the creature of night, huh..?”

When she said she wouldn't change anything about her current life, she meant it. That included her odd looking relationship she never expected, nor planned to have. If a year ago someone told her she'd fall in love with a scary looking, soft natured werewolf she'd laugh in their face. It was strange but Dia was content, and friends of both parties had been nothing but wonderful and supportive. Riko seemed more happy as of late too, which truly mattered.

A single ear twitched when Dia placed a soft kiss on her snout.

The first thing she felt upon gaining consciousness was the horrible headache that could be easily described as having her head split open. Which was something one grew used to the morning after a full moon. The next were the rays of sunlight that were bothersome even through her closed eyelids, making her shut them even tighter as soon as she felt tears forming in the corner of her eyes. After releasing a big yawn, everything else slowly started coming to her.

Riko became aware of soft breathing beneath her, only then realizing that no, she was not laying on the soft mattress of her bed, but rather on a person. Blood rushed to her cheeks when she finally remembered that in a moment of loneliness she decided the best thing to do would be to show up at her girlfriend's place at such a late hour. Still in a haze and struggling to open her eyes, a tender feeling of fingers threading through her hair with caution prompted a whine out of her. She finally did after blinking a couple of times to adjust to the light, and she was met with emerald hues. Serene, yet in a way mischievous.

“D-Dia… good morning.”

Of course she'd be awake already. Dia had always been an early bird, at least as long as she’d known her. The older girl shifted underneath her, chuckling when Riko hid her face in the crook of her neck out of pure embarrassment. The comforting motion of fingers combing through her messy auburn hair did not stop.

“Are you always a heavy sleeper when you fall asleep like that, Riko-chan?” ‘That’ of course referring to her other form.

She pouted, glad that Dia could not catch a glimpse of her embarrassed expression right now. Being teased first thing in the morning wasn't the ideal way to wake up, but it worked.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to intrude like this. I just wanted to see you for a little, but then… ah, I kind of kept you on that couch all night, didn't I?”

“You're fine.”

So she said, but was Dia fine? Riko sometimes had weird habits of falling asleep anywhere, but even she imagined being stuck on the couch with someone a little heavier all night must be extremely uncomfortable. If she really did have any complaints, she didn't voice them. It was almost unbelievable how patient Dia was with her, and had been since day one.

The empty box of biscuits was nudged with a noise when she moved her hand that was hanging off of the couch to rub at her tired eyes. The headache was still present, and it must be obvious enough by the way Dia's brows furrowed in worry.

“I could go look for some painkillers if you’d like.”

“Mm, I’ll be fine.”

Dia still seemed skeptical, so Riko gave her a sleepy but reassuring smile. The first time Dia witnessed her like this she threw an entire fuss, and Riko found it hard to explain why exactly she ended up feeling this way every single time. The best way she could’ve really described it as being hangover. Not that she ever experienced one, but it sounded about the same when she was reading up the symptoms online once.

Moments of silence passed by as the two lay there. Dia was familiar enough with how long it took Riko to fully wake up in the mornings after such nights, and Riko was greatly appreciative of the time she’d give her. Especially knowing the brunette liked to stay on her schedule. Sometimes she couldn’t help but to worry she was a little bit of a burden because of it. Her arms wrapped around the other with a tight squeeze, earning a curious glance from Dia.

“I’m sorry for not telling you anything yesterday.” The sudden rubbing on her back caused her to shudder. Dia said nothing and allowed her to continue, “I wanted to pay you a visit at work but I wasn’t feeling too well. I didn’t want to cause any trouble for you when you already have your hands full.”

“Riko,” A little sternly, Dia tilted her head up so they could speak face to face.

“You should know by now that’s absolute nonsense, have I not told you so already?” Riko felt a pang of guilt strike as her girlfriend frowned. “I understand why you prefer to hide. But I want you to learn to trust me. I’m here for you.”

“I know.” Murmuring softly, Riko snuggled in closer. “You always have been… sorry.”

“No more of that, okay?” With that topic out of the way, Dia’s voice regained the softness that made Riko feel all fuzzy inside.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Guiltily, she pouted and cast her gaze aside. “It’s why I’m here now, after all…”

Dia chuckled and shuffled around more, now focusing on fixing up Riko’s blouse as it hung loosely, covering up her exposed shoulder while Riko let out another big yawn. She forgot to cover her mouth and left her sharp teeth out for the world to see. Luckily, only one person was here to witness it.

They were both in the sitting position now with Riko on her lap and cheeks cupped in those tender warm hands. Carefully, as if making sure she wouldn’t break something fragile, Dia placed a soft kiss on her forehead and the blood instantly came rushing to her cheeks again. For all she cared this was much better than any gross tasting medicine.

“Allow me to make you breakfast. Your stomach has been rumbling for an hour, it’s a surprise you haven’t woken up sooner.”

“No it hasn’t!” Right on cue Riko was exposed by a loud grumble coming from her own body. She ducked her head in embarrassment as soon as she caught a glance of the wry smirk. “Food sounds nice…”

“Wonderful. It’ll make up for not seeing each other yesterday, right?”

Amber eyes glowed as she nodded excitedly, shyness pushed away for the moment to lean in and steal the first morning kiss.

However, as soon as their lips connected, they got distracted by a click.

Riko’s head jerked up in a wary manner, Dia’s gaze following her’s across the room.

“Ehe... morning Sis, Riko-chan!”

Ruby, Dia’s little sister, stood at the doorstep. Phone decorated in cute keychains in her hand and a bright smile on her face. The two she addressed lacked the same enthusiasm she was showing in this moment, not finding time to even get embarrassed for getting caught.

“Hope you slept well! Ah, Riko-chan,”

The younger girl hummed with her gaze now focused on the phone. Riko broke eye contact as well, trying hard to ignore the blood boiling in her ears.

“Yoshiko-chan asked if you were here. I’m sure she will love to see for herself-”

“H-Hold on-”

“Ruby.”

It was Dia who interfered with their conversation. If there was one person Dia rarely spoke so sternly to, it was Ruby. Yet here, seeing her with that deadpan expression as Ruby did nothing but continued to smile innocently, even Riko felt a shiver run down her spine.

“Delete that.”

“I’m sorry sis, I’m afraid I can’t do that… not after all the dishes I’ve had to do last Friday. Sooo, did I overhear something about breakfast gathering?”

“Ruby!”

Like wind she was gone. Already chasing the twintailed girl out the window shouting something that quickly became inaudible when mixed with Ruby’s laughter, even to someone with great hearing like Riko.

Still feeling loopy, Riko finally got up with a groan that resembled a growl and stretching out her limbs. It was too early for a game of fetch, so she’d let Dia enjoy it on her own. She really probably should give her roommate a call and see if there was a way to blackmail her to never mention that image.

Why did it feel like days after the full moon were always the wildest ones? Humans must be affected in a way too. Riko shook her head with a pitiful smile at the thought. They still had it easier.

#love live sunshine #diariko #riko sakurauchi #dia kurosawa #werewolf au #i swear it wasnt supposed to be as fluffy as it is but also fluff is good so i mean #love dia and her furry gf #my writing stuff #i gotta add other fics to this tag LOL #this is supposed to be like insight on their relationship ig #woobys gf is yoshi btwwwwww

78 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 8 years ago

Text

If You Need Anything (Alexis/Peppermint) - Mac

AN: This is a weird pairing. Trust me. I know. But I am trying to jazz up my writing a bit, so bear with me. This is more of a friendship fic than anything, but there could be romantic undertones if you interpret it a certain way. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Peppermint has to get her wisdom teeth out, so she asks Alexis to accompany her.

Alexis was currently, and had been, stuck in a subway car for the past hour and a half. That wasn’t the main problem though. No, the problem was that while sitting in this stuffy subway car, she had a lap full of a drugged out Peppermint who was babbling and throwing her limbs around like, well, someone who was drugged.

Alexis had said it in passing. It was just something people say, not expecting anyone to ever call you out. “Let me know if you need anything.” That one little sentence had started this whole situation.

Well actually the phone call had started this whole situation. Alexis’ hesitance to answer when her phone first rang made her feel guilty, but who could really blame her. It’s not like she and Peppermint were terribly good pals. They didn’t chat, not if they could help it. Not to say that they didn’t like each other, just that, it was weird. Ever since filming had wrapped, they had been weirdly indifferent towards each other. Neither of them was quite sure why it was so strange. Sure, they had clashed a bit during the show, but nothing to the level of say, Sharon and PhiPhi.

There was just a strange sort of tension between the two. Maybe because they never really resolved their differences. Who knows? Not Alexis.

Peppermint had asked with a hesitant voice. “Hey, I know you and I aren’t besties by a long shot, but I need some help. You offered one time.” There was a pause. “To help, I mean.”

Alexis’ mind was too busy running through all the possible scenarios that could have led to this conversation to catch the beginning of Peppermint’s next phrase.

“without thinking, but you are my last chance.”

“What is it?”

“I am getting my wisdom teeth out Friday, and I need someone to go with me.” Peppermint said all of this quite fast, Alexis’ second clue to her hesitance of asking for this favor.

“No problem. What time?” Alexis surprised herself by her lack of hesitation.

They had talked for a few more awkward minutes about the logistics, before Peppermint awkwardly hung up with a “Thanks.”

Alexis didn’t think much more about the conversation; each time it popped up, she pushed it to the back of her thoughts, along with a feeling in her chest that felt akin to unease.

The day finally arrived, and Alexis showed up twenty minutes early in her anxiousness. She strolled back and forth in front of Peppermint’s apartment for five of those minutes before resolving to just get over herself and knock on the door. Right as she raised her hand, the door swung open. Alexis caught a brief glimpse of what she assumed to be the living room before the figure of her friend filled her view. Friend? Alexis’ mind questioned.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Hi. You are early.” Peppermint was smiling a little knowing smile that made Alexis wonder if Peppermint had seen her pacing.

Alexis wiped her palms subtly on her jeans and didn’t meet Peppermint’s eyes. “Yeah. Didn’t want to make you late.”

“How very kind of you.” That smile made Alexis’ stomach twist again, but this time it wasn’t in unease, and she felt a twitch in her lips in response to the twist in her stomach.

A few beats of silence passed where Peppermint stared expectantly at Alexis who was just staring back. “Right, well, shall we go?”

The trip to the subway and the subsequent ride passed without issue. Unless you count the uncharacteristic smile that graced Alexis’ face every time she and Peppermint made eye contact. Actually scratch that, the subway ride was the most fun Alexis had had with another person in a while.

She and Peppermint traded crazy subway stories, and that turned into crazy fan encounters, which turned into just crazy stories. The time passed surprisingly quickly, and Alexis found herself surprised by her reluctance to let Peppermint go. She had this strange urge to get all the insane adventures out of the older queen before she left. Peppermint seemed more than happy to oblige her. They giggled and talked like schoolgirls and almost missed their stop.

In the waiting room, Alexis couldn’t help but notice the up and down motion of Peppermint’s leg.

“Are you nervous?”

“Terrified.”

“What?” Alexis was shocked. How could this amazing force of nature be scared of anything?

“Anesthesia freaks me the fuck out.” Alexis still looked a bit shocked, so Peppermint continued, “Just the thought that I could not remember an entire chunk of time is freaky.”

“It’s really not that bad.”

“You’ve had your wisdom teeth out?” Alexis nodded. “You bitch! I’ve been freaking out for the past hour about this, and you could have been comforting me!”

Peppermint’s fake offense, paired with her scandalized expression, was too much for Alexis, and she burst into a fit of laughter. “Sorry. I just didn’t think about it.”

“Didn’t think about it my ass.” Peppermint said under her breath, which triggered another stream of giggles from Alexis.

All too soon, at least in Alexis’ opinion, Peppermint was called back. But just before she stood up, Alexis reached out and squeezed her hand. A thankful look was her response.

Alexis mulled over the past hour while she waited. She tried to suss out what she was feeling.

She couldn’t.

Which was of note, because Alexis always knew why she felt the way she did. As a young kid she had learned quickly to find the source of her feelings and shut them down. People were cruel, and it seems they were always better at finding her weaknesses than she’d been. That’s why she loved theatre as much as she did; she could try someone else’s imperfections on for an hour or two. So the fact that she still had no idea why she felt so strange around Peppermint was alarming.

Before she knew it, the object of her thoughts was standing in front of her, well more like floating in front of her. The older queen’s eyes were glazed over, and a smile too big for her face chased her cheekbones.

“Hey girl. How are you-” Alexis was cut off by a firm body half falling, half embracing her.

“Alexis, my sis, how are you? Are you good? That’s good. I’m good. How are you?” Peppermint then burst into giggles.

Alexis looked at the nurse who brought Peppermint out, as if to ask ‘how much of that stuff did you give her?’ The nurse just shrugged.

Peppermint couldn’t walk, so Alexis had to do the walking for both of them. Just the thought of going back to Peppermint’s place all the way at the other end of the city, made Alexis nervous. She also didn’t trust Peppermint alone. She decided it would just be better for everyone if they went back to her place.

Easier said than done.

It was hard enough just getting Peppermint on the subway without attracting a crowd. She had to assure several security personnel that they knew each other and that Peppermint was just on painkillers. The gauze and blood in her mouth made Alexis’ story more believable, and security let her pass with only a few wary glances.

After finally getting into a subway car, Alexis thought the worst was behind her. Then the subway stopped.

Peppermint found this hilarious, and Alexis thanked whatever god existed that there was no one else in their train car, because the resounding cackle would surely have upset them.

Alexis tried to keep calm; this was New York, and subways stopped all the time. But as more and more time ticked by with no calm voice blaring over the speakers, restoring their confidence, the more worried Alexis got.

Even slaphappy Peppermint began to get a bit impatient.

“What’s going on Lexis? Are we gonna be ok?” The childish tone in her voice tugged at Alexis’ heartstrings.

“We are gonna be just fine Peppermint. Don’t worry about it.”

Peppermint wasn’t convinced. “I’m scared.” She turned her head that had previously been resting on Alexis’ shoulder, to bury it in the younger girl’s chest. Alexis found her fingers instinctively run through Peppermint’s hair, trying to comfort her. Evidently it worked, as Alexis felt Peppermint go limp in her arms and she could swear she could hear Peppermint purr.

As luck would have it, right after this rather strange exchange, the subway car jerked forward in a shaky motion and began to screech along the rails again. Only when the car screeched to another halt, this time at an actual terminal, did Alexis notice she had been stroking Peppermint’s hair the whole ride.

The adventure from the terminal to Alexis’ apartment was less of an adventure and more of an ‘Alexis drags a reluctant Peppermint for three blocks.’

Alexis’ sigh of relief when the door finally opened was audible for several blocks. Peppermint groaned as she was made to walk all ten steps to Alexis’ bed. The 'oof’ Peppermint made was also audible for several blocks.

Alexis didn’t even bat an eyelash, exhaustion winning out against her other thoughts. She did try and stand to take off her shoes, but a strong grip pulled her back to the bed.

“Stay.”

Alexis nodded, even though she saw Peppermint’s closed eyes. Alexis allowed herself to be manhandled into the most comfortable position for Peppermint to bury into. The two end up with the older queen’s head on Alexis’ chest, and their legs tangled like pasta.

Alexis huffed out a laugh, but buried her own head into the short hair of the other queen. They both were drifting in and out of consciousness when Alexis heard it. Just faintly enough that Peppermint could pretend she never said it tomorrow. “I love you Alexis.”

Alexis just 'hmmed,’ until Peppermint pulled her head up and looked at her with wide eyes, no trace of drowsiness in her features. “Don’t you love me too?”

Alexis, who was halfway conscious, and also very offended that Peppermint had pulled her head away, spoke the words without thinking about it. “Yes. Of course I love you.”

Peppermint seemed satisfied by this answer, and resumed her position on the soft chest, small smile dancing along the contours of her cheeks.

#mac #friendship fic #alexis michelle #peppermint #fluff #if you need anything #rpdr fanfiction #alexis x peppermint #s9 #rare pair

28 notes · View notes