#tags mainly for sorting purposes and nothing else

[artxstic-scr1bbles]

So... Link Click Bridon Arc.

*curls up on the floor and sobs pathetically*

[alieinthemorning]

Hello! May I send a request for Twisted Wonderland?

Leona and Malleus specifically, reacting to a Gender Neutral Reader with the power of a empathic healer, meaning they can heal people by taking their injuries and placing them on themselves? They used this power very often due to them hating to see people hurt when they can help?

Thank you!

For Thee, Not for Me [Leona Kingscholar || Malleus Draconia]

Content: Blood and Injury, Reader has a Unique Magic | Signature Spells, Strong Language, Inappropriate Use of Unique Magic | Signature Spells, Can Be Read as Platonic or Romantic, Angst 

Pronouns: None

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

You liked Magishift. It was a fast-paced game that if you weren’t paying close attention to, you'd miss a play that would have the disc in the other team’s possession. You liked it so much that you usually sat in for the Magishift club’s practice. 

Well, that wasn’t the full truth. The reason why you sat in on so many practices, mainly the practice matches, was because you were their self-imposed medic. Most of the time you dealt with injuries that could be resolved with a med-kit, other times you needed to use healing magics.

Then there were days like these,

“Worry not, there’s nothing for you to abide by. Leave all your worries to me. For Me, Not Thee.”

You didn’t even flinch as the deep gash along Epel’s forehead (and other more minor injuries) transferred from him to you. Instead, you immediately placed a hand to your temple, the ever so familiar tingle thrumming against your skin.  

You turned to the student who had caused the injury. “I would say be more careful, but that was obviously on purpose.” Your tone was flat, and your eyes were somewhat narrowed. 

You weren’t really mad, mainly disappointed. You hated when they got like this, when one of them felt like another was doing better, so they needed to sabotage in order to feel better about themselves. 

His lips curled back, obviously surprised that you had the audacity to call him out on his shit. “What the fuck do you know—”

“More than you, obviously.” Leona cut him off as he approached. “If you can’t keep your shit together, then you can go. Don’t need no pussy-footed fuckers on the team.” Despite the vulgarity of his words, his look was something else entirely. Full authority, no room for negotiation. 

That student has lost his position on the team. 

You sighed internally, knowing that this would cause more problems for you in the long run. 

Then, after checking on you and Epel (and making sure Epel thanked you), Leona had practice continue as normal. While you just sat there healing your head wound. Once practice was over, you were escorted back to your dorm by Ruggie. You also found yourself in his company for the next two weeks.

You had to continuously bite your cheek to keep yourself from blurting out your appreciation, not only for him, but his Dorm Leader. 

On the days without Magshift practice, you found yourself under a large tree watching Sebek and Silver spar with their batons. You found their dedication to their Lord admirable, that even in a school of adolescents that held no worthy flame to the Prince of Briar Valley that they would so diligently practice the sword. 

However, yet again, you had another reason for watching them so closely.  

Because no matter how quick and calculated their strikes may be, accidents are always along the horizon. 

He didn’t make a sound, just dropped to one knee as he clutched his side. You were at his side in mere moments. 

“Worry not, there’s nothing for you to abide by. Leave all your worries to me. For Me, Not Thee.”

This time you did flinch as the injury transferred. You weren’t fully healed from Epel’s injury, alongside others, and taking a new, serious one so soon really affected you. You slammed your eyes shut and clapped a hand over your mouth, bile threatening its way up your throat. Thankfully, with a pair of hands to steady your swaying body and another to rub soothing circles along your back, you were able to weather that storm. 

However, even though you had begun the healing process, you had found yourself in a bit of a bind.

“Ah. I’ll have to ask a favor of the two of you.” You hated to do this, but you knew that you were in bad condition. “Could you help me back to my dorm?”

“Of course.” Silver said as he helped you to your feet, then slung your arm over his shoulders. 

Sebek was hovering at your other side, biting his lip harshly.

You smiled, “If you keep biting your lip like that, I’ll have to take that injury too, you know.” He stopped, but he was still frowning deeply. 

Ah. 

Out of all the people who hated when you used your Unique Magic like this, Sebek was one of your most vocal. So this blunder must really be hurting him. 

You frowned as well.

Oh, if only you could take away negative emotions as well. 

The return to your room was quiet and filled with plenty of quick glances. The long stares had died down after your second year. You had been dubbed “Healer” by your peers, and even the freshmen knew of you. Someone to go to if you were in danger. 

Once they had made sure you were fine and settled, they set to leave.

Or rather, Silver did. Sebek lingered at your bedside, working at his lower lip again. You sent Silver off, then waited for Sebek. 

He didn’t have much to say. “You cannot keep pushing yourself like this.” His voice was soft, yet firm. “When you fall, who attends to you?” 

You smiled, but didn’t respond. He had heard your answer before.

“As long as everyone else is safe” then I don’t matter.

You should have seen this coming. You knew that despite your new-found companionship, that there would always be someone lurking in the shadows. 

So when the sudden shove at your back forced you forward, you were only mildly surprised. 

Your brain had already begun listing all the injuries you could get from being pushed down the stairs, reacting immediately when one of many was obtained. 

You didn’t scream, just grunted as you tumbled to the landing, biting your lip as the splitting headache made its way between your eyes. 

The both of you were quiet. You focused on healing and him focused on your silent, unmoving body. Then there was a flash of green, a short shriek then nothing again because you had passed out at that point.

Although, one last thought you had before you relinquish your consciousness was: 

“I’m gonna punch the shit outta that fucker once I’m in the clear.”

World traveled fast at Night Raven College. Especially when he was hidden in what he would consider to be plain sight. And regardless of whispers, his ears were sharper than most. 

He didn’t even wait for them to leave before he emerged from his resting place and set out to find you. His pace quickened as more and more information slipped from loose lips. You had healed two major injuries within the past week, which meant you weren’t in the best shape. But what was worse, is that you were shoved down a flight of stairs.

By one of his own.

He was going to hold him, but not until after he checked on you.

“Why are you here.” He snarled upon arrival. 

Of all the people who could have been at your bedside, this was the one he was least expecting. 

The Horned-Bastard himself, Malleus fucking Draconia.

The lizard-fucker turned to face him, head slightly tilted to the side with a small grin. “Fixing another one of your messes, it seems.” 

Leona growled, taking a threatening step forward. Malleus’ grin grew wider. 

“If either of you start, I swear I will never heal you again.” You croaked from the bed, forcing yourself upright. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Leona groaned, wiping a hand down his face. He crossed the room, ignoring the horned-bastard. “Didn’t even lay hands on’em, and you’re already thinking about healing—you’re the one in bed, dumbass.” 

You sniffled. “It’s just a White Cold.” He rolled his eyes. Of course, you would get sick from over healing yourself. “I’ve already taken the medicine for it, so I should be fine in a day or two.” You smiled at him—the both of them. “Thanks for checking in on me, though.”

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, just turned his back on you. “Why do I even bother…”

“Oh, if you’re gonna go now, can I ask you to do me a favor, Leona?” His ears perked up at that, you rarely asked for anything. “Could you handle the one from before? The pussy-footed fucker?”

“Snrk!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle the laugh. He was not expecting you to say that. Once he regained himself, he answered. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. I was already headed that way.” As much as he disliked leaving you with Draconia, he had to make sure business was handled. 

And the business was handled well. 

A hand on the back of the neck. Magic cracking down the back.

“I am hunger. I am thirst. I am what robs you of tomorrow. King’s Roar.” 

“One wrong step, and I’ll put your remains in an hourglass.” Was the only thing he said to him before he let the pussy-footed fucker loose.

Someone removed themselves from the shadows with a sigh. “I’m sure you’re gonna ask me to keep an eye on him, right?”

“No. I want you to keep an eye on the Healer. Make friends.” He rolled his shoulders. “I’ll make sure to compensate you.” 

“Oh? Shishishi…aye, aye, sir!” Ruggie gave him a two finger salute before making his exit. 

Leona sighed. “I’m tired…”

Request complete! Thank you for requesting!

This was actually really fun to write, especially since I pushed myself to write at least 1,000 words. Well I actually wrote 1.5K!

Also please note that I call Spell Drive "Magishift" and I literally refuse to call it anything else.

This also very quickly became a Leona-centric thing (and also Sebek??? he had his little moment) instead of Leona and Malleus, but hey he at least showed up lmao.

Ko-Fi | Commission | Masterlist[Leona] | Masterlist[Malleus]

[fleursroses]

Of boys and boxes

Holy shit I reached 250 followers yesterday!! Genuinely I want to thank you so much. So, in honour of that here's finally the fic I said I'd write back in like October (whoops). It's inspired by this post by @ggomos-maribat​, so if you're wondering why you got tagged in this, it's because you asked to in case anyone wrote something for it. I hope it lives up to your expectations!!! I will also post this on AO3 and reblog with the link. But for now, enjoy <333

However Marinette thought it would be to be the Guardian of the Miracle Box, she couldn't exactly say it would even come close to reality. Sure, the whole thing surrounding Hawkmoth that got her in the situation in the first place generally sucked a lot, but in a way she knew what she could expect. Then Shadowmoth happened, and Monarch, who eventually all turned out to be Gabriel Agreste, the fucking dad of her longtime crush and partner Chat Noir. Yeah, talk about killing the mood. 

Okay, if she was being honest, at that point the feelings for either had been fading for a while, mainly due to all the stress being Guardian put on her life. Sometimes she couldn't help but resent Fu for all that he, although not necessarily on purpose, had forced her to go through, from losing her childhood so early without any guidance, to making her feel like she wasn't allowed to have feelings without putting the world that was laid upon her thin shoulders at risk. It never felt fair though, because she knew Fu had had to go through the same thing. At least she still had some sort of support network. 

Still, the whole thing left her too traumatised to really want to pursue Adrien any further, or anyone else for that matter. This was fine by her, and although he was a bit disappointed, Adrien understood and respected her feelings on this matter. She was glad she could still have him by her side, despite it not being the future they had both dreamed of. 

However, being left with a bit too much time on her hands, Marinette had decided to focus more on her duties as guardian, wanting to fully uncover its secrets without the threat of having all the kwamis being stolen from her again hanging over her head. And as much as she wished Fu had trained her more, she didn't think he had known about... certain connections the miracle box had to various organisations either. Wasn't that just her luck?

It had been 3 years since Hawkmoth had been defeated, and Marinette had spent most of that time travelling all over the world. Every so often she would return to Paris again though, to meet up with her old friends. They would go out for drinks and Marinette would tell all about the classes she followed online to get a business degree, as well as tell about where she had been and what she had done as Guardian. She had to admit, it was nice to finally be able to talk about being Ladybug, even if the group who knew was still only really small. Or rather, it was nice to have the possibility. In reality, she was so used to being secretive, out of sheer habit she sometimes forgot to mention things other people would undoubtedly have told their friends. 

It would go like this: One of the times she was back after a particularly long 5 months away, Marinette invited Adrien, Alya, Nino, Kagami and Chloé to hang out at the bakery with her. Just as she was telling a story about the crazy commission she had gotten from one of Jagged's friends, something she occasionally did to help keep her afloat while she was abroad, she got a call from an, to her friends, unfamiliar name. Apologizing to the group, who assured her it was fine, she answered. Her and the guy on the other end held a short civil conversation, ending with Marinette promising she would drop something of his by his place at her earliest convenience and then ended it just as quickly. When asked about the other guy, she just said "Oh that's just Damian, I met him in Tunisia," and then immediately went back to her story again, as if nothing had really happened.

Yet, this Damian continued to show up in conversations after that. Over time her friends gathered that although they had met in Tunisia, he was apparently American, had a big family and a preference for the same martial arts Marinette did. She didn't talk about him all that much, mostly just mentioned him every so often, like when Alya accompanied her to her favourite fabric store while she was still in the neighbourhood. 

"And so this creep comes up to me all macho like I didn't just pepperspray one of his friends right in front of him- Wait Mari check this green satin out, don't you think it would look nice on Adrien?"

Marinette came over and inspected the fabric, and while picking up the roll noted "I think it's a bit too dark for him, but I think it would look really good on Damian instead. He has this weird thing about green as a family colour or whatever, maybe I can make him something?"

Alya looked curiously as Marinette whipped out her sketchpad and sketched out a whole suit while lost in thought. She didn't take it personally, she knew this was just how the other girl could sometimes get when particularly inspired. Interested, she noted that it had been the thought of Damian that did it this time. But then again, Marinette's mind sometimes worked in the strangest ways, and Alya knew better than to pry or interrupt her. So, she just picked up the story where she had left it, knowing it would eventually find its way into Marinette's brain.

"Anyway, at the end the dude was totally crying and I hadn't even done much yet, you'd totally be proud of me girl-"

In the end, Alya couldn't shake her curiosity. Trying to google the guy didn't help much when she didn't have a surname, and look, she just wanted to know the guy was alright. Not that she didn't trust Marinette's judgement, on the contrary, but it would be nice to have a bit more to go off on. Asking Marinette straight up didn't help much either, only getting her vague answers. But as she offhandedly mentioned it to her friends when Marinette was away again, she found they were also eager to bring up their curiosity. 

"We don't even know what he looks like! But she likes him enough that she makes him fancy clothes of her own volition!" Chloé lamented dramatically. Although she would never admit it, she was a bit miffed she couldn't find out anything about Damian either. Even her sources couldn't tell her anything, and they usually never failed her. 

"I think we should just be happy she is designing again, no matter the reason."

 They all fell silent at Kagami's words, remembering how bad the period after Hawkmoth's defeat had been. It was only then Marinete's cracks had visibly begun to show to all of them, partly through several months void of the usual creative outlets and other emotions in general. It had been... rough, to say at the least.

"Still though. I don't think she has designed this much for one person since, disregarding Jagged's commissions. And she doesn't even talk about him! I mean, when I'm alone with her she always talks about all of you like you hung up the moon. I don't think she has talked about one person she likes as little as... as Luka."

Nino looked at his girlfriend incredulously. "Are you seriously suggesting Marinette has a crush on Damian? She barely ever even sees him."  

Alya simply shrugs. "I mean, probably not, but it can't hurt to think of all bases, right? But okay, what do you think about this: he is a secret assassin and Marinette made him normal by the power of friendship and now she has to constantly like, check up on him to make sure he doesn't go back to the darkside. No, listen, hear me out-"

Somehow, although they didn't know it, reality had been even stranger. Or well, if they had met years ago Alya could maybe even have been right, but as it was Damian hadn't been part of the "dark side" for a very long time, nor was he in danger of going back. Maybe that would have been sort of preferable to Marinette, but she still supposed her situation wasn't that bad, even though, yes, she was technically speaking kind of stuck. Trying to explain this to her friends was... a feat. 

This is all to say they had found out. It happened when she had invited all her friends over to New York to attend a fashion show she had been allowed to design a small piece for when accidentally gaining attention from yet another designer. When afterwards they were just taking a stroll through the city, all talking excitedly, a beautiful woman had come up to Marinette and taken her aside to talk without paying any heed to her friends. For some reason, they started talking in Mandarin. It wasn't a very long conversation, which ended by the woman patting Marinette on the head and walking away again. 

When she turned around, she found all her friends staring at her, dumbfounded. 

"What?"

"How the hell do you know Talia Head?" Chloé demanded. 

Somehow, Marinette only looked at them blankly, like she had never heard that name in her life. Like she hadn't literally just been talking to the actual CEO of LexCorps. When Chloé told her this, recognition slowly dawned on the other girl.

"Right, Talia. I forgot she's doing that now. Hm. I wonder who she has designing for her, I should ask her..." 

This time, she pulled out a notebook the others hadn't ever seen before, filling it with the strangest characters. There seemed to be some structure to it, possibly making it a language, but it wasn't one any of them had ever seen before.

Later, Marinette would chalk it up to her unfortunately being distracted, but when Alya asked her how she knew Talia then, if it apparently wasn't for her currently being one of the most well known business persons in the world, she just replied "She's my mother-in-law?" like this was a known fact. 

As several voices shrieked "YOU'RE MARRIED??" Marinette suddenly remembered she had not, in fact, told her friends about her marriage yet. 

"I mean, yes, more or less? It happened when I went to China again, and I met this League of uh. League of Assassins. But their leader knew a lot about the Miracle Box and he told me he would share everything with me if I married his grandson. Also that I would probably die if I didn't, but honestly I had hit a dead end so I really needed his knowledge, you know? It's fine though, I don't even know if it's like, legally binding. Also we didn't have to do anything besides be married, so. Pretty good deal actually!"

"HE WHAT-" "ASSASSINS?" "MARINETTE"

It took a lot of time for her friends to settle down, and to accept that she was fine and not under constant threat of being assassinated. It was a whole ordeal. Eventually though, it was Adrien who settled it by quietly asking her whether her husband at least treated her well. 

"I mean, sure, I guess? He's chill. Also, I am provided with so much more knowledge now, I feel like you're not properly considering that pa-." 

She was interrupted by a strange noise coming from her phone. She glanced down, fully prepared to ignore it for the more pressing matters at hand, but upon seeing who had texted her she decided to reply anyway. 

"Hang on, he's texting me, I need to answer this."

Random American dude???

My family just found out that I got married. They're being really annoying about it.

Snorting, she texted back, knowing her friends were still watching her every move.

Vous

Funny how that works, my friends did too just now

I blame your mother tho

She then showed her phone to her friends. "See? Damian and I are fine." 

It was Alya who made the connection first.

"Wait, if you've actually been married to Damian all along, and your mother in law is Talia Head…"

"MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG DID YOU MARRY DAMIAN FUCKING WAYNE?"

Taglist:

@nerd-nowandforever @prettykittytanjiro @toughluna @meira-3919 @taewinterbear95 @maanae @hammalammadamdam @swaggermcjagger @countessdragon @starscreamlover @snorlaxly-tired @illusionwolfwriter24r8 @kaitense1 @wildcardjoey @dramatic-squirrel @leftguard66 @mimblizzy @mikami1992 @tinybrie @theg0ddesspersephone @psychicdelusionwerewolf​ @folk-ever-lore​  

[redacted-s-journal]

insatiable | 29/08/2024 | 22:48

yo,

not sure what to put on here. i was never the type to journal or write diaries as a kid. never quite understood the purpose of such things. i mean, i guess i can understand the practical reasons of it - whatever it may be - but it's one thing for the brain to know and for the heart to know.

so why am i doing this? i don't know, just thought it would be fun. it was kind of an impulsive decision. i can't remember what prompted me to start this either. this blog will serve as me writing down my thoughts i guess?

i guess don't really expect people to read these either (but that won't stop me from adding tags to this post! :D). maybe i'll look back at these entries one day. maybe i'll cringe, maybe i'll laugh. who knows.

but hey, if you're here and i have zero idea who you are, hello there.

y'know, i've always liked the idea of anonymous journals, like imagine finding a stranger's journal and reading about their lives, not knowing who they are. kinda sick.

whatever, i'm rambling. i'm mainly writing this right now because i have nothing else to do. i've already finished up with what i needed to do - assessments, email lecturers. i wanted to play some video games, but it doesn't feel fulfilling anymore. maybe i'll feel good in the moment, but it's not like i'm looking forward to doing it.

i just feel like i could be doing something more productive. i get i should set some time for myself where i can take a break from work/productivity for self-care or something. but i just can't shake off the thought that i could be doing something else, something more productive.

i was thinking of finalising a programming timeline for myself - basically just trying to learning all sorts of coding languages within a year. i'm already in a programming course, but i feel like i could be doing more, y'know? currently i'm learning SQL, HTML/CSS, and XAML/C#. but i could be doing more.

it kinda sucks, thinking like this. makes me feel like i can never do enough no matter how hard i try. but it's whatever. i just gotta push through it.

maybe i'm just burnt out.

yeah, that could be it.

but burnt out from what? existing? what's there to be burnt out about? i'm not the busiest person on earth.

i feel like i'm not doing anything - anything productive, that is, and it's killing me. i could be doing something else, i could be more productive, i could be more hardworking.

but why am i not? why am i still writing this?

whatever.

i'll sleep it off, see how i feel tomorrow. i'll try to play a game to take my mind off it.

haha, think this entry's a little too serious.

time to absolutely LOCK IN and QUIT feeling bad! just gotta STAND on BUSINESS WOOOOOO (this is hilarious btw)

Yours sincerely, [redacted]

[forgottenluck]

The following urls and/or Muns are people I do not associate with. I do not wish them to be brought to my attention, I don’t want to know about them. I have their urls blocked to where I cannot see them. I will not, however, tell you who to rp with. This is just a warning, a reason as to why I do not interact with them.

Star/Usa/whatever her url and name is now: There was a lot of drama between this person and a group of very close friends of mine. A lot of things were accused, lots of vitrol thrown back and forth. I myself was attacked by those sticking up for this person for even stating that i was on my friends side. So please be aware that this person and those who surround them typically are very manipulative and backstabby, and will not hesitate to use your words out of context should you interact with them. (will also not hesitate to steal your graphics and graphic styles so be careful)

Loke (renascii): While a main reason why I avoid this person is they were one of the people involved with Star, there is another reason; and that is mainly the fact that they are far more manipulative. Loke is not above lieing, cheating, and begging for things to go their way. I know many people who were personally scammed by Loke out of their money or time, so please be aware of that.

Aku: I do not have any personal interactions with this person, but I've heard the stories. I don't want anything to do with that at all, thank you very much.

Ezrile: This one is a bit more difficult to explain, as I'm not exactly sure how things went so south so quickly. The basic gist of the situation (my personal situation and no one else's) is that I could not handle Ezy's personality. They were too much for me, and I stepped back. I was then attacked for doing so, and I realized that Ezy was not only a lot to handle in general, but also extremely toxic, manipulative and all around not a great person. -I was suicide baited multiple times -I was told I was horrible and that death and/or immense pain was wished upon me -I was constantly pressured and badgered to reply to them, and forced to listen to their unmedicated rambles. -And after I broke contact, i found out i was being stalked by them. (This IS CONFIRMED, I have been told of multiple times when I've been vauge blogged or named dropped by them after blocking.) These are my personal interactions with this person, no one else's. Ezy plays a lot of victim cards, using mental illness as a scapegoat and excuse, and refuses to take responsibility for their own actions. In sort, they believe that they get a pass for being a horrible person because they have a mental illness and everyone should just accept them and be friends with them no matter what. Please be aware that they are unstable and proceed at your own risk if you interact with them.

This is NOT a DNI. I repeat, this is NOT A DNI. I honestly could care less if you interact or rp with these people. I just don't like saying "tag it if you rp with these people so i can block" and not give a reason. This is merely MY reasoning as to why I do not wish to see these people on my dash. Nothing more, nothing less.

DO NOT HARRASS ANY OF THESE PEOPLE. Not on my behalf, not on anyone elses. This is for documentation purposes only. I mean it. If I catch anyone doing so, I will hard block you. No matter who you are.

I will NOT RP with any characters from the series Tales of Symphonia or Tales of Symphonia Dawn of the New World. If you are a multimuse that has these characters on it, then as long as those rps are tagged, I’m fine. I have a bit of trauma related to the series and don’t wish to revisit it

I will be blocking all Hazbin Hotel and Viviziepop media stuff, so please tag your roleplays as such!

The reason is that this media often has highly triggering materials that make me uncomfortable. Mainly on the aspect of noncon...but a lot of other things that happen or are implied upon.

I won't block people who are in the community, I just ask you please tag it as Hazbin or Hazbin Hotel so that my blocker will pick it up!

This "Special" part of the rules section will be updated as necessary.

[nostalgebraist]

Thank you for sharing this!

I haven't read through your full commentary line-for-line yet, but what I've read so far has been typically thoughtful, wide-ranging and incisive. (And from I could tell, your assessment of the book's relative strong and weak points is pretty close to my own.)

Already in my quick and partial breeze-through of the notes, I saw plenty of things that I want to respond to – often, but not always, questions (or implicit questions) whose answers I know.

I hope I'll have the spoons sometime soon to go through and write out these responses in full. At the moment, though, the depressive funk I mentioned in the tags of my last post makes it pretty hard to write anything at all, and doubly so if I'm writing about this book.

I will, however, write a few quick notes on topics where just a few words from me are capable of going a long way.

These may also be of more general interest – but only to people who have finished the book, as they contain full (if indirect) spoilers:

First: in a few places, you wonder whether or not I am personally an "AI doomer."

As it happens, I am not. But for the purposes of the book, that doesn't matter: the relevant aspects of the book began life in a moment earlier this year when I asked myself, "okay, what if the AI doomers were right (about what was going to happen) – what then?" And then I just thought about that question for a while.

In the book – as in that particular sequence of my own thoughts – "AI doom" is being used as a premise, a jumping-off point, in a way that disregards its actual likelihood of occurrence in the real world.

Second, about the events at the end of "Of Nativity."

You write "I cannot bring myself to be happy at this conclusion," saying later that it "left a bad taste in [your] mouth" and go on to (rightly) ask why the seemingly nigh-all-powerful AI nonetheless poses such a curiously narrow, all-or-nothing dilemma.

I won't go into much story-level detail now, but I do want to say that

(a) The ending is absolutely meant to be deeply unsettling, even disturbing.

Although the emotional tone of the narration in this section is very positive – ecstatic, triumphant – we know nonetheless that even Herschel himself has more conflicted feelings than that tone would suggest on its own.

(Consider the repeated refrain earlier on about how helpless he feels in the face of the Intercessor, how he senses that even his own freely-willed actions will somehow end up serving the latter's "purposes" – a theme which is picked up again, sort of, in the bit about the Intercessor "fitting himself to [Herschel's] size" in his board-game playing. Or, more straightforwardly, H's use of the word "enormity" when referring to his decision.)

And beyond that, of course, there's no reason the reader should feel compelled to "buy" H's framing of the situation. My hope was that the reader would relate to H at this point much as they had for much of the rest of the book (if the rest of the book had landed the way I'd hoped). They'd empathize with him; they'd see, really see, the ways in which his vision really is beautiful and poignant – but they would not straightforwardly "buy what he's selling," and would feel deeply ill at ease even (or especially) at the moments when H professes to be overjoyed.

(b) As much as it is anything else, "Of Nativity" is an attempt to depict a mystical experience.

The word "apocalypse" in the title obviously has multiple meanings; one of them is the original meaning, the genre of religious literature. "Of Nativity" is a fictitious work in this genre, an "Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen" in the same sense that is meant in titles like "Apocalypse of Zephaniah" or "Apocalypse of Peter."

I say this mainly to clarify why I wanted to write such a "deeply unsettling, even disturbing" ending. I'm not just trolling, here – writing a fucked-up "Christmas story" released on Christmas day just to fuck with people. (Not that you said I was, I course.)

What I am doing is (attempting to) depict a profound religious experience. And profound religious experiences are often, well... deeply unsettling, even disturbing. Even if the experiencer ends up mentally wrapping the whole thing up inside some doctrinal package that seems to contain it, to "explain" it, to "make sense of it"... nonetheless, they are going to feel shaken afterwards. (Cf. H's remarks in "Of Nativity" about trembling before the divine.)

Even if the conceptual content of the revelation appears to be uncomplicated "good news" – which is often not in fact the case! – the experience itself is uncomfortable and humbling, a lightning bolt from the beyond, a glimpse of something which (in one sense or another) human beings are not "supposed to" witness, and which human beings may not (in one sense or another) be able to withstand witnessing.

In the "Revelator's Preface," H writes:

Men today find the prophets strange, and think that it is because they are marvelous that they are strange; that the one thing comes naturally with the other.  The prophets are marvelous, but they are not strange.

Setting aside H's characteristically contrary last point – in "Of Nativity," I was trying to write something that was "marvelous" in the same way that "the prophets are marvelous" according to H here. (Man, when I put it like that, I sound so absurdly ambitious... but what can I say? My goals are my goals; I don't quite know where they come from.)

And – cf. the Jeremiah dialogue – this is a very dark sort of "marvelousness" that we're going for, here.

(I admit, of course, that the original Christmas story did not belong to this genre of Biblical literature – unfortunately for my whole "Christmas story" framing gimmick!)

EDIT: oh, one other thing – that stray "he" pronoun for the ant was in fact a continuity error, which I have since edited out! (It's a remnant of an early attempt to write that sequence in which the ant really was male – an attempt which never got very far, as I quickly realized the error of my ways, but which left behind in the manuscript this unintended trace of its brief existence.)

My Review & Commentary of The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen

This post contains two reviews of The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen, a new novel by Rob aka @nostalgebraist.

Above the fold is a short, comprehensive review, intended mainly for general audiences. This review is spoiler-free.

Below the fold is over 70 pages (~40k words, some of which are book excerpts) of line-by-line real-time commentary, intended mainly for Rob. This review contains full spoilers. Do not click on “Keep Reading” if you do not want spoilers.

My Review of The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen

The basic proposition is that this is a Christmas story. No surprise; that’s why Rob published it on Christmas after a furious push to be done on-time. The story takes place more or less entirely within the month of December of an unspecified year, and the passage of the month is the progression of the story. It is divided mainly between two narrators: Herschel Schoen, and his sister Miriam Schoen, the latter existing mainly to contextualize the former (which she herself notes with some resentment).

The plot is a fairly straightforward Les Miserables style pressure cooker of growing personal and societal wretchedness bent around the equally-growing idea of some grand, world-changing, revolutionary transformation that is imminent—in this case, supposedly on Christmas. It’s a decent plot, but the plot isn’t the principal reason to engage with the story, in my opinion, and in any case it’s not what most of the novel actually consists of.

For principal reasons to read this fairly hefty thing, I think there are two:

First, and probably the more important of the two, is that The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen is a veritable case study in the lived experience of someone (Herschel) whose brain works and perceives reality very differently from the human norm. He is high-functioning but still quite disabled and deeply mentally ill. “Case study” sounds clinical; this is actually a fairly warm, humanized story—with some very touching moments peppered throughout. But the sheer effort Rob made to depict Herschel’s mindset and thinking for the benefit of the reader is absolutely a tour de force in psychology. I’ve never read anything like it, and, if you read this book for no other reason than its “clinical” value, you would not be wrong to do so.

Second, and the more personally meaningful of the two reasons, is that this book gives you the opportunity to get “Herschel’s side” of things. I used biomedical terms just now to describe Herschel, but that’s not entirely fair, and it’s not the only way to look at him. We all have our reasons for being how we are. And we all of us, even those who are highly neurodivergent ourselves, often look at those whose minds work very differently from our own through the lens of division: them versus us. There is a failure to empathize, to understand, to even give ourselves the chance to understand. Herschel has built up, over the course of his short sixteen years on the Earth, this extraordinary paracosm, his “little world” as Miriam calls it, which he believes in totally and which he projects onto the real world completely. And this paracosm is very similar to the real world in many ways,which causes and/or exacerbates many of Herschel’s social developmental problems. (And we have his sister, Miriam Schoen, throughout the book, to gently lampshade all of this and keep us from accidentally conflating Herschel’s worldview with Rob’s narrative, which ultimately are two separate things.) I think The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen is highly validating of Herschel Schoen; I think that it dignifies him heavily, and all such people in the real world whose “special needs” can be compared to his; even though this book also displays in full detail many of the things about people like Herschel Schoen that so often make us cringe. Herschel is cringeworthy quite often, and his delusional paracosm may just be a delusional paracosm after all, but he—and it—are not illegitimate.

There is a third reason to engage, one with a much more niche appeal, but personally it was my favorite thing about the book: Herschel speaks in the “old” style. We often describe it as a “biblical” style of speech (e.g., “And he went out, and smote his enemy at the bridge, and laid waste to his temples, until all the love of fighting had bled out from its defenders, and the enemy’s people were subdued in shame and despair.”), but it’s really just how a lot of English writing used to be done. Tolkien could do it, and it’s in many of the old classics. I absolutely LOVE this style of writing. Love love love it, and I am always wanting to see more of it in the present day, but of course nobody but me even dares try. Well, here we go: Rob tried it! He pulls off this outrageous shit for the entire book! What you see in Herschel’s style of speech and thought in the first few pages is what you get for the whole count. It’s legendary! I love it! But if you don’t love it, then beware.

Thematically, this is a Christmas story, like I said. It’s a family story, with an especially strong focus on the brother–sister bond between Herschel and big sister Miriam. Another theme is that it’s a pretty anti-capitalist story—though I think this theme, and its literal treatment in the text and especially in character dialogue, was not integrated super well or executed authentically; it works okay on the meta level as a way of setting the conditions for the story, but on the literal level I found its exponents very anti-immersive in their dialogue, almost cartoonish. A third noteworthy theme is that there are some occasional matters of artificial intelligence (it’s part of how Herschel defines his “Adversary” early in the book), because this is nostalgebraist after all and we would expect such things. A fourth significant theme is that this is quite a “New York story,” the kind of story set in New York [City], written by someone who has been a New Yorker, and which for all intents and purposes treats New York as the center of, and nearly the entirety of, the Universe. This book has a lot of deliberate non-specificity in culture and language, presumably to make it timeless, but New York is there effortlessly, because, in New York stories, New York City is a fundamental property of the Universe.

I would be remiss not to mention a few pain points on my part:

First and foremost, Rob’s use of italics and, to a lesser extent, ALLCAPS, is exhausting. Italics function like commas in that they slow down the parsing of text. If you actually do parse italicizations loyally, as I do, and do not simply skip over them as visual noise, then this book might be extremely laborious for you to physically read, as it was for me. I am a deep admirer and avid user of italics myself, but this novel takes italicization almost to its furthest useful extreme possible, well beyond the limits of fine proportionality, and the italics’ sheer preponderance vastly slows down my parsing of the narrative. Nor is there much of a reprieve in the chapters where Miriam is narrating; she’s exactly the same way. In fact basically everyone in the book talks like this. I don’t reject the creative decision to utilize italics in this manner; it’s a valid creative decision; I only caution you that, if you take the italics and allcaps respectfully, they will seriously slow down your pace of reading—as they did for me.

Second, I recommend that you not worry about the time period in which this book is set. Rob made it deliberately vague and contradictory, but he didn’t telegraph this (that I saw), and so I was frustrated throughout almost the entire book trying to pin down when it was set. Turns out its time period doesn’t matter for story purposes, and can’t be dated anyway since there are anachronisms deliberately put into the milieu to make dating impossible. It’s got a little of everything from the 1950s through the present day. So, don’t worry about it. This pain point is my only truly negative large-scale criticism of the story in its entirety (though the unconvincing quality of some of the anti-capitalist dialogue is also a truly negative criticism, merely much more limited in applicability, and there are other serious negative criticisms I have which become manifest in the spoiler commentary below the fold).

Third, I would say that the third quartile of the book is harder to read than the rest. In large part this is because Miriam’s narrative becomes as exhausting as her brother’s as her own suffering increases, but it is exhausting in a completely different way, and the two different exhaustions interfere constructively to make something even more exhausting. The long chapters in particular—most of the book’s word count is contained in a few very long chapters—are quite exhausting indeed for reading in one sitting, so if your mind slows down or wanders I would recommend getting up and doing other things, then coming back with a fresh mind later. The text would really benefit from your full and energetic attention, otherwise I think this book becomes enough of a slog to become antagonistic to the reader. But with a fresh mind, this problem largely goes away. And I must say: This pain point is not a negative criticism. This is the price of engaging with smart work, sometimes. As with the use of italics and allcaps, I see no creative failing on Rob’s part here. You just have to do your part, make your effort, to be in a suitable frame of mind to receive it.

Overall, I enjoyed this book. I did not enjoy it as much as The Northern Caves, Rob’s other novel that I have read, because that book contains Leonard Salby’s glorious indecipherable writing, which has been a major creative inspiration for me. The Apocalypse of Herschel Schoen has lots to offer, however. Be aware that it is a heavy read, not a light one, and thus it is draining. Rob is a rare treat of an author in that his work is highly intellectual (rare all on its own!) without being literarily pretentious and snobby—but this means that it is no trivial thing to read and absorb his work. Also to his credit, this book kept me guessing all the way through, which I appreciate—I respect it when plots and characters refuse to let me put them in a container early on. And of course this book contained all of the good things I have already said about it.

DO NOT click “Keep Reading” unless you are prepared for spoilers, bad formatting, and the wailing and gnashing of teeth of confronting 70 pages of commentary.

Psych! 73 pages is way too much for Tumblr's post limits. Here is a Google Doc instead:

This document will be available online for the time being but may not be public indefinitely, so feel free to download a copy if you like.

[lolita-lollipop]

Hi could I get some headcanons for a yandere demon who was accidentally summoned by a child and the demon realizes that the small child just wanted someone to play with. The parents neglects the child and even when the kid comes into the room with the demon the parents are like “go play somewhere else sweetie” so the demon is basically just like “yup this child is mine” and just takes the child to the underworld with them, thank you 🥺

I started a one shot on this, and then realized that you wanted headcannons, so there is totally gojnng to be a part two of this that is the actual process. Kk, into it now.

I had to skip through th me “kidnapping” one, because there isn’t much to describe about it.

(I can’t tag you since your anonymous, but Just know I’ll post it in the next few days)

———————————————————————

-he, of course, meets you after you summon him with the ritual you saw in a picture book. He’s actually quite suprised that a child summoned him just to play trains in a sandbox. It isn’t like he can go anywhere till you dismiss one of the candle flames, so he just sits down and humors you.

-he is quite confused on the fact that you want him to play with you, and not some of your friends. You seem like a sweet little one, very polite indeed, and you haven’t even judged him on his demonic appearance, usually humans run screaming from the red tint in his skin, black eyes, and large horns. So he is very intrigued by you.

-usually, he’s not one for human sympathy, mainly because they treat him likes he’s some monster from hell (which he is), But it still hurts. You on the other hand, don’t even seem to care at all about the fact, you are treating him like some friend, not a demonic pet for you to order around. He immediately feels a bond between the two of you, it might be one sided, but still, you are just too sweet for this blasted world you’ve been shoved in.

-when he learns that this precious’s little thing that is you, has never felt any sort of love, even though you are just a ball of heaven, he is angry. Humans are nasty, vile creatures, the one time, the ONE TIME that one isn’t taking advantage of him, someone is openly hurting them? This is where the yandere-ness starts, he might not have known you for long, but he immediately feels protective, how could someone hurt such a little thing like you? That should be counted as a criminal act.

-when you let him out of the star (with his careful instruction to only blow away one of the lines) he’ll immediately grab your hand, and hoist you up to his chest, which by the way, is 8 feet off the ground. He’ll ask you where these “parents” of yours are, whilst rubbing circles back and forth on your shoulders with his warm hands. You point towards the little blue house where you lived, and he’ll go walking in there like he owns the place. When you say you made a new friend, your mommy jsut sheigged you off and told you to go play because she’s busy and can’t deal with you. This triggers him to a whole new level.

-he’ll take you back outside immediately, and set you in the center of the star, shooting a flew unstoppable flames into the blue house, then he’ll ask you to draw a new line for the star, and you and him both are transported into the world of the under, the last remains of earth in Your mind consisted of a few feminine screams.

“This child is mine now. Filthy human.”

Treatment:

-when arriving in literal hell, you would find that it’s surprisingly normal, actually pretty beautiful if you were to ask me. The sky was black, and the plants and ground were red. But it was such a pretty sight. You wowed at whatever this place was, while holding onto the side of his arm.

-this man, treats you like a little princess, his little princess of course. He dresses you in the finest of clothing, feeds you the best food, and plays the best games with you. He chooses to ill the role of your parent, mainly because the human scum who called themselves your biological parents, were cowards, and didn’t deserve the title. You’ll see him attempt to imitate a human parent, but soon just say “Aw fuck it” and go his own way.

-he doesn’t really get mad at you, in fact it’s very hard for him to even feel slightly annoyed at you, none of the things you do are intentional, so most of the things that could annoy him get blamed on someone else.

-is the most overprotective being you’ll ever meet, not letting you do even the simplest of tasks because “you could get hurt”, apparently you are too fragile to complete basic tasks. He’ll help you get dressed, he’ll fed you, he’ll literally carry you everywhere, all the while he’ll be scaring away any other demons from his manor in case they smelled the sweet child that you are, and wanted it for themselves.

-you’re his best friend, but even so, you have to go back home at some point right? Wrong, he’ll make you think as if whatever place you were before, where you were neglected, and ignored, was nothing but a dream, when you ask any questions about it, he’ll shush you and tell you that it’s nap time or something.

-he doesn’t care at all if you miss your mommy and daddy, he never did understand why humans could form attachments to people who mistreat them. He’ll grow angered, not at you of course, you aren’t trying to do it on purpose, but more so at everyone in your past life that’s keeping you from him. So he might pull a few strings with some humans int he surface that are in debt to him, and bam, your old school, your fathers house, your friends horns, everything in town, has now burst into flames.

-nicknames include: littles, little one, child

Punishment:

-as I said he doesn’t get mad very easily, busy he also won’t tolerate a certain level of disobedience. That being said, he will never even think about embolism any form of physical pain upon you. Resorting to more tactical options.

-hell just scare you, like letting you wander out when it’s parent of that darker times (they don’t have days down here), and letting any demons come close to you, you of course, beings tiny little human faces with a huge snake thing, scream and cry for your best friend to come save you. Which he does, and engulfs you in his arms, boucning you up and down while shushing Youa Dan striking your hair.

-hell lecture you and tell you this is why you can’t leave him, then changing you out of the dirty clothing, and tucking you into bed.

Cuddles:

The two of you have quite the size difference, so snuggling with him would be hard, but not impossible. He is actually quite gentle with you, noting how easy it would be to crush you under his weight, so he’ll gently set you on top of him, over his chest, where he’ll wrap his arms around your sister, and keep his hands over your shoulders.

-or he’ll set your form in his lap, protective encasing his arms over your chest while you rest your head in his.

*bonus

-where he comes from, it’s a sight of dominance to hiss at others, so you’ll literally be just perched in his lap while he’s hissing like a cat at another demon like 👁👄👁

———————————————————————

Thanks for requesting, have a great day anon, bye!

[amphibious-entity]

TMBS Book 1 Brain Dump

~An Embarrassingly Long Post~

I don’t know why I’m writing this or why I’m so determined to do it. Maybe to finally assume my true form and become a mega dork on main, or maybe just for fun!

This is basically a compilation of all the main points running through my head after reading The Mysterious Benedict Society (2007) for the first time. Rather than posting a ton and spamming the tag, everything’s here in one neat package! (hopefully this gets it all out of my system rip)

Contents:

The Book Itself

The Book Itself, for real this time

The Characters

A Funny Parallel

The S.Q. Section

Lines & Scenes I Liked

Spoilers abound!

The Book Itself

Upon acquiring the first three books (don’t judge me pls), I was surprised at just how long they are. Like, they’re still pretty light being paperbacks and all, but these books are hefty lads.

The first book has this Disney+ Original Series circle thing printed on it, which is kind of unfortunate. Regardless, I love the cover illustration and yellow is actually my favorite color :D It made me weirdly quite happy whenever I saw the book lying around in my room

Also, it’s really cute how there’s a letter from Mr. Benedict at the end! (It only reveals that you can find out his first name if you “know the code”, meaning the bit of Morse printed below the summary on the back.) Shock and horror, though, as I realized I’m starting to recognize some of the letters

The Book Itself, for real this time

It’s wonderful how the tone of the book really shone through to the show adaptation. Something about the deliberateness of the aesthetic, from the set designs to the fashion to scene compositions, that really sells that particular style— like it’s very clear that this story is being told to us, rather than one we’re seeing unfold, if that makes sense.

Where that narration style stood out to me the most was the first chapter. We are told (rather than shown) how Reynie gets himself to the point of the second test, and there’s this whole twisty time maneuver for that whole sequence of events that’s really interesting

A super secret fun fact about me is that I wanted to be a writer when I was younger! So this particular balance of show vs. tell is really neat, since it runs counter to my own tendencies. The sheer amount of commas in every sentence is also kind of comforting, since Ahah, I Do That in those few serious-ish attempts at writing lol

Overall this book’s style reminds me a lot of Roald Dahl’s books, which are very nostalgic for me :D The whole “kids are more competent than adults” angle helps a lot too haha

The Characters

Oh boy here’s where I get a little bit critical! Overall I did really like this book!! it’s just that that expresses itself in all this weird “”analysis”” lol

Reynie - much better in the books than in the show

It’s sort of a lukewarm take but I feel like show!Reynie is kind of boring? He doesn’t have a lot going on flaw-wise, and obviously since he’s the protagonist he can’t have too many weird traits or else the kids watching can’t project themselves onto him as easily

(I call it the difference between an aspirational protagonist and a vessel protagonist. Going off of the Roald Dahl vibes, think Matilda vs Charlie. show!Reynie is more of a Charlie)

Thus when we get to see him really struggle with the Whisperer and doubt himself it gives him a lot more dimension, at least in my opinion

It is a federal crime that the white knight scenes were not adapted into the show

Sticky - my son

I’ve long held to no one besides myself and my long suffering sister that Sticky is The Best Member of the Society

He happened to hit a lot of the Bingo squares of Stuff I Like In Characters: glasses, anxious, nice :), kind of a coward but ultimately is there for his friends, etc

For some reason I don’t talk about him nearly as much as you-know-who, but I love him just as dearly

Kate & Constance - I don’t have much to say

Kate is really interesting in this book! I like how we get to see more of her depths, in particular that one passage about her belief that she is invincible being the only thing that keeps her from falling apart? :c

Also her constant fidgeting is relatable lol

Constance is somehow a lot more tolerable in the book. I think I’m just one of those people with no patience for small children, unfortunately lol

(Some of) The Adults

It’s interesting that they had such an offscreen presence for most of the book. Giving them more time was probably one of the stronger changes of the show

However if that decision was made at the expense of the white knight scenes I think the choice should have been clear

I like the way Rhonda and Number Two are written

Milligan always on sad boy hours 😔✊

The “mill again” passage is touching but kind of messes up the pacing of the getaway, at least for me. Maybe I should read it again to make sure I didn’t miss something

Miss Perumal is much better in the show. We see so little of her in the book she doesn’t function well as an emotional anchor for Reynie, imo

The Institute Gang

Jackson and Jillson serve their purpose well, and Martina was surprising to say the least. I like the direction they took her in the show! I can’t imagine how funny it must have been to watch the tetherball subplot come out of nowhere lolol

These sections were written out of sequence, so random tidbit I couldn’t fit in The S.Q. Section: I like how he stumbles over his words. relatable

Mr. Curtain

While I think I know why they decided to not give Curtain the wheelchair in the show, we were totally robbed of Actor Tony Hale’s performance for the reveal during the final confrontation

Speaking of the wheelchair, it’s such a powerful symbol of his need for control or rather, his fear of losing it

The Contrast between him and Mr. Benedict. This point is expanded on in A Funny Parallel

Mr. Benedict

Oh boy, Mr. Benedict… How do I say this

I find it hard to trust Mr. Benedict, unfortunately

I mean to say, I do in the sense that I know he would never hurt the kids, thanks to knowing that a) this is a children’s book series and b) the meta (tumblr) states that he is really nice and lovable and stuff, but seriously. Why do the kids trust him at first?? I probably missed something somewhere

I like to think I’m an optimistic person, but unfortunately I’m also super paranoid. The premise of “a bunch of vulnerable orphans team up with a strange old man” is just so odd to me I don’t know how to explain it

I don’t know!!! I really want to trust Mr. Benedict

One of the strengths of the show is that we get to see him more often, and thus he gets to acknowledge more often that the plan is weird and that he feels really badly for putting the kids in danger and that he’s trustworthy and genuine

But his lack of presence for most of the book just makes him into something of a specter, invisible and unknowable, speaking only in riddles from across the bay

Which is why the white knight scene is so important!! I loved that scene ;-;

Because here’s an actual emotional connection! We can actually see it happening, rather than only being told that it exists

Reynie asking for advice and receiving encouragement, in words that demonstrate that Mr. Benedict actually cares about him and worries about him and agghh

It is a federal crime that the white knight scenes were not adapted into the show

But overall this whole issue didn’t ruin my enjoyment of the book at all! It’s just ->

A Funny Parallel

Okay, ready for my biggest brain, hottest take ever??

Mr. Benedict and Mr. Curtain…. are… the same

I mean obviously not entirely, given that one is benevolent and kind and the other is… Mr. Curtain

But seriously. Genius old man seeks out children (mainly orphans) to enact a plan. Said children often end up incredibly devoted to his cause and deeply admire him this is a little flimsy

Undoubtedly that’s intentional and is supposed to show the difference between them, like some kind of cautionary tale? “Let yourself be vulnerable and let others help you, lest you turn eeeeviiillll”

I guess that’s where the aforementioned epic contrast comes in. You get Mr. Curtain, strapped into his wheelchair and hiding behind those mirrored sunglasses, terrified (but unwilling to admit it) of ever showing the tiniest hint of vulnerability, vs. Mr. Benedict, who can let himself fall knowing that someone will catch him :’)

Anyhow I have nothing against the parallels, I just think it’s funny

The S.Q. Section

The S.Q. Quarantine Thread so it doesn’t leak out everywhere else <3

I’d like to meet the emo angstlord genius who read this book and decided to make SQ into Dr. Curtain’s son. What in the world

Okay I should probably preface this by saying that I absolutely adore both book!S.Q. and show!SQ with all my heart. Somehow, despite being a completely different character in both mediums, he has managed to be one of the best characters in either and certainly one of my favorites (besides Sticky of course) in the entire franchise, despite the fact that I’ve only read the first book/watched the show so far. I am confident in this statement.

But seriously! How?? Why?? I could probably write a whole other essay about why show!SQ is such an interesting character, and the change works so incredibly well. I’m just. Baffled

Okay, focus. book!S.Q. is such a sweetheart, oh my goodness. Like, 100% one of the most endearing characters in the book. Poor guy. I don’t even know where to start!!

He just seems to be a genuinely good guy at heart, despite being technically one of the bad guys. He’s genuinely happy for Reynie and Sticky when they became Messengers and helped Kate when she “fell” and was concerned about Constance when she looked sick and how he was in that meeting with Mr. Curtain and Martina?!!? aaahhhhghgh ;-; he just wants people to be happy TT-TT

Comparing him against literally every character at the Institute is probably what makes him so endearing tbh. When everyone else is so awful to the kids, it really makes him stand out. Like a cheerful little nightlight in the worst, most humid and rank bathroom you’ve ever been in

It’s kind of pointless to theorize about a book series that’s already concluded (I think?) but. Is the implication of S.Q.’s forgetfulness supposed to be that Mr. Curtain used him in brainsweeping experiments somehow? The timeline probably definitely absolutely doesn’t line up but like. How did he get to being a Messenger being the way he is now, given how cutthroat the process is? And then of course Mr. Curtain keeps him around as an Executive because he’s fun to mess with and presumably his loyalty. I’m very curious as to how their relationship develops in the other books, if at all. Those are probably where the seeds of the “let’s make them family” logic were planted

But wouldn’t it be hilarious if the reason we don’t know what “S.Q.” stands for in the books is that he just. Forgot

Another thing that occurred to me. Given that he and the other Executives were Messengers at some point, what were their worst fears? What is S.Q.’s worst fear?? Inquiring minds need to know

One last horrible little anecdote: I was thinking about book!S.Q. while eating breakfast, as one does, and suddenly it hit me.

I want to believe The Author Trenton Lee Stewart had the name for a character, S.Q. Pedalian, and was like, “Hm! What sort of quirky trait should this young fellow have?” Because, of course, in this style of fiction every character has to have at least one cartoonish or otherwise distinguishing trait to stand out in the minds of children. (For instance, Kate has her bucket, Sticky has his glasses, Constance is angry, and Reynie is Emmett from the Lego Movie)

Anyhow, he looks around the room, searching for inspiration. Suddenly he comes across a jumbo box of plastic wrap. Completely innocuous in design, save for one line of text. 300 SQ FT.

“…large… S.Q. …feet? THAT’S IT!” i’m sorry

Lines & Scenes I Liked

In no particular order!

Sticky quotes Sun Tzu, The Art of War

Evil combination aerobics/square dancing in the gym with the Executives

Everyone being happy at the end :’)

Everyone partying after Sticky reunites with his parents, and later finding Mr. Benedict asleep at his desk from the moment they shook hands :’’)

Literally any scene with Sticky in it

Any time Kate says “you boys” or “gosh”

[“Um, sir?” S.Q. said timidly, raising his hand. “A thought just occurred to me.” / Mr. Curtain raised his eyebrows. “That’s remarkable, S.Q. What is it?”] clown prince of my heart </3

S.Q.’s determined monologue about searching for clues after he bungled up the first time

Literally any scene with S.Q. in it (please refer to The S.Q. Section)

Reynie trying to resist the Whisperer.

[Let us begin. / First let me polish my spectacles, Reynie thought. / Let us begin. / Not without my bucket, Reynie insisted. He heard Mr. Curtain muttering behind him. / Let us begin, let us begin, let us begin. / Rules and schools are tools for fools, Reynie thought.]

NO MORE HURTIN’ WITH CURTAIN

Milligan showing up on the island!!

Remember the white knight hhhhhh

“controle”

A Super Secret Bonus Section

I would be extremely surprised if anyone read through all the way down here lol. Regardless, here’s a little acknowledgements section :D not tagging anyone since I don’t want to bother all of these people

Special shoutout to tumblr blog stonetowns for unknowingly yet singlehandedly demolishing my reluctance to read the books by posting a ton of cute quotes. Thank you for your service o7

Thanks to the two OGs that liked the post I made right before this one, for being my unwitting enablers and for sticking around despite being a) technically an internet stranger (hello!) and b) someone I haven’t spoken to irl in literal years (hey!!)

Last but not least thankz 2 my sister for putting up with me ranting about the book when I first got it and for asking about “CQ” sometimes lol. (i desperately hope you’re not reading this orz)

[ravenadottir]

How do you think the S2 LIs would react to MC having an eating disorder?

(((i'll put the trigger warnings in the tags, but just in case, will also answer it under the cut)))

i'll talk about the others in a second, but let's focus a bit on gary.

let's forget the fact that most gym bro's are gym bro's BECAUSE of eating disorders, and exclude the fact that most of them have a bad relationship with food and exercising because of past demands coming from parents, school, standards, or all of the above. same with girls, except the measures are to be bigger and more muscular. (male gaze and its expectations, lack of incentive to self-love because of how the boy can be perceived, ideal male body through the muscular lense, all that bullshit).

BUT

gary has been through a major body transformation while being really young, and that time of his life still has a lot of weight (pardon my pun, it wasn't intentional) in his life to this day.

he still sees a therapist and is doing much better, according to him, but let's not forget how he got injured because of it. his nan gave him a hard time, but after that he realizes how much he figuratively and literally had hurt himself.

sometimes it takes a person to hit the bottom to seek help.

if mc has eating disorders, it wouldn't take him long to recognize the signs. hell, he might even notice them while in the villa. it's a reality show with cameras everywhere, therefore more difficult for her to exercise whatever she does to cope with her fears, especially if the involve certain practices in the bathroom. but still, whoever went through it, although different in nature and intensity, knows damn well when something's going on.

he would probably open up to her about his own issues and how they managed to ruin a good thing for him. sharing his experience would be extremely obvious to her, and if she got defensive, this is where gary gives her some space.

but i do think he would do more than that. not that he would police her every move, but reminding her that help is a good exit to a healthier way of seeing things.

whatever she's going through, whether she thinks she's too big, or too small, or there's trauma wrapped around her eating habits because of people from the past, that's something he cannot help with.

"but i can listen. you can vent. above everything else we're mates, and i worry about you. so if you need to shout, cry, or even punch something, i'll be glad to... hold the punching bag for you. but only if you want to. just know i'm here. when i was going through it, i remember not being able to look nan in the eye. i was suffering but couldn't get the words out. so i understand. and if you need someone to talk to, i'm here for you. i'm always here for you. and if you want space, well... i'll reluctantly give in, even though i like being around you."

i don't think he would use words as "hot", "fit" or "beautiful" to make her feel better. he knows the important thing is to show he's there for her regardless, because he knows those things might not be part of the problem, and can be triggering. offering words of support in neutral terms is what he would do.

some of the boys might not understand it as well, like henrik or bobby. they have naturally toned bodies and don't seem to worry much about food habits.

i like my headcanon about bobby being scrawny or skinny in school, but gaining some shape later. unfortunately that was never confirmed, so i'll stick with "supportive but clueless about the subject".

same goes with kassam and lucas. while one just doesn't give much thought for exercising or food, the other might do his gym routine for the purpose of the discipline and self care. nothing out of the ordinary with either of them.

as for carl, he might have a habit or two that resembles something like a disorder, but not nearly as damaging, in his head. his reaction would probably be initial stages of panic, because he wants to be there for her but he doesn't know how, and ends up overthinking everything.

noah might've read on the subject, and could potentially know what to do and understand the possible roots of the problem, but wouldn't risk saying anything. he barely opens his mouth as it is, and i think in this case he would have enough sensitivity to listen, and listen only.

they would be supportive, but none of them would truly understand what is like to walk in her shoes. gary would be the best person to talk to about this, if she ever felt the need.

plus, he would definitely out his own issues to give the islanders some sort of guidance. what not to say or do, when to approach her, when to not.

all of them would be shocked though. i can see that happening, mainly because of how some platforms (ALL OF THEM, let's be real) want to make you believe every single person with eating disorders looks a certain way, and not being versed on the matter might cause the "wait what?" kind of reaction.

anyway, that got long! hope this is what you're looking for anon!

[ajbwasntwriting]

Daughter!Reader X Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 8. Civil Unrest

First | Previous | Next

For all intents and purposes this is filler so the next chapter will be up in the next few minutes

I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.

if you wish to be added to the tag list please dm me. All chapters can be found under the tag AJ’s Negan’s Daughter AU

In a few days you were up on your feet, your need to survive driving your fast recovery. As soon as you could sit up without nearly fainting and you could bend your fingers without much pain you started taking patients. Mainly burns and cuts. You kept your head down while working, adding to your intimidating reputation. They didn’t realise you were just trying to conceal yourself while looking for familiar faces. You rarely left the medical bay, even when it was icy cold.

Carol checked on you regularly, seemingly incredibly concerned for you. It almost pained you to suspect her to be out to get you. Luckily she seemed convinced that because you had been alone for so long that you’d take a long time getting used to the walls. Maybe she figured out that you were just biding time for leaving again.

“Are you okay?” Laura pulled you from your thoughts. You looked up suddenly, nodded, and went back to your reading. All these patient profiles from the previous physician were thorough. “Why would Emmett be this detailed with extremely basic medical care” you tought, then again he was a captive here just as much as you were. He probably had nothing better to do. “Are you sure? You look so serious.” She continued. You looked up to her. She was lying on one of the beds chewing on a piece of hard plastic. Having to keep a watch on ‘The New Doc’ would’ve been extremely boring.

“Just a lot of reading” you sat up and stretched your arms, not realising how long you had sat hunched over the hand-written pages. “Doctors have horrible handwriting and this guy sure likes to drag his point out”

“How bad is it?” She asked. You lifted the profile of another patient and followed along with your finger.

“The left Thenar has suffered tremendous infliction resulting in the loss of elasticity and possible avulsion of the tissue” You read aloud in a dramatic voice

“What?” Laura said, taking the plastic out of her mouth for a moment

“He pulled the muscle in his thumb, possibly tearing it” you flopped the paper down, rubbing your forehead.

“And all those pages are full of that shit” Laura pressed. You sighed with a nod.

“I never thought I’d be grateful to have done AP english.” you sighed

“Okay smart ass no need to show off” Laura chuckled, chewing on the plastic again.

“Please,” you sat back in the chair “My old man made me do it. ‘You already speak english so it should be a breeze’ he said”

“Those kind of parents?”

“You’re familiar?”

“Yep” Laura sat up, hunching over her now crossed legs. “My dad was a lawyer. Mom was an accountant. They kept pushing me to over achieve”

“Bet they weren’t happy with that” you spoke, pointing to your neck to reference Laura’s tattoo. Her hand went over it instinctively.

“I had already skipped town with my boyfriend before I got this.” She laughed. The smile melted away as she slowly stroked her neck. “Hadn’t seen them since. Probably dead.”

The room got a lot more quiet. It was crazy to think you both were so close in age but had gone through so much hell in the same world. But Laura was a saviour. You were Negan’s kid. If you were to be friends it would have to be at an arm’s reach.

The momentum changed when Carol arrived in, holding a small tray with cookies on them. The smell told you they were fresh. Your heart wanted to tell her to get out, but those cookies smelled too damn good.

“How’s the hard work going ladies.” she spoke with a cheery voice, setting the tray down in front of you. You were on it instantly. You took a cookie with you as you limped over to lock the door to the medical bay. “Any news?” Carol whispered

Carol had asked you and Laura to investigate the uprising of Negan supporters in the Sanctuary. Well, mainly Laura since she would know more people in Carol’s eyes. The payment, cookies. Though Laura would probably do it for free. She enjoyed the new peace that came with being aligned with the other settlements.

“Just the usual hot-heads” Laura sighed. You limped back to your chair.

“They like to complain to me.” you gently sat down. You’d only been back walking without the full splint for a couple days now but the clunky half splint on your lower leg wasn’t exactly walker friendly. “‘You should’ve seen how great we were when Negan was running the place’ and other shit”

“What do you think of it?” Carol asks you seriously. You suck the sugar off your fingers happily.

“He mustn’t have been that good if he’s not in charge anymore.”

They had their little meeting then as Carol was leaving you piped up,

“How’s the bridge team?”

“No.” Carol retorted quickly as if speaking to a child. “You are not going out there how many times do I have to tell you.”

“I could help-”

“You’re needed here Y/N” she spoke firmly.

“Yes, mom.” you groaned from your chair, earning a laugh from Laura. Carol left quickly.

“Why do you wanna join the bridge team so badly?” Laura asked through a mouthful of cookie.

“I miss the fresh air, I guess” and there’s more chances to get away from you all.

That evening you were restless. Normally it was the pain that kept you up late but it also exhausted you. You got out of the medical bed you’d claimed as your own, one of three that outfitted the med bay. You limped your way out of the medbay, not bothered if you woke Laura. The bathroom was down the hall so she would just assume you had to pee, especially since you had taken the torch dedicated to midnight bathroom visits. Being the medic gave you the luxury of a torch instead of matches and a candle.

It hurt to climb up so many stairs, with both your wounds and the cold seeping into your skin, but you’d be tired by the time you came back down anyway. You walked onto what used to be Negan’s floor. Your ‘family’s’ floor. You’d wanted to see it for a while now, out of curiosity more than anything else.

You first went to your father’s room. Pushing the door open you felt a burst of cold air whip around you viciously. The room has been stripped of its furnishings, right down to the carpets. Taken away to be burned most likely. The windows were shattered, the bullet holes in the ceiling giving away the method. It was so completely devoid of any sign of human life one would say it always had been. You closed the door and continued onto the parlour where the wives would spend their day. This room didn’t have windows but the room was still completely void of any of the glamour that once adorned it. The only remnants was the wall paper which was peeling off due to the damp.

The image of the forgotten rooms didn’t stir emotion in the way you thought they would. You imagined getting overwhelmed with emotion, but you felt nothing. No that wasn’t right, you felt a loss. Not a loss of the grandeur you had gotten to enjoy in captivity, not a loss of the fake smiles from your many ‘mothers’. You felt a loss of your father. You mourned the man you had called your father, and the idea that all that was left of the memory of him were these halls where cowards bowed to him. You felt an overwhelming realisation that the man you called ‘Pops’ had died long before ‘Negan’ formed.

Your final destination was your room. You figured it would also be empty but your room was a bit away, down the end of a hall few knew how to get too. You’d had more roaches as visitors than people. Your father had chosen it for you so the ‘common nobodies’ wouldn’t see you easily, another measure to keep you safe.

It also worked the other way as you round the corner and see a light coming from what used to be your room. The hall was lined with offices and storage rooms you knew you could dive into if someone appeared so you turned off your light and walked down the hall gingerly on your feet. You were now only a couple feet away from the door when you heard voices coming from the end of the hall, from what used to be your room.

“I still can’t believe they put this bitch here to keep an eye on us. That fucking redneck was an ass but atleast he didn’t pretend to be all fucking nice”

“It’s probably a play to get us to relax. They’ve got us locked in this factory and don’t give us nearly enough food, and they won’t let us go to the other settlements”

“We’re prisoners. They said they only wanted to lock up Negan but now we’re all starving.”

“Enough of your bitching.”

They went on to talk about how many people were on their side and their efforts to get weapons. They clearly had no idea you were listening. After all, what kind of idiot is gonna climb up over ten floors for no reason. Other than sentiment perhaps. It sounded like there were about four people in the room, but they spoke like they had a few under their influence. They were looking for weapons and a means to get back at ‘Rick and his posse’.

“We’ll bring them that bitch Carol’s head on a spike for them.”

“What about the bridge? We got people working there for food.”

“And then what? They’re just gonna keep extorting us for slave labour or let us starve.”

You were so drawn in by their words that the door opening startled you. You charged from your spot into an open room, a storage closet of a sort. You knew it was too risky to close the door so you stood against the wall next to the door. They walked along the hall bantering loudly. You sidestepped deeper into the room, knocking something with your foot making a loud metal sound. The voices stopped and you instantly froze, holding your breath like your life depended on it. A light shun into the closet, then the other way.

“Probably just a rat” one of the voices spoke. “We can set some traps and stew it for dinner”.

They continued down the hall, their steps growing faint a minute or so later. The adrenaline began to subside and the pain from the recent strain on your leg made itself very apparent. You stepped out of the closet and walked down the hall to your old room. Maybe they left some evidence you could use to barter for your freedom.

You opened the door to your room, only illuminated by the moonlight coming from the window. Unlike the other rooms, your room hadn’t been completely ransacked. The mattress had been taken off the frame but the metal skeleton remained as well as the rug under your bed. Other than that it appeared empty. You turned on your torch to get a better view.

On your bed frame lay what had to be near a hundred dead wild flowers. Your breath caught in your throat at the site. You moved and sat on the bed frame, the metal sending a chill up your body. You placed a hand on the dry stems and something hit the ground with a thump. You moved to look under the bed as quick as you could, reaching under the bed you cut yourself on something sharp. You moved your torch on it and grabbed it again, this time from a less dangerous end.

Under the bed you pulled out the knife that had your name engraved on it. The metal shun bright in the light as if lovingly polished until it’s inevitable abandonment. You hadn’t realized you had begun to cry until a tear fell onto the blade and began to fill the engraving.

~Tag List~

@bodeckersbitch @lauren-novak​ @aestthete

[deepdonutkid]

Nonsense

A/N:

This took me way too long! I’m sorry, I was stuck on the Polly part for a while after Helen’s death.

Even though there is a part in the middle, which I’m not really satisfied with, I’m still glad, I finished that chapter. I hope you like it. It’s a little sad for a story, that will later focus on... other stuff.

Tbh... I forgot, if Martha died from a disease or something else. That’s why this part is a little vague. But he will talk more about his dead wife much later in the story.

English is not my first language and this is not beta-read, just a small part of it! Thanks to @retromafia​ for helping me out on this chapter! You’re so lovely!

John as mental health issues, but it’s very different to those of his brothers!

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl​ @theshelbyclan​ @justalonelyslytherin​

Masterlist Do you wanna touch

____________________

All fucking week he had thought about this date and her. John was distracted at work, at home and at the Garrison. His head was somewhere else, preferably with her, the beautiful Russian girl he had met a couple of days ago. He tried to keep this to himself even though he worried others would start to notice his weird behavior. Well, it was pretty hard to shut up about it, when he sat drunk next to his friends in the pub, but John wasn’t really ready to talk about this. It still felt so surreal like this encounter had never happened and it was all in his head. In addition to that, others- mainly his family- would gladly ruin this for him, before it had even begun, which was why he was so reluctant to talk about it.

They would ask him all sorts of stupid questions, which he couldn’t answer at all. He frowned and closed the book. Later he would meet the mysterious woman again and this was his only chance, since he didn’t know her full name or her address or another way to contact her. So he had to go there or he would go crazy thinking about what might have been. But there was a problem with that.

Of course there was a problem as nothing in his life could be easy. Not even once. However he refused to call his kids a problem. His dad called him like this more than once. And if John wasn’t a problem, his name was either accident or brat. Needless to say John was way nicer to his children than his father was to him. John loved all four of them. He really did, but… somebody had to look after them, while he wasn’t at home. So he had to ask either Polly or Ada and he didn’t know what would be worse.

His sister would spread the word of him having a girlfriend faster around than a disease. Maybe she would even spice up the story a little and add some drama just for the fun of it. Then he wasn’t out for a date, but to meet the woman he had impregnated or what else. And Polly, well she was the main reason he was scared to even mention his rendezvous. His aunt had the great talent to investigate his private life like fucking copper. Once she had sniffed something, she wouldn’t let go of it and kept bothering him.

Anyways he had to talk to one of them and the chat wouldn’t be a nice one. A choice between the foul and the evil. Ugh, he was in the mood to flip a coin. There were some on his desk. So why not? He looked around, if anybody was watching him, but he was alone in his office. Then he took a coin from the daily bets and tossed it. Once it was up in the air, he had made up his mind. The coin just proofed it. He should go to Polly and it would fit in his schedule as now was his lunch break and he would eat with the others anyway. If he would go now, he could still catch her alone in the kitchen. A grunt left his lips while he stood up from his chair. His pace was steady, but fast as he made his way through the betting shop. Luckily nobody noticed that he left his table a little too early.

He had never opened or closed a door as quietly as in this exact moment. “Polly?”, he had asked in a careful tone into the empty room. John heard movements from the kitchen. Suddenly her head peaked around the corner. “Yes, John?” She had emphasized every syllable as if he was stupid. Maybe he was just not ready to have this talk. On the other hand he had no chance. This was a now or never situation and he preferred now over never.

John gathered all his courage to approach her: “Would you do me a little favor?” All the sudden his hands were sweaty and no matter how many times he had rubbed them on his pants, it wouldn’t get any less smeary. Usually he wasn’t so nice and polite to his relatives. It was more like he had earned the title arrogant brat rightfully. He scratched his neck and gave her his best puppy eyes. And just to top it off his angelic smile, which had saved him many times before. Most of the times, he could avoid the consequences of his own actions with his charming smirk.

But today it didn’t help. Polly just shook her head. “What is it this time?”

“Just a little thing”, he began, then paused to take a deep breath and gain courage to exclaim his wish: “Can you watch the kids this evening? It’s really important.”

His aunt froze mid movement and starred at him. After a while she started blinking. Her glare was concerning. “Why this time? The last time was just a week ago. Another task from Tommy? He didn’t talked to me about this.”

John pressed his teeth again and shook his head. He looked at the roof and searched for the right words to explain his situation. Why was this so difficult? It was just a date. Yet it felt like so much more.

The Shelby sighed, while his hand was fumbling with his lighter in the pocket of his pants. “I’m meeting someone” was his short answer to a complex problem.

“Did Tommy ask you to?”, she asked once again. No matter if it was business or his private life, Polly liked to be up to date.

Again he shook his head. “No, not Tommy, but it’s still important. So would you please help me?”

Polly clucked her tongue and hurried back to the kitchen. John followed her and leaned against the door frame, waiting for his answer.

“Well, I got a meeting too, so you better change the appointment with said woman, because I don’t want to change my plans for you”, she replied, while stirring a pot. Afterwards she tapped the wooden spoon against the pot and turned around. “Lunch is ready. Better get your brothers, so we can eat.”

Apparently the conversation was over, because it really started, but John wouldn’t give up right away. “But I can’t”, he protested: “That’s the only night she is available and I don’t know how to reach her.”

Without looking at him, she walked right back into the living room and started putting dished on the table. “Ahh, see? I was right about the woman part… But why do you want to meet somebody you barely know?” Her question was reasonable.

John was so lost in his thought about her and yet he had no answer. No good ones. So he just said the next best thing: “I won a bet and I want to see her.”

Right when he said that his brother came in. Arthur widened his eyes and scratched his chin. “Want to see who?”, he asked. It was horrible how nosy his family was.

There was no peaceful day at the Shelby household. Never ever.

“He has a new girl, but he doesn’t know anything about her”, Polly retorted, before John even had the chance to answer himself.

Arthur chuckled and added: “Oh, Our John was never a man for talking. Right, John boy?”

They had to be fucking kidding him. It felt like he was sixteen again and started to meeting Martha. This was so embarrassing. John nodded slowly and gave his brother a false laugh.

“Well, we had other things to do”, John objected and it wasn’t quite the truth, but close enough. There was just no explanation why he was drawn to this woman, who was a stranger to him, but oh, those kisses really worked some crazy magic on him.

His brother burst out in laughter and slapped his hand on John’s back. “Oh, I know! I fucking know what you mean”, he exclaimed: “Why talk, when you can have fun with a woman?”

And right now, John couldn’t agree less. He wanted to talk with the mysterious woman, but she rushed off into the night before he could even say goodbye to her. Damn, he wished he knew more about her, maybe then he wouldn’t be so nervous right now. The Shelby didn’t feel like his usual cheeky, charming self, more like fucking train wreck.

His face got gleaming red, but he tried to act like was completely cool with it. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to sleep with her. Gosh, what wouldn’t he give to spend the night with her?

“Pol, you see John’s face. He is red like a crayfish”, Arthur joked and pulled his little brother into a headlock.

Their aunt walked around them, very carefully as she was carrying the big steam pot. She sounded like she was mentally everywhere else, when she murmured: “Yes, Arthur, I see it- shameful red- but now it’s time for lunch, so release your brother and come sit.” Somehow Polly managed to phrase it exactly like their mom used to say it, even though she was only three years older than Arthur, but he’d still respect her.

So he did what she asked him to do and let John go again to take a seat at the table.

It was the perfect timing to beg Polly once again, because he didn’t want to have the same conversation with his sister. “Polly, Please”, he insisted: “I wouldn’t ask you, if it wasn’t really important to me.”

“What is so important about one woman, that you have the great urge to meet her?”

That was the question he was asking himself all week, but okay. Now he needed to come up with an answer or otherwise he would have to get comfortable with the thought he would never see her again.

He licked his lips as he assembled the words in his brain to a convincing answer. “She has…”, he began, but then he got lost again.

“Huge cans?”, Arthur purposed with a big smile on his face.

But John shook his head: “Not that, her tits are average, there is something else about her and I can’t say what yet, that’s why I need to find out…. Or I go crazy.”

He turned to Polly and put on his puppy eyes again. “Do you want me to go crazy, Polly?”

Pol pouted and sighed. “Fine, you get your will again, but that’s the last time and don’t ever bother me with this again.”

His eyes shined bright in the lights of success and more importantly… winning an argument with his aunt. “Thank you and I’ll never bother you again.”

The matriarch went her way around her reign and said to herself: “We’ll see about that.”

Now this problem found its solution, the next question popped up in his head. Where were his kids? Because he was so caught up with his date, he had forgotten to pick them up from school. It wasn’t a serious issue. Three of them could walk home on their own, but the youngest was a different thing.

In his memory of this day, he had left Katie here, but she wasn’t running around like usually. “Pol, where are the kids?”

“The kids?”, she observed: “Oh, the kids you want to get rid of? You mean… those kids? They are upstairs.”

John grunted. That was far from reality and his aunt should know that. “That’s bullshit. I don’t want to get rid of them.”

“Then act like you care for them once instead of fucking around and I might believe you”, Polly chided and gave him the mean side eye, while she filled the plates with stew.

And she acted like a real bitch lately, John wanted to add, but bid his lip to stop himself from saying something he would regret deeply. It was so annoying how she tried to make him feel guilty for having a night off. He was so sick of this. Either he was working or he was with his kids and he had little or no time for himself. Just the few hours when they were asleep and he could go to the Garrison for a beer or two.

“It’s just one date!”, he yelled, but then clenched his fists and swallowed his anger and repeated quietly: “It’s just one date.”

The room was quiet now. Nobody said or did anything for a while.

Then Polly started moving again and explained: “You should focus on getting a wife and not play around with some floosy girl… but you’re an adult now, John, so do whatever you want… just don’t drag me into your mess.”

John nodded and went upstairs to get his kids. Yes, he was still bitter about the things Polly said to him, but he wouldn’t let this ruin his day. After all he had plans. Maybe he gripped the banister a little too tight, well, at least he didn’t bellowed at his children, when he found them making a mess in his old room.

All four were sitting here and around them were all the toys they had. Most of them were his old toys or some from his brothers.

“Lunch is ready”, he grunted and waited for them to get up, so they would follow him. They just stared at him with wide eyes.

His oldest daughter was the first to talk: “We heard you yell at Aunt Polly…”

He didn’t answer instead he just moaned and leaned against the wall.

“You’re away tonight”, she added and tilted her head. There was curiosity in her eyes. It didn’t bother him, but something else did. She had the same eyes as her mother. Like a dagger it pierced his heart, whenever she gave him this look. Martha used to do this as well.

Slowly he nodded. He couldn’t lie to his kids at all. “Yes, but you’ll be staying here and Polly will bring you home, when it’s bed time.”

Breanna thought about this for a second and then like this whole conversation had never happened, she stood up and helped her little sister to get on her feet as well. “Well, it’s time for lunch now”, she declared and look at her twin brother: “C’mon, James, we still got homework to do.”

Now that she was standing, John could see how small she was actually. Sometimes he forgot, she was still a child, but the way she acted was different. His oldest daughter had picked up a lot from Polly and her mother, while he was in France. However he tried to not treat her like an adult. She wasn’t and her childhood shouldn’t be ripped from her. Breanna didn’t need to protect her siblings from anything and yet she still thought it was her job.

James on the other hand was quite the opposite. Loud, angry, such a brat, he picked up fight, whenever he could, much like his father at that age.

Luckily his older brother Colin was also a voice of reason and not as chaotic as James. Colin was the oldest and he didn’t actually talk much, but on somedays and with certain persons he wouldn’t shut up. Most of the time Colin did good in school, read a lot, unlike his uncle Finn who was just five years older than him. And more importantly… Colin did everything his father asked him to.

And then here was Katie, the youngest. Just three years old and a sweet girl, but she was of fragile condition. She was born prematurely and was also the reason why Martha died. John tried to ignore the fact, because even though she was the reason, it wasn’t her fault. How could she? She didn’t pick her time to be born. However from time to time, Katie managed to make him cry. After the war, he rarely shed tears, but every time she was sick and he had to go with her to the hospital, he lost his nerves. She was still his little baby and the thought of losing her too wrecked him.

They were all on their way downstairs and John followed them back. He held Katie’s hands while walking down the stairs.

The lunch was very silent. There was still tension left in the room, but John didn’t cared. Katie was sitting on his lap and they both ate from the same plate, like they always did. But it wasn’t a cute ritual, more like a space problem, with all the family members around the table, it was a little cramped. Too cramped for Katie to have her own stool. Another reason, why he needed a wife. So he and his family could eat in his kitchen and they would all have enough space again.

A part of John was worried Polly or Arthur mentioned his date to Tommy, who would gladly take the opportunity to ruin his day. His older brother would pick all the question, John had been asking all week and then make him look stupid in front of the whole family. But apparently Polly was too pissed about the fight to say anything that day and John thanked god for this.

Somehow Katie spilled the stew all over his pants, but he had no time to go back home and change his pants. He still needed to finish the books and after that, he could get dressed for his date.

So John sat in his office in a damp suit and tried to fix what he did wrong before lunch.

Maybe the luck was on his side today after all, because he managed to get everything done early. Somethings didn’t went as smooth as he had wished for, but at least it worked out so well, that he could go to the date and it was still a win for him.

As fast as possible without running he walked home and sprinted up the stairs to the master bedroom. Now he could change his cloths and he was indeed very happy about it. The stew had dried on his leg, which made his skin itchy. Basically he ripped his clothes off the second he arrived in his room.

“Fuck.” A curse left his lips, because he got stuck in his pants and almost hit the floor. Last second he got his balance back and then threw his pants in the opposite direction. He could care about this later.

First he had to clean the stains from his body. So he rushed to the kitchen, just in his underwear and rubbed his leg with a wet cloth. This had to be enough. With the time he had left, he couldn’t take a bath.

Back in his room again, he stood in front of the cabinet and picked the first suit he had in his hand. There was no discussion about this. Suits were suits and he had plenty of them, all of them looked good on him and she wouldn’t even mind, would she?

While he button up his shirt, he stopped all the sudden. What if she would mind? Slowly he walked backwards to the cabinet. Should he wear his Sunday suit? Thought and thoughts came rushing in. She seemed like a fine lady, but yet she agreed to meet with him. Maybe she wouldn’t, if it wasn’t for the bet.

He got headache since his argument with Polly and it got worse. Maybe he would go to the spot, where they should meet and she wasn’t there. The possibility, that she tricked him, hadn’t occurred in his mind until now.

Honestly, John felt so stupid, when he realized how weird the coincidence was. What were his chances to be so lucky? To meet a beautiful, wealthy and unmarried woman, who was also funny and charming and mysterious and he could find a ton more of adjectives to describe her? And then win the round and the bet, he had made with her? What were his chances for that? So either he was one of the luckiest men in this world or a goddamn idiot.

Or maybe… his mind tricked him. He was pretty drunk after all and in his twisted mind the details of this scene got lost. Maybe he didn’t win the round, but because he wished so bad for it, he had changed his memory of that said night. Maybe he was so lonely he made up this perfect woman, because he couldn’t bare his poor existence anymore.

And did he think about his stupid suit so much?

Yes, he was nervous, but this was no explanation for this nonsense.

Right now, John was freaking out about a woman he barely knew. It reminded him of a time, where he did the same thing… but with Martha, a girl he had known all his life. Back then and today he was well aware of why he was so nervous around his first wife. He loved her and he was afraid of saying or doing something very stupid.

But he didn’t loved that Russian woman. He couldn’t, not after only one kiss. It was impossible and yet the kiss felt so real. The memory of her lips was burned into his mind and it drove him crazy.

And he didn’t know, why he had this feeling, which wasn’t love and he didn’t even know what it was, and suddenly he had more questions in his head than he ever had in his whole life.

Usually, he didn’t think that much about anything. He wasn’t the guy who put much thought into every little thing that happened around him.

Everything he wanted to do now was to yell. He couldn’t even put his frustration into words anymore.  His head was full of white noise.

Barefooted he stood on the wooden floor of his bedroom, which he used to share with the love of his life. John took a few deep breaths and looked around. Everything was still the same. After the war he had no energy to change something in here, even though it was just fueling his mental health issues. There was still her cabinet with her dresses and her stuff and sometimes when he was particularly lonely, he felt the fabric and imagined her soft body under it. It didn’t smell like Martha anymore, but sometimes he wished.

It felt like suffocating. He couldn’t breathe nor cry, even though tears filled his eyes.

He walked over to his nightstand and looked at the photograph of her. “You don’t get to fucking judge me”, he whispered: “Like you always did. You died and I’m still here and I love you and I always will, but don’t ruin this for me.”

“You put all these questions in my head, so I’ll fuck up and ruin everything”, he argued… with his dead wife like she was there. And he could imagine her so well, standing next to him with her arms crossed in front of her chest and that piercing look in her eyes.

Even before she died, he talked a lot to her and about her and sometimes just to himself, but it just got worse, when he came home from France. He can’t handle the silence in the room nor the void his head. Suddenly he said with a soft voice: “I know, what I promised you back then and when I made that promise, I believed every word of it, but you can’t be the only woman I’ll ever love now. You are dead.”

He wasn’t there when she died and the worst part was… he hadn’t even known until he got home. Polly said, she was about to write a letter, but then she couldn’t, because she didn’t want to bother him, while he was in the trenches. Of course, he had worries, when he didn’t get a letter from his wife in months. John just thought she was mad at him, because she was pregnant again while he was away. And then he came home and his house was empty. No Martha and no kids. So he walked back to Polly’s Place and then she told him. His wife was dead and he was surrounded by his family, but he had never felt so lonely in the world.

To this very day, this memory haunted him in the worst way.

And yet, he refused to crumble right away. Not before it had even started. Life was going on and he refused to just stand there, while the time passed. He would walk, run away from this memory if he had to.

“Let me try it at least”, he bargained: “You don’t know her and neither do I. She could be a beast, a real bitch and maybe, just maybe I don’t want to see her again. And maybe I’ll do, but that’s not your decision. I make my own decisions now, because that’s how things work for the living people, Martha.”

It hurt to say her name, but he had to. The word had so much power over him and he took this power back, by saying it. Then he flipped the photograph over and walked back to the cabinet.

Without a second doubt he picked his finest suit and just like that Martha was gone. She would come back eventually, but right now he had other things to do. Like do his hair and drink a little sip of whiskey for confidence.

With a toothpick in his mouth, he left the house and walked the road. All alone.

[jeongyunhoed]

Past-Present-Future Black Dahlia

Two major tragedies bring Lee Mirae closer to the edge as she goes through the stages of grief in a more violent manner that would affect not only her relationships with her boyfriend Jeong Yunho and her half-brother Choi San, but also has her becoming closer with the immortal mutant Kang Yeosang. Fueled by rage, grief, and pain, along with a very rude awakening that has Mirae spiraling out of control and questioning everything she holds dear.

Group: ATEEZ Member: Yunho Pairing: Jeong Yunho / OC Genre: Action, adventure, angst, fantasy

Watch Out! : Violence, blood, death, grief and loss, major character deaths, use of weapons, some jealousy (but no cheating ofc), implied smut (not sure if there is any but i’m putting it out there nonetheless), mental illness (probably?), gambling and alcohol

Anything else? : Mentions of other idols of course as well as other characters. SuperM, Dean, Chanyeol, Zelo, soloist Park Jihoon to name a few.

Author’s Note: First chapter is here! Compared to the previous stories from the AU, this might have very long chapters, like more than 10 pages in google docs long. But anyway, tag list is open, and yeah. Enjoy the first of a rollercoaster of emotions.

This whole first chapter also, is me giving brief backstories of what happened before/backstories of many characters here. Basic plot is mine, characters are not. This is all for fun/entertainment/emotional anguish. 

Masterlist

Chapter 1

When one is at their breaking point, everything begins to change.  The lines between right and wrong are blurred, and one’s moral compass begins to spin into oblivion. 

9:00 p.m. 

Laughter filled the almost empty space of Viva Polo, having closed for the night except for a table occupied by Lee Mirae, Park Chanyeol, and Kwon Hyuk. The rest of the tables had already been overturned, marking the end of another day at work, at least for Chanyeol. The three of them had a tradition of meeting up every week, something they started doing after the previous adventures they had. 

The three of them were mutants, and to their knowledge, they were the last surviving members of the group that saved the country, if not the world during the Seoul attack. A year after that, the three of them found each other again, reuniting to save the country once again from an evil cult bent on achieving utopia through taking control of its citizens. Two adventures that had major consequences on the three of them, and events that they will forever remember. 

Two of them, Mirae and Hyuk, were classified as omega-level or level 5 mutants, with powers that were impossible to surpass by any other mutant thus far. Mirae was not only gifted in a mastery of hand-to-hand combat, both armed and unarmed, but she had the gift of manipulating potential energy into kinetic energy. She could turn virtually any object into an explosive and if channeled to an extreme extent, was able to level a skyscraper. 

With her abilities came the secondary gift of a healing factor that made her almost immortal and slowed down her aging immensely. Because of her ability to manipulate energy, she was also able to generate static that resulted in a very strong psychic block that was only made stronger by another omega-level mutant, Jang Ino. From the adventures she had on her own and even after the Utopian cult, another ability manifested itself in her; taking souls and trapping them into objects, usually her deck of cards. 

Meanwhile, Kwon Hyuk, a well-known music producer and songwriter, was a level 5 telekinetic and could move anything with his mind. His psychic abilities also gave him the gift of producing shields that were almost impenetrable. 

 In their adventure into the Utopian cult, Hyuk developed his telepathic abilities, which he used to extract memories or read into memories of others. Hyuk was nearly captured by the goons from the Utopian cult when they met again, and has since tried to use his powers as discreetly as possible with some difficulty. 

Hyuk didn’t formally join Mirae and Chanyeol until the later days of the Seoul attack, having laid low, undiscovered by Ino who was at the time, serving his father Professor Inhwan Jang. Hyuk had openly used his powers in front of the group during a time when Mirae and one of her other colleagues, a telekinetic named Luhan, were affected by the goblin king’s inducement of traumatic memories that caused their powers to manifest for the first time. 

It was there that Hyuk realized that he could do so much more with his mutant gifts, rather than use them solely for trivial purposes.

Hyuk had a cousin, the singer Lee Midam, who was under his entertainment agency, in the 10-member group called Silver. Midam was, like him, a psychic, but of a different kind. Midam was a psychic that could make the worst fears or strongest desires of another person come to life before them. Midam also had the ability to sense when a person will die in the near future. 

Park Chanyeol was a level 4 pyrokinetic, also known as an alpha-level mutant. He created and manipulated fire in all its aspects, from turning into a fire being to being able to put out and set fire onto virtually anything. In his fire form, he was granted the ability to fly and heal and even out of his fire form, Chanyeol could withstand extreme heat. 

He worked with Mirae in the Center for Paranormal Research upon his discovery by Ino, leaving his work in his mother’s Italian restaurant behind to find purpose for his abilities. For some time after the Seoul attack, Chanyeol thought he was the only one left, until he was seen by another survivor, their tech guy Choi Junhong, looking over the remains of what used to be the Center, the epicenter of the entire attack. 

From the adventures they had, the three of them still managed to continue with their lives. Hyuk stayed in his agency to work on music, Chanyeol helped around his parents’ restaurant and live club, while Mirae ran the music store that she took ownership in after the passing of her adoptive parents. Hyuk and Chanyeol also helped other mutants like them, Mirae’s old colleagues from her days as an assassin under a sanitarium, practice controlling their powers. 

With the way the events of the past years shaped them, their lives would forever be intertwined and they knew it. Even with the disagreements that occurred in the final days of the Seoul attack, with the three of them being the only survivors from that group that acted, they were like family to each other. 

“One of these days, we’ll go on a mission, do something, just the three of us again,” Chanyeol said fondly, finishing the last slice of pizza from his place. 

“Even if we don’t go on something like that, we should still do something, just the three of us,” Mirae repeated with a grin. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” 

“Yeah, someone needs to watch your back this time, you nearly got your powers taken away,” Hyuk pointed out, taking a sip of his iced tea. 

The last adventure Mirae went on involved a demon and their followers, the one responsible for a long-running conspiracy that went behind the glitz and glamour of the country’s entertainment industry. Mirae was outmatched and captured, her powers being used to channel the summoning of the demon Ose. It left her boyfriend Yunho and her half-brother San, along with her old colleagues including immortal mutant billionaire Kang Yeosang, to be the ones to save her and the world. 

Mirae shook her head. “It was only one time. Just one. But I’m starting to think I’m losing my touch, to be honest,” She looked down at her now-empty plate. 

“I wouldn’t think of it that way if I were you,” Hyuk patted her shoulder. “You still have your powers, don’t you? Didn’t Junhong say your powers only got stronger after that? You’re practically invincible.” 

“Says the person who is also practically invincible,” Mirae grinned. 

“But I don’t heal like you do. Chanyeol doesn’t even heal like you unless he sets himself on fire.” 

“Can you stop talking about injuries now? I think we’ll be late for that training session both of you promised the guys,” Mirae nudged the telekinetic. 

Chanyeol got up at the mention of the training session. All of their plates floating in mid-air, the cutlery and glasses sorting themselves out, as Hyuk followed the taller male into the kitchen, making sure nothing dropped. Mirae smiled to herself as she removed the tablecloth and the napkins. 

The boys at the safehouse would be waiting for them, San and Yunho included. Choi San was her half-brother, and had almost the same abilities as her, including her healing factor and a mastery of martial arts. Unlike Mirae, who channeled her powers mainly through her extendable staff, San channeled his into a harpoon gun. 

San’s powers first manifested in his high school years, as a result of the constant pressure placed on him by their father, who wanted him to pursue a career he himself wanted. Upon learning how to control his abilities better, San ran away from home, eventually learning the skills he knew to become a paid hitman. San also witnessed Mirae getting taken away to be interned at the sanitarium, and he looked everywhere for her.

Jeong Yunho was Mirae’s boyfriend. Yunho was also like her, skilled in hand-to-hand combat, both unarmed and armed. Yunho was also a mutant, an immortal mutant who possessed the ability to teleport, but could only do so in dark places. 

Yunho’s powers manifested when he was killed in Morocco during what would be Mirae’s final mission before she was discharged. Her memories of him were seemingly erased in the final electroshock therapy session used to alter her recollection of missions. They only found each other again when Mirae was being targeted by the Kang crime family, descendants of Yeosang who held a disdain for mutants. 

Hyuk returned from the kitchen. “What’s that smile about?” He asked. 

“Nothing, nothing, I just realized how it’s been a while since we did something like this together,” Mirae replied. 

“Lee Mirae, you’re getting sappy.” 

“Did I lie?” She laughed. 

“No, but that’s weird of you,” Hyuk laughed as well. “I mean you are right. I’ve been busy practically managing the group, Chanyeol’s busy here, we’re just busy living our lives.” 

“My point stands that we’ve never done anything together in a while, unless those goblins come up again and try to kill us,” Mirae joked. 

“Hopefully not,” Said the psychic, the table in front of them turning itself over on top of another table. “Even with the way things ended back then, I’m glad the three of us found each other.” 

The kitchen doors opened and Chanyeol returned, wiping his hands, with his backpack in tow. “Whose car are we using?” He asked. 

Without another word, the three of them extended their fists. Both Mirae and Chanyeol had scissors, while Hyuk’s hand remained curled into a fist. “Guess it’s yours then, Mr. Psychic,” Mirae grinned. 

“Be glad I stopped for gas before coming here,” He gave them a look as they left the restaurant. 

~ 

The car pulled up in front of a brick-walled building that had a vending machine. It was the entrance to the safehouse that now became the headquarters of everything mutant-related. It was also where Mirae’s old colleagues were now staying, with the exception of two; Jung Wooyoung and Park Seonghwa. 

The three of them got out, sensing the slight change in the air as they approached the machine. They knew there was a sort of cloaking over the spot that shielded anyone from seeing that the vending machine moved to the side to reveal a secret passage. Chanyeol, Mirae, and Hyuk entered the dark passageway and stopped at the red door at the very end. 

The safehouse was similarly modeled to the recreation room in the Center for Paranormal Research, with a couch and beanbags surrounding a flat-screen television and several game consoles. There was a sleeping quarters and a shower area and a kitchen that was only stocked with instant food. Ino and Junhong’s labs and offices were in the two other doors in the kitchen area that had a small dining table where they would at least take turns in eating. 

This time, the safehouse had since expanded thanks to Ino’s ability to manipulate matter. Junhong’s lab was much bigger, more beds were added to the sleeping quarters, and there was a small training room that Junhong fortified. A shelf was behind the television, showing all the weapons carried by the group of men who now resided in the place; a rapier, a set of nunchaku, and a few axes and shurikens. Those belonged to three people: Kim Hongjoong, Choi Jongho, and Song Mingi. 

All of them were trained assassins, skilled in hand-to-hand combat both unarmed and armed. While Mirae and Yunho were no longer part of the group, the remaining members were turned into personal guards of the Kang crime family and underwent several experiments to turn them into super soldiers. All of them were impervious to pain and were a lot more agile in their movements. 

It was those experiments that triggered the mutant gene in each of them, their own mutant abilities manifesting around the same time. Hongjoong possessed superhuman speed and could be as fast as the speed of light that also enabled him to heal if wounded. Seonghwa was a telekinetic, whose powers also made itself known if his eyes and fingertips glowed green. Mingi, like Chanyeol, was also a pyrokinetic, but unlike Chanyeol, could only manipulate flames that already exist. 

Wooyoung on the other hand, possessed the ability to turn into a shadow being. His shadow form allowed him to be intangible, as well as give him superhuman strength and a healing factor. But along with his shadow form, Wooyoung developed a kind of extrasensory perception, where he could see past and future events from a person or an object, or even a name. 

Jongho had the painful ability to manipulate his bone structure, and his arms and legs would produce a sharp spike that could pierce anything. 

They immediately noticed that a few other weapons were shelved, as they were likely in the labs or in the training room; a set of sai, katanas, a bow and a quiver full of arrows, and the harpoon gun. Everyone was indeed present. 

“Hello?” Hyuk called out as they closed the door behind them. 

“We’re here!” Chanyeol called out as well. 

“Yunho? San?” Mirae spoke, looking around the empty living room. 

Suddenly materializing in front of them was Ino. “Good! You’re all here! The rest of them are in the training rooms, but can you wait a little bit? There’s something I’m finishing and I hope the three of you can test it out for me,” He said. 

Jang Ino was a prime example of a true omega-level mutant, with abilities so powerful he was almost like a god. Ino had the gift of manipulating matter, inter-dimensional teleportation, telekinesis, telepathy, duplication with sentient clones, intangibility, precognition as well as the ability to see everything as it happened. Ino’s abilities manifested much later than the rest of them despite not being much older than Chanyeol, Hyuk, and Mirae, and thus had more difficulty trying to control each of his abilities. 

“Really? What is it?” Mirae asked as Chanyeol put down his backpack while she put down her staff. 

Ino looked excited. “Another training room, or…?” 

“Another Danger Room,” Hyuk nodded. “Can it not turn into a vortex manipulator again?” 

“I can’t promise that, but it’s as safe as ever, right? Just like old times,” Ino was beaming. “Ah, well, you might as well see it for yourself. I’ll call the rest of them,” and he disappeared. 

“Are we supposed to wait for them here?” Chanyeol glanced at them, and they shrugged. 

A commotion erupted from the door that was Junhong’s lab, making them turn around. “For a telekinetic, you could’ve aimed better! You could’ve killed me!” Hongjoong appeared, shooting Seonghwa a look. 

“You sped away in time! You knew it wasn’t going to reach you anyway!” Seonghwa argued back. 

“Well I wasn’t able to, not when Mingi keeps playing with that lighter of his! It’s like having to pass by a dragon each time I’m next to him.” 

“So your situation is actually my fault, is that what you’re saying?” Mingi spoke, looking at them incredulously. “I was practicing my pyrokinesis the way Chanyeol hyung showed me, right, San?”

“Stop including me!” said the male who had a visible white streak in his hair similar to Mirae’s. 

“This was a department store-bought shirt and Jongho just had to ruin it!” Wooyoung shrieked, pointing to the tears in his sleeve. 

“Welcome to my world, Wooyoung! Live with it!” Jongho shot back.

“At least I don’t have spikes coming out of my sleeves and pants!”

Chanyeol and Mirae exchanged looks. Hyuk stifled a laugh. “Kind of reminds you how much we bickered back then, huh? I bet those guys would’ve loved to see a repeat of this,” He chuckled. 

“Nothing seems to have changed after all,” Mirae laughed, their reactions making the group stop in their tracks. “We just had dinner,” She explained. “I see training’s been going well?” 

“Not so much when the rest of them bicker more than San and I do,” out of the group came Yunho, who immediately swept her up in a hug then exchanged high fives with Hyuk and Chanyeol as he pulled away. 

The taller form of Junhong appeared from the crowd as well, with scorch marks on his lab coat and a hole in his clipboard. Ino had materialized again as well. “So, the Danger Room, Junhong?” Hyuk asked. 

“Yes, yes, the Danger Room,” Junhong led them to the pair of doors on the other side of the space. He pushed the button, the doors opening up to reveal a dark room covered in what looked like steel tiles. There was a panel of buttons near the doors from the inside and on one side of the room, was a booth. “Ta-da!” He announced, looking over at the three of them, while the rest looked amazed. 

“A little shift in elements here and there, I was able to expand this entire space of ours, make it a little more familiar, don’t you think?” Ino smiled. 

Mirae approached the panel of buttons near the side. “Ice fortress, dystopia, post-apocalypse, zombie invasion, alien invasion, gladiator arena,” She read out. Mirae turned to the next set of buttons and looked over at Junhong. “Why is my name at the top of this panel? Am I a level of difficulty?” She asked, looking puzzled. 

“The highest,” Ino spoke. “But that level’s reserved for the three of you, not that these guys can’t do it, but the three of you are more experienced.” 

“San and Yunho are just as experienced, if you ask me,” Mirae pointed out with a shrug, choosing not to argue any more. 

“Yes, but they’ve never been through the same missions as you and Chanyeol did back at the Center, remember?” Ino reminded her. “The creatures at the museum, the goblin warriors at the train station, and their throne room, and the jewelry store at night?” 

“I remember the jewelry store one,” Hyuk said, glancing at her. “We were coming from dinner when the store exploded. It was the time I found out Mirae was a mutant.” 

Mirae smiled at her friend’s recollection. “Yeah, you came from that singing competition too.” 

Chanyeol grinned. “The train station, I remember that well. Everyone hated us when they saw what was happening in broad daylight. Junmyeon got hot coffee thrown at him...” He looked down the more he remembered. 

Ino noticed Wooyoung squinting at him, the rest of them looking fascinated by their brief trip down memory lane. “Well, I thought I’d show the rest of them how the three of you would do things in these simulations. Hyuk, I know you joined us late at the time, but you still know a thing or two on how to handle non-human entities, right?” He said. 

“Oh yeah, I was with you all at the Esteholm,” Hyuk smiled. Sensing everyone else’s confused expressions, he chuckled. “It’s a hidden marketplace for non-humans, goblins, witches, warlocks, ogres…” 

“You mean those things were actually here all this time?! On this planet?!” Mingi gaped at him and they nodded. 

“Okay, okay, we’ll have a lot of time to talk about that later, but let’s have the three of you take this new Danger Room for a test run?” Ino suggested. “The rest of you follow Junhong into the booth, we’ll all watch from there.” 

“What are we taking on?” Mirae asked. 

Hyuk approached the panels. “What about…” He stopped when he read the mode at the bottom. “Evil villain mansion? What kind of mode is that?” He laughed. 

Chanyeol and Mirae laughed as well. Mirae glanced at the booth, giving a thumbs up to Yunho and San, who looked excited as did the rest of them. “It’s exactly what it is. The mansion of the bad guy,” Junhong said from the booth. 

“Alright then, put up the difficulty rate to my name, I guess,” Mirae said. 

“That’s what I had in mind. Initializing evil villain mansion, Lee Mirae difficulty,” Junhong announced. 

Hyuk backed away, until he was back to back with Chanyeol and Mirae. They heard tiles shifting and a swirling of colors all around them, bringing in a strong gust of wind. Mirae took out her staff from her jacket pocket and extended it. After a few moments, the swirling was disappearing, and they found themselves in what was the ballroom of a large, abandoned house that had some bits of modern technology on the locks of the doors and the windows. 

“Okay, so this is the evil villain mansion,” Chanyeol mumbled as they took in their surroundings. “Where’s the evil villain, then?” 

Mirae took a step forward, seeing two metal circles near the large fireplace. There was a seven-pointed star engraved on one circle, a hexagon that had the shape of a keyhole in the middle engraved on the other. The circles began to turn, until it slowly went up to reveal coffin-shaped tubes. 

“This is oddly specific,” She muttered. 

Hyuk and Chanyeol stared at the tubes as well. The closer they looked, they saw bodies, blackened and as if they had been mummified. “This is very specific,” Chanyeol nodded, feeling a chill down his spine as they approached the tubes. 

Back at the booth, the rest of them stared at what was happening. “Can they see us?” Jongho asked curiously. 

“I don’t think they can, can they?” Hongjoong glanced at Junhong, who was looking at the panels of controls. “But the surroundings look so real.” 

“I know I should be used to this, but this is something I’ve never seen before…” San was staring at the tubes that were opening up in front of the three. 

“Me neither, and I thought I’ve seen everything,” Yunho nodded. 

From the side of the room, Wooyoung could suddenly see flashes of scenes in his head. He looked back at what was happening, seeing Hyuk, Mirae, and Chanyeol nearly destroy the surroundings they were in as humanoid demons with large talons began to attack them. The flashes kept coming. He could see people he hadn’t seen before having been inside the very booth they were in. Yet, Wooyoung wasn’t sure if this had already happened or it was about to happen. He stayed watching the simulation that Mirae, Hyuk, and Chanyeol were in. 

~ 

“Kind of familiar, isn’t it? The train station,” Mirae’s eyes and fingertips were glowing as she sent shockwaves towards the two demons, but to no avail. Instead, the demons clapped their hands, sending similar shockwaves towards her. “They’re parrots.” 

“What do you mean parrots?” Chanyeol had transformed into his fire form, dodging the attacks that were coming towards him. 

“They’re copying everything we do,” Mirae spun her staff a few times before hitting the demon, only to be sent back by the other, who had turned into a fiery figure as well. 

“Can they copy this?” Hyuk waved his hand, sending the two demons in mid-air. His eyes widened when the figure also raised their claws at him, lifting him up and off the floor. “This is impossible-” He crashed into the wall, moving away when some of the decor fell down. 

“Looks like Junhong had his work cut out for him,” Chanyeol tried to burn down the doors of the room until the surroundings changed into what looked like a massive dock full of zeppelins and tables full of volatile chemicals in test tubes and beakers. “Yeah, now I can see why Mirae turned into a level of difficulty.” 

“Let’s try not to touch anything, or interact with anything on those tables,” Mirae looked around on alert. 

They heard a blast from all the way on the other side of the room. “Looks like they found us,” Hyuk said, trying to move the zeppelins as carefully as possible towards the source of the blasts. 

“Those might explode if you let them get blasted,” Chanyeol called out at the telekinetic. 

“Would you rather we get out of here with those? We don’t even know what to use these for” Hyuk pointed out, still trying to move the airships as the blasts grew louder, the impact exploding the tables closest to it. “At least they get blasted and we don’t-” 

Boom. 

There was a blast on their side of the dock, sending the three of them to the floor, as bits of shrapnel and the chemicals on the tables exploded. A large cloud of smoke enveloped them, soon revealing that they were no longer at the dock. They were back in the Danger Room, or at least what was left of the Danger Room.

Mirae opened her eyes, feeling considerably beaten as she looked around, surprised at what she was seeing. Her clothes were scorched, her staff was gone, and from the gust of wind that hit her, she realized what happened. 

The safehouse seemed to have exploded. 

Mirae looked around for a sign of Chanyeol and Hyuk. Was she still in the simulation? “Mirae! Mirae! Mirae! Are you alright?” She turned around, seeing Junhong, Yunho, and Hongjoong run up to her. “The machines overloaded when I was about to take you three out of there,” The tech guy explained. 

She nodded, a feeling of dread suddenly overcoming her as she looked around the area. “Chanyeol? Hyuk?” She called out, kicking away a few bits and pieces of the rubble that surrounded them. “Chanyeol-” She stopped, feeling her heart sink. 

Chanyeol was lying on the floor, a puddle of blood near his head, and bits of shrapnel having hit his sides. Mirae looked around for a sign of the telekinetic, only to realize that he was also lying on the floor, eyes glazed over. A piece of shrapnel hit his head.

“Chanyeol, Hyuk,” Mirae bent down, moving the rubble away from her best friends. She refused to believe it, refused to think that what happened really happened. “Chanyeol, Hyuk,” She took one of the sharp rocks and cut open her wrist, pouring some of the blood into where Chanyeol was hit. “Come on, both of you, this isn’t funny,” She saw that they weren’t moving while her wrist had already healed. 

Junhong bent down to check Hyuk’s pulse, only for his expression to fall when he realized there was none. “Mirae,” He tried to say. 

“No, I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t believe you,” Mirae shook her head profusely, crawling up to Hyuk. Tears were already falling from her eyes as the reality was hitting her bit by bit. “No, no, this can’t happen, not here, not now, no,” She patted his face, but no response. “No, Hyuk, no, don’t, please-” A sob escaped her as she held his body. “Hyuk, no, no, no, no, no,” She sobbed, reaching out to hold Chanyeol’s hand that was going cold. “No, please no, Chanyeol, Hyuk, you two can stop it now, please…” 

“Mirae,” Junhong said again. 

Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged looks, hearing the rest of their colleagues including San appear, all of them had traces of the smoke from the explosion on them. 

“No!” Mirae shook her head again, until she broke down. They were gone. Her best friends. Gone.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Crush Pt. 2 (Request)

Pairing: Batman x reader

Synopsis: You’d always been a bit nervous and awkward around the famous Batman but after Clark finally convinced Bruce to ask you out, you were going on a date that weekend.

Note: Honestly in this I just imagine that they day job would either be in fashion or writing, maybe journalism or a mix of both. Fashion journalism anyone? lol

Warnings:

Word Count: 1571

        You knew how you got Bruce’s number, it was still just processing. Clark was the one behind all of this and you knew it. He had finally convinced Bruce to ask you out after one day at the watchtower and thankfully, the famous Batman did. You had just woken up. Today both you and the Batman were having a day off. Everyone would know why you cashed that weekend in if everything worked out the way you hoped it would.

        It was mid Saturday morning. You didn’t want to sleep in too long seeing as you told yourself that even though you were having dinner with Bruce, you’d be late. It didn’t really make sense but it was what you almost always went by. He had mentioned that he had a few kids, they were all busy elsewhere however. You chuckled at the thought of Batman having kids. It wasn’t unknown that he had all of his side -kicks who eventually became their own heroes, you just thought it was funny that he felt the need to make sure they weren’t going to bombard the two of you.

        Getting out of bed after a while of debating it, you put on some music and started getting ready for the day. The sunlight streamed into your apartment from all of the windows once you opened the curtains. It was cool when you stepped out onto the balcony. The noise of cars below filled the city and was ever present in the atmosphere around you. You loved living in the city but for the fact of the chances of an attack. In the part that you lived however, that wasn’t really an issue. Downtown was more of the probable area for any sort of attack. You and Diana tag teamed in New York when she wasn’t in Paris. She often flew back and forth from each and since you guys got along really well, it wasn’t a big deal.

        After showering, you got dressed. There were a few things that you needed to do before your dinner tonight. The first of those was getting a new outfit. You typically had many things that you could wear for work dinners or events that you were attending. It was important to look nice at your day job since you were top in the hypothetical food chain. Once you made editor- and- chief at the company you worked at, everything had gotten even more lavish.

        You attracted a percentage of media and press coverage all by yourself so you didn’t really know what to expect tonight with Bruce. Walking out into your ride surrounded by paparazzi and your security, you got into the back as fast as possible and road off. The first place you would stop was Barneys New York.

_______________________________________________________________________

        Once inside of the shopping center, you were mostly left alone but for a few people who either wanted pictures or the very rare autograph now a days. Not many people asked for that at all and sometimes it was weirder to ask for one rather than a picture. It was pretty quiet inside without too many people in some stores. Those were mainly the stores that you stuck to. Walking around, nothing particularly caught your attention. Everything was something that you really already had for work purposes. The only thing that you thought might be nice was a black off the shoulder long sleeve top with a bit of cleavage but not enough to look tacky for what you were going out for. It reminded you of a shirt you already had once but it had gotten destroyed on a past mission. You actually really liked the shirt and decided to get it. You’d have something back at your apartment to pair it with.

_______________________________________________________________________

        For the rest of the day, you did nothing but either hype yourself up or sit on the couch watching whatever you wanted to. That was at least after you had visited your office and picked up a few things that you needed to get done with writing and such. There were some formats and colors that you needed to okay before Monday morning’s printing.

        It was 4:30 before you even thought about moving from the couch again. Bruce was set to pick you up at 6 for your dinner reservations at Marea which is right on Central Park. It would be a quick ride there but you did feel kind of bad that he was driving from Gotham to New York. It wasn’t that far away but that didn’t mean it didn’t bother you some.

        Since you had plenty of time before he arrived, you got a protein bar and then started touching up your hair once you found the perfect playlist. From there, you thought it best to touch up the little amount of makeup you had on from the errands you had to run earlier and then got dressed. For the time that you had remaining, it was just a matter of waiting. You’ve been on dates with semi important people before. You’ve been out with very important people before on even just business dinners. Hell, you’ve even been to the Met Gala, you just really didn’t want this date to go wrong.

_______________________________________________________________________

        Bruce had already come and was sitting in your living room. He had brought flowers so you were putting them in a vase before you left.

        “You know Clark was actually the one who told me I had to ask you out.” He said making you laugh some.

        “I did know, that man can’t keep his excitement over someone else’s relationships under wraps for the life of him. I’ll thank him if it works out.” You replied putting the flowers into the vase.

        “Well, the only way we’ll know is if we go. Shall we?” He asked gesturing towards the door.

        “Indeed, we shall.”

        The two of you headed out and made your way to the back entrance of the building. Typically, if you were with a larger group of people and didn’t want to be noticed, you’d summon a car to come back there. It was a bit risky at times depending on what was happening or the time, however you were pretty sure you’d be fine, especially now that Bruce was there. He opened the door for you and you slid in, quickly followed by him. The driver already knew where you were going and since you knew the driver, there was no conversation.

_______________________________________________________________________

        Once at the restaurant, you both were out of the car and inside as fast as possible. Before anyone could get any sort of pictures or message that you two were there, you were brought into a nice and quiet back room of the building for your reservation. There you sat down and got your menus.

        “So ... Mr. Wayne, what do you do when you’re not either working a massive corporation or managing a mass company of those interested in intergalactic security?” You asked.

        “Haven’t quite figured that out yet. Having multiple children leaves not much else to do.” He answered.

        “I would assume it would be a bit time consuming. In all aspects.”

        “And you? What with being in a leadership position at the top fashion editorial magazines in the world on top of your countless side jobs. What do you do as a down time?” Bruce questioned mimicking you, making you smirk a bit.

        “Yoga.” You said with a straight face making him cock his brow, “I’m just kidding. In all seriousness, if I have the chance, I get 8-12 hours of sleep.” “So, nothing that exciting as well.”

        “Well we seem to not be the most exciting of people.” He looked a bit relaxed at that moment but almost seemed to have tensioned up once more.

        “Oh, the irony of it. I think if anyone were too exciting they’d ultimately be boring and predictable.”

        “I guess that that is correct.” He smirked at the comment, “You seem more intelligent than what you let off. And that is saying a lot.”        

        “Why thank you. It does serve its purpose. Imagine the editor-and-chief of some magazine being able to follow in conversations on international affairs military and business.” You said, “It’s fun for me.”

        “Must be. Plus is seems a good cover.”

        “It is.”

_______________________________________________________________________

        The two of you talked and talked well into dinner almost forgetting that you would have to leave. It was the first time that either of you had felt comfortable doing anything like this. Sure, you had Diana and he had Clark, but neither of you had seen interactions like this with them. Bruce payed for dinner and the two of you left. This time it was from the front of the restaurant. There was press out front with cameras and questions. You both quickly got into the car and laughed about what tomorrows tabloids would look like.

        Bruce dropped you off. You didn’t let him stay the night, much to his pleasant surprise and he left to head back for Gotham. You locked your door and set the alarm for the apartment, greeting security as they arrived for their night watch. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about everything, you just knew there was nothing negative surrounding the night. Smiling, you went off to bed ready and waiting to see the articles and pictures drowning the important news out tomorrow.

[officialthiamlibrary]

Got any canon fics set post 6B?

Here you go! A mix of older fics and some within the last month, I hope you’ll enjoy them!

Ocean Front Property and Yoda Wisdom by Diary (Teen | Complete | 1.3K) Tags: Frenemies, angst and feels Summary: Post-canon. Theo has issues, Stiles cares about Liam, and these facts interconnect. Complete. A Peek Inside: “I still don’t like or trust you. Okay, I never will. But you’ve been good for him. And I gotta admit, seeing you in love is an interesting thing.”

Hold Me. I’ve Lost My Anchor. by SterekShipper (General | Complete | 5K) Tags: Hurt/comfort, angst, there is a second fic that follows this one Summary: Once again Liam and Theo had been in a fight. There was nothing unusual about that. It happened all the time. It was a natural part of their relationship. This fight however, had a different ending. A Peek Inside: It was just a fight. There was never a reason. Not really. Their relationship consisted of bickering and playful jibes. A bond had formed the night of the hospital. The night Theo had faced the Ghost Riders head on, fully intending to sacrifice himself. All to save him.

Stones by cherrysprite (General | Complete | 2.6K) Tags: First kiss, Theo introspection Summary: Theo begins to find his place as a normal nineteen year old with an accidental rock collection. A Peek Inside: One day, he sees a man sitting outside that said cafe, playing his guitar softly while people walk past without a second thought. It’s one of the more jarring parts of Theo’s detachment, he realizes. If he were normal, he would be able to grasp how people managed to pick up on hobbies and skills. It was like Mason and his love of reading, Corey and his talent with writing, and Liam spending his weekends playing lacrosse or working out. He just always finds himself perplexed at how they’d each figured out that what they were doing was good to them.

in the hospital after the war by snaeken (General | Complete | 1.5K) Tags: Summary: "I can wipe the blood off my own face, Liam," he snarks, mainly because he doesn't know what else to do; because it's comfortable, familiar, as far as the two of them are concerned. He doesn't pull away though. "I know. But I want to." Liam looks up at him, ocean blue eyes boring into his own. Theo's breath would probably catch, if he was breathing at all. "Let me." A Peek Inside: The hospital is, well. A bit like the aftermath of a warzone. Doctors and nurses and deputies everywhere, armed with handcuffs and body bags, making arrests and treating the wounded; Theo's own wolfsbane-laced bullet wound in his shoulder was treated by Deaton, while Liam regrouped with his pack and had his own wounds treated by Argent.

it’s you, sweet baby by axebastard (Teen | Complete | 1.9K) Tags: Pining, getting together Summary: In which Theo eats a s'more for the first time and Liam isn't quite as subtle as he'd like to be. A Peek Inside: Theo blinked, one corner of his mouth twitching. So Liam was inviting him somewhere. On purpose. He didn't know whether to feel honored or suspicious.

To Take One’s Pain by Endraking (Teen | Complete | 2.5K) Tags: Minor character death, angst, sick children Summary: Liam wanders the Hospital as he does a sweep. Memories come back to him about Theo since the chimera hadn't been seen since Gabe died and Monroe fled. While walking the halls, Liam learns something that will change his perspective about Theo. A Peek Inside: Liam walked the halls of Beacon Memorial Hospital.  It wasn't that long ago that it was a battleground and not a place for the sick and injured to heal.  Memories of those times, memories of hunters killing supernaturals, memories of the Riders, memories of the chimera and the Dread Doctors pull him to wander the halls.  He's not a patient though he would garner a little less attention if he put on one of the hospital gowns.  The lights were dimmed, something the hospital did either to save money or remind some of the more active patients that it was indeed nighttime.  He moved down one hall to the next, walking up the stairs and repeating the process until he makes it to the roof.  Then he hopped into the elevator and repeated.  He was making sweeps of the hospital, but it wasn't from any present issue but his worry over his stepfather.  Doing sweeps in the preserve was one thing but it was almost too easy for the pack to forget that things attack the hospital regularly and Melissa and Dr. Geyer were right in the line of fire.  That brought him to the halls, but his mind was a million miles away as he wandered to the morgue

i know all sorts of things i don't believe by eneiryu (Explicit | Complete | 80K) Tags: Post finale, Theo Raeken centric, getting together, pack dynamics Summary: So, anyway. That’s how Theo becomes pack-mom to Scott’s merry band of supernatural misfits. A Peek Inside: Scott gets this narrow-eyed look like he knows what Theo’s thinking, but humors him regardless, “I was hoping you’d agree to stay here, help protect the town.” (...) “Okay,” Theo blurts out, cutting him off before he can speak, suddenly irrationally afraid that Scott‘s going to take it back, say nevermind, forget it, “Just until you find Monroe, right?” Scott nods, still looking perturbed but thankfully silent, “Okay. I’ll stay until then.”

you want me to hold your hand and kiss it better? by xxDreamFilledEyesxx (Mature | Complete | 3.9K) Tags: angst and feels Summary: Set after the Teen Wolf series finale: After taking Gabe's pain away, Theo thought Liam might be glad to see that he cares, so why has he been acting so strange? A Peek Inside: A few feet away stood Melissa, her face covered in pity for the life the boy on the floor had lost in a war that wasn’t his to fight. Theo's heart skipped a beat as his gaze turned to the person standing next to her. Liam.

Sun Is Up, I’m A Mess by IThinkWeHaveAnEmergency (General | Complete | 5.1K) Tags: College, mutual pining Summary: Liam transfers to San Francisco State and on his first day, runs into a face he hasn't seen in a long time. A Peek Inside: Liam steps closer to the man he hasn't seen in almost two years, his campus security guard uniform clear.

A Chimera’s First Heart by Auddieliz09 (Mature | Complete | 22K) Tags: Mild smut, first kiss Summary: Theo wouldn’t go so far as to say that everything is perfect in the months after the War, but, for him, it’s just about as perfect as his life can get. However, when someone from his past shows up on Scott's doorstep, Theo's life takes a new turn. But will it be for better or worse? A Peek Inside: When they left the hospital that night, Liam had looked at him in a way he never had before. Like he was seeing Theo for the first time without his past hanging over him. He was seeing Theo for the man he was trying to become. A man worthy of being his friend, maybe more. Theo became an official ally to the pack and began to hang out with Liam and his friends.

five punch knock out by I_write_fanfiction_sometimes (Teen | Complete | 2.4K) Tags: 5+1 Summary: Five times Liam asked what he was doing, and one time the answer was 'being happy' A Peek Inside: Theo squeezes his eyes shut and barely holds back a groan. Mint foam drips into the sink from the handle of his toothbrush and burns around the edge of his mouth. Of course it had to be Liam. Fucking Mason wouldn’t ask questions, he’d just walk right back out. Somehow though, Liam has decided he wasn’t scary.

Change of Plans by never_love_a_wild_thing (Teen | Complete | 69K) Tags: Fake relationship, light angst Summary: When Hayden breaks up with Liam minutes before his very public proposal was planned, Theo steps up to save him the embarrassment of being rejected in front of the pack. In order not to disappoint their Alpha, Theo and Liam decide to carry on faking their relationship until they can think of a good way to end it and keep everybody happy. In which Theo is crushing hard and neither of them plan things out well enough (or at all, really). A Peek Inside: Theo opened his mouth and then shut it quickly. He had argued with Liam over Hayden too many times to think that it was worth it anymore. “I just think that you should maybe figure out how she feels about it before you go and ask her to marry you in front of your entire pack,” he said.

Only you can look at me the way you do by merrythoughts, ReallyMissCoffee (Explicit | Complete | 57K) Tags: Smut Summary: But Liam knows that tonight's gonna be one of the nights where he caves in and he doesn't care. A Peek Inside: They hadn't turned up anything so why not blow off some steam and then check back later? Scott'll never know the difference.

The Truth Will Set You Free by tabbytabbytabby (Teen | Complete | 1.6K) Tags: Light angst, misunderstandings Summary: Theo realizes he has feelings for Liam, but before he can tell him he sees Liam with a girl from his class and assumes they're dating, and that Liam could never be interested in him. He makes a decision to help himself find some peace, but first, he needs to tell Liam how he feels. Liam's response surprises him. A Peek Inside: A normal morning in mid-March, standing in the Geyer’s kitchen, watching as Liam tried and mostly failed at making pancakes. He’d stood there with pancake batter all over himself, looking sleep-rumpled and adorable and the thought just struck Theo so suddenly.

The Curse of Batman and Robin by songbvrd (No Rating | Complete | 10K) Tags: Bodyswap Summary: Liam and Theo are friends. Sort of. They live together and spend a lot of time together, but they also fight. Constantly. When a body swapping curse leaves them having to pretend to be each other, shenanigans ensue. A Peek Inside: It never lasted, because as annoyed as he was by Theo, he did also like him. He would never tell him that, god forbid the already painfully egotistical chimera get another boost on his account.

The Big Bad Chimera by OTP_fandom_shipper (Teen | Complete | 643) Tags: Fluff Summary: Theo falls asleep on Liam's shoulder, so he takes a picture. Needless to say, Theo is not very happy and wants it deleted. Que the "wrestling" session in the living room. A Peek Inside: Theo arrived back at Liam’s around 5:00. The beta’s family had been gracious enough to let Theo stay with them after they found out that he had been living in his truck. He did get a job not too long ago since he had graduated high school and wanted to make his own money. He was saving to get a place of his own. Theo didn’t want to stay too long with the Geyers.

Touch my neck and I’ll touch yours by voices_in_my_head (Mature | Complete | 7.3K) Tags: Pornstar Theo Summary: ""And you, Theo, what did you do during the week?" Scott asks, clearly trying to bring him into the conversation, which no one has done aside from Liam (they talked about the new The Good Place episode, because surprise surprise, Theo got addicted to Netflix once he found out what it was) and Corey (who actually seems to enjoy Theo's presence and Liam knows they've hanged out just the two of them. Which he obviously is not jealous about, pff, why would he be? Corey has a boyfriend. ... And Liam isn't interested in Theo that way, obviously.) Theo smirks before answering, to which Liam's heart does a slight jump, hoping that no one noticed or, if they did, will be kind enough to pretend otherwise. "I did a porno."" A Peek Inside: Liam isn't entirely sure how he feels about it. Theo seems to really have turned a new leaf, and Liam is pretty sure he would have died in the hospital if he hadn't been there, but he also can't forget the way he played them all, the way Liam almost killed Scott because of him.

[writingat-night]

tagged by my lovely mutual @tauremornalome in the first line game!

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). see if there are any patterns. choose your favourite opening line.

tagging: @plotdesigner @shuttymcshutfuck and anyone else who wants to! (feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged next time i do one of these writing tag games — i honestly just don’t know which of you write)

okay. so the thing about my writing is that i never fucking finish it, and a lot of my wips are just a jumble of unconnected scenes. technically, i have more than 20 (unfinished) stories, but i’ll only be posting the ones that a) actually Have A First Line, and b) i hope to finish at some point in the distant future.

1. blue seas to mulberry fields (the untamed, nhs-centric, the only half decent fic i’ve ever published)

Jin Guangyao is dead.

He’s dead, run through by Lan Xichen’s sword, crushed under a hundred tonnes of rubble and debris. He is gone.

Nie Huaisang knows this. He does. But one man’s death is nothing compared to a lifetime. Compared to years of shouting for Meng Yao when he needed help. Compared to years of calling him San-ge. Compared to a decade of planning revenge.

2. theon greyjoy and the horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day(s) (working title) (game of thrones/asoiaf, theon-centric)

Theon doesn’t know when, exactly, his status in Winterfell changes from prisoner to ward.

The first time he is a prisoner is during the Siege of Pyke. He isn’t a prisoner of Winterfell, not yet. But a prisoner is a prisoner is a prisoner all the same, regardless of if he’s locked in a cell or trapped in his own home.

3. take a chance, remake the world (game of thrones/asoiaf, starks-centric)

Two years, four months, and seventeen days after his coronation, King Brandon Stark, Bran the Broken, first of his name, wakes with a purpose. His first true purpose in a long time. He must go today.

4. your place in the family of things (game of thrones/asoiaf, sansa and theon-centric)

Sansa has always prided herself on her composure. When she was a child, she had spent hours in front of the mirror perfecting her curtsy and her posture and her politest smile. She always says please and thank you and she knows her manners better than any of her siblings ever did. She does all her homework and raises her hand in class when she knows the answer (which is almost always) and earns A-stars in almost every test. She never loses her temper or complains about her workload. Her parents spent a lot of time and money to get her and her sister into this school. She knows that, and she’s grateful for it.

She’s certainly not the kind of girl who breaks down sobbing over her French notes. And yet.

5. untitled whisper of the heart au (the untamed, sangcheng and nie bros-centric)

Nie Huaisang would like to say, for the record, that he has the worst brother in the world.

Objectively, he is aware that worse people exist. Meng Yao, for one. Jin Guangshan definitely makes the cut. Jin Zixun– well, Huaisang hasn’t talked to him since the time he punched him in the face in junior middle school, but he’s sure he’s still an asshole. Maybe Jins just suck, like, as a rule. (Excluding Zixuan. Except, actually, he is kind of a dick. He’s working on it, though, so Huaisang will cut him some slack.)

But as a brother? Mingjue is the worst.

6. bastards anonymous (working title, obviously) (game of thrones/asoiaf, baratheon bastards-centric)

Gendry should have known that Secret Santa with Arya was a bad idea. It’s their first time including her in the present-giving, and they were very clear about the five pound limit. Not a one of them earns above minimum wage, except Arya. She doesn’t have a job, but her allowance is more than Gendry gets paid in a month.

7. the todorokis gtfo (working title) (bnha, todorokis and hawks-centric)

Fuyumi is not a good daughter.

She is not like Shouto. She is not the prodigy, the golden child, the future hero. She doesn’t have a quirk so strong it nearly burnt down the house when it first manifested, a quirk so perfectly balanced that even his appearance reflects it. She doesn’t have a destiny laid out in front of her, ready to be followed like a gold-paved road.

She isn’t a bad child, either, she hopes. Not like Natsuo. They might both be the middle children, in a way (although she’s technically tied for eldest with Touya, she is six minutes younger than him), both the failures, both invisible, but she’s content with that. Natsuo isn’t. She tries to balance out his anger at their father, to get him to just keep his head down and do as he’s told, but the more time he spends with Touya, the more rebellious he becomes.

But, then, she supposes it makes sense, given his circumstances. After all, Fuyumi might not have the unbeatable quirk their father dreamed of, but at least she has one.

8. show me where my armour ends (bnha, dabihawks, because i refuse to let go of this ship and i hate canon)

If there’s a better end to a day of hero work than a shower hot enough to turn his skin as bright red as his wings, Hawks hasn’t found it yet. Being a hero might be hard, but it’s damn worth it for the feeling of washing away grit and blood under scalding water, if for nothing else. After the day he’s had, he’s more than earned it.

9. untitled modern au (game of thrones/asoiaf, theon and the starks centric)

For all that his children seem to believe otherwise, Ned Stark is not an idiot. He has five kids, a sixth on the way, and he has learned something about being a parent in the past eight years.

He is not fooled when Robb comes down for dinner five minutes early, smiling brightly, and says, “Hi, Daddy! Do you want me to set the table?”

Robb had stopped calling him and Cat Mummy and Daddy at the start of the school year, because no-one calls their parents that anymore, Dad, come on, I’m in Primary Four now. He only uses it now when he wants something. And he never offers to set the table.

10. houses out of cardboard boxes (voltron (i know, i know, i’m sorry), adashi)

Adam isn’t nervous, per se. Adam Wadekar doesn’t do nervous. It’s just that this is his first time at a new school since he started teaching, so he may be a little out of practise

(Also, he’s back in California for the first time in years, after vowing to never return. But, whatever. Not the point.)

11. untitled character study (pjo, will solace-centric)

As a rule, Will is nonviolent. Between a staunchly pacifist mom, a complete lack of athletic ability, and a pathological urge to please people, he doesn’t think he could hurt another person if he tried.

But when you walk into your kitchen to see a man with goat legs and two teenagers holding swords, all common sense sort of goes out the window.

hmm. i feel like all of them have a similar.... vibe, but i can’t pin down a pattern, per se. i tend to open with a fact about a character and then some kind of contradiction, a lot of the time. i think my favourites are probably blue seas to mulberry fields, your place in the family of things, the todorokis gtfo, and the will solace one. (mainly blue seas, though. i will fucking finish that fic if it Kills Me)

[where-all-the-time-went]

gah, screw it

[ID: A tumblr post from me, reading, “now is probably the time to write my 500-word essay on the politics of revolution of the daleks that gets 30 notes and is never seen again, which i return to in a month to find a lot of typos, otherwise no one will see it, isn’t it,,, “but i haven’t seen jack robertson’s first episode,,,”. End ID.] answer: yes, it is. but im gonna take a while to write this and look up a summary of arachnids in the uk (which i dont wanna watch because i heard its Not Good and you dont have to watch every episode of doctor who to be a fan, ok?) i sometimes talk about politics on tumblr, but rarely do i make political posts--mainly because, as my sidebar bio says, i’m a teenager. i don’t really have a degree in politics, and as much as i have been trying to read up on political stuff, its kinda hard when i dont have access to a college professor to guide me along. still, some things about this episode stood out to me, especially because it’s stuff i’ve noticed in a lot of media. i’m not even sure where i stand politically, but i absolutely love media commentary, and i have so many thoughts i feel like i never get to put out there when im watching movies and tv. obviously, spoilers under the cut (and it probably won’t actually be 500 words. probably.) i’m also gonna assume you’ve seen this episode, because i don’t wanna recap it. if you haven’t, go watch it! tbh, it’s well worth it (my favorite chibs era episode, just ahead of the haunting of villa diodati and demons of the punjab)

Now, um, obviously this episode is political. It’s the in-your-face without down-your-throat type of political we know and love. Still, media can be a direct allegory that wouldn’t bother the average viewer while still having politics that are good, bad, or somewhere in the middle (I mean this extremely subjectively). First, I’d like to address the elephant in the room:

While a Doctor Who festive special would normally film in the summer, this time the episode was filmed well ahead in winter 2019, over a year before it was due to be broadcast in a bid to include it within filming for series 12 (which aired from January to March) and give cast a longer break.

- The Radio Times

I’ve noticed some people pointing out that the episode references the protests that happened this summer. Honestly, I’d love it if that was the intention behind the episode, because then maybe Chris Chibnall’s team really does have a TARDIS, and we can all just time travel out of this mess.

[ID: An image from “Revolution of the Daleks.” A very sleek Dalek stands in front of police who have riot shields. The air is foggy, possibly gaseous. End ID.] However, the protests from this summer and the episode itself do not exist inside a bubble. Police brutality did not come into existence this summer, and it did not end with the autumn equinox. The episode, while featuring a small-scale protest that was eerily reminiscent of the large BLM protests this year, chooses to focus instead on one of the roots of the issue: somehow, capitalism.

I can’t say how purposeful the anti-capitalist messaging in the episode was. Obviously, Jack Robertson is meant to be an American capitalist caricature. Not to mention, Doctor Who is a family-friendly show: you can’t get too overt with what can be considered “radical” coding. Nonetheless, the episode tackles the connection between policing and money, and thus inherently comments on capitalism. 

The Dalek itself only exists to support the police force because Prime Minister Patterson knows that the idea of security will appeal to her constituency. Simultaneously, it could not exist if Robertson didn’t know just how profitable it would be. As they preach security, they create chaos. More importantly, the security they preach is one that bases itself on profit--similar to the weapons of the policeforce, and the prison industrial complex. As a result, the “security” inevitably fails.

[ID: Prime Minister Patterson, in a red coat, listens to Jack Robertson and Leo, in dark neutral-toned clothes both. They stand in front of a brick wall as they discuss the new Dalek plans. End ID.] Unfortunately, while the show presents a clear stance against money in policing, there is never any direct call to action. The political allegory may be straightforward and obvious, but the solution at the end is just to end the Daleks, and watch as Robertson announces his run for President (which, by the way, is very reminiscent of Trump, who does exist in-universe, so that’s weird). Regardless of all that, why am I even talking about this? Well, on the one hand, I love talking about these sorts of things. On the other hand, this post has started to sound like nothing but a rant with some pictures. Earlier, I said that this was something I noticed in a lot of media. For instance, I think of “The Boys,” with its obvious anti-capitalist and anti-military industrial complex messaging. At the same time, the show offers no solutions. Both are afraid of the obvious solution to capitalism: replacing it. To be clear, I say this as a person who is unsure about capitalism. I don’t know where I stand. Like I said, I’m a teenager. However, these shows can’t seem to make a decision either, when they're made by big companies with big budgets and professional adults. Politics in popular media tends to fit perfectly with the popular politics of the time, given that media must do so in order to make profit. Hence, similar to the media we consume, so many individuals seem to recognize that there’s something off with the hand money has in politics, and war, and security, yet no one seems to look for solutions.  Personally, I love talking about politics in the media, and analyzing media in general, because it’s the best way for me to communicate my internal thoughts. Meanwhile, I don’t even know my own internal thoughts. This post’s very existence is ironic. I had said in a very awful post that I wanted to write this when the tag was still trending, because I, in part, want someone else to do the thinking for me. I want people to see this and go, “well, okay, here’s where you’re wrong,” or, “here’s what we do about it.” Do I then have a responsibility to know what I’m talking about? Is the discourse all that matters? Does the media as a whole have to propel revolutionary ideas to get them into the social conscience, or can it just open up discussion?  There is, of course, irony in shows that could only exist in a capitalist world degrading aspects of that system. But no one, not even me, is exempt from the fact that these ideas do not exist in a bubble. The show’s protests look eerily familiar because, as this summer has proven, those protests are profitable (see literally every ad from companies that own sweatshops talking about how much they care about races they don’t represent in their board of directors). At the same time, I exist in that capitalist world, and my opinions have been formed via the capitalist media I was raised with. tl;dr: i know literally nothing. im sure of literally nothing. help, someone tell me about the politics of doctor who. wow, this was a really sad tl;dr, i normally make a shitty joke here. um, uh, EXTERMINATE