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gorochanfanclub · 4 years ago

Text

Sentiment

Majima x Unnamed Female Character

Summary: Majima and his girlfriend are watching a movie on the floor in their living room. When he reaches out to hold her, she is overcome with a feeling she can’t name.

Contains: fluff, a bit of angst (maybe), hinted depression, Majima being the secret softie he is

A/N: My first time writing a fic for Majima. Hope you guys like it! Wrote this with a specific person in mind (one of my OCs lmao) but left it purposefully extremely vague who the woman was so anyone reading this can imagine whatever they want. Comment below if you figure out what movie they’re watching!! It is indeed a real movie and I made sure to hint at it pretty hard lol, it’s one of my own personal favorites I think Majima actually would like. Also think it’s worth noting I wrote this entire thing while listening to 1984 by Junko Yagami on loop lmao. Was inspired by an edit on Instagram using this song. (edit was by eyeglassez on there)

She nearly had drifted off to sleep when it happened. The comfortable weight of him on top of her, his heat warming her, the feeling of his hannya patterned ink under her sleep heavy hand, even the low, humming voices on the TV illuminating the dark room, all threatened to carry her away to a land of peaceful dreams.

As she lay on the bedroll in the living room, the soft cotton sheets cradling her like an infant, her left hand rest on Majima’s shoulder blade, the other next to her face. His right hand rest under her head, beneath the plush pillow she placed it on. His other rest dangerously close to her right, fingers mere millimeters apart.

This wasn’t an uncommon position for the two to be in. She enjoyed his warmth, the cold of this world being soothed by his soft body heat. He reveled in the feeling of a body pressed to his, often coming up with the excuse, ‘fat tits like yers are better ‘n any pillow out there.’

She couldn’t even remember what was happening in the film Majima had insisted they watch together. It was a Hong Kong made film, one of those kung fu type movies Majima couldn’t seem to get enough of. Her eyelids get heavy as she tries to stay lucid enough to listen, knowing Majima would want to talk about it later, probably referencing lines from the movie for weeks to come.

Straining them open, she sees a little girl on the screen, getting harassed by a group of boys just a few years older than her. They tug at the rainbow lollipop in her hand, attempting to rip it from her small hands. Suddenly, another boy, much too small to fight even one of the bullies, comes running in her defense, leaving the group to abandon the girl and fight the young hero instead.

The screen then flashes to the same couple, grown adults now, yet the same hero and the same girl who never go to thank her savior. From a small box, the girl produces the swirly confectionary, handing it to the now adult man who had rescued her all those years ago.

She wasn’t sure what was going to happen next after that. Her drowsiness clouded her mind too much to even think about the intimacy of such a scene on the television.

Perhaps Majima had felt touched by the story that unfolded before him, or perhaps he just wanted more to feel. Gently, his fingers stretch to hers, lacing their hands together next to her head. His usually gloved thumb, now lying naked in an embrace with another hand, gracefully rubbed the back of her palm.

It was so soft, so feather light, she might not have noticed it had she been anyone else. Yet, she was her, and in an instant, all sleep that threatened to take her over was gone, full lucidity coming back to her as she nearly gasped.

She stayed as still as a statue, hoping Majima wouldn’t notice the change in her breathing. Luckily he didn’t, his eye stayed glued to the screen, mindlessly holding onto her as he continued his action.

Heart beating in her chest, she didn’t know how to react. He was being so… gentle. What did she do to be deserving of any of this kindness?

Her eyes dilate, losing focus of the television and staring at nothing in particular. She feels her mind wander, the feeling of his warm skin on hers flooding her thoughts, the voices on the screen just in front of her being replaced with his.

***

The night air breezed past them as they walked. It whipped through his bowl cut, blowing delicate strands into his one good eye, shielding it from her view.

She could watch him forever. He was like a piece of fine art to her; all rigid and strong with the softest curves on his face. The neon lights seemed to illuminate his skin, making it shine with a heavenly glow from within. The snakeskin leather on his shoulder glittered in the night, each scale gleaming in turn.

When he noticed her eyes boring holes into him, he turned his head with a smirk, “Ya keep staring like that, I got somethin’ on my face?”

His eye twinkled as he joked, the brown of it turning to blue, then green, then purple as the street passed him by, its light forming a colorful kaleidoscope on his features.

She was completely starstruck, the ability to form words long gone from her, her entire brain focused on taking him in. Her lips parted, trying to muster a response to his question, only awed breaths falling from them.

As he smiled back, chuckling at her silence, she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, warming her face in the cold. The blush on her skin made his heart swell, though she would never know that. His smile falls for a second, his typically harsh features softening as they walk side by side, eyes never leaving one another.

Not looking where she was going, her foot catches on something sticking up from the ground. She wasn’t sure what it could have been; perhaps it was an uneven paving stone, a discarded paper coffee cup, or even just her own clumsiness. Though, whatever it was, it had her falling to the ground fast.

Long before she could recognize what was happening to her, a warm, leather gloved hand was gripping her forearm, halting her descent to the concrete beneath her feet.

If she had been starstruck before, her head was spinning now, every nerve in her body feeling fuzzy in the proximity of the man looking down at her. At this angle, he looked ethereal, the moon above glowing on the back of his head like a halo. For just a moment, she felt he might sprout wings and fly her up to heaven.

Swallowing, she feels him pull her up, standing her flush against him. The open hem of her jacket tickled his chest, sending a fluttering inside him. They were so close, almost close enough to feel his heart beat against hers.

He scoffed cockily, his breath creating a misty cloud around him. When the fog cleared, he spoke, “Better watch where yer goin’, missy. Can’t have ya getting hurt on me, now can I?”

The tenderness in his tone said more than his words had. What he meant to say was, ‘Please be careful, I want you safe,’ but the meaning got lost in translation from heartbeat to Japanese.

Yet, she felt herself nodding, understanding perfectly what his original intention had been.

***

His stirring on her chest brought her to the present. Hopefully he wasn’t getting up, she needed him there, weighing her down, keeping her grounded while her thoughts were anywhere but this Earth.

Fortunately, Majima only sighs, his torso rising then falling under her still hand. He shifts slightly, his long legs moving against hers as he finds a new position atop her to lay. His head even shifts, hair rubbing against her chest, and nose gracing her night shirt.

Staying still became harder and harder the more Majima moved. Every muscle in her body wanted to both tense and melt at the same time. Her heart beat so loudly against her chest, she could hear it in her ears.

Looking down to the hand inside his, she bites her lip, trying to keep the quivering of it to a minimum. His grip on it tightens ever so slightly, and she is sure he knows she was staring at him. However, when she looks back to the screen, she sees fists flying and tensions rising, a sign that his grasp was only due to the suspense on screen.

At this she relaxes, feeling safe from his teasing for even just a moment. The last thing she wanted was for him to notice her nerves and have this moment end.

Rotating her head gently, she looks up. The darkness of the ceiling seemed to reflect on her, reminding her that that was life before Majima; dark, bleak, flat, and devoid of all color and warmth.

***

On days like these, she wanted nothing more than to just crawl up into a ball and fade away, her own existence crushing her like the heaviest burden there could be. It felt even hard to breathe, her lungs squeezing with sorrow.

Yet, she trugged the streets, walking to the place she had promised to meet him. He wasn’t one for planning things but today was an exception he had said. Nishida told her he was feeling ‘uncharacteristically structured.’ So despite her aching being, she marched to meet him.

He sat in the cafe, idly scrolling through his phone when she arrived. Meekly, she walked up to his table, feeling like being around him might be enough to soothe her soul.

It wasn’t until she sat down that he looked up. All it took was that one glance from his right eye to bring light to her vision. Like stepping out of a tunnel, he showered her in sunlight.

His lips turned up into a smile when he noticed her presence in front of him. He winked, shoving his phone into his pocket absentmindedly, right now, his only focus was on her. “Hey, darlin’,” he flirted, “it took ya long enough. Thought I might have t’ go lookin’ fer ya.”

She mustered the strongest grin she could, forcing all her energy into imitating him, hiding whatever pain lingered just beneath the surface. Her own face felt so heavy though, and even just that simple action hurt, exhausting her to the bone.

Even the most subtle change on her face was noticed by Majima. A lot of the time, she felt he could read her mind, see her soul. He always seemed to know what she was feeling, even when she didn’t know it herself.

Her whole life, people only ever bothered to take her at face value, none dared to look beyond her mask; until him. He seemed to be the only person who could feel her, see her, and hear her the way she so desperately wanted to be felt, seen, and heard.

Catching the pained expression she held, his smile fell, being replaced with one of almost shocking concern. “Wait, what’s wrong with ya? Ya look like half dead, sweetheart.” His brows furrowed as he studied her, eyes pushing back the veil to take a closer look.

She only shakes her head, looking down in embarrassment. She never wanted to make him worry, to take away that smile she loved seeing. The guilt of his emotion pressed on her.

He sighs, smacking the table with both gloved hands. “Well I can’t have ya sittin’ around all mopey like this,” he teases, sing song in his voice being exaggerated more than usual, like hands trying to lift her up.

“Let’s get outta here,” he gestures with a thumb over his back. He takes a look around, scrunching up his face, “This place is a dump anyway.”

He stands, looking down to her with soft eyes and a half smile. The sympathy in his features nearly broke her. He was so tender in the way he looked at her, trying to tell her ‘You’ll be okay, I’m right here,’ without speaking.

A black hand extends to her, fingers spread wide open, awaiting her to place her own inside it. Shaking with anticipation and anxiety, she gives the hand what it wants. Gently, his glove closes around her skin, leading her to follow him into the street.

Alone on the sidewalk and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears, his voice lowers, losing all semblance of its usual insincerity, “How about I treat you to some takoyaki? You like yours with extra sauce, don’t you?”

***

The loud music of the film’s end credits snap her from her thoughts. Glancing back to the television, she watches the white letters roll up on a black screen. The names of the actors and production team stare back at her, reminding her she hadn’t been paying attention.

As the music fades, and the credits finish out, the screen goes black, casting the room in a peaceful darkness. Only peaceful because he was here with her, shielding her from its harsh cold and uncertainty.

She feels him chuckle on her chest, muttering more to himself than her, “Shit, that was pretty damn good. Can’t believe that punk was some natural born kung fu master, never saw that one coming.”

With a sigh, he goes to unwrap his hand from hers and grab the remote to turn the TV off. He removes his arm from under her pillow to push off her and get up. Feeling his grasp on her hand loosen, she instinctively tightens her own, her other hand pushing his shoulder back down onto her chest.

Majima huffs, falling back onto her. Craning his head to try and look at her, he grumbles, “Jeez, lady, what’re you doin’?”

Her grip on him only tightens more, fingers digging into him, scared he might leave her grasp and disappear into the night. Not able to contain herself anymore, her muscles tense under him.

Her skin felt like it was on fire, every sensation of him on her burning hot with a feeling she couldn’t describe. Feeling her heart swelling to almost burst, she breathes deep, a stinging in her eyes becoming more and more prevalent.

She wasn’t sure what was happening to her, why all of the sudden she felt like a dam had broken inside her, emotion gushing through the cracks and drowning her on dry land.

Yet, of course he could tell. He always did. Squeezing her hand in his, he mutters to her, voice barely above a whisper. “You okay?” he asks tenderly, “I know it kinda got sappy there fer a minute but that ain’t no reason t’ cry.” Repeating his action from earlier, his thumb ghosts across her knuckles.

It could have been his physical touch or the way his words touched her soul but either way, that was the last crack in the dam. A sob erupted from her throat- hot, almost steamy tears cascading down her cheeks and onto the pillow.

She only grips him tighter, near to drawing blood with her nails on his back. Her head finds itself leaning against his silky black hair, cheek pressing firmly onto his skull. Nose buried in his dark locks, she chokes, tears still flowing like a waterfall, “I love you, Goro…”

The words fell from her lips like a prayer. Like it was the only important thing she would ever say. It felt like a confession, though the time for all that had long gone by.

In her moment of frail weakness, Majima is finally able to push off her, just enough to look her in the eye. Her vision of him was not as clear as usual, the water blurring him and barring her from seeking refuge in his eye. Had she not been crying, she would have seen the change in his face. It faded slowly from concern to ardor, plush lips pressing together.

Lifting his hand, he reaches it to touch her cheek, hot and wet from her overflow. Wiping some of the tears off her, he whispers, “I love you too, babe. More than ya know…”

Leaning in and capturing her lips on his, he seals his promise.

#majima goro x reader #goro majima x reader #majima x reader #goro majima #majima goro

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obsessivelyloved · 3 years ago

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post some ✨drafts✨

Here's some of my sfw drafts <3

_____________________________________________

Tom x reader fic I never finished:

“What are you talking about?” Tom asks with a scowl. “We’ve never broken up before.

******

Multiverse au:

In the entire time Edd has been in this universe, he’s only been outside once. At some point, when Tord thought he was too out of it to be able to use his powers, he escaped the room and booked it. He wasn’t discrete in the slightest since he was only focused on getting out so it didn’t take long for Tord to catch up to him.

The sky was so red. It looked straight out of a dystopian hell movie and even now Edd can’t get the sight out of his mind. He was also debating if he wanted to fly through any of that weird looking fog before a cuff was snapped onto his arm and Tord was pulling him back inside.

If Tord’s hands shook as he led Edd back to the room, Edd didn’t mention it. In fact, neither of them talked at all until they reached the room.

It wasn’t until they were both in and the room locked behind them that Tord said anything. His helmet snapped down to reveal his face and Edd cowered as he had only ever seen him that angry once.

* (Rewrite ⬇)

The sky here was different. The ground here was different. The wine red sky swirled with gray, and the hard, cold ground was all Edd had time to take in before arms grabbed his shoulders and yanked him back inside.

What he could only describe as stale air finally registered in his brain and he hunched over, coughing.

A hand quickly pat his back.

“Easy, kiddo. Take deep breaths with me.”

Logically, Edd knew this would be the person to grab him. He knew that no one else was quick enough to keep up with him or strong enough to yank him in like that. But it still didn’t stop his stomach from sinking at the anger in Tord’s voice.

Tord’s metal arm rubbed his back as Edd followed his lead. If Tord’s hand shook, Edd didn’t make any mention of it.

It didn’t take long for him to catch his breath but still, he couldn’t get the taste out of his mouth. It was disgusting.

“And that,” Tord began in a low voice. “Is why I didn’t want you going outside. Are you happy with yourself?”

*****

Three Leaders au:

"Wow, thought he was an adult," Tom comments as they go over the report. "We can't try a sixteen-year-old for treason."

"We can, it'd just be.... I dunno, wrong?" Matt rubs his chin. "What do you think, Tord?"

Tord stares down the report with an unreadable expression.

"This is a child," he says softly. "And so are many of the soldiers in his little rebellion. We almost killed children today. I...."

"Yep and now we have to figure out what to do with them, especially their ring leader."

"I'm serious, Tom."

"So am I.

*****

What I think is the dating sim idea i came up with and never did anything with lol:

This world was so much different from his. In many ways, it was better. But in an uncanny way. People didn't talk to him. Didn't even look at him. Any time the group or someone takes him into town, it's as if he doesn't exist.

None of the guys are concerned about this. When Edd brought it up, they just brushed it off.

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stevenbasic · 4 years ago

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Joyce Julep GITJ Chapter

Something special today, friends. A contribution from one of my favorite authors, maybe you've heard of her lol. Joyce Julep writes some of the best GTS/Size Fetish stuff around, and I'm so happy to have her as a co-conspirator. I've edited it a bit myself, just to make it work in the story a bit, and decided - to keep the flavor of her work consistent - not to do an image with this entry. Here's an intro, Part One of a two-parter from her.

Please consider supporting her at her Patreon

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Melissa and the Old Man, p1

The elderly man, in a rare moment of clarity, was taking special pride in his ability to wheel himself back towards the exam room. He’d left his wife in the waiting room, insisting he didn’t need her help this time, and was (albeit slowly) making his way down the hallway. The Indian medical assistant with the nice big fanny was in tow behind him; he refused to let her push.

“See??” the old man cackled, “I can do this mysel-“

Suddenly, with a jolting clomp, the left wheel of his chair locked up. His right wheel was still working, so he spun around in a haphazard circle, finally coming to a stop as he faced back towards the waiting room, back at Lakshmi....

“Mr. Kowalcyk, are you okay?” she asked, concern in her wide, brown eyes.

“Ah damn!” he sighed out in a feeble exclamation, and for a moment, it wasn’t lost on him that his momentary pride had been exposed as silly futility. But his dementia clouded most tangible reflections these days, and this thought quickly faded away into the fog in his brain. Mildly curious to fix this puzzle now, he looked down and set to work trying to unlock the wheel with his trembling, aged hands. Lakshmi looked on, helplessly, not knowing what to do. His chair seemed broken.

“Aw, what’ve we got here?” came a voice from behind and high above him, smooth and feminine. “Is this Mr. Kowalski, stuck in his wheelchair?”

The old man, best he could, craned his neck up and back to see. The new Office Manager, Melissa, was standing there, looming over him with her hand on her cocked hip, the voluptuous curves of her figure on full and statuesque display in her sweater dress of soft grey.

“Yeah, Melissa,” Lakshmi began to explain, “his chair’s kinda locked up…”

“Dammit!” he spat, pushing futilely on his wheel, confused and frustrated, shaking his head. “Dang thing doesn’t want to go!”

“Oh nooooo,” Melissa intoned, stepping around from behind him, bending forward at the waist so that her gorgeous face now hovered right in front of the old man. “And you were doing so well, getting to your appointment all by yourself,” she lauded, as if speaking to a child. She smiled at him, wrinkling her nose. “Do you remember me? Hm, Mr. Kowalsus? From last time? I helped get you a drink of water?”

“uhhhh…” the old man stammered, beguiled and baffled like any red-blooded male would be by the brightness of her smile, her perfect eyes, the huge mane of soft, raven hair.

“And your appointment today is with…Dr. J, right?” Melissa asked.

“Y-y-yes ma’m,” Mr. Kowalcyk managed in answer, gaze falling to the enormous breasts that were gently filling the space under Melissa’s shining visage. “I…uhm, mmmm. Exam room…exam room…”

“We were headed to Exam Room Three, Melissa,” Lakshmi offered, having stepped back, hands crossed in front of her. She felt more than a bit embarrassed for Mr. Kowalcyk, who was now openly staring at Melissa’s chest.

“Well I can’t rightly remember now, it’s...it’s...” he said, voice trailing off, mouth falling slack into a senile gape.

“That’s no problem, Mr. Kovameister,” giggled Melissa, shaking her head gently at him, as if unaware that her mammoth breasts swayed left and right with her movements, causing him to groan. “I know where to take you. Here, let me help...”

Without even asking, Melissa promptly extended her long, strong arms and scooped the old man straight out of his wheelchair. She didn’t even feel her muscles tense up as she lifted him up, and a moment later, she was standing straight up again, with him lying cradled in her arms like a baby.

Lakshmi looked on in incredulous shock as Melissa giggled, tickled pink by the man’s blankly bewildered expression. She even made a point of lightly tossing him up an inch or two out of her arms before he fell back into the firm plushness of her embrace again.

“Light as a feather!” she laughed, shaking her head down at him as her eyes flashed playfully. She nestled his head up close to her enormous left breast, which seemed to dwarf his little head by at least two times. The old man was blinking rapidly now, and his mouth opened a little without uttering a sound. He was utterly disoriented, and trying to figure out what was going on.

“Bet you haven’t been held like this since you were a little boy, huh?” teased Melissa, reaching a long finger down and booping him on the nose. “Way back all those years ago, when your mommy held you, haha.”

“My…my m-mommy..?” muttered Mr. Kowalcyk, his brow contorting strangely as he looked up at her. “My…”

“Mmmmm, yes, ok well let’s get you to your appointment!” chirped Melissa, and a few seconds later, she was walking towards the exam room where she knew Dr. J would be waiting. “I’ve got him from here, Lakshmi!” she called, over her shoulder, “Thank you!”

To that, Lakshmi shook her head and set to figuring out this wheelchair...

====================================================

Part 2 now available on my Patreon

#Growing Into the Job

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minghaocouture · 4 years ago

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Fearless: Chapter 14 + Epilogue

Pairing: Werewolf! Jeon Wonwoo x Vampire! Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Non-Idol AU WC: 2.5k+ Warning: Language, Mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, implied smut AU Lore: Vampire Coven Info/Wolf Pack Info/Lore Info Tag List: @moon-asia @uglychildd @skjdln @darkacrimson @woozisnoots @hwangjangmi @rjsmochii @fluffyhyeju @svtjuniverse @karmacqre @dwcljh @taeyeon-got-shmoney @2dmoonenback @moonchild9499

Unable to tag: @Unbaeknownst @peachescherryheart A/N: So first off, don’t judge that Wonwoo edit too harshly lol, it’s my first attempt at editing and with 0 knowledge of what i’m doing >.> also I honestly can’t believe this is the last chapter. I was going to make a last chapter and then an epilogue but it fit well at the end of this chap so I just made them into one <3. Thank you guys so much for supporting me and reading this story!

Chapter List: Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14

You weren’t sure how long you had been in this room. All you knew was that you were tired and hungry. Never before had the thirst been this strong, the feeling almost completely consumed your mind and you weren’t sure if it would ever go away. Cohesive thoughts seemed to escape you as your eyes stared out into the darkness of the room.

You were vaguely aware that you had been brought to the basement and that someone, you weren’t sure who, kept bringing you blood to drink, but everything else was a blur. The only thing you could recall was the limp form of Wonwoo on the ground and the feeling of the frenzy taking over you, a feeling that you couldn’t seem to shake. Being left completely in the dark about his status definitely wasn’t helping, for all you know...he did actually die that night. Yet you couldn’t even ask about him, the feeling of the frenzy seemed to always come back full force whenever someone else entered your room.

The sound of the heavy wooden door creaking open caught your attention, goosebumps pricking up on your flesh as you smelled the strong scent of fresh blood and felt a fresh wave of frenzy rush over you. It wasn’t different from when you were brought something to feed on, the blood this time smelt fresh as if it had just been spilt. The inability to control your actions, the pure primal instinct to feed or fight was all that you knew in that moment. You were on your feet in a second, dashing towards the new comer, and shoving them to the ground before they could even really enter the room. Your arms caging their head as you leaned down and attached your lips to their neck. There was no hesitation as you sunk your fangs into the supple skin and began to drink your fill.

Surprisingly there was no resistance from this new person, they didn’t try to push you away and their aura didn’t exude fear as they usually would. In fact, you felt an arm weakly wrap around your waist as you drained them of their precious blood. The feeling made you feel warm, and it was oddly familiar but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it could be.

“Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for, but they said you’d been really hungry.” The voice was familiar, but in your frenzy clouded mind it was so hard to think. Nothing stuck, not names, not faces, not voices. All you knew was food. The stranger let out a strangled chuckle, his hand rubbing gentle circles on the small of your back as he held you close. It was almost as if he was just...letting you drink your fill, letting you drain him as much as you needed without any kind of resistance.

As the fresh blood filled your system, it was almost as if your brain had been reset and everything was much too strong and too familiar now. Everything seemed to finally click once more as you came to your senses. Carefully yet quickly removing your fangs from your victim, you pushed yourself away just enough to be able to see his face.

He looked ragged, a large patch of gauze was carefully attached to the left side of his face and his hair was cut rather unevenly, most likely to make sure the wound of his face healed properly. His skin was almost an unhealthy clammy color and you were certain that you draining his blood had not helped him. He seemed to notice the look of recognition in your eyes and a small smile graced his face. Just from that one look the fog of your frenzy had completely vanished, as if it had never been there to begin with, and everything seemed to hit you all at once.

“Feeling better now?”

Unable to find your voice for a moment, you simply dropped yourself back down and wrapped your arms around him as best you could from this position. You heard a small wince from below you as you buried your face into his neck once more, only this time it wasn’t so that you could feed.

“You ass.” you muttered, doing your best to not accidentally hurt him again. “If you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill you myself you hear me.”

“Of course, can’t die to any hands but yours. But…” the arm around your waist gripped you ever so tightly. “I would appreciate it if you got off...or I might actually end up dying today.”

With a speed you felt was quick even for a Vampire, you were off of him and helping him up and into the room you had previously been in. Laying him down on one of the leather couches before quickly turning on the lights, wincing yourself this time as the light blinded you for a moment. It was now that you noticed the blood that had seeped through his shirt, right where his bullet wound had been.

“You actual idiot!” You exclaimed, searching around for the first aid kits that are kept in each of the feeding rooms. You would think in a room as minimalistic as this one, it would be easy to find. “What were you thinking coming here while you were still injured! Sure, werewolf blood is disgusting but that doesn’t mean that you won’t get attacked!”

“You sure…” you heard a small grunt, glancing over your shoulder you noticed him attempting to sit up as he spoke. “You sure didn’t mind my ‘disgusting werewolf blood’ a minute ago.”

You almost completely froze in your search as you realized, he was right. It wasn’t normal for the blood of a werewolf to taste as good as if it were a human’s blood. You vaguely wondered if that had to do with you...being his mate. There were a lot of questions to ask later, right now, making sure he survived the night was more of a priority.

That thought was enough to get you moving again, finally locating the first aid kit and rushing over to take care of the freshly opened wound. Grabbing his shoulder, you pushed him to lay back down as you slowly lifted his shirt up so that you could get to the wound.

“Did you actually just wake up and come straight here? Cause that would be stupid” Your tone was a bit harsh and contrasted with the gentle touch of your hands against his skin and you did your best to care for him. “Were you actually trying to get yourself killed, or something?”

“I mean, that’s pretty much what I did.” He explained, chuckling lightly as he thought about how much trouble he was going to be in once it was discovered that he was missing. “I was worried about you.”

His words caused you to tense, eyes focusing in on properly rebandaging his abdomen. It felt like a stone had sunk into your gut as you worked, thankfully he wasn’t bleeding to harshly but it was still enough to cause you to worry.

“Save some of that worry for yourself. I’m not the one currently bleeding out on a couch.” You retorted quickly, doing your best to ignore the piercing gaze of his eyes as they followed you. After carefully taping off the bandages, you began to pull away to clean up a bit, only to be stopped by his hand gently wrapping around your wrist.

Taking a small breath to steady yourself, you finally lifted your gaze and connected eyes with the injured male. You hated how it seemed like he could see through you, like you were just an open book before him. You hated it, but it also made you feel oddly calm. It was just the effect he seemed to have on you.

“I’d rather be bleeding out here with you, than at home with Mingyu.” The tone his voice carried was an amused one, obviously joking, but kept enough weight for you to understand that his words held some truth to them.

“You shouldn’t want to bleed out at all.” You couldn’t find it in you to pull away from him, your wrist practically on fire where he touched. The same fire that you always felt with the two of you touched. It made you almost feel like you were a regular human. It made you think back to the conversation the two of you had right before the battle, about being mates. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to think too hard on the subject, but after seeing him injured. You knew that you didn’t want to see him like that again. So after a moment of silence between the two of you, you let out a small sigh.

“I want...ugh fuck...” the exclamation left your lips with a sense of irritation, you weren’t used to expressing yourself so openly. This was going to be much harder to admit

“I don’t think I can do that right now, if I’m being honest.” Taken off guard by the sudden humor from the male, you quickly pulled your wrist away. You knew that if you were human that your cheeks would be heating up with the tell tale signs of a blush and you were fairly certain Wonwoo was aware of that as well, if his light laugh was anything to go by.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Keep going.” he urged. You could tell he was trying to hold back his laughter not just so you would continue but so that he wouldn’t reopen his wound once more.

Keeping your back to him, you crossed your arms over your chest and swallowed, hopefully swallowing your pride during the action so that you could continue with what you had been attempting to say. Your mouth felt dry and despite just having fed from Wonwoo, you felt impossibly hungry once again.

“I want to try this mate thing.” You refused to turn around and face him, but you kept your voice firm to show that you weren’t wavering on your decision. “I can’t say I love you, but I know I care about you. Seeing you...like that made every part of me hurt, and being away from you, well it sucked okay. Especially since I wasn’t sure if you were even alive or not.” Trying to recall that night, all you remembered was being pulled away from him so that his pack could get him medical attention and then...everything was blank after that. You could recall screams, and being restrained, and then feeding but nothing was solid. You weren’t even sure of how long it had been.

“Well I am,” You heard his voice break through your rapid thoughts, bringing you back to the moment and out of the memories of that night. Just the sound of his voice seemed to be like a life preserver that you could hold onto, to keep you above the waters of your frenzy that had held a grip over you. “I’m alive, not perfectly fine yet. But I’m not dead and I’m not going to die anytime soon.”

His words brought a comfort to your soul that you hadn’t been aware that you could feel, and a soft smile slid onto your face.

“Good, you better not. You’re not allowed to die until you look like your actual age.” You teased, finally turning back around to face him. You decided to push aside the darker thoughts that threatened to creep into your head. Letting yourself live in the moment, you had time. Not just to get to know Wonwoo but to possibly listen to the voice inside your head that was telling you that you couldn’t live without him anymore, and you were inclined to believe it. Not just because of the whole ‘mate’ thing, but because of how he had changed your life more in just a week than you had been able to change in almost a century. He was someone you wanted in your life now, and that was something you knew you had decided without the effects of the mate pull.

Taking a small bit of initiative, you bent down and gently pressed a kiss to the unbandaged side of his forehead.

“Get some rest Wonwoo.”

“Stay with me?”

***

November 7th, 2021

“Geez guys can’t you lock the door or something!!”

As the door slammed shut, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a loud awkward laugh.

“I promise I locked it.” Wonwoo muttered, his face flushed red with embarrassment as being caught in the act by his roommate. Unfortunately neither of you had a really private place to spend time together, so this wasn’t the first time that this had happened.

“Sure whatever you say wolf boy, I think you forgot again and just don’t wanna admit it,” You muttered, leaning down and pressing your lips firmly against his. Reveling in the feeling, kissing Wonwoo made you feel like you were floating. All of your nerve endings seemed to be set aflame when your lips met, which was probably why the two of you had been caught so many times. You just got so...lost in each other.

Pulling away you examined his face, the marred flesh around his left eye made him look reminiscent of a character in an old cartoon you had watched. His now heterochromic eyes watched you as you stared down at him, lifting a hand to gently press against the permanent scar left over from the incident at the beginning of the year. Not only was the scar a permanent reminder of what had almost happened, but his eyesight as well. Sure it hadn’t been smooth sailing since then but...you were grateful that he hadn’t gotten put in danger like that again.

“You’re staring again.” He muttered, his hand gently wrapped around the back of your neck before pulling you down into another kiss. It was his…’punishment’ for you, anytime he caught you staring for too long. It wasn’t much of a punishment but you sure weren’t going to tell him that. You loved his kisses. Honestly, you loved him but you decided it would be better to keep that information to yourself a little bit longer. You tried to pretend it was because you didn’t want to move too fast because of the Mate bond or whatever, but really you were still trying to get used to being vulnerable with others. It was something you struggled with, but Wonwoo knew this and was patient with you. He let you do things at your own pace.

Gently pulling away again, you rested your forehead against his own with a soft smile on your lips.

“God, I love you.” his voice so soft that for a moment you thought you had imagined it. You felt your stomach clench slightly, the tell tale apprehension settling in once again. Letting his words settle in the air, you felt his hand gently caress your neck. “You don’t have to say it too. But I do, I love you.”

You may not have been ready to say the words out loud, but you hoped that he understood that you returned the feelings. You pushed those emotions into every kiss, every embrace. He was your and you were his. It was a relationship that you hadn’t been expecting but it was one that you never wanted to lose.

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writing-the-end · 4 years ago

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LoL Chapter 36- Addows

(what’s this, a chapter on monday? Yes! Starting today and for the foreseeable future, LoL will now update mondays and fridays! Hopefuly it will gain more attention when it updates more often,,,)

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

If the hermits hope to enter the most dangerous place in Lairyon, they need to know about the Forest of Memories. Xisuma, Cub, and Joe venture to the haunted city of Addows in search of information.

____________________________________

Mist swirls around Xisuma, his vision obscured by the thick fog of the city. Old, ancient buildings are all around him, once a city of the ancient ones still alive with the people of Lairyon. Massive stone temples, graveyards for heroes and legends, buildings with no known purpose that now house creeds and clairvoyants.

Addows is a home of ghosts. Ghosts of the past, present in both tomes that the temples and libraries hold, and actual spirits that wander the eternally misty street. No one is spooked by the spooks, just another face in the crowd.

And it’s the perfect place for the hermits to dig up ancient knowledge. If anywhere would have information on the Forest of Memories, it would be the hallowed halls of Addows. Cub creeps closer to Xisuma, not quite sure if he likes not being able to see more than a few feet in front or behind him. He’s sure there’s some sort of proverb that Joe would spew at him about this and the past or whatever, but right now he doesn’t want to hear it. Joe, meanwhile, is loving this atmosphere. The spooky vibes, the aged buildings and haunting people. He could write entire novels about this place, how much it fits his aesthetic. He may just have to build a new library on Eremita to match this. Plus, his fuzzy cloak is comfortable and fits in well with the shadowed passersby.

The three hermits wander the streets, walking through the midday mist, watching as buildings appear from nothing and disappear once again. Joe gets distracted every once in awhile on a witch’s shop, books older than the kingdom, apothecaries with all kinds of rare materials, and about a dozen different colored candles. And lots of rocks. TFC would have a field day.

But after what feels like both hours and seconds of walking down the twisting streets of the ancient city, they finally arrive where they need to be. A building so old that the rain and forest has weathered it down, and a whole new layer of detritus has turned to dirt, ferns, trees, and vines growing down the massive stone pillars. In the weathered carving, the purpose of the ancient building remains the same. It’s a library, the largest in all the kingdom and filled with the most extensive, the most knowledgeable, and the most ancient of works. In languages long dead and unrevivable, written by ghost writers that now haunt these halls, and recounted by the living and the dead that wander the stacks.

“And a delightful young adult section with some of my favorite works for young readers.” Joe hums. “Anything, and I mean anything-” He pauses, letting Xisuma and Cub fill in what he means, “can be found in the national library of Addows.”

“That means if there’s anywhere that will tell us how to handle the Forest of Memories, or what could be hiding in there, it’s here.” Xisuma wanders down the stacks. All three hermits itch to reach out and pull books of their favorite genres or authors. Cub wants to dive into the deep end of the ancient ones history. Xisuma wants to study the great works of the best astronomers. And Joe wants to read the most mind boggling pieces that make absolutely no sense. He loves that feeling of being left confused about what he just read.

They search the tomes, from geography to history, history to science. They search every section- even the young adult section. Cub resorts to portaling around rather than running the worn stone stairs, but to no avail. In the end, all three of the hermits are sitting in an alcove of ferns and vines, staring out over the thick misted city.

“It wasn’t in anything. Has no one ever written about the Forest of Memories?” Xisuma grumbles, pulling off his mask. It’s not like there’s any sun, he doesn’t need his brother’s creation.

“Someone had to. It’s been around for eons and is nestled in the heart of Lairyon. I can think of so many epics that could rely solely upon those two aspects.” Joe speaks with his head on his hands, looking over the library. Where haven’t they checked? “I’m starting to think it’s not even real, just a bunch of folktales.”

Silence, until Cub’s eyes light up. “Folktales! Where do you put everything that you don’t know or understand?”

“In the trash bin?” Joe’s dry humor is not lost on Xisuma, but Cub is too excited.

“The folklore!” Cub summons his magic, a portal opening between the hermits, taking them to the very entrance of the library. The beginning of it all. He jumps through, skidding into a cracked pillar, but the stone is held fast by roots of the forest. Joe and Xisuma follow after, the portal collapsing behind them.

“Forest….forest...forest…” Cub whispers, running his fingers along books, scrolls, even just tablets of stone. “Forest, Evernight. Nope. Forest, Creation of. No…”

He stops, fingers coming to rest on a manuscript. Two wood planks pressing fabric pages together. It has no written title, but the front of the book is a tree with it’s branches intertwined like that of a brain. Cub grabs the manuscript, opening it with fervor. “Godsdamnit.”

“What’s wrong now?” Xisuma sighs, peering over the portal mage’s shoulder. But the symbols scrawled on the fabric are meaningless to them both. Not even Joe, who purveys in ancient and useless knowledge, has no ability to read the book.

“Ahh, The Journey to the Center of Lairyon’s Mind. A very good work. Quite dense.” All three hermits shriek, echoing in the quiet library as a misty head appears through the bookshelves. They should have been prepared for a ghost, but in the heat of the moment, they forgot they were in the most haunted city in the kingdom.

“H-have you read this? Can you r-read this language?” Joe holds the book out.

The ghost steps through the shelves, her hand becoming solid enough to hold up the piece. “It’s old kipling. Before they integrated into one oceanic script. Back in the early days, when Lairyon was just a bunch of warring nations. Ah, the oceans were so peaceful in comparison.”

“What does the author say? What does this mean?” Joe points at the fine print of a page that the kipling opened.

“It’s the dedication! It’s to me!” She laughs, ghostly fin ruffling with joy. “My wife was such a wonderful author, she is still curious to this day.”

Xisuma surges up to the ghost, no longer afraid. “The author, she’s still here? Where is she?”

“Why, I’m sure she’s moping around our gravestone, waiting for me to come back so she can tell me more stories that she picked up from the other ghosts.” The kipling ghost pauses. “Would you like to meet her, or rather just read through this dingy old book? Why not meet the real adventurer Cielle DuNord? Bravest woman ever, only person to enter the heart of the Forest of Memories and come back sane. At least...only recorded person.”

From the oldest library, the hermits follow the bouncing kipling down the street to the oldest cemetery. Sometimes they lose sight of her in the fog, her ghostly figure becoming a part of the mist and disappearing. But it just takes a laugh and a call from Lady Nellaime, her dress swaying like kelp in the waves, and they’re back on track. The misty glen opens to reveal ancient tombs and stones, but Nellaime waltzes through the historic graveyard as she would saunter through a flower garden.

Despite the spooky feeling, it’s not scary. The hermtis feel a sense of calm respect among the gates. Rare flowers bloom at the entrances of mausoleums, trees sprouting from burial mounds. Candles provide light along the well cared pathway, and a child runs by, smiling as he trips and hugs an ancestor’s gravestone.

From the mist, a glowing form appears, hugging the boy back. The ghost settles down in the grass, chatting with the family. Nellie continues past, deeper into the heart of the graveyard, seemingly bigger on the inside. The tombs age the deeper they walk, until Nellie stops at a raised crypt. Carved in the ancient coral stone, two smiling faces rest on their backs, the women’s hands intertwined at the center. Nellie skips onto the tombstone, knocking on the nose of the other kipling. “My sweet Cielle, you have visitors! More fans of yours!”

The eyes blink open, misty blue lashes fluttering. A noncorporeal form drifts from the stone crypt, dress flowing from existing to not, strong arms reaching over and hugging her wife. “You always make friends so fast. Living or dead, you just make people smile. Just like lighting up my life, my little ghost light.”

“Not in front of guests.” Nellie giggles, her fins fluttering from the sweet kiss.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of such…” Cielle looks the three up and down. “Unique visitors upon my grave?”

“Are you really the only person who has made it out of the Forest of Memories alive?” Xisuma wastes no time, which causes both ladies to titter.

“No, though I know Nellie here likes to be hyperbolic. Quite a few people have gone into the Forest without going crazy. But you have to be prepared to enter in.” Cielle leans forward, tugging a ghostly finger through Xisuma’s hair like a mother combing a child’s hair.

“Prepare? What kind of spells do we need? Weapons?” Cub flips through the pages of the book, but it’s in a completely unknown language to him.

“You can prepare yourself physically as long as you like, but it won’t do much. You have to prepare yourself mentally.” Cielle taps her head, and giggles. “See, for me, all I had to do was think about my fiancee back in Corelpi. I dunno how, but it was like a walk through a garden.”

“But there is one place that knows all about the Forest of Memories. Where the most people have entered and returned relatively sane.” Nellaime grins, a few locks of hair falling from her messy bun. Cielle reaches over and fixes the loose locks. “Fielville!”

“Of course,” Xisuma slaps his hand on his head, leaving a bright red mark on his skin. “Druids, insectia, the oldest traditions from the ancient ones are still practiced there.”

“The elder there has entered and exited the Forest of Memories more than even I have- but then again, she lives longer than me, which isn’t fair.” Cielle sits back. “But be warned- no matter how prepared you think you are for that wood, it will be nothing compared to the true might of the forest. You will return with whatever trove you are in search of-” She pauses. “Or you will not return at all.”

#hermitcraft #light of lairyon #lol #hermitcraft fanfic #hermitcraft au #wizard au #wizard hermits #wizard cub #wizard joe #wizard xisuma #cubfan135 #joehills #xisumavoid #xisuma

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tayyibesteatutorials · 4 years ago

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Of Herbs, Crowns and Soot

Decided to share this here ‘cuz my ccount got deleted lol thank you brain. Enjoy, friends. :D

During the 19th century London, Harry Potter falls down the chimney of one Severus Snape, bringing him with him dire inconviniences.

A Severitus and Snape study story, one without magic.

Chapter One - Down the Chimney Hole

Harry Potter was highly unusual in many ways. For one, he didn’t have to live in an orphanage, despite his parents being dead. For another, he really wanted to go to school, but he had to focus on earning his keep with the Dursleys: Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley. And he also happened to be a chimney sweep’s apprentice.

It was nearly dawn and Harry and his fellow climbing boys -and girl- were sleeping black. The cloth and sacks Master Edwin used to capture fallen soot draped over them, bodies shaking nonetheless from the cold seeping through the dirty cellar floor.

Harry untangled himself from the heap of bodies first. Treading with care as not to wake anyone up, feet unsteady. He shivered. Wrapping his jacket around him for warmth, eyeing his friends with their rising and falling bodies with a glint in his eyes. Tempting. So very tempting. But Master Edwin would come soon. Shrill voice jolting them awake and among the hustle, Harry would miss the opportunity to wash up, be late and suffer Edwin’s wrath.

What would Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia say when Master Edwin complained to them? Hurtling Harry back home and declaring him useless? Uncle Vernon wouldn’t take his small physique as an excuse and no doubt throw him out. Screaming that no sissy boy deserved to be housed under his roof.

He shuddered again, not cold, and when he was ready enough the lofty steps of Edwin’s boots echoed behind the door. A momentary fumbling of keys and the wood hurled open, smashing against the wall with enough force to wake the others.

And if that wasn’t enough to stir the heaviest of sleepers (namely Oliver), the ragged shouting certainly was.

“Wake up, ‘ye useless clotpoles!” Erwin boomed, snatching the blanket from over the boys. Draping the fabric and sacks over his soot-stained jacket while the five others withdrew with sharp flinches. Sleep induced and tripping over their feet in the result, they scurried off to the morning routine none were too pleased to share.

For once, Harry -almost thirteen and not showing it- watched. Sight a blur of shapes and shadow. Running wild like the thoughts in his mind. Another day. Another sun. And Harry Potter has woken once more to the void in his chest eating away the heart he prided himself to have. Oldest he might be, to these children… a brother that they didn’t have and the hope they would better be without… but the light from life was starting to dim for him after all. Oliver… Little Joe and the only girl, Marie-Lue... All lined beside him, ash and dark and clothes that were never meant to be theirs.

Another clench of his heart and Harry faced forward.

Edwin, scowling in the face Edwin, took them in with a grunt. Eyes narrowed. Searching for a toe out of line, as the thought bolted in their minds , “That all of you?” he asked, adjusting his cap.

Harry nodded, curtly, and only because the rest did not. Clenching his jaw hard enough to rattle his teeth, Harry allowed the man his petty fun of spitting at their feet. The hands clasped behind his back jarring his skin, drawing angry gashes over the ones already lining them.

"A'ight. Off with you all, then," Edwin said, banging his cane against the metal rails. Making small Marie, only six, flinch and duck her head. Launching for Harry's hand when Edwin marched up the steps, head ducking to get past the door when his hat almost fell off.

Despite himself, despite what he told everyone in the business, Harry squeezed back. Hard flesh against Marie's soft, innocent skin snagged by two weeks of labour. Tears already forming, trails against red skin. The disappointment Harry had to learn to leave behind as not to stagger. As to win. As to earn his keep.

As to earn the love that he now doubted he deserved to have.

London, on this summer morning, wore fresh fog. Cold fumes, dirty and from the mines and factories. The ones the adults assumed as progress and what the children assumed as early death. Harry squeezed again, against better logic. Meeting Oliver's eye -the second oldest- and shaking his head. Oliver raised a brow and turned back around. And left. Left him all alone. Fending for the girl, whimpering and weak when he wasn't anything more.

When the cart, a feverish clutter of dark shapes appeared, Harry tugged, pulling the girl closer. Eyes lifting from under the cap to eye Edwin, now smoking Edwin, and leant down to her ear.

"Marie," he whispered, sharp as winter snow, "You have to stop crying."

Marie sniffled, shaking her head. She lifted an arm, wiped her eyes. Fast and fuming, though not scared, "I want to go home. To mummy and daddy."

Mummy and daddy. The words winked from the corners of nightmarish nights. Glinting in the stars that sang of them, rose for others. Harry risked another look. This time Oliver nodded in his stead and Harry sighed. When he stopped walking, Mary slammed against his back.

Her fingers lifted. Cradling the bridge of her nose, now tutted red and glanced up. Slow and trembling. The wind sweeping loose strands of black, once blond and no more the silk it used to be. Harry’s hair wasn’t much the same. Reddish-black now soothed dark and rough under the cap.

Harry lifted a single finger to his lips, light brown and not from the soot, "We have to stop crying. Alright, Marie? Your-" he bit on his lips, blinking hard, "Your Mummy and Daddy aren't here... yet. So you must- you have to... you should be strong, yeah? You're a strong girl. Mummy and Daddy want little girls to be strong because everyone loves strong little girls," he whispered, standing up and tugging on her hand, walking faster to keep up.

Marie-Lue sniffed. Wiping the soiled tears from her eyes -brown, doe eyes- and looked up when they stood in line to get on the carriage, "Will Mummy and Daddy love me when I'm strong?"

Harry stared. Stared until Edwin was behind him. A hand smacking down on his neck, ripping off his cap and barking at his face. Smoke and spit coiled around Harry's nose. Taking most of the willpower Harry had to not scrunch.

He bent down for his cap. Thanking Marie-Lue by lifting her into the carriage for finding it, he jumped on. He took the seat at the very end for his tardiness and Marie-Lue cuddled to his side, rubbing her head against his chest. The others watched. Harry watched them back. Little Joe and Oliver... David and Rory and Harry number two (or as they called him Mums, since he never talked), all small and searching. All learnt of affection here, or the lack thereof. Not to look for it. Not to search for it. Keep the yearning inside you, where it won't come to harm you.

And still, yearn you would.

The carriage jolted. The children jolted with it. The driver's whips sliced the air, earning a shrill whine from the 'beast' that didn't look like it could pull anything but its own weight.

"Harry," Marie whispered, only six and so small, "Will they come back for me if I'm strong?"

A family walked in his mind. Happy and laughing. A woman wearing dark blue robes and a man wearing a suit, smart and something Harry saw behind the glass one freezing Christmas two years back. Getting a shaky look before the tailor chased him out, screaming about how Harry would scare off customers. He only found him because Harry had left his soot in the snow. Betraying him in the ally where he lied, frozen and beaten with blood in his teeth.

Bad Christmas. But he'd seen his parents there and begged to join them. In his mind, his mother black-haired and kind-eyed. His father red-haired and green-eyed and only because he once saw a heard of red-heads and their own father in town. Poor, not well off but happy all the same. Happy. And Harry would doubt Aunt Petunia in these instances. How poverty, while making those five children happy, made Harry Potter's parents leave him on his Aunt's doorstep one summer night.

One summer night almost twelve years ago, and even now Aunt Petunia refused to say anymore.

And Harry wouldn't either.

He cleared his throat. The girl, only a girl, looked up and returned Harry's smile, though it didn't resemble the grimace on Harry's face, "We'll pray for it."

"Every night?"

"Every night."

"Will you teach me?"

Harry paused and looked up. Oliver regarded him with narrow eyes and crossed brows. The look Harry had become better at ignoring over the years.

And ignore he did.

"I will. I promise. We'll pray... we'll pray for a family."

Marie nodded. Harder than necessary and held up a curled pinky finger, "And for food. Yummy food, like in the big town."

Harry opened his mouth. David, eight years old, talked instead, "And clothes."

Rory, ten and a half, "And a warm house!"

Mums, who communicated with hands alone, clasped his hands and faked sleep, winking at them when the rest fell into soft laughter.

Well, most of them anyway. Little Joe joined in, despite not having said anything but Oliver stood stern. Cocking his head when Edwin -bastard Edwin- twisted his neck with nasty threats of no dinner. Took Harry and Marie-Lue with a look that promised far more and turned back to the front with a grunt.

Harry heard the curse. But smiled at Marie. Only Marie. Taking her finger with his own and shook, a deal well made. An oath well earned, "I promise, Marie."

And Marie grinned with hope Harry had lost. She hugged with strong arms. Warm and still alive, and her breath fell soft and steady while Harry watched her closed eyes. Tufting a strand away from her face, Harry leaned back on the wood. Pulling his jacket tighter around himself, against the summer wind that sang of winter. Of sleep. Of today.

The today masked by tall, grey buildings that swam in hasty shapes. Tall and beautiful and alive. Parents and children and families that were warm and not some wind to jolt them out of a dream that wasn't real. Just them, and warm fires and someone's presence to look forward to. Despite the cold. Despite the fog. And no matter what London or England could be, a family it would stay.

He frowned.

And then Harry prayed.

London, for all it's worth, was less grime and more stares. And climbing down from the carriage in an unfamiliar neighbourhood was always foreign and strange. Edwin called them all identical. So did Harry, with the shapes and colours so familiar in his eyes that he needed someone to tell him which house was which when Edwin wasn't looking.

Taking one large sheet over his shoulder, Edwin turned to the street. Cupping a hand over his mouth and shouting with a voice no longer raspy, "Soot- Oh, Sweep!" over and over until there were at least two people peekeing through their blinds, their curtains closing just as quick when they caught sight of them.

Edwin clearly didn't mind being at the receiving end of the glares from the residence. Or he was good at hiding it. Or that these particular glares weren't as bad, seeing as most the buildings here belonged to tradesmen and shopkeepers, judging by the signs that lined over the brick architecture.

"A'ight," Edwin turned to the line of children. Dropping a pale sheet over each of their arms, he swept a look over each of them as he passed, the only black eye on his face seizing up Harry when he stopped in front of him, "You come with me."

And with a sharp jab to his chest, Harry followed. Not sparing a glance behind him, Harry squared shoulders. Throwing the worn sheet over his shoulder and stuttering to the sidewalk.

Harry's feet shuffled on the cobblestone. Cold, due to the holes in the soles and the socks that thinned to strings. Edwin didn't look behind him. Grumbling now and again to a passerby, complaining about their dress or shoes or the riches they most likely possessed and Harry was once again reminded of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. They too took great pleasure in gossip and complaint, sneering at anyone who looked to be better off them in any detail. Gloating over the souls that were unfortunate enough to have the little they didn't. Though, Harry couldn't call their assets little. With their servant and three large bedrooms and the kitchen that never seemed to lack food, they certainly weren't poor. And taking in Harry at a young age and keeping him in the cupboard under the stairs and rarely feeding him could hardly diminish their wealth. Especially when Dudley's birthday gifts showed a visible accumulation over the years.

Harry, called back from his daydream by bumping against Edwin's back, looked up. Ducking his head at Edwin's scowl, he shuffled his weight from one foot to the other. Nodding when Edwin barked at him to wait outside. His ears pricking at the sound of the bell, though his eyes did not falter from the cracked stone on the ground. Interesting stone it was. Grey, dark and not ugly like Edwin. Harry leaned against the glass, crunching the pebbles with his toes.

His breath swirled in a white mist over his mouth and nose. Unsteady. Breaking. And his fascination lasted the three minutes Edwin spent inside before he was dragged in. Arm burning even after Edwin let go.

The shop, in question, was warm. Not the uncomfortable warm that lasted two rare days of summer. Or the chimneys he climbed with their suffocating heat. No, this warmth was tender. This warmth smelled sharp of herbs and teas and flowers he didn't know. Of medicines terrible and strange that reminded him of... well, he wasn't sure.

But it smelled of home.

Either way, Harry made sure to keep his head down. Made sure that his eyes, green and not to everyone's liking hid behind his cap. Stay out of sight. If you can't, stay silent. Be the next best thing and keep still. Mummys and Daddys only like quiet, obedient kids, don't you know Potter? Not some scrawny dark-skinned boy with knobbly knees. Harry nodded, reluctant. But the voice in his head disappeared all the same. Leaving behind a chuckle and a slap on his neck.

Harry sputtered. And then met the eyes of the client.

Black, piercing, angry. Dressed all in black and a not someone Harry would like to meet on a midnight traverse. And though Harry's eyes dropped the black shirt, the man's did not. Continuing to listen to Edwin with his eyes not lingering.

"We settled on the price, then?"

"I suppose it's an adequate amount, in return for your, ah deliverance," the man said, smooth but snide, and Harry's head lifted in surprise. Breath jerking because the man was still looking and it wasn't what Harry would consider in his favour.

A moment of silence. Then, "This way, please. I had the chimney in the shop swept not a while ago. The same cannot be said for the one in my personal quarters and laboratory," and he led them around the brown oak counter to a door behind a shelf of jars and glass bottles. Opening the door that led a flight of stairs, shadow drawn and narrowed between two black walls.

Edwin cleared his throat, making the man turn around. His shoulder-length black hair falling curtain around his face,

"Eh, Mr Snape-"

"Professor Snape,"

Edwin clenched his fist, "Of course. Professor Snape. Do you want another worker for the second chimney, or would this lad be of use?"

For Professor Snape, the question must not have been an easy one. His brows knitted closer and the lean form hunched forward, long arms crossing over his chest.

And then the Professor did something that made Harry stagger down a step.

He kneeled to his height. Taking the arm that wasn't holding the brush and sheet. And with a touch that should not have been gentle, squeezed.

It was in no way familial. Nor parental and no matter how much the scent of the shop swirled the man, Harry told himself it wasn’t home.

He wasn’t home. But now, with his dark eyes soot-black and searching, Harry’s breath did hitch and his heart fell into an unsteady run. Fast, uneven and to his dismay, something the professor noticed. How he knew, Harry couldn’t say. But after that bony finger slithered to his wrist and pressed down, the professor knew.

The arched brow complemented his features. With those sharp and high cheekbones, and the lingering suspicion that the professor wasn’t just a professor bothered Harry. Not much, but enough to take another step back before he was cornered by Edwin. Snatching his wrist back, Harry rubbed the skin and faced away.

Professor Snape, quick to let go and quicker in gaining back his decorum, stood up. He clasped his hands behind him, and with a look positively bored, faced Edwin, “He will suffice, assuming that your...climbing boys clean more than a chimney per day.”

“Oh, yes. Mark me words, five and six if their luck. The economy as it is… Need some income, you know, not that you yourself-”

Professor Snape held out a hand. And Harry allowed himself to grin under his cap at the way Edwin’s face morphed into surprise and then rage.

“Yes yes. Very drastic. God bless the Queen. Now,” he then turned, resuming the rest of the climb, “If you’d follow me?”

They complied. But the sneer that pulled on Edwin’s lips couldn’t mean he was pleased. Harry could almost read the man’s mind, after spending four years with the man. Something between a scoff and a chuckle sounding from his lips when Edwin’s voice echoed in his mind. Complaining in a rigid voice, stomping over and over his mechanical brush while cursing at every professor that came to be.

He hid it, of course. Behind a cough and a grin bit back, just in time for Professor Snape to open the door (oak and dark) on the landing, giving way a large living area.

And it was nothing like Harry imagined.

A dark shadow followed Professor Snape. In the corner, in his heart. A shadow that sneered and scowled and growled like a beast and Harry assumed... well, it wasn't right to make assumptions. No. But with the warm chocolate walls, wooden tiles beneath multiple dark green carpets and furniture that was welcoming more than menacing, Harry could admit that his taste wasn't half bad. Sure, the space was small. With a chimney in the corner below layers of shelves and a long couch and single armchair, there wasn't much area left to the circular dining table and two chairs, as well as the kitchen area lining the opposite wall. All warm and colours of dull brown and green. Not wild, not snark but some comfort to his eyes nonetheless.

"You have a nice house," Harry said, soft, certain. Then immediately clamped a hand over his mouth when the man's head whirled around. Making dear Harry pinch the inside of his palm and avert his eyes.

A slap on the back of the head was Edwin's -cruel and disgusting Edwin's- response. Along with a hiss in the ear to behave while he apologised to the Professor, hands clasped together in apology, back bent.

Disgusting. And people thought the kid's kissed up to others.

Professor Snape waved a dismissed hand, one hand still behind his back, "I do not mind. Now, I'm a rather busy man. Hence I ask you to be quick about it, Mr Edwin."

"Yes yes. Of course," Edwin said, honeyed. Grabbing Harry around the cuff the next second and dragging him across the parlour to the well-furnished chimney. He kneeled down to his knees, bones groaning in protest. Grabbing hold of the metal long holder and removing it from the hearth. Then, he lifted up a hand and Harry passed him the white cloth. All the while the Professor sat in his armchair.

And watched.

Harry wasn't about to return the gesture. So while Professor Snape watched Edwin lay the cloth over the hearth, Harry watched the ornaments that lined over the mantelpiece. A few viles, dried flowers, a portrait of a young Professor Snape and a woman, and an antique table clock.

Edwin's voice rose him, and Harry was once more pushed forward. Stumbling and finding his support on the brick fireplace.

Professor Snape watched.

Professor Snape didn't say a word.

"Eh," Edwin cleared his throat, "Will you be here, Professor Snape?"

"Why yes. I find it impractical to leave children unsupervised, considerably so when dealing with... hazardous tasks."

"I's keeping 'em supervised, Professor."

Professor Snape's arched brow was nothing short of humiliating. Seizing Edwin in a mock question and doubt, "Whatever for?"

"...You're keeping him under lock and-"

Professor Snape held out a hand and Harry indulged himself in another grin at the pale-faced Edwin. Almost liking the man who was now crossing his slender legs, pants pulling high enough to share a glimpse of his black socks, "I shall endeavour to be abundantly clear. I am keeping the boy under supervision so I keep up my honour as a responsible man with proper moral. You, Mr Edwin, have a charge of children needing to be taken care of, to my precise knowledge, and no time to waste. The boy will do fine, and my chimney is in no rush."

"We always keep on the lookout, Professor Snape. We-"

"Are not in a shop your opinions are favoured, as I have made clear to every single sweeper to cross into my quarters. The boy alone, please. You may collect him in, hmm, on your way back from a neighbourhood that hasn't been cleaned just yesterday by another hoard of children."

These things happen, Harry told himself. Running a hand down the shelf, brows disappearing in his blob of hair when his finger came back dust-free. Some others were quicker. Sweeping the neighbourhood clean and making them search for another. Making the children grin while Edwin got scolded by the tenants of the houses. But never was it as fun as this.

"Whatever... whatever shall the boy do, when done with 'em both?"

Professor Snape rolled his eyes, "Ensnare me, Mr Edwin. Actually, no. Rather not. But I imagine that in an apothecary, there is enough work to humour a senile child. I am a busy man and having some additional aid would be much appreciated. Of course," he added, looking right into Edwin's eyes, a smirk twisting his lips, "You'll receive the payment necessary."

In a twist of fate called 'money', Edwin's crooked back straightened and Harry didn't even have the time to be offended at the word 'senile' before a nasty crack came from his spine, making Harry wince and Professor Snape's mouth twitch. Black eyes glaring at Edwin's hand, which was shaking the Professor's vigorously.

“That’s a deal if I’ve ever seen one,” Edwin said with a toothless grin and only Harry noticed the Professor wiping his hand on a handkerchief after he stood up and led them both to the door. But Edwin turned around just before disappearing. Back arched and on his toes to peek above the Professor's shoulder, a finger jabbing the air rather sharply.

“An’ don’ forget to buff it, boy!”

A muscle twitched near Harry’s eye. And when the door closed, masking the last of their ceasing steps, Harry rolled his eyes. Most adults in his life treated him in the same sense as the Dursleys and Edwin. Stupid, ignorant, arrogant, nuisance, burden… And a couple more which were less mundane. But stating the obvious to his face always got Harry’s blood pumping the worst of ways and anger was never slow to follow.

So when a cough from behind him interrupted him from striping from his pants, anger and surprise found themselves equally alive.

Professor Snape, already by the door, had his arms crossed. Scowl still in his face, though less at ease snapped, “What are you doing?” eyeing Harry's hands.

Harry frowned, “Buffing it, sir?”

“What?”

“It’s to go in nude, Professor,” Harry explained, patiently, like he supposed the Professor did at school. But when the scowl deepened, he grinned. Likely not, “It’s easier to clean that way. Less likely to get stuck.”

Professor Snape hummed while Harry got rid of the remainder of his clothes. Now a nasty pile beside the heath, Harry greeted the man with a mock salute before entering the hearth, heart already thumping wild. This was fine. He’d done this before. For years, since the day Uncle Vernon finally kicked him out of the house and Annabeth helped him pack his bag, tears in both their eyes, he’d done this before. No need to throw a tantrum now at the sight of the dark, narrow chute that could mean a possible death with a single wrong movement.

No need at all.

So Harry breathed. Readied himself by pulling up by the walls and climbed. Using his arms and legs, he hoisted himself up. His brush ridding the flue line of the black soot. Keeping his head down as to breath as little as the poisonous material into his lunges, body moving much like a caterpillar up the line.

Little help that did, Harry sneered. Over the years he’d spent, climbing chimney after chimney, always panic and little fun, the soot would get to him sooner or later. Suffocating him in an alleyway where nobody cared.

Little left to take his mind off things, Marie-Lue smiled at him in the darkness and their clasped fingers were close behind.

And then, Harry prayed.

Prayed for love. Prayed for a family.

Prayed for a mother and a father and wouldn’t a brother just be perfect? A little family away from the world, away from the soot that would care not because they had to because Harry was Harry and that was all he had to be.

Under the cap, no one heard him cry.

That was a harsh reality to live and when his head shot through the chute, another day alive, the wind bit at his cheeks and burned his lungs clean.

A harsh reality. An unfair life but Harry was always complaining, wasn’t he? And adults complained about their complaining and loved to remind them life wasn’t a silver platter and he would have to live his way through it.

There’s always a fine line between living and surviving.

Adults told him to live. Live in the only way he could: Survive.

Harry wanted to live, as the sun dawned upon the roofs. Silver and pale but nothing short of a sight when the bricks and steel glinted in the light of a new day. Harry wanted to live as he slipped back down, having enough of the London city tops starting to bustle with life.

Wanted to live when he was falling fast. Faster than he should have. Wanted to live when he regained his hold to cushion his fall, still fast but not fast enough to die.

Even when the Professor's face, wild with concern, danced in his view before finally, he closed his eyes.

Black as soot.

Peaceful as the night.

#severitus #severus snape #harry potter #fanfic #prosnape #snapedom #of herbs crowns and soot #my writing

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szopenhauer · 5 years ago

Text

About my gf - survey

How did you meet?

I was going to school with one of her best friends, we went to a concert together, we lost contact for 10 years and this April we started to talk all over again

How did they ask you to be their?

it’s a complicated/long story

Your first kiss.

I kinda blacked out (been on strong meds) and kissed her while we were sitting on a coach in her apartment, holding hands, I put my face in her hair and told her I love her then... I tried to leave the apartment asap, immediately, run! XD but she said I was good and today I wasn’t that good - lame of me I forgot how to do that

Favorite gift they gave you.

she gave me her photo, a cat necklace and a stuffed unicorn that is our daughter - she called it Tęcza/Rainbow

Nicknames for one another.

I call her - sunshine/słońce, mom, cat/kot/kocik, kochanie and by her name of course

she calls me using various versions of my first name, skarbie/skarbek, daddy, tatuśku, top, beeb

*I’m also her natural contraception

What do you think of their family? What does his/her family think of you?

I think our dads are ok with us, her mom is dead now but she didn’t like me I guess? and my mom just found out - not sure what she’s thinking

Inside joke?

many - I might list them sometime unless she wants to

Ten things you like about them.

she knows me so well like she looked into my soul or smth which is weird because she doesn’t know me that long and yet she understands me more than most of the people in my entire life ever did and she seem to accept me for who I am and even actually love me for my crappy self - both body and personality, I’m very ill and could hurt her - she still sticks with me through and through! she even written a story about me and didn’t forget me for ages and it feels like we actually didn’t skip those last 10 years but been there somewhere in each other’s lives because she’s like one of those old friends who were and are always there, you know? she remembers what I like and what I said, she always finds time for me, I just don’t know what she sees in me...

her jokes, I love to laugh with her, time flies when I’m with her, makes me smile, she’s a lot of fun but not the kind of fun I prefer to avoid hahaha

apparently her touch, her touching me which is something new, a whole new experience because I don’t like to touch or be touched by anybody but I crave her somehow even tho I like my space/time alone, she was my first kiss, she doesn’t seem to bother me or tire me much, I think about her almost at all times (especially when I feel worse), she’s patient with me and I try to be the same towards her

similar opinions, some interests that we share

we complete each other, we’re not too different but not too identical, we’re just a pretty good match, we care for each other, worry about each other, help each other, support each other, she keeps me alive

we don’t argue, we talk, we explain, our primary love language is words of affirmation and I feel like I can open up to her, I can trust her with most things and I hope she can say the same thing about me ha! she’s being herself, she’s not pretending to be someone else, she’s bold, honest, imperfect which makes her more human/real and that makes me comfy to be around

those weird coincidences that happen often like signs that we should be together - I mean - maybe it’s not part of her but part of the universe but it's definitely ABOUT her

her hair

her butt

she’s cute XD

Your song. t.a.t.u. - All the things she said

How often do you see each other?

as for covid and her working and me being an introvert? often lol

What about her friends? What do they have to say about you?

ask THEM

Things you both have in common.

our parents have the same names (our fathers are from the same town), we were born the same year, we like 80s music, we have similar humor, we finish each other sentences/often have similar idea at the same time, we both lost a sibling and both have one older sibling that is still alive and we’re both black sheeps of our families lmfao, we both have health problems, we both had similar experiences when it comes to finding/accepting our sexual orientation

Biggest differences between you two.

she’s more an optimist while I’m a pessimist, she wears black clothes all the time tho and I am colorful and childish when it comes to my outfits, she hates yellow and green which are my fav colors, she’s a cat person and I��m a dog person, she’s an extravert and I’m an introvert, she works and I’m unemployed, she prefers boobs while I prefer butts, she’s tall and I’m short, she has long hair and I have short, she wears glasses and I don’t, she likes food I hate/am allergic to, she drinks and I don’t, she’s a musician and knows lots about technology

What you imagine your future with him/her to be. I’m fine with what we have now, we’ll see

A movie that is special to your relationship. some movies and shows remind me of her if that counts

What you two do together? mostly chat, joke, flirt, touch, walk around...

How long have you been together?

not long

Describe meeting his/her family. I thought her mom poisoned me so...

How well do I know her:

Their birthday - March *checks fb* 25th :x

Their astrological sign - Aries

Their middle name - they don’t have a middle name

The names of their parents - same as mine XD

The names of their sibling(s), if they have any - crap I forgot her brother’s name... ok now I checked, sorry lol

The names of their current pet(s), if they have any - *crickets, brain fog*

their name is Cat/Kot and I can’t believe I mixed it with cats of her grandma

*facepalm*

Their all-time favorite animated movie - I know she likes Minions and Shrek

The last TV show they binge-watched - some sort of anime for sure

Their biggest celebrity crush - no idea, I know she likes some korean guys but... she’s a lesbian so...

Their favorite swear word - chuj

Their go-to karaoke song - Evanescence - Bring me to life

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prplzorua · 6 years ago

Text

Sleep it Off

I've got a helluva head cold, so instead of y'know sleeping, I decided, why not write a sick fic with Remy? With the premise my fogged mind decided to give me. "Like what if he tries to hide it at first but then it gets worse and the entire mindscape starts to get slow and feel sluggish until the others find him?" Sooo ye, this the product if that lol. Sned halp I'm dying. ---------

It started off with a headache. A small thing that was easily ignored. It's not like it was the first time he had a headache, he could deal. Nothing was going to stop him from doing his job, no ma'am! Not today bitch.

Not tomorrow either.

...

Or the next day.

...

Or the next- look man, he had shit to do, places to see and people to be and all that...

Remy frowned, that phrase didn't sound right... places to see and people to be-wasn't it the other way around?

Remy raised a manicured hand and rubbed his tired eyes, but continued to stare forward into the Sand screens, sighing as he had to rewind them back for the few seconds that he had missed when is eyes were closed. He been at it for days, constantly searching. Searching for something, a disturbance, what that disturbance was he didn't know and that unnerved him.

He kept sensing it from beyond the gate, at best it could be a stray Nightmare at worst a particularly gruesome intrusive thought.

Turns out...

It was both.

-------

Fighting off the Nightmare was child's play compared to the fight the Intrusive thought was giving him, and that's wild to say, considering that the Nightmare had been the 12 foot version of Mothman and Godzilla's love baby.

Thankfully a perfectly timed Sand Spear to its heart downed the creature effectively, but that of course was after he got tossed around like a freaking ragdoll-

Hissing Remy dodged the shadowed claw aiming for his throat. That was the annoying this about Intrusive thoughts. Once they snuck their claws into you, once their shadowy bodies clinged and coiled around you, once they whispered in your ears...you were practically done for. Unless of course, you had strong will power, but that could only take you so far.

Crouching into a side roll, Sleep narrowly dodged again. The thing's shadowy form could stretch, allowing its claws to jab at him at any distance. It made things a little bit difficult- not that his job was ever easy.

Rolling once more Remy then pushed himself up, jumping to his feet and then bending back to avoid a swipe to his head-even though the movement was quick, the Guardian saw the swirling claw pass over the lenses of his sunglasses in slow motion- huffing he quickly threw his hands over his head, pushing on the grass below him to basically complete a backflip.

Once upright and now a slight distance away from the enemy, Remy smirked, lifted a finger and beckoned it closer.

The Intrusive thought, angered, rushed forward- only for Sleep to take a single step back- it ran into a wall of sand. Confused the Thought tried to go around in an attempt to rip the Guardian into pieces- except it ran into another wall...and then another...and another. And before it could even think to have climbed up, another wall was placed above it.

It was completely surrounded.

"What you thought I was rolling around for nothin'? Please, this jacket is too goddessdamn expensive for that. Everytime I rolled, I had my Sand spread out, enough to lift up into a cage. Nice trick don'tcha think?"

The Intrusive thought howled throwing itself against the walls of its Sandy prison.

"Thought so too", Smirked Remy, "alright then, lights out buddy!"

Sleep clapped his palms together- the Sand walls moved, closing shut and completely crushing the being it once held.

"Welp, that's all folks", mumbled the Guardian to himself. The annoying buzzing had finally stopped, but his head still ached something rude.

Wincing a bit, he headed back to the Dream Tower.

-----

Remy groaned.

He fixed the problem, so why does his head still feel like he got run over by the mob at Sb's when Pumpkin Spice first gets out?

Speaking of Starbucks, when was the last time he actually went there? Last week? Week before? Why can't he remember??

He'd been functioning on the castle's brew, which wasn't bad, just...not good.

Eh, fuck it.

Shower, coffee then a power nap, yeah- that's a good idea, it'll probably get rid of his stupid headache too.

One cold shower, a trip to Starbies and an iced coffee later...he was now on his bed with an even worse headache.

Grumbling to himself about 'stupid fuckin headaches', Remy downed the rest of his drink, tossed his cup in the bin by his door and proceeded to flop down face first into his pillow.

Maybe the nap would help?

------

It did not help.

He woke up, not even a half hour later, with his head pounding so hard he could feel his pulse though his eyes.

Placing a hand to his temple Remy winced and then groaned, "what-the-ever-loving-fuck?!"

To make matters worse, his phone began to ring.

The sound was so loud it made him jump and scramble to shut it up.

It was the ringtone he used for Thomas but he honestly couldn't bring himself to answer his Host. His body had near automatically curled up, hands pressed against his ears and his eyes squeezed shut. Remy honestly felt like his head was trying to explode, even the sound of his own breathing was too loud-

The phone rang again, Roman's ringtone this time. A louder, much more bass heavy song.

The sound echoed, the reverb practically shaking his brain into pained mush, tears pricked at his eyes and he could do nothing more than whimper-

Remy's sand then rose up immediately and just...ate?? the offending piece of technology.

Sleep found that oddly funny, the sand covered the phone...and then the phone was gone, like a magic trick...or like something getting swallowed up by waves off the beach. Funny, the sand was the wave this time. He wanted to laugh or cry or something! He didn't know, everything...everything just freakin hurt.

----

Roman frowned.

"He's not answering my calls either"

"Of course" mumbles Thomas, flopping down on his bed and throwing a pillow over his face. "Uggh! I'm so tirrreed!!

"Um, We could always go look for him for you sport?" Tried Patton, a sympathetic look on his face.

"You could do that?"

"Well, considering that we can't really summon him since he's an Aspect and not a Side, that would be the best possible way of bringing him here", piped Logan from the Host's door frame.

Virgil, who was on the floor, shrugged. "I mean, I guess, we probably should check the nearest SB's first though"

Thomas chuckles "true"

The Manifestor removes the pillow from his face just in time to watch his sides sink down, hopefully they can find Sleep so he could actually get some decent sleep for once.

-----

The Personalities pop up in the Commons before climbing up the stairs towards Roman's room.

"Soo", whistles Virgil, falling into step with the prince, "where exactly are we going to find him?"

"The gate, first"

"But its day? I thought he only guarded it at night?"

"No, he guards it at all times, he's the Guardian of the Subconscious not a freaking night guard!"

"Woah easy Princey, go off on him not me-"

"No, no sorry, I just- he never ignores my calls, if he misses it, he calls me back immediately, we made a deal about it in case of emergencies...I think- I think something's wrong"

The other three exchange a glance at each other.

Roman pushes open the door a bright light depicting the portal to his Kingdom, the Mindscape itself. With a bit of concentration the light disperses, showing the image of the Dream Tower's entrance.

-----

The moment they step in, Roman freezes.

Everything feels off.

The air feels slow and sluggish and no one is moving around. As a matter of fact, no one was there at all.

Frowning, he climbs up the stairs towards Remy's room. Something was definitely wrong, the Dream Tower was always bustling with, Aspects, Figments and Emotions.

The others follow behind Roman as he picks up the pace-he almost trips.

There's a tugging, he looks down...sand, Gold sand is wrapped around his ankle.

"Shit!"

-------

"The Sand's not gonna attack us right? I've never seen it like this before"

"That's because it's worried about him, aren't your shadows the same way?"

"Uh, sometimes? I think? There a hell of a lot less sentient than this sand is, that's for sure"

Remy's room...would make the Sahara Desert cry.

Everything, everything was covered in sand. Well it was more like wrapped in sand? The glittering, gold dust didn't drown anything under it, the individual shapes of everything were clearly visible but it was a lot of sand.

"Will you two stop ogling at it and help us get him out of it. The infernal thing doesn't seem to realize the more it covers him the less of him we can actually hold-" huffs Logan, as he keeps trying to brush the sand off of Remy. Every time he did so more sand would crawl over it master, hissing at the Teacher as it did so.

Patton places a hand on his shoulder.

"Logan wait- I think the Sand doesn't want us to touch him"

"But that would defeat the purpose of it asking us to help!?"

"No I think it's for a different reason. I have an idea-"

"Patton we-"

"Hear him out L, none of us know what's going on-"

"Thank you Virge, Roman can you conjure me a thermometer?"

"Um, ok?" The prince holds out his hand and after a brief second of concentration, a new prepackaged thermometer appears.

Patton wastes no time in grabbing it and tearing pack open. Gently he turns Sleep's head- the Sand hisses at him for this.

"Shh, I'm just trying to help ok"

If sand could look sceptical...though it quiets and let's the Prominent personality slip the thermometer between Remy's parted lips.

It's kept under his tongue until it beeped-

"104.6°F"

-------

Bonus:

"Sleep"

"Ngh, where-?"

"Hey Sleep!"

"Mnh?"

Remy blinked his eyes open. His vision was blurry and his head pounded. Honestly he was consider going right back to-

"Sleep!"

Remy sat up with a gasp. Wincing as a cold rag fell into his lap. He picked it up. "What?"

"You ok there pal?"

Remy tensed, only just realizing that someone was in front of him, that someone being a very worried-

"Thomas?"

"Yeah it's me-"

"Where-?"

"You're in my room, and you kinda brought the Sides here too"

Ever confused, Remy could only squint and mumble. "Wha?"

Thomas simply pointed down.

From the bed that they were on, Remy could indeed see Thomas' main sides in all degrees of sprawled asleep on the floor. They did look quite peaceful though.

"Um?"

"Yeah...that was my reaction too-"

"You said I brought them here?"

"Uh, ye, about that...what do you remember?"

Sleep placed a hand to his head, wincing... "Um, your- your phone call I think and ...Roman's? But other than that, I have no clue"

"I-uh, I guess I could tell you what they told me?"

"Better than nothing, go for it"

-------

"Pat said you had a high fever and according to him, the others were helping to lower it, but-"

"but?"

"But you...kinda woke up? Roman said you were out of it, mumbling something about protecting me and a fence-"

"Gate"

"What?"

"It's a Gate, huge ass Golden gate that separates the conciousness from the unconsciousness, the literal division and final protection of your subconscious"

"...ok wow, I didn't, um"

"I still can't believe that you've been inside the subconscious, the damn Dream Tower itself and still haven't seen the Gate"

"In my defense, I almost died"

"Fair. Now continue, what did my apparently fever drunk ass do next?"

"Um, well Virgil said you turned into a zombie, you like stood up and were trying to get outside, Roman had to hold you back but you kept shuffling forward-"

"Oof. Yeah...been there done that-"

"What? This happened before?"

"Ohh yeah. One time I was sick and my girls at the Tower had to legit lock me in my room so I wouldn't keep working"

"And here I thought you were lazy?"

"I'm far from lazy hun, I'm just always late. I don't like hard work, doesn't mean I won't do it, I just don't like it. Besides I'm cool do you think anyone this fine could look like this by being lazy? Please gurl, my work schedule could put Logan to shame"

"And yet-"

"And yet I'm always late, yeah- yeah. Look my sense of time and direction, are like, complete shit babes, but at the end of the day, I get my shit done and it gets done well. Quality over quantity and all that."

Both Aspect and Host paused and then instantly started laughing.

"Ok,ok, what happened next? How did we all end up in here?" Asked Remy as he gained his breath back.

"Uh, yeah, um apparently while you were struggling against Roman, Logan had asked Patton how he thought this would have affected me-"

"And let me guess, I heard him mention your name and just popped everyone here huh?"

"Yeah, pretty much, basically"

Remy shook his head at himself.

"Alright, why are they all sprawled out? I doubt that Roman of all people volunteered to sleep on the floor"

"Yeah...about that. When you brought everyone here, you kinda passed back out. The others were trying to explain something about the sand in your room, when this Gold sand just appeared from nowhere and Moana-Ocean-style came up to each of them in like the shape of a finger and just.. shushed them. Like literally went "Shhh"

"Oh, God-"

"And then before we could question it, it retracted, like it crawled back over you and turned into your bag- wait! Is that why you always have this bag with you?!"

"No duh? It's my sand, just easier to carry it around in bag form-"

"H-how, how does it change color like that?"

"It doesn't, that's just the color it takes when it's dormant and bright Gold when awake-"

"Cool, and what about your shades and Jacket?"

"That...is whole 'nother story, one I have absolutely no energy to tell tbh"

"Oh. Ok, well the guys kinda just drifted right off after your Sand became your bag, so yeah, that's the whole story I guess"

"A mess, but good to know-" Remy chuckled only to cut himself off with a wince. His head was still hurting like hell, even throughout Thomas' recounting- but now it just felt worse.

Watching Sleep in pain made the Host's stomach coil. He didn't like seeing anyone hurt, especially his Sides or Aspects in this case.

Gently he grabbed Sleep's shoulders and helped lower him back onto a pillow.

"Ok, why don't you lay back down-"

"Yeah, ok"

------

Remy lays back, settling himself on the bed...and then he pouts.

Thomas chuckles, already knowing the reason for that pout. He easily pulls Remy onto his chest, patting his back gently. The Aspect practically melts into it.

"And you call me clingy"

"Shhh!"

-----

Thomas is woken up early next morning, by the sounds of hissing and mumbled cursing.

Sitting up, he bites his tongue so as not to laugh at the sight before him.

A disheveled Roman was carrying a very much asleep...Sleep, bridal style. The Aspect had his face burrowed in the crook of the Prince's neck, seemingly relaxed, completely unperturbed by the events. Right next to Roman was Patton, who was holding Virgil quite similarly. Every second or so, the Emo's foot or arm would twitch before he resettled. Honestly between Virgil and Remy, Thomas couldn't tell who was snoring harder. The kicker though, was Logan, sleepily holding onto Patton's cat hoodie,slightly swaying as he rubbed his eyes. The Logical side was obviously not a morning person.

Patton waved at his Host, while Roman gave him a nod, Logan mumbled something, but Thomas could not decipher any of the other's sleepy jargon.

The Manifestor simply waved as they sunk down.

Once gone, Thomas flopped right back down curling up comfortably- what? He was sleepy.

------

AN:// Hi guys, I did a thing! I should probably take a nap tho XD. The Innerworks update is still coming, I've just been busy and tired, but it's coming, just hang in there. But you can consider this lil ficlet a part of the Innerworks universe, it just takes place after the events in Innerworks....so canon lol.

#sander sides #thomas sanders #sleep sanders #remy sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sick fic #my writting #innerworks #technically #have a sick Remy cause why not?

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steve0discusses · 6 years ago

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Yugioh Ep 24 S3: Blimp’s Ultimate Form

So, I realized as I sat down to the blog today that I’ve been doing this for like...a year and half now? I think? So I figured...how many of these have I MADE? Cuz I thought...I MUST be getting close to the 100th recap pretty soon, and guys, the answer was shocking.

This is, in fact, the 121st recap (including Season 0). That is a LOT of content. I don’t think I have that many pages for my own webcomic (which basically only tells you how long and physically exhausting the drawing process is more than anything else). Along the way I realized I was a.) really bad at numbering episodes, and b.) reaaaaally bad at spelling Kaiba at the start of this series, really cringey how I used to spell everyone’s name, I can’t really look back there.

Anyway, in case you are curious, the 100th episode was the “Pharaoh turns Karibo into a rainbow for some reason” episode. So, unfortunately it wasn’t that extraordinary. I forgot to write down which episode was 69, which is a colossal failure on my part.

So that being said, this is the last episode of this arc! Honestly, this arc could’ve been a lot shorter because at this point the only resolution left is for Noah to be a decent person once in his life and for Kaiba Sr. to die (which he’s already done, so...mission already accomplished)

Noah recently came on the PA system to inform us that he accidentally decided to kill everyone (congrats, recently reformed Noah), and so he’s going to do the decent thing and let them know where the exit is without actually doing a damn thing to make a portal to get them to said exit.

Guess where the exit is?

I don’t know why the hell this show keeps going back to the local Dave and Busters where Tea got attacked on a dance machine.

At this moment, Gozaburo decided to turn into some sort of giant red ghost devil.

Yes. Exactly what it sounds like.

Apparently this was a thing he could just do this entire arc.

(read more after the cut)

The fact that Seto’s Dad can just morph into a giant red demon is like...not even a problem for anyone on this cast. He literally goes back to his side of the field and goes right back to playing cards. Cuz youknow. Cards.

It’s basically a "Anyone with a millennium item can shoot lasers but never actually does” but demon format. Gozaburo *could* turn into the hulk but like...why?

Meanwhile the rest of the cast are playing cards against the card monsters, that are really just 3D models that Gozaburo had on file. He could have used...literally anything to throw at these people and he went with cards. He could have just dropped a boat on them but...I dunno, maybe he didn’t know where the boat folder was.

Yugi trying really hard to not acknowledge the annoying as hell Joey face and give it any more attention than it already has.

Tea and Serenity scramble to the exit largely unscathed, dragging Tristan with them because he is too small to hold a card hologram and is too monkey to be at all useful back on the front lines.

And they just wake up. Just like that. Just like they woke up from a simple nap or something.

And voila, Tristan is no longer a monkey, his brain is back to normal, the writers were like “we really have to focus on Noah right now, please forgive us if we just pretend line all that brain damage Tristan went through, his brain being 5 DIFFERENT PEOPLE at the same time, having his brainwaves turned into an actual monkey, and then back again within the space of a few hours- just pretend he’s fine now.

It’s fine. Tristan’s fine.

Tristan wasn’t really...all that bright to begin with so...he’s fine.

And so, as our B team is getting back into the real world, Noah sees this little post-it note on the side of his computer that says “PS, Yugi is a main character and must be present for the finale although he will serve little purpose there” and so Noah pressed that intercom mic button to say:

And it’s at this point that Noah says “I’ll just make you a portal and warp you right there” and then I guess everyone standing around Noah kind of looked at eachother and was like “NOW you do that? NOW? AFTER the chase through the monster copy-paste factory?”

The show is desperately trying to convince me that Noah is now fully a good brother but ehhhhh he’s not. Like, I’ll be honest, they give him the best send off they could have possibly given to such an irredeemably evil character. Like, Seto himself is such a bag of pistachios that you really have to stretch Noah pretty far into evil territory to make Seto look like the good guy in comparison, and it sort of made me not really buy this whole Noah redemption arc.

It’s more like a prequel to a redemption arc that apparently won’t even happen in this series of Yugioh. He comes back at some point, and I only know that because I had to do a google image search of this kid for some reason and it was like ah, yeah, this is definitely a screen cap of a later, glossier looking Yugioh. But, for now, I’d say that Noah’s arc isn’t so much about him coming closer to his family or turning towards the ‘light’, as Pharaoh put it last episode. It’s more about Noah finally letting go of his Father, which should have been the arc of Seto Kaiba.

Instead, Seto did absolutely nothing to let go of his Dad, to the point that Seto is now fighting a computer that just kind of looks like his Dad during a missile strike aimed at Seto’s own face, and Seto did not stop till he won, because of his own damn pride.

Like I think I mentioned this in the last recap, but if they wanted to have Seto show any changes in this arc (which he hasn’t done) then he should have walked away. Instead, he’s very clearly still using his past trauma to fuel the obsessive reasons why he’s playing cards in the present.

Oh, and PS, Yugi’s here, I don’t know why he is, but it does make for some good scenery shots for the commercials so you know, why not.

Gozaburo decides it’s about time to turn into a 50 ft rage monster, and he pushes them to a ledge. Ah, dangerous ledge trope, it’s been a while.

And, finally, as was hinted basically since S1, Yugi gets Seto to jump directly off a ledge of a very tall structure. It finally happened.

Don’t think about it.

And into a portal? That gets them to the exit? Like y’all...this is a kid’s show and all so I shouldn’t question any very convenient plot devices but like...what?

Anyways, they’re fine now, don’t worry about it.

And so, now for a brother pow-wow between Mokuba, who is either still very, very much in Stockholm Syndrome Territory or maybe just doesn’t know that Noah dropped a rocket on his face while Moki was AFK.

And so Noah walks off into the fog cloud because he is the only person on this entire show who would rather die than share a brain (and you know Moki would’ve been down. Moki/Noah as the next Yugi/Pharaoh could’ve been a great thing but youknow, also very much way too complicated for this already complicated show).

It was very melodramatic.

And TBH, I will miss Noah a little bit, he had a fun, insane sort of snobby sass, but I can understand why they might not want to keep even more villains around on this show that is already like...dozens of villains, just so many villains.

Anyway, remember that they woke up in a lab and not in a blimp, so they still have to like...get off this damn boat.

Lol nearly forgot this was an anime. Glad Noah got a magic girl moment before he kicked it.

Also, I’m pretty sure it was shirtless Noah in this glowing yellow farmer’s tan that got this episode flagged for Adult Content when it was still in my drafts folder. Tumblr’s bot got super excited to shut this one way down lol.

And then what follows is like one of the best animated loops in Yugioh. One so good that you bet your ass I clipped it to view for my own leisure.

Mokuba, sensing he’s slowing down for no reason makes the mistake of telling his brother “I’m not going to make it” and so, as an unsuspecting Duke Devlin reaches out and says “grab my hand,” Kaiba does...THIS

when the entire time Kaiba was strong enough and had enough jumps to do THIS

Like he could have easily picked up Mokuba but youknow, any chance to throw a kid at Duke Devlin’s face shoe-first, I guess.

Maybe this is why Moki wears a puffy vest?

And so it was here, as the flames encroach on my wonderful blimp baby that I was getting ready to say goodbye, but guess what, she ain’t dead because...of a completely insane reason we’ll get to in a bit.

Oh, and PS Kaiba’s Dad is a flame monster now. Because of...technology?

It’s probably supposed to be metaphorical flames but youknow, apparently Kaiba had the foresight that someone at some point would become a flame demon and try to devour his entire blimp, and so he made a feature you can add onto what ever blimp you decide to buy from him just so you can outrun fire people attacks.

And it turns out Blimp was the real Magical Girl all along.

Blimp lore is getting pretty wild y’all.

Imagine playing cards on it now...

And then everyone collectively decided that Noah WASN’T DEAD. It was very unhealthy! Thanks 4Kids!

The irony about this exchange is that it is Bakura who is the one who’s uploaded to a flash drive, not Noah--Bakura is on a flash drive around Yugi’s neck but they have never discussed this. Like I’m pretty sure no one even has still picked up that Bakura died and that’s going to be the thing I look forward to the most next episode. If they even address it. Which they might not.

And so, Kaiba looks at the wreckage and the rocket parts that he now has to explain to the UN (and probably not for the first time) and he says:

And thus ends the Kaiba’s Kojima-esque War Crimes arc.

Oh man, next time we get to go back to Marik.

Man oh man.

I don’t even REMEMBER what was going on in that arc guys. It’s been like...man.

I might have to read my own blog to refresh myself haha, I honestly have forgotten a lot of details.

Anyway, in memory of when the blimp still looked like a blimp, I guess this is the last time I can ever post this song:

youtube

And here’s a link to read these recaps from the beginning in chrono-order

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courage-a-word-of-justice · 5 years ago

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Stars Align 5

Geepers, I accidentally read some spoilers before watching this episode…so I realised that the person in te clubroom was Toma without his glasses, but it took me a bit to realise still.

“Makimaki”…cute.

Don’t give Maki’s father your name, Toma. Names are weapons for guys like him!

It’s ben a while since I’ve done this type of maths, although the answer appears to be correct.

Huh? The ED went straight to the teachers instead of going to Kinuyo/Ruriha/Kaori (whatever her name is)…

Oh! That heart gesture hints at the fact he has a sister (I’ve forgotten the guy’s name though) – he might’ve learnt some dance choreography from watching idols or magical girls with her. Update: That’s Shingo.

Dr Stone 19

Rule no. 2 of shonen – don’t underestimate the bishonen.

The guy who kinda looks like Kirishima with orange hair is definitely going to be important…(rule no. ???? of anime).

Ooh! The themes I thought would never came back…came back!

Some people do consider underpaying people a modern form of slavery, y’know.

Does Tsukasa always have to be called “the strongest primate”, though…? It’s a badass title, to be sure, but it certainly wouldn’t be said a lot in a normal conversation.

Judging by the flame (homura) she carries, I’d wager her name is Homu-oh, dangit. Her name really is Homura!

Senku teaches Fire Safety 101.

Ginro’s not holding his bokuto (wooden kendo practice sword) anymore…hmm.

I didn’t think Sulfuric Acid lady would be back…ever.

The funny thing is that Tsukasa seems to be a gender-neutral name, so telling the brawny men to “go suck on Mommy Tsukasa’s teat”…LOL.

Hyoga has that mask thing of his anyway, so he’s probably better off than, say, Homura.

Is that a Death Star??????!!!!

Kensaku means “search”.

Cell phone…you’d need extensive knowledge of electronics and/or IT and architecture (for the larger networks, or at least the towers) to get one running.

“…who’ll be our double agent?” – No duh. It’s either Gen (as suggested in the scene just before) or Taiju and/or Yuzuriha.

I never thought a smartphone would make me feel sad for what has gone before, but it just did when all these quotes from the past came through.

Okay, so one of the ingredients is steel (hagane).

I love how Gen gets the wine image. He’s a stage magician, so his fancy suit matches the image of a sommelier.

Byakuya seems to be the one represented in the battery image.

BnHA 67

Yay! Amajiki, my booooooooooy!

Shinchou Yuusha 6

I never thought I’d say this to my seasonal husbandos – I don’t even say this about zaShunina, the random yandere – but…Seiya, you a**hole!

Lemme guess…Seiya’s gonna use some speed seeds?

I read on Leviae’s status earlier that she has an immunity towards fire…*gulp*

A nurikabe is a wall youkai that blocks travel, while a hyosube lives in a river and eats rice plants.

What’s the age gap between Mash and Elulu? I know Mash is hot enough (in the manga) to be compltly within my range, so I’d say he’s about 16 at the youngest, but Elulu is, what, 12…? Update: There’s no real indication as to what the characters’ ages are, but Mash is lvl 16 and Elulu is lvl 8.

Ooh, this is new! Seiya’s thrown caution to the wind for once for the sake of Elulu!

No Guns Life 6

“Strong Smells” (on the can) – Yep, Olivier seems to be proving that name right.

Motor City…I didn’t really care for it at first, but now I’m starting to warm up to it.

Ooh, it seems the implication here is that Olivier inherited the title of EMS commander from her dad.

“…I’m gonna get shot!” - I guess when you’ve got a gun for a head, the assumption is you’re gonna get shot.

Armed Tokisada seems to be this world’s version of All Might…(but then is Juzo Deku? LOL.)

Iruma-kun 7

This OP is a lot more battle-oriented than I remember…

I want a GIF of sparkly Amelie, stat!

Iruma’s voice as Rin is too CUTE! LOL!

Kawaii Comics, LOL.

Ooh! I can recognise Opera by his nail polish now…! His nail polish appears to be purple today.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Opera express his own concern for Iruma until now. Maybe he’s like a surrogate mother to Iruma by now…?

They even have monsters to call out bell noises…LOL wut.

Hmm…I just realised Azz speaks to Iruma rather formally. Not just the –sama, but the keigo as well.

Azz is rather observant too…(Seriously, I swear he’s been teetering on the edge of being my husbando from this show, but since he’s so subservient, it’s a bit of a hard concept to grasp. Not to mention the guy is, what, 14…?)

Even the shadows of background characters are blue and pink…

The little arrow over Clara really sells the moment.

The bird is so cute~!

I only realised it this year, but boba is really in, all over the world, for young people. *stares at all the boba shops that have appeared around my area lately*

I think Ameri = watashi and Iruma = boku. It’s politeness all the way ‘round. I think Sabro might’ve used ore.

“Don’t let go. Desire is your life.” – Sarazanmai ad <- I think this quote is appropriate for this episode.

Oh! We see Kuromu the Akudol in the ED…I didn’t realise that. (<- knows about her due to spoilers)

Oh! I think next episode might be Clara’s seduction class! Ooh! Interesting…

Dr Stone 20

Come to the dark side, we have candy…amirite???

Dr Stone 21

The pun here is that tou is a way to pronounce “copper” and “steal”, so Chrome copped copper in the Eng subs.

Couldn’t Ginro just use the word “s***” instead? That would’ve made the pun a lot better, tbh.

Thy translated all the dialogue in the fake menus! Yay! (<- translator’s brain showing up) For instance, Senku’s attack is listed as 1 while Suika’s is 3 and Gen’s is 5…LOL. The one that really made me laugh was “Runs away the second he knows he’s at a disadvantage. You’re scum, Ginro!”

Magma wasn’t in the fake game menu…!!! (I like how Magma questioned how Senku suddenly started calling him a “friend”.)

No Guns Life 7

I feel like the length of time between distracting the guard and Tetsuro conveying his plan was a bit much, but…okay.

Shinchou Yuusha 7

LOL, Beel Bub…y’know, Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies.

If Seiya were watching No Guns Life, he’d freak out…

Is that Cerceus in the back-yep, thought so!

Shinchou Yuusha 8

I almost expected Rosalie to woof…that’s how doglike she is!

Why do I get the feeling we’ll 1) find out what the Warmaster looks like next ep and 2) find out Rosalie’s armour is actually the armour Seiya’s meant to look for…? I could be wrong, but my intuition has some chance of being correct, even if I think up stuff that’s pure speculation…

Stars Align 6

Does Yonex sponsor this show, like Mikasa for Harukana Receive…?

LOL, Mitsue’s reaction.

If this were the Amazing Race, the hometown advantage would suck…but this is Hoshiai no Sora, so this could go either way.

“How to Soft Tennis” indeed…sic.

Wait, who’s Takada…? Update: She’s on the girls’ team, IIRC.

The Takenouchi/Souga pair is a bunch of trolls…LOL.

Oji seems to be the leader, full stop. Same way Katsuragi has been running things.

It’s been a few weeks since I last watched this show, but…is Oji the guy who threatened to punch them all…? He is, isn’t he…?

Stars Align 7

I feel like Mitsue’s bitterness is fuelled by personal experience in the manga field…

Well, the guy’s name isn’t Arashi (storm) for nothing! Update: The guy’s name is in katakana, which may or may not prove my point…

Arashi’s surname sounds like the Japanese word for “prince”, if you’re wondering.

I LOLled so hard at the line “Versus Arashi?” Y’see, there’s this game show with a group called Arashi. Therefore, its name is “Versus Arashi”.

I learnt most of what I know about tennis from Wii Sports, LOL.

I mentally cringed when I saw Itsuki’s burns again…

“…years and experience.” – That’s two things, Tacky!

Souya from Planet With would be in heaven here…what with all this meat.

Doesn’t “Kamuy” mean “god” in Ainu…? That Ouji, so conceited! *huffs at how arrogant the boy is*

Girls do eat like fiends…LOL.

I can’t believe 7 episodes in real life time was only a month in Stars Align time…

Yuta’s really sensitive to Toma’s mood…probably because the former likes the latter. (Yeah, I’m a derp for saying what we already know.)

Stars Align 8

I-I wanna cry…you do realise I gave up piano halfway through high school, only to become an absolute bum when I got into higher levels because I can’t use my piano lessons to demonstrate I can manage my time responsibly anymore???? I quit Chinese the same year and now it’s the one thing that’s preventing me from getting a bunch of beneficial opportunities because now there are so many Chinese people in my region! Studies are not your life! (distant crying can be heard in the background)

I kinda get where the mother’s going with this, but knowing what I know…please compromise, you two.

“The handsome half” – I wasn’t sure what that meant until I saw the image…”half” meaning ha-fu, or a person who’s half Japanese half something else. It’s like calling someone gweilow in Cantonese –it’s vaguely derogatory at the very minimum.

*Yuta’s sisters suggest clothes for him to wear* “Don’t tell mom about this.” – Oh, I have a bad feeling about this…(Then again, I got vaguely spoiled for this point by the This Week in Anime segment…that’s why I decided to watch 3 episodes in one shot.)

Maki’s shirt says “to continue”, as if it’s echoing his nonchalance. Like, “Yuta, please continue” or something like that.

To be real with you, the first resource I consulted to start thinking about the LGBTIQ+ spectrum (outside gender-bending fiction) was a book about an FtM person, so I guess I’m the most used to that sort of thing.

This is why empathy is so good, Maki.

Go, Mitsue! Be the diversion!

Who’s “Kanacat”? Kanako?...Oh, it’s Mitsue. Rigggggggggght.*facepalm*

Why do I get the feeling Mitsue wants to join the soft tennis club…?

Sakurai-sensei’s glasses are all fogged up, LOL.

Ohh (sounds down). These kiddos are soccer nuts.*grumbles about soccer nuts*

Update: To be honest with you, I’m fine with not making hard gender decisions too…Just so you know.

#simulcast commentary #Stars Align #hoshiai no sora #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #No Guns Life #mairimashita! iruma-kun #Welcome to Demon School! Iruma-kun #Dr Stone #Chesarka watches NGL #Chesarka watches BnHA #Chesarka watches MI-k #Chesarka watches Stars Align #chesarka watches dr stone #shinchou yuusha #kono yuusha ga ore tueee kuse ni shinchou sugiru #this hero is invincible but too cautious #the hero is overpowered but overly cautious #Chesarka watches Shinchou Yuusha

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martinscardigan · 6 years ago

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Sweet Dreams (Reader x Elmer)

Word Count: 2,770

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, Delanceys, Violence TW, and just general angst tbh

A/N:

You were kicked out of your home for being friends with the Newsies and Elmer finds you crying on the streets. He recognizes you from selling around your house a few times and takes you to the lodgehouse. Elmer is an adorable human, and I love him

Soooo, I had this idea like a week and a half ago and it wouldn’t leave me alone. I guess in my brain I always Headcannon Elmer as just a sweetie and so this happened. Apparently hurt/comfort is like the only thing I know how to write lol

You were kicked out of your house in early January. And it was cold on the streets of New York, so your first priority was to find a place to sleep that wasn’t under a well cut tree in central park. You had seen the newsies around before, even talked to most of them before but never really in depth until one of them saw you crying as you walked down the street in the Bowery.

“Hey, Hey, I knows ya right,” He grabbed you by the shoulders and tried to get you to look up at him. “You live off of 5th, right?”

“Used to, my father just kicked me out,” You pulled away from him in anger, but the boy put his arm around you.

“The name’s Elmer, and I am not going to let you wander these streets alone, it’s getting dark-” The boy explained before you cut him off.

“And who gives you the right?”

“I mean, I just don’t want ya to freeze to death, you were always nice to me, so it’s time I repay the favor.”

For a moment you weighed your options, he did make a good point about not freezing to death, but also, you weren’t anyone’s charity case. Only giving in to walk silently at Elmer’s side, his arm dropping when he realized you weren’t going to bolt. You followed him all the way to the Newsboy’s Lodgehouse.

“No, no way. I ain’t no newsie,” you protested, placing your feet firmly on the ground.

“You don’t gotta be a newsie forever, but until you find something you like better, this is gonna be the safest spot for ya,” Elmer shrugged.

“I just- the whole reason I’m in this mess is that my father- well, he saw me talking to a group of you one day. It was Race, Albert and Specs- I think, and he didn’t like that, he said it brought shame on the family name to associate with lowlifes like that. Said if he saw it happen again I’d be out on the street selling papes faster than I could count to ten,”

Elmer just looked at you for a moment and you took it as a hint to keep talking.

“And this morning he saw me walking around town with Les, the younger one. And after working today, he came home and threw me out, with just the clothes on my back and told me I’d disgrace the family less if I just-” You started crying and Elmer looked at you with sympathetic eyes. He put his arm around your shoulder and practically dragged you into the lodgehouse.

The inside of the lodgehouse was warmer and more humid than it was outside, and the break from the harsh wind was much needed. Your fingers had started to go numb and your ears were nearly frostbitten- you were sure of it. The first thing he did was push you on to a couch and told you to stay there, which was easily accomplished as you knew you couldn’t go back outside now that you were remembering what it felt like to actually have feeling in your fingers.

It could have been just a few minutes to over an hour before Elmer came back, you weren’t sure. You could see the shoes of the Newsboys shuffling around you, you didn’t want to look up at any of them though, lest they recognize you. When Elmer came back, he carried a mug of hot water and a blanket.

“There,” he said, after getting you wrapped in the blanket and sipping on the hot water.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him weakly. He smiled back and despite it all, you found his smile to be the most comforting thing about this whole experience.

“You don’t have to stay around here for long, but I think it’s better than the streets, and besides a lot of the guys know who you are already,” Elmer offered, the smile continuing to glow on his face.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” you whispered, another stray tear leaking from your eye.

“You ain’t gonna be a bother, besides, the bunk next to mine is open and I’d rather have you as a neighbor than someone else,” he explained. And for a moment you deliberated the idea, your hands started to have feeling in them, and it provided some new clarity.

“Well, I suppose bein’ a newsie won’t be all that bad, right? You just gotta promise to teach me,” you shrugged. If your father decided the reason you should be kicked out was because of the newsies, then why not lean into it, right?

Elmer did a little dance in his seat at this, and gave you a hug. At first you stiffened but then leaned in.

“This is gonna be so great, Y//N!”

-.-.

A few days later was your first day selling papes. You needed the time to recuperate from getting kicked out and being on the streets. Your small mattress was basically a new home at this point.

It was precious, all the guys had pitched in to buy you a coat, and a scarf. Race had brought a catalogue that he had found and you were in the process of tearing pictures out of it so you could have some photos of things you liked in your space.

And then there was Elmer, he was so kind to you that sometimes you didn’t know what to do. The first night you stayed in the lodgehouse, he slept on the floor next to your bed in case you needed something or started crying. The second night, when you did start crying in the middle of the night, he jumped into action, wrapping his arms around you and humming an old Polish song until you calmed down.

This morning he woke you up by jumping on top of you.

“Y//N! It’s time to wake up! Yous gonna be my partner today!!!” He half shouted, and you couldn’t help but smile as you heard all the Newsies groan.

“Could you not have waited for the mornin’ bell to ring?” You accused, and just as soon as your sat up in your bed, the bell rung. In the dark blue morning light, you barely contained a giggle as Elmer flicked his eyebrows up at you.

“Get a move on!” He lept back off of the bed, and held a hand out to help you out of bed. You ran your fingers through your hair, put on socks, boots, and your cap. You caught a glimpse of your reflection as you walked past a window, you looked like a real newsie now. Elmer tossed you a biscuit for breakfast and you grinned as you took a bite.

“Y//N likes Elmer,” Race drew as he was putting on his suspenders.

“Shut up Race, we’re just friends, that’s all,” You laughed taking another bite of the biscuit.

“Uh-huh, friends like me and Spot Conlon, right?” Race wiggled his eyebrows. You cringed slightly, unable to forget when you had accidentally walked in on them making out, no one telling you what the cap on the door meant.

“Shut up Race,” You repeated, still laughing. You put your coat on, and your scarf just before walking to Newsies square. The air was cold, the morning still mainly dark, but the laughter of your newfound friends made up for it.

You waited at the gate between Elmer and Albert, purposefully trying not to shiver because you had heard that the Delancey Brothers could smell weakness from a mile away and would harass you endlessly for it. When you saw the two brothers come to open the gate, you could smell the entitled coming off of them.

“LINE UP!” The Weasel called, truth be told you were so scared and your heart was racing so fast that the only thing you could think to do was to follow Elmer so closely that you were almost holding onto the back of his shirt. You got your papes and followed Elmer to a corner that you didn’t recognize. For the first little bit you watched him hawk the paper and you made some mental notes.

Unfortunately the headline wasn’t great so it wasn’t the easiest thing you had ever done. But at the end of the day you were able to get your own food, and that was what mattered to you.

“Sorry, I don’t think I was very good at that,” you took a bite of your food.

“It takes lots of practice, and admittedly, I may not be the best teacher,” Elmer shrugged. You were walking home in the orange of the street lights and the air seemed to be freezing around you as you went.

“You did better than me,” you shrugged, ahead of you and Elmer you saw two figures who you barely recognized in the fog of your breath but as they got closer, you recognized the rich, entitled Delancey brothers from earlier. In a moment of panic you grabbed onto Elmer’s arm.

“This is not good, if I told you to run and find Jack, would you be able to get back to the lodgehouse?” Elmer turned to you and whispered frantically, you paused for a moment racking your brain to remember and you frantically shook your head that you couldn’t.

“I’m not gonna let them hurt you,” Elmer said with the most anger you had ever heard in his voice. He took a few steps in front of you, and stood there protectively.

“Well, look what we got here, two newsies,” Oscar cracked his knuckles, and Morris smirked.

“We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble Oscar,” Elmer said gruffly.

“Yeah, well, we’s got express orders to rough up a certain new newsie,” Morris said and looked pointedly at you. “Your father ain’t too pleased with ya, are they?”

You gasped in mild horror, and held to Elmer’s arm a little bit tighter. You watched in abject horror as they walked closer to you. The next several moments seemed like they stretched for years. Oscar and Morris rushed forward and pushed past Elmer quickly, and then you felt a strong pain in your jaw. You balled your fist and swung, hitting the air in front of Morris’ face. Elmer managed to pull Oscar off of you, and knocked him out.

When Oscar’s body hit the ground, Morris stopped and turned his focus onto Elmer. You felt a surge of strength and managed to get up off the ground.

“Morris, stop!” You kicked him, and then tried to look around for anything to hit him with. There wasn’t anything you could think of, but you couldn’t handle to see the sweetest person you knew in this situation. You managed to pull Morris off Elmer, and dodge his fist as it swung at your face. “Just get Oscar and go.”

You pushed him onto the ground and went to Elmer who was leaning up against a building trying to catch his breath.

“Are you going to be okay to get us back to the lodge house?” You asked, putting your arm around his shoulders.

“I’ll be okay, he missed most of his hits, but you look like hell,” Elmer grunted.

“Thanks, lets go,” you started to walk, half dragging Elmer. When you made it back to the lodgehouse you nearly collapsed on the couch and called for Race and Albert to bring the first aid kit.

“Oh my God what happened to you two?” Race asked as he rushed in with the box holding the medical supplies.

“My father paid off the Delancy’s,” you explained, Albert and Race helped to patch the two of you up. Coming to the conclusion that there would be some pretty horrible bruises, but not much worse than that. Elmer had sprained his ankle, but he said the pain was manageable. Just as you were about to help Elmer up the stairs, you saw Jack come through the door.

“Delanceys?” Jack said simply sighing. You hadn’t seen much of him since coming to the lodgehouse, but you knew him on sight.

“Yeah, and someone can’t walk anymore,” you jokingly glared at Elmer. Jack grumbled and apologized that this happened, sending you a tired smile.

“I’ll help you with Elmer,” Jack walked over and Elmer hobbled over to Jack, who carried the extra weight significantly better than you did.

“Y//N’s dad paid off the Delanceys to soak us.” Elmer explained as you all walked up the stairs.

“Are you serious?” Jack turned his head and looked at you with shock on his face. You nodded grimmly.

“They didn’t get me too bad, just my ankle,” Elmer shrugged.

“You gonna sell tomorrow?” Jack asked, you followed a few steps back just listening to Jack and Elmer talk about what the plans were for the next day. You felt an ache in your legs from kicking so hard. You were thankful that the room you were in was on the third floor instead of the fourth or fifth.

“Hey, Y//N, if ya need anything, I’ll be on the roof, got it?” Jack smiled, he touched your shoulder comfortingly, and had a kind look in his eye. You decided that while you definitely had a healthy fear and respect for Jack, he was also very kind to the younger Newsies.

“Come on Elmer,” you helped him over to his bed. “I’m sorry this happened. I knew my family would get in the way sometime soon, but not in just a few days, and not like this.”

“Hey, I’d get in front of the Delancey’s for you any day,” Elmer grinned and patted the bed next to him.

“You’ve been so kind to me since I got kicked out and this is how I repay you,” You sighed as you sat next to him on the soft mattress.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay in a few days,” he put his arm around your shoulders.

“It’s just not fair,” you shrugged. “Well, I better get some rest if you ain’t gonna sell tomorrow.”

You went to stand up, but Elmer grabbed your hand as you did.

“Uhm, stay. I’d rather you be here, since I can’t make it over if you have a nightmare,” his voice was barely above a whisper, with a few boys milling around you nervously closed the short distance.

“Are you sure? Won’t we get in trouble or something?” You sat on his bed next to him, the close proximity making it hard to think straight.

“Nah, we’ll just say it was cold or something, now help me take off my boots,” Elmer laughed, and his smile was charming. Next thing you knew you were helping him unlace his shoes, and take off his jacket, and scarves. You put them in a pile on the floor and then undid you shoes, placed them next to his, and added your coat to the pile.

You saw Race out of the corner of your eye and he winked at you. You rolled your eyes, and then laid down next to Elmer. There wasn’t a lot of space so you were really close. You rolled onto your side and Elmer pulled you to him.

“It saves space,” Elmer shrugged, a smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes, but as Elmer started to hum the song that was so familiar to you by now you fell under the current of sleep quickly.

The nightmares stayed away that night.

Over the next few days as Elmer was healing you went and sold with several of the boys. Each had their own take on it, Race talked to as many people as possible, Jack made up headlines that caught the attention of everyone, Albert was very specific about who he talked to and what he said, and Les, well, Les was just adorable, so who wouldn’t have wanted to buy from him?

You brought back sandwiches for Elmer everyday, you would split them and sit on the floor, talking about whatever you did that day. His ankle was getting better, and slowly but surely you were able to get out and sell together again.

With the skills you learned from the others, each day blew by like a breath of fresh air. The routine was simple, and you got into the groove quickly. No matter how much you loved joking with Elmer during the day, when it came time to go home at night, you looked forward to sleeping next to him. You never had a nightmare again.

#newsies #newsies fic #my writing #reader x elmer #elmer x reader #hurt/comfort #idk i think its cute #sprace is also mentioned #this is kinda like my child because ive worked on it for a week and a half not just like BANG done

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psifitopia · 6 years ago

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late liveblogging

I’ve decided to go ahead and do a “live” blogging of Murdoc + MacGyver + Murdoc. Hurray for CBS All Access! I just have so many reactions to this and I notice more stuff as I keep rewatching. lol This is actually the fifth or sixth time I’ve watched this episode. I can’t get enough of it.

To be fair to him, Mac did lock his door, after coming in. Not that did it did him much good, of course.

I gotta agree with Murdoc. They really need to get rid of the George Washington mask.

Owch! That’s gotta hurt. Mac is TICKED! Haha Murdoc, you’re winded.

Do you really care if the water is filtered, Murdoc? It’s no wonder Mac gets impatient with you.

There it is he USED to admire Liu for being dangerous and violent. Maybe it’s different, when it’s aimed at Cassian...or Murdoc’s heart is changing. MacGyver is so unimpressed right now, even when giving credit where due. Apparently, Murdoc is better at hunting than rescuing.

“I care about you so much...” And you do such a crap job of showing it, Murdoc. Honestly.

Mac’s hot, when he’s angry. He’s cute, when he’s annoyed.

Murdoc, what is up with Bozer? Be nice to him! I love how he greets them with such fondness. I also love Jack calling him “Doc.” There’s just something cute about there frenemy relationship. Poor Nasha.

Honestly, Murdoc, do you not realize you can’t just demand inspiration? A little patience is called for here. I love Murdoc’s weird speech patterns. “Hashtag disappointed.” “Evil before beauty.” His accent does such an interesting thing right there. It’s cute.

And, evidently, Murdoc does not have a nose like a bloodhound.

Defensive much, Murdoc? Mac, that is not the first time Murdoc has displayed human emotion around you. Far from it.

Wife, ha! That was a shocker.

Poor Nasha. And dayum, Murdoc does clean up pretty! I love it, when Dastmalchian’s characters wear a suit.

Jack, Jack, that is not helping, dude. Yeah, fine, go be action man.

No, Murdoc, it is not surprising that you lied. Of course, I’m personally not surprised you convinced someone to marry you. Good looks and intelligence will get you places.

Wow, Mac, you’re hitting below the belt today. Of course, it’s justified, but it’s unusual for you, bud. Try not to antagonize the stressed out, homicidal parent, too much, though. Heh I love Murdoc’s appreciation of sarcasm in others. It’s good to know he mostly can take what he dishes out.

Christopher Robin! hehehe Does that make Jack Pooh Bear?

What’s scary is Murdoc, murderous as he is, really doesn’t have a temper. He gets impatient and mildly annoyed, often enough, but rarely angry. Him with a temper...yeah, let's not leave Cassian with his mom. Bad idea.

And, wow, she really does not want to discuss custody. Poor Cassian. At least he knows his dad loves him. Macgyver, come on. I know you’re ticked, but the kid really is in a bad spot, here.

Murdoc, you told him to shine. Let him! You know he does stuff for reasons.

That’s one determined woman. Of course, given how the episode ends, maybe she had others take turns doing it. And, again, he USED to admire that about her. Murdoc. Any chance you’re finding better people to admire now? Hmmm?

Reese’s Piecies. LOL Murdoc, you are so strange. Again, give MacGvyer a chance. Does he look like he’s given up? I’m not sure if Murdoc's jealous of Nasha or just reacting badly to everything, because he’s worried about Cassian. Probably both, but I think his worry is fogging his head. He usually keeps up with MacGyver better than this.

“Waste removal.” Rude, Murdoc. I really do love that. “How’s your day going to far? I mean, besides this part, of course.” The banker’s reaction sells that so well. He just does not know what he should say. Humor the lunatic, not humor the lunatic?

Yes, MacGyver speaking Spanish is beyond hot. No, Murdoc, you are not the fun team. To be fair, though, he did handle that sarcasm about the mirror really well. Poor MacGyver just cannot stop with the remarks. I do love the way Lucas Till portrayed him in a state of slowly simmering rage.

Mac, he didn’t kill you, because 1) he never does and 2) you had quit the Phoenix and weren’t a problem for him. I have to say, though, that whole “You’re asking a sociopath his motive for committing murder? That is so cute! Next question!” thing? That seems pretty evasive to me. I’m wondering why Murdoc didn’t want to actually answer. Murdoc just refuses to take this seriously and I don’t think it’s solely because he’s psycho and doesn’t care.

“I want to be your Mona Lisa.” That line is gold, because it can be taken SO many different ways.

And, again, Murdoc saves MacGyver’s life. If he does that one more time, saving Mac’s life is going to outnumber the times Murdoc’s tried to kill him. (I don’t count the kidnapping in X-ray + Penny. I don’t think he intended to kill MacGyver. It was all a ruse to get Fletcher into the Collective.)

This fight scene is so good. Like, Amber, why are you trying to kill your husband? Why so angry? Then, again, this might be a standard greeting between them. Murdoc doesn’t seem especially surprised. And, wowza, that boy is strong. It’s gotta take some strength to swing her around like that into a table!

Yeah, Murdoc, isn’t your wife a better player than that? To just leave the kid unattended and miss that she’s been tailed? Poor MacGyver, having to play referee.

Did they spend an hour just staring at each other challengingly? Ah, the lovely couple snark!

I will always die laughing over “cookie” and “cupcake.” So adorable!

Um, Amber? You don’t get to criticize Murdoc’s parenting skills. Cassian seems like a great kid and he at least has been trying. LOL Poor MacGyver trying to keep two assassins from metaphorically being stabby.

Thirty-five aliases! Ding dang, Murdoc. Okay, really, now you have no excuse to not retire. Also, that comedy au of Murdoc being a landlord with quirky residents makes a bit more sense now.

I have never heard a golf tee called a golf pencil. Murdoc. Hon. You really shouldn’t call other people scum. I mean, you are a paid killer, y’know.

I don’t think Murdoc expected you to be this angry at him. You actually surprised him. And MacGyver’s expressions during Murdoc’s story about meeting Amber is just so much win! Damn, though. I don’t expect MacGyver to care, but I do wonder if he realizes he’s succeeding in hurting Murdoc. I’ll give you dollars to donuts that Murdoc is hiding a world of hurt at being told his son is better off without him. He loves that boy.

Ah, I do love Jack. His skills really are under-rated. Jack, are you taking Bozer’s shoes as compensation for the loss of your cellphones?

Murdoc is such a contradiction. The whole pumping out the air thing is awful, but it really does seem he wanted it to fail. After all, Nasha probably would have died, if he hadn’t put that warning on the rifle mechanism.

Oh, ouch. That little muscle twitch in Murdoc’s cheek! I mean, wow! Dastmalchian is such a fabulous actor and you can just see Murdoc heading for a meltdown. MacGyver, that comment was really unkind, even if it is Murdoc.

I love that except for one comment, MacGyver just lets Murdoc have his little tantrum.

Talk about being made of iron! That’s a messy way to catch up to people. You have to give Murdoc credit for bravery. The dude is badass! He can barely walk, but he takes out three other assassins. Four, if you count that he could have killed Amber.

How many times has Jack or someone asked Murdoc what was wrong with him? Now, it’s Murdoc’s turn to ask someone that. No, Amber, you def were not cut out for motherhood, but, uh, were you betting Murdoc wouldn’t kill you?! You took a heck of a risk, girlie.

Murdoc’s expressions. That wince. You can almost see his brain chewing on itself. He’s so close to a breakdown. At least he had the sense to clean up a bit, before getting to Cassian. I love every time Murdoc and Cassian interact. There is so much love and concern between them. Poor Cassian seeing his dad injured! And Murdoc assuring him and holding his hand. This gives me so many feels! Honestly, I think this is where MacGyver really begins seeing humanity in Murdoc.

Seriously, Murdoc just looks so honestly pleased that Nasha got rescued.

He’s going to jail for the sake of his son. I love that they’re developing his character beyond merely walking evil. I hate that trope. It’s boring, imho. I prefer complexity.

I really think he means it, when he says Matty and MacGyver are two of his favorite people. And, I do wonder. What kinds of preparation are being made to his cell? I have a feeling she means a lot more than just putting out some sheets.

Matty is being so kind, here, really. She’s not cutting him slack, exactly, but she’s being compassionate. I think she gets how hard this is for him. She really is a great character. Oh, Mac. Of course, he’ll get the address.

Uncle? Brothers? Murdoc, you can’t hide forever.

Ah, Mac, you’re finally catching on. Don’t shoot him down too quickly. I have a feeling you’re going to need him and you’re the best influence he’s ever had.

Murdoc, it would really help if you didn’t hide your advice and warnings behind sarcasm.

Oh, Nasha, you don’t know how Mac’s life works. It’s never over and Murdoc will never be gone...I hope.

#macgyver #murdoc #macdoc #murdoc + macgyver +murdoc

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petie-wabbit · 2 years ago

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It may hurt but I'm not giving in.. life ain't defeating me..I cuddnt ever take the cowards way out I'm too head strong plus I've seen where we go as I've hung myself in my 20s n went to a weird place. At least, it felt very real but people say it was just my brain. But when you physically feel shit there it stays with you. That cold cold hand I still feel to this day, especially nowadays, like it pulled me back here now I guess today tryin to pull me back there, The Grey...that's why I have no thoughts of doing anything stupid Besides they say you only repeat till you get thru it without killing yourself..kinda contradictory to the while strong soul n spirit thus why I don't have those thoughts of acting it out. Only frustration n impatience lol (1st lol n awhile ) regardless what does one who has limited mobility depending on the pain that day plus a fibromyalgia fog that hinders all human interactions? How do yall who suffer 24/7 pain live n live productive lives?? I try till pain has me seeing stars n pretty well collapse o the couch for the day or do yall just go n go toll yal just black out? That's a recent thing thats been happening then I gotta rest in anyway I can..DDD sux too as mines inoperable n most likely just cause more pain if they did. plus arthritis is setting in(inherited that shit) How do you cope knowing just being alive is all I got for a future no work no friends no family cuz I can't go out n about. Disability sux wish we were in the Star Trek Era bones wudda had me good as new long ago..beam me up Scotti🛸

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somewhatsanders · 7 years ago

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Smile! (Sanders Sides Angsty Adventures)

Hihi this is my first fic; I write angst now apparently lol Enjoy some wholesome heartbreak, buddies!! Ya know, since I wrote this at 5am, I couldn’t sleep and I felt like all around garbagio.

Please tell me what you think, if there’s anything I should change or something you want me to tag it under!!

Tw: angst, panic attacks, negative self-talk

Pairing: None, but you can interpret it as romantic if that’s what gets you jazzed

Patton was always such a happy guy, his fellow sides have no clue as to how he managed to be so positive all the time. Come rain or sunshine, the Moral facet always wore a smile on his face.

Even on a day like today when everything was just wrongwrongwrong, Patton would be there in an instant, almost as if by instinct, with a big ole smile on his face for them to lean on. It wasn’t even a question if he would always be a support system to rely on and they couldn’t be more thankful to have such a pure ray of sunshine grace their lives.

Virgil’s entire being practically vibrated from the sobs that wracked his body; he was curled up on the floor in a dark corner of his room, breathing unevenly and stuck inside his own little world where everything was a swirling cesspool of negativity. Since he could just never manage to catch a break, even in his lowest moments. his subconscious had elected this to be an appropriate time in which to remind him of his place. Virgil knew what he really was, a disorder. A mistake that people pay good money to get rid of, and Virgil couldn’t blame them. He would get rid of himself too if the roles were reversed. But self-awareness couldn’t stop the ‘pain and oh god I can’t breathe-’ His dug nails deeper into his scalp, tugging harder on his hair, and bit harder into his lower lip in order to silence his pathetic whimpering, for once in his life just wishing he could do something right and keep quiet as to avoid bothering any of the other sides. Heaven knows he caused enough problems for everyone already and he couldn’t risk projecting onto Thomas. However, these efforts only were proven counterproductive as he continued the downwards spiral to self deprecation.

Through the storm clouding his mind, Virgil barely managed to register a presence which purposefully, yet gracefully, entered the room and made his way over to the Anxious trait without making any sudden or loud movements that could startle him, sitting criss-cross on the floor. A familiar voice spoke hushed words of love and encouragement, surrounding him like a warm blanket, “I am so proud of how strong you are for getting through this, kiddo-” Patton. Virgil breathed a sigh of relief as the Fatherly trait he admired and cared about so much not that he would ever admit that out loud guided him through some breathing exercises and grounding techniques that they had previously been working on together. ‘…in for four…’ The fog was gradually beginning to clear after some time and he was slowly coming back to himself. Once his breathing had evened out and his shaking had ceased, the anxious facet could feel himself being picked up off the ground, safely cradled inside a strong pair of arms, and then gently laid onto his bed, being tucked under the covers with as much care as one would when dealing with a porcelain doll. He was numb and a little groggy, but warm inside, something he wasn’t accustom to feeling post-panic attack. He usually would be forced to ride it out until he cried himself to sleep; cold and alone. But having Patton there always did make it easier. Not good, he was never good after an attack, but better. Definitely better. Loved.Patton really was a man too good for this world, but the younger of the two didn’t have enough energy to dwell on such thoughts. Instead, he briefly felt a kiss being pressed upon his brow as he began succumbing into a deep and much-needed slumber. The only thought left on his mind being, ‘How does he manage to keep smiling?’

Logan doesn’t even want to imagine a life without Patton. That ever-present smile brought with it an air of comfort and this swelling in his chest that he originally believed to be Pericarditis the first time it happened; acting as a reminder to him that maybe not all emotions were so bad after all. Yes, he was pure Logic. Yes, he may insist that he was void of emotion- but that was simply a defense mechanism he had fabricated because deep down, Logan worried that if the others knew he could feel, he would no longer be fit to serve his purpose for Thomas. His job was to be objective, the robot. To draw rational conclusions, memorize vocabulary, facts, and formulas- despite having graduated college years ago because indeed Roman, it is utterly critical for them to remember Pythagorean Theorem, how could you be certain we will never use it again? If he were to use feelings within his decision making process; would he even be Logic anymore? Logic and feelings were mortal enemies and polar opposites, the could never work in harmony without some form of motorization, that’s why he was there to begin with, that was the reasoning for his entire existence; at least, that what he told himself. Because even though he serves as a glorified storage facility for any knowledge that Thomas has accumulated over the span of his life, he knows logically that any of the other sides could overtake his position, meaning that he would no longer serve purpose; that is if he even did already. Patton had an astoundingly larger vocabulary than most would give him credit for. Virgil himself played a part in the functions of the Lateral Frontal Pole, a section of the Frontal Lobe dedicated to reasoning, planning and decision-making. Roman, contradictory to what Logan has said before, is smart; he knows Spanish and has the mind power to create anything from a minute paper clip to something as elaborate as the Mind Palace of a dog. Logan couldn’t do any of that, he could scarcely manage to perform the functions of which he was created to do. He was letting them all down. A choir of negativity sung a melody that spoke to his deeply buried insecurities and pulled them to the surface where they could remind him of his faults and cloud his vision.

But where there is darkness, there must also be light. In his case, that light just so happened to be wearing a turquoise polo and khakis. Patton was by his side exactly when he needed him most sporting that smile that he had come to adore. Patton had no qualms with reminding him that having feelings is indeed logical and necessary for him to achieve an optimum level of functionality. Logan remembers Pythagorean Theorem because he cares about his host and wants him to succeed in life. Logan still knows the Rain Forest Rap verbatim because he is passionate about environmental conservation. Logan learns because it makes him happy. Logan is logic. Logic is driven by feelings. He is functioning exactly as he should. That angelic smile never faltered from Patton’s face as he made sure to remind Logan of these facts as much as was necessary without any form of hesitation or a single hint of annoyance to be seen. With a warm embrace that Logan pretended to not enjoy and that his companion seemed to recognize he needed regardless, Logan could finally breathe without restriction because he was important, he was logic, he was allowed to feel, and he felt happy having Patton’s smiling face to melt his ice heart. Yet, he couldn’t help himself from wondering; 'How does he manage to always keep smiling?’

Roman was distraught. Crying was not a very Princely thing to do, but he just couldn’t help himself when all his efforts to do well by Thomas and the other traits, of whom he loved dearly, always seemed to fall short. He would try to produce dreams for Thomas to chase, but they were always unrealistic and unattainable. He only managed to make things worse and set Thomas up for heart break. It was his fault that Thomas and Patton suffered so much after their breakup, because he embodied fanciful thoughts which included their hosts romantic aspirations. Roman put his all into a boy who wasn’t happy with Thomas leading to heartbreak and followed by many months of learning how to put themselves back together after. Even now, long after the end of their relationship, he found himself still fantasizing what it would be like to rekindle their former flame which he was too stupid to let slip into Thomas’s conscious mind which made the healing recovery process begin all over again. Roman had failed them. He was no Prince and he scolded himself for ever trying to villainize Virgil; because he knew the truth. It was Roman himself who was the true villain all along. He merely displaced his own self-loathing onto whomever he possibly could in order to avoid facing a reality that he is now forced to endure. A reality where the truth was that it was he who was the source of everything bad within Thomas. Who was he trying to kid himself, he is the Ego for crying out loud, the source of Thomas’s self-confidence! How is he supposed to embody the self-confidence of a man who has none? He can’t! Everyone assumed that all of Thomas’s insecurities spawned from Virgil, which isn’t wrong but also not necessarily true. The aspects of which each individual side ruled over is much more of a grey area than most seem to realize. Virgil and Logan both embody the left hemisphere of Thomas’s brain, the core of his reasoning. Both provide their own rationale to problems in which they are presented with, some of which aren’t always accompanied the most sound of reasoning Virgil. But in the case of where Roman and said Anxious Angel overlap, they share confidence and self image, or a lack there of. One of the two most assumed to be a narcissistic air-head with an ego so large you would need to buy an extra plane ticket to make room for it in your seat, but that could not be farther from the truth. In fact, as the Creativity it was indeed he himself who had come up with the idea for their 'My Body Negativity’ video.

Roman couldn’t help his bottom lip from quaking or the tears that followed, sliding down his face as he looked in the mirror, hating what he saw in the reflection. That wasn’t a Prince looking back at him, it was a failure. But as he was ready to fall apart, a lovable smile he knew and recognized all too well was right there to put him back together again. Catching him as he collapsed to the ground in despair, Patton aided Roman sin making his way to sit down on the edge of his bed, reciting a list practically the length of 'Order of the Phoenix’ counting off every fantastically wonderful thing about Roman, inside and out, until he was blushing from head to toe and giggling like a child through his depleting tears. The Prince beamed at the praise and admiration showered upon him by the oldest of the Sides. Patton never failed to surprise him with how he could brighten a room, even in the deepest, darkest, depths of the ocean. He couldn’t help himself from asking the man he loved so dearly and thought the world of, “Patton, how do you manage to always keep smiling?” Morality winked back at the Prince and replied “I’ll never tell!”, before briskly exiting the room and giggling as he made his way out.

The closer he got to his room, the giggles had drawn out into heaving sobs that shook him to the very core of his being. Patton finally manage to collapse into his bed within the isolation of his room. A place where he could cry freely without having to burden any of the others, who already had so much weighing down on their shoulder, the poor dears. Their lives were hard enough without having to worry about his stupid feelings. His hands formed fists which tugged at his hair while he curled into a ball, rocking back and forth. Alone. For when you’re always supporting and looking out for others, then who is there to support you?

He was never good enough. He never had been and he never will be. Even when trying his best to do good by Thomas and the other embodiments of his personality, he could never sufficiently do his job to keep everyone happy. He was at the core of Thomas’s cheerful feelings, shouldn’t he be able to at least manage this without ruining everything for his companions?

Useless.

Unlovable.

Incompetent.

Childish.

Irresponsible.

How can you manage to always smile when you destroy everything you touch?

In between sobs and dry heaving from becoming so choked up, Patton contrived a faint whisper for no one else to hear; “That’s the secret… I don’t.”

But what the others don’t know can’t hurt them, right?

@lilbeanblr

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