#this video idea haunted me in class today

[blogurlnotfound]

Drumming - Doctor Who x Reader

hiii this is my first fic in about 4 years probably :) this is obviously a new account, so yeah that's why there's nothing else here. um anyways, i definitely got incredibly carried away with this, did not have an idea going into it (still think it ended up great), 12 is probably out of character, and i somehow wrote it in under 3 hours??

anyway, I hope it's enjoyable! and please let me know your thoughts :)

12th Doctor x Reader

(really student/professor but can be romantic or platonic, whatever vibes you catch.)

Word Count: 2,600+

Summary: You have been hearing a drumming in your head. One, two, three, four. It's been affecting your mental state, and you haven't been to class in a while. Maybe your professor, The Doctor, is able to help figure this out?

Warnings: mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts. any gender reader, but makeup mentioned.

A drumming had been haunting you for months as you slept.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

It would sound non-stop until you couldn't bear it any longer, and woke up. Every time you would wake up the same: in a cold sweat, panting, with tear streaks running down your face.

Each day the drumming's effect on you grew. It was affecting your mental state immensely. You felt a deep pain and sadness hanging over you like a cloud most days. You wouldn't be able to get out of bed, much less go to classes. You weren't hungry often, and couldn't eat when you were. You avoided your friends and your schoolwork, occasionally texting your parents to keep them from worrying.

You weren't sure if your professors noticed your absences. They hadn't reached out to you in any way. It's not like they'd notice you in the sea of students. They must see hundreds a day anyways.

It's not like anybody would notice you anyway. At least that's what the drumming would whisper to you.

One, two, three, four.

You keep to yourself. Don't have any close friends in your classes, and not many close friends at school in general. Nobody really knew who you were. Your favorite color. Childhood pets. How long it takes you to sleep. How often you're awoken by the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

Nobody would notice if you're gone.

One, two, three, four.

They don't even notice when you're there.

One, two, three, four.

-+-

You wake up. In a cold sweat. Panting. You reach both your hands to your face and rub your palms on your cheeks. Tears were cleared from your face and now sat on your hands. You sit up and release a heavy sigh. It's like the sigh has been waiting to escape all night. Like your body was relieved to be released from the nightmare drumming.

You decide to get out of bed, an easier decision than previous day's had been. You stretch your limbs and yawn. You walk to the bathroom and face your reflection. Today was going to be okay.

Or will it be.

One, two, three, four.

"It will be. Today will be okay." You affirmed to yourself in the mirror. You let out another sigh, smiled at yourself softly, and began your morning routine.

You do your make-up while watching a video. You found that taking the time to do your make-up gave you time to relax, breathe, and be yourself. You felt better about your days when you take this extra time to yourself in the morning. So, whenever you manage to get out of bed, you try to manage doing make-up too.

The video you watched was just of some guy unnecessarily analyzing a TV show you liked. He went into extreme detail about small details from the show and created theories about why certain things happened and what might happen next. You enjoyed his content. He reminded you of one of your professors.

He was a very kind old man who you can tell cares deeply about everything he talks about. He has a Scottish accent that somehow grows stronger with excitement. He's enthusiastic and rambles, and never really has a set course of taking points. He just lets his mind and his heart lead him. Saying whatever he finds most awestrucking and veering off topic drastically. In fact, you weren't really sure what the class was meant to be about.

The course description when signing up simply said, "Discussion-based class, humanities topics." The syllabus was no extra help, practically said the same thing with all the extra school required information listed. But it fulfilled your humanities credit, and the first day was interesting enough, so you stayed in the class.

Thinking about the professor, The Doctor, just The Doctor, made you want to go to his class. You checked the time on your phone. It did start in a little over two hours. You finished getting ready and then waited.

You waited maybe fifteen minutes before getting bored. You quickly put your bag together and walked out your door, then your building, into the outside would. It had been at least thirty-two hours since you were last outside. The air felt cool against your skin, reviving your senses and making you softly smile to yourself. You could hear the wind rustle the branches of nearby trees that swayed. Somehow, these trees looked the same as ever, and more beautiful than ever.

You turn around in a full circle and take in the Earth around you. She really is beautiful. You don't sit with her enough.

With new energy in your body, the dark cloud caused by the drumming smaller than ever, you walk around your campus mindlessly. Every step you take grounds you to the Earth, reminding you that the drumming can't be real.

One, two, three, four.

It isn't real.

-+-

You take a seat in the auditorium where The Doctor's class is held. You gently place your bag on the floor next to you and wait as the seats pile up. Five minutes later the room is almost full, and the tall man with short grey hair walks in, greeting the class with a Scottish, "Hello!" as he places his bag down and immediately starts writing on the chalkboard.

"Music." is written on the board. He swiftly turns around on his heel. He stops and makes direct eye contact with you. He stares for a moment, a twinkle in his eye. He diverts his attention from you and begins speaking,

"So," he clasps his hands, "who wants to tell me the importance of music to humanity?"

Hands shoot up all around you. You had been missing a fun class.

-+-

The class ends and you have a beaming smile on your face. You hadn't realized truly how fun and entrancing The Doctor was. Every student was hooked on his every word, waiting for what insane piece of information would come flying out of his mouth next. Every student including you.

The class was packing their bags and leaving around you. You heard groups starting to chat. Friends laughing loudly.

You don't have friends like that here. Your smile falls.

One, two, three, four.

A tap on the wooden desk in front of you wakes you from your thoughts, a Scottish voice accompanying it, "Are you okay, y/n? I noticed you haven't been to class in a while."

You looked up at The Doctor, no doubt admiration for him and sadness from your thoughts filling your eyes. He could read your eyes. He could read the pain and the sadness. He's felt it before.

"You noticed?" You stifled out.

"Of course I noticed." His face softened, "All of my students are important to me."

"But there's so many of us?"

"So?"

You didn't have a response to that. You suppose he was right. You just looked down at your bag, grabbed it, and started to stand up.

"Would you like to come into my office?"

You looked at him, confused and shocked.

"Just for lunch and to discuss whatever is going on. If you'd like." You look at him, still confused. Your head cocks slightly to one side, and your mouth begins to open, but The Doctor beats you to it, "I lost a student not too long ago. Her name was Bill. Bill Potts. I miss her a lot, you see, she was more than just my student. She was also my friend. She made me better. I can see her in you, and I would hate to... " He pauses, "I'm just worried about how many classes you've missed. You may not be able to pass my course."

You're really confused now. The gears are turning in your head, processing his confession of loss turned into you not passing the class. The Doctor can see the gears turning on your face, in the way your eyebrows scrunch intensely and your pupils move back and forth. You close your eyes, relax your face, and look at him with a smile.

"I would like to go to your office, yeah. Thank you." Your eyes are sincere, and when you meet his, so are they.

You follow him a short ways through campus to his office. His steps and your steps opposite. Like the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

You try to ignore it. You try really hard but can't. You stop walking, and the drumming stops. You sigh in relief, The Doctor looks back at you with concern.

"Sorry," you say, catching up to him with a smile, "I thought I saw something."

"Like what?" He asks, curiosity filling his face.

"Oh, nothing." You weren't expecting him to ask. You didn't know what to say.

He hums in response, picking up pace until you're at his office. It's a huge room with a desk in the middle, you take a seat on one side of it while The Doctor sits opposite. He has many picture frames on his desk, and a mysterious blue police box in the corner you can't take your eyes off.

One, two, three, four.

"What's that?" you ask, pointing at the box before you can help yourself.

"A police box. It's from London in the 60's. I'm a bit of a collector of sorts."

He had this lie down pat. But you could tell he wasn't being truthful, you didn't know how, but you knew. You didn't press on about the box. You just nodded and smiled, "That's cool."

He nodded too. "Let's talk about why you've been missing class. Is everything okay back home? Anything I can do to help?"

One, two, three, four.

Something compelled you to be honest with him. Again, you didn't know what. He felt familiar. Of course you've known him the whole semester, but it felt more than that. You feel safe. You feel seen. You feel known. You knew when he lied to you just a second ago, but why?

One, two, three, four.

"Can I be honest?" you make eye contact with him, "Like, you won't lock me up in the looney bin for being crazy?" He's about to say something but you interrupt him, "And won't get me kicked out of the school or, or, I don't know, send me off to get government testing?"

He's confused now. But curious too. You can tell he's interested in what you're saying, he wants to know more. It doesn't feel like he's going to judge you. "Yes, you can be honest. You can trust me."

"Promise?" You hold out your pinky. Sure it's silly, but silly makes it more meaningful, more powerful, somehow.

He chuckles and interlocks your pinkies, "Promise."

"Okay." You stop to think.

One, two, three, four.

"So I have this noise in my head."

One, two, three, four.

"It's like drumming. One, two, three, four."

One, two, three, four.

The Doctor stiffens. "And it won't stop, Doctor." you continue. "And it's like it's affecting my thoughts. They're all negative and I'm depressed and it hurts. It really hurts, Doctor." Tears are streaming down your face. You weren't even aware talking about this would make you cry. And you didn't know why you told The Doctor about it.

After a moment of thinking, The Doctor moves from his chair and towards you. His movements are stiff. As if he's nervous. He knows something you don't. He leans down and wraps his arms around you, your head at his chest. You cry harder, and he pulls you closer in comfort.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming was louder than ever. In your head and in your ears. It's not scary anymore though. You move your head away from The Doctor to release you from the hug. The drumming stops. You reach out to his chest without asking, without thinking.

On your hand you feel two heartbeats.

One, two, three, four.

You put your other hand to your own heart. Only one heartbeat. One, two.

Why did he have two heartbeats. One, two, three, four. Why was his the drumming.

"Why-" you start, but need to close your eyes and breathe, "Why does your heart sound like the drumming. Why do you have two heartbeats?"

"Follow me." He walked to the blue police box, opened the door and went inside. You sat there for a moment stunned. Then you cleared your face from your tears and got up. You made your way towards the box, looking at the door before walking inside.

You looked around in amazement. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your face broke out into a huge grin. You ran outside and back inside. "This defies all laws of physics! How is it-? It's?" You looked at him expectantly.

"C'mon, I know you want to say it." He had an equally bright, shit-eating grin.

"It's bigger on the inside!"

He laughed with his whole chest and body. His laugh was contagious.

"This," he gestures around the room, "is my T.A.R.D.I.S. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. And I'm a Time-Lord from the planet Gallifrey. We have two hearts, hence the two heartbeats."

You look at him; confusion, amazement, admiration and more displayed on your face.

"Now I don't know why you're hearing my species' heartbeats in your head, but I'm going to figure it out." He looks at you and smiles, you can't help but smile back, "If you want to come with me?"

"With you where?" you ask.

"Anywhere! In the whole wide universe. Not really sure where to start to help you though. Or when for that matter?"

You've never been so confused so many times in the span of one day. "But I have other classes? And don't you too?" Something clicks in your brain, "And what about my parents? And I barely know you! No offense, Doctor. I can't go traveling with someone I don't know."

"If anyone can help you, y/n, it's me. There might not be anyone else in the whole universe." You look at him, desperate now after hearing his words. "And as for your other classes and your family- TARDIS, t," he said, dragging out the sound, "stands for time. She's a time machine. Can take you right back to this moment." He smiled confidently, and made his way towards the center of the room where some sort of console was. He puts his hands on a lever, and looks at you again.

"What?" You asked, awestruck.

"Let me show you." Mischief flashes across his face, but you can tell it's more childlike than malicious. Which is odd for a man who is likely in his sixties.

A whirring sound comes from the center. The door slams shut and the lights start fluctuating. You find it hard to steady yourself as the floor becomes unstable.

"Grab onto something!" The Doctor yells. You do, a railing a few feet away. You grab on tight and try to stand up right. The Doctor is laughing with joy.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming in your head is drowned out by the TARDIS whirring. The whirring sound would soon become a new comfort. And the TARDIS a new home. And The Doctor, he would soon become the most special and fantastic person in your life.

You knew today was going to be a good day. And there are thousands more to come. Thousands more with The Doctor.

He was going to stop the drumming in your head, no matter what he had to do.

[sageglitch]

okay so this is by no means a "final draft" by my standards but i had a class assignment to make an opening credits sequence to a film and i tried to visualize creating one for @mothercain's preacher's daughter album if it was a film. tried the best i could with the videos i could find from youtube and created this shit from scratch so hope you enjoy <3 (also yea i made this a few months ago but i forgot my tumblr login until today so finally i can post on here again)

more info:

i wanted it to have something like a late 90s early 2000s straight to vhs movie, hence all the static and shit, and i wanted to mix together a lot of scenery of old backwater towns i spent a lot of time driving through since ive lived in the south basically my whole life. i didnt have a lot of footage i made that i could use but thankfully there was a guy on youtube who's entire channel is basically driving through these unseen towns so if i can ever remember his channels name i will give credits to him for those clips. i also spent a lot of time in old baptist church's since i was a choir kid, (including an old one in MS that still had the upper levels from slavery/jim crow era), but even the newer ones i went to in texas had this very haunting and forgotten feeling to them even though they were being actively used. as for the sound mixing, i was originally going to have this project be a lot longer so the clips didnt feel as fast and the music would have this really cool doubling effect between Family Tree (Intro) and Family Tree synched up perfectly, but my professor made me trim down the project from about 4-5 minutes to the length it's at now, so i had to unfortunately remove that and re-mix the audio to just Family Tree (Intro) and Strangers.

now, for the meat industry clips. basically, i knew there was no way i would be able to do outright gore, and i particularly didnt want to, as i felt it wouldnt unsettle the audience as much as i would want, and rather would just disgust them. so i decided, with my bundles of knowledge on the meat packing industry from the novel The Jungle, it would serve very well to unsettle the audience and mix together these ideas of a sacrificial lamb being no more than a piece of meat to the ones who sacrifice for the joy of sacrifice and not for the meaning behind it (if that makes sense). these clips were free-use sourced from old ass documentaries i found on youtube about the chicago meat packing industry primarily, and i think it does a good job at adding to the horror side element without being outright gratuitous.

and of course, many of the clips come from ethel's youtube as well, though id imagine you can tell which ones those are. there was a lot of content i found from her youtube, and i later found some older clips that no longer are posted on hayden's channel, but i figured i'd rather stick with the one's she has available as to not draw attention to clips she might not want people seeing.

theres also a few clips from possibly in michigan in there. one, because i love possibly in michigan. two, because it does a lot to add to this older film/vhs ambiance that i tried to recreate (very shittily mind you. i dont know how to use after effects very well).

hope you enjoy <3

[blogurlnotfoundwhoops]

Doctor Who x Reader

PLEASE READ HERE :)

hiii this is my first fic in about 4 years probably :) this is obviously a new account, so yeah that's why there's nothing else here. um anyways, i definitely got incredibly carried away with this, did not have an idea going into it (still think it ended up great), 12 is probably out of character, and i somehow wrote it in under 3 hours??

anyway, I hope it's enjoyable! and please let me know your thoughts :)

12th Doctor x Reader

(really student/professor but can be romantic or platonic, whatever vibes you catch.)

Word Count: 2,600+

Summary: You have been hearing a drumming in your head. One, two, three, four. It's been affecting your mental state, and you haven't been to class in a while. Maybe your professor, The Doctor, is able to help figure this out?

Warnings: mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts.

A drumming had been haunting you for months as you slept.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

It would sound non-stop until you couldn't bear it any longer, and woke up. Every time you would wake up the same: in a cold sweat, panting, with tear streaks running down your face.

Each day the drumming's effect on you grew. It was affecting your mental state immensely. You felt a deep pain and sadness hanging over you like a cloud most days. You wouldn't be able to get out of bed, much less go to classes. You weren't hungry often, and couldn't eat when you were. You avoided your friends and your schoolwork, occasionally texting your parents to keep them from worrying.

You weren't sure if your professors noticed your absences. They hadn't reached out to you in any way. It's not like they'd notice you in the sea of students. They must see hundreds a day anyways.

It's not like anybody would notice you anyway. At least that's what the drumming would whisper to you.

One, two, three, four.

You keep to yourself. Don't have any close friends in your classes, and not many close friends at school in general. Nobody really knew who you were. Your favorite color. Childhood pets. How long it takes you to sleep. How often you're awoken by the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

Nobody would notice if you're gone.

One, two, three, four.

They don't even notice when you're there.

One, two, three, four.

-+-

You wake up. In a cold sweat. Panting. You reach both your hands to your face and rub your palms on your cheeks. Tears were cleared from your face and now sat on your hands. You sit up and release a heavy sigh. It's like the sigh has been waiting to escape all night. Like your body was relieved to be released from the nightmare drumming.

You decide to get out of bed, an easier decision than previous day's had been. You stretch your limbs and yawn. You walk to the bathroom and face your reflection. Today was going to be okay.

Or will it be.

One, two, three, four.

"It will be. Today will be okay." You affirmed to yourself in the mirror. You let out another sigh, smiled at yourself softly, and began your morning routine.

You do your make-up while watching a video. You found that taking the time to do your make-up gave you time to relax, breathe, and be yourself. You felt better about your days when you take this extra time to yourself in the morning. So, whenever you manage to get out of bed, you try to manage doing make-up too.

The video you watched was just of some guy unnecessarily analyzing a TV show you liked. He went into extreme detail about small details from the show and created theories about why certain things happened and what might happen next. You enjoyed his content. He reminded you of one of your professors.

He was a very kind old man who you can tell cares deeply about everything he talks about. He has a Scottish accent that somehow grows stronger with excitement. He's enthusiastic and rambles, and never really has a set course of taking points. He just lets his mind and his heart lead him. Saying whatever he finds most awestrucking and veering off topic drastically. In fact, you weren't really sure what the class was meant to be about.

The course description when signing up simply said, "Discussion-based class, humanities topics." The syllabus was no extra help, practically said the same thing with all the extra school required information listed. But it fulfilled your humanities credit, and the first day was interesting enough, so you stayed in the class.

Thinking about the professor, The Doctor, just The Doctor, made you want to go to his class. You checked the time on your phone. It did start in a little over two hours. You finished getting ready and then waited.

You waited maybe fifteen minutes before getting bored. You quickly put your bag together and walked out your door, then your building, into the outside would. It had been at least thirty-two hours since you were last outside. The air felt cool against your skin, reviving your senses and making you softly smile to yourself. You could hear the wind rustle the branches of nearby trees that swayed. Somehow, these trees looked the same as ever, and more beautiful than ever.

You turn around in a full circle and take in the Earth around you. She really is beautiful. You don't sit with her enough.

With new energy in your body, the dark cloud caused by the drumming smaller than ever, you walk around your campus mindlessly. Every step you take grounds you to the Earth, reminding you that the drumming can't be real.

One, two, three, four.

It isn't real.

-+-

You take a seat in the auditorium where The Doctor's class is held. You gently place your bag on the floor next to you and wait as the seats pile up. Five minutes later the room is almost full, and the tall man with short grey hair walks in, greeting the class with a Scottish, "Hello!" as he places his bag down and immediately starts writing on the chalkboard.

"Music." is written on the board. He swiftly turns around on his heel. He stops and makes direct eye contact with you. He stares for a moment, a twinkle in his eye. He diverts his attention from you and begins speaking,

"So," he clasps his hands, "who wants to tell me the importance of music to humanity?"

Hands shoot up all around you. You had been missing a fun class.

-+-

The class ends and you have a beaming smile on your face. You hadn't realized truly how fun and entrancing The Doctor was. Every student was hooked on his every word, waiting for what insane piece of information would come flying out of his mouth next. Every student including you.

The class was packing their bags and leaving around you. You heard groups starting to chat. Friends laughing loudly.

You don't have friends like that here. Your smile falls.

One, two, three, four.

A tap on the wooden desk in front of you wakes you from your thoughts, a Scottish voice accompanying it, "Are you okay, y/n? I noticed you haven't been to class in a while."

You looked up at The Doctor, no doubt admiration for him and sadness from your thoughts filling your eyes. He could read your eyes. He could read the pain and the sadness. He's felt it before.

"You noticed?" You stifled out.

"Of course I noticed." His face softened, "All of my students are important to me."

"But there's so many of us?"

"So?"

You didn't have a response to that. You suppose he was right. You just looked down at your bag, grabbed it, and started to stand up.

"Would you like to come into my office?"

You looked at him, confused and shocked.

"Just for lunch and to discuss whatever is going on. If you'd like." You look at him, still confused. Your head cocks slightly to one side, and your mouth begins to open, but The Doctor beats you to it, "I lost a student not too long ago. Her name was Bill. Bill Potts. I miss her a lot, you see, she was more than just my student. She was also my friend. She made me better. I can see her in you, and I would hate to... " He pauses, "I'm just worried about how many classes you've missed. You may not be able to pass my course."

You're really confused now. The gears are turning in your head, processing his confession of loss turned into you not passing the class. The Doctor can see the gears turning on your face, in the way your eyebrows scrunch intensely and your pupils move back and forth. You close your eyes, relax your face, and look at him with a smile.

"I would like to go to your office, yeah. Thank you." Your eyes are sincere, and when you meet his, so are they.

You follow him a short ways through campus to his office. His steps and your steps opposite. Like the drumming.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

You try to ignore it. You try really hard but can't. You stop walking, and the drumming stops. You sigh in relief, The Doctor looks back at you with concern.

"Sorry," you say, catching up to him with a smile, "I thought I saw something."

"Like what?" He asks, curiosity filling his face.

"Oh, nothing." You weren't expecting him to ask. You didn't know what to say.

He hums in response, picking up pace until you're at his office. It's a huge room with a desk in the middle, you take a seat on one side of it while The Doctor sits opposite. He has many picture frames on his desk, and a mysterious blue police box in the corner you can't take your eyes off.

One, two, three, four.

"What's that?" you ask, pointing at the box before you can help yourself.

"A police box. It's from London in the 60's. I'm a bit of a collector of sorts."

He had this lie down pat. But you could tell he wasn't being truthful, you didn't know how, but you knew. You didn't press on about the box. You just nodded and smiled, "That's cool."

He nodded too. "Let's talk about why you've been missing class. Is everything okay back home? Anything I can do to help?"

One, two, three, four.

Something compelled you to be honest with him. Again, you didn't know what. He felt familiar. Of course you've known him the whole semester, but it felt more than that. You feel safe. You feel seen. You feel known. You knew when he lied to you just a second ago, but why?

One, two, three, four.

"Can I be honest?" you make eye contact with him, "Like, you won't lock me up in the looney bin for being crazy?" He's about to say something but you interrupt him, "And won't get me kicked out of the school or, or, I don't know, send me off to get government testing?"

He's confused now. But curious too. You can tell he's interested in what you're saying, he wants to know more. It doesn't feel like he's going to judge you. "Yes, you can be honest. You can trust me."

"Promise?" You hold out your pinky. Sure it's silly, but silly makes it more meaningful, more powerful, somehow.

He chuckles and interlocks your pinkies, "Promise."

"Okay." You stop to think.

One, two, three, four.

"So I have this noise in my head."

One, two, three, four.

"It's like drumming. One, two, three, four."

One, two, three, four.

The Doctor stiffens. "And it won't stop, Doctor." you continue. "And it's like it's affecting my thoughts. They're all negative and I'm depressed and it hurts. It really hurts, Doctor." Tears are streaming down your face. You weren't even aware talking about this would make you cry. And you didn't know why you told The Doctor about it.

After a moment of thinking, The Doctor moves from his chair and towards you. His movements are stiff. As if he's nervous. He knows something you don't. He leans down and wraps his arms around you, your head at his chest. You cry harder, and he pulls you closer in comfort.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming was louder than ever. In your head and in your ears. It's not scary anymore though. You move your head away from The Doctor to release you from the hug. The drumming stops. You reach out to his chest without asking, without thinking.

On your hand you feel two heartbeats.

One, two, three, four.

You put your other hand to your own heart. Only one heartbeat. One, two.

Why did he have two heartbeats. One, two, three, four. Why was his the drumming.

"Why-" you start, but need to close your eyes and breathe, "Why does your heart sound like the drumming. Why do you have two heartbeats?"

"Follow me." He walked to the blue police box, opened the door and went inside. You sat there for a moment stunned. Then you cleared your face from your tears and got up. You made your way towards the box, looking at the door before walking inside.

You looked around in amazement. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Your face broke out into a huge grin. You ran outside and back inside. "This defies all laws of physics! How is it-? It's?" You looked at him expectantly.

"C'mon, I know you want to say it." He had an equally bright, shit-eating grin.

"It's bigger on the inside!"

He laughed with his whole chest and body. His laugh was contagious.

"This," he gestures around the room, "is my T.A.R.D.I.S. Time And Relative Dimension In Space. And I'm a Time-Lord from the planet Gallifrey. We have two hearts, hence the two heartbeats."

You look at him; confusion, amazement, admiration and more displayed on your face.

"Now I don't know why you're hearing my species' heartbeats in your head, but I'm going to figure it out." He looks at you and smiles, you can't help but smile back, "If you want to come with me?"

"With you where?" you ask.

"Anywhere! In the whole wide universe. Not really sure where to start to help you though. Or when for that matter?"

You've never been so confused so many times in the span of one day. "But I have other classes? And don't you too?" Something clicks in your brain, "And what about my parents? And I barely know you! No offense, Doctor. I can't go traveling with someone I don't know."

"If anyone can help you, y/n, it's me. There might not be anyone else in the whole universe." You look at him, desperate now after hearing his words. "And as for your other classes and your family- TARDIS, t," he said, dragging out the sound, "stands for time. She's a time machine. Can take you right back to this moment." He smiled confidently, and made his way towards the center of the room where some sort of console was. He puts his hands on a lever, and looks at you again.

"What?" You asked, awestruck.

"Let me show you." Mischief flashes across his face, but you can tell it's more childlike than malicious. Which is odd for a man who is likely in his sixties.

A whirring sound comes from the center. The door slams shut and the lights start fluctuating. You find it hard to steady yourself as the floor becomes unstable.

"Grab onto something!" The Doctor yells. You do, a railing a few feet away. You grab on tight and try to stand up right. The Doctor is laughing with joy.

One, two, three, four.

The drumming in your head is drowned out by the TARDIS whirring. The whirring sound would soon become a new comfort. And the TARDIS a new home. And The Doctor, he would soon become the most special and fantastic person in your life.

You knew today was going to be a good day. And there are thousands more to come. Thousands more with The Doctor.

He was going to stop the drumming in your head, no matter what he had to do.

[pleathewrites]

bellow the fire into my deadened lungs

chapter 5 excerpt — class 1a resigns + ua traitor reveal read full story here

Out of the Top 100 Heroes in Japan, over half of them resigned in solidarity. 

The ones who don’t will be remembered as the ones who failed the oath they had taken when accepting their role in a society that is ready to move on from needing them. The large handful of those Dabi had laid out crimes against in his video reveal and interrogation will sit in their jail cells awaiting their court hearings with the only thoughts of, ‘where did I go wrong?’

To everyone’s surprise, it is Bakugou Katsuki who walks up to take the microphone from the last resigning Pro-Hero. 

He scans millions of eyes and takes the plunge. 

“Most of you who know me probably only have shit things to say about me,” He starts, and the image of his homeroom teacher pinching the bridge of his nose brings out a snort that reverberates a bit too loudly through the various speakers connected to the microphone, “And to be honest, there’s probably a whole lotta truth in there.”

Katsuki tunes out the questioning murmurs of the crowd and only looks for the one person he’d never answered.

“A really good guy asked me recently if I still wanted to be a hero after a lecture Aizawa-sensei had given about the shitty truth of how criminals are created.” 

Eijirou’s wide eyes and ungelled hair give Katsuki the strength he’s been lacking for so long. 

“I used to idolize All Might — Yagi-san — because he was the best. I used to believe that being the best meant I had to do everything possible to get that place. I used to believe that being the best meant I could behave in any way I wanted — that I earned it, and thus, I deserved it. The guy we’re all here for saw that.”

Katsuki remembers wanting to murder Dabi at one point, for all the ugly truths patchwork lips had spit at him.

“The memories I have of Dabi — Todoroki Touya — they’re all over the place, honestly,” Katsuki looks at the grieving mother of the man who’d kidnapped him, haunted him for months, and then forgave him. He wonders who he would have been with a mother like that — wonders what kind of man Touya could have become under a woman with so much love held in her eyes, the kind of love Katsuki had craved the minute he was born.

“I think your son might have saved my life, Himura-san,” He tells her honestly, and bows. 

When he rises, his eyes catch a poster that stops his heart. Kemuri Hashiga and Nagai Tesaki hold a large smiling picture of Tsubasa flying — dragon wings that contrast brightly against the springtime sky hold his round little body over their middle school playground. Kemuri’s sharp grin rivals Eijirou’s proudest one and Nagai’s eyes shine with a fierce glint Katsuki hasn’t seen on the boy in such a long time. 

He nods to them and holds Tsubasa in his heart when he turns back to the warmth of Eijirou’s gaze, “I have my answer for you now. I don’t wanna be a hero, because I don’t like what the idea of it brought out of me. But I wanna do good, and I’m gonna be the best at it,” He grins at the pair of toothy laughter he can only faintly hear from how far he stands from it, “I resign from bein’ a hero, or whatever. But, that doesn’t mean you won’t see me around. Y’here that! To all the villains who came out today,” He raises his hand to point to the crowd and sees Eijirou start to run towards him, “I’m gonna take care of y’all till you bleed!”  

“Okay!” Eijirou grabs the microphone out of Katsuki’s hands, eyes wide and frantic before he sends a sheepish grin to the slightly frightened crowd, “He means that in a totally, non-violent, metaphoric–metaphorical? way,” and sends a stern look to Katsuki that says, ‘we’ve talked about this, man,’ but the smile can’t seem to be swiped off his face.

The crowd seems to get it, though, because there’s laughter in the air for the first time. Even their homeroom teacher seems to be suspiciously hiding a fond smile behind his signature scarf.

“Um,” Eijirou starts, his insecurities bubbling up inside his chest as he takes in the waiting eyes of the crowd. He can’t believe the myriad of unique faces he’s seen today — quirks of all kinds, people of all kinds. The gratitude he feels in being able to witness the bravery of such people takes the heat off the moment, simmers the voice in his head that tries to convince him he’s not good enough, and stops it from boiling over. 

The scent of caramel tickles his nose before Katsuki’s warm hand settles over his shoulder. When Eijirou turns his head to see Katsuki’s encouraging smile, he holds his hand out and waits for nitrogen palms to wrap around his own.

“Bakugou doesn’t talk very nicely about himself,” He tells the crowd, “but he always makes sure I do. He’s the manliest dude I know — he’s kind, and determined, and he’s definitely the reason half our class is passing,” The crowd laughs and Katsuki squeezes his hand in appreciation, “I trust him with my life, and you can trust him to care about yours.”

“Tell us about yours!” Someone deep in the crowd shouts.

He didn’t expect to be put on the spot like this, he really just wanted to save Katsuki from being misunderstood. However, he cannot deny how fast his heart beats at his friend’s — ‘maybe more, one day.’ — bravery. Katsuki is always so damn inspiring.

“Oh, um, well,” Eijirou laughs nervously, “I, uh… Heh. Well, I used to believe that because I didn’t have a flashy quirk, I wasn’t worthy of having a place in this society. But when my friend saved me from an attack, she inspired me.”

Mina sends him a proud smile from where she’s pushed through the crowd to stand before him. The whole class of 1A has come close to the front.

Eijirou straightens his spine, “I started to research heroes and found out about Crimson Riot, who had a similar quirk to mine. He quickly became my idol. Through my hero identity, I’ve tried to pay tribute to him. I reinvented myself — started dying my hair and even chose a hero name close to his. I am extremely grateful to have had the opportunity to attend UA and meet some really manly people along the way.”

There are some confused, high-pitched responses of, ‘manly?’

“Tch,” Katsuki leans in to speak into the microphone, “It’s a gender-neutral term of all things good for the idiot,” but his fond smile doesn’t cause any further confusion for the crowd.

“Yeah,” Eijirou giggles, “But, yeah, anyways… I think surrounding myself with so many amazing heroes made me blind to everyone else. Somewhere along the way, I think I convinced myself that being a good hero was equal to being a good person — a good man.

“Crimson Riot said that chivalry is all about living with no regrets. And I don’t want to regret this moment, and so, I don’t think I’ll regret my decision to resign from my dream of being a hero — figuring out who Kirishima Eijirou is, outside of Red Riot. And even though he’s gone, I think Crimson would’ve called this day the manliest moment in history.”

The applause brings a — ‘very manly!’ — tear to Eijrou’s eyes. 

One by one, the entire class of 1A resigns their status as hero students with the promise to strive towards social reform. 

Yaoyorozu Momo — “I actually wanted to be an engineer when my quirk manifested, but my parents always viewed hero-work to be more rewarding. However, I’m thankful I attended UA because I wouldn’t have met all the wonderful people who put their trust in me to lead them. But I cannot lie — being a female hero under the male-gaze… I hate it. I guess I just never felt like I had the ‘right’ to. I used to be a tom-boy, would you believe that?”

Ojiro Mashirao — “It kinda sucks, bein’ a heteromorph. People always tryin’ to touch my tail and askin’ me what I can do with it. Makes a guy wanna prove somethin’, y’know? So, I guess… When I saw the kinda life heteromorphic heroes led, the respect on their name, I got envious. I still wanna work in rescue, though — natural disasters, I’m hopin’ after today.” 

Jirou Kyouka — “Ever since I was a kid, I saw how my family was often ridiculed for pursuing music. We struggled a lot, but they… They would sing me to sleep and, uhm, teach me whatever instrument I wanted to know. I used to hide it, thought it had nothing to do with heroism and so it wasn’t important, but my classmates — Bakugou mostly, if you’d believe it — encouraged me. There’s a lot of power in music. Therapeutic. I think I wanna share that the most with the world.” 

Kouda Kouji — “Hi… Is there a deaf-and-mute translator? Ah, thank you! ‘Animals are my favorite creatures to speak with — birds and foxes especially! They have so much to say, I think it’s because they see so much of our lives. Humans, though… They used to run away from me. I think it’s because of how I look. I don’t understand how, in a quirk-society like this, we still have so many biases based on looks alone. I hate violence, and so far, heroism has felt like nothing but. I think… from now on though — witnessing this turn-out — I’d like to start working with humans again. Talking like this, peaceful and honest. I want to live in a world that works with nature instead of domineering over it.’”

Ashido Mina — “I used to think being a hero was all about hiding your anxieties — show no fear and slap on a smile for the cameras, for the kids, for everyone else just as scared as you. I think… When you’re so used to masking your own fears, you forget everyone else’s. I used to believe villains weren’t capable of fear, but now… I think I’m starting to get it — that it’s their ignored fear that creates them, pushes them to that point of villainy. I honestly need to think about what I’m gonna do from now on, but I have a feeling a lot of opportunities are gonna pop up in the next few years, and I don’t see myself picking just one. And to quote Blasty, I’m gonna kick ass doin’ it!”

Kaminari Denki — “Sensei gave us some homework a few days ago to write a reflection about the ways we can work towards villain prevention and, like, rehabilitation. I, uh, heh, think mine might’ve been the shortest paper. Every time I use my quirk into overload, a bit of my brain kinda fwoomps away and… makes things harder and harder to read and concentrate on. I used to think it was worth it, y’know, like — ‘who needs a workin’ brain when you’re riskin’ your life to save people?’ But, uh… obviously, it scares me now to think that was a standard I put on myself.”

Uraraka Ochako — “Admittedly, I wanted to make a lot’a money — guess that’s normal for people who don’t grow up havin’ any. Makin’ money isn’t really gonna help other kids who have none, though. I never thought a girl like me would learn to fight the way I can now, and it kills me to think about all the girls and women who cannot fight for themselves, who work like hell to survive cycles of abuse ‘n poverty… And! That’s where I wanna put my efforts!”

Satou Rikidou — “I’m a baker’s boy at heart. My classmates actually, heh, set ‘round a time each week for me to bake ‘em somethin’ new — call it ‘Sugar Time’. Funny ‘cause I actually need sugar to survive — a lot of it. Parents learned how to bake early on because the store-bought sweets’re too expensive. In class, Aizawa-sensei brought up how the things we need to live ain’t free, ‘n it made me think about what kinda life I would’a had if I didn’t have parents who were able t’bake for me, or didn’t have parents at all… Mama, Baba, I’m real thankful for everythin’ you’ve done for me t’get me here, but I just can’t stop thinkin’ about those kids…”

Asui Tsuyu — “I’m going to miss it, the hero-life. But, honestly, I think that’s for the better. I want a safer world for my siblings. When we were really young — Satsuki-chan, I don’t even know if you remember this, but… A burglar came into our home. I remember I hid you and Samidare-chan under my bed and left to call the police, who called a Hero. And that hero… bulldozed into our house, right through the wall of my bedroom, and all I could think about was that you two — your tiny little bodies — were right there, and by the luck of the universe, my quirk manifested, and when I cried out, my tongue became the hand the hero had no intention of reaching out, and I was able to pull you both out just a second before the ceiling caved in and smashed my bed to pieces. The hero caught the burglar, but I left that night thinking things like, ‘Was all that really necessary?’ and ‘What would have happened if I was quirkless?’”

Aoyama Yuuga — “I was born quirkless, and let me tell you — the French do not take kindly to those who are. I talk like them and I look like them — well, that’s a lie, I am much more gorgeous! But alas, we live in a world where our quirks are as good as currency. I’m still getting the hang of how fast word travels in Japan, but my peers at UA know my parents asked All for One to grant me the quirk I have today, and when my parents refused to let me carry their debt to him, he killed them. I am a hero solely out of revenge, and that’s not very heroic. My Papa used to tell me that I was meant to sparkle, and I can’t do that covered in red.”

Tokoyami Fumikage — “People are not born bad, only make bad decisions. But each bad decision is not held to the same weight for each and every individual — and for our society today, that is bad. I’m quite fond of darkness and prone to all things of the night, but I was lucky enough to be raised by a family that guided me with light. That said, I am…  honestly looking forward to getting to know the villains who’ve come out today. There aren’t too many heroes with the Devil in them, and Dark Shadow is practically itching to bond with people more like me — I think he’s getting tired of fighting all the time.”

Hagakure Touru — “My whole life, I’ve not only been invisible but felt so. I think the only times I’ve been given any sort of attention is being the butt of a joke — I’ve heard way too many one-liners over the fact that I have to fight naked, and it doesn’t matter how cleverly you think you twisted it, it’s still not funny to me. However… UA helped me shine, literally. I think it’s really important for kids to feel that — without having to spend a boatload of money or kill your childhood for a scholarship that essentially turns you into a child soldier.” 

Shouji Mezou  — “I learned to cover my face at a young age because I scare people. It’s not right to say, but whenever I used to see villains, like Dabi-san, show off their unconventional appearances so freely, with so much pride… It somehow equated in my mind that I need to cover up, to show society that I’m not like them — I’m not something to be feared because I display shame in the way I look. Preconceived notions, stereotypes, we all fall prey to them. Late at night, though, I’d think to myself that maybe villains just want to be seen. And now, seeing everyone who’s attended — your wonderful, unique, and brave faces — I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable labeling anyone as a villain ever again. I don’t want to wear this mask anymore, and I don’t want anyone else to ever feel like they have to as well.”

Ida Tenya — “In one of the readings Aizawa-sensei assigned to us, an activist said: ‘Police and heroes are doing what nobody should be doing — enforcing laws that criminalize poverty and addiction, arresting people instead of issuing citations, writing tickets to raise revenue rather than protect the public, and using armored vehicles to evict women and children from a home they have occupied to protest homelessness.’ And I agree! We cannot continue on like this, and I thank all the heroes today who have resigned from participating in this kind of system. You have given me the strength to do so as well!”

Midorya Izuku has the hardest time of it, cries and sniffles through the whole thing, but ends with a wobbly tenacious smile and a promise of “Plus Ultra!” that makes Yagi gather the young boy — and equally tearful mother — into his frail arms. 

Only Sero Hanta is left to say his piece. 

He feels like he wants to vomit and he knows the crowd can tell, “Someone I care about very much pointed out that I never talk about m’personal life. And, well, that’s because it doesn’t make for a very good story. But that person’s life story has been the highlight of every news station in Japan for the last week, so I figured I might give it a shot.”

Shouto’s reddened eyes widen and practically beg Hanta to shut up, but Hanta remembers the boy making a comment not too long ago about how Hanta doesn’t really know when to do that. 

“Five years ago, my home was destroyed by what the police had called, ‘a villain attack’. My parents were killed by the rubble caused by a hero chasin’ after a kid a lil’ older than I am now with a scary quirk for stealin’ a woman’s purse. After that, I was sent to a foster home that looked more like a crackhouse,” Gasps and horrified murmurs ripple across the crowd, “Don’t worry too much ‘bout that though, I wasn’t there fer’long. Sold off for my foster parents' next fix. Managed to get away though.”

The League push their way into the front of the crowd, which fortunately opens right up out of fear, or common decency, Hanta doesn’t really know yet.

It’s actually kind of funny how Tomura looks at Hanta with his hands out and his eyes wide, like, ‘what the fuck’re you doin’?’

Hanta barrels on though, “I was around ten years old when Dabi had found me, half-dead’a hypothermia ‘n starvation. He took me in, and man, was he a mother hen. Makes so much sense now that he grew up an older brother,” He laughs wetly, and from his peripheral vision, it looks like Touya’s mother does the same. 

“At this point, I was used t’people kickin’ me outta restaurants ‘n stealin’ my clothes when I wasn’t lookin’. But Dabi — sorry, Touya, my bad, I’ve been callin’ him ‘Dabi’ for so long now, but I wanna use the name his brother calls him. Touya would sneak me into whatever shelter he’d find willin’ to hold a stray. He’d get me all kinda books, most of ‘em interesting but some were complicated as hell.”

Hanta’s voice starts to betray him, threatening to cut off completely as the memories flood through.

“He’d tell me to read while he’s out workin’,” Tears finally start to fall and, for once, Hanta welcomes the burning trails down his cheeks, “He’d come back tired as hell, every day with new scars, ‘n even then, he’d make me somethin’ to eat, even if it meant he wouldn’t for days. 

“He always offered to take me to a safehouse — a place for children like me. He’d say things like, ‘You should be playin’ ‘round with other kids yer age,’ and I’d just make fun’a’him for bein’ an old man. But the truth is, I didn’t wanna leave him. He was the only person who made me feel safe in a world that turned me away.”

His eyes roam over and connect with every present member of the League. Himiko is crying into Jin’s chest.

“And around a year ago, he let me come with him to join the League,” Hanta cannot bear to face the betrayal he knows paints every single face of his classmates, so he doesn’t, “I thought I wanted revenge, at first. But lookin’ back, I think I just wanted to help Touya’s dream of a better world come true. Pay ‘im back for everythin’ he’d done f’me. ‘N so, when the League asked me to be their spy, I agreed.

“But,” Hanta starts to shake, “When I got to UA — well, you’ve all seen it, everybody is so fuckin’ good. After my classmate was kidnapped, after I saw what it had done to him, I regretted my decision so much.”

Hanta can’t stop crying.

“Kirishima said he doesn’t wanna live a life with regrets, ‘n I know that’s only possible for me if-if I confess, because I know Touya refused t’give me up when he’d turned himself in, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”

Hanta covers his shame with his arm and hopes his bulky elbows give him enough cover to break down. 

“But I’ll never regret staying with Touya! Because without him, I-I never really would’ve believed society could actually change, until today.”

He doesn’t know when the League had actually run up to him. He only feels the cold metal of Mr. C’s prosthetic catching him before he falls to his knees, only registers the worn cashmere of Himiko’s sweater against his cheek, only hears the thud, whine, and scramble of Tomura picking up the fallen microphone and yelling out, “None’a you get to judge Hanta!”

And through the blubber of Hanta’s wailing sobs, Hanta hears the unimaginable. 

“We don’t — ”

“ — Monsieur, were you not listening — ”

“ — ‘re doing the right thing now, we’d never — ”

“ — we’re still your friends Hanta! — ”

“ — I forgive you! — ”

“ — it’s ok, dude, I understand! — ”

“ — confession was totally manly! — ” 

“ — et the fuck up, Tape Face, ‘n apologize to my face like a man! Geeze, you were only doin’ what you thought was right, or whatever — ”

In less than a minute, Hanta is engulfed by the arms of his classmates, their tearful smiles and too-empathetic eyes filling his vision and stunning his burning shame to a halt. 

Cold and hot hands cup his face, Shouto’s puffy eyes staring at him wondrously.

“Why…?” Hanta doesn’t understand.

“Don’t you see how much we love you, Hanta? Don’t you trust us to see how much pain you’ve been in, and not punish you for it?” 

Hanta’s chest aches with something that blooms to life instead of the anticipated shrivel of the death of one he’s grown to love.

He sighs, resting his forehead against Shouto’s, “I’m so sorry, Shou…” 

Shouto’s headshake jostles Hanta slightly and he tearfully whispers, “I’m sorry, too. You’ve suffered the same loss I have, and have been going through it alone.”

The students of Class 1A quiet down when their homeroom teacher steps through and pulls Hanta up with an offering hand.

Hanta has always found his sensei so hard to read, “Wha-what’r’you gonna do t’me, Sensei?”

And his teacher only smiles and tips his head to his family — to the League that hadn’t left Hanta’s side under the swarm of — ex — hero students.

“Weren’t you paying attention? There are no punishments for what is said and done today.”  

When the League, his teacher, and his classmates walk Hanta away from the area that holds the lone microphone, there is only the noise of respected cheers and applause at the sight of opposing sides holding the boy who’d played both — and it feels like a win. 

read full story here

my other works

[sixty-silver-wishes]

YALL I found my old diary from when I was 13 and I was NOT prepared for how much it swings between “pretentious wannabe Romantic poet” and “cripplingly self-aware middle schooler”

So right away this is hardcore. Comes with a warning that my ghost will haunt whoever reads it after my death.

“The account of Ocean Waves [for some reason, I was convinced I would be published under that name lol] ^ otherwise known by a less appealing name, is enclosed. Please do not read until you are sure my name is carved into a headstone. If I am killed for the sole purpose of reading this, however far-fetched that may seem, I will hunt you down.”

Happy reading,

- Ocean.

P.S.- You can, however, read this with permission. Good luck with that. Also, if you do decide to kill me, I would prefer a peaceful death. And by the way, I would prefer even more if you didn’t try to kill me. Oh, and if this is read while I’m still alive, I will still hunt you down.”

Already, you can see the makings of a future historian in the works.

“In this somewhat girly journal [it was Disney Princess themed] is the somewhat boring account of a 13-year-old girl. I, Sophia [last name], also known as Ocean Waves, am recording things in here in hopes of future discovery. As I will not share this to [sic] the outside world, I hope this journal will be preserved so that future civilization may find out about my time. However, as a writer and an artist, my goal is to be noticed, not especially famous.”

I give some hilarious takes here:

“I also have artist’s block. I tried drawing a picture earlier; but I didn’t feel like finishing it. I wonder if I’ll ever draw with a passion again.”

(No, younger me, you were just undiagnosed with ADHD.)

Notably, I don’t think I was the Medieval history expert I thought I was at the time:

“I don’t wish to have a boyfriend, and at 13, I don’t think I’m ready to. In the dark ages, girls my age would have already been grandmothers. I think that’s revolting.”

I get very pretentious about my English classes, although I have to say, I still agree with my criticisms of the school system.

“This is my own personal thought, and I prefer it not to be read, as I think differently at night. I think the school system does not have a very good idea of what language arts should be like. We spend hours picking apart and dissecting poems, like they are carcasses and we vultures. Poems aren’t made to be dissected, they’re made to be felt. And all we write are expository essays. Of course this is important, but there’s no way to express how we feel. After all, who decided to put “art” in “language arts” when there is no art to it at all; just mindless examining? I’m sorry for my rant [not sure why I keep apologizing to my private diary], but that’s what journals are for. Until tomorrow,

- Ocean”

I also write about my own art with self-loathing that would put a sexually-repressed 17th century Puritan to shame. You can see me dot my “i” with circles now because I saw a Buzzfeed video once that said people who do that are creative. And I get very passionate about Edgar Allan Poe for some reason:

“I experimented with my new copic markers today, and everyone who saw my drawings seemed to like them. I’m disgraced to say that I had a sense of overwhelming pride, but I’m not used to people noticing my art too often. In first period (aka so called “Language Arts”), we read “The Raven” by Edgar Allan Poe. Most people in the class didn’t seem to appreciate it, but I did. It tore open the hearts of both the reader + the main character, exposing his grief + longing towards Lenore, who [sic] he can never see again, so much that the stoic raven drives him to insanity and later, death. And to think that Poe got barely any recognition in his time! I’m not expecting much publicity from my books, but I do hope I’ll be able to write gripping + chilling stories like Poe did, without his own troubles (…)”

… In summary, I think 13 year old me would be very happy to know that in the years since, I majored in English, still draw, still single, and own a Poe anthology I bought while visiting the museum dedicated to him in Virginia.

[swap-meetog]

Stolen Body, Stolen Confidence

My name is Seb, and I have pretty much the perfect life. I’m a senior in college and about to graduate with my degree in Communication. I have earned nothing less than straight As the entire time I’ve been a student here. My parents are both venture capitalists, so we have never wanted for anything a day in our lives. On top of having my school tuition paid for out-of-pocket, I get a generous monthly allowance that covers everything I could ever need, from the latest and most expensive clothes, to the cutting edge of technology, I own it all. I require only the best, after all, in order to look the part of the sexy billionaire heir. I make it a point to go to the gym every day after classes let out. In fact, this is a picture of me that I took earlier today at the university’s fitness center. I can outlift most of the people there, and I am easily able to run faster and longer than any of them. The gym is like my sanctuary. I’ve worked hard for my body, a body that anyone would be jealous of. Girls want to fuck me (trust me, I’ve had sex with more than my fair share of big-titted bimbos) and dudes want to be me.

This is (well… was) Aiden. Aiden and I have known each other since freshman year of college when we were unwitting roommates in the dorms. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a nice dude, it’s just that he was so scrawny and a little bit of a nuisance. All he ever wanted to do was play on his Xbox, eat increasingly gross and smelly snacks, and stay inside where he knew that he would never need to speak with anyone. He had the lowest amount of self-esteem that I had ever seen. Eventually, after weeks of trying, I managed to convince him to come to the gym with me. He only went once. That’s actually where this picture of him is from. He vowed to never show his face there again though, after he dropped the lowest possible setting on the weights and got laughed out of the room. I have to admit, even though I felt bad for the guy in that moment, I couldn’t help but join in on the rowdy chorus of gym bros guffawing at him as the weights clanged to the floor. I needed to save my reputation because they’d all seen me walk in with him and I couldn’t let anyone know that I was willing to stick up for a weakling like him. I should’ve said something. But, of course, I didn’t, and we all know that it only takes one mistake to haunt you for the rest of your life.

From that day on, Aiden resented me and the ground that I walked on. He grew ever distant, and ignored me even when we were in the room together. He was asleep when I got back from the gym in the evenings and gone for his classes by the time I woke up. He still came back during the day to unwind and play video games, but I was never around in the daytime anymore either, having just rushed and been pledged to the most prestigious and coveted, best fraternity on campus: Alpha Alpha Alpha. I think I caught him once at night, jerking off in his bed, moaning rather loudly and listening to two men have what sounded like pretty rough sex. I had no idea that he was gay! Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against gay people, I just don’t get the appeal of it at all. I have access to the greatest array of women that anyone could ever want; there’s no way I’d give that up for a man! “Ha!” I involuntarily chuckled. He definitely heard me, though I didn’t wait to find out as I turned over in my bed and pretended to fall asleep. He turned the volume down but continued to watch it. Gross!

The awkwardness between us continued for the rest of the year, and after our second semester had ended, we went our separate ways for good.

Or so I thought.

—

It was a chilly, spring morning, almost three years since I’d last seen Aiden. I had gotten used to taking morning classes by now, something that would have been unthinkable as a freshman. I had forgotten all about Aiden, a man whose name never once crossed my mind. He, on the other hand, had obsessed over that moment in the gym and it had made him bitter. It created a fear in Aiden, so pervasive that there was no way he would feel comfortable enough to go to a gym again, for fear of further ridicule and mockery. The handful of times he tried, no matter where it was, he ended up having a panic attack and needing to go home. A lack of exercise, a poor diet and a sedimentary lifestyle playing video games took its toll. In a matter of months, Aiden went from 110 pounds soaking wet, to 200 on a good day. By this current year: our senior year of college, Aiden weighed almost 320 pounds of mostly all fat and no muscles.

The entire time he’d been gaining weight, he’d also been putting his advanced understanding of cellular biology to good use. He would spend hours in the school’s biology lab, working on a way to get back at me, the man who not only forced him to go to the gym in the first place, but who pretended to be his friend while so eagerly able to stab him in the back. He was mad at me — probably for good reason, and he let that anger drive him. It was because of me that no man wanted him sexually and nobody ever found him attractive. To him, it was all my fault that he was still a virgin and because of that, he would fantasize about dominating me with his pure size as he fapped his comparatively tiny penis over the top of his shelf of a belly.

Finally, on the first of April, Aiden, who was now more of a social recluse than ever, had a breakthrough. He created a serum to switch our bodies and steal my life. This was, in his mind so twisted by hate, the only way to get back at me for stealing what could’ve been the best years of his life.

I was walking to class, bundled up in a hoodie and an expensive pair of sweatpants, oblivious to the world and listening to a podcast blaring through the speakers of my AirPods. That’s why I didn’t see him as he crept up behind me and reached around me to spray me some sort of squirt bottle. I hardly even noticed as I fainted and fell backwards. Aiden caught me and dragged me into an empty building nearby as he waited for his infused formula to take effect.

—

Before long, I wake up with a killer headache. I had a hard time seeing at first, as my blurry vision came into focus. I tried, not once, not twice, but three times to sit up on the mattress I found myself on. For some reason, I just couldn’t manage to pull myself up. Was I too heavy? That can’t be right.

“Roll over onto your belly and bring your legs to the floor. Then push yourself up using your arms”. I hear a calm and cool voice come from somewhere in the room. It’s a voice that sounds eerily familiar.

I do what he tells me to. Not because I want to, but because it’s the only thing I can physically do to get up and gather my bearings. When I finally am able to look down, I see thick layers of fat all over my body. I’m paler than I have ever been, and there is a thick, pungent odor of sweat emanating from my armpits. I look over at the only other person in the room and I gasp! It’s me! But I’m me! Wait! There’s a mirror!

I gaze into the mirror and I see Aiden. For all of the fat he’s put on, his face is still recognizable and I also see the old him in my new eyes. I’m freaking out, when he and I parted ways, Aiden looked nothing like this. Now that he is me, I’m the one who looks like a monstrosity. I’m fat! Fatter than my old alpha body was even capable of being. I look over my shoulder in the mirror at my doppelgänger who is silently watching. It must be Aiden in there then. Somehow, this is all his fault.

“What the hell did you do to me?” I accuse him, with a threatening tone. It falls flat though, because there’s no way this body could intimidate my own. My old body has twice as much muscle and can probably move three times as effortlessly as I can now. I’m nothing, compared to him.

“Nothing that you didn’t do to yourself, Seb.” He flashes my million-dollar grin at me.

I feel a flash of anger erupt in my head and in my throat. I start to roar and I reach out to grab him to strangle him for stealing my hard earned body and leaving me with this mess of one. All of a sudden though, he snaps his fingers and I feel docile, unable to move or even speak. He knows he’s won as he reaches out and begins to rub my new, fatty body.

As he kneads my newfound skin and rubs my copious mounds of fat like a massage, I can’t believe the level of pleasure he’s giving me. It’s like an orgasm with each thrust of his manly hands. I find myself moaning and groaning in pure bliss as he makes me his plaything. Eventually, he speaks. I still can’t get over hearing my own voice talking to me, but it’s hard to even notice as I am overcome by lust. I look up at him and gulp, gosh I’m so handsome! Wait, it’s not gay to find yourself attractive right, even if you’re not exactly yourself?

“Listen Seb, your name is Aiden now. I’m not going to be giving your body back, ever, but I can make it so that you’re so sensitive that every single graze of even the lightest shirt fabric will make you keel over and cum on the spot. Would you like that? Would you like to feel like you’re feeling now, but at every single second of the day?” He asks me.

I don’t know if it was because I was extremely horny or if I actually wanted this, but I agreed with his question and he laughed an evil rumble at my ignorance.

“Excellent choice Aiden!” The new Seb yells at me, “From this moment on, you will be me: the biggest loser known to mankind. You will become overwhelmed with orgasmic pleasure any time your skin is touched and you will never run low on sexual stamina. You will get off on being watched, in public, cumming into your shorts and you will never ever EVER be able to work off this fat or get fit again!” He’s moved his way down to my new dick and strokes it with expert-like movement.

I scream as cum erupts out of my way smaller dick. My old dick wasn’t even this small when it was flaccid. I learned later that as soon as I came, I became locked in this form forever. I would be nothing but a fat, beta, gay, bitch for the rest of my pitiful life. Aiden stole my body, my money, and my self-confidence. Now I’m a nervous wreck when it comes to leaving my new home and I haven’t stepped foot in my old sanctuary—the gym, since then. Though I have seen my old body, the former Aiden turned Seb, saunter in there confidently on more than one occasion during the past couple of months. I wish I had his swagger and confidence. Is it just me or is he looking bigger than ever?

Maybe I got what I deserved. If I hadn’t have shattered his ego, he would be doing the same thing he’s doing now, just in his own body and not mine. We might even still be friends. Instead, I can’t do anything but fantasize about Seb and his sexy body. Do you think he’ll let me worship his body if I ask nicely enough? Oh god!! I’m cumming! Already?

[undercoveravenger]

Closing Cases

Written for my 2021 Halloween event

Pairing: EJ Caswell x Male!Detective!Reader

Prompt: EJ with a Nancy Drew/Scooby gang reader investigating something haunting the school and EJ steps up to help. With “I am running on two hours of sleep and fifty tiny candy bars” and “Can we go five minutes without talking about ghosts, ghouls, or goblins?”

A/N: This is prompt # 2 for my Halloween event! The next prompt will be posted Thursday, October 7th.

-------

East High was being faced by an unexplainable problem. Each night, lockers were being broken into and various class and club rooms had been found vandalized. The faculty had examined the footage from all of the security cameras near the areas that had been attacked, but weren’t able to see anyone in the videos; only that the halls looked normal in one frame, and had been trashed in the next.

As someone who had spent his entire childhood looking up to all of the great detectives, you took it upon yourself to get to the bottom of the situation. You had told Miss Jen, the theater teacher, that you’d be missing rehearsals one afternoon in order to conduct your investigation, but she had been the only person you told.

You supposed that was why it came as such a shock to find EJ Caswell, a popular senior and star of the water polo team and drama department, leaning against the locker beside yours after school.

You disregarded his presence, moving to open your locker and tuck away your textbooks.

“So I hear you’re not going to be at rehearsals today,” EJ said after a moment, turning to face you. “Care to share why?”

“I’ve got more important things to do,” you said easily. You knew it was kind of a weak response, but it was the first thing that’d come to mind.

He rolled his eyes, lips quirking up into a grin. “Yeah, we both do, I guess.”

That gave you pause. You turned to look at him incredulously, and you had to force yourself to ignore the way the amused glint in his pretty blue eyes threatened to make you smile. “Excuse me?”

“You’re investigating the break-ins, right?” EJ asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you.

“I’m not convinced that they have been break-ins, but yes,” you said, grabbing a different backpack entirely out of your locker and leaving the one with your school supplies in it before shutting the door. “Is there a reason you’re talking to me?” You turned away at that, making your way down the quickly emptying halls.

EJ scrambled to keep pace with you, weaving around the remaining students and faculty to stay at your side. “I want to help! I’ll be the first to say I don’t really have experience with investigations, but I want to help stop what’s going on.”

You let out a sigh, turning abruptly to face EJ. “Fine. You can help,” you held up a hand to interrupt him when he made to let out a victorious whoop, “But if you get in the way of my investigation, I will tell you to leave and you will listen. Do we have a deal?”

The brunet nodded vigorously, falling back into step beside you as you resumed your previous path, “Deal. So,” he said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Where do we start?”

“Here,” you said as you came to a stop outside of a janitor’s closet on the second floor.

EJ’s brows furrowed in obvious confusion. “Our investigation starts at the janitor’s closet?”

You nodded, twisting the door open and entering the small room. You sat down, nestling your way between a set of shelves and several empty garbage cans. “Well, this is where we’ll be waiting until the time is right.”

“And when is that?” he asked as he crept into the closet with you, wincing as the door slammed closed behind him.

You snickered, pulling out your phone to set an alarm. “Well, the thief only strikes at night, right? They’ll probably emerge at around nine o’clock, which means we have,” you glanced back at your phone, “About five hours to kill.”

“Five hours?” EJ asked incredulously, blue eyes wide as he looked at you. “What the hell are we going to do for five hours?!”

“Well, I was going to play games on my phone since I wasn’t planning on having company until a few minutes ago,” you said, glancing pointedly down at the device. “You’re still more than welcome to leave, if you don’t want to wait?”

EJ shook his head stubbornly, shifting to sit with his back against the opposite wall from you. “No, but my phone definitely isn’t going to hold up for that long.” He paused, thinking, “Maybe we could play twenty questions while we wait?”

You shrugged, figuring that humoring a cute boy wouldn’t kill you. “Alright, sure. But since it was your idea, you have to go first.”

He smiled widely, clearly delighted that you’d agreed. “Okay!” He hesitated for a moment while he thought, but a question seemed to strike him pretty quickly. “So, do you make it a point to hang out in sketchy janitor’s closets often?”

You barely managed to bite back a snicker, but the upward tilt of EJ’s lips made you suspect that he knew about your poorly concealed amusement. “I do when my cases require it,” you said by means of explanation, but you found yourself elaborating further at the confused-puppy expression on his face. “Today’s a Tuesday, which means that the cleaning staff isn’t in tonight, so no one will be checking this closet for stragglers like they would the library or a classroom. Waiting in here means that I’ll be able to remain in the building after the doors are locked, which means that I’ll be able to find out if anyone else comes into the building after it’s locked down for the night.”

“Wow,” EJ said, eyes wide as he processed everything you’d just said. “You put a lot more planning into this than I would’ve thought?”

“What, you thought I’d just wing it?” you teased. You had to admit, you were enjoying his company far more than you had anticipated. “I like to think that I take my job pretty seriously.”

He gestured wildly with his hands, like he was trying to wave away his previous words. “No, no, no; that’s not what I meant- I meant that-” He cut himself off as he noticed you beginning to laugh, “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” He faked offense, but the appearance of his dimples gave away his amusement. “Fine, you got me.” His grin widened as he looked at you, “Alright, Mr. Holmes, what’s your leading theory?”

You let out a thoughtful hum, “Currently? Vengeful spirits.”

EJ let out a surprised laugh. It was deep, uncontrollable and infectious, and you were helpless to hide the grin it brought to your face, though it faded after a moment, “You’re serious?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure what else to think,” you started softly, fingers twisting nervously in your lap as you were forced to admit that, for once, you really weren’t sure about what the outcome of your case would be. “Any normal person would have been caught on camera, and the only people in this city that have the ability to manipulate the footage to make it look like no one was there either wouldn’t care enough to do it or they’ve got an alibi.”

EJ’s brows furrowed, “And none of them could have lied about the alibis?”

“Mr. Mazzara could’ve, I suppose,” you mused, “But I double-checked it with Miss Jenn and it sounds legit.”

“So ghosts then, huh?” he prompted, scooting a little closer to you until his knees brushed lightly against yours. “Seems like a little bit of a leap in logic.”

You shrugged helplessly, a tired grin forming on your lips, “I am running on two hours of sleep and fifty tiny candy bars. Ghosts weren’t the least probable option, if I’m being honest.”

“How would you even get rid of a ghost-” He stopped as the rest of your statement caught up to him, “Wait, you’ve had fifty candy bars?!”

“Just the little ones.” You said, waving off his concern and checking the time on your phone. “Depends on the type of spirit, but I’ve talked to some sophomores who practice witchcraft and they say that sage and pure intention to banish it should take care of whatever we’re seeing, as long as it’s a normal ghost or spirit. I just want to eliminate any other options before I take action.”

“Can we go five minutes without talking about ghosts, ghouls, or goblins?” EJ demanded, taking your phone from you and setting it aside so he could get you to focus on him, “You’ve gotta take better care of yourself,” he said quietly, normally bright eyes turned stormy with concern, “You’ve got a lot of people that care about you-”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, “Like who?” At his stunned silence, you pressed on, “Everyone at this school thinks I’m a weirdo. You don’t think I’ve heard people call me Scooby-Doo or Nancy Drew or Sherlock?” You shook your head, pushing yourself to your feet as your frustration mounted, “This was a mistake. I’m leaving; I’ll solve this case on my own.”

“Wait,” EJ exclaimed, shooting up to his feet and grabbing your wrist to stop you from going. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m wrong?” you asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow as you looked up at EJ. “About what part?”

He nodded seriously, eyes locked with yours, “About no one caring about you and about everyone thinking you’re weird.” He took a deep breath, and, for the first time since he’d joined your investigation, you watched his confident facade falter. “I care about you,” he started softly, like he was afraid to finally say it. “And I really like that you’re so passionate about solving mysteries.”

Your brows furrowed as you turned to look back at him, “You… like that?”

“I like you,” he said, so quiet that he was barely audible, but when you didn’t pull away he continued, volume picking up as he did so, “I really like you and I can’t believe I get to help you do something I love, and that probably sounds pretty dumb since we don’t really know each other that well, but I would really like to get to know you better and maybe even take you out to dinner sometime if that’s okay with you?”

It took you a long moment to find your voice again. “Okay,” you found yourself saying as you tugged your wrist from his grip to link your fingers with his instead. “Okay,” A wide smile spread across EJ’s face and you could feel an answering one as it tugged at your lips, “When we close this case, I’ll let you take me on a date.”

“Really?” he asked, like he almost expected you to tell him it was some cruel joke. He let out a breathless laugh when you nodded, “Then what are we waiting for?” he asked joyfully, tugging you towards the door by your joined hands. “We’ve got a case to solve!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you were led out into the long-abandoned halls of East High, glad to have finally found someone who matched you. After all, all the greats came in pairs; Daphne had Fred, Sherlock had Watson, and now you had EJ.

[yikesharringrove]

“Salutatorian.”

Nancy slammed her backpack down onto the floor, moving to slide her way onto the counter.

“I’m, sorry?” Jonathan just shook his head at Steve.

They both had been coming to hang out with him and Robin at Family Video most days after school, shooting the shit until Keith showed up and found something to ell at Steve about.

“I got class salutatorian.”

“Is that like, Spanish for something?” She rolled her eyes at Steve.

“It means, that I’m not the valedictorian. Somebody else has a higher academic ranking than I do.”

“Oh.” Steve had barely graduated, just about scraped by. “So, the saluda-the one you are, that’s like, the second smartest person in the school?”

“I just want to know who it is,” she kept plowing on, ignoring Steve.

Robin pushed her way out of the back, holding a box of tapes for shelving. Nancy’s eyes lit up.

“Is it you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Are you valedictorian?”

“Oh, I got myself into the top 10% and stayed put.” Steve took the box from her arms.

He didn’t really wanna talk about this.

Everyone in his life is way smarter than he is.

It’s not like, hard to see, Billy makes the same clever references as the little genius kids do, Jonathan gets high and goes off for hours about philosophy and ethics of anarchy, but Nancy coming in here, all mad about only being ranked number 2 in their class, well, Steve’s class rank still haunts him.

He whacked the tapes back into their spots, trying to tune out all the noise around him.

So he didn’t hear when the bell above the door jingled the sound of a new customer.

There were just thick arms around him, and a nose buried in his neck.

“You smell good.” He relaxed into Billy’s arms, turning his head to awkwardly press a kiss to his temple.

“Thanks, I took a shower today.”

“Yeah? Tell me about it.” Steve rolled his eyes as Billy pulled back, leaning against the shelf. “What’s got Little Miss Perfect all riled up? Usually she just kinda ignores me, but she like, actually glared at me when I came in.”

Nancy was not Billy’s biggest fan.

He thought it was hilarious and would flirt with her mom right in front of her.

“She’s pissed ‘cause she’s only the second smartest person in the whole world. She was informed today that she’s the salutationarian. Or whatever the fuck it is.”

A sharp grin spread slowly over Billy’s face.

“She’s salutatorian?”

“Yeah, and apparently she’s been banking on being, the other one. She’s trying to figure out who beat her to it.” Billy followed Steve back to the counter when he had finished restocking the tapes.

“You got any plans tonight, Stever?” Steve just looked blankly at Billy where he was leaning over the counter, his elbows propped up and his fingers laced together, his chin resting on top. Friday night was their night, they always did something. “I’m thinkin’ you and me go to the city. Celebrate a little.”

“Oh, yeah? What are we celebrating?”

“Well, I had a nice chat with the principle today.” He spread his arms, pushing out his chest. “You’re looking at the Hawkins Highs class of ‘86 valedictorian.”

Nancy looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.

“You’re valedictorian?” He winked at her. “No way. There’s no way.”

“Yeah? Why not?”

“You can’t have better grades than I do.”

“Six out of eight of my classes are advanced placement. And I’m a straight-A student. Have been since the sixth grade.” Nancy’s face was steadily going red. “Plus, they take into account extracurriculars and shit. I’m on two teams and the poli-sci club.”

The “political science club” was started by a few theater kids Steve’s sophomore year. Robin and Billy were both in it, and apparently it was a thinly veiled queer club.

“We have a political science club?”

“It’s not what you think it is,” Robin added quickly. Nancy wasn’t paying attention, just looked like she was gonna explode.

“I can’t believe this. I work my whole life for this, and you-”

“You think I didn’t work hard? You think this was a fluke?”

“Frankly, yes, I do.”

“Say that to my near-perfect S.A.T. scores, then. The ones I got without a tutor or a fucking class.” Nancy slid off the counter, grabbing her backpack from the floor.

“Well, I got into Yale.”

“And I got into Harvard.”

She snarled. Billy had only applied on a whim, told Steve I wanted to see if I could get in. And then he did. It made Steve equal parts proud of Billy and ashamed of himself.

But Billy had always had his heart set on Cal Poly, and had gotten a full-ride.

He had asked Steve to come with him.

They were leaving in August.

Steve still hadn’t figured out how to tell everyone.

“You’re a douchebag,” Nancy said through gritted teeth.

“Doesn’t make me any less smarter than you.”

Steve opened his mouth, ready to de-escalate whatever was about to happen next. He wouldn’t put it past Nancy to throw a punch or two.

But it didn’t matter, because Nancy was grumbling under her breath, muttering the words meathead asshole and piece of shit jock and valedictorian? More like valeDICK under her breath. 

She slammed open the door on her way out, Jonathan trailing after her.

Billy smiled brightly at Steve.

“You know, I was planning on not accepting. They’ll make me speak at graduation and I wasn’t even gonna go to that. But now, I gotta.”

“Honestly, it’d make her more mad if you refused it, because then she would probably be given the role, but she’d hate it because she’d know she only got it because you refused.”

“Harrington, you devious little fucker.” Billy smiled at him for a moment, his face slipping a bit. “Just, you know, fuck her for thinking I don’t work hard. You know how difficult it is to study while you’re trying to distract me?”

Whenever Billy was studying at his house, Steve usually got bored real quick of not having Billy’s attention.

So typically, he would get naked and wait until Billy did something about it.

“You get to look at me naked almost daily. People would kill for that privilege.”

“Don’t tempt me, Harrington. I’d absolutely slaughter for that ass a’ yours.” Billy grinned deviously at Steve. Steve winked back.

Robin had her lips pursed as Billy leaned back over the counter, getting as close as he could to Steve without just climbing right on it.

“Whadaya say, Harrington? We celebratin’?”

Steve leaned in as well, nearly pressing nose to nose with Billy.

“Oh, I’ve got some ideas. After all, gotta really treat my super smart boyfriend.” He pecked Billy once on the cheek, swooping back up to standing. “Be back at eight?”

“That when you get off?”

“You too, if you’re lucky.”

Robin wretched while Billy’s eyes went bright. He knocked once on the counter, beginning to walk backwards out the door.

“See you then, Sugar.”

“See you then, Valedictorian.”

[golbrocklovely]

way to wait until last minute to write a review, angelica. sorry about that yall. and especially the anon that wanted to know my opinions.

here's my reaction to snc's fifth season one video

aka "ALONE in DUNGEON of Haunted Hospital | Fairfield Infirmary"

the video was good. the end.

just kidding i'll write more lol

i really like when sam and colby work with haunted nights. i think their energy mixed with snc's works really well. plus, i think to some degree they bring snc's energy down a peg or two, which is always for the best.

also, having nate in the video was a lovely choice as well. i love when he tags along with snc.

and this was the video that included lexi! she was a lovely addition to the video. i know she told me that she was nervous, which is why she seemed so calm in the video, but honestly??? it worked super well. every time it cut to her just stand there, staring at snc, was hilarious. bc it really makes you realize snc are super over-dramatic lmao

also, her telling me (and us) that colby was trying to help her up the hill bc of how slippery it was and that nate was extremely invested in learning about her when they did have down time.... omg, i love these ppl so much.

now about the building they were in, i always feel so sad when they go to mental hospitals and whatnot. something about places like these, to someone with actual mental disorders (me), always makes me kinda want to cry. the amount of torture and lack of care that happened at these places, when all anyone needed was help just breaks my heart. and then to have a literally room all the way at the top that was used to chain ppl up... disgusting.

side note, the scentbird ad... what the fuck were those outfits??? also why did colby think it was the right idea to spray the perfume into his face lmaooo

i hate them so much ksksks

okay onto the investigation:

adam, the tour guide, was fantastic. he matched their energy very well. also he's in today's video too so i'm excited to seem him again lol

how did i know that the moment they would show the chains on the wall, i just knew colby would say something sexual???

the on running joke that nate doesn't bathe was so funny.

the idea that ppl were doing secret seances at the place is so creepy to me. also... why doesn't that man just get rid of all the evidence lol i would not keep that on my property.

also the fact that there are so many buried bodies on the property... that's insane. i'm surprise it's not polterguise-y up in there.

something about snc buying a body cover is hilarious to me. and then poor nate having to be their volunteer lol

nate: this is the weirdest thing *long pause* well, not the weirdest thing i've ever consented to, but it's up there.

😏 what you talking about, nate? care to share with the class lol

everything that happened in the morgue was really cool. i guess it was good that they used nate as a trigger object in a way. but they clearly were communicating with something in there, which was so interesting.

can i be honest, and maybe i'm an outlier here, but dolls aren't creepy to me. even the ones that are purposefully made to look creepy. they just aren't to me. maybe it's also bc i grew up playing with dolls or something but like... dolls are scary to me, even if they are old and falling apart haha

i think snc need to get a stronger or loud spirit box. the one they have, it is so hard to understand wtf it's saying whenever they use it.

those steps that you can hear while they were in the yellow room was crazy.

lexi seeing that shadow figure... omg no thanks

the evps they caught, especially that help one, scared the shit out of me. it was so loud !!

when lexi chose sam to be chained to the wall, yall don't understand the laugh i let out. the cackle. that shit tickled me pink, ngl.

highkey tho, props to sam being handcuffed up there bc that wouldn't an couldn't be me ever lol

side note, i had a feeling nate would be the type to know latin, or at least a bit of it. god he is so hot.

the estes method was insane, like always. i will say tho, the attachment part of this whole... attachment series is starting to wear thin personally. while i feel like it is true, if they aren't going to do anything about it, why keep bringing it up? why not have one of the episodes be going either back to the sallie house to return the spirit or going to someone that knows how to remove an attachment and getting rid of it? it just doesn't make sense to me.

also, if i was sam in this situation, i would have to have some form of light with me. or at least that was an arms' reach away or in my hand, that way if i got scared i could turn it on. i don't like pure darkness. i just... can't deal with it. also i have terrible eyesight so i already see shit that's not there to begin with since my eyes are garbage.

and as i've talked about on here, maybe don't whistle back to a possible spirit that's whistling at you, sam. probs not for the best.

overall, i think this episode was actually really fun. i liked it a lot and i think the addition of lexi was fun as well. i'm happy she got to go and got to talk to me on here about her experience. i would rate this episode like a 3.8/5. it was a lot of fun and the evidence they caught was so cool. hopefully today's episode is good as well.

[unmaskedagain]

Agent Marinette

Okay I have struggled all week with a massive case of Writers block and today I beat it. This a crossover fic. Guess it by the end.

In retrospect, Marinette should’ve realized eventually other forces outside of Paris would take an interest in the masked heroine. At least they had been polite enough to wait until AFTER Hawkmoth was defeated.  

Marinette was eleven when she became the hero Ladybug. And her world shattered a bit.

Marinette was fourteen when Hawkmoth was finally defeated.

Marinette was fourteen when Ladybug retired. And her world shattered again, this time a bit more.

It had taken nearly every miraculous they had to take the villain down but eventually, Gabriel Agreste was taken down, his memories of the miraculous erased. (Nathalie with him) His son Adrien Agreste surrendered his own miraculous, his position as Chat Noir, and his own memories of being a hero and everything he’d ever learned of magic and Kwami. All to prevent his father from ever learning of them again.

However, erasing his memories of his life as Chat Noir, unavoidably included erasing his memories of his friendship Ladybug, with Marinette. A friendship that had grown stronger, in and outside the mask, over fighting the evil that haunted Paris back together. Keyword: together.

On the same day, Ladybug had lost her best friend, Marinette did too. Both lost the boy she thought she’d marry one day. They could never be together. She’d have to lie to him for the rest of their lives. Marinette would never be able to do that. And she wouldn’t let Adrien’s sacrifice be in vain.

So she distanced herself from him. She couldn’t look at him without seeing Chat Noir. She couldn’t look at him, knowing she knew just about everything about him but he knew nothing about her. To him, Marinette was just some girl in his class; a sort of friend he was never really that close to.

Strangers, really.

It was why Marinette transferred out of Bustier’s class. The best thing for her heart was to stay away.

Still, she thought in a way, it was a happy ending. The best happy ending she could get. Hawkmoth was gone. Paris was safe. Ladybug was retired. Fu had reclaimed all Kwami and had disappeared. The world was good.

Until it wasn’t. Until one rainy Thursday. Her parents had gone out for a date night. They never made it home. There had been an accident. The other driver had been drunk. The funeral was on a Tuesday.

Marinette’s world had shattered once again, more than ever before.

Marinette was an orphan.

Her grandmother Gina sold the bakery, put the money from the sale and the life insurance into an account for Marinette, and moved Marinette into a nearby apartment, and then was gone. Legally, the older woman was Marinette’s guardian. But otherwise, Marinette was on her own. It was fine. Her dad had always warned her that his mom was a free spirit who never liked to be tied down.

She would talk with her grandmother once every other month if she was lucky. They primarily only communicated through email. The reception was spotted in the parts of the world Gina like to frequent.

At only fourteen, Marinette got used to paying bills, buying groceries, and virtually being an adult. She got used to living alone. Just like she got used to not being a hero anymore. Just like she got used to not having any friends after Lila came knocking on the class’s door.

A year later, the young girl was thriving. Her grades were at the top of the school, right after Max. She was class treasurer and on the track team, having missed the feeling of running as fast she could. She started Kuoshu classes; her mother had always wanted her to learn Chinse martial arts for defense. And Marinette missed the adrenaline she used to get after a fight.

It was a good life. A simple life. Marinette had only normal life worries to be concerned about.

…Again, she really should’ve known the other shoe would drop eventually.

Still, no fifteen-year-old girl who was minding her own business, casually walking down the street, wanted to suddenly have a black bag over her and tossed into the back of a van. In fact, it was every girl, woman, and human being’s worst nightmare.

She was tied up. She was gagged. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t hear. Marinette had no idea how much time had passed. Or where they were taking her. Or who had taken her? She fought the tears that burned in her eyes as she struggled with the bonds around her hands. No matter how hard she tried, they wouldn’t break or budge. By the coldness of it, she knew she was either in handcuff or something similar made of metal.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Marinette felt herself be picked up and carried. She struggled against her assailant. She tried to kick her with her bound legs, hit with her tied fists. Nothing.

Marinette found herself being lower onto something. A chair she quickly realizes as she pressed her back to it.

Suddenly, the metal band around her hands released. Marinette quickly pulled the black bag off her head, undid the tap around her mouth, and took the plugs out of her ears.

She was in a mostly black room that only lights overhead, a vent the size of a phone, the table she sat at, and a large mirror across from her. Marinette figured it was a two-way mirror-like on cop shows, and that she was being watched. However, what concerned her most was that there was no sign of any door. Just walls and that mirror.

There was no escape.

Marinette glared at the mirror, at whoever was behind it.

She didn’t know how long she waited as she plotted her escape. Considering all variables for when they came back to her. Would they have guns? How many people would there be? Could she fight her way out? And just who her kidnappers could be? Child traffickers? Serial killer? Her past enemy, Hawkmoth, comes back for revenge? Who?

When a portion of the wall, next to the mirror opened, Marinette tried not to flinch back in surprise.

In walked a man at least twice her age. He wore a black suit and tie with a serious expression on his face. He was handsome with short dark hair and dark eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass.

The door closed behind him once he stepped through. He said nothing as he sat down in the chair across from her. They started at each other silently.

           Marinette cracked first, “Who are you? What do you want? Where am I?”

           A small smile appeared on the man’s face, “You’re a very hard girl to track down, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’d have thought it would’ve been easier considering all you’ve done.” He had an American accent.

“Track? What?” Why would he want to track her down? “I didn’t do anything. Nothing! Okay?!”

           He gave her a curious look, “Really? Well, I wouldn’t call saving all of Paris on a nearly everyday basis for what two years, nothing.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Don’t try to deny it. We have pictures, videos; evidence.”

           It was like someone had thrown ice water over her head. Marinette swallowed the lump that had built in her throat. “Who. Are. You.” She managed to get out.

“Me? I’m a friend,” He answered. “You can call me Black Heart.”

“Black Heart?” Marinette snorted. “You’re serious?”

“Oh because Ladybug is so much better,” He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter. I have questions. You’re going to answer them.”

           He wanted to know about the miraculous, she guessed. Or how she got her powers. Marinette crossed her arms, “I have nothing to say.”

           Black Heart chuckled and stood up. He put his hands on the table, “Listen very carefully, Marinette. Because there are only two ways we can do this.”

           Marinette smirked, “Is one of them the easy way?”

           A look she couldn’t recognize briefly flashed over Black Heart’s face but gone just as quick. “No,” He answered.

“Oh.”

“Who are you?” He asked her.

           She paused before answering, “…My name is Marinette but you know that. I was the hero Ladybug but you know that as well.”

“What happened to HawkMoth?”

           She felt fine answering that. However, she gave the same answer she gave to the press, “Hawkmoth was defeated. He was stripped of his powers and destroyed.”

“You killed him?”

           It wasn’t the first time Ladybug had been asked that question. “…Yes.” She lied though it didn’t feel like much of one. Hawkmoth was dead after all.

           Blackheart nodded. “What happened to Chat Noir? And the other heroes? Dead too?”

           Marinette fought to keep her face blank, her fists clenched. “Yes,” She said. “They were causalities of the final fight with Hawkmoth.” Technically not a lie. Every Parisian hero had given up their miraculous once and for all after Hawkmoth was gone. There was no need for them anymore.

           The man raised an eyebrow, “Gabriel Agreste is still very much alive last I checked.” She reared back as if slapped. “So is Adrien is otherwise known as Chat Noir. Alya Cesaire aka Rena Rouge, her turtle boyfriend. The monkey guy. The tiger. The snake; Luka, I believe. All alive and kicking. So much for that lie…”

“They were retired,” Marinette growled. “Permanently.”

“Truth,” Blackheart nodded. “How did you erase their memories?”

           It had taken the combined power of Fu, Marinette, Tikki, Wayzz, and Plagg to do it. “I didn’t do anything.”

           Black Heart gave her a hard look, “Where do your powers come from?”

           Marinette smiled, “I don’t have any powers.”

“Fine! Where do Ladybug’s powers come from?”

“I am Ladybug,” She told him. “And Ladybug doesn’t have any powers.”

“You mean anymore?”

           Marinette nodded slowly.

           Black Heart sat back in his chair, “You’re telling me that you busted your ass saving Paris for two years, only to have your powers taken from you? You were tossed to the side just like that? Like you were nothing? I’m supposed to believe that.”

“I wasn’t needed anymore.” By anyone.

“You took down one of the biggest threats to this world,” The man said. “You fought. You bled. You sacrificed everything. From what our intelligence has gathered, you even gave up the love of your young life. Only to be cast aside; alone, forgotten, abandoned…”

“That’s not what happened,” Marinette shook her head.”

“You weren’t useful anymore,” Blackheart tutted. “So you were thrown away; left to fend for yourself in a cold, cruel world. No friends, no family,”

“Shut up,” Marinette whispered.

The man leaned forward, “How many internships did you turn down because you were too busy being a hero? Two? Three?”

“Shut up!” She said louder.

“Wait, it was five. That’s right.” He continued on as if she said nothing. “Five internships with some of the biggest names in fashion today. And you gave it up. Now what you have to show for it? Nothing!” He said. “You live this mundane life halfheartedly, struggling to find your place again, trying to get back even a fraction of the feeling you had when you fighting for this world!”

“SHUT UP!” Marinette roared.

           Black Heart shook his head, “I asked you who you are. But I already know who you are. I know who you were. You were a hero, a martyr, a leader, a little princess who believed in fairytales and the goodness of people. You were someone who believed this world could still be saved! So I just want to know three things. I have three questions to ask you and then you never have to see me again! You can go back to pretending to be whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.”

“What?” Marinette asked. “What could you possibly want to know?” Need to know that he didn’t already. “Huh? Just tell me!”

“Do you still believe this world can be saved?”

Silence.

“…What?”

“Answer the question.”

Marinette blinked, “Yes. I do.”

“Are you still willing to fight for it?” Black Heart asked.

“Always.”

           He smiled, and leaned back in his chair, “Last question… What do you know about Shield?”

           Well, that was a twist. Marinette’s eyes went wide. She knew a lot about shield. More than any normal teenage girl should. But a former Ladybug had been an Agent. And Tikki told her everything... It was founded by Peggy Carter and Howard Stark. Shield started the Avengers. They had been protecting the world for decades.

“A lot,” Marinette answered. “What do you want?

           The man gave her a small smile, “World peace.”

           The doors of the room opened again in walked a beautiful young woman with long hair a bright smile on her face, “You done traumatizing the poor girl yet.”

           The man groaned, “Dammit, Skye.”

           Marinette officially joined Shield the next day.

           Skye showed her the ropes and explained until she garnered some trust, most would give her their full name; maybe only even their code name.

           In another life, Skye hadn’t joined Shield until she was well into her twenties. In this life, she was recruited by a woman named Hill as soon as she graduated high school. It had been nearly ten years since. Skye had met Black Heart when she was about three years in, and they had disliked each other.

           Now they mostly tolerated the others’ existence. Only really dealing with each other on missions.

           Skye would be gone the next day. And Marinette would only see her once in a blue moon.

           Marinette would withdraw from school and finish her education taught by some of the greatest minds in the world. She would give up her apartment, and leave Paris. She would call her grandmother one last time for what would be months to let her know she was going to travel the world; her grandmother was pleased as she had done the same when she was not much older than Marinette. Gina disregarded the fact that she had been a legal adult at the time.

           It would be the last call she made from her phone. The line was disconnected and the phone tossed.

           Then she visited the place that had been her parents’ bakery, not their graves; because she would rather remember them alive, happy, and loving, then dead in the ground. And she told them goodbye.

           Before leaving Paris for good, she dropped off a perfectly wrapped green and black present off at the Agreste home. Adrien’s birthday was coming up. Inside the gift box was a black leather jacket with cat-shaped buttons. She handed the gift to Nathalie.

           This time, however, Marinette was quick to tell the older woman that MDC was sewn inside on the jacket; multiple times.

           Then she walked away; not looking back once.

It was the last thing Adrien would ever get from her. The last thing he would unknowingly have of Chat Noir. Ironically, the masked hero the blond had come to idolize in recent times.

The jacket was all she could give him of his as a hero, and not even a fraction of all she had wished to give him.

           One day he would forget her altogether. One day she would just be a random former classmate of his whose name he couldn’t quite remember.

           However, Marinette would never forget Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir. She would remember when Adrien was Chat Noir, one of the greatest heroes Paris would ever know. And she would remember Chat Noir was Adrien, and Adrien proved to be a greater hero than even he ever dared dream Chat Noir would be.

           Marinette would remember because she owed him that much at least.

           The night she left Paris would be the last time she dreamed of a life with Adrien. A life where they got to grow old together; one where wedding bells were heard. And he’d kiss her every time she left. And she’d kiss him every time she came back. A life where they got to see where their love would take them, and maybe one day hear the pitter-patter of little feet on their floor.

           A life where Marinette did actually become a fashion designer. A life where she married Adrien, Alya was still her best friend, her parents were alive, the world was good and kind, and two heroes got the finale they deserved.

           A life where love was enough, and they got their happy ending. The forever they never got would haunt her forever.

           Marinette was fifteen when she went she joined shield and went back to doing what she did best; helping people, saving the world.

Marinette was fifteen when she became an Agent of Shield.

           Marinette was fifteen when she learned how to shoot a gun.

           Marinette was fifteen when she joined Black Hear became her mentor. The training had been a killer. More than once, Marinette had nearly quit.

           Blackheart would just shake his head at her and say, “Life is tough, kid,” He’d give her an easy smile. “But so are you.”

           Marinette smiled.

“You and me?” Grant said. “We’re the same. We’re Kevlar. We do whatever it takes to complete the mission. We get the job done. Keep our feelings and emotions; personal wants and desires in check. For the greater good. Its who we are. Whatever it takes.”

“Whatever it takes,” Marinette repeated back. “But that doesn’t mean we have to shut people out; each other out.”

“Yes, it does,” Grant said firmly. “Yes, I do.” He stopped talking and look Marinette in the eyes, “There are things about me you don’t know. I’ve done things I… Thing you wouldn’t like if you knew.”

“We all have,” Marinette shrugged at her father figure. “It’s a part of the job. I get it.”

           Grant smiled at her, “I know you do. I know you would. We’re the same. We know this world isn’t all happiness and rainbows but we don’t stop trying to save it. We don’t stop believing it can be saved; that what we’re doing has a purpose. But there are things I can’t tell you. Things about me… that you wouldn’t like if you knew. One day, I hope you understand though. I know we will. We’re the same. But You’re good.”

“So are you,” Marinette said. “Grant, you’re like the best guy I know. You’re good.”

“Not always,” Grant looked away. “You need to know, Marinette, I’m not a good man.”

“I believe you are.” She stated, “You can’t convince me otherwise.”

           It would a year later after much trust was built, and they had gone of dozens and dozens of missions that she finally learned his real name.

           Grant.

Over the next few years, Grant became like a father to her. And to him, she was like a daughter. He taught her everything he knew. Marinette did everything she could to make him proud. He made her believe that they could really save the world, change the world for the better.

Where Grant went, she followed; most of the time. Sky would slowly start to show up more and more; until it was clear she wasn’t going anyway.

Whenever she was hurt, and the mission was over, Grant would tell a story about his past.

           Her favorites were the ones about a monster who loved the sky. It was clear that it was about him and Skye. “Do you want to hear a story, princess?” He smiled. “It’s about a man who struggled with his demons his entire life. Who asked for love throughout his entire life. But he never got it. Until she came. She made him feel important. She made him laugh. She made him better. She became his world.”

           Marinette couldn’t understand what was stopping the two from getting together.

           She met Nick Fury when she was seventeen and was sent on the first on her first solo mission.

When she was eighteen, Grant and Skye were approached by a man named Coulson. The same Coulson that had supposedly been killed by a god named Loki. The strangest part was Marinette was tapped to join too.

The team consisted of Coulson, May, Grant, Skye, Fitz, Simmons, and Marinette.

They were a team. They became a family.

However, then John Garrett was revealed to be Hydra; a man Marinette had thought she knew well. (Grant killed him. And she mourned with him the man they thought John was.)

           Then project insight happened. Nick Fury was killed. Captain America exposed all of Shield in an effort to reveal Hydra.

           Shield was labeled a terrorist organization.

           The team was on their own.

But, Marinette thought more than once over the next coming months, at least they had each other.

They ended up at a place called Providence. They were given lie detector tests by Agent Eric Koenig. “Fury designed this himself,” The portly man said. “He wanted a lie detector Romanoff couldn’t beat.”

“Did she?” Grant asked

“Like Fury would tell!”

                       Marinette sat in the machine and tried to relax.

“We’re going to start with some easy question,” Eric told her. “Can I have your full name?”

“Marinette Clarissa Dupain-Cheng.”

“Eye color?”

“Blue,” Marinette stated.

           The agent nodded, “Have you ever been married?”

           Marinette shook her head, “No.”

“Please list your immediate living family.”

“My grandmother Gina,” Marinette answered. “My grandfather. I considered my team my family though.”

“What’s the difference between an egg and a rock?”

           Marinette gave him an “Are you Serious” look, “One's food, ones a weapon.”

“Have you ever heard of project insight?”

“Never.”

“Have you ever had contact with Alexander Pierce.”

“I have,” She answered honestly. “Once. Just after the New York Invasion. Agent Hill introduced me.”

“You wash up on a desert island, alone. Sitting in the sand is a box. What’s in the box?”

“How big is the box?” Marinette asked curiously. “How did it get there? What island am I on? Am I near freshwater.”

“Just say the first thing that comes to your mind, Marinette,” He told her. “What’s in the box?”

“A pair of earrings.”

           Eric gives her a funny look but notes her age and shrugs it off. Spy teen girls were still teen girls, after all. “Shield no longer exists. The agency has been labeled a terrorist organization. So why are YOU here.”

           Marinette thought about the question. She had thought about it before. Shield had fallen. No one knew who was or wasn’t Hydra. She should’ve been gone in the wind. However, she had never even considered it. “Shield is all I have. Ward, Skye, Coulson, May, Simmons, Fitz, Trip; they’re all I have. They’re my family.” She told him. “And truthfully, I joined Shield because I believe this world is worth saving. I believe it can still be saved. I believe that it is good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.”

“I love Lord of the Rings,” Agent Eric Koenig grinned. “Let’s get you a Lanyard, Agent Dupain-Cheng.

           While Skye, May, and Grant stayed at Providence, Marinette joined Coulson and the others.

           When Marinette returned to the base after saving the Cellist lady. The bus was gone. May was gone. Grant and Skye were gone.

           What was left of the team had debated long about what had happened; why the three had left.

           When Coulson said, “Worst case…  We've had a wolf in the herd the whole time.”

           Marinette didn’t believe that at first. Not until she heard the scream. Saw Agent Eric Koenig’s body. Saw the word written on the picture.

           Ward is Hydra.

“Not Ward,” Fitz said.

“Not Ward,” Marinette repeated. “Not Ward.” Skye was wrong. She had to be wrong. Ward couldn’t be Hydra. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

           Then Simmons gave the analyze of Agent Eric Koenig’s murder.

“Ward did this,” Simmons said.

           In a fury, Fitz smashed a few things.

           Marinette could only stare in space as the words penetrated her mind.

           Ward is Hydra.

           The man she thought she knew the best.

           The man she had sworn her loyalty to, had given all her trust to, had loved like a father.

           The man who had gotten her to swear loyalty to Shield.

           Grant Ward had been her S.O. Her mentor. Her leader. Her captain.

           Grant Ward was Hydra.

           And just like that, Marinette’s world shattered again.

           And just like that, everything she ever thought she believed in was questioned.

           It would be months before she saw him again, and by then it had been confirmed without a doubt Grant Ward was Hydra. He was the enemy.

           He would try to kill the team multiple times.  Grant Ward would do everything he could to get her alone to speak with and or to Skye. Like he could change their minds. He had gone full psycho Hydra and didn’t seem to be stopping any time soon.

           Marinette was captured by Hydra not long before her twenty-first birthday.

           She was tied up and chained to a desk.

           Grant Ward walked in with an easy smile on his face, “Marinette. This brings back memories.”

“Old Blackheart himself,” The bluenette hissed back. “Good to see you again. Oh, Wait! As your lot puts; Hail Hydra, right?”

           He nodded and sat down across from her, “Ladybug.”

“Just kill me,” Marinette shrugged. “I won’t tell you anything. You know I won’t. I won’t Hydra. You and the rest of the freaking Nazi can go to hell.”

           Ward looked shocked, “Kill you? You really think I would… I would never hurt you, Marinette!” He told her. “You have to know that. I would never want to hurt you.”

“Maybe not want to,” Marinette looked him dead in the eye. “But you will. All apart of the job, right.”

“Do you think this was easy for me?” Grant asked. “You of all people understand how hard it was; the impossible decisions that had to be made. You know what it's like to make a choice that breaks you inside. But we make them anyway. I made them anyway. Because that’s what I do. What we do.”

Marinette shuddered. “A Double Agent. Do what needs to be done. Betray everyone who loves you, cares about you. Because we don’t matter, only the mission does. Right? That’s what you tried to train into me; anything for the mission.”

“No!” Ward shouted. “That’s who you were before I ever met you. You don’t get to put that on me. That’s why Shield wanted you. Because you did whatever it took to stop Hawkmoth for good. Whatever it took for the greater good. That’s how I knew we were the same.”

           Silence.

           Ward stood up, “You’re good. I get that. I’ve always known that. But you understand me. You’re a soldier. I’m a soldier.”

“You are a monster,” Marinette said. “You finally convinced. There is no good for you.”

           Coulson, May, Lincoln, and Skye rescued her not long after.

           Grant and Marinette would face off with each other multiple; fighting to the death; fighting for the cause.

           Then one day, Simmons would be gone, Coulson would go after her, and when they came back; Coulson would tell her Grant Ward was dead. He killed him.

           Marinette wouldn’t ever admit it but her world shattered just a bit.

           However, Marinette would see Grant again but he wasn’t Grant. He was hive. And Hive would nearly take Skye from the team. He would take Lincoln.

           After months of fighting the monster for months; doing whatever it took to bring him down; Lincoln, a pretty blond man with light-colored eyes who dared to be a hero, sacrificed himself.

           And for the first time in years, Marinette was reminded of Adrien Agreste. She had thought about him occasionally, sure. But seeing Skye cry over Lincoln had reminded her just deeply of her own loss. And remember that she was the one who erased his memories. He wanted the last thing he saw to be her before he never remembered her again.

           Marinette was twenty-two when she went to the funeral of Grant Ward. It was in Paris. Marinette was the only one who went. There was nobody to bury but still, Marinette had him laid to rest, not too far away from her parents.

           No matter how hard she had tried, Marinette couldn’t find it in her to hate Grant. She had loved him too much. He had been such a big part of who she was.

           And she owed it to him to finally see him laid to rest. It was her duty, she supposed.

           That was why she buried him in the once place she once thought she’d never return. The place where she once dreamed of another life.

           As she stared at his grave, once again she dreamed about another life.

           A life where Hydra had never returned. Shield had never fallen. The Avengers weren’t torn apart in a civil war. The world didn’t seem to always be on fire. Skye was still an Agent. Fitz and Simmons were married. Tripp was alive. Lincoln was alive. And Grant Ward was good.

           It was a nice dream but she’d leave it in Paris with all rest of her childhood’s hopes, wishes, and dreams.

“You were right,” She told Grant, speaking directly to his headstone as if he was there. “We are the same. I do understand. I’ve always understood. In the end, we always do our duty. Its what defines us. Rest in Peace, Ward.”

           Marinette walked out of the cemetery with her head held high. She would stop for ice cream, and cross paths with a tall, handsome, green-eyed, blond man. He’d look right through her.

           And it only bothered her a little.

           Months after she left Paris again, for good she swore, she would hear on the news about the untimely death of Gabriel Agreste.

           She would notify an hour later that Master Fu has surfaced in Paris again. The man had been watched by Shield for years.

           She would be told that Master Fu had been spotted around Agreste home.

           Marinette didn’t blink twice. It wouldn’t matter. Everyone had moved on. Adrien had moved. Marinette had moved on. And as far as the world was concerned Marinette Dupain-Cheng was dead. She had died years ago.

           Seven months later, Coulson would bring her in to help train a new recruit. She would walk into the training room of the bus and see a tall, a tall, handsome, green-eyed, blond man with hope clear on his face, standing next to Coulson, looking at her like he was seeing the sun for the first time in years.

“Kitty?” Marinette whispered.

“My lady.”

           Marinette was twenty-three when her world shattered yet again.

[janesramblings]

Jealous

this one was requested by @stormofsansas and I had so much fun writing it, thanks for the request!

“Did you hear about Ace’s supposed girlfriend?” Bess asks me as I close the front door of my house and burrow into my coat. It’s only November, but Maine gets cold surprisingly fast. 

“Have I what?” I ask as I unlock my car and slide into the driver’s seat. Bess slept over last night, helping me figure out something vaguely Marvin-related. 

“Heard about Ace’s girlfriend?” I shake my head. “Yeah she showed up on your day off. Ace seemed really smitten.”

“Who says ‘smitten’ anymore?” I ask as I turn the key in the ignition. The car revs and then stops. I turn the key again with the same result. 

“Who drives ancient convertibles anymore?” Bess counters as I sigh and pitch forward against my steering wheel. “Sorry, that was mean,” Bess says. “I get like this when I eat raw pancakes.”

“Was that supposed to be an apology?” I ask as I sit up. Bess finds it hilarious that I work at The Claw and can’t cook. 

“Sort of. Hang on let’s see if we can call Ace and get a ride.”

“Sure. Maybe we can learn about his girlfriend.”

“Supposed girlfriend,” Bess corrects as she brings her phone to her ear. 

While Bess tries to get Ace to drive us to work, I try to figure out who would date Ace. Not that I think there’s anything wrong with Ace. I mean he’s kind, has great quips, and is incredibly handsome. There’s no denying that. And his talent for understanding a person is envious. But I just can’t imagine Ace dating someone. 

I mean, there was Laura Tandy. But she was too selfish. She used Ace to get what she wanted, and was willing to leave for Paris instead of staying with him. And then there were those girls who flocked around Ace in high school. I didn’t really pay much attention to Ace back then. He was a grade ahead of me and not particularly popular - he played one sport in his freshman year before he decided it wasn’t for him and the only club he was part of was the coding club because he didn’t like the president and wanted to disrupt it as much as he could - but he was the only one who could answer as many questions as me in my forensics class. I guess high school me was always in awe of him. And even though we’re friends now and I’ve considered him my equal for months, it’s always disconcerting when you find out people you admire are just human. 

Bess’s voice brings me back to myself. “What did you say?” I ask her.

Bess rolls her eyes at me. “I said that Ace is on his way over. And that girl is with him.”

“The girlfriend?”

“Supposed girlfriend,” Bess repeats emphatically. I shake my head at her.

Twenty minutes later I’m in the back of Ace’s car squished next to Bess, staring at the back of Callie Something-or-other’s preppy blonde head. When Ace pulled into my driveway she bounced out of the car in her three inch stilettos, kissed my cheeks like we were in Paris, and waved her stacks of bracelets as she called me “doll”, “honey”, and “darling”. I’m pretty sure my sinuses will never be the same after having to breathe the fumes from her tacky perfume. The whole time we stood in my driveway she clung to Ace like a life preserver, chocking the poor boy half to death. 

I don’t hate her. I don’t.

“So Nancy darling,” Callie purrs, “I hear you fancy yourself a detective.”

Bess and I share a look. I glace at Ace in the rearview mirror, trying to read his thoughts, but he’s closed off, his eyes dull. “Yeah, I guess that’s one way to say it.”

Callie wrinkles her nose at me like I’m a cute child that finally understood the purpose of wearing shoes on their feet and not their hands. “Have you solved any interesting mysteries around here honey? Anything fun in this small town I should know about?” My temper flashes at her overly-sweet tone. I can feel Bess nudge my elbow as a warning, but I ignore her. 

“Well, I did solve the mystery of the girl who fell off the bluffs after the Sea Queen ceremony nineteen years ago.”

“Oh great, she said it,” Bess mutters. 

Callie gives me a breathless “ohh” but her eyes are as dead as Ace’s. “What happened to her?”

“Oh she was slut shamed by the entire town and was pregnant with a baby who actually happened to be me and she jumped from the bluffs after I was born because she didn’t want to live and she came back to haunt my dad and also me so we could solve her mystery, which was also tied to the death of my dad’s wife. Turns out she was killed by my maternal uncle. I caught him to but not before he killed Bess’s cousin.”

Callie stares at me for a moment before squinting her hazel eyes. “You really should send me that video game. It sounds fun!” With that she swings back to face the front and I resist the urge to throw my messenger bag at the back of her head. I try to gauge Ace’s feelings again, but I can’t read him at all. And it’s a little annoying. Okay. More like very annoying. 

I glare at her until Ace pulls up in front of the Claw. I wait for her to get out of the car with Ace, talking a mile a minute (”ooo Ace is this where you work? It’s so cool that Horseshoe Bay has an authentic restaurant. You guys farm salmon or something right?”) before I bury my head in my hands with a groan. Bess starts laughing.

“What?” I snap.

“Your life would make a good video game.”

I reach over Bess, open her door, and unbuckle her seatbelt. “Get out,” I say only half jokingly. Bess’s smile drops and she puts an arm around me, pulling me into her. 

“It’s okay to be jealous. You like Ace and up until today, I thought he like you too.” I sit back up.

“I’m not jealous!” I say indignantly. Bess raises her eyebrows silently. “I’m not!” I repeat, sitting up. I’m not jealous of Callie.

At all.

“Alright. If you say so. You know your feelings best. But do come in sometime this century. You might have saved our lives, but George still expects you to work.”

“I know, I know I’m coming.” Bess leaves, giving me a minute to shout into my hands before climbing out of the car, crossing the parking lot, and pushing thorough the front door of the Claw. George runs to me when she sees me.

“Have you met this walking Barbie doll?” she whispers.

“Unfortunately,” I respond. George rolls her eyes.

“Serve her would you? She’s giving me a migraine. You’d think Ace would date someone with sense. Kinda like you.”

“Kinda?” I ask, amused despite my annoyance.

“Well, you don’t always have sense.”

“And here I was thinking you wanted my help.”

“Just serve her, Drew.”

“Do you want me to change?”

“Just go before she asks me for help,” George says dangerously. I do as I’m told. I pull off my coat and grab a menu before walking towards Callie, who’s at a table examining her nails. She grins when she looks up at me.

“Hi! You’re my waitress?”

“Seems so,” I say. 

Callie grins. “Well, since you like mysteries as much as I do, why don’t you surprise me? Talk to Ace, I’m sure he knows what I’d like.”

Okay, okay we get it. You know Ace. I force a smile and take back the menu. “Sounds great.” I turn on my heel and march towards the kitchen. “Your guest wants a surprise Ace. I’m gonna change. I’ll serve it when it’s ready.”

Ace looks up from the bowl he’s washing, startled. At least that’s one emotion I can read. “Okay.” I nod at him and stalk off. “And hey, Nance?”

“Yeah?” I say shortly, stepping back towards the sink. 

“Never mind.”

“Great.” I march off again, and change into my uniform with shaking hands. I have no idea why this girl gets under my skin but she does. Ace stops me on my way back to the tables. He looks like he’s about to say something, but he just shoves a plate of salad and fries at me. “Thanks,” I say, my tone softening as I meet his eyes. I can never stay mad at him. He smiles back at me, and my heart does that weird butterfly on steroids thing it’s been doing lately.

I walk towards Callie’s table and put the plate in front of her. “Oh look, Ace got it right! Did you know that the first time Ace and I went out in sophomore year of high school he guessed my dinner choice and he was right then. Just like he is now.”

“That’s great,” I say as a surge of... something rushes through me. “I gotta go.”

I turn as the tears start to fall. “Nance are you-” I ignore Bess’s question as I race for the lockers. Of course I’d ignore my feelings for Ace until the moment I have no chance with him. Because I’m incapable of any relationship with anyone. Not with Nick. Not with Owen. Not with any of my parents. Why would my relationship with Ace be any different? I crash into someone as I pass the kitchen, but I keep going without apologizing until someone’s hand is on my waist, stopping me. 

“Nancy are you okay?” I look up to see Ace looking down at me. 

“No Ace I’m not. So please leave me alone.” I pull out of his grasp. 

“Nancy, Nancy wait. You can’t push me away.”

I spin around, my jealousy replaced with anger. “And you can’t flirt with someone and bump into someone whenever you walk with them and call them brilliant and say you’ve never had a friend like them and then show up in their driveway with your girlfriend Ace! It’s rude to lead people on. So don’t tell me what I can and can’t do.”

Ace stares at me for a moment. “What girlfriend?”

“What?”

“I don’t have a girlfriend Nancy.”

“But Callie said you went out-”

“In sophomore year. Yeah. She’s my mom’s best friend’s kid. We went out once before deciding it wouldn’t work.”

What? “But then why did she flirt with you?”

Ace rolls his eyes. “Because I told her something about you and now she’s sizing you up.”

Oh. “What did you tell her?”

“She asked about my friends. And I said that there’s no one more important to me than you.”

I snort.

“No. Nancy. I mean it.” Ace steps towards me. I look up into his clear blue eyes. They’re not closed off anymore. They’re earnest. And truthful. “I’ve never met a girl who makes me more alive than you Nancy. And year I flirt with you. And bump into you when we walk. And I call you brilliant because it’s true. Because I... like you.” He reaches for one of my hands, and I let him take it. “I have liked you since you told me about failing senior year when I was out smoking. And I like you more every time I see you.”

I stand on my toes. I lose my balance and Ace’s free hand shoots out to grab my waist as I rest my hand on his shoulder. “I like you too Ace.”

He grins at me, his head dipping down towards mine. I stretch up until the space between our lips is gone, and oh god kissing Ace is the best thing in the world. I could stay here in this moment with his hand on my waist and our fingers intertwined forever. But we do break away, however, when someone starts applauding. We turn to see Callie, Bess, George, and Nick (where’d he come from) standing in the door cheering us on. I glance at Ace. 

“Well they’d know eventually,” he says.

“True,” I agree as we both drop into theatrical bows. 

[binniedeactivated]

saint. || soobin🌪(7)

🖤┊𝔰𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱 . ೄྀ࿐ 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: 𝖘𝖔𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖓 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: 𝖘𝖒𝖚𝖙/𝖆𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙; 2200

“did you tell your mom that you’re almost there?”. soobin asks while driving. “yeah. why are you so worried you look nervous?”. soobin laughs and pushes his hair back with his hand. “I don’t want her to try to kill you or something for being out a little more than she expected”. 

“when she really wants me home she’d call me like 30 times. But since she probably thinks i’m doing something that’s beneficial for me she’s cutting me a little slack. still expects me to be home though”. soobin nods. 

“so you have curfews?”. 

“unfortunately”. 

“what do you mean unfortunately? that’s good that they want you home by a certain time”. 

“I mean not for an 18 year old at least”.you say, and soobin shrugs, 

“honestly you wouldn’t want to be out that late for anything. even parties get too wild once it starts hitting 10″. 

“yeah but i wouldn’t know anyways. If my parents found out that i was partying they’d put me on house arrest”. soobin laughs once more, smoothly pulling up to your stop. 

“do you want me to piggy back you to the door? I’ll do it right now”. 

“no soobin i’ve been trying to tell you I could walk almost all day now. but thank you”. you smile before sliding out of your seat with your backpack. it really wasn’t such a hard task to walk even with the pain. It wasn’t like you had some fatal basketball injury or something. 

“be a good girl!”. soobin yells out to you as you approach your door. you wave him off before going into the house. he chuckles and drives off. He pulls into the driveway of his house shortly after, being welcomed by his friends who were sitting beside the pillars on his doorstep waiting for him. 

“what the hell are you guys doing here?”. soobin grins, he didn’t mind but only because his parents weren’t home. He jogs to the doorstep to unlock his door for them all and they spill inside his home. They’ve been there once or twice when his parents were really nice about it but never for long though. While holding the door soobin watches them all walk in one by one. Michael, Minho, Seongjun, Kevin, Beomgyu, and some random guy that he didn’t recognize. 

soobin pulled him back by the collar of his shirt.

“who are you?”. he questions. Beomgyu quickly comes to the boys’ rescue. 

“chill, don’t kill him. this is my boy yeonjun I thought i’d bring him along to hang with us”. 

“beomgyu all of you came to my house uninvited so why would you invite someone else?”.

the rest of the boys laugh in the kitchen while raiding his fridge. Soobin glares down at the blue haired boy and aggressively releases him, almost throwing him on the floor. 

“What’s your full name?”. 

“Choi Yeonjun”. he admits, fixing his shirt. 

soobin points at him and looks at beomgyu in confusion. 

“he’s a choi?”. 

“yeah but low key I think he’s from the poorer side of the family”. 

“there’s no such thing as a poor choi, beomgyu”. 

beomgyu shrugs. 

“I don’t know I met this fool like last week when I was skipping class”. 

soobin face palms himself before picking his head up again. 

“does your parents have money to your name?”. yeonjun nods at the question. 

“so this motherfucker rich too? damn! when am I going to get my inheritance?”. michael joked copping a squat on the living room couch with a can of cola in his hand. 

“michael shut your broke ass up”. beomgyu retaliates while slapping michael’s head before heading to the kitchen, leaving soobin and yeonjun still at the front door. soobin just stares at him. 

“why the hell you so scary?”. he asks in an overbearing tone. being quite intimidated yeonjun felt the need to defend himself. 

“why the hell you so loud?”. he retorts. 

“because this is my fuckin house and I have the right to be”. 

“this is not your fuckin house it’s your parents house until they die. then it’s your house. are you forgetting that I’m a choi too?”.

“who the fuck are you talking to like that?”. soobin booms stepping closer. 

“yo gyu come get your boys man”. kevin hollered overhearing them both. beomgyu jogs back to the foyer standing in front of the two. 

“ladies ladies! simmer down just a littl--”.

“no you need to check your boy gyu”. soobin interjects pointing in his face. 

“shut your bitch ass up”. yeonjun hisses. 

“yo yo! how about we just chill? I bought some beers with me. we can all have a good time”. beomgyu settles shifting his eyes between yeonjun and soobin.

“man whatever”. soobin rolls his eyes. he didn’t have the energy to keep arguing with yeonjun. plus he secretly liked him anyways, because he knew how to defend himself. 

“someone is in your driveway”. minho informs snatching back the curtains. Soobin cocked an eyebrow. “In my driveway?”. he opened his front door to see a blue sports car parked right behind his. He waited a bit to see who it was. out of the passenger seat came Mia who--well lets just say fury was an understatement. “oh shit”. beomgyu mutters. Soobin shuts the door behind him and tells the boys to stay inside. They all watch from the window.

“Are you fucking serious soobin? Like seriously are you for real?!”. 

“what the fuck are you talking about?”. he calmly asks with his hands shoved in his pockets. she approaches him angrily. 

“you fucking set me up what else would I mean?!”.

“nobody set you up”. 

gritting her teeth she throws pointless punches at his chest. I say pointless because they barely hurt soobin.

“why the fuck are you lying?! you brought me to that hotel and you let your friends run a train on me that’s so fucked up on so many levels!!”. she screamed. soobin smirked. 

“well did you enjoy it like I said?”. 

with steam almost coming out of her ears at this point mia raises a hand and slaps him across his face. soobin clenched his stinging jaw in anger. 

“fuck you!! fuck you you’re a jerk!”.

“don’t put your fucking hands on me”. soobin warns. and mia didn’t care of course. she lifts her hand and slaps again much harder than before. The boys covered their mouths while they watch from afar. 

“what did you get out of it huh?! huh?! is that how sick you are?! get your kicks out of seeing girls’ lives ruined?”. she shoves him backward.

“let me tell you something. that shit is going to haunt me for the rest of my life I’ll never get that moment back!”. she screams and broke out into full fledge tears. She raises her hand once more but this time soobin grasps it, he took every drop of liquid his mouth could muster and spat it right in her face. 

“I don’t give a fuck. you’re an attention seeking slut who does anything to be popular. let’s share that moment on our social media page”. he snarls before coldly going back into his house with a slamming door.

mia just stood there, not believing the fact that she had saliva dripping down her forehead. 

“I hate you choi soobin!!!”. she shrieks to the top of her lungs and stomps her way back to her car. All eyes were on soobin once he walks through his front door. most of them had their mouths still covered with the exception of beomgyu who just stood there with his jaw practically touching the floor.

“did you just spit on mia howard?”. yeonjun asks. 

“yeah i’m sorry who are you again?”. soobin replies being the ass that he was. yeonjun sucks his teeth and rolls his eyes. He was about to say something before he was cut off. 

“bro what the hell did she say to you?”. kevin’s next to ask. 

“some bullshit about how I ruined her life because you guys fucked her”. 

yeonjun blinks. 

“wait a minute. you all fucked Mia howard?”. 

“yup. choo choo!”. minho sounds with his lips taking another sip of his drink. yeonjun’s eyes bulge out of his sockets. 

“you surprised by that? who hasn’t fucked Mia howard”. seongjun adds. 

“me!”. yeonjun punctuates. 

“I mean besides the fact that shes the most popular girl in school you not missing out on shit”. beomgyu chimes in. 

“she’s the sexiest girl in school too”. yeonjun adds again resulting in a rage among the guys. all of them shouting ‘woah!’ sounding like seagulls.

“definitely most popular but i’d never say the prettiest”. seongjun says shortly after.

“hell yeah you know her best friend olivia bro? she can get it any day of the week”. beomgyu admitted. 

“why don’t you give it to her then?”. soobin challenged.

“she not going to fuck me because she knows I’m no good”. 

“get her drunk. you have a bar in your house don’t you?”. soobin pointed out.

“relax soobin. he has to take it slow. get her to send you nudes first and go from there”. seongjun informs and they all nod in agreement.

“that’s some smart shit”, beomgyu agrees. 

“I got in idea though”. minho spoke. 

“we should make a list of the sexiest girls in our grade. from the prettiest to the ugliest and just slap that shit on a bulletin board somewhere in school”. 

as childish as it was, they actually all got excited from that idea. so they all put their heads to the test. It was quite a depressing morning for some females in the Academy of saint joseph’s when the entirety of the school read it and saw their rankings. 

you however were too busy in the history room doing your extra credit work to care. “did you see the list”. you overheard way too many girls say. “yeah honestly i thought I’d rank higher than that”. their friend would reply in the most somber tone. you wondered why they cared about how someone ranks them anyways. Plus, who ever made the list where A-list jerks in your opinion.

no matter where you went everyone was talking about it. You haven’t overheard one single female who was happy with their spot on it.  It was sorrowful to hear. since you didn’t have anyone else to share your thoughts with on the subject you waited patiently until your astronomy class with soobin. you sat diligently at the table you guys shared together. there happened to be another video watching today and Sister helena was counting on you to keep soobin in check.

on the brink of the late bell soobin, kevin and beomgyu strolled in. 

“you guys are almost late. hurry to your seats”. 

“keyword: almost. you mad for no reason”. kevin rebuttals and laughs while taking his seat right in front of soobin who slid in the chair next to you, asking you how your knee was doing. beomgyu sits across them both. 

“today we will be watching a video on Dark Matter. I will be handing out questions for you and your partner to work together and fill out by the end of the class. If this task is not completed you will get half points for today’s grade”.

sister helena explains before she rolls the big tv in the room for you all to see.she turned off the lights and started the dvd. it was malfunctioning though, so it took her a little longer than usual to get it fixed. In the meantime the class was talking amongst themselves about that one thing, 

the list.

“soobin have you saw the list yet?”. you ask rather quietly.

“of course I have”. he replies. 

“what do you think of it?”. soobin shrugs.

“eh. it’s just a list”. 

“so you don’t think that’s a bad move to make? ranking people on the way they look?”.

“behind the list lies people with opinions. no one is required to believe them. they just do”.

“come on soobin that’s messed up don’t you think?”. kevin smirks to himself overhearing you. he turns around. 

“I don’t know why you’re so worried. I don’t even think your ugly ass is on the list because you ranked so low”. 

he said, of course loud enough for everyone to hear. loud enough for everyone to laugh. and they did. All you could do was sit there with a giant lump in your throat feeling nothing but sorry for yourself. 

“bro relax”. soobin hisses and kevin scoffs before turning around in his seat. 

“alright class simmer down. the film is beginning”. St.helena warns and you were grateful for her even though she didn’t hear anything. you were just glad she made everyone stop. 

so ugly that you weren’t even up there? that was enough to make you cry. you felt your face grow hot replaying his words over and over. you didn’t want to care about that damned list which is why you haven’t even saw it yet. but based off of what kevin said you didn’t even want to see it. 

you felt your lip start to quiver. soobin nudged you. 

“hey don’t worry about him alright? he doesn’t know what he’s talking about”. 

“try not to cry too loud, i didn’t see your name up there either”. Ava, one of mia’s friends whispers from beside you. 

you glared at soobin with tears in your eyes. you didn’t want to care but, words couldn’t express how ugly you felt. 

[andoqin]

Sisyphus: The Myth Ep 1- A Dissection

Okay, so I’ve had some time to process what I subjected myself to today, so I’ve decided to list everything in episode 1 that is just completely insane and an example of how Not To Do it. 

I’m not an expert on Film Theory, but i’ve watched a shitton of media, plus I watch a lot of Youtube Video essays, so clearly I’m half

The episode starts off okay enough even if we get a weird exposition dump and “tense” parting scene between a father and daughter. 

We start in what presumably is the time travel terminal where people stand around in pyjamas waiting to get through.

Okay, fairly interesting if unspectacular but I’m guessing that’s the point, this is now an industry. We zoom in and get this line that made me laugh, because well...

a) humans are living creatures and b) the amount of microbial organisms on human skin is estimated to be at hundreds of billions, or more. And this kind of time travel/teleportation is always hinky because well if you think about it, how does that even work without getting into The Fly territory. I’m willing to cut this drama some slack here and maybe it’s an awkward translation besides. 

This gets... exceedingly long, but if you want a (too) in-depth summary of what happens in ep 1 and why it doesn’t work (for me) read on :D.

But then the real trouble starts, because PSH’s dad (I’m not bothering to learn the character names) says he’s not going with her and this is apparently very sudden. He then makes her repeat some lines that are supposed to create tension? Be exposition? Idk.

“Don’t trust anyone.” 

“Don’t get involved with [CSW]’s character.”

PSH get’s teary eyed, because her dad is not coming with her, but the problem with scenes like these is: I don’t know either of them and do not have an emotional connection to their parting. Sure, it tells us something about PSH (she likes her dad and is worried about him) but I also don’t know how important her dad is going to be down the line. So when PSH asks about her mom and what if her mom dies and her dad just replies everyone dies at some point I’m a bit weirded out, but not to the point where I necessarily want to know more. 

We then smashcut to PSH waking up in a world that’s more similar to ours and she does what her dad told her to do. She grabs her (very inconvenient) suitcase and runs along the tracks she woke up next to. We see that she is somewhat surprised by the running trains and also hardy enough to track on despite bleeding feet. 

Alas, creepy people in gas-masks with guns and drones are waiting for her, so she runs even harder and after some near misses (they are able to track her by some sort of radiation meter) makes it to safety. 

On top of a train car that the TWO DOZEN PEOPLE WITH GUNS AND DRONES are too stupid to check apparently. Clearly if she’s not under the train car, the detecting devices must be mistaken. So she just chills on top of the train car, sitting on her suitcase and those goons trundle off after 5 minutes presumably like they’re Assassin’s Creed Enemy NPCs.

Now we get introduced to CSW in the most insane scene i’ve ever witnessed. Honestly. 

He is just ~chilling in 1st class in an airplane, filming a douche who is rude to the plane staff and epically owning him because he’s So Smart.

First of all, I don’t know what that has to do with soggy noodles(which the other asshole complained about), since by that measure the noodles should be *undercooked* (lower boiling point means longer cooking time after all) and secondly good lord I already hate this guy. He then proceeds to Epically Own (tm) with a convenient Forbes (sorry “Eorbes”) Magazine that he is on the cover of and flirts with the plane hostess. 

So right off the bat, our impressions of CSW are supposed to be: He’s Cool (look at his hoodie and general bearing), he’s Smart (debatable), he’s nice to The Help (I guess???) stands up to bullies, and most importantly he’s fucking rich. I guess we’re also supposed to get the impression that he’s arrogant, maybe a bit of an asshole, but still cool and everything. 

If this had been where the scene had stopped I would have rolled my eyes and then just continued on watching. But no, the writers thought: “Schooling some sexist rich asshole isn’t enough to show off how Cool and Smart and Cocky our main character is. Also he likes the ladies.” Look at him, he’s Tony Stark only from South Korea!!!

So shortly after he sits down, and we have the first moment with CSW where he connected with me emotionally (he sees the ghost of his dead brother and the way he says “because ... you’re dead.” and I thought OOOH this I can work with), the cockpit windshield is hit by what looks to be a suitcase (DUN DUN DUUUN) and something crashes into one of the engines, causing it to explode and catch fire. 

The pilot is knocked out and unconscious and even the co-pilot loses consciousness (after conveniently unlocking the cockpit lock). CSW is the only one who goes to check on the pilots, having grabbed a fanny pack from his onboard luggage and quickly assessing the situation he revives the copilot and welds the hole in the windshield shut with some ducttape out of his fannypack and a plastic notepad. IT’S VERY EFFECTIVE! They did it in WW2, or so CSW tells us so you know it’s true.

I’m not sure that ‘s how plane windshields and duct tape and plastic notepad thingies work, but well the plane is still in freefall we have more important things to worry about :).

The electrics are all on the fritz, the copilot cannot get control of the plane and so CSW takes a seat in the captains chair (having foisted the captain out of it, not even he is so crass to sit on some unconscious dude’s lap i guess) and quickly calculates that they have 3 min and 30 secs for CSW to restart the electronics before the plane crashes. So he hands the co-pilot HIS PHONE with a timer on it for 3.5 minutes so the co-pilot can tell him when 30 seconds have passed. Instead of idk, contacting Air Traffic Control or ANYONE he just sits there and lets his big boy brain work. 

After 30 seconds he has an idea, because he’s Tony Stark-ing it up like crazy now and can just figure out the electronics of a plane cockpit in 30 seconds, but guess what. HIS PHONE RINGS. AND HE ANSWERS IT, because he’s devil-may-care and “haha look at this, friend, i’m in the cockpit of a crashing plane we have 2 minutes before i’m dead.”

Said friend is calling him from the board meeting of CSWs company, bc of course the board is ~unhappy with CSWs antics (I gotta say I can’t blame them) and the friend doesn’t believe it at first, when he says he’s in a crashing plane, but checks on the news to see it’s true. 

I ... I don’t think news work like that, we’ve gone 5 minutes from the initial troubles till now, there won’t be news reports all over the media yet. THEY’RE NOT EVEN TALKING TO AIR TRAFFIC CONTROL YET. Hell he even tells his friend to call 119 or the airport for help. I just... I’m very forgiving of a lot of things in a drama when it comes to writing. I’m willing to ignore obvious blindspots in a narrative, if I think the narrative is strong enough to support whatever it’s trying to say. At this point what could calling the police or the airport do, they have like 90 seconds left...

I don’t know what the writers are trying to tell me with this scene though? It’s so stupid, so unrealistic and CSW is so unpleasant and weird in it, because he tells his friend that he has to confess to taking out the friend’s college girlfriend on a date while they were still together. 

Well since the drama is longer than one ep, they do make it out alive, but the fact that the co-pilot managed to safely LAND the plane (which is insane to me) gets skipped over and we just get news snippets that herald CSW as a hero who singlehandedly saved the planes passengers. 

We then get to see him in his natural habitat “convalescing” in his giant apartment where he is being showered with gifts by worshippers basically. He continues to be an asshole, but his friend tells him, one more stunt and the board will kick him. 

The board will kick the guy who just saved a plane full of lives????? Yeah right, I’m sorry but that’s just fucking stupid from the writers. Why would anyone do that, even if the board hates him, kicking him now, when he’s literally a national hero would be the worst thing they could do for the stock prices. It’s only here so the writers can shoehorn in that CSW is close to OD-ing on pharmaceuticals and that the board wants to monitor his therapy and they have a way of “forcing” him to comply. 

Also he has what looks to be a dental x-ray machine next to his bed. Someone correct me if I’m wrong but lol what’s up with these set design choices. 

His friend tells him to go to fucking therapy or else and the next scene he is actually at a therapist. 

Who’s his ex-girlfriend (they have a whole tangent about that).

Who writes a report about his therapy to the board. 

But hey at least the therapy gets us a flashback of the last time he saw his brother. Big surprise he was an asshole to him as well, so no wonder he’s traumatised by that.

After therapy he *conveniently* runs into the co-pilot who’s incoherent and beaten up and hands CSW a usb-drive. It contains video of the cockpit on the day of the crash and it’s obvious what struck the plane was a suitcase and what crashed into the engine was a human being (DUN DUN DUUUUUUN maybe someone forgot to convert feet to meters when setting up the time travel thingamabob).

As he looks at the (very pixelated) figure of the person about to crash into the engine, he suddenly sees his brother’s face and honestly this scene just made me laugh? I know it’s supposed to be haunting and more evidence of CSW’s deep trauma, but I guess at this point my brain was just completely checked out. 

And that’s what we end our introductory phase of CSW. What the fuck was that plane thing even for. To show us he’s callous in the face of danger? He’s an asshole even when he’s about to die, so he’s got a long way to go? He’s haunted by the spectre of his dead brother and the guilt he feels for not being there when he died? I got a lot of that before we had the insane Plane Adventure!!! There are literally millions of ways they could have gotten this information to the viewers and not made an absurd spectacle of the plot that means that everything afterwards just feels lame, because you already had the insanity that was this plane ride, so it can only go down tension wise.

Now we’re back to PSH, but honestly her parts are kinda boring and bog-standard “UwU I’m unfamiliar with this way of life, I don’t even know how to eat a banana (that looks *nothing* like a banana btw), so I just eat it peel and root and all. Also I’m from the Future, that means I obviously know todays LOTTERY NUMBERS.”

I know kdramas like clichés and tropes, I like them too, that’s why I watch kdramas, but you gotta give me a bit more if you want me to at least invest in PSH, because I’m sure as hell not invested in CSW. 

She gets taken in by some guy, because we can’t have her homeless all the time, and she needs someone to explain this world to her and also how to eat bananas properly and she opens her suitcase. It’s got both future-tech-y looking stuff and a pink notepad that seems to hold specific information on what needs to happen on certain days. 

She also makes this expression and I don’t know if we’re supposed to laugh because she’s not threatening or if we’re supposed to laugh because she’s not threatening, but we know she’s gonna kick ass later, haha you just thought she was harmless. I gotta say it’s the former for me.

Rarrr fierce Elite Warrior PSH coming to get you.

She tries to get in touch with CSW, already breaking one of her dad’s three commandments. Oh, I guess staying with this guy breaks the other two. Welp, so much for that then. What even was the point of that first scene...

Anyway she tries to get in touch with CSW but ofc you cant just call the richest person ever (Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos would get very angry voicemails from me if that were the case), but she manages to get his voicemail. Or a voicemail he spoke for. But oh no, she is just Not Familiar with this world and keeps having a conversation with the voicemail as if it’s CSW himself. 

CSW who has scienced his way to finding the suitcase that crashed the plane and as she begs his voicemail not to open the suitcase, of course he opens it and gasp the combination for the suitcase lock is his birthday!!! Something his brother used to do!!! 

MAYBE THAT MAN WAS HIS BROTHER AFTER ALL!!!! OH NO!! 

But thank fuck the episode is over now.

VERDICT:

Just no. Don’t do this. The latter half of the show is more standard fare, but the first 25 minutes destroy any capability of this show making sense. I can see what the writers are trying to do, but it’s so hamfisted and badly written I’m just not willing to go along.

If you want a show that also has a fantasy action aspect (and this show is all fantasy no matter how much it tries to science it up), watch LUCA instead. That show at least knows how to set a tone, how to get us invested in the characters and does exposition in a way that doesn’t feel obtrusive. 

[uwuwriting]

Homesick recordings

This is the first part of my 1.5K celebration. I present to you the sequel to “Moments in the life of Y/N L/N”, the angstiest piece of trash I’ve ever written. Thank you 1.5 K guys it means a lot, thank you for being here and reading my crap writing and thank you for supporting my blog. Love ya 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

When Y/N learns that her little girl is gonna leave for high school she suggests she tries recording herself when she’s feeling homesick. Sky believes that she won’t need it but as time passes she realizes that she might need her mom more than expected. 

Monday, April 4th 20XX

“Okay so how do I do this exactly? *camera falls from its spot* Ah crap crap Jesus! Is it still working? Yep yep it is there’s my ugly face hehe. God why is my hair like that? Anyways um…. Hi, I guess? Do you say hi to a recording? This is weird to say the least. Today was the first day of school as you might have guessed and it was ….awkward. I got lost in that huge building twice and I ignored some kids by accident because they called me by my last name! I’m used to people referring to you when they say our last name ugh this is gonna take some time getting used to. The teacher is ....unique. He came into our classroom in a yellow sleeping bag and proceeded to worm around the room like a caterpillar. I don’t think he is the really giddy giddy fun teacher; he wrecked us during training. Gave us a freaking heart attack with a so called prank he pulled. *exasperated sigh* Who says that you’ll be expelled if you score last?? I don’t get it!! His name is Aizawa-sensei and I already believe he doesn’t like me. He stared at me for a solid five minutes with a frown on his face during training. If I’m being honest he was watching me the whole day which is kinda weird. I don’t know how to take that. Is he interested in my quirk or is he asking himself why they put me in his class? I can hear his voice saying ‘why do they keep sending me imbeciles?’. Well mister you can’t get rid of me now I got in and I’m staying! HA! *bang on the wall* YO SKY KID KEEP IT DOWN MAN! SORRY TOYOMI-SAN…..That was one of my roommates….She is a social worker I think. Oh I almost forgot, the apartment I found is nice. It deserves its price I mean. But you already know that since I called you once I got back from school…. See why this is stupid??? I’ll keep telling you things you already know because I have Alzheimer and I don’t remember what you know. *sigh* Oh well I guess you’ll have to endure this torture, you are my mother after all and I’m your precious only daughter so what can you do really? I finished my costume design. It turned out pretty cool, I like it. The jacket you suggested makes it ten times better. I look like a pilot. Well technically I am a pilot. I pilot clouds and now that you’re not here to scold me when I’m flying around I’ll take full advantage of it. You can’t stop me mother! Anyways, it’s getting late and I have school tomorrow so I’ll end this here. I don’t know when I’ll record next…. Most likely when I’m feeling home sick again. Haha it's the first day away from home and I’m already missing you and those two idiots. *soft snort* Goodnight mom, love you.” *recording ends*.

Wednesday, April 27th 20XX     

“Hello again, it’s me, your neighborhood cripple. *wince* You could say I’m a sight for sore eyes because I’m sore all over. You’ve seen the attack on the news. Of course you have, everyone’s shaming UA high for lack of security. Why you haven’t called me yet is a mystery, I guess you’re at work? And before you start throwing a tantrum about me not calling first and blah blah, I wanted to record this first, let you see the actual injuries before I minimize them when I call you. *stares off* Something weird happened during the attack. Apart from the fact that well we were attacked and our homeroom teacher was almost beaten into a pulp, the villains were ….. interesting. When they first appeared I was teleported by this minecraft portal looking ass to another part of the USJ and to be honest I kicked some serious ass. That *wince* that was not the weird thing. While I was fighting I saw Aizawa-sensei facing some type of giant ostrich? Although that that thing wasn’t an ostrich…. I don’t know what it was but mom it was terrifying. *visible shiver* It just grabbed him and mopped the floor with him and I just couldn’t sit there and do nothing. So I went to help or at least that was my goal. That person who teleported me at the beginning tried to do it again and I may have snapped a little bit. I got so angry when he moved me to the other side of the arena that for a moment I totally forgot about what was happening. While I was fighting him his quirk kinda connected with mine. It was strange. Every time I shot a cloud at him the mist that surrounded him kinda engulfed it. It wasn’t only happening to me. I could manipulate his mist. Not every time just like he couldn’t sabotage my clouds every time, but it still happened. I don’t know why it happened or how it happened and I have no idea what I’m gonna do about it.  Maybe it was part of his quirk but it didn’t happen to anyone else…..*wince* God I have a headache. *chuckle* You do realize you are never going to see these videos right? Seeing me like this would send you into a comma and then you would come back to haunt me and my classmates. Anyways, I’ll call you and then I’m going to sleep. Love ya mom.” *recording ends*

Tuesday, June 3rd 20XX

“*walking back and forth in her room* You know how I said that Bakugou is a really fun person to tease? Well that was before he exposed me to the whole class.*laugh* In reality I’m not really mad, it was a nice comeback and if I’m being honest it was hilarious but it was still a shocker. We were going back and forth with that tik tok challenge where you expose your friend’s flaws. So I was standing there pointing out his superiority complex when he dropped the bomb…… ‘It’s the daddy issues for me’......THIS KID. THE AUDACITY. I thought my daddy issues were kept on the down low!!! I’ve done nothing to trigger this comment!! Sure I may or may not have told Mina that you raised me alone and about that counselor incident but that doesn’t mean I have daddy issues. *grumble* You need to have a dad to have daddy issues. Ughh God I hate him sometimes so very much. Thankfully the summer camp is tomorrow. I’ll get to wipe the floor with him in volleyball. I’m gonna draw those anger issues out…. I need some air. *three hours later* I’m back… yay. It’s weird to think about it you know. What you must have gone through when he passed. I know you don’t really like talking about him or anything before I came along but I would love to know what he was like. I’m not gonna ask you in real life of course, I would never do that to you. I know it hurts. I just wanted to say it out loud…*barely audible sniffle* … Well this got sentimental real quick. I think I should go to bed. I love you mom, goodnight.” *recording ends*

Friday, March 14th 20XX

“Of all the things that could’ve happened, this one was the last one on my list. Actually it wasn’t even on the freaking list, dammit! *sniffle* You know things like this don’t happen to everyone. I must be a really lucky person. Tell me one other person who gets to meet their dead parent in a high surveillance prison?? And above that I got an explanation why he was like this. Amazing right? God this is so stupid! I hate it. I hate this situation, I hate that I can’t tell you about it, I hate keeping you in the dark because at the end of the day I’m not the one who was in love with him. He may be my dad but I don’t have a connection with him! I never met him! He wasn’t there when I started walking or talking, he wasn’t the one who dropped me off on the first day of school, he didn’t teach me how to ride a bike, he-he * sob* I shouldn’t-shouldn’t be upset over this. Aizawa-sensei and Present Mic should be the ones sobbing on their floor. Not me. He doesn’t - I don’t- ugh - I don’t mean anything to him in the end. He died 15 years ago. That’s it. He was in love with you, he knew you, I was nowhere to be found. If he could reach out to us more than just a few words he wouldn’t know who the hell I was. *sobs* I have a picture of you two you know….It’s the one I had found when I was five. When you told me that that was my dad I felt like I could form a connection with the person in that photo. So I kept it, you never went through your old photo albums anyway and you never looked for the missing photo. And I kept it with me. I tore a small pocket in my backpack and put the photo there. I thought that having both of you with me at all times would bring me luck. I liked the fact that I looked like him. Now I realize how painful that must have been for you, seeing him in me everyday….and Aizawa-sensei, god, having me in his class must have been torture. He didn’t know that I was his friend’s daughter of course but I looked enough like him to bring back memories. God this sucks…. *deep breathes* I-I have practice so I gotta go. Love you.” *recording ends*  

Thursday, March 20th 20XX

“Hi, it’s me again. I know that I’m recording almost a week after the previous one but… mom I have been assigned a mission and it’s major. It’ll be an attack at a hospital where we believe that experiments are being conducted. We got that information from um what do I call him? *shakes head* from a prisoner in Tartarus, the high surveillance prison I was at last week? Yeah that one. The mission will be really dangerous, that’s what we’ve been told and I can understand that. I mean we are attacking a major operation of AFO, of course it’ll be dangerous. Since we are students we are to stay away from the hospital and monitor the surrounding area but…. I asked Present Mic to go with them in the hospital. I can help keep things in place and I can move people in and out quicker than any of them, plus this is personal. I think Present Mic understands that. He said he’ll talk to Aizawa-sensei about it but regardless….. I’ll find who did that to him, I promise you that. I want to know if...if this was all some grand plan because what they did to him they did to dozens other people and as much as I hate them for taking my father away, I also hate them for what they’ve done to all those other families…… I’m recording this because I don’t know if I come back in one piece or if I come back at all. This is very dangerous and we don’t really know what to expect. What we are getting ourselves into. I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for giving me everything that I needed in life. Thank you for being the best mom anyone could ever have. You raised me by pushing your own sadness and grief to the side and doing the best job you could. So thank you for being my mom and I’m sorry for the pain I caused you. I love you mom, so very much. Bye, bye mommy.” *recording ends.*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan @the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei  @dnarez-mangetsu @bemorefiction

[mordoriscalling]

48 Weeks (4/4)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

Throughout the 48 weeks that Geralt and Jaskier spend apart, their relationship develops.

Aka, part 3 of the Singer and the Sailor AU no one asked for but I wrote anyway. The events of this story happen after Stay or Sail Away but before Homecoming.

Weeks 37-48

Week 37

“I think I’m gonna write a book,” Jaskier announces.

“What about?”

“I’m not sure.”

Geralt snorts.

“I definitely have a story in me to tell,” Jaskier says defensively, “I can feel it. My music is about stories too, but I’m not ready to write a book yet.”

“When you think you’ll be ready?”

Jaskier smiles in a way that doesn’t bode well. “Maybe after my dear White Wolf tells me of all his sea adventures.”

Geralt does not like the implications of this. “No.”

“Geralt!” Jaskier whines, “You wound me! First you bewitch me body and soul, and now–”

“Don’t quote Pride and Prejudice at me, it’s not working.”

Jaskier pouts. “At least one little story? Pretty please?”

Geralt sighs. He still hasn’t learned to deny Jaskier anything.

Week 38

“I know this is a weird question but... is Eskel straight?”

Geralt feels a chill down to his very bones. “What?”

“I just... need this information. I don’t want to jinx it so I won’t say anything more for now.”

Geralt clenches his jaw. Eskel’s only two months older than him and in some ways, the two of them are all too similar. “He isn’t”, Geralt answers, “he’s mostly into women but there’re some men who catch his eye.”

Jaskier smiles like a cat that got all the cream. “That’s fantastic.”

Geralt grips the phone so hard his knuckle go white. “Indeed,” he grinds out.

Jakier’s face falls. “Geralt, what’s–”

“Have to go.”

He hangs up without another word and tries not to let this hurt him. He did see this coming. Yet, all the moments he and Jaskier shared, all the songs Jaskier sent him, everything of this is right there, painful like hell.

He misses home more than ever.

Week 39

“Geralt, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Geralt doesn’t want to. He didn’t reply to any of Jaskier’s frantic texts since the last video call. He only sent a message about when he would be able to talk this week and sure enough, Jaskier called at that time. Geralt wishes he didn’t. He wishes Jaskier just left already.

“Not bored of me yet?” he asks bitingly, all the bitterness of the past week coming up to the surface again.

Jaskier blinks. “I don’t understand.”

That angers Geralt even more. It’s not that hard to understand that he’s fucking hurt. “Stop fucking playing with me,” he growls, “Just say you want Eskel and leave me the fuck alone.”

“What.”

“You seemed happy to hear that he’s into guys,” Geralt answers, “so fuck off and go to him.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen. “Oh gods,” he says, then starts laughing.

“This isn’t fucking funny,” Geralt spats, furious now. Rejection is bad enough but ridicule is so much worse than that.

Jaskier stops giggling abruptly. “Oh no. I hurt you.”

Geralt grits his teeth and doesn’t reply.

“I’m so, so sorry.” The look in Jaskier’s eyes seems sincere. “I asked about Eskel’s sexuality because I have a plan to set him up with my friend Essi. I was happy to hear that he’s mostly into women because Essi is most definitely a woman, and a wonderful one at that. I’m trying to talk them into a blind date because I’m just sure they’d hit it off.”

Geralt suddenly feels like an idiot.

“I didn’t want to give you that impression,” Jaskier goes on, “I apologize, dearest. Eskel’s great but I love you.”

Geralt finds he can’t say it back today; Jaskier is too good for him. Instead, he musters an apology. Jaskier accepts and slowly, the tension between them eases, but the hurt lingers for some time.

Week 40

“Lambert is such a prick.”

Geralt huffs a laugh. “I see the first meeting went well.”

Lambert returned from his deployment a few days ago. Jaskier met him and Aiden yesterday.

“Well enough, I suppose,” Jaskier replies, “We called each other names but that was the fun part.”

Geralt chuckles. Jaskier rambles on about what’s going on back at home: Ciri's doing good at her piano lessons, Yennefer still tolerates Jaskier, Eskel and Essi have agreed to go out together. As Geralt listens to the cheerful chatter, his chest tightens.

Christmas is in two days. Spending the holiday on the ship isn’t bad – their celebration is almost like home – but Geralt hasn’t seen his loved ones in nine months. Usually, he would be on his way home around this time. Nine months is how long his deployments typically last. When they’re longer than that, being away from home starts getting unbearable again.

The sea can’t soothe him today.

Week 41

It’s their last video call of the year and Geralt wants to come clean.

“My hair used to be dark brown, even darker than yours.”

“Geralt, you really don’t have to–”

“But then in went white in a matter of a few weeks.”

Jaskier says nothing for a while. He looks unsure but Geralt waits for him to ask. Finally, he does. “What? How?”

“Blaviken.”

“Blaviken?”

Geralt swallows hard. His hands start sweating but he makes himself go on. “That was the name of the ship. I was twenty-seven, only a lieutenant. There was a sub-lieutenant there, Renfri. She and I... we had an affair, but we broke it off before we got deployed. During the deployment, she... she wanted to take revenge on one of the officers in command who harassed her in the past. She had a few of the guys on the ship on her side. They... took one crew member hostage, demanding the officer’s immediate resignation.”

“Holy fuck,” Jaskier breathes out.

Geralt’s heart is hammering in his chest. He forces himself to continue. “I was ordered to reason with Renfri but I didn’t succeed. She told her guys to attack me. I defended myself and knocked them out. Then Renfri attacked me herself because I ruined her revenge, and I...” He takes a deep breath and takes in Jaskier’s face for what he knows is possibly the last time. After drinking his fill, he looks away and confesses, “I hurt her too. Really badly. She never fully recovered and left the Navy the moment she could. I faced trial, it was a miracle I didn’t get expelled. People started calling me a Butcher and I was so fucking...” He trails off because his eyes are starting to prickle. The cruel disillusionment of that time – when he realised he would never be a hero after what he’d done – hits him all over again. It haunts him, even now, just like the way Renfri’s body went limp in his arms.

When he can speak again, he only adds, “After everything, my hair went white.”

He can’t even glance at Jaskier. A mixture of self-hatred, shame and remorse rises up his throat like bile. He listens to the ringing silence, waiting for Jaskier to finally say that it’s over.

Jaskier’s words are quiet and sorrowful, “I’m so sorry you went through that.”

It’s such a shock that Geralt can only stare. Jaskier’s eyes are brimming with compassion, which he never got from anyone but his family. No one else cared what truly happened on Blaviken. He was reduced to the Butcher, hated and feared. His infamy followed him like a shadow and Geralt wanted to out-run it more than he ever wanted anything in his life. And so, he worked himself to the ground to prove himself, then to keep his job because Ciri came into his life.

Eventually, he got promoted to lieutenant commander, then to commander three years ago. From the Butcher he became the White Wolf, known not for how he had hurt people but for how he cared about crew safety, demanding complete adherence to the rules. He’s now feared for his strictness, and it’s said that he could even become a Royal Navy captain.

Yet, Geralt noticed that he'd started drifting away from his family, especially Ciri, he slowly understood that enough was enough. The sea is what Geralt knows and finds solace in, but he wouldn’t be where he is now without the support of his loved ones. He’s been choosing the sea over them for long enough. 

And now, somehow, Jaskier has become one of them. It’s irrational and too quick but Jaskier tells him he loves him even when he knows about Blaviken. Geralt decides he wants to keep him in his life indefinitely.

Week 42

“Happy New Year, my love.”

“Happy New Year,” Geralt replies, a smile tugging at his lips. He’s sure the year will be happy, with Jaskier there.

“I have a song for you,” Jaskier says, “to kick this year off with something good. It’s just... what I wish for us.”

“Something good” doesn’t begin to cover it. The song is slow and sensual, and it speaks of being in love. Of Jaskier being in love with him, loving and admiring him despite and because of knowing him well. Geralt listens to the song on repeat until he dreams of it, wishing that it was true.

He suspects that Jaskier has a wrong idea of him – an ideal which he won’t be able to live up to once he comes back. There’s a good chance that he’ll let Jaskier down and what they have won’t last.

And yet, he’s selfish and wants it to be real.

Week 43

Jaskier turns thirty-six today and Geralt has only one thing to say.

“I wish this too, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s smile is watery and beautiful. “Happy birthday to me, indeed.”

Week 44

“Ciri keeps talking about that boy –”

“What boy?”

“You know, the new one in her class? Dara?” Jaskier looks at him expectantly. After a moment, the name rings a bell. He nods and Jaskier goes on, “I think she likes him.”

Geralt freezes. “Likes him?”

“Well, not likes him likes him but... they’re attached at the hip already. It’s great to see her make a friend like that, you know.”

Geralt hums in understanding. Ciri is friendly but other children are a bit hard on her. Many teachers are fond of her and the kids are jealous, thinking that it’s because Ciri’s parents are of high status. Ciri did earn her position as the favourite but it is true that no teacher would want to get into the black boots of a high-ranking government official and a Royal Navy commander. Now, Jaskier entering Ciri’s life only added fuel to fire in this aspect.

Sometimes Geralt thinks he shouldn’t have fought Yennefer tooth and nail when she wanted to send Ciri to the poshest school they could afford at the time. Geralt didn’t want his daughter to grow up in that environment but Yennefer wanted her to receive a top-quality education. In the end, Ciri went to a state school with high educational standards, but when the problem with other kids’ treatment of her appeared a few years later, Geralt regretted his stubbornness.

At least Ciri has always taken it in stride. She’s even more stubborn than he was, refusing to let it get to her, and Geralt adores her for it. It’s a relief, though, that she’s finally made a close friend.

“Thank you for looking out for her,” he tells Jaskier.

“Honestly, Geralt, I’m honoured that you allow me to do it. Yennefer would never let me.”

Geralt chuckles. “She wouldn’t.”

“And yet, despite her clear disdain of me, I’m starting to like that witch-bitch.” Jaskier sighs dramatically. “Alas, it appears she’s actually admirable and has a good taste in everything. Especially men.”

Geralt rolls his eyes.

Week 45

“Essi and Eskel are now a couple!” Jaskier exclaims excitedly in lieu of greeting.

“That was... fast.”

“That’s because they’re a perfect match!” Jaskier boasts with a grin, “I knew exactly what I was doing, I’m one of the best matchmakers out there.”

“What does it make Lambert?” Geralt asks.

“What do you mean?”

“He did matchmake you. With me.”

Geralt can clearly see the moment the realisation hits Jaskier.

“God-fucking-dammit, I’ve been bested!” he laments, "By fucking Lambert!”

Geralt quickly regrets pointing that out. Jaskier refuses to shut up about it.

Week 46

It’s Geralt’s forty-first birthday. The crew sang him happy birthday to his utter disgust, at which the fuckers were delighted, and now it seems that yet another person wants to celebrate his existence.

“I have a gift for you, love,” Jaskier says with a smile.

He props the phone against what Geralt assumes to be the music rack. When Jaskier sits down, Geralt gets a great view of his face as he starts playing.

The slow piano melody entrances Geralt at once. After some time, Jaskier starts singing, his voice low and soothing. The song is full of gentle, loving, grand promises. Geralt’s breath is taken away as he watches Jaskier sway to the music with his eyes closed, basked in the afternoon sunlight, looking like a creature from another world.

All the songs Jaskier’s written for him speak of such a strong feeling that Geralt is afraid to reach for it when he returns. If it were to crash and burn, the disaster would be spectacular. All his previous relationships ended badly; he knows he should be cautious.

And yet, Jaskier lures him in. He’s bright and full of life, ridiculous and annoying, warm but sharp. Jaskier feels like safety, he has from the start. And so, Geralt lets himself have this.

“Siren,” he murmurs after the last notes of the song die down, “thank you. It’s a beautiful gift. You are a gift.”

“Godness, Geralt,” Jaskier breathes out, “don’t say such things.”

“Why not?”

“I can’t be responsible for my actions when I hear you say something like that.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to hold back,” Geralt replies, “You are a gift.”

Jaskier’s gaze darkens. “Just you wait, Geralt Rivia,” he says huskily, “the things I’m going to do to you–”

Week 47

“All right, young lady, time to show off!”

Jaskier angles his phone so that the camera shows both him and Ciri as they sit by the piano in his house. Ciri smiles at Geralt and waves in greeting. Geralt smiles back, giving her an encouraging nod, and she places her fingers on the keys.

“Ladies and gentlemen, and everyone in-between and outside of that spectrum,” Jaskier says in an announcer voice, “I present to you Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia, who will play Chopsticks for this esteemed audience!”

Ciri snickers and then begins. She plays slowly, yet to Geralt’s untrained ear, she keeps the rhythm and doesn’t miss any notes. The song lasts only a minute or two but Geralt is still very proud of her.

“Good job, Cub,” he tells her, making her smile.

“Indeed!” Jaskier seconds, “You’re a talent, sweetheart.”

“Maybe I got it from dad,” Ciri jokes.

The joke warms him to his very core but he snorts because the very notion is beyond ridiculous. “I wouldn’t be able to play well if my life depended on it.”

“Have you tried, though?” Jaskier asks with a smirk that bodes trouble.

Ciri grins like a brat she is. “We could learn together, dad.”

“A splendid idea, Ciri!” Jaskier exclaims. “Now, how can we talk your dad into it?”

Geralt faces two pairs of bright eyes and matching mischievous smiles, and he knows he can’t say no.

Week 48

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe it.” Jaskier lets out a small laugh. “Am I dreaming? Just... it’s been so long.”

“Hmm.”

They don’t talk much, only smile at each other. Geralt can almost sense Jaskier’s excitement through the screen, and he shares the feeling.

Tomorrow, he returns to his family. Very soon, finally, he comes back home.

To Jaskier.

*** 

A/N: Thank you for reading! If you’d like to revisit this fic as a whole, you can do so on AO3. 

The list of "Jaskier's" songs in this fic: Vor í Vaglaskógi by KALEO Movement by Hozier Wish That You Were Here by Florence + The Machine Pass Them By by Agnes Obel Muddy Waters by LP Venus by Sleeping At Last Coming Home, Pt. II by Skylar Grey Angels by the xx I Hold You by CLANN

It would be... a hell of an album.