#wicker is meant to look kinda scary
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bits-n-bobb1es · 2 months ago
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What if…. i made this blog… about my silly little guys. My beloved creations. My silliest soldiers…
Perchance.
Have a collection of wips and funny doodles to help you decide.
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hol-whore · 5 years ago
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erina pendleton x fem!reader -- poetry, ch. 2 : story
You and Erina break some very, very thin barriers.
notes: again, link is to ao3! this is uhh,,, little bit hurt/comforty i suppose, erina and you spend quality time together, and.... a confession! whaddya know. that’s crazy.
You haven’t spoken much to Erina in days.
After her sudden request to “give back” to you and your subsequent realization of your emotions (and, quite possibly, her emotions), you had frozen up completely, unable to utter a word to her. She ended up hurrying off on her own, back to her chambers and locking herself in.
Lady Erina hadn’t asked you to stay with her once since then.
It kinda stung, really.
You even offered, a few times, only to be met with silence.
Anytime you see her, she’s thumbing through the poetry book you’d gotten her, mouthing the words she read under her breath and furrowing her brow. You’d seen her crying a couple times, but reaching out to her did nothing.
She seemed so frustrated over something, and you had your suspicions, but not ones you could bring yourself to ask her about.
2 days pass.
3 days.
4 days.
After 5 days of almost pure silence, Erina smiles at you and says thanks after you dress her and make her bed that morning.
She calls for you at lunch, and when you open the door to her chamber, she looks like a new woman. Her skin is so bright and flush with color, a wonderful pale yellow dress adorned in bows and such hanging on her as if she were born wearing it. She smiles at you, holding up a wicker basket and an old bedsheet.
“Come, maid, it’s lovely out.” she pleads, offering you the sheet, “I had the cook prepare light sandwiches and fruits, like we did when we were younger.”
“Milady…? Is everything okay?”
She meets your question with a playfully-hurt expression, pouting a little. “It’s just been so long, and it’s so warm. I need to get out of this stuffy old room.”
That was the truth.
You take the sheet under your arm and Erina smiles, then leads the way out of the manor.
-------
The old, gnarled tree you usually shared your picnics at is abundant with life, and it’s incredibly refreshing. Ivy curls up the trunk and wildflowers bloom all around the meadow; you and Erina marvel at their simple beauty, pointing out your favorites. Erina insists on braiding them into your hair, and you retaliate by sticking some behind her ear. Birds chatter above you, telling their stories to the wind as the two of you relish in each other's company, talking about everything and yet nothing.
Erina lays your head in her lap, gorgeous blue eyes watching you fondly as you -- lovingly as possible -- gossip about the other maids, and discuss your plans to surprise the cook with a new knife set for her birthday. Her hands thread through your hair now and then, brushing it back in place when the wind picks up. You feel like pudding, settled so close to her like this.
The afternoon continues even past your lunch being finished, the two of you laughing and joking as if nothing had happened.
But of course, something had happened.
You finally sit up, turning towards her while you catch your breath from laughing too hard (Erina could mimic her father’s old butler perfectly). You clear your throat and find the courage to reach for her hands. She looks at you as her laughter dies, something like worry and excitement filling her eyes, and squeezes your hands gently.
“Milady, I...I was worried about you. I hated seeing you so miserable, and it felt like you’d be like that forever.” You swallow hard and suddenly realize your hands are shaking.
Tell her, cries the voice in your heart, tell her you love her more than anyone ever will. Tell her you love her as the flowers love the sun and the birds love the wind.
You don’t, of course.
Your heart picks up as you continue, unable to stop yourself. “I-I thought I was going to have to go the rest of my days not seeing you as yourself anymore, or staying by your chair as you read, or hearing your laugh -- oh, your laugh…”
You’re crying a bit, now, and Erina holds your hand tighter in hers. She scoots forward some, gently raising your hand in hers to her cheek, then presses her forehead to yours and sighs shakily.
“Dear heart, I couldn’t bear to do that to you. To myself.” She sniffs, and hesitates for a moment before pressing a chaste kiss to the sweating palm of your hand. Her lips are so, so warm, her cheeks are wet with tears, and when she pulls away her eyes are puffy and red.
And yet, she’s still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You can only stare at her, awestruck, and Erina giggles softly through faint tears. She casts her eyes to the side and brushes loose hair behind her ears.
“I’m sorry. For worrying you and about the other day. I don't know what got into me, but… well, I would be lying if I said I didn't mean it. And a good lady never lies. You’ve been so good to me, always doing more than expected and offering a listening ear, and I owe you so much.”
“Mi-” you pause, remembering her words, then start over. “Lady Erina, most of my services are employed. You don't owe me a thing, really.” You bite your lip and steel yourself a little. “Though, I suppose if it means that much to you, I can’t quite say no.” That feels too forward, insists your nerves. “Just this once.”
Well. You were not a ‘good lady’; “Just this once” was a lie. Deep in your heart, you almost wish Erina could bathe you anytime. It just felt slightly less wrong, now.
Erina looks overjoyed to hear just her name from your mouth. She grins wide, her eyes lighting up and her cheeks flushed red. She looks around briefly, then takes off one of her gloves, pushes her thumb into a patch of dirt by the sheet, and smears it onto your cheek before you can stop her.
“Oops. Bath time, then?” she giggles, her delighted grin now more coy and smug, and you can’t really be mad at that. You roll your eyes, rub your fingers in the same patch, then hold her face in your hand and smudge the dirt down her cheek.
“I suppose we must; look at you, Lady Erina, such a mess.” you tease, feigning disappointment. Erina laughs like a bell and gives you a playful slap on the wrist, then stands to dust off her dress. She helps you to your feet, a goofy grin on her face as both clean up your picnic.
-------
Erina is the first to be washed up; with you so familiar with her routine, it takes no time at all.
When it comes your time to bathe, you suddenly have to fight your heart out of your throat as you realize the reality of what’s happening. She offers you a small smile and gently turns you around, delicate hands working your dress off your body.
When she said she wanted to give back, she meant every step.
It doesn't take long, of course; your simple dresses aren't as robust as Erina’s gowns sometimes are. But Erina still takes her time with it, and sets every layer down as gently as you would treat hers.
The water is fresh and hot as you lower yourself in, resting your back against the wall of porcelain and sighing. Erina hums something under her breath as she stirs the water around. It feels weird being so exposed around her, but she seems completely unfazed, if a little bit flustered once in a while.
You catch her staring, on occasion. Something tells you you should feel violated or something; but the gentle adoration plain on her face is too comforting and warm. You feel more at ease than you expected and, if you were being honest, you were glad it was her getting to see you so vulnerable.
Erina passes the time reading to you and making conversation as if nothing else mattered. It all feels so natural, so right, just the two of you in your own privacy. Almost like you belong together this way. And when you run out of talking points and lose interest in the books and she asks to wash you, you decide her hands even belong on you.
They sweep over your shoulders and down your back with ease, first bare, then with a soft rag. She takes extra care wiping the dirt from your face when you turn around, dabbing under your eyes, brushing her thumb across your lips. Her eyes flutter shut as she presses a kiss to your forehead, completely unprompted, and she’s delighted when she sees you smiling up at her instead of looking scared or hurt.
She brings her rag across your sternum, rubbing gently, and her hands falter a bit when she touches your breast and stomach. Her face is flushed deeply when you look up at her, and she clears her throat awkwardly before continuing.
She doesn't wash past your hips -- you rarely did for her, after all, -- but she does go so far as to wash your feet, something you figured she’d find to be way beneath her, even with her humility.
When she washes your hair, you swear you could fall asleep. Her hands work your scalp, gentle yet firm, and something about the feeling puts your heart at such an ease that you aren't quite sure you’ve felt in years. All you can do is sigh and lean into it, and Erina laughs quietly.
“You’re lovely, dear. Is this not the best feeling, being cared for? Do you see how I feel with you?” she mutters, pressing a kiss to your back and rinsing shampoo from her hands. Your heart aches at that, deeply, and you can only muster a nod. Erina takes her time washing the froth from your hair, and only after she’s completely certain it's thoroughly rinsed does she help you out of the tub. She hands you a towel and smiles warmly, letting you dry yourself as she picks up the books you two had been discussing and takes them back to her room.
You sit on the stool, absently patting water from your body and stewing in your thoughts. As scary as it would probably be --- though you doubted she would react negatively, at this point --- you wanted to confess so badly. Years of being by her side had made your heart so soft over her, but you’d not realized the words for it till that day she’d shut herself away.
All the kisses on your head and shoulders, something you’d only seen couples and sisters and friends do, made you that much more convinced you needed to tell her.
But how?
Erina knocks once on the bathroom door, and you hurriedly dress yourself before letting her in. She looks exasperated and apologetic, a clean pair of gloves and a soft blue dress adorning her body. She sighs, handing you a small slip of paper and pouting a little.
“Father’s sent a carriage this way; there’s some surprise dinner he wants to take me out for.” she mutters rather quickly, “I had no idea it was already 4:30…Oh, I love him, but I do wish he’d communicate better. I’ll not be gone long, but here’s a couple things that I need done.” She stops a moment, then offers a small smile. “We’ll spend time together tonight, yes? Tea and more reading?”
And as soon as you nod, Erina is off.
You peek at the note; it’s nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual clean-up, until you notice “page 124” scrawled hastily along the bottom. There’s no title, but you immediately have a feeling you know where to look.
A slight panic rises in your heart, and you decide that looking now would interrupt your focus while cleaning. You make a mental note to look in the poetry book while cleaning her room, later, then set to work with your other duties.
-------
You do not, in fact, remember to look for the page she’d noted. You mind gets too full of distracting yourself, of hard work, and as soon as you settle in to your quarters to rest your eyes, you fall fast asleep.
It’s 8:23 when one of the other maids comes around, touching your shoulder gently and rousing you from your slumber.
“Miss,” she starts shyly, a frail smile on her face, “I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your rest, but Lady Erina’s requested your presence in her chamber.”
Hazily, you recount the evening and realize with a heavy heart that, while you had gotten most of your work done, you’d forgotten to clean her room.
And therefore, had forgotten to read whatever note she’d left for you.
You all but jump to your feet, thanking her quietly and tidying your appearance in the mirror before hurrying to Erina’s room and knocking on the door gently. She greets you warmly, beckoning you in and closing the door tightly behind you before gesturing to the small table and pair of large chairs you two always read in. They’re facing each other, which is new, and there’s only one book; Erina looks anxious as she sits herself down on the edge of the table (This also catches you thoroughly off-guard, but you say nothing) and makes a motion to your usual chair.
Your heart races, unsure of what to say at first, then you give her an uncomfortable frown and sigh as you sit.
“Sincere apologies, Milady, I. I fell asleep. Before I had the chance to clean in here, a-and I saw you left a page number for me to look at, presumably, but it slipped my mind and-”
Erina laughs somewhat at that, clearly anxious.
“There, there. I… I think I don’t mind explaining it myself anyway.” she practically whispers, picking up the book and opening to the near-back.
“While I was finishing this collection, I read something in the commentaries from the contributors that made a little too much sense. It…made me think of myself, and of all the books you've brought me, and of you. And I thought at first that, perhaps, these were the words of one of the male contributors; there was only a last name, after all. But after carefully looking at the poems by this person, it was fairly clear she was a woman.” Erina clears her throat nervously, and casts you a frail glance.
“Would you like to hear it?”
You hear your heart in your ears as you nod.
Erina takes a deep breath, then quotes the text softly, “‘I love and only love the fairer sex and thus beloved by them in turn, my heart revolts from any other love than theirs.’” She meets your eyes, then closes the book and leans forward, taking your hands. Her hands are sweating, shaking just a little, and she breathes deep.
“She loved women, darling, and I… I think I do too. And I think I love you. I didn't know what to feel after I read it, and I was afraid. I didn't want to scare you off. But I remembered our history so fondly, and all the books you and I shared with women who loved, and I feel like they loved more deeply than people think.”
Erina pulls you forward, closing the small space between you both, and presses her forehead to yours as she did earlier. “I am in love with you, my treasure. I don’t want you as a maid, working yourself to the bone because you must. I want you, wholly and truly. I want you as dear Jonathan and Robert have each other. I want your hands in mine, always, and I want you by my side through life as a partner, and I want you in my bed at night so I never have to feel alone.”
You’re speechless --- any plans you’d even considered that involved confessing your feelings deflated, replaced by relief and raw emotion unlike anything you’ve ever felt. You feel tears fall from her face onto your hands, and you pull away to wipe them from her cheeks. And despite your shock, you know exactly what to say.
“I love you too, Erina.”
There’s only a brief moment of stillness between you before Erina leans in and presses a soft kiss to your mouth. The world feels like it melts away around you, and you kiss her back, cupping her face with one hand and smiling against her lips. It’s not unlike a dance, one of you pulling away to breathe then the other bringing you together again. You don't know how much time passes before she pulls back for good. She sighs and looks at you through lidded eyes, her hand coming to stroke your cheek lovingly..
“Stay tonight, my darling. It is so cold in this lonely bed…” she mutters, hands clutching yours as if you would disappear if she didn’t.
And, as usual, you wouldn't refuse an order from your Lady.
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woofools · 5 years ago
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This was supposed to be a Valentines fic, but life prevented me from working on it until the last minute, and as per usual I rambled too much and ended up writing more than I originally intended. Whoops.
This is set sometime mid-season one, in case I failed to make that clear within the work itself.
Love’em Day was probably the most boring holiday in creation as far as Yang was concerned. There wasn’t an opportunity to get cool presents like with Family Day – just flowers and jewelry and girl stuff. The chocolate was okay, but at this time of year it was all heart-shaped. Bleh. There wasn’t even anything fun you could do to get the chocolate; with Weenie Howl you at least got to dress up and do scary stuff. Love’em was a whole day dedicated to love and romance and oh someone please gag him with a fluffy pink heart already.
The fact that Lina was out of town at a farmer’s market with her family and Yang had no opportunity to give her the very expensive (eh, decently expensive, Master Yo still wasn’t giving them an allowance) box of chocolates he’d gotten her definitely had nothing to do with it.
So instead he was sat on the couch, videogame controller in hand, eyes glued to the tv, box of chocolates open next to him. (Look if Lina wasn’t going to be around to eat them, that really left him no choice but to eat them himself. They could go bad by the time she got back home sometime tomorrow. He couldn’t give the girl he liked bad chocolate. But he’d spent good money on it, so he couldn’t let it go to waste…)
He was in the process of repeatedly slamming a mini-boss into the floor when he caught movement in his peripheral. He didn’t bother looking up, he knew who it was.
“Hey, um, have you seen Master Yo?” Yin asked.
Yang shook his head, still not looking up from the screen. “Nah. I think he went down to the bank to hit on the teller again. Or the car dealership, or the real estate office, or anywhere else he could think of to pick up someone so he wouldn’t be alone on Love’em Day.”
“Aw, that’s kinda sad…”
“Yeah, and pathetic.” Yang shrugged as he mashed buttons. “As long as he doesn’t get so desperate he calls Carl’s mom or something, I really don’t care.”
He was half expecting some kind of lecture from Yin here, so he was a little surprised when all she did was murmur something noncommittally. Hm. Weird and very not-Yin-like. Taking first opportunity to pause his game, he looked over towards her.
“Where are you going?”
Yin froze in the doorway for a second, then spun to face him, smiling. She had a wicker basket dangling off her arm, which was positively overflowing with pinks and reds and hearts coming out the wazoo. Yang’s innate boy-ness felt queasy at the sight of it.
“I’m going to hand out Love’em Day cards!” she said cheerfully, holding up the basket slightly. “Wanna come?”
A shudder the likes of which could only be brought on by frilly, girly things crawled up his spine. “Pass,” he said returning to his game.
“Suit yourself.”
He heard the door close behind her as she left, and after a few more combo-moves he crammed a handful of chocolates into his mouth. A realization hit him mid-chew, and after reflexively swallowing a(n honestly, should’ve been chewed more) wad of chocolate, he blurted, “Aw, man!”
He’d meant to make some kind of crack about Coop to Yin today! What kind of brother was he if he didn’t take every possible opportunity to tease his sister?
He redoubled his efforts to crush the boss (his momentary distraction had cost him a fair chunk of his HP), pouting slightly. Oh well. He’d catch her when she got home.
*****
Love’em Day was probably Yin’s favorite holiday of all time. For starters, there was always lots of pink everywhere – always a major perk in her opinion – there was always lots of flowers, and there was always lots of chocolate. And it was centered all around showing people you cared about how much you loved them! It was the best!
And Yin had an especially good feeling about this Love’em Day.
She’d left Yang and Master Yo’s Love’em cards on their beds. She’d made them herself. She’d tried to make Yang’s as over-the-top and flowery and pretty as she could (what kind of sister would she be if she didn’t antagonize her brother with non-offensive things he’d hate?), but she did really hope Master Yo would like his. She felt kind of bad for him, being all alone on Love’em Day… with any luck her card would make him feel a little better.
She made her rounds to her friend’s houses, depositing Love’em cards in their mailboxes and slowly making her way towards the park. As she was closing Lina’s mailbox, she noticed movement down by her feet.
“Aww, hey there little guy!”
It was a cat. A kind of mangy one, granted, but it looked to be a stray. That was hardly its fault. Anyway it was still a kitty, so it was still cute. Plus it had really big, pretty amber eyes—
Wait…
“Yuck?” she asked dubiously, then glanced around. She’d probably said that a little too loud. Luckily, there didn’t seem to be anyone near enough to hear.
The cat tilted its head, offering her a grin too sharp to be from an actual cat.
An incredulous laugh bubbled out of her. “Ohmygosh, I literally didn’t recognize you at first! Transfoomate?”
The cat nodded. “Y’might wanna stop talking to a cat like you think it’s gonna talk back though,” it added in an undertone, lazy grin still in place. “People’ll think you’re nuts.”
“Oh, right,” she giggled. “Um— hey kitty-kitty! Wanna come to the park with me, you little fluffy bundle of cuteness? Yes you do!”
The cat looked suddenly displeased at the baby talk, but it offered no resistance when she picked it up and placed it in the now practically empty basket, before resuming her trek.
“You’re sitting on your card by the way, don’t crush it!”
The cat looked up at her curiously, then began shifting a bit, presumably with the intention of digging the card out from underneath it. Yin giggled again.
“Me talking to a cat will make people think I’m nuts, but a cat reading won’t be weird?” As the cat froze, she said, “Just wait to read it until we get to the park, we’re almost there!”
There was a bit more of a pause, then the cat huffed and settled back into the basked, sulking slightly.
Yin didn’t mind. This was going to be her first Love’em Day with an actual, real date. She was excited, and nothing could ruin it for her.
*****
The “Brett Incident” had been the catalyst, as uncomfortable as it was to think back to that. She told herself everything was fine afterward. So she’d been lied to and tricked and gotten her heart broken; it wasn’t like she was the first girl that had ever happened to. And it had resulted in her brother admitting he was wrong and being genuinely protective, neither of which were things he did often. That balanced out, right? Yeah, it kind of stung, but something good had come out of it, so there was no need to regret it or stay upset about it, right?
…her self-pep-talk didn’t exactly do much to cheer her up. But the thought of trying to talk about her feelings with Yang or Master Yo (both of whom she loved, she really did, but they had the respective sensitivity of malfunctioning chainsaws) made her feel stressed and overall kind of icky. So she slapped a grin on her face and bore through it, mentally chanting that it would stop bothering her eventually.
Weirdly, the part that felt like it was tearing a hole in her heart hadn’t been that she’d been tricked by one of their enemies. It hadn’t been that the mega-cute guy who’d been interested in her wasn’t actually a mega-cute guy or actually interested. It hadn’t been that she’d given up her first kiss when it didn’t count, or any of the things she felt should be what was bothering her.
It was that… she’d been having fun with Brett. She’d liked talking with him. She’d liked going out and doing things with him. She’d liked how it’d felt to hug him and have him hug back, even if it had left her kind of woozy afterwards. And even though she knew it had all been fake, she wanted that back.
After nth night of not being able to sleep after the fallout, she’d snuck out of the Dojo in the middle of the night and gone on a walk. It wasn’t something she realized was dumb in hindsight, she’d been fully aware even as she was doing it that what she was doing was a bad idea.
Point 1: This certainly wasn’t the first time she’d been out at night, but every other time before Yang had been with her. If anything/one were to attack her now, she’d be on her own.
Point 2: She hadn’t wanted to bother with the questions Yang or Master Yo would ask if she’d woken either of them up to say she was going out (or, likely in Master Yo’s case, the blunt no and go back to bed), so she just hadn’t. As such, if something did happen to her, no one would know.
Point 3: Even if nothing happened and she got back to the Dojo just fine, if Master Yo ever found out what she’d done she would be in so much trouble.
She ignored all three of those very good points, and went out anyway. She liked walking around at night. She always had. And if there was a chance something was going to make her feel better, by Foo she was going to take it.
It was going well, all things considered. It wasn’t making her feel better per se, but there was something pleasantly mind-clearing about being in familiar spaces while everything was quiet and peaceful and empty.
She heard something rustling in an alleyway as she moved through town. She hadn’t paid it much attention at first; probably a cat or raccoon or something. She walked past and didn’t investigate. But when she looped back later (because she wasn’t actually walking anywhere in particular, she was just walking, so she doubled back and forth as she saw fit), she could still hear the same rustling. She abruptly wondered if something had gotten caught in something else and was stuck. Her heart hurt a little bit picturing some poor, defenseless creature trapped and all alone, so she headed down the alley to see if she could help.
It wasn’t a poor, defenseless creature trapped and all alone, because why would anything ever be that clean cut or simple? It was probably the last person she wanted to see, rummaging through dumpsters trying to find something to eat.
She looked at Yuck. For a minute, he looked back at her. What looked to be a stale pizza crust dangled from his mouth. Then his face scrunched, brow furrowing, and opening his mouth a bit wider he dragged the crust in with his tongue. He chewed maybe twice before swallowing thickly.
“Whaddya you want?” he spat, Woo Foo flaring around his hands.
Yin glared back at him, her hands lighting up as well. She was honestly not in the mood for a fight right then, even if it would mean having a chance to kick the butt of the jerk who’d smashed her heart on the ground. But she didn’t think “I’m not feeling it right now, leave me alone,” would cut it with Yuck.
“I’m walking,” she spat back. “I don’t ‘want’ anything, especially from you.”
“Aw, what? You still sore about before?” he sneered. “Get over it! You started it!”
Hm, her desire for a fight was rising. “I’m sorry – what?! How’d you get there?”
“Uh, you and your dumb brother killed me? When you reabsorbed your bad traits?”
Ooh, well that was an uncomfortable way to hear that phrased…
“You were attacking us!” she countered. “And we needed our bad traits back! And you didn’t actually die, you’re right here?!”
“I didn’t have a body or a heartbeat, that’s pretty dead to me!”
She was about to come back with something (she wasn’t entirely sure what, but her honor and burning desire to not feel guilt over her actions against a complete jerk demanded she try anyway), when all of a sudden Yuck faltered. He wobbled where he stood, and the Woo Foo encompassing his hands flickered.
She raised an eyebrow, hands lowering a little. “Well you look like you’re doing good.”
“Still recovering from when you when you drained me,” he grunted, Woo Foo still sputtering. “I can still— still kick your butt, though—”
“I kinda doubt that,” she said, letting her hands drop fully and her own Woo Foo extinguish. Her already shaky will to fight had just died. She wasn’t particularly interested in getting retribution for what he did, she realized. She never had been. She mostly just wanted to stop feeling so crummy about it and not have to think about it anymore.
Yuck didn’t take kindly to this. “You don’t think I could beat you like this?! You think you’re enough to win in a fight against me all by yourself?! It took both you and your brother to beat me before, and even then it was just barely—”
“I’m gonna go play mini-golf,” she said suddenly, decisively. “If you wanna come and keep blowing up that’s fine. Just don’t get me caught.”
Yuck blinked and went quiet. When he did say anything more after a few seconds, Yin turned and walked away, not caring if he followed her or not. She was halfway to the mini-golf course when she heard a voice behind her say, “You know that place isn’t open right now, right?”
“Gee no duh,” she threw over her shoulder (though she was admittedly surprised he’d actually bothered to follow her). “It’s like one in the morning.”
“So… you’re gonna break in? Willingly? Doesn’t that kinda go against your whole… everything?”
She stopped, turned to face him, hands on her hips. “I’m not going in to do anything bad like vandalize the place or steal anything. I’m just gonna go play a few holes. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She turned back around and kept walking.
This wasn’t wholly true, and she knew it. She was about to break into somewhere she wasn’t supposed to be, and while she didn’t mean any harm it certainly wasn’t right. But the thing was, she found she really didn’t care. Her emotions had been in a total knot for a while now, and for whatever reason it made the notion of doing something completely reckless and just a little bad sound like the best thing in the world.
They got to the course, and since really the only thing keeping the public out was a locked fence, it was easy enough to get in. She just levitated over it (Yuck scurried up and over in a way that reminded her of a feral, potentially rabid squirrel). The golf clubs were a bit trickier to get to, given they were all locked in a locker, but it turns out she had the ability to Transfoomate something unlocked. She selected her club, grabbed a few golf balls, then headed out to the course, still mostly ignoring Yuck.
She wasn’t surprised when Yuck appeared next to her with his own club and ball, not exactly but it still hadn’t been what she’d been expecting him to do. Maybe it should have been, considering he’d compliantly followed her all the way here, but still.
They played back and forth in silence for a while. Yin was actually starting to fall into the trap of relaxing when Yuck asked, “There a reason you picked this mini-golf course?”
Yin’s face twisted, but she didn’t look up from her tee. This was where her and “Brett” had gone on their first date. She hadn’t forgotten; she’d been trying to ignore it.
“It’s the only mini-golf course in town?” she supplied, putting a little harder than she meant to. Darn. That’d cost her. “And it was close by when I decided I was sick of walking?”
“Why were you out walking?”
“Couldn’t sleep. Why were you out in a dumpster?”
“I was hungry.”
Yin huffed, crossing her arms. “And you have to go through the dumpster for that? Aren’t you with the Night Master now? Doesn’t he feed his minions?”
“I’m not like… ‘with’ him full-time. S’not like we have a contract or anything, I mean. I can do whatever I want.”
She tilted her head now. “He gave you a whole robotic suit to get a new body with, how did he not lock you is as ‘full-time’ for that?”
He shuffled his feet agitatedly. “I’m on call, technically, but like. I’m still a free agent. I didn’t go begging for a job as soon as he found me, I’m not making that mistake twice.”
Yin blinked. She’d meant more “why didn’t the master of evil demand your eternal soul for apparently bringing you back from the dead or whatever it was he’d done,” but Yuck had apparently taken it as “why didn’t you accept the job opportunity.” Combining it with the “not making that mistake twice” comment made his reaction… interesting.
Yuck teed up, but right as he was about to swing, he paused. He slowly lowered his club, staring off into the distance. Just as she was about to ask what the holdup was, he suddenly said, “I bet I can hit that purple thing from here.”
Yin followed his gaze. The “purple thing” in question was a statuette of a hippo further down the course. She turned back to him, raising an eyebrow. “The point of the game is to try to get the ball into the little hole? Not hit stuff.”
Yuck grunted, adjusting his stance to aim towards the hippo and squinting in concentration. “Yeah, well, I’m bored of hitting the dumb ball into the dumb hole. I wanna hit the purple thing.”
He swung hard, the ball making a high-pitched tok! as the club hit it. Yin watched it sail through the air into the distance, and shortly after there was indeed a secondary tok! as it hit the hippo.
“Bullseye!” Yuck cheered, pumping his fist.
Yin rolled her eyes. It was a little unnerving how strong she could see her and Yang’s traits in Yuck (presently it was just Yang, but still). As she was rolling them, though, she caught sight of the windmill at the far end of the course.
“That was an easy shot,” she said, drawing his (now indignant) attention. “Check this out.” She lined up her shot, called out a hearty “fore!” (no one was around, there wasn’t really a point in bothering to be too quiet), and swung her club as hard as she could. The ball was launched, and seconds later there was a distant sound of it hitting the windmill. She turned back to him smugly.
To her amusement, he looked to be somewhere between surprised and grudgingly impressed. “Not bad,” he mumbled. His gaze darted over her shoulder. “Okay, double or nothing: I bet I can get my next ball over the fence and across the street from here.”
A while later and their golf game had been mostly forgotten. They’d instead taken to selecting random targets and smacking balls in their direction. Yin succeeded in smacking her ball through the center of the ‘o’ in the ‘Mini-Golf’ sign, and gave a loud cheer.
“I wish Yang could’ve seen that!” she said, grinning. As Yuck gave her a strange look, she raised an eyebrow at him. “What?”
“Do you two even actually like each other?” he asked, which caught her off guard. “I mean… one second you’re trying to tear each other’s ears off the next you’re getting all defensive over each other. I mean… what gives?”
“Uh… we’re brother and sister? It’s kinda what we do?” She snorted. “��Do we actually even—’ Of course I like my brother.” She paused. “I mean. Usually. Most of the time. I always love him, though.”
Yuck’s face was bizarrely neutral. “And he actually likes you?”
“Um, yeah? He’ll tell you he doesn’t of course, but I’ve got him on record saying he does, so there’s that.” She rolled her eyes. “Heck, you were there one of the times he admitted to it.”
“What’s that like?” he asked, sounding suddenly – almost childishly – grumpy.
She tilted her head. “What’s what like?”
“Being liked.”
She stared at him for a second. Something churned inside her.
“I did like you, y’know,” she finally said. Her voice sounded much harder than she’d meant it too, but she quickly decided she didn’t really care. “I’d had fun with you, even.” Then, before she could stop herself, and faster than she intended, “If you’d just been honest with me, I probably would’ve been okay with it. I probably would’ve helped.”
He seemed momentarily taken aback, but then his face fell back into muted, sullen anger. “No you wouldn’t of,” he said. “You didn’t like me. You liked Brett.”
“You were Brett,” Yin insisted, brow creasing, grip tightening around the club still in her hands. “You acted more – I dunno – cool? But everything else – how you joke, show off, how you walk – it’s the same. I’ve been noticing it all night. It— it really—”
Do not start crying in front of him. Do not cry. Do not let him know how much it still hurts.
“I liked you before that even,” she said, desperate to move away from the subject of Brett. “When you first showed up. I liked you plenty right up until you started attacking me and Yang.”
“Yeah, ‘cuz you had to,” he shot back. “‘No bad traits,’ you liked everything.”
“I was liking you now,” she said forcefully, challengingly. She realized her mistake a second too late.
Before she had time to ruminate or regret it too much, he snarled back, “I was liking you too!”
(Well, at least she wasn’t the only one oversharing tonight.)
His face fell. He didn’t look angry anymore; he looked horrified and lost and… and scared. His arms (hand also still gripping his club) fell limply to his sides, and for a moment he just looked at her.
“I—” he started, “I-I mean— I—”
Maybe it was just because Yin was up way past her bedtime and wasn’t thinking clearly. Maybe it was one of those sweeping, “heat of the moment” –emotional things she always read about. She wasn’t entirely sure. But before Yuck could attempt to explain what he’d purportedly meant, she leaned over and prevented him from doing so by covering his mouth with hers.
She kind of expected Yuck to push her away. He didn’t. He tensed, but that was about it.
She pulled back after a second or two. This was only her second kiss, so truthfully she wasn’t entirely sure how it was supposed to go. She suspected Yuck wasn’t supposed to still be looking so lost and scared though. Or starting to shake like he was.
Something was building in her chest, bubbling up her throat, and then suddenly she hiccupped. And her eyes started stinging. And then she was shaking too.
Everything still kind of hurt… was that normal? Shouldn’t she feel better now?
Yuck’s face crumpled, and his breathing got choppy. It was weird to realize, but she’d never actually categorized Yuck as someone her age in her head. Like, she knew he was, but he’d been classified as a villain before he’d been classified as a kid.
He looked like a kid now. He looked like a kid who was scared and hurt and confused and needed someone to give him a hug and tell him everything would be okay.
Yin hiccupped again, distantly aware that her face was now wet, and wrapped both arms around his neck. She wasn’t entirely surprised when his arms locked around her waist like he’d float off without her, or when his face went into her neck.
“Sorry,” he blurted, and both their shoulders were shaking at this point. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t’ve –l-lied to you or hurt you n’d I’m sorry.”
“M-m’sorry we killed you,” she half-wailed back.
She couldn’t have said whether the sound he made was a laugh or a sob if someone had held a gun to her head. “S’okay, I woulda too.”
They stayed like that for a while. By the time she made it back to the Dojo, she was utterly exhausted. But, she supposed, she’d also managed to fill up the hole that had been eating its way through her heart. So she supposed she’d do it all again, if given the choice.
(Particularly since she was in a relationship again. And it was a real one that counted this time, too. Yay!)
*****
There were a couple slight problems that came with dating Yuck. Their names were ‘Yang’ and ‘Master Yo.’ Yang could deny it all he wanted (and hoo baby would he try), but Yin knew that deep down he was kind of protective. Kind of violently protective. And the last time he’d seen Yuck, he’d stated in no uncertain terms that he would, quote, “break him into parts, whether he’s in a robot suit or not.” While Yin appreciated the sentiment, she was kind of firmly of the preference that Yuck stay in one piece now. And since Yang was Yang, the odds of convincing him that everything was okay now without forcibly beating it into him in were slim to none.
With Master Yo she foresaw as doing something similar, but honestly with him she was more worried about him just plain ordering her not to see Yuck anymore, either for her well-being or “the Woo Foo scrolls say to never date your enemy something-something blah blah blah.” And because he was in charge, it meant that she’d be constantly at risk of getting in trouble when she inevitably disobeyed him. If he didn’t know, he couldn’t stop her.
(There was also the fact that Yuck was formerly a villain, and she was a Woo Foo Knight trying to uphold good. As far as she knew, Yuck wasn’t particularly well known to the general public by the time they’d started dating, but regardless, word getting out about them wouldn’t do either of their reputations any good. Best to keep it under wraps for now.)
Sneaking around from date to date was by no means a permanent solution to this problem; she knew she’d have to find a way to break it too them at some point. But for the moment she couldn’t bring herself to deal with it. She was enjoying Yuck’s company too much to complicate things with other people’s opinions or interference.
The park was a pretty spot for a date in general, but the major draw for her and Yuck was the trail that led off to an almost completely ignored and forgotten bench, blocked from view of the rest of the park by a small grove of trees.
It wasn’t super secluded, all things considered; in fact they’d had people walk up on them during prior dates. But there was also enough nearby foliage where one or both of them could dive into the brush and out of sight if anyone got too close. The trick was keeping a constant ear out for people who might be approaching.
When they were far enough down the trail, Yuck transfoomated himself back to normal, at which point they linked hands. They continued walking to their spot, talking about nothing in particular, and then they got there. And then Yin’s mental thought process shut down.
There were people already at the bench.
Not that big of an issue, they seemed pretty distracted, there was still time to duck out of sight and go somewhere else.
They were pretty distracted because they were making out.
Awkward, but nothing too weird. Her and Yuck could probably turn it into a joke later.
One of the people making out was Master Yo.
Undeniably something that would haunt her dreams later, but she suspected with enough therapy she’d be able to move on with her life.
The other person—
The other person was—
[file failed to load] [yin.exe has stopped working]
Reboot, reset:
Master Yo – her mentor, her very, very old mentor – was sitting in the park, making out – theywereusingtheirtonguestheywereusingtheirtonguesabortabortABORT – with the Night. Master.
…and the award for most mind-meltingly horrible image she’d ever had the displeasure of getting seared across her brain goes to…!
Her basket slid from her now limp grip, making a soft noise as it hit the ground. The Night Master’s ear flicked, and he peeped an eye open to what the source of the sound had been. Seeing them, he made as strangled sound of alarm, both eyes flying open, and began frantically pushing Master Yo off of him.
Master Yo, startled, looked behind him to see what had caused the sudden panic. Yin and him locked gazes with each other. His eyes went immediately wide with horror, and he hastily retreated from the bat sitting next to him (who incidentally now seemed very resolute in studying the woodgrain of the bench).
Yin continued to stare, eyes wide and uncomprehending, before she took a deep, steadying breath inward.
“Yuck, catch me,” she said.
Yuck turned to her, confused. “Um… ‘catch y—‘? Holy—!”
Yin’s knees gave out from under her, and she only just narrowly avoided hitting the ground through Yuck’s frantic flailing.
“This isn’t real,” she said calmly from Yuck’s arms. “I’m having a vivid hallucination, and when I close my eyes and count backward from ten, it’ll be gone.”
“I admire your optimism,” the Night Master snarked, not looking up, “but you aren’t that lucky.”
Oh, she wished he hadn’t talked. Hearing him talk made the whole thing seem so unbearably real, and having to acknowledge it as real was making her fight-or-flight response kick in.
“What, exactly,” she asked as evenly as she could, fighting the instinct to either run off screaming or beat a bat’s face into soup, “is going on here?”
Master Yo’s eyes flicked to Yuck, then back to her. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could manage she heard herself blurt, “Since when do you like guys?”
The horror and humiliation previously branded across his face took a small recess, and then he just looked indignant. “Since when do you like—?” he grumbled and gestured agitatedly at Yuck.
(Yuck, for his part, looked increasingly awkward, and seemed to be avoiding eye-contact with the Night Master at all cost. Yin sympathized, but at least Yuck didn’t live with him.)
“Since we started talking,” Yin snapped defensively, pushing herself out of Yuck’s arms.
“Uh-huh. And how did you two start ‘talking,’ exactly?” Master Yo asked suspiciously.
“Wh—” An incredulous pause. “No. Absolutely not. You are not going to give me a lecture or ask me questions when you’re the one out here playing tonsil hockey with the stinkin’ Night Master!!”
Master Yo flinched. The Night Master sank into the bench, the red marks framing his eyes almost lost amongst his mortified flushing.
“How are you even out here?” Yin demanded, staring at him. “Aren’t you supposed to not be able to go out into the light?”
The Night Master glanced at her, then huffed. “I can manage if I take certain steps beforehand, keep to the shade,” he gestured at the trees at their backs, “and don’t stay out too long.” Looking away and sinking still further into the bench, he added miserably, “Since it’s a special occasion I decided to put in the effort.”
Special occ—? Oh. With all the trauma, Yin had actually forgotten the reason her and Yuck were out here themselves. But that meant…
“He’s your Love’em Day date?!” she balked at Master Yo.
Once more looking indignant, Master Yo gestured at Yuck again. “He’s yours?”
“Hey, you wanna go Gramps?” Yuck demanded, apparently managing to break out of his shell of awkwardness with a little help from Annoyance and Desire For Wanton Violence.
Master Yo looked less than impressed, but rather than respond, he took a deep breath.
“Look: let’s just take a minute here and acknowledge we’ve both crossed the same line—”
“You’re farther over it,” the Night Master pointed out sullenly.
Master Yo turned to him sharply. “Whose side are you on?”
The Night Master gave him an incredulous look before tapping his chin exaggeratedly in mock-thought. “Well huh, I’m essentially the avatar for all that’s evil in the world, and you’re duty-bound to disband all forms of it. So if I had to wager a guess I’d say: not yours.”
Master Yo rolled his eyes to stare up at the sky imploringly.
Yin put her head in her hands and tried to take calming breathes. “How did this happen?” she eventually managed to grind out.
Master Yo and the Night Master exchanged brief looks. “I technically asked you first,” Master Yo said.
Yuck looked ready to move to the defensive, but Yin softly touched his shoulder to stop him. “We met up by accident, argued a bit, ended up hanging out, apologized for what we did to each other, and now we’re dating,” she supplied, tone clipped.
“And the fact that you already dated once and he was using you to get a new body?” Master Yo asked, throwing a hard look at Yuck.
“He only needed a new body because me and Yang destroyed his first one, and we covered both those things when we apologized. Now you guys.”
Once again, the two masters shared a look before Master Yo looked back to them. “We— uh… ’texted’? the wrong number, started talking, accidentally liked each other. Now we’re…” he paused, glancing back to the Night Master questioningly. She didn’t know what kind of telepathic conversation they had, but when Master Yo looked back to them he finished, “now we’re together.”
“And the fact that he’s plotting to blot out the suns and kill all of us?”
“I’ve revised that plan, actually,” the Night Master interjected. “Not the ‘blotting out the suns’ bit, that still stands, but the ‘killing all of you’ part.”
Yin crossed her arms. “Revised it to what? Instead of killing all of us, you’ll just kill me and Yang?”
The Night Master made a face. “Are you kidding? I’d never hear the end of it. He’d probably break things off just to spite me.” (Master Yo was giving him the ‘you’d be lucky if that’s all I did’ –look he sometimes gave her and Yang; the Night Master ignored him, looking only mildly annoyed.) “Anyway, really all I have to do is keep you three captive until after I’ve blotted out the suns and established my armies in enough of the world where I’ll be able crush any rebellions that happen to crop up. After that there won’t be much you could do to stop me, so you’ll be free to go.”
“…that’s all, huh? You’ll just let us go? No paranoia that we’ll strike back at you at a later time or anything?”
“None at all,” the Night Master said confidently.
Yin noticed Master Yo shifting uncomfortably, so she turned her attention to him. “We, uh. Kinda made a deal.”
“You what.”
“If he manages to actually take over the world, we won’t take it back from him—”
“We WHAT.”
“And if you manage to defeat me when I finally make my move,” the Night Master continued calmly, “I won’t attempt to do so again.”
Yin paused. “You expect us to believe that?”
The Night Master shifted, sitting up slightly, and then to her complete surprise he leaned over to press into Master Yo. “He does.”
“…and… you’re okay with that? Not getting to try to take over the world anymore?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really intend to lose, so I don’t see why not.” Before Yin could respond, he turned to looked at Yuck, eyes narrowed. “And if you wouldn’t mind perhaps giving me some kind of definitive sign as to whose side you’re actually on, that would be great, thanks.”
Yin glared, moving to stand in front of Yuck instinctually. Unnecessary, maybe, considering it was Yuck, but she didn’t particularly care.
“…How come you didn’t tell me?”
Yin looked back to Master Yo, who was glancing between her and Yuck. He looked…
…huh. He looked a little sad, honestly.
“…how come you didn’t tell me or Yang?” she asked back.
Master Yo hesitated a second, then sighed. “Lots of reasons,” he admitted. “Mostly didn’t think you’d agree with it or understand.”
She glanced back at the Night Master. “…a fair concern.” She then looked down to her feet as she shuffled them. “Same here, I guess.”
Master Yo nodded. “…have you told Yang?”
Yin looked up. “Are you kidding? He’d freak.”
Master Yo looked like he might try to debate that point, then nodded again decisively. “Yeah. He’s pretty much gonna hit the roof when he finds out.”
“He’s gonna hit it harder for you. You’re dating the Night Master.”
“Uh, no, guess again. I’m just his grumpy old master. You’re his sister.”
“…aw pellets.”
Master Yo offered her a weak smile. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Yin considered this, then sighed. “Yeah, alright.”
Master Yo’s smile became a little stronger before vanishing completely as he gave Yuck a stern look.
“Don’t you dare hurt her again,” he said, and Yin was a little taken aback to hear an actual note of menace in his voice. It was… oddly sweet, in a way. He wasn’t usually this candidly protective. Granted she wasn’t entirely thrilled that he was indirectly threatening a person she really cared about and was dating, but she supposed she could appreciate the sentiment.
That said, if he was gonna threaten her date…
Snapping on her heel to face the Night Master, she fixed him with a glare that promised bloodshed. “If you do anything to hurt my master, or try to betray him or— or anything, so help me I will stuff a closet with every high-powered flashlight I can find, turn them all on max, lock you in there, and forget about you.”
(She was exhilarated to note the bat seemed decidedly apprehensive about her threat. And though she didn’t notice, Yuck now stared at her starry-eyed.)
Master Yo suddenly coughed. “So, uh… are we gonna have to fight you for this spot now, or…?”
As Yin shuddered, Yuck stepped forward and said essentially what she was thinking. “Yeah, no, we’ll go find somewhere else. This spot is tainted now.”
Master Yo pursed his lips. “What’s that supposed to—?”
“TAINTED,” Yin and Yuck both asserted in unison.
“Alright, fine, ‘tainted’!” Master Yo said, throwing up his hands. “You two gonna get outta here or what then?”
“Believe me, we’re gone,” Yin said, taking Yuck’s hand and pulling him back up the path (he swiped her basket off the ground as they went).
Pausing for a split second’s consideration, Yin threw a “Happy Love’em Day!” behind her as she moved.
“Keep your clothes on,” Yuck advised over his shoulder.
Yin shuddered again in complete revulsion, but also couldn’t hold back a laugh at the scandalized and embarrassed exclamations Master Yo and the Night Master threw at their backs.
*****
Yang heard the door open and close. He briefly checked over his shoulder to see who had come home, and his sister came skipping into view.
“Yeesh, that took a while,” he said. “How many cards did you have, anyway?”
“A lot,” she said happily. Hopping over the opposite armrest, she plopped down beside him on the couch, sighing contentedly. “I love Love’em Day…”
Yang rolled his eyes. “Speak for yourself.” Now back to focusing on his game, he nudged the now nearly-empty box of chocolates towards her with his foot. “There’s some coconut left in here if you want ‘em.”
“Don’t mind if I do!” she said cheerfully. Her attitude quickly dropped once she actually opened the box.
“Ewww, Yang! You bit into all of these!”
“Duh. How do you think I found out they were coconut?”
“There’s a guide on the lid of the box, you dope.”
“What?” Yang’s character stuttered to a stop in the game (he was just dungeon crawling right now, so his attention wasn’t life-or-death) as he turned to look at what his sister indicating. “Since when?”
“Uh, since forever.”
Yang stared at the printed guide that was indeed on the lid of the chocolate box before groaning. “Aw, pellets! Do you know how much time that woulda saved me??”
He heard Yin laugh, which threw him off guard. Honestly, he’d been expecting a snappy comeback.
(He should’ve known it was a trap.)
Yin’s arms were suddenly wrapped around his neck, and he refused to be held accountable for the noise of displeasure he made.
“Happy Love’em Day, Yang.”
He made an effort to dislodge himself. No such luck. “If I say it back, will you let go??”
“Mm-hm!”
“Ugh, fine: Happy Love’em Day, Yin.”
She released her grip, beaming at him. “Thank you!”
He grumbled something back, focus back on his game. Yin bounced out her seat and headed out of the room, off to do whatever—
Oh— wait—!
“Coop!” Yang blurted.
Yin jumped. “Where?!”
“No, I mean—! Have you seen him today?”
Yin relaxed. Aw pellets, he hadn’t meant it so sound like a legitimate question!
“No,” she said, then tilted her head to the side. “I’m honestly kinda surprised? Usually he would’ve bothered me at least once by now… I would’ve thought he’d have dialed that up to 90 considering what holiday it is.”
Yang sagged, his big opportunity blown. For a whole year, and wasn’t that just depressing?
“Maybe he’s outta town,” he offered disinterestedly.
Yin scoffed, moving towards the kitchen. “Yeah, well, ‘outta town’ can keep him.” As Yang snorted a little, she asked, “Was there any leftover spaghetti left?”
“Yeah, it was delicious.”
Yin groaned.
“Eh, Master Yo’s gotta call it a day and stop striking out with women eventually, right? Bug him to make us some dinner when he gets home.”
Yin suddenly offered a very strained, high-pitched laugh, babbling something to the effect of “yeah, striking out… all those women…”
Yang ignored her. He was coming up on his next boss. If she wanted to be weird, that was her call.
*****
“…listen to me, this is important. Where is he?!”
Flaviour huffed, spinning on his heel and turning his back to the mantle he’d been in the process of dusting. “I told you: I don’t knooow. One minute he’s here being all—” he made a sound that was both the approximation of a menacing growl and a haughty huff all at once, with a sweeping gesture to match, “—and then next thing I know he says he’s going out and – poof! – gone.”
“I thought the whole point of being in hiding was that he didn’t ‘go out’?!”
“You would think, wouldn’t you?” With another huff, Flaviour turned back to what he’d been doing. “He never tells me anything, you know, not unless it’s ‘Flaviour, go clean that,’ or, ‘Flaviour, go sew this,’ and does he ever say ‘thank you’?” He clicked his tongue. “You know, I don’t know anyone else who’d put up with what I do from him, where would he be without Flaviour? All alone, that’s where, with no one to talk to him, or listen to his silly plans, or put up with his drab taste in— eugh!!”
He’d been forcefully spun around, and was now being held off the ground by the front of his shirt.
“This is an original Louis Vitatooie!!” he squealed, clutching at the hands holding him aloft in a futile attempt to take his weight off the shirt. “You’re going to rip it!!”
“Listen. To. Me.”
Having a highly expensive and fashionable shirt on the line, Flaviour did.
“Someone who I’ve seen working with him is fraternizing with the enemy. No, not just fraternizing, he’s— h-he’s—” labored, furious breaths, “dating her!!”
Flaviour was abruptly dropped to the floor. His shirt was safe now, at least (though by this point it was hideously wrinkled).
“I need you to have him contact me immediately once he gets back. He’s got a traitor on his hands, and that traitor is – baaawww – that traitor is – baaww-buhkawww – moving in – buhkaw – on my Yin!!”
Flaviour watched, irritated, as Coop turned on his heel and stalked out of the lair. Once he heard the door slam, he took the opportunity to blow a raspberry in its direction before hefting himself back onto his feet. He observed the damage done to his shirt with poisonous disdain and a tragic sense of loss. He’d have to change, now, and he’d looked so good in this shirt…
He made a mental note to demand some form of workers compensation before mentioning the chicken’s ravings about an alleged “traitor.”
*****
[A/N:] So this fic is 100% dedicated to @yuckisalesbian and was based entirely off of this AU she came up with. I would’ve put the dedication at the beginning, but I didn’t want to spoil what was going to happen.
This was a lot of fun to write, though as usual I see flaws everywhere. I have lots more ideas with where to go with this, and if I get the chance I’d like to add more to it.
Anyway, happy (belated, by this point) Valentines Day!
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dylanobrienisbatman · 6 years ago
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Spoilers for the new season of The Magician’s under the cut, because i just wanna rant about my thoughts for a second!  Spoilers for The Magician’s Season 4 incase the cut doesn’t work for some reason, because it doesn’t on mobile sometimes! 
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(just to be safe!)
Sooo Wickodi(23) seems more or less confirmed, by the cast and also by the trailer with that perfect little shot that I’m obsessing over. 
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And according the cast, it’s being done in a very specific way and it’s got me SUPER emotional. 
According to Arjun and Stella, Wickodi(23) (mentioned in full here), their relationship is going to grow and evolve as a way of helping them both heal from their trauma? And specifically it is mentioned that it’s going to help Julia learn to express herself sexually and heal from her PTSD from Reynard, and I’m just really emotionally about that. 
Another show that did something similar was Reign, and it was my absolute favourite storyline in the entire series. (Spoilers for Reign, if you didn’t watch and are planning too?? sorry???) After Mary was r*ped in the siege on the castle, she couldn’t even sleep next to Francis because the sound of his breathing triggered her so badly she was terrified. The show did an exceptional job of showing her PTSD, and specifically showing how it could really affect a woman sexually, and they handled it exceptionally well. Slowly but surely, through the very tender love and affection from another man, Prince Conde, Mary becomes comfortable being with a man again. It starts very very slow, she doesn’t like to be touched, she doesn’t like to be near a man, but because of this beautifully done relationship between her and Conde, she is able to slowly regain the confidence and trust she once had not just with another man, one who truly loved her and would never hurt her, but more importantly with herself, her own body. That plot line has always stuck with me, and to the end of the show I wished that she and Conde would have ended up together, because that relationship was so meaningful and profoundly different from anything else I had ever seen on TV, and from the sound of it, from Stella and Arjun, that seems to be the direction they are taking Wickodi(23) and I’m just SO SO happy about it. 
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As soon as we meet Penny!23, we can see that he has this like, all consuming extremely deep love for Julia. So much so that, even knowing that she isn’t his Julia, and that in Timeline 40, he and Julia were not in love, he chooses to leave his own Timeline and come back with her, because he’d rather be with some version of her that he can now get to know and love differently than never have any version of Julia ever again (uhhhh BOY I relate. I could talk about how much I love Julia Wicker all day, every day, for the rest of my god damn life). He calls her his soulmate. He doesn’t even really know her, at all, and he threatens Josh Hoberman when there is event he slightest suggestion that The Quickening might be something dangerous, saying that if he’s anywhere near Julia, well..... I wouldn’t wanna be Josh tbh. They’re fighting Quentin!Beast in Timeline 23 Fillory, and when Julia goes to fight Q, he grabs her hand, and stops her, because he’s worried, because he wants, needs, her to be safe. 
And when he comes back to TImeline 40 with them, and Julia just says very kindly that she isn’t his Julia, reminding him that she doesn’t have the same feelings that his Julia had, he smiles, and very gently, very kindly, tells her to give it time. 
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All of Penny’s relationships, with his friends, and the romantic relationship with Kady, has been a lot more forceful, on both ends. He and Kady are both angry forces of nature, who sort of collide and grow into this perfect storm of love and anger and fear and loss, and their love is so true, but also so harsh, at times. The words “i love you” are often smacked down between them. I always wanted them together, but I also always sort of felt like, somewhere, sometime in the future, they both were going to need a softer kind of love. They loved each other so fiercely that Penny’s death drove Kady to use heroin again, and ended her up in rehab, because her love for him was so all consuming she couldn’t see the light on the other side of the grief. They were both going to need a love that didn’t feel so overwhelming, and then we see Penny!23 and the way he loves Julia, and that was the kind of love I was looking for. Something pure, and deep, just like him and Kady, but also softer. Sweeter, somehow. Like it wasn’t fought for with teeth and claws. Like it was just.... natural and easy. I ship everything on this show, like alllllll the things pretty much, and I loved Kady/Penny, but Wickodi feels easier, and it feels nice. 
And I think that for Julia, thats going to be such a HUGE deal. We haven’t seen her in any romantic relationships, except for the boyfriend she had at the very start, who was magically made to forget her and then never seen again, and we haven’t seen her sexually involved with anyone after Reynard, unless I’m forgetting something. And of course, she doesn’t need a sexual or romantic relationship (shes the “hermione granger of brakebills” and a literal god. girl DEFINITELY don’t need no man/woman/person/etc.), but it’s not bad to have one. In fact, sometimes it’s really a nice thing to give a character who has been through so much a love story that is just.... nice. (Ehem, Raven Reyes x Zeke Shaw in S5 of The 100 anyone??) And from the sound of it Wickodi(23) is going to be just that, and that just makes me really happy. 
This show has done, in my opinion (and I am not a sexual assault survivor myself so of course, my opinion here should be taken with that in mind), an exceptionally good job of handling Julia’s assault. Every character will (and SHOULD!!!!) handle sexual assault trauma in different ways, and so choosing to have Julia go through the process the way she did, where she is still able to touch her male friends and isn’t afraid of all of them, but is still clearly traumatised and horrified by what happened to her (unlike Mary who was traumatised and horrified, and also terrified of men, and refused to be alone with any of them ever), was a really interesting narrative choice. 
Choosing then to have her battle internally with the fact that the God Magic she received was originally his, and what that meant to her, how it made her feel, and the fact that, Julia Wicker, who, in season 1 blatantly told Quentin that magic was the most important thing to her, to the point where she was doing scary spells with Hedge Witches and had to go to rehab because she thought there was nothing she could do but try and get over the need she had for magic, gave her magic away. She looked at Alice Quinn, who needed it just as much as Julia had always needed it, and gave it to her, without question, because Julia would have rather been without magic than have magic from the trickster god who assaulted her. It showed just how much Reynard had traumatised her, just how much it had impacted her. She wanted nothing to do with him, even when that something was the only spark of magic that any of them could find anywhere. 
The show never shied away from her trauma, and I think the choice to now explore a relationship where a big component of them falling for each other is going to be helping each other heal, and specifically helping her heal from that trauma is such a great choice, I think. It shows an awareness that sexual assault doesn’t, and shouldn’t, cause survivors to never have a positive experience with sex and sexuality ever again, and it shows that sometimes, it might take time, and it’s going to take a person or a relationship that really makes sex and sexuality feel like something different than what happened to them. 
The choice to make a new relationship between Penny!23 and Julia about this mutual path to healing, peace, and love, to make it a journey they take together towards becoming more whole, while acknowledging and not shying away from the fact that a big part of that for Julia in the storyline they chose for her is going to be relearning how sexuality and sex feel to her now, and exploring that and her body with someone she trusts and who loves and cares for her, really shows an awareness from the writers and the storytellers on how sexual assault storylines should be handled, and I’m really excited to see them tell this story. 
Of course there is always they chance that they’re going to do something dumb and make it bad, but so far this show has always done a great job of handling different really big issues in really insightful, nuanced ways, and that sort of makes me trust that they’re going to do their due diligence and tell this story with respect. 
Also, I can’t imagine Penny!23, when he looks at Julia the way he does, being anything but soft, and kind, and loving with her. 
I just wnated to kinda rant and word vomit all my thoughts about this out onto a post and share it, because I read the few posts I’ve seen about this choice (mostly just the posts w/ the interviews), and it just made me really really happy that they’re taking my two favourite characters down this path, towards a storyline, and making it a ‘ship, that, if done well, has the potential to be one of my favourites on this show, and maybe on any show. 
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(adding this gif because WHAT a first kiss man. AUHGS:LKFHLKA)
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talesfromtheartbog · 5 years ago
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Day 11 - Farmhouse
The wind rustled through the corn as it picked up, almost drowning out the crickets as their late-summer melody decrescendoed with the sudden drop in evening temperature. It might not hit until tomorrow morning, but there was a storm on that wind, sure as sure could be.
Be that as it may, Johnny reckoned he and Matt still had plenty of time to do what they came to do on that late summer evening, just a week before school starts. Most the kids in town already had all kinds of stories they were gonna tell about what they did that summer. Johnny had heard Bill DeBois caught a pike longer than he was down at the river, and one day when Matt’s mom took him into the city to go shopping, he stopped by the arcade and saw Jed Lumpkins’s initials had jumped to the top of the Mr. Whoopseedoo scoreboard by triple digits. And both boys had heard Chuck Mudge had touched his first titty - he said it was like squeezing a water balloon full of cotton candy and it made a funny sound. Johnny and Matt though didn’t have any luck catchin’ fish, and even if they had every quarter they’d ever earned shuckin’ corn and bailin’ hay they wouldn’t have had a hope to heaven in getting such a big score in Mr. Whoopseedoo. And they sure as hell ain’t touched any titties.
There was no way either of those boys could go into the 9th grade without a good story for what they did that summer. So Johnny came up with a plan.
The boys set their bikes down by the old wood post fence and carefully climbed over, ducking their heads down low in case Mr. Larson was home. Every kid in town knew to steer clear of him. They say ever since he was a kid himself, children had disappeared under mysterious circumstances. They say the cops never could pin it on him, but Mr. Larson was always the prime suspect every time.
Mr. Larson lived on a an old farm down COunty Road 223. Mr. Larson had cows.
Matt was reluctant to come along - it weren’t he were a wuss or anything like that, but he was a pretty good kid and didn’t like gettin’ into trouble if he could help it. But it didn’t take Johnny too long to convince him otherwise, cuz they’d be the first kids in Far County to had the balls to sneak onto Old Man Larson’s farm and tip one of his cows in the middle of the night, and that would be a story to top even Chuck Mudge’s that year. And so they found themselves standing in his field that night, those early-warning storm winds wafting the sickly-sweet stink of cow pies all across the pasture, their flashlights shining on a prize heifer having herself a perfectly fine snooze underneath the old bur oak you could see for miles before the corn got too tall.
“All right Matt, go on up and give her a shove,” Johnny said, nudging his friend on the back.
“Me? Why do I have to do it,” Matt replied incredulously. “This was your dumb idea.” “And that’s exactly why you gotta do it. I’m the brains, you’re the brawn.”
“Ha, yeah right, did you already forget I was your partner in math last year?”
“Aw shut up, algebra ain’t never made sense to nobody anyhow. Ain’t mean I got no brains.”
“Whatever you say, Johnny. Let’s just both go. GOnna take both of us to tip her anyway, and the longer we stay here the more likely it is we get ourselves cau-”
Matt was interrupted mid sentence by something much harder than a shove. Stars of pain erupted in the back of his eyes as something came down cracking over his head. Johnny screamed in surprise as his friend dropped like a sack of spuds, which meant he was the only one who had time to turn around and see Mr. Larson’s as he raised the thick tree branch and -
Matt came to first when the hemp rope tying him to the old wicker chair began to tickle his wrists. They were in what he presumed to be the barn on the far side of Old Man Larson’s pasture. A single incandescent bulb above them flickered as it cast an oval of eerie pale yellow light over the boys, leaving the rest of the barn in inky shadow. He wasn’t sure how long it had been - it was still dark out, but the storm was much closer now. The wind was creeping up to a howl, and it now brought with it the smell of rain. He thought he might have even heard thunder, but it was hard to tell over the dull roar of his own heartbeat in his ears.
“Johnny… JOHNNY! WAKE UP!” Matt said as loud as he could whisper. Johnny began to rouse himself, blinking in confusion as he looked around.
“Wh… Matt, Matt where are we?” Johnny said, slurring as he spoke.
“You’re far from anyone who can hear you, so don’t bother calling for help,” a dull voice said from the dark. A second light flicked on as Mr. Larson stood glaring at them from behind a workbench draped in a filthy old picnic blanket. “Been so long since I had any company out here. How sweet of you boys to come visit.”
“P… please Mr. Larson,” Matt said as he began to sweat. “Please just let us go. WE didn’t mean you no harm, we was just out -”
“I KNOW WHAT YOU WAS OUT TO DO,” Mr. Larson said, pounding a gnarled fist on the table and making both boys jump in fright. “YOU WAS OUT TO TIP MY BESSIE. Well, my Bessie don’t LIKE bein’ tipped. Guess I’ll need some help teachin’ you boys some manners. Guess I’ll be needin’ my… COW TOOLS!”
The storm’s first lightning bolt illuminated the barn as Mr. Larson whipped the blanket off the table with a sinister cackle, revealing an odd assortment of primitive, abstract items arranged in a row on the bench.The boys jumped again - and then relaxed.
“... Cow tool?” Johnny asked, confused. “Maybe it’s on account of my concussion and all, but is we supposed to know exactly what a cow tool is?”
“Yeah… is that like… a thing?” Matt asked, glancing at the bench. “Is that a known thing? That one kinda looks like a saw but carved from wood or something, but… what’s the rest?” Matt gestured with his eyes at the strange artifacts on the table - a weird long stick and two rocks, one of which had a little nubby thing sticking off the side.
“They… they’re my cow tools,” Old Man Larson said, starting to look a little embarrassed. “Is this not scary? Are you not scared of what I am going to do to you with my cow tools?”
“Sir, if I may be completely honest with you, I am not certain what you would do with those under any other circumstance,” Johnny said, his speech becoming more coherent as he began to sit up straight.
“Yeah, I mean… what makes them cow tools? What even makes them tools? They have no discernable purpose, except for the saw, which makes the rest of them even more confusing by comparison,” Matt said. “I can apply a purpose to the saw but can’t for the life of me figure out what the stick or the two rocks would be for. And are they meant for the cow to use? Or are they to be used on a cow?”
“I… I mean they’re supposed to be mysterious, and weird,” Mr. Larson said, glancing furtively at the tools on his table. “But I guess I see what you mean. It was a mistake to make one a saw and the rest completely foreign and abstract in design.”
“Yeah, I think that was your first mistake,” Johnny said. “I think you could have also maybe said more about them than just ‘Cow Tools.’ Kinda doesn’t make any sense without any sort of context - at least if you don’t mind me saying so.”
“No, no! This has been constructive!” Mr. Larson said. “When you’ve done as many killings as I have, not every one is going to be a winner. Well, let’s just call this one a bust. Say, it’s getting pretty late and that storm is picking up. I appreciate you boys’ being honest with me. How about I give you a ride home, no hard feelings huh?”
The boys agreed. It was getting late, after all. So they all climbed into Mr. Larson’s old pickup and he took off down the dark, winding county road back toward town. In all it was a pretty pleasant night, until the road behind them lit up with another flash of light.
This time it was Mr. Larson’s turn to scream in terror. As he glanced in the rearview at the storm, just above the “OBJECTS IN MIRROR ARE CLOSER THAN THEY APPEAR” warning etched into the mirror, a single, massive eye stared back.
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