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that-small-quackson1704 · 7 hours ago

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The Rookie: Y/n Bradford Tim Bradford's Daughter Part 9

Part 1 And Part 2 And Part 3 And Part 4 And Part 5 And Part 6 And Part 7 And Part 8

Summary : Y/n gets shot one day. Tim blames himself and becomes obsessed with controlling her recovery. She, however, spirals emotionally is scared she’ll never be on patrol again.

Grey finishes roll call. I sit in the front row alone and Lucy in the back. Dad in his all Sergeant mode stands nearby. I glance over at him and he gave me a cold death glare. Recently he's been doing that all lot recently and you'd think that I've gotten used to it but idk today just seems like he's abt to shoot me with his eyes.

Grey - One more thing, homeless are camping near Wilcox and Sunset it's getting violent. LAPD is backing up outreach workers. Bradford, Chen, take point.

Tim - Copy that

Y/n - Do you think he’s mad at me or just breathing that way today?

I whispered to Lucy, Lucy chuckles Dad just glares.

Tim - Let's go boot

We arrived where the tents where and me and Lucy were just walking the tents Dad was-I actually don't know where he went but anyway.

Y/n - soooooo

Lucy - sooo

Y/n - anythinggg u want to tell me

Lucy - um no

She says with a puzzled face

Y/n - so it's nothing abt the fact that u blush when dad smiles at u

She starts blinking a lot more than normal

Lucy - well-I-

I give her a playful look

Lucy - shut up

Someone who I know is my dad yells "Gun"

I try to cover my face but the bullets were already fired. Lucy ducked but I was still covering people to head the other way and that's when i felt it.

The bullet shot through my shoulder and then i felt another on my neck.

And then I blacked out

I woke up and I was in the hospital and I woke up to see dad pacing around my bed. Lucy sits with blood on her vest, shaken. Harper arrives. I close my eyes.

Harper - Is she conscious?

I didn't say anything because I wanted to hear what they were saying

Lucy. - Barely. She lost a lot of blood. They’re saying she’ll live but she might never wear a vest comfortably again.

Tim - What the hell does that mean?!

I knew that tone, the tone where he's worried but at the same time he's VERY angry

Harper. - Tim-

Tim. - She’s a rookie. I was her TO. I should’ve been there. That’s on me.

Harper - She wasn't to blame here and you aren't to

He sighs

Lucy - Did we find the shooter yet?

Harper - Lopez is taking over and then she's coming over

A few hrs later I wake up after resting a bit and open my eyes and I see dad by my side pretending to read smth off his phone.

Y/n - Did I miss roll call?

Tim - You missed a vest check. That’s worse.

Y/n - I dare you to write a blue page

He gives me a weak smile

Y/n - You’re doing the cold-sergeant thing again.

Tim - It’s that or cry, and I’m not really built for that.

Dad obsessively checks my reports, emails doctors, argues with Grey to pull me from active duty permanently. I'm at home, recovering and unraveling. Fast.

Lucy and Dad come home after a long shift and Lucy brings dinner.

Lucy - hey i got dinner

Y/n - oh yea thx

I haven't showered. My walls are covered in whiteboards and cork board with red strings attached every where to my the case of my shooting and journals tracking my healing.

Lucy - Y/n… this looks like a serial killer’s vision board.

Y/n - If i can't go to the station to figure this out I'm at least trying to solve my case

Lucy - what abt that

She pointed at my journal

Y/n - It’s my plan. Recovery plan. If I can walk five blocks by Thursday, I can pass the treadmill eval in six weeks.

Lucy - you rlly are a Bradford

Tim - What's the supposed to mean

Lucy - nothing....

Me and Lucy share a look and laugh

Y/n - so have you guys found anything abt the shooting

I say walking up to the bag with some food

Lucy and Dad are still sharing a look

Tim - well we have 3 main suspects and tmr we're gonna breach their houses

Y/n - I'm missing out on the funnnn

Tim - you are gonna be staying at home for a month

Y/n - the doctor says i can come back in 2 weeks

Tim - eat your dinner

Y/n - OOHHH thai

Lucy and Tim chuckle

Y/n - have u guys eaten

Tim - uhh yesss we just got smth for you too

I realised smth

Y/n. - so you guysss went to have dinner...together.....alone............

Lucy - well-

Y/n - YOU GUYS WERE ON A DATE

Tim. - phftt it wasn't a date it was just a little dinner together

I give him a look

Lucy - you.eat.now or else i'm taking this away from you

Y/n - i'm good i like my thai a lott

Lucy - mhmmmm

The next day dad went to the station and me being curious went a few hrs after. I was walking around with crutches so I was definitely noticed in the station. I went to Grey's office since I saw dad through the glass and then they closed the blinds when Harper walked in but they didn't see me. So I leaned close to the doors and put my ear on the door.

Harper. - You’re sabotaging her requal paperwork.

Tim - She’s not ready

I had a feeling they were talking abt me

Harper - You’re not ready. That’s different.

Tim. - She almost died, Nyla.

Yep definitely abt me

Harper - So you punish her for living?

Tim - I just can't what if I lose her

Grey's - well she's definitely not losing that hearing...y/n you can come in

Oh shit

I came in and shut the door

Y/n - hiii....

Tim - hey i didn't know u were here why'd you come

Y/n. - I just came here to stop by

Grey - and check on our suspect....dw we caught him they were supposed to shoot at the homeless and then we stepped but they're already processing him you'll be fine

Y/n. - thx you

Dad gives me a nervous smile

Y/n - btw dad just give me two weeks and I'll be back

Tim - y/n sweetie i don't want you to hurt yourself again

Y/n - i'm sry all of u have been shot once right?

I said to Grey, dad. and nyla. They all became silent so I took that as a yes.

Y/n - dad it's part of being a cop and if I don't get shot once I'll be like Smitty

They all chuckle at that

Y/n - I'm gonna prove to you that I can do this

Tim - I know u can it's just-

Y/n - nope idc what u have to say just wait and watch

I'm back in uniform and I'm currently running a course that a few officers set up for me and now I'm breathes. But I shoots climb and pass. Lucy cheers. Nolan claps. Lopez smirks.

Dad waits outside.

Y/n - Passed.

I say beaming

Tim - I never doubted you.

Y/n - You totally did.

Tim - oh don'r ruin the moment

And then he hugs me

#y/n #father and daughter #father #tim bradford #timbradfordxteenreader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x reader #the rookie #chenford

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the-acid-pear · 1 year ago

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A while back now i had made a post talking about how recurrent the theme of decapitation is in DSaF and something that really bugged me about that was how similar Dave and the phoneys in general seem to be. Like i had my ass standing in front of this cork board covered in pics and red string trying to crack the code of what it was about them and i finally realized that in a way or another this all draws back to Henry.

Across all of his victims there's theme about dehumanization, loss of identity, being turned into just an object. And this made me realize how true this is especially for Dee. (Prob for Jack too but I need to talk of the girl).

She was literally stripped of all that made her her, and before she could EVEN be much of a person to begin with. She was left stuck in this Literal limbo but also a metaphorical one in which she was robbed of a chance to grow up and become a person but also forced to keep going anyway, all while inside a body that is not her own and that even got corrupted by her own grief (see: the comment about the mask having tears in the marionn ending). The fact that we know so little about her does truly add to this because how many chances would you even get to be someone and find likes and hobbies when put in this situation?

And i think these things are what reinforce the tool argument, because in more than a way she is reduced to what she can do, but in a way similar to Jack where it is only half a choice they can take, having been shoved into this very important role that they had no saying in where if they dont, who else will? And so it becomes most of what they are. The tabano is back. I wrote this post from scratch and mentioned it and now it came back it really wants to be in his post.

She is the puppet, after all. It delivers gifts, and so she does. Because when it doesn't, like she had to stop doing because the kids found this body creepy, all she can do is retreat to her box and sleep, just waiting for a chance to be useful, because she was forced to be a something and not a someone.

THIS TO THE POINT where after she was freed, after all the souls were, she ended up coming back. She left... heaven or whatever because there were still souls out there to help, and she took it as her responsability to leave the afterlife and go there, and to me that goes from selfless to worrying. Almost like a cycle not even then she'd break because she accepted this as her reality when by no means it should be.

Anyway that's my analysis of Dee Kennedy she's so fucking tragic and I deeply mourn the childhood and life she was robbed of 👍👍👍

#luly talks #dsaf #dee kennedy #dsaf dee #a tabano is a gadfly according to google btw #anyway shout out to all those fanartists who give Dee her scarf back to me that's like. so. meaningful #the last physical tie to who she used to be her little red scarf that she wore to her birthday that she probably loved #that got turned into a trophy as her body got. i dont know. i still wish whatever happened there was clear #but its like this miniscule thing that still keeps her tied to who she was #yes i'm about to cry she makes me so sad it's unreal #also yes i had a normal childhood and grew up okay why are you asking?

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eldritchhorrorgender · 2 years ago

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okay ive reached the point where i need to get my season 2 theories out. i am going full red string cork board please feel free to lobotomize me at any time

i'm breaking these down by the batches of episodes as they will be released, as last season they said episodes were broken up very intentionally to convey certain story beats, and i think that's what they're doing this season as well

First three episodes:

we catch up with what each separate crew has been up to since season one left off i.e. a recap of how stede and the folks abandoned on the island managed to make their way back to society, how the now unhinged crew under ed has been running wild, how i suspect a lot of them are enjoying serving under a successful pirate captain but are confused and unsettled by how and why blackbeard has become so aggressive and unstable

i think the above will be the first episode for the most part. i think this will establish their goals/conflict - i predict some of stede's crew will be supportive of trying to go after ed and some won't. particularly i expect pete will get a storyline of him turning on the blackbeard persona he once idolized now that ed potentially did god-knows-what to lucius, and the only way he'll agree to go after blackbeard is if stede agrees to try and find lucius as his first priority and the rest of the crew backs him up

episode two follows stede's crew as they search for lucius and make new allies (lesbian pirates fuck yeah), meanwhile ed becomes more and more unstable and the crew starts to turn. ESPECIALLY izzy, but we'll come back to that. end of episode two they finally find lucius and they're ready to pursue the revenge

episode three ends with stede's crew finally catching up with the revenge, in no small part helped by frenchie, jim, and maybe even izzy quietly trying to sabotage ed so that stede can catch up and hopefully make things right again. izzy at this point is starting to realize that ed has gone off the deep end and not in a good way. he is seeing that underneath the violence and rage that ed is unhappy and he maybe even feels responsible - things have gone too far for even him and it's not what he wanted either. he maybe even confronts ed in a final attempt to set him right and after being unable to get through to ed, knows that stede is the only one who can fix this, much to his disappointment that he can't be that for ed

the reunion goes BAD, a standoff of sorts happens but ed refuses to forgive or listen to stede despite being heartbroken. however at this point his crew has turned on him so much that there's a blowout that separates them again, and stede maybe manages to take back the revenge or at least they manage to get jim and/or frenchie out of there. and MOST importantly i think this is where izzy defects, approaching stede with the deal that he will help him bring ed back, training him to fight and track down ed together

Episodes 4 and 5:

Episode 4 covers izzy and stede having a tenuous relationship, so starkly at odds yet understanding that they need each other to help ed. stede gets better at fighting/strategy, and despite some initial conflict they come to a place of peace and maybe even friendship?? this is also likely helped by lucius once again being the resident therapist onboard and talking izzy through his shit. izzy begins the tentative journey of realizing he was toxic, wanting to make up for that, and also finally acknowledging that his feelings for ed were more than what he originally thought they were.

also side note i think this may be the episode where one of the B plots are lucius and black pete getting married. sort of a "lucius almost died and there's nothing like being separated and potentially losing the love of your life to make you want to commit to each other for the rest of your life" and so they decide to throw the party we saw in the trailer. and also maybe this starts getting stede's mind going in the direction of marital thoughts

meanwhile the remains of ed's crew have had fucking enough, especially after the blowout that just happened, and throw him overboard. and with ed also being thrown into an emotional spiral after seeing stede again and not knowing how to deal with it, he kind of just lets it happen as he feels like giving up

This brings us to episode 5 which i think will be the "ed stranded on an island and slowly losing his mind" episode, which i think will be the main plot after a stede/izzy-centric episode prior. however, the B plot i do think is izzy and stede getting wind of ed being deposed, and going off just the two of them to find him, and again having some more honest conversations between the two of them about their histories and relationships to ed. (izzy maybe starts developing a crush on stede idk????????)

ed is going THROUGH it on the island, reckoning with his past and his shame, very similar to stede's fever dreams in season one. ed's imagining hornigold and maybe other memories that formed this discomfort with being seen as weak, vulnerable, not masculine enough, etc. and i think after going through some rough fucking soul searching and lowkey starving and dehydrating, he realizes he was just scared of stede bringing out this more vulnerable side of him, and that stede leaving was one of his worst fears coming true and that's why he lashed out. he knows he loves stede and deep down he knows stede loves him too but was just as scared as ed was, and that's why he left. episode ends with ed nearly fucking dying and stede and izzy finding and rescuing him

Episode 6:

An interesting choice to have one week with only one episode and im very intrigued. it's either meant to just be kind of a bridge episode that's a lot calmer after the previous intense episode with ed and a calm before the storm of the last two episodes, or it's maybe the most climactic episode yet.

i lean more the former, potentially a very quiet episode that is focusing less on the action and more on the emotional states of characters as ed is reintegrated into the crew, met with mixed reactions from different people. this could be the time for lucius to have his reckoning with ed about, y'know, lowkey trying to kill him after being nothing but supportive.

izzy is also very uncomfortable with his emerging new identity and having defied blackbeard once again being afraid of what ed might do to him now that they're back on the same ship. stede is likely the only one who has faith that ed will be okay and is the only person really defending him and protecting him. this is maybe the episode where stede and ed actually have a conversation about everything that's happened, how they feel about each other, and what this means going forward. things are still uncertain but they're recovering slowly

i also think a side plot that's been going on throughout the season is something related to jim's revenge quest, them maybe running into another one of the bandits who killed their family or maybe even their sibling we saw in the flashback (dear god i hope it's that one). so maybe that becomes the more action-heavy plot for this episode while every other plot is more subdued and emotional.

i think the end of this episode is a catalyst of conflict that will kick off the action for the last two episodes. this is so far out that i can't even begin to predict what that could be, but maybe something about being pursued by another country's navy again (i don't think so though, it would be a bit repetitive from last season's ending) or more likely being pursued by other pirates as word of blackbeard's wild behaviour and then subsequent disappearance after being mutinied got around. also he has a fucking price on his head

Episodes 7 and 8:

Just as the crew is starting to get on the same page again, they're thrown into a conflict of some kind. feelings have to take a backseat for a while, although they're still very much at the forefront of people's minds. more pirate conflict, more of jim's sidequest maybe, more seeking/returning of allies (returning lesbian pirates fuck yeah), very hero's journey-esque. i think this is where the clips with jackie maybe fit in, as the crew reaches out to other pirates and strike deals to get assistance with the brewing conflict? this is also what makes me think that the conflict is likely with other pirates, enemy of my enemy and all that.

episode 7 ends with the crew having put all their ducks in a row and prepare to enter the fray.

episode 8 is the climactic conflict, both in the battle-sense and also the emotional sense. stede and ed (and also maybe izzy?) can't hold back their feelings anymore, even in the midst of the current insanity, and maybe even BECAUSE of the insanity because they're worried what might happen to them going into danger. some sort of emotional confessions or proposals (?!!?!?!) occurs, everything coming to blows at once very dramatic and all that. this is perhaps the dramatic cliff scene that the vogue article mentioned??

and heartbreakingly, because there's still supposed to be one more season, i think it will end on another cliffhanger. my theory is that the revenge crew wins the day, but either stede or ed are captured in the process. the beaten pirates or officers or whatever know one of them is valuable to the other and takes them in hopes of maybe manipulating the other towards some goal or even just ransoming them off as they are both wanted fugitives. and by now stede and ed have had their emotional confession and know how the other feels, so we know that the final season will kick off with one of them forging an intense rescue mission to take them back and rain hell on whoever took the other.

BONUS PREDICTION: season three ends with ed and stede faking both their deaths in order to 'retire' peacefully, no longer wanting to live a life that puts either of them in danger of losing the other. maybe im reaching across the atlantic for this take, but i think the High on a Rocky Ledge song from episode one foreshadows all of this, implying they fake falling to their death together so that they can live out the rest of their lives in peace.

Full disclosure i wrote this all this morning before i even knew the trailer was releasing tomorrow so all of this will likely be completely irrelevant in like 12 hours. i have also intentionally avoided looking at any of the leaks (i liked some posts though to look at after i see its release) so if any of this is already contradicted ssshhhh you saw nothing

we still have three weeks to go gang and i'm literally on the verge of writing the whole fucking thing myself i am unwell please help me

#uh oh boys he's started writing paragraphs-long prediction posts time to put her down #ofmd #ofmd s2 #long post

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akariamai · 2 years ago

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Forgiveness

Part 1, Part 3

Pairing: Ex!Matt Murdock x Writer!reader

Word Count: 1627

As the poor college student you once were, whose heart was crushed in one of the worst ways possible, you’d had no clue what was awaiting ahead to surprise you. The dream which seemed unreachable at the time. There was a bright future shining over you. The book you wrote a few years after you graduated from Columbia University slowly gained attraction. Suddenly your life has become a whirlwind of good news. You were rising to become a well-known author. Your books began appearing on the shelves of your favorite book stores. Your childhood dream was gradually becoming a reality. You were ecstatic, truly.

You were currently planning a new mystery thriller series in your condo. A giant cork board covering your wall as each piece of the mystery hangs. The cork board contained the entire timeline of your mystery. Red string showcases how they all connect. At first glance, many would’ve chalked it up as a mess. To you, it was your ongoing masterpiece. Notebooks and lone sticky notes covered your work space. A cup of steaming hot coffee was held close to your lips as you looked at the chaos you’ve established. It was your chaos and you treasured it.

Your show of appreciation was disrupted when your phone rang. You very rarely kept the sound on. Writing was hard enough without distractions and while your multitasking had gotten better, it was not that advanced where you could listen to the television while working on the backbones of your series and having your phone on standby. Your friends understood and rarely messaged you with the occasional meme or invitation to go out which you greatly appreciated. They were the best and you loved them dearly.

You walked toward your charging phone, checking the name before answering, “Hello beautiful.” You already knew the reason for this call. It was a reminder to get ready to go out. “I just want to let you know I did not work today.” Lie. “But I did admire my work with a cup of coffee.”

“Why don’t I believe you?” Their voice echoed a scanty teasing tone. It supported the mental image, that you created in your mind, of them tilting their head before placing their pointing finger on the lower side of their check. Unintentionally, you were called out on your bullshit. “Maybe because you're a workaholic and refuse to rest your mind and soul.”

You rubbed your forehead gingerly before rushing to grab suitable clothing, “There’s nothing wrong with getting ahead of work. My deadline might seem long but you never know when that pesky writer’s block comes to bite me in the ass.”

They laughed as you searched through your closest. “One night won’t make a difference.”

“How would you know? I could have a revelation at the bar with no paper or pen and forget about when I get home. A true tragedy for my fans.” You were being dramatic and for good reason. It was simply fun to annoy friends. They loved you no matter how annoying you can be and the good ones stick till the end. “Taking advantage of this abnormal desire to write seems to be a hell of a way to spend my night.”

“Which you have last night and the night before that and the night before that. I don’t want you to burn out and feel uninspired. I know how you get when you're pressed for time.” It was not pretty. You basically have a complete and utter meltdown. Scurrying to finish to reach the deadline while also not disappointing your fans or doing such a disservice to your characters.

As you could not win in this playful argument, you relented. “See you there.”

~~~

The glass bottle clanked when they were slightly tapped against one another and you and your friend cheered for good fortune. The place your friend had chosen was, to the untrained mind, a dump but places like these were the best. The tap water however cannot be trusted. While it looked ghastly, it kept so many memories within its walls. A secret only the building will know when everyone ceases to exist and more memories continue to be harbored. Tonight you will be one of those secrets. Another body the bar sheltered and one that will soon leave when the night is replaced by day.

You didn’t notice them. Two old faces sitting in the same bar astonished you were so close yet in an entirely different universe. One watching with fond eyes, the other unable to do the same. One was ecstatic to see you once again, grown into the person you were meant to be, and the other, filled with guilt for how things ended. There was another with them, an unfamiliar face, and witnessing the jolting glances they sent to you.

“[Reader].” One whispered so lowly the others didn’t hear. The sound of your heart beat once again gracing his ears. He missed you. Once the tinted frames of Elektra were smashed away, he realized the devastating aftermath left in her wake. The relationship that was once wondrous and blissful was gone. Ruined and tarnished by his inability to not decimate his own happiness.

There was always one thing he wanted to say, after he freed himself from his own blindness, if he was ever granted the chance, was to apologize. His mishandling of the situation caused you so much unnecessary harm and there was only him to blame. He fell for Elektra charm and her assertions of being cut from the same cloth. Still there was no excuse for what he did.

“I’ll be right back.” He assured Foggy, who knew of his intentions, and Karen, who remained confused. Foggy remembered those late night talks after the whole Elektra situation detonated. Matt mourned the loss of a healthy relationship and shame remained to haunt him. If Foggy was being honest, he missed you. He loved to hang out with you and Matt despite the lovey-dovey gestures you’d paraded around him. It felt like a glimpse of what real love was.

Matt reached your table before asking, “[Reader]?” You had never known of his powers and yet always treated him like an able-bodied person. With the occasional but completely harmless quips surrounding his blindness. After all these years, he wondered of all the moments you would’ve shared together had he not doomed your love. He wondered if you laid awake flustered at the thought of his lips.

“Matt?” He looked different yet the same. The years have gone easy on him since the last time you’d spoken. He matured like fine wine. “What are you doing here?” Not in the bar. You wanted to add. Here by me.

He straightened his posture, “I wanted to speak with you.” And apologize. “Alone if that’s alright with you.” The conversation he hoped to have should not be for anyone other than yourself. At least for this specific moment. He knew friends (Foggy) would want an update.

Your friend gave you a look before you assured them that you would be fine. They walked away, too far to listen but not so much they’d lose sight of you. Matt took over the now empty seat and the two of you sat in silence. The agonizing tension striking the two of you like a club or, in this case, a cane.

“What did you want to talk about?” The relationship you once had was short-lived but memorable. Your first taste of what love should’ve been until it was spiked with poison. You had plenty of time to reflect upon your brief passion towards one another but you were still left with questions. Maybe they can finally be answered.

“I was - I’m sorry.” His head faced the stained table as if he was ashamed of himself and granted he should be. “I know we didn’t end off on the right foot and it was my fault. I should’ve handled it better but my naive younger self was thoughtless of the pain and anguish I’d caused you. There are no words to describe how embarrassed and ashamed I am for not apologizing sooner.”

There it was. The apology you’ve been missing for years and now you had it. Apologies are never enough, however, it is merely words seeking for an ounce of forgiveness. Forgiveness is a fickle matter to you. It is, in your mind, unnecessary when burying the hatchet of the past. Forgiveness is not for you but the person who hurt you. Moving on does not require forgiveness. Moving on, in its true form, is reflecting on what was done and finding a semblance of peace.

You found yourself only able to mutter a simple thank you and the tension heightened. There was nothing more to say. Nothing that truly mattered in this moment. “I’d like to make it up to you.” He offered, “A redo of sorts. We can go to that diner we've loved.”

The thought almost made you laugh. A redo. At the place where it all began and ended. Moving on was one thing but the memories will always linger. The pain never truly vanishes. It merely blooms in a different form.

Shaking your head, “No.” The word spilled out of your lips with such sternness. Matt tensed when they reached his ears. “I don’t think so. While I do appreciate your apology, I’d rather not exhume what once was. Our love, no matter how short, is and will forever always remain six feet under.” You couldn’t fathom his train of thought. How ridiculously seeming it was. “I’d rather leave the past where it belongs and I suggest you do the same. Do, however, say hi to Foggy. I have missed him.”

Masterlist

#matt murdock #matt murdock one shot #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x reader #foggy nelson #karen page #netflix daredevil #elektra #elektra natchios #daredevil x you #daredevil angst #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you

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burn-towns-get-money · 2 years ago

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@mintso / @milliin

Happy @d20exchange! Here is the third gift. And this time it's Riz! I had so so much fun writing for this one. Riz is just too curious.

Also I'm thinking about turning these into a series and writing more later on!

Gift One | Gift Two | Riz Gukgak

Interview with: Riz Gukgak

Written by Apricotflyer

Most of our interviews happen at the school, but this one is a special case. A detective case if you will. We head out on the weekend to a small office in Elmville. I knock on the glass pane of the door and I catch the name on the placard, Riz Gukgak. It's strange to be here, but Riz invited us and I'll never give up a chance for an interview.

He calls out for us to enter and I turn the door handle to be greeted with a room that is filled with filing cabinets and paper, half of it strewn about on the floor. Behind him, there are multiple cork boards covered in red string and photographs, and copious empty mugs sit on his desk.

I approach the goblin perching on his chair. Another member of The Bad Kids. He's their inquisitive rogue, and surprisingly eager to talk to us despite the class's reputation for being sneaky.

Hello, it's nice to meet you Detective Riz Gukgak.

Riz: Actually, I'm officially a Private Investigator, not a Detective.

… Right, okay. I'll just call you Riz then.

Riz: That suits me. Now, tell me, what is the case you are bringing to me today?

What?

Riz: The exciting new case I shouldn't miss out on?

I stare behind me at my editor who was in charge of booking this meeting and they just shrug at me.

I'm pretty sure this was meant to be an interview. It's going on the school's blog.

Riz: Oh! You mean about my business? That would be great if you could promote it! It's been a bit slow lately so I've been trying to find my own mysteries to solve right now.

Uh, no. It's about you, like, personal questions. I'm going for a journalism angle more than… business promotion.

Riz: Oh, like an investigative journalist? I could totally use your help then! I've been investigating some people for Fig that she thinks are suspicious. I haven't found anything but she demanded a second opinion as she's convinced they're up to no good. It would be a great help!

No, not that kind of journalist. I mostly write fluff pieces. Like what we're supposed to be doing right now, but you haven't even let me ask any questions.

Riz: That's not technically true. You said 'what' with a questioning tone just before. That was a question. And I did answer it. But honestly, I'm more curious about what you could tell me about what's going on. You surely have the inside scoop I can use for my cases!

What are you talking about?! Are you sleep-deprived or something, I have no idea what you're saying.

Riz: Hmm, well I probably haven't slept for a few days, but my thoughts are perfectly clear.

Ok, well we better get back on-

Riz: Have you seriously never thought about investigating and writing stories about hard-hitting cases?

I'm meant to be asking the questions here.

Riz: But I'm curious, would you mind answering some of my questions instead? How is it being an interviewer? Do you find that people open up to you more?

That's a lot of questions. Why do you even want to know?

Riz pauses for a moment, and his momentary silence terrifies me. He jumps off his seat and starts digging through one of the filing cabinets. Once he finds what he's looking for he scurries back to me and pushes a thin file across the desk towards me.

What's this?

Riz: Open it.

What the hell is this? Why do you have a file on me?

Riz: Well, when I said Fig had me investigating people… that includes you. Apparently what you said when you interviewed her made her very suspicious.

So you asking me questions is a way to clear my name?

Riz: Exactly.

Well, if it's the only way, I guess I have to.

Riz: Yes!

Riz then unfurls a list of questions so long it makes my stomach drop.

[Author's note: That's the point where the interview stopped being about Riz and was about me instead. I'm not exaggerating when I say it took hours. Thankfully that part will never see the light of day.]

[Author's note: Actually I've been told to hype up next week when they publish Riz's version of our interview. Wait. What, are you serious? He's going to be writing about me??? Who let-]

Hey, Head of Publishing here, just letting you all know that next week we have a guest writer, Riz Gukgak. He got the chance to find out more about our lovely writer who usually handles the interview series. And it WILL be published.

#d20exchange2022 #fantasy high #riz gukgak #riz #fhsy #fhfy #my art #apri art #ahhh its done!#please enjoy!

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parkswritessometimes · 3 years ago

Text

Escapees Of I.R.I.S.

Chase wakes up with a small groan escaping his lips. He holds his head in the palm of his hands, trying to calm the pounding of his head . His eyes dart around the room that was not his own, nor the familiar room of I.R.I.S. Comics line the wall with decorative action figures sprinkled between them. A map placed on a cork board with little red tacks and pictures of random people and places with red strings connecting them all.

Baggy clothes that aren’t his own drape his frame, black sweatpants, and a soft dark blue hoodie. They were much more comfortable than the disgusting, smelly clothes he remembered being in just a few moments ago. The distinct smell of fresh crisp snickerdoodle cookies wafted off of them making Chase’s lips curl upwards.

But the happiness fades away as he remembers that he’s somewhere new. He forces his shaky legs up, while his mind fights itself to figure out what emotion he should be feeling. Anger, gratefulness, and fear all fight in his head. His hands hesitate for a brief second as the pad of his fingertips touches the doorknob, fear taking over his body. What if something awful is out there? What if the ALTR is out there? Should he even take that chance?

But then he hears laughter. Music. Something warm and kind waited on the other side of the door. He takes in a deep breath, calming the paranoid voice in his head before pushing the door outwards.

Two figures sit on a couch, one with green hair slicked back into a bun, the other with shaggy brown hair like his own. They speak in hushed tones, to the point where Chase could only make out a few words. His heart longs to leave them alone, to just go back into the room and keep his distance. But his head knows that these people have the answers, that he can’t hide in that room forever, he’d have to talk to them eventually.

He cleares his throat, getting the two men's attention. They both whip around, identical faces looking back at them. Chase takes a step back in shock as he analyzes the people in front of him. These men look exactly like him. Bright blue eyes filled with light and hope that he used to have years ago. A dark brown beard that covers both their faces. One has a slightly crooked nose, most likely from an injury, but that was the only main difference that Chase could see.

They looked like him. They looked like the demon.

“Hey, you’re up.” The brown haired one says as he rises from the couch. Chase locks eyes with the strangers making sure they stay blue. “How ya feeling?”

Chase backs up until his back hits the wall. His hands scramble trying to find a doorknob, a lock, something, anything to get away from the new threat. His chest rose and fell at an alarming rate, and he could feel his heart beating in his throat. The situation all too familiar to him. He waits in anticipation for the pain and possession that would shortly come. He squeezes his eyes tight as the demon approaches.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you. You’re safe. I know that you’ve heard that a lot over the past few days, but it’s true. We’re not with him, and we’re not with Iris, it’s okay. I’m Jackie and that’s Marvin. It’s okay, it won’t hurt you. It’s not here.” Jackie soothes. His hand slowly reaches out to Chase, trying to seem as not threatening as possible. “It isn’t here. It can’t hurt you. I’m not gonna hurt you.” “How-How do you know about him? How do you know he isn’t here?!” Chase shouts. His arms wraping around his trembling body. Everything was too much, he just wants to go back home. To his family, to his wife, to his life. How could everything have gone so wrong?!

“Hey, Chase. It’s okay. It’s okay. We-We have this place warded to hell and back. It can’t get to you. I know you’re scared so can you do me a small favor? Just follow my breathing, here.” Chase feels his hand pressed onto the stranger's chest slowly rising up and down. The warmth coming from the man’s chest convinced him to open his eyes once again. He takes in a deep breath steadying his shaking body. His anxious thoughts steadily dissipate as he followed Jackie’s breathing. In and out. In and out. “Hey, good job. Do you want to sit down? I know this is a lot to process and you're probably really freaked out. We have some leftover mac and cheese if you want some. You must be starving! I know that Iris doesn't exactly have the best food.” Chase’s feet guide him towards the couch, each step made with caution and precision, sitting next to Marvin. He glances at the man who seemed to be completely engrossed in his book. Chase’s eyes land back on Jackie, who balances over a plate full of food in one hand and a mug in the other. He places both on the coffee table and sits down on the floor, making himself comfortable. “Thanks.” Chase mumbles as he reaches for the plate. He can’t remember the last time he had eaten. He knew that I.R.I.S. had given him food, but the memories of his time there were a blur. He pushes the thoughts aside as he continues to eat.

“I know that this is a lot, and you’re probably feeling pretty scared and freaked out, but I promise, you’re safe. And I know you’ve heard that a lot but, this time, it’s true.”

“How-How do you know that? That they said that to me?” Chase watches as Jackie bites his lip and fiddles with his fingers. The man was clearly hiding something, whether that was out of malice or lack of trust, Chase doesn’t know.

“Marvin and I are very used to Iris’ tactics.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” Marvin pipes up, not taking his eyes off of his book.

“We also hacked into their cameras and watched the footage.” Jackie whisperes. “I’m sorry that you had to go through all that.”

Chase shrugges, not wanting pity from these strangers. It was shitty, but these people couldn’t grasp what he went through. That thing killing everything that moved, but sparing him. Not being in control of his body for hours at a time as Anti constantly reminded him of everything that he did. And that damn doctor asks those provocative questions, again and again.

“Not your fault.” Chase decides to say after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, well you're safe now. That’s what matters.” “So am I in a safe house or something?” Chase asks between bites of macaroni. “Uh not exactly. You’re in our apartment. We just needed a place where that thing couldn’t find you. Like I said, we have this place warded to hell and back.” “Warded? I don’t understand.” Marvin extendes his hand letting a small ball of fire sit in his palm. It’s so small but Chase feels the power radiating off of Marvin as he fiddles with the small flame. It feels familiar, like the ALTR’s presence but much…softer. The ALTR’s power felt sharp and powerful. Like a thousand knives cutting and slicing into him. Marvin’s power feels like a fireplace on a cold day, warm and inviting but still dangerous if you get too close. “Jackie and I have powers. He has strength, speed, enhanced healing and bioelectricity, I got some elemental magic and other stuff.” Marvin explaines as the ball of fire weaves between his fingers.

Chase sits in silence trying to absorb all the information being thrown his way. He presses the heels of his palms into his head, as he attempts to wrap his head around everything. Magic was real. That thing is real. He was in danger. He was safe. These people are magic and somehow know everything about him. “Chase? You okay man?” Jackie askes, placing a hand on Chase’s shoulder. “I know that we’re throwing a lot of stuff at you. Do you wanna…take a break or something? Lay down?”

“No, no. I’m fine.” Chase mumbles waving, Jackie off. “Just…It’s a lot.”

A heavy blanket appeares on his shoulders and a warm cup in his hand. He feels Marvin’s warm hands rub circles on his back. Chase swallows as a sob as they continue to sooth him. These two strangers, they showed him more compassion in the ten minutes he was here than anyone had shown him in the last 3 years. Clothed, fed, and now comforting him. He doesn’t deserve this kindness. He doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Chase, listen to me.” Marvin’s voice cuts through all of Chase’s thoughts. “You are gonna stay here with us, until we figure out this whole situation. Jackie and I are gonna keep you safe and you’re gonna tell us everything you can about that thing. Sounds good?”

Chase nods, not making eye contact with either of them. He takes a small sip from the cup, pleasantly surprised when the familiar taste of black tea hits his lips. He lets out a small sigh and placed the mug on the coffee table.

“Okay, what do you want to know?”

“Everything.” Jackie says. “Tell us everything.”

_____

Revised on 11/08/2023

[Part 2]

#chase brody #jacksepticeye #overnight watch #overnight watch 2 #Anomaly Found- Chase Brody #jackieboyman #jackieboy man #jseprojectiris #writersofjack #writers of jack #jse: Chase Brody #JSE: Jackieboy man #JSE: Jackieboyman #marvin the magnificent #JSE: Marvin the Magnificent

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some-messed-up-writing-for-you · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I'm the anon that asked for any requests you are comfortable or not with, first of all, thanks for answer my question! And second, would you be so kind to write about a male villain confessing his feelings to a female hero with some sexual tension in the middle and then if you want that the thing ends up in something nsfw, please?^^

Request #24

Warning: nsfw.

Man, this one came out long, but I'm hella happy with it! Also, having the characters have different genders really made the writing easier, so I'm probably gonna be doing that more often, lmao.

Enjoy, dear anon!

~~~~

"Ugh! Why are you like this?!" - Hero exclaimed, frustrated as she threw another punch in the villain's direction. He dodged it with ease and caught her wrist, swiftly bringing her closer and landing a hit on her face.

Disoriented, the hero couldn't do anything as Villain pinned her against the wall, her arms held above her head. They were both panting, gasping for air from the exhausting fight that had led them to this point. She tugged at her wrists, trying to break free, but his grip was unyielding.

"Why am I like what?" - the villain asked, making Hero's blood boil even more.

"Don't play dumb!" - she growled out, snarling angrily. "You've been doing this shit for weeks now!"

Before Villain could question her more, the hero lunged her head forward and bit him on the face, catching him off guard. His grip loosened, and his nemesis was quick to take advantage of it. She freed her arms, grasped onto him, and threw them both to the ground.

They thrashed around, rolling all over the dusty floor of the abandoned warehouse they were in until eventually, Hero found herself on top of her enemy, straddling his hips, pinning down his wrists on either side of his head.

Now, even more tired, they glared at each other. The woman decided to voice her frustrations further. "Every. Fucking. Day." - she started.

"Every fucking day, you've been doing whatever you can to waste my time and force me out into the field."

The villain grit his teeth. "I'm not doing this to waste your time."

"Oh, yeah? Then why-" - the hero was never able to finish talking as Villain jutted his hips and threw her off balance. He rolled them both over, swapping their places so that he was on top.

"BECAUSE I WANTED TO SEE YOU!" - the villain exclaimed without thinking, too frustrated to think twice before speaking.

She gaped at him, trying to understand his words. "You-? W-What?"

He faltered, regret starting to eat away at him. He should not have said that. He should not have said-

They switched places again. Hero was on top of Villain, and- ah, shit- he hadn't realized just how close she was- how- how intimate this felt...

A blush threatened to take over his face, but he fought against it, successfully keeping it at bay. Or at least, he was successful until the hero decided to hover her face right in front of his own.

Suspicious, she questioned, "What do you mean you 'wanted to see me?'"

"I- I uh..." - what the hell was happening?! Since when did he stutter?! He couldn't come up with a reasonable answer, and he refused to tell the truth. So, he just shut his mouth.

She waited a few more seconds, hoping he would answer. But silence and shifty eyes were all that she got.

"Villain, c'mon! What is up with you recently?" - Hero tried again, but the villain still refused to talk. He wasn't even looking at her anymore.

Annoyed, she held down his wrists with one hand while the other grabbed his chin, tilting his head and catching his attention. Their eyes locked, and she swore his pupils were more dilated than usual.

"You've just been acting so weird lately! And, I- I just-" - she stopped, furrowing her eyebrows as she got lost in thought. Was... Was Villain blushing? This was all so- so unlike him!

His pupils are wide, he doesn't want to look at her, and he said he was doing all of this because he 'wanted to see her?' What did any of this mean?! And what the hell is poking her in the-

A blush assaulted her face as the dots suddenly connected, her lips forming into a thin line as she looked down at their touching crotches.

She looked back at him. His face was even brighter, a look in his eyes.

Hero's brain scrambled to break the silence, but her words did not want to cooperate. "I- Do- Do you- Are you-"

"I like you!" - Villain blurted out. He could feel the sweat going down the side of his face as the hero above him became stunned.

"I- I really uh- really like you." - he said again.

Breaking out of her daze, she responded, "Uh... Yeah, I- I can tell."

...

Holy shit, this was awkward.

...

The hold on his chin had loosened at some point, and he looked away again. She broke the silence once more. "How long?"

He almost choked on his spit, looking back to her. "H-Huh?"

"How long have you uh... had feelings for me?"

Oooh, right.

"I- I don't know..." - he admitted. "It just... kind of... happened somewhere along the line...?"

She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for something. Oh, God, what will she say? This is the part where she calls him a weirdo and runs away, isn't it?

"It's... nice to know I'm not the only idiot around here then."

...

"What?"

Clearing her throat, Hero shily muttered, "I- I like you too."

Villain was pretty sure his brain had just short-circuited. Did- Did he hear that right?

"I- You- You like me back?"

She nodded in reply. He was still shocked that this was happening. What were they supposed to do now? Fight? He didn't really want to fight. He had some... other activities on the mind.

Sighing internally, Villain did his best to collect his thoughts. Someone had to move this conversation forward, and it seemed like the hero wouldn't be the one to do it.

"Do you... still want to fight?" - he asked. She looked at him a bit puzzled before her equally fried mind caught up. "I mean- I just... don't really feel like it anymore."

"Uh... Y-Yeah, alright." - she responded, releasing her grip and carefully moving off him so that their crotches wouldn't brush against one another. The villain sat up, and they both remained there on the ground, playing with the dust to keep themselves distracted.

...

It was quiet again. Villain almost groaned, angry with himself. He wanted to say something, but- How was he supposed to say this? It's not like he could just-

"Do you wanna fuck?" - Hero suddenly blurted out, and he sputtered, unable to respond like a functioning human being.

She panicked a bit. "S-Sorry! Uh- Too- Too forward?"

"Y-Yes! I- I mean no! I- I mean-" - he buried his face in his hands. Why was this so difficult?! He was an adult! Both of them were!

Wait- An adult, yes! Just- Think, Villain. How would a sensible adult proceed in this situation?

He uncovered his eyes, taking a look around. They were both on the ground, covered in sweat, dirt, and decades-old dust. They had gotten some good hits on each other, so they had some bruises and cuts.

So, if they were to... have sex - he still couldn't believe this was happening - the most responsible thing to do would probably be... going elsewhere...? But where? To one of their houses, perhaps?

Villain sighed audibly, catching the hero's attention. "Do you... want to come over to my place?"

Her eyes widened, and her face burned brighter at his question. He added frantically, "O-Or we could go to your place! Or- Or no place at all! We could just forget this ever happe-!"

He froze as fingers pressed against his lips, silencing him. He looked at her again. She smiled nervously before saying, "W-We can't forget about this. We could try, but..."

Her eyes traveled up and down his body quickly, studying him, and he couldn't help but shiver under her gaze. "...I'm pretty sure we would both fail miserably."

She pulled her hand back, and he already missed her touch.

"So..." - she started. "...Your place...?"

"S-Sure." - Villain managed to answer. He lifted himself off the ground and offered her his hand, which she took. Upon pulling her up, their bodies lightly collided, Hero's hands landing on his chest to steady herself and one of the villain's hands catching her by the waist. They silently stood there for a moment, blushing as if they had never touched another person, before swiftly separating.

With some awkward coughs and clearing of throats, they were on the move again, working together so they wouldn't get seen.

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

"This is your house?" - the hero asked, looking around. The tension between them had eased a bit since they left the warehouse. "I won't lie, I always imagined it to be... a lot less normal than this."

Villain snorted at that. "What, were you expecting red string and cork boards?"

She didn't answer, only biting the inside of her cheek and crossing her arms, making him chuckle a bit before getting back on track. He led her through the house, arriving at a bathroom. "I think it'd be best if we got cleaned up a bit since we've been rolling around in dirt and whatnot all day."

"Why, Villain. Are you being responsible?" - Hero asked playfully. He gave her an "Oh- shush." before showing her where everything was. A smile crept onto his face regardless; he had missed their casual banter.

"Now, I have another bathroom upstairs connected to my bedroom, so once you're done, you can uh... you can join me... I guess..."

"Smooth." - she replied teasingly, getting a blush from him. "I got one more question, though."

"Yes?"

She grinned, looking forward to his reaction. "What am I supposed to wear?"

Villain seemed to freeze for a moment before it registered in his brain that Hero did not, in fact, have any spare clothing to put on. His blush worsened tenfold, and she laughed.

Through her giggles, she asked, "Do you want me to just come upstairs nake-?"

"Bathrobe! Yup! There's uh- There's one right there!" - he blurted out, not letting her finish. She looked to where he was pointing, and there was indeed a bathrobe hanging there, next to some towels.

She gave another small chuckle. "Alright."

Turning back to him, she lightly bit her lip and gave him a look, tracing a finger along his jawline. "But you better wear one too~."

Hero didn't realize a person could blush this badly. For the poor villain's sake, she kept her giggles in this time, letting him respond. "Y-You got it!"

With that, Villain left. He walked out calmly, but a few seconds later, she still heard him sprint down the hall and couldn't keep her laughter to herself.

As he moved up the stairs - way too quickly for it to be normal - he silently cursed himself. Why was he acting like such an idiot?! He had sex before! This was nothing new!

No, no, it's not that this was new or something. It wasn't his fault! It was Hero's!

Hero with her stupid smile that made his knees weak, and her dumb laughter that made his heart flutter, and- and...

...

Has Villain ever felt like this before? Has he ever... fallen for someone like this?

Perhaps before he had become the villain, but... that was a long time ago. He no longer remembered anything from that part of his life. He only remembered the now. He only remembered his fights with Hero.

As he arrived at his bedroom's bathroom, he smiled. The woman really had taken over his mind, hadn't she? She was incredible, no other like her. And amazingly enough, she returned his feelings too.

The villain stripped free of his ruined clothing and hopped into the shower. Rubbing soap onto his dirtied skin, he pondered on that thought. Did she truly feel the same way? What if this was... just some elaborate trick...?

He faltered for a moment, having not considered such an option. What if the hero wanted to catch him off guard...? While he was vulnerable...?

He shook his head. No, that couldn't be the case. He knew her. He knew how her real laughter sounded. He knew how she looked when she was acting, pretending to be happy. And this... this was no act.

Hero loved him back.

Villain knew that. His mind just enjoyed tormenting him sometimes.

As he scrubbed at his scalp and hair, he returned to the present. Hero was here, in his house, and they were basically about to have sex together. His face flushed red again as another thought crossed his mind. Who...

Who would be on top...?

...

Honestly, the villain was fine with being either but... he'd be lying if he said Hero didn't look hot as hell on top of him.

Dear Lord, he was getting turned on just thinking about how she had pinned him down earlier.

...

He really needed to get out of the shower already. Getting back on track, he fully rinsed himself and turned the water off. Hurriedly, he grabbed a towel and dried himself off. Once done with that, he wrapped himself in a bathrobe identical to the one downstairs. It was soft and warm. It helped calm him.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the door's handle and opened it. Upon doing so, Villain was met with the sight of Hero casually lying on his bed, loosely wrapped in her bathrobe. He could see her cleavage and- shit, he was staring-

Looking away and clearing his throat, he closed the bathroom door.

"Took your sweet time in there, huh?" - she asked with that playful expression back on her face once more. The villain went to respond, but she smirked and continued. "Didn't start the fun without me, did you~?"

"N-No." - he said, and she chuckled at his nervousness. Why was he like this? This was his house and his bed that Hero was lying on! She was just being so confident and... and taking charge and...

She grinned wider, amused as she looked at his crotch. He also looked.

...

Shit.

Well, if that didn't make it obvious he was enjoying this...

...

He looked back up at Hero, and she wiggled her finger at him, beckoning him to come and join her. He silently obliged, crawling onto the bed and sitting in front of her. She was leaning against the headboard, soft pillows arranged so that they would support her back.

The hero scooted forward a bit. Feeling daring, Villain copied her and gasped as he suddenly found himself under her. She had grabbed him and switched their places before he could react, pressing him against the headboard and straddling him.

He stammered, trying to come up with something to say, but grew silent as Hero cradled his cheek. Her thumb rested on his lips as she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I hope you weren't planning on being the top~?"

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he answered, breathless, "No... I wouldn't have this any other way..."

She grinned at him, eyes half-lidded as she tangled her hands in his hair. He sighed, relaxing under her touch as she brought their lips together in a soft kiss. Villain's arms wrapped around her waist, bringing her closer.

A moan hummed in his throat as Hero's hands trailed down his chest and landed on his bathrobe's belt. Slowly, teasingly, she untied it, the fabric loosening around him, letting her slip it off him, exposing his body to her.

Shivers coursed through the villain as her hands glided along his bare skin. He wanted to feel her too. His hands traced her curves, sneaking towards her belt. As his fingers brushed against it, she caught his wrists, scolding him lightly. "Ah, ah. Not allowed~."

He opened his mouth to protest, but only a gasp left him as one of her hands went to his cock. The hero's fingers brushed against it, her touch feather-light, experienced. Villain grasped at the bedsheet below them, breath coming out uneven as she slowly stroked him.

Even as she drew pleasured mewls from him, she took a moment to admire his shaft. It was a decent length, not the biggest one out there, but certainly above the average. It was just right for her, and she complimented so, whispering in his ear again, "You're the perfect size~. And it looks so nice too~."

He shuddered at her words, and she moved her face in front of him once more. Their mouths locked again, her free hand grabbing the back of his head, pulling him in. She seized his bottom lip in her teeth, nibbling on it gently. Her tongue asked for entrance, and he let her in, deepening the kiss. She explored the inside of his mouth, memorizing every nook and cranny.

Villain sucked in a sharp breath as Hero's hand stopped, and her thumb began running small circles on the tip of his dick, smearing pre-cum across it. As their lips parted again, they gasped for air. Another smile graced her features as he begged. "F-Fuck! Hero, please, can I touch you? Please."

The woman hummed, considering his plea. She adored the needy look on his face, the way his fingers twitched around the clutched bed sheets, desperate for contact. The hero gave a small chuckle. "Well, since you asked so nicely~."

With the permission given, the villain's hands immediately moved to strip her free of her robe. She laughed some more at his haste before kissing him again. Low moans left them both as they touched and teased each other. His hands trailed down her spine, making her arch into him and raising more pleasured sounds from her.

Showing her approval, Hero stroked Villain a few times, her movements swift and firm, drawing another shudder from him. They separated for air again, her hands moving up to cradle his face as she suggested, "How about we get to the fun part now~?"

His hands trailed to her hips, his mouth opened to reply, but he suddenly pulled back, looking as if he just remembered something. "Oh, hold on."

The hero watched curiously as he leaned to the side of the bed towards a nightstand. The villain opened one of the drawers and pulled something out of it. She gave an amused snort once the two objects entered her vision.

"What?" - he asked as she giggled again, looking between her, the bottle of lube and condom in his hands.

"I don't get to see you being a responsible adult very often. It's cute." - she admitted, making him blush once more without fail.

He grumbled under his breath, but the smile on his face told her there was no bite behind it. She took the small bottle from him and moved back a bit. Villain paid her no mind, focused on getting the condom out of its package and slipping it on. Once he successfully finished his task, he looked up again.

His dick twitched at the sight that greeted him. Hero was sitting on the other end of the bed, her legs spread wide as she poured some lube onto her throbbing sex. She gasped lightly as the cold substance made contact and then used her hand to tease at her folds.

The villain watched as she slipped a finger inside herself, slowly moving in and out. His own hand went to his cock, stroking himself as he grew entranced by the show. He matched her pace, and she groaned quietly as she slipped a second finger in, stretching herself in preparation.

Their eyes locked, and they stayed that way for a little bit, pleasuring themselves and listening to one another's soft gasps and moans. Eventually, Hero's impatience got the best of her. She pulled her fingers out and crawled over to Villain.

Grabbing onto his shoulders, she positioned herself at his dick, and he held her by the waist, giving her some additional support. They inhaled shakily in unison as she took in the tip of his cock. She moved down slowly, letting herself adjust to his size, and he made no complaints, haphazardly leaving small pecks on her face, which got another giggle out of her.

Once he was fully sheathed inside of her, he ran his hands down her thighs, making her shiver and pull him into another kiss. Her touch trailed over his sides to his hips and then back up to cradle his head. His own hands moved up her body, one grasping her breast, squeezing and kneading while the other moved to get tangled in her hair.

Experimentally, the hero moved her hips forward, making them both moan against one another, the sound muffled by their connected lips. Leisurely, she began moving up and down, setting a calm pace, the slight pain of being stretched around him fading into pleasure. Their mouths parted again, and quickly, they got lost in their lust and each other's eyes.

She sped up, their skin beginning to slap together, sounding across the room but still drowning in their moans and mewls. As their pleasure began to build up inside their guts, their hands traveled without a set destination, wanting to feel as much as they could.

A gasp left Hero's lips as Villain's shaft hit the right spot, and she angled herself, focusing on it and moving even faster, her breasts bouncing in rhythm with her rapid pace. Thrust after thrust, their breathing swiftly turned shaky, chaotic. Their minds grew frantic as their orgasms approached them.

The hero's head tilted back, and she tightly held onto the villain's shoulders as release washed over her. His name left her lips in a low moan that echoed in his head, and it didn't take long for him to come as well, Hero's name leaving him in an identical manner.

Coming down from their highs, they slowed down, enjoying the pleasure for a bit longer with some calm thrusts and movements. They locked in a soft, short kiss before eventually parting and coming to a stop. Together they gasped for air and took a moment to rest as sweat dripped down their bodies.

Once she had regained some energy, Hero slid off Villain, making them both shudder at the feeling. She collapsed on the bed beside him, and soon, he copied her, lying down next to her. The two remained like that for a few minutes, calming their racing hearts and basking in the afterglow.

A small chuckle caught the villain's attention, and he turned his head towards the hero. She gave him a lazy smile before explaining her giddiness. "Looks like we'll need another shower."

He gave her a chuckle of his own before an idea crossed his mind. "Well, I do have a jacuzzi tub..."

With a grin that Hero considered too charming for Villain's own good, he offered, "Wanna take a bath together~?"

She giggled fondly. "Sure."

And then, together, off they went to get cleaned up again.

#hero x villain #villain x hero #writing #writeblr #hero #villain #prompt #writing prompt #short story #request #request prompts #prompt request #hero x villain community #writing community

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the-official-account · 3 years ago

Text

A Dump of my last pre-s2 theories

(and probably my last unqueued post for the day goddamn.)

Originally written yesterday. Edits day of posting. This post builds of evidence not yet presented in cannon but that is public to build the theory. If you consider that spoilers, dni. But here’s the tea:

On june 6th 2022 I sent this doodle to the discord

[ID: a simple, scribbled ink four panel comic showing a person with a short afro working on a laptop and slowly leaning back in their chair, silently, for three panels as the shot slowly zooms on their face which lookis progressively more worried. The last panel shows a close up of their face as they say “I’m worried about Elio.]

in hindsight I don’t know why i had to draw it out but i did? Alongside this I sent the messages

“Part of me wants la catrina to be undeniably good so bad but the more I think about the "nobody tells you what possession feels like" bit from episode one the more nervous i get and then listening to the season two trailer MMMMMMMM me, knowing he's not gonna be okay: I hope he's okay”

to which samy reacted with a single server emoji of that dude smoking and sighing and i have thought about that fucking reaction EVERY DAY SINCE.

But the REAL kicker? this post

[ID: a red blurry zoom in of the words “elio in season 2″]

IT SAYS ELIO HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH DIFFERENT VERSIONS OF GODS BEINGS PRAYED TO IN SEASON TWO. WHICH. WHAT THE FUCK? AS FAR AS WE FUCKING KNOW, EVERY OTHER PERSON WHO ORIGINALLY PRAYED TO LA CATRINA IS DEAD.

[ID: a meme reaction of a guy pointing to a red stringed, paper covered cork board, explaining a conspiracy.]

Anyways. Here’s where i start copying a lot from the discord so it’s more me being weird and less eloquent essay format.

La Catrina's WHOLE DEAL is that she's a blend between Christian and Nahuatl religion. And GUESS WHAT? THE SHORT STORY CONFIRMS THAT THE SAME IS TRUE ABOUT TALIA And the way the baron and la Catrina dance together? And their deeply worrying plan im the final trailer????? I dont have answers but I do have fear .

What does it meeeeean.........I mean clearly if Leo can be an angel while being anti crusade hope isn't lost but......okay this is a stretch but I wonder if there are crusade-approved....is missionaries the word? Like folks with the crusade, who's whole role in the system is to pray to Christian assimilated versions of dangerous gods to overpower past believers and try to control them. It's a STRETCH. But ??????

Shinji's Shinigami man fucker be stable. Shinji if it comes down to it pleeease pull through.

The Good...ish? news is that though the clip about Talia wanting to be a stripper instead of having to kill god (the funniest thing to say but queen shit) she says she HAS to kill god. Not HAD. So. Uhm. Based on structure shit, and stuff Samy mentioned I can't cite rn (understand that I am very tired and most of these rants happen in this same situation) about the show probably being about 3 seasons I think there's a pretty high chance that end of season 2 brings us up to speed with the narration timeline, because that's just a great opportunity there.

Which means that what I mentioned before about Shinji feeling unsafe mentioning where his family is still has a chance to come to change, so yay good. Elio refers to himself as the bane of crusaders or something along those lines, which means that BEFORE he fights god he's still doing pretty well so, hey, he probably won't get zalien god sucked again. Good, cool, chill.

Downside being we can't be absolutely sure if they live through the whole series but HAHAHA HEYYYY ITS FINE

I'm so mad cause I know there are so many details I'm missing that would make me actually chew on wood furniture as much as I say that like for real. I might speed read the transcripts tomorrow [im not gonna so that asjdlfsfasd im tired] which it probably the worst way to consume this show but I have no defense. But the purpose of the recordings though it so help the next generation basically.

They're for preservation, I don't know how they phrased it exactly (sorry but you haven't seen my cry about the internet archive and I'm not gonna get started about the internet archive because it brings me to tears everytime but that's to say wow preservation is a subject and theme that HITS) but it could, alternatively, be very likely that the show recorded before finally preparations to fight TBMINTS

Which, you know, from a writing perspective there really are those two choices. Let the audience know there is a major format-shifting change end of season 2 to build anticipation for the final season OR save that getting up to speed but until the last few episodes of season 3 because a long term formatting change might annoy some audience members. There's also the idea that you can get up to speed, have daily/more recent audio-diary-like things, and then do a format switch end of season 3

We've got to find out about them fighting god somehow, and I don't know if the current format fits that whole deal? Maybe it could, I’d love to see it if it did, but I think the chances for a switch are high and what that says about the pacing of the show has some effect on how sure I am that my faves are gonna live ngl.

Like if you wait til the last few episodes a reflective on the noble deaths of the big 3 would work pretty well and yes it would be a wonderful story if it went that way I have full faith, but I also don't WANT it yk?

But I do not see all the cogs I am a poor fic writer leaning up a cypress tree etc.

[Here, a brief discussion on themes of cultural preservation and how they’re often recorded in real life]

Which HITS with elio especially. And also talia having read that short story. They had parallels but now they have PARALLELS. I just am literally so scared for elio next season though. And Talia by parralell extension but also cause I think Samy mentioned giving more into her deal s2 in the q&a? But less like SCARED scared.

Okay wait hello this is very but IS it a stretch to say there may be legions of believer’s tainting how the god’s menifest? Like it's a stretch if you're assuming these people are AWARE of their roles in the system. That it's an intentional force by each individual directed at helping the crusade

BUUUUUUT TBMINTS runs on media. He run on major movies. If I was the god of a massive, relatively culturally cohesive continent (north America in comparison to, like, Asia, has very few thriving cultures, the colonialism will do that to you) and I was created by, and therefore knew how to leverage, media to harness belief to get more power from humans, like the next step would very obviously be to manufacture more media to help reach my goals.

And if I was manufacturing media to help me goals with a very large, organized force that surely has some sort of research division because what is marketing if not research but evil, I would totally say to myself

Hey!

I can control other gods by controlling the perspectives of their believers!

Hey! I can make people believers and shape their beliefs with media!

Hey! Why not send out various targeted feeds in the news and in pop culture funded by my massive organized theocracy showing the most powerful of my enemies as fitting more cleanly into the idea of good and evil that benefits me, both so that the I convince the subjects of my dominion their is no other alternative than the way I rule and also to hinder the other gods by making them more wreckless and more violent in ways that do not help their ultimate goals and create a cycle of demonizing them in the eyes of the masses? Literally what is stopping me from doing that?

NOTHING.

[Edit: There’s some evidence to by found maybe in that Elio who grew up in the americas had no fucking clue about the governments of europe and japan until he was told. Smells like a propaganda machine to me.]

And if it wasn't TBMINTS plotting himself he's got, like, at least a million bootlickers one of them has gotta be a mastermind with how much holy steroids he pumps into them.

And like. The show's been...well it hasn't defined belief yet, which is really what leaves room for this theory.

Marcus didnt believe in lady luck in the same way elio believed in La Catrina (shrouding themselves in dark robes and praying In basements "it was all very dramatic") he just saw her once and just kinda lived his life knowing that. It only came into play much later when he needed to confront it.

Witches are just assured of themselves and their power. That's a background belief they don't pray to themselves they don't actively maintain that.

And Samar's whole deal?

My point is with the breadth of diversity in what "belief" is in the show and how it powers gods there's definitely space for this crackpot theory still (watch that change as soon as this ep drops shfskhslss) [edit: VINDICATION! you cant call me wrong yet] but if I get even one thing right I'm gonna be elated.

But god also?? Like I feel like we're lead to believe fighting TBMINTS is going to be a physical thing. The trio's growing strengths are very physically centered. But how do you kill a god REALLY? With as many followers as he has even if you somehow slew him, what stops TBMINTS from immediately being reborn? His power comes from the cultural eradication of nonbelievers, and as Leo's sympathetic example could be taken to hint at: you really just can't kill all those people. Many of them are just ...people. not crusaders.

SOOOOOOOOO IN THAT CASE. If you're fighting a god of the media in a world where where all power is based on popular belief and perception is not the best counterattack to create your own media? Physical aptitude keeps them alive, it wins the small battles, but it hearts and minds that win the war

WHAT IF THE REAL UNIMAGINABLY POWERFUL WEAPON WAS THE PODCAST WE'RE LISTENING TO ALL ALONG?!?!?!!?!

#13th #June #2022 #June 13th 2022 #accidentally saved this as a draft on main and im not moving it #but OP is still the one and only edil #i began this rant after midnight #which is neccessary for ontext i think #but i did take a fat nap also #edil theorizes about desperado #desperado podcast

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thelowlysatsuma · 5 years ago

Text

alright dipsticks, hear me out

taz balance au where everything is the same except that lucretia and barry have each others’ farspeech frequencies

it all starts about a year after lucretia voidfishes the plane. she’s poking around goldcliff, hoping to find some way to con some rich shit into paying for her gigantic moon base, when she runs — literally runs headfirst — into some bespectacled nerd in denim

barry, for his part, doesn’t know why this complete stranger is offering to buy him lunch as an apology for spilling his Fantasy Starbucks all over his oldass shirt, but he sure as shit isn’t complaining. especially when something, something about this kid feels so... familiar

in a spur of the moment decision, lucretia gives him her farspeech number. barry doesn’t think anything of it at the time

...anything, that is, until he’s rising, spectral and flickering, over his battered corpse, and he begins laughing hysterically, tears glimmering in long-gone eye sockets. he may not have lup back, but he’s got his little sister.

so they start texting. is barry furious at lucretia for what she’s done? sure, a bit. but he understands her logic, and his temper is soothed when she point-blank tells him that she’s going to help him find lup. they may be working against each other as far as the relics are concerned, but if lucretia can locate at least one more shred of her former family, then by god is she going to. barry understands, he thinks, and so they help keep each other a little less lonely over a long ten years

lucretia keeps barry updated on how the other birds are doing, as best she can. they rejoice together as magnus and julia take back raven’s roost, and when glamour springs is shadowed by a mass poisoning barry has to do everything up to physically restraining lucretia from beating the ass of whichever motherfucker did that to taako. wait, he tells her. physical pain is temporary. a lich, on the other hand, is in a prime position to make some douche’s life a living hell. lucretia grins and offers to fund his plots in any way she can.

barry, for his part, keeps lucretia up-to-date on the search for lup. they have matching little cork boards in their respective offices, each filled with maps and theories and half-baked what-ifs. they aren’t any closer to finding out what happened to her, but they will. they have to.

speaking of things happening, barry is the first one to find lucretia after wonderland. he hadn’t been able to reach her for a month, and so when he feels the enormous surge of pure magical despair explode outwards from the felicity wilds, he transports himself there as quickly as he can. he finds his baby sister at the centre of a mile-wide crater, twenty years older and countless sacrifices poorer, and he holds her as gently as he can without physical hands, and makes her promise to never deal with wonderland again. fuck, he’ll get the animus bell for her, he doesn’t care. he just can’t see lucretia in that state ever again. (never again, that’s what they told themselves, in a group huddle late one night the dawn of cycle 66. he’d failed her once. he couldn’t do it again.)

as she builds up the bureau, lucretia starts getting questions about her best friend on the stone. lucas asks her point blank who it is one day early in their acquaintance, and she answers “b- uh, b-j” “that tells me basically nothing. what does that even stand for?” lucas demands. “uh,” lucretia says, “🅱️amazing jrace”

thus begins a fine tradition of bureau employees trying to get any info they can on the mysterious “bj”, including his actual name. so far some of the top answers they’ve gotten from madame director include “bitchin jackass” “burger joint” “beetlejuice” and “banjo jimboree”. once, robbie asks her if he’s her secret lover, and lucretia has to summon a bucket before retching in disgust, which puts paid to that particular theory fairly succinctly

barry, for his part, adores these rumours. he keeps asking if lucretia will lift the lich barrier, just for a day, so he can come and stir up even more shit. lucretia, while admittedly very tempted, denies.

when he finds out that lucretia has been telling bureau employees that the red robes are evil, barry is understandably insulted. the next group of regulators that touch the ground are covered in fantasy cheez whiz for the duration of their mission.

lucretia gets him back by replacing all the denim in the jeans at his base with silly string. barry moves bases, and the prank war escalates

(no one has the courage to tell madame director that her hair has been turned rainbow at the last candlenights party. privately, lucretia thinks she looks bitchin)

every now and again, lucretia will text barry in a panic. these texts tend to look like this:

“barry.” “barold aid me” “barry I fucked shit up real good this time” “barry” “barry” “barry I was at the fantasy Olive Garden and the waiter said ‘enjoy your meal’ and I said ‘you too’ barry kill me n o w “

barry can and will mock lucretia mercilessly for this. he also insists for weekly video updates on fisher and junior.

he also has biweekly fantasy skype sessions with davenport

booyah: I saw a woman so beautiful I started crying???

bear-old: oh mood

booyah: and then I hired her and her son (who’s a little bitch) to work on my secret moon base and I think I’ve made a terrible mistake???????

bear-old: oh my fucking god this is why I don’t trust you to stop the apocalypse

when the thb start working as reclaimers, barry demands weekly updates on them, as well. it goes about as well as you’d expect

booyah: magnus ate the philosopher’s stone

bear-old: he fucking w h a t ?

booyah: he used the glutton’s fork, and he ATE the philosopher’s stone. taako and merle used stone skin and stone shape to get the damn thing out. happy fucking candlenights.

when barry finds out that taako’s DATING the fool who’s been chasing after him wile e coyote style for over a decade, he loses his s h i t. he and lucretia have a girls’ night where they bitch about taako and eat shitty chocolate to cope

bear-old: you HIRED a BABY???

booyah: he’s ten! that’s plenty old. and he’s certainly competent, seeing as he found my organization when even you couldn’t.

bear-old: creesh please. please do not Irreparably Fuck Up A Small Child

booyah: hey, at least I’m not the one who threw him off a moving train!

bear-old: I never threw anyone off a

bear-old: lucretia

bear-old: who

bear-old: who in your employ threw ANGUS MCDONALD, a LITERAL CHILD, off of a MOVING. VEHICLE?

booyah:

booyah: taako

bear-old: fucking fantasy CHRIST

(they have quite a few girls’ nights eating shitty chocolate and razzing on taako, actually)

team sweet flips goes to the director’s office one day to give a status report and find her red-eyed and coughing. she says she has allergies. the cute cat video barry just texted her on her stone, however, begs to differ

lucretia preps the boys for refuge, yes, but her mind is filled with texts and tomes and the letters “l u p” carved into a bureau wall. she passes countless sleepless nights with barry on the line, trying to decipher what it all means

but they emerge from the woven gulch unscathed, and that can only mean one thing: wonderland

she doesn’t tell barry where she’s sending them. she can’t let him interfere out of some misguided attempt to save her from the place. her texts grow few and far between

she doesn’t have to tell barry. he knows

the day they get sent out, as lucretia breaks down in her office, surrounded by a dizzying vastness that could envelop her very being if she would just let it, her stone buzzes.

four words: I’ll keep them safe

and then?

well, then it’s the end of the world

(but when lup emerges from her decade-long cage, phantasmal and resplendent, lucretia and barry share a look)

(and when the hunger is consuming the only home she knows and she’s flying out in one last attempt to face is, barry is on her stone)

(and when the dust settles and they’re finally, finally free, when the world hears a story and a song and former and current bureau employees alike learn just how important the mysterious “bj” really is, when lucretia looks at the wreckage of her life’s work and home and family — when all that happens, barry is the one to beckon to her with open arms.)

(they’ve been beside the other for a hundred and ten years, after all. that’s not gonna fucking change now.)

anyways yeah folks barry and lucretia texting au play with me in this space

@littlemisscritical @thatcoldfeeling and you know what? @herbgerblin what the hell

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regicidal-defenestration · 4 years ago

Text

Victoria Died (and then some other things happened and we all got a bit distracted sorry about that Victoria)

A Death by Dying / Lost Cat Podcast crossover fic, because I think the Lost Cat narrator and Obituary Writer deserve to meet each other

[Lost Cat Narrator]

They say you have to go far away to realise what you had close by all along. They never did say exactly how far though…

[LCN]

“You need a holiday,” said Bojana.

“What.” I said, because it’s quite an odd topic to spring on a person like that.

“You need a holiday,” she said again. “I’ve booked us the plane tickets already.”

I didn’t say “what” again, because you can overdo these things. “I have work.”

“Your podcast?” Bojana asked, and she sounded unfairly incredulous.

“And make music,” I added. “And-”

Bojana stopped me. “You can do all that in America.”

America? I thought to myself. “America?” I asked out loud, with more emphasis. “I’m not going to America.”

“Yes you are,” Bojana said, and like that, it was sorted. We were off to America.

[LCN]

The sign cheerfully welcomed us to the small town of Crestfall, Idaho, and informed us that it had been 5 days since the last unexplained death.

“That isn’t very reassuring,” I said.

“It’ll be a local joke,” said Bojana, but she didn’t sound very sure. Unexplained deaths, it seems, are an international uniting factor. Fun!

We stayed staring at the sign for a few more moments, in case any more unexplained deaths happened whilst we were watching. And one did, technically, although we didn’t actually get to see anyone die, which was disappointing. A man pushed past us, felt tip in hand, and carefully crossed out the number 5 and replaced it with a 0.

He turned to us and frowned. “You’re new.”

This felt accusatory.

Bojana said: “Did you kill them?”, because Bojana is good at cutting to the point, whereas I am more used to using enough words to make a story seem long enough to be worth it.

The man didn’t answer, which was definitely worrying, because you would think it is easy to say whether or not you’re a murderer. He had a firm, steady gaze, the kind that seems to have an internal monologue behind it, just on the edge of hearing. An internal monologue that might have sounded something like:

[Obituary Writer]

Victoria was dead, to begin with.

She was dead afterwards too, but I think misquoting famous literature always helps set the mood.

Victoria was dead, to begin with, and when I went to update Crestfall’s Unexplained Deaths Board, there were two strangers there, staring at it. You can always tell who’s new here, because for some reason they all react to the Unexplained Deaths Board with the same concern.

I turned to them after changing the number, and introduced myself.

“I am the modest and handsomely dressed Obituary Writer of this little town called Crestfall. You must be new here, I can show you around if you want?”

I also took a moment to adjust my stance so that they could both hopefully see the enamel pin on my lapel, which is in the shape of a typewriter and coloured with the bisexual flag colours, because they both seemed friendly, and you never know.

The woman looked at me suspiciously. “Did you kill them?” she asked. Her eyes bore into me like she was trying to read the truth of my very soul, like if she just looked hard enough all the secrets of Victoria’s death would be laid out before her. It was the kind of stare that you can hear the internal monologue behind. An internal monologue, that might sound something like…

(the sound of howling wind. In the distance, a crow caws)

Only joking. It’s impossible to hear other people’s internal monologues, no matter what Dan the Fake Tarot Man who lives on the edge of town claims.

A crying shame.

“You’re taking a long time to answer that,” the man pointed out.

“I am merely investigating Victoria’s death,” I replied, sounding suitably serious about the whole matter. “If you would like, I can show you my current notes?”

The man frowned. “Why is an obituary writer investigating a death?” he muttered, more like he was speaking to himself than to me. However-

“Obituary Writer,” I corrected him.

A slight pause. “Yes? That’s what I said.”

“You called me an obituary writer, but I am the Obituary Writer." Ugh. Tourists.

The man and I held each other’s gazes. He seemed to be having an internal discussion with himself, perhaps even an argument.

Again - it really is a shame we cannot hear the thoughts and motives of others, don’t you think?

The silence stretched out long and sharp. I shifted. His eyes flicked down to my enamel badge. I looked slightly past his left ear. He looked up to a spot between my eyebrows.

"I’m Bojana,” said Bojana. “Can we see your notes?”

[LCN]

Currently, my life does not have a motto, but if it did, I might decide on “never follow someone back to their house when they have already talked, at length, about murder.”

“We’re going to die,” I whispered to Bojana.

“We might not be,“ she whispered back, unhelpfully. "Besides, we’re on holiday. Lighten up a bit.”

“Whilst searching for my cat, I have found all manner of things,” I whispered, although it was louder this time, and so more like a murmur. “Some of those things have been death, and some have been worse still, although I won’t go into those, since we are on holiday. The point is - I have no wish to be killed again.”

“You two aren’t very quiet whisperers,” the Obituary Writer called back, stopping in front of a door and rooting around in his pockets for a key.

“Besides, I’m not a murderer, and I find that accusation slightly offensive.”

Beckoning us to follow, he pushed the door open and disappeared inside.

I must admit: the house fit his whole aesthetic exactly. The curtains were a deep red, the carpets thick and shaggy, and there was, naturally, a typewriter, rather than a computer, left out on the dark oak table. There was another little pride flag in a skull-shaped mug, and on one wall hung a cork board that was covered in notes and red string.

“The house at Land’s End” read one note, which connected to another that said “The end of Land’s House???”, with three question marks, which is far too many for any normal person to use. Clearly, this job had put the Obituary Writer under large amounts of stress.

I went to read further when -

(the meow of a man-eating cat)

- my thoughts were interrupted.

He has a cat?

“You have a cat?” Bojana asked before I could. Damn.

[Obituary Writer]

The One Who Hunts wound himself between the man’s legs, purring.

“Three, actually. The One Who Hunts, The One Who Glares, and The One Who Sulks. They don’t eat people.”

My two guests didn’t take that last sentence quite how I thought they would. The man stopped his idle scratching between The One Who Hunts’ ears. Bojana took half a step towards the door.

“Okay, usually,” she began, “you don’t need to reassure someone that your cats won’t eat them.”

“But I like to reassure people.”

Bojana frowned. “I don’t feel reassured.” She looked over at her friend. “Do you feel reassured?”

“I got eaten by cats once, whilst searching for my own,” the man said, with a dramatic stare into the middle distance. “They ate my right hand and my left foot, then they ate my nose and my tongue. My ribs were gnawed and my heart-”

“Dude,” interrupted Bojana. “We’re on holiday, remember?”

The man held up his hands apologetically but I was keen to hear more. If he had truly been eaten alive by cats, then I, the Obituary Writer, wanted to write him a damn good obituary. And with all due respect to Victoria, who was a much loved member of the community and will be sorely missed by all - this was the most interesting thing to happen all week.

“No please,” I said, “go on. I might even write you an obituary.”

The man smiled- no- grinned.

“Well then. How about I tell you, over a glass of wine?”

(the narrator begins his song. It’s bittersweet, about missing cats, lost friends, and returning home at last)

[LCN]

When I finished telling my story, the Obituary Writer thought for a long time.

A long, long time.

“I think,” he said, at last, “you should meet my friend.”

[LCN]

Bojana said: “Dude.”

I said: “I know.”

Bojana repeated again: “Dude.”, a little more firmly.

I said: “I know.”

She pinched her arm. “Am I dreaming? I don’t think my imagination is good enough to make this up.”

“We’re going, on the insistence of someone who may well be a murderer, to see the Angel of Death, who is not, as it were, a metaphor, and who is, unlike her sibling, the Angel of Life, quite a nice person, apparently.”

Bojana sighed. “I was afraid you’d say that,” she said sadly.

“If this all turns out not to be a metaphor,” I took a deep breath, “I’d just like to say-”

“I’m not going to kill you,” someone interrupted with a voice like light refracted in glass.

We screamed, Bojana grabbing my shoulder and me grabbing her arm. When we realised what we had done, we stayed like that anyway, because sometimes the comfort of having another person is worth more than pretending to be cool.

The woman was beautiful in the way that wildflowers growing up and out of a sheep’s skull are beautiful. She was pale and almost translucent, with a pair of great wings of bone folded against her back. Her eyes were old and sad, and her dress fluttered in the breeze like moth wings.

The Angel of Death.

Bojana opened and shut her mouth a few times, trying and failing to find the words. “…dude,” she whispered at last, awe-struck. And then, slightly more worried - “Are you going to kill us?”

The Angel cocked her head at us curiously. “I just said I wasn’t. Besides, I do not kill people. Only Life kills people.”

I asked: “Can I use that line in my podcast?” and Bojana trod on my foot to get me to shut up.

The Angel ignored both of us, which was probably for the best. “Why have you come to see me?” she asked instead.

“Your friend is concerned about my friend,” Bojana said. “It was the bit about getting eaten by cats, I think.”

In the trees, a raven cried out. “Woeful are the lost and woeful are the found! Caw!”

You know, I never realised American ravens were so eloquent.

“They didn’t kill you though,” asked the Angel, in a way that wasn’t a question.

“I got better.”

“You bled out all over our nice carpet,” Bojana muttered.

The Angel of Death didn’t say anything and that was an answer enough.

“My cat is lost, and I miss it,” I began. “My search for it has lasted many years now, because I know that it isn’t dead. I have found people playing at being monsters and monsters playing at being people and I have found everyone else, who just sort of exist in the middle of those two states. I have been to strange places through strange portals and I have been to strange places like America, and, despite all, of this my cat is still lost.”

The wind blew through the trees, a dog barked in the distance, the world turned on and on. My cat, wherever it is, meowed.

The Angel looked at us with her sad eyes. “Why do you search for something forever out of reach, ignoring those around you? Your cat will return - all lost cats must show up somewhere.”

In a flurry of feathers, a raven settled on her shoulder. The light glinted off its eyes and I saw they were not eyes at all, but buttons. It cawed again as the Angel fed it a berry.

“Listen please: in life, death. In death, life. Enjoy it. Live a full, good life. It will make the wine taste better” She frowned for a moment. “Another person said those words before me, but I like them. Sometimes, it’s nice to have someone else tell you about what you already know.”

And then she was gone, fading away like smoke spreading out into the night sky.

Bojana let out a long, quiet whistle. “Do you think she’s single?”

#yes this fic has two narrators and sometimes they narrate the other person's speech what of it #death by dying #the lost cat podcast #writing #podcats (note spelling)#tumblr stop fucking with the formatting challenge

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thealphabetmurders · 5 years ago

Text

Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends

2.9k words | AO3 Link | warnings: hurt/comfort, alcohol, drink spiking (nothing bad, Remus wants to spike the punch at Prom), implied/referenced underage drinking, crying, self hatred, self-esteem issues, mentions of surgery.

Roman went to his senior prom by himself, depressed and lonely. Janus shows up and Roman is certainly is not going to leave alone.

(Roman wants people to love him, Janus comforts him and helps him realize there is only one person who he needs love from)

***

Roman tugged off his bowtie, hastily shoving it in his pocket and collapsed on the pavement next to his car, hitting his head against the metal as he fought back hot tears, still very aware that he was in public. He felt stupid, so incredibly stupid. Roman should have known that going to prom was a bad idea. Well, more like, going to Prom alone was a bad idea.

Roman went as a 7th wheel with a group of theater kids he didn’t know too well, it becoming increasingly more obvious that they wanted him there mainly to take pictures (partially out of pity too, he’s sure). He felt happy for his friends during pictures, he was okay with paying for himself for dinner, he had to get his own punch and cake but that’s okay, but when the slow songs started playing and people paired off, Roman just couldn’t do it. Watching idly by as the music slowed and the couples looked at each other with love in their eyes… God it sucks.

Clicking open his phone, wincing slightly at the bright screen, Roman estimated he had at least 15 minutes before he was found out and a member of his Prom group would attempt to come find him outside- outside alone.

He was a pretty good actor, he would simply act like nothing was wrong, and just went out to his car to put his suit jacket in the backseat because it was getting hot. Despite the venue in question being freezing, it is not as though anyone would question him. Why would they care? Roman came to Prom alone, and he expects anyone to care about his well being? This is supposed to be the best and most romantic night of his high school career. Roman should be happy for his friends that they are happy!... And yet, here he was.

The red jacket was tugged off and haphazardly thrown in the back seat of his car. He rolled up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, Roman was getting a bit warm in the spring weather. He sighed deeply, stretching his back and shoulders when he felt it: He touched his chest and saw 2 small black buttons had popped off of his shirt. Now, even if he wanted to put on his tie again, he couldn’t, and he didn’t have a sewing kit to put the buttons back on.

Roman looked on the ground near his shoe and saw the offending piece of plastic, picking it up with shaky hands. He looked at the object, ghosts of strings around the 4 holes and he felt the dam break.

Clutching the button so hard it hurt, he threw it across the parking lot, before collapsing on the trunk of his car, sobbing to himself. The warm metal felt nice against his bare forearms, though it was something he barely noticed, the tightness in his chest and throat being the only sensations he could focus on at the moment.

Roman’s headache from the dehydration and the string of evil thoughts only grew plaguing his mind. Horrible thoughts swirled his consciousness, whispers to himself about how he would never find love and everyone around him was simply pretending to like him. He would never be good enough for anyone. Not a romantic partner, not his family, not his friends, and certainly not himself.

After a good, long few minutes, the tears and sobs began to peter out. Though the corners of his eyes still felt moisture, no actual tears would fall. He stood up straight, rubbing his eyes and taking a couple calming breaths, hoping to turn his erratic breath back to normal.

Roman felt himself calm down, that was until a voice appeared behind him.

“I am guessing this is yours?” Roman nearly jumped out of his own skin, yelping, when he realised that there was someone standing behind him.

The older man was standing there, definitely not dressed for Senior Prom, holding a small black object between his fingers. Janus smiled and tossed the button over to an unprepared Roman, who barely caught the offending piece of plastic.

“H-how long have you been standing there?” Roman swallowed thickly.

Janus’s face shifted into something Roman could not decipher, his gaze shifting away, “What answer do you want me to give you?”

Roman inhaled deeply, biting his lip and feeling that tightness in his throat again, but refused to give in this time. “What are you doing here?” Opting to switch topics entirely rather than answer.

Janus sighed, reaching for the bag that was casually slung over his shoulder, “Your brother texted me, saying he wanted me to bring vodka,”

Roman frowned, “Remus? Remus told me he didn’t want to come,”

“That is what he told me he told you as well, yes, but in the last hour or so he changed his mind. He said he only wanted to go so he could spike the punch,” He lifted the alcohol so Roman could barely see it, “I was happy to take him up on that. I also brought some bubbly for myself,” Janus peeked out another bottle, this one a corked one of champagne.

Rolling his eyes, Roman gave Janus a pointed look, “Why exactly are you indulging Remus’ ideas?”

Janus shrugged, “It happened at my Prom,”

“By you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Janus smirked, chuckling slightly “I told my whole class that if they nominated me for Prom King that I would spike the punch. Guess who won and got wasted on Prom night?”

Roman shook his head, smiling slightly, “I am sure the transphobes loved that,”

Janus bit his lip, stifling a laugh that a part of Roman longed to hear, “Standing up on stage as the Prom King is almost on the same level as my top surgery in terms of absolute gender euphoria,”

Roman nodded, his mouth smiling but his chest and head still ached, the corner of his eyes still burning, “Well, you should go meet Remus, I am sure he is most likely waiting for you by now,”

Janus’ expression shifted from playful to concern and Roman cursed internally, “Roman, you are a fool if you believe I am just going to leave you out here alone,” Janus strode up to him and leaned against the car with him, arms and shoulders pressed up against one another, “You thinking I am going to simply ignore the fact that you were in hysterics not two minutes ago, makes me worry that you think I am an actual villain,”

Roman didn’t say anything, he just looked down at his shoes, then glancing again at his shirt with the two buttons missing. He pulled at the strings left behind, littering them onto the pavement.

“Look, you do not have to talk about it. But, I do believe it would be beneficial to air out your problems,” Janus spoke cooly, looking up at the stars in the night sky. Roman looked at him from the corner of his eyes. His eyes trailed over his black curls, passing his eyebrow scar, and down to his long legs, one kicked up against the car, “Again, say something or don’t, but this is the last time I am going to bring it up,”

Roman knew that if he simply said ‘Janus, I do not want to talk about this’, then the older man would drop it in an instant. However, he somehow couldn’t bring himself to lie in front of him, because he wanted nothing more than to spill his heart out to him. He never had anymore who seemed to care before. There was Remus, of course, but Roman always felt as though he had to protect his twin from himself, so he was the sounding board- he was the listener. Roman couldn’t have his own problems with Remus was already dealing with so much. Roman doesn’t have any friends he trusts to listen to his insecurities, even if he did, why would they care? He’s a bit lonely and doesn’t like the way he looks, so what? In the grand scheme of things, that doesn’t matter. When it comes to Roman, nothing matters.

“Okay, so you don’t want to talk, that’s fine, but-”

“I don’t think I am good enough,” Roman interrupted.

When Janus realised there was no follow up, he nodded, “Good enough at what?”

Roman chuckled weakly, “Where to start? I am not that good of a student, there are far superior singers than I, I don’t have the picture perfect blue eyed blonde hair appearance that everyone so classically loves, I do not exactly have any skills that no one can do better, and I also am loud and eccentric and awful. That is never going to change. No matter what I do, or who I pretend to be, everyone is always going to hate me and they are absolutely right to,”

Roman sniffled, and Janus noticed the way his voice got more choked up as he continued his tirade. There was only silence for a while, before Janus sighed, finally looking over at him. Roman made eye contact, feeling slightly dizzy and nervous looking into Janus’ deep brown eyes.

Janus looked down, a redness that was only noticeable thanks to the street lights covered his cheeks. He stayed silent for a few moments before speaking, “I am not going to stand here and tell you all the things that I like about you, and why everything you just said is untrue. I am sure that you would just think I am lying to you anyway,” Roman winced at the words and looked down, the rhythms of his breathing starting to eradicate, “Hey, stay with me,” Janus pleaded, grabbing Roman wrist, and he looked up again, “I am not going to pretend to know what everyone thinks of you. I am sure there are plenty of people who do hate, more than you think,”

Roman frowned, “Uh, than-”

“Do please continue to interrupt me Roman, I will definitely reach my point faster that way,” Janus shook his head, and continued, “I am sure there are plenty of people who dislike you. There are plenty of people who dislike me too. I have hurt and lied and manipulated people. I am better now, but it doesn’t change the fact that those people will never like me. Knowing that, let me ask you this: does having many people hate me make me any less worthy of the life I am living?”

Roman swallowed, “Well, no-”

“Does me making mistakes in my past negate any progress I make in the future?”

“No,”

“Do I deserve to die, or experience pain because there are people who exist that dislike me?”

“Obviously not, Janus, what-”

Janus cut him off once again, “So, tell me Roman, why are you the exception? What exactly makes you so special that you think you are the only one who deserves the pain they are getting because, what, idiots in your Tech Theater class don’t like you?”

Roman sighed, removing Janus’ grip of his wrist and running a hand through his hair, “I don’t think I deserve to get hurt or die because of that, it’s not that bad, I just…” Roman growled, frustrated, and hit the door of his car with the palm of his hand, “I have nothing to offer anyone!” He shouted, heartbroken, “Nothing to give. Anything I can do, I can think of 5 other people who could do it better. It’s not that I don’t deserve to live, it is just that I am unneeded and unwanted,”

Clawing at his face, Roman felt the tears creep up again and wanted to shout and wanted to run away. He was so angry at himself and at his friends at and stupid kind and beautiful Janus.

Roman turned away, still fighting off the tears, but Janus harshly grabbed his shoulder, turning him around, before using the collar of his shirt to pull him into a firm, comforting hug. Roman opened his mouth to speak, but Janus beat him to it, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to hide. I am here for you. I will stay out here as long as I have to. I am here for you,” He threaded his fingers through Roman’s hair, “I promise,”

Roman’s will broke as he gripped the back of Janus’ flannel, sobbing into his shoulder once again, holding onto Janus so tightly he was afraid he would break the other man. Janus said nothing, simply letting Roman cry, rubbing his thumb on his back with one hand and running his hands through the locks of the younger’s hair with the other.

“I apologise if what I said made things worse, that was not my intention in any way,” Janus said, guilt present in his voice.

Roman shook his head sniffling, his voice hoarse and broken, “I know, don’t apologise. What you said was right. I just wish I had a little more, y’know, worth to people,”

There was a beat, and Janus spoke up after a while, “Can I ask you something, Roman?”

The sobs had become less frequent, being replaced with silent tears and sniffles, “Okay,” He responded.

Janus pulled back from their embrace, but still holding onto Roman, arms around his waist, “Why do you feel the need to judge your self worth based upon your output to others?”

Frowning, Roman looked at Janus, “You sound like school, I don’t understand what you are saying,”

“You seem to judge yourself based upon what you can do for other people,” Janus said, stepping closer to Roman. Roman arms went around Janus’ shoulders, their chests almost flushed against one another, “You keep saying that ‘people can do things better than me’ and ‘no one needs me’ and that you’re unattractive, all untrue statements, for the record, what about the things you do for yourself?”

Roman swayed slightly, Janus following his movements, “I do not do anything for myself, I do not like myself enough to do so,”

Janus chuckled, now moving his feet to lead the two around, ever so slightly, “Oh? Well, I certainly believe you,”

“I don’t,”

Janus gave Roman a pointed look, “You don’t dress yourself the way you do for yourself? You don’t style your hair or use the nice smelling shampoo or body wash for yourself? The music that you listen to while you exercise or in the car alone, who is that for other than you?” Roman stayed silent, letting Janus lead him in their dance and conversation, “You eat the food you want for yourself. You watch the movies and shows you want for yourself. You picked a red suit for Prom because red is your favorite color, you did it all for you. You live so much of your life simply for you, so why do you believe that you need to perform for others to have self worth?”

Roman parted his lips slightly, looking at Janus. Janus let go of his waist, and then grabbed Roman’s hand to twirl him around, pulling him closer into his arms after the fact. The other man looked into Roman’s honey brown eyes, feeling very exposed, but also never more cared for, “You are going to spend your whole life with one person: yourself. In the end, it matters less what you can do for others, and more about what you should do for yourself. Roman, you need to fall in love with who you are, because there is so much about you to love,” Janus gently cupped his cheek, and Roman felt as though he could barely breathe.

A few minutes of silence went by, Roman resting his head on Janus’ shoulder as they slow danced in the parking lot. No people around to impress. No music to follow the beat. This is just for them. Janus spoke up after a while. “How are you feeling?”

Biting his lip, Roman sighed, and he couldn’t fight the small smile that was on his face, “You, uh, you’re really good at this Janus,”

Janus smiled softly, “It is unfortunately from experience, but I am getting better,” The older man took one of Roman’s hands and kissed his knuckles. Using that same hand, Janus pulled Roman in and softly kissed him on the cheek, the other almost melting under his touch.

“What do you say, my prince? Shall we go inside? Perhaps have a proper dance?” Janus smirked, but not letting go Roman hand.

“Are you even allowed inside? You graduated,”

Janus shrugged, “Probably not, I am also most likely not supposed to give your brother vodka so he can spike the punch, so,”

Roman couldn’t fight the smile and playful giggles that were now escaping his lips, “Self love is illegally sneaking in the former Prom King to your dance and spiking the punch for your awful classmate,”

Janus kissed Roman’s cheek once more, “Now you are getting it, my prince,”

The two walked hand and hand to meet up with Remus outside, his twin (also not dressed for Prom) wiggled his eyebrows and smirked, to which Roman put him in a headlock and tickled him till he couldn’t breathe.

Roman distracted the supervisor as they snuck in the alcohol and spiked the punch, giggling and laughing the whole time. He didn’t look for the group he came with, they didn’t seem too concerned about his whereabouts anyway. That’s fine, he liked hanging out with Remus and Janus better anyway, comforted with the knowledge that they love him for him. And when his favorite song played while the two were in the bathroom, well, he danced wildly in the middle of the stage by himself, not needing to impress anyone, and having fun on that night for no one else but himself.

#My writing #sanders sides #thomas sanders #roceit #roman sanders #janus sanders #deciet sanders #high school au #prom au #look at this #it is cute #it also has kind of a lesson or whatever #about self love #and the things we do for ourselves #nice #also I tried a new format for tumblr fics what do you think

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zims-left-shoe · 5 years ago

Text

Agent Mothman (Dib x Male Reader)

Like most of my other fics, characters are aged up to high school. Plus, a friendly reminder that my request box is open!!

The silence was overwhelming. The pressure of everyone's collective held breath was almost palpable, your chest reactively tightening for no good reason. As you looked around you, eyes were wide, jaws were set and clenched in preparation to cringe. The only two who stuck out from the crowd were Zim and Dib, when did they not? Zim looked lost in thought, mind seemingly several thousand galaxies away, hands folded together neatly in front of his face, his chin resting on them. Dib, on the other hand, appeared to be over the whole ordeal. His posture was slouched as he stared ahead at the board through half-lidded eyes. As the quiet persisted, an anxious energy settled over your classmates (besides the two previously mentioned, of course). Eyes twitched, fingernails scraped the tables, feet began to tap restlessly on the floor.

"Y/n." The teacher finally spoke, bringing the whole class to sigh in relief, the building pressure suddenly released all at once. Many students leaned back in their chairs, high fiving each other. "Y/n, you will be partnered with Dib." You shrugged your shoulders as many looked to you in pity, some even whispering their sympathies. You had never aligned yourself with any group in particular throughout your school year. Granted, you were only a few months in, but you had switched schools so much you had learned to play the field. You avoided Dib considering his stigma, enabling you to be tolerated by the majority, however you were never mean to him. In fact, you rather liked him. You only chose to silently observe him rather than act upon your curiosity.

"But wait, who's going to be paired with Zim?" You heard a student groan, everyone's breath being held once more. You let your gaze drift over to your partner. He seemed relieved, a slight smile settling on his lips. This was probably the best case scenario for everyone. No one else had to work with Dib, and you were the only one who never picked on him for being just a bit different.

Once your teacher had finished reading names, you were all asked to sit with your partners. Without an ounce of reluctance, you sauntered over to Dib's otherwise empty table, taking one of the many available seats surrounding him. You needed to figure out a plan quickly, considering you only had one night to do the project. The project wasn't super taxing, in fact it seemed almost like busy work that would promote socialization at the same time, but it wasn't like your time frame was ideal.

"Dib, right?" You held up your hand in a slight wave. "I don't think I've officially introduced myself. I'm Y/n."

"I know. The new kid who has no real friends yet is somehow still deemed acceptable by the popular kids? An anomaly for sure." Red painted his face, his eyes widening as he realized how his words may have came off as. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound rude. Or creepy. You know what? I'll just stop talking." An awkward chuckle escaped your lips as his eyes fell to his sneakers. After a slight pause, Dib spoke again, his tone much more reserved than before. "I can just do the whole project and you can put your name on it if you want. It's not that hard." He was giving you an out, not wanting to piss you off. Reaching an arm out, you slugged his shoulder lightly.

"Nah, come on. I don't roll that way. Besides, I want to hang out with you a little."

"You...want to hang out...with me?" Dib pointed a finger to himself, eyes wide behind his large glasses. An incredulous expression was etched into every single feature of his face, as if he couldn't believe those words left your mouth.

"Yeah." After that syllable, the bell rang, dismissing you from school. You stood up, gathering your things. "Anyway, I'll be at your place after dinner. Just text me your address or whatever." You quickly scribbled your digits down on a scrap piece of paper that was laying around, passing it to him. "See ya!" You dashed away, sneaking one last glance back to see Dib still sitting in his chair, as still as a statue, not believing that this was even happening.

Your stomach felt as if it was full of butterflies, and you couldn't shake the grin that had spread across your face as you began your walk home.

God...he was even cuter than I thought... You were embarrassed by your own thoughts, pinching yourself on the arm. Truth was, you may or may not have been stalking him a little. He lived in your neighborhood, and you just couldn't help it. You had always been a hopeless romantic of sorts, and all it took was one look at him in class giving a presentation on the gremlin in his backyard and you were in love. You didn't even need his address, you knew where he lived, but you didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable, so you asked for it anyway. Plus, it was a way to sneak him your number. And it wasn't as if you were actively trying to find out where he lived. It was pretty much impossible to ignore him and Zim screaming at each other as they ran back and forth between their houses all day.

"This is going to be a long night." You sighed out, foot striking out to kick a rock, the satisfying skittering sounds it made calming your nerves a small amount.

You drew in a deep breath as you brought your fist to the door, rapping on it a few times. Rocking back on your heels, you clutched your notebook and other supplies tightly to your chest, internally cringing at yourself. Everyone at school thought you were incredibly cool, but on the inside, you were just a lovesick gay who was overflowing with big dumb energy. The door swung open, bringing you to jump and be pulled from your motivational speech that was being given inside your head.

"Come on in. I'm surprised you showed up." Dib stepped aside to let you in, gesturing past the living room to the kitchen where a purple-haired girl sat at a table, picking at the remaining food on her plate. A floating monitor hovered near the table as well. "We're just finishing dinner, but you can follow me if you want." Nodding, you padded behind the social outcast wordlessly, taking a seat next to him at the table. "Gaz, this is Y/n, my partner for my project. Y/n, this is my sister Gaz."

"Hey." You waved to the girl. Her expression remained squinty as she continued to pick at her food, eyes dancing between her plate and a Game Slave which was charging on the counter.

"Whatever." She grumbled, never even directly acknowledging your existence once. You began to wonder if Dib was actually the most normal out of his entire family, which was saying something. Dib awkwardly cleared his throat as he pointed to the floating monitor, which displayed a man in a lab coat and goggles furiously working on something.

"Oh, and this is my dad. He's at work right now, like usual. When he can't be with us for dinner, he either videocalls us from his lab or plays a pre-recorded video reminding us of chores and dinner instructions." Despite how sad the things he had just said sounded, not an ounce of bitterness was up for display on his face. Instead, his eyes shone with pride, happy to have a dad who was making a difference in the world, even if he could never really be a conventional father. "Anyway, just let me clean up and then we can get to work." Dib stood up, bringing his own plate over to the sink and running it under water, placing it in in its respective place in the dishwasher afterwards. Waving for you to follow him, he led you down the hall to a room that was clearly his. The door was covered in posters and stickers of aliens and other supernatural creatures, a good sized "Keep Out" sign the centerpiece. You wondered what would be inside, becoming excited. You figured you were the first person besides his own family to be seeing his room. He twisted the knob, casually pushing the door open, allowing you to step inside.

"Wow..." You trailed off as you glanced around. There was so much to look at. Your eyes darted from one thing to the next, barely able to take it all in. There were several computer monitors surrounding a desk that was littered in papers and catalogues for supernatural hunting items, a few prototypes of possibly his dad's inventions scattered there as well. His room was lined with posters of aliens and other entities, an important looking briefcase thrown haphazardly onto his bed. The one thing that held your gaze the longest was a ginormous cork board. Several photos, drawings, diagrams, and hurried scribbles of notes were tacked up there, filling it to the max. Each paper was connected with color coded strings, things circled in colored pen seemingly at random, although you knew better. It was the definition of organized chaos. In large, bold, red letters, one word was scrawled on a paper at the top of the board: ZIM.

"I'm sorry, I tried to clean it as best I could. It's still kind of a mess." Dib hurriedly stacked papers together on his desk, trying to make it look presentable.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. You should see my room. Half of my shit isn't even out of boxes yet, and we moved in months ago." You laughed, sitting down on his floor. "So, alien invasion, huh? Isn't Zim that kid with the skin condition?" You asked, gesturing to his cork board. His shoulders tensed as he unplugged his computer and brought it down to the ground, taking a seat beside you.

"Could we just get to work? Please?" He seemed to want to sweep that subject under the rug, and you decided that you would let him.

"Okay...so anyway, this research poster. You got a topic in mind?" Your prompt drew him out of his unsociable shell, albeit hesitantly.

"Personally, I was thinking Area 51, but if you wanted to do something else..." He genuinely appeared to not want to upset you, despite usually not caring about how he came off to others.

"That sounds great, Dib. Interesting too. You think they're really hiding aliens there?" Laying down on your stomach, you rested your face in the palms of your hands, gearing up for a long talk. A smile crept onto your face as immediately his eyes lit up.

"I'm glad you asked."

"I think we have the essentials. Now we just need to get them onto the poster, which is probably the most time consuming part." Dib stretched his arms towards the ceiling while you yawned and cracked your back. You didn't know how long you had been sitting on the floor for, but a glance to the clock by his bed told you it was 8:01 pm. The two of you had spent the last couple of hours researching, organizing notes, and mainly just talking about yourselves. You had no idea why everyone constantly was ragging on him. You found him to be incredibly interesting and entertaining, hanging onto every single word he spoke. You weren't really sure if you believed in all of these supernatural creatures, but you also didn't think that they couldn't exist.

"I think so too. You ready to start on the poster now?" Reaching out, you gathered the posterboard and construction paper Dib had brought in from his garage together.

"Yeah, in a minute. I have to use the bathroom and then see what Gaz is up to, I'll be back in a few." You hummed a response, Dib standing up and exiting, closing the door softly behind him. Deciding to take a closer look at the Zim conspiracy board, you pushed yourself to your feet, leaning close to try and decipher the grainy images. One in particular caught your eye. It wasn't in color, and everything seemed fairly blurry. Zim, or what was supposedly Zim, was hunched over something that looked to be a robot. Except, as you looked even closer, Zim seemed to have these buggish eyes and long, skinny antennae in place of his hair. Rubbing your eyes, you flopped down onto Dib's bed.

"God, I must be seeing things." You had managed to convince yourself that you had been staring at computer screens and papers for far too long, and that your eyes were playing tricks on you, showing you what Dib wanted you to see. Closing your eyes for a minute, the rise and fall of your chest turned slow and steady, and you could feel your grip on reality loosening.

A ringtone of sorts snapped you back from your almost-doze, and at first you thought it was your phone, but after waking up a bit more, you realized it was coming from one of Dib's monitors. It appeared he was getting a call. The monitor showed nothing besides a logo of some sort of eye, as well as an option to accept the call or decline. Filled with curiosity, your feet took you to his desk where his monitor sat. You barely felt in control of your body as your finger swiped at the screen in the direction to accept the call.

"Agent Mothman-" The voice coming through the monitor was distorted, but you got the impression that it was on purpose. The image displayed was a dark silhouette of what seemed to be a man. "You're not Mothman."

"You mean that cryptid from West Virginia? No. I'm not." You took a seat in Dib's desk chair, which was very comfy. You assumed he spent a lot of time in it when he wasn't hanging out with Zim.

"Who are you and what do you know?" The voice was menacing, and you vaguely wondered if Dib was involved in something more serious than you thought. Quirking an eyebrow, you tried to not let any miniscule amount of fear you were feeling show.

"I'm, we'll just say Agent, uh...Nessie." Feeling uncreative, your mind drifted to the Loch Ness Monster.

"You're not Nessie either."

"You got one of those too? Ugh, fine. What about Agent Chupacabra?"

"Well, no, but...you're not any agent we know of."

"But I could be! Agent Chupacabra reporting for duty!" You brought your hand up to your head stiffly in a mock salute.

"But you're not a member of the Swollen Eyeball! What are you doing on Mothman's computer?"

"The Swollen what now?" You were smiling stupidly, only because you couldn't really grasp what the current situation was.

"Hey, sorry, Gaz decided to hound me over drinking the last soda, so I took a little longer than I thought-" Dib opened the door to reveal you sitting in his desk chair, trying to look all spooky for the guy in the monitor. You thought he'd laugh at your stupidity, but he was not in the least bit amused. "OH MY GOD AGENT DARK BOOTY!" Slamming his room door, he darted over to where you were sitting, almost tripping and falling on his face. He made a strangled noise as he noticed the disappointed expression that rested on the silhouette's face.

"Who is your little friend, Agent Mothman?" The distorted voice was cold, and you could feel Dib almost shrink next to you.

"Listen, I can explain-"

"I thought we stressed secrecy, and the fact that you are not allowed to have outsiders sit in on our important meetings."

"Meeting?" All of a sudden, several of the other monitors sparked to life, various other silhouettes coming into view. Just in one glance, you could see that Dib wanted nothing more than to fade away into a cloud of space dust in that moment. You stayed silent, knowing that Dib was in some serious trouble because of you.

"We had a meeting at 8:30 pm sharp, Mothman. You knew this. And you had a friend over?" Dib's face, already pale, turned even more so. Any lighter, and you thought for sure he'd become a ghost on the spot.

"I am so sorry, I had a school project, and he's my partner, I lost track of time." He looked absolutely helpless, and without a word, you stood up and gathered the poster supplies. Snapping back to his senses, he turned to you and began shoving you out of his room and herding you to the front door.

"Dib, I-"

"You really need to go!" There were no other words said between the two of you as he quite literally slammed the door in your face. A sigh slipped past your lips as you clutched your project items in your arms, dragging your feet across the pavement on your walk home. You lazily stumbled through your front door, mumbling a greeting to your parent(s) as you headed to your room, gearing yourself up to finish the project before morning.

"Thank you to Y/n and Dib for their, erm, informative...presentation on Area 51. That was your last one, so enjoy your last five or so minutes of class." Your teacher went back to their desk as you and Dib retreated to your own table. You hadn't talked much since the incident last night, and quite frankly, you were tired from spending hours of your night creating the visual portion of your project. Dib's lips were tightly pressed together in a thin line, and you guessed there was something he wanted to get off his chest.

"Look, Dib. If there's something you want to say to me, just do it. I'm sorry for answering your call, that was not a good move on my part, and I also apologize for getting you in trouble with your, uh...society." Running a hand through his dark hair, Dib shook his head.

"No, that was my bad. I forgot I had a meeting. I'm also really sorry for kicking you out and then forcing you to finish the project on your own." Your expression softened, unable to resist forgiving him.

"Yeah, that was kind of a dick move." You elbowed him jokingly, hoping he would loosen up now that bygones were bygones.

"No, seriously. How can I make it up to you?" He looked as if he wouldn't be taking no for an answer. He had gotten a taste of what having someone who genuinely enjoyed being around him was like, and he wasn't willing to let that go. A sly grin tugged at your lips, and almost immediately an idea came to mind.

"Consider yourself forgiven if you take me ghost hunting, or whatever it is you do." His shoulders tensed, but relaxed when he realized you weren't making fun of him.

"Well, you're in luck. I just received a case file investigation last night on a bigfoot lead. I'll pick you up at eight, if that works?" His words were cautious, almost as if he still believed you were phishing.

"It's a date!" You cheered happily, already excited about getting to spend more time with him. A faint blush dusted his cheeks at your wordage.

"Of-Of course." He stammered out, grateful for the bell that rang not even a second after.

"See you tonight, Dib!" You waved as you made your way home, wanting eight to come as fast as possible.

"He knows the project is over, right?" Torque Smacky raised an eyebrow, questioning Dib and wondering why someone as cool as you would be hanging around with a guy like Dib by choice.

The doorbell rang, and you sprang up from where you sat on the couch, overjoyed to head out. Practically throwing open the door revealed Dib in all of his trench coat glory, albeit a bit nervous looking and sweaty.

"Alright Mr. Mothman, where are we going?" You grabbed onto his arm, eventually linking it with your own. He cringed at the nickname, but resisted nothing else.

"To the park. Apparently, some woman saw bigfoot there the other night. Also, fun fact, I saw bigfoot in my garage one time. He was using the belt sander." Your eyes widened, and you immediately realized why everyone called him crazy. You took it upon yourself to believe him. He obviously believed in himself, so why shouldn't you?

"Interesting. You see any other spooks in your time here?" He shrugged as you walked.

"I mean, I think a few ghosts and, well, aliens of course, but we've been over that. Also, I have vague memories of being abducted by aliens as a kid. I think they were trying to experiment on me to create some sort of genius super baby or something." You couldn't help the laughter that tumbled from your mouth. It wasn't necessarily laughing at him, more so that you weren't sure how else to respond. You didn't want to put him down, but at the same time, his story was very out there. And although you weren't 100% on board with the whole supernatural thing, you believed in him and his words. If that was his truth, you would stand by it. "You ever see anything supernatural?" You pointed a finger to yourself, as if to ask, 'me?'.

"Well, I mean...I did live in West Virginia for a while when I was younger...a lot younger. And then we moved around a lot." Your eyes instinctively narrowed as you tried to recall those times with you and your neighborhood friends. "And, you know, Mothman was like the local legend. He's basically a celebrity down there."

"No way! Did you actually, like, see him?" If you didn't already have it, you sure had his full attention now.

"No. I believed in him for a while, but we never saw him, and as I got older and distanced myself from there, I just kind of figured it was bullshit. My friends and I, we would go out at night trying to hunt for him with flashlights and stuff. Sometimes we'd bring lamps onto the porch and plug them in, building little 'Welcome, Mothman' forts to sleep in." You chuckled, remembering how much you had believed in all the spookies and specters as a child.

"That's adorable." Dib's lips were parted in a smile as he continued to lead you deeper into the park. You weren't sure when you had actually gotten there, but you weren't really paying much attention.

"Well, maybe we could do that together some time. I know Mothman isn't really big in this part of the country, but who knows. Maybe he'll come." Softly bumping Dib in the side, you were pleased to see his smile only grow.

"I'd like that." The nice moment was interrupted by rustling of the trees, and Dib turned on his flashlight, pointing it to the treetops. "There!"

"I thought bigfoot was more on the ground!" You called as you raced after him. You both came to a grinding halt, your feet skidding in the grass to try and avoid ramming straight into Dib's back. The boy you were with aggressively pointed his flashlight into the tree, resulting in a loud hiss from whatever was up there. "Maybe it's just a cat, Dib!" You tried to pull him away, not really liking how riled up he was at the moment.

"Zim! What are you doing here?! What evil things are you planning?"

"Zim?" You looked upwards, following the beam of the flashlight. Sure enough, there was a green body hunched in a tree branch, a robot of some sort next to him.

"None of your business, Dib-stink!" Zim spat, turning to face your friend. It was then you got a good look at his face. It wasn't the slightly abnormal one you were used to seeing every day. His eyes were red and buglike, sleek, black antennae sprouting from his head.

"Holy shit, Dib. You're not crazy." You flicked your flashlight on as well, aiming it at who you thought was your classmate. "He really is an alien!" A strangled cry came from the alien sitting atop the tree branch.

"GIR! Do something!"

"Yes, master!" The once cheerful-looking robot suddenly turned much more serious, dropping down from the branch to where the two of you were standing. You yelped, unsure of what this thing was capable of.

"Relax, his robot is pretty much usele-" Dib began, but his sentence came to an abrupt end when several missals and other weapons emerged from his head.

"How do you like GIR's new adjustments, Dib? I finally got his behavioral chip fixed to where he's responsive, but not too serious." Zim smirked, and with the point of one of his clawed fingers, his robot was on the two of you.

Simultaneously, both of you let out a scream, reaching desperately for each other's hands as you ran for your lives back to Dib's place. Your feet pounded the pavement, lungs feeling as if someone was raking knives down your throat and organs, yet despite all that, you both refused to look back. Only when you were on his porch did you feel comfortable sneaking a glace behind you, only to find an empty street lit up by streetlights. Breathing heavily, the two of you leaned on each other for support. Dib looked very worse for wear. He didn't seem to be too athletically inclined.

"I think...we lost him..." You spoke between gasps for air, grinning all the while. He nodded vigorously, still wheezing. After the two of you had regained your breath, you both managed to catch each other's gaze. You felt every portion of your brain that was in charge of thinking shut down as you leaned in closer to him. You were barely even aware of what you were doing as you pressed your lips to his. His eyes looked as if they were about to burst from his skull, but after a moment, they eased shut as he relaxed into the kiss. You pulled away, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, almost as if your face was on fire. Your stomach was tied in too many knots to even look at Dib, but if you had, you would have seen that he wasn't fairing much better. In fact, he was probably in worse condition. "Thanks for the night of fun, Agent Mothman."

"Uh-huh." He mumbled out, and his brain looked miles away. You decided just to go home before you did or said anything else that could be classified as stupid. As you power-walked away, Dib's hand found its way to his lips, where the feeling and warmth of your own still lingered.

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