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thewidowsghost · 3 years

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Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1

So, I started this on my Wattpad, and if figured I'd just put it on here! Just tell me if you want me to add you to the taglist!

Percy's POV

My name is Percy Jackson.

I am twelve years old. I'm a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York, and my sister, (Y/n), taking online schooling at home.

Am I a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan—twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know—it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course, I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind-the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that...Well, you get the idea.

On this trip, I was determined to be good.

All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwiches that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumble.

Grover tries to calm me down. "I'm okay. I like peanut butter -" He dodges another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it." I start to get up, but Grover pulls me back to my seat.

"You're already on probation," he reminds me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Mr. Brunner leads the museum tour.

He rides up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blows my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathers us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and starts telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperone, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Mr. Brunner keeps talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickers something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turn around and say, "Will you shut up?"

It comes out louder than I meant it to.

The whole group laughs. Mr. Brunner stops his story. "Mr. Jackson," he says, "did you have a comment?"

My face is totally red, I think. I answer, "No, sir."

Mr. Brunner points to one of the pictures on the stele. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I look at the carving, and feel a flush of relief, because I actually recognize it. "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner says, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because..."

"Well..." I rack my brain to remember. (Y/n) would have known the answer. She was nuts for this kind of stuff. "Kronos was the king god, and —"

"God?" Mr. Brunner asks.

"Titan," I correct myself. "And...he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters—"

"Eeew!" says one of the girls behind me.

"—and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continue, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbles to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner says, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover mutters.

"Shut up," Nancy hisses, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears.

I think about his question, and shrug. "I don't know, sir."

"I see." Mr. Brunner looks disappointed. "Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifts off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doofuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I knew that was coming.

I tell Grover to keep going; then I turn toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?" Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go—intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. "You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner tells me.

"About the Titans?"

'"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh."

"What you learn from me," he says, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

I mean, sure, it was kind of cool on tournament days, when he dressed up in a suit of Roman armor and shouted: "What ho!" and challenged us, swordpoint against chalk, to run to the board and name every Greek and Roman person who had ever lived, and their mother, and what god they worshipped. But Mr. Brunner expected me to be as good as everybody else, despite the fact that I have dyslexia and attention deficit disorder and I had never made above a C– in my life. No—he didn't expect me to be as good; he expected me to be better. And I just couldn't learn all those names and facts, much less spell them correctly.

I mumble something about trying harder, while Mr. Brunner takes one long sad look at the stele, like he'd been at this girl's funeral.

He tells me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathers on the front steps of the museum, where we can watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm is brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figure maybe it was global warming or something, because the weather all across New York state had been weird since Christmas. We'd had massive snow storms, flooding, wildfires from lightning strikes. I wouldn't have been surprised if this was a hurricane blowing in.

Nobody else seems to notice, though. Some of the guys are pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit is trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds isn't seeing a thing.

Grover and I sit on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school—the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner. I just wish he'd lay off me sometimes. I mean—I'm not a genius, not like (Y/n). She seems to know everything."

Grover doesn't say anything for a while. Then, when I think he is going to give me some deep philosophical comment to make me feel better, he asks, "Can I have your apple?"

I don't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it.

I watch the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and think about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sit. I hadn't seen her or my sister since Christmas. I want so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. Mom and (Y/n) would hug me and be glad to see me, but Mom would be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I couldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized café table.

I am about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appears in front of me with her ugly friends—I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists—and dumps her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grins at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles are orange, as if somebody had spray-painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I try to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I am so mad my mind went blank. A wave roars in my ears.

I don't remember touching her, but the next thing I knew, Nancy is sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see—"

"—the water—"

"—like it grabbed her—"

I don't know what they were talking about. All I know is that I was in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds is sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turns on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey—"

"I know," I grumble. "A month erasing workbooks." That wasn't the right thing to say.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds says.

"Wait!" Grover yelps. "It was me. I pushed her."

I stare at him, stunned. I can't believe he was trying to cover for me. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

She glares at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she says.

"But—"

"You—will—stay—here."

Grover looks at me desperately.

"It's okay, man," I tell him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barks at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirks. I give her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turn to face Mrs. Dodds, but she isn't there. She is standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast?

I have moments like that a lot, when my brain falls asleep or something, and the next thing I know I've missed something, as if a puzzle piece fell out of the universe and left me staring at the blank place behind it. The school counselor told me this was part of the ADHD, my brain misinterpreting things.

I wasn't so sure. I go after Mrs. Dodds.

Halfway up the steps, I glance back at Grover. He is looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner is absorbed in his novel.

I look back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She is now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

Okay, I think. She's going to make me buy a new shirt for Nancy at the gift shop.

But apparently, that wasn't the plan.

I follow her deeper into the museum. When I finally catch up to her, we are back in the Greek and Roman section.

Except for us, the gallery is empty.

Mrs. Dodds stands with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She is making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

Even without the noise, I would've been nervous. It's weird being alone with a teacher, especially Mrs. Dodds. Something about the way she looked at the frieze as if she wanted to pulverize it...

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she says.

I do the safe thing. I reply, "Yes, ma'am."

She tugs on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes is beyond mad. It was evil.

She's a teacher, I thought nervously. It's not like she's going to hurt me. I say, "I'll—I'll try harder, ma'am."

Thunder shakes the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she's talking about.

All I can think of was that the teachers must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. Or maybe they'd realized I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the Internet without ever reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.

"Well?" she demands.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hisses.

Then the weirdest thing happens. Her eyes begin to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretch, turning into talons. Her jacket melts into large, leathery wings. She isn't human. She is a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Then things got even stranger.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheels his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouts and tosses the pen through the air.

Mrs. Dodds lunges at me.

With a yelp, I dodge and feel talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatch the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hits my hand, it isn;t a pen anymore. It is a sword—Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always uses on tournament day.

Mrs. Dodds spins towards me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My knees are jelly. My hands are shaking so bad I almost drop the sword.

She snarl, "Die, honey!" And she flies straight at me.

Absolute terror runs through my body. I did the only thing that came naturally: I swing the sword.

The metal blade hits her shoulder and passes clean through her body as if she was made of water. Hisss!

Mrs. Dodds was a sandcastle in a power fan. She explodes into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes are still watching me.

I'm alone.

There is a ballpoint pen in my hand.

Mr. Brunner isn't there. Nobody is there but me.

My hands are still trembling. My lunch must've been contaminated with magic mushrooms or something.

Had I imagined the whole thing?

I walk back outside.

It had started to rain.

Grover is sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit is still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she sees me, she says, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I answer, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blink. We don't have a teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I ask Nancy what she is talking about.

She just rolls her eyes and turns away.

I ask Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

"Who?" he asks, but he pauses first and he wouldn't look at me, so I figure he was messing with me.

"Not funny, man," I tell him. "This is serious."

Thunder booms overhead.

I see Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book as if he'd never moved.

I go over to him.

He looks up, a little distracted. "Ah, that would be my pen. Please bring your own writing utensil in the future, Mr. Jackson."

I had Mr. Brunner his pen. I hadn't even realized I was still holding it.

"Sir," I ask, "where's Mrs. Dodds?"

He stares blankly at me, "Who?"

"The other chaperone. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowns and sits forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

Word Count: 3159 words

So yeah, this is the first chapter of this book.

Not much (Y/n) yet, but we'll get there.

Love y'all! Kaitlynn ❤️😍

#percy jackson x sister reader #sally jackson x daugther reader #demigod reader #fem reader #reader insert #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the lightning thief reader insert #percy jackson and the battle of the labyrinth #percy jackson and the titans curse #percy jackson and the lightning thief #percy jackson and the greek gods #percy jackson and the sea of monsters #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians reader insert

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becausethathappens · 3 years

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i love the way you write. can you tell me something nice to calm my nerves? my day has been awful and the way you write takes me out of it, instantly. *currently rereading everything you've written on ao3 ignore the kudos that might give this away 👀*

anonnnnnnnnn. 🤚💓

something nice: rhett and link have been together longer than i’ve been alive. (i’m more than three decades old. 😩)

and something short for you, because this made me blush:

-———————-

needs no conversation

1k - Rhett and Link duet for the first time.

songs referenced: yesterday’s wine / islands in the stream

Over a year passes after Rhett's voice dropped before he starts using it as regularly as he used to. More than once, trying to sing along to whatever's on the radio and having his voice crack and squeak has led to teasing from friends and family alike. He's gun-shy to hold a tune until he's sure the baritone that his register has changed to is permanent.

Poor Link's voice has only gotten higher, since around the same time, but the elasticity and charm of it suits his personality.

It's years into being grumpy, monosyllabic teenagers before they feel happy enough to sing aloud, let alone together.

One night, while they’re stuffed with pizza and sketching tree forts (they're sick of lugging all their things to the river, every time they swim and want a place to store belongings in the woods, closer by), Rhett finds himself singing along to Yesterday's Wine with a full-throated joy that makes Link's insides swirl. It's certainly the most he's used his voice, confidently, since it's settled on this octave.

Rhett's voice sounds good. Objectively good and better than it's maybe ever sounded.

Link, shyly, joins in because he's sure the longer he sits and listens, it'll become a problem for his head or his heart or both. It unsettles him.

He's not more than three seconds into the chorus, singing along with George Jones' section, when he notices that Rhett's set aside his writing instruments, as well, and is looking over at him.

In near the same way that Link was looking at him.

It's then, right that second, Link hears it.

The natural harmony they've stumbled across.

The song's over too soon.

With busy eyes and unsteady hands, Link scrambles over to the tape deck to switch out to another song. The next up was a solo b-side from Merle's early work that won’t showcase what he’s just heard.

He picks the first tape with a duet he can find.

Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers.

It's just to prove a theory, the song choice. Selected because Link knows it has two distinct singers. Not much thought going into it beyond that.

He pops the tape into the player and hits play. He feigns looking down at his drawings for a moment, like he's merely changing the background music and returning to them.

But after a few seconds, he can't withhold his interest and looks up.

Rhett's still staring right at him.

And he doesn’t seem to have stopped this whole time.

As the music fades in softly, his eyes are soft and doe-y.

To Link’s surprise, he starts to sing, clearly begging Link, wordlessly, to do the same in the next verse.

"Baby, when I met you there was peace unknown I set out to get you with a fine tooth comb," Rhett begins.

Link stares at him, takes it in. He lets his ears adjust and come to grips with the fact that Rhett's voice really sounds that smooth and adult, overpowering Kenny's easily in the quiet room with the volume purposefully low.

They both know the lyrics.

"I was soft inside There was something going on," Rhett sings.

Link’s smile breaks wide, an outburst of shocked elation that Rhett sound only improves. He really sounds this good. Professionally good.

An idea bubbles into his mind, one he'd never dare to think if not so immersed in the candied daydream of hearing his friend's beautiful voice echo around the small bedroom for what feels like the first time. He's picturing Rhett singing this for an audience, his unused hand holding a microphone, as Link watches Rhett drum a steady one-two rhythm along with the beat into his thigh.

Link does the same and then immediately jumps in on the first harmony.

"You do something to me that I can't explain Hold me closer and I feel no pain Every beat of my heart We got something going on," they sing together.

Link's eyes dart back and forth, feeling zapped by the electricity of how their voices sound paired together.

It’s not just Rhett.

He takes in that, to his ears, his voice sounds much deeper than it has in years. When he sings with Rhett, trying to match the key change, it feels like Rhett is sharing some of his baritone. His own lifts up, as though to meet Link halfway.

Their words tumble out over each other in a kind of velvety sophistication that makes Link picture them both on a stage performing. It makes Link's heart leap, how natural it would seem, were it to be like this.

"Tender love is blind It requires a dedication," Rhett belts out, getting into it.

Link grins and nods. They could lead the choir at church.

They both sing, "All this love we feel needs no conversation We ride it together, ah ha."

Rhett wiggles back and forth to the beat, Link joins in.

"Making love with each other, ah ha," they sing, blushing.

Rhett laughs, inaudibly, in respect to the music, at how silly that line sounds, when sung by the two of them.

"Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between How can we be wrong Sail away with me To another world And we rely on each other, ah ha From one lover to another, ah ha," they harmonize.

Link's eyes shine. They could start a band.

Link sings, "I can't live without you if the love was gone Everything is nothing if you got no one And you did walk in the night Slowly losing sight of the real thing."

Rhett's eyes are also shining back. Link is already sure that he'll agree to the idea. He hardly ever says no, in Link's experience.

They sing, "But that won't happen to us and we got no doubt Too deep in love and we got no way out And the message is clear This could be the year for the real thing."

He pictures their names on a marquee.

Link closes his eyes and sings, "No more will you cry Baby, I will hurt you never."

He imagines their album cover, posed like Lionel or Merle.

Rhett joins him, "We start and end as one In love forever We can ride it together, ah ha Making love with each other, ah ha."

Link nods along, lost in fantasy.

"Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between How can we be wrong Sail away with me To another world And we rely on each other, ah ha From one lover to another, ah ha," they recite in tandem.

Link opens his eyes again and is struck by the fact that Rhett's eyes are also open or have still never closed.

Once again the ZING of amazement bolts through him at how strongly the affection and pride on Rhett's face beams at him.

They sing, "Sail away Oh come sail away with me."

The chorus repeats twice, both of them staring like that the whole time, and Link fights the urge to reach out and join their hands as if in prayer. He's seen duets do that before, like Sonny and Cher. He understands the impulse, now. He wants nothing more than to chase this connected, harmonious feeling, now and perhaps the rest of his life.

Entertain himself and others, alongside Rhett.

As the song finishes, they sing, "Islands in the stream That is what we are No one in between."

This is their ticket out.

A solo track ticks on next and the spell is somewhat broken.

Link leans back and laughs, covering his mouth with both palms at once.

Rhett settles, blushing, and hides his mouth with the back of his right hand. It also masks the smile growing fast at Link’s reaction.

It feels like they've just discovered a secret too great for them to know.

"That was so good," Link tells him, honest.

"I 's just thinkin' that," Rhett agrees, chuckling. "Don't think I've ever been able to hold an melody like that. You hit the high notes dead-on."

"And that was some professional-grade crooning," Link assures him.

"Oh, don't know about that," Rhett dismisses.

"No, I'm serious. We should start a band," Link says, earnestly.

Rhett watches him for a few seconds, trying to judge whether or not he's serious. When he sees no hesitation, finally, he smirks.

"Okay," Rhett agrees, looking thrilled.

Link grins back at him.

"It's like it was written about us, too. We've got an island in a stream. If you could count the river as one. How’s that for song choice?" Link asks, playfully.

Rhett frowns. "That's... not what the song - it's about - " Rhett looks at Link funny, then continues, "It's not about that. D'you even listen to the lyrics?"

"No," Link answers, easy and truthful.

"You really wanna start a band with me?” Rhett’s eyes fall and he scratches the back of his head. “If you got distracted while I was singing?"

"Rhett, I got distracted by your singing," Link explains.

Rhett looks down. "Oh."

There's a long pause.

"Well, I got distracted by you, too."

Link's eyes widen.

"By your singing," Rhett adds, hastily.

Link rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Unsure how else Rhett would've expected him to take that.

The blush that warms his chest also brings with it a smile.

He rewinds the tape so they can begin again.

#things i wrote #sharing music is intimate #i love you @anon #i have a WIP that i need to finish #and other things #but i'm in my feelings about them today #🥺️#rhink fic #fluff

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the-lady-of-stars · 4 years

Text

In Another Life

Fives x Jedi ! Reader

Requested by: @marvel-starwars-nerd and an anon (I combined your prompts, hope thats okay!) “I don’t want this to end” and “Whatever you do don’t cry, because if you cry I’ll start crying too”

A/N: Sorry in advance, troopers.

A traitor to the Republic. That’s what they’d called him. They had said that Fives was conspiring against them, accusing the Kaminoans of planting chips in the clones’ brains to control them.

The chip, which Fives had broken protocol to remove from Tup, was called an ‘inhibitor chip’ by the Kaminoans. Something to keep them from adopting Fett’s strong will and violence. Fives insisted otherwise, leading you to this very moment on the lower levels of Coruscant.

With Anakin and Rex by your side you slowly edged into the darkened warehouse, calling out for Fives as you went. The lightsaber ignited in your hands was merely standard protocol. You knew that Fives would never hurt you, but the Republic branding him as a dangerous individual meant you had to keep up the act. The excuse of Fives being your boyfriend wasn’t exactly something that could be put on the reports.

The deeper you went into the building, the more you could sense him. The force signiature coming off of Fives was something you would normally bask in and draw peace from, but not today. He radiated nothing but fear, anger and mistrust, still not showing himself to you and your companions. The boys all knew about the relationship between you and Fives. He wasn’t quite the most secretive man in the galaxy, and had the tendency to brag.

Anakin, clearly sensing the pure worry and unease radiating from you, sent you a reasurring look, although it never met his eyes.

“Fives,” you called out, trying to pinpoint his location. “It’s okay, we’re not here to hurt you. Just come out, everything will be okay.”

“Thank you, thank you for trusting me,” Fives’ voice echoed through the crate-filled warehouse, making it hard to figure out where it had come from. The three of you span slowly, trying to catch a glimpse of the rogue trooper. His voice was shaky, the notes wavering in his throat. “Have you come without troops?” He insisted, too nervous to keep his fear hidden.

“We have,” Anakin reassured, voice steady so as not to startle Fives.

“Put down your weapons then!” Fives sounded frantic, like a loth cat cornered by hungry varactyls. You felt your heart twist at the notion that your own boyfriend felt the need to defend himself against you, his brother and his friend.

Anakin, casting aside emotion to stick to military protocol, denied Fives’ request, still slightly on edge about his accusations about the Jedi and the chips.

“Please sir, please- I’m unarmed,” Fives pleaded. You turned to find Rex and Anakin both with expressions of sorrow that matched your own.

With a nod, Anakin sheathed his saber, and Rex set his pistols down on a nearby crate. You copied them, attaching your saber to its hilt at your belt.

“What are we here for, Fives?” Anakin pressed, knowing that every moment they wasted was a moment the Coruscant Guard gained on them, and he knew they wouldn’t be as willing to accomodate.

“I need your help,” he called, desperation thick in his words.

Anakin reassured the trooper that he was here to help, telling Fives that he understood he ‘wasn’t well.’ Clearly, this was the wrong thing to say, as Fives suddenly became upset, voice raising.

“I’m not crazy! Please- just hear what I have to say,” he begged, voice growing clearer, allowing you to pinpoint him behind two stacks of crates.

With one last shared look, the three of you drew closer to Fives’ location. Before you could reach him, Fives entrapped you all in a ray shield, then finally emerged once he knew you couldn’t harm him.

Anakin, knowing this wouldn’t do Fives any good once the Coruscant Guard arrived, slammed his fist against the shield in anger. He already knew how low the chances were for his friend, the Kaminoans were fond of reconditioning for even the slightest misbehaviour, but this would only serve to make things ten times worse.

“I just need you to listen to me,” Fives reassured, raising his empty hands to show that he meant no harm. “Please!” he cried out.

“I’m not really sure we have any other choice!” Anakin snapped, worry for Fives turning into anger due to his lack of control in the situation.

Fives’ voice broke, almost whimpering as he yelled “I was framed- because I know the truth! The truth about a plot- a massive deception!”

Fives’ body was shaking, arms restless as he panicked, pacing fearfully, clutching his head and tensing his fists. He looked wildly overwhelmed, almost in pain at how he couldn’t get anyone to believe him.

“There’s a sinister plot,” he shouted, “in the works, against the Jedi! I have proof of it! I can prove- that everything that I know is true beyond a shadow of a doubt!”

“Fives, please-” you tried to speak calmly but you were nearly in tears over seeing your Fives like this, your voice trembling. His eyes raced from side to side, peeled wide in terror, desperation in every breath he took.

Anakin interrupted you, voice stern. “Show me the evidence.”

Fives dug his fingers back into his head, as though he were trying to rip the thoughts out of his brain. Pink marks crowned his head from the way he was scratching into it.

“The evidence- it’s- it’s in here-” Fives pointed aggressively at his brain, fully aware that the Kaminoans had injected him with something to make him lose his memories before he could speak to the Chancellor. His eyes held nothing but devastation, gleaming with unshed tears and pain. “It’s in all of us!” he recalled, desperately trying to explain, “every clone!”

“What is it?” Rex pushed, trying to extract clear words from his brother.

“Organic chips- built into our genetic code,” Fives said, defeat swallowing up his voice. He leaned exhausted to rest on a stack of crates, pressing his arm and forehead against them. “To make us do whatever someone wants.” Fives felt powerless in that moment. The Republic had always made him feel like a pawn, but this was the first time Fives truly understood what his older brothers meant when they spoke about being nothing but property. What difference could one clone make, especially one who had the entire coruscant guard and a Jedi on the hunt for him. “Even kill the Jedi. It’s all in here-” he repeated in a frenzy, poking his head again and again.

Anakin scowled, not believing Fives’ words. You turned to look at Rex, seeing how upset he looked. He ran his hand over his hair in stress, sending you a dejected look when he caught your gaze.

“Let’s just get you some help first then we can review everything,” Anakin spoke, trying to deescalate the situation. “It’ll be okay, Fives, we’ll sort this out.” Anakin said the words as though nothing major were happening, as if everything was fine.

Fives finally reached his limit, feeling shattered at the lack of understanding.

“You don’t believe me!” he howled.

“Fives,” Rex tried to soothe him, brotherly instinct overwhelming him. “We are listening to you. We only want to help.”

“How do I know you’re not tricking me?” Fives asked rapidly. “How do I know it won’t be a trap?”

You couldn’t stand back and listen any more.

“Fives, please, look at me. You know for a fact that not one of us would lay a finger on you. We all care about you Fives, and we want to hear everything you have to say. I mean it. We’ll listen,” you pleaded with him, pressing one hand up against the ray shield.

Fives shakily stumbled forward, lifting a trembling hand to press it against where yours lay on the other side of the shield. He looked deep into your eyes, the look he gave you making you want to sweep him away and hold him for the rest of your life. You wished more than anything that you could take him away from all of this. Why did it have to be your Fives getting caught up in this mess. If only you could take him to some outer-rim planet where you would never be found, and soothe all of his worries with tender kisses and soft spoken words.

----------------------------

“Princess?”

“Yeah, Fives?”

“You ever thought about after the war?”

“What about it?”

You lay secure on Fives’ chest in your bed, resting your eyes as he swept patterns into the skin of your back.

“What you’d like life to be like, I mean. Like, I d’uno, a family maybe?”

Maybe you were just tired, but you were sure you could detect a hint of hopefulness in his words.

“A family, huh? Yeah, I s’pose have. Is that something you’d like?”

“Y-yeah,” Fives felt himself flush. Get it together, trooper. “W-with you, I mean. Maybe a kid or two if you want. We could have a little house out on Naboo. It could be in the countryside. We could go swimming in the waterfalls. I’m sure General Skywalker could set us up with a place. Get- get married maybe?” Fives subtly wiped his sweaty palms on the sheets, hoping you wouldn’t notice how nervous the proposition made him.

“I’d like that.”

He let out a sigh.

“I’d like that a lot.”

If you had secretly been awake when Fives had whispered “gn’a make you my wife,” he didn’t need to find out.

----------------------------

Fives gasped, thinking about what would happen if the clones were ordered to take out the Jedi. Even the brief thought of him mindlessly shooting you caused him to jolt back. He began to explain how he thought everything linked back to the Chancellor, how every part of his intuition told him to believe it.

“He’s capable of it, I swear to you, General,” he tried to reason with Anakin, but before he could get another word in the Coruscant Guard leapt out from behind some crates, pointing their blasters at Fives.

Calls of “stand down, trooper” and “get on your knees” rang through the building. You watched in horror as Fives turned his gaze to Rex’s abandoned pistols.

“Fives, no- stop!” you screamed, but it was too late.

He lunged for the pistols, clutching one with a yell of “get away from me!”

Then silence, deafening silence. Your vision turned to slow-motion as Commander Fox fired a shot square into Fives’ chest. You felt a cry escape your throat but never heard it, feeling like you were about to faint.

Fives collapsed, hitting the ground in a position which allowed you to see the large short-range blaster shot staining the pure white duraplast of his armour. Rex beat his hands against the barrier, desperatley trying to break through to hold his brother. The second a member of the Guard shot the shield down you fell to your knees at his side, Rex at your side.

“Fives,” you sobbed, tears flowing freely. You reached over to cup his cheek, bringing his gaze to look at you. Fives was dazed, feeling the life force drain from him as he bled out on the duracrete floor. The blood loss began to make him dizzy, his thoughts no longer focused on the conspiracy, turning to you instead. You were crying. His girl was crying and he wasn’t doing anything about it. He’d always hated seeing you cry.

------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Princess, I’m hom- woah, woah, woah-” Fives froze, startled by the image of you curled up in a ball on the floor leaning against your bed while crying your eyes out. He immediately ran over, sliding to his knees by your side. “Hey, what’s the matter?” he cooed, reaching to pull your hands from your eyes. He felt his heart tighten at the sight of your reddened eyes, the tears clinging to your eyelashes. “Oh, shhh,” he soothed, bringing you into his chest as you sobbed wildly. Fives sat and rocked you gently in his arms until your sobs slowed into hiccups and gasps, murmuring sweet nothings tenderly into your ear.

“Feelin’ better?” he spoke softly, punctuating his question with a kiss to your cheek.

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, leaning into his touch as he wiped away your tears.

“That’s my girl. You’re okay, Princess. I’ve got you. I’ll always take care of you I swear. Now, make a promise for me?”

You hummed in agreement, waiting for him to state his promise.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t cry alone ever again. Next time you need to cry, come find me or send me a quick comm and I swear I’ll be right there to hold you. Promise?”

You smiled lovingly, “promise.”

“Thas’ my girl.”

-------------------------------------------------

“H-hey- hey, don’t you go crying on me now, pretty thing. ‘Cos if you cry I’ll start cryin’, you hear me?”

This only made you weep harder, clutching at his shoulder.

“Fives, no, no- don’t do this. Don’t. You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be fine. I’m here, Rex is here, we’ve got you,” your voice shook heavily as you barely managed to get the words out between choked sobs.

Fives chuckled after a gasp, shooting a beaming smile in your direction.

“C’mon, you’re a clever girl. You and I both know this is the end of the line for me. I’m not gonna be here too much longer, Princess, but you remember that promise you made me, yeah? When I’m gone, you’re not gonna spend your time cryin’ over me. You’re gonna go find a friend, someone you trust, and cry it out with them so they can look after you. Okay?”

You burst into tears again, unable to respond to him.

“I’ll look after her, vod. I swear it, you have my word. We’ll look after eachother,” Rex choked, tears flowing down his face. He reached over and grasped his brother’s hand tightly, squeezing it in reassurance.

Fives smiled, a look of peace overcoming him at the thought of his girl and his brother looking out for eachother when he wasn’t there to do it himself.

“Thas’ good. Mmm. Good.” Fives blinked, finding the idea of sinking into the darkness more and more tempting every second.

“Fives, no, don’t go. Please- I don’t want this to end. I love you, I love you so much Fives, please don’t leave me!”

Fives mustered up all the energy he had left to grin at you, the cheeky grin that showed off his teeth he’d always give you when he’d make fun of you.

“I love you too, Princess. I always will. I’m sorry I have to go, but I promise I’ll see you again some day. Even in another life, I’ll find you. You’ll always be my girl.”

And with that, Fives slipped away, succumbing to the peace that was sinking into his heart. He’d find you again. In another life.

#fives x reader #arc trooper fives x reader #clone wars imagine #star wars imagine #star wars x reader

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trentaafcsblog · 4 years

Note

3 with sancho

Prompts - Boy Things

3. Catching him liking another girl’s post

You both had the habit of side-eyeing the other person whenever they were on their phone, trying to get a glimpse at whatever’s on the screen just to make sure that they weren’t doing something that they shouldn’t. And you both know it’s stupid considering you trust the other person with your whole heart, but sometimes you just need the reassurance that they’re watching penguin videos on TikTok, or learning how to make the perfect macaroni cheese on YouTube, instead of stalking someone else’s Instagram account. But sometimes you do get caught out for letting your eyes wander a bit too far down someone’s timeline whilst you do everything you can to stop yourself zooming in on the bulge in their trousers or their nipples that are slightly visible through their tight-fitting top, and this happened to be Jadon’s day.

“You okay?” you ask as you sit at the opposite end of the sofa, immediately clocking that he was on a part of Instagram that he probably shouldn’t be on when his girlfriend was in the same room.

“I’m fantastic” he smiles as he looks up at you for a split second before his eyes are being dragged back down to his phone screen. Of course he’s fantastic - he’s literally in heaven. Tits, asses, teeny weeny little bikinis everywhere.

You can’t help yourself as you sit up as straight as possible so that you can get the best view of his phone, not that you particularly want to see who your man’s drooling over, but you just have to make sure that he doesn’t do the forbidden *tap tap* on one of their posts. Your eyes burning into the side of his head as you flick your attention between his face and the array of girls on his phone, double checking that he’s not smiling at any of them or letting beads of saliva trickle out of the corner of his mouth. And then your gaze is being drawn to his thumb that is now hovering over a photo of a random girl about to step into a swimming pool. Her orange thong bottoms just about visible as she flicks her hair over her shoulder and gives the camera her best pout. Shaking your head as if to say ‘surely not’ when his thumb starts to lower itself down towards the screen. Surely he couldn’t do this. Not when he doesn’t even know her. Not when it’s one of the most revealing photos on the internet. Not when you’re sat right next to him. Surely?

But he’s doing it.

Truth be told, you can’t be mad at him because you’d probably do the same had she popped up on your feed, and it’s not like she’s one of your friends either so it’s not really a personal thing, but you’ve literally just witnessed your boyfriend almost getting a hard-on over somebody else that he’s seen on social media and you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t even just the tiniest bit annoyed by it, hence why you’re deciding to give him the silent treatment until snaps out of his daydream about the girl in the orange thong and finally realises that his actual girlfriend is in a mood.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks when you practically slam his dinner down and go and sit down at the end of the table, a place you’d never sat before because the two of you usually eat side by side or opposite each other like you’re on a date, even when you’re eating fish fingers, chips and beans and dressed in pyjamas that you’ve had for about six years, something that definitely wasn’t restaurant standard.

“Sorry, did someone say something?” you’re saying as you look around to try and find the voice, knowing true well that it came from the man at the other end of the table. Jadon dropping his fork onto the side of his plate and raising his eyebrows at you until he gains your attention.

“I asked what was wrong with you” he’s saying again as you pretend to think for a second, swallowing your mouthful of food before acting as though the thought has just come to your head.

“Maybe I should ask what’s wrong with you considering you think it’s okay to like other girls’ Instagram posts” you snap as he scoffs at you before bursting out into a fit of giggles.

“Is that seriously why you’re pissed off with me?” he’s questioning as you nod your head, poking a few pasta shapes around your plate until he decides to speak again.

“There’s no need to get jealous of someone that I don’t even know, I’ve liked more photos of you than I have her anyway and it was literally just a one off” he starts as you look up at him from across the table, “anyway, if anyone should be raising a point then it’s me cose I’ve seen you liking all of Harry Styles’ posts, every single one to be precise, and the majority of the ones on his fan accounts too” he’s telling you as you feel your cheeks starting to heat up, turning away as you try to hide your growing smile because you know you’ve been caught out.

“That’s different though” you’re saying as he raises an eyebrow and hums in response. “You don’t see me getting myself into a strop about it because I know I’ve got nothing to worry about, and you shouldn’t either because you’ve got the juiciest ass in the whole wide world and I’d much rather stare at yours than hers” he’s reassuring you as you giggle and blush at his comments. Finally pulling yourself together and scooting across the table so that you can sit in your usual seat next to him, snuggling into his side and apologising for being so jealous, but at least you now know that your ass is better than hers, making a mental note to wear an orange thong tomorrow just to prove that point.

@sanchooo-xo @alexajanecollins @domsgirl

#boy things #jadon sancho #jadon sancho blurb #jadon sancho imagine #jadon sancho smut

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jadethest0ne · 4 years

Text

In need of Refueling, Chapter 6 - Back-up

Summary: “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 1548

Ratings/Warnings: Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, Panic Attacks (this one was just added)

Notes: I'm not sure if it was clear or obvious, but I'm writing this story as if this is all the characters' first in-person encounter with The True Fire of Samadhi - including Wukong. I know many people include The Fire in his backstory, but I'm creating a kind of canon-divergent timeline for this story - both for LMK and JTTW. At the very least, I'm keeping Wukong's backstory ambiguous since we don't know much about how LMK will interpret it.

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

MK sees the fire begin to consume the Monkey King. He tries to say something to his mentor. Plead. Shout. Anything. But no words come out. His breath is knocked out of him as Monkey King does some weird motion with his arms, and suddenly MK is thrown through the air at a rapid speed. There’s a ringing in his ears and he feels wetness on his cheeks. The ringing becomes louder, until he realizes that it is his own voice yelling. Another voice breaks through the noise.

“Kid!”

Monkey King? MK thinks; hopeful.

“Kid!” the voice repeats. “MK!”

MK blinks the tears out of his eyes and sees a pink chubby snout cross his vision.

“...Pigsy?”

The noodle shop owner breathes a sigh of relief, but his face is still shadowed with deep concern. “MK! Are you okay?! What happened?!”

Mr. Tang’s bespectacled head pops into view. “We found you in a crater in front of the noodle shop. It’s a wonder you are still alive,” he says pushing his glasses up his nose, reflected light blinking off of them.

“Yeah! It was a pretty epic crash!” MK’s heart lightens a bit further, seeing his best friend, Mei join the other two.

But anxiety once again takes hold of his heart. ‘What happened?’ MK leaps out of what he now recognizes as his bed, nearly butting heads with Pigsy, who was hovering closest to him. He wobbles on his feet, head swimming slightly, having gotten up too fast. Pigsy helps steady him, and MK grasps at the pig’s shirt. “Monkey King! He-he’s in trouble! I gotta- I gotta help! He-- Red Son came! DBK has him-- I -- I think- he’s hurt! He tried to protectmeandI I- gotta- I need to go--.” The words spill out too fast. He’s not sure he’s making sense. Everything seems to spin together and it feels like his whole body is buzzing with energy. His breath hitches and he feels like he’s choking--

“Hey there, MK! Slow down. Breathe!” Mei puts both of her hands on either side of his face and gently pulls his head so only she is in view. She places her hands over his ears, filling them with a soft static sound. Her eyebrows are tilted in concern, but her smile and voice are carefree and calm. He focuses on the muffled white noise and on her.

MK takes a couple of fast, hiccupy breaths, before he begins to breathe deeper, and slowly calms down. Mei waits a few beats before taking away her hands and asking, “Can you tell us what happened, but slower this time? We’re here for you, dude!”

MK blinks a couple of times and pulls in a longer, deeper breath before nodding slightly. He wipes away the wetness under his eyes and begins.

“I- I saw Red Son. He- he was going to Flower Fruit Mountain. And he wanted to get to the Monkey King. He-- he had this weird new power. He said he wanted to defeat Monkey King and bring him to DBK.”

“Beat the Monkey King?!” Pigsy gave an incredulous look. “He couldn’t have been serious!”

MK shivers a bit at the memory. “Yeah, but he was different this time! The fire he had was blue, and was really strong. He-- I-- I got in the way, and Monkey King-- I think he got the Monkey King-- Why would he send me away like that if it weren’t serious!” MK’s breaths come quicker, but before he can start hyperventilating, Mr. Tang puts a grounding hand on his shoulder and squeezes slightly to get MK to focus on him.

MK looks to the scholar who has an unreadable expression. He asks cautiously, “Can you describe the power he had? That blue fire?”

“Um…” MK tries to focus on what it was like and not on his last view of it as it swirled around his mentor. “It-- it was blue,” he repeats. “It lit the beach - the water on fire! The Monkey King could ward it off, but not put it out.”

“What was it called? Did it have a name?” the scholar prods.

MK nods as he recalls Red Son shouting a name out loud. “The True Fire of… somebody…?”

“The True Fire of Samadhi?” Mr. Tang prompts.

MK nods more vigorously. “Yeah! That was it!”

“Hmm…” Mr. Tang puts a hand over his mouth, eyebrows knit together. “That actually may be a real problem.”

“How?” Pigsy asks. “The Monkey King’s immortal, ain’t he? And MK said he could repel it. How could fire hurt someone like dat?”

Mr. Tang sighs, lips pursed as he chooses his words carefully. “The True Fire of Samadhi is not a natural fire. Like MK said, it can’t be extinguished by normal methods. And…” He hesitates with his next words, eyes flicking over to MK and back to Pigsy. “And… it’s one of the few things that could potentially cause harm to an immortal like the Monkey King.”

The silence that follows is almost too much. Or maybe there wasn’t silence and MK had just stopped hearing. So he was right. The Monkey King was in trouble and--

“It’s my fault,” MK whispers. He can feel the other three staring at him. He forces his gaze downward. Tears build up and drip at his feet. “It’s my fault!” he says more loudly. “I let Red Son trick me into leading him there! I distracted Monkey King! I got in the way, and he- he took a hit for me! If it weren’t for me then-”

“Then Red Son would’ve found another way to get to him,” a gruff voice finishes sternly.

MK looks up to Pigsy, tears still dripping. “But- but I got in the way. If I hadn’t been there, if it hadn’t been for me-”

“Then we wouldn’t have this information to help the Monkey King now.” Pigsy again, does not let him finish that train of thought. He gives MK a determined but gentle gaze. “It is NOT your fault MK. And we ARE gonna do somethin’ about this! Together!”

“Right!” Mei chimes in, wrapping an arm lightly around MK’s upper back, not quite grasping, but letting him know it’s there. “If the Monkey King is in trouble, we’re going to help him get out of trouble!”

“Tang, you got any more info on dat fire?” Pigsy turns to the scholar.

“I’ll have to dig out some old books and scrolls, but I’m sure I do,” Mr.Tang affirms.

“Good! We can also get some back-up from Sandy.” Pigsy turns to Mei. “Mei, you stay here with MK, while we get the big guy!”

Mei nods in response.

MK’s nerves settle a bit at the support from his friends, but a pit of fear still bubbles in his stomach. “I can’t let you guys do that! What if the fire gets you, too! I have to--”

“YOU will stay here,” Pigsy points a stern finger at MK, “and wait until we get back. We’ll go together to DBK’s lair.”

MK shrinks a bit under the intense glare of his boss. But Pigsy’s face and voice soften. “We’re not gonna let you do this alone. And I am not gonna let you get hurt by that fire either. Okay?”

MK’s shoulders sag in defeat, but he nods.

“Good! Now sit here until we get back,” Pigsy says, guiding him to sit back on the bed, before leaving with Mr. Tang.

It’s difficult for MK to just stay there and sit down. His body still feels like it is buzzing. He needs to move, to do something. As he watches his two pseudo-caretakers leave, he only becomes more anxious; not only with the worry from before, but with the dread of waiting. The energy bubbles up and he squeezes the edge of his bed with enough strength to cause the wood to crack. But he pays no mind to that. The Monkey King could be in DBK’s clutches already. He needs to go. Now! Seconds before he feels as if he’s going to literally shoot out of his seat, the mattress shifts as the weight of his friend sitting next to him is lifted.

“What are you doing?” MK asks the girl.

Mei simply strolls over to the window, opens it, and puts one foot on the ledge leading out to the fire escape.

“You are obviously going to go after him on your own. So I’m coming with. Duh!” She looks at him like it’s the clearest thing in the world. Which, to be honest, it is.

“I can’t let you do that,” MK attempts, but he knows it is a losing battle.

Mei knows this, too and gives him a smirk. “Come on. Either I make sure you stay here like Pigsy says, or I’m coming with you. And since you’re going to go either way, I’m definitely not leaving your side. Ever.” Mei hardens her gaze, all the while keeping a playful smile around her lips.

MK can’t help but smile back. “All right, let’s do this.” He gets up off of the bed and joins her by the window.

“Together!” Mei holds up a hand.

MK grasps it in his own. “Together!”

They both leap out of the window.

start || <– previous // next –>

#lmk #lego monkie kid #red son #mk #in need of refueling #pigsy #tang #mei #panic attacks #jadethest0ne #jadethestone #fanfiction #my writing

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ikleesfiction · 4 years

Text

Will you follow through if I fall for you?

Fandom : One Chicago Words count : 3,679 words Author's note : N/A Disclaimer

Previously on this fic : Part 1

This fic is part of Will you follow through if I fall for you? series

Part 2

After sipping the last of his morning coffee, Will Halstead pulls out his phone to call his brother, Jay.

"Good morning, dearest brother," Will says in his greeting. "Is it a good time to talk? You're not currently kicking doors, chasing perps, are you?" He jokingly asks. It has not yet passed seven in the morning. But it is always a possibility with his cop brother.

Jay takes the call, still half asleep, "This is not a good way to wake up. Just so you know,"

"Is there any better way to wake up than listen to your brother's lovely voice?" Will continues his humor.

“Lots of things are better than this,” Jay fusses, “So, what's up? and it's better to be important,"

Will begins to tell the story, "Owen got in an incident a few days ago at the swimming pool,"

"Damn! What happened? Is he okay? Is he at the hospital now?" Jay suddenly comes awake.

"Calm down, you worrywart. Let me finish. Owen and his friends were playing, a bit careless in the pool. He almost drowned, but someone rescued him. We checked him out at Med. Owen is okay now. Said he cannot wait to go back to the pool," concludes Will.

"Oh, thank god. That kid is so reckless. I should probably teach him another swimming lesson, right?" Jay suggests to his brother.

"Maybe in a while. Nat is still not sure she can let Owen back in the pool," Will thinks.

"That's understandable. But living in Chicago, that kid should be prepared," insists Jay.

"Yeah, I agree with you. But that's not the only reason why I called, by the way," Will changes the topic. Jay knows from his tone that Will is up to something. Something that usually ends up with a volunteer-Jay.

"What do you want now?" sighs Jay.

"Nat and I invited the person who helped Owen to our place for dinner tomorrow. We want you to come," Will proposes his idea.

"Why should I?" Jay protests the idea.

"Don't you want to meet the person who saved Owen? Show them your gratitude for saving your precious nephew?" Will coaxes his stubborn brother.

"Isn't that supposed to be the parents' job? I'm just the Fun Uncle!" grumbles Jay.

"Then you should join the fun dinner with us tomorrow. Or you will get demoted!” Will threatens further.

"Ergh, okay, fine. No promises, though. If an urgent case comes up, I cannot make it to the fun dinner," Jay finally yields, even with his sarcasm.

"Noted. Please bear in mind, if you deliberately avoid our dinner invitation, your title would be demoted to Lame Uncle," Will reminds Jay.

"Even then, I'm still the coolest," Jay mutters before he hangs up the call.

Before long, Jay's phone buzzes with a text message from his brother.

Put it in your calendar, Fun Uncle. Tomorrow, 7 PM, dinner at our place.

Jay leaves the message unanswered. But he schedules it on his calendar, nonetheless. Whatever the reason is, Jay always loves to visit his sweet nephew.

◢◤

The cab stops in front of a lovely house. You open the text message from Dr. Halstead to recheck the address. Stepping out of the cab, you walk to the front door and knock.

You thought about bringing wine for dinner. But you're not sure that would be a good idea with Owen here. Instead, you have a box of chocolate as a gift to your host. For a second, you wonder, what if somebody is allergic to chocolate? Before you could overreact, the door is open.

"Hi, Y/N!! So glad you could make it. Come in, come in!" Dr. Manning greets you at the door.

"Hi, Dr. Manning. Thanks for inviting me to your house. You have a gorgeous house," You compliment your host.

"Oh, thank you. But please, call me Natalie. I am not wearing a lab coat or a scrub now,"

Further inside the house, you see Dr. Halstead is setting up the dinner table while Owen is sitting on one of the chairs.

"Hi, Y/N! Welcome!" Dr. Halstead welcomes you.

"Good evening, Dr. Halstead," You return with a smile.

"Yeah, that's not going to work for tonight. Please, just call me Will," He orders you.

"Hey bud, do you remember Miss Y/N? She helped you at the pool a few days ago?" Will asks Owen.

Owen remembers the lady from the pool. But he's still embarrassed and sullenly looks down, "I remember,"

You approach Owen slowly, "Hi Owen, my name is Y/N. Nice to see you again,"

Owen is still avoiding your gaze.

So you continue to talk to him, "Oh, here, I have a box of chocolate for you and your family," You pass the paper bag to Owen.

"I hope you like it. My best friend and I always eat chocolate when we were having a bad day. Then our day gets better," You say to Owen, attempting to make him feels better.

"Really?" Owen eyes you curiously.

"Oh yeah, totally," You beam at him.

"Thank you," Owen looks up and pleads to his mother, "Can we have it now, Mom?"

"Let's have it after dinner, hon. There is a cheesy lasagna warming in the oven, right?" Natalie tries to distract Owen from having dessert before dinner. You cringe at your not-so-great idea and mouth an apology to her. She graciously waves it off.

"Oh yeah! Miss Y/N, you must try the lasagna. It is so yummy because I helped Mom make it," brags Owen.

"I cannot wait! Is there anything I can help with for dinner?" You offer.

"No, everything is almost done. Owen, could you please show Miss Y/N where the bathroom is, so she could wash her hand?" Natalie prompts, "and then we can start eating when you come back,"

"Okay. Let's go, Miss Y/N. I could also show you my shark toothbrush!" Owen pulls you toward the bathroom.

When you come back, there are four plates set on the table of five settings.

"Is Dr. Rhodes coming for dinner?" You politely gesture the fifth setting.

"Connor? No," Will is confused for a second. "Oh, it's for my brother. I asked him to come, but Jay usually got caught up at work and came late," He further reveals.

"Ah, the cop brother," You nod in understanding, "That's good. I was worried you guys were too trusting of a stranger,"

The doctors let out a chuckle at your thought, "Yes, my brother is a cop,"

"Should we wait for him?" You offer to hold the dinner off.

"No, we can start now," Natalie objects, "If we wait until Jay arrives, the food's going to be cold,"

You take a bite and praise Owen on his lasagna, "It tastes great, Owen! You are a good help to your mom,"

Owen is too busy with his noodle. He only responds with a big grin. Shortly, you hear knocks on the door.

"That would be Jay," Will gets up from his chair to the door, and Natalie stands up to pull one portion of lasagna out of the oven.

"Have you met Uncle Jay, Miss Y/N?" Owen asks you.

"No, sweetie. I have not," You shake your head.

"Uncle Jay is super fun. I like to play with him. We can play together, Miss Y/N. You are fun too. Because you bring chocolate," Owen explains his logic to you.

Trying not to laugh, you reply, "Well, thank you, Owen. But I think you are the most fun of all, right?"

Will soon comes back in, followed by an extremely handsome man in a fitting black t-shirt and grey jeans. You notice that the man is carrying a gun on his hips and a badge snugged on his belt. He glances at you before whispering something to Will. When the man steps to the other side of the house, you cannot help but stare at his back.

The screeching sound of Will's chair jerks you away from your staring. You keep your gaze down to your plate, hoping Will didn't catch you staring at his brother. You don't see it, but the doctors are exchanging smirks across the dining table. They definitely caught you out.

When Jay returns to the dining table, he ruffles Owen's hair before finding his seat next to you.

"You must be the guest of honor for tonight?" Jay extends his hand to you, "Jay Halstead, Will's brother,"

You clean your hand with the napkins before you take Jay's hand. "Y/N Y/LN. Nice to meet you. Not sure about being the guest of honor, though," You throw a small smile.

"Well, I heard you rescued Owen, so I think it's fair to make you an honorable guest," declares Jay.

"How are you doing, bud? I was worried when Will told me," Jay checks his nephew.

"It was scary, Uncle Jay. My friends and I were playing. I chased David, and Noah was chasing me. Then suddenly, I got pulled down! I was afraid when the water entered my nose, and then I cannot breathe!" Owen recites his experience.

"Oh, bud. It must have been scary. You have to be more careful next time. I know playing is fun, but you have to keep paying attention to your surrounding," Jay patiently advises Owen. Owen nods his reply, looking solemn in his round eyes.

"It was very fortunate that Y/N was nearby when it happened," Will adds to the conversation, "Do you often swimming there, Y/N?"

"Yeah, maybe two or three times a week. I usually come early morning or an hour before closing," You admit.

"Wow, are you preparing for a competition or something?" Jay baffles.

You laugh at Jay's comment, "No, it was not like that. I need regular exercise for my legs. My physical therapist recommends swimming,"

"It's the left one, isn’t it?" infers Natalie.

"Yeah, how do you know?" Feeling surprised by her question, your tone was slightly accusing, too. Did she somehow able to look at your medical record?

"When you came to the hospital that day..." Natalie starts to say.

"Ah, I should have known you noticed it," You are relieved to be wrong this time. "Your patients must have hard times lying to you, Dr. Manning,"

You quickly distract her before she can say anything more about your injury. Experiencing it was already hard. Talking about it was even more difficult.

"Well, my patients are mostly under 12 years old. They rarely lie. However, their parents are whole different stories," Natalie tells you.

"Personally, I like it when I can prove to my patients that they were lying," Will adds his opinion.

"That because your ED is attracting lots of nutters," cracks Jay.

"You are also a frequent flyer on my ED, Jay. It means you are one of the nutters," Will points out.

Laughing at their banter, you polish your meal while listening to the family conversation at the table.

"I finished my meal, Mommy. Can I have Miss Y/N chocolate, now?" begs Owen to his mother.

"Let's wait for Uncle Jay to finish his dinner, then we can have the chocolate together," replies Natalie.

"You have chocolates, little man? Gonna share it with me, right?" demands Jay to Owen.

"Miss Y/N brings lots of chocolate. She said she ate lots of chocolate with her best friend. You are my friend, Uncle Jay. So I will share it with you," states Owen. In agreement, Jay offers his bump to Owen.

God, this man is unbelievable. Good looking, stable job, and great with children. What would be his flaw? You ask yourself.

When Jay finishes his dinner, Owen drags him to the living room. You offer to help with the dishes. But Natalie refused your help.

"No, no. You go sit with Owen and Jay in the living room. Between Will and I, we can tackle these dishes in no time,"

So you go to the living room and find Jay sitting on the floor. Owen is sitting on the couch right in front of Jay, with your gift bag in his lap. He carefully opens the bag with Jay's assistance.

"This looks fancy. Belgian Pralines?" comments Jay once they got the box out of the bag.

"Nah, It was not that fancy. I only picked it because it tasted similar to what we have back home," You explain.

True to her words, Natalie and Will come to the living room shortly.

"Owen, you can only have one piece of chocolate for tonight, okay? We can save the rest for tomorrow," Natalie dictates to his son.

"But, Mommy..." whines Owen to his mother.

Natalie is not deterred by his son's whine, "One or none,"

"I will take the deal if I were you, bud," Jay fake-whispers to his nephew.

Grumbling his agreement, Owen turns to the box on his lap, meticulously inspecting it.

"I cannot choose! They all look delicious!" He cries his frustration.

"You can try the round one. It has caramel filling," You suggest to Owen. "Or if you like coconut, the triangle one got sweet coconut in it,"

"It got coconut in there??" Owen gasps in wonder. "I will take that. I like coconut, and the triangle is my favorite shape,"

Owen decisively picks his chocolate. The first bites into the triangle made his eyes go wide, astonished. Owen quickly takes another bite. Natalie, Will, and Jay then follow Owen, taking each different piece from the box.

"Ooh, I got one with orange filling. Hmm, interesting..." Natalie notes her pick.

"I expected the caramel filling would be too sweet. But it's not that sweet," remarks Will after his bite.

Jay, though, doesn't express anything about his chocolate.

"What about yours, Uncle Jay? What flavor is it?" Owen asks curiously.

"I got dark chocolate,"

"Did it taste good?"

"It's bitter," Jay informs his little inquisitor.

Owen pulls a face, "You can finish all the bitter chocolate, Uncle Jay. I only pick the sweet one,"

Jay grins at his nephew, "Thanks, bud!"

"Come on, Owen. You need to take a bath, brush your teeth, and get ready for bed," Natalie instructs his son.

Owen is thinking about negotiating her orders. He still wants to play with his uncle and their guest.

Before he could say anything, Natalie disrupts him, "Or Uncle Jay will take all the chocolate home with him,"

"Nope, I'm going now," Owen jumps from the couch and goes to the bathroom, followed by his mother.

Will also stands up from the couch, "You guys want anything to drink? Coffee, tea? Wine, maybe?"

Even though you want to take the wine, you decline his offer, "No, I'm good, thanks,"

"Just water for me, bro," Jay calls out to his brother as he moves to sit next to you.

"Which one is your favorite?" He asks you, referring to the chocolate box.

"From that box? Dark chocolate," You tell him.

"You got another favorite?" Jay seems intrigued.

"The liquor-filled ones," You sheepishly confess to him.

Jay raises his eyebrow, "That sounds fantastic,"

You laugh at his remark, "Yeah, they are good. Especially the one with Amaretto,"

"Hmm, I can imagine," Jay hums as he picks another dark chocolate from Owen's box.

Worried that Jay would take you as an alcoholic, you make another note, "But, dark chocolate is sort of aphrodisiac, though,"

"Yeah, I can see that. It's just purely good," Jay agrees with your choice.

"Pair them with red wine will make it even better. A box of dark chocolate, a nice red wine, spends it with a good company, guarantee you will have a good night,"

God, was it too suggestive?? You are internally freaking out.

"Actually, that would be nice,"

Jay gazes at you for a moment and then leans in your direction. Like a different pole of a magnet, you pull in closer. You can see light dust of freckles on Jay’s nose and wonder if his lips would taste like dark chocolate.

“Here you go, bro!” Suddenly, Will comes back with two bottles of water in his right hand and a cup of tea in his left. You abruptly move away from Jay, eyes down to the floor, embarrassed.

Jay takes one of the water bottles and gives an unimpressed look to his brother. Will grins cheekily in reply.

“Here’s water for you, Y/N. In case you get thirsty,” Will teases you.

You can feel your face turned red, “Thanks, Dr. Halstead,” Putting the title back to his name as you try to be cool about it.

There is an awkward silence for a moment before Will breaks it, “I think I have yet to ask you, but what do you do, Y/N?”

Relieved by the change of topic, you happily answer, "I work for a record label company,"

"What does one do at a record label company?" Jay asks you curiously.

"Lots of things. But mostly I produce music and write songs," You give a short detail.

“So you’re a musician?” Will points out.

"Yes. But not a performing one? If that makes any sense?" You try to explain your situation.

"I do not really enjoy performing in front of live audiences. I'm not comfortable facing a big crowd," You pause to see if Will and Jay understood.

"You got stage fright?" Jay guesses.

You throw a bashful smile, "A big one. The best I can do is performing on the radio. I used to work as a DJ on a late-night radio show," You begin to open up.

"On that show, I got to play whatever music I want, got to talk to people I'd like. There weren't many people listening to late-night radio, you know? So the station let me do whatever I want," You giggle through your story.

"I bet most of them would be late-shift workers, like we do," Will reckons.

"Yup. And fellow insomniacs," The three of you let out a laugh.

"At that time, I also played music from many unsigned, aspiring musicians. Sometimes, mine too, if I feel confident about it. Those were the only time I dare to "perform" if we can call it that way,"

"What kind of music are you producing now? Anything I might know?" Will explores, "Jay won't know anything, though. The last record he listened to was probably Ms. Jackson by Outkast,"

Vehemently, Jay protests, "Hey!"

You laugh at their spite. You are an only child, but your best friend is only two years younger than you. Most of the time, you banter like this too.

"It is a good song, though," You tell Will on Jay's behalf.

"Am I right??" Jay points it out to Will.

"Yeah, it is. But it's like two decades ago, man!" Will argues, "C'mon, Y/N, help me up here. You need to tell Jay here about songs you produced. He might wanna listen to new songs if you wrote them,"

You immediately blush from that playful tease from Will.

"I'm not sure you would be into it. Mostly I made dance music. Electronics and others," You clumsily stutter, "But recently, I'm working on a music podcast where I can play and tinker lots of music, not exclusively of dance music,"

Your eyes darted between these two men, "I'm sorry, it's so presumptuous of me. I didn't mean that you have to listen to it,"

The brothers quickly negate your apology.

"No, no, not at all," Jay shakes his head.

“Totally going to check that podcast out,” Will declares, "Where can I find it?"

But before you can answer, Owen runs to the living room in his pajamas.

“Ah, ready for bedtime?” Will stands up from his seat.

Standing in front of you, Owen opens his arms for a hug, “Thank you for the chocolate, Miss Y/N,”

“You are welcome, Owen. I hope it helps you feel better,” You hug him back.

“Yes, but I feel much better if I can have one more?” He dubiously looks at his mom.

“You would also feel better after a good night's sleep. So enough chocolate for tonight,” Natalie amusedly retorts.

Owen moves to hug Jay, “Good night, Uncle Jay. Remember, only the bitter chocolates for you,”

Chuckling, Jay rubs Owen's back gently, “I will not touch your sweet chocolate, I promise. Sleep well, bud,”

After the parents come back from putting Owen down to bed, you consider that it’s probably a good time to leave.

“I think I better go home now. You guys must be tired after a long day at work,” You rise from your seat.

“Oh no, you don’t have to leave now. I was going to open a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc,” Natalie persuades you to stay.

All of a sudden, you hear a ping from a phone. Follow by another ping. And another ping. Will pulls out the phone from his pocket and momentarily reads it, “Med needs me to come in,”

“Guess the party’s over,” Jay quips. Natalie let out a conceded sigh.

You pull out your phone, try to order rideshare to go home.

“I can drive you home,” offers Jay when he catches a glimpse of your phone screen.

“Ah, I don’t want to impose,” You try to resist.

Jay peeks at your phone again to see your address. “No, you won’t. It's on my way back anyway,”

“You sure?” You check again.

“Absolutely,” answers Jay confidently.

“Okay, then. Thank you,” You flash a smile to Jay that instantly mirrors back.

“Let me just quickly get my things,” Jay goes to grab his gun and badge.

When he comes back, Natalie and Will hug Y/N goodbye at the door.

“Thanks again for inviting me to dinner. It was wonderful,” You say to the doctors.

“Yes, it was! We should do it again sometimes. Maybe make it a picnic at the park when the weather is good,” Natalie recommends.

“Yeah, maybe by the lake? We could go swimming,” You concur with humor.

Natalie rolls her eyes while Will and Jay are sniggering. You share good night wishes with the hosts before leaving the house.

Next on this fic : Part 3

+x Taglist +x

@shipshipshipau

#fanfiction #one chicago #one chicago fic #chicago pd #chicago med #will halstead #natalie manning #owen manning #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #original work #wyftiiffy

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jeeperso · 3 years

Text

D&D Quotes Without Context

Ravenloft, Hazlan Arc, part 1

"Killing's not working and murders all we’re good at!" "I’m good at lots of…" "And murders all we’re good at."

"Chipmunk droppings, I just got this nice cloak and my daggers enchanted. This stinks like a badger who hasn't bathed in months."

“I can do horrible. But, sure, whatever.” "I'm sure there are easier ways to get a harem for yourself, that don't come with as many strings attached."

"Wrong head. This one is much more swelled."

"Let's hope if we ignore it then it will do the same and then bugger off." “We def gonna have to kill it by end of day.” "Worse, I'd hate for us to agitate it and it turn out to be some sort of.... delivery head..." “It’s what I’d use for messages if I was a forked up Wizard.”

"You don't intimidate me." He says, clearly intimidated.

“If it makes you feel better, now I only have to roll one body into the ditch.”

"We've no quarrel with you. Stand aside, or barter like...and he ran off..."

"There we go. Nice and non-violent." “You mispronounced 'boring'.”

"I'm going to keep a look out in case someone competent tries to ambush us."

“Besides, I’m like… a free lance peacekeeping agent. For certain definitions of peace. And keeping. And all the other words really.”

"Okay, just what is that, an ogre, a hill giant, or something else?" “Can I kill this one?”

"A silver piece says Tiny is as likely to attack them as us."

"Unfortunately we were testing a modified growth potion one day and I drew the short straw."

"I figured as much. You're ill equipped, your tactics are amateurish, and you don't respond well when things don't go your way. Screams desperate with few options." "You don't have to rub it in man." “You tried to rob us. Twice. And we didn’t kill you. Even though I kinda want to.”

“I dunno, the one with horns is screaming that he’s got some cool shit we can steal.” "I am Nima Galzona, Necromancer, and apprentice to the great Hazlik." “Jonni Humantorch, genie fucker.”

"I'm...not comfortable riding inside a giant mouth. Bad experience with a dire mole once."

"Do necromancers just lose the ability to smell? Or they just get so used to the scent of decay that it doesn't bother them any more?"

"So anyone else get the feeling that 'murders' is going to be a drastic understatement about what's wrong here? I don't get the impression that a crime spree merits wizard attention."

Today however the streets are strangely sparse, as you head to where the caravan usually sets up, you find out why. “Please be fire, please be fire, please…”

Death to all witches and workers of magic, repent and pray the gods show thee mercy, for I have none. --The Witchfinder. “Oh, sweet! Someone they’ll give me money to set on fire!”

“I don’t use magic. The universe just knows I’m awesome.”

"Oh boy... shits about to get political." Jonni stops and puts the torches she was gonna start selling back.

At this point Nima turns around and unleashes a massive skull shaped fireball into the air high above the crowd. “Nice add on. 9/10.”

“Which remind me, if you cast speak with dead, and speak with plants, can you talk to chairs?”

"I threatened to pick you up like an angry poodle once, am not afraid to do it again."

"I'll go along, someone needs to make sure Jonni doesn't set stuff on fire we need intact."

"I wonder what kind of experiment it must have been to have so many people..." "I can guarantee you won't like the answer." OOC: Let's be optimistic. Maybe it was an experiment in self-sustainable farming to improve the local ecosystem. OOC: Narrator: it was not.

"Why can't we ever go anywhere nice? I can vaguely remember nice places used to exist somewhere at some point."

"Okay, who broke the moon?" OOC: Who knows in this savage land of sorcery and super science. "Wait, he can break a moon! Umm, we should avoid him for a long, long time." "This is his domain after all. That or some race of lunatic ratmen who thought it was made of Ruminating Rock."

Just a single row of normal sized bricks, about ankle height. "Its a trap, get an axe."

“Marsh, we can make you a new hand, right?”

“Shove it in.....Are we still saying 'phrasing'?”

"Goggles on, things are weird." “Here weird or 'coke party in the City of Brass' weird?”

"You know how I was wondering about why we never go anywhere nice? Well now we are somewhere nice and I don't trust it at all."

“Hey, so what are you doing after work?” Pause. "I do not have that information." “Well, this is Hell, let’s burn it down. Burn it all down!”

"Hold on, I speak attraction." (POSTER'S NOTE: As in theme park, not sex.)

"That information is classified. Please give administrator passcode." "A Wizard did it." "Passcode accepted." "I can't believe that worked." “My second guess was ‘ruminating powder.’”

"Yeah.. The others seem to be currently living-impaired.." “Let’s check my newest victim first then.”

“Hey, slim! Look alive! I wanna discuss mass burial techniques!”

"Talk! Fast! Or steam loud!”

"It is wrong to murder a defenseless mage in cold blood. It is wrong to murder a defenseless mage in cold blood. It is wrong to..."

OOC: Marshal is of the opinion we don't kill him for a long time.

OOC: So what this session has taught us is like everywhere else in Ravenloft, The Weird Wizard Wasteland SUCKS!

Gorbash: okay… so… how do we finally get out of here? Domain lord: Only the Dark Powers could let you out. Edmund: So we need to talk to them. Domain Lord: Literally no one ever has. You’d have to cause a catastrophic amount of attention to maybe get their attention. Jonni: …. My hour has come at last. "Time to kill a monster. And it is self-defense if he summons a monster intent on murdering us." “Sure. Let’s go with that.” "Hi, if you are watching this. I am dead. I assume you killed me, but that was a mistake..." "It really wasn't." "Must run faster. Must run faster. Not getting caught in another dimensional implosion. Must run faster." Escape collapsing grad thesis, first! “Yeah, let’s let Marsh calm him down while we check to see if that loser left anything interesting out here." You find a very interesting ant. The tiny, angry sun is back in the sky. "Don't make eye contact..." "That’s my purse! I don’t know you!” Jonni somehow kicks the sun in the balls. "Beware! We have fortified waffles! They can concuss at 50 paces." “Crab people. Or more fucked up Wizard experiments. 50/50 odds.” OOC: Doctors without Domain Borders. "We only want the food and clothes." "And we just want shinies.” "Money is no use to us, no one would take it from us." “Oh, you just gotta know how to talk to them. Grab em by the short and hairies first.” "As said, my waffles are well fortified. They can be used as throwing stones." "And as a professional, I would advise not swimming five hours after eating one." "Really Jonni, I don't mind the way you speak.. but it might not hurt to try to limit the goading to people who CAN'T wipe us from existence?" “Killing me only proves I was right.” “Hey, we were bonding over our opinion on casual murder!” OOC: Her two diametrically opposed sides! Her evil side! And her indifferent side! "We never truly die, this will avail you nothing." “Yeah? I bet kinda dying still hurts like a mother forker though.” OOC: Slab of iron with which I have lived, strike now one last heart of dickery… “Sorry not sorry we killed your folks!”

#dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #quotes without context #ravenloft

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themadauthorshatter · 3 years

Text

RED SCHOOL AU/UA STORY/HEADCANONS ARC 2 PART 3

Hopefully this is the last part of Arc 2😅

We pick up with Tibe, Elara, and Rhian walking towards the royal quarters, Rhian asking his questons, as requested, beginning with how their journey was and if they found the school easy enough.

Tibe admits while the skeleton bird was jarring and they could've done without the storms, but everything was manageable.

Rhian's glad to hear that, and asks if the children will be alright(he's been a teacher/school master for nearly two centuries, and the SGE cast is 16 years old, so if a person is below 21, they're a child, in Rhian's eyes.) and Elara answers for Tibe that, yes, they will be fine before politely inquiring about having a room seperate from her husband.

Rhian sort of wallows at how almost every royal couple he meets hate each other.

He the asks if the two have seen or learned from a magician in recent memory, to which they confusedly answer no.

Rhian's only asking because he knows a trick when he sees one, a slight of hand, if you will, which he demonstrates by making a card 'disappear' and 'reappear' in his hand, though he reveals he's just moving the card while holding it between his fingers.

Tibe asks what he's talking about and Rhian chuckles and continues to lead them to their room, stating that, having been around girls for a century or so, maybe half, he also knows a perfectly baked cake when he sees one.

Here, we cut/transition to Mare as she enters her room, a couple maids setting things up like blankets and clothes, until she asks that they leave and get some test, as they must be exhausted from the trip.

They shakily agree and leave.

Mare looks around the room and sort of cringes at the horrendous amount of fluorescent pink the decorates the room, like the bed sheets and the pillows, before groaning as she sits down. Maybe we even get a gag of her falling into the bed, like the mattress sort of pulls her in and she sinks into the middle of it. With the maids gone, Mare only groans and tries not to give up on life. "Perfect."

With the SGE crew, more specifically Sophie and Agatha, Sophie pushes and slips through the crowd of students as they return to their dorms after classes(they'll get in HUGE trouble, if they're caught bothering the Silvers, and even get moved down a rank), Agatha on her tail and calling for her to stop and just go to class. Sophie shouts back to, "go hang out with Kiki," and continues on her way(Really wonder where she's going?).

Agatha follows her anyway, until Sophie mogrifs herself into a lovebird and shouts, "Prince Tiberias the Seventh, wait for me!"

Agatha watches, completely appalled and then looks up at the tower where the female Silver children are residing, about a long hallway away from each other. Mareena's got to be in one of those rooms. She looks for any wolves lurking, or other students, and mogrifs into a mouse to sneak to the doorway before she turns back to a human and climbs up the steps. I'll just knock first. If she doesn't want to see anyone, I'll leave. That's not me bothering her, it can't be me bothering her, if I give her space.

Speaking of Mare, she rolls onto her front and sits down cross legged, hair a little messy. Her makeup's safe, though, don't worry. "I hate this place," she grumbles.

Give her some slack, she's been trapped on a boat with Book 1!Evangeline for a week, has a really bad paper cut, and just wrestled a bed that basically tried to eat her.

It doesn't help when a knock on the door interrupts her from checking on said paper cut, right as she removes the bandage. Mare panics, hastily puts on her gloves, and tells the person on the other side of the door to come in.

EXPECTATION SUBVERSION! Cal's there to check on her. Mare welcomes him in.

Cal looks around her room and comments on it, and Mare threatens to throw her shoe at him; if he wants to act like a little shit right now, she'll gladly beat him like one, consequences be damned.

They check in and touch base, making sure they're okay, and just letting each other know that despite the color of their blood, they're in this together, him, Mare, and Maven. Mare sighs that Cal and Maven at least have their family with them, as Mare's is still in Norta, thinking she's in the palace.

Cal holds her hand and promises that this trip will be over and she'll see her family again before she knows it. Mare asks how he lnows and how that can even happen, recalling the hair's width close call from the last time she visited her family. Cal's grip on her hand tightens and he forces a chuckle, admitting that if either he and/or Maven found a way before, they can do it again.

It soothes Mare and gets her smiling, which gives Cal the okay to give her space and let her settle into her girly new room, joking that maybe it will rub off on her and he might be able to see a more feminine side to her.

She hurls her shoe at him as hard as she can right as he leaves, the two snickering, Mare despite herself and Cal for a job well done.

As Cal leaves, though, his smile drops at the realization that he has no idea how the hell he's helping her see her family again without getting caught. As much as he knows the rules, he knows Mare's heart, and, having the same problem as her, can't keep his mind and heart seperated.

Lost in his thoughts, he runs into Agatha on the stairs, who asks where Mare is. Funny, he just left her room, which is the second door on the left hand side.

As he leaves and Agatha contemplates her choice, we cut to Sophie as she pants and perches on the window to Cal's room; she's totally right here, she's at the right room. Her logic is perfectly sound here, she's in the right place.

She turns back into herself and does a quick hair fluff and even pinches some color into her cheeks before knocking on the window, maybe a little too hard because it swings open, just for me, she thinks.

Sophie struts in, announcing herself to the crown prince, proud as a peacock...

Only to scare the hell out of a shiryless Maven; he was cleaning himself off a little and was about to change his clothes when she interrupted him.

He asks what she's doing in his room, and Sophie asks if he's Cal, semi-hoping that this is just someone else because Maven looks nothing like a general or a future king.

No. He's not Cal. He's Cal's brother. Sophie kind of feigns ignorance, and Maven gives his name and the fact that she wrote to him. Still doesn't ring any bells, until he brings up the fact that she thinks she's in the wrong school.

"Oh! You ARE Maven!" Sophie gasps, before asking where his brother is.

Maven, realizing he's stuck with this brat, turns to finish changing, i.e. putting on a shirt, and explains that Cal actually left a couple minutes ago and, knowing him, won't sit still on his first day here, so he'll most likely being wandering the school. Sophie groans, and sits on the edge of his bed, and complains that she's tired from using her magic to fly over to meet him, before asking Maven if she can stay and wait for him to come back.

Maven, thinking quickly, admits she'd have a better chance if she just walked around. Cal's 6'3", pale as hell, and wearing black, red, and silver, so he's damn near impossible to miss.

Sophie huffs and agrees, leaving to go meet her new prince, bidding Maven a pizzazz-y farewell.

Maven rolls his eyes and finishes putting on his shirt and coat before falling back on his bed, groaning at the fact they might be here for a little while. Maybe more.

Time to check back in with Mare, who's examining that really bad paper cut when she gets another knock on her door. She answers it and finds Agatha standing at the door, greeting her politely and suddenly noticing her hand.

"You're bleeding!"

The two rush inside Mare's room, Mare panicking and trying to cover the cut herself, but Agatha helping because she's not good, she's great.

THIS is the bomb drop that Mare's not Silver, and it confuses and surprises the hell out of Agatha, who had it drilled in her head that only Silvers have power in Norta.

With little options, the two sit down on the bed and Mare gets to explaining.

It's been a while since we've checked on Cal, so lets do that: he's actually found his way to the boy's Groom Room and sees them training. The weapons are all wood swords, so no one's terribly injured, and anyone not sword fighting is throwing hammers, climbing ropes, or running or swimming some laps.

There are girls watching, all taking turns peeking out from behind a wall to spot Cal unintentionally being a general and mentally noting each boy's strengths and weaknesses, especially the one they're all trying to beat, Tedros, who's holding his own really well.

Speaking of Tedros, he notices Cal watching and gestures for him to come in.

Cal's already in more casual clothes, save for his coat, and complies, meeting the Everboys, who ask, kind of sheepishly how they did, as Cal is sort of a General and knows a lot a bout combat.

He has to admit, as politely as possible, that while they're all skilled, they would all get demolished in a real fight.

Tedros, the dumbass, asks what that means, as they can use magic.

Cal agrees that magic might be able to help them, but what if they wear themselves out and can't use magic?

Tedros, not listening and thinking unwisely, challenges Cal, just to prove his point. Cal agrees and hangs up his coat, one of the boys giving him a sword, one Cal sized(the 6'3" son of a bitch), and the two stand off before the fight begins, Cal telling Tedros to give it everything he's got while Cal will go easy on him.

Tedros goads him that he can take whatever, but Cal affirms that if HE gave his 100%, Tedros would probably die.

Enough talk, someone ring the bell, because THE FIGHT STARTS NOW!!!

Tedros DOES give his best, but Cal is a general. He either disarms Tedros or knocks him down and mock kills him.

After a while, they go at it again, Tedros doing better, and Cal tells him he'll go a little harder, so he knows that Cal can wipe the floor with him. He doesn't get hurt, but he gets the point.

Another rule Cal makes clear: There is no such thing as a fair fight.

He holds a hand out to Tedros, who's tired and bruused from having his ass handed to him, commenting that he's pretty good.

Tedros accepts with a smile on his face, blocking a swing and showing Cal he's already picking up on what he's teaching him, inadvertently.

It's official: The boys want Cal as their new teacher, because his technique is better than what they've been learning.

Cal can only fight the urge to laugh, seeing how enthusiastic they all are.

Back with Mare and Agatha, who are now sitting cross legged across from each other on the bed, where Agatha asks Mare if she's being serious.

She is, which she demonstrates by holding her cut hand and showing a little lightning. She's Red, she's got powers, and if anyone finds out, it's her and her family's heads on the King's platter.

This hits Agatha right in the gut, even when she asks Mare how Reds are REALLY treated, recounting how the students all believe the Silvers and the Reds are all equals, the Reds only picking up the slack of what the Silvers are unable to do.

Mare sets that vision straight: Reds and Silvers are not equal to each other. As the saying goes, in terms of power, 'What is a King to a God?' Or better yet, what is a farmer to a god? The cherry on top? If you're Red and don't have a job of any kind, have fun dying in a trench while fighting in a war that isn't even yours.

Agatha is at a loss for words, only knowing being ostracized and bullied. Out of words, Agatha offers her confidence, that she won't tell anyone what Mare told her. While Mare's glad for it, she still warns Agatha to stay as far away from Elara as possible, as Elara can and will read her mind. And there will be HELL to pay, if she finds out.

Agatha obviously agrees.

That's when shouting gets their attention, and some clattering, which leads leads them to the Boy's Groom Room; how'd the sound get that far? Vibration. And the vents. And Sophie passed by.

They look inside to see Cal and Tedros at it again with the boys cheering them on. This time they're hand to hand fighting and Tedros is locked in a chokehold as Cal tells him to tap out. Tedros only elbows him and they stand, which begins Round 5 of their fight. Yes, Tedros is shirtless, as Book 1 Tedros is gun' do. Cal is as well, because he got hot, but don't worry he shaved(appearances matter, even when it's something you think no one's going to see).

Turns out Sophie screamed because she's a blushing, squealing mess; Cal is far more than what she dreamed of, and it's killing her. Mare can't exactly blame her for staring, upon seeing how fit Cal is and seeing hiw many scars he has, a very unpleasant reminder of what he is and what he's been trained to be.

Agatha asks about wanting Tedros as her prince, out of confusion and a joke, and Sophie admits that she'll get him back because he'll get jealous. Boys fight each other a lot more when a girl's love is at stake.

Mare contradicts that notion by reminding them, and herself, that Cal's betrothed to Evangeline, and she has the teeth of a doberman; once she latches on to something, have fun trying to get her to let go. Sophie waves her off, bragging she can change his mind in 5 minutes. She just needs time with him alone in a broom closet. Mare and Agatha roll their eyes at this.

With the boys, Tedros spots the girls and inwardly groans at the sight of Sophie, which gives Cal the opening to yank his hair and bring him back to the fight; if he gets distracted, he's going to get himself killed. Tedros brushes it off and jerks his head to the girls, saying they have an audience.

Cal notices Sophie and has a moment of, 'Not this shit again,' when she giggles and waves at him, blushing pure red.

Here is where Tedros warns Cal to keep his distance from Sophie, though it's more serious than Ball Banter. Cal asks if she's his girl, and Tedros admits that she isn't, she's just bad luck and a pure snake. Cal admits that that's a little harsh and asks what she did to deserve getting the Prince of Camelot's cold shoulder as the two trade more harmless hits with each other. She didn't do anything, except lie to him about loving him, use him, and leave him to fend for himslef and die in a Trial by Tale, where Evers and Nevers fight to see who would survive a REAL fairytale. And she's a lunatic, sneaking into Tedros's drawers while he was training at night and trying to put him under a love spell.

Yeah, while he doesn't agree with the snake comment, Cal understands why he should avoid Sophie. He doesn't know how love spells work, but he'd rather not find out.

Just as they're about to go at it again, Professor Dovey shrills at the boys to stop harrassing the Crown Prince, from her place behind the girls.

As he puts his shirt and coat back on and leaves, Cal explains that he saw them training and noticed they could use a few pointers, which led to him getting a little carried away.

Dovey politely tells him that while his advuce is good, he should leave teaching to the professors, just to be in the safe side and no one gets hurt.

He agrees, much to the boys' dismay, and mentally kicks himself for leaving when he sees Sophie in front of him and introducung herself. Granted, he gives her the benefit of the doubt and is as gentlemanly as he can be, thinking, Maybe she isn't that bad, but that hope is shot down when Agatha tries introducing herself and Sophie slips in front of her so Cal can't see her.

Okay, maybe she is that bad.

Good thing Maven inadvertently saves the day as he stumbles into the hallway, getting laughed at and chewed on by fairies, who also take to pulling on his hair to piss him off.

Dovey shouts at them all the leave him alone, which they do, and apologizes to Maven for their behavior. He tells her not to worry, because he's had worse happen, giving a pointed glare to Cal, who semi-jokes he should really watch his back because the Everboys mean nothing but business and will attack on sight.

Dovey waves off this notion as she leads them on an official tour of the school, and explains that the schools have rules to seperate and connect Good and Evil, rules like Evil attacks other people while Good defends them, Evil takes advantage and Good gives opportunity, rules like that. (Sophie and Agatha stay behind, Sophie almost fainting at how much of a dream come true Cal is, even though he's a little awkward. She wonders if he was just stunned by her beauty, but Agatha hides her face in her hands and groans.) Maven comments that that's a very black and white way of thinking, but Dovey assures him it's the way of the school, and the rules and fairytales actually have loopholes. The girl who thwarted Rumplestiltskin did so by tricking him, by using guards she had hired to get his name, Rapunzel was born out of theft, in the original Cinderella, Cindy killed her stepmother. Vice versa, the witch that stole Rapunzel NEVER had to allow Rapunzel's father to keep stealing from her garden, Rumplestiltskin NEVER had to agree to help the girl, there are more examples, but I can't think of any.

Just know that there's some evil in good and there's some good in evil.

Cal asks if the other High House children should join them and Dovey admits she wanted to fetch them for the tour, but didn't want to bother them.

Mare's turn to ask a question, and it's one that's been bothering her: Why fairytales? And why have one guy rule over both Good and Evil, when there should one one leader for each side.

Dovey answers that by explaining the story of the School Master and his brother, a very similar story for SGE fans, but with a change: after the war, the stories continued to end with Evil ending every other time, rather than Good hogging all the glory. There were times Good won more, but that would be solved when Evil won certain times in a row and things got back on track.

Cal asks how such a thing is possible, because he's more than certain there's things maguc still can't do. Dovey points to a painting of the Storian, which the two brothers are fighting over.

Maven asks that all the fighting was over a pen, and Dovey tells him not to be decieved, because there's always more to see beneath the surface, which is said as a voice over as Tedros and Agatha race outside in time to see a group of fairies toss Sophie into the clearing outside of Good, snickering as she flails to a sitting position and glaring at them for ruining her dress.

While Sophie shouts at the fairies and then greets Agatha and Tedros with some degree of sass, Agatha scolds Sophie, saying she shouldn't have rushed in to greet Cal like a crazy person, but Sophie defends herself by saying she HAD thought about waiting, but noticed Beatrix and the others giggling and staring at him and panicked, because she didn't want them to steal her prince away from her again.

Tedros barks that he was never her prince and Cal is not her prince either because HE'S BETROTHED TO EVANGELINE. Sophie huffs and states she can change his mind easily, but stops when she hears a male laugh and tell her that she can try all she wants, but, knowing Evangeline, Sophie will end up being a wedding present to Cal, specifically as a mantel ornament.

Sophie deflates at that, and Tedros asks who the male is, noting his pale skin and armor. Lucas introduces himself and tells children not to worry about Evangeline, because she'll be doing one of four things on this trip: clinging to Cal, picking on Mare with her friends, hanging out with Elane, or bitching to her brother while they train.

Agatha sighs that Silvers train a lot for royals, and Lucas agrees, but that's because they have to. Where they're from, there's a war going on. Coming to the SGE wasa risk, and hopefully they don't stay long because Norta's extremely vulnerable right now.

Tedros asks what it's like, the war, which makes Agatha gulp as she remembers her conversation with Mare, and Lucas gives them all a look of, 'you're way too young to be talkimg about this,' before giving them a rundown on the war: the Lakelands have more farms and access to food, but Norta has more crop-friendly conditions and fertile ground and energy for power. Sophie asks they have enough power with Tibe on the throne and the High Houses backing him. Lucas corrects himself by explaining that Norta has electricity, enough for Silvers and Reds, and the Lakelanders want some of that power.

Tedros asks why they can't just give each other what they want and Lucas admits that of things were that easy, it would be the case, but things are never easy.

The trio remain silent for a little while, which prompts Lucas to take his leave, but Agatha has one more question, a couple small ones, and then one big one:

Is electricity stronger than what the School uses(candles for light, winds for ships, etc.)? Yes.

And the Nortans traveled by ship to the School? Yes.

And the ship was powered by this electricity? The engine was, but yes.

Million dollar question: If the Nortans came to the Woods, can ths students go to Norta, or anywhere else using this electric-powered ship?

Sophie gapes at her and Tedros gives her a look of pure hurt, but Lucas contemplates that, answering with a solid maybe before asking where she'd go, if she had her own ship?

With a glance at a fuming Sophie and a crestfallen Tedros, Agatha begins to answer, right as Dovey passes with Cal, Maven, and Mare following.

Too bad something bursts out of the trees and barrels toward Sophie, eyes blood red, body decayed and soaked with sludgy water, roaring like a wild animal, and armed with an axe.

Yeah, The Beast is back, and he's not happy with Sophie killing him.

Cal, Tedros, and Lucas jump right into action, Lucas using his armor to knock Beast away as Cal and Tedros race to stop him; the only one whi recognizes him is Sophie, so Tedros is acting solely on instinct here.

There's tussling, Tedros getting thrown to the ground and Cal getting cut by the axe, and Maven saving his brother, because he's a one way track.

Lucas neutralizes The Beast by chaining him up, but the bastard breaks free and knocks him aside, giving him a concussion.

With a quick, 'What's wrong with me?' Mare joins in, shooting lightning at him. It works, kind of, but gets a gold spell shot at him by Agtha for almost hitting back.

With their powers combined, and Sophie cheering them on, they take The Beast down, red mist leaving his body and curling away into the sky.

Mare and Agatha sigh and check on each other as Tedros, Cal, and Maven all exchange 'good jobs' and some high fives, which Maven accepts with a heavy conscience.

They all stop when they're interrupted by Elara racing to Maven and hugging him close, too worried to notice the 'OH SHIT' faces Mare and Agatha exchange.

Rhian and Tibe join her and ask what the hell happened, Rhian telling them to explain it to him in his tower, away from any eavesdroppers.

They do so, Tedros semi-fanboying to Agatha that he can't believe she was right, and Sophie staying behind to give The Beast one last nervois glance before catching up, not wanting to be alone if/when The Beast wakes up.

#red queen #school for good and evil #red school #mare barrow #agatha of woods beyond #tiberias calore vii #tedros of camelot #maven maven calore #sophie of woods beyond #tiberias calore vi #elara merandus #sge tedros #sge agatha #sge sophie

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scarletjedi · 4 years

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Sangcheng Time Travel Fixit Outline Part 3: Rebuilding

Here it is, folks, the final installment!

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Part III: Rebuilding

After the Banquet, everyone returns to their respective sects to rebuild, with plans to meet in Lanling in one month for the Mountain Hunt/Flower Banquet

Nie Huaisang sees this as a blatant political move/first step in an ultimate power grab. Jiang Cheng sees it as well, but mostly because he’s expecting it from Jin Guangshan. Huaisang also thinks it odd because, last time, the hunt was Jin Guangyao’s idea. Who is whispering in Jin Guangshan’s ear? He retreats to Qinghe and watches and waits

Jiang Cheng, meanwhile, is at loose ends.

He is *engaged* which is the first actually new thing to happen to him in years, at this point.

The war is over, he is as he remembers except Lotus Pier never burned down, so he doesn’t have to rebuild. (He’s earned the loyalty of the disciples in the war, that hasn’t changed, but they’re different disciples, more and less familiar. He does, however, convince his father to open recruiting to their sect – if nothing else, the war and actions of the Wen have left a lot of resentful energy. They’re going to need to cover more cases over greater distance or risk a second Burial Mounds

His parents are *alive* which is great, but even after their heart to heart (or maybe because of it) his father constantly looks surprised to see him and his mother sees far too much. They’re getting along better, but nothing like the couples Jiang Cheng knows who actually love each other.

Wei Wuxian is in Gusu, and his absence is perhaps the most familiar thing, for all that Jiang Cheng occasionally finds himself frustrated and looking for him in the places where he would hide to drink after the war. (and it hurts that it’s only now sinking in how wrong that was, and what kind of leader was he that his head disciple, his brother, was in so much pain and he didn’t see it)

Maybe he should get a hobby? He misses his dogs something fierce, but refuses to allow dogs on Lotus Pier.

I AM OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS AS TO WHAT HIS HOBBY SHOULD BE. I’m sure Nie Huaisang also has some ideas

Jiang Yanli is in Lotus Pier, and Jiang Cheng is shameless about following her around. He missed out on 16 years of his sister, he’s not missing one more minute. Yanli thinks it’s pre-wedding jitters (for both of them). She’s not *entirely* wrong

Jiang Cheng ends up spilling the beans to his sister. He’s just so tired, and it *all* comes spilling out. Time travel, Lotus Pier in flames, the death of her and Zixuan, Wei Wuxian being the weapon pointed at them, raising Jin Ling, his core—and he *cries* and Yanli cries with him and when it’s over, they have soup

Yanli invites Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji to lotus pier the next day, with the idea that they’d spend the time between now and the hunt with them and go back to Gusu after the hunt. She insists (and she’s right) that they all need to be with each other. And that Wei Wuxian needs to be told.

So, Jiang Cheng writes to Nie Huaisang, appraising him of the situation. Nie Huaisang is the mastermind, after all.

Nie Huaisang has about 3 days of painting/poetry/porn before he grows tried of it (and oh, the irony), and begins his study of the yin iron shard that Xue Yang left behind, beginning by recreating his notes, and what he can remember of Wei Wuxian’s (and what he knew of what Jin Guangyao kept in his treasure room)

Meng Yao finds out and tells Mingjue because some things should not be kept secret. He gets very angry – the war didn’t do his qi any favors.

Huaisang comes clean the way he only does with his brother and Jiang Cheng – as long as the Yin Iron is around, it will be coveted and we will end up with another Wen Rohan sooner or later

Meng Yao immediately realizes Nie Huaisang is talking about Jin Guangshan. “There are faster ways of solving that problem.” “I’m not letting you assassinate him, no matter how much he deserves it”

….WOULD THIS BE A GOOD PLACE FOR A VERSION OF FATAL JOURNEY?!? Only one that is less fatal.

Nie Mingjue proposes the sword castles to suppress the Yin Iron, that it could perhaps be used instead of corpses?

Nie Huaisang brings the shard with him, but of course it all goes wrong. They get separated from the disciples (and have their wonderful heart to heart – Nie Huaisang comes clean about doing this all before. Nie Mingjue comes clean about him and Lan Xichen considering propositioning Meng Yao) and have to fight off the sword spirits raised by the Yin Iron. Which they do, together, and escape. Nie Zonghui brings Nie Huaisang back to The Unclean Realm while Mingjue oversees the settling of the castle.

Nie Huaisang makes a crack about being glad they didn’t accidentally kill Sandu Sengshu’s fiancé

Nie Huaisang gets Jiang Cheng’s letter and confesses that Nie Mingjue now knows. It may be time to start letting people know, strategically. So yes, tell Wei Wuxian…but wait for me to start research!

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji arrive in Lotus Pier. Jiang Cheng tells all. Wei Wuxian hugs him so hard they both fall off the pier

Something fishy is happening. There are upticks in resentful activity that is ascribed to the fallout of a war involving the Yin Irons, but Nie Huaisang’s little birds smell something fishy. He begins to play closer attention to Jin Guangshan

Flower Mountain Hunt

No Wen prisoners this time, but Jin Zixun continues to make an ass of himself, natch

Riding in, Jiang Cheng makes DAMN sure that Nie Huaisang has flowers because they are courting and that is what one does (and Jiang Cheng has a habit of blurting out exactly what he thinks and it is at times incredibly romantic), and is *completely flustered* when Nie Huaisang beats him to it. He’s almost used to affection between them in private, but *was not prepared* for public courting when HE is the target.

Jiang Cheng refuses to look at Wangxian being themselves because of course they are. He’s mostly happy that he knows Jin Zixuan will be better behaved towards Yanli. He’s already told her he likes her, so no awkward confessions in the woods.

But, of course, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang come across Wangxian rustling some bushes, and have to VERY LOUDLY delay Zixuan and Yanli until they emerge, sheepishly pulling twigs from their hair.

They advance as a group and come across Jin Zixun harassing Wen Ning, who was until then doing very well in the hunt (because he’s a damn good archer) but he doesn’t have his years as a fierce corpse to give him the backbone he needs to tell Zixun to take a hike.

This is one step of Jin Guangshan’s plan. He wants information on how to use the Yin Iron and is convinced that Wen Qing knows something, and if she knows, then Wen Ning might know something, too. So, the purpose of this is “what do you know?” with a combination of “tell your sister to cooperate”

Without The Yilling Patriarch, there are no impostors, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t demonic cultivators - people like Xue Yang but not him because I don’t like him so he’s dead. (Wait for it!) FUCKING SU SHE!!

Jiang Cheng - “I thought he died in the war!” “He was supposed to...”

I know his focus is on transportation arrays, but he’s also desperate to prove himself and Jin Guangshan is *good* at exploiting weakness

So, we get a “demonic cultivator” who knows just enough to be dangerous because of what he doesn’t know and can’t do.

Despite the interruption, Wen Ning ranks in the hunt, as does Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen.

During the banquet, Jin Zixun tries that “Drink with me” bullshit to “apologize” for his shitty behavior, and to celebrate Lan Xichen’s standing.

Jin Guangshan has seen the ways the others are closing ranks and instead of saying “I have an in through my son, and possibly my nephew if he had a personality transplant” he wants to gain leverage over them.

He straight up tries to marry Zixun to Wen Qing again, thinking it’s only a matter of time before the Yilling Wen are a major house again. Wen Qing will not have any of it, because Zixun is a) odious and b) mean to her brother.

The date for Yanli’s wedding is announced, some two months hence.

Yanli is already pregnant, and Wen Qing notices (she’s the only one)

She’ll be around just 12 weeks when they marry, and while her due date gains her some serious side-eye from her mother, Zixuan is head over heels about the baby and is the softest father – but more on that later

There is a brief meeting to discuss the state of things. They plan to meet in Qinghe after the Banquet to compare notes and study the piece of Yin Iron to which Huaisang has access (the one in Gusu is still in the hands of Lan Qiren, who would not let them experiment, and there’s no way they can get to Lanling Jin’s artifact room.)

Nie Huaisang invites everyone to Qinghe for a night hunt

Everyone shows up like “okay, why are we really here” and are surprised when he says “no for real, a night hunt”

What are we hunting? “Xuanwu of Slaughter” the fuck you say?

Jin Zixuan mentions that his father is getting a bit too interested in the fact that Jin Zixuan is friends with the heirs to the main clans. Jin Zixuan tells him nothing except a very politely worded “fuck off” that Jin Guangshan doesn’t truly understand.

Jin Zixuan reunites with Meng Yao, and makes a formal offer of “brotherhood”

Nie Huaisang tips Jin Zixuan off on Qin Su and Mo Xanyu, who is now a year or two old

Fighting the Xuanwu isn’t easy, but it’s easier with more people/weapons.

Wangji uses chord assassination but with the actual guqin and the help of zidian.

Wei Wuxian still goes inside the Xuanwu as bait, finding the sword.

Wen Ning uses arrows and Zixuan is rathter good with his sword, actually. Nie Huaisang fights with talismans and the occasional fan

The beast dies in 2 hours rather than 6.

“At least we didn’t have to swim for it this time.” “And I wasn’t left behind in Qishan”

They take the sword back to Qinghe and begin their experiments in earnest. They are looking for a way to purify, destroy, or suppress the metal. Along the way, Wei Wuxian is gaining a clearer and clearer understanding of demonic cultivation.

“I have an idea, but it’s going to require huge amounts of resentful energy.” “You should go with Wen Ning to Yilling. There’s a place called the Burial Mounds” “Huaisang, no!” “Huaisang, yes!”

Before they go, Jiang Cheng reminds Wei Wuxian than he has to be happy, healthy, and whole for Yanli’s wedding. Wei Wuxian says not to worry, there’s a few things he wants to check in Gusu’s library before he tries anything

In Lotus Pier, wedding prep is in full swing, and Jiang Cheng throws himself into everything he can

It’s different than last time, last time Yanli did a lot of her prep in Lanling as Lotus Pier was still under construction

Her wedding will be perfect, damnit

True to his word, Wei Wuxian appears (sans Wangji) to escort Yanli to Lanling. For everything that’s been happening, Wei Wuxian is focused entirely on the wedding.

A-Jie’s wedding

It’s Jinlintai, so it's tacky as hell, but it’s also extravagant as hell.

Jiang Cheng weeps openly, and Nie Huaisang only mocks him a little before handing him a handkerchief. It’s odd, but so much better to have Wei Wuxian next to him, also weeping openly, but that’s Wangji’s problem.

Everyone (minus the wedded couple) end up in Jiang Cheng’s room after the wedding, and Jiang Cheng is able to ignore their absence only because of Jin Ling

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji leave for 9pm curfew (though Jiang Cheng is horrified to know that they won't be sleeping yet. He’s seen that look too many times to know differently), and one by one they all leave, leaving Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang alone for the first time in a while. Something they take full advantage of

The next morning they are woken by an alarmed Wen Qing - Wen Ning has gone Missing. They find him just over the border in Qinghe. (transportation array! Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng know IMMEDIATELY who it is - “WHY ISN’T HE DEAD?” “I don’t know!”) He’s very badly hurt, so they take him first to The Unclean Realm, bringing Wen Qing there to treat him. He’ll recover, but it will take time. Possibly, we’re looking at the return of Ghost General!Wen Qing. He was absolutely experimented on and left to die

The place they find him has been abandoned, but only recently.

This puts Nie Mingjue and Wen Qing together, and she gets brought in on the whole “our method of cultivation makes us more susceptible to qi deviation” issue to offer medical advice, as an exchange for “allowing” Wen Ning to recover there

Like Nie Mingjue was going to kick out Nie Huaisang’s friend. Pssh.

This is where Meng Yao approaches Wen Qing with a solution for her marriage issues (which might honestly boil down to “I’ve been in touch with my brother and he’s informed the ladies and I don’t think Jin Guangshan will be an issue any longer)

Jiang Cheng returns to Koi Tower to report to Jiang Yanli. She’s relieved that Wen Ning (and A-Qing, and when did they get so close??) are okay. She’s sad for Jiang Cheng that Nie Huaisang had to stay in Qinghe to host, as Nie Mingjue was still at Koi Tower, though he doesn’t stay long, ultimately.

Jiang Cheng returns with his parents to Lotus Pier, and is only mildly horrified to realize that his mother is beginning the preparations for HIS wedding almost immediately. Luckily, he’s able to put her off by telling her that Wen Ning was absolutely abducted by the Jin Sect. With Yilling Wen being a recognized house (and close neighbor to Yunmeng Jiang), Madame Yu is in favor of fostering good relations. She is (unfortunately) out of children, and Jiang Cheng only has to yell a little to remind her that he’s marrying Nie Huaisang and that *nobody* would be happy if he had to break his engagement to marry Wen Qing.

After his recovery, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji arrive to escort them to Yilling, where Wei Wuxian begins his task at the Burial Mounds. This puts him close enough that it makes *perfect* sense for Nie Huaisang to visit his fiancé in Lotus Pier (and assert that yes, *he* is going to marry Jiang Cheng. Wen Qing doesn’t even want to marry!)

This is the beginning of the end, everyone!

The Breakthrough

This happens “off-camera,” but basically, Wei Wuxian throws himself into the Burial Mounds, and with the help of Lan Wangji, learns how to manipulate resentful energies. With the background of his own (from another timeline) research, he’s able to stumble upon a more sustainable path very quickly.

I want it to have the side effect of purifying (at least in part) the burial mounds. It’s a form of suppression that, over time, purifies.

Absolutely, this is something that will also work on the saber spirit. This is a fix it, damnit

The End: SangCheng wedding

It all comes to a head at their wedding. It’s a natural end to both their romantic plotline (the shift from friends, to friends with benefits, to power couple, to terrifying husbands) and the other driving action (things only seem to happen near the great sects.)

It’s a week of party, and everything goes down right before the wedding, like, the night before

Wen Ning was the test subject, and the Class of ‘84 is abducted (via talisman) to a secret location, the goal of which is to turn them into (non-zombie) puppets so that Jin Guangshan can control them. Thing more Manchurian Candidate than Renfield

This is, of course, a blatant parallel to the Guanyin Temple, where the major players are either brought back or subbed in.

Jiang Cheng, Nie Mingjue, WN, Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wangji are all there, as is Su She

Jin Guangshan takes Jin Guangyao’s role, Jin Zixuan takes Lan Xichen’s place (I trusted you!) and Jiang Yanli takes Jin Ling’s place

Wen Qing and MianMian are also there, though they don’t have a direct parallel

I think Wen Ning still arrives, like, half way through and bursts down the door with Nie Mingjue, because that’s fucking poetry right there. (Lan Xichen should also get to have fun, and if they’re there, Meng Yao is there)

And if Meng Yao is there, then perhaps he should have a stab at Jin Guangshan. Though, I don’t think Jin Zixuan would like that

I think the most fitting end is that Jin Guangshan is subject to the weight of his own hubris. His cultivation is high, which helped to a certain extent, but this isn’t the sort of cultivation that can be brute-strengthed. Best case scenario, you have Wen Rohan. Worst case, you blow yourself up. I’m not sure if a Qi Deviation or literal explosion would be better here.

They marry, and live happily ever after

Jiang Yanli might also announce that she’s pregnant...and Jiang Cheng might cry “HIS NAME IS JIN LING COURTESY RULAN AND HE’S A GODDAMN MESS BUT HE TRIES SO HARD I MISS HIM SO MUCH"

Well, that’s all she wrote, folks! I’m going to be writing bits and pieces of this, at least, and I’m more than willing to take suggestions! If there’s something you want to see written out, let me know!

#the untamed #sj writes the untamed #sangcheng #the great sangcheng time travel fix it fic project #fic update

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libsterslobsters · 4 years

Text

Dazed and Confused

Description: Almost a month has past since Bucky and the reader met. Since then, they've had absolutely no contact or communication. What happens when someone decides to make the first move? More importantly: is this a date?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!enhanced! reader

(Reader can see shards of the future, understand all languages, and process information abnormally fast)

Warnings: Strong language, mostly fluff, mild angst, two idiots who could really benefit from a lesson in basic communication skills

Author's note: As per usual, the reader is unnamed, but when I'm writing, I refer to her as Violet. Also, Bucky Barnes is a poor lost puppy, and you can pry him from my cold, dead fingers before I'll let you hurt him.

*************************************************

The text comes when he’s ankle-deep in various pipes and tools (he could call the building’s super to fix the plumbing but with this great new thing called the internet, he figured it would be pretty simple to figure out why every time he takes a shower, the bathroom sink fills with sludge), and his hands are so full, he can’t check it. Besides, Bucky reasons with himself, it’s probably nothing. Nobody texts him unless it’s a wrong number or a telemarketer. In fact, at this point, he’s not even sure why he has a phone.

It takes a full hour to put everything back together (the youtube tutorials he watched made it all seem much simpler than it is), this time sans dead rat in the elbow fitting (he’s trying not to think too hard about that), and by that time, he’s nearly forgotten about the text. It’s only when he checks the time that he sees the alert on his phone. With a tap, he opens his messages, and as he reads the name attached to the latest one, he nearly drops the phone. It’s her.

He hasn’t seen the woman who has visions in nearly a month. Never expected to hear from her again, if he’s being honest. But there it is: a message with her listed as the contact. It’s not very long; only four words, actually. “Hey. Are you busy?”

He quickly types, “Why?” but realizes just as he’s about to hit “send” that it’s probably not the best response, all things considered (especially since he really, really wants to see her again… despite his better judgment). Alright, he needs to concentrate. Possibly, “That depends. What’ve you got in mind?” No. That’s too suggestive. Too flirty. Although he is flirting… sort of… maybe… he hasn’t figured that out yet. Finally, he decides to go with a simple, “No.” There. No way that can be misconstrued or make her uncomfortable (which is the last thing he wants to do). Unless she takes into account that it took him an hour to reply. Dammit. How do you even go about talking to a pretty girl these days? Is there a YouTube video on that?

Two minutes tick by. Then five. Then fifteen. He’s almost decided she’s not going to respond when his phone chirps again. “Sorry. Got caught up grading a paper.” This time, he’s fast on the draw. “That’s fine.” But not fast enough, because before he can hit send, another message appears. “This may be weird, but would you want to meet up? It’s okay if not. I just don’t know many people, so…” So…? That’s it? Is he supposed to wait for her to finish the thought or come up with a witty reply? How the hell does he do this?

Finally he comes up with another simple response. “When?” Great. He’s a monosyllabic wonder. It’s been a long time, and he can’t prove it (you know, because everyone who could bear witness to it is either ancient or dead) but he’s fairly certain he used to be better at this whole “talking” thing.

Less than thirty seconds pass by before there’s another message. “Now.” Now? Now! Okay, yeah, that’s fine. The shower’s fixed, so maybe he can hose off and change clothes fast enough that it won’t cause much of a delay. But he also hasn’t shaved in… when was the last time he shaved? At least he did laundry two days ago, so he has something clean- another ding. “Or, you know, whenever.” followed by… a yellow smiling face with a bead of sweat. What does that mean? Why is the face yellow? Once again, a ding. “What I meant is, I have this afternoon free. If you do too, that would work fine. No pressure.” No, he’s free pretty much for the foreseeable future. He should probably say something back sooner rather than later.

“Where?” No, that’s too short. “Where would you like to meet?” There. Better. Maybe. When did people stop talking on phones and only… texting? You used to be able to tell where a person stood because you could hear their voice. Now it’s all guesswork. God, he’s old. Definitely too old to be possibly thinking about her like-

“Wherever is fine. We could do a coffee shop again, or my apartment. Whatever’s most convenient for you.” Ball’s in his court. Um… he’d really rather not be out in public. For now, he’s safe (at least as far as he can tell), but it’s always a gamble, him betting against himself that his simple disguises will work, he won’t be recognized. That leaves… oh boy.

“Your place, if that’s alright.” That’s forward. Maybe too forward. She offered, but maybe that was just being polite? More importantly, is this a date? No. Can’t be. Possibly. Oh my god, what’s wrong with him?!

“Sure.” the words are followed by a string of numbers and a street name. “Just give me half an hour to make the place presentable.” Another yellow, sweaty smile. He really needs to look up what that means.

“Alright. See you then.” He presses another button and the screen goes black. Thirty minutes. What can he do in thirty minutes? As he catches sight of his reflection in the mirror, he makes a decision. Start with getting the sewage off his face.

___________________________________________________________________________________

“What the hell is the matter with me?” She mutters it to herself as, for the fourth time in ten minutes, she chances her clothes. “This is NOT a date. Not a date.” Just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl… she shakes her head. She needs to get a grip. Now. Because this is definitely not a date. Barnes might be many things, but at all interested in her THAT way is not one of them. How could he be? She’s… weird. And damaged. Not that he’s all there either, but the possibility of this being anything more than a potential friendship? Uh-uh. No way. She doesn’t need to see the future to know that much.

A knock on her front door makes her jump, immediately hating herself. Why is she nervous? There’s nothing strange about this. People meet up all the time to talk and eat… in one or the other’s apartment… after finding out they both have special abilities. Okay, all of this is pretty strange, especially since it’s her.

After taking one last glance in the mirror (and smoothing down her hair that’s sticking straight up, thanks to switching out her shirts so many times), she steps out of her bedroom and makes her way towards the door. Not a date, she mentally repeats to herself. No reason to be nervous. Not a date.Then why the hell is she shaking a little? She needs to get a grip. Now.

Taking a deep breath, she pulls the door open (as it so happens, just as the man on the other side raises his hand to knock again).

“Hey. You made it.” That sounded almost normal. Not like she’s quaking in her boots.

“I did.” He’s smiling, so she must not sound as awkward as she feels.

“Did you find the place okay?” Wow. She sounds like she’s reading from a script. A really boring script at that.

“Yeah. There’s this thing called GPS now, and…” He trails off. “You probably already know about that.” Great. Now they’re both fish out of water.

“I do. Super helpful.” It occurs to her that she’s just leaving him standing in the hallway, so she asks, “Would you like to come in?” Oh my god. Her brain. Where is it?

“Thanks.” He doesn’t make a move, and that’s when she realizes she’s still blocking the doorway. Dumb-ass. Trying not to seem awkward, she walks backwards, promptly running into her kitchen chair.

“Ouch.” Bucky winces, and she wishes the floor would open up and swallow her.

“Graceful as an elephant.” She murmurs it under her breath, but a snicker from the man behind her lets her know it’s been heard. Right. Super hearing.

“That should turn into a nice, purple bruise by tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah?” She calls it over her shoulder. “Do you see the future by any chance?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, grinning. He has a nice smile. No, she needs to stop thinking like that. Right now. “I’ve just had a lot of experience running into things.”

They’ve gone so far into the room that they’ve walked straight past the tiny kitchen into the living room. She wasn’t really intending to jump straight into, “Why don’t we sit on the couch, which happens to barely be big enough for two people”, but there’s no way to work, “Let’s retrace our steps into the kitchen” into conversation smoothly, so she takes a seat, scooting as far to one side as she can.

“I thought super soldiers were supposed to be agile.” Thank god, he’s sitting too.

“They are, but for around twenty-eight years before that, I was as clumsy as the next person.” Immediately, he freezes. “Not that you’re clumsy-” So maybe she’s not the only one out of practice in the fine art of making friends.

“No, you had it right. I am.” He still looks a little unsure so, ignoring the little voice in her head screaming, “Don’t do it! You’re coming on too strong!” she leans towards him. “Actually, that new bruise is the latest of at least five others I currently have, and I can’t remember how I got any of them.” Does that make her sound weird? But no, he seems to be rolling with it.

“Haven’t you ever heard of looking where you’re going?” She goes out on a limb, assuming he’s joking.

“I’ve heard of the concept, but I’m usually too busy looking ahead, so-”

“Fair point.”

There’s a lull in the conversation. It goes on so long, that she blurts out, “Are you allergic to anything?” just to fill the silence.

“Huh?” He frowns. “Don’t think so. Why?” There actually is a reason, but now that she thinks about it, how would he be allergic to anything? If her frantic googling is correct, whatever Captain America is hopped up on took care of all physical weaknesses, so it’s unlikely Barnes will suffer anaphilactic shock due to something in her kitchen.

“I cooked, and…” She trails off. “… never mind.”

“Oh.” Now she really wishes her “power” had something to do with disappearing. “Thanks, um-” he clears his throat. “-was I supposed to bring anything? I thought about flowers, but-” he scratches the back of his neck, and if she had to guess, she’d say he’s nervous too.

“No, just yourself.”

“Great, because that’s all I brought.” Splendid. Neither of them know how to hold a conversation.

Finally, she decides to just come out and say it:

“I’m not good at this sort of thing.” He looks mildly confused, so she explains, “Talking to people. That is, unless I’m teaching them.”

“I don’t think I am either.” She starts to ask, “You don’t think?” but reels it in. Apparently, her face must show what she’s thinking, because he continues. “This is the most of it I’ve done in a long time.”

It’s completely inappropriate, but she laughs.

“Same for me. Hiding out to avoid capture doesn’t really leave many opportunities to practice your social skills, does it?”

He chuckles.

“Not unless I’m doing it wrong.”

It may be a mistake, but she decides to make a suggestion.

“You know, I think I heard from someone that there’s this really great solution when two people are in a room together and are out of practice holding a conversation.”

“What’s that?” At least he doesn’t seem offended.

“Watching a movie.”

“Huh.” He nods. “That was the go-to when the cat’s got your tongue back in my day too.” Good, so it’s not a foreign concept. “I’m afraid I don’t know of any theaters around here though, or even what’s playing.”

“Not a problem.” As she says it, she powers up her laptop “Any preferences? They’ve got pretty much anything if you know where to look.”

He thinks for a minute, then asks, “Fantasia? Do you think they have that?” It’s an unexpected request; out of all things, the ex-soldier wants to see a Disney movie.

“I’m sure they do. Give me a second.” Luckily, it’s on the first service she tries.

As the opening credits play, she struggles not to laugh at how wide his eyes go.

“How did you-”

“It’s on Netflix.” Nothing. He doesn’t know what that is. “It’s a website. I just typed in what I wanted to find, and there it is.”

The only sound for a few minutes is the swelling music coming from the speakers, then finally, Bucky murmurs,

“I don’t think I’ve been using the internet to it’s full potential.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

“Really?” Somehow, over the course of the evening, they’ve stopped sitting stiffly next to each other and watching their words. Now she’s turned towards him, a plate balanced on her knees, both of them completely ignoring the movie playing in the background. “A rat in your pipes? Are you serious?”

He nods.

“Afraid so.”

“How the hell did it even get in there?”

“Beats me. I didn’t ask it.”

She’s got a great laugh, Bucky thinks to himself. It’s the kind of laugh that makes you want to give into the giggles too.

“That’s probably for the best. From the sound of things, it wasn’t in any condition to answer your questions.”

He’s about to shoot back a reply, but then he remembers.

“That reminds me-” Careful not to elbow her (this sofa is barely a sofa; he’s not complaining though, because now that the ice has been broken, it’s actually kind of nice being close to another person again), he digs his phone out of his pocket and pulls up her texts from earlier. “-what does this yellow face mean?”

She frowns and leans towards him (she smells like cinnamon, maybe cloves… it’s not weird that he’s noticed that, right?).

“Oh.” Again, that laugh, but quieter this time. “It basically means, ‘I’m second guessing what I just said and I hope it didn’t come off the wrong way.’” That makes sense, given the context, but he still has another question.

“But why is the face yellow?”

Her brow furrows slightly as she thinks.

“You know, I’m really not sure. That’s just how most emojis look.”

“Emojis?”

“May I?” She indicates his phone.

“Sure.”

With a brief tap to the screen, a full page of yellow faces (amongst other odd symbols) appears.

“These are emojis. They sort of add interest to a text.”

“Huh.” Taking back the offered phone, he studies the symbols. “That would’ve been useful to have when we sent telegrams.” As soon as he says it, he realizes how he sounds. “I just dated myself, didn’t I?”

She smirks.

“Just a little, but don’t worry. It’s charming.”

He places a smile on his face and laughs lightly, but on the inside, he’s still trying to figure out whether or not this is a date. Is she, against all odds, actually interested in him, or is she just being kind? Two hours later when the clock strikes nine, he’s still not sure.

“Well, I hate to kick you out, Bucky, but I have a student coming by tomorrow at seven a.m., so I need to get to bed.” Has he overstayed his welcome? But no, she doesn’t look offended.

“Sure. No problem.” He stands and, without thinking, offers her his hand to pull her up, which she takes. How long has it been since he’s touched another person, or another person has touched him, like that? A casual gesture that normal people with simple secrets share?

“Thanks for the meal, by the way.”

“Oh, no trouble.” She still hasn’t let go. “Did you want to take some leftovers with you?”

“No, that’s okay.” Yes, he really does want to (its much better than what he usually comes up with on his own) but if he had to venture a guess, she probably doesn’t have the funds to be giving away food willy-nilly.

“Alright.” She pulls her hand away, and immediately, he feels colder.

They walk single file towards the door (this apartment is too small for them both to pass through shoulder-to-shoulder), her right behind him. As he pulls open the door, he tells her,

“Thanks again for everything.”

She chuckles.

“Thank you for the conversation.”

He’s about to say something more (although he’s not sure what) when she wraps her arms around him in a hug. It takes a second for him to realize what’s happening, but then he returns the embrace.

It’s over far too quickly, and when she stands back, her cheeks are flushed.

“Be careful on your way home.”

“Will do. Have a good night.”

On the bus ride home, he plays over the events of the evening. He’s still uncertain as to whether or not it was a date. He feels like it was, but it’s been so long… time to consult the internet. As it turns out, there’s quite a few websites that offer opinions on the subject. He finds one that has a quiz attached and, calculating how much time it’ll take him to get home, decides to take it.

The questions are pretty generic, and he gets through them in under two minutes. Waiting for the result to load, however? He’s back in his apartment before he gets a solid answer on that. There’s a graph showing how they measure each factor, but the final result is stands at, “You’ve been on a date- likelihood, 99%.” Huh. First time in seventy years. Maybe he’ll give the whole “texting” thing another go.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Morning dawns far too early for her liking, and with it, her memories of last night return. It was going okay. Really it was. Until she hugged him, that is. Oh my god. Why couldn’t she show some common sense for once? Friends don’t hug goodbye, especially not, “I’m just getting to know you” friends. She’s never going to hear from him again because she came on too strong, and now he really doesn’t want to have the, “I’m not attracted to you” conversation.

As she makes a cup of tea, a scene plays out before her eyes. The phone dings with a text alert under the name “Barnes.” She doesn’t realize it’s a vision until that exact thing happens ten seconds later. “Wow. So helpful. Really.” She mutters to herself. It’s almost as useful as someone yelling “Duck!” just as you get hit in the head.

She really shouldn’t read the message. She has a job to do, a student to teach, and if she’s distracted during their lesson, she’ll feel terrible. But, another “ding” sounds and curiousity gets the better of her.

The first text is simple: “Good morning” followed by… she has to choke back a laugh… several various smiley faces. Guess he’s decided to give emojis a go. “Hope your class goes well today.” Shaking her head, she scrolls down to the next message. “Last night was fun. Would you want to do it again sometime?”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” She whispers as her fingertips make contact with the keyboard. Maybe he didn’t take it as her trying to make something happen between them that never will. Or maybe he’s just been away from normal human interraction for so long, he’s accepting whatever she throws at him simply so he’ll have a friend. Either way, she likes him and would like to know him better, and if that means swallowing down the silly crush that’s starting to develop, she can do that.

“Good morning. That sounds great.” She types back, then puts her phone on silent. Certain areas of her life may be changing, but for now- a knock sounds on her door- class is in session.

#marvel #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #the winter soldier #avengers #captain america

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miaa4tez · 5 years

Text

Season 3, Episode 1 or so help me god... Also available on AO3.

Finally // beautiful stranger

He sort of thought she’d maybe... say something, after everything. He’d walked home that night a bundle of uncertainty and self-doubt, but for the first time, he actually felt a bit hopeful. He and Maeve couldn’t seem to stop missing one another, and he was damn near determined that this time, it’d be different.

But then the weekend came and went, and he hadn’t heard from her once, and he found himself growing more self-conscious by the second. Had he been too late? Did he miss his chance for real this time? Was she really... over him?

He nearly races to school come Monday morning, a ball of nerves and pent up energy. He tries being happy for Eric as he recounts endless details about his weekend with Adam, really he does, but all he could think is whether Maeve had truly heard his confession of love and felt... nothing. That might just be the thing to do him in for good.

It takes him a few laps through the school but he finally finds her in the library, a book perched on her lap and her thumbnail between her teeth. He nearly loses his nerve, can’t help but stare at her like this for a moment - unguarded, serene - but then he reminds himself that he’s done being an asshole, damnit, and pushes forward.

“Um, Maeve?” Fucking loser. Man up.

He sees her jaw clench, her teeth biting the inside of her cheek, her eyes shut briefly before she flips a page. He hates that he elicits that response from her now. “Studying, dickhead.”

He watches her swallow and her eyes seem to be going over the same line over and over.

He clenches his hands at his side. “Can we talk?” He unclenches his fists, stretches them in the silence. “Please.”

She’s so good at masking her emotions, but he catches a slight hitch as she clears her throat, shuts her book with a definitive thud and stands abruptly. She meets his eyes, cool and steady, and he feels himself shrink under the weight of her gaze. “I’ve got to get to class.”

She pushes past him then, out the door, and for a moment he considers letting her go. Surely she deserves better than him, better than the hurt he’s caused her. But then he spies her jacket left dangling over the couch and his body is moving without his consent.

“Look I know I said some stupid things but I really think we ought to talk it out so I could tell you how sorry I am,” he pleads, her jacket draped across his arm as he strides behind her.

She speeds up, forcing him to trail after her. “Not much to talk about then, is there? You’re sorry, so that’s it. We’re good then.” She bites the corner of her thumb, refusing to turn and face him as she weaves through the halls.

“Well I just thought...” He stops short. What did he think, really? “I hadn’t heard from you this weekend,” he mutters instead.

She stops in front of her locker, flicks her eyes to his briefly, searching. He lamely extends her jacket to her and she snags it from him a touch too harsh. “Yeah well. I’ve been busy. Not everything is about you, you know.”

He buries his hands deep in his jacket pockets. He’s a little ashamed it’s taken him this long to congratulate her. “Yeah, no, of course. Sorry. Congratulations, by the way. I saw you on TV.”

The corner of her mouth turns up in the barest hint of a smile, but she ignores his attempt to meet her eyes and reaches for her Maths book. “Right. Well it wasn’t just me.”

“You should be proud of yourself, Maeve. They couldn’t have done it without you.”

If he’s thawing her at all, she won’t let on. She bites her bottom lip anxiously and slams her locker in a hurry, but he presses on, hands extending then retracting back to his pockets.

“And I just thought we could clear the air, you know. Be friends again?... I’d really like to be your friend again, Maeve. At least.” He shakes his head. This isn’t going well. “I’ve let you down and I know that. And I understand if you didn’t lis-“

“Otis.” She interrupts him, exhaling his name almost as if she’s got no energy left. He sucks in a breath and looks at her. Sees the hurt swimming in her eyes. “Forget it, okay? We’ve tried being friends but all we do is hurt one another.” She wraps her arms tight around herself, her eyes boring holes into her shoes. “I’ve got enough people in my life to hurt me. I don’t need another.”

She meets his eyes then and he couldn’t save this if he tried. He opens his mouth anyway - foolishly - but whatever he intended to say is drowned out by the class bell.

Her eyes flicker to his once more - pleading him to fight back? Maybe, but she’s pushed past him and out of sight before he can find the words.

...

She’s basically a ghost for the rest of the week, slipping through the halls in silence and keeping her eyes to the ground. She‘s forgotten how easy it was to go unnoticed in this school, and she both loves and hates how easily she slips back into it. Fleetingly she thinks that she hasn’t seen Otis once, even from the corner of her eye, and it’s not like she cares or anything - she hardly noticed, really, fuck off - but the clinic has been almost nonexistent and she’s got rent due Monday and this spat between them is really fucking with her source of income.

By Friday she’s said maybe ten words total to another human being (three of which being “Piss off, Isaac” when the wanker insisted on perching himself at her doorstep after she refused to answer his calls), but she found herself somewhat comforted by still having people around her. The fact is she hates the idea of going home to an empty trailer almost as much as she doesn’t want to be at school, so she sucks it up and makes plans to ask Aimee if they can walk home together. Thinks maybe she can spend the night there if she asks, too. God, she hates asking for things.

It’s not just Otis she’s avoiding. It’s everything. Her mom, her shitty fucking luck, the reality that of all the Quizheads, she’s least likely to get a full ride scholarship to Uni even though that’s the only way she can realistically afford to go. She knows she‘s destined for more than a shit job at the mall and a double wide with no heat, but she’s certain she was born in the wrong dimension, because in this one life is determined to fuck her over.

Her mind is a tangle of self-doubt but she’s trying her fucking damnedest to silence it all as she waits for Aimee by the school’s entrance, perched against a tree and attempting to focus on Silas Marner - she finds it far superior and the more relatable of George Eliot’s works, no wonder it took her so long to finish Middlemarch - but she’s been standing here for over an hour and Aimee is nowhere to be found. In fact, the front lawn is basically empty aside from a couple stoners and some horny couple grinding on a bench in the corner. She checks her phone, shoots a text to Aimee, waits five minutes for the three dots to pop up and when the message comes through, she feels her heart fall to her feet.

Steve wants to try hugging. Raincheck?

The sun is setting as she walks home alone, a crisp in the air that wasn’t there last week, and she’s trying to match her steps to her heartbeats but it’s proving harder than she’d like. Who says her breathing’s more ragged than usual? Sod off.

She wishes she hadn’t lent Erin her headphones - she’ll never see those again either - because she could really use something right now to drown out her racing thoughts. She focuses instead on the faded crescent moon rising in the sky, and by the time she walks onto the lot the sky is dark and the only thing she wants is to curl into a ball in her bed and not leave until Monday morning.

She sees the bag from far away, hanging from the door handle of her trailer. She looks left and right on impulse, wonders if it was Isaac before she feels certain it wasn’t. If her steps quicken, she’ll never admit to it.

She snags the bag quickly and slams the door behind her, fingers itching to find out what’s inside. Her hand wraps around a binder and she pulls it out slowly, suddenly nervous. A note flutters out with it and falls to her feet, and her jaw clenches as she recognizes the familiar scrawl.

You deserve better than all of us.

She stares at the message a moment more because she collapses into a seat at the table, binder spread out before her. She opens the first page and her throat tickles with the emotion of it all.

It’s a collection of paperwork, brochures and articles and informational pamphlets. Schools she mentioned, universities she’s named in passing conversations when she thought they were just killing time before his next session. He compiled them all by the areas of study she might be most interested, and she smirks despite herself that each school is color coded. He’d always busted her for organizing the clinic schedule like that. He’s even taken the time to highlight new places she hasn’t considered, places that offer creative writing programs and financial scholarships for independents.

She feels the smile on her lips but it’s like her brain catches up, stunned for a moment by the gesture, and she’s suddenly furious.

Who does he think he is? He doesn’t know what she needs, what she wants, what’s best for her. All he’s done since he came into her life was cause her pain, and now he’s trying to be some fucking savior for her? She snags a sweater strewn over the couch and is out the door before she even knows where she’s going. All she knows is that he doesn’t get to make some grand gesture and have her forgive him. It’s bullshit. She’s going to storm over there and tell him exactly where he can shove his fucking charity. He’s -

-standing in the middle of the bridge. Waiting for her.

Her breath catches in her throat and she absently notes that he looks terrified. There are so many things she wants to spit at him but for some reason she can’t find words just yet. He shocks her by speaking first.

“I didn’t want you to have to come all the way to me again,” he shrugs, the corner of his lip curling up just slightly.

She crosses her arms quickly, petulant as a child as she scoffs at him. But despite herself, she feels lighter standing before him. Damn it all to hell. “How’d you know I’d even come to you?” She’s trying for offhanded but knows she doesn’t manage it.

He scratches his ear and looks to his shoes. “I didn’t?” He has the decency to sound sheepish. “I figured I’d give it an hour or so and see if you called maybe.”

“Oh, only an hour then?” She deadpans. She gets way too much satisfaction from his rosy cheeks.

He cocks his head just so, offering her a half smile. “Maybe two,” he relents.

She feels her mouth pulling into a grin but she bites the inside of her cheek before it erupts. Instead she nods once and wrings her hands together by her chest. The silence sits between them and it’s colder out here than it was an hour ago.

“I’m sorry,” she hears him breath, and he must realize how quiet he said it because he clears his throat and meets her eyes. “I’m really sorry.” Louder this time, more conviction.

She can see the sincerity in his eyes and he always did know how to get to her. She nods this time, her mouth twisting in a wry smirk. “Yeah you should be,” she jokes, but it doesn’t feel much like a joke once it’s out of her mouth, and she feels the frustration seep back in. “You know, you can’t go around trying to manipulate me by doing something nice. Doesn’t work like that. You’re not charming, you know.”

Otis blinks. “Is that what you were coming to tell me?”

“What?”

“You were headed to my house, weren’t you? Was that what you were going to say?”

Her eyes widen, indignant, and the anger mounts. “Yes,” she demands. “You can’t just hurt me and expect it to all be okay just like that. It’s not. I trusted you, Otis, and you let me down. Everyone else is shit but I never thought you’d...” her voice catches and a small sob fills her chest but she won’t let it out. Refuses. Instead she stops, catching her breath and turning her head to the side as angry tears threaten to pour over. She digs a nail into her palm to stop them. She won’t let him do this to her again.

He takes a tentative step forward and reaches out for her slightly, and she finds great satisfaction when he retracts his hand, until she follows his gaze and realizes he must notice that she’s wearing his sweater. Shit.

It seems to embolden him though and he looks to her again. “I know, and Maeve, I know I hurt you and I was a dickhead -“

“Massive dickhead,” she elaborates.

“But I don’t think it’s all my fault.” He finishes.

She’s certain she heard him wrong.

“Excuse me?” She gapes, incredulous.

“We’ve been tiptoeing around each other for months,” Otis argues, arms up for emphasis. “All year, really. And then Jackson -

“Are you seriously turning this around on me?” She can’t believe him.

“No but -

“‘Cause it sounds like you are -“

“I’m not!” He insists. “It’s just that...you’re you! And I’m ME and, and we were friends. Such good friends, Maeve, and then you... And it just made me so angry that you didn’t tell me you liked me until things with Ola.... it’s just... I had no idea someone like you could have possibly liked someone like me.”

Her nostrils flare with her anger and she’s trying not to strangle him right this instant. She’s not sure if it’s because he doubted her or that he’s so fucking sure he’s right (and so what if he is a little?) “Right well it’s probably for the best you didn’t know. I’m the most selfish person you know, after all.”

He sighs loudly. “Maeve, of course I didn’t mean that.“

“It sounded like you did,” she quips.

“I was so drunk. I ate a whole roast chicken that night! And I was confused and I was trying to hurt you like I was hurting when of course you didn’t deserve it.”

He’s got her there.

She sniffles and crosses her arms, choosing to count the railings on the bridge rather than meet his eyes.

He sighs and reaches toward her, palms open. “I know I can’t take back what I did. And I know things are still broken between us. But... I like you, Maeve. I really, really like you.”

She looks up then, against her own will honestly, but he’s got his eyes closed. Either because he can’t look at her either or he’s mustering up the courage, she can’t be sure.

He rubs a hand over his face and chuckles ironically. “Hell I think I even love you. You’re brave and you’re resilient and you’re honest and you’re good. Life should have taken you out dozens of times already but you never let it. You’re too good for every fucking one of us and we just keep letting you down over and over. But I want to be there for you. I want to be the one you turn to. I don’t want you to feel alone or scared or hurt. And I hate that I’ve already done all those things but if you let me, if you give me a chance, I promise I won’t hurt you again. And I know, I know so many people have said that to you before, but I’m going to prove it. You don’t have to believe me, but let me prove it to you. Please. I -“

She’s not sure at what point in his speech her arms drop to her sides, when her brow smooths and her gaze softens and her lip drops just slightly. She feels the heat pool in her chest, warm and bubbling and even a little uncomfortable, blooming its way up her neck to her cheeks and face. And in her haze she really can’t remember when she steps forward and brings her mouth to his, soft but hard all at once, but she knows when she does that she’s never quite had a kiss like this in her life.

That is, because he doesn’t quite kiss her back.

Her lips are tingling but his body is like a statue before her, and she’s sure he’s unconscious but she can feel his heart thrumming beneath her hands atop his chest, and has she killed him? She pulls back slightly, exhaling a harsh breath, not daring to meet his eyes but seemingly incapable of putting more than an inch of distance between them. The barrier’s been broken now and she finds she’s never been warmer in her whole life. She’s about to say something, anything really, when his hands come up to cup her cheeks, coaxing her to look him in the eyes. Nerves grasp her now - it was so impulsive, she didn’t give it a second of thought before - but she has no time for them. She hears him swallow just as he pinches her chin and brings her mouth to his once more, and this is what their first kiss should have been. His lips are tender on hers and she wants to be closer to him all at once, so she wraps her arms around his waist and opens her mouth, feeling his breath on her tongue before his follows along. She was sure he’d be timid but it’s like his body is reacting all on its own, and she can’t help herself. Her lips curl into a smile against his mouth, and she nearly melts into a puddle when his thumb comes to the corner of her lip, the pad of his finger tracing the outline of her smile.

When they properly pull back for a breath, she can feel his eyes on her, blue crystals boring into her soul, and for the life of her she has no idea why she meets his gaze. She wants to look away but somehow she can’t, and he’s smiling at her and by God if she’s not absolutely fucking in love with this dickhead.

“You kissed me.” He tucks her hair behind her ear as he says it and she hates him even more. Her life will never be just hers again.

She licks her lips. “Tell anyone about this and I’ll bite your dick off. Okay mouth breather?” There isn’t the slightest trace of malice in her voice. It’s barely above a whisper.

Otis nods once, brow creased in mock seriousness. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m still angry at you,” she murmurs, eyes fixated on his bottom lip as she grips the ends of his shirt tighter.

He swallows hard and nods. “I know. I’m still angry with me too.”

She wants to keep the banter going but she’s got no fight in her, just butterflies wrecking havoc on her stomach and fire in her cheeks. She can’t stop staring at his lips - it’s like he’s cast a spell on her or something - and then she remembers she can do it again if she wants. This is going to be a real problem, she can tell. She’s on her tiptoes when he seems to remember the same thing, and he’s wearing the goofiest smile when he brings her face to his and leans down to kiss her again.

(It might take him a few hours to calm her down after he tells her about the missing voicemail - she could fucking murder Isaac - but he quickly finds exactly how to shut her up. If they don’t sleep that night, it’s entirely his fault.)

...

Note: this was shit but I wrote it in the notes on my phone because please let them be together next season PLEASE. It’s my first tumbler post too so sorry the format is weird as shit.

#fanfic #otis and maeve #sex education #otis x maeve #otis milburn #maeve wiley #emma mackey #sex ed s2 #sex ed netflix #asa butterfield

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colbybrocksmolder · 5 years

Text

Damage Control - Colby Brock x Reader (plus size/curvy)

“Welcome to the show, guys. Settle in.” The interviewer welcomed Sam and Colby.

They had been doing bits the last few weeks. Driving up the coast, they had hit 15 or 16 different creator studios to participate in partnered videos. It was crazy and hectic, but it was so cool to see them get so much media attention.

As the interview continued, the guys relaxed quite a bit. The host and the company were super chill, and they had been laughing for about 40 minutes straight.

“In the next segment, I’m going to read off a word and you have to tell me the first funny story that comes to mind, okay?” The host directed.

“Oh, hell yea.” Colby replied, Sam adding an “Oooo this could get juicy.”

After the first few words, the next word asked was “pets”.

Colby immediately turned to Sam with a huge grin on his face, “Dude, should I talk about the…the doggy door?”

“Oh, my god. YES, that’s way funnier than dyeing Circa pink.” Sam laughed. “Y/n is going to kill you”, he teased, clapping his hands and throwing his head back in a fit of laughter.

“Oh, no” the host chuckled. “Okay, out with it!”

“Okay, okay. Oh, my god I have to stop laughing. So, we all used to live in this big house called the Trap House with some of our friends. THEN we spent the following year all separate in our own apartments. Well this last month Sam, Jake, and I and all three of our girlfriends moved into another pretty large house. Y/n, my amazing girlfriend, technically moved in before the rest of us. She’s good at like decorating and organizing and she had to be there to like tell delivery people and workers where to go.” Colby rambled, trying to explain and give context. “So, Jake had gone over to drop some stuff off. Well while he was there, he didn’t realize that y/n was in the back yard and he accidentally locked her out of the house before he left.” Colby chuckled, burying his face in his hands for a second. “Oh, man. This next part is partially my fault.”

“Colby, it was 100% your fault.” Sam laughed.

“Okay, so all MY fans watching this video” Colby looked right at the camera before continuing, “know that my girlfriend is not a skinny girl.” He said casually. “You guys all know her from my last 6 months of videos on my personal channel. For anyone else watching this who maybe doesn’t know who we are or who y/n is, my girl got curves.” Colby mimed the hourglass waist shape with his hands.

Sam cut in, turning to Colby. “Side note, I found out yesterday that y/n’s number is in Kat’s phone under the name ‘baby mama’.”

Colby laughed, “Dude, Kat’s name in Y/n’s phone is way worse.” He laughed, clearing his throat. “That’s a story for another day.”

“Oh, god.” Sam laughed.

‘Okay, okay. Back to my original story.” Colby continued. “When Y/n got locked out of the house, she couldn’t get ahold of Jake. When she called me to see if I was anywhere close to the house, I reminded her that she had JUST had someone install a doggy door because we wanted to get a house dog. I may or may not have suggested that she try to crawl in through the doggy door.”

“Wait, wait, wait. I was in the car with you. Your exact words were ‘Baby, just shimmy that fat ass through the doggy door. You’ll fit. I PROMISE.” Sam called him out, laughing. “Don’t worry, Y/n. I was there. This is totally Colby’s fault.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side, brother!” Colby laughed. “Okay, fine. I definitely told her it would work and it definitely didn’t. And if anyone remembers Y/n doing an Instagram live saying she was bored and waiting for me to get home…The tile you saw her laying on is directly inside our doggy door. She managed to get the girls through the door no problem.” Colby said, holding his pecs to indicate he was talking about her boobs. “But getting her hips through or getting the girls BACK OUT proved to be impossible without a little help from yours truly.” He grinned, pointing his thumbs at himself.

“We made it to the house like 15 minutes later and she was literally half in/half out of the doggy door.” Sam said.

“We all laughed so much it took us like 15 more minutes to get her out.” Colby laughed, rubbing his cheeks. “My face hurts from laughing.”

“At least it sounds like you guys are going to enjoy sharing a house again.” The host said, chuckling at the story. “I’m sure everyone is looking forward to you guys getting back to prank videos and group shenanigans.”

The interview continued on, the boys finally ending their travels the following week and making it back to the house. When that specific interview came out, Colby had called you into your shared bedroom to watch it.

“Oh, god. This is the doggy door one, isn’t it?” you laughed, the boys having told you the same day as the interview that they had told the story.

“Of course.” Colby chuckled, pulling you down on the bed to cuddle with him. He pulled you against him, making you the little spoon and grabbed the remote to play the video on your bedroom tv. You two laughed your asses off, Colby tweeting out the interview and you two moving on with your day.

No one in your house thought twice about anything in that video causing any drama. You’d always been a big girl and Colby didn’t see a single problem with it. So, when you woke up to all of your friends texting you two links to drama pages criticizing Colby for telling the story, you were completely caught off guard. There were videos made saying that Colby was fatphobic or a bully. There were articles written about how embarrassed you must be that your boyfriend doesn’t think you’re skinny.

You opened up the massive group text you guys and your friends used for updates and important shit instead of trying to text everyone back. “Hey, I’m gonna wake Colby up so I can ask him how he wants to handle this bullshit. The pizza night kickback is still happening tonight. Everyone can head over whenever they want because I have a feeling we won’t be leaving the house today.”

You fucking loved the friends you had made through Colby.

Kevin – Your man is proud as hell to show you off. Anyone trying to twist this into some body shaming bullshit needs to hand over their internet access immediately.

Elton – The idiocy of these articles is actually hurting my brain. So, they think Colby was being a bad boyfriend by calling you “not a skinny girl”, but nowhere in the articles are they concerned that Sam admitted to masturbating while wearing Heelys. Priorities, people.

Corey – Do I have permission to post a photo on Instagram of my juicy ass stuck in Navi’s doggy door? Too soon? #toolate

Brennen – Girl, the drama pages can get fucked. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with havin’ a fat ass.

Mike – Aryia said you and I should start a duo channel called fat ass and flat ass. I have no clue what content he expects us to post.

They continued to message you guys both funny and actually encouraging messages.

“I’m making a video” Colby said after scrolling through all of the articles and videos. “And I told the channel the interview is on to keep it up.”

“Do you want me in the video?” you asked, knowing that it might just be a video where he wants to sit by himself and talk.

“I wouldn’t do it without you.” He smiled, leaning over to pull you into a kiss. “Get your bathing suit on. We’re filming this by the pool.”

“Does it matter which bathing suit?” you asked, walking into your closet and chucking Colby’s swim trunks at him.

“Wear my favorite one. The one with the black strappy things.” Colby answered, pulling on his swim trunks and grabbing his camera.

That afternoon, Colby posted the video to his channel. Your friends had all eventually joined you for pizza night and Colby had told them you’d all watch it together. With everyone gathered in the movie room, you cuddled into his side and he pulled the video up on the big screen.

*Video start*

Colby was sitting on the ground by the pool, close to the camera. He was in his swim trunks, shirtless, and his wet hair was pushed to the side, slightly stuck to his forehead. “Hi. My name is Colby Brock and my girlfriend has a fat ass.” He ducked to the side to reveal you standing a few feet behind him. You were stood there with your hips swayed to one side and your arms posed like a Greek goddess. Your voluptuous figure silhouetted against the sun behind you.

Laughs and cat calls alike could be heard throughout the movie room.

Not 3 seconds into the Instagram worthy camera shot, Colby then ran and tackled you into the pool. Both of your laughter could be heard as you fell in and swam to the surface of the water. Colby pulling you into a quick kiss before the camera cut to the next clip.

You two were sat in the grass next to each other on a beach towel. The camera a few feet in front of you. Colby spoke, “As most of you probably know by now, I shared a funny story about y/n in an interview Sam and I did about a week ago. This story has since then been taken and twisted somehow into me body shaming my own girlfriend.” Colby turned his head and connected his gaze with yours, adoration clear on his face. His hand moved to rest draped over your thigh. He continued talking, his eyes still staring back into yours. “The people trying to make it seem like I was in any way disrespecting this beautiful woman have truly lost the plot.”

In the movie room you could hear a few “awwwws” until Mike cut in. “Why are you two always so goddamn cute” He was fake crying, his hand over his heart.

On the screen, Colby turned back to face the camera, his hand staying on your thigh. “The people writing that I embarrassed Y/n by saying she wasn’t a skinny girl are really just embarrassing themselves. Y/n isn’t skinny.” Colby’s fingers dug into your thigh a bit. “This isn’t an insult or a jab or said to be mean in any way…and most importantly it’s not a reason for her or anyone watching this video to be embarrassed. And I think that’s what pisses me off about this whole thing the most.”

The video cut to a new clip, the camera on the side of the pool. The two of you were in the water, Colby behind you with his arms around you. It was your turn to speak. “The problem with the criticism that Colby has gotten over this story is that it implies I should be ashamed of my body. If he had shared a story about one of his thin friends getting stuck somewhere no one would have batted a single eye. This furthers the bullshit idea that it’s okay to be clumsy or quirky or to do stupid shit if you’re thin, but oh buddy, us fat kids have to make sure we don’t embarrass ourselves. To everyone that posted negative things about what Colby said…Instead of pretending to be body positive by acting like you were somehow coming to my rescue, why don’t you actually do something to spread self-love and body confidence. Some of you have MILLIONS of teenage girls and boys watching your videos and reading your articles.”

Colby pulled you against him, momentarily upset you even had to make this video. He let you finish and added on to what you said. “To any young people watching this video…Actually, maybe some of the older people need to hear this too…don’t let anyone tell you how much space you’re allowed to take up. Don’t let anyone tell you how loud you’re allowed to be or bright you’re allowed to shine. You don’t have to fit in some cookie cutter mold.”

Before Colby could continue you slipped in “Or in a doggy door”, laying your head back against his shoulder and busting out laughing.

Colby laughed, leaning down to kiss you. Looking back at the camera, he continued. “Watching my chubby girlfriend laugh her ass off while stuck in our doggy door will always be one of my favorite memories.” He moved the two of you towards the camera, resting his chin on your shoulder. “And how shitty would it have been if this wonderful human here in my arms wasn’t able to laugh at it because she was too self-conscious or worried that she was somehow embarrassing me.”

Colby kissed your cheek. You smiled and started talking. “Don’t let some fake, unattainable, BS beauty or body standard steal the joy out of your moments. If you spend your whole life worried about what other people are thinking about you, you’re going to miss out on so much.”

“People can say whatever they want about my relationship.” Colby said, smiling. “I don’t really care, at this point. I’m happy.”

*Video end*

Claps, cheers, and awws could be heard from everyone sprawled out in the movie room.

“I am seriously impressed with how you guys handled that.” Elton said, reaching over to pat Colby on the back.

“I like that you guys kept it funny, too. It’s very you.” Kat said.

“I’m not gonna lie. I heard everything you said, but I really just stared at y/n’s boobs the whole video.” Tara laughed.

“I wondered why your mouth was hanging open the whole time.” Jake teased her.

“I was definitely distracted while editing it.” Colby chuckled.

“Do you think it will get good feedback?” Sam asked.

“Yes and no.” you answered.

“Why no?” Colby asked.

“Well, it’ll get praise for being ballsy and honest, and it’ll get talked about because it’s about body image. Plus, we’re cute as fuck” You laughed. “But you’ll always get those people who feel like they have to tell you who you should be dating. I’ll get comments about how I really should have been wearing a one piece or that I’d be so pretty if I dropped a few pounds.”

“Miserable people hate seeing other people happy.” Mike said.

“Exactly.” You agreed.

“Well those fuckers can unsubscribe then.” Colby said, holding you a bit tighter. “I’ve got my happy right here and I’m not letting her go.”

#colby brock #colby brock x reader #colby brock imagine #colby brock plus size #colby brock oneshot

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comicgeekscomicgeek · 4 years

Text

Their Hero Academia – Chapter 65: Hit the Beach!

Presenting the next installment of my on-going, nextgen, MHA fic! Earlier chapters can be found here

Okay, maybe having rich friends wasn’t such a bad thing. And since everyone had come along, Isamu didn’t feel like too much of a moocher. Well, maybe a little. Even with the seventeen members of Class 1-A, Izumi’s parents, and the butleriest butler to ever butler, there’d been plenty of space on the private jet. He’d really underestimated Izumi’s family’s wealth. That wasn’t how the upper half lived. It was some kind of upper percentage that involved a lot of zeroes after the decimal point.

But laying on a tropical beach? Yeah, he could get used to this. Maybe if he got really successful as a Pro-Hero someday he could make enough money to do this kind of thing sometimes. Mom and Dad would probably appreciate a real vacation too.

After getting checked into the resort (Owning your own resort on your own island must be nice. They had an entire floor to themselves.), Class 1-A had done a bit of scattering to take advantage of the amenities. Aoyama had begged off going to the beach—understandable with how his Quirk absorbed light—and had instead decided to hit the spa, for which Izumi, Koda, and Tokoyami joined him (Izumi had practically insisted Tokoyami joint them, saying they had a specialist in spa treatments for people with feathers on staff).

Isamu’s gaze drifted out to the water, where several of his classmates were already horsing around. The water looked extremely inviting, as clear as anything he had ever seen, gentling lapping onto the white sand shote. Somehow, Sero (wearing the loudest swim trunks Isamu had ever seen in his life and which no-doubt were deliberately picked for how they clashed with his pink skin) had convinced Kocho to fly him out over the water. Her wings were flapping hard and she was hovering probably a good six feet above the water.

“Okay, okay,” Sero said. “Now let me go! Let me go!”

“I don’t know about this…” Kocho said.

“Look, you can either let me go, or I’ll squirm out on my own.”

Kocho just sighed. “Your funeral,” she said, and let him go. She flapped hard and shot straight up, even as he shot straight down.

Sero tucked himself into a ball as he fell. “CANNONBALL!”

SPLASH

Sero hit the water hard, sending water flying everywhere and utterly soaking Sato, who was filming the whole thing, as well as Ojiro and Tensei Iida, who’d been in the water too. Ojiro was wearing one of those long-sleeved uv protective swimsuits, in bright neon green, which she’d said was for “visibility.” Which he supposed made sense. If she was wearing less, it’d be hard to spot her if something went wrong. She also had a flower in her hair and was wearing large, bright yellow sunglasses, which gave some general definition to where her face was.

Sero popped up out of the water with a laugh and grin. He fired off a double thumbs’ up. “Did you catch that, viewers? You’re just been Sero-Bombed! Boom!”

“TAKUMA!” Ojiro screamed, arms flailing wildly. “Did you have to do it so close?! Look what you’ve done to my hair!”

“Aw, c’mon, Kimmie,” Sero said. “It’s not anybody’s going to be able to tell.”

There was a moment of silence, the air thick with tension. That had definitely been the wrong thing to say. As if guided by some kind of primal instinct, Sato and Iida were backing away slowly. And then Ojiro set herself upon Sero, fists flailing and hitting him upon the arms and shoulders again and again.

“WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT, TAKUMA! YOU KNOW THAT’S NOT NICE! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO SCREW AROUND LIKE THAT?!”

“Ow! Ow! Kimmie, you know my weaknesses is being smacked! Ow, ow! Just not the face, okay? Please, not the face!”

“Don’t worry,” Sato called out. “I’m getting this all on film! Kick his butt, Kimmie!”

“I really must protest this assault on my boyfriend,” Iida piped in. “No matter how misguided his actions were, violence is not the proper response!”

“Guys, I am so sorry,” Kocho called out circling around above. “I had no idea it was going to be that big!”

Isamu looked over to his left, where Midoriya was occupying another one of the beach chairs. “Should… should we be stopping this?” Ojiro’s outbursts usually ran themselves out fairly quickly, but still…

Midoriya shrugged. “They’re not hurting anybody, except maybe Sero. And it’s my vacation. I’m off duty and I say let them blow off some steam.”

Well, that was a different answer than he’d been expecting. Maybe Midoriya was taking Aizawa’s admonishment to have the rest of the class to rely on him less to heart. Of course, Aizawa had also told him that he needed to step up his own leadership game and that thought was just terrifying.

So he was going to file all of that under things he wasn’t going to think about right now.

Kocho, meanwhile, had flown away from the chaos and landed next to them. She wore a backless black one piece swimsuit and had explained that while she liked the beach, she couldn’t really get her wings too wet or she’d be unable to fly.

“Definitely time for a strategic retreat,” she said. She gave her wings a flick, causing some stray drops of water to fly off, before folding them behind her. Her antenna flicked up for a moment before settling. “Sorry I set that off.”

Isamu laughed. “Trust me,” he said, “that would have happened sooner or later no matter what. That’s just who they are.”

“Definitely getting that,” Kocho said.

“Besides,” Midoriya added, “Sero is extremely persuasive. He even managed to talk me into standing on the ceiling once for some kind of “upside down room” video.”

Okay, Isamu made a mental note to see if that was somewhere on Sero’s Viewtube channel. Because that sounded hilarious.

“Ooooh, boys,” a sing-song voice called out from somewhere behind them. Isamu felt a chill go down his spine as he realized it was Mineta.

***

Despite his words to Haimawari, Toshi’s roles as “Team Dad” and class representative were hard to completely shake, so he did keep an eye on Ojiro and Sero, even as Sato and Tensei tried to pry them apart.

Mineta’s call, however, distracted him from anything else. He’d head that particular tone of voice often enough over the years, usually when she was feeling particularly attention-starved and was going to hit on someone.

“Should we look?” Haimawari asked, sounding a bit panicked.

“She’s just going to keep making noise until we do,” Toshi told him.

“I take it this happens a lot?” Kocho asked.

“You have no idea,” Haimawari said.

“You all better turn around!” Mineta called out, proving his point. “I mean, you’re going to want to feast your eyes on me anyway, but Midoriya’s really going to want to see this.”

Oh, that couldn’t possibly be good.

Reluctantly and with sinking dread, Toshi turned to look. He could hear both Haimawari and Kocho suck in a sharp breath and it wasn’t hard to understand why. There was Mineta. And there was a lot of Mineta on display. There was also a cow-print bikini, of which there was not a lot. Kaminari was standing next to her, wearing a considerably more modest one-piece in yellow and black, and looking vaguely embarrassed.

“She cannot possibly be real,” he heard Kocho say.

“…Pretty sure she is,” Haimawari squeaked. As both a frequent target for Mineta’s flirtations and having had some accidental if direct contact with her during the Sports Festival, he was qualified to weigh in on this. Mineta had a way of getting into people’s heads like that.

And, well, Toshi had eyes. And he was a guy. He’d be lying if he said that between her bikini and her b…ody proportions, that Mineta didn’t have an effect on him. He felt more than a little flustered just looking at her.

“Like my bikini?” Mineta asked, posing so that she thrust her chest out and also somehow emphasized her rear as well. “I bought it special for this vacation!”

“I still can’t believe you have that,” Kaminari said. “You’re almost naked. Hell, you’d probably show less if you were. Your parents can’t possibly know you have that.”

“Just because you’re lifetime president of the itty-bitty committee, Chi, is no reason to get snippy,” Mineta replied, turning so rapidly that it set parts of her swaying in ways that he felt he probably shouldn’t be watching.

“The hell did you just say?!” Kaminari’s Cords snapped up, crackling with electricity. “Say that again, Mika. Say that again and we’ll see how much fat conducts electricity!”

“Oooh, kinky!”

There was also, Toshi realized, a familiar head of blue-black hair behind the two of them. Sora was taller than Mineta, but between Mineta’s horns and the fact that there was a lot of Mineta competing for attention, he hadn’t noticed her at first. He heard a soft cough.

“Oh! Right!” Mineta said, switching gears with such suddenness that Toshi was sure he heard the clutch pop. “I almost forgot the real reason I wanted your attention.”

She made a dramatic gesture with her arms. “Presenting… the tall, the brainy, the hot, the runner up for best boobs in the class… Sora Iida!”

Mika took a few steps to the side and Toshi got his first look at his girlfriend since they’d split up to their rooms. He’d asked if she’d wanted him to wait, but had somehow been overruled by Mineta, who’d said she needed to talk to Sora first.

In retrospect, that really should have been a warning sign.

“Hello, Toshi,” Sora said. She was smiling, but he immediately noticed that it was nervous and uneasy. Her posture was more hesitant and awkward than usual and in stark contrast to Mineta’s confidence. “Do you like what you see?”

Sora was wearing a bikini. It wasn’t as small as Mineta’s, but it was definitely a bikini.

Toshi was not a blind man. He was aware that his very tall girlfriend was also very busty. In reasons why he liked her, this fact ranked very, very low. Which wasn’t to say he hadn’t thought about that, in late night moments, or when she hugged him tightly and pressed up against him.

“…Why are all the girls in this class so hot?” Kocho said. “Oh, no, I said that out loud…”

“Not looking at my friend’s girl, not looking at my friend’s girl, I’ve got a girlfriend” Haimawari said, quietly and quickly. He continued repeating the phrase.

He became very aware that he hadn’t said anything in a while.

“Toshi?” Sora asked, concerned, her own nervousness seemingly forgotten for a moment. “Are you all right?” She waved her hands to try and attract his vision.

“See?” Kaminari said, throwing her hands in the air. “You broke him! I could have told you he’s too innocent for this!”

“Well, excuse me for trying to help spice up their relationship!”

“No one asked you to!”

“I’m okay!” Toshi yelled, more loudly and quickly than he intended. He felt his face go red. Either that or he was on fire. It was hard to say at this point. “You… you look amazing, Sora,” he said.

“Mineta said you would like it,” she said, approaching him. He tried very hard to keep eye contact and only failed a couple of times. Mineta and Kaminari were still fighting, but he tuned them out. He was also pretty sure he heard Haimawari and Kocho high-tailing it out of there. “May I?” Sora gestured to the beach chair Haimawari had vacated.

Toshi gulped and nodded, trying hard not so stare as he she went by.

“She said that girlfriends “dress sexy” for their boyfriends and that I would be a good girlfriend if I did this for you,” Sora went on. “She said she wanted to help and had several bikinis prepared for me to try on.”

Toshi buried his face in his hands. Eventually, he brought his head up. “Sora, what’s rule one when dealing with anything Mineta claims?”

Sora thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “The same for scientific studies! Always corroborate with a second source! Preferably Tokoyami if available.”

He smiled. “Right,” he said. “She probably just wanted to see you in a bikini and to give me a heart attack.” He scooted his chair closer to hers and put an arm around her shoulders, mindful of her Jetpack pipes. He’d learned the hard way that the skin around them could be quite sensitive. That particular discovery had left him red in the face for quite a while.

“Besides,” he said, “you don’t have to do anything different or special for me. I mean, unless you want to.” He added that last part hastily, realizing the gap in what he’d said. Both Sora and her brother sometimes needed extra explanations about proper social conventions. It was why Mika had been able to fool her so easily. “I like you,” he said. “I like you in your uniform, in your costume, in your regular clothes. And I do like you in this. But do you like you in this?”

Sora frowned. “Undetermined,” she said. “I am not used to wearing so little. It seems very impractical.”

“Yeah, there is that,” he agreed.

“But I am happy that you like what you see,” she added thoughtfully. “I suspect more evidence is needed.”

Deciding to be bold, he leaned over and kissed her cheek softly.

“Whatever you want, that’s your decision. I’m not going to tell you how to dress.”

Sora nodded, seemingly satisfied with that. “I am still learning how to be a good girlfriend, Toshi. I do not want to get this wrong. I do not really know what boys want.”

“Hey,” he said. “I said it before, we’re learning together, okay?”

“Okay.”

And it was.

“Though I did notice you were definitely staring at Mineta…”

***

“Oh, this feels so good,” Mika said, as she slid low into the hot spring, purple hair floating around her head. She made a very distracting moan. “I swear, Todoroki, this place really does have everything.”

Chihiro shot her a look. “Do you and the spring need a few moments alone?” It was a sharper barb that she really should have made, but she was still annoyed at Mika for the “itty-bitty” comment earlier. It wasn’t her fault she took after Mom or that most of the rest of the girls in the class were more… shapely than her! And compared to Mika or Iida, everybody looked small.

The look Chihiro had shot her was nothing compared to the look Kirishima-Bakugo gave her. “If you’re going to be gross,” she said, lips curled back in a snarl, “you’ve got a room.”

“Relax,” Mika said, not looking at her. “I’m just really enjoying this.”

“When the Yaoyorozu family designed this resort, they wanted to make sure that every luxury was available to the guests and to themselves,” Izumi said, sinking a little lower in the water herself. Already, her pale skin was beginning to flush from the heat. “They worked with a geokinetic and a hydrokinetic to craft it according to very exact specifications.”

“Geeze,” Kocho said, “just how rich is your family?” She was sitting the farthest back, wings kept above the waterline. “Sorry, that was probably rude.”

It was, honestly, a common reaction when hanging out with Izumi.

“You know that old kid’s manga? About the kid who could turn stuff to gold and it made his family like, mega rich?” Chihiro said.

“That would not work,” Iida said. She’d slid low in the water too. Apparently her Jetpack pipes were self-sealing. “It would drive down the value of gold and ultimately make it worthless. Furthermore, any Quirk like that would be highly monitored by the government for misuse…”

“Just go with it,” Chihiro said, trying to avoid a lengthy discussion. Iida could get too caught up in the facts and miss the actual point fairly easily sometimes.

“Oh yeah, I remember that one,” Kocho said.

“Good,” Chihiro replied. “Triple that. At least.”

Kocho’s dark eyes went wide and her antenna snapped straight up. “Ah. Got it.”

“That is,” Izumi began, raising a hand as though to object. She paused, as if unsure. She did like magna, Chihiro recalled, but couldn’t remember if she’d read that one. Izumi looked over to Kirishima-Bakugo, who gave her a shrug. “Not entirely inaccurate.”

“So Kocho,” Ojiro began. She was wearing flowers in her hair again, the only other indication other than a slight ripple in the water around her body, of where she was. “As the newest member of the class, we have a lot of questions. Like, are you seeing anybody? The gossip mill demands to know!”

“Perhaps give her a little space before interrogating her, Ojiro?” Koda suggested. “Or at least on asking something so personal?”

“It’s fine,” Kocho said, waving a hand. “I’m single, Ojiro. Not really looking either.”

“Okay, so that’s means it’s just me, Iida, and Mineta who have boyfriends?” Ojiro asked. “How is this possible? Are none of you interested in guys?!”

Ugh, no, she really did not need to hear this. Chihiro wondered if she could hold her breath and go underwater long enough for Ojiro to stop talking. She already had spent way too much time thinking about the fact that Monoma had kissed her. Not that any of the rest of the girls knew, but she really didn’t need Ojiro finding out about it. She’d never hear the end of it. She absolutely did not need the invisible girl “shipping” her with Monoma. She didn’t like him, even if she’d ended up feeling sorry for him, and he didn’t like her, and yet…

She hadn’t exactly hated it either.

So of course running away to a tropical vacation had been the perfect way to avoid having to talk to him about it.

“You do get there’s more than just being interested in boys, don’t you, Ghosty?” Kirishima-Bakugo growled.

“She’s right,” Mika said, rising up out of the water enough to count on her fingers. “Wow. There’s something I never thought I’d say. There’s also being interested in girls. And non-binary people. And non-gender identifying people and…”

“Not the point I was making, Horse-Girl.”

“But she’s right!” Ojiro said. “I’m open to the gossip mill of all relationships! I do not discriminate gossip on the basis of sexuality!” There was a slight shift in the water, as though she was leaning forward. “So you all better tell me if you get into a relationship! Not like that relationship hiding hunk Shoji!”

Wait, what? Like just about anyone attracted to male and possessing a pulse, Chihiro admitted that Shoji was obscenely attractive. Muscles for days, surprisingly soft features, great hair… But he kept to himself and she hadn’t had any idea about this!

“What?!” Mika shouted, her eyes wide. “Nooooo! I was slowly wearing down his resistance! By graduation, I’d have been all over the Shoji train!”

“No, you weren’t” Chihiro snapped. Some days, Mika was just flat out exhausting. She was absolutely her best friend in the world, but sometimes… “And you already have a giant boyfriend! You don’t need two!”

Mika laughed as she leaned back in the water. “Oh, I’m definitely too much woman for just one partner.” Chihiro didn’t dignify that with a response.

“He does!” Ojiro said, clapping happily. “Her name’s Emiko and she’s really cute!”

“He does enjoy his privacy,” Tokoyami said. Frog Shadow was bobbing contentedly in the water next to her. “But I am happy for him.” She didn’t sound entirely convincing to Chihiro’s ears.

“You’re just sad it wasn’t you!” Frog-Shadow offered, eyes snapping open.

“I am not…” Tokoyami started, her voice warbling. The feathers on her head were starting to stand up and Chihiro could swear she saw a little blush under them. Her hands flew to her beak. “Qui… quiet you!”

“You can’t silence me when I’m right!” Frog-Shadow declared, before Tokoyami shoved her under the water. She kicked and fought and bubbles churned, but Tokoyami didn’t let her back up until she’d calmed down.

Koda tapped a rocky hand on her chin, a faraway look in her eyes. “Good for him,” she said softly. “Shoji is a kind soul and deserves the happiness.” Mika had said she was having some body image and confidence issues lately. Of course, Mika had also said she’s had a plan to rectify that. As someone who’d let herself be talked into more than one harebrained scheme, she had a pretty dim view of Mika’s plans.

It was only then that she noticed Kirishima-Bakugo had her eyes closed and her hands over her ears. Slowly, she pulled her hands back. “Are they done talking yet, Iz? I can’t tell.”

“I am uncertain,” Izumi said. She turned back to the group and asked, diplomatically. “Will this be going on much longer?” A smile tugged at her lips, obviously amused by, if not particularly invested in the discussion.

“Maybe?” Mika said. “All in favor of talking about Shoji more?”

Even Izumi started to raise a hand at that. Kirishima-Bakugo gave her a wide eyed stare of betrayal.

“What?” Izumi said. “Even if I am not interested in him romantically or sexually, he is very aesthetically pleasing.”

Kirishima-Bakugo crossed her arms and closed her eyes again. “…Yeah, okay, he is.”

“…did she just admit to an interesting in something other than violence?” Ojiro asked. “Isn’t that a sign of the apocalypse?”

“I’m on vacation, so pretend I growled at you and threated you with explosive death,” Kirishima-Bakugo said.

No, Chihiro was still pretty sure that the sign of the apocalypse had been Monoma kissing her, but weren’t signs supposed to come in threes…?

“Okay,” Ojiro said, “we’re all agreed. Everybody’s attracted to Shoji. But since he’s off the table, who else are we crushing on? What about you, Kaminari? Any guys got your eye?”

“Definitely not Monoma!” she said quickly. She needed to dispel any idea about that as quickly and loudly as possible.

“We… didn’t mention Monoma,” Ojiro said.

…crap.

***

“Chihiro, you open this door this minute!” Mika shouted, pounding heavily on the door of her friend’s hotel room with her first.

“Go away, Mika!” Chihiro snapped from within.

“I can wait all day, Chi.” Mika crossed her arms. “You bolted out of there like you were on fire.” After mentioning Shiro. Which was kind of her fault. And by kind of, she meant completely. She’d messed that one up by several degrees of magnitude. But Chi hadn’t said anything about it to her, so she’d hoped it would all die down and she could go back to trying to convince Shiro to date Akaya instead.

Not that she didn’t want the best for Chihiro of course. She was her best friend. And she knew Shiro better than just about anyone; he really was a good guy under some of that bluster. Probably her best friend after Chihiro, come to think of it, on top of being her ex.

“Look, you want to talk about it?” she asked. “Or I can get Akaya or Torodoki or, I dunno, Tokoyami?” …Probably not Akaya, actually. That conversation might lead down roads she did not want to travel.

No answer this time. Also not a good sign.

Mika pounded on the door one more time. “Chi… can we talk? Please. This is actually important. About Shiro.”

The door opened a crack, revealing a glaring Chihiro. Sparks danced on the ends of her Cords. Not a good sign. But she stepped back enough to let Mika in, then flopped down on the bed.

“I know, I know, I made a total idiot out of myself back there,” she wailed, staring up at the ceiling. “I just let everybody know I maybe kind of have some kind of crush thing going on for Monoma.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Mika said.

“Of course it is! He’s… he’s such a…” Chihiro made gestures in the air, which were copied by her Cords. “He’s Monoma! The guy who thinks he’s our hated rival! With that stupid smug face and perfect hair! And now that Ojiro knows it, the whole world probably already knows!”

“She said she wouldn’t,” Mika assured her, coming to stand near the bed. “I think she was too stunned to make much sense of it anyway. And it’s not like anybody knows he kissed you.”

Chihiro sat up so fast Mika was pretty sure she’d broken the sound barrier. “How do you know about that?”

Oops.

“Well, you see,” Mika began.

Before she could get any further, Chihiro interrupted her. “I swear, if the next words out of your mouth are “I can explain,” I will tase the shit out of you. Because I have been trying to make sense of this ever since it happened and if I find out you had something to do it with…”

Well, that would definitely explain the moodiness and irritability. She’d been ready to blame it on something else entirely. “Can I at least sit down?” she asked.

Chihiro shrugged and scooted over on the edge of the bed to make room. Mika took the seat, but gave her a bit of space. “Okay, so I can explain—don’ttaseme!” She flinched, but all Chihiro did was give her an eyeroll.

“So after the Internships, Shiro was feeling pretty depressed. He was going to quit, as soon as exams were over. Big blow to his confidence, but not really my story to spill.”

“Yeah, he told me that,” Chihiro said.

“And you remember Akaya was feeling pretty depressed too, after some of the stuff that happened during her Iinternship, with those mutant-prejudiced assholes.”

“Dumbasses.”

Mika nodded her agreement. People could be real asses sometimes. And somebody as sweet and innocent as Akaya definitely didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. “But anyway, she was feeling real down about herself and her appearance. So I had a couple of friends who were both feeling depressed and I ended up working on a plan with Anime that would help both of them…”

Chihiro buried her face in her hands. “Mika, Fukidashi is the one person the planet with worse plans than you! I’m not sure she can actually tell the difference between fiction and reality.”

It didn’t look like Chihiro had put all the pieces together yet. Crap. That meant she’d have to explain more.

“Sooo,” she went on, “I sent him a text after the exams saying a ‘mutual acquaintance’ was feeling down and maybe he’d like to come by and cheer her up.” She sucked in a breath. Chi may have doubted her own intelligence at times, but this wasn’t going to take much to figure out.

Chihiro frowned. “And there I was when he showed up, depressed as hell because I nearly caused us to flunk. I thought he was acting funny! Even for him! No wonder! He probably thought you meant me!”

Before Mika could blink, Chihiro’s Cords shot out, less than a couple centimeters from her face. No sparks, thankfully, but that could change in an instant. “Did. You. Tell. Him. To. Kiss. Her?!”

“Absolutely not,” Mika said. “He came up with that on his own. I think you really gave him a breakthrough, Chi.”

Chihiro sagged, her Cords drooping, letting go of some of that agitation. “What am I going to do, Mika?”

“Well, he did say he was maybe going to ask you out…”

“What?” Chihiro’s head snapped back up again.

“Give him a shot,” Mika said. “He’s really not nearly as bad a guy as most people think he is. He’s just… a lot.” She gestured at her chest. “But he liked me even before these came in, so he’s obviously not just in it for the physical stuff.”

She opted not to mention that there’d been an intermediate phase where Shiro had been hung up on Kirishima-Bakugo. Like Granny always said, sometimes, maybe don’t kick the rattler’s den.

“Ugh, but he’s so… him! With his stupid blue eyes and stupid fancy hair and stupid little smile…”

Yeah, okay, Chihiro had it bad.

“Look,” Mika said, “date him. Or don’t. That’s your decision. But you gotta stop worrying about what people will think about it. You think I worry about stuff like that?”

That, at last, got a laugh. “No, but you’re shameless.”

“One of my many talents.”

Chihiro shook her head. “Yeah, well… maybe I’ll wait and see what he does.”

“Bonus, if you do date him, I can tell you alllll kinds of secrets.”

“You two were tweens when you dated! How do you have secrets on him?”

“Because he’s still one of my friends and I still know how to get him flustered.”

She shook her head again. “Going to need you to be straight with me, Mika.”

“I think you and I both know how much I cannot do that, Chi.”

That got an actual smile out of her friend, which meant it had worked. “Not what I meant and you know it, Mika,” Chihiro said. “You’d really be okay with me dating your ex?”

It was a good question. They were two of her best friends. But she didn’t harbor any particular plans to get back together with Shiro. Being “just friends” with a guy was actually kind of nice. Not that she’d admit that to anyone. And not that she’d object if he wanted to get back together or even just get a little frisky, of course…

“Look,” Mika said, “I’ve got a buffet table out there. And one of the most gorgeous hunks of man on the planet. So if you wanna shack up with Shiro, be my guest.”

Chihiro went red. “Look, just because you’re that fast..!”

Mika laughed. “Relax, Chi. But be my guest. Sounds like you guys kind of connected. I’m happy for you, if it works out.”

Chi smiled at that, and Mika finally felt a little relief. “Thanks, Mika.”

Of course, now she needed a new plan to help Akaya. Maybe she could just bite the bullet and shove her and Aoyama in a closet until Frenchie expressed his super-obvious feelings…

Chihiro poked her with a Cord. “You’ve plotting again. Stop that.”

“No.”

“We were having a nice moment and now you’re back to being impossible. Why are you like this?”

“Just lucky, I guess.”

***

The sun was low in the sky when Class 1-A returned to the beach, this time gathering around a bonfire. Todoroki had volunteered to simply start it with her Quirk, but Kirishima-Bakugo had declared that “cheating” and had proceeded to start one by hand. For someone who was so angry with everyone else, she was surprisingly soft when it came to Todoroki. Koharu wondered if there was some kind of history or something there. At the hot spring, Todoroki had basically said she wasn’t interested in romance or sex, so it probably wasn’t anything like that, but…

Together, they made a big ring around the fire, the flames crackling red-orange in the darkening sky. She liked twilight, when the day gave way to the night, starting to bring things to a close. Koharu’s Moth Quirk actually have her excellent night vision, though she didn’t have the problems with bright lights that some of her family did. She had a cousin that was pretty much blind for anywhere up to a half hour after somebody turned on the lights.

The others were already starting to sit together in what she was learning were some of the usual pairs and groups, most of them talking animatedly. Midoriya was sitting with his girlfriend, Sora Iida. Next to them were Shinso, Tokoyami and Frog-Shadow, and Shoji. Then there was Todoroki and Kirishima-Bakugo, Shoji, Aoyama, and Koda, and Mineta and Kaminari. After that, there was Ojiro, Sero, and Sato. She took a seat next to them, with Haimawari on her left completing the circle.

“Having fun?” Haimawari asked.

She nodded. “I am. I was a little nervous about coming along. I mean, I’ve only known Ojiro and her friends for a few weeks, and you and Midoriya for a little less than that, so I don’t really know if I feel like I belong here yet… But everybody’s been really nice and welcoming.”

Haimawari smiled and nodded. “Yeah,” he agreed. “They’re like that. I was the same way, you know, when we started. They all knew each other, and there I was, the new guy moving into the dorms and being in class with them. But Midoriya reached out to me and made sure I was included. Him, Tokoyami, Izumi, and Shinso. The first friends I had here.”

For a moment, Koharu’s thoughts drifted back to her General Education classmates, especially her best friends, Mogura and Tokuda. She wouldn’t be living with them anymore and would have different classes. It would make it harder to find time to get together, though not impossible. But she definitely didn’t want them to drift apart. They’d surely understand the differing demands of the Hero Course, but she knew they’d be hurt if they thought she was forgetting about them.

Maybe she ought to try and do something to bring her old class and new class together.

“Trust me,” Haimawari assured her. “Before you know it, it’ll be like you’ve been here since day one.”

“I sure hope so,” she said.

“You will,” he said. “Trust me. They’ve got history. But now that you’re here with us? You’ve got future. And that’ll turn into history.”

He made a good point, she had to admit.

“Hey, look, Kocho,” Sero said, leaning over to show her his phone. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt with a pattern that made her eyes hurt just to look at. His phone was open to a Viewtube page, showing Sato’s earlier recording of his cannonball and subsequent Ojiro-induced smacking. It had been titled “Cannon-Fail.”

“Eighty thousand hits and counting!” Sero told her, grinning.

“So you dropping out of the sky and Ojiro beating the stuffing out of you is hit worthy?” she asked.

“Oh yeah! Kimiko yelling and hitting things rates really high with our subscribers. Hope nobody’s getting off on it though…”

Koharu blinked slowly. “I do not get internet fame.”

Sero just laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m an expert at this. Stick with us, we’ll make you a star!”

Before she could make a counter argument to that, Shinso piped up. “Oh! Oh! Kaminari! Are you going to play? Are you?” The short boy was practically bouncing with excitement. “Pleeeeeaaasseee?”

Kaminari had indeed brought a case of some kind with her, what looked like some kind of small, guitar-ish instrument. She opened it up and Koharu realized it was a ukulele. She knew the electric girl’s mother was a musician on top of being a Hero, but hadn’t realized that she played too. She still had a lot to learn about her new classmates!

“Only because you asked so nice, Shinso,” Kaminari said. She strummed a few chords and made a few minor adjustments to the instrument before she started to play. “So this one goes out to all of us, for passing our exams, for surviving our Internships, for making it through the first term. To our Sports Festival winners. To old friends and new friends. And to our hero academia.”

“Hero too, I am a hero too

My heart is set and I won't back down

Hero too, strength doesn’t make a hero

True heroes stand up for what they believe

So wait and see

So wait and see…”

#their hero academia #my hero academia #fan fiction #fan fic #my writing #toshi midoriya #isamu haimawari #mika (tha)#chihiro kaminari #Koharu Kocho

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casualcatte · 4 years

Text

RP Journal: 08/12/2020

Lorrendor finally found the courage to see me, right before dinner. Gods, just hearing his voice filled me with indignant rage, recalling the pathetic excuse of a letter he’d sent. I couldn’t help myself, I picked up the sandwich I’d just made and threw it at him. I kept throwing things at him, whatever came to hand -- which seemed to mostly be produce. After all, throwing rocks at make-believe Bridge-Lorrendor had helped me to feel better, surely throwing fruit and vegetables at the real one would help, too, right?

(Courtesy cut for length because these are never short!)

My rage didn’t last near long enough, though. Just thinking about Tristane and the way Lorrendor had used him against me caused that same upwelling of pain and grief. Lorrendor was… sadly Lorrendor. Apologetic, self-deprecating, like he was trying to say all the things he thought I wanted to hear. He offered nothing to explain himself.

So, I asked him why he did it and what he wanted. He said he wanted to be my friend again. His reasoning for his actions? Because sometimes people will do anything to protect those they care for. How in heaven’s name is using Tristane against me /protecting/ me? Why can’t I get him to understand that I don’t /want/ to be protected. He constantly says that it’s his nature, like I just have to accept that and deal. But what about /my/ nature?

If he wants to protect me from something, he should start with himself, because no matter how hurt I get on the Hunt I always heal. Tristane… Tris is not something I can magically heal. And it hurts ten times worse when people I consider friends use him against me to prove a point. He still never really answered why. Why he thought it was okay to use Tris like that. I’m not sure he’ll ever honestly answer the question, because he knows he was trying to manipulate me.

He insisted that all he wanted was to be my friend and that he regretted how wrong he’d done me. I told him that we could still be friends, but that I could never again trust him as I did. And he could never mention Tristane again. That’s one part of my life that is now off-limits to him. I will never discuss Tris or my feelings about him with Lorrendor again.

During the latter half of this discussion Edgard squeaked his way into the room. Being less… Edgardy, but still Edgard. He made the occasional quip, mostly at me, but generally minded his manners. Bit weird, though, offering to share his silk underwear with Lorrendor. Apparently armor chafes and that’s the cure. Silk underwear. Not much for swimming in, though, given what I saw at the hot springs last night. Either that or Mu-Onna /really/ didn’t interest him.

Once things were more or less settled, everybody had a sandwich. For a moment, it reminded me of the night in Kugane when the two of them drank sochu and I pigged out on dumplings. It was nice and the company was welcome. I hope to have more nights like these and fewer nights spent fighting. We shared a bit of our hunting exploits with Lorrendor, but Edgard soon had to leave to prepare for his return to Ishgard. I certainly hoped he wouldn’t be leaving just yet. I still needed to say good-bye.

I spoke with Lorrendor a while longer and, for some reason, I felt like I would always have to prove myself to him. To prove that I’m competent and capable, not some foolish, headstrong glory-hound that rushes headlong into battle simply for the thrill of it. That’s not who I am either. I plan ahead, I hunt prepared, I play to my strengths. It’s why I don’t /need/ protecting. Protecting just messes with the plan. Protecting doesn’t play to my strengths.

He says he knows I’m capable, that I’m supposedly a better hunter than he is. Yet, he won’t stop bringing up that “bad things happen” as if I don’t know that. /Me./ Of course I know bad things happen. I /watched/ bad things happen as Tristane bled out in my lap. I’m not stupid or reckless, but I’m not going to live my life in fear of “what if” either. If the Twelve decide it’s my day to die, then no amount of protecting or over protectiveness is going to stop them, now is it?

Imagine my surprise when Lorrendor brought forth some research he’d done concerning The Saurotaun. I could hardly believe that his search had found anything of note. Or that he’d be so forthcoming with it given our current state of affairs. I’m sure it was meant as a peace offering, so I took it for what it was.

The Saurotaun, according to his notes, was a construct dating back to the War of the Magi. I couldn’t believe it, every accounting had made it out to be some kind of beast, but a construct made more sense. If it was some kind of magical creature, the hunting party it slaughtered, including my parents, may not have known how best to fight it. Gods, this gave me hope. I’d need more information, of course, but it was more than I’d learned in moons!

He went on to tell me of a sighting in Coerthas near the Convictory. Something about a giant six fulm long footprint as something attacked one of the yaks out there. It apparently tears apart its prey en route, though I’m not sure why. My first thought that it was just a particularly vicious Dravanian; they grew that big, but the habits didn’t seem in line with them. I’d have to ask Edgard what he knows about dragons. I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high, I’d followed rumors of sightings before only to have them come up for naught.

Even after all I’d said and done to him, he still gave me this sprig of hope when he didn’t have to. He could’ve kept it to himself or not done it at all. He endured my wrath and yet still gave me this gift. Even if it turns out to be nothing, I’m still grateful that he tried. It made me feel somewhat bad for my anger and my temper. I know I’m not what a good friend should be. I made it a point to apologize and thank him for what he’d given me. We’d probably never have the same friendship we had before, but we could at least start over on the right foot.

Not long after, Lorrendor left to return to Ul’dah. And /I/ went to soak in the hot springs. I had a lot to do before I left for Ishgard, so it was probably the last chance I’d have to feel well and truly warm before freezing my beautiful tail off in Coerthas.

I was soon joined by Edgard, of course, but since I owed him a trip to the hot springs I didn’t mind. I’d brought his gift with me anyway, so it was all well and good. Naturally, he seemed more than eager to join me in the water. I swear, that man can be such an idiot sometimes, a right damnable fool.

It took him no time at all to start into his idle flirtations, but I gave as good as I got. So, I’ll just put it to record here that Edgard is my worshiper now and he keeps a shrine in his inn room dedicated to me. Clearly, he’s head over heels for me. He just won’t admit it.

Okay, I can’t even write that with a straight face. How does /he/ do it all the time? He went on to say that he was leaving for Ishgard in the morning and that if I wanted to say farewell to him or give him a good-bye kiss, it had to be tonight. I told him that I had a gift for him. While it wasn’t /quite/ as exciting as a kiss, it would have to do.

The item I commissioned was a feathered hair ornament built from one feather from each Twintail we’d taken captive. It was woven into some leather ties, accompanied by beads and small, glittering gems in blue, purple, and white. Silver discs bearing the date of the hunt in elaborate runes swung just beneath the clasp at the top, so that they would chime together like wind chimes whenever he moved -- If he deigned to wear them, that is. By design, they are meant to be woven into the hair, but can be worn on a cloak clasp, or attached to a pack. The possibilities were endless, really.

Edgard chose to have it woven into his hair, but confessed he had no idea how. So, after asking his permission to touch his snowy tresses, I demonstrated how to braid it in. His hair was so soft, like touching the finest silk, and smelled faintly of lavender. Not what I would’ve expected. I would’ve expected something manly and musky, but no, it’s something soft and soothing. Curious.

I spoke to him about his upbringing and he teased me about parts of it. While I was braiding his hair, I noticed that he’d twitch a bit every time my hand brushed the side of his neck. Ticklish! Naturally, I had to exploit this newfound weakness as punishment for picking on me. So I did. He countered by splashing me with water, which I fully deserved. He also said I could take advantage of him fully if I wanted, if I was going to exploit his ticklish spots.

I went to caress his jaw and flirtingly tease him about being unable to handle being fully taken advantage of -- but he took my hand in both of his and gave me this alluring look as he confessed that he’d take it slow for me. I know he’s just being Edgard, flirting to see what kind of reaction he’d get out of me. For a moment, though, I felt my heart race and my ears flutter nervously. I don’t even know /why/. He’s not serious about anything and neither am I. There was /nothing/ to get nervous about.

He told me how much he enjoyed the hunt, how he hadn’t had that much excitement since the war. I was honestly glad to hear it. What excitement could I possibly offer someone who hunted /dragons/ for a living? I told him I planned to pick up another, probably somewhere in Dravania if I could manage it, since we’d be in Ishgard. He countered that I didn’t have to look so agitated when I asked him, pointing at my ears. Gah, damn traitors!

I just wasn’t certain he’d want to go with me again. Perhaps he finds I’m too reckless for his tastes or that I’m not as amiable company. He’s said a number of times that I’m a different person out there. Maybe he doesn’t like the Huntress and prefers the City-Catte.

He went on to say that he couldn’t wait to go on another hunt, which gave me a strange sense of relief. It felt nice to be accepted for who I really was. Not everyone can. I’m a bright, independent huntress with skill and experience to rival most adventurers in the field. Edgard gets that and, on the hunt, he respected it. He followed my lead and only really questioned me when I put him to the true test in front of the male bi-fang.

I wanted to see what he’d do. Would he leap in to protect me or would he trust my judgement? I’ve seen how he can move, it would’ve been an easy thing for him to jump in there and snatch me out of the bi-fang’s hunting stoop. He didn’t, though, even though I could tell it worried him. I was both proud and grateful to him for that. I spoke volumes for his character and how he regarded me.

I told him that if he “beat” me in a hunt -- which is never going to happen -- he could have any prize he wanted, short of sleeping with me. It’s Edgard, of course that’s the first thing he’d ask for. I admit -- I wasn’t prepared for what he /did/ ask for. He asked me to play the guitar for him.

I haven’t played for anyone else since Tristane, so the request took me by surprise. I must’ve looked… offended or something because Edgard suddenly got up and said I could choose something else. I quickly put that train of thought to rest by telling him the truth of it, which he understood. I did promise him that I’d play.

He thanked me for making his time in Kugane “not so bad” which I’m sure is Edgard-speak for “absolutely perfect” I can read between his lines, it’s fine. We bade each other farewell and promised to see one another in Ishgard.

Now, see, Beaumonts? /That’s/ how you bid someone good-bye. Take note.

Mentions @therpperson for Edgard Beaumont And a bunch of other people who don’t have Tumblr!

#Journal: Rhythm of the Night #Aultena Sephimiri #FFXIV #FFXIV RP #FFXIV Roleplay #Balmung RP #Balmung Roleplay #Balmung Roleplayer #Crystal RP #Crystal Roleplay #Crystal Roleplayer #Character Journal #Lorrendor Hauland #Friendship: Elf-Dad #Edgard Beaumont #Friendship: Pathfinder

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