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shushiyuii · 3 years ago

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Here is a writing request! I hope you have fun with it! You can put noms in if you want to! :D : Giant warden hybrid Wilbur lives very deep underground and is very lonely. He meets a lost avian hybrid named Phil and decides to help him out of the cave system. When they get out Wilbur is sad that Phil has to go. Phil then decides its time to adopt another child and brings Wil with him home to a surprised Techno and Tommy.

AAAAAA I LOVE THIS SO MUCH! THANK YOU ANON! I DID HAVE A LOT OF FUN WITH IT and may also have gone a bit crazy with it? lol

(I didn't include Nom's in this story but if you ever wish for a part two with noms or anything i'd be more than happy too!)

Warnings: Injury, (Maybe some heavy subjects such as a child being lonely)

Words: 2.6K+

He doesn’t remember his younger days; he honestly couldn’t be sure who he was or how he even came into existence. One thing for sure was sounds, the tapping of a spider’s legs, creepers occasional hissing, skeleton’s bones rattling and a zombie’s growls.

It was always so dark, he’d seen the light of lava, sometimes even the light of day but the sky was always so high, so out of reach. And he couldn’t quite fit into the cave systems to find a way, so he was stuck.

He’s alone, he hates it. It’s too dark.

…

Phil flew high above the clouds in laughter, it’d been a while since he’d gone out on an adventure. Well, if you counted a much-needed mining trip of coal, iron, and such. But it was nice to be out of the house for once, especially with the kids out of the way.

Not in a bad sense though, he loved his kids but sometimes things were so busy he couldn’t keep track of things. Raising a toddler and a somewhat crazy child is well chaotic.

His two kids, Techno and Tommy. Techno had been adopted by Phil a bit early on, when Phil first met his now-wife, Kristin. He found Techno on the streets of a village, trying to fend off bandits. Phil’s fatherly instincts kicked in, a thing he’d always had and couldn’t help but take the boy in. Much to his reluctance.

Techno grew up with Phil and is now a very healthy and happy 11-year-old, and then there’s Tommy. The most recent member of the family, his little bundle of joy of about 3 years old, Techno found it odd being an older brother, he still does but he copes.

The feeling of his feathers swaying, his hair blowing, him having to attempt to keep his hat on every second, he missed this feeling. He was glad he just managed to find a babysitter since their mother was currently out on ‘business terms’.

…

The vibrant blue sky, below the loving shades of green passing with every flap of his wings. He wondered if his wife was watching over him, with her being a god and all.

He was happy how life was currently going as of late, he only hoped that fate had a good future ahead of him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts as he finally arrived at the destination. He had been well prepared for this trip; it was a mine that he’d been wanting to adventure for ever so long. He could tell there was something about it, something special.

And judging by the vibrant minerals just shining from the sunlight of the entrance, something told him there was more than just iron and coal in this cave, perhaps something more valuable, diamonds.

…

He wasn’t sure how long it’d been, but it had been a long time, he had quite a bit of iron, coal. But not only that gold and emeralds, a valuable currency. He wouldn’t have to worry about mining with the number of minerals he now had. Not only that but diamonds could be used to create powerful weapons.

He knew Techno would be happy, he’d always loved shiny things. Probably due to his Piglin features. And he could make Kristin some beautiful jewellery. It made him happy to say that his family was going to be good for a good while.

…

He picked up different noises, it was odd to hear such things. He could hear strange padding noises, perhaps some creature moving? Not only that but he heard the breaking of stone, which was a rare sound in his caves.

It was somewhat crazy to think something else could be coming closer to him, to hurt him. He knew he was strong not he didn’t even know If he was as strong as the outside monsters.

He wasn’t sure how he came to be in this world, he was always so alone. But sometimes the vines would speak to him, telling him of things like a place called the surface, which was colourful and bright.

…

The breaking of stone could be heard again, it only got louder and louder every minute. Whatever was making those sounds had found him and was coming for him. His antennae twitched anxiously; he was scared he didn’t want to die.

His claws bared as he readied his sharp teeth, he scanned for wherever the sound was coming from and waited to attack.

…

He panted as he broke at the stone, it’d been a while since he’d done so much mining, he was much out of shape. He had no idea where he currently was, he was long lost in this cave with no way of finding his way back. Despite the torches, he had no lead to where he came.

He was now trying to mine into the walls, hoping to find another branch of the cave that would finally lead him to a way to the surface. After the struggles of breaking through the wall for however long, he finally found another branch of the cave.

Big mistake as the first step he took into this cave, there was a loud crashing sound. Something had tried to hurt him, and he barely dodged it, the ceiling of the cave barely supported the impact, rubble falling from the ceiling.

He readied his sword for battle as he ran to behind a rock for cover. Something that caused that impact was definitely big, like strangely big. Not only that but the cave was one of the darkest caves he’d ever seen, the only light being from his torch.

He had no idea of where if he was honest, he couldn’t even tell if he was hiding properly. Anything could creep upon him at the current moment, it was oddly quiet, the only sound being his heartbeat.

…

He heard a strange growl behind him, it scared him with how deep and shallow it sounded, definitely a monster. Hesitantly he turned to the right, and right there was the monster staring right at him. But the monster flinched back when Phil turned around, the bright light in the monster’s face.

It seemed to hurt its eyes as he held his eyes and stumbled back in pain, from what he saw he saw about four eyes, antennae, and dark greenish-blue skin, with some light green bioluminescence that reacted to light. It appeared to be a Warden, a creature Phil had read about.

A creature of great mystery, one that mostly relied on sound, one that could communicate with plants. It was an odd creature, but the thing is about this Warden. It had a set of hair, not only that but it looked a lot more humanoid than what he’d seen drawn of the creatures.

It looked rather young too… No! No fatherly instincts! Monster?...

…

He winced in pain and stepped back from the strange being, he hadn’t seen light in quite some time. This thing was nothing like he’d ever before. He had never seen such a strange light. It hurt. This thing was strong if the creature had that then it could definitely kill him.

It came prepared.

“Hello?” it spoke. His eyes dilated as he scanned for the light, he saw it move around. He could see the creature’s confused features. It seemed almost scared itself, not only that but concerned. Something he wasn’t quite familiar with.

He was surprised by the fact that he could understand the creature, it was an oddly familiar language. “Hello?”, he replied with hesitance. He was scared that the monster’s features would change, and the creature would attack him.

“Oh! You talk? Good, because I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding!”. The creature made a strange sound, but seemed relieved and happy? Laughter?

“Sorry about the light, I didn’t realise it’d hurt you, my name is Phil. How about you?”

“What’s a name?”

“Oh? You don’t have one, well I guess a way to describe it would be a sort of title, something people can call you to identify you from others!”.

“… I don’t have one?”.

…

The creature- Phil had come closer, more friendly than before. No weapons, a smile. The once bright light is now dim, more adjustable.

“Well, if you don’t have a name. How about we give you one?”.

“Okay…”.

“Hmm… You look like a.. A Wilbur!”.

“Wilbur?”.

“That’s your name! Wilbur! Do you like it”.

“It sounds nice. I like it!”.

A name? It sounded nice, it made him feel unique, different from others…

…

“Well, Wilbur. Do you think you could help me?”, “How?”. “Well, you see I’m kind of stuck here. I don’t know my way out.”.

“Where do you want to go?”, “The surface.”.

…

“The surface?”, “Yeah! I need to get home!”. “Home?”, “Yeah, it’s where I live with my family!”, “Family?”, “A group of people who are very important to me, I have to get home or my sons, I don’t know what will happen.”, “Okay. I’ll help.”.

Wilbur lent his hand, confused Phil just stared at it. But Wilbur just ended up scooping up Phil and standing up, wandering through the caves.

“So, you live in these caves?”, “Mhm”, “Aren’t you lonely?”, “… Yeah…”.

“How old are you?”, “I don’t know, they say I’m a youngling…”.

…

Phil’s fatherly instincts kicked in, a kid on his own in a fucking cave system? No fucking way. He had no choice; his mind was already made up. This kid was now his, he now wanted nothing more than to smother this boy in the love he never had, care for Wilbur. Like how he met Techno.

The two ventured the caves for a while, surprisingly no mobs. The two at this point had spoken for a while and gotten to know each other a small bit, Wilbur seemed fairly interested in his family too! So, it made him happy to think that he’d achieved a new son!

But he spoke a little too soon, a loud bang frightened Wilbur. Wilbur jumped back and dropped Phil from a height. Phil landed with an oof and looked back at Wilbur who was now crouching in fear, immediately he ran over to comfort the boy despite his aching leg.

“Hey, hey. Wil, it’s alright, it was just a creeper.”. He ran his hand over the boy’s own hand, “I-I, it was loud...”, “I know, I know. But it’s okay! It’s not gonna hurt you anymore mate! I’ll protect you!”.

…

He released his hold on his eyes and looked down to Phil… Protect? As in guard him? Phil’s eyes were enough to reassure him, it brought him comfort despite the small time of knowing him, he’d never known such a kind person before.

He picked up on a sound, the tugging of string. Phil didn’t seem to hear it as he was concentrating on him. He looked back to see a skeleton aiming an arrow at Phil. Scared, he quickly brought Phil to his chest as the skeleton shot the arrow.

Phil screamed but immediately calmed as he heard the arrow hit the ground, realizing that Wilbur had only been protecting him. He smiled and looked back furiously at the skeleton.

He reached for his sword and despite his aching leg, wiggled out of Wilbur’s hold and sliced the skeleton in half, its remains turning to dust and bones. He looked back to Wilbur, “You okay, mate?”.

“I’m fine! How about you? You’re walking differently.”. “Ah, I’m fine mate. My leg just hurts a bit!”. “Hurts? As in pain?”, “Yeah? Wh-“.

Phil was cut off when Wilbur brought him back to his chest, standing up and continuing their adventure to the surface. Being sure Phil was secure in his hold, not wanting to bring any more pain to this man.

…

A bright light could be seen in the distance, “Hey Wil! I think that’s the surface!”. Wilbur looked over in the direction of the light, he winced slightly but his eyes adjusted as he made way to the light.

Once they were outside, Phil took a good breath of fresh air. Wilbur copied, confused as to why and surprised with how fresh the air felt in his lungs. It was refreshing.

“Wil! We’re outside! Thank you so much!”

“It’s nothing but…”

“Hmm, what’s wrong?”.

“Where do I go now?...”

“We can go to my place if you want, you can meet Tommy and stuff.”.

“Really?”.

“Of course, Wilbur!”.

Phil then flew upwards and directed Wilbur to follow him, along the way Wilbur would get distracted by the views and greenery. Phil was more than happy to wait for the boy.

Now that he thought about it, he had a clearer view of Wilbur, who was definitely a lot more humanoid than he first thought, perhaps he was a hybrid of sorts? Only time could tell.

But at the break of dawn, Phil arrived home as was greeted by a worried Technoblade running towards him, a Tommy trying to follow behind him, wanting his father’s hold.

“Techno! Tommy! Are you guys okay?”. “Dad! Where have you been?”.

The worried words of his son and the rambling of his toddler were enough to make him scoop them up in his arms and cover them in kisses. Which seemed to cheer the two up.

But all hell broke loose when Techno stared up at Wilbur, he stood in front of Phil to protect him. “Who are you?!”, “Techno! Calm down! This is Wilbur! Your brother!”, “Brother?! Really Dad?!”, “Yes really”.

…

Despite the reluctance, Techno grew used to his new sibling, so did Tommy who seemed to really like Wilbur. Not only that but Kristin was more than happy to have Wilbur adopted into the family, and that’s how Wilbur joined the family.

… Bonus …

“Bitch!”

“Oi, don’t use those words, Tommy!”.

Tommy was now about 5 years old, a very clingy 5-year-old. One who never left Wilbur alone, not that Wilbur hated it, he loved his younger brother a lot. It was just sometimes he could be quite annoying.

“Wilby! I want cuddles!”. His antennae twitched as he closed his four eyes, pinching his nose to be as dramatic as possible and let out a long sigh, “Finee!” he dragged out. Tommy’s excitement as he ran to grab blankets was more than enough to make him smile.

Wilbur sat down against the wall as Tommy dragged pillows and blankets against the floor, the things being double his height and dragging behind him. Then made his way to throw the pillows at him and attempting to climb onto his lap.

He failed multiple times, “Wil! Help me!”. Finally with the help of Wilbur’s claw he adjusted and cuddled within Wilbur’s hold.

“Tell me that story again!”, “The one about the civilization and the brothers?”, “Yeah!”.

Wilbur laughed, “Okay!”.

Within 5 minutes of the story, Tommy had fallen asleep, so Wilbur changed to a simple lullaby whilst playing with his baby brothers’ hair. Something precious, something he’d always protect.

“Got room for one more?”, Techno stood there in his crowned PJs, who seemed barely functioning, his blanket and pillow dragging behind him. Usually, he’d never do such a day but today seemed to be an exception. “Of course Tech!”.

The three then fell asleep together.

…

“Awwhh! Look at them Phil!”, Kristin whispered as she peered into the room of her son’s bedroom. Phil giggled, “I know! I’m glad I have such a good family”.

Within the palm of her hand, he laid. Thankfully for them, Kristin was a giant, so the house was already pretty adaptable for Wilbur. She placed a kiss on his forehead. “Love you, hun!”, “Love you too!”.

#mcyt g/t #mcytg/t #dsmp g/t #giant!wilbur #tiny!phil #tiny!techno #tiny!tommy #giant!kristin #shushi's writings

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lovinkiri · 4 years ago

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Bone Breaker

Tenya Iida x Reader

Warning: Injury (broken bone).

Description: Reader gets hurt and worries long time crush, Tenya Iida. She can't spend Valentines with Tenya but he makes her feel special nonetheless.

Tagging: @coleluuviida

Author's Thoughts: I'm sorry if it's not very great! I finished it today to fit the theme and to get this to everyone on Valentines! I hope you have a great day! 💞💞💞

You sighed and winced, laying in the hospital bed. Not how you wanted to spend your time. If it weren't for that villian attack during your work study, you wouldn't be here. The patrol was going well until the two villians showed up. They were attempting to rob an old woman, but you wouldn't allow. So, with no heroes around to save the day, you stepped in.

You managed to get one down and hold the other back until the pros showed up. That was how you ended up with one rib broken and two fractured. Can't forget the head trauma either.

Breathing hurt a bit, and the tiniest movement sent a sharp pain. But you just wanted to go to school.

~~~~

"They aren't answering calls or texts, ribbit." Asui said with worry. The two of you were close and often texted or called on your way home. You should have been on your way by now. So why weren't answering?

Midoriya looked over in confusion. "Is it about that time already?" His head tilted slightly.

The question earned a nod from Tenya. "Yes. Y/n should have left their work study about 11 minutes ago."

Bakugou looked over with a cocky grin. "11 minutes? That's specific. Must really like them or something."

His teasing words caused Tenya to blush. He attempted to hide it by reaching up and adjusting his glasses. "I simply pay close attention to my classmates, Bakugou." He lied swiftly, though terribly. His face gave it all away.

Smirking, Bakugou looked back to the book he was studying. "Whatever you say, Glasses." He waved him away.

Tenya sighed. The relationship you two shared was a bit complicated. You knew very you liked each other. Hell, sometimes, you allowed yourselves to act like a couple. But the both of you were a bit too shy to go pass that. Instead, you chose to go with the flow of things and see where life took you.

That's when Aizawa walked in. "All of you, listen up." He spoke calmly. Even with the chatter, everyone silenced. It'd became a habit to pick out Aizawa's voice from a crowd. It was what was expected, as no one ever wanted to defy him.

"Y/n is currently being hospitalized. They were injured during their work study, broken ribs and head trauma. They will recover over time, but visiting hours are currently open. Would anyone like to go?" Aizawa watched as almost everyone stood to their feet, worry etched on their faces. "I figured. Get dressed, I'll be waiting by the front gate."

~~~~

There was a sudden knock on your door. "You have visitors." The nurse said.

"Um, send them in." You weren't expecting anyone. It was probably Aizawa. Maybe Asui. Or even Tenya.

What you didn't expect was for almost your entire class to show up. Your eyes widened at the many get well gifts they held.

"Are you okay? Ribbit." Tsuyu rushed over to you, handing you a card and a stuffed animal. You smiled down at the cushiony frog.

"I'm fine. Thank you, Tsuyu." You put a hand on her shoulder. "Everything is just a bit foggy. My ribs hurt a bit too, but nothing major. Definitely not as bad as it sounds."

Tenya walks over, already doing a chopping motion. Oh boy..

"What were you thinking? How could you be so reckless? You could have been killed!" He lectures. Rather than argue, you watch as he scolds you. The others occasionally pitch in too, but leave most of it to Tenya.

"Do you remember when you broke your arm not that long ago?" Tenya crosses his arms.

You finally decide to speak up. "Oh, I was fine. I am fine." You give a cheeky smile that puts a stop to Tenya's lectures.

Tenya sighed. "Sure you are, Bone Breaker."

From the outside, the name would come off as intimidating. But it was your own bones were you breaking.

You couldn't help but smile at the nickname though, as Tenya rarely gave out nicknames. Izuku was the only one to receive a nickname before today.

"I am, I promise." I chuckled softly, looking up at him with sweet eyes.

With one more look, Tenya took a balloon and a pillow from Izuku, thanking him for holding them. "These are from me. Some of us are missing, but that's mostly because they wouldn't let too many of us in. But we've brought their gifts."

The balloon reads "Get Well Soon" and the pillow has a sweet message sewed into it.

"Thanks, Tenya." You hold the pillow close.

You receive the rest of the gifts, happy that they cared so much. While you did feel a bit bad for worrying your classmates, you'd do it again to save that old woman if you could.

~~~~

The next few days go by quickly. You get visits from your family often. And with Tenya being the one to bring your homework, he's met them.

Your parents love him. They weren't very sure at first, but they noticed how well-mannered he was. How he seemed to have your best interest in mind.

They saw how he looked at you. Like you were the world. Especially when you smiled.

They definitely liked him.

But it didn't take long for Valentines Day to roll around. You didn't even know it was that close.

When you woke up, you were surprised to see so many gifts. Had they visited you early this morning? It made sense, as maybe some of them had plans, like Ochako and Izuku. Or Bakugou and Kirishima.

Checking your phone, you notice you'd gotten many texts, all of them sweet and detailed.

With a smile, you looked through all of your gifts. There were chocolates, balloons, stuffed animal, and many other things.

You picked up a bento box and noticed a note attached. Detaching the note, you read it:

I'm sorry I couldn't come see you today, Aizawa had us training extremely hard today. Be careful next time, then we could maybe spend the day together. I know hospital food isn't the best, so I made your favorite lunch. I don't cook very often, so it may not be the best. Please be sure to get well soon. And as I said before, be careful next, Bone Breaker.

It was signed with Iida's name. You couldn't help but smile widely. He had his own chef and he cooked it himself? Not only that, he wanted to spend next Valentines together?

Yeah. You'd be extra careful.

#tenya iida x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #tenya iida

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faunusrights · 3 years ago

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yeah, all i got is this belly button lint: a happy huntresses short fic

wrote this real quick because i love thinking about the random crap fiona has in her Inventory(tm). also i just like thinking about these clowns in general, so,

"Okay, so, what's actually in your Semblance right now?" Joanna asks one day in third year, when Fiona and May have sneaked away to Robyn's dorm to lose at cards and help edit her new batch of flyers promoting union creation in the workplace. Fiona had given a couple a look and accepted them as good enough, but May is weirdly exacting about her standards and is currently trying to convince Robyn to nudge the text headers over by ten pixels to the right. That's why, as she's sat on the floor and wrapped up in the drama of watching Robyn try and slowly fail to ignore May's insistent pleas for her to boot up her editor, Fiona's caught just a little bit off-guard by the question.

"My Semblance?" she asks, and Joanna nods all serious-like from her place on the bunk above Robyn. Joanna often looks very serious, because she suffers from what Robyn calls resting thoughtful bitch face, so sometimes it's hard to gauge how actually serious about something she really is. "I mean, it's probably a mess in there right now."

"I keep forgetting you actually use it like storage space," Robyn adds cheerfully, having now progressed onto shoving May away from her laptop computer every time she tries to creep closer. "Since most Semblances are, y'know, combat-only things or like... special occasions, I guess. And yet here you are, telling people you really don't need a bag for all your groceries!"

It is fun to flex on all the people struggling to carry like six bags to their car or their home, and Fiona preens. "Yeah, it's nice. I mostly keep things in it that I'd wanna have in an emergency, but it's been a while since I last sorted through it, so, who knows what garbage I've put in there."

"Tell me Robyn's braincell is in there too," May says imploringly, still trying to slide an arm around Robyn to get at the keyboard, but Fiona just shakes her head. She can't and won't be blamed for that particular disappearance any time soon. Instead, she rubs her hands together, scrunching up her face as she tests the edges of the Semblance. It's a funny thing, a Semblance like this--she never really has to think about it, but it's always just in reach, like this extra weight in her chest that she can totally forget about. It's strange to think about, so she often just doesn't.

"Okay," she starts, and she goes for the biggest item she can sense, which is an easy one to explain. In her hands materialises an acoustic guitar, worn and scuffed with age, and this attracts to attention of every girl in the room. "Well, this one's easy. This is my guitar, and honestly? If I ever leave it behind in the meatspace and don't pick it up on my way out the door, know that you've just seen my evil clone and you have to kill her."

Joanna blinks, and Robyn seems caught between asking about the guitar, the evil clone, and also the fact that Fiona insists on referring to the physical world as the meatspace. So, she does as Robyn does best, and settles on an expletive. "Shit! You play?"

"Been playing since I was... like seven? Something like that." Fiona shrugs, because she really can't be sure; her first vague memory of even seeing this guitar was a long time ago, her uncle telling her it used to belong to her grandmother who'd never managed to learn a damn thing on it. So, Fiona had taken up practice, if only because it was something for a little lowlands Mantellian Faunus to do during the long, cold polar nights and the endless sunshine of the midnight sun. "But, yeah, this is always on me in some form or another."

"You should've played it whilst we were on watch our last mission," May says, with a certain scowl that Fiona knows is 100% directed at their team leader, who is currently off doing... some sort of bullshit with their partner, no doubt. Gods, this team is a nightmare. "All those hours trying to stay awake so we could stare into nothing..."

"Sorry," Fiona says, and she means it. She'd intended to, but, well, she'd sort of chickened out. The echo in the mountains is kind of insane. "Next time?"

May nods, but Joanna cuts off whatever she's about to say next by waving her hands through the air like she can physically dissipate the conversation. "Okay, okay, cool, but now I gotta else you got hiding in there."

Re-compressing her guitar--and oh, is Fiona thankful that dematerialising and rematerialising it doesn't leave it out of tune--Fiona has a mental root around. "Uh, okay, so, we've got--"

In no particular order, she starts pulling things out: a pair of thick gloves for the brutal Solitas chill, an extra pair of socks (hugely understated by most, but never by Fiona), a ushanka that Robyn instantly cheers for, and a couple of jackets ranging from light windbreakers to thick furred jackets that feel like she's wearing a mattress around her ribs. Her Scroll and wallet are in there too, naturally, as are her keys and some extra ammunition, and she pulls out a load of old train tickets with a grimace. "Hm. I was meant to throw these away years ago."

"You're basically carrying around a wardrobe in there, then?" May asks in a way that'd maybe be a little teasing if she didn't look about as jealous as she sounds, but it becomes a thoughtful expression when Fiona shakes her head again.

"Bold of you to think I haven't got a whole pantry in here too," she says, and now Joanna looks very interested. "Check this out."

The first thing she pulls out is a gallon jug of clean water--endlessly fucking useful, she's found, especially when you're in some situation where you can't sit on your ass for an hour waiting for the water purification tablets to do their job--before pulling out a whole host of Atlesian MREs that she keeps around just in case shit really does hit the fan. Atlas rations are... not good, in a phrase, but she's owed them her life more than once, so, whatever.

"What dates are on those?" May quickly interrupts with a critical eye, trying to make out the printed numbers on the snow-patterned packets, and Fiona tosses her one if only to distract May's hands from trying to puzzle out Robyn's password when Robyn isn't directly paying attention.

"Things don't really degrade in my Semblance," Fiona admits. "I've tested it before on stuff with a short shelf-life, like cheese and milk, and honestly I can leave it in there for months and have it come out just as fresh as when it went in. Something to do with a sort of... internal stasis, I guess." Then, she adds, "One thing in my Semblance is a goldfish in a bowl, but he's part of a practical theory I'm running, so I can't materialise him for another fifteen years or so."

"That sounds very normal," Joanna says, and Fiona is glad she agrees as she barrels right over the inherent sarcasm.

As May agonises over finding the date, though, Fiona continues to unveil her pantry--there's plenty of snacks, like dried fruit and nuts and energy bars and chocolate, and when she reveals she carries extra for every member of her team and then some (then some in this instance being Robyn and Joanna, not that she'll admit it), Robyn looks delighted. "That's so sweet! Look at you, making sure nobody goes hungry. You're one in a million."

That's cute and very gay, but Fiona has a lot of stuff to be working through and so she keeps on going--there's a flask of coffee that, thanks to the maybe-stasis, is eternally hot, a bottle of dark Mantellian ale she keeps as, uh, moral support, and she blushes when she pulls out half an uneaten tuna sandwich. "I wondered where that went. Whoops."

May looks up from the MRE for a second, and then does a double-take as she takes in the sight of the very limp and sad-looking sandwich, made courtesy of the Atlas Academy cafeteria. "Wait! Isn't that the sandwich you accused me of stealing last month?!"

"Anyway!" Fiona says with a forced grin, quickly making it disappear back into the void where it can safely continue not existing. "I think the final thing in here is... wait."

She blinks, and suddenly in her hands are at least a hundred little booklets entitled The Pocket Guide to Communist Outreach, scattering right over the floor. Robyn yelps, and then reaches down the side of her bunk to pick them up. "Oh shit! I forgot I asked you to hold onto these! I thought we ran out, nice."

Joanna's face is in her hands, and May sighs long and hard before tossing the MRE back to Fiona with a distinctly pained expression.

"It goes out of date in a month," she notes with distaste, and Fiona just sucks it up without a word. She'll be thankful for it when they end up down a dark cave with no backup, but Fiona figures she'll sit on that one for a bit before being able to make the greatest told you so call in history. She can wait.

"So," she says, watching as May takes advantage of Robyn's momentary distraction to try and access her computer again. "I guess... do you wanna hear me play a song?"

Joanna watches as her partner leans too far over the side of the bunk, yelping as she nearly slams her head directly into the hard vinyl of the floor, and she grimaces. "Please do."

Grinning, Fiona finds her guitar again--somewhere buried, she mentally notes, beside the gallon of water but under the coats--and she slings the broad strap about her shoulders before settling it on her lap, crossing her legs tightly beneath herself before finding her place on the fretboard. After having not played since being back home, it relaxes her more than she'd ever realised it did. It helps to be surrounded by friends, though. Helps to be with family.

"I don't take requests," she adds, flatly, and Robyn laughs from her place on the floor before music fills the dorm, soft and deep and achingly familiar of a place far, far below.

But she's okay with calling this place home, too.

#is the title really a spongebob refer--#rwby #happy huntresses #fiona thyme #robyn hill #may marigold #joanna greenleaf #my writing #sorry this was in my brain for a while there sdfhjgsdfgjh #BUT ITS OUT NOW. ITS FREE.#what else would you have called this #fiona doesn't mention this but she also has emergency condoms and a literal handgun. just in case.#JUST IN CASE...

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shijiujun · 4 years ago

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hey, idk who else to ask - do you happen to know how gong jun managed to star in 2 BL adaptions? idk that much about c-ent, but i have seen quite a few people say that actors won't do one again if they already did one, as not to get a reputation i guess (?), so i was super surprised that he got announced for shl. is it just a rule for actors that gained all their popularity from a BL show? is it even actually a thing or just fans saying bc it has not happened much? thanks in advance if you know!

ehhhh okay so i kind of totally forgot he was in advanced bravely

okay wait let me bracktrack and break down the danmei/bl live action for you briefly as much as i can:

so bl dramas of the past right, forget wholesome plots (okay there may be like a small handful of exceptions) BUT honestly, every single china BL i’ve seen are mostly like the intense, makjang, angsty, super dramatic modern style ones - this was when BL live-action was starting out and slightly before the ban went into place, but i swear, all i ever saw were like BEs (or subtle HEs, but sooo much suffering and betrayal) - and there’s a lot of like skin on skin contact like either actual R21 scenes or hinted at - nothing wrong with any of these technically, but it made watching BL really sad af especially, when you watch those from china

then the ban happened, and things disappeared for a bit, and i think gong jun was really pretty lucky to not get cancelled in the industry for doing a BL show - because it was a huge possibility then, a lot of actors you saw in BL shows then didn’t really film after that?

and then of course now that everyone is sort of trying to skirt the no homo line by putting immense bromance, and obviously the shan he ling team really took quite a number of bold risks - risks that can have repercussions at any time, BUT sorry, getting back to your question:

1. so firstly, it’s just an assumption right, that actors don’t like to do more than one BL - i admit it’s really common, especially when they dont want to be typecast into a BL role? but i think it varies from person to person, honestly gong jun looks like he had real fun with filming and the script and everything, plus if he wasn’t like totally turned off from BL materials, i think he might have been more like “okay cool i’m getting paid for this” - a lot of actors themselves are like.. they really dont want to deal with these types of roles for a lot of reasons, some homophobic, some legit and understandable, and then there are definitely actors (and as long as the govt or censors dont crack down hard) that are like HOOOO alright, cool, another role,

2. yes, actors in bromances/bl adaptations these days do get more eyeballs - this is unfortunately (or fortunately) a fact of the industry - but i don’t see why this should be a huge issue - we all create content or be a part of content that will give us more exposure, so it’s pretty natural to head towards a show that will give you the exposure you need - there’s demand, and thank god for the supply just saying

3. more wholesome plots - so we no longer have like the makjang style like oh i’m gonna plot to incarcerate you or my parents are gonna harm you so you stay away from me plots *I AM NOT JOKING I WATCHED LIKE THREE LIKE THAT?!* - these are still current danmei plots and a lot of danmei writers specialize in like angst or gouxie - but these are definitely like more in your face hahaha, which brings me to the point of wholesome plots right - like we give you a little bit of fluff that can be explained away with “they are siblings”, touches that leave you screaming because damn that flirtation level - in any case, with for example TSOMD, CQL, MRIAD (not bl but close enough), now WOH, and in the future, SPL, MODU etc., there’s like greater plot they can focus on, rather than the INTENSE relationship itself - in terms of censorship it’s way easier to explain away

4. and also a legitly interesting plot?!?!?!?! i mean if you think about a lot of popular danmeis, the cult favourites, the focus isn’t just that the main couple is gay yeah, even in Word of Honor the plot is like DAMN YES, compared to some like one layer modern love romance - hell yeah i’d go fight some jianghu baddies anytime

5. honestly if youku or whatever paid him enough i say do it HAHAHAHA i honestly don’t think it was anything complicated - simply MONEY + HANDSOME OTHER COSTAR + interesting plot + appreciation for script + more money + POSSIBLE VIRALITY + MORE MORE MONEY hell yeah i’d take it too damn

6. he could also really appreciate priest’s writing, i mean, she’s pretty much a legend rn

#asks #shl #tyk

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wombathos · 4 years ago

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I really like your take on jgy, and letting himself go in his performance during his "villainous" scene. You mentioned that in Guanyin temple he is purposefully distancing himself from lxc, which is an interpretation I haven't seen before. If anything, jgy seems to be betting on lan xichen to save himself. He prevents him from going to the burial mounds and brings him with him, he appeals to his forgiveness... Where do you think he is distancing himself?

the ask is referencing this post, in which I said “he goes above and beyond in his efforts to pick apart everyone’s relationship even as he’s purposefully distancing himself from lan xichen” in a post about how jin guangyao is playing the villain in guanyin temple. so I wasn’t really precise in that post about a few things which I’m going to dig in now, basic summary below and then more extended discussion under the cut because this got… uh. long, I actually have a lot to say about this sorry

the overarching point here is that his performance and behaviour in guanyin temple isn’t a one-note affair and changes pretty drastically in terms of who is currently in control of the situation (as you’d expect, really) - and this affects both a) how much he’s drinking the villain juice and b) his behaviour towards lan xichen specifically. jgy - as ever - has several competing motivations, goals and fears throughout the whole ordeal of guanyin temple, which affects how he acts as well as what persona he decides to present to other characters. so with lxc as you rightly point out, he absolutely does have scenes where he’s entreating towards him, in part because he’s relying on lxc to help him, but there’s also other scenes where he’s… almost encouraging lxc to think the worst of him, or just acting quite coldly towards him. to get at what’s going on, I think it’s useful to make clear a few distinctions:

so first off I think for this it makes sense to not treat guanyin temple as one uninterrupted stretch - rather you have the run up to guanyin temple (from where wwx/lwj leave to burial mounds and jgy getting ‘injured’ to them going to guanyin temple - here how he treated lxc is really anyone’s guess), followed by,

jgy is in control, the other characters gradually show up and add to his hostage count and he has an unpleasant run in with a mistaken identity tomb but like, generally he’s in charge and thinks he’ll be able to execute his plan (this is a really long one)

lxc gets his spiritual powers back and holds jgy at sword point, the balance of power completely shifts. this is when jgy does most of his confessing, from incest to patricide to miscellaneous crimes and misdemeanours, the whole shebang

jgy takes jin ling hostage, lxc takes su she hostage. this is when jgy thinks he may be able to get away again

jgy’s arm gets chopped off and then it’s a chaotic free for all with wen ning joining in on the fun

everything has calmed down, lxc tends to jgy before stabbing him and watching him die

- followed by guanyin temple aftermath. especially for those first two, I’d say there’s a pretty clear change in behaviour on jgy’s part (afterwards it gets a bit murkier since the phases are also like… shorter), which makes sense because… well, personally I would certainly behave differently if I’m in control with multiple hostages as compared to when someone is pointing a sword at me. and I also think it makes sense to distinguish between the sets of concerns jgy is balancing throughout the guanyin fiasco, which I’m going to broadly delineate as a) practical (anything that has to do with him achieving his material goals) or b) emotional (not as in goals with an emotive component, but specifically his concerns for the emotional wellbeing of himself and others, by which I mean mainly lxc and possibly jin ling a little bit??)

one of the things you mention is jgy keeping lxc from burial mounds and I want to make clear when I spoke of him “distancing himself” from lxc, I didn’t mean he no longer cares about lxc. rather, he’s preparing himself for the end, for the increasing likelihood that lxc’s opinion of him is about to change drastically, fast. the practical concern here is keeping lxc alive, which he does very effectively by keeping him away from burial mounds and then making certain no harm comes to him as a hostage, the emotional one is… well, steeling himself for their likely separation? fearing more rejection from lxc once he hears everything jgy has done? hoping it will be easier if he can just keep playing his role and not wanting to be vulnerable in front of lxc? whatever the case - the argument that he’s ‘distancing himself’ from lxc, as well as the idea of him playing up being the villain, comes with a heavy asterisk:

this is only really true for when he’s in control in guanyin temple. in a nutshell, when the practical aims of ‘staying alive’ and ‘making sure lxc is all right’ and ‘getting the hell out of there’ look like they’re going to be achieved, are in fact still likely and he has concrete control over working towards them, he has a lot more space to act out in accordance to his emotional concerns, whether it’s preparing himself for his imminent separation from lxc or telling jiang cheng what a terrible brother he’s been for, idk, I guess the drama of it all? so in phase (1) of guanyin temple, it’s villainous monologues and barely looking at or talking to lxc, but in phase (2) his position is suddenly way more precarious. emotional distancing is fine and all up until the moment when you’re directly relying on this person to survive and like… at this point he can’t exactly afford for lxc to hate him? topic for another post, this, but in the post you reference I did also mention him enjoying picking apart his hostages’ relationships, which for obvious self-preservation reasons he does a lot less of in (2)

the danger of this interpretation is that it kind of makes it sound like I think that he’s putting on an act in (2) when he’s appealing to lxc and dropping the facade whenever he’s actually in charge, which is a fairly natural interpretation? and I think he’s dropping a facade in those scenes, even if he’s still playing up certain parts of himself and presenting another persona that might be… more honest than some but still not necessarily truthful? okay this is like. messy, but what I’m saying is it’s personas all the way down - and personally I reckon the one he shows to lxc when he’s begging for his life is actually one of the more honest ones. it fits in with a long-running theme of jgy and lxc’s dynamic that jgy shows lxc genuine emotions and vulnerabilities that are absolutely there, but still chooses which ones to show in a way that ends up being… cumulatively dishonest, or at least somewhat manipulative, I guess. at this point he knows that he can’t afford to distance himself from lxc and he confesses to all that because he’s quite right in thinking that this is what’s most likely to convince lxc to spare him, but that doesn’t mean it’s any less true. whereas when he’s in control, he has the choice to reveal certain parts of himself that he usually wouldn’t, but also has the power to hide ones he doesn’t want to show to lxc - because he knows he’s going to lose him

so that’s my general thesis: jgy was playing the villain and emotionally distancing himself from lxc when he could afford to do so from a practical standpoint but does so considerably less when he’s put in a situation where he’s reliant on other characters’ goodwill to keep him alive. he continues caring about lxc throughout and does so right up to his death but would like to prepare both himself and possibly lxc too from the coming separation by creating emotional distance between the two of them. also as with everything jgy does, fear is a huge driver: everything in his life has led him to expect lxc’s rejection once he knows all he has done and because lxc has played such a special role in his life that rejection is a truly terrifying thing. showing your vulnerabilities to anyone is scary even when you aren’t in the sort of situation jgy is in. so anything to avoid confronting it directly, anything to mitigate the pain, would be I imagine very much welcome

but the ask also is about actual examples of when jgy purposefully distances himself from lxc so… see under the cut for that

I’ll just focus on (1) here and do a close-read of their interactions because that’s where I think most of that emotional distancing (and also most of the more outright ‘fun’ villain energy rather than, like, sad villainous confessions), briefly touching on the shift afterwards to provide a contrast. also, let’s start with the run-up to guanyin temple because I think it’s fairly important to offer my best guesses as to what his mindset towards lxc is like going in. jgy taking lxc with him can be read in terms of both the practical ‘well he makes a real good hostage’ plus convenience of ‘he’s not at burial mounds anyway might as well’ as well as the emotional ‘this may be the last time I ever see him’. and yeah it’s probably mostly the former but let’s not forget that the only reason jgy does a pitstop at guanyin temple is to pick up his mum’s corpse, so it isn’t unreasonable to suggest he’s not only acting in terms of sheer rational self-interest in making these decisions

we don’t really know what happens here and how jgy acts towards him - he certainly tricks him and most likely fakes an injury of some sort to catch lxc off guard (which in the book wwx compares to an earlier book-moment where jgy faked suicide to get away from nmj and thinks he might have done something similar again) and manages to a) keep him away from burial mounds and b) either in the same act or later on takes lxc as a hostage (not sure which one it is? like surely it wouldn’t make sense to take lxc hostage if you still think burial mounds might succeed?) - and then they show up at guanyin temple with lxc’s spiritual powers sealed. as lxc says:

I’m ashamed. I got tricked by someone. I fell into a trap and lost all my spiritual energy.

now I don’t want to over-read into this or anything (yes we may be past that) but it did strike me how jgy doesn’t look at lxc when he speaks and doesn’t respond, but does turn to wwx and respond to him after wwx speaks and gives us a solid villainous smile:

I would argue that he finds it a lot easier to engage with wwx, banter a bit, than deal with the horrible messiness that is his relationship with lxc at this point. also… jgy doesn’t refute lxc’s point in any way. even when wwx gives jgy the chance to engage with him instead, he disregards wwx’s words about jgy’s penchant for lying and instead talks to wwx about underestimating him

if he were trying to endear himself to lxc at this point, surely you’d expect him to engage with lxc saying jgy fooled him? he doesn’t try to explain himself, instead he smirks at wwx (incidentally this is why I think jgy spends so much time poking at wwx and jc’s relationship - it’s not that he’s been a secret yunmeng siblings stan all these years but that this is way less personally painful territory for him than engaging with the others in the temple who he’s more personally close with (apart from lwj obviously and wangxian is something jgy did get in a bit of commentary on in the book, but let’s be real lwj is simply not as rewarding a target as jiang cheng is)).

this is pretty much conjecture and analysis based on vibes, but to me lxc and jgy’s behaviour doesn’t suggest they spoke a lot on the journey, or if they did their conversations were painful and most likely short. the only real evidence I have for this is that jgy at the very least didn’t confess to anything he had done, which is why lxc has to interrogate him about it later. also, jgy feels the need to tell lxc that he’s not going to try to remain chief cultivator later on - past deeds and future intentions would be the most natural conversation topics I would think? personally, looking at their coming interactions, I’d suspect that their few exchanges were along the lines of jgy telling lxc not to worry and that he wasn’t going to do anything to him and then… both of them opting out of anything more substantial

the first time he does directly engage with lxc is one that really fascinates me, aka the moment when jin ling arrives. they have this exchange:

Lan Xichen: “Clan Leader Jin, a-Ling is just a child.”

Jin Guangyao: “I know.”

Lan Xichen: “And he’s your nephew.”

Jin Guangyao: “Er-Ge, what are you thinking? Of course, I know he’s a child and my nephew. What did you think I would do to him? Kill him to silence him? A-Ling, did you hear that? If you recklessly run away or make any noises, I might do something scary to you. So you better watch your actions.”

now if I start talking about this scene we’ll be here all night, but for now I’d just like to note that I don’t think jgy is trying to make himself look sympathetic in front of lxc? he’s actually playing into lxc’s worst fears - in reaction to lxc expressing them, sure, and to my eyes covering up a lot of pain over lxc’s suspicion, but still going along with it and letting lxc believe the worst of him (and jin ling… topic for another post). look, he does the smirk:

then there’s this moment where jgy actually addresses lxc without prompting (but, hey, look it’s ‘Zewu-Jun’):

“Zewu-Jun, it’s going to rain. Go inside to take cover.”

this moment was somewhere between funny and bizarre to me, seeing as jgy is very much taking the time to tell his favourite hostage to not get wet. now the book translation I’ve read translates it as follows,

“Zewu-Jun, it’s raining. Let’s take shelter in the temple.”

- which regrettably makes a lot more sense. anyway, still doesn’t really look at lxc (as far as I can tell) -

- and then says “don’t worry” but adds a villainous smirk or two for good measure -

so let’s take that together with another interaction -

“But don’t worry, Er-ge, you know how I’ve always been towards Huaisang. When the time comes, I’ll definitely let you two leave without any harm.”

this is like… the warmest interaction in (1) we get? and again he’s telling him to ‘not worry’, which… another theme throughout is that I do think that for all that jgy avoids actually looking at lxc, he is acutely aware of the latter’s emotional state and is trying to manage it. not necessarily by making him feel good… and part of managing lxc’s emotional state is this increased distance, preparing for the separation of “when the time comes”, but it is also trying to assuage lxc’s fears. of course then that’s followed by this, which is a gut punch all round (including for jgy):

and jgy does this… cross between a smile and a grimace, this slightly resigned expression (he does also look a bit like he’s about to cry)

followed by this:

so yeah it’s… I really like this moment, because jgy is telling him essentially the truth but does so in a cruel way (and it’s obvious it lands with lxc). I can’t really read this moment as anything else than jgy distancing himself from lxc; yes he was somewhat prompted here by lxc, but he isn’t appealing to lxc to regain his trust - he explicitly says that it’s lxc’s choice but also that it doesn’t make any difference (or that lxc can’t do anything about it. whether it matters to jgy is another question). and then he turns to lxc and gives him this look -

and it’s… yeah, personally I read the entire thing as resigned, as well as a little cruel. it’s jgy knowing (or thinking he knows) exactly what lxc thinks of him and playing into that, of barely interacting directly with lxc but when he does enforcing lxc’s worst fears - the whole ‘playing the villain’ thing is nowhere near as blatant as it is with say wwx and jc, but it’s still there, in the interaction with jin ling and this one, in the coldness of it, in how jgy refuses to ask for lxc’s understanding because he isn’t about to admit either wanting or needing it

speaking of jc, when we get to his arrival and jgy starts picking on him, lxc tells him to not listen to jgy -

what can you say but yikes, really (though I do think there’s an interesting running thread of like… lxc looking at jgy and sometimes jgy looking at lxc but not at the same time? it’s like they’re both shying away from facing each other head on). to which jgy responds -

again, it just stands out to me how jgy isn’t refuting anything lxc just said. the words sound kind, but the implication isn’t, right? because the idea was always that lxc knew who jgy really was, unlike what the rest of the world sees him as (like lxc has himself said), and now jgy is identifying himself with the worst parts of what lxc sees - this is the meaning he’s choosing to attach to himself by going “you really understand me”. jgy is as good as telling lxc what understanding him entails, and it’s nothing about the deep bond they share but is instead something as painful as this. it’s less angling for reconciliation and more twisting the knife

back to jgy taunting jc, jgy says “It’s so difficult being your senior brother.” then we get this interaction -

the first part jiang cheng says and we only really get lxc’s heartbroken reaction, because jgy immediately brings the topic back to the yunmeng sibling angst, which he is like… playing for full drama. I actually think this is a nice example where playing the ‘villain’ goes hand in hand with the whole distancing from lxc, because he might be enjoying himself but it’s also very much used as a way to distract from all his own tricky emotional issues? can’t be talking about lxc and jgy’s shattered relationship if they’re instead talking about golden core transferrals, right??

so then there’s the whole jgy injures his hand thing.

I don’t have a whole lot to say to that because jgy’s dealing with other issues and he’s interacting more with su she, though… ouch at that little moment where lxc reaches out, as if by instinct

and when they come across a surprise corpse, it’s again that thing of… lxc looking at jgy, jgy not looking at lxc (he is distracted)

this isn’t really relevant to this post but since I’m already there, just after that you get a similar shot with jin ling:

(actually reminds me of nmj and jgy’s last conversation too) it’s a whole thing

and like… I’d argue it’s one form of creating distance, right? not even looking at him? trying to escape from any of these more emotionally intimate moments? and when it comes to the fratricide charge, again when he actually faces lxc, he’s not trying to garner sympathy. like the jin ling-related “what are you thinking?” or “you can’t do anything about it. right?” moments, it’s jgy shutting down conversations rather than starting them, resisting any chances to explain himself, (”is it necessary to ask” not “I didn’t do it” or even “please understand”)

and then wwx says something and jgy veritably jumps on the opportunity (and shoves poor su she aside in the process) to go over to wwx and monologue him for a bit instead -

this pretty much covers all(?) of their interactions in (1) which… it’s a fair few but it’s not actually all that many? I’m fairly certain jgy talks directly to both wwx and jc more than he does to lxc. their interactions become a lot more frequent from this point onwards - if nothing else, jgy becomes a more willing participant in them when it is in his (practical) interest to do so. but, to summarise, when jgy is actually in control he distances himself from lxc by:

a) avoiding interactions where he possibly can, including by avoiding eye contact and jumping on any chances provided by not-lxc to change the subject

b) not explaining himself to lxc and resisting openings to do so

c) playing into lxc’s worst perceptions of him, including playing the villain in lxc’s direction through coldness or smiles or cutting remarks

I do want to briefly go over the moment where lxc points his sword at jgy because it does illustrate the shift quite nicely. they start out pretty much the same way, jgy mostly talking to wwx and looking away from lxc -

- but that does change -

- and then eventually we get to the actual pleading. but the switch is slow and… it feels like there’s a lot of hesitation on jgy’s part. to me it doesn’t feel like something he wants to do, like he’s still calculating in those initial moments but gradually comes to the realisation that this approach is no longer going to cut it, that he’s going to have to appeal directly to lxc to save him. but then, eventually, he falls to his knees - and it’s quite a gradual motion, he really takes his time with it. are all those shots with lxc’s hand on the hilt of his sword that moves away when jgy falls to his knees implying that he was thinking about killing him?

so. yeah. I could go into more detail about how jgy does directly appeal to lxc in the following phases or what he is going on with him in the lead-up to his death, but that’s a topic for another post. for now, I think I can’t really read his phase (1) interactions in any other way than jgy preparing himself for the fact that this is the end - this is goodbye. jgy is scared of a rejection that is already unfolding; he is trying to shield himself from the pain and goes through a range of defence mechanisms to achieve that. it’s not an unreasonable fear, exactly, because it’s not like lxc reacts positively exactly to the revelations. and if jgy could have had his way, they never would have had this conversation to begin with, for better or for worse. maybe he thinks he’s doing a kindness to lxc, maybe he just doesn’t want to hurt him any more. either way, when he’s enough in control of the situation to allow it, he does his best to not engage with lxc at all. when he does, he does his best to distance himself from lxc - all the while merrily playing the villain with other characters he has less conflicted feelings about. it doesn’t work in the end and jgy ends up having to make himself vulnerable in front of lxc, but it’s a valiant attempt if nothing else

#sorry anon this ask accidentally unlocked… whatever the hell this is #oh and also thanks! i’m glad you liked the take #jin guangyao #lan xichen #xiyao #the untamed #demonic cultivation for pros #anonymous #leela replies #i actually think the villain playing thing is also interesting in what i semi-arbitrarily designated phase (2)#because it’s not like he entirely stops? but… different tenor #and for a different post

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scatterpatter · 3 years ago

Note

Corren - 1 through 100 - You did this to yourself.

FUCK YOU *UN-IRONICS YOUR ASK*

UNDER THE FUCKING CUT

1. What do they smell like?

Bad. Do you think their party is able to regularly take showers? I thinketh the fuck not. ... Pine and old books when he can self care tho.

2. What is their voice like?

Listen I know Corren, being taller, would be more likely to have a deeper register but you'll tear "tenor Corren" out of my cold dead hands

3. What is their biggest motivator?

Spite.

4. What is their most embarrassing memory?

When he first met his BFF Alondra, he was so antisocial and good at ignoring people that she actually got the impression he might have been hard of hearing. She never let him live that down. (one day I'll finish this fic i promise)

5. How do they deal with/react to pain?

"I will keep all of my pain in here, and one day I'll die." ... Okay but listen he's squishy so he takes like one hit and is bloodied up. Someone get him a healer. Pls.

6. What do they like to wear?

He likes his cloak. Its weighty and soft(well. WAS soft. got a bit of wear and tear these days.) and like. Who doesnt love cloaks.

7. Which of their relationships have impacted them most positively?

Ohhhhh fuuuccck this one's tough. I might have to go with Torvid honestly. While the entire party has had a positive impact on him(and trust me I was this close to picking Alistair), Torvid's been more of the one to call him out on his bullshit and to, oh I don't know, talk about your emotions? Ever??? Yknow BEFORE they become too much to handle and he absolutely breaks down???

8. What’s the weirdest thing they’ve ever eaten?

Alistair's cooking.

9. Describe the way that they sleep.

Good luck finding him NOT cuddled up with at least one dog. Tbh he just enjoys cuddles in general.

10. What is their favorite food/kind of food?

FUCKIN. GIVE HIM A GOOD STEAK. THIS BOY IS MOSTLY CARNIVORISTIC.

11. What do they feel most insecure about?

As tempted as I am to say "His cooking", it's actually his singing.

12. How do they like to dress?

"Comfort over flashiness tbh. I gotta go ADVENTURING in whatever I wear after all."

"... Also don't you DARE perceive me as cishet."

13. How do they react to feelings of guilt?

Call him a genie because he will BOTTLE THAT SHIT UP.

14. How do they react to/deal with betrayal?

Denial :D

15. What is their greatest achievement?

Shrike: Killing his dad

Me: NOOOOOO

EDIT: WAIT THIS WAS ANSWERED IN Q99 WHAT THE HECK

16. What are they like when they’ve gotten too little sleep?

Somehow more of a dick than usual. Snappy and cranky and just. Mrehhh.

17. What are they like when they’re drunk?

Doesn't get drunk often, but when he does I imagine he's actually giggly and a little clingy. It's cute :)

18. What kind of music do they enjoy?

*Opens my Corren playlist* Oh yeah. It's either full edgy alt rock or indie alt "depressed millenial" tracks.

19. Are they right or left handed?

FFFuuhhhhck uhhhh well

Looking over my old art I can't seem to pick a dominant hand(I've even drawn him handling his sniper with either hand???????????) so like oops guess he's ambidextrous.

20. Fears?

The dark, the ocean, dying alone and forgotten, his friends losing their trust of him

21. Favorite kind of weather?

Rain!!!! Especially cool rain like what people often get in fall months.

22. Favorite color?

Indigo!!!

23. Do they collect anything?

Books :3

24. Do they prefer either hot or cold weather more?

Cold weather by far.

25. What is their eye color?

Electric blue!

26. What is their race/ethnicity?

Well his race is a homebrew race known as Marelienth. Uhhh ethnicity? Idk he's from a mountain town way up north *shrugs*

In human aus I imagine him as half-Mongolian half-Norwegian so ayee

27. Hair color?

Black!

28. Are they happy where they are currently?

No :D He loves adventuring with his party don't get me wrong but he still has a lot of trauma to unpack. ... Also he was just possibly broken up with soooo. :/

29. Are they a morning person?

NOPE.

30. Sunrise or sunset?

*motions to above question* Sunset.

31. Are they more messy or more organized?

More organized, actually!

32. Pet peeves?

*unravels a list. It's all shit the party has done. Mostly Alistair.*

33. Do they own any objects of significant personal importance?

HOOUSIDSJFK- HE- Y-YEAH HE SURE DOES

His amethyst pendant used to belong to his brother, Julian, and he gave it to Corren right before they were separated so you BET it's sentimental as shit and he wears it daily.

34. Least favorite food?

Mecha's usually a great cook but one time trolled him with some absurdly spicy curry he couldn't handle and he's never forgiven them.

35. Least favorite color?

Hmmm. Maybe... yellow?

36. Least favorite smell?

He spent a year with his party in a damp cave and no showers, so uh. I'll give you a guess.

37. When was the last time they cried?

Literally last night in our game's timeline :D Full breakdown and everything!

38. Were they with anybody the last time they cried?

Torvid :D He was there to comfort

39. Tell us about one of the times they got injured?

One time they were in combat and Corren took a few hits and was down to about 2hp or so. He had a temporary level thanks to Kieran, which boosted his HP a little bit. When he teleported them to a safe town, though, well... Torvid was waiting for them so that's cool. But uh. Yeah that temporary level wore off then and there, dropping Corn Cob to exactly 0hp and he just- flopped down face first in the snow and started dying then and there KJNDKLFNSLKN

40. Do they have any scars?

Do you want to talk about the scar over his eye from a fight he got in with his dad or like. The scars on his limbs from the time he was literally experimented on.

41. Do they struggle with any mental health issues?

Undiagnosed+Untreated Anxiety, Depression, DPDR, PTSD, just to name a few

42. Do they have any bad habits?

Running away from his problems, definitely.

43. Why might someone dislike them?

He's a pretentious nerd. He can be a dick if he doesn't care about you.

44. Why might someone love them?

He's an adorable nerd! He's a hopeless romantic and oddly enough an optimist. He's passionate and driven too!

45. Do they believe in ghosts?

Well ghosts are like- a canon proven thing in his world sooo. Yeah.

46. Is there anyone they would trust with their lives?

His party. Well- most in his party.

47. Are they romantically interested in anyone?

Nethyl :)

48. Are they dating/married to anyone?

He's dating Nethyl and they're in a happy and healthy relationship :) *politely ignores canon*

49. Do they like surprises?

NO >:(

50. When is their birthday?

Heroya 5th! I think. I don't wanna check, assume it's this.

51. How do they usually celebrate their birthday?

"You guys celebrate your watchdays?"

Jokes aside, he mainly just treats himself to a nice dinner and a new book or something :)

52. Do they have any family?

Two older siblings: Julian and Mila. His parents are Andreas and Fanya!

53. Are they close to their family?

... *Coughs*. He was close with his siblings, but Mila died and he hasn't seen Julian in 30 years. Was close with his dad but last time they saw each other, they fought and Corren might have killed him so. ... Yeah. :/

54. What is their MBTI type?

FUCK uh. I... N... T... J? INTJ. Sure.

55. What is their zodiac sign?

In Sekrezia: The eagle

In our world: Uhhh. Idk. Capricorn????

56. What Hogwarts House would they be in?

Uhhh. Ravenclaw??? I know almost nothing about HP :/

57. What D&D alignment are they?

THIS ONE'S EASY- lawful neutral!

58. Do they ever have nightmares? If so, what about?

Used to have typical nightmares, nothing special. Nowadays though he often dreams of being underwater. Not drowning, though. It's... weird. He doesn't like those.

59. What are their views on death?

He's a necromancer lol.

Death is inevitable, though. It's a necessary part of life. Death is not an entire loss, though. One lives on in the memories others carry of them, in the love they hold in their hearts. Death is complicated, but that's okay.

60. What is something that they’re sure to laugh at?

Alistair :)

61. When bored, how do they pass time?

Dog time :)

62. Do they enjoy being outside?

... Ehhhhhh?

63. Do they have an accent?

Technically??? It's an accent from where he's from but like. I just barely tweak my own voice when I rp him so? Damn Corren I'm sorry you've been cursed with east coast dialect.

64. Upon seeing a slice of chocolate cake, what is their first reaction?

"Damn who's the rich bastard here?" (cake is kinda a delicacy in their world- not like elites only but not NEARLY as common as it is here)

65. If they knew they were going to die, what would they do/say?

Reassurance mode to whomever he's with. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm okay. Remember what I told you, death is a natural part of life, yeah? I don't have any regrets, I'm okay... Just. Thanks. For giving me a chance. Thank you. Thank you."

66. How do they feel about sex?

I SWEAR he's allosexual. I'm just bad at writing allosexuals.

67. What is their sexuality?

He doesn't really know how to pin it down, so he just calls himself "queer". Definitely not straight, that's all he knows.

68. Do they become squeamish at the sight of blood?

AHAHA no. He's hella desensitized

69. Is there anything that they find really gross?

Skulking cyst. Look it up at your own volition. It's. NO.

70. Which TV Trope(s) best describes them?

It's 12:21 in the morning and I'm NOT about to scroll through a bunch of tv tropes just. just. NERD stereotype.

71. Do they enjoy helping people?

Yyyyes? Only really if it's the people he cares about.

72. Are they allergic to anything?

Bullshit.

73. Do they have a pet?

WINGTHARA!! HIS SKELE-DOG!!!

74. Are they quick to anger? What are they like when they loose their temper?

Oh yeah he's all bark and no bite. He usually just throws a little fit and/or yells.

75. How patient are they?

More than he should be :/

76. Are they good at cooking?

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

77. Favorite insult? Do they insult people often?

Oh yes he insults the others all the time. No particular favorite, he likes so spice it up.

78. How do they act when they’re particularly happy?

Stim. Stim. Stim. His eyes get all sparkly and he. He.

79. What do they do when they learn about other people’s fears?

He will do everything in his power to assure they won't ever have to deal with their fears alone- You afraid of spiders? It's his job to get the spiders from now on so you won't have to deal with them.

80. Are they trustworthy?

Oh yeah. He's like Rapunzel- doesn't break promises.

81. Do they try to hide their emotions? Are they good at it?

Oh yes he tries to hide it. And yes, he's awful at it.

82. Do they exercise regularly?

Yes and no? No like- exercise regimen, but the amount of travelling and fighting they do is just- a workout in and of itself

83. Are they comfortable with the way they look?

Yeah! He's cute and he knows it baybie!!!

84. What are some physical features that they find attractive on people?

He,,, he likes someone who's physically stong,,, Muscles are,,, aaaaa >///>

85. What kind of personalities do they find attractive?

Someone he can nerd out with :)

86. Do they like sweet foods?

Impartial to it. He won't turn sweets away but he's not crazy about them either.

87. What is their age?

43, the equivalent of- I think someone in their mid 30s?

88. Are they tall or short or somewhere in between?

He's 6'8" :) Which is actually normal for his race

89. Do they wear glasses or contacts?

Sometimes! I like to think he has reading glasses or something like that.

90. Do they consider themselves attractive?

HE'S CUTE AND HE KNOWS IT.

91. What is their sense of humor like?

Julian tainted his sense of humor and now he finds the most dumb shit hilarious. Think very millenial/GenZ humor like "I wish I was Jared, 19"

92. What mood are they most often in?

"I don't get paid enough for this" or Fear.jpg

93. What kinds of things anger them?

People who don't keep their FUCKING WORD. Oh and like. Yknow. Half the shit his party does.

94. Outlook on life?

Again he's??? Oddly an optimist? In the "Things will get better and that is a fucking THREAT" way, but still optimist!

95. What kind of things make them sad/depressed?

Talk about his family :) Or the fact that his boyfriend might want him dead :)

96. What is their greatest weakness?

He's squishy as fuck. He goes down easy.

97. What is their greatest strength?

He's extremely intelligent and great with magic and his sniper!

98. Something that they regret?

Not doing more to stop his brother when he tried to resurrect their sister

99. Biggest accomplishment?

Either convincing an entire town his name is Torren or accidentally convincing some very OP people that he's secretly a dragon.

100. Create your own!

FUCK YOU I SPENT LIKE 2 HOURS ON THIS. NO PROOFREAD. IVE ALREADY DESIGNED CORREN'S AND NETHYL'S HYPOTHETICAL KIDS. ANYWAYS THEY'RE TWIN IRINAGA AND I'VE NAMED THEM AFTER THE DNDADS TWINS: THEIR NAMES ARE LARK AND SPARROW.

#LONG POST #LONG LONG POST #Corren #FUCK YOU DREWSKI <3

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adiwriting · 4 years ago

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Sunday Morning 11/?

This fic morphed into something much bigger than a “Sunday Morning” fic, so I am going to be trying something new. I’ll be posting this as a Sunday Morning fic, then this evening I’ll post a special follow-up “Sunday Night” fic. Don’t expect that to be a regular thing, but I figured this fic would require a follow up and our boys shouldn’t have to wait a whole week to resolve things.

Shout out to my people over at the 18+ Discord for helping me talk through this one!

Gif by the lovely @manesalex

Week 11

It’s Sunday morning and somehow, they’ve been roped into attending brunch with everyone, though Michael doesn’t really understand how. They’ve made it pretty clear to everyone that Sundays are off limits for any and everything unless somebody is dying. And looking around the table, nobody is suffering from a medical emergency.

Yet, here they are. Sitting around Isobel’s patio with the entire “I know an alien” fan club while Kyle tells some story that Michael isn’t interested in. He looks over to Alex and glares, not understanding why they’re here instead of in bed together like they should be. All he knows is that he’d been woken up by Alex and told to get dressed. When he’d complained, Alex had made it up to him with an incredibly enjoyable blow job, but the positive effects of his orgasm wore off the moment he stepped into Isobel’s backyard and saw just how many people are here.

He loves them all. He does. But he also knows them all, and there is no way they are getting out of here in the hour that Alex promised him this would last. And they can’t even use the excuse that they have to go home to take care of the dogs, because Isobel had demanded that they bring them along. Currently, Bell is at home, still not up for leaving the house. The rest of their fur babies are each being held and spoiled by their aunts and uncles. So no, Michael is about as likely to pull Alex away from the passionate conversation Liz is having with him as he is to be able to pull John out of Max’s arms or Wendy out of Isobel’s.

So here he is. Grumpy after a long week of rude customers and one transmission problem too many. He sits in silence, eating his omelette and listening to his family discuss their own stressful week. And so he’s able to notice several things.

For starters, he notices the way that Liz keeps glancing over at Max with a smile and the way that he keeps winking back at her. So he knows that those two idiots have gotten back together. He’ll never admit it, but he’s relieved. Max deserves some happiness in his life and Liz is good for him. He’s glad they finally decided to forgive each other for all the drama several months back. They’d both been idiots and caused a lot of pain, but hopefully they’ll be able to move forward and do better, like Michael is moving forward with Alex and doing better.

Then there’s the other thing, the more important thing… the way that Alex keeps looking over at Maria with a look that can only be described as longing.

Michael feels bad. He doesn’t know the entire extent of the weirdness that has happened between them, but he knows he’s to blame for at least a chunk of it. Alex and Maria still talk, but there’s been this noticeable tension between them ever since Maria broke up with him. Alex won’t talk to him about it and neither will Maria, so Michael is at a loss as to how to fix it.

Michael leans over to whisper into Alex’s ear, “You should talk to her.”

Alex shakes his head.

“She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Somehow, Michael doubts that is true. He’s known Maria for long enough to know that she adores Alex. She also isn’t one to avoid confrontation. Alex on the other hand is notorious for avoiding conflict. He’s gotten better at it, but between the two of them, Michael is willing to bet that Alex is the one avoiding having whatever difficult conversation they clearly need to have.

“Maybe she doesn’t think you want to talk to her?”

“Maybe you should stick to fixing cars instead of trying to fix people,” Alex says. He’s smiling at him, but Michael can hear the bite in the words and raises his hands in surrender. He’s certainly not going to spend his Sunday fighting with Alex, even if he feels like he should push. If Alex wants to sit here missing his best friend who is sitting less than six feet from him, let him.

“Do you see Peter right now?” Alex asks, changing the subject and Michael lets him. He glances over at where Kyle has Peter in his lap and has to laugh at the way that Peter very slowly puts his head on Kyle’s plate and steals a bite of egg without Kyle noticing.

“I’m pretty sure that he’s eaten 2 whole pieces of bacon and half that omelette,” Alex tells him.

“He definitely learned that level of thievery from you,” he teases.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Guerin,” Alex says, to which Michael snorts. He reaches over and takes his own mug out of Alex’s hand. Alex had stolen it earlier while Michael wasn’t looking.

“No?” he asks, giving him an amused look as he sees the mug is nearly empty.

“Nope,” Alex says with an adorable smile that has Michael rolling his eyes.

He downs the last little bit of coffee before standing up and heading inside for more.

“Pour me a mug?” Alex says, causing Michael to let out a surprised laugh.

“Pour it yourself,” he says, though they both know that he’s coming back with two mugs.

Michael is standing in the kitchen adding cream to Alex’s coffee when Liz comes inside carrying a handful of plates.

“I see you finally took my advice on Max. Only took you a month. I thought you were supposed to be the smart Ortecho,” he teases.

Liz rolls her eyes. “What makes you think I took your advice on Max?”

“I don’t know,” he says, peeking through the blinds to point at where Max is sitting with the biggest smile. “The dopey look on his face? He hasn’t looked like that since before you left for California.”

She moves beside him to peek out the window as well and once she does, she practically swoons. He rolls his eyes. As subtle as a sledgehammer, those two idiots. Did they really think nobody would notice?

“You gonna try and tell me you aren’t back together?” he asks, crossing his arms and fixing her with an amused smirk.

“Fine. We are. But what makes you think it was your advice that did it?” she asks, using her hip to push him out of the way so that she can wash off the plates in her hand.

“Was it?” he asks and her glare is answer enough. He laughs. “I’m glad you two got back together. I don’t think I could have handled another one of Max’s sad drunken monologues.”

She pulls up the blinds to let the natural light in before turning on the sink and starting the process of washing the dishes.

“They’ll fix things too,” she says, handing him a clean but wet plate. Apparently he’s drying.

“Who?” he asks, grabbing a towel from the stove and drying the plate before putting it back in the cabinet.

“Alex and Maria.”

Michael doesn’t say anything at first. He doesn’t think that Alex will appreciate it if he tries to get details out of Liz that he hasn’t been ready to share himself yet. But he wants so badly to ask her what she knows.

“They aren’t fighting over you,” she tells him.

He gives her a look. Does she think he’s a complete idiot?

“They aren’t fighting entirely over you,” she corrects herself and that sounds more accurate.

“Why are they fighting at all?” he asks, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

Liz looks at him out of the side of her eye for a moment or two before sighing deeply, clearly resigning herself to something.

“They got into a fight while she was still in the hospital,” Liz explains as she continues to do the dishes and pass him the finished ones to dry. “It started over you. Alex thought that Maria broke up with you because he got kidnapped and you went after him. He felt guilty. Then he found out that she was refusing to wear the bracelet, and that’s when things got heated. Alex and Maria don’t fight often, but when they do it isn’t pretty. They both said some things they regret.”

“Alex is mad at her because she won’t wear the bracelet?” he asks.

It makes sense. Alex doesn’t like being out of control and Maria playing with fire would certainly press at those buttons. Michael gets it. He too has had to wrestle with figuring out how to accept Maria’s stupid decision to risk brain damage just so that she can have access to her visions. The risk far outweighs the reward, but Michael could never figure out how to get her to see that.

Or maybe he hadn’t tried hard enough. After all, his issue isn’t about control, it’s a fear of abandonment. And he’d always been too afraid that Maria would leave him to push her hard enough on the issue. Alex wouldn’t have had that fear though. He would have pushed and pushed and…

Yeah. It doesn’t surprise Michael in the least that they’d ended up having a blow up about it.

Liz finishes the last of the dishes and hands it to him, shutting off the sink and turning to lean against the counter and look at him.

“Maria broke up with you because of the bracelet. But mostly, because she knew at the end of the day that you would always love Alex more even if you weren’t planning on ever admitting it,” she explains.

“Okay…” He’s not sure why she’s telling him about his own breakup. He knows exactly why Maria broke up with him. He was there.

“Alex thinks that the reason you are with him and not Maria is because of the bracelet.”

Michael takes a moment to process that, trying to figure out what she’s getting at.

“Alex doesn’t want much,” she continues. “He never has. He learned not to expect much as a kid and doesn’t aim high. He wants Maria safe. She’s his best friend. Through everything, he’s always had her to rely on. So he can’t lose her. But he also needs you. Can you see how those two things might be in competition with each other?”

“He thinks he’s my second choice?” he asks.

Liz looks at him like he’s an idiot and maybe he is. Because here he’d been thinking that everything has been going great between the two of them. How could Alex honestly still doubt what they have together?

“That’s why he wouldn’t tell me what they fought about,” he says. Alex isn’t the kind of guy who voices his insecurities easily. Of course he wouldn’t want Michael to know that he feels like he’s a consolation prize.

“The two of them will work themselves out in their own time, they always do,” she says. “But it would be easier for them to fix what they broke if you fix what you broke first.”

His body tenses and he opens his mouth, about to defend himself when she holds up her hand. “Talk to Alex. If you want him to make up with Maria sooner than later, then you should make sure that he knows he doesn’t have to choose between either of you.”

“Even if I convince him that he’s not a second choice, it still won’t change the fact that Maria is gonna wear the bracelet when she wants to and not a moment sooner. It won’t fix the issue,” he argues.

“Perhaps,” she agrees. “But it would be one less thing weighing heavy on him and making that first step back towards her harder to take.”

She pats his shoulder in sympathy before walking towards the door, stopping once her hand is on the handle and turning back towards him. “That was my sisterly advice to you. So we are even now. Sí?”

Michael shakes his head. “That’s not how this works, Ortecho.” She gives him a curious look and he continues. “We’re family, right? We don’t have to keep score.”

She smiles at him brightly and Michael can kind of see how Max becomes completely hopeless around her. “I never wanted a brother, for the record. But I guess you’ll do, Mikey.”

He groans, grabbing the two coffees off of the counter before following her out onto the patio. “Mikey? Still?”

“Always and forever.”

She heads over towards where Max is currently playing a game of bags with Jenna while Rosa stands beside Max, giving him shit, trying to mess up his game. Michael heads in the opposite direction where Alex is currently sitting in a chair, watching as Maria and Isobel have what looks like a photoshoot with their puppies.

“Do I even want to know?” he asks, reaching over Alex’s shoulder to place the mug in his hand and a kiss to the top of his head before sitting down at the empty seat next to him.

“Our puppies are Insta-famous apparently,” Alex says, taking a sip of the coffee and smiling in a way that makes Michael feel all warm inside.

“I don’t remember consenting to that,” he says.

“Apparently Isobel started photographing them weeks ago and they have a following.” Alex hands Michael his phone and he scrolls through the pictures that Isobel has been posting under the Instagram handle @FaithTrustPittieDust. She’s been posting pictures on the regular, apparently. He scowls when he sees a picture of Peter wearing a tiny black cowboy hat.

“Well she’s banned from puppy-sitting,” he says, handing the phone back to Alex.

“One hundred percent,” Alex agrees, pocketing the phone before shifting around so he could look at Michael more fully. “You were in there a long time…”

“I got distracted, sorry,” he says, nervously. Unsure how Alex is going to react to the news that they’d been talking about him. However, he knows that it’ll be better to just be upfront about it. “I was talking to Liz,” he says with a meaningful look.

“Okay?” He looks confused.

“She told me about the fight with Maria.”

Alex grumbles and shakes his head. “She has no concept of minding her own business. Never has.”

“I want to talk about this,” he says. Alex looks around the yard at their family and he sits up in his seat. His body visibly tenses and he prepares for a fight. It’s been awhile since Alex got defensive like this around him, but he still recognizes the signs of Alex closing himself off. “But we can talk later when we are alone.”

Alex breathes a sigh of relief, even if his body doesn’t relax completely. And that’s on Michael. He should have noticed sooner that Alex wasn’t feeling entirely secure in their relationship. But it’s also on Alex for not being honest with him about their feelings. Clearly they’ve still got a ways to go in terms of figuring out how to make this thing between them work.

They may not have the ability to have the conversation completely right now. But there is something Michael can say and he doesn’t want to wait.

“I want you to know, right here, surrounded by family, exhausted as fuck, and spending the entire time complaining because I want to be in bed with you instead? This is the happiest I’ve ever been in my life. The most settled. And it’s important to me that you know that.”

Alex doesn’t say anything, but he does relax a bit further in his chair and Michael takes that as a win. He reaches out his hand and smiles when Alex reaches back and they can lace their fingers together.

Peter obviously comes over and tries to pull Michael off of Alex, angry that he’s not the one getting all of his daddy’s attention, but they don’t let go. Michael isn’t planning on letting go of Alex ever again. And he hopes Alex feels the same way about him.

Follow up fic to be posted tonight ;)

Tagged: @callieramics @redstalkingdeath

As always, if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.

#roswell new mexico #roswell nm #malex fic #fic: sunday mornings #michael guerin #alex manes #liz ortecho #doggy daddies #found family #mentions of maria deluca

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meksims · 4 years ago

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the “without fail” writing tag by @gilded-ghosts.

@koisser and @honeyviesims tagged me in this challenge, and i've been itching to do it! finally found the time to write this down. :') thank you for the tag!

Rules: List five things that you, WITHOUT FAIL, weave into or explore in your stories, whether it be specific themes or tropes, character archetypes, allusions to other literary works, what have you! It really can be anything that you consistently include in your narratives for whatever reason. Then invite others to share theirs by tagging them!

while i haven't shared much of my writing with the simblr community, i've actually been writing since i was in first or third grade! it was mostly fanfiction until i reached high school, and i slowly branched out and started own original stories. after all those years of writing, i'd like to think that i've got some "without fails" up my sleeve.

i’ll be keeping the rest of the post under a ‘read more’ so as to not clog your dashboards. feel free to read if interested! it’s a long one, and i think i end up going off-tangent from time to time. 😅💛

color theory.

when coming up with a new oc, i always try to get the essentials down: name, appearance, birthday, gender identity, sexual orientation, overall purpose/role, etc. i like taking it one step further and assigning them a color.

i’ve been interested in color theory / color psychology for the longest time. for one, it helps me distinguish each character from each other. it acts as a ‘starter’ or ‘base’ for developing their personality. it’s also fun when i get to build a scene and the opportunity to use color ends up presenting itself.

if you wanna know how serious i am about it, i’ve got a tracker. like the google sheets kind. here’s the 2020 edition, which i need to update...

when it comes to translating that into the sims, i usually try and reflect their chosen color through their clothing. you’ll notice that in my coa x main nine introduction post; i think all of them (except for jian and matteo) wore their color in their clothes.

found family.

i love this trope. i love this trope to death and i will never not include it in my writing. it can be a group of misfits coming together, it can be a squad or team going through certain trials and tribulations with one another, it can be anything of the sort and i will absolutely eat it up. it’s heart-warming, it makes me cry, and as a queer woman it has a special place in my heart.

an example of found family in my writing includes squad a from coalesce (aether, peters, mack, and seonghui). they met primarily through their canon occupations and ended up with a synergy that’s as strong as it can be.

found family’s also great for exploring insecurities, vulnerabilities, and getting to play with how one member or person interacts with the others. i’m a sucker for that. and i’m also a sucker for a good group hug!

the city and its secrets.

some personal context: my hometown isn’t exactly the most metropolitan. the same sentiment applies to the town where i spent elementary and high school. it was only around college that i got to experience being somewhere that felt more alive.

i love cities. there’s something about it that just draws me in—i mean, my undergraduate thesis was related to the city, and i just ordered a book about cities from my university bookstore. i love the potential there is for it, endless possibility, the different walks of life that intersect on a daily basis, so on and so forth.

but i’m also interested in what’s kept tightly-shut; secrets, mystery, who approaches who if there’s a problem, a noisy club with a private back room, some sort of inner darkness that’s close to overflowing.

this should also explain why i love playing in san myshuno!

road to recovery.

so you've reached rock bottom. how do you claw your way back up?

my friend rainy knows this well, but one of the things i want to do with coalesce—especially with characters like seonghui—is to show that recovery isn’t linear, as cheesy as it sounds. it’s difficult. it gets nasty. you feel like you’re thrown further back from where you started. but do you pick yourself back up and try again, or do you let yourself be consumed by the hurt of it all?

admittedly, i’ve also been intersted in looking into charcters who fall into the latter option. i think that’s something i want to do with another fic (that i’ve nicknamed shadow); but no promises on the progress of that one! 😅

disappearing acts.

an important thing to know about me: meks loves a good, good mystery.

back in high school, a lot of my stories were centered on someone who disappeared. the plot was always focused on bringing them back, but before they even did, something i also liked exploring was absence. how does it feel when someone familiar isn’t there? how do the dynamics change? is there something off-balance?

i still use the trope in current stories, but the disappearances aren’t as awful, i promise! or at least, i hope they aren’t…

but yeah, bringing it back to the second part of this explanation, i just like fiddling with absences and gaps and exploring character dynamics.

those are the top five! i’ve got way more, but i can save those for another post.

again, thank you to koisser and vie for tagging me! i’ve got no idea who to tag because i think everyone’s done it at this point. but if you wanna do it and need someone to tag you, just say that i did. it’s okay. 💛

#without fail writing tag #meks.txt #i genuinely love this challenge #it took me a bit to gather and think but ive listed the most used down!#i miss writing #ive been in a slump for quite a while #the imposter syndrome really slapped me in the face there

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fizzingwizard · 4 years ago

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Episode 30, the alleged halfway mark, at last!

I’m fresh out of jokes so let’s hop right into the review!

Pictured above: Characters who supposedly exist in this series

More under the cut as usual

So last week I listed the things episode 30 needed to do to make me not hate it. They were: 1) Sora had to stay with Taichi and be part of the action, 2) the other characters had to feature here and there to progress their storylines even if the main focus remained on Taichi, and 3) WarGreymon’s appearance needed to be dramatic.

Well... guess who didn’t get Bingo this episode -_____-’

I am... seriously... mind-boggled. This is bizarre. Yes, we all understand that evolutions just aren’t the big deal they were in 99 Adventure, BUT this episode DOES try to convince us that WarGreymon IS a big deal. It just fails at it spectacularly, in my opinion at least. As for the rest: Sora stays with Taichi, but he tells her to take the helpless Digimon to safety and then we don’t see her do anything but stand around waiting for Taichi. Most of the other characters don’t even get a cameo, let alone story progression. Taichi reflects on them briefly at one point but it’s unbelievably stupid. Only Koushirou has anything to do and he is STILL JUST STARING AT HIS COMPUTER.

My expectations for episode 30 weren’t super high, given the current storyline, but I’m honestly slackjawed by how BORING this episode was. They really seem to have decided to rest the entirety of the show on Taichi, and much though I love him, I just don’t think he CAN carry it by himself. Not only has he long been unbelievable as a grade school kid even for shonen anime standards, he doesn’t crack jokes, he doesn’t show personality... all he does is fight. Like, the show isn’t ALWAYS like this - I’ve legit enjoyed it a various times, and I know why - it was always when the team was together and we learned things about them and the fighting was balanced out. So I never know from one week to the next how I’m gonna feel about the new episode. But I do think this is the episode I hate the most to date. :/

We had a promising start with Garudamon still actively fighting several Megadramon at once, simultaneously barbecuing Sora.

Fortunately it’s magic so she’s not dead, nor has she fallen to death.

Taichi and MetalGreymon continue fighting the Allomon on the ground.

The mysterious Lopmon looks on with a judgmental glare, wondering why he isn’t currently being carried like a baby. Walking is hard, he wants to be carried. Taichi do your job

Taichi: cmon lopmon you have to learn to do things on your own

Lopmon: no I want to play video games

Taichi: well then I refuse to buy you any more games. if you want them you’ll have to get a job and earn the money

Lopmon: daaaad! youre ruining my life! uggh!

Koushirou keeps an eye on the misbehaving satellites.

Taichi and Sora debate what to do. It’s difficult to protect the forest Digimon while fighting at the same time, so Taichi tells Sora to bring them to safety while he fends off their enemies on his own. WHAT THE HELL IS THIS PLAN. Since it’s a shonen anime, I normally wouldn’t whine about this but... it was just last episode that we were shown Taich cannot cope with the combined attack of that many enemies at once on his own. He needed Sora’s help. Why he now thinks he can do it is a mystery.

Taichi can maybe handle the Allomon and Megadramon on his own, but last episode Tankmon also appeared, and this time, lo and behold, in comes Parrotmon. Sorry Taichi but you brought this on yourself.

Meanwhile Koushirou communicates with “someone from the Internet” and learns that the satellites are all rerouting to converge on the same location:

The freaking International Space Station!

Which will then surely explode! And cause lots of trouble both in space and on earth!

^Pictured: Koushirou’s “oh shit” face

^Pictured:MetalGreymon’s “oh shit” face

MetalGreymon proved to be weak to the lightning Parrotmon emits. If there’s a reason, they don’t explain, but I like the idea that he’s particularly weak to it because he’s a cyborg and the electricity disrupts his... circuits :P Then Parrotmon gets hit with a beam of dark energy and evolves!

Into Klosmon? Krosmon? IDK, IDC.

^Pictured: Taichi’s “oh shit” face

They get their butts handed to them. Taichi and Agumon fall unconscious. Rather than take the chance to deliver the finishing blow, Klosmon or whatever politely waits for them to wake up.

Taichi’s consciousness is swept into a white empty world...

where he finds the Crest of Courage looking weirdly sentient... or maybe that’s just me...

MetalGreymon just looks possessed

Taichi: Are you alive?

Agumon: Yeah... you okay?

Taichi: Yeah... uhh... well... sort of...

Not being dead = I’m still ok

So here’s where the episode really loses me... After visiting the blank world, Taichi is suddenly able to recall what happened after Devimon ate him.

This makes little sense since he seemed pretty KO’d at the time, but okay, find, he woke up long enough to see WarGreymon and now he’s remembering it, sure why not. But I hate that they did this whole “ohh he doesn’t remember!” thing and then solved it like this. Presto! Now he remembers! It’s maaaagic!

And as ADORABLE as the two of them holding hands like this and resolving to keep fighting is... I just can’t be impressed by a battle with Parrotmon. Or Klosmon or whatever it is now. There’s a reason most shows save dramatic moments and big epiphanies for battles that actually progress the storyline. It makes a much bigger impact. This just feels like someone saying “Woohoo it’s Tuesday!” and then you ask “what’s special about it, is it your birthday or something?” and they say “Nope I just felt like being excited that it’s Tuesday!”

I mean points for optimism and all but it doesn’t make a very good story.

Taichi helps Agumon walk x’D They are planning to keep fighting even like this.

And I get that the “never give up!” attitude is essential to the shonen anime protagonist, but when you literally can’t walk by yourself anymore, it’s important to take care of your health is ALSO an important message this show might consider teaching kids once in a while -.-”

In spite of his unsteady legs, Agumon’s still able to evolve again and powers up to fight Klosmon.

It uh... doesn’t go well.

The one cool thing here is the way Taichi sets about attempting to make MetalGreymon evolve. Although we already knew the children play an important role in evolving their partners, Taichi seems to really understand it now, and focuses deeply. It’s a much more active role than we’ve seen before - it seems like more than the usual “encouraging thoughts and emotional ties” spurring the evolution.

At least he’s still super cute.

So we have already seen the Crests many times, I knew that... but my theory was that, in order to reach the final evolutionary stage, they would need the help of the physical Crests. So that’s what I thought Mimi was doing with those crystals.

But Taichi is indeed about to call WarGreymon. So... I have no idea what use Mimi’s gonna find for those crystals x’D I suppose she’ll make herself and Palmon matching necklaces. Or sell them on the black market.

From her super safe hiding spot, Sora watches in awe, wishing she too were a real character on this show and not just an inconvenience as far as most of the writing staff are concerned

I love WarGreymon’s shield.

BAM. He appears. It’s dramatic. But only just.

WarGreymon defeats Klosmon and explodes the forest... Uhhh, weren’t we supposed to be protecting it?

Taichi and WarGreymon then join Sora and the forest Digimon and uh... that’s the episode.

Oh yeah, we get one more hint that Lopmon is more than just some random idiot. Lol. This episode hinted at Lopmon, reminded us that Hikari’s been abducted, and told us that the International Space Station might explode, and then addressed none of those.

The message on the bottom says that the next episode will be on January 10, meaning there will be no episode next week as per usual due to New Year’s holidays.

Next week’s episode:

Turns out Lopmon is one of the holy Digimon or something. Honestly not a surprise, I mean, it’s Lopmon. Should have occurred to me earlier.

Also we got what I think is our first named mention of Millenniumon and it looks like Hikari might find out somethig about him. So that’s cool. The rest of the episode seems to stick with Taichi and Sora’s group... The only thing I can say hopefully is that, since WarGreymon’s appeared, MetalGarurumon ought to be not too far off. So that should mean we at least get a Yamato-centric episode in the not too distant future.

Okay, a couple weeks ago I said I had some stuff to say but would wait till episode 30 to do it... so stop here if you don’t want to read me ranting :P It mostly amounts to what I complained about in the beginning: This season is just so hyper-focused on the fights and seems to treat the team aspect as an afterthought. Which makes no sense to me. Honestly, I don’t mind the excessive fighting - that’s common in shonen anime and grown up me can’t expect to be interested in the same stuff that interests 8 year old boys.

I don’t even mind the idea of Taichi’s role as main character getting an upgrade - like, in 99, he was the main character, but it was felt a lot less. Better balanced with the others’ roles, I mean. I think it’s totally okay to make Taichi a more central character and the plot focus in the new season - it wouldn’t be my choice, of course, but that doesn’t mean it’s inherently bad. But the way they’re going about it just doesn’t make sense to me. Even Taichi isn’t interesting half the time. He just fights.

Like I said before, this isn’t the way the show always is. There have been some highlights. I truly loved a few episodes, and the show does seem to have fallen into a pattern of being good for a while and then degrading into something like today’s episode. I don’t know why: budget? pandemic? or is this really, legitimately, what the show producers want to show kids? I guess, in the end, this show really may be about selling toys and selling toys only. (But, if that’s the case, I’m even more surprised that they don’t make a bigger deal about all the evolutions...)

A lot of things I liked the most happened in the very beginning - the first three episodes in particular. The characters interacted with each other. Their feelings and actions influenced each other. Fighting happened, a lot, but it wasn’t the only thing happening. I was pretty excited then. I didn’t expect to love this show like I love 99 - that’s just not possible, I’m too old and 99 is too special to me for me to trust my judgment - I was just happy to see the Adventure kids back and entertaining a new generation.

But since then it’s been a roller coaster with few highs and a lot of lows. Although it’s hard to imagine how the pandemic would have changed the storyline, episode 4 was where they paused the show for Japan’s lockdown-but-not-really, and once they picked back up the tone just seemed kind of different from the first three episodes. Not right away - I think the intro episodes for the rest of the team were pretty reminiscent of “Digimon Adventure” - but that makes sense, they had 4 ready to go and probably had made headway on the next few episodes before they closed down the studio. Anyway, that’s just a guess, since it seems like everything’s been affected by the pandemic, but with a few exceptions we have all been back to work more or less normally since June...

The thing is, there are lots of fighting shonen anime - tons of protagonists who never give up and never fall in spite of how hurt they get, and who get unlimited “evolutions” in return for their tenacity. That’s all fine. It’s the genre. But the thing is...! The thing is, those other shows, they all tend to have humor, to care at least marginally about character relationships, and understand that that’s how you build up a main character: just winning fights alone doesn’t cut it. So I just don’t know what to make of this new Adventure show. It’s FINE when the team is together. We get cool character moments and insights and even some joking around. But they KEEP SEPARATING THEM. This time they didn’t even have more than a single episode together before they were all split up again! I wonder if it’s because they’re having trouble getting all the voice actors in due to pandemic-related issues and budget issues etc. If so, HUGE bummer. Of all the years for Digimon Adventure to get a reboot... why did it have to be this miserable excuse for a year...

Le sigh.

But there’s nothing we can do about it. I’m just going to like what I like and hope for the best in the future. I really would love for the new Adventure to be popular with kids and keep that cast going. I don’t expect it to compete with the lids of Kinmetsu no Yaiba or anything. I just hope that, when we hit the final episode, we look back and say that the season was overall worth the reboot. I hate the thought of looking back and saying “well, that sure was dull.” It’s just an insult. 99 Adventure wasn’t the most unique storyline in the world, but it had a lot of uniqueness IN it, and what made it special was its treatment of the team and the child-partner relationships. The reboot doesn’t need to be exactly the same, but it shouldn’t be forgettable.

That’s why us being at the 30 episode mark concerns me. At this point we know how the show is paced and what’s it like. We can’t really argue that we just don’t know enough to make a judgmenet yet. It’s hard to believe things will suddenly change. If they do, assuming the change is for the better, I’ll be thrilled, but I’ll also feel sad that we missed out on so many chances for cool things to happen in the first half.

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure:#digimon adventure reboot #digi spoilers #digimon #fizz watches digimon 2020

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Bearable | A Reddie Fanfiction

Read it from the beginning

Chapter 3

Eddie stood looking at himself in the mirror. The sky outside of his window was darkening, on the brink of sunset right near 6:30 pm. He was dressed in what he considered his 'party clothes', or at least the closest thing he could find- he wore a brown plaid button-up tee with a darker brown v-neck sweater, finally finished off with a pair of khaki pants. It was nothing special, really, but it was probably the most, as Bill had put it, 'chillax' thing he currently owned. Living with his mother, Eddie had grown used to wearing what she bought him and only what she bought him, which only consisted of simple tees, polo shirts and, of course, his occasional button-up. The sweater he currently wore had been a gift from Stan for his 18th birthday- he has gotten a similar one for his 19th as wel.

"St-Stan? Eddie? Ruh-ready to go?" Bill's voice echoed through the house, snapping Eddie from the odd trance he'd fallen into, staring right into his own reflection. Right, of course- he had a party to go to.

"Coming!" He called, and was just about to turn and leave the room when his eye was caught by an object on the surface of his dresser- It was his inhaler. For a moment, Eddie stared, and felt as if it were calling to him. He hadn't used it for months until the fight with his mother, and already he had vowed not to use it again. He'd been trying to shake the habit of using it just as he had started faking swallowing his old placebos; sadly, however, the effects of his false-asthma still kicked in so hard he had to take a puff or two. Eddie's lungs felt tight with anxiety at the idea of this stupid party, and he only debated for one more moment before grabbing the inhaler and jamming it into his pocket, just in case. He was quick to join his two friends, and they both set off- umbrellas in tow- into the now-starting rain.

***

It had been approximately 10 seconds and Eddie was fighting back over stimulation. Shit, he hasn't even knocked on the apartment door yet, and the booming, thumping music with it's impossibly heavy base was already putting him on edge. Stan was close to his side, Bill just a few paces ahead, and though he was more than grateful for their comforting, familiar presence he was terrified. Eddie didn't know these people. He was walking into a strangers home. He'd seen horror movies, he knows what happens in big, crowded parties with alcohol and hormonal teens and what happens is they get slashed by a serial killer. Maybe it was just paranoia, but Eddie was already wishing he could turn tail and flee. Bill, Stan and he stopped in front of the door belonging to the source of the noise, and that anxiety in the pit of his stomach tripled, if that was even something that could happen at this point. Eddie tried his very best to suck in deep breaths, but they came in with a slight whistle and made his chest ache.

"Ready?" Stan said, quickly straightening out the collar of his navy dress shirt, passing a quick glance and a warm smile in Eddie's direction, "It'll be okay, Eddie, you can stick by our side the whole time." Eddie nodded his head, clasping his hands nervously together in front of him. Bill gripped the door handle, giving it a twist and pushing it wide open. Ah, yes- Eddie hates this, indeed.

"Oh, no..." The words were spoken mostly to himself, drowned out almost entirely by the speakers throbbing throughout the house. It was dark, the only illumination coming from colorful fairy lights strung high above everyone's heads. The place was packed with moving, dancing bodies, red solo cups held in the hands of nearly everyone. Eddie could see glow sticks wrapped around wrists and hanging from necks, and even spotted a woman in a too-short dress clashing lips with a man in a Letterman jacket. Before he really could give in a flee, a hand was set gently on his shoulder, and he turned his head to see Bill grinning down at him, his eyes alight with a mixture of excitement and concern. The question didn't need to be spoken for Eddie to know that Bill was nervous for him. With a simple shake of his head, Eddie dismissed his worries and motioned with one hand for the redhead to lead the way.

"Hey!" Before any of the three could move an all-too familiar voice rang through, slicing through the sounds of the party and calling all attention in that direction, "My dear friends, you made it!" Richie pushed past a few people on his route to the trio, his cheek-splitting grin even wider than usual and clearly under the slight influence of alcohol.

"Hey, Ruh-Richie! Thanks for inviting u-us, this is... a bigger puh-party then I've ever been to in my li-life!" Bill extended a hand for Richie to shake, and the host was quick to accept it with the one hand that wasn't harboring another one of those red cups. Eddie caught a glimpse of a dark liquid, along with the smell of booze and citrus.

"It sure is something," Stan agreed with a nod, and Richie gleamed with pride.

"Can I get you three some drinks? They may or may not be spiked. We also have, uh... grass, if that's any of your styles." Before Richie could be judged (Eddie was just about to scold him for drug use) he tacked on, "It's not my type of thing but I wouldn't mind if it was yours!" He started to laugh along with Bill, even Stan letting out a small chuckle, but Eddie was still hugely unimpressed with this all. Much to his demise, Stan the Polite had to go and agree to the drinks. Before he could protest, Richie was leading the way directly into the throng of people towards a kitchen. It was miserable. Dancers blocked the way to their desired destination, meaning the group had to push right through them. Not only was it impolite, but these teenagers were also drunk and disgusting. Eddie was trying so hard not to be so uptight, at least for one night, but he just couldn't do it. He pulled his arms into himself and braved the traverse, wincing as he began to attempt to weave through. He was pushed from all sides, sworn at by one rowdy man who he had accidentally bumped into and winked at by a drunken girl dancing with her friends. Though it was only momentary, it felt like centuries past where he was drowning among these bodies, afraid and struggling to breathe. Then, just like that, he was free on the other side, still right beside his two friends and the host who was bringing this treachery into his life.

"Quite the crowd," Eddie grumbled to Stan, both Richie and Bill failing to overhear. Stanley smiled and bumped Eddie gently with his elbow, yet again delivering a small form of reassurance. The kitchen was emptier than the rest of the house, but there were still a fair amount of party goers within it. Among them, Eddie recognized Mike leaned on the counter at the far end with two other kind-enough looking people- he also recognized these two from the coffee shop where they'd met Richie. A tall, sturdy man leaned against one wall, watching with obvious heart eyes as a redheaded girl seated on the counter chattered away about one thing or another. Right at their side sat a massive punch bowl, half empty but with plenty of other bottles of soda and alcohol around it to refill later if need be.

"Heya, you three," Richie greeted them with a smile and a wave, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of Stan, Bill and Eddie, "I'm sure you all remember these guys." Richie spun on his heel, leaning his back against the counter and beginning introductions, "This is Bill, Stan and Eddie; and this is Beverly, Ben a Mike. Shake hands, maybe share a kiss, and give me another damn cup of punch." Eddie did none of the above, even when Bill moved forwards to do the first option. He shook hands with each new person in turn, and said his courteous 'nice to meet you'. Even Stan spoke up with a greeting and a small wave. Sure, Eddie felt like an antisocial asshole but he was having enough trouble keeping his asthma in check without touching a bunch of strangers. Speaking of his asthma, yeah, sure, it wasn't real or whatever but right now it sure felt like it was.

"Care for a drink?" Beverly hopped down from the counter, motioning towards the stack of unused cups there for the taking.

"Y-Yeah, hell yeah," Bill responded with a smile, "What... whu-what is it?"

"It smells rank," Stan grabs a cup, leaning over and staring down into the bubbling liquid, "I'd love some."

"This, my good friends, is what I call my 'Tozier Juice'- Orange juice, ginger ale, and lots and lots of alcohol, courtesy of Haystack over here," Richie patted Ben on the shoulder, sending him a friendly grin that much resembled the ones that Eddie and his two best friends shared- it was that of a close bond built on top of years and years of memories.

"Th-that actually doesn't suh-sound too bad," Both Stan and Bill helped themselves to the drink, and then they turned to Eddie. Both seemed to know that he wouldn't be interested, but a cup was offered by Bill either way. "Sh-sure you don't want any? Not even just a glass?"

"Fuck no, I don't want to ruin my liver- or my heart, or brain or-" A sharp intake of breath, it hurts,"-pancreas, for that matter. Did you know drinking too much can increase your blood pressure? Have you ever heard of a stroke?" Eddie crossed his arms, the muscles in his shoulders tensing just at the thought of what this alcohol could do to him. He could drink too much, just a little too much, and then that would be it for him. He'd collapse to the floor and he'd die right here and now. "Plus, if my mom ever found out she would kill me, like literally-"

"Hey, calm yourself, Eduardo," Suddenly, Richie's arm is sliding over his shoulders, pulling him close, too close, to that mass of tangled dark hair that could possibly be housing every louse on the planet, "This is a party, you don't have to follow mamma's rules!" Eddie shoved himself away with a grimace, his lungs closing tighter in on themselves. The contact was too close, Richie was too strange, and now Eddie was only growing more and more frightened and uncomfortable.

"Don't touch me, Richie! Jesus, that's-" Eddie shudders, his breath catching in his throat. He can feel anxiety building in his throat, climbing upwards and begging to be let out in a scream or something of the sort. Eddie hugged himself tightly, scrambling away from Richie and closer to Stan and Bill.

"Wow, Jesus, I-" Richie laughed nervously, and Eddie watched him exchange a curious glance with Stan, who only waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, I, uh... I guess. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything." Without returning an answer, Eddie glued his gaze to the floor, feeling heat rise up his neck and into his cheeks. Now, tension hung in the air like a shroud and it was because of him. Shit. He didn't mean to ruin everything. For a minute, and then two then three then a whole fourth, no one spoke, simply sipping at their drinks and listening to the deafening music. With each second that ticked by Eddie's throat closed tighter.

"So," Beverly broke the absence of speaking first, her voice raised to overpower that music that was still so loud, so fucking loud, throat tight, head pounding, "Tell me about yourselves. Rich tells me you're going to the same Uni as us? What classes do you have?" Bill took a sip from his 'Tozier Juice', and then responded in a voice just as loud as hers- he was too loud, now, too. His words begin to blend together into a collective hum, nothing but an indecipherable murmur as Eddie held himself tighter- he could hardly breathe, oh it hurt- The weight in his pocket was tempting, so tempting, and he wanted nothing more than to pull it out and take a puff, even if it was just sugar and water. The only thing stopping him was Stan and Bill on his either side, because they were against the placebo, they were trying to wean him off of it. Overpowering that murmur now was a sharp ringing, only pierced by the sound of collective laughter, too loud, suffocating. Eddie's face drained of it's colour, and no one seemed to notice. Can't breathe. He felt frozen, all of a sudden, rooted in place as if left in the cold for too long. He couldn't move his arms, his legs, and now his throat was growing tighter. He snapped his mouth open, fighting to suck in a breath- all at once, the sound came rushing back and it was all just too overwhelming. Eddie was gasping, fighting, snapping from his trance as all air fails to rush into his lungs. All eyes turn to him, Bill, Stan, Richie, Ben, Beverly, Mike- everyone is staring at him, looking at him, as he stumbles to the counter, his legs threatening to give out, Ben hurrying out of the way as Eddie almost falls right into him. The asthma attack was so sudden, so powerful- he had reached that tipping point, and gone tumbling right over the edge. Now, his throat was swollen shut, his head was pounding, that ringing was loud and the music was louder.

"Sh-shit, Eddie!" Bill was the first one to arrive at his side, and then everyone else. Every fucking person was surrounding him. He clutched onto the counter, still gasping, face paler than a sheet as he desperately fought against his reflexes. One powerful half of his mind screamed GRAB YOUR FUCKING INHALER EDDIE GRAB IT OR YOU'LL DIE YOU'LL SUFFOCATE RIGHT HERE AND- while the other half was shouting not to because then he was failing and when you fail you disappoint and he doesn't want to be any more of a disappointment than he already is. He gasps, sputters, grits his teeth and fights to reopen his throat but it won't cooperate. Strangers gazes bear into his back. He's the center of attention. His throat his shut like a vice.

"Eddie, hey, you okay?" Stan was there, a hand on his shoulder but that was too much, this was all too much and he didn't know what to do to stop it to stop the pain and the fear and the suffocation and he can't breathe.

"Hey hey hey hey, what's happening Eds? What's wrong, what can I do?" Richie was here now too, stupid annoying Richie with his caring tone and the hand he sets on Eddie's. Just like the too-loud laughter had been what sent him over the metaphorical cliff edge towards an asthma attack, this overload of contact had been him hitting the icy waters below. Without a second thought he burst upright, both Stan and Richie falling away, and ripped his inhaler from his pocket. He pulled off the cap and stuck it between his lips, pressing the button on the top and sucking in the breath with a sudden jolt. Air passed, a minute amount, and he needed another puff, and then, finally, a third. Each one rocked through his body, trailing with it relief, euphoria, burning through his veins, his throat, down into his lungs until- he let out a gasp as the inhaler left his mouth and felt the guilt rapidly push the good feelings away. The entire group had gone silent again, until Bill stepped forwards to place a hand on Eddie's arm.

"A-Are you okay now, Eddie? Did it help?" His tone probably wasn't meant to be condescending, but that was the only emotion Eddie could get from it. No, Bill, I'm not okay and I'll never be okay because my mom fucked me up big time, Bill, is what he wanted to say but he didn't get the chance because now Stan was on his other side with that sickly sweet concern that Eddie doesn't really deserve and they probably don't really mean.

"Can I get you water? Anything?" Eddie was quick to shake his head. Stan sucked in a slow breath, and let it out in a shudder. From his peripherals, Eddie caught the sight of him and Bill sharing a glance. He didn't miss the way Stan's lips quirked down into a frown, or the feeling of Bill just slightly shrugging one shoulder. He hadn't even been here for twenty minutes and Eddie was done. They were disappointed in him. He could sense it. Jamming his inhaler back into his pocket, he shook off both hands and set off to who knows where. He didn't know this apartment and he didn't give a shit. He needed to find a bathroom, a bedroom, a balcony, a something to get him as far away from the noise as possible. He hears them calling after him, Bill and Stan and maybe Richie too but the music swallows him whole as he pushes into the crowd towards what he thinks is a door to outside. He pushes, uncaring in it's entirety, needing to get out, away, to suck in the fresh air. His lungs feel tight again, but not as tight as before and he refuses to use his inhaler. He breaks free from the crowd and lets out a wheeze of a huff, falling into the door and shoving it open and closed as quick as possible.

Just like that, it is calm. With one shoulder against the glass he can feel the reverberation, the bass shaking the building in it's place. It's quieter now, faint enough that he can feel thoughts swimming around like panicked fish. Eddie pushes off of the door and staggers towards the railing, letting himself lean on it despite what his mother would say. You're so high up, Eddie-bear, don't lean like that or you'll fall! You'll tumble right down all six floors and then you'll be done for! The mother in his mind continued on about something else, about him not loving her enough to take care of himself, about why does he hate her? What did she do for him to treat her like this? But he pushes those thoughts away and locks them in a tight little box so he doesn't burst into tears. For the first time he realizes that the rain is heavier now, pouring down in steady, thrumming sheets, blotting out the streetlights below and further muffling that music. The smell of petrichor and lightning fell around him, probing in through his open mouth and cleansing his lungs of the placebo. It was soothing, so much so that his eyes fell shut and his head tipped back. He let the utter pleasure of the weather soak into his skin, the chill biting at the tips of his nose and ears. He could catch a cold, his mother warns from inside his head, but he locks those thoughts up even tighter and tells himself he doesn't give a shit. With each deep, rain-tasting breath his lungs give way a little more until it's clear again. A few minutes pass of deep breathing, exercises he's learned through the years. Calm washes over him and now he doesn't mind the distant heartbeat of the bass. Time seeps by slowly and he doesn't mind it.

Behind him, the door opens, and the tension sets in again.

"What do you want?" Eddie's voice is cold. He doesn't know who it is, assuming it's Bill or Stan and hating that he's not right. The music grows louder and then fades again as the door opens and shuts.

"Hey, Eds," Richie shatters his peace with a tentative tone, and then he's there at his side leaning against the railing.

"Don't call me that."

"I, uh... I wanted to say sorry." The rain thrums on. Richie stands at his side. Eddie hates this party. "I... I didn't know..." Richie struggles to find the right words. The rain sounds like static, buzzing, hissing, calming. Richie should leave Eddie to enjoy this peace but he doesn't. "I didn't mean for this to happen." A heartbeat passes in time with the bass. Eddie finally answers, his words quiet, clipped, cold.

"Get lost, Richie." Richie doesn't. Instead, his movements slow, careful, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out two things- a packet of cigarettes, and a lighter. He doesn't waste his time offering one to Eddie, simply lights one for himself and takes a deep, sluggish inhale. All is quiet except for the static and the heartbeat of the bass. With an unwanted wave of vulnerability, Eddie feels his eyes begin to sting. The ocean inside of his stomach, tossing and turning and churning is made of liquid guilt. He feels horrible for failing Stan, for failing Bill, for ruining the party they'd both been so excited for. Richie takes another drag, letting out a cloud of smoke that's ripped away, sent spiraling, by the beating rain. As the party rages on just feet away, Richie stays with Eddie instead of leaving him to join back in on the fun. Eddie hates that he feels gratitude. Minutes pass, and the rain washes away the last traces of warmth. Before he knows it, Eddie is shivering, a gentle tremble that might have less to do with the cold and more to do with how exhausting it is to withhold his stinging tears.

"Here," Richie slides one arm out of his black button-up, passes his cigarette to his now free hand, and then liberates the other. Without asking, he moves towards Eddie, placing the thin fabric around his shoulders to provide as much warmth as possible. Richie returns to his place from before. A few more moments pass when Eddie finally finds the stability to answer.

"Thank you." His cheeks glow pink in the pale, black light, but Richie smiles anyways and simply nods his head. With his lungs clear and that warm gratitude calming the tidal waves of regret, he speaks in a low, quiet, shaking tone. "It seems you can keep your mouth shut, hmm?" This time, Richie laughs, a light chuckle that blends with the bass and the static in a perfect way.

"I'm making a special exception, Eddie. Don't take it for granted." Richie bites on his cigarette. He lets out another cloud of smoke. The rain slices it apart. "But, hey," Leaning on one elbow and glancing Eddie's way through his thick-framed glasses, Richie looks almost nice, "I really am sorry. If I'd known you would been stressed or over stimulated or whatever, I would have warned you." Sucking in a slow breath and letting it out in a sigh, Eddie shrugs his shoulders, pulling the black button-down tighter around him.

"It's fine. I should have handled it better.- I'm the one who should be saying sorry" At that, Richie quirked a brow.

"It's asthma, you can't really control it- unless that's some sort of super power." As an after thought, Richie added, "Pretty lame one if you ask me." Eddie held a hand out into the rain, soaking in the biting cold of each drop. It streamed down his hands, off of his fingertips.

"No, it's... it's all bullshit. Nevermind." A heartbeat passes, "You shouldn't smoke. It risks lung cancer." Silence yet again. Richie didn't ask to leave, and didn't make any move to. Once he finished his cigarette he dropped it to the ground beside him and crushed it under his heel. The two simply stood, side by side with a few feet between, looking out into the rain and soaking in the peace. The party continued on behind him, but Eddie couldn't care less. While Stan and Bill were enjoying themselves, so was he, to a degree. Richie's normally overbearing aura had calmed, dulled, softening around the edges so now it wasn't as much a bright yellow as it was a soft red.

"Eds?" Richie asked in a questioning tone, not shattering the fragile silence but rather parting it like hanging vines, "Can I make you a deal?" Eddie nodded his head. "Come by and buy coffee every once and a while and this whole ordeal is forgotten, no hard feelings. I'll make you my signature drinks on the house to apologize to you, and you come by and chat with me every few days to apologize to me." Letting out another sigh, Eddie said,

"Yeah, fine."

"And don't call me Eds."

#reddie #reddie fanfiction #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #ben hanscom #stan uris #stanley uris #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #the losers club #it 2017 #it 2019 #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it movie

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libsterslobsters · 4 years ago

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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jessicajonesrp · 4 years ago

Text

Another victim goes out in flames

It had been several days now since Jessica’s brother made his sudden and stunning reappearance in her life, and into her general understanding of his actual being alive. She still wasn’t quite used to this as reality. Every time the words or phrase “my brother” entered her thoughts or left her lips, it didn’t feel like she could be talking about her own life. It didn’t help that she had not actually seen him since he showed up at the door. Spoke to him, yes, briefly, because brother or not, Jessica was not a phone person. Texted him, yes, although not as frequently as she had the thought to do so. But she hadn’t actually seen him again. A part of her was almost worried that if she tried to make arrangements to, it would turn out that she had drunkenly dreamed or hallucinated the whole thing.

So when Phillip called, suggesting they go out for dinner together, Jessica was anxious even as she agreed. It was lame and probably stupid to stress out over going to dinner with your own brother, even if he had risen from the grave, sort of, and she hadn’t actually known him as her brother for over 15 years. But she was anxious, enough that she had to finish a few bottles of whiskey and hole herself up in her office to research her current case several hours before he was scheduled to come pick her up.

Yeah, apparently her brother was a gentleman. He had insisted on picking Jessica up, choosing where to go, and that he would pay for it too. Jessica didn’t know what the hell was up lately with the men she had been encountering. Luke, Danny, Phillip all seeming to know manners, being men in NYC, seemed more far fetched than Phillip’s semi resurrection.

So far the case against the death-fire doctors was slow going, but she had picked up enough information to begin drawing some interesting parallels. Each of the men who died had been hailed as especially accomplished and revolutionary in their field, and each had specialized in something slightly different- neurology, surgery, and orthopedic works. They didn’t primarily work in the same building, but all were located in the same general county, and Jessica had traced that each spent one day a week working at the same hospital. Each also were noted to do “volunteer” surgery and works, some of which were undisclosed to public in specifics. Jessica also had done enough interviews with family and coworkers to note that each had described the man as of a similar personality type- driven, ambitious, singular in focus, and very efficient at work, to the point of having little time spent on personal life matters. Only Dr. Heath White, the person whose death had instigated Jessica’s investigation, was married, and none had children. They were all definitely far too fixated on their work- possibly a factor in their deaths?

Jessica had also noted that although most coworkers had not known the men well personally, and none of the family indicated spending considerable time with them recently other than Karen White, each person she spoke to maintained that the doctors had not seemed suicidal. Secretive, yes, preoccupied, and driven to the point of unhealthy, but not depressed or suicidal.

She was pretty sure that her biggest break would be found once she had finished looking through all the files that Malcolm had managed to pull together from the hospital’s system, once he hacked into it. She had noticed just in a brief skim that the three appeared to all be involved in what looked like similarly filed cases, each which were assigned numbers rather than patient names or even preheadings of John or Jane Doe. Malcolm had told her in an email that the files he had retrieved had been very hard to get to, deeply hidden within the system and not accessible to most of the hospital employees for retrieval. Whatever it was that all three men appeared to be working on together, it was not something that they wanted everyone to know about.

She pushed aside her lingering theories and thoughts on the case as her a knock sounded at her office door. Standing, stretching, and taking a final swig of whiskey, Jessica stood to greet her brother, awkwardly making a gesture somewhere between an effort of a hug and a playful punch on the arm that ended up getting their arms tangled. She flushed, laughing uncomfortably, and then hugged him, marveling again at how very different it felt to do so now with him taller than she was than it had when he was still wearing super hero boxers.

“Hey,” she said somewhat redundantly, stepping back. “You got a car? Or are we doing subway or taxi? That’s what I do, mostly, if I can’t walk. I don’t like driving much. Guess maybe you don’t, considering our history.”

“Subway, if you don’t mind,” Phillip said easily. “I don’t have a car. As you can imagine, that makes moving difficult, so it’s lucky I travel light.”

“Oh, speaking of that, Luke says he probably does have a job for you, if you want to try it out,” Jessica said as she followed Phillip out the door, hands shoved into her jacket pockets as they made the way to the elevator of her building. “Might not be your dream job, it’s a warehouse job through a friend of his. But if Luke’s offering it, I’m sure the pay and hours are decent, and it’s a start, right? Better than part time.” She smirked. “Besides, you tell them you’re Luke’s brother-in-law, and they’ll be intimidated enough to treat you right. Or just tell them I’m your sister, I’m pretty sure a lot of people are more scared of me than him.”

“Yeah?” Phillip said curiously, eyeing her. “That’s ridiculous. I can’t imagine people being scared of you. The most scary thing about you is your makeup during your grunge phase.”

“Says the kid who wore the same t-shirt with a stupid cartoon alien on it for four days in a row until Mom forced him to change it,” Jessica shot back. “Yeah, it’s kind of a thing, people get scared of you when you kill people. Or when you knock them around or lift cars in front of them.”

“But that’s still ridiculous,” Phillip insisted. “Whatever you’ve done, or can do, you have good reasons for it. There’s no reason to be afraid of someone who does things because they’re right. You only do those things to people who earn it. And you wouldn’t have your abilities if you didn’t deserve them.”

Jessica eyed him, her brow furrowing. “I didn’t earn them, Phil. People don’t get superpowers because they deserve them, they just have them. Look at Kilgrave, did he deserve his? Besides, just because you have good reasons for doing things doesn’t always make it right. He thought he had good reasons for what he did, and he was a monster.”

She is twitchy now, as she usually is when the mention of Kilgrave comes up, and bolts out abruptly when the elevator lands in the parking garage of their building. Phillip puts a hand on her arm, apologetic.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to offend you. I just…I believe in you, that’s all. I think it’s pretty amazing, who you are, what you can do. And what you can do with it.”

“You sound like Trish,” Jessica muttered, rolling her eyes. “You guys should get along great, she’s always “ra ra, Jessica the super hero” too.”

Phillip’s eyes flicker briefly when she mentions Trish, and he shrugs. “Maybe. Doesn’t seem to me like we’ll have a lot in common, from what I’ve read about her. Drinking is one thing, but hard drugs? And she’s been to rehab more than a few times, right? They says addicts are liars, just by nature of the addiction. I’ve known a few, had a few as foster parents. I always questioned how much of what they said was real and how much of it was an act.”

“Hey, that’s not who she is anymore,” Jessica said sharply, his words cutting deep. He wasn’t just implicating Trish, but herself as well with his declaration, although he had dismissed alcoholism as being different than drug addiction. “She’s been out of that life for a long time now. Hell, between the two of us, I’m the one people should be less willing to trust.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Jessie,” he said, shrugging. “You’re her friend, you know her. I wasn’t trying to cut on her. I’m just telling you what my experience has been. Like I said, I had foster parents into drugs, and a lot of kids in the foster homes and group homes too. It could really make life hell sometimes, living in that when there’s nothing you can do to get out of it.”

Jessica, having come to a pause in her walking to face him in Trish’s defense, blinked, uncomfortable and guilty at his second referral to his experiences in foster home. Every time she remembered growing up privileged, with all her basic needs met if not her emotional ones, in the Walker’s home, she felt almost personally responsible to know that her brother had not had the same experience. She exhaled, looking away.

“It’s okay. So, um….subway. Let’s get to it.”

Jessica started to resume walking to the parking garage entrance, stopping as a weathered gray mini-van entered to let it pass and park. She rolled her eyes, recognizing it as belonging to the Morrisons, a couple who lived on her hall and whom she avoided whenever humanly possible. The Morrisons had six kids, and Jessica knew them to be foster kids not because of their variety of ethnicities but because of the multiple obnoxious bumper stickers plastered over the mini-van, each some variation of declaring Nicole Morrison as being a “foster mom.” It reminded her of the fuss Dorothy Walker had initially made over being an adoptive mother when Jessica first came to live with her- only in public, of course. Although the woman had barely spoken to her, the public declaration of being a foster parent, which Jessica viewed as an invasion of the children’s privacy, coupled with the strangely quiet nature of children whenever she passed them, had made her suspicious of Nicole’s motives for having them and just how she may treat them behind closed doors.

Whatever. She was just glad she hadn’t been stuck in the elevator with her.

She hurried her steps towards the entrance of the parking garage, wanting to avoid eye contact as she heard Nicole Morrison get out of her car and lock it, and definitely wanting to avoid any kind of forced small talk. She heard the woman’s heels clicking as she started to walk, presumably towards the elevator or stairs, and wondered what kind of mother of six kids still felt the desire to wear high heels, and noticed that Phillip’s softer footsteps behind her had slowed in pace. She was starting to turn back towards him, to order him or tease him about hurrying up, when she first smelled the smoke.

Jessica frowned, thinking at first that either Phillip or Perfect Foster Mom was smoking, which was not only something she hadn’t though either engaged in, but was also not allowed in the parking garage, as several large signs declared. She didn’t actually see the fire until Nicole Morrison’s shrill screams pierced the air.

Jessica pivoted sharply, the tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing up in spooked recognition of what she was hearing. She recognized the sound of anguish mingled with terror. She had heard it too many times to ever be able to forget.

Nicole Morrison stood in between the rows of cars, writhing, arms flailing in panic. Her entire body was engulfed with flames, so brightly heated that Jessica could actually see hints of blue in the parts closest to the woman’s rapidly charring body. From over fifty feet away Jessica could still feel their heat, and the combination of smoke mixed with burning flesh made her cough, almost choking, before she forced her stunned, wire-tight muscles into action.

“Drop down! Stop, drop, and roll!” she shouted at the woman, but the woman was too far gone in pain and fear to probably hear or comprehend.

Jessica’s eyes darted, looking for some source of water, a blanket, a tarp, anything that might smother the flames, but there was nothing. It was a fucking parking garage, all she could see stretched before her was miles of useless vehicles. It occurred to her briefly that Dr. Heath White had also been burned to death in a parking garage, just before she sprung forward to try to help the suffering woman.

Tearing off her own leather jacket, she used it both as a protective cover for her hands and as a shroud over the woman as she pushed her down, then used her jacket to beat at the flames. It didn’t fully extinguish them, but they did reduce in volume enough for Jessica to be able to grasp the woman and roll her back and forth, smothering the rest. She choked, almost vomiting, when part of the woman’s skin peeled off into her hand, and tried to ignore the stinging burn of smoke irritating her eyes, throat, and nose. Her own hands were beginning to grow singed before she managed to fully put out the flames, but none of this was bothering her. Nicole Morrison had ceased making any sort of noise at all, not so much as a whimper, and what was left of her features and body was so horrific she barely seemed recognizably human.

Remember Phillip suddenly, Jessica tore her eyes from the woman that she wasn’t quite certain was even still living, barking out an order to him sharply.

“Phillip! Call 911, fucking hurry!”

But when she received no verbal affirmative, and whipped her head over her shoulder to repeat the direction, she saw that Phillip was nowhere within her view. What the fuck, where was he? Had he left? Had he been so frightened he bolted?

She couldn’t worry about that now. Hands shaking, she fumbled for her own phone, then, remembering it was in her jacket pocket, cursed vividly, reaching into the badly damaged garment for it. The phone cover and screen were burning hot to the touch, but otherwise appeared possibly still in working order. She dialed 911 with still unsteady hands, explaining the situation in a voice she didn’t quite recognize as her own, then looked down at the woman she was still kneeling in front of, knowing even before checking her pulse that she was dead.

Eyes tearing in what Jessica told herself was entirely due to the smoke, she stood, backing several feet away, and dialed Phillip’s number in between coughs. When he didn’t answer her, she dialed him again, then a third time, until he finally picked up, his voice almost as small as the child Phillip’s that she remembered when he said hello.

“Where the fuck are you, where the fuck did you go?!” Jessica almost screamed, the hand not holding the phone clinching into a fist and accidentally breaking the skin of the blisters forming on her palms.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice still small, shaken. “I just…that woman, and…it was just so…I haven’t seen anything like that. The way she sounded, and the smell…I’m sorry Jessie, I couldn’t deal. I couldn’t do it.”

“You ran away? You just left?” Jessica said, incredulous, although this was what she already knew to be true. “How could you just leave her dying like that?”

“I’m sorry….I couldn’t deal with it, it was….I couldn’t be there,” he whispered, taking a shaking, audible breath. “I couldn’t have helped her. I knew it, and I guess I just…I panicked. I’m sorry.”

“It’s…it’s okay,” Jessica exhaled, the action invoking another coughing fit for a few seconds before she could catch her breath enough to continue. “Don’t…don’t do that again. Just…just go back to where you’re staying, okay? We’ll have to do this hang out thing later. I have to stay with her until the ambulance come. And probably the fucking police too. Fuck.”

She hung up, breaking into another coughing fit, and leaned back against the wall of the parking garage, as far from Heather’s body as she could be while still being able to see her. Closing her eyes briefly, she fought off a threatening panic attack for several minutes before dialing Luke’s number.

“Luke,” she said, her voice hoarse and strained, and interrupted with another cough. “I need….I need you to come to my office. No, not there, I mean the parking garage to it. I’m about to be asked a shitload of questions by the police, and I may need a lawyer.”

#luke cage #luke cage roleplay #jessica jones roleplay #jessica roleplay #jessica jones

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symphonicspecter · 5 years ago

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Subcon Family Headcanons

Have I mentioned that I LOVE the idea of Snatcher basically just adopting a hundred child spirits and all these kids hanging out in the forest and caring for each other as siblings? @birdsareblooming‘‘s post inspired me to get my butt in gear and finally write all the thoughts I have

These are going under a read more because there’s a lot

(Any time I say spirits, I mean both Dwellers and Subconites)

All those little dolls the Subconites possess? Snatcher made those. He’ll drop everything to repair them if they get damaged. He spent days making all of them early on. Some of the Dwellers just didn’t want bodies, and he respected that and let them be. He’s taught some of the Subconites how to sew, so that they can repair themselves or if they want to make modifications or clothes for themselves.

Everybody knows everybody’s names. Some of the spirits use the same names they did in life, others made up new ones. They think it’s very important to always spell and pronounce names correctly.

If an outsider makes anybody uncomfortable everyone else goes into Get His Ass Mode

The Minion/Boss relationship is mostly just for intimidation. Regularly, the spirits refer to Snatcher as “Snatcher” “Dad” , or a nickname they made up, some like how “Boss” sounds too, But when outsiders are around, he becomes ““The Boss” exclusively, and they pretend like he’s intimidating. They like taunting about eternal servitude and permanent soul removal in their idle chat. And Snatcher acts a little bossier with them. It’s all to scare whoever is currently contracted.

Snatcher is very adaptable for the spirits. Some of them are easily discouraged or self-conscious, so he speaks more softly to them and never has them talk to him in work mode. Others love to do tasks, so he gives them chores, even when nothing needs done. He knows which ones are mute, have trouble talking, are sensitive to certain words, like to rant about their interests...

Everybody is valid! When Subcon froze over and everyone became ghosts (some with memories, others without), it essentially became an opportunity to start an entirely new society. They all foster a ““you can do whatever you want as long as you don’t hurt anybody”attitude. Along with choosing new names, some of the spirits wanted new pronouns. Queer? Neurodivergent? It’s all cool with the Subcon gang they will accept and validate you

Subcon Village is where the most houses are. The spirits take up residence in old houses, trees, anything that can be a cozy shelter. They mostly live close to each other, and several live together.

Snatcher has a check-in rule...if somebody has gone unseen for several hours, it’s time to look for them. Even with everyone already dead, there are a lot of dangers in the forest. So anytime somebody plans on hiding away for a while or wandering off by themselves, they tell somebody else. They all keep tabs on each other to stay safe

One of the Subconites made Snatcher a #1 Boss mug

The Subconites get excited to show Snatcher things they’ve made/done and he always turns into Proud Boasting Dad for them

Like a Subconite could show him their drawing of a tree and he’d be like Wow That’s So Good You’re So Talented!!!!!

Some of them want to give him the things they make. He has a special little place higher up in his tree where he keeps all of it. Sometimes he just goes up there and looks through stuff

Some of the more musically inclined spirits get together to practice and play. And they’ll invite Snatcher too

Games! Whether it’s Tag or Uno or Monopoly. The kids are always playing something. Sometimes it’s a big group of dozens, other times it’s a little group of four or five. And of course, they invite Snatcher to play with them too.

They all talk to each other so much, any news, gossips, jokes, what have you gets spread to everybody in a few hours

Movie nights...They get a big cloth and hang it between trees for a screen, and hook up an old projector and some type of player. It could be a movie left laying around from old Subcon,or something Snatcher stole from outside. A big crowd will settle on the ground and in trees and they’ll watch one or two or five movies

Campfires! They make a fire and gather around it and tell stories. Maybe they’re scary, maybe they’re not. It could be a story made up on the spot, something from a book, something they wrote themselves..they pass stories around for hours. None of them eat but they’ll put various things on sticks just for the thrill of catching it on fire

The spirits know not to bring up Vanessa

Most everybody knows how to deal with Snatcher in a bad mood. Whether he’s depressed or angry..after enough time they’ve learned what sets him off, when to give him space, when to give him hugs and kind words

Hugs and cuddles galore oh my god

All the Dwellers and Subconites are like siblings and say ““I love you” all the time

Snatcher has a hard time saying or accepting the L word but that’s okay, there’s a hundred ways to show it

Snatcher will take recommendations on what tasks to put on contracts

Snatcher has a hard time saying no to any of the kids, unless he’s in a bad mood. If he says no or seems annoyed, it’s a clear sign that something is bothering him

Cuddle piles...this mostly happens amongst the Subconites but sometimes a Dweller or two joins in or some of them want to cuddle on Snatcher

Snatcher steals from people in nearby towns...In game he says he steals mail. That’s his main method of theft as it’s the easiest. He redistributes to the Subconites. They love reading gossip in mail. Even a bill can be used for an art project. The best is when he snatches packages...who knows what fun things are inside! That’s how some of them ended up with smartphones

If Snatcher finds out that any of them want something specific, he’ll look for that when he’s out, That’s when he breaks the mail theft routine and might steal from elsewhere or con somebody into giving him whatever the item is

Besides just getting mail that Snatcher stole, the Subconites like to send each other mail. Yeah they can easily go talk to each other, but writing letters and sending packages is fun. They take their mail to Snatcher and he distributes it once a week

Snatcher absolutely will tease the kids...pretending to not understand something they’re telling him, mispronouncing the name of whatever they’re talking about, terrible puns, holding something out of reach, silly voice imitations, standard horrible dad humor

If anybody so much as looks at one of the kids wrong, Snatcher will end them

How the Subconites respond to a contractor heavily influences how Snatcher treats them...if you make friends with them, he’ll consider letting you go, but if they don’t like you...

The spirits are just as protective of Snatcher. If a contractor talks bad about Snatcher or tries to hurt him, they go into defensive mode. They’re ready to make a little plush shield around him, to kick some ass, or to check on him and tell him nice things afterwards. Or, like in game, to be his cheer squad while he does the ass kicking himself

If anybody is having a hard time you can bet the rest of the forest is saying/sending nice things to them instantly

Subcon has its own inside jokes/memes..

Several of them pitch in to decorate or host activities for holidays. Around a holiday, Subcon Village is covered in decorations. They have their own traditions, taking from what they remember from being alive, what outside towns do, and anything they think would be fun to add

They all teach each other..Snatcher taught some of them to sew, he teaches some of them about law, he’s shown a few how to play violin and cello...they teach each other about space, biology, painting, historical figures...it’s very common for them to talk about their interests and to want to learn about someone else’s

Sometimes Snatcher reads out loud for a group of spirits. He picks out books specifically for it, and then lets them pick from the collection

Every so often they plan events..maybe a bunch of them get together to write/make/perform a play, or the musicians hold a concert, or there’s open mic/creative writing readings, or dances! They always run it by Snatcher to get the okay and to get help planning/scheduling/reaching out/spreading word. There’s always a great turnout at these, with most or maybe even all of the spirits attending!

Sometimes Snatcher practices his Intro with a Subconite or two, and they give him some tips on how to be scarier

Yeah, arguments and misunderstandings happen occasionally, but they get resolved quickly

The kids tend to go to Snatcher for advice and with questions. He doesn’t like to bring up his own problems with them as he doesn’t want to bother them.

Snatcher, the Dwellers, the Subconites..they tend to just get a little burst of happiness seeing each other/saying hello

Snatcher just genuinely enjoys the company of the kids, and playing with them, and when they get so excited to talk to him it just makes him so happy, and he’s so protective of them...And just the same they respect him so much, and look up to him, and feel safe with him, and try to look out for him

They’re all there for each other and have a secure relationship 🖤

#ahit #a hat in time #evps #the snatcher #for someone who doesn’t like to read a lot on tumblr I sure do write a lot huh #apparitions

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maverick-werewolf · 4 years ago

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Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends Preview - Story 6, “Troubled Waters”

Interior illustration from The Hunt Never Ends story, “Troubled Waters”

We’re almost there - the book releases one week from today!

I am a very special kind of stressed, lemme tell you.

This preview is of the final story in the story collection and my personal favorite: “Troubled Waters.” If you didn’t know, this is a preview for my upcoming story collection, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends. It’s a book, but it’s something in-between a novel and a short story collection.

Each story in the book is individual and stands on its own, but they also go in order and build upon each other. So I’m not sure if one should really call it a novel, but it’s also different than just unrelated short stories. It bridges the gap between the two mediums.

Anyway, here’s another preview - enjoy!

For more info on the book itself, you can also check out this post. Also be sure to check out the Hunt Never Ends tag for a whole lot more book previews!

And remember - Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends is available for preorder (digital only; physical available on release date) on Amazon.com!

Pre-Order Link

Please note that, while the ebook is now available for preorder, Wulfgard: The Hunt Never Ends will also be available in paperback on October 30 from the same Amazon listing! Paperbacks cannot be preordered using Amazon’s system, however.

Be sure to check back October 30 for the physical (paperback) edition!

If you’re interested in purchasing the book digitally, you can now pre-order it right here and have it immediately on October 30!

(Paperback edition will be available on Amazon on October 30)

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

There were a lot of things Caiden knew how to do. Clean a sword. Maintain a bow or a crossbow, even customize the latter almost beyond recognition. Make his own arrows or bolts. Investigate a crime scene. Bandage a wound, make a tourniquet, brew a potion, hunt, forage, track, forge his own tools or weapons, carve wood, build houses or fortifications, command an army, cook meals…

But one thing he didn’t know how to do was read. And it pissed him off.

The beds in Castle Greywatch weren’t much. Some straw, changed daily, for a mattress, and some sackcloth to cover it. Any Venatori better off liked to buy their own beds, but Caiden wasn’t exactly drowning in coin. Following the dullahan encounter on Samhain, Kiya had given him a feather pillow as thanks – he didn’t want to think it had belonged to Relgar, but it probably had – and that was the nicest part of his sleeping arrangement in the castle.

He shifted his back against that pillow, currently squashed between him and the shoddy headboard and struggling to retain any fluffiness as a result. He tried to focus. Focus, he tended to be good at, but staring at the book in his hand almost made him wonder. It was a much smaller bestiary than the one Gwen had been given by Illikon, with a likewise smaller amount of illustrations.

If he had any sense, he would have just asked Gwen for help with reading. But his dignity – or maybe his stubbornness, or both – had long since thrown that idea out. He had all day to struggle with this, unless something came up. So, he reached to the nightstand beside him for the bottle of whiskey there. If there was something Castle Greywatch did have, it was decent booze.

Not that it seemed to be helping right now. It made things a little fuzzier, maybe. Slightly dulled that deep, gnawing, empty pain inside him, but not enough.

After they left Illikon, that feeling had grown louder, rowdier – tried to make itself more known. Whatever it was found claws to dig into his spine, using them to reach his skull. There, it chewed into him, left seeds of growing frustration – restless anger he couldn’t seem to muzzle. Any unwanted feelings of loneliness, of being lost, only got worse. A pulling, a need, telling him to do something.

After a few nights spent at Greywatch, it had grown to take a shape he almost recognized: hunger. Impossibly deep hunger that absolutely nothing satisfied.

That was why he couldn’t think. Not the drink. Not the page in front of him, covered in small symbols supposedly forming words, all of which made no sense. It was the smoldering flame in him turning into an empty inferno, and he had no idea how to put it out – or how to give it more fuel to burn.

Caiden’s eyes lost focus on the bestiary, staring at something inside rather than out. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, his grip on the book loosening, letting it droop.

Some tentative excitement came creeping up the stairs just outside the room. Caiden snapped the book shut and shoved it under his pillow, folding his arms and feeling an awful lot like a five-year-old trying to hide something embarrassing.

Except the bottle of whiskey. Couldn’t really hide that. Not like it mattered, anyway; she already knew it.

Gwen rounded the corner, peering into the room past the partially ajar door. She gave a few tentative knocks, eyes on him.

Caiden grunted. Yeah. Come in. You already have.

When she stepped into the room, Caiden instantly noted she was fully suited up, wearing her leather jerkin, belt of potions, weapons… Which for her, unlike him, was unusual to see when they were around the castle. Something was up.

Gwen paused, looked at him, followed his gaze to the far wall obviously in search of something interesting there, then at him again.

He met her stare evenly. “What?”

She shot the whiskey bottle a glance. “It’s a little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”

Caiden shrugged. Did that actually matter right now?

“Sure… Okay.” Cool worry filled the room, emanating from her, lapping jittery and mildly annoying waves against him. Gwen fumbled with a letter she’d been holding halfway behind her back. “Well, everyone in the great hall was talking missions, and a new one just came in. I snatched it up – thought it might be interesting. It’s not really like anything we’ve done before…”

An unnatural urge to snap at her, tell her to get on with it, rose in his throat and forced him to swallow it. Barely. It settled in his stomach, uncomfortable and heavy, and he tried to tell himself not to be a half-drunk asshole.

“What is it?” he prompted, voice coming out too flat as he struggled to find his usual patience.

That made Gwen screw up her brow at him more than a little, but she said, “There’s a village in the mountains not far from here – secluded little place called Norhaven. It doesn’t seem very noteworthy, except it has its own freshwater spring coming out of a mountain. But now a monster’s attacking them over the water, or that’s what they’re claiming. They say it’s been burning people, of all things, and it only attacks in the dark.”

For half a second, Caiden’s mind stuttered and ground to a halt. The first time he met something that only attacked in the dark, it had been his first monster hunt. It wasn’t something he liked recalling.

But he nodded.

“They… want us there as soon as possible,” Gwen added, almost tentatively. No, not almost. Definitely. Her nerves were frayed. She was worried about something, and it only seemed to get worse the longer she looked at him.

Caiden didn’t much like people worrying about him. He never had.

So he huffed, trying to figure out how to give what she might consider a ‘normal’ response. He stood and popped his neck in a short shock of painful relief. Even if it didn’t help the pinching headache he’d gotten from being bent over a book and trying to read for so long, it felt slightly better.

“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow morning,” said Gwen, still eying him like he was sick.

He eyed her right back. “I’m fine.”

“Caiden, you’ve drunk way more than usual lately – and that’s already saying something – and way earlier in the day. You know how terrible that is for you, right? And besides that, you’re talking even less.”

Gwen frowned. Some kind of hurt came off her then, enough to make his insides almost start to shrivel.

“You can trust me,” she said at length. “If something’s wrong, talk to me about it. Wouldn’t you be the first one to tell me that you need to know if I have something going on, so it doesn’t jeopardize our mission?”

Caiden’s jaw tightened, hard, before he gave it permission. You know she’s right. Yeah, she was right, and he couldn’t tell her. Every word, every phrase that came to mind sounded dismissive. Uncaring, or at least untrusting.

But Gwen gave up fairly quickly, still wearing a frown. She nodded and said, “Okay. Want to leave in an hour or two? It isn’t far to ride. We’ll get there before sundown and we can find a place to sleep.”

Caiden nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll meet you by the stables.”

With that, Gwen turned and left – though not without throwing a quick, and decidedly worried, look back at him over her shoulder.

(More preview under the cut!)

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“These attacks,” said Gwen, “do they usually happen around the spring, under the trees?”

Asger nodded. “Mostly.”

“And has anyone been in that cave since it started?”

“Where the source is? Gods, no. Gotta have a deathwish to walk into the dark after this thing.”

“Yeah,” Caiden said, already walking around the trees and toward the cave. Behind him, Asger sputtered, while Gwen’s quiet footfalls and building, anxious excitement followed in his wake.

“Go on back to town and get some rest, Asger,” Gwen called back to him.

Caiden stopped before the mouth of the cave and squinted into it, reaching for a potion on his belt: one to enhance his senses. Beside him now, Gwen shifted, tension radiating from her like constant lightning.

“If you drink that and that thing burns you, it’ll really hurt,” she said. “I heard some Venatori pass out from pain if something catches them with one of those.”

Caiden huffed. “I didn’t last time. I won’t this time either.”

Just as he drained the potion bottle, Asger’s panting caught up with them again as he stopped by their side, drawing his bodkin dagger and holding it up in a shaking hand. Gwen blinked at him, and Caiden furrowed his brow.

Asger’s face slowly drained of color as he stared at Caiden’s eyes – a side-effect of the potion was his eyes glowing. Not much, just softly, but it tended to scare the hell out of the average person.

“You probably shouldn’t come with us,” Gwen offered slowly, like she was trying to calm Asger down from some fit of panic. “Especially since… your weapon there looks like something my partner might pick his teeth with.”

“This’s a finely-made dagger, I’ll have you know,” Asger blurted. “And I’m the watchman here, this is part of my job. Let’s go on then—”

He stepped forward, but Caiden snapped one hand out and got a firm grip on Asger’s arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’m on point,” he said. “You shouldn’t come, but if you’re following us, then stay behind me. Gwen…”

“On it. I’ll cover your rear— I mean, the rear.” A blush quickly rose in her cheeks. “Tom ruined me,” Caiden faintly heard her mutter under her breath.

Caiden grunted. Then he turned and led the way.

Didn’t take long for his eyes to adjust, then to adapt, thanks to that potion. Faint moonlight spilling in let him see limestone walls slick with condensation and a violently gushing spring, churning the water on the far end of the cavern at the base of the wall. Spitting it out straight into the reservoir, the flow of it turning gentle by the time it left the cave.

Heavy mist hung in the air here, maybe kicked up by the water. But something didn’t seem right.

Then he realized why.

Fear washed down upon them like frigid rain – so much fear that, for half a second, it froze every muscle in Caiden’s body. His nerves pulled taut, ready to break and snap down on him like a whip, hard enough to leave a few more scars on his back. Hand shooting to his sword hilt in a white-knuckle grip, he drew in a sharp breath and fought the chill that ran fast up his spine and forced him to be afraid.

This wasn’t natural. Gwen, from the way she was suddenly fumbling with her gear, seemed to know it.

Asger, on the other hand, didn’t. He bellowed out a hoarse shout, nearly fell spinning around to face the exit, and ran for the cave mouth.

All around them, a shrill voice echoed, “Leave this place!”

It spoke the words very clearly – not the gibberish he’d been told about.

Everything happened at once. A rush of air ripped by him, trailing cold in its wake, like off the surface of the spring itself. Asger screamed, his heavy boots scuffing the stone as something made him stumble and fall. Caiden charged forward at a surging shadow, blade ready to swing.

And an arrow lodged itself in his upper arm with a hard lance of pain and a meaty thunk.

Caiden coughed out a grunt and staggered from the impact, the arrow locking up his sword arm and stopping him mid-strike. Whatever had come past him and attacked Asger seemed already gone, moving faster than he could even understand.

Gwen appeared beside him in an instant, hand on his uninjured left arm and sputtering apologies. “Caiden!? I – gods— I shouldn’t have tried to shoot it, it moved so fast—”

The cave around him was far from silent. Asger swore as he scrambled to his feet, Gwen kept on apologizing as she tried in vain to tug Caiden out of the cave until he, halfway in a stupor, finally staggered along after her.

Boots against stone. Grass under their feet, bright moonlight overhead. Plenty of pain in his right arm that twitched useless and limp at his side.

These sensations stayed, but something was missing.

He’d heard once that silence was golden. He had never understood what ‘silence’ entirely meant. This was the closest he’d ever come.

The whispers had stopped – the fleeting memories. All of it. The fear from the monster was gone – his, Asger’s, Gwen’s – he felt no terror from anyone, though they still looked afraid. Sounded afraid. Moved like it. But he couldn’t sense it. It didn’t invade his mind, twist into him, and try to make itself at home.

And he suddenly felt blind. Deaf. Neither of those things, yet both at once – because it was gone. A sense he had known for his entire life, something that was always there. Gone, no trace left. He felt dumb.

Caiden blinked. Furrowed his brow. His shoulders tensed, pulled against the arrow still biting deep into his arm, and made him wince.

What the hell was going on?

In the corner of his vision, he saw Gwen fumble for something in a pouch on her belt, only to draw out the shattered neck of a bottle. She swore and threw it aside, turning her attention to him instead as he stared straight ahead at nothing in particular.

“Caiden – Caiden, hey, look at me!” Gwen grabbed the harness around his shoulders and tugged on it hard enough for his eyes to snap to her and stare. Her face was pale. “That arrow was poisoned. Okay? You’re probably woozy right now; it’s very fast-acting…”

“Gwen—”

She sucked in a hard breath and blurted, “Caiden if you say ‘I’m fine’ I swear to Athena I will punch you in the stomach.”

He paused and cocked his head at her, his mouth ever so slightly ajar.

“Listen,” she said, voice quivering and straining to sound strong, “the bottle for the antidote I had on me broke – I have more of it, but it’s in my saddlebag. We have to get you to the inn so we can get that arrow out and I can give you the antidote. Okay?”

“Just pull it out,” Caiden mumbled, his words coming out slurred.

“I’m not doing that, you don’t just suddenly pull an arrow out – there are procedures for this!”

One sharp tug on his uninjured arm later, and he was following her back down the mountain path, both of them led by a stumbling Asger. The watchman looked at a deep welt on his forearm, his flesh twisted and reddened – what was left of it. Most of it had burned off entirely. Asger swore more colorfully than the average sailor, wearing a deep grimace.

He separated from them with a few hurried words to Gwen – words Caiden should’ve heeded, but paid no attention to – and disappeared into a nearby home. Gwen kept leading the way, up the stairs and into the inn, still tugging on Caiden’s uninjured arm.

“By Jove!” the innkeeper shouted, starting up in an instant from where he’d been sitting in his quiet tavern.

He quickly started throwing questions, which Gwen just as quickly deflected. She mostly did that by dumping a handful of coins on the counter and asking for two rooms. All the while, Caiden leaned his uninjured arm on the nearest table and pulled in one deep breath after another.

Pain quickly found its way across his body, tightening every muscle and settling heavily in his chest, like having molten lead poured into his lungs. It didn’t leave him any room to breathe, and that didn’t leave him much room to think.

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