#I feel like a goddamn fanfiction.net author's note

[scrawlingwithstyle]

One Good Turn (3/?)

The story of how “you,” an apparently average person, join the Avengers. A Marvel fanfiction based on my friend’s recurring dream.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1219

Tags: @arrow-guy 

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Your next stop is a sterile lab.

A man with glasses and curly, salt-and-pepper hair looks up as you enter and smiles warmly.

“So you’re the one who helped out on the subway!” he says, standing and approaching you. “I’m Dr. Banner.” He extends a hand. “Bruce.”

You shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“Nice to meet you,” he replies. “Would you mind taking a seat? This will only take a few minutes.”

Steve leans on the wall by the door while you pull up a stool.

“Do you donate blood?” the doctor asks, opening a kit. You notice the collection tubes before he pulls out a syringe.

Your stomach turns and you grip the edges of your seat. “Are you taking any?”

His eyebrows draw together in concern. “I’m beginning to think maybe I shouldn’t. Are you alright?”

You take a deep breath to curb your nausea as he hides the needle from your view. “I donate sometimes, but I usually have to prepare myself mentally.”

He nods, puts the syringe back in the kit and closes it. “What about one of those DNA kits—the kind for learning your heritage?”

“Is that what we’re doing? A DNA test?” you ask, loosening your grip on the edges of the stool.

“Yes,” he says, rummaging in a drawer. He pulls out a tiny plastic cup and draws a line across it with a sharpie. “It’d be a little harder to test, but saliva works too. Fill it to the line. It helps to imagine eating sour candy.”

You take the cup and start spitting. “What are you testing for?” you ask.

“The possibility of developing innate powers,” he replies. “None of us Avengers are like that, but there are lots of people in the world who are.”

You work up a bit more saliva before you ask. “You’re an Avenger?”

A wry grin spreads across his face. “You’d probably recognize me better when I’m green.”

“Wait . . .” You set the cup on the counter. “You’re the Hulk?”

Banner puts a lid on your cup and nods. “Mm-hm.”

“How do you change so much?” you ask. “Does it hurt?”

He shakes his head in dismissal. “Right now isn’t a great time to talk about him. You probably still have a long day ahead of you, and you won’t run out of questions anytime soon.”

You stand and shake his hand again before following Steve out.

“Was he kidding?” you ask. “Is he really the Hulk, or is he just messing with me?”

Steve doesn’t look at you, but he smiles. “Yeah. It’s a bit more complicated than that, but he is the Hulk.”

You follow him down a series of hallways before you reach another room. It’s a wide-open gym space, brightly lit with fluorescent bulbs. On the far end, the heavy equipment gives way to a bare area, with only a thick mat on the floor. Nearest the mat is a set of punching bags. Natasha is stretching nearby, using what appears to be a stool to overextend her splits. You have to hold back a low whistle. It’s not every day you see someone that flexible.

“Oh,” she says as she catches sight of you and Steve. “You’re already done. How did it go?”

“It ‘remains to be seen,’” you reply, using air quotes.

She grins, switching her position to stretch the other way. “That sounds about right.”

Steve leaves you with her, stating that he’ll be waiting in the lobby area to take you home.

“We won’t be long,” Natasha says as he walks away.

Once she gets up, she says, “You’re not really prepared for physical training today, so I’ll just show you around.”

“Hard to be prepared when an Avenger just shows up on my doorstep,” you reply with a half-grin.

She gives a short laugh. “Fair.” She shows you the different machines and equipment, then leads you down past some weightlifting equipment to a couple of doors, and pulls a key out of her pocket. “These are the locker rooms. This is the key to your locker.”

You look down and see that your key has a number etched into the head. It seems pretty straightforward. “Thanks.”

“When you come to train with me, make sure to bring a change of clothes. We have showers and provide towels.” She nods her head toward the door. “If you want to explore the locker room a bit, you can, but it’s not like it’s a maze in there.”

You shrug. “I’ll worry about that next time.”

She nods. “Alright.” She walks you toward the exit. “Do you remember where the elevators are?”

You glance at the door as you recall the route you walked to get here. “Uh… yeah.”

“Great. The lobby is a straight shot from there. See you!”

You wave and turn to go out the door. Finding the elevator is a little harder than you thought, but it doesn’t take long.

As he told you, Steve is waiting for you in the front of the lobby, and someone is chatting with him. “Oh, there they are,” he says as he catches a glimpse of you.

You give a small wave to the other person as you approach.

“Hi, I’m Clint,” he says, offering a hand.

You shake it and give your name. “Hawkeye, right?”

He nods, a slight smile flashing across his face.

The reality is finally starting to hit that every person you’ve met in the last couple of hours is a fucking Avenger. “I… I used to love archery as a kid,” you stammer, suddenly unable to think of a single other normal thing to say. “I never got very good at it,” you add, feeling your face flush, “but it was fun.”

He gives a wry smile, but doesn’t respond directly. “Nice to meet you,” he says as Steve opens the door. “I guess I’ll be seeing you again later.”

You nod and wave as you turn to walk, not trusting your mouth anymore.

As you get to the car, Steve asks, “So how are you feeling?”

You don’t even need to think before you answer. “Nervous as hell.”

He chuckles. “You’ll get used to it.”

You grimly press your lips together. “I might.”

After he pulls out onto the street, he reaches into his pocket. “I almost forgot.” He pulls out a key card. “You’ll need this to get into the tower when you come alone. Don’t lose it.”

You scramble for your wallet to put it away before you forget.

He chats with you about your availability for the next few weeks before dropping you off at your apartment building. You're expected almost every day for at least the first week, whenever you have time. You hold back a sigh. There goes your after-work wind-down time for the week.

“I’ll let Nat know when to expect you, then,” he says as you open your door.

“Thanks,” you reply. “See you later!”

He waves as you shut the door.

The moment you reach your apartment and shut the door behind you, you suck in a deep breath and let out a long groan. This is either going to be the coolest thing you’ve ever done, or the scariest. Maybe both. You think it’s safest to bet on both.

[novelelitist]

10 Years of Writing Fan-Fiction

Today is the 10th anniversary of the very first fan-fiction I ever shared on the internet!

I was inspired to celebrate this anniversary by a conversation I had with some of my bros. It occurred to me (while we were discussing old internet culture) that I’ve been weebing it up online for a long time. So I looked up my old Fanfiction.net account and shit bricks when I realized that the anniversary was coming up. Seems kinda lame to celebrate, but it wasn’t the fact that it still exists that motivated me. 

What really motivated me was this:

My SVS (My “Someone Very Special”) was a wish-fulfillment story for myself inspired by my own long-term affection toward my first crush (that lasted way longer than it should have). “SVS” was how I signed an anonymous valentine I sent him in 6th grade, per the suggestion of a friend. Imagine being a teenager and having your shitty wish-fulfillment fan-fiction get popular? Especially during the day of ridiculous authors’ notes and author interjections? Those were weird times.

This was the date of the last update I ever posted to my FFN account. There was a general “peace out cub scout” message I left on my WIP stories and the ones I’d recently completed. My active FFN days were from March 27, 2010 to October 21, 2011. That is why the following blew my goddamn mind and pushed me to share this milestone with the people that follow me in 2020:

218,086 WORDS.

Forget everything else, like how lame I thought writing fan-fiction was, or how lame I actually was, or how lame everybody that liked my shitty teenage writing was. That word count is spread over a year and seven months. From ages 15-16, I shared over 200,000 words. This count doesn’t include all the stories that never got uploaded, the original fiction I never shared, or the giant stack of notebooks I filled during high school (that I still have). It doesn’t include the 60k+ word self-published novella teenage-me wrote (poorly) either. 

Unfuckingreal. I can barely believe I did that, but I remember too much to pretend it wasn’t me, so whoops. Made myself cringe again. 

The writing itself is childish. It’s horribly immature. It’s super dated. There’s a ton of shit I would not write the way I did as a teenager, including off-color and disrespectful words, behaviors, and attitudes--some of which came from younger-me’s own struggles with sexuality and gender identity. 

Do not mistake me retrospectively-supporting the act of younger-me writing these things with me supporting the things younger-me wrote. The stories from ages 15-16 in my life were written by a [long list of negative adjectives] teenager. Writing was her only sense of freedom or security. Teenagers act like shit for a variety of reasons, and I was no exception. That’s how it goes. 

For this occasion, I deleted all the old stories from my youthful FFN account today. I’m a more measured, well-spoken, tasteful adult in 2020. I don’t smile upon shitty things I wrote/said/did, but I’m not going to pretend I never did anything wrong, so I’m making sure you know that I admit to doing this and didn’t “delete evidence so I could deny it” or something like that. I downloaded every story so I can review them and make sure I’ve grown and changed as much as I imagine I have in 10 years. You can grow up and beyond that and feel good about how much you’ve changed since then. 

See, all of those words helped me grow into the written style and voice I have now. If I hadn’t written so goddamn much throughout puberty and done so much flat-out wrong I wouldn’t have grown past it so quickly as a writer or a person. If I hadn’t drowned myself in writing, I wouldn’t have improved. 

I’m proud of all of the words younger-me wrote, even if they are dated, stupid, and shitty. Again, not of the content itself, but the fact I wrote it. Honestly the technical quality is above average for fan-fiction both in 2010 and 2020, and technical quality is something I brand myself with in 2020.

Now that the serious break is over, for shits and giggles, let’s look at some examples from My SVS that you’ll totally see current-2D in. It’s a 100% obvious self-insert for wish-fulfillment that I am rolling my eyes at and can’t even read fully because gag. 

Okay that’s enough dated-cringe for the time-being. Now that all of the stories are stored safely on this shitty dinosaur laptop I’m using, I can freely share the stats of the stories from that whole one year and seven months I actively used FFN. You can look forward to more informative cringe later when I talk about what writing fan-fiction on different sites in different “eras” has been. It’s in my drafts right now so I’m going to finish that, but I wanted to share this retrospective on why I think this day is kind of important for me as a transformative-fiction writer, and yeah that’s it thank you for sticking around on this terrible 2D Trash blog, I hope this wasn’t too boring of a look into my head.

[recurring-polynya]

So, as I come into the homestretch on the 90k word fanfic I am working on, I wanted to do a rambling appreciation post for all my fav long form (~100k) Renji/Rukia fanfics. JFC, I almost died writing this thing, these people are blessings unto the earth.

I had to go far afield to find all of these, as you will see, but they are worth it.

The Roots of Heaven by paperiuni is just astonishingly good. It’s an Ichigo/Renji/Rukia OT3. Rukia is MIA in the war, and after Ichigo gets a hint of her spirit ribbon, he and Renji roadtrip their way into another dimension after her. I cannot emphasize enough how beautifully crafted this is, it is basically amazing. It was written before Bleach ended, so some of the shinigami/zanpakutou worldbuilding isn’t canon, it’s possibly better (I am thinking particularly of the part where Renji loses his sword in a bet, and then re-imprints Zabimaru onto a new sword, which is just friggin’ cool) There is also an amazing fight scene where Rukia and Renji have to fight Hollow Ichigo, and Rukia kisses Renji and then hops on his bankai and zooms off into battle, and this is Peak RenRuki Romance in my book, nothing will ever beat this scene. Uhhhh, fair warning: there’s a threesome at the end, because of course there is.

A Thin Red Line by A Fine Piece is really a ByaHisa story, but it’s also an excellent character study on Rukia and Renji. It’s a retelling of all of Bleach, starting with Rukia’s adoption, where Hisana never died and it’s just brilliant and beautifully written. Thanks to Hisana, Rukia and Renji maintain their friendship after Rukia’s adoption, and in some ways, it prevents them from ever really connecting the way they do in the canon storyline. There are a lot of really interesting variations that I don’t want to spoil, but my favorite aspect of this fic is that Renji becomes extremely devoted to Hisana (as in, he brings her someone’s head) and it’s perfect. Appropos of noting, during the Rukia’s Execution storyline, Ukitake makes Renji schlep the Shihoin shield all around the Seireitei, and I think about that a lot and that’s the source of why Ukitake is so fond of Renji in all my fanfics. It’s not finished and I doubt it ever will be-- I don’t know if she intended for R&R to ever get together or not, but their relationship has enough tension in it that you can definitely convince yourself that it’s just a slow burn. Oh, also, if I ever start talking about Hisana as though she has some sort of canon personality, I’ve just forgotten, again, that this fic isn’t canon.

Become a Ghost by @hardlyfatal is a goddamn delight and has been a huge influence on me. So it is, of all things, a Byakuya/Orihime romance. Orihime dies of appendicitis and goes to Soul Society and has some good times and falls in love with Byakuya and then they fight Aizen. Now, I generally don’t read Byakuya ships because I just cannot drum up any empathy for Byakuya being in love. My brain can’t do it. He’s such a butt. But somehow, this crackship works, it’s really sweet. I cannot explain it. Maybe because Orihime is perfect and any thinking being should fall in love with her? Perhaps. Anyway, Renji and Rukia are also in it, and they are adorbs together for sure, but also there’s a lot of really cute friendship-with-Orihime stuff and I love love love it. It is also a masterclass in Byakuya dragging Renji, which we all know is my favorite thing in the world.

Aside: This fanfic changed my life. So for starters, Keigo dies in the first line of the fanfic and then is basically never mentioned again. This is the most baller move in all of Bleach fanfic. So many plot turns of this story are just...extremely fanfiction. And what I mean by that is that they are ridiculous, but I, the reader, am rubbing my hands together and shoving popcorn in my mouth. I literally cackle whenever I read this thing. Anyway, I was reading this for, like the third time, and it occurred to me that, I, too, could just write whatever I wanted and that someone else on the internet might get a kick of it, even if it’s a little ridiculous or silly. It’s just fanfic, and fanfic is great. So, if you have ever enjoyed something I wrote where Renji and Rukia are texting emoji to each other, or going to the Seireitei Waffle House, or getting drunk and making out, you have this story to thank.

Many Parts, by HipsterL. This is another full-Bleach retelling, where Rukia and Ichigo are swapped. This sort of an entire sub-genre, but what sets this one apart in my mind is delinquent Karakura teen Fullbringer Renji. I love him so much. I cannot get enough of him or his tattooed single mom or his awkward friendship with Ishida (who is basically the same as usual). Also, Rukia is being raised by single dad Byakuya who is very obviously a former captain who noped out on Soul Society, Isshin-style. Renji is just, like, always over their house? And Byakuya feeds him? I am so in love with this whole concept. Rukia and Renji have a very cute, slow-burn teen romance, and it’s all very sweet. Ongoing.

Shadows Surround Us by Meglee06. So this perhaps not the most skillfully written fanfic in the world, but I want to give the author a lot of credit for actually writing a longform RenRuki story. This is literally the purest one I can think of. The plot is okay, there’s a mysterious bad guy and they fight him. That’s not the important part. The important part is that Renji cannot manage to keep his shirt on in this story. He must spend 40% of this fanfic walking around shirtless in situations where he should honestly be wearing a shirt, and I respect that so much.

I think there may be more on Ye Olde Fanfiction.net, but I refuse to make a login and I can’t find anything on there. Second aside: I have an unreasonable grudge against fanfiction.net because I remember when it came out. I, a teen, was lovingly maintaining a hand-htmled Geocities page of personally curated fanfics (I was in a satellite X-Men fandom at the time). We called it running an archive in those days, and we were all horrified by the concept but also... it was... so easy to upload things? And then there were 10k Harry Potter fanfics on it. I’m sure there’s, like, 1M now, I’m scared to check. The moral of this story, friends, is that I am old as balls.

I am sure there are others out there; like most people, there are some ships I do not care for, and I think you can forgive me for not jumping into 100k words worth of that. If I’ve missed any, feel free to rec, particularly if RenRuki is the main ship.

Do people like fanfic recs? I can do more of these in the future for other topics, if there’s interest. I, uh, kinda read a lot of fanfic.

[3amcorners]

When Tools Become Human - Ch 12: Resolve

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! We finally reached the final chapter of When Tools Become Human! Thank you to everyone who’s been reading and supporting the series from the beginning! It really means a lot to me, especially because this series has actually found a nice place in my heart after writing this for about half a year!! 

Summary: [KiruMaki Prime Minister/Assassin AU] In light of the new prime minister, Kirumi Toujou, an uprising has occurred, making the town scream in riots against those entitled to the name “Ultimate.” This uprising, however, believes that they can make all their troubles go away: an Ultimate as a tool to resolve all their issues. AO3 || Fanfiction.net

“Goodbye, Toujou.”

“NO!”

A boom in the room.

It leaves a ringing in her ears and reverberates loudly throughout.

The firing of the gun is all she seemed to focus on in that very moment. The sound of the bullet leaving the barrel at rapid speed is what she wanted to avoid. The target of that gunpoint is what she wanted to protect.

That’s all it took.

The image of that scene with all else being blocked from viewpoint by blinding white light: the pointing of the gun, the look at the victim’s face. Just like targeting her prey in her missions.

Maki breathes heavily from sprinting. How she manages to get where she did in a nick of time is an unknown to her. In that very moment, she stands, about to cripple under the pain in her shoulder blade. She looks down to the kneeling figure that too looks back at her. Under those beautiful bangs of silver, Maki can see how Kirumi’s green eyes widen in shock — fear or awe.

“Haru…kawa-san…” Kirumi manages out Maki’s name, and Maki just grants Kirumi a small smile to tell her that she’s alright. Kirumi doesn’t flinch at the sight though, only overwhelmed by awe at Maki’s stance against the visible pain.

Without giving Kirumi another sign, Maki turns around to look back at the one who held the gun, who merely scoffs at Maki.

“Don’t you see how your feelings are only going to destroy you, you tool?”

“Commander!” Maki yells at the top of her lung.

At the shout, she sees something that she wouldn’t expect of the Commander: she shifted back slightly.

The Commander purses her lips and smiles venomously, “So, you’re going against me now, huh? When I’m the new prime minister?”

“Shut up!” Maki retorts, stomping the ground, “Nothing says you’re prime minister just yet!”

“And yet, you’re going to go against me? Your old commander?”

“When you treat people the way you do?” In defiance, Maki threateningly points her knife at the Commander. “Absolutely.”

“God, you are so stupid,” The Commander just shakes her head and mutters to herself. She turns back to Maki and gestures, “Did you not learn anything from all those years of teaching you? Drilling the lessons into your mind until you recite it perfectly back to me?”

“All I learned from you is how horrible you are!” Maki yells back, “The things you did to me. The torture I had to deal with. All of it was so pointless! And for what? To break our minds so we can be your goddamn tool!”

“You’re a soldier, aren’t you? You listen to your commander. It’s just part of the job.”

“I never wanted that! I never wanted to be a soldier! I just wanted to live my life!” Maki repeats again, “I never wanted to be a soldier, and I never in hell wanted to be a goddamn tool to someone like you!”

“But you would have been a tool to create a better world! A world where we normies can actually shine! A world where we aren’t the ones that are tools! Where the Ultimates live to serve us! A greater cause!” The Commander spreads her arms out with a big smile on her face. “You would have been a sacrifice to many for a better life!”

Maki shakes her head abruptly at the Commander’s words before raising her voice, “You don’t get it at all! That’s not the way to do things!”

“And what? Talking it out will somehow work?”

“It will!” Maki yells, “You’re just far too blind to realize that it will! Because I believe in Toujou’s work! She can make it work.”

“But she’s supposed to serve us!” The Commander gestures back to herself, her words are sharp to the sound.

“No!” Maki slams her foot again against the floor. “You really don’t get it! What you want is to make a tool out of everyone! And… no human is a tool to anyone! I learned that!”

“Oh, from her?” The Commander points to Kirumi, who is slowly raising herself to stand behind Maki.

“If it weren’t for Toujou, I wouldn’t have remembered what it meant to live! I forgot what it meant to live, not as a soldier, not as a tool, but as me! She taught me the world isn’t as cold as I once thought under you! She taught me… that no one deserves to be a tool… that they all deserve love. To do the things they love and do what they want!” Maki cries out before announcing, keeping her blade pointed towards the Commander, “No one is a tool for each other!”

As Maki remains standing there, she feels a hand — that gentle hand she loves to hold and feel — against her uninjured shoulder. She keeps her eyes front at the Commander, but she can feel Kirumi hold her empty hand firmly. They tighten their grips against each other, standing together with so much more strength than each individual could hold on their own. Standing side by side. As equals.

“There is no use for being tools to each other anymore!” Kirumi continues Maki’s argument. “Let’s set aside our differences and work together for a peaceful society.”

And with determination burning in the irises of their eyes, Maki and Kirumi stand against the Commander. And from them, the air grows still.

The other stares at them, appalled by their arguments, taking it in… but—

Snort.

Chuckle.

A rambunctious laughter floods the still air, and the two grow confused at the reaction.

The Commander bends over, takes off her hat and runs a hand through her hair as she continues to laugh loudly.

Unable to read the air, the two stand completely puzzled as they watch the Commander continue chortling.

Soon enough, the Commander’s laugh begins to die down and she puts her hat back on before cocking her head up to look at the two.

“Are you kidding me? Are you really really kidding me right now?” She tries to repeat through each little laugh that seeps into her speech.

“No.” Maki responds promptly.

“You have to be!” The Commander keeps her head down and stares at the floor, “Who were you two kidding? Coming in here, acting all strong because you have each other, and thinking that everyone will just fall everso easily to your dumb, pathetic dream.”

“It’s not dumb. It will happen,” Kirumi declares.

“Oh shut it,” The Commander rolls her head back up to look at Maki, “You can keep playing make-believe or whatever. Considering that you are fairly young to be prime minister, guess you wouldn’t have known that it’s always been like this. Always had it so that society would just fall into the hands of the Ultimates. People have been raised on it for so long — even you both. So you think you can change a person’s mind that easily?”

“No. It won’t be that easy, but we have to keep trying,” Maki says, “We will no longer serve as tools for one another. We will all work together!”

“No. No,” The Commander turns her head back down. Her left hand reaches behind her and she flicks her wrist to the side to reveal a baton. “It won’t be that easy. If it were that easy, then things would be solved already!”

“But brute force won’t make it any better!”

“I refuse! I refuse to believe it will be that easy!” The Commander keeps repeating, beginning a stride towards the two before it turns into a sprint, “I refuse to believe it will be that easy!”

She keeps running towards Kirumi and Maki, both standing in defense against the Commander, as the Commander raises her baton and tries to swing it against Maki. Maki dodges easily and attempts to make a kick at the Commander. The Commander flies upon the impact. Kirumi attempts to pin down the Commander, and the Commander punches Kirumi in the face before hurrying back up and trying to attack Kirumi once again. Maki makes a grab for the Commander’s leg to stop her, and the Commander tries to swing the baton against Maki before Kirumi tackles the Commander out of Maki’s hold. The two struggle for the Commander’s baton, Kirumi gripping the Commander’s wrist tighter and tighter to make the Commander let it go, but the Commander keeps it strong in her grip. The Commander then kicks Kirumi in the shin, making Kirumi bend down instinctively before the Commander tries to hit Kirumi with the baton, but Maki wouldn’t let her. Maki makes a grab for the Commander’s wrist and tries to do what Kirumi did, but her strength is not enough to pin the Commander.

The Commander hastily shoves Maki off, but Maki brings her knife straight into the Commander’s shoulder, blood penetrating the Commander’s uniform almost instantly.

“Aaaaaaaaaaah!!!” The Commander lets out a bloodcurdling scream and lets go of her baton. She stumbles backwards, gripping onto the bloody region tightly as though to stop the bleeding. She huffs heavily in fury towards the attackers.

Kirumi hurries to Maki’s side and shoves the Commander on the ground and pins her down with more force. The Commander struggles under it, but the pain stops her from trying.

Maki looks down at the dropped baton and slowly reaches down for it before looking at the pinned woman, and that’s when something clicks in her mind, like lights switching on.

Those icy blue eyes that she used to fear from the cold glares. No longer did they make her freeze. No, in fact, for the first time in the longest time, Maki feels… free. Strong. She isn’t afraid anymore. Not when a pair of green eyes look at her with assurance — strength that she needed. Just that is enough to power her against the eyes she now challenges. The eyes that are merely crazed with power, blinded and desperate for the goal they yearn to see.

“Soldiers! What are you doing just standing there?! Get them!” The Commander orders, darting her eyes to any soldier she can lay her eyes on, but no one moves upon hearing that command. Her blue eyes that used to be like ice give way to tears as she screeches, “Move! Damn it!”

“Just give up already,” Maki starts, but the Commander keeps trying to struggle under Kirumi.

“No, never,” The Commander refuses, “You won’t accomplish anything with your stupid plan. You won’t… make everyone happy. You’ll only make them suffer.”

“You’re wrong.” Maki says, “Your plan would have made things worse. We’ll put an end to this fight together.”

“You’ll see…You’ll see when everyone doesn’t listen to you…Then you will know that you should have listened to me.”

“No.” Maki takes a step closer to the Commander’s lying figure. “I know. I know I won’t regret making this decision with Toujou. I believe in Toujou, and I will gladly listen and help her side by side. And you? You’re no longer my commander. I won’t listen to you anymore.”

The pinned down woman growls under Kirumi’s hold and struggles again. And suddenly, she breaks free from Kirumi’s hold, casting Kirumi aside and screaming as the woman darts to Maki, but Maki raises the baton and smacks the woman unconscious.

Then it’s silent.

But this silence feels different from the silence she has faced when confronting the lying woman.

It dawns on Maki in that very moment, eyes glossing over the lying figure of the woman. All that she’s faced in her past and all that has happened just now.

A conclusion that allows her to finally — finally be at ease.

...Well, not just yet.

Maki darts her eyes instantly on her next target. She stomps her way over to certain silver haired woman and grabs the woman by the collar.

“What the hell were you thinking?!” Maki screams at Kirumi, “I told you not to try and sacrifice yourself like that! We were supposed to work together!”

“We did, didn’t we?” Kirumi raises a brow.

“In the fight, yes! But the plan was—”

“To follow through with the first offer, yes,” Kirumi continues, “But I realized that we can use the other plan to our advantage at that moment.”

“To sacrifice yourself?!” Maki shakes Kirumi furiously.

“Well, call it a wager,” Kirumi smiles with a twinkle in her eye, “I wagered that you would come save me, regardless. Because I trust you.”

And with that, Maki falls silent to Kirumi’s smooth words. Her words and need to call Kirumi stupid for going through with the plan and taking a leap of faith was skewered completely by her bashfulness. Kirumi… trusts her? She trusted her that much to take such a slim chance of survival? Maki was completely stunned.

But her need to plant a kiss on Kirumi’s lips in that moment was stronger than her shock because in that moment, she is just happy that Kirumi is okay. And that Kirumi trusted her that greatly.

When they part from one another, Maki lets go of Kirumi’s collar go and flings her arms around Kirumi.

Muttering quietly into the crook of the maid’s neck, Maki whispers, “I love you.”

A hand holds the back of her head gently and closer to Kirumi.

“I love you, too.”

That day, after hearing all the commotion from inside the room, Shuichi and the bodyguards that came with Kirumi and Maki hurried into the room to find the former Commander knocked out. Kirumi filled Shuichi on all that had happened, and immediately Shuichi asked for the head of the bodyguards to take the Commander under their custody.

When all the soldiers of the Regime had found out all that happened from Maki, to Maki’s surprise, they seemed rather at ease. That’s when one of the soldiers confirmed with Maki that what Saito said in the room was true: that after the encounter during the ball Saito took Maki’s words to heart and began talking to people. As his words began to spread, more and more people began to believe in Saito’s words, but they were all too afraid to speak against the Commander, and while Maki was frustrated at their inability to make a move, she held sympathy for them as well. Honestly, she was just happy that Saito would even think twice on her words, considering all that happened with losing his friend that night at the ball. From then on, the soldiers vowed to basically be new bodyguards for Kirumi as together they decide to make the ongoing battle between the Ultimates and the norms finally draw to a close.

She hasn’t worn something so formal ever since the ball, now that she thinks about it. She couldn’t even remember if it was this stiff when she wore the dress at the ball, but perhaps it was because this is a suit that it was all the more stiff. She doesn’t really get why she has to wear something like this, but the other said that it was just for formalities — something that you just had to do.

She has a couple of minutes before the big meeting, keeping an eye on the clock that hangs high on her wall, so she’s been trying to review and repeat all that she wants to say and all the things she wanted to accomplish in the meeting. This was to be the big announcement for the greatest achievement they’ve made. Sure, it’s been a couple of months (give or take) since they began to work, but now, it’s coming true.

She keeps telling herself that she has to manage her files and review, but she knows full well that her mind is elsewhere — via the window she’s been staring out of for the past half hour.

Maki rests her chin in her hand, as she watches birds fly past her window. The sky looks a brilliant blue that brings her tranquility without a single cloud to block the bright sun’s ray.

There’s a knock on her door, and Maki turns to look at the visitor.

The door clicks quietly and creaks open gently. In steps Kirumi, wearing a similar looking suit as Maki. There’s a smile on the other’s face as she holds the doorknob.

“Harukawa-san, are you ready?” Kirumi asks.

Perplexed, Maki looks up at the clock before looking back at Kirumi, “I still have a lot of time.”

“You haven’t organized your files?”

“I did. I’m just reviewing,” Maki hops off the windowsill, as Kirumi walks over to meet Maki.

Kirumi places both of her hands on Maki’s shoulders before smiling, “You do not have to worry, dear. I know you’re nervous.”

“…You read me way too easily.” Maki rests her hand on one of Kirumi’s hands.

“It’s what I do best,” Kirumi closes her eyes. “You will be fine, I assure you. We’ve been working on this together for so long. I am so happy that we can finally announce this.”

“I’m just happy that we finally have a solution.”

Kirumi rubs Maki’s shoulders and look at the woman before her with eyes that speak Oh you.

“Still, I can’t help but wonder... Why me? I’m still an Ultimate you know.” Maki looks up at Kirumi, and Kirumi sighs.

“Because you’ve grown up with these people. You know them better than anyone. You know the way they feel and that’s why your voice is the strongest for their opinions.” Kirumi argues, squeezing Maki’s shoulder tightly, “You’ll do just fine.”

“Alright. Alright I get it.” Maki winces at the tight grip on her shoulder. Then she admits with a blush creeping on her face, “But I’m happy that we’ll be working together more.”

“If there’s anything I want more, it would be to work together always,” Kirumi reaches to hold Maki’s hands before placing a kiss on Maki’s forehead.

The two gaze upon each other, joy and love expressed so easily on their face to each other. If it weren’t these two, their expression wouldn’t have been readable.

“Hey… Toujou?” Maki asks.

“What’s the matter?”

“How much time do we have left?” Maki asks in concern.

Kirumi checks her watch, “Just a couple of minutes. I suppose we should head over, yes?”

“Oh… then…” Maki tucks some of her hair behind her ear before leaning in towards Kirumi, lips put together and pecking Kirumi’s lips. She doesn’t speak another word after that touch, too embarrassed.

Kirumi only smiles at the gesture, “I love that despite how long we’ve been together, you still get embarrassed when you kiss me.”

“Shut up…” Maki hides her face in shame into her hands.

“It’s no problem,” Kirumi leans in and kisses Maki’s lips, and the feeling is so warm that Maki feels ethereal in that brief moment.

Stunned, Maki just watches as Kirumi walks towards the door of her office.

Kirumi turns back to Maki, “Well, shall we go, new representative?”

Maki’s lips quiver into a slight smile and nods before walking to Kirumi.

At the door, she looks back out the window, back to the cloudless sky and the shining sun.

How cliche did the scene feel to her — that the sunlight shines greatly today of all days.

But she doesn’t mind it because she knows that from today on, it will be peaceful under that warm and sunny light.

[theguardianangel-fanfiction]

Once Bitten, Twice Dead

Summary: It’s been two years since the beginning, and only five days since Clementine met them. But somehow, things got so much worse, and Carver was just the beginning. [Season 2 AU/canon divergent. New situations, characters, etc.] Chapter 12: FUBAR. Author’s Note: I will be posting 1 chapter a day on Tumblr. Each chapter is already posted on AO3 and Fanfiction. I will resume posting on those 2 websites on October 1st, 2017. [Main Blog] [AO3] [FanFiction.Net]

Clementine’s gaze jumped to every single body that was laid out in front of them. Some were on their backs and some of them were on their stomachs; one was sitting up, propped up against a large rock. But there was one thing they had in common: fresh blood covered the faces and heads of every single one of them. None of them were walkers.

Pete took a step forward towards the closest corpse, a male on his back. He knelt down to examine the body, then poked it twice with the barrel of his rifle. He stood back up to his full height with a noise that sounded something like a cross between a sigh and a groan.

“Full o’ holes.” Pete told Clementine and Nick.

Clementine couldn’t take her eyes away from the bloody corpses, but managed to choke out, “… Who do you think did this?” Nick, on the other hand, stayed silent.

“Not sure yet.” Pete replied over his shoulder. “… But it ain’t your average group of thugs – that much, I know.”

A miniscule shake of his head was the only thing that clued both of them in that Nick could even move. His eyebrows knitted together as he grimaced and said quietly, “Think about it.” His eyes widened. “You’re Carver. What do you do?”

Carver. There was that name again, and Clementine had had enough of the mystery.

“Who’s Carver?” she finally managed to say, glancing to Nick.

Nick and Pete shared a look, though neither answered her. Instead, Pete simply looked away and told Nick, “Check those guys there.” He nodded to several of the corpses behind him. Nick began to walk over, clutching his rifle like a lifeline. “Be careful. Some of ‘em might still be moving.”

Annoyance and a small amount of fear filled Clementine. Pete trusted her – and Nick seemed to as well – but they still wouldn’t tell her who Carver was. And now she knew that they seemed sure that he was behind the massacre remnants they had just stumbled upon.

Pete and Nick both set off in opposite directions – Nick towards the tree line, and Pete towards the river. Clementine looked both ways and decided immediately that she trusted Pete’s sense of direction and safety a lot more than she trusted Nick’s.

She carefully approached Pete, who knelt down to examine the body of a dark skinned man. “What can I do?” Clementine asked quietly, staring at the corpse’s bloody face. Had it not been for the blood, the man may have looked like he was sleeping or unconscious.

“See if you can find anything else.” Pete murmured, looking away from the corpse.

“… Like what?”

“Somethin’ that might tell us who did this.” he responded, glancing around at their surroundings.

Clementine turned away, lightly stepping towards a body about two feet away from Pete. This one was also male, lying on his side; dried, brown and red blood was caked around two bullet holes in the back of his head. His hands were positioned on his right side, both splattered with blood.

“This one’s shot too.”

“Through the head?”

“Yeah.”

“Check the rest,” Pete replied as Clementine stood up to her full height. “And look for ammo. We’re runnin’ low.” He looked down at the body he was examining, also standing up, and grimaced.

Clementine moved to turn towards Nick – something caught her eye: there were more bodies on the other side of the small river, and up against the bank.

Nick joined them both, looking alarmed. Pete didn’t look back at him and Clementine immediately.

“This wasn’t no rinky-dinky pissin’ match.” he said, just barely loud enough for them to hear.

“What was it, then?” Nick demanded, an alarmed expression crossing his face.

Pete still didn’t face either of them as he said something that to Clementine, sounded like, “Fubar.” and continued on closer to the river.

“Where you goin’?” Nick demanded again. Clementine looked up at him, alarmed. He seemed just as angry as he seemed scared. “We need to get the fuck outta here!”

Pete gazed back briefly, but then looked back to the river. “We gotta check the rest.”

“What? WHY?”

Pete took a step into the shallow river and began to make his way across. He provided no explanation and instead hollered, “Calm down and think about it, son!”

“Calm down? We gotta get outta here now!”

Pete had reached the other side of the riverbank by now. “Jesus Christ – get a hold of yourself!” he shouted, annoyance obvious in his voice.

Clementine turned to Nick, though a large amount of dread filled her system. “What if someone’s alive, Nick?” She didn’t know what they would do, but the possibility made her worry.

“Who cares?” was Nick’s immediate response. Clementine knew this was all fear talking, and nothing rational was coming out of him.

“’cause they might just be inclined to tell us who did this!” Pete shouted over to him. He placed his hands on his hips and glared at his nephew, still annoyed. “We gotta do this now.”

There were several rocks that provided a completely dry passage across the water. Carefully, Clementine held out her arms to balance and jumped from one to another until she had reached Pete’s side. She wanted absolutely no part in a repeat of the other night; her ribs ached just thinking about it.

“Stay here,” Pete finally said to Nick. “Keep searchin’ the ones on your side.”

Anxiety was practically radiating off of Nick at this point. He clutched his rifle again, this time not showing an inclination that he would be letting go anytime soon, and backed away apprehensively.

“… This is a dumb idea!” he called back.

“You know, Nick,” Pete suddenly called in response, “I don’t like this either, but sooner or later, you’re gonna have to realize a simple truth.”

“What?” Nick snarled. “That you’re an asshole?”

“That nobody in this world is ever gonna give a goddamn whether you like somethin’ or not!” Nick’s facial expression changed to one of a petulant child. “You gotta grow up, son!”

Nick turned on his heel and his only response was, “Whatever.” as he did. He stomped away like a child throwing a tantrum. Clementine scowled; she felt annoyed on her own, but she knew Pete had to feel much worse about that.

He turned around and said, “All right, Clementine. You wanna be useful? Keep an eye on that tree line.” Pete scowled in the direction of the trees. “Whoever did this might still be out there, waitin’ for another sucker to stumble across this mess.”

“Okay, I’ll watch it.” Clementine immediately agreed, not wanting to make him any angrier than he probably already was. She began to turn to the tree line when Pete spoke again.

“You always so agreeable?” He seemed genuinely amused to Clementine’s surprise.

“No.”

“Good. You’ll fit right in with this outfit.”

Clementine turned on her heel, heart jolting, as sudden growling reached her ears. She had expected a group, but instead was only met by a wriggling walker that was trapped between two large rocks against the bank – and it was pinned to the ground by what looked to be a homemade spear.

Pete joined her gaze as he let out a sigh and set off towards the walker.

“Look, just keep your head on straight.” he said, and gazed down at the walker. “Same deal. Shot to pieces. Hope this isn’t anyone you know…”

“No…”

“Good.”

Pulling a face of disgust, Clementine eyed the walker warily as it struggled weakly against the spear. She eyed the weapon as well, a nagging sensation of déjà vu pulling at her mind. Pete pushed his foot against the walker’s chest, ripped out the spear, and immediately drove it into the walker’s forehead.

It wasn’t until the walker ceased movement and Pete tossed down the spear that the memory hit her like a pile of bricks.

The man she had pushed into the jaws of a ravenous walker carried one just like it before he had taken off after her. She remembered exactly what he’d done with it before – how could she forget? Christa’s anguished shriek when he forced it into her foreleg still echoed in the back of Clementine’s mind.

Pete looked over his shoulder, then huffed.

“Damn it. More on that side – you check out these ones.” Obeying his command, Clementine turned to face the other bodies that lay littered around them. Her stomach turned. “See if there’s anything that can tell us who they were.”

Apprehensively, Clementine locked her gaze on one of the bodies. It lay the furthest away from the others around them, and faced away from her. It was on its side, right on the bank of the stream.

When she saw what was lying next to it, she wanted to yell. Her eyes widened when she saw the bag lying only a few inches away, next to a log. Bright purple and child sized, there was no mistaking it; it was her bag.

A plastic water bottle stuck out.

The body moved. It squirmed and its hand reached out towards the water bottle – and Clementine knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. The “body” wasn’t just a random walker. It was one of the two other men who had chased Christa at the same time that that – Clementine tried to put the image of her former captor’s corpse out of her mind – man had chased her.

By now, her knees felt like lead and her heart thumped against her chest so hard that she could hear it. Clementine inched her way towards the bag. She didn’t even reach for it before the man suddenly let out a hacking cough and his eyes snapped open.

The man’s clothes were splattered with blood; several spots were darker than others in a way that Clementine automatically knew that they had to be puncture or bullet wounds. His shallow breathing evened out for only a moment, only to be interrupted by more hacking and coughing. He stared up at Clementine, eyes going as wide as they could. He looked from her to her backpack, and then in a random direction.

“You were in the woods with Christa.” Clementine managed to force out quietly. She recognized him; he’d been the only one with long hair – some kind of dreadlocks – versus her own short haired captor, and the third man with the hood.

The man’s eyelids fluttered as he gasped out, “Please.” He again looked to the water bottle as his weak arm reached for it. Clementine didn’t move towards the bag. Her hands shook too much and the rest of her was frozen. He had to know what they’d done with Christa.

But Clementine’s only feeling was one of dread. What were the odds…?

“… The woman I was with…” she stammered to the man. “What happened to her?”

“Please.”

“Tell me what happened to her.”

The man’s eyelids drooped slowly, but Clementine wasn’t focused on that. She felt as though someone was squeezing her too hard. Suspense built up inside as the man opened his mouth to say something again.

Instead, all that reached her ears was Pete’s shouting, followed by a gunshot.