#Not tagging all chars till i finish this probably

[pokeydapuppy]

Happy 4th Anniversary!!!

Im busy but rather this than be late/never orz

I wanted to digitizalize this or make a different painting, but timings off so I drew this during class :">

Hooray for hypmic!!!

[madamescarlette]

The Year So Far Book Ask

Tagged by most beloved of all magpies, @magpie-trove 💖💖💖💖

1. Best book you have read in 2021 so far?

I also can’t pick just one!! In terms of reading it and not being able to put it down, Chalice and Goblin Emperor are the closest contenders to me. Rereading The Blue Sword only solidified it in how much it makes me feel known! And the Penderwicks were a surprise, but a much needed one. 

2. Best sequel you have read in 2021 so far?

Technically, I didn’t read Return of the Thief till January, and is still probably my favorite so far. I really need to return and re-evaluate it past my feelings of wanting to sit on my floor and scream. 

3. A new release you want to check out?

It’s technically not so much new now but I need/want/REALLY need to read The Theft of Sunlight, especially considering the copious amounts of tears I shed reading the final third of Thorn. 

4. Most anticipated book release of the second half of the year?

WITNESS FOR THE DEAD, SAID EMPHATICALLY. I don’t care if it’s the only book that I know of that’s releasing this year I CAN’T wait. 

5. Biggest disappointment?

My standards are probably too low. I think I might be too nice to most authors??? I can’t recall being horribly disappointed by anything. 

6. Biggest surprise?

....The Penderwicks? I (vaguely) knew that Cate loved them, but they didn’t really pop up in my consciousness until she and Songbird started rereading this year and me, being what I am, was like “heyyyy I like children’s literature and warm media about families really going through it together, and I have time to sit down and read nothing else!!” so I did, for about two weeks, do little but cook and read Penderwicks, and it is absolutely one of my favorite memories of this year. 

I just gobbled all of it right up- the sibling dynamics, Mr. Penderwick being very tired in the background, Jeffrey trying to find a place in their and his family, Batty’s transition from being littlest sister to biggest sister of the littlest siblings. It was a joy and a delight and I wish it could live it all over again for the first time. 

7. Favourite new author (either new to you or debut)?

She wasn’t technically new to me (I read Sophy last October) but I DEFINITELY wasn’t planning or expecting Georgette Heyer to be the single largest chunk (a whole 27% hoho) of my reading life this year, but I’m so glad she is. She has a rare effect on me with her writing of making one feel as if they are always in the company of a friend who is recounting her stories to you in the rosy-glasses way that a truly witty person can help you see through. She is my true comfort food author, I think! In whatever state I am in, she always seems to make me laugh, and also seems to make the world seem more right, as if everything will always, eventually, turn out alright.

8. Favourite new fictional crush?

Strangely enough, it’s pretty rare for me to develop anything more than affection for fictional characters these days. 

9. Newest favourite character?

LOVE Sasha, also revisiting Ella Enchanted reminded me just how much I am Char, my dearest boy.

10. A book that made you cry?

Thorn is the book that made me cry MOST, but also The Penderwicks in Spring was surprisingly also very emotional. (I just kept getting upset that NOBODY was holding Batty and yet all of them WANTED to and *incomprehensible noises*) (also-- this doesn’t count but I’m planning to reread Spinning Silver and the tears it made me shed last year were nothing to sneeze at.)

11. A book that made you happy?

EAGLE OF THE NINTH. IT BLINDSIDED ME BY HOW LOVELY IT WAS? There was so much sheer joy in the second act of that book, and in the love that Marcus held for his father, and *more incomprehensible noises*. Plus reading The Light Princess in one afternoon this past winter was an UTTER delight (combined with the funny luck I had in it being a Jellicoe read JUST after I finished. I truly felt like someone in heaven was winking at me. it was ridiculous but also another good memory.)

12. Most beautiful book you have bought or received this year?

I don’t know when I will actually read it, but I recently finally got my own copy of Shadow Scale and it’s so?? pretty?? whenever I shift it from place to place I get caught up in the shifting colors of the cover. 

13. What book do you need to read by the end of the year?

I try not to set deadlines for my reading life anymore, because I want more than anything to prevent it being work, which is slightly which locked me out of what was once my favorite hobby for a long time- but I do want to finish up my reread of my childhood Arthur trilogy by Kevin Crossley-Holland, the final book (and my last to read) being King of the Middle-March. 

tagging: double tagging @catefrankie​ @thebirdandhersong​ and @called-kept​

[chocochar]

Hi I would like to request a scenario with the female reader having a fire eater quirk where she can eat flames and spit it back out 10 times hotter. The only trick is she can't produce her own flames. I would picture this reader as a delinquent who spray paints but isn't an actual villain till dabi notices her. End it as you like. Cheers ❤❤❤

(AN:  I think people are catching on that I like writing for Dabi.... lol Anywaaays so this took a different direction than intended. It also was waaay longer than expected too XD but yeah, I hope it’s okay! Reader is 18, a senior in school)

        (F/n) pants as she rounds another corner, running as fast as she can. She holds a spray can in one hand and a black mask hides her nose and mouth, her (hair color) hidden by a beanie and the teen dressed in a black hoodie and jeans to help her hide if she finds an alley she can slip into.

        "Get back here, you punk!!" She hears the policemen behind her shout and she picks up the pace, her legs growing tired and lungs screaming for air but the student keeps running. No one tries to stop her, although they probably figure the cops will catch up eventually and they don't need to get involved. 

        Fortunately (F/n) has come to know these streets like the back of her hand, so slipping down an alleyway she yells back,"Come on, move a little faster!" She can hear there footsteps growing more and more faint as she turns corner after corner starting to slow down herself. Finally she slips between two dumpsters, kneels, and makes herself as small as possible with her hood hiding her face. They're coming, but clearly they don't have a clue where she went when they turn down this alley, panting and ready to give up.

        "Damn, where did that kid go?"

        "I swear I saw them come down here," one replies, the two looking around and getting ready to pass the dumpsters. "Damn kids, spray painting a business." They stop in front of her a couple feet from her, and she stiffens wondering if they found her. 

        'Cops can be blind, but if they see me I'm gonna have a real rough time getting away this time...' She can only see their shoes under the hood but they haven't turned to face her yet so maybe not. She can hear a third set of footsteps coming from the other side of the alley ahead of them, the shoes tapping on the pavement with a slow pace.

        "Hey, you, you seen a kid running through her, dressed all in black, wearing a mask?" The first cop asks the third person to show up; slowly and carefully (F/n) starts raising her head to get a better look at them since they appear distracted. She freezes seeing the immediate fear on the men's faces when the unknown person gets closer.

        "W-Wait a sec, you're-"

        She jolts back in shock when suddenly bright, blue flames begin engulfing the two men and more than half the alley.

        'Wh-What the hell-?!' The teen presses as far back against the wall as possible feeling the heat licking at her face from the intense blaze and watches as one cop manages to use his quirk to deflect them long enough for him to run, his partner already a charred crisp on the concrete. The flames disperse and once the cop is gone and the third set of footsteps start up again, coming this way. (F/n)'s heart is pounding and she feels fear building the closer this murderer gets; they probably don't even realize she's there, and wracking her brain for information judging by the flames color, intensity, and their targets the person must be-

        "Pigs, always gotta make a fuss when they see us," a deep, rough voice speaks up breaking her train of thought and she looks up wide eyed when the unknown man steps into view; Dabi, from the League of Villains! She is silent, starting to shake when he stops and turns his head looking down at her. His intense stare and the way his blue eyes seem to almost glow in the shadowed alley, and the expression she can't read. For this moment she forgets how his quirk won't harm her and only stays still, hoping he'll just keep walking and ignore her. She may be considered a delinquent but a villain is still a villain, even if his quirk can't harm her he's still bigger than her and can overpower her if things got physical. 

        Fortunately he only says,"Guess I found you, not like they're looking for you now, though." before he looks ahead and keeps walking, passing the corpse without a glance and stuffing his hands into his pants pockets. She cautiously peeks out and watches him leave, her shaking ceasing but the girl not moving until she can't hear the click of his boots anymore.

        When he's gone she stands and gives a look at the body, swallowing. She didn't know this would happen, but it still doesn't help the sick feeling settled in her gut as she rushes out of the alley just as sirens are heard.

[X][X][X]

        A week has passed since what happened and (F/n) can't seem to get it out of her head.

        The fire, the death, the intense gaze, they won't leave her mind and even when trying to focus in school (which she doesn't focus much normally) she keeps looking back on that day. She did feel bad for the cop, even at certain points blaming herself despite knowing his death had nothing to do with her. But the main thing on her mind is Dabi. 

        What if he comes to find her and kills her too to get rid of a witness or something?

        He's apart of such a dangerous villain group, why would he let some trouble making kid off the hook? (F/n) has had run ins with the cops before, and while the other cop managed to survive he's been in the hospital in severe, life threatening conditions so they haven't been able to get anything out of him. Her quirk is known by the police, they wouldn't believe her, and worse may try to pin it on her. Maybe he assumed that.  Or she just wasn't worth the effort.

        This mixed with her dad's drinking getting worse she's left with little to nowhere to turn, and almost considers running away or moving in with her grandparents.

        Either way she's been watching her back more than usual, avoiding alleys for now just in case. Who knows what he'll do if they come across each other again.

[X][X][X]

        "(F/n), why the hell did you choose there to tag?!" 

        It's been 3 weeks since the incident, and (F/n) and her friend Hide are out tagging again. The two decided to spray paint the side of a very popular hero store, and now are once again running from a few police who were out on patrol.

        "You do know we could run into heroes right? Did you think about that?!"

        "We've almost lost them, Hide, here you take that way I'll go this way," she points, the two reaching an intersection. (F/n) goes right and Hide takes off left, the (brunette, red head, etc) running as fast as she can and luckily finding an alley entryway ahead right when she rounds the corner. 'I should be able to lose them in there!' She thinks, turning in and looking for a hiding place or ladder she can use to hide up on the buildings.

        But it seems she's made a grave mistake when her eyes meet very familiar cerulean. He's using his flames again, this time on some local gangsters judging by their clothes. Two piles of ash sit side by side on the concrete while the rest manage to run while he's distracted by her showing up. Dabi is staring at her, only this time his face shows more expression. He looks pissed, his brows furrowed and flames flickering over his right cheek and from his right elbow down to his fingertips. She's not shaking this time, but she still is frozen under his intense gaze as he faces her, his hand now covered in the blue fire.

        "You really don't have any other strategy, do you? Stupid kid," his voice is gruff and lacking emotion like before but there's a hint of something dangerous mixed in and lifting his hand he smirks. "And here I thought letting you go last time wasn't a bad idea, but sounds like you brought more cops this time too. Guess I'll have to take care of you this time before we run into each other again."

        (F/n) doesn't have much time to react when fire bursts from his palm aimed for the teen but luckily she breaks out of her frozen trance and pulls her mask down revealing her lips and face. Just as the fire reaches her she starts sucking it into her mouth, every inch being pulled into her mouth and filling her up. Dabi stops and actually looks taken back, his smirk gone and eyes suspicious. "You eat-?"

        Before he can finish she puffs her cheeks and his eyes widen, the man jumping out of the way behind a dumpster just in the nick of time as this time fire blasts past where he's hiding. She blows the fire out of her mouth like a dragon as it makes an 'o' shape, it not being as widespread as his own but he can feel how much hotter it is, having to cover himself behind his coat just to make sure his skin doesn't get worse or burn off completely. When it disappears he peers out, still processing this girl's quirk. It's.... Powerful and deadly, and works really well with his own.

        The sound of her running causes him to jump to his feet and rush out of the alley, watching the teen run off.

        He can hear the sirens in the distance as well as seeing people running, meaning it's about time to go, but he gives a second glance where (F/n) had ran off before disappearing back into the alley.

[X][X][X]

        "You encountered that Dabi guy?!!" Hide exclaims, the two at (F/n)'s apartment eating snacks and playing a multiplayer game together. He noticed how out of it she seemed when they met up, and now that she admitted what happened she's honestly wondering if he believes her or not.

        "Yeah, this isn't the first time either," she says, having trouble concentrating on the game. Her dad will be home soon, she wants to leave before that but he'll just get made again. "I managed to use my quirk, though, caught him off guard."

        "But like, isn't he a scary dude? He and the League? Aren't you scared?" Hide inquires, the boy watching her now and gauging her reactions. 

        She nods, then shrugs, setting the controller down. Without the hoodie the light bruising that's all but gone along with more recent marks on her wrists and arms is out in the open, the girl not hiding them when in front of Hide given he knows the culprit behind them. 

        "Yeah, but I doubt I'm worth that much trouble, they're probably too busy plotting more dastardly deeds," she laughs although it's light and almost forced. Hide sighs, patting her back, but hearing a car door slam she stiffens and he groans.

        "Want me to stay? Or do you think he'll be okay today?"

        She hates involving her friends in her personal things, especially when her dad is involved, so she shakes her head, forcing a smile and saying,"It should be fine, you should go home."

        The night air is crisp and cold biting at (F/n)'s bare skin as she rushes through the dark streets. She didn't even bother with a jacket, a new bruise on her forearm and the girl biting back the tears threatening to fall. 

        'I hate him, so much, I just... I wish he'd just disappear! Why can't he see how he treats everyone?! Why mom left us?! Why-'

        "Y'know, without that mask and get up you're actually pretty cute."

        She stops abruptly and freezes up when that familiar voice hits her ears again. Slowly she turns around and watches as Dabi steps out from the shadows, hands in his pockets and his expression aloof as always. His eyes are scanning the girl until they land on her arms, the lighting from the stores making it easier to see the bruises. She's sure it was just a trick of her eyes but it almost looked like his own turned soft, or something like it, but she's sure her mind is just messing with her.

        "Looking to kill me again?" She asks, facing him and while she's trying to stay strong he can already see how she's crumbling inside. "I didn't bring cops this time, but that doesn't matter, huh? You just want to take me out cause I'm a nuisance right?" Her tone has bite to it, while still being shaky with a tremble. But something tells him it isn't because she's scared of him. 

        Holding out her arms she exclaims,"Then do it, do it already! I won't stop you this time!" She waits for him to burn her to a crisp just like the others but is confused when he just rubs his neck and replies,"Keep it down already, do you want to wake up the whole neighborhood? I didn't expect you to be so noisy."

        "You... Aren't you going to kill me? Isn't that why you're here?"

        He shrugs, saying,"Keep being loud and I might, it'd be a shame to burn that pretty little face." But his words don't hold that same threatening tone like they did earlier that day, more like it's just an open threat. Her cheeks turn pink but she ignores it.

        "Then I'm leaving-" She turns ready to keep going.

        "Wait, dollface, I wanted to talk," he moves quickly stepping in front of her. They're only a foot away from each other now allowing her to smell the smoky scent on him and get a better look at his features, namely his scars, staples, and piercings. She takes a small step back in surprise and meets his hypnotizing orbs, also realizing he's.... Handsome, something she really couldn't admire before or ever think she'd have that sort of thought. Despite the scars and staples she feels her cheeks flushing, hell those add to his look; she almost wants to reach up and feel them, see if they really are real or not.

        She shakes her head and misses what he says while scolding herself in her head,'He's a villain, and he tried to kill me, stop being weird!!' "Wh-What? What did you say?"

        He narrows his eyes, not enjoying the way she's staring at him and even zoning out. To him she's most likely looking at his scars, whether that's a bad or a good thing he doesn't really care. But he lets it slide this time and repeats himself.

        "I said, dollface, I'm here to talk to you about something important. To be honest the League would've probably kidnapped you either way, but judging by those something tells me that won't be necessary," he gestures to her arms, and even surprises her when he takes hold of the one with the newest bruise and starts looking them over more closely. "Been a while since I've seen something like this..." he mumbles to himself, not stopping her when she yanks her arm back and tries to hide them, brows furrowed.

        "What did you need to talk to me about, and how important is it?" She asks without hesitation, her own wounds clearly being a touchy subject too. He puts his hands back in his pants pockets and stares at her, the teen shifting uncomfortably under the gaze of the beautiful cerulean.

        "The League is looking to recruit you," these words completely catch her off guard and her eyes grow wide while her mouth gapes. "Well, it's more like I was for once impressed by someone not looking to be a hero so I decided to tell our leader about you. After he bitched about adding another to our pile of misfits he agreed it'd be beneficial to add you on." He waits for her response, watching her face for any change in reaction. Her mouth closes slowly and she looks down, her mind buzzing and the girl almost wondering if she heard him wrong. She had to right? Slowly the reality sinks in as to why he came looking for her, the fact he admitted he was impressed with her quirk was quite the surprise too. He definitely doesn't seem the type to hand out compliments often.

        Looking back up she rubs her arm, biting her plump lip. Which he can't help but watch a little; she's cuter than he was expecting, and he oddly has this weird feeling stir in his chest when he looks at those marks all over her. They resonate with him, his own memories flooding through his mind, and while she'd be very beneficial to the League he now has other reasons for wanting to recruit her. He wants to learn more about her, get to know her, and show her how corrupt their society is. He also has this underlying feeling of protecting her, something he wouldn't do for anyone else but somehow this girl is different.

        "And why should I go with you?"

        "Because, sweetheart, we've been in the same boat as you. Mistreated, used, turned away when we needed help. This is a society full of falsehoods, corrupt bastards sitting on top, they care about you about as much as they did about the rest of us. And we want you to see that too," he states, before taking a step back and pulling his hand out of his pocket, holding it out for her to take. "I want you to see that. Come with me, and you won't have to worry about those ever again."

        A smile comes to his lips, waiting for her answer.

(AN: Okay so like, this was way longer than intended, like 3000 words and counting, also I left it open ended for either a possible sequel or for the reader to decide.  Also he’s totally not Touya in this lmao (〃￣ω￣〃)ゞ I hope it's okay, story also took a different direction too, hope Dabi wasn't OOC and hope you enjoyed lol)

[pkmnsdarkqueen]

So calls my heart to bad decisions (Kalos)

Based on this , cause I can’t get it out of my head and I think it’d be funny to give mini versions of the crack ideas I said.

*TRIGGER WARNING HEAVY! Please check tags, thank you.*

Out of all the places they visited so far this was turning out to be their favorite. It was a broken mess of parts, twisted melted metal, and full of dangerous groans from creaking parts. In other words, completely free for them to run a-mock in. 

“You know they never did find the body of that guy. What if he’s haunting the place?”

Will pipped using his powers to shake a platform to test it’s stability. Once he was assured it was secure he leapt off the door he was currently standing on to land on the sheet of metal. It wobbled under him but he stayed standing with Karen taking his spot on the door. 

“A little early in the year for ghost stories.”

“It is never too early, and I say we find a place to camp to see if my theory is correct.”

He retorted moving aside so she could join him on the platform. Easily she hopped on letting him catch her just to be safe. The two were making there way down the large chasm created by the blast from the weapon that once stood in it’s place. They had hoped to be able to reach the bottom, but due to the size they were starting to have doubts. I mean it was mid day already, and they had arrived in the morning. Not to mention the sun beating down on all of the metal was making it incredibly hot. Sure they dressed for it generally, shorts, a tanks with some sneakers. Karen instead of wearing a tank just had the cropped Magma hoodie they stole from their first excursion having realized it was actually made for hot environments. That was a lesson she’d learned the hard way after trying to take it to Mt. Cornet, and almost freezing in it.

“Camp? Here? Will we’re not that stupid, and I don’t have a death wish.”

She countered taking out her belt for the next stretch. The next stretch wasn’t necessarily far but the path they had to walk was terribly narrow. Wrapping he gold chain around her hand Karen looped it to what was previously a rail of some kind, and unclipped a gold coin from her belt loops to connect the belt into a circle. Then casually began to walk the narrow edge of what was possibly a part of the machine? It was hard to tell with the charring, but with this she was able to use the belt as a safety line if she slipped, and could hold onto it for balance.

“I guess. I still find it funny one of the legendary pokmemon here is a dark type bird. Here you are having partnered with Ho-oh, and Yveltal was an option. Maybe you two ended up in the wrong region.”

Karen rolled her eyes at that comment. Ok, sure Yveltal would of been more thematic for her, but she couldn’t see herself working with any other legendary. Though it felt like such a brief point in time she had genuinely felt such a kinship with the bird. 

Once on the other slide she gave the looped belt a hard snap to send back to him. Adding to the groans of heaving metal came the echoing scrape of metal on metal as it zipped along the rail. Will catching it easily on the other side, and starting to follow in suit. 

“In the wrong region, huh? You’d have a different partner though, and I highly doubt they’d be as patient with your antics as I am. Then again, I could probably run an evil team. No help needed either.”

She teased before feeling a tug at her shoe. Looking down she was able to see her shoe laces tighten into a dainty perfect bow. Will’s grinning face there to greet her when her glare lifted to meet him. Without a word she shuffled over to start unclipping her belt from the rail. 

“This only proves my point about people putting up with your antics.”

“And while you fume over tied shoes Miss I-could-fight-the-world-if-I wanted-to I’m going to go on ahead.”

Will remarked again testing the next platform which he could only see the edge of by giving it a few tugs with his powers. A large piece of metal seemed to be blocking most of their path from here. They could still get by if they slipped through, but he was double checking the surrounding area a few times to be sure since their vision of what was coming next was obscured.

After discarding a loose pipe to let it fall aimlessly into the pit below he grabbed onto a sturdy chunk above and dropped onto the piece below. There was a solid thunk as his feet hit the ground as he began to wish they’d used the belt again. Oh well, Karen would of likely messed with it after his last little gag on her, so maybe it was for the best. 

As he dusted himself off his eyes were on the ground catching a small red object in the corner of his vision. He quickly recognized the logo, and what it was. Ha, Karen was about to be jealous!

“Hey guess what I just found a ba-aaaauhhhhhh.....Karen.”

As his hand had reached for the small metallic badge he realized there was something else on the platform with him. Better yet, someone, because he also now saw a hand nearby. When he followed it sure enough a body was attached. 

“I’m retying my shoes give me a second.”

“Ok after you finish that you might want to come here as soon as possible because I found the ghost, or wait-”

“I’m sorry what?”

“I was wrong he’s breathing. Not a ghost, likely will be soon.”

Now he had said that, and he honestly meant it the more he took in the situation. First they were unconscious which was never a good sign. The amount of blood that had drained onto the metal was certainly sizable, and the rank from heat and blood was out right offensive. He was tucked under almost a cave of metal. Then there was the most glaring problem, a pole about half an inch thick had pierced the metal above him, and sunk into the lower abdomen. He inched his way closer trying to get a good look of the situation seeing the other’s chest shakily fall and rise. Gently setting his hand in the other’s he wanted to double check on the unconsciousness. 

“Si tu es réveillé, peux-tu me serrer la main?” (translation: If you’re awake at all can you squeeze my hand?)

As he asked this he felt the metal shift a bit under him, and looked back to see Karen had lowered herself down onto the platform using her belt for a gentle landing. Like him her face was quickly filled with concern. They had seen enough that while this was graphic it was not as horrific as other sights. Though unable to understand Kalosian she knew exactly what he was doing, and her face grew more worried when he went from holding the other’s hand to putting two fingers on their wrist. No response then. 

“I don’t smell infection. I mean it smells bad, and it normally takes a day for it to set, but with how hot it is I would of assumed the worst.”

“He’s far from out of the woods. His heart beat is pretty weak, and speaking of the heat I don’t need to do any checks for body temperature to know he’s over heating.”

Will muttered a second later hearing the clank of metal at his side. One of Karen’s coins sat next to his foot now. He picked it up flicking open a back stop for a blade to pop out. 

“That heavy jacket is probably one of the causes if you want to start cutting that off I’m going to try to think of how we’re getting him out of here.”

“Get him out? Karen he’s practically already dead.”

“You say that like I care, Will can you honestly tell me right now that you’d leave him?”

“Well...no, I couldn’t-”

“Then we’re not leaving him.”

She replied matter of factly watching his reaction. Instead of saying anything though he looked at the metal they were standing on expecting her eyes to follow his. Karen hadn’t noticed before, and Will hadn’t until he crouched down to get the other’s pulse but this platform wasn’t fully clean. Where it jutted from the earth there was some flattened out area of dirt that leaked onto the metal. In it was distinct shoe prints. These prints that didn’t match either of theirs. They both went very quiet having the same thoughts, if someone was already here why didn’t they help him?

“...Karen maybe it was impossible to get him safely.”

“Or it wasn’t and they left him intentionally. He did try to end the world and if there is one thing humans are good at it’s hurting each other with malicious intent.”

Again they went quiet mutually horrified by a thought like that. No matter the situation when they were in the business of crime they could always count on the fact that the other wouldn't let them be left behind. To be left alone to die in such a slow and painful way felt inhuman, and yet they knew all too well it was something a human was capable of doing. 

“We get him out, but my priority is keeping us safe.”

He answered going to start cutting at the coat. Karen silently agreed to this turning away to start forming a plan. There wasn’t much room for her to pace so she got out another coin to start fiddling it as she talked her thoughts out aloud.

“Getting out of here is going to be do-able but we’ll have to be as careful as can be. The only flying pokemon we have that could carry a person is Clem, but we have a few problems there. He’s old limiting his strength, we’re currently in a narrow section for a good while here, and I worry about moving him too much. I mean if he’s still breathing after a day of lying here that pole must of missed any major organs, or worse it’s hit something and the only thing keeping him from dying is that pole holding things in place. That means if we move him it could rupture, and he’ll become septic-”

“Getting out of the hole Karen go there first.”

Will interrupted wanting her to stay on the first issue she brought up.

“Right, ok sorry. You have your full team of psychic pokemon, and yourself which can all levitate a person. You’ll likely have to take turns to not wear yourselves out. If you guys can manage to get him the entire way out perfect, if not we’ll use Clem. Although let’s save your bronzong till we’re fully out so that he can carry him to where we need to go.”

“Ok so getting out is solved. Where are we taking him once he’s out? Call the ambulance?”

He asked peeling the rest of the coat off to see the fresh wound blocked only by.a dress shirt. Despite the red color it did not hide the stain that had soaked through. The one upside to the coat is that it had helped shield his wound from debris keeping it cleaner. 

“No if we do that they’ll call the cops, and he’ll just get carted to jail.”

“Uh, yes, and why is that bad?”

Will asked turning to her in confusion. Without any words he knew what she was trying to tell him by the flat stare. They never went to jail, it was a very good thing they hadn’t, and she wanted to do the same here. The only thing was that the situations were a bit different considering what he attempted to do that wasn’t even addressing the fact that there was no way they could patch this wound up, or the fact they had jobs in Johto.

“...Ok confession. I opened a secret bar about a year after we joined the league where I have been running most of my security of Johto operations from by keeping in contact with criminals from our crime days, and I also made it into a refuge place because I really hate the prison system finding my method more helpful. You remember Yuki right? The guy who’s garage he kept paying us to set on fire so he could commit insurance fraud?”

She spat out knowing full well that blank reaction she was getting was hiding the flurry of emotions racing through his head. Even with a mask covering his upper face she could feel the anger radiating from his eyes at hearing this secret. If it weren’t for the emergency currently in front of them he would be exploding. 

“Yes. I do.”

“Well helped him get straightened out, payed for some medical school, and he is a top notch doctor now. He did move to Kalos recently to escape uh....someone recognizing him, but what’s important is that I have someone who owes me favors.”

There was a heavy sigh as Will attempted to exhale his emotions. This was the second time now he was finding out a secret on one of there trips that she kept hidden from him. Sure this one was far more severe compared to her last one, but still! This was the SECOND time, since when did they EVER keep secrets from each other?!

“We are talking about this later, but fine. Two of the three problems are worked out, third problem is this pole, and the fact we do not have nearly enough bandages in the med kit to perform a surgery.”

Finally stepping closer Karen took in every detail she could of the wound. It was so much worse up close and seeing where it was along with his physique she was even more scared that if they removed it they’d be basically be dooming him then and there. She followed the pole up as well wondering if it was supporting anything. While he was under a great deal of things the only thing tethering him to this place was that pole. If they could just remove him, leave the pole, or-wait what if they took both things?

“You and I can stand on this platform fine without problems. Garnet and Tilla could likely do the same we would just have to be else where to not put too much weight on here. You could be on that platform on the other side of that hole we came through, that door on the other side of the chasm can fit two people. It’ll be a squeeze but manageable.”

“Ok so what are your drapion and houdoom doing here then?”

“Taking the pole with him. If your xatu flies and lifts him just high enough for Tilla to get her claw under him she can snip it out from the bottom, another claw snip the top, and her third on her tail can help hold the pole in place. From your platform you can make sure the overall structure is sound so Garnet can grab all the scrap metal she can to push against the pole and use her fire to meld it together. All the while your xatu can lead him up through the opening. Then you can take over from there, and bring him up to me leaving him levitated so I can bandage him up. Then when I’m done you can return the pokemon to their pokeballs. Can you think of any holes in the plan?”

She asked after rattling everything off. Will was nodding along the whole time envisioning what she had in mind. It left a bad taste in his mouth to have to leave a part of the pole in, but it sounded mostly solid. 

“We have a bottle of alcohol for cleaning wounds, let’s use it on the pole to sterilize it. That’s about it, and no puns. Hole? When a man has one through his body?”

“Oh hush I’m stressed! Now come on we don’t have anymore time to waste.”

The woman huffed back honestly not even aware she had made a pun that time around. Reaching in her pockets she took out the two pokeballs he would need  as he got to work on cleaning the bit of the pole they’d be using. This was going to work, she told her self mentally trying to keep her spirits up.

[petri808]

A Witches Heart

Bakudeku fluffy Witch/Familiar gift fic for my demon hubby @diabl0o  UwU

~ I wish I had more time and inspiration, but I hope you like it <3 ;)

For several hours something has been following him and it was getting on his nerves.  It wasn’t human, nor animal, most likely a magical creature of some sort, but what kind, and why was it following him?  “Who’s there?!”  The young wizard Izuku Midoriya calls out into the dense forest.  “I can sense your presence, so there is no point in hiding from me.”  Nothing stirs.  “Fine,” he sets his belongings down and takes a seat on a fallen log.  “I’ll just wait here.”

Whatever it was moved around, circling Midoriya but never came all the way out into the clearing.  This ‘thing’ was quiet, probably small, the wizard guessed, in order not to ruffle the leaves or brush.  In fact, it was starting to remind him of a specific type of animal. Within an hour the presence had finally stopped in front of him, but just out of view.  Oh well, when it was ready to come out it will.

Midoriya decides the day was growing late and began preparing a small campsite.  He gathers wood, kindling, grabs his flint, and starts a fire. Then he takes a kill he’d made that morning out of his rucksack, just a decent sized hare, skinning and cleaning it. The presence shifts, maybe curious as to what the wizard was doing.  That makes him grin, it was only a matter of time now.  

With the rabbit roasting over the fire, Midoriya sits back down, sipping from his waterskin flask, glancing but never staring directly at where the presence had settled.  “Are you hungry?” he talks out loud.  “I have a little to share, if you are.”  Still nothing stirs.  The offer was made, and it was up to it to make the next move. “In the morning I’ll be moving on again, my home is a few more day’s journey from here.”  It would have looked strange to be talking to air, but it was also kind of nice not to be completely alone.  These expeditions to gather supplies were necessary but very lonely without a companion. Older wizards often had vassals to do the hard work, but he was young and had yet to make his way in this world.

He tests the rabbit after 30 minutes and the flesh was firm with no more juices running from the meat.  It smelled great, a little charred at the edges, but nothing too burnt.  “Mmmm,” he holds the stick up near his nose, “sure you don’t want any?”  A slight rustle in the brush brings an uptick at the corners of Midoriya’s mouth.  He breaks a couple of legs off, which sends even more juicier scents into the air.  “Come on out, I won’t hurt ya.”

After a brief pause, the young wizard sees the bushes shake and slowly, a small canine walk’s out. Its nose is up, smelling the air, eyes look wary but curious.  Midoriya tosses a leg close to it.  “There ya go little fella,” he smiles at the animal.  While he eats the rest of the rabbit, he watches it sniffs the meat cautiously, taking a tentative bite, before it goes about devouring the leg.  “Wow,” Midoriya chuckles, “you must’a been hungry guy.”  It only takes a couple minutes before only a leg bone is left.  He tosses the second leg to the animal, but this time midway between them.  “Eat up.” Again, the creature walks over, sniffs, then gobbles up the meat.  In the meantime, Midoriya offers up one more leg and the innards to the animal while he finishes up his portion.    

“Ahh, that was good,” he pat’s his stomach and leans back against the tree trunk.  “Hopefully I keep finding easy prey like that and I won’t go hungry.”  

The dog didn’t immediately bolt back into the forest after the meal, instead sitting down a few feet away on the other side of the fire just watching the wizard.  It was hard to see the canine with only the flickering flames to illuminate it.  But what he could see was a yellow, blondish colored dog, with a medium length coat, pointy ears, and blood red eyes.  It was definitely on the smaller side, not much for a guard animal, but beggars can’t be choosers when it comes to a possible companion.  

Still, why was it giving off a magical presence, and what was such a small dog doing in the middle of a big forest anyways?  It was odd. Maybe it became lost from its original master?  Midoriya pondered such thoughts as he readied his bedroll.  “I’m going to get some sleep,” he tells the animal who hadn’t moved from its position.  “If you’re still here in the morning, you’re welcome to keep following me.”  The dog cocks it’s head as if were pondering its options.  Interesting that it seemed to understand him.  Well since it didn’t seem like the animal was any threat, with a few more pieces of wood added to the fire, Midoriya lies down and goes to sleep.

When he wakes up the next morning, the first thing he notices as soon as he opens his eyes, is that the dog had moved closer through the night and was just over an arms-length away to his side.  So, he sits up slowly not wanting to startle the animal.  “Good morning,” he smiles and yawns, “are you going to keep following me?”  Of course, the animal doesn’t respond, but simply stares.  “I should give you a name or something.”  Midoriya taps his chin, “how about fluffy?”  The animal lowers its ears and growls low.  He chuckles, “ok not fluffy, hmm, maybe Kuma?”  The dog tips his head.  Is it thinking again, Midoriya wonders?  After a few moments without being growled at, he assumes the name is acceptable.  It didn’t quite fit right for a small dog, but it was just a name after all.  “I’ll just call you Kuma for now.”

He packs up and heads off again through the forest.  If memory served him right, there will be a river about a half days journey ahead where he can refresh his water supply and maybe catch some fish for dinner.  Kuma simply follows behind a few feet, never coming close enough to where Midoriya could touch it, but by midday it was clear the animal had no intention of wandering off again.  Well, at least he had a companion now.  Sometimes he would talk out loud as they travelled, just so there was anything but the silence of the forest surrounding him.  Kuma was quiet, never really barked or made any noises, though Midoriya knew it was somehow understanding everything he was saying to it.  

Things went on like this for the next couple of days until they needed to cross another river.  Unlike the previous one, this river was wide and faster moving, but luckily, an old wooden bridge spanned it.  Midoriya tests the first couple of boards and it seemed sturdy enough, though the spaces between the slats were a bit wide.  He turns and reaches out to Kuma, “maybe I should carry you over this.”  Kuma growls and turns his nose, then bypasses Midoriya and begins to trot across on his own. So much for that idea, Midoriya just chuckles and follows behind.

Suddenly, as they reach the midway point, the board under Kuma cracks and gives way.  Midoriya watches in horror as the dog falls, howling till it hits the water and goes under.  “Kuma!”  The drop had only been the length of two tall men, but for a small animal it must have been much more terrifying.  The witch doesn’t hesitate, placing his belongings down and diving in after his companion.  

He searches desperately, paying close attention to each time the dog’s head broke the surface of the water. Midoriya calls out to it to fight. “I’ll save you Kuma!”  Swimming with the current, the witch dodges rocks and other debris.  He was losing track of how far it was carrying him, but it didn’t matter.  With every second he was gaining.  “Gotcha!” he manages to grab the dog’s scruff and pulls it back above the surface before it went under again.  He cradles it to his chest as they are swept a little further down river.  One problem solved, the next was getting out of there.  Midoriya scans and sees a fallen tree that is laying half way into the water. Perfect!  Timing it, he grabs hold of a branch.  The force of the water funneling around the tree was strong, but he manages to haul them both onto the trunk portion.

As soon as he crawls onto solid ground.  “That… was close…” Midoriya flops onto his back, panting from both exhaustion and the adrenaline rush.  It was only at that point that something peculiar registered on the witch.  This dog was a lot heavier than it looked, a lot heavier, as in three times what he though it should be.  “Are you okay,” he asks Kuma.  The dog had crawled off, shaken out it’s fur and sat right beside him.  It tips its head and nods.  Midoriya blinks, it nodded?!  Do dogs nod?!

The witch sits up, “I’m confused on what you are Kuma.  You give off magic, you understand what I’m saying, and your weight makes no sense for a small dog.  Where did you come from?  Did you get lost or run away from a master?  Are you here to get something out of me?  I don’t mind you tagging along, but it would be really nice to know what I’m dealing with.” Kuma rolls its eyes.  “Did you just…”

“You’re nicer than my last witch master, but sometimes you talk too much.”

Midoriya’s jaw drops and he stumbles to his feet.  “Y-You can talk!”

“Yeah.”

Before the witch can do anything more, Kuma shapeshifts into a wolf, a bear, a leopard, then finally into a human, albeit a naked one, while he just gawks the whole time.  As Midoriya covers his eyes, Kuma gives a bellowing laugh, “Such a pansy of a witch!  But a brave one.  For saving my life I will tell you what you ask.  My name is Bakugou Katsuki and I am a shapeshifter.”

“H-Here,” A blushing Midoriya shrugs off his coat and holds it up.  “Please cover up.”

Again, Katsuki laughs but obliges.  “I’m just gonna shapeshift again, it’s easier to travel as an animal.”  

“That’s fine.  I-I just, i-it’s…”

“I get it.  You can open your eyes now.”

When Midoriya peaks out, Katsuki had settled in a cross-legged position.  He breathes out a sigh of relief and opens his eyes.  The shapeshifter was very handsome in his human form, but this wasn’t the time to be gushing about such things.  Wait a minute!  “If you’re a shapeshifter, why didn’t you just change into, I don’t know, a fish or something to save yourself?!”  

“Because you jumped in after me!”  Katsuki crosses his arms, “I hadn’t planned on revealing myself yet, so yeah, if you hadn’t come after me, I would have done just that.”

“Oh.”  That made some sense.  “Hey, um, we should find our way back to the bridge before someone steals my things.” He stands up, ready to trek back along the river, when Katsuki places a hand on his shoulder.  

“Look, I just wanted to say thanks for what you did.  When I saw you, I had a feeling you wouldn’t be like a lot of the witches I’ve met and I was right, you still have a heart.”

“Um, thanks…. I think.”

“What I’m trying to say is, I’d like to be your Familiar if you’ll have me.”  

The young witch has never had a Familiar of his own before.  A wide, beaming smile blooms on his face.  He hugs the man, “I’d really like that!”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Katsuki rolls his eyes, and after a second pushes Midoriya off, “I ain’t really the touchy-feely type.”

Midoriya swore the shapeshifter was blushing too but doesn’t say anything.  “S-Sure, I understand.  So, shall we get moving?  If we hurry, we can get my stuff and make camp before dark.”

Katsuki nods and shape shifts into small dragon.  “Get on, this’ll be faster.”

“Wow!”

[ladykateofledfordpark]

No-one Understands (Charlotte's Diary)

This fic is inspired by day 18 of the Choices July Chalkenge hosted by the amazing @kinda-iconic under the profile @choicesjulychallenge!

Dedicated to @mariaoz and @itsbrindleybinch , my lovely Jaime lovers! ;)

Tagging also amazing and supportive people, old and new: @lady-kato @jlpplays1 @desiree-0816 @brightpinkpeppercorn and @flyawayboo @darley1101! Thank you for everything! =D

This entry takes place years after the timeline of the original series, when Charlotte is near finishing school.

Day 18 Prompt: Family

Summary: After a few cruel comments, Charlotte and Jaime share a few comforting moments.

Notes:

There is no "Dear Diary" and a "Sincerely" on purpose!

Talk about death and bullying-ish.

----------

3.9.2014

I don't know how long it's been since Mom passed away. The love and the affection she once gave me are now forever gone, only wisps of memories flying away.

And I'm desperately trying to chase after them.

Other people aren't nearly as understanding as I need. They speak about me freely, their words like sticky poison trickling down my back. I tried fighting it once, but soon my efforts proved fruitless.

Most days are cruel, but today was another matter entirely.

I sat in recess, writing in my special story-writing notebook, when I once again heard my name. I knew the best reaction was ignorance, but my focus was now half gone.

So I couldn't help but overhear every word.

"Charlotte is making such a big deal out of this," one of them said, "I get it, her mother died, but there are much worse things in the world. She should move on, already, and stop wallowing in self-pity."

I grit my teeth as I forced my hand to continue writing. She wasn't even eighteen yet, but how was she supposed to figure out what she wanted in life? So many roads, so little…

Another shook their head. "She's probably just a poor spoiled girl."

I bit my lip. I needed to continue writing, but what would be a good way to continue it?

"Not surprising."

The grip on my pencil tightened. Tears started to prick me eyes, and no matter what I told myself, they didn't disappear.

What was wrong with me? Why did their words get to me?

I closed my eyes. “So many roads, so little…”

Maybe, maybe, saying these words out loud would help my concentration.

The first one spoke again. “I don’t know, she really needs to learn to count her blessings. We all have troubles in life, and none of us get special treatment for it.”

I silently closed the notebook, and attached the pen to its spine. Notebook now in hand, I hurried toward the exit, where the students were huddled in a half circle.

And I stopped right there.

“Excuse me.”

They turned to me, and gaped when they realized I was there. I don’t know how, but somehow this always happens to me. It’s as if I’m almost invisible.

“Yes, I’m Charlotte, remember?” I forced a smile, before forcing back the tears. “I just want to remind you, that just as the way you have problems I have mine. And just as I don’t judge you based on your problems, I would expect that gesture to be returned. Thank you for your kind words and now I need to go.”

I pushed past them till I was almost running out of school, out of the cruel place. I stopped when I reached the tiny playground, which at this hour was nearly empty. It was slowly starting to darken, or maybe that was just me. I didn’t know. At this moment the world was a cruel and dark place, and I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole.

I would be safer there.

Of course, I knew these people didn’t mean for me to hear their words, but I did. Maybe it wasn’t intended to bring me down, but the fact that they even had the guts to say their thoughts like that came with enough blame.

I smiled weakly when I looked down at my notebook. At least I wasn’t completely alone.

I carefully opened it and took a shaky breath. My eyes scanned the last paragraph I wrote, and once again I read the last sentence. “So many roads, so little…”

However, my concentration was gone. I couldn’t feel the writing urge anymore. My body was like a wordless vessel, waiting for the saving inspiration to come.

It didn’t arrive. Maybe because of the tears that wouldn’t leave, maybe because of the pain pulsing through my heart. It couldn’t come.

“Char!”

I raised my head. It wasn’t Dawn, the girl I almost didn’t talk with anymore. It wasn’t one of those classmates, coming to apologize. It wasn’t Tristan, my boyfriend.

It was Jaime, my best friend.

“Hey, what happened?” He asked as he neared me.

“Nothing,” I answered, forcing my legs to quickly take me away.

Jaime wouldn't let me go. He took a gentle hold of my arm and led me to an empty bench. As we sat down, he scanned me, as if my face hid everything I could ever tell him.

But his attempt was fruitless. Jaime frowned as he carefully took hold of my hand. “Was it your mom again?”

“It was nothing. Just hormones, I guess.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “It was not nothing, Char. Even with all the extra-sensitivity in the world, you need a reason to cry. And you’re not the type of person to cry over nonsense.”

I shook my head. What was I supposed to say?

“I’m not crying,” I said at last.

“You’re about to.”

I smiled. It was a weak one, but it was still there. “You know me too well.”

“That’s my job, as your best friend.”

“I guess.”

I knew Jaime was still waiting for me to answer, but I didn’t know what to say. “It’s stupid. Some kids said things about my mom. I already heard thousands of other stupid comments about her, but their words come and only then I'm tearing up.”

Jaime looked deep into my eyes, his pain almost as strong as mine. “I’m sorry, Char. What did they say?”

“Basically they said that I’m acting like a poor victim and need to stop doing that. That’s it taking too long for me to get over her. All kinds of things.”

Jaime clenched his fists. “I wish I was there to stop them. I hate when people think they understand how it is to be in a certain situation, when they really don’t. It’s not as simple as it seems.”

I smiled weakly. "Thank you."

He squeezed my hand. "It's nothing. I had enough similar experiences. For some reason, people believe they'll always know better than me about adoption." 

I didn’t know what to say. Jaime almost never talks about this, even with me, so hearing him mention it touched me in a million places.

I returned the hold he had on my hand, hoping my warmth will be even a bit of comfort.

Maybe that was what pushed him to continue.

“Some people think that adoption is easy. And maybe it is, for kids who were adopted as babies. But in reality, that’s not the case. I was adopted when I was just a kid, barely old enough to remember. It was hard, moving to a new place, with complete and utter strangers. I felt alone, a little boy trying to figure this world out. Sometimes I still feel that way.”

A bitter smile rose to his face. “There are times when I lie in my bed and wonder what would've happened if my parents wouldn’t have chosen me. Where are my biological parents? Who are they? Who would I had been today if I wasn’t sent to adoption? If Mom and Dad could still send me back, would they?”

“Jaime…”

Jaime’s face suddenly softened. “Charlotte, you also don’t understand how I feel. But you don’t pretend to, and that’s why I know I can share with you anything. I’ll always know you’re here, just like you were all those years ago, when we first met.”

My tears reemerged, but this time out of happiness: pure and blissful joy only Jaime gave me. “Thank you,” I whispered.

Jaime shook his head, his beautiful smile once again on his face. “You still didn’t tell me about how you feel.”

My first instinct was to run behind my regular facade; but this was Jaime, and he just poured his heart out for me. So I took a deep breath, and forces the words out. 

“I know most people don’t understand how death is, and the sad truth is that they’ll never truly get it. No one knows how hard it is to lose someone like Mom, even if they experienced the same type of loss themselves. I hate when some people believe they know better than me, as if they themselves experienced it. How can they know the way her death changed everything completely around? How Dad suddenly stopped smiling, and then started to constantly bring me down? How the happiness in my life is now so much smaller, leaving me almost alone?"

I looked up at Jaime, my eyes shining with tears, adoration and affection. I was so lucky to have him.

"But you're always here, and I will never ever forget that. Jaime, if it wasn't for you…" I shook my head with a smile, "I don't know what I would've done."

He brushed his thumb along my hand, a simple yet genuine smile to his face. "Always."

We sat there for a few more minutes. Everything was quiet, but if before it was haunting, now it was almost relaxing. I may have still been broken, but Jaime was here with me.

"Jaime," I asked once we started walking back, "how did you know to find me?"

A mischievous twinkle rose in his eyes. "Why are you even asking, Char? We're best friends."

When I laughed, the realisation suddenly hit.

Ever since my mom died, ever since everything change, the best moments of my day were with Jaime.

And maybe it would always stay that way.

-Charlotte

[meetthetank]

Peccatum Chapter 9: Fireside Chat

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14454675/chapters/43675304 Rating: Mature Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Category: F/M Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata). Jackass/The Commander (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), 6O (NieR: Automata), 21O, Jackass (NieR: Automata), The Commander (NieR: Automata) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe, genre typical violence, long fic, Slow Burn, War

“Damnit!” 9S shouts, kicking a charred plank.

Ash billows out over the darkening sky as the wood crumbles into dust. A light gust carried the cloud of soot over what remains of the humble grain village; a few free standing bits of scaffolding, defaced statues of the region’s senator, and blackened remnants of stone structures.

“This is the fourth one in a row…” 32S mumbles, burying his head in his hands.

“But…” 801S stammers, “I was here not...a month ago! I was here and it was fine! Everyone was fine!”

He sinks to the ground, a cloud of ash billowing out around him. 9S wraps his arms around his friend’s shoulders as 801S lists the people he met (or at least he thinks they’re people he met...it’s impossible to one charred corpse from the next) who ended up in a vile mass grave burning in the center of town. His voice chokes on the name of a farmhand he had been writing to for some time.

“Why...Why would they attack here?!” 801S yells, “There’s nothing here but wheat! No soldiers lived here! There’s no walls, no battlements...They were just farmers!”

For a moment, a heavy silence fills the air between them.

“...The demons are trying to starve us out,” 11S growls, putting words to what they had realized when they arrived, “It isn’t just bloodlust that makes them target these defenseless towns. These farms supply food all across the Republic. Cut off the supply…”

“...And the capitols weaken,” 9S finishes. “The armies weaken.”

The scouts remain quiet, either out of respect for the dead or from the icy fear that grabs hold of their hearts. Somewhere in the back of all of their minds they knew they were fighting an uphill battle, but this is the first time where they fully realize they’re on the losing side of this war. Grossly outnumbered, outmaneuvered at every turn, unable to keep up with the rapid evolution of their enemy. The only ones that stood a chance were the Devoted, but none of the Theocratic clergymen were allowed within the ranks of a Republic army.

“...One of us should double back to the Commander,” 32S says, breaking the silence.

A low sigh escapes 9S. “No one’s gonna be happy about this. We’ve been marching for nearly three days straight.”

9S volunteers to be the one to go back while the other scouts press onward. A strictly maintained five mile gap separates the main force from the scouts, but with only flat farmland and open fields to cross, it doesn’t take long for him to see Commander White atop her warhorse leading the troops. He falls in step next to her and Lieutenant Jackass’ horses easily.

“Well?” White asks, exhaustion creeping into her normally level tone.

9S sighs. “No good. That town’s been razed too. No survivors either.”

“Damn…” Jackass rubs her face with one hand. “We can’t push them for much longer, White.”

“We can’t stop,” the Commander snaps and pulls a small map from her saddlebag. “It’s far too dangerous to halt everyone out in these open fields.”

“It’s also too dangerous to make exhausted soldiers try to defend anything. Look at them White, any longer than another day or so and they’ll start dropping.”

She gestures to the irregular lines of soldiers and carts, most nursing varying degrees of injury that come with days of nonstop movement. A few hitch rides on carts wherever they can find space, or double up on the back of a horse just to get some kind of reprieve. Even 2B, who 9S can see peeking around the bulk of the army, sits on the healer’s supply cart with 6O.

“Here,” White says, snapping 9S out of his thoughts. “There’s a proper town half a day beyond the one we’re about to pass. Walls and a militia. If that’s been razed too, we stop anyway.”

“Understood.”

With time of the essence Jackass loans 9S her horse, a brown stallion named Hort, to ride further ahead. With the speed of the ornery beast, he catches up to the other scouts within the hour. Relaying the information brings some light and hope back to the scouts. 801S hops on the back of Hort, sitting close behind him as they ride.

To pass the time, the pair chat idly about whatever crosses their mind, careful to avoid heavier subjects or politics. 801S teases 9S about 2B, and in turn 9S teases 801S about the archer boy he’s been eyeing for a while. They reminisce about old times, simpler times, till they see the turrets of the town’s walls.

“Their wall’s still standing!” 801S shouts, bouncing excitedly much to the displeasure of Hort.

9S is about speak, but the sight of a wooden sign with a crude depiction of a half-demon stops the words in his throat. Though it is devoid of words, the message is clear enough to him. A warning. A threat.

801S’ expression sours when he notices the tension creeping through 9S. “...Stop the horse here. I’ll go ahead inside and let the town know the main force is on its way.”

“Thanks,” 9S says with a shudder in his voice.

Uncertainty worms its way through his gut as he rides back towards the advancing army. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s come across a town with that kind of mindset, but it always brings risk. It isn’t exactly like he can blame them, either. With the only thing separating the town from the demon hordes roaming around is a few stones, paranoia is to be expected.

At least within the ranks of an army he’s relatively safe.

The sun reaches its highest peak by the time 9S reaches White again, who announces the good news. Soldiers erupt into cheers, energy surging back through their exhausted bodies. They don’t even complain when she announces that the march will move into double time to reach the town before nightfall, in fact it seems to bolster their spirits further.

9S returns Hort to his owner and hops onto the healer’s wagon with 6O and 2B.

“So, what are you ladies talking about? Girl things?” he asks with a smirk.

6O snorts, “We have much better things to talk about than fashion and marriage.”

2B tilts her head to the side in a way that 9S can’t help but consider adorable. “Is that what humans consider feminine?”

“Well, yeah,” 9S says with as much confusion as is on 2B’s face, “What do Coatyls consider feminine?”

“Stoicism, well maintained weapons, and…” 2B pauses to think for a moment. “...A healthy amount of bloodlust.”

“Oh. That...explains some things.”

6O laughs at his expense. 2B just holds that same bewildered expression she has whenever she’s confronted with the novelties of human culture as 9S and 6O trade playful punches with each other.

“Anyway, 2B,” 6O begins once she’s had her fill of punching and laughing at 9S, “as I was saying, my patron god isn’t necessarily evil. None of the old gods are, they’re simply...forces of nature.”

“Oh no,” 9S groans. “She’s doing this again.”

“Quiet, you.”

He sticks his tongue out at her, but lets 6O continue.

“I’m familiar with the pantheon, but why...that one?” 2B asks.

“They’re representative of nature, decay, the cyclical aspects of life; that kind of thing. They’re a bit overlooked compared to some of the other, more powerful gods.”

“Wait, which one is this again?” 9S interrupts.

“Their name isn’t exactly pronounceable by the untrained tongue, and invoking it without warrant can have...nasty consequences. Roughly translated, the name is Infinite Equine, or Long Horse.”

“Ugh, right. That nasty horse skull thing. It’s so creepy!”

“I have to agree with 9S,” 2B says. “It is a bit...off-putting.”

“What did you think the manifestation of life, death, and rebirth was going to look like?!” 6O snaps. “A cute little rabbit?!”

“You’re a cute little rabbit!” 9S shouts, and bursts into laughter a second later.

“That...doesn’t seem like an insult,” 2B says through barely contained laughter.

True to the Commander’s word, the army arrives at the town’s gates as just as the moon begins to rise. 801S and the rest of the scouts, along with a few local guards, greet them as they pass through the walls. The townsfolk who are still wrapping up their daily routines stop and stare at the army nearly four times the size of their haphazard militia marching down their main street.

He knows it’s a fools game, but 9S can’t help but let his mind wander. This town is decently fortified, relatively clean, not destitute but not aristocratic...It’d be the perfect place to settle down once the war is over. To finally stop being a soldier, being a part of an army and live a simple life. Maybe even get married and start a family. His gaze wanders to 2B, who looks around the town and its well maintained brick buildings with wonder.

Well..so long as he’s fantasizing.

He must look like a blushing maid, but at the moment he doesn’t really care. It’s good for the mind to indulge in the ideal future every now and then. Images play across his mind in quick succession, each one more unobtainable than the last. It doesn’t stop his heart from fluttering at the thought.

What a silly daydream this is. Why would a warrior such as 2B have any desire to be a housewife, to raise children, or to settle down entirely? She probably intends to live and die on the battlefield, swathed in blood and glory. He doesn’t pay it too much mind, it is a simple daydream after all. No need to get too hung up on reality.

Until reality hits him square in the chest.

As the army passes through the center of town, 9S comes face to face with the grim truth of his life. In the middle of the open plaza, a crude wooden gallows looms over them, and from this morbid structure hangs a recent victim.

The body, whose face is obscured by a roughspun sack, appears fresh. The skin is only a pale shade of purple and rot has yet to set in. His hands are bound behind his back with thick rope that cuts into the skin, staining them black with dried blood. He’s stripped of clothing, revealing thick brown fur that covers him from the waist down, barely concealing the wound where his genitals would have been as well as the hooves in place of human feet. A length of parchment hangs from his chest, held in place by rusting iron hooks.

“Here hangs…..for the crime of Demonic Parentage.”

The name appears to have been vandalized, instead of identifying the victim, it instead reads slurs and obscenities 9S would rather not read in their entirety.

A number of soldiers, including 21O and Jackass, fidget and shy away as they pass the body. Tension worms its way through everyone, even the horses grumble with agitation.

He pulls his hood around his face and sinks into anonymity within the ranks of the army.

What a fool he is to dream.

The army pitches a slap-dash camp on the northern side of the town, a rough series of tents and bedrolls. It isn’t much, but it gives the soldiers a chance to sit down and rest within the safety of the walls. They eat and drink and sing bawdy songs around a small fire, and despite the dire state of the war levity and joy returns to the army. If only for a moment.

It all proves to be too much for 2B, who excuses herself to river a few miles away when the songs take a much louder and raunchier turn. She underestimated just how social humans were, the constant chatting and the way they move around in groups of three or more, groups of people who weren’t even related. The open air and quiet solitude is something she needed before she starts snapping at people.

This region’s fish are small, too small for her liking. She should have expected it: the water barely came up to her scaled ankles. They’re more like snacks than a proper meal, each one barely larger than her beak. 6O warned her about passersby that might see a giant white dragon and attack, but the only thing that catches her eye is a deer that gets a bit too close for her liking. She eats her fill of fresh fish, something she’s found herself longing for since falling in with White’s army, then flies back to the town.

2B perches on the top of the wall, taking a moment to preen her wings of dirt and grime. To her surprise the camp is silent, save for the snores of soldiers and the crackling of one remaining campfire. The way they were carrying on, she thought they were going to be at it all night. Their leader must have told them the march would resume early. To 2B, someone who possesses the gift of flight, the whole idea of an ordered march seems unnecessary. She chastises herself for thinking this way, these humans and their awful work beasts called horses don’t have the same abilities she does, so they must work around their faults.

The approaching footsteps of a local guard break her from her musings. Not wanting to attract unwanted attention herself, she hops from the top of the wall in the middle of a transformation. A swordswoman out for a quiet walk is more explainable than a feathered beast in a human’s eyes.

As 2B wanders past the last dying campfire, she notices a familiar face sitting alone. Curled into himself, sitting on the ground, is 9S. His face is buried in his arms, but the shock of white hair is unmistakable, even in the low light. A sharp pang shoots through 2B’s chest at the pathetic sight and finds herself walking over to him.

9S looks up at the sound of encroaching footsteps with fear in his eyes, though his features quickly soften once he realizes it’s only 2B. He gives her a half hearted wave before wrapping his arms around himself.

“You seem troubled,” 2B says, sitting on the ground next to him.

“Huh?” He rubs his face. “No, no I’m fine. I’m…”

“A poor liar.”

9S lets out a quiet chuckle. “Yeah. I guess so.”

2B gives him a moment to collect himself. He sits up straighter, kicking his legs out and letting himself stretch and get a few breaths of cool night air.

“I guess it’s...I’m…” He sighs. “You never really get used to seeing a body that…that could have been you.”

“Ah...I see,” 2B mutters.

How could she be so dense? Of course seeing something like that would affect him. She should try to comfort him.

She has no idea how to comfort humans.

“I’m sorry,” 9S says. “It’s...it’s silly to be scared. White’s army is one of the only safe places for people like me...For half-demons. We can live and work and fight without having to fear our friends turning on us. But…”

He swallows a lump forming in his throat and wipes his eyes. “But the moment I step outside the army, the moment I try and form a life outside combat and war...I could end up on the end of a rope. Or worse.”

“You look human, though. Your charm necklace conceals anything suspect.”

“Yeah, but it isn’t foolproof.” He turns the little charm in his fingers a few times. “It’s weak magic, something a child could pull off. Easily detected or disarmed, but discrete and easy to make. Mom-...21O made this for me, it’s like the one she’s got.”

9S taps the jewel twice. With a faint shimmer, small nub-like growths appear just below his hairline, parting his hair slightly. His thin tail curls around his leg, and his eyes fade to nearly pure white.

It’s odd, 2B has only seen this form only once before, but the shock is gone. It’s about as strange to her as seeing him with a different haircut. So instead of recoiling in fear, all she does is tilt her head a little.

He taps the jewel again and the demonic features disappear. “It’s so stupid...everyone’s so scared of a few weird additions. But...We’re capable of...gods know what.”

9S hangs his head in shame and curls back into himself. He rests his forehead on his knees. “Are you scared, too?”

She twists the end of her robe between her clawed fingers. “I...I’ve never met a half-demon before you, I must admit.”

“Really?”

2B shakes her head and stares into the embers. “I’ve only ever had...encounters...with proper demons.” Her hands curl into fists. “They attacked our village one day, without warning. Even our strongest warriors had trouble fighting them off. They killed…I don’t know how many of us. The village was devastated in just an hour.”

“Oh…”

An aching cold creeps its way through 9S’ chest, one that won’t leave no matter now tightly he pulls his cloak.

“I’ve never met a half-demon before,” 2B says again. “...But if they’re anything like you…”

Her fist unlocks itself, and with uncharacteristic trepidation, she places her hand on his shoulder. 9S doesn’t anticipate just how warm it was, its gentle weight more comforting than his old coat.

“Well...I think you’re a good person.”

9S smiles, just a little, and leans into her, his head resting on her shoulder.

“...Thanks, 2B.”

[thethistlegirl]

Sandbox+IED

So I cannot for the life of me find the person who requested the fic about Mac and Jack’s army days! @amarilloskies​ I know you mentioned it, and @bands-space-and-monsters-oh-my​ had talked about it as well but I don’t think it was either of you two...if this was your request please let me know so I can tag it for you!

“Hey, man, stop playing with that. I mean it.” Jack slaps Carl’s Jr.’s hand away from his radio.

“I can take out that static…”

“I said don’t touch my stuff.” 

Jack may have saved the kid’s life, and he’ll be the first to say Angus MacGyver is the only reason he’s still walking around, but he’s not compromising on that front. Things Angus gets his hands on tend to end up working in ways they were never intended to. The kid might decide to turn the damn thing into a taser.

“I was just trying to help.” Carl’s Jr. crosses his arms, which on Jack would look as belligerent as a club bouncer but on this kid just looks like a toddler who wants to stay up past his bedtime.

OK, if you’re just gonna sit there and glare out the window the whole way back, have it your way. Jack just shrugs and starts whistling “On the Road Again”.

“Jack, stop!” Just a second too late, Jack sees it. The slight difference in the dirt along the side of the road, the darker tone where the soil has been turned over.. And then the world is a blur of noise and dust and heat.

...

When Jack wakes up his chest hurts, his head hurts, but his leg is in agony. He rolls slightly and regrets it immediately at the flare of pain. He blinks and the world swims into a hazy focus, the charred side of the cliff they were driving past, which he’s now propped against, sand and rock all around him, and Carl’s Jr.’s face hovering over him like the kid is some kind of guardian angel.

Jack groans, looking down to assess the damage. If his leg is gone I’m gonna be pissed. Why is that my first thought anyway? He wonders if there’s a concussion to go along with this. Probably.

His leg isn’t gone. It’s just twisted kind of oddly. Broken. Still going to land him in PT but it’s not going to be as bad...provided they get out of here alive.

His leg is awkwardly splinted with parts of a small tree and strips of Carl’s Jr.’s neck scarf. He can’t help but smile at the kid’s typical handiwork.

Mac rocks back on his heels, wiping his forehead with a strangely shaky hand.  “They won’t be looking for us until we don’t make it back to base.”

“What about radios?”

“Yours is smashed to smithereens, and mine,” the kid grunts softly, “is sort of at the bottom of a cliff in the flaming wreck that used to be our humvee.”

“Well, you’re the whiz kid, can’t you fix the busted one?”

“Not when it’s scattered across all the sand from here to that cliff.” Mac sighs, and he sounds more irritated and defeated than Jack’s ever heard him. Normally the kid’s a cross between a golden retriever puppy and a ray of sunshine, even after pulling back to back rotations.

“We’re not too far from that last village. Walk back, find a way to contact base. I’ll be fine here.” Jack settles himself a little more comfortably against the rock. If whoever set that IED comes back to check their work, he’d like to be able to defend himself.

“Um, I’m kind of not going anywhere.” Mac shifts, and suddenly Jack sees the burgundy stain just above his hip, spreading down his leg. There’s something eerily bright in the center of it, something reflecting the sunlight.

“Aww man, kid.” The fact that the IED had been planted to flip a vehicle over the cliff had put it on the kid’s side of the humvee. He must have taken the worst of the shrapnel.

“Eventually they’re gonna start looking for us. We just have to hold out till then.” Mac picks up a canteen. “Here, you can’t afford to get dehydrated or get a fever. Just be careful, it’s all we’ve got.”

The canteen is barely half-full. It’s Jack’s, his name is written on the side of it. “You don’t have yours?”

“Mine got punctured. Probably by the same shrapnel that’s in my side.” The kid slumps against the wall of rock, his face several shades paler than when he was first checking on Jack. He’s losing blood too fast.

Jack pulls off his own scarf, rolls sideways, biting down on a cry of pain, and presses the cloth to the kid’s side. Mac gasps and shudders, fists clenching and eyes squeezing shut. “Sorry, kid, but if we don’t do something about this you’re gonna bleed out before anyone comes for us.”

Mac nods and presses shaking hands to the already bloodstained cloth. Jack cuts off the sleeves of his shirt to tie the makeshift bandage around the kid’s waist and put some more pressure on it. He reaches for the canteen and holds it up to the kid’s mouth. Mac just shakes his head.

“You’re the one leaking fluid. Come on, drink it.” Jack’s throat is as parched as the sand, but he’s a Texas kid, born and raised, he knows how far he can go before dehydration gets the best of him. And he’s not in serious danger, yet.

Carl’s Jr., on the other hand, is bleeding and possibly starting to run a low grade fever. Jack rests a hand on the kid’s forehead and sighs, then checks his watch. They should have made it back to base by now. Someone should be coming for them…

…

Minutes feel like hours in the silent emptiness of the desert. The only thing breaking the monotony of the swish of wind and sand is Carl’s Jr.’s labored breathing, and the only way Jack can tell time is passing is by how much shallower and more pained each of those breaths becomes.

Between them, they’ve nearly finished the canteen of water. Jack’s lips are parched and cracking, his arms are sunburnt, and his leg is throbbing in time with his heartbeat. But none of that holds a candle to how bad the kid looks. Mac is so pale the sunburn he’s sporting seems almost nonexistent. He’s shivering despite the oppressive heat, and his breaths are little more than whistling whimpers.

Jack taps the kid’s shoulder, and when Mac blinks lazily awake, he tips the canteen to the kid’s mouth and gives him the last of the water. It’s gonna be okay, kid, we’re gonna be okay...

...

Jack’s not sure if it’s a mirage or reality. All he knows is that he can see someone running toward them. And then he blacks out.

…

When Jack wakes up, he feels fuzzy, like the world is part of one of those viewfinders that don’t always click perfectly into place. His shoulders ache and burn, his leg is faintly throbbing, still, and he feels oddly detached. But not so much that he forgets to turn and look at the bed next to him.

Mac is sleeping, some color back in his sunburnt cheeks and his body finally still, no longer shaking from pain and shock. Jack, suddenly exhausted, flops back against the pathetic excuse for a pillow. He can sleep for a week. As long as the kid’s safe.

And then a hand fumbles for his, and Jack smiles, letting their fingers twist together. I got you, kid. Everything’s gonna be just fine.

[xpuriity]

( 10 underused character questions. )

Introduction

Name: Rosa Age:  21 Your favorite picture of your muse:  

Questions

01.  What would be their twitter name? What sorts of tweets would they tweet?

twitter name:  songbird ♫ 

She tweets a lot!! It’s her favorite social media just because its icon is a bird. But basically she would tweet some of her song lyrics, cute, inspirational and positive tweets, like remember to drink water or smile today or something — a bit of her feelings, random stuff about her day like how she found a cute feather or saw a bird do something adorable or about her friends and love being sweet. Basically anything she finds cute? She would have a really positive, inspirational and wholesome kind of twitter.

02.  What’s their favorite genre of movies? Of music?

Rosa is weak for a good romance or fantasy story, she would rather fairy tales with a nice adventure and a happy ending than anything dark or gruesome. At the same time however, she is quite agreeable, so if with friends, she won’t try to be too picky, though depressing dramas with tragic but realistic ends put a downer on her mood for days. 

The aspiring musician is also an avid watcher of reality show singing competitions such as xfactor and the voice; she watches them religiously as they are a source of inspiration to her, motivating her to follow her dreams of making it into the music world someday, hence gets all emotional when her faves are eliminated or make it through to the next rounds. 

- - -

Due to her immense love for music, Rosa happens to appreciate all kinds of music though preferring some genres over others. Her most go to genre is lyrical and soft, the kind of emotional tunes that just tug on the heart. However, when feeling a bit more playful and bouncy, it’s also not unlikely for her to be dancing around her room to some bubblegum pop. 

03.  What’s on their top queue on Netflix?

Probably a Nicholas Sparks movie or some soap operas. 

04.  What’s their favorite scent? Do they smell like that?

Rosa favors the scent of the ocean and its breeze, as well as having a liking to the faint smell of charring / charcoal due to associating the flame with a particular freckled angel. 

However, she doesn’t smell like either — she smells sweet, clean, pure and feminine — a blend of vanilla and strawberry, she gives of a faint scent of sugar and freshly baked goods mixed with the daintiness and delicacy of moisturizing creams and beauty products.

05.  Apple or Android?

She has an apple — because of all the cute phone covers and accessories she can get for it

06.  Favorite Season? Least favorite season?

Rosa’s favorite season is summer — she loves to have fun in the sun and a warm summer breeze is always favored over colder weather. 

If considering her opposition to cold weather, one would assume winter to be her least favorite season but that is not the case. In fact, Rosa does NOT have a least favorite season because to her the seasons are more associated with events and emotion than weather.

Winter happens to be the season of festivities, as well as the season holding her most favorite day of the WHOLE year — the day her favorite person in the universe was born so it will always be special to her. 

07. Are they a bottom or top or versatile?

Of course top bunk! the higher she is, the closer she is to the skies and the birds. 

08.  Describe their morning routine. Do they wake up early or sleep in? Do they press the snooze button a bunch of times or do they immediately get up?

Rosa is a morning bird — like a clock set to go off, needless for an alarm, she always happens to awake right before its about to ring, and is up and at it before the sun even rises.

Her morning routine then includes some light exercises followed by an early shower, skin care, moisturizing and then she is off to watch the sunrise and listen to the birds sing. She may go back to bed after just to watch her love sleep or cuddle him while awaiting for him to wake up or would simply spend the few hours till then lounging around, possibly working on some lyrics while enjoying the peace and quiet. 

09.  If they were to be compared to a canon character, who would that be? (Spirit animal)

There have been many characters in tv shows or movies who gave off some Rosa vibes, but I can’t think of any at the top of my head right now.

10. Finish this sentence, muse:  What would ___ do?

    ❝  —  What would papa do?  ❞

tag five people so they can get to know their muse too!

@xpyre​ / @xvoiir​

@iinerlaced​

@rain-ya / @xluck​

@rebclangcl​

@valiantbcrn​

tagged by. @xlutea​ ♡ ♡ ♡

[catflowerqueen]

Future plot point

Please enjoy this snipped of a major plot event that is going to happen way, way down the line in “Stars, Not Constellations.”

I’ll tag it as spoilers, but it’s probably going to go through so many edits and changes before it becomes relevant that it might not even matter that much

The door opens, and you barely spare a second to ascertain that the troll in front of you is, in fact, your quadrant-mate and not her moirail before your fist is slamming into her nose. A satisfying “crunch!” reverberates through the air, followed by a not-so-satisfying feeling of sharp, lancing pain reverberating through your fingers. Also unsatisfying is the fact that you can’t even savor the look of shock on your ash-mate’s face, or the fact that you actually did succeed in breaking her nose. This is because as soon as your hand drew back from the punch, both hands shot out and you lunged, grabbing the collar of her shirt.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Answer. Your. Texts.” You demand, teeth gritted, eyes glaring, and breathing heavy as your hands shake. Your fists grip even harder and cause the fabric of her collar to crumple. “Do you even know what’s been happening here, these past few weeks? With the community center, and that crazy little—!”

 You can’t even finish the thought. Your mind is too full of flashes of the images you saw on the news, from right after the attack. Of the smoke and the charred bits of the community center she and her peers frequent so much. Of the pooling blood on the floor, in her exact shade. Of the stories of various heroic trolls who lost their lives in an attempt to shield their fellows from the blasts. Of the fact that there were still, even now, weeks later, victims who were unidentified, and unaccounted for.

 Of the way, only days before the attack, she stormed out after that fight, and how your last words to each other were filled with such genuine hurt and rage—because you didn’t understand, you couldn’t understand her feelings, and, despite everything, you’re still too human and too you and don’t understand which boundaries need your auspistice as a guide before you can think of even toeing those lines.

 Of the weeks of total radio silence afterwards, and not knowing whether or not she was even still—

 You take a shaky breath, and your head—almost unconsciously—thunks into her chest. Your hands still tremble where they grip her collar, and the rest of your body follows suit.

 “…Why didn’t you answer your texts…?” you repeat again, softer, as you feel the embarrassing pinpricks of tears start to form in the corner of your eyes, hidden by your ever-present shades.

 Above you, you hear her exhale, attributing only thirty-percent of the shakiness you hear in her own voice as she does so to the pain of her broken nose, while the remaining seventy is due to her own emotional response to your overemotional display.

 “It’s kind of hard to do that when one’s ashenmate flakes out on his promise to upgrade your phone so it still has service off-planet,” she answers, far more diplomatically than you probably deserve right now given… everything.

 Still, you accept the peace offering for what it is as you finally loosen your grip and step away from her. “Well maybe if one’s ashenmate actually bothered to learn even of a quarter of the readily available information on coding that is easily obtainable through a very simple google search, then that offer wouldn’t have had to have been made in the first place.”

 You watch as she dusts herself off, acting nonchalant about the situation and seemingly uncaring about the giant stretch you just put into her shirt’s collar. Actually, knowing her, she probably isn’t going to care about the stretch later, given that a moment’s study of her actual appearance reveals she’s wearing some of her more “casual” clothing—which you would almost classify as a “general housework” outfit meant to get dirtied by such things as painting, dusting, or yardwork if you didn’t already know that she basically lives in sweats and t-shirts when she isn’t working. But she might be a bit more concerned about the bloodstains her shirt is currently acquiring, from both her own still bleeding nose and the red marks of human blood intermittently smearing the fabric.

 As you take a moment to nonchalantly straighten your own outfit as well, you surreptitiously glance at your knuckles. Yep, just as you’d theorized after first meeting her so long ago—while it is possible to break a sea troll’s nose without breaking your own fingers, it’s still definitely going to break the skin of them.

 But either you weren’t as surreptitious as usual, or she noticed the red blood faster than you’d thought she would—given how hard it typically is to spot red blood on top of tyrian—because as soon as she finishes dusting herself off and straightening up, she says, “We should call Jane—it looks like your lack of proper etiquette when visiting someone’s house resulted in you injuring yourself.”

 You raise a brow, but otherwise give no indication of the fact that you know what she’s really after in her wish to call Jane—and it’s nothing to do with the fact that broken noses are incredibly painful. Still, you can privately admit that you’re rattled enough to give her this out. “Nah, I made the correct call etiquette-wise when it comes to actions undertaken while visiting a stubborn ash-mate whose hard-headedness is apparently just as much a physical trait as a mental one.”

 She merely rolls her eyes and leans against the door frame, lifting her own eyebrow imperiously and crossing her arms—because of course she’s going to make you be the one to call Jane. The worst part is that you can’t even tell which one of you gets to declare your compliance as a win. You are eighty percent sure that the reason you have to be the one to call your middle leaf is because the troll in front of you is an absolute heathen who doesn’t keep at least five computing and/or cellular devices on her at all times—especially when she’s in the comfort of her own home. But the other twenty percent is still stuck on the guilt and lingering terror that you know, despite how dense you still are when it comes to these types of social interactions, is a consequence of your starting this mess in the first place all those weeks ago.

 But you guess the fact that you’re even thinking of the current situation in terms of winning and losing… as well as the fact that this confrontation turned violent in the first place without an official strife being called… is part of the reason you need your auspistice on hand in the first place.

 You get the feeling that this is going to be a very long conversation… and the feeling only increases tenfold when you hear a cry from further inside the house that causes your quadrant-mate to straighten in alarm and look towards the source, and you suddenly remember the contents of the group chat message that led you to rush over here in the first place.

[boredsingaporean]

Chapter 25: Small Shops with Great People

When we talk about shopping in Singapore, we would naturally think of Orchard Road. With a slew of major shopping centers flanking both sides of the road, from Wheelock Place to Wisma Atrium, to Ngee Ann City, to Paragon, to Centerpoint, to Orchard Point, to Plaza Singapore, the temptation of buying is hard to resist. All the labels like Louis Vuitton are there; all the luxurious restaurants like Lawry's are there; all the supermarkets like Carrefour are there. It is easy to spend the whole day there just eating and buying. With the development of public housing estates, smaller shopping centers like Jurong Point are also built in the area to serve the residents in the estates. These estate shopping centers are usually situated just next to the MRT station and/or bus terminals. They would have the usual fashion shops like Giodano, healthcare shops like Body Shop, fast food restaurants like McDonald’s and even major electronics and electrical appliances stores like Harvey Norman. To the residents, these estate shopping centers are more convenient than Orchard Road and usually less crowded. But of course, the range of products and services would not be as comprehensive. Going deeper into the housing estates, you will find two-storey flats, usually situated near dry or wet markets, with small shops on the ground floor. These small shops, usually owned by families, provides convenient shopping for the residents who live a distance away from the estate shopping centers. Due to their cheaper rents, the products and services found in these shops are priced even lower than those found in the estate shopping centers. However, reasonable pricing is not the only factor that attracted the residents to these shops. These shop owners are good at handling customer relationships. My mom had sent me to the video rental shop to return her rented VCDs which were one-day late. The video rental shop is run by an old man and several young ladies, probably his daughters. It is a small shop with shelves of movies and TV serials, in VCDs and video tapes formats, from the Western countries, Hong Kong, Taiwan and China. My mom would usually rent Hong Kong TV serials from this shop. Though the local television station screens TV serials from Hong Kong regularly, those serials are normally at least one year old, whereas the serials that she rented from the shop could be as new as one month old. Furthermore, she preferred to watch her TV serials in Cantonese because she felt that after some sentences were translated from Cantonese to Chinese, some native language humor could be lost. I handed the box of VCDs to the old man at the counter. “What’s your card number?” “Err… I don’t know… let me check with my family.” Gosh, my mom forgot to tell me her membership number. “No, it’s okay. Just tell me your phone number.” I gave the old man my house number which he keyed into the computer beside the cashier. Seconds later, he retrieved my mom’s membership number and took out her rental card from a box of other rental cards. He opened the box of VCDs, checked it and signed on the rental card. “Okay, that’s all,” the old man told me as he kept the box of VCDs. “Erm… I think we’re a day later than the return date,” I reminded him. “How much is the late fine?” “Yeh, I know. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” How forgiving. Perhaps our credit card companies and that major telecommunications service provider should learn from this old man and stop sending out warning letters when my cheques were late by a day or two. There are two hairdressing saloons and a Malay barber shop below these two-storey flats. These hairdressing saloons are not as elegantly renovated as the REDS, Vive or Peter & Guys, and their hair stylists are not as highly paid. They do not provide you Cosmopolitan or Men’s Health for your reading pleasure while waiting, and they do not serve you Evian mineral water, tea or coffee. However, their hair stylists are friendly and committed to help their customers. Oh, and they charge a much cheaper rate. One afternoon, I was going to one of those hairdressing saloons for a much needed hair cut. Before I reached the saloon, I could hear screams coming out from it. “Boy, I won’t hurt you… come on, let aunty cut here…” “Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” “Baby, don’t be so scared… let the good aunty cut your hair, then you’ll look nice nice…” “Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” “Okay… don’t move, okay? Just a while more…. “ “Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” “Baby, you let aunty cut your hair and I’ll buy you ice-cream okay?” “Wahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” A lady was sitting on the saloon chair and hugging her little boy close to her, while two hair stylists tried to cut his hair. The freaked out little boy was crying and screaming till his face was all red and full of perspire. The mother tried to coax him with colorful hair clips, sweets and small toys, while the hair stylists stood on both sides of the little boy and tried to steal a cut or two when his head was still for the few split seconds. The commotion lasted for about an hour and the hair stylists finally managed to finish the little boy’s hair cut. When the lady was leaving the saloon, she felt so embarrassed for the commotion caused that she kept apologizing to the two perspiring hair stylists. “No worries, Mdm,” the hair stylists assured her with their understanding smiles. After the lady and her little boy left, the hair stylists went back to work. One of them smiled at me and apologized for the wait, then took me to a seat. I had a quick and simple hair cut that was finished in about fifteen minutes and it cost me ten dollars. In recent years, a slew of ten dollars cut saloon have opened in Singapore. These small saloons with three to four hair stylists are originated from Japan, based on the concept of “ten dollars for a ten minutes cut”. Instead of washing your hair after the cut, they will ‘vacuum’ the loose hairs from your head using a tube that sucks in air. The hair stylists do not talk to their customers except for the mechanical “good morning” or “good afternoon” greetings in Japanese that are shouted at the customers as they entered the saloon. I wondered are the uncles looking for cheap hair cuts puzzled by the string of unknown language shouted at them. Usually we could find a bakery shop among these neighboring stores. The bakery shop at my neighborhood does not sell costly fusion breads like those pork floss breads, sweet potatoes breads and tuna breads sold in new age bakeries like BreadTalk. In stead, they have the traditional breads like cheap char siew, a.k.a. BBQ pork, breads, red bean breads and curry chicken breads. All of these traditional breads look like a plain round bun regardless of their fillings and it is not easy to differentiate which is which without looking at the name tags. They do not look as artistic as those fusion breads and they are not as finely baked. However, when I bite into them, it made me reminisce about my childhood, about those days when a char siew bread for the recess break could satisfy me so much. Besides traditional breads, there are also traditional cakes sold in the bakery shop. These are simple sponge cakes with butter cream toppings. Butter cream, unlike fresh cream that is light and puffy, tastes thick and buttery. One small rectangular piece of these traditional cakes and you will feel full immediately. These traditional cakes were used to make huge and colorful birthday cakes in the past, with shapes like Mickey Mouse, amour tank or simply numbers. When I was still a kid, I remembered that you could tell the age of the birthday boy or girl just by looking at the birthday cake, because the cakes will be in the shapes of their age. Two shops after the bakery shop is a hardware shop. These typical hardware shops sell cheap baking tools, kitchen utensils, working tools, plumbing tools and parts, and lots of plastic containers and pails. Before festive seasons like Deepavali, Hari Raya Puasa and Chinese New Year, the hardware shop will sell lots of baking pans in different shapes and sizes for the housewives to bake their festive goodies. But the hardware shop acts primarily as a life saver for the residents during emergency situations… “Beng! The flushing button on the toilet bowl’s flush box is spoilt! After I pressed it, it just stays down and the water just flush non-stop!” “Mom, I think the enclosed spring for the flushing button is spoilt.” “Then hurry up and get a new spring from the hardware shop downstairs!” “Beng, the kitchen light is spoilt. I suspected that the starter is spoilt.” “Okay Dad, I’ll get a starter from the hardware shop.” After my dad changed the starter, the kitchen light still refused to light up. “Maybe it is the light tube that’s spoilt. Beng, could you go downstairs to get a new light tube?” I could not imagine my life without that hardware shop in the neighborhood. To me, these shops definitely meant to me more than the big departmental stores at Orchard Road. I knew I could trust those shop owners and I could definitely use their advices. Their ranges of products might not be as rich as those offered in big departmental stores, but at least the essentials are there. And though they might not know my name, I know these uncles and aunties know me.