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drunkenkissesatdusk · 7 months ago

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ARE YOU FLIRTING?

pairings — simon (dinner in america) x reader

warnings — swearing, simon may get a little mean idk yet, finally not an already established relationship, a little oblivious reader and a pretty blatant simon, tiny bit of projecting (just to say the reader likes riot grrl music), one mention of smoking (and a scene where they do smoke weed i’m sorry it’s a part of his character forgive me please)

summary — working at a record shop was supposed to be fun and relaxed, yet you (specifically you) have a regular customer who sometimes asks for recommendations and seems to have a staring problem.

notes — okay so hey… i watched dinner and america… this is my literal longest thing written sorry

i. the first time you met Simon

━━━━━━━ IT WAS QUIET, the silent hum of music flowing in from the vinyl player. it was connected to speakers, filling what would have been an unbearable silence, which would conjure a consistent ringing in your ears. you didn’t want that.

you were used to the dragging and seemingly endless Mondays at the record shop. most days did seem quiet, minus the days there would be some real shows of people who can’t sell physical copies and people who can’t sing. you hated it, but you loved working with music.

besides, who’d pass up being able to play whatever record they wanted through the entire store?

you wouldn’t.

flipping through a comic you grabbed from the dwindling comic section, the door rang. briefly looking up, a man walked through. he seemed pissed off, but clearly wasn’t mad at you.

you could see the top of his head at the punk rock section, and didn’t let your gaze linger. the comic - what one you chose, you didn’t seem to remember the title of - was somewhat capturing.

you didn’t like the female character, you didn’t like the male character either (you didn’t like any characters), but you had nothing better to do. if you had been in high school still, you’d probably be doing homework hunched over the front counter.

“excuse me?” you looked up, a police officer with his shiny badge was standing in front of you, and you could see the guy crouched on the floor. you’d never lied to an officer of the law, but everyone starts somewhere.

“hey; what’s up? we just got a new order of Metallica, if you’ve got somewhat good music taste.” you grinned. the officer didn’t, and your face fell again.

“i’m lookin’ for this man.” he slapped a flyer poster down, you looked at the page. Simon, whoever he was, was clearly in need of a haircut.

“so’s a haircut.” you scoffed, sliding it forwards and shaking your head, “sorry dude, no Simon’s here.” the officer glared at you and looked to a corner suddenly.

your eyes flashed to who you’d guess to be Simon, crouched behind a rack. hurriedly, you waved for him to lay flat. dropping your hair seconds before the officer saw, he gave you a hard nod and left.

opening the employees only entrance to behind the counter, it wasn’t hard to find him laying on the ground. “i’m guessing you’re Simon?” you hummed, standing over him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“who are you?” he spat. after a brief introduction, you walked away from him. sliding to the riot grrl section, your hands seemed to automatically find a Bikini Kill album. you grinned at walked back behind the counter.

you didn’t see Simon afterwards, he’d left out of the front entrance and walked somewhere. you were reading your comic again.

ii. second time meeting him, and he stays longer.

━━━━━━━ FRIDAYS, the only days that your manager opened the stage in the back of the building for live performances. typically it was packed, and you’d have to remove a few drunk teenagers and break up a few couples from having sex right then and there, but it seemed emptier than before.

you found out that quickly that you’d spoken too soon, as a flood of people came in and the back door bands used buzzed. you groaned internally - and externally - and opened the door. flashing your customer service smile, you pointed them to the back.

there was a small fluster of background noise after everyone went to the back and flooded that area.

you already missed your silence.

“hey, you the worker from Monday?” Simon, familiar in the second cluster of people, asked you when he separated from the hoard. you nodded, biting back a yawn and cracking your back when you finally stood up straight.

“not gonna go listen t’the band?” you slurred as you fought back a yawn again.

“nah, not yet. those assholes don’t know how to play.” Simon scoffed. you grinned tiredly.

“almost every band that plays here doesn’t know how to. i wish we sold alcohol here, i’d love to drink right now.” you hummed, tapping your hand against the table. “or coffee.” you muttered. the muttered phrase was meant for just you, but Simon seemed to have heard.

he didn’t say anything else, spinning around and walking to the back.

iii. meeting after rude customers

━━━━━━━ YOU DIDNT REALLY REMEMBER what day it was. but you were standing behind the same counter like before, as you did nearly every day of the week.

“excuse me?” the woman was blond, wearing high-heel stilettos and a short pink skirt and matching juicy couture top, “you sold my son this, and he is not allowed to listen to whatever soon-to-be-drug-dealer drugs you put in this music. i want a refund.” she annoyingly chewed her gum, loud nails clacking against her glasses when she went to readjust them.

“sorry ma’am, no refunds.” you huffed.

“that’s just… unacceptable! you have to give me a refund.” she exclaimed.

“dude, i literally can’t. im sorry but im not allowed to.” deadpanning her, your eyes - donning a bored look cast through her eyes - met her sunglasses. you could see your expression, uninterested and tired. she lowered them to glare at you.

“i don’t care what the hell your rules say, give me a fucking refund!” she exclaimed.

“dude can you not yell? it’s not in my hands.” you scoffed.

“give me a fucking refund!” she screamed. then the door rang (only you seemed to hear it) and you could hear a slightly familiar thudding footsteps approaching you and this woman and her awkward looking son.

“christ lady, shut the hell up and accept that you aren’t getting a damn refund.” Simon overstepped her, cutting her off and practically forcing her away from you and the counter.

you grinned small, leaning against the back counter. it didn’t take awhile for the woman to give up and walk off. her son silently followed behind her.

a silence followed afterwards, you waited for Simon to say something and you assumed he was waiting for you to say something. neither of you did for a little, and you silently cursed yourself out for not having an album spinning at the moment.

“people do that often?” Simon reached into his pocket, shuffling around in it until he produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. you cringed silently.

“nah, only when i’m super lucky.” you huffed. Simon brought a cigarette to his lips and flicked his lighter on. promptly, he lit the cigarette and took a drag from it.

“call that lucky?” he raised an eyebrow.

“ask a lot of questions?” you retaliated, exiting the front counter and finding yourself in the riot grrl section again. after you found an album, you opened it, prepared it, and put it on the record player.

with music in the background, you let another tsunami of silence flush over the two of you. it wasn’t awkward since you were more focused on unpacking a newer shipment of vinyls.

the store had recent had a flush of customers and bands playing, which helped you get a raise, but didn’t help your slight social awkwardness. you managed to cope by not hanging out with people outside of work anymore.

with your sudden interest switching to the new vinyls, you didn’t notice Simon leaving.

iv. coworkers and being hit on

━━━━━━━ AS MUCH AS IT SEEMED YOU DIDN’T, you did have coworkers. a few high school students and then a few older middle-aged guys. despite that, you didn’t really like most of them.

you liked the peace that came with single-person shifts, which were mostly what was worked, but events that had multiple bands coming up meant there’d be more than one worker.

you didn’t have to go into work until evening.

but that evening, you were displeased to see the most irritating coworker of yours by far. Chase, a middle aged man who still lived with his parents and was “voluntarily celibate”, was consistently hitting on you.

you didn’t like him, and you made it very obvious. sometimes you were so blatant you thought any child could understand you clearly. Chase was worse than a child.

not to mention, you’d grown accustomed to seeing Simon on most of your shifts, and it had been awhile since he’d shown up. you were a little worried, but you didn’t know him all that well regardless.

you still worried.

during the later half of the shift, the one that included the bands showing up and having to spend all your shift breaking up fights, sex, and so much more you never wanted to talk about anymore.

“hey,” Chase said with your name afterwards, “y’know we could go catch a drink after this.” he offered. you stared at him blankly. you clocked in 5 minutes ago.

“no.” you deadpanned, resting your already beginning-to-ache head against the cold counter. Chase was on the other side, but was still talking to you.

when the door opened, and you could hear the familiar stomping of Simon’s boots, you grinned just a little. you could hear him practically storming closer to the front, as Chase continued to blabber on and on about going out with him.

Simon called your name, and you rose your head. “cmon, i wanna talk to you.” he didn’t look at Chase, just at you. you groaned dramatically, going to slam your head down. a hand on the counter where you were gonna let your head thud against stopped it.

Simons hand led to his body, and his eyes were waiting for you to go with him.

so you did.

you had 30 minutes, and this would count for your break instead of you just taking it later on. you’d probably hate yourself for that later on, but now that you weren’t being hit on by Chase and there were no mean customers, you were happy.

“you smoke?” Simon held up a pre-rolled joint.

“no, i haven’t.” you shook your head.

“wanna try?”

“sure.”

twenty minutes later, you were lying on your back on the blanket you laid out to sit on. Simon was beside you, still sitting up. with the affects of the weed passing over you, your sudden need to have your hands on someone else sent your hands to draw shapes on Simon’s back.

he didn’t seem to notice, or care, and let you carry on.

“where have you been lately?” you asked carefully, your words softly spoken with a grin across your face and eyelids drooping to nearly being closed.

“out.” he hummed. you didn’t bring it back up, letting his words be the only explanation. “you got a boyfriend? girlfriend?” he asked. you shook your head, you didn’t have a relationship because most of your time had unfortunately been devoted to the record shop.

“do you?” you asked him right back.

“nah.” Simon mumbled.

“hey, breaks over.” Chase said, his head popped out of the door. you groaned dramatically, letting your body go lax and not moving.

Simon grinned, his head turned to look at you. every other body part was still, except for your hand - which you kept on a consistent movement drawing a star over and over again.

when he stood up, you frowned as your hand dropped. he reached down again, whisking you from the floor and helping you stand.

for the rest of the night, Simon stayed in the shop until you were done with work and about to walk home. without you noticing, he began walking with you and another joint was shared.

once you made it home, you unlocked the door and let you and Simon in. it was an apartment complex, and you led your guest alongside you to the elevators, which you used to find your apartment.

you unlocked that door too, and let Simon in and closed the door behind you both. “y’hungry?” you asked him. he shrugged, which you took as a ‘yes’, so you began making a box of mac ‘n’ cheese.

Simon took it upon himself to explore your apartment in that moment. you didn’t stop him, letting him look around and walk through every room. after some time, you called him back over and handed him the bowl of food, sitting down on the couch.

after eating, you and Simon found yourself basking in the soft glow of the moonlight on your balcony. it was calm, and there wasn’t really anything happening, seeing as it was around 12 a.m. at this point.

you could’ve fallen asleep out there, the guy you brought with you sitting separated from you by the door, a choice he made himself. you didn’t bother telling him he could come closer, if he didn’t want to sit by you originally then he didn’t have to in the end. you were fine with it.

“i’m gonna go, alright?” Simon said after an hour or so of sitting outside with nothing really happening. you nodded, weakly and tiredly waved goodbye.

he was gone after that.

v. record recommendations

━━━━━━━ YOU DIDN’T SEE SIMON FOR a few weeks after that. you didn’t expect to entirely, he was a little flaky like that, but you at least thought he could tolerate you better than dropping from the face of the earth suddenly.

you spent awhile alone at work again, standing behind the register listening to music and doing stupid stuff, it grew more and more boring.

you missed Simon’s presence. it was the one thing that differed from your typical workday which made everything a little more tolerable.

rather than rest on pondering the “what if”s of this whole situation, you’d found a rather interesting pass time. you began listening to more albums in an attempt to expand your music taste.

even that was in vain - it never worked.

after a week, you gave up the final sliver of hope and stopped wishing. you happily grew more adjusted to spending shifts without anyone with you, and it became easier and easier to go to work.

the third day after what you’d dubbed “The Acceptance” (you had nothing better to do, and were now clinging onto anything that could make it all more interesting) the door chimed and you could see the familiar face and hear the familiar stomping.

“hey, welcome in. do you need help finding anything?” if he wanted to be flaky, you could be petty and treat him like a normal customer. you held up a faux smile, throwing on your “customer ready” face.

Simon stared at you, and you patiently waited for him to do something, say something. but he didn’t. he continued to stare, which grew slightly more irritating.

you huffed internally, cussing him out in your mind while you were at it, spinning on your feet and walking to the side where boxes of new shipment lay.

pulling one up to counter, you grabbed the box cutters and opened it. a new set of the most sold album. you didn’t expect these to last awhile.

“excuse me?” a father with his son walked up to the counter closest to where you were opening boxes to restock the inventory.

you looked up, “yeah what’s up?” you set the cutters down and walked to the front counter.

“do you guys have anymore Korn albums? specifically Follow the Leader.” the father asked. you hummed, walking into the back after quickly excusing yourself. walking back out, album in hand, you were surprised to see Simon still standing there.

you gave the father and son the album, checked them out, and sent them out with a smile.

“did you need something, dude?” you finally broke the silence, back turned to Simon as you kept unpacking box after box.

you didn’t hear anything for a minute, and you prepared to say something else. “that genre you like, give me a recommendation for a band.” his voice was rough, and he sounded hesitant.

you turned around again to stare at him, sighing and complying. you gave him a Bikini Kill album (Pussy Whipped, specifically) and checked him out. as you went to say goodbye, he stomped off.

vi. admittance

━━━━━━━ THE NEXT TIME YOU SAW Simon, was a week later. you’d grown even more used to his absence, and no longer felt as bored as you originally did. you felt the same as before Simon showed up.

it’s like he never walked in.

until he did, the first day you met him and now.

“has anyone flirted with you?” he demanded as soon as he got to the counter. you stared at him in mock-awe.

“seriously, Simon? you turn into a disappearing act like you’re goddamn Houdini, but now you can walk in here and use that type of tone?” you rolled your eyes. huffing, you shook your head tiredly.

“has anyone flirted with you?” he repeated his question. your anger subsided into confusion.

“pretty sure, probably not seriously. why?” you hesitated to answer at first, genuine curiosity running through you like your own blood.

“that explains it. when are you off? or going on break?” he asked.

“i get off in an hour, and my break was like twenty minutes ago. why?” you took a step closer to the one thing stopping you from walking straight up to Simon.

he shook is head, “i’ll be back in an hour, then.” he muttered, turning around and stomping out.

the hour that you had left was dragging on suddenly, and your body practically shook with nerves and insecurity and one too many thoughts for the rest of the day.

you tried everything to get rid of it, attempting to listen to music (your thoughts were louder), attempting to read a book (the words moved when you tried focusing, like they were shaking with your nerves), and trying to work on inventory (there was nothing to unbox).

once it was over, and you were clocking out, you were surprised to see Simon driving a blue truck. he waited for you, as you hesitantly approached the car. with a single honk of his car and a mean glare, you got in quickly.

he hardly waited for you to get in before driving off. you didn’t get scared or anything, you just braced yourself and got comfortable in the plush seats.

“who’s truck is this?” you quizzed.

“my friends.” he bluntly spoke, leaving no room for any other conversation.

it didn’t really bother you, the silence was comforting and now that you were with Simon, your previous nerves and feelings had been dropped entirely.

after what seemed to be around an hour, Simon pulled onto a desolate dirt road, that switched to a untouched grassy trail. your relaxation turned into confusion. was he about to kill you? you expected you’d live a few more years, but maybe you were wrong.

he parked near a cliff, and got out. you went to follow him, but he closed your door before you could. you watched him in confusion as he circled the car and opened it for you.

you looked at him, even more confused than before. this was not like the Simon you had been talking to in the past.

“who are you and what have you done with Simon?”

“shut up and come the fuck on.” now it sounded like the Simon you knew, you grinned playfully and got out.

“are you taking me here to kill me?” you questioned carefully.

“why the hell would i do that?” he turned to you, confusion written across his face.

“no clue, not every serial killer needs a motive.” you tapped your temple after saying that, before pointing at him.

“what the fuck.” he muttered.

“you choose to bring me here!” you exclaimed.

“clearly, i made a mistake.” Simon complained, watching as you walked closer to him.

“why did you bring me here?” you finally asked, folding your arms over your chest and patiently waiting for his answer.

“isn’t it obvious?” he scoffed. you shook your head with an eyebrow raised. what was supposed to be obvious? you waited for him to continue.

“jesus christ. i fucking like you, dumbass.” he emphasized the insult at the end. you rolled your eyes before stopping. it was like everything around you practically did the same thing - stopped.

you stared at him long and hard.

“you’re lying, right?” you hesitated to break the seemingly ever-lasting silence, but what was done is done, and Simon was the one rolling his eyes.

“no, i’m not. are you really this dense?” he was getting mad now.

“well, sure.” you shrugged one shoulder, letting your arms unfold and fall to your sides. he scoffed - which seemed to be his favorite thing to do. it didn’t help how awkward you were.

sure you had been mad at him, but now, thinking back, you could feel the undertones of yearning for his care, and yearning for a relationship. you sighed, looking down to regain your confidence before looking back up.

“if it makes you less mad, i like you too.” you hummed with a sly grin.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests is open!!

#ceciljameswork #fluff #fanfic #simon dia #simon dinner in america #dinner in america #kyle gallner #kyle gallner imagine #imagine #oneshot

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pucksandpower · 1 year ago

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Never Have I Ever

Charles Leclerc x Sainz!Reader

Summary: a game of Never Have I Ever leads to revelations your brother wishes he could forget (and half the grid running for their lives)

“Alright Y/N, it’s your turn!” Lando says, turning to you with an impish grin. “Give us a good one!”

You bite your lip, looking around the circle of F1 drivers sitting cross-legged on the floor of Charles’ palatial hotel suite. It’s a rare night off for everyone during the season, and Charles had suggested a casual get-together for some bonding time. That, of course, led to drinking games, and now here you all are, a few rounds into Never Have I Ever.

“Hmm...” you say slowly, tapping your chin as you think. Your brother, sitting to your left, playfully shoves your shoulder.

“Come on, hermanita! Don’t go easy on us,” he says with a laugh. You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling.

“Okay, okay! Never have I ever … raced in Formula 1,” you declare. A chorus of groans goes up around the circle as everyone except you drinks.

“That was just mean, Y/N!” Lance protests, though his eyes are twinkling with amusement. You grin and give a nonchalant shrug.

“All’s fair in Never Have I Ever!”

The game continues, the questions getting more and more outrageous and personal. Though you’re the only non-driver here, you feel completely comfortable around these guys. You’ve known most of them for years now through your brother, and they welcomed you into the F1 family immediately. It’s fun to sit back and observe their antics and camaraderie.

“Alright, I’ve got one,” Daniel says, leaning forward with an devilish smirk. “Never have I ever … slept with someone on the grid.”

You feel your eyes widen slightly at the implication, but force yourself not to react. Still, you can’t help but notice Fernando slyly taking a sip of his drink out of the corner of your eye. The rest of the drivers turn to look at him in surprise.

“What?” Fernando says with an innocent look. “Have you seen Mark Webber?”

The others burst into laughter at this excuse, the tension effectively diffused. As all eyes stay focused on Fernando, you slowly lift your own glass to your lips and take a subtle sip.

Just as you’re lowering it though, you feel Carlos stiffen next to you. Uh oh. You chance a glance at your brother and immediately regret it at the sight of the shock and anger flashing in his eyes. Before you can say anything, Carlos is on his feet.

“Alright, which one of you was stupid enough to touch my sister?” He demands heatedly.

Instantly, almost comically, Charles, Max, Lando, Pierre, Alex, Oscar, and Logan scramble to their feet and take off running in different directions.

Carlos’ eyes nearly bug out of his head before he takes off after them, yelling Spanish profanities. You sit there stunned for a second before dissolving into laughter. Only Fernando and Daniel remain seated beside you, chuckling and shaking their heads.

“Carlos! Hermano, calm down!” You call after your brother fruitlessly. Still giggling, you turn to Fernando. “I should probably go deal with him before he actually hurts someone, huh?”

“Probably wise,” Fernando says with an amused smile. “Good luck, chica.”

You give him a grateful smile before jumping to your feet and hurrying after Carlos. You find him in the next room, gripping a cowering Lando by the front of his shirt.

“Please don’t kill me!” Lando squeaks out. “It was one time!”

“Carlos, stop!” You cry, rushing over and grabbing your brother’s arm. “Let him go!”

Carlos drops Lando immediately, who scurries away like a frightened mouse. Your brother whirls on you, face still red with anger.

“Y/N, what the hell? You never told me you’ve been with these pendejos!”

You hold up your hands in a calming gesture. “I know, I’m sorry! It just sort of … happened. With everything going on in the paddock, it’s hard to avoid getting close to people. A girl has needs!”

Carlos drags a hand down his face, looking positively murderous. You place a gentle hand on his arm.

“Carlos, listen to me. I’m a grown woman, I can make my own choices. I know you want to protect me, but I’m okay, I promise.”

Your brother’s expression softens slightly as he looks down at you. He pulls you into a tight hug.

“Lo siento, hermanita. I just worry about you, that’s all. The grid is like a family, but still ...”

You hug him back reassuringly. “I know. But you don’t need to go all Spanish Inquisition on them, okay? I can handle myself.”

Carlos sighs but finally relents with a small smile. “Okay, okay. I’ll try to restrain myself from beating them all senseless.”

You laugh. “Much appreciated. Now come on, let’s get back out there and pretend this never happened, yeah?”

Carlos winces slightly but agrees, allowing you to lead him back out to the others. Most have returned to the circle now, shooting your brother wary glances. You give them a reassuring smile as you sit back down, Carlos settling tensely beside you.

“Right!” You say brightly. “Whose turn was it?”

There’s a beat of uncertain silence before Logan clears his throat.

“Uh, I believe it was mine,” he says. “Never have I ever … had a podium finish.”

There’s a communal exhale of relief as the game gets back underway. You catch Carlos’ eye and give him a pointed look, reminding him of his promise. He sighs but gives you a subtle nod and an apologetic smile.

The questions continue on, ranging from silly to risqué, though nothing quite as explosive as before. You’re relieved to see your brother laughing and back to his normal self.

As the night winds down, you’re struck by a feeling of gratitude and affection for this group. Despite the drama and tensions of the season, at the end of the day, you’re all a family.

These guys welcomed you with open arms, and you know Carlos is just looking out for you. You lean against your brother with a contented sigh, smiling around at the drivers joking and chatting happily. No matter what happens on and off the track, you know you’ll always have each other.

***

“Alright everyone, glasses up! We’re doing this again!”

You grin around at the drivers gathered once more, this time to celebrate the one year anniversary of your first Never Have I Ever night together.

“Who’s starting us off this time?” Lando asks, bouncing excitedly in his seat.

“Ooh me, me!” Alex volunteers, raising his hand eagerly. Everyone chuckles.

“Alright Albon, give us a good one,” Lewis encourages.

Alex strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, never have I ever … raced in F1 before 2019.”

A majority of the group drinks at that one. “Trying to knock out us old farts, eh?” Fernando jokes, elbowing Alex.

The questions continue on, each one prompting laughs and cheers among the group. You’re filled with the same warm contentment as last year, smiling around at your dear friends.

About halfway through, you clear your throat. “I’ve got one! Never have I ever … been an uncle.”

Most of the drivers take a drink between smiles and coos about nieces and nephews. You notice Carlos doesn’t drink and turn to him with a playful grin.

“Uh, hermano, I think you forgot to drink for that one,” you say pointedly.

Carlos looks at you in confusion. “What? None of my sisters have kids.”

You simply keep staring at him meaningfully until realization dawns on his face. His eyes go wide, flicking down to your still-full glass of untouched alcohol.

“Y/N … are you ...” he breathes in disbelief.

You nod again. “I’m pregnant.”

For a moment Carlos just stares at you in shock. Then his face starts turning red, hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“You’re pregnant?” He repeats through gritted teeth. The other drivers fall silent, exchanging uneasy glances.

“Who did this to you? Who’s the cabrón who touched my sister again?” Carlos demands, voice rising.

You shrink back slightly, smile fading. Maybe you should have told him privately.

“I … Carlos, please, just calm down,” you say weakly.

But your brother is beyond calming down now. He whips his head around the circle, glaring daggers at each driver.

“Who was it? Who permanently defiled my innocent baby sister?”

You open your mouth uncertainly, not quite sure how to answer. Before you can though, Charles abruptly jumps to his feet.

“WellwouldyalookatthetimeIgottagonowbye!” He blurts out hurriedly before turning and sprinting from the room.

“LECLERC!” Carlos bellows, tearing off after him. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of you at the sight. Some things never change.

The other drivers are cracking up too. “Think we should go make sure Carlos doesn’t actually kill him?” Lando asks with a grin.

You wave a hand dismissively. “Nah, let them work it out. Charles will tire him out eventually.”

Still chuckling, you lean back against the couch next to Fernando, who has an arm draped casually around your shoulders.

“Those two, I swear. Will Carlos ever stop seeing me as his baby sister?” You muse with a smile.

Fernando grins and shakes his head. “Doubtful, chica. But that’s how brothers are. He’s just watching out for you.”

From the other room, you hear a crash followed by yelling in multiple languages. You and Fernando share an amused look.

“At least he didn’t try to fight the whole grid again,” you point out. Fernando barks out a laugh at the memory.

“Give him time. The night is still young,” he says with a playful wink.

You laugh again, cuddling into Fernando’s side. Even with your brother’s antics, you truly feel so lucky to have this group in your life. Friends turned family.

As you hear Carlos’ angry shouts getting closer, followed by Charles’ panicked apologizing, you think to yourself that there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

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iwaoiness · 10 months ago

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In the Argentine volleyball team, arriving late for training comes with the Blanco's famous penalty of thirty-three laps around the block, and captain Javier's fifteen-minute reprimand. Oikawa has only been late on rare occasions, yet even his most charming flutter of eyelashes couldn't exempt him from the punishment. He endured it, unfortunately accompanied by the teasing of Matias and Bruno—those two, inexplicably, are the only ones who are punctual alongside the captain.

However, that day, when Oikawa arrives ten minutes late at one of the Olympic Village gymnasiums, almost out of breath, his hair disheveled and still wet from the quickest shower he has had in his thirty years, he doesn't hear Javier's ché, boludo tardón that always starts his reprimands, nor does he hear Blanco loudly instructing Tomás to get ready with the stopwatch and the punishment sheet.

That day, everyone stares at him with wide, blinking eyes. The ball Bruno was holding slips from his grasp, the sound of its bounce being the only thing breaking the sepulchral silence.

Oikawa frowns, tilting his head slightly.

"What?"

"Hermano," Matias arches an eyebrow with genuine curiosity, though his eyes sparkle with amusement, putting Oikawa on high alert "since when do you play for the Japanese national team?"

This further confuses Tooru, who blinks.

"The hell are you talking about, boludo?"

The libero points to his shirt and Oikawa looks down.

Oh.

He's not wearing his favorite blue training shirt, but a slightly baggy black one at his shoulders, with the Japanese flag stitched on it at his heart.

And then he remembers this morning. How they woke up late, almost stumbling because neither of the two damn alarms went off. How they rushed to the shower, too small for two tall and strong adults. How Tooru had a fit of giggles when Hajime mistook the cherry lube for his after-shave lotion. How they quickly got dressed in the first things they grabbed, barely glancing at their clothes, before kissing, wishing each other a good day, and running off to their respective teams.

Oh, la concha de la lora.

Oikawa's eyes widen comically, and he ignores the tug on his neck as he quickly raises his head. Feeling the heat boiling on his face, he now meets the playful gazes of his teammates—even Blanco coughs to hide his smile.

"This has a completely logical explanation!" he stammers, glaring at Matias as his devilish grin widens.

"Really? And that logic is tall, dark skinned, and part of Japan's technical team, Toto?"

But when Tooru, his face now completely red, opens his mouth to protest, a solid knocks on the door interrupts.

Everyone turns to look, and Oikawa sees Iwa-chan standing in the doorway, just as embarrassed—if not more so—than him. Instead of his regulation black shirt, he’s wearing Oikawa's blue one, tight around his torso, with the Argentine flag in the center.

"Sorry to interrupt," he apologizes with his accented Spanish. "Can I borrow Tooru for a second?"

"All yours, Hajime!" Bruno chimes in, nudging Tooru forward playfully, sticking his tongue out as the setter glares daggers at him.

"But don't keep him out too long. The penalty waits him" José Blanco requests, widening his smile as Hajime nods firmly before taking Tooru's hand and pulling him outside, ignoring his childish protest.

...

i love them with my whole heart

u can find me on my ao3 🍉

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a-major-love · 20 days ago

Text

Stranger In The Night

Pairing - Maestro x Fem!Reader

Summary - Every Halloween, it was tradition in Normal Valley to break into the ole abandoned manor up on the hill. Unfortunately, it was now your turn to follow through.

Word Count - 2.8k

Warnings - no use of y/n, fem pronouns, semi proofread, use of og characters, readers friends suck, old spooky manor vibes, swearing, mentions of panic/anxiety, comfort

A/N - This was requested. (sorry for the long wait everybody!)

Howls of laughter rose above the wind, as your friends zigzagged between the trees. The moon’s silver light shined through the low lying branches, illuminating on their ghoulish Halloween masks. You peered through the dense tree line, clumsily trailing after them as the smell of decaying leaves, and damp soil invaded your nostrils. Up ahead, a single dim flashlight pierced through the pervasive blackness of the woods. You grunted, as you maneuvered your way through the unsteady terrain.

“We’ve been walking forever,” you whined, as you caught up to the light’s source. Before you stood Stephanie, who lived a few doors down from you at the shabby apartment complex you resided in. Her long, ocean blue hair framed the sides of her mask, that was twisted into a grotesque smile and dawned a comically large clown nose.

“It’s only been fifteen minutes,” she said, her voice muffled by the mask.

Suddenly, a strong pair of hands descended upon your shoulder, startling you. You shrieked, and whipped around to find a pair of black holes for eyes shining at you. Damien clutched his stomach as he doubled over with laughter. The Dracula inspired mask he wore remained emotionless, despite the sounds of glee coming from him. Stephanie soon joined in, failing to conceal her own giddiness.

You sighed. “Are you two done?”

Damien eventually straightened up, wiping an invisible tear from his eye. “Looks like Red Riding Hood is scared of the dark,” he jested, reaching out to the toy with the edge of your cloak.

You slapped his hand back, feeling frustration bubble up the longer you stared at his stupid mask. God, why did you even agree to come out here in the first place?

‘So I didn’t spend another Halloween alone.’

You snorted at the thought as you glanced over your company for the evening. Perhaps you should have stayed home, and just watched Elvira re-runs.

“Come on, it’s just a little further.” Stephanie urged, continuing her trek forward. Damien fell in line beside her, briefly lifting his mask to press a chaste kiss to her temple.

Begrudgingly, you followed after them, feeling the night press against your back the further you walked. The woods presence cocooned you, buzzing around your cloaked form. A sudden gust of wind rustled the branches above, the sound almost deafening.

“Where are we going?” you eventually asked. Stephanie glanced back, her eyes glinting behind the mask's eye sockets. You could already picture the slow grin of amusement most likely spreading across her face.

Damien swiftly turned, and began walking backwards, as if he were already familiar with the trail.

“You’ve never heard the story?” he questioned, tilting his head, as if genuinely surprised.

You raised a brow, shaking your head.

Damien came to a sudden halt. “How do you not know? Everyone in Normal Valley has heard about the murders.”

You stopped, feeling a cool chill like water run down your spine.

“Murders?” you croaked.

Damien eagerly nodded. “Apparently – like 50 years ago – a man moved to Normal Valley, into the manor above the hill. One day, while out in town, he met a beautiful woman named Marianna, and fell in love with her at first glance. Problem is, the woman was already married to the mayor of Normal Valley.” He began walking again, his words pulling you forward.

“So… what did he do?” you carefully asked.

“Marianna was deeply unhappy in her marriage,” Stephanie continued. “So the two began an affair, behind the mayor’s back. He was the sweetest lover she had ever known, constantly doted on her and showered her with affection, in private of course.”

“But, their secret didn’t last long,” Damien interrupted, linking his arm with Stephanie’s. “The mayor found out about their little rendezvous, and was righteously pissed. He stormed over to the manor, with his poor wife trailing after him, and vowed to kill the man if he didn’t leave town immediately.”

“Jesus…” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself. You warily glanced up at the trees, as if the branches were threatening to descend upon your shaking form.

“That poor Marianna,” Stephanie pouted, shaking her head. “Whilst trying to ease the tension, she wound up caught in the crossfire between the two men, and met her untimely demise. The man was so distraught that he murdered the mayor in a blind rage.”

Something rustled a nearby bush, causing you to flinch. You nervously chuckled, and pressed your hand to your chest, as if it might quell the thudding of your heart.

“So what happened to him?”

“He killed himself,” Damien plainly stated. “A few days after the incident, he took a piece of rope and hung himself from the chandelier.”

“Now his soul remains trapped inside the manor,” Stephanie concluded. “Forever searching for his poor beau.”

“That’s just a silly story you made up,” you accused.

“Is that so?” Stephanie mused, looking back at you.

You scoffed. “Ghosts aren’t real, Steph.”

She came to a halt, shining her flashlight against a black, iron fence that had suddenly blocked the path forward.

“Maybe it’s time we test that theory of yours, Red.” She stepped aside, and beckoned you forward.

The fence towered over you as you cautiously approached it. You gulped, and peered in-between the gaps of the fence. In the distance, you could make out a sprawling dead garden that covered the grounds. There were a few seemingly intricate carved statues shrouded in vines, their beauty concealed by nature. Beyond that stood the mansion, looming over the woods like a beast's shadow. You squinted, struggling to make out its rough exterior from a distance.

“Ladies first,” Damien said, pointing upwards.

“I’m not going in there!”

Stephanie groaned, throwing her head back in impatience. She lifted her mask up, a deep scowl already embedded on her face.

“It’s a Halloween tradition,” she stated, stalking toward you. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a dusty, old house.”

“B-but the story –

“You’re so gullible,” Stephanie muttered, shaking her head. She fixed her mask – though it did little to conceal her cold glare – and approached the fence. “Damien, and I will go, and you can wait for us here.”

Your face burned as you awkwardly shifted on your feet. You debated staying put, until something small scurried past your ankle.

You caved. “Fine! Just give me a boost.”

Damien pressed his back against the fence, and linked his fingers together. You placed your sneaker in his palms, clumsily pushing your weight up his body as you grasped onto the iron fence. You were wary of the sharp points, but you eventually managed to swing your body over and drop off onto the other side.

“Okay, now it’s your tu–

“Quiet,” Stephanie hissed, whipping around to stare out into the woods.

A beat passed.

“What is it?” Damien asked.

“I think I saw a cop car drive by,” she said. “Shit, we need to go now.”

“Hey – wait! Help me back over.” You scrambled toward the bars, your heart thudding at the thought of them leaving without you.

“We’ll be arrested if they catch us here,” Stephanie explained, grabbing onto Damien's’ arm. The two ran off, throwing one last glance over their shoulder at you.

You gripped onto the iron bars, struggling to hoist your body up the fence, but your shoe kept sliding against the smooth surface.

“Damnit, come back!” you shouted, watching as the night eventually swallowed their retreating figures.

A sudden gust of wind blew against your back, as if the woods were aware. The hum of the surrounding insects crept into your head. You slowly turned, wrapping the thin cloak around yourself. Before you laid the garden, and its watchful statues that towered over your shaking frame. The house sat silently – on a slight incline – patiently awaiting your next move.

With no other option, you drew a deep breath and began your trek toward the house.

After all, that’s all it was.

You approached one of the many statues, gazing up at the woman's long slender frame. A strange melancholic feeling washed over you, clouding your mind as if these emotions were your own. A dove sat in her outstretched palm, as if it was about to take flight. The other arm – tucked into her side – was severely damaged as an entire chunk was missing. You stood there, silent in your grief, frowning up at the woman. With a heavy sigh you moved on, simultaneously feeling the weight of sorrow lift from your shoulders.

The stone path led to a set of cracked steps, littered with dried leaves that crunched beneath your feet. You approached a balcony door, with arched windows on either side and squinted against the cloudy glass for a glimpse of the interior. The only thing you could make out was that the space was vast, and too large to be a simple living room.

The sound of a branch snapped in the distance. You whirled around, eyes sweeping over the expansive garden… but there was nothing.

“Get a grip, girl,” you whispered, balling your fists. You turned to face the balcony door, only to find it slightly ajar. A nervous giggle escaped your lips as you gripped onto the edges of your cloak.

“This is stupid,” you told yourself, cautiously stepping forward. “What I am doing is stupid.”

You peeked into the room from behind the door, only to gasp in awe. Moonlight streamed into the apparent ballroom, silver light revealing its rather lavish nature. A few, dusty couches sat at the far left, surrounding an elaborate looking fireplace. You stepped inside, gawking at the sheer size. Two crystal chandeliers gently swayed above the tiled, black and white diamond floor. Across from you was an arch that led to an abysmally dark hallway, as if it were a black hole waiting to swallow you.

You shuddered, tearing your eyes away from it. A painting hung on the wall beside it, in an ornate frame. Well groomed figures danced across the very same diamond floor, their faces nothing but a blur. The women’s gowns were dull, however, due to the poor lighting.

“Wow,” you whispered, slowly spinning as you took in the space.

A snicker came from just over your shoulder, as if it were in your ear. You gasped, whipping around, to find the room empty.

“H-hello?” you called out, drawing into yourself.

A woman’s giggle suddenly echoed around the room, coming from nowhere and everyone all at once. Then, a chorus of voices joined in, their laughter swelling until it felt as if it were coming from inside your head. Their taunts came in a frenzy of whispers, brushing against the shell of your ear like a horrid lover.

“Stop it!” you cried, stumbling backwards. You covered your ears, pressing so hard that pressure began to build in your head. The voices did not cease, even as you crouched down, broken pleas falling from your lips.

“Please,” you whimpered, shutting your eyes.

A hollow crack – like thunder – rose above the voices, immediately silencing them. You kept your eyes closed, muttering vague prayers to yourself – as if they would help.

“God, I'll be so good,” you whispered. “I’ll be so good, if you let me survive this.”

“Miss, are you alright?”

Your eyes snapped open, as you peered up from your position, to find a pair of oak eyes staring down at you in concern.

“I apologize for my friends,” he explained, sheepishly smiling. “They become a bit excitable when we have an unexpected guest.”

You gaped up at the man, tracing over his soft, angled features. Silky, black hair framed his pale face, just slightly hanging over his shoulders. A bright, infectious smile had bloomed across his pink lip, providing a curious sense of comfort. His outfit was rather simple, consisting of a white, billowy shirt and black slacks. The man’s warm eyes never left your face, and seemed intrigued by your silence.

You cleared your throat. “Yes, I’m fine.” The man hummed. “Well, I hope my mischievous friends didn’t frighten you too badly.”

“Your friends?”

A thought passed over the man's face, before he chuckled to himself. “I’m sorry, it’s been a terribly long time. Where are my manners?” He kindly offered you his hand, to which you took, and slowly stood up. His skin felt like porcelain, abnormally smooth and cold.

“My name is Maestro,” he introduced. “I reside here, along with the others.”

“I thought this house was abandoned,” you mentioned, puzzled by his words.

“What do you know of this place, exactly?”

“That the previous owner had an affair with the mayor's wife,” you explained, “and when the mayor found out, he confronted the owner but things didn’t end…well.”

Maestro chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “So that's the tale kids are telling these days.”

“These days?”

“That’s not the first iteration I’ve heard,” he said, meandering over to the balcony door. He glanced over at you, soft smiling as if recalling a memory. “Numerous tales, involving tragedy and misfortune, have followed this house for decades. Fabricated by the townspeople to draw others away, but it seems to have had the opposite effect.”

“Are any of them true?” you asked, approaching him.

“Depends,” he mused, eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Tragedy follows everyone, doesn't it? Who’s to say those stories didn’t hold some twisted form of the truth, for the others at least.”

You quirked a brow at his vague answer, but decided not to push the subject.

“The way you talk is odd,” you mentioned, feeling around for the proper words.

Maestro craned his head to look at you, a suspected smile blooming across his face.

“You speak as if you’re… dead.”

He hummed, dark eyes gleaming at your words. The longer you stared, the more you saw that nothing sinister laid in wait behind those eyes. In fact, they were playful, as if you had discovered some secret.

“Is that so?”

You gasped at the feeling of frigid fingertips brushing against the nape of your neck. Turning around resulted in the same outcome as before, nothing aside from the peeling wallpaper.

“You’re just messing with me,” you accused, facing Maestro. He had crossed his arms, silently amused by your alarmed expression.

“You don't believe in ghosts, miss?”

You opened your mouth, prepared to answer but faltered. It was almost unnoticeable, the way the silver moonlight beamed on Maestro’s pale face. Yet you could see the way it pierced through his skin, illuminating him from the inside out. Maestro seemed to fade in and out of existence, causing him to appear nearly translucent. Your hands shook, your brain rattling around for some form of explanation.

A clock rang out around the house, echoing through the vacant halls. You were snapped out of your trance, rapidly blinking until Maestro looked as if he were flesh and bone again.

“It’s super late,” you said, “so I should probably be on my way now.”

Maestro must have sensed your unease, as he quietly nodded. He approached you, jutting out his arm for you to grab.

“Perhaps you would prefer to leave through the front door,” he suggested. You gulped, and carefully entangled your arm with his. Somehow, you could feel him, but there was something…missing.

Warmth, you thought. The heat provided by another person isn’t there.

Maestro guided you to the front entrance, where a large intricately carved door stood.

“Hopefully your holiday didn’t feel like such a waste.” “Strangely…no,” you said, gazing over at him. “To be honest, this was probably the most eventful Halloween I’ve had in a long time.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Maestro unlinked his arm from yours, and opened the front door.

“I was half expecting it to open on its own,” you joked, feeling the tension slowly leave your shoulders.

“Maybe next time it will,” he said, winking at you.

“Next time, huh.”

He smiled, as if the morning sun had splashed over him. “If you are interested, of course.”

You glanced around, at the dusty floorboards and patterned wallpaper. A long, weary history sat inside this house, eager to share its life and story with someone.

You looked back at Maestro, and offered him a smile of your own.

“I would love to.”

He gently took your hand, and gave a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll be awaiting your return, miss.”

Heat creeped up your neck, as you stepped out the door. The night seemed just as abrasive as before, as if it too had waited for you. You carefully walked down the steps, cringing as they groaned beneath your wait. When you were halfway down the driveway, something compelled you to look back. A faint figure stood by one of the top floor windows, watching in amusement.

What a strange house.

#michael jackson #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson imagine #maestro #maestro x reader

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solar4seekstron · 4 months ago

Text

Transformers 2007 - Chapter One: Beginnings

Indie Bayverse Transformers Series - Creator: Solar Seeks

Introduction Movies Masterlist

Introduction, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six

Content: 18+, basically a battle and interactions to get to know the characters a little more.

TW/Tags: 3rd POV (1st POV wouldn’t work here sorry), Altair is a placeholder for Y/N, This story is self-insert, Multiple deaths, Decapitation, Swearing, Jealous Elita in background, Angry Prowl, Optimus and Altair have a pretty happy relationship.

Notes: Originally the first chapter was going to be all the way to where Sam and Mikaela are taken and the bots will come to save them. The story ending on bee getting captured. OP and Reader having a small argument because reasons. More on that in the next chapter. But I decided that I need to write the story to start off with reader Altair and key points. Like their relationship with everyone and the lead up to arriving to earth.

The second is because I was redoing some lore reading. In the comics Megatron is the one to take Bees voice box. And so in the first chapter he has already lost his voice box. I do plan on doing a flashback to better fletch out the situation and event from the comics in possibly later chapters if it fits since I just learned this.

Third I’ll probably do a rewrite at some point and add a little more once I rewatch the other movies and after I finish the 2nd chapter if I realize I must add more.

Editor: @midnightbears

Chapter One: Beginnings

Location: Unknown Planet - Situation: Battle Between Autobot and Decepticon

It was a full-on Battle. And it was messy. The Decepticons at large as they yelled in almost joy. The planet is windy and full of dirt.

A mission set for the Autobot to find energon gone wrong. The battle is mostly surprising when the skilled shooter Chromia is almost shot by one of the Decepticons.

Who at first was a lot closer to the Decepticons during the fight. Other bigger bots making their way over to help her out.

Crosshiars jumped over a rock, using his cervo and arm to pull his waist up before landing next to her.

Speaking to her while he gets his sniper gun ready. Both kneeling and yelling.

“How many did you counter?” Crosshiars asked. Avoiding a shot that only hit the rock by the side. Chromia then responded. “So far ten. But it seems that more might come!”

Crosshairs peaked a little over the rock before returning to looking at Chromia.

They then heard very large engines and looked toward where the ship was. Ironhide, Prowl, and Jazz soon showing up. Transformering mid-air, joining the fight.

The Decepticons slowly move in circles around them. Jazz led them out of the center.

Trying to find any way to get out of there with the others. But that was starting to prove difficult. The Decepticons there proving to be a little stronger.

Jazz then tries to speak through the comm as his back presses harshly against a large rock bigger than him. One cervo holding his gun while the other digit presses into his comm.

Prowl is on his left while Chromia stays on his right.

“This is First Lieutenant Jazz! We are under attack and need help! Reporting to Autobot base for immediate backup!”

He yelled but the comms weren’t going through Ironhide brought out one of his larger guns and started shooting almost like a madman left and right. Walking forward.

Crosshairs getting behind him as a shield.

Jazz gets upset trying to figure out what’s happening with the signal.

But then he got a comm by another bot. Jazz answering. “Where are you we need help! And have you tried the comms for the base? I can’t reach Optimus!“ he closes the call.

But he soon gets another one by a different comm. Another bot spoke with a strong yet soft voice.

A cybertronian car is making its way closer to the others. Then spoke once more to Jazz through the comm. “The Decepticon Cyclonus cut signals on this planet. He’s been dealt with. I’m the backup now. See you soon jazz.”

The comm closes. Jazz then turned his helm to the side and peaked above the rock to see the Decepticons hiding behind other larger rocks and trees.

The wind is harsh while Chromia and Prowl remain by his side. Ironhide hid behind a large tree and a few rocks, reloading his weapon.

Crosshairs is a lot closer and further than the others and can get a better shot at the Decepticons. Like hitting their shoulder and even getting a few headshots earlier.

He had a huge grin on his dermas the entire time.

As the others continue they soon hear the sound of a car speeding.

Jazz, Prowl, and Ironhide are the ones to turn their helms toward the sound. Soon they saw the car drive up on a larger rock next to the ship.

The car flies and then transforms into a certain bot.

Altair soon appeared in the air with their face plate fully covered by their visors and mouth guard. Anyone who knew them like Ironhide, Crosshairs, and Jazz knows that they’re smiling under that mask.

While in midair, they then pull out two purple guns. All in a fast motion, they point the two guns down and start shooting at the Decepticons below.

Able to get four of them.

Jazz and Chromia cheered while Prowl just scowled under his visors. A frown on his dermas. Chromia and the others were too busy with the shooting.

Once they hit the floor flawlessly once on their legs, Altiar rolled forward smoothly with the guns and started shooting at the others more and more.

Doubledealer noticed them to be Cyclonus. Soon yelling.

“You Autobot scum!!! You killed Cyclonus didn’t you!!!!” In a fit of rage, he started to shoot like an idiot, leaving himself open.

Crosshairs getting a headshot. Covering for Altair as they continue.

Altair started to run further and further into the battle. Being a pretty big bot they’re able to easily take on many of the larger bots who were bigger than Ironhide.

One of the snipers on the Decepticon's side was able to get a good hit on the shoulder.

When the ammo soon ran out. They throw them to the side and then soon pull out their swords. Hiding behind a large rock a few feet ahead of Ironhide.

Who looked over at them from behind.

Altair peaking just a little past the rock to see how many Decepticons are there.

Jazz then spoke through the comms. Unable to speak to Prowl and Chromia even when they’re next to him thanks to the noise of guns and wind. “We move forward!”

They and Ironhide look at each other before nodding.

The four of them move. From their current hiding spot make their way closer to where Crosshairs and Altair are. Able to easily avoid the shootings as they make it to larger trees.

Kneeling and hiding just behind Crosshairs. Altair stayed close to the ground and sneaked closer to one of the Decepticons.

Jazz continues to get closer to Chromia and Prowl.

But a grenade was able to cause them to scatter once it landed in front of Jazz. Getting around more than just in the middle of the field.

When Prowl got behind Ironhide with a tree. Ironhide shooting again.

Prowl would then get a comm call. Seeing it’s not from the base. Prowl answers expecting it to be someone searching for them on another planet or is from the Autobot base.

“This is Officer Prowl of the Autobot cause. This better be our backup!”

He said in a strict and commanding tone.

Only to get more upset when he hears a certain gun specialist bot on the other side.

“Nope! But if you give me the permission I need I can come right in then I’ll save y’all without a second thought!”

Prowl then rolled his optics and responded while his back remained against a large tree.

“Hound we need you to get back to base. We can’t reach it and it’s too dangerous without more. Your team won’t be able to help stand against what we’re dealing with. We need better backup!”

“Well, I’m better backup! Hell, I’m a great backup! I-“

Prowl interrupts him once more. Being almost shot by the side of his helm. The shooting only hit the side of the tree. Then speaking once more when he glanced at the mark on the tree.

Then out of nowhere, a full-on blast of guns started to fire.

“Just go get the backup we need!!!!”

He then hangs up. Peaking by the side seeing Ironhide returning to shooting once more. Prowl groaned and loaded his police gun. Sighing before he peaks over next to the tree once more.

Seeing Jazz jump over a rock and shoot another Decepticon.

Altair was close by decapitating one and kicking another away. Soon getting into another sword battle with a different person.

Jazz then transforms to drive closer. Shooting one of the Decepticons that was behind a small boulder. Then staying down on the other side of the boulder once the other Decepticons start shooting at him.

Reloading his minigun and getting his blaster ready.

Until. ”Ring, Ring, Ring” Jazz a little confused answers the call after turning his blaster back into his cervo then answers. “Optimu-“

”Jazz! Where’s your location I can come to you guys as backup!” Jazz then responded. “No- damn it Hound! Go back to the base and tell them we’re outnumbered. You need to-“

Jazz is then tackled to the side by Chromia right as he’s about to be hit with another grenade.

Jazz then helped her up and the two hid behind a couple of trees together. Jazz kneeled to shield Chromia while she kept shooting. Jazz then responded to the comm.

”Hound this is an order. Go to the base and try to get us back up! Besides you’re not even supposed to be on another planet! You need to leave to get help! You’ll have your chance another time! Now go to the base! That’s an order!!!”

He ends the call. Hound stood there on another planet a good million miles away with a few other Autobots who were just wandering around.

Altair and Ironhide then start to head deeper into the battlefield killing as many cons as they can but the two also notice that these are. The Decepticon's weakest cons. Something is up.

Ironhide and Altair then looked at each other until Altair got a call through the comm.

Altair and Ironhide continue to run to the other Decepticons with the others behind them. Altair answered it. Soon hearing Hound's voice on the other side.

”Altair! Tell that stuck-up Prowl and Lieutenant Jazz to let me join you guys. I’m a great back up and with me, you, and Ironhide on the team. Those scums don’t stand a chance!”

Altair listens to him while still fighting in a sword battle.

Being able to win then hides behind a rock and tree. A second later a Decepticon came to. Try to catch them off guard next to the rock but Altair was faster.

Altair then currently strangling the Decepticon Razorclaw with one arm as they keep listening to Hounds little rant. Razorclaw was having a hard time trying to save himself while Altair was trying to avoid being shot at by the other Decepticons.

Altair then finally responded as they placed their other cervo to their helm. Showing they’re thinking ‘Is he for real right now?’.

“Sorry Hound, but shouldn’t you be with the others back at the base? I mean you were given orders.”

Hound then responded once more.

“Come on I’m a great back up and you still owe me for that kill count. I still want that redraw!”

While he spoke Altair has then grabbed the side of Razorclaws helm tightly. Then twisting his helm in the other direction breaking his neck completely in a fast snap.

Then ripping it off and kicking the body away. Turning back to the other Decepticons once he was finished with a scowel.

Ironhide continues to shoot without much worry while the others keep up with trying to shoot other cons.

While Hound responded, Altair jumped to another tree before being almost shot. Still holding Razorclaws helm before sticking a grenade in it then starts running toward the larger Decepticon there.

Ironhide joining them.

“Yeah, but I have a job to disarm bombs for other teams. So Optimus sent me and now that I hear in a cut-off call to base by Jazz. This can be a good excuse to start killing people!”

Ironhide then joins the call. Having hit a bot with the back of his gun and then shot them.

Altair has thrown the head into one of the larger bots' cervos. Getting killed by the explosion. Altiar then jumps through the explosion with both swords at hand.

Then landing and starts a sword battle against Fang. Ironhide is only a few feet from them as the others join in.

He joined the comm and started to speak to Hound in a tone that was almost calming and cheerful showing they’re both old friends. ”Hound you are a trained soldier! Just do as the others tell ya. Ya know you can’t change Jazz's mind. Well- Unless you’re Prime or Altair.”

Altair then chuckled with a response. M

“Oh please it’s Prowl you gotta deal with when it comes to changing your damn plans. And besides, we’re handling this pretty well! Wouldn’t ya say? Hide!”

They say with a cheer while Ironhide chuckles.

Jazz, Chromia, Prowl, and Crosshairs soon joined around them like a true team. Altair then kills Fang with a stab. Twisting their blade causing his blood to splatter on them.

They then respond with a casual tone while his frame falls back.

“Look Hound you’ll have your chance next time. But for now, just do as the boss says. Which is Jazz.” They finished, their voice almost tired but calm at the end.

They then got into another sword battle with Menasor. Fighting the larger bot as they spoke. Ironhide then finished the conversation while Hound and Altair just listened.

“Don’t worry Hound. You’ll be kicking head before ya know it! Oh, and you better not have eaten my snack back at base!”

The call then ended between the three, with Hound groaning and getting fussy. The Autobots around him getting their ship ready to leave. He reluctantly walked over for them to leave.

Altair and the others continue to shoot and kill as many Decepticons as they can.

Altair then noticed that some of the bots were retreating after they saw them and Jazz. Calcar then gets an upper cervo on Altair.

The two fall down a small hill as he gets a few good punches at Altiar.

The others scream their name but are slowly overwhelmed by more Decepticons. At one point though, Crosshairs and Jazz start killing the bigger bots by getting on them.

Chromia and Prowl stick next to each other while shooting at grenades that the Decepticons try to throw at them.

In the background, Ironhide helps out Jazz with gutting one of the larger bots with his bare cervo.

Altair meanwhile was trying to block punches from Calcar but he was a strong bot and also much younger.

The two bots got into a fistfight while he yelled how he tried to become a knight before the war. Only to realize the knights are the the to abandon their duty like many others. Including Altair.

“I looked up to you as a sparkling! You and Orion Pax but you guys could care less about us poor folks. Tonight. I will give you the gift of joining pri-“

Altair then was able to get the upper hand and turn him over. Being on top now and getting a few good blows at him. He tries to keep speaking but at one point his helm is shot clean off.

His blood splattered onto their face plate. Well, their face mask anyway.

They then stood up. Wiping the blood off their visors then turning their frame towards to Crosshairs. They then nodded to him.

A form of thanks as he then kneeled to them.

The other out to them to help them up. They then took it and got back up with him and the others. Shooting still going on.

They then made their way to the others. Crosshairs and Altair then yell in triumph as they run into battle. Altair can get a good hand at one of the larger bots. Chromia taking in the smaller ones, covering for Jazz.

Prowl continued to run faster and faster into the battlefield. He always seemed annoyed with how Altair fought so casually.

Trying to find a way to give them orders but couldn’t think of anything. The others not paying much while Crosshairs just focused on covering for the others.

At some point, Prowl and Altair's backs were against each other and fighting alongside each other.

Covering for each other while a few Decepticons got closer. Prowl then spoke while Altair continued to slash them with their sword. Prowl doing the shooting.

At one point Prowl shot a cons helm.

Between Altiar and their cervo when they tried to wipe the blood off them.

Altair then stabbed through one of the bots their same size who was behind Prowl after he took the shot. Prowl and Altair watched the con fall back before the two looked at each other.

Altair stared down at him while Prowl looked up at them.

Both with opposite expressions the other can’t see. Prowl with a frown while he couldn’t see. They were smiling. He then spoke in an angry tone.

“I had him.”

”Sure you did boss bot. And what would you have done if you did deal with him?”

They responded casually. Prowl was about to scold them until Altair noticed a bot about to shoot Prowl while lying on the ground from behind.

Altair then placed their arm around him while kneeling for a moment before turning around with prowl against their chest.

Bracing for the impact to be shot.

That’s until they both heard the shots but when Altair released they weren’t shot.

They slowly turned their helm, Prowl peaking over their shoulder to see who it is. They then see that it’s Ironhide who used his large gun to block the shot.

Chromia is the one to shoot the Decepticon in the helm. Just as they notice more Decepticons coming their way from afar.

Altair standing straight no longer holding Prowl. Who just looked at Jazz and Chromia. Still next to them.

Ironhide next to the. Crosshairs casually makes his way next to Ironhide while holding his sniper gun and letting it lean against his shoulder.

Chromia standing in front of Ironhide just a few feet ahead and Jazz standing next to her while looking at his arm.

He then groaned in frustration while his fingers kept tapping at a screen hologram showing on his arm. This causes the others to look at him. Jazz then spoke as he kept pressing buttons.

”I just can’t reach base. We will just have to return with what we have and return to the base. And pray to Primus that we find more energon for at least another planet after. These damn Decepticons just keep appearing on each planet we go to!”

As he spoke Crosshairs checked the amount of bullets in his sniper. Ironhide rested his large gun against his shoulder while he spoke. Chromia just looked at him.

Altair checks out their swords seeing how bloody they are while Prowl, while not obvious under his visors.

He side-opticing Altiar while they didn’t seem to pay him much mind.

Ironhide then responded. Causing the other optics to be on him now. “I hate to say it. But the best thing we can just do now is retreat. We can’t keep fighting against these bots like this. A damn hour has already passed. Hound probably got stuck or something.”

Altair and Chromia nodded in agreement. Crosshairs didn’t seem too interested in what he was saying.

Prowl just crossed his arms and thought. But seemed way more annoyed than worried. Altair then looks at Jazz before speaking.

Speaking before Prowl even has a chance to speak. So he looked at them angrily while they spoke.

“Ironhide is right. There might not be a lot but we can still survive with what we got. With any luck the other Autobots were able to find even more. Better chances than us. So, let's return before these Decepticons get any closer. Alright?”

They looked at everyone else. Who just sighed. Then out of nowhere, a grenade called their attention.

Realizing even more Decepticons are coming. All of them turned their helms toward the explosion. It happening a few feet away behind Altair and Prowl.

And so Jazz sighed and held the bridge of his visors. The others looked back at him.

Then raising his cervo before pointing at the ship on the way back. “Alright, alright, Full retreat team. Let’s go.”

Crosshairs then sighed. His helm leaned back before turning around while walking next to Ironhide. Who turned around while putting his large gun back to be behind his back.

Chromia starts moving forward with her pedes turning into wheels.

Prowl puts his guns away while Altair spins their swords for a good moment then flawlessly puts them back into their sword handles.

They all make their way to the ship. Soon transform and drive alongside together while the yells of the Decepticons can be faintly heard in the background.

Altair passed Prowl who was a bit slower than everyone.

All making it to the ship and getting on board right away. Everyone gets into place on the small ship. Jazz and the others run into the main room to control the ship.

Jazz gets into the captain's chair while the others go to the others' seats getting the engine started. The ship is hit a little by a grenade as the Decepticons get closer.

Crosshairs then spun to face Jazz and put his cervos together as he pleaded. “Oh please, please let me shoot them!”

Jazz just sighed. His helm made a full circle motion.

Going up and then down to face the side before waving his cervo. “Might as well. Means killing more while in the process.”

Crosshairs then yells a Yes while Ironhide and Chromia are heard chuckling. Altair focuses on the ship balancing as it rises. Prowl doing the same and groaning in annoyance.

Crosshairs soon have the weapons of the ship ready and start shooting at the Decepticons below. The many cons soon ran for their lives like a bunch of little ants.

As the ship continues to rise. Crosshairs wasn’t holding back anytime soon. Even laughing like a madman.

Everyone else casually doing their job on the ship while Jazz continues to give orders.

Eventually, the ship is high enough to start going into space. Crosshairs soon get sad and fussy when he can’t shoot any more Decepticons.

Jazz then puts in the location for the Autobot base while also putting the ship on autopilot. He leans back and tries to relax in his captain's chair.

The others leaned back a bit in their chairs and stretched their arms and legs.

Prowl would just lean back a little as he watches forward. Being in the middle of everyone else’s chairs.

Ironhide then looks forward into space before getting to work on his gun that was shot. Chromia doing the same with her weapon.

Jazz remained neutral before leaning to the side.

Resting the side of his helm against his cervo. He’s tired. Anyone can tell that. He then glanced at the others. Looking down, seeing they’re doing their own thing.

Crosshairs just staring off into space.

His optics soon sets on Altair. Who just sat there for a moment before looking at their reflection through the window of the ship.

They are the most covered in blood. But doesn’t seem too bothered. The Six of them watched as they got closer and closer to the base. It only takes a few more minutes to get to them.

Everyone soon had a warm smile and looked at each other. Altair and Jazz keeping their visors and masks on.

Their frame is still as they watch the main Autobot base ship get closer and closer.

———————————————————————————-

Location: Autobot Base Ship - Status: Expanded

The ship holding Jazz and the team soon fly into the main ship base while other bots walk around. The ship then landed deep into the larger ship.

Jazz and the others start walking out the door for the entrance of the ship.

Jazz took the lead while the others walked behind him.

The other bots pay their respects to him as they pass by. Jazz made his way to the ship's main control room.

As they walked the bots who’d pass by would both nod their head in respect toward them. While a few of them did it to the five of them others fully six.

The others who didn’t only at times gave Altair more uncertain looks. While the bots that look much older still paid their respects.

Once inside the base and heading through the halls of the ship. Bots pass by to nod their helms. Jazz then spoke.

“Alright bots, you know the drill. I’ll speak to Optimus and you all give in your info one by one. I’ll let Prime know it was a semi-success but at least we got enough energon to last another three weeks. Understood?”

The five then responded. “Yes, Lieutenant Jazz.”

They all continued. Getting closer and closer. Chromia can feel her exhaustion finally catching up with her.

Ironhide let out a huff of air as he felt his lower back start to ache. Crosshiars felt his legs and arms slowly feeling sore. Though he tried to ignore it.

Prowl was just ignoring the mild scrapes on his shoulder and arm.

As for Altair. Still mostly covered in blood and only a couple of scrapes on their arm and waist. Being the dirtiest out of them all. While not anxious.

They do feel their self get worried and curious at the same time.

As will be shown why now.

Jazz then pressed the buttons to open the door. Looking down at the passcode, pressing so casually.

Once the door opened, they all then walked in. They’re met with silence at first but while they walked many bots waved hello to them.

Saying such words as Welcome back or How was the mission?

Once they got closer, the view of Optimus Prime was seen in his seat as the captain of the ship. Elita was next to him as she appeared to be speaking.

Optimus has his mouth guard on and his optics focused. He was looking over data and seemed to be typing in it. That’s until he notices them all.

He then gave Elita the data pad. Who looked at Altair.

Physically looking down at them with an almost frowned expression. Altair just looks away. Looking down as Optimus makes his way down to the floor to the others.

His deep voice is then heard as he speaks to the team.

“I hope the mission went well for you guys, unlike last time. And have you all heard from the Jolts team? They haven’t responded or reached out after a while.”

Jazz then stood a little straighter then spoke.

“The Decepticon Cyclonus cut the comms line at some point while we were hunting. So most likely before we were attacked once more by Decepticons. We were able to get enough energon. So better than last time. But.”

Jazz noticed the way Optimus narrowed his optics at him. Not out of anger but out of worry. Even if others couldn’t tell.

Altair has glanced at Jazz through their visors. The others mostly looked at Optimus the whole time he spoke. Jazz then continued.

“It keeps getting harder and harder to deal with just us as a team Prime. They give us their weakest and then more show up. We barely made it out. Luckily we had Altair, Crosshairs, and Ironhide but what if we don’t next time?”

Chromia nodded in agreement. Looking down as she glanced at Arcee and Elita who stood there.

Waiting for her. Optimus seemed like he was about to speak until he got a comm call. Finally speaking. “One moment, please.”

He then turned his frame to the side a little. Answering the call. “This is Optimus.”

It was Jolt on the other side of the line.

“Optimus. Apologies for not answering or reaching to you out sooner. Hound informed along with a few others that comms were cut thanks to one of the Decepticons. We’re not sure if they’re still alive. We were only able to help each other except one team. Unknown if they’re alive as well. We’re on our way to you now that the comms are working once more.”

Optimus closed his optics for a moment before opening them once more. “Thank you Jolt. We shall await your return.” The comm ends.

Optimus then fully faces Jazz once more. During the call, Altair has placed their cervo over one of their sword handles.

Waiting to hear if it was an emergency. Ironhide glanced at them and placed a cervo on their shoulder.

Telling them through his optics, they have fought enough for the day. Altair calming down a little. That’s when Optimus finished the call.

”We shall speak after you get some rest, old friend. You all can send in your reports later tomorrow.” Optimus spoke as he placed his larger cervo on his shoulder.

Jazz feels an almost form of comfort. Looking up at him with tired optics before giving a simple nod.

Optimus then stands a little straighter and looks over the rest of them.

”You all did well today. Go rest now and we shall discuss the next plan or mission later on.” Everyone gave a nod and said at the same time. “Yes Sir.”

The Ironhide and Optimus share a glance for a moment before he, Chromia, and Jazz start walking away. Prowl tries to speak to Optimus, only to be stopped by Optimus's cervo. Optimus then turns his helm before speaking. “You have your orders. You’re exhausted. Go sleep Prowl.”

Prowl furrowed its optic ridges behind his visors before turning around and leaving to the same door as the others.

Leaving Altair with Optimus. Both knew why the two were still there.

Optimus then glanced at Elita. Who stood there since Arcee went to join Chromia. He then looked back at Altair. Who was currently waiting for his orders. Elita tried to make it look like she didn’t care. Altair didn’t make it obvious but they made sure to glance at her.

Side opticing at her knowing she can get too interested.

Optimus then looked back at you. Speaking in an almost whisper-like tone. Slowly nodding his helm as he spoke. “Let’s go.”

Optimus then walked past them. Altair then turns their frame and starts following him. Keeping a distance as he walked forward. The two continue forward until they reach a meeting room.

Once at the front of the door. Optimus then presses in the passcode. The door soon opened. He then steps aside for Altair to enter first. They do so with their cervo still placed on top of one of their sword handles. Optimus watching them before joining behind them.

Then pressing into the passcode with his digit on the other side. The door then closed. Optimus turned to fully look at Altair. Who stood there looking over the table.

Their helm low. Showing they’re deep in thought. Optimus's mouthguard then retracts. Disappearing while he makes his way towards. Them. Placing a gentle cervo on their shoulder. This causes them to look up at him. He then spoke.

”What did he tell you?”

Altair looked back at the table. Their cervo once on their sword handle moved to grab something from their back. In a hidden pocket part of their frame. They pull out a drawing. Made out of some form of a paper-like object with greyness and some energon blood on it.

They placed it in his cervo that was out before them, showing he was waiting to hold something. He then scanned the strange paper.

Though the two didn’t know what it was. He then makes his way around the table.

So then he’s on the other side of it. He then puts the paper down. Then sits in the chair there. Altair doing the same when Optimus gave them a nod.

Optimus and Altair stare at each other for a moment longer. That’s until Altair finally pulled back their visors and mouthguard.

Their bright yellow optics shinning almost bright for a moment. That’s when the two share a gentle smile.

Their optics soften for a little before Optimus speaks.

”As always, you pull through old friend. Bringing everyone back.” Altair let out a soft chuckle. Continuing to stare at him before speaking.

”I’m your oldest friend Optimus. Could you ever think any less?”

The two remained silent for a moment longer. Optimus looking at the paper. “This…planet. It could be the clue to the cube. But why does it look so familiar?” His helm remained turned looking toward the paper.

Who then had a serious expression on their faceplate before speaking. “It’s Earth, Optimus. Where our brothers are.”

Optimus seemed almost saddened for a moment.

Though he tried to not show it. He couldn’t hide it from them. They then spoke once more in a more serious tone once placing their cervos and arms on the table.

“Optimus, we made a vow.”

Optimus only glanced at Altair. Taking note of how serious they are. He then let out a soft sigh then turned his helm to look at them. Speaking once more.

Following their tone.

“We have history on that planet. Stepping foot will be like old times. Fighting alongside the humans. Though, times surely must have changed over the years. To get too attached in case of betrayal.”

Altair slowly gave a small nod. They agree with him. But their optics show worry.

Their usual smile is not visible anymore for them. They then spoke, trying to change the subject for a moment. “Any news of Bee and Drift. How are their missions going?”

Optimus let out a sigh. He then interlocked his cervos as he spoke.

“We still haven’t heard from Drift. He is taking this “make up for time” mission very seriously with such a dangerous mission. But I worry he’ll push himself. He’s a young bot. He can only learn the hard way at this point only now.”

Altair then looked down for a moment to think. “He’s trying. Now we can only wait upon his return.” They chuckled to themself.

Optimus then spoke in his usual yet almost casual voice. A voice only Altair and others close to him hear. “Still owes you that drink him?” They then nodded with a soft smile on their dermas. They noticed that Optimus soon had a bit of a frown on his dermas. Speaking again.

”Bee has returned from the same search mission. It was a success...He’s resting right now ” Altair stared at him a moment longer. The two of them deeply cared about him.

Altair then closed their optics for a moment. Thinking about everything that happened today.

Optimus finally spoke once more. “Go wash up. And get some rest, old friend. We don’t want that blood sticking and staying on you forever.”

Altair lets out a soft sigh before standing. Bowing their helm down with their optics closed.

“Good meeting. I’ll see you in the morning, sir.”

Optimus then spoke. “Rest well…….soldier.” The spoke the last part in almost sad. Hesitating a little. The two smiled at each other.

Altair then turned away and walked towards the door. Pressing in the same passcode and walking out.

The door then closed behind him. They let out a sigh and started walking toward the cleaning stations. Passing Elita who was about to join Optimus for another meeting.

The last one for the day alongside Ironhide who didn’t need much to recharge.

He then nodded to Altair when the two passed each other. They do the same to him with a small smile.

They soon past a few other neutral bots who were in the same shower on the ship.

Altair walks into one of the parts with the three walls and a door. Cleaning themselves up. Finally getting all the blood off and showing the small scrapes on them.

After they’re finally cleaned up and dry.

They make their way to their shared berth room with Moonracer. Who was already sleeping.

Altair made sure to make their way in quietly. As quiet as they can. Soon they lay down and then looked out the window of their berth room. Watching the stars and such.

Only now it hits them of how they haven’t slept so much in so long.

Soon since tomorrow they’ll be with Optimus for certain missions and meetings. They can sleep in. At least for an extra hour.

The first meeting won’t be for a long while on that very morning.

Oh man. I’m not really a perfectionist, but I got so excited about this chapter and honestly had to make sure everything was just right before posting.

Honestly, I think I’m gonna do a sort of rewrite just to add in a few more scenes that can help with the story and honestly look forward to opinions and even some criticism along with thoughts for this first chapter. I want a lot of people to enjoy my work, but I am also aware that it’s not for everyone. Anyway, I hope you guys still enjoyed this chapter. I know I did and I hope to see many of you in the next one in a couple week.

As always a repost is appreciated and I hope to see you guys in the comments. Hope the rest of you have a good rest of your day.

Those who wished to be mentioned/tagged:

@drimmmy

@shddyboo

@shiny-sol

@redblueequalhot

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nights-at-crystarium · 1 year ago

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Fragments - episodes 31-35 author notes

You can find similar breakdown posts on older episodes in my pinned!

The chasm in their understanding of what makes Vivi tick.

The stakes in this scene seem low and the twins are just overdramatizing the danger for the sake of unwinding and being silly, right? Yesn't. One wrong move or word, and they join those leafmen scattered all over the place.

Finding the line between bad actor and caring sister.

Of course Alisaie wants to hang out with Vivi. She doesn't want to admit that to herself, let alone risk looking desperate in her brother's eyes. Tsundere moment. It's been a while since they've. Had a rest. Between rescuing Minfilia from Laxan Loft and making their way to Il Mheg. Alphinaud, at least in my hc, isn't as physically durable, but definitely as stubborn and proud as Alisaie, so he wouldn't simply agree to chill out for a moment. Alisaie makes him tunnel-vision her bad (?) acting and openly throwing the game for supposedly selfish reasons, while she gets what she wanted, AND forces Alphi to sit his ass down.

I’m sorry but I really need to point out that her ahoge did, in fact, launch into the stratosphere.

More under the cut~

....Can you blame her tho.

Vivi’s shirt’s a bit more plain than usual, he needed to wear something practical under his crystarium guard disguise in Laxan Loft.

The flashback in episodes 32-33 has no dialogue per se, only monologues, to emphasize how disconnected they are.

Technically both vivis are real, but Exarch’s memories are definitely heavily skewed. He’d only known Vivi during the CT quests, in this story it’s a month or two in summer, during which literally nothing bad happens, sans the finale. Alisaie, however, got lucky to experience Vivi during Stormblood, his absolute low.

Exarch and Alisaie sit on opposing sides of the bias, one wears pink glasses, delusional and bluepilled, the other one’s (heh) redpilled, perhaps a bit too much. Hence Alisaie feels the whiplash when her jerkass woobie friend suddenly acts mellow (back in the present), still she has the expertise to tell that he’s not affected by a fae spell or anything.

Full page because I’m so proud of the paneling here, simple as this trick is, these speech bubbles blocking Vivi from sight neatly illustrate that Alisaie just babbles away, paying no heed to his state.

With the power of flashbacks and stories told by one character to another, I’m able to revisit any moment in their past whenever I please. I didn’t commit to a linear story because there was no story! Well, just the outlines. Vivi as a character began in ShB because I really needed to fuck that old man, I started writing down the lil scenes loosely connected by the canon plot, and that’s how the whole concept of Fragments came to be.

It may not work for everyone, but my secret sauce’s that you don’t have to begin at the beginning. Make a guy, put him in a situation, then ask a lot of whys and hows to expand his story backward and forward.

Keeping the past events for later allows me to flesh things out at a leisurely pace. This Alisaie flashback is actually an iteration, originally I’d planned to have Vivi stand alone and just think the broody thoughts, and that was supposed to be the transition between ARR and ShB arcs. I grow more writing muscle as I go, and I’m infinitely happy that I avoided that angsty infodump.

Okay this’s becoming a big fat tangent, but I wanted to acknowledge another pitfall: overusing a character as a mere exposition tool. I wouldn’t do this for, say, Tataru or Y’shtola. Being THE flashback haver makes sense for Alisaie because a) they’re close with Vivi, b) her worldview and opinion on Vivi are changing in ShB, she’s a smart lil thing who would slow down and reflect when appropriate, c) she has a distinct arc in my comic, and knowing what’s going on inside that elf brain will give you the most entertainment out of her actions in the present moment.

I’m new to writing and very excited about the story that comes together as we speak, so I like to show around my kitchen. Please lemme know if you enjoy this. I don’t know if I’m parroting the boring 101s, or if this’s actually useful to someone.

“Meals made for me” YEA HE CAN’T COOK. Well, barely.

New sharp outfit, procured by our most magnanimous branch. The “tail” will help me draw the upcoming Titania fight, it adds fluidity to his movements.

*presses the upgrade button*

There's a lot happening in his head that's not being shown. I hope at least some readers wonder who or what he leaves behind in his mind's eye in this moment. What we know for sure is that he doesn’t take too long to make a decision.

Not sure if subtle, but I did try the breadcrumbing:

Unfortunately for everyone, including himself :’>

I love this one especially because, instead of telling that about himself, Vivi asks Ardbert, kinda gauging his wol experience against the other wol’s.

Episode 34 really shook people awake and reminded that we’re off the msq rails with this story. I loved the response it evoked in the tags, lots of thoughtful rambling about being a hero.

Fae temptation jokes and all, but Feo Ul really says what Vivi needs to say out loud to himself.

Normalize prioritizing self-care over world-saving.

Vivi genuinely cares about Feo Ul. That’s unusual. It might be my storytelling mistake that I didn’t show much of his typical indifference before this scene, unless you count the episodes where he does this

instead of hurrying the fuck up with the msq. Or, perhaps, it’s okay, since this gets plenty of attention later on. You won’t miss the fact that he isn’t eager to set himself on fire to keep others warm. Feo Ul just lucked their way into his heart, and, as a result, he approaches the Titania fight with unusual consideration.

/srs mode on ^

Remember how I just talked about developing this story in all directions at once? I planned Vivi to have this demeanor during the early days of writing Fragments. Like, most of the time. He’d be a broody bitch, get slowly thawed by Exarch’s kindness, and... That’d be it. In veeeeeery broad strokes, this’s still the case, but the current iteration has much more nuance.

Vivi and Titania’s likeness has no deep meaning, take it or leave it. Vivi cares about appearances, he was bound to notice this. Feo Ul can see souls, visuals are secondary to them. But Vivi, being himself, must doubt and question everything.

He moves fast and thinks a lot as the adrenaline speeds him up.

Notice how he lets Titania speak and remains quiet. This’s common in most fights: he doesn’t indulge with chats or banter those who he sees as mere targets to destroy. There’s like a point of no return, if an enemy poses no threat and can be talked out of dying, Vivi will speak, sadly he enters this fight knowing that Titania has to die no matter what.

Once he’s familiarized himself with the situation, and realized that Titania’s more than just a mindless husk, things change up a bit. But for now, he just runs in circles, analyzes the situation, and overthinks about their visual resemblance :’>

Sorry not sorry but unintentional reference x’DD

To be fair Vivi IS being a magical boy in this miniarc so this works lmao.

Wrapping up on this note, thanks for sticking with me and reading till the end~

#ffxiv #ffxiv: fragments #fragment ii: new world old friend #fragments talk

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neevblanc · 1 year ago

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„spiders and scarves” ♡

a/n — hi hi! miguel is such a complex character and my feelings for him are similarly complex lol. i hope i did him justice!!

૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Miguel O'Hara x GN! reader

Tags— fluff, pre-relationship, christmas time cuz yay!! (ur spider name is azure bite cuz i imagined ur suit to be blue)

CW/TW— implied boss x worker...thats it

“Oh, please!” Spiderbyte whines, clasping her hands together. Her eyes presumably widened under her mask as the stylized eyes widened comically in a version of puppy eyes you’d seen many times before. You gave her a look and shook your head.

“No, dude. It’s not my fault you didn’t finish that report. I did all of my work and won’t do yours.” You replied, leaning back into your office chair. Spiderbyte, or Margo, whined and deflated. The younger girl hid her face in her arms, crossed on the desk before her. The girl was smart as a whip, but might as well have been allergic to formal paperwork.

“Not even as my Christmas gift?” Margo pleaded, her voice muffled. You smiled, biting back laughter.

“Nope. Already got you one.” You said, leaning forward to turn off your hologram desk and log out of the Spider Network. Margo perked up at the mention, her mask disintegrating into little pixels and exposing her face entirely.

“Really? What is it?” She asked, grinning widely. You gave her a baffled look as you hung your bag on your shoulder, putting on your scarf and gloves.

“Why would I tell you that, Margo? You’ll see on Christmas, like everyone else does with Christmas presents.” You laughed, disregarding the dismayed whine that left the girl.

“I’ll see you next week, bye.” You said, sending Margo a little wave as you left the area. Pressing your palm to the reader next to the door, the door slid open easily.

You grimaced at the amount of light leaking from the windows in the main area. Spiders bustled around, some running and some lounging around the chairs and tables laid out. The door closes behind you, leaving you in the hall surrounded by other spider people (and a hilarious number of Peter Parkers!)

You settled your headphones in their place and started walking, thumbing at your phone screen to find the playlist you were feeling most for the bus ride home. Well- home. You’d be making a trip to your apartment in this world to get some things in order before going back to your earth.

It’s just your luck that only two minutes into the search, your spider-sense goes wild, and you’re turning on your heel faster than you could even think of.

You stumble backward, face contorting in surprise when you come face to face with a…horse.

31913- or Cowboy Spiderman- stared back at you, sheepishly trying to get his horse to back up from where it was whinnying two centimeters from your nose. Begrudgingly, you shove your headphones down to rest by your neck.

“Sorry, Azure Bite. Got a little too close there,” he drawled, patting his horse’s shoulder as it finally took a few steps back and allowed you to crane your neck upward to look at him properly.

“You’re good. Is there…anything you need?” You asked, starting to feel the awkwardness settle in the interaction. Your brain had just started preparing for no conversation, and the interruption left you reeling slightly.

“Uh...have you happened to see Miguel around?” He asked, voice growing small and nervous.

“Nope. Not for a few hours; he should’ve gone home at 3. Why?” You frowned, shaking your head. Cowboy nodded, tongue clicking in dissatisfaction.

” Ah, I had a question for him. Pav and Jess said they hadn’t seen him leave. Sorry for botherin’ ya. Happy holidays!” He said, nodding his goodbye and taking off at a moderate trot. You stood still, mouth pursed.

‘Miguel isn’t the nicest boss,’ you reasoned. ‘He’s a grown man. It really is none of my business. He likes to be mysterious, and who am I to interrupt?’

…

You turned around, shoving your headphones back on, and quickly approached the center elevator in the middle of the floor. Other spiders send you waves and quick acknowledgments, and you do your best to answer them slightly despite being on a mission.

You rush into the elevator, closing the doors before anyone else can enter. Pressing your palm to the reader on the console and waiting for the extra buttons to show up, you hoped no one needed to get on this specific elevator.

The panel lights up, and five extra buttons quickly emerge from the metal, sliding into place seamlessly. You quickly pressed the second one and waited for the elevator to jolt to a start before tilting your head toward the ceiling.

“LYLA, you there?” You called, squinting at the bright light of LYLA’s projection despite having anticipated it. LYLA hovers near the button panel, on a special little square section just for her. She grins, crossing her legs as she files her nails.

“Yessum, Bite?” She crooned, fluttering her eyes from behind pink-tinted glasses. You waved lightly, leaning on the back wall of the elevator.

” Is Miguel in his hiding hole again?” You asked, to check. LYLA paused her filing and pursed her lips, tilting her head.

“Not sure I can tell you that! The boss said no one should bother him.” LYLA hummed. You gave her a look, vaguely amused.

“Since when have you listened to Miguel?” You laughed. LYLA grinned sharply and nodded, her holographic form standing up as soon as the elevator doors opened with a ping.

“You’re right! He’s up here, ‘been moping for hours. Have fun.” She waved cheekily, the hologram quickly shutting off as you stepped onto the floor.

The five extra floors you had clearance to were Miguel’s personal floors. Few other people had access to them (including Margo and Jess, to name some), which made them prime real estate for when Miguel needed to run from people.

“Miguel?” You called, cautious of how dark the living space seemed to be. You almost thought LYLA had lied when a gruff voice startled you out of your head.

“What are you doing here.” He answered, voice low and angry the way it usually was. Your ears quickly clock the direction it came from, leading you toward the balcony part that wasn’t visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The door was left open, cold air billowing into the room. The chill immediately nips at your nose and cheeks when you step out.

“Sorry. People were looking for you, apparently. I thought you left hours ago.” You shrugged, shoving your hands in your coat pockets. Miguel glared at you from where he sat, slumped into an oversized patio chair. He’s nursing a glass of whiskey, the knuckles on his hands turning a prominent pinkish tone due to the freezing air.

“Who?” He asked, bringing the glass to his lips. His cheeks and nose are flushed from the cold, too. Despite his black knit sweater, Miguel had foregone any essential layering that would have saved him from the cold.

” 31913. Didn’t tell me why, though. He seemed a little nervous.” You said, clenching and unclenching your fists in your pockets. ‘Shit, it’s so damn cold out here.’

“You didn’t ask?” He said accusingly, face sour. Your face screwed up.

” I’m off the clock. Whatever he’s got going on has to wait until I come back in next week.” You defended, disregarding the scoff Miguel let out. Your brow furrows, making a point to let your eyes rove over his form.

” You should head inside, you know. You’ll get a killer cold out here with no layers.” You said, not unfamiliar with his unhealthy habits. Miguel ignored you and brought his cup back to his mouth, lowering his head.

You sighed heavily and stepped closer to him, ignoring how Miguel stiffened and shifted to face you like you were a threat. With one quick motion, you unloop the scarf around your neck and weave it around his, leaving it folded neatly and covering his mouth.

“I really don’t want to deal with you sick. Merry Christmas, Miguel. I’ll see you next week.” You say, leaving the stunned-still man on the balcony and making your way back to the elevator.

You hear the chair screech backward just as the elevator doors click shut, and LYLA’s back on her little perch without prompting.

“Thanks, he’s been brooding outside for hours. He’s the worst when he’s sick.” She whines, pulling at her short hair. You laugh, nodding.

“Of course. I hate him sick too; it’s like he’s four years old when he’s got a runny nose.” You say, grimacing. LYLA beams.

“Yeah, yeah! Exactly. I’ll remind him to give that scarf back, by the way. Have a Merry Christmas!” LYLA yells, waving bye enthusiastically as you arrive on the ground floor and start your trek back to the bus station as initially planned.

You walk to the station with the wind biting at your face, and when you return to the HQ a week later, you adamantly refuse to tell anyone about the snotty nose you had the entire week prior.

ago.

note — there's not much miguel in this, ironically. i had a ton of fun just writing the spider world so, sorry!! i think it fits, though. Miguel is a very guarded man and this little fic is sort of a view into how you manage to worm through his walls (without even trying to, really.) p.s i love lyla

©neevblanc 2023 // do not plagiarize or repost

#atsv x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #spiderman x reader #gn!y/n #gn!reader #neev.doc

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tapiokauwu · 6 months ago

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ok guys...

sorry, I disappeared yesterday because I realized that I'm splitting on my best friend and now I want to kms because my mind won't stop telling me that I should isolate myself and disappear and leave everyone alone...

I also hate that my best friend is busy but I feel guilty because damn I should be happy that she has dreams and goals... like, I know most people are not like me lol

I have nothing I can actually look forward to, I just survive, I exist on this planet, I stay at home all day and most of the time I don't even get dressed and just wear my pajamas.

I know it, I've always known that she was different from me... she always has that light in her eyes when she talks about art and she loves drawing and painting and I enjoy seeing her happy doing something that she likes...

but I don't have anything like that. I spend my days playing videogames and reading comics, fighting against mood swings and the urge to die. My whole life is just trying to escape reality and distract myself from everything. I'm always bored to death so I have to do something that keeps my mind in another world so I don't see this reality I live in.

She used to play Genshin with me but now she's busy with art school and spends most of her time drawing, she doesn't play much anymore and logins like once every month... I rarely go outside even tho we hang out once in a while, but every time we do I feel like I'm a burden and I wish I was a better person so she could feel proud of me.

I'm so fucking useless. I dropped out of highschool because it didn't matter how smart I was and how hard I tried, everything just kept falling down. Everything I try fails miserably, whether it's my fault or not. I don't feel capable of finding a job and working because I always end up having a derealization episode that lasts hours and/or feeling very physically and mentally tired after only a couple of hours (even if it's not a tiring job) and at that point I feel sick and I become inefficient. And I have to mask. I constantly have to mask. Which is VERY DRAINING.

I've always been the "weird one" and the "psycho", but there are still people like my father who say shit like that my sh is "stupid" or strangers who tell me I should stop because "it hurts"... there's nothing in between, it's always "exaggerated" and "a phase" or "toxic" and "ew stay away from me". Like, I'm sorry man, I just want to live and be loved and do what everyone else does, but I just can't. It's like watching people do something fun and be happy and laughing together from behind a blurred window, and even tho I keep looking for a way to go outside and join them I can't find it. Thinking about it, even if I managed to escape and approach those people, they would just run away with a disgusted face like I did something wrong.

Idk what to do with this life anymore...

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magicalmysteries777 · 1 year ago

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The Bloody-Handed and The Anguish of Loving Them - Chapter 5.

Summary: Almost a year has passed since Eddie Munson died and it feels like the only person that isn't moving on is Steve.

After spending the night studying a Dungeons and Dragons handbook, Steve is convinced he's figured out how to bring Eddie back. Not only that, but defeat Vecna once and for all too. Now he just has to prove it.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Masterlist: Here.

Chapter: 5 of 10.

Chapter WC: 3538.

CW: Swearing.

A/N: (see end of chapter for notes.)

This story can also be found on AO3 here.

Taglist: @ohmeg 🖤

March 24th, 1987.

Steve had always thought that the phrase “they locked eyes and it was as though time had stood still” was bullshit, nothing more than a heavily recycled trope used by romance authors to sell their readers on the ideology of ‘true love’ - a lie, a fable, pure fiction. Yet there he was, with Eddie Munson’s fiery, red eyes locked on his while the world around them stilled.

“Eddie?” he asked, cautiously. The party spun around, a well-earned number of muffled “what the fuck?!”s and shocked gasps escaping from their lips as they too set sights on the winged man staring down at them. The younger members of the party all began asking their questions at the same time, rambling over one another in a wave of emotion. Steve couldn’t form a coherent sentence, his mouth opening and closing comically like a fish as he tried to find words. Eddie remained silent, his eyes still locked on Steve’s as the rapid-fire questions kept coming at him.

“How did you get out of the grave?”

“Why didn’t you come back through the gate?”

“I can’t believe you’re actually alive.”

“Did the bats turn you into a vampire?”

“Do you drink blood now?”

“Does this mean you can be our Dungeon Master again?”

“Wait until we tell Jeff and Gareth.”

“Wait until we tell Wayne, he’s going to be ecstatic.”

“What’s the wingspan on those bad boys?”

“Are you going to help us kill Vecna?”

Eddie didn’t answer, his eyes still locked on Steve’s with his expression blank. Dustin stepped forward to approach Eddie and his babysitting instincts leapt into overdrive. Steve’s hand shot out and clasped onto Dustin��s shoulder before he could think about what he was doing, eagerly pulling him back to the group despite his protests. “Get off me, Steve. He’s right there. Eddie’s right there,” he pleaded.

“That’s not Eddie,” Steve replied in a hushed whisper, his eyes narrowing.

“What are you talking about?”

Steve felt his stomach drop as he watched the corners of Eddie’s mouth twist into a wicked, devilish grin.

“Little Stevie is right, boys and girls,” Eddie announced, his large, bat-like wings beating rhythmically to keep him suspended in the air looking down at them. “No Eddie here.”

“I’m looking right at you, man. What the hell are you talking about?” Dustin asked.

“You left Eddie Munson to rot, in that hole right there,” Eddie spat, pointing to the ground behind them. His eyes darkened. “He sacrificed himself for you, for everyone, and you left him.”

“We-”

“Don’t try to fucking justify it!” Eddie yelled. “You couldn’t even give him the decency of taking his body back through the gate. You left him in another fucking dimension!”

“I’m sorry, Eddie. We couldn’t-” Dustin began.

“Enough!” he bellowed, silencing Dustin in an instant. “Your pitiful excuses mean nothing to me.”

The party said nothing, waiting with bated breath for him to speak again and fill the eerie silence. Steve felt Robin slip her hand into his and give it a reassuring squeeze.

“Do you know how long it takes to claw your way out of a six-foot-deep hole?” Eddie asked, his voice growing more maniacal with each syllable that ushered from his lips. “Days. It took him fucking days to get out of that stupid hole and who should he find waiting for him as soon as he gets out? Vecna. Turned out he had a little proposition for dear old Eddie. Go back to rotting in the hole or join him. Eddie refused, of course. Said Vecna was “out of his goddamn mind” if he thought for one second that Eddie would join him. Swore blind he’d never betray his friends. Didn’t need all that much convincing in the end.”

“Come on, man. What is this? Some sick joke?” muttered Mike.

“Does it sound like a fucking joke to you?!” Eddie spat furiously. “Vecna can be quite convincing, you see? He told poor, little Eddie all about how his sacrifice was useless. How he died for nothing because his precious friends failed to get the job done. How you all left him to rot while you went about your lives, letting everyone believe that Eddie Munson was the satanic cult-leading freak who killed a bunch of Hawkins High students. But Vecna could help. Vecna could make it all worthwhile. He could change him, give him power - enough power to make all those who had wronged him pay.”

Eddie’s wings slowed as he flew lower, allowing the party to get a closer look at him in the dim light. His skin was pale, almost white, void of all colour and signs of life. His once deep brown irises were now blood red, the skin around his eyes dark and sunken. The corners of his mouth twitched into another cruel smile, revealing a long, pointy pair of fangs where his canines used to be.

“Eddie Munson is gone,” he began, “and I am what remains.”

“Bullshit!” Steve cried, unaware he was about to speak until the words had already left his mouth. Robin’s grip on his hand tightened.

“No bullshit, Stevie.”

“Eddie wouldn’t do that. He’d never become a monster, he’d never join his team. I know he wouldn’t do that to us, to me,” he argued, choking on his words a little, fully aware of how in denial he sounded.

“The Eddie you knew was a scared, pathetic child who ran away at the first sign of trouble. All bark but no bite. I am not.”

“You’re Kas, aren’t you?” Dustin asked nervously.

“You always were the sharpest tool in the metaphorical shed,” he replied, gesturing to the rest of the group.

“Just answer the question.”

“Kas the Bloody-Handed, the Lich King’s Lieutenant, at your service.”

Kas flew higher into the air before lowering himself into a taunting bow. Steve let out a stifled sob, his stomach dropping further than he ever thought possible.

“Everything you’ve done so far, every choice you’ve made, every battle you’ve fought - it was all for this. This was his grand plan all along. It was me who sent the army of the undead to greet you at Karlach’s cave. Me who gave the orders to finish you all off. I’ll admit, you’ve all gotten a little tougher since last year but it’s no bother. That was just a small taste of what’s in store for you all - I’ll get you next time. We’ll be seeing each other again soon.”

And with that final taunt, Kas flew off into the dark sky and out of sight, leaving the party to ruminate on the events that had just unfolded.

Fifteen minutes passed in utter silence before Lucas finally spoke. “We’ve got to kill him too, right?”

Steve felt sick to his stomach. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t sit there and listen to them debate on whether or not they were going to kill Eddie. Eddie who they’d all come back here to save. Steve excused himself and rushed into the trailer, making a beeline for the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

Steve collapsed against the door, sliding down it and landing in an exhausted heap on the floor. Tears began flooding out of him like a burst dam, far too strong for him to keep contained. His throat burned as he wretched and choked on his sobs, his watery eyes locked on a rather distressed-looking Hellfire Club shirt strewn on the floor. He felt like he was losing Eddie all over again. Every word that Kas had taunted them with was just another knife to Steve’s heart, shattering more and more with each syllable.

“Hey, man, you okay?” came Jonathan’s voice from the other side of the door, trying the handle as he spoke.

“Go away,” Steve croaked.

“Talk to me, man. You can’t hide in here forever.”

“I said go away, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Steve, open the fucking door.”

Steve pried himself off the ground and sat on the bed, looking like a child that had just been scolded by its parents, waiting for Jonathan to enter the room.

“You know,” Jonathan began, sitting next to Steve on the bed. “It’s okay if you’re not okay.”

“I’m fine. Just… a bit rattled, I guess?”

“Cut the crap, Steve. You’re a recovering alcoholic who just found out the love of his life is a fucking vampire, but not only that, a vampire that tried to kill us all.”

“He’s not the love of-”

“I know. Before he started with all that ‘Kas’ crap, you were looking at him the same way Will looks at Mike.”

“Oh. Does Nance know?”

“No, she just thinks you’re having a mental breakdown, and I’m about ninety percent certain most of the kids still think you’re doing this for Dustin. Will might have an inkling, though.”

“Robin figured it out too. It was only a matter of time.”

“So, are you okay?” Jonathan asked sincerely.

“No,” Steve admitted, the tears from earlier trying desperately to make a reappearance.

Jonathan pulled Steve into a hug, holding him whilst Steve let his tears fall freely once more. A couple of minutes later, Steve pulled away.

“It’s just not fair, you know?”

“I know.”

“He was supposed to graduate, he was supposed to get a record deal and go on tour but then he fucking died, and I thought I’d figured out how to bring him back but now he’s a vampire. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? It sounds crazy. It is crazy. He’s a vampire,” Steve rambled, his left foot bobbing up and down on the spot. “A fucking vampire, Jonathan. How do you cure vampirism? Can it be cured?”

“Steve-”

“Maybe Lucas was right. Maybe we are going to have to kill him. We could take the spears apart and shave them down - stake to the heart and whatnot. Does silver work on vampires? Or is that just werewolves?”

“Steve, stop,” Jonathan interjected, his hand covering Steve’s mouth. “You’re spiralling.”

The door to the trailer opened and Jonathan scrambled to his feet, ready to jump into action for another unwelcome surprise. He visibly relaxed, letting out a deep sigh when he heard Robin’s voice calling from the living room.

“Guys, Will thinks he’s found something.”

Steve sprang into full babysitting mode when he exited the trailer, opting to ignore the knowing look Robin gave Jonathan when she’d seen Steve’s puffy eyes, and began laying down the first few steps of their new plan.

“Before Will says anything, I think we need to get out of here. I don’t know about anyone else but I need a shower and a hot meal before I can do any more thinking. I reckon we go back through the gate and meet up at my place. We’ll take showers, order food, start our new plan, and get some sleep. You little ones best call your parents too, so they don’t panic. Sound good?”

“We’re sixteen, you asshole. Stop with the little ones crap.”

“Sounds like Dusty-Bun needs a nap.”

Steve was the last of the party to make it back to his house. They’d filtered out of Eddie’s trailer one by one; it was too risky to travel as a group until they’d showered. The sheer amount of blood, sweat, and tears that were caked onto every one of them was bound to draw unwanted attention. He wasn’t sure just how long it had taken them, but as he hung his car key onto its hook he realised it was long enough for the ‘happy families’ charade they were all putting on to break.

“What did I miss?” Steve asked in a hushed tone as he took a seat next to Dustin and Will at the breakfast bar.

“They’ve been at it for the last fifteen minutes.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Mike. Nobody does. Not anymore,” El yelled.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, I’m just saying-”

“You’re just saying what you think I should do and not listening to anything else anyone has to say!”

“It’s too risky.”

“What other choice is there?”

“We’ll come up with something.”

“There isn’t enough time!”

“Would you please help me out here?” Mike prompted, turning to them.

“I think-” Steve began.

“Don’t drag them into this!”

“I think,” Steve repeated with a little more authority, “everyone needs to take ten minutes and calm down a little bit. Mike, go outside and cool off.”

“I’m not a fucking dog,” Mike grumbled, making his way to the back door.

“You okay, El?” Dustin asked. She stormed upstairs and slammed the door behind her without saying a word.

“I’ll go check on her,” announced Will, already halfway out of the room.

Steve folded his arms on the table and dropped his head into them, both mentally and psychically exhausted. “What’s gotten into her?” Robin asked, pointing to the stairs behind her as she entered the kitchen.

“Mike doesn’t want her to face Vecna again,” Dustin answered, finally giving Steve some context clues to go off.

“Well, none of us want her to but we might not have another choice,” answered Robin.

“That’s what El said but Mike isn’t listening to her.”

“That boy is in for a harsh reality check. Anyway, the shower in Steve’s bathroom is free.”

“Dibs,” Steve interjected before Dustin could even open his mouth. “There’s some cash in the kitchen, order pizzas.”

It was the best shower he’d ever had in his entire life. Hot but not scolding and very, very long. Steve scrubbed his skin red raw until he finally felt clean and then he just stood there, letting the hot water rain down on him in the hopes that it would wash away his sadness too.

“Sadness comes in waves. If you’re scared of the wave, you can run away and wait for it to go back out - never really knowing what the ocean feels like. But if you’re brave, you can ride it out and let the wave wash over you. The water will pass and the calm will follow, as will another wave - but you’ll probably find that it won’t be so scary next time,” Robin told him. “Something my Grandpa used to tell me when I was feeling down as a kid.”

Steve’s sadness didn’t feel like dipping his toes into the ebbs and flows of a gentle wave. It felt like he was out in the middle of the ocean, treading water like his life depended on it, with no signs of land in sight.

A series of quick knocks and a muffled yell of “food!” grabbed Steve’s attention who, in turn, inhaled deeply, put on some clean clothes, and went downstairs with as much of a grin as he could muster. Perhaps he would drown those sorrows later.

The ten of them, significantly less cranky now they had full stomachs, gathered around the crackling fireplace in Steve’s living room, books out and ready to plan.

“Who wants to go first?” Nancy began.

“Things have gotten a lot more complicated than just killing Vecna. Kas gave us a warning and I think we need to make that our priority. If we’re going to kill Vecna, we’re going to have to kill Kas first,” Lucas answered.

“Well I think we need to cure Kas before we fight Vecna. It’ll be a hell of a lot easier to defeat Vecna with Eddie on our side than it will be to defeat Vecna and Kas at the same time,” Dustin interjected. “Any objections?”

“Sounds simple when you put it like that but what would that actually entail?” asked Jonathan.

“Most of the folklore ends in killing the vampire to cure it,” Robin answered, earning a scorned glare from Dustin.

“‘You touch a creature that has been dead for no longer than 200 years and that died for any reason except old age. If the creature’s soul is free and willing, the creature is restored to life with all its hit points.’ True Resurrection,” Will read aloud, not looking up from his handbook. “Cleric, level nine. Nancy could cast this on him.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere,” Dustin grinned, clapping his hands together.

“One small problem,” said Erica, all eyes landing on her. “The book said ‘if the creature’s soul is free and willing’ so that would mean, for the spell to work, Kas has to want to be cured. Sounds to me like he’s pretty set on being a vampire and killing us.”

“Eddie’s still in there,” answer Dustin, calmly.

“Bull. Shit.”

“We all heard him give the same speech, right?” Dustin asked, receiving a couple of nods in response. “He was talking about himself, Eddie, in the third person - as though they’re two different people. If that was the case, he wouldn’t have Eddie’s memories or anything like that, would he? He’s just a little… brainwashed. All we have to do is convince him that he wants to be cured.”

“You have a really bad habit of making complicated things sound way too simple, you know that right? He’s more likely to attack on sight rather than stand there and listen to us. We’re going to have to trap him or something,” Steve added.

“I can help with that,” El told him. “I can use the vines to restrain him.”

“Brilliant. So how do we kill Vecna?” asked Nancy.

“Will, didn’t you think of something earlier?” asked Robin.

“So,” Will began, snapping his book closed. “It was more like a three birds, one stone kind of plan. When a wizard dies any magic he cast will die along with him. So, in theory, if we kill Vecna the spell he used to turn Eddie into Kas will be null and void.”

“That’s only two birds, what’s the third?” asked Robin, stifling a yawn.

“Max.”

“How do we kill him?” asked Lucas, a look of determination spread across his face.

“It has to be me,” El announced.

“No,” Mike argued instantaneously.

“You’ve been awfully quiet so far, Mike. I don’t see you coming up with anything better,” defended Jonathan. “El’s tough, she can do it.”

“And she won’t be alone this time. She’ll have Will’s powers and the rest of us as backup,” added Steve.

“No,” repeated Mike, rushing out of the room.

“Mike, come back! I can help her,” yelled Will, following Mike from the room.

“I guess we vote, right? To make things fair?” Steve shrugged. “Nance?”

“I’m on board.”

“Jonathan?”

“Me too.”

“Rob? Robin?” Steve asked, not gaining a response. He turned to face her and found her drifting off to sleep, her head on her shoulder. “Right, everyone go to bed. We’ll carry this on tomorrow.”

March 25th, 1987.

Steve waited until he was sure everyone was asleep and tiptoed to the entryway, grabbed his car keys off the hook, and very cautiously closed the front door behind him. He’d tried to sleep, really he had, but the image of Kas glaring his fangs burned into his mind was too much for Steve to bear. He had only one destination in mind when he turned the key in the ignition - the twenty-four-hour gas station.

“Well, hello handsome. Hair cut suits you,” greeted the Clerk, the bell above the door diverting her attention from the magazine she had been reading at the desk. “Not seen you for a while.”

“Thanks,” smiled Steve, making his way over to the shelves. “I’ve cut back.”

He grabbed the first bottle of vodka he saw, not caring about the brand or price as long as it got him to sleep. He placed the bottle on the desk and searched his pockets for his wallet.

“Any smokes tonight, darling?”

“No, I’m good,” Steve answered. He produced a few bills from his wallet and tucked the vodka into his inside pocket before muttering his goodbyes to the woman behind the counter.

Steve argued with himself the whole way home.

He knew he shouldn’t, but what use was he to anyone if he didn’t get any sleep? He could miss something. Mess up an important part of the plan. Yes, it was vital that Steve got some sleep - even if that meant having a drink to do so. Or was it? What if he drank too much? It was hard to have ‘just the one’ these days. No, no. He’d be fine. He’d have one (maybe two) shots and go straight to sleep, wake up feeling slightly less zombie-like, and be ready when it came time to face Kas again.

With the front door locked and his keys hung up, Steve turned to make his way upstairs for a night of blissful sleep - instead, he almost jumped out of his skin. “Will? What are you doing up?” he asked in a whisper, gaining no response. “Will? Hello? You sleepwalking or something?”

He reached out and grasped Will by the shoulder, turning him around so that they were face to face.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Stevie,” Will growled, the voice coming from his lips not his own. His eyes rolled upwards, eyelids fluttering violently as he was placed under Vecna’s trance.

Author's Note: There’s a lot of dialogue in this chapter but I felt like we really needed to bond with the characters as well as have them bond with each other (and give Steve a hug, jfc) after that battle.

I can’t believe we’re halfway through already! Four more chapters and an epilogue to go. 😲

Just want to drop in and say a huge thank you to everyone who’s been reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting thus far. It’s super appreciated and I love finding out your thoughts on the fic. You’re all amazing.

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realm-sweet-realm · 1 year ago

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One For All, Chapter Five

In an AU where the protagonist never fell from the sky, the Survey Corps will have to pull together and make use of every resource at their disposal to face the challenges present in Pokemon: Legends Arceus. There will be surveyshipping.

This is the second-last chapter.

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The silence in the cave was deafening. Cyllene stepped forward. “Very well,” she said.

T e l l m e, h o w d i d i t f e e l t o l o s e y o u r p a r e n t s?

"Telepathically?" Cyllene asked. She hadn't seen reason to think about that in ages. But as much as she didn't like where this trial was going and feared what else Mesprit might ask her to recount, Hisui needed the red chain. And if she could do it without tarnishing her image to the others, it would be for the far better.

E v e r y o n e h e r e w i l l h e a r y o u e i t h e r w a y.

Cyllene hesitated.

I f y o u c a n 't t e l l t h e m, I c a n s h o w t h e m. B u t y o u m u s t s h a r e y o u r e m o t i o n s t o p a s s t h e t r i a l.

"Show them, then."

The cave walls gave way to an illusion of a house in the countryside surrounded by farmland. The illusion of a tall, armoured man walked through the group and knocked on the door, which was opened by a nervous-looking girl of about twelve with long ice-blue hair.

"Hello? Who is this?" the girl asked.

The man shifted uncomfortably. "My name is General Kamado," he explained in a somber tone. "I've heard that your parents went missing."

The girl nodded. "They've been gone for two days. Have you seen them?"

Kamado hesitated. “In a sense, yes.”

The girl seemed to see the writing on the wall. She let out a nervous laugh as her eyes went wide. “They’re alive. You saw them alive, right?”

Kamado said nothing, but his pained look said everything.

“No. No… No. How…?”

Kamado took a deep breath. "They were found impaled and their bodies dragged into the underbrush. Most likely a random act by Johtonian ninjas. I'm sorry."

For a moment, the girl was in shock. And then she burst into tears and started crying into her hands. A wave of panicked distress hit Cyllene, and, if their faces and wet eyes were any indication, everyone else in the cave. Mesprit was making them all feel how she'd felt.

"Do you have any relatives that would take you in?" Kamado asked. "I'm sure there must be neighbours, at least."

The girl didn't even look up. Kamado took her in his arms and brought her in close, allowing her to bury her face in his chest.

"Come with me," Kamado said. It was something that Cyllene understood as an adult to be a more self-driven act than she'd known back then. Kamado and his wife had been unable to have children, and it would not have been difficult for him to find another place for her. Still, it had been the best thing he could have done for her. She'd needed the oasis he'd provided.

N o w w e w i l l s h o w t h e m w h y y o u j o i n e d t h e w a r, Mesprit explained, and the scene shifted to show an only slightly older Cyllene looking out the window, the deep bags under her eyes visible even in the early morning light.

Cyllene shut her eyes tight. Rei thought of her as so brave and heroic. This would change that. More importantly, it was treading far too close to things she did not want any of them to see.

A woman entered the scene and sighed. "I wish you'd at least try to sleep," she said. "I worry about Kamado not coming back, too. But he's survived every battle he's been in so far, and he's seen a few!" The woman smiled in a weak attempt to be comforting.

Cyllene turned to the woman. "How old do I have to be to help out at the camps?"

"You'd be old enough now."

"Then I want to be where he is as soon as possible."

The scene shifted to Cyllene sitting with a group of soldiers, comically small next to most of them. Kamado was amongst them, and being able to see where he was served as an immense comfort. "Hey, wanna learn how to fight, pipsqueak?" asked a large, red-haired young woman.

"Sure," Cyllene said. Before long they were squaring off in a field, swords in hand. Metal clashed against metal, and Mesprit allowed the others to feel her excitement. Zisu was clearly holding back, but not as much as she was expecting to for a beginner. It had given Cyllene the idea that maybe she could do more than keep Kamado in her sights- maybe she could take revenge on Johto.

The scene shifted again to her and other soldiers in armour, marching toward a similar group of Johtonians in a field- foot soldiers and archers to the front, with the samurai vanguard close up behind them. Thankfully, Cyllene couldn't find herself in their ranks, so it was unlikely anyone else could. But she could feel bloodthirsty excitement in her chest, another emotion forced on her by Mesprit.

No, not this. Not in front of the clan leaders, Cyllene thought as the apparitions of archers and footsoldiers phased through their group. She didn't need them to see her bloodlust.

D o y o u w i s h t o t e l l t h i s? Mesprit asked.

Just as Mesprit finished its question, a Johtonian samurai broke formation- perhaps out of panic or suicidal impulse- and ran, pushing through the Hoennian ranks. On instinct, Cyllene drew her sword to defend herself from the attacker, but the apparition faded right through her and attacked instead a Hoennian soldier with a stance almost identical to her own. The soldier struck the sword from the Johtonian's hand, knocked them down, and lowered their blade towards their throat. A distinctly female scream came from the armored figure, whose face was hidden by a helmet. Cyllene was momentarily stunned. She wasn’t expecting a woman. But there was no room for hesitation. She slit the Johtonian’s throat, stood up, and fell back into formation.

I killed a woman. Why does it matter that it’s a woman? Many of us are women, too. Why did that catch me off-guard? Cyllene thought, numb as she marched forward and arrows from the archers began to rain.

Suddenly, Cyllene felt a hard tug at her hair. Mesprit was right in front of her, trying to get her attention.

I a s k e d t h r e e t i m e s i f y o u w a n t e d t o t e l l t h e m i n s t e a d o f s h o w t h e m, Mesprit explained.

Despite herself, Cyllene took a moment to respond even as the cave once again became a cave. She glanced back at a horrified-looking Rei. She could have saved him from seeing this.

“What is the next question?” Cyllene asked, returning her attention to Mesprit and sheathing her sword.

Y o u 'v e k i l l e d p e o p l e, Mesprit stated. H o w d i d i t f e e l?

"The only people I killed were enemy soldiers. It was my duty to Hoenn."

N o t w h a t I a s k e d.

"It... does no good to think of that... but you leave me no choice. I expected to enjoy taking revenge on Johto. I… did, at times. I don't know how many people I killed and how many I merely wounded, but severe wounding isn't always an improvement on death. I've caused screams- men, women, boys, children so young I'm not sure whether they were girls or boys. I hated Johto, but I did not enjoy that. But it was necessary whether I enjoyed it or not. My actions were correct. It shouldn’t matter if my feelings were."

B u t i t d o e s, t o y o u.

Cyllene remained silent.

T e l l t h e m h o w t h e w a r h a u n t e d y o u, Mesprit ordered.

Cyllene closed her eyes and tried to put it into words she’d be willing to say. It was impossible. "Show them," Cyllene said. It was the only way she was going to complete this.

Cyllene turned her back and walked past the others. She could hear memories play out behind her. The first one was one in which, during peacetime, she’d thought a Johtonian was attacking and Kamado had to hold her down to keep her from hurting anyone. The jolt of panic that Mesprit forced through her shook her up so badly that nothing she heard registered after that. She was a trembling mess, hoping that the others didn’t look back at her. She wanted to tell them that that had been years ago, that she wasn’t like that anymore, that it had only caused her to be dangerous once. But there was only so much faith she could inspire in this state, and regardless, the damage was done. The damage was still being done. And she was too keyed up to even know what it was.

O n e l a s t q u e s t i o n, a n d i f y o u 'r e h o n e s t, t h e t r i a l w i l l b e c o m p l e t e. H o w d o y o u f e e l a b o u t t h i s t r i a l?

Cyllene turned back to face Mesprit, back to her steely professionalism. "It is an appalling waste of time and of my usefulness as a captain. The Survey Corps needs to think of me as a strong and infallible leader, and our allies need to see me as impartial and reasonable. You have helped us to save the world, but there was no reason for the cost."

W e l l t h e n…

Mesprit plucked out one of its plumes and handed it to Cyllene.

"Thank you," Cyllene said, taking it. Thankfully, the loathesome creature faded away after that.

"Our next location is in the Coronet Highlands. We'll travel on our flying Pokémon and stay low enough to find the rest of the Survey Corps. With any luck they will be gathered at the ruins Cogita described," Cyllene commanded the others, voice steady. She turned to exit the cave and began walking past the others, averting her eyes from whatever reactions they might have had. "Do what you will after the sky is fixed, so long as you do not breathe a word of this to anyone. But until then, you will follow me." There was a moment of uneasy silence as the group left the cave. “Please,” Cyllene added.

"Y-you got it, ma'am," Rei replied, "None of it leaves this cave! And we’re right behind you."

Cyllene didn’t look back.

Outside the cave, the red sky persisted, painting the landscape in its oppressive gloom. It was all the reminder Cyllene needed that now was the time to focus on the immediate.

The flight was short, and before long the six landed in front of Cogita and around two dozen Survey Corp members.

"Ah, there you are," said Cogita. "Did you bring the keys from the lake trio?"

"Yes," Cyllene replied, digging out the plume as Rei and Laventon did the same with their respective supplies.

"Perfect. While you were gone, I led the Survey Corps to harvest enough origin ore to make a few pokéballs from the red chain. We decided that would be the best use for it."

Cogita took the three items and carried them to the center of the Celestica ruins, the Survey Corps as well as the six following along to watch what was sure to be a mystical process. Once she was there, apparitions of the lake trio appeared and levitated the items from her hands. The items spun, bathed in red light, and then transformed into a beautiful chain of red gems that fell back down into Cogita's hands.

Cogita turned back to the group. "There. Now, what do you say, Survey Corps? Shall we do the crafting ourselves and allow these six a chance to rest? The lake trials aren’t easy. And lord knows that you have quite the challenge ahead of you."

"Thank you, Cogita,” Cyllene said.

It wasn't far to the Galaxy Team's nearest encampment, where the group started a fire and put on some food. The cries of Pokémon filled the air as the less intelligent ones played outside their balls and the cleverer ones bayed at the foreign sky. It was loud enough to save the six from attempting to make awkward conversation to distract one another from the reality of facing their allies or fellow Galaxy Team members. The group especially gave Cyllene her space, sensing that she was in no mood for casual interaction.

Laventon sent out the strange trio of Pokémon he’d brought- the specimens he called a rotom-mow, a porygon-Z, and a bronzong.

“Alright, you three,” Laventon called out over the noise, “If you have any special world-saving powers you’d like to share with me, now would be the time! Because time really is of the essence right now, and, well, um… I’m afraid it’s been hard to figure out exactly what you do or how you work biologically, or, well, anything about you, really.”

The three Pokémon looked at each other and appeared to laugh at him before joining the other Pokémon in the encampment at their play.

While Laventon watched the strange Pokémon, he felt someone grab his shoulder. It was Adaman, and Irida was standing beside him.

“You need to talk to Cyllene,” Adaman said.

Irida nodded in agreement. “It makes sense that the trial would shake her up, but she can't lead the mission while she's this fragile. You’re closest to her. You need to either comfort her or make her step down.”

Laventon looked back at the captain, who was tending the fire, apparently deep in thought. “I’ll talk to her,” he said.

Laventon sat down next to Cyllene. “Perhaps bringing those enigmatic creatures wasn’t my wisest move. But I couldn’t have forgiven myself if I found out later that they could have saved us!” he started, trying to keep the tone light.

“You have your typhlosion. That will be enough if you are separated from the group.”

"Do you want to go for a little walk, captain?"

"No," she said firmly, still looking to the fire.

"Please?"

Cyllene sighed. "Fine," she answered, getting to her feet.

Cyllene led the way into the pines, eyes forward.

"You know, you're nothing special to me," Laventon said. "Er, um, I mean, you're nothing different to me. Um, wait." Laventon sighed heavily. "What I mean, captain, is that I studied in Johto. My work had nothing to do with the war, but I met plenty of people who were affected by it.”

“And you can use that information to decide whatever you please once the world is saved. Until then, you follow me regardless of how it bothers you that I could have enjoyed hurting some of those people.”

“That isn’t what I meant at all. You're not anything I couldn't understand. Even if you were, you've proven yourself as a leader. And you didn’t do anything wrong during the war. Your feelings may have been complicated, but-”

Cyllene stopped dead. “I killed people. I chose to fight as soon as I was allowed because I wanted to kill people.” Her hands were balled into fists, and they were shaking. “I allowed Rei to witness a person bleeding to death. I don’t even know what else Mesprit showed you. And the clan leaders- what were they saying to you?”

“That you’re reasonably shaken up. I promise that’s all. None of us fault you for that, I’m sure of it.”

Cyllene looked back at Laventon. At very least, she knew he could trust him on that. Laventon knew how others thought. He was far better at that than she was. If that's what he saw, and if he were telling the truth, then he was probably correct. “Thank you,” she said.

“Do you need a hug?” Laventon asked, opening his arms.

Cyllene stepped into Laventon’s embrace, returned it, and cried, just like she’d cried in Kamado’s arms so many years ago. She’d lost her parents, lost her innocence, and then forged herself into a good and strong leader, both in action and in appearance. But it still felt so good to get the comfort she would have moments ago said she neither needed nor deserved.

After a while, the two separated. "Thank you," Cyllene said, her breathing returning to normal.

Laventon flashed his goofy smile. "Of course. We need you clear-headed for what's ahead, after all! Do you think you’re ready to lead?"

“Yes,” Cyllene said. Laventon could see the fire returning to her eyes.

“Jolly good! Shall we return to camp?”

“Yes.” There was a pause. “No. Before we return, there is something I’d like to tell you.” Cyllene looked Laventon directly in the eyes. "Laventon. You are my subordinate, and as such I wanted to keep an image to you. But, now that there are no secrets... I want you to know that I..." Cyllene squeezed her eyes shut as though bracing for something painful. "I love you. If we survive this, and you feel the same way, I would like to be with you."

Laventon crossed the space between them and kissed her on the lips, to which she immediately reciprocated.

#pokemon #captain cyllene #professor laventon #mesprit #captain kamado #rei #my fanfiction

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lightofraye · 9 months ago

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So as everyone knows Elta weasled her way into the Wales comic con. That has me questioning what was the con promoter/booker thinking?! I think Misha was originally supposed to go but backed out. So they got Elta to fill that spot. Which out of the 2 I would have preferred Misha. Cause we all know Elta is going to go for the cringe PDA kiss like she did at the con she went with him to last year. She has no reason to actually be there her character was useless. It brought nothing to the plot taking her character out changes nothing. She has nothing to contribute since she was in only 5 episodes. Also despite what she says when she claimed she knew all of Cas’s lines we all know that is a lie. Why is it a lie? Cause Jensen exposed her saying she basically only watched 5 episodes which knowing her it was the episodes she was in. Elta was in Supernatural for 2 reasons first reason she didn’t want to be a liar. Fans had asked her when was she showing up in Supernatural. She replied on Twitter if Supernatural made it to season 13 she would appear. Her character shows up Sesason 13 episode 13. Also her saying if it made it shows she had no faith in the show or her husband. The main reason she was on there is cause Gen was on there in season 4 and people talk about how she fell in love with Jared. We all know Elta tries to one up Gen every time. So she begged Jensen to get her on there. I still think someone hated her cause her character Anael take out the e it’s Anal which she can be at times. I just know Jensen’s joy will not be there. We won’t see that eye crinkling beautiful true smile of his we will see the fake one he gives when he is not feeling it.

I know I am rambling I am sorry just miffed she weasel her way into a con. But what I find hilarious is the pics they used to advertise her looks like two different people. One is her as Anael the main pic is from her early days before all the fillers and Botox. I believe it’s from her OTH days. But it looks like 2 different people there. Her “fans” want to say oh she is just getting older she didn’t have work done. Uh yeah she did have work done. If you get a picture of Danneel from OTH to now you can literally see she has work done cause she looks unrecognizable. If Jensen wasn’t with her people wouldn’t know who she is. Can’t wait to see what new face, horrible clothing choice and messy hair style she has then.

Hi anon!

Also another apology to be issued for the lateness. Life, y'know? But thanks for the message!

Now to respond/address what you've said.

I don't know if Misha was supposed to go, as I had never seen anything about him going to Wales. But it's possible. Or Elta insisted on having her own little European vacation after seeing Jared and Genevieve having fun.

That's the hard choice--which one do we want, Misha or Elta? Can neither be the answer??

God, that PDA kiss at last year was AWFUL. Cold fish kiss. Zero love, passion or chemistry.

Yeah. Anael/Sister Jo had zero reason to be in the plot. And the writers had to have known what they were doing by making Anael a materialistic bitch.

Yeah. Elta basically forced Jensen to get her added to Supernatural because she wanted to be involved, and used the Destiel fandom to harass and abuse her husband as well. She wanted the attention and loved how uncomfortable it was making Jensen. It's also why she kissed Misha's ass and gave him a lap dance.

Yes… Jensen will be miserable in Wales. I'm not looking forward to his sad smiles.

It's okay to ramble! I do it all the time! That's why my blog is titled "Ramblings of a Writer". I ramble!

Yes! No recent photos of her for them to use? Really? So they use unrecognizable ones? Haha!

Yep. She absolutely had work done, numerous times. Her hairline moving north means numerous facelifts. Her smile--called the Joker smile for a reason--shows other work having been done as she looks horrific.

She needs to lay off black. Black emphasizes nothing good on her. She needs color. She needs an actual stylist because if Marcus is responsible for past choices, he's an awful one. Get a vocal coach because her voice is just AWFUL.

And then, y'know, therapy to fix her narcissistic soul. If that even works.

I feel you, anon. I'm not looking forward to her being there at all.

I only hope Jensen will be okay.

#anti danneel #anti elta #jensen concern #jensen supportive

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redhoodinternaldialectical · 10 months ago

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5, 16, 20?

Linking the original ask post cause it took some digging to find it again lol

Something you see in fics a lot and love:

B-boysss... kissing :3

lol okay uh the overwhelming majority of what I read is jaytim that's rated Explicit, so there's, ya'know, a lot of patterns in there that I've self selected for, but attempting to get into a more meaningful answer, I really like the way that fanfic repeatedly digs up old shit and uses it as a catalyst for characters to gain greater intimacy with each other. The constant reinvention and re-contextualization of Jason and Tim's various fights is neat to me

A tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate:

Oooh I'm gonna throw up the post I already made about the guy Jason manipulated into playing puppet for him

But that feels like cheating so I also want people to appreciate the asymmetrical aspects of the OG spoiler outfit, because I adore it so. I am a SUCKER for shoulder pads/spikes and 80s asymmetrical outfits.

Your very first fandom:

That's... actually pretty hard to answer.

The first online community I truly got involved with is City of Heroes. Loved playing the game when it was live, and I role played in the Homecoming servers for fourteen hours a day, seven days a week, for about five years. I still play every once in a while too! If you see Dread Captain Bones, David Drakal, or Cowboy Cline around, those are me :3 The only issue I have with saying it's this one is that I'm not entirely sure this counts as a fandom?? It really is more a role playing community than anything like a fandom for the game itself, most people only very lightly engage with the setting and it's considered a tad crass to get any of the named canonical characters involved with your character's story lines.

We could very technically count Naruto simply because that was the first one I ever tried to find fanfic for but uhhhhh... I started with ff.net with a super dark E rated fic because I thought E meant for Everyone and bounced off it so hard. I'm very sorry geisha AU naru-sasu fic I read when I was like thirteen, I tried so hard to like you, but my PTSD was not having it lmao

There's also half decent arguments to be made for Marvel comics, Doctor Who, or Vampire the Masquerade simply because my parents are/were such massive nerds lmao

Both of them did a lot of LARP and one of my favorite pictures of my mom is her as either the Sheriff or the Prince of our city ripping someone's heart out via a sponge soaked with fake blood :3 so yeah I def grew up learning about the clans and the lore and such

And this is very much a Marvel household lol My parents used to do story time with me about the X-men, and like they are completely accepting of my metal head and queer stuff, but I feel like it hurts my dad's soul just a little bit that I ended up being so into DC and so uninterested in Marvel. Whenever we talk about some of my (not romance related) plotlines for my DC fics he'll substitute in vaguely equivalent Marvel characters because he simply cannot be asked to dedicate braincells to DC characters lmao

Me: "I'm really looking forwards to writing out how the super geniuses and stuff push the limits of what Jason and Tim did to the diseases."

My Dad, knowing FULL WELL that I am not including any Marvel characters in this fic: "Oh yeah, Reed Richards would go nuts trying to figure that shit out."

My dad also collected Doctor Who episodes, like the ones from 1963 all the way to modernity, I grew up watching the black and white stuff, and for sure tumblr did expose me to Superwholock, through I never felt like I was a part of that.

It might actually be DC comics itself that's my first fandom! I just never really interacted with any sort of online or fandom space directly until Boostle dragged me into DC fandom's sphere of influence.

Anyhow I hope my ramblings were interesting/entertaining and thank you muchly for the ask! :3

#damian's tomfoolery

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emodialisse · 2 years ago

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The guy from GamingWins really gets me, used a whole video just analyze the stupid little details that I tend to notice too.

Not sure about hater, but yeah, it's a bit sad. But at the "bright side" Doc Ock and Spider-Man's origin stories had a bit of instinct to it since the beginning (get it? Animal analogy, hah), both suffered from a radioactive accident that changed their lives but decided to follow their own path after that. And it's amazing how the game managed to bring this together rather than just implying like the comics did.

The exception is that one Tom DeFalco story where he decided to write Otto as someone who views his and Spider-Man's conflict like a cord primal thread to hold their relationship together, something that gives him purpose, to look forward to the next day.

Like Scott Snyder said in a comic con panel on his story "Death in the Family" that Joker sees Batman and him as "these two halves where he says, you love me the way I love you, and they're essential parts of one conflict and it's the only conflict that matters in Joker's mind".

So the game offers us a chance to connect with their relationship, through their mutual project together. And makes sense that said project will always mean something to them even though the concept is deep covered in many layers of hate and regret.

Yuri Lowenthal is really the perfect Peter Parker voice imo. And yet he's totally humble about it. He said in one episode of the podcast Super Conversations With Hero Mentor that he felt "terrified about playing the part and wake up everyday feeling like he was going to screw up something".

I saw many people compare this scene to Far Cry lol. Anyway, it's one of my favorite sections from the game and I have the dialogue between Otto and Peter memorized because I tried to find this full scene in other gameplays.

It's really on the nose, but I love how the sequence changes when we go further into Peter's self degrading subconscious, Bill Salyers voice acting as Doc Ock and my boy Scorpion being a creep.

I think takeout's on Otto, and Peter brings the coffee. He knows the place well, it's the Coffee Bean after all, they give him a good discount.

He gets my humor too. Call me later?

If I stop to talk about this I will get a little Pepe Silva insane, yeah. Like the first scene with Otto, he gets off the power damperer and Peter scorts him away from it, the camera pans out and instead focus on these two as to say "this is their story, yeah the Octopus arms are a product of it but give your attention to these two first".

Or when Otto first rises with the help of his arms, he prefers to hover over Peter instead of talking to an eye level, because when he does it's to give Peter false reassurance. Otto thinks his place is above everyone else, which is why is cathartic to him "for the first time in my life, I don't feel like a failure, I feel like me".

Or the many moments the camera goes back and forth to Peter and Otto like they have some sort of synergy together. Anyway, you get my point.

"I have a father, his name was Ben Parker" lol, sorry. Look, I'm not gonna call out anyone, this just my opinion, but I don't understand why people would view Otto as a father figure to Peter. It's a bit cheeky coming from the guy who ships them, I know. But it's not because of some personal vendetta I have against the trope or fanon headcanons, I just don't see the appeal. Their relationship is already pretty interesting how it is portrayed in comics and I don't think a father/son connection really brings much to the table except being pretty boring.

What I see in their relationship is something entirely transactional, until they start to see each other beyond employer and emoloyee. Otto is a very lonely guy, companionship is important to us dumb humans, so he would love to have someone like Peter to take care of to some extent, to share his knowledge, etc, someone he can be close to.

I kind of get it how the writers twisted some screws to throw in a father/son dynamic, just like Spider-Man 2 did. Not gonna try to argue against it, it's just my preference to think of them as friends and enemies with some benefits. Not saying I'm not into that father/son shit, but it's in the gross way. Sorry not sorry.

So, on the topic of their friendship imma show you another guy, this time WritingOnGames, who sums everything I said better than I can articulate here.

(Meme not exclusive from the video)

Otto has stated in an audio draft from the game that he doesn't want Peter to think he's his assistant, but his equal partner.

Although, there's still that invisible barrier, right? I don't think they use to hang out, that's for future fics I didn't finish writing, but I'm certain their socializing takes place mostly through phone calls, e-mails and their Brokeback Lab. He's Peter's boss anyway.

But the way they met was very unusual. Otto didn't even have an internship program, he just followed the word of an old friend (May).

He took interest in Peter and so they spent two years together and have shared many personal stories and dreams with each other. Peter is aware of Otto's habits and personality and vice versa:

Couldn't have said it better myself.

It shows their relationship doesn't revolve just around their work.

And once he finds out Peter is Spider-Man, he doesn't anchor himself on Peter's superiority to humankind right away. He did that later to prove his point right, to make Peter stick to his side.

Otto genuinely shows appreciation for Peter's efforts and genius, but he also admires his good will to do the right thing. In return, Peter strives to make Otto proud of him, but also wants to protect Otto from himself. Which is why he walked so many lengths just to try to take back the Otto he once knew, because it's better if he hears Otto says it was just a miscalculation, right?

Peter knows Otto did wrong to him and everyone else in New York, but still wanted to talk some sense to him, even though Otto insisted he was doing it for the greater good. They're weird, complicated and I love them.

#otto octavius #peter parker #spider man #octospider #what was the purpose of this post again #dia talks #spider man insomniac #marvels spider man

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worksinprogress1 · 1 year ago

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The silence in the cave was deafening. Cyllene stepped forward. “Very well,” she said.

T e l l m e, h o w d i d i t f e e l t o l o s e y o u r p a r e n t s?

"Telepathically?" Cyllene asked. She hadn't seen reason to think about that in ages. But as much as she didn't like how this trial was going and feared what else Mesprit might ask her to recount, Hisui needed the red chain. And if she could do it without tarnishing her image to the others, it would be for the far better.

E v e r y o n e h e r e w i l l h e a r y o u e i t h e r w a y.

Cyllene hesitated.

I f y o u c a n 't t e l l t h e m, I c a n s h o w t h e m. B u t y o u m u s t s h a r e y o u r e m o t i o n s t o p a s s t h e t r i a l.

"Show them, then."

"Hello? Who is this?" the girl asked.

The man shifted uncomfortably. "My name is General Kamado," he explained in a somber tone. "I've heard that your parents went missing."

The girl nodded. "They've been gone for two days. Have you seen them?"

"They were found impaled and their bodies dragged into the underbrush. Most likely a random act by Jhotoian ninjas. I'm sorry."

"Do you have any relatives that would take you in?" Kamado asked. "I'm sure there must be neighbours, at least."

The girl didn't even look up. Kamado took her in his arms and brought her in close, allowing her to bury her face in his chest.

Cyllene shut her eyes tight. Rei thought of her as so brave and heroic. This would change that. More importantly, it was treading far too close to things she did not want any of them to see.

Cyllene turned to the woman. "How old do I have to be to help out at the camps?"

"You'd be old enough now."

"Then I want to be where he is as soon as possible."

The scene shifted to Cyllene sitting with a group of soldiers, comically small next to most of them. "Hey, wanna learn how to fight, pipsqueak?" asked a large, red-haired young woman.

"Sure," Cyllene said. Before long they were squaring off in a field, swords in hand. Metal clashed against metal, and Mesprit allowed the others to feel her excitement.

The scene shifted again to her and other soldiers in armour, marching toward a similar group of Jhotoians in a field- foot soldiers and archers to the front, with the samurai vanguard close up behind them. Thankfully, Cyllene couldn't find herself in their ranks, so it was unlikely anyone else could. But she could feel vengeful excitement in her chest, another emotion forced on her by Mesprit.

No, not this. Not in front of the clan leaders, Cyllene thought as the apparitions of archers and footsoldiers phased through their group. She didn't need them to see her as bloodthirsty.

D o y o u w i s h t o t e l l t h i s? Mesprit asked.

Just as Mesprit finished its question, a Jhotoian samurai ran, perhaps breaking formation out of panic or suicidal impulse- pushed through the Hoennian ranks. On instinct, Cyllene drew her sword to defend from the attacker, but the apparition faded right through her and attacked instead a Hoennian soldier with a stance identical to her own. The soldier struck the sword from a Jhotoian's hand, knocked them down, and lowered their blade towards their throat. A distinctly female scream came from the armored figure, whose face was hidden by a helmet.

"Stop this. I'll say it," Cyllene asserted. The bloody battlefield faded back into a peaceful cave.

Y o u 'v e k i l l e d p e o p l e, Mesprit said. H o w d i d i t f e e l?

Cyllene sheathed her sword before answering. "The only people I killed were enemy soldiers. It was my duty to Hoenn."

N o t w h a t I a s k e d.

"It... does no good to think of that... but you leave me no choice. I expected to enjoy taking revenge on Jhoto. It caught me off guard that it was a woman. I don’t know why. I don't know how many people I killed and how many I merely wounded, but severe wounding isn't always an improvement on death. I've caused screams- men, women, boys, children so young I'm not sure whether they were girls or boys. I hated Jhoto, but I did not enjoy that. It was merely necesary."

T e l l t h e m h o w i t 's h a u n t e d y o u, Mesprit ordered.

Cyllene closed her eyes and tried to put it into words she’d be willing to say. It was impossible. "Show them," Cyllene said. It was the only way she was going to complete this.

Cyllene turned her back and walked past the others. She could hear memories play out behind her. The first one was one in which, during peacetime, she’d thought a Jhotoian was attacking and Kamado had had to hold her down to keep her from hurting anyone. The jolt of panic that Mesprit forced through her shook her up so badly that nothing she heard registered after that. She was a trembling mess, hoping that the others didn’t look back at her. She wanted to tell them that that had been years ago, that she wasn’t like that anymore, that it had only caused her to be dangerous once. But there was only so much faith she could inspire in this state, and regardless, the damage was done. The damage was still being done. And she was too keyed up to even know what it was.

O n e l a s t q u e s t i o n, a n d i f y o u 'r e h o n e s t, t h e t r i a l w i l l b e c o m p l e t e. H o w d o y o u f e e l a b o u t t h i s t r i a l?

Cyllene turned back to face Mesprit, back to her steely professionalism. "This trial is an appalling waste of time and of my usefulness as a captain. The Survey Corps needs to think of me as a strong and infallible leader, and our allies need to see me as impartial and reasonable. You have helped us to save the world, but there was no reason for the cost."

Mesprit plucked out one of its plumes and handed it to Cyllene.

"Thank you," Cyllene said. Thankfully, the loathesome creature faded away after that.

"Our next location is in the Coronet Highlands. We'll travel on our flying Pokémon and stay low enough to find the rest of the Survey Corps. With any luck they will be gathered at the ruins Cogita described," Cyllene commanded the others, voice steady. She turned to exit the cave and began walking past the others, averting her eyes from whatever reactions they might have had. "You will follow me until the sky is fixed. Do what you will afterward. But do not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do not speak of it."

"Y-you got it, ma'am," Rei replied, "None of it leaves this cave!"

Outside the cave, the red sky persisted, painting the landscape in its oppressive gloom. It was all the reminder Cyllene needed that now was the time to focus on the immediate.

The flight was short, and before long the six landed in front of Cogita and around two dozen Survey Corp members.

"Ah, there you are," said Cogita. "Did you bring the keys from the lake trio?"

"Yes," Cyllene said, digging out the plume and Rei and Laventon did the same with their respective supplies.

"Perfect. While you gone, I led the Survey Corps to harvest enough origin ore to make a few pokéballs from the red chain. We discussed it and we think that would be the best use for it."

Cogita turned back to the group. "There. Now, what do you say, Survey Corps? Shall we do the crafting ourselves and allow these six a chance to rest? The lake trials couldn't have been easy. And lord knows that you have quite the challenge ahead of you."

"Thank you, Cogita, Cyllene said.

It wasn't far to the Galaxy Team's nearest encampment, where the group started a fire and put on some food. There were many noises from Pokémon as the less intelligent ones played outside their balls and the cleverer ones bayed at the foreign sky. It was loud enough to save them from attempting to make awkward conversation to distract one another from the reality of facing their allies or fellow Galaxy Team members.

While Cyllene tended the fire, Laventon sent out the strange trio of Pokémon he’d brought- the specimens he called a rotom-mow, a porygon-Z, and a bronzong.

The three Pokémon looked at each other and appeared to laugh at him before joining the other Pokémon in the encampment at their play.

Laventon sighed and sat down next to Cyllene. “Perhaps bringing them wasn’t my wisest move. But I couldn’t have forgiven myself if I found out later that they could have saved us!.”

“You have your typhlosion. That will be enough if you are separated from the group.”

"Do you want to go for a little walk, captain?"

"No," she said firmly, looking back to the fire.

"Please?"

Cyllene sighed. "Fine," she answered, getting to her feet.

Cyllene led the way into the pines, eyes forward.

"You know, you're nothing special to me," Laventon said. "Er, um, I mean, you're nothing different to me. Um, wait." Laventon sighed heavily. "What I mean, captain, is that I studied in Jhoto. My work had nothing to do with the war, but I met plenty of people who were affected by it.”

“And you can use that information to decide whatever you please once the world is saved. Until then, you follow me regardless of how it bothers you that I could have been the one to hurt some of those people.”

“That isn’t what I meant at all. You're not anything I couldn't understand. And even if you were, you've proven yourself as a leader. Nothing we saw in that cave changes that for any of us. I know them enough to be sure of that."

Cyllene stopped dead. She knew she was a good leader, both in action and appearance, both of which were extremely important. She had not known that she had allies and subordinates so loyal that such a failure in appearance wouldn't shake their loyalty. But Laventon knew how others thought. He was far better at that than she was. If that's what he saw, and if he were telling the truth, then he was probably correct.

"Thank you," she said.

"Of course. We need you clear-headed for what's ahead, after all!"

Cyllene could imagine Laventon's sweet smile before she even looked back to see it.

"Laventon. You are my subordinate, and as such I wanted to keep an image to you. But, now that there are no secrets... I want you to know that I..." Cyllene closed her eyes and grit her teeth as though in pain. "I love you. If we survive this, and you feel the same way, I would like to be with you."

Laventon crossed the space between them and kissed her on the lips. Cyllene relaxed immediately and reciprocated, running a hand through his curly hair. When they separated, she was bewildered for a moment. Soon, they would be heading up the mountain, possibly to their doom. But they had this moment, and that was something worth treasuring.

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