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natromanxoff · 3 years

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Queen live at Elland Road in Leeds, UK - May 29, 1982 (Part-2)

Fan Stories

“We got a coach from my home town (about 2 hours from memory) and drank an ocean of lager on the way, by the time we got there we needed the toilet so badly we could have exploded! We got into the stadium and waited for the first band of the day. Soon enough a not very well known (to me) American band came on called Heart. They weren't bad but did nothing for me. Then came The Teardrop Explodes who tried and who I reckoned did quite well despite the flying bottles of liquid being hurled at them from the crowd. After them was Joan Jett complete with Blackhearts who got the crowd going with "I Love Rock'n'Roll" mainly because Brian appeared at the side of the stage with his daughter to have a look. Eventually after a long wait the stage lights dimmed and a strange cranking sound started up and then you were suddenly aware of the drum beat to Flash thumping out and spotlights chasing around the stadium. This went on for a minute or so and the excitement was unbearable. All of a sudden in an explosion of smoke, lights, guitars, drums... Brian, John and Roger are there blasting out the opening part of The Hero. Seconds later in a gleaming white leather jacket out runs Freddie and it begins... A moment I will never forget along with many others from Queen shows since and before it. I can't say which show was my favourite as I loved them all but that moment WAS Queen, the sheer power, the anticipation, the fantastic musical ability and above all else the way they gave people what they crave more than anything... wonderful memories.” - whiteman

“29th May 1982 - a really nice warm day. We only lived a few miles away so walked down to Elland Road - I can't believe it - Queen live in my home town at the home of the greatest football team in the country (well maybe not now!). Got to the ground early and were allowed in by security, such a relaxed atmosphere. Saw band's soundcheck - great! So hot sun, never went behind stadium roofs. Got best suntan I have ever had! Heard Teardrop Explodes - not bad. Then you are aware of the beat of flash thumping out around the stadium, the smoke rises and bang - they are on! The greatest gig I have ever seen from the greatest live band in history. God bless you, Brian, Roger and John. Rest in peace, Freddie - we will never forget.” - Michael Quine

“This was my second ever gig, the first being Rory Gallagher the year before (I am sure I once read that Rory was one of Brian May's favourite guitarists). Anyway, being only 14 and not yet in the habit of getting off my face at gigs,I can remember that day very clearly. I am convinced I saw someone throw a hamburger at Julian Cope (Teardrop Explodes were going down like a lead balloon), and just as Julian was opening his gob to sing, he CAUGHT IT IN HIS MOUTH. A huge cheer went up, then they stomped off. Somebody, possibly Queen's manager, came on and told everbody to behave. I also remember a fan getting on stage and Freddie expertly rolling him off the stage. I didnt like the Hot Space album much but was chuffed they were still a hard rock band. I bought the next edition of Kerrang mag and the write up of the gig said STUNNING. Great memory.” - Edwin

“I was 15 years old in 1982 when I attended my first ever concert. Fortunately for me, it was QUEEN's show at Leeds AFC ground in the North of England. I remember when my ticket arrived in the post, possibly 2-3 months before the concert, as was often the case in those days. I stuck my ticket on a cork notice board in my bedroom and could barely contain my excitement over the coming weeks. Every morning, I would wake up and look at the yellow ticket, wishing the days away. I imagined everything that could go wrong would. Queen would cancel the gig, I would break my leg, the family pet would die on the morning of the concert and it would be too insensitive of me to go, the transport wouldn't turn up or would break down, there would be a pile up on the motorway, I'd lose my ticket en route, etc, etc. As it turned out, May 29th 1982 was a hot and sunny day, perfect weather for an outdoor gig. I was CRAZY about Queen and had been since the age of 9 but I really didn't know what to expect on that day. Myself and three friends took a coach organised by my Dad's company from Lancashire across the M62 motorway to Leeds. Our excitement began to really take a hold when we arrived at the football ground and we followed the droves of people towards the turnstiles. To me, this was something on a really big scale and I could already hear the hum of the crowd inside. Not really believing that we were actually about to witness a Queen concert, we found our seats on the West Stand, offering a great view of the stage. I remember marvelling at Queen's new lighting rig and the equipment that adorned the stage, shining in the afternoon sunshine. The ground was almost full at this point and the pitch was heaving with people. The atmosphere was relaxed as people bathed in the sunshine. I remember two guys climbing the fence from the stand and attempting to get a better spot by running into the crowd and losing themselves on the pitch. Their efforts were in vain however as they were quickly located and ejected back into the stand by two security guards. We bought some black Hot Space tour shirts (I wore mine with pride until it literally fell apart) and a programme from a vendor inside the ground and waited for the first band to take the stage. A guy near us shouted and punched his way through Heart's set and then left just as they vacated the stage. Obviously not a Queen fan! The Teardrop Explodes suffered at the hands of the Queen congregation and found themselves battling against a shower of bottles and assorted missiles. Other than that, I don't really remember much about the support bands. I think that Bow Wow Wow were billed to play (an odd choice) but I can't recall if they actually turned up. No matter, we were about to witness what is still one of the best gigs I have ever attended.

As the dusk descended upon us, the giant floodlights were extinguished one by one and the memory of the roar that followed still sends shivers down my spine. Dry ice drifted across the heads of the crowd on the pitch as the intro tape of Flash thumped out of the PA and the strange 'grating' noises added to the recording created a foreboding atmosphere. Two of our party were on the pitch and to this day remember their chests thumping in unison to the powerful rhythm. A sea of hands clapped in perfect time to the beat. To me, this was already an amazing experience. And then the big moment. Freddie, resplendent in dazzling white made his entrance to The Hero and the blaze of the lights. An apt number to start with. Before he had even sung a note, the audience were locked tightly in the palm of his hand. Such an entrance, such a showman. "You're a F***in amazing crowd", he exclaimed after the first rush. The beginning of the gig is, in truth, my strongest memory of the show itself. In particular, the "Flash!!!" vocals cutting through the night air with so much volume. I recall being shocked at the sheer power of Queen's performance and the clarity of the huge sound they harnessed. Morgan Fisher's keyboards during 'Action This Day' sounded bright and hypnotic. Freddie's intro to Fat Bottomed Girls caused quite a response too; "the bigger the t*t the better it is!". I also remember the follow spots darting wildly over the crowd during 'Tie Your Mother Down' and everybody going crazy. Oddly enough (and this is something I still swear by to this day), I was in a Maths lesson at school the following Monday and I swear I had a flashback of this and could actually 'hear' the music being re-played in my head. It was a weird moment and life was never quite the same again. We talked endlessly about our experience for months to come and one of my biggest regrets is not jumping on a train to attend the filmed Milton Keynes show a week later. Having been to so many gigs since, I can honestly say that there is nobody who has been able to top Queen live; I was lucky enough to see the band five times between 1982 and 1986, including Wembley Stadium and their last show at Knebworth. I think that my personal favourite was their performance at the NEC in Birmingham on 'The Works' tour in 1984. People were literally stood there with open mouths, unable to believe how good they were. Leeds is definitely up there too. I recall Brian May stating that he thought it was one of their best performances ever. I can't argue with that Mr May. I've often wondered if an audience shot cine film or even just photographs exist from the Leeds gig. It would be a dream come true to see my memories come to life again.” - Keith Lambert

“I can't believe it was 30 years ago that I attended my first ever gig at Elland Rd Leeds in 1982. I was 17 years old at the time, I was into Queen when I first heard seven seas of rhye, which was so different to all the other stuff around at the time. I'd heard them live on tv, and had Live Killers. Also I used to buy bootleg cassettes of all of their tours from 74 onwards. But nothing could prepare me for that day. They should have played this gig at Old Trafford Manchester, my home town, so I was gutted when the residents opposed it. Tickets were very easy to come by, believe it or not, cos Queen were not seen as a relevant band at that time. Also touring the Hot Space album didn't seem to excite anybody. So, Billy no mates had to go on his own, haha. My memory is a bit hazy, but I will try my best. I got to the ground about 1pm, and was lucky enough to have a pitch ticket. I got right to the front, well about 10 yards from the stage, slightly off centre and to the right. If I told you I never moved from that spot all day and never spoke to anyone, would you believe me? One of the reasons for this is the rivalry between Manchester and Leeds, also I was only a kid, haha. Not sure who was first on, probably Teardrop Explodes, Julian Cope, I remember while they were throwing bottles at him, picked one up and started hitting himself with it and stretching his arms out saying he was an Argentinian bomber or something. It was during the Falklands war, remember. Then Heart came on, not really my cup of tea, and I had a lie down on the tarpaulin and tried to go to sleep. Then Joan Jett, who was better than the rest, but not really exciting. During the band changes, I remember the roadies polishing Roger's drum kit and climbing up ropes and those threepronged lights, which before I saw them move I thought they were cameras. Queen took ages to come on. From my recollection and I might be wrong, they didn't come on until 10pm and went off around Midnight. I heard later that they got fined so much per minute for being late on stage but they wanted to wait until it was dark for the lighting rig to take effect. If you watch the Bowl DVD you will notice it was light when they came on stage there. But that was being filmed by Channel 4. But it was absolutely pitch black when they came on stage at Leeds. Then the floodlights went off, smoke started to appear and strange noises started, which I can't describe, sorry. Then Flash's Theme started, it was loud, very, very loud. I knew they were supposed to be loud and this was the part that scared me. The ground was thumping, the bass just pumping away. The these 'cameras' flicked into life, with men on them. The intro seemed to last for a very long time. Then BANG Brian appears with the first chord of The Hero and a flash of the biggest white light I've ever seen and will never forget and the absolute loudest noise I have ever heard just hit me. The intro was quite in comparrision to this. When I play Live at the Bowl, I tend to repeat the intro and The Hero, virtually every time, because it was definitely a life changing experience for me at that moment, just incredible. Then Freddie appeared in brilliant white again, I was that close, I swear His hair seemed blue because of the mass of white lights. His voice, so loud, so clear, honestly, I can't describe that moment properly. I heard Freddie swear, saw Roger spitting, quite a lot, over his drum kit and onto the stage, I was bewildered.

When they did Play The Game and also Somebody To Love, when Freddie was doing the intros for them and it will sound strange to those that weren't there, but I didn't know what the songs were. I thought they was new unreleased songs. The reason was they was so loud, It kind of deafened you and then kind of sunk in what they were about to play. Then the rest of the gig flew by and I was singing my head off. Everyone was, but you could only hear Queen. Again my memory may be wrong, but I read afterwards that Queen had paid for residents to move out of their homes for the day. These houses were monitored and they said that the sound was like Concorde flying 10 feet over your head... Yep I will buy that. For all that and for all the bad things said about it, The Works tour, which I went to all the 4 origional England gigs they had planned, was the best tour they ever did. The set list was fantastic and the lighting rig was incredible. Not as loud, I also add. I also saw them in Manchester, 86. They had to be off stage by 10pm and noise levels had to be adhered to. I was too far awy to see them and the screens didn't come on because it was too light. Also I couldn't here them properly. I've watched the mMagic Tour gigs on DVD etc, but for me, that was the poorest tour they ever did. So that's it, hopefully some of you can confirm my bad memory, or say I'm wrong. Hopefully not bored you all. But it was the greatest musical experience I ever witnessed and I am proud I was there.” - Paul Wakefield

Part-1

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#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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gunterfan1992 · 4 years

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Episode Review: ‘Obsidian’ (Distant Lands, Ep. 2)

Airdate: November 19, 2020

Story by: Jack Pendarvis, and Kate Tsang, Adam Muto, & Hanna K. Nyström

Storyboarded by: Hanna K Nyström, Anna Syvertsson, Iggy Craig, Mickey Quinn, Maya Petersen, James Campbell, & Ashlyn Anstee

Directed by: Miki Brewster (supervising), Sandra Lee (art)

Of all the many colorful characters in Adventure Time perhaps none has a more elaborate backstory than Marceline the Vampire Queen. In many ways, Marceline really was the writers’ gold goose, engendering complex story after complex story. By the time the series ended, the vampire’s life had in more ways than one been woven into the very fabric of the show’s mythology.

But because I am a Marceline fanboy—whose zeal for her majesty is rivaled perhaps only by Glassboy himself—I always felt like the show could have done even more with her backstory; I mean, when the series finale aired, there were still plenty of questions that had yet to be answered (What happened to her mom? What is Simon going to do now that he’s “cured”? How did Marcy and Bubblegum meet? Were they romantically involved before the events of the main series? How did it all go south?). Nevertheless, when "Island Song” played for the last time at the end of “Come Along with Me,” I forced myself to push aside this minor, fannish grievance and applaud the show for writing such an excellent character. I didn’t need for every last detail of her life to be explicitly shown on screen. I was happy.

But then, about a year ago, news dropped that one of the Distant Lands specials would really delve into the history of Marceline and Bubblegum’s relationship. In an instant, I tossed my stoic “I-am-satisified-with-what-I-received” mentality right out the window. We were going to get another Marceline episode, and it was going to dive back into her elaborate backstory!?! I could barely contain my excitement as I waited for the episode to drop.

Well, was my excitement worth it? Or was “Obsidian” a big ol’ let down—a tragic victim to grandiose expectations that were never meant to be fulfilled?

I’m quite happy to say that not only was “Obsidian” a remarkable special in its own right, but it is arguably one of the strongest episodes of Adventure Time, period.

The plot of this episode is fairly standard, as far as Adventure Time episodes go: Glassboy (a new character voiced by Michaela Dietz, the voice of Amethyst from Steven Universe) accidentally sets a giant fire monster named Molto Larvo loose on the Glass Kingdom, and Marceline and Bubblegum—who we learn have been living their best cottagecore life together in Marcy’s cavehouse—are forced to save the day. But the series’ writers take this otherwise quotidian adventure idea—a story which, at least on paper, could have easily fit in during any of the show’s many seasons—and employ it as something of a Trojan Horse, using it as a pretense to delve into both Marcy’s traumatic childhood and her and Bubblegum’s romantic history. And, boy, is it a ride!

With regard to the former story thread, the audience learns that sometime after the Mushroom Bomb detonated, Marceline and her mother, Elise (voiced this time not by Rebecca Sugar, but by actress Erica Luttrell, who played Sapphire in Steven Universe), roamed the wastelands in search of shelter; after Marceline’s mother came down with some sort of sickness, she sent Marceline to be on her own. Elise was hoping that this would spare Marcy the trauma of seeing her mother die before her very eyes, but due to some communication issues, Marceline never learned what became of her mother. As such, Marceline began blaming herself for “leaving” her mom to die in the wreckage of the world. This plot thread is perhaps one of the bleakest that Adventure Time has ever explored, and the show does it masterfully, balancing the darkness (e.g., Marceline’s mother coughing up blood) with bright spots of comedy (e.g., the "wazzup” dog) that never feel distasteful.

Likewise, when it comes to the story thread about Marcy and Bubblegum’s romantic history, the special does not hold back. We get to see “Bubbline” at its best and its worst. I have a feeling that the word “fan service” is going to be used by a lot of folks when talking about this episode. As the AV Club writer William Hughes notes, this word is usually hurled around like a pejorative, but it aptly describes the appeal of “Obsidian”. After all, this episode really is “fan service at its finest”—not only does it give the ravenous shippers the story tidbits that they have so long to see (e.g., the moment Marcy gave Bubblegum her rock shirt, Bubbline’s epic break-up), but—and this is very important—it does so in a way that is fundamentally meaningful. “Obsidian” does not feel self-indulgent, unnecessary, or pandering. On the contrary, it is overflowing with deep emotion that allows us to better understand how Bubblegum and Marceline really feel about one another. Sure, over the centuries that the two gals have bummed around Ooo, they have bickered and fought, but deep down, their love is passionate. In many ways, it is like the titular obsidian, which means that nothing short of an enchanted diamond pickax is strong enough to break Bubbline apart for good.

(It’s also quite nice that after seasons and seasons of tip-toeing around the question of Marceline and Bubblegum’s sexuality, “Obsidian” can explicitly focus on their life together, showing the two characters cuddling, kissing, and dancing. In terms of LGBTQ+ representation, it’s a huge leap forward, and I’m so happy that Adventure Time has had a part to play in normalizing queer relationships!)

Marceline episodes almost always featured a catchy diddy, but "Obsidian” really cranks things up to 11 by featuring a whole bevy of catchy songs, several of which are perhaps among the show’s strongest. The first right banger, “It’s Funny,” is the song that plays over the special’s credits. With a grunge-meets-riot grrrl feels, this track really sets the tone for the episode, signaling to the audience that we’re in for, as Lumpy Space Princess once put it, some “drama bombs.” The next standout is “Woke Up,” a brutally honest diss track that Marceline used both to contain Molto Larvo and break up with Princess Bubblegum centuries prior to the start of this episode. This song was written by pop rocker Zuzu, and it—as the kids say—slaps. Layers of fuzzed-out guitar and digitally processed vocals are used expertly to sell Marceline’s emotions and convey how, on the surface, she’s delighted to no longer be under Bubblegum’s romantic spell... even if her heart may not be so sure.

But arguably, the musical jewel of the entire special is “Monster,” a somber ballad that Marceline sings to Bubblegum when they find themselves trapped in the collapsing furnace and are facing what they believe is certain death. Written by indie pop artist Half Shy, this song is, in many ways, something of the inverse of “Woke Up”: soft, happy, and filled to the brim with a sort of love that few are lucky to receive and even fewer can honestly express. Not only does “Monster” finally cement Marceline’s real, visceral love for Bubblegum in song form (remember: almost every prior Bubbline song was either indirect or delivered by an angsty, heartbroken Marceline), but it also “tames” Molto Larvo, allowing him to metamorphose into a strange but harmless cat-butterfly critter. Just like “Come Along with Me,” “Obsidian” proves that the power of love and music will save us in the end—if not physically, then at least emotionally.

Regarding the production-side of things, there’s a lot of praise to doll out. First off, the look and style of “Obsidian” is gorgeous. While “BMO” opted to experiment somewhat with the classic Adventure Time art style, trading cel shading for an almost watercolor feel, “Obsidian” echoes the aesthetic of the original series. That said, there’s an undeniable animation bump—likely courtesy of that sweet, sweet HBO money—that lets Ooo and its denizens shine in all their glory. You can tell that Adam Muto, art director Sandra Lee, supervising director Miki Brewster, and all the members of the production staff really went above and beyond the call of duty. The episode's soundtrack, composed by Amanda Jones, as deserves a shout-out. Jones did an excellent job mixing the chiptune style of the original series with a bass-heavy rock sound that highlights Marceline’s starring role. Bravo!

As another production aside, I should point out that CN/HBO’s decision to make these specials each 44 minutes was the right call. The 11 minute format of the original series often left something to be desired when it came to plot development, as many an important episode was forced to end somewhat prematurely due to time constraints; conversely, the 8-episode miniseries format that the show experimented with during its latter days sometimes felt like too much time (Stakes, Islands, and Elements all had whole episodes that felt like nothing more than the show treading water). The length of “Obsidian”, however, was just right, giving us plenty of time to take in what was happening without ever feeling like it was dragging.

A final aspect of this episode that is worth mention is its many call-backs to previous episodes and characters. “BMO” was mostly a self-contained story that, due to its nature as a prequel in space, really couldn’t reference the Land of Ooo without feeling forced. “Obsidian,” however, throws in everything and the kitchen sink (Adventure Time superfan and all-around cool person Jagm has collected most of them here for those of you who want to see everything laid out nicely). Stand-outs for me include Choose Goose (someone who we really haven’t seen since season five) smuggling sketchy products into the Candy Kingdom, post-Ice King Simon trying his hand at open mic nights, Bronwyn as an adventurous hero, and Finn the (Adult!) Human complete with beard and scars! Of note, Jake does not appear in this episode, except as a tattoo on Finn’s chest. Many in the fandom are now speculating that the events of “Obsidian” take place after our beloved shapeshifting dog’s death. Oh say it ain’t so! Perhaps we’ll learn more in “Together Again.”

Mushroom War Evidence: Unlike “BMO,” which directly referenced the Mushroom War and its fallout (both literally and figuratively), this episode returned to the show’s roots by featuring gobs of explicit hints in throw-away lines or elaborate background pieces. Honestly, there is far too many to list here in a pithy paragraph, but some major references include: the reveal that the Glass Kingdom, like the Fire Kingdom, was created by ‘magic’ blaze from the heavens (almost certainly a nuke); the fact that Marceline and her mother wandered for a time in the debris-filled wastelands following the apocalypse; and the reveal that Marceline spent at least part of her childhood holed up in a bomb shelter surrounded by the bones of myriad dead humans. Honestly, while references to the Mushroom War have always been sad footnotes to an otherwise cheery show; in this episode, however, the references are very graphic, illustrating the sorrow and horror of mutagenic war.

Final Grade: As I said earlier, I’m a Marcy fanboy, so I’m horrible biased, but I don’t care. This episode rocked. Q.E.D.

#adventure time #atimers #adventure time distant lands #distant lands #atdl #obsidian #marceline the vampire queen #marceline #bubblegum #princess bubblegum #bubbline #adam muto #hanna k #hanna k. nyström #jack pendarvis

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jkl-fff · 3 years

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Dipper and Norman, #50

Thanks for the prompt!

Comedy Golem

It was a rest stop like any other in the Northeast. Just a gas station with some picnic tables, surrounded by deciduous woodlands. But the car pulled into it all the same. Two young men—partners in work, partners in life, and partners not infrequently in actions of questionable legality (although “crime” was such a strong word)—then set themselves up at one of the picnic tables, producing sodas and sandwiches from a cooler.

Laying out a map of the Northeast, Dipper gestured towards a sizeable splotch of green in upper Pennsylvania. It was labeled “Alleghany National Forest”, its shape vaguely reminded Norman of an elephant’s head (with an upraised trunk), and it was clearly the epicenter of a wide swath of red post-its marked with names and some rather recent dates. “As you can see, we’ve got its—his? her? their? whatever—probable location pretty well pinned down.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Norman replied around a bite of sandwich. His tone was deadpan, as it usually was (perhaps an occupational hazard of being a Medium … or of spending most of his time around the Pines family and their own special brand of insanity). “Practically pinpoint accuracy, in fact. Only … 1000 square miles of untamed woodlands for us to search.”

“Pff! Untamed,” Dipper scoffed with the kind of elitist scorn only heard from people who hail from west of the Rockies whenever the subject of Appalachia’s wilderness is broached. “Right. Which means we might get as low as three bars during our investigation. How perilous. Besides, it’s barely even 800 square miles—I checked.”

“Of course you did.”

“But, nah, I think I’ve actually narrowed down the location even further. To riiiiiight … here.”

Norman craned his neck to read the spot his friend tapped (after lifting aside the veritable blanket of red post-its covering it, as it was the center of the epicenter). “… Squirrely Stars Campground. Huh. That why they call this thing ‘the Squirrel Hill Golem’?”

“Nah, that’s because the first sighting was in a neighborhood of Pittsburgh called Squirrel Hill.”

“… You’re yanking my chain. You’ve gotta be.”

“Nope.” Dipper gestured to that segment of the map. “Read it and gape in bewilderment. But, considering Pittsburgh has a massive Jewish population and that’s one of its major sectors, sorta makes sense a Golem would first come outta there. My research suggests it was a Rabbi named Mahara Chelmman who made it back in 1997 (although she wasn’t a Rabbi at the time she made the Golem), but that’s not 100% verified; could’ve been two other people.”

Norman considered that, and it all sounded reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate, since he was dealing with a Pines here. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “… So did the Golem run off from Pittsburgh a la f-Frankenstein’s Monster upon being rejected by its … Um. How ‘bout we just use a Third-Person, Singular ‘they’ for now?”

“Works for me.”

“Okay. Yada-yada, Frankenstein’s Monster rejected by their creator?”

That got a shrug in response. “Hard to say. Most accounts suggest everyone was cool with them. They might’ve just, like, decided they wanted to live their own life? It was the 90s …”

“So they ran off into the woods of Northern Pennsylvania for the next … twenty-ish years. Sure. Why not? Lots of mud out here—Golems do need m-mud, right?”

“It helps. Makes it easier for them to, like, heal or regenerate and such. Anyway, I’m thinking you will infiltrate the camp and blend in there—”

“Squirrely Stars,” Norman couldn’t help but smirk at the dumb name.

“—to find out what the people there know, maybe interview some Ghosts, too, if there are any. It’s where the highest concentration of sightings are clustered, so someone’s gotta be able to give us something workable.”

Norman nodded his assent. “Makes sense. I’m g-generally better at talking to people—”

“Right? Those were my thoughts exactly!” Dipper hastened to agree.

“—and not like you can communicate with Ghosts 97% of the time, anyway. What about you, though? If I’m doing the people-work at camp, what’re you gonna be doing?”

“Trek around the area out a ways from the camp. See what traces of the Golem I can forestry up. Footprints, magical energies, that sorta thing. Leg-work while you do the people-work. Also makes sense, right, since I’m better at that kinda stuff anyway?” Dipper asked. In a tone of voice that was … almost leading.

Which instantly made Norman a bit suspicious. But there wasn’t anything in that assessment either of them could disagree with, so he had to concede, “… I suppose you’re better at all the, um, stuff out in the woods—”

“Great!” Dipper was already halfway back to the car. “Let’s get moving! I’ll drop you off there.”

***TWO HOURS LATER*** PARKED OUTSIDE THE ENTRANCE TO A DIRT ROAD BENEATH A SIGN READING “SQUIRRELY STARS CAMPGROUND WARNING: NATURIST PROPERTY”

“Okay, but WHY do I have to be NAKED?!” Norman shrilled at the young man he had, until roughly five seconds ago, thought would always be his partner in life. Whereas now he was thinking that young man was about to be his former partner in life. Because he might kill him. Just straight-up murder him with a hefty tree branch or a sharp rock or maybe his bare hands.

Being a Medium meant their relationship wouldn’t have to end at death, true, but you couldn’t exactly call someone your “life partner” if they were dead. Especially if because you killed them by repeatedly smacking their face into the steering wheel or hurling them right into the sun or strangling them with their own seatbelt. That tended to sour most relationships.

“Look, I realize—”

“WHY does ANYONE have to be NAKED?!”

“Because it’s a nudist colony. Or … Well, maybe ‘nudist resort’ is more accurate?” Dipper mused aloud to himself. “Meh. Either way, ‘cause that’s the no-dress code here.”

“But WHY do I have to be NAKED?!”

“How else are you gonna infiltrate and then blend in at a nudist colony and/or resort? C’mon, man, you gotta think logically about this.”

“Yeah, but … WHY does ANYONE who is ME have to be NAKED?!”

“They prob’ly won’t talk to you if you’re not,” Dipper explained, his manner reasonable enough. For a given value of reasonable, at any rate. A very negotiable given value of reasonable. “Like, you’d make them uncomfortable .”

“Oh, well, I c-certainly wouldn’t want them to be uncomfortable!” Norman retorted witheringly.

“It won’t be for long. Just long enough to, y’know, fit in a little and scrounge some info.”

“Never worried about fitting in before,” Norman grumbled. “Don’t see why I should start now. Anyway, if this’s so easy, why aren’t y-you doing it?”

“You said it yourself: You’re better at talking to people, I’m better at ‘all the stuff in the woods’.” And Dipper couldn’t keep a grin from spreading across his face as he quoted him.

“… I hate you soo much right now.”

Dipper shrugged. “That’s fair. But, seriously though, it’s safer this way, too, ‘cause I’m Jewish.”

Norman blinked. Then he blinked again. “… What?”

“I’m Jewish, so the Golem won’t try to hurt me if they’re acting, like, confrontational.”

Norman shook his head. “Okay, no, I’m calling bullshit on that.”

“Dude, you know I’m Jew—”

“No, yes, I know you’re Jewish,” Norman snapped impatiently. “I mean I’m calling b-bullshit on that being some sorta, like, pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic protection from Golems.”

“Golems exist to protect Jewish people,” Dipper countered, a little condescendingly. “They, like, physically can’t hurt us. Everybody knows that—it’s the first thing you learn about Golems.”

“Even assuming that’s true—and I don’t assume it, in fact, I contest it—how in the 79 Hells’re you supposed, like, to prove your Jewishness (especially to a vaguely humanoid shape made outta mud)? You gotta yarmulke on under that stupid cap of yours I don’t know about?”

“First of all: screw you, my cap is iconic.” Dipper even took a moment to admire his reflection in the rearview mirror, straightened his cap ever so slightly, and made fingerguns at himself. “Second of all: I’ll just say a birkhot or something. Ooo! Maybe even one of the secret ones from the Kabballah! Though a regular one’d prob’ly work fine.”

“Oh, please, I c-could do that. Doesn’t prove anyth—”

“No, you could not. You don’t even know what a birkhot is.”

“It’s like … a prayer and magic incantation rolled into one,” Norman replied (albeit hesitantly).

“Pff! No, that’s not what a bir—”

“In fact, I’m 100% certain I’ve heard you describe birkhots exactly that way,” Norman asserted, not hesitant any longer. “Same way you d-describe the other (and I quote) ‘sorta pseudo-mystical-religious-ethnic spells and incantations and stuff’ you’ve got memorized in pre-Catholic Latin and Ancient Greek and Old Nordic for whenever we gotta deal with a … y’know, with a demon-adjacent, supernatural entity.”

Dipper considered that a moment. Then he admitted, “Okay, maybe yeah, that does sound like something I’d say. But the point—”

“HA! Vindication!” And Norman pounded the dashboard in triumph.

“But the point is, I can recite ‘בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה' אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ מֶלֶךְ הַעוֹלָם, דָיַן הַאֱמֶת׃’ at the drop of a hat—wait! the drop of a freakin’ kippah—with all the additional, apotropaic hand signs … Whereas you can’t even do a basic exorcism or protective spell in any language.”

Norman crossed his arms and sulkily looked out the passenger window. “Well, s-some of us just t-talk to the spirits and such. Like a n-normal, polite person … w-works just fine … ” Eventually, he huffed, “Why in the 79 Hells is a Golem even hanging around a n-nudist colony?!”

“A resort, I think.”

“I will murder you,” Norman stated, as if making a solemn vow. “With … an ice cream scoop.”

“Heh! Love you, too. Soo … does that mean you’ll do it?”

“You haven’t even answered my question.”

“Honestly? No clue. I just kinda assumed the Golem turned out to be, like, a pervert? But maybe they feel more at home among other people who aren’t wearing clothes? But, anyway, will you? … C’mon, Normy-warmy,” Dipper wheedled, his voice taking on a cutesy, coaxing, pleadingly singsong tone. “Pleeeease, Normy-warmy?”

“… That is ch-cheating, and you know it.”

“Pleeeease help me with this Monster Hunt? You just gotta talk to some people (and/or Ghosts). It won’t even take that long. Heck, if the people in there are anything like me, once they see you naked, their brains’ll stop working due to awestruck amazement—”

Norman grumbled, “S-soo much cheating.”

“—and they’ll be soo mesmerized by your sexy body (and beautiful smile)—”

“Why am I dating such an honorless cheater?” But, despite his protests, Norman was blushing.

“—that they’ll be compelled to do whatever you want for, like, the rest of their lives. It’ll be quick and easy. I promise.”

Feebly, Norman made one final attempt. “…But I sunburn so easy—”

Dipper reached over to open the glove compartment. Inside was a bottle of SPF100 sunscreen.

“… Fffffine. But you owe me big.”

“Deal!”

“I’m talking, like, a solid w-week of pampering.”

“Deal!”

“Romantic dates. Fancy cooking. Back rubs on demand—”

“Deal!” And Dipper punctuated that with a kiss to Norman’s cheek. “Now strip! Oh, but you can leave your shoes and socks on (the nudists aren’t idiots, even if they are sorta nuts). And, also, they usually use backpacks for holding onto all their stuff. What with not having pockets.”

Pulling off his shirt, Norman sighed. “Why do I keep letting you talk me into stuff like this?”

#parapines #gravity falls #paranorman #dipper pines #norman babcock #dipper #norman #jewish #writing prompt #writing #magic #golem #comedy #humor #linguistics #language #folklore #arneyblay2

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zettabita · 4 years

Text

RIVALS: Thunder

Rivals Master List

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

a masaki ichijou x fem reader fic

Genre: action, romance Warnings: none! Word count: 2.6k+

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

“Shiba-san, I think I’m going to throw up.”

You clutch the shoulder of Tatsuya Shiba, First High’s best technician and the one currently servicing your CAD. With a mildly concerned look, he steadies you and walks you to the stage riser.

Around you, students hustle to and fro, working on computers, tinkering with CADs, and typing hastily on tablets—other technicians for First High. You see, it was the 2095 Nine Schools Magic Competition, and you, a bright-eyed magician hailing from a distant country, was chosen by your First High teachers and upperclassmen to represent the school for Ice Pillar Break. Not much surprise there—even amongst the Blooms students, you were considered one of the best: you learned ridiculously fast, your casting speed rivals that of Miyuki Shiba’s, and, although it wasn’t known to many, your Psion count was very, very high, making for a good starting set of talents for the flashy event. To top it off, you worked hard to keep your place in the prestigious school (one time, you had to explain to your Japanese classmates how and why you, a foreigner, topped the exam for Modern Japanese class). Unfortunately, though, your technical skills weren’t anything to write home about; you could barely calibrate a CAD to save your life. Well, that’s why you had Tatsuya with you.

“You’ll be fine. (L/N)-san. You just need to take your time.” Tatsuya reassures in his usual monotone voice. He pauses, as if thinking what to say, before adding, “Just don’t draw attention to your casting.”

Welp. Aside from the fact that it was your first match of the tournament, you were also horribly unlucky in that your opponent, Suzuki Mutsuba of Third High School, is the current shoo-in to champion Ice Pillar Break for the Newcomer’s Division. Her casting speed and aggressive tactics made her an extremely difficult opponent as she would be able to destroy the ice pillars quickly before you could even cast an offensive spell.

To overcome this, you and Tatsuya had agreed on using your speciality in Ancient Magic which would give you great burst damage and some stealth. It would, however, take a lot of time to cast, and so you had to constantly run a modern counter magic sequence to prevent getting slaughtered in the first couple of seconds while preparing for your Ancient Magic spell. The thought made you want to hurl your breakfast on Tatsuya’s shiny black shoes.

“Thanks.” You smile weakly at him. “Well, if I lose today, at least I look cute.” Tatsuya, who, as expected, barely reacted, giving you a small smile. Well, it was true. Saegusa-senpai had insisted that the Ice Pillar Break event had also become a mini-fashion show in recent years, so she and some of the other female upperclassmen took a lot of pleasure in dressing you up. You wore a modernized version of your country’s traditional garb (“I absolutely insist! You’ll be a standout,” Saegusa-senpai exclaimed one time after a meeting, imploring you to send for traditional clothes), your face in light makeup, and your hair in a bun. You knew that with your outfit, you’d surely be a standout amongst the sea of competitors in kimono and hakama.

To prevent yourself from throwing up, you had let go of Tatsuya and preoccupied yourself with fiddling with the stitching on your top, when a disembodied voice booms over the speakers in the holding room. “Mutsuba Suzuki, Third High School, versus (L/N) (F/N), First High School!”

You take a deep breath. You look back to your weeks of training: the tingle of electricity prickling your skin, the feeling of power dancing at the ends of your fingertips, the mental exhaustion from practicing deadly magic for hours on end. You remember the day you first boarded the plane for Japan at the behest of your government, scared that you wouldn’t make it in the suffocatingly competitive atmosphere of First High. You breathe in this moment now: you, who has made it this far and who will make it even further. Suddenly, you don’t feel like throwing up anymore.

“Go on and show them.” Tatsuya hands you your device, slender and silver, and your talisman, a pair of black gloves with a red inscription on the palm. You look into his blue eyes and see absolute certainty. In you, perhaps? There was no time to contemplate, so you take the device and put on the gloves, shooting him an eager grin as the platform begins to rise. “Yes, yes.”

You emerge into the light, your chin held high.

-------

“Oi, Masaki, it’s the foreigner girl!”

“Mm.” Masaki Ichijou, scion of the Ichijou clan and freshman ace of Third High School, looks up from his device to George and then to you at the center of the stadium. You were something of a spectacle at this year’s Nine Magic High Schools Competition, because foreigners were so rare at magic high schools, much less at a contest of Japan’s best up-and-coming magicians.

You emerge from the riser, your stance self-assured. Judging from the large screen flashing yours and Mutsuba-san’s faces, Masaki thought you were pretty, yes, but not in that demure Japanese way. Your wide eyes were intense and serious but a little restless and some strands of your (H/C) hair loose from your bun were fluttering in the wind. You were wearing some sort of unique outfit; probably from your home country, Masaki notes, and a pair of gloves. He eyes the CAD in your hand. General-type. General-type CADs can hold a lot of Activation Sequences, but it’s taxing for the caster. You using one meant you have some skill.

“Ooh. General-type CAD. Still, she doesn’t look particularly tough.” George pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. “Do you think I should still have the others take stats?”

Masaki was certain you weren’t a lightweight: after all, your home country sent you to First for a reason, and First sent you to this competition. First High is not a school to be taken lightly. He nodded. “Yes. Just to be sure.”

Still, as good as you may be, Mutsuba-san was probably better, Masaki thought. “But I don’t think she can win against Mutsuba-san,” He adds. “She tied with me in practice once or twice, you know.”

George nods slightly. “Yes. Her control and cast speed are above average. And her specialty really is suited for this—“

The siren sounds, cutting off George and shushing the crowd. It’s time. After two counts, a screeching noise fills the air, and the match between First High and Third High begins.

On the far right, Mutsuba-san, dressed in a pink kimono, outstretches a gun-shaped CAD and begins her offense. Masaki knows what it is from his practice matches with her: Phonon Maser, an A-rank spell. A bright beam bursts forth from the barrel of her CAD and vaporizes one of your pillars. Masaki’s eyes dash to the left of the field. You wince a little, your left hand gripping your CAD tighter and your right hand tucked behind your back, but you quickly resume your steady gaze and continue casting. A sequence forms over your pillars and a dull light begins to pulse over your own ice field. Soon, Mutsuba-san’s Phonon Maser only makes dents.

“Data Fortification.” George makes a yawning motion. “Effective, but boring.”

“Hey! I use Data Fortification.” Masaki says indignantly. “And her defense is decent.”

Third’s best engineer regards his friend dryly. “Mm. But it’s not your only spell. Miss First here isn’t even attempting an offense.” He gestures to the field. He was right. You were holding your CAD high over the ice field, as if commanding them to stay frozen—and they did for the most part, receiving Mutsuba-san’s onslaught of lasers relatively well. Still, Masaki thought, you weren’t making any moves to destroy Mutsuba-san’s pillars.

“Yeah. As good as she is at defending herself, it’s useless if she doesn’t attack.” George nods in reply.

A few more seconds of the standoff between you and your opponent pass. The young Ichijou takes a quick glance around. George looked like he was getting more bored with each passing second, and he wasn’t the only one losing interest. Many other Third students in the stand who waited eagerly for you a couple of seconds ago now whisper impatiently amongst themselves, bored and unimpressed by the seemingly one-sided battle. To Masaki’s right field of view, the First High students in their stand shift uncomfortably in their seats, visibly worried about the outcome of the match. It seemed that even they didn’t know what was going on.

Masaki fixes his attention back on you who still kept up with your ironclad defense. Why did First High even bother to send someone who won’t attack, Masaki wonders. He tries searching your face, your figure, your magic for any indication of anxiety, uncertainty, or whatever one was supposed to feel whenever they were about to lose a match. With your steady gaze, (E/C) eyes fixed on the field before you, your defense magic constant in its impenetrability, you seemed too calm for someone about to lose, Masaki observes. And then it hit him.

“It’s not calmness.” He murmurs.

“What?” George gazes at Masaki quizzically. With all their years of friendship, George has pretty much gotten used to his best friend’s mutterings, especially during training—he’s heard I have to get this perfectly or I need to adjust the hydrostatic pressure far too many times in simulations—and even learned to take some of them seriously. He’s written them off as telltale marks of a genius (because he himself does the same things when he’s zoning out in his lab).

“She’s waiting for something.” It’s not calmness, Masaki thought. It was something more predatory. Staring at your face on the megascreen, he realizes that you, in all your non-aggression, were fighting back a smile.

Prompted by Masaki’s fixation, George studies your figure with the I-discovered-a-new-Cardinal-Code look on his face, the look he uses when scrutinizing a research article or examining Akane’s new outfit (It’s a well-known fact that they like each other. Masaki long ago conceded to the fact that his live-in best friend and his younger sister Akane are practically dating.) As George looks over you, his eyes widen. “Look at her right hand.”

“Huh.” Masaki studies your right arm tucked away behind your back, away from everyone’s attention. Your hand, covered by your glove with the red seal on the palm, was making some sort of small, rapid fingering motion, like you were weaving a thread or plucking multiple strings on an instrument. It was so slight and so seemingly random that even the announcers and Mutsuba-san did not even recognize.

Masaki raises an eyebrow. “That’s Ancient Magic, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Her glove is the talisman.” George leans back in his seat and crosses his arms, as if waiting for something to unfold. As he did, he glances up at the sky. He then grips Masaki’s shoulder tightly.

The young Ichijou tries to slap his best friend’s hand off. “Hey, you’re going to ruin my uniform.”

George didn’t seem to hear him. His gaze, now bewildered, was fixated on the sky. “By Kami-sama...” He whispers.

Masaki glances up with him. The sky was dark, much darker than it was minutes ago. Clouds seemed to form quickly, almost too quickly, overhead. George‘s grip on Masaki’s shoulder tightened. “Masaki, don’t watch the field, she’s casting a—“

Before he could finish his sentence, you whip out your right hand and snap your finger. A streak of pure white floods everyone’s vision and a deafening clap thunders overhead. The stadium erupts in surprised yelps from the audience. The light soon disappears, revealing you standing there on your podium, gloved right hand outstretched and a wide grin spread over your face.

Masaki hastily surveys the field, rubbing his eyes from the sudden flash of lightning. Half of Mutsuba-san’s pillars had exploded, boiling hot water sizzling on the grass around the ice field. The other half were melted to varying degrees. The ground underneath what used to be the center pillar, where the light struck, was scorched.

“Well, well.” He clicks his tongue in amazement. “Thunder Cloud.”

George’s red eyes widened. “That’s…that’s the A-class Ancient Magic that copies the natural lightning generation process...”

“Yes.” Masaki let out a sigh. He’s seen the spell before when his father worked with foreign magicians from the tropical southern regions of the Asian Union, but he’s never seen them do the little motions you did. “Father used to know a few who could cast it. They literally create cumulonimbus clouds and separate the electrons in such a way to make the lightning strike an exact point. It takes a lot of Psions but it’s highly lethal. To cast it while casting a modern spell...”

George started typing on his phone furiously. “That’s next-level. Gotta have the team take note of this.” Masaki could only nod in reply. “Now that’s why First sent her.”

Mutsuba-san looked shocked that she only had half her pillars left within a fraction of a second and scrambled to cast a defensive spell, to no avail. You had already snapped your finger again, causing a large Sequence to form in the sky, and lightning strikes the pillars, this time stronger, brighter, and hotter than the last.

The pair manage to just avert their eyes in time. There were deafeaning cheers on the right side of the stadium—probably First audience—and then they were drowned out by a crack of thunder like a whip. When the light cleared, there was nothing left of Mutsuba-san’s pillars, just the scorched ground upon which they once stood and steam rising from her side of the field. All ice and water had been vaporized.

The siren screeched loudly. “The match goes to (L/N) (F/N) of First High School!”

The stadium erupts in cheers, except for the pair’s stand, which consisted of Third students. Third High sat in stunned silence. No one had expected that you would defeat Mutsuba Suzuki, a member of the Ten Master Clans and a favorite to win the Newcomers’ Division for Ice Pillar Break in a complete wipeout. And in such a rapid and unexpected way, too.

George clicks his tongue in amazement. “Now, that’s one way to get everyone’s attention.”

“And the Clans’ attention, too.” Masaki says in a soft voice.

George glances at him and raises an eyebrow, a playful smile on his face. “Could it be that the great and super-single Ichijou Masaki is expressing his interest?”

Masaki glares at him incredulously and rolls his eyes. “Yes, George, I am extremely interested in this girl whom I’ve never met and whose background I have no idea about. What I’m saying is that defeating a member of the Master Clans is—“

The star engineer lets out a small chuckle. “Yes, yes, I know what you mean. Still…you never know, right?”

Masaki exhales loudly through his nose. “I know a lot of things, George.” He takes a quick glance back at the megascreen, which shows you practically beaming as you wave at the First High crowd, as if you didn’t just cast very taxing and very deadly magic seconds ago. ‘(L/N) (F/N)’, it says on the screen. He thinks of you, you in the moment, smiling with the thunder. He tries to speak your name in his head, pronouncing the individual syllables the way he’s heard people speak names of your descent, seeing how each sound would fit in his mouth. At the back of his mind, he thinks it fits well, but he keeps this information to himself.

George didn’t seem to notice his best friend’s thoughts wandering. “Uh-huh. Well, I should go check on Mutsuba-san’s hardware. Catch you later.” He moves towards the exit with the leaving crowd but pauses at a notification from his phone. He scans it, eyes widening for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past couple of minutes.

”What is it?” Masaki asks, just barely having snapped out of his reverie of you.

George turns to him, a wicked grin on his face. “Just got word from the team. She’s going to sub for Monolith Code.”

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

Next: Spark I

#mahouka #ichijou masaki #masaki ichijou #masaki ichijo #shiba tatsuya #tatsuya shiba #mahouka koukou no rettousei #irregular at magic high school #irregular

79 notes · View notes

softbiker · 4 years

Text

Born to Run - Chapter 17

Warnings: angst, alcohol abuse, anxiety, heartbreak, police violence (potentially triggering encounter, please heed the warning), language

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: Well, here it is. All I can do is say...I’m sorry. But I promise I’ll fix it. I decided to go ahead and post this tonight because I haven’t gotten to write much lately, I’ve been working constantly and now I’ve got a second job - so I just love getting to write and post when I can. Thank you for sticking with this story. It’s almost a year old now! As always, let me know what you think!!

“I dunno, Mom - I mean it’s not like I planned this-”

“Well, no, honey,” her mother huffed over the phone. “It doesn’t seem like you planned any of it.”

Y/N winced at the sting of her words but didn’t argue. With her phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder, she grabbed another stack of underwear and socks from the dresser and turned back towards her bed, where a suitcase lay open. A few pairs of jeans and a couple of sweaters were already folded inside. Off to one side, her toiletry bag was stuffed full - skincare and toothpaste and hair products she might not even use but tossed in anyway in her flustered packing frenzy. Her grip on the socks in her hands tightened to keep her fingers from trembling.

It had been 2 days since her fight - breakup - with Bucky. For the first 24 hours, she fell into an anxious, disorganized catatonia; she shuffled from room to room in her house, pacing and biting her nails, opening cabinets at random then promptly closing them. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her thigh, and her heart raced at a breakneck pace. If a single clear thought managed to arrange itself from the scattered clutter of her panic, it was only Bucky’s face, red-eyed and tear-stained as he pleaded with her. After splashing some water on her face and changing into sweatpants, she had put herself to bed, settling in for the longest night of her life. She tossed and turned, hearing the minutes tick by from the clock on the wall. At around 3 am, she threw off the covers in heartbroken frustration and stalked to the kitchen, setting the kettle on for tea and raiding her cabinets for any treats she could find. Thank God she still had that fancy dark chocolate she’d gotten last time she went to the city; it was the only thing her cupboards could provide in the way of comfort food. Armed with a steaming cup of lavender chamomile and an entire half-pound of dark chocolate she settled back under the covers and grabbed the T.V. Remote from her nightstand. If nothing else, she prayed Netflix could distract her, fill her mind with different faces, different voices - drown out the one that wouldn’t leave her.

She managed to doze off towards the end of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, tearful confessions playing in the background of her not-quite-dreams, and woke just before 7. A cold, clear morning greeted her through the window, the air in her room practically frigid, but something in it settled her. Quieted the static that had blurred out all thought since Bucky walked through her door the day before. With a deep breath, she threw off the covers and swung her feet out of bed, leaving the tea cup and chocolate wrapper to deal with later. It was her running shoes she reached for.

An hour and 10 kilometers later, she jogged back up her front porch steps, breathing heavy and feeling light. Her cheeks were charted from the wind, and her nose was running, but the grip on her heart had shaken loose. And as she clambered into the shower, stinging hot and billowing steam, new thoughts began to string together - thoughts for tomorrow, and the tomorrow after that.

Still in sweatpants, hair dripping, she’d scribbled down a list while she sipped her coffee. Names, to-do’s, a seed of a plan. In order, she phoned the clinic, her best friend, her residency program coordinator - and now, at last, her mom.

“I’m driving up to stay with Kat for a few days - maybe a week,” Y/N sighed, ignoring her mom’s comment. “Just to…clear my head, you know?”

“Sure, sure,” her mom agreed. “Though I don’t know why you couldn’t come here…I haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving-”

“Mom.” She closed her eyes, one hand settled on her hip. “It’s not a vacation.”

“No, sweetie, but it doesn’t hurt to come let your mom take care of you…”

Knuckles pressed to her eyelids, Y/N sat down on the edge of her bed. The old mattress creaked, as it had every night she slept in it for the last several months.

“I-I just,” she licked her dry lips and tried to swallow. “I need to be alone for a little bit, Mom. Once I’ve got it all figured out, I’ll let you know. And maybe…who knows, maybe I can come visit soon.”

“Sweetheart.” The voice on the phone is tired, resigned. “Why do you always try to do these things by yourself? You don’t have to be alone.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, her fingers curling into the fabric of her pants. She breathed slowly, warding back the lump that threatened to close off her voice.

“I’m sorry, Mom. But this time I do.”

**********

“You’ve got to go in there and wake him up-”

“I’m not doing it - I wouldn’t touch him with a 10 foot pole when he’s like this.”

“Well, someone’s got to. We’re bugging out in just a couple days-”

Heavy-eyed, and feeling like death warmed over, Bucky stirred at the sound of the voices outside his bedroom. Harsh winter sunlight burst through the blinds over his window; even before he opened his eyes it hurt. Something throbbed inside his skull, and his tongue felt thick and heavy in his parched mouth. Why the hell did he feel this bad? He couldn’t remember the last time he drank like this, to the point of blacked out nausea. His stomach roiled as he turned over, and he felt far too old to be drinking like there was no tomorrow, like he hated himself-

And then he remembered.

Y/N.

Suddenly he had no interest in getting up, getting water, getting something that would settle his stomach. He covered his face with his hands, fingers pressing firm against his eyelids and blocking out any light that came through. It was hot in his room, the combination of heating and a pile of blankets that someone had tucked him in with, but he didn’t move the covers, choosing instead to sweat underneath them.

How had he fucked up so badly? The best thing that ever happened to him - and now she was gone, baby, gone. It would’ve been alright, maybe, if Natasha had allowed him to talk to Y/N himself, but-

Natasha. Just the thought of her set his blood on fire, and he sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes flying open - only to immediately regret it as a stronger wave of nausea threatened to claim him. He quickly folded himself in half and put his head between his knees. When his head finally stopped spinning, he propped his elbows up against his knees and threaded his hands through his hair.

Already, he felt a thread of shame and guilt tugging at his gut. It wasn’t right to blame Natasha. He knew that. The lies were all his own; all Nat had done was reveal the truth.

But, God, the look on Y/N’s face - she had never looked at him that way, not even in the beginning when she was afraid he might be a criminal. It chilled him - right down to the marrow of his bones - the cold anger, the mask of disgust and disinterest that she wore to hide the way she hurt. And she did - he could see her pain cracking the ice in her eyes, no matter how she tried to hide it.

He hated himself for it.

A soft knock at the door, and Steve’s blond head poked in.

“Oh,” he said, eyebrows jumping in surprise. “You’re awake.”

Bucky’s scowl deepened as Steve and Sam kindly let themselves into his room and took up post at the foot of his bed.

“Yeah - thanks to you two. You wouldn’t know how to whisper if your life depended on it, Wilson.”

To his credit, Sam didn’t respond - merely rolled his eyes and cast an exasperated glance at Steve. With a sigh, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes down on the soft blue quilt Bucky had haphazardly wrinkled during the night.

“Look, I understand that you’re really upset right now.” Steve’s voice was soft, barely more than a murmur. “I know…I know how much she meant to you.”

Bucky felt his eyes starting to burn as he stared at his friends, and he hastily scrubbed at them with his palms, sniffing.

“But,” Steve continued, licking his lip. “We’ve got our marching orders - we’re on standby to pull out any day now. We - I - can’t have you going on binders, AWOL for 24 hours, and then stumbling in here piss drunk at 3 in the morning.”

“We thought you were dead, Barnes,” Sam added, clenching his jaw. “We’re on fuckin’ suicide watch, man. You’re gonna drink yourself to death over a breakup? Huh?”

Growling, Bucky reached behind himself for a pillow and hurled it at Sam’s head.

“Shut the fuck up-”

“No, Buck, Sam is right.” Steve’s brows were knitted together tightly. His eyes were sympathetic, but the rest of him was unflinching as stone. “You can’t do that again. What if you’d run yourself off the road, or gotten hit by a car?” Bucky scoffed, but Steve didn’t back down. Raising his voice he went on. “No, I really want you to think - would you be better off dead? Is that what you want? Is that what she would want?”

Eyes squeezed shut, Bucky saw her face right before him once again, her smiles, the way she used to look at him. The panic in her eyes during his parking lot showdown with Rumlow, the way she bit her lip when she was concentrating on something, how sleepy her eyes were in the mornings - each little piece of her, precious secrets he had tucked away in the hidden corners of his heart. He had thought, dreamed, that he had a lifetime to collect them all, fit all her parts together like a puzzle one piece at a time, and love every moment of it. Now, though. These lone pieces are all he has left, and they will never be enough.

What did she want? He knew only one thing for sure - that she was the only person who could say.

“I don’t think it matters to her either way, punk.”

**********

A few miles outside of town, just past the last lonely gas station, was the exit ramp to the interstate. The road had seen better years; the pavement was pitted with potholes and cracks, haphazardly patched with uneven lumps of asphalt that left drivers weaving between lanes and wondering which would do more damage to their tires. But, since this part of the state saw less traffic than other areas, infrastructure money was slow to trickle down towards repair and reconstruction.

Y/N had driven this road a handful of times - as she moved into town, and then when she had taken the drive a couple of times to visit her friends in the city. It was desolate enough to be a slightly depressing drive; nothing but scorched fields for miles on either side of the road, and the steep ditches that banked it on either side were overgrown with wispy stalks of dead grass. Overhead, a grey and overcast sky shadowed everything, promising a winter day best spent indoors.

She tuned in and out of a true crime podcast while she drove, hardly seeing the road in front of her. Her mind was too far gone on the events of the past few days - and everything she had to do with the coming ones. But there was something comforting here, in the grip of the wheel in her hands, a travel mug of coffee still steaming in the cupholder, an open road ahead of her. She felt…awake, present. Bruised, but not broken. And ready to get back up.

Of course, it shook her when a cop car pulled out of the overgrowth on the shoulder of the exit ramp, putting on speed to keep up with her. Mentally she reviewed her driving - still only 5 over the speed limit, her lights were on and working, her tags were in date. They had no reason to pull her over, she rationalized.

And they didn’t. The car stayed right behind her for the next 10 miles, quietly driving at her speed, keeping a couple car lengths’ distance between. No flashing lights, no sirens.

So why were her palms sweating?

After 20 miles, the sirens finally started blaring, blue and red flashes blinking in her rearview mirror. Despite being raised to respect the law, she felt nervous as she glanced back at the car, easing her foot off the accelerator, but not quite braking to pull over. She bit her lip, hesitating another few seconds as the alarm grew louder behind her. Her stomach clenched nervously.

Stop freaking out. You’re just worried about getting a ticket. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she scolded herself and gently pulled her car over to the side of the road, careful not to get too far into the muddy grass along the shoulder. Fingers fidgeting nervously on the steering wheel, she watched as the officer got out of his car and strolled up to her window at a leisurely pace. His head was shaved, and he wore dark mirrored sunglasses, in spite of the gloomy light of the day. As she rolled down her window, she squinted at his face, trying to recognize him from the adrenaline-blurred memories of the night Bucky killed Brock Rumlow - but the low slope of his cheekbones, the clean-shave, the firm-set frown are all unfamiliar to her.

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” he greeted her, one hand on his hip. It drew her eyes down towards his gun. “License and registration please.”

Instinctively, she nodded and reached towards her wallet lying in the passenger seat to dig out her license. The officer was silent, propping one hand against her car while he waited; she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears and willed herself to calm down.

Clearing her throat, she gathered her courage and spoke up.

“Excuse me, officer-” He barely glanced up from where he was perusing her car registration. “Why did you pull me over?”

He looked up at her fully at the question, shifting his stance and licking his upper lip.

“One of your tail lights is out,” he said, shoving her papers back through the window. “That’s a real safety issue.”

“My tail light…?” Her tail light - which had been changed only a month ago. She knew, because Bucky did it himself. He had always been worried about her safety; every time she was going somewhere without him, he did a full inspection of the car, testing brakes and changing the oil, going over every last inch of it and then filling up the tank with gas before she left. Last time, she’d sat in the garage nursing a cup of cider as she watched him fiddle with the lights…

She shook her head to lose the thoughts of him.

“I’m sorry, sir, but my tail lights are working just fine, I just had the bulbs changed.” She leaned forward in the seat, peering up at the officer. “Are you sure that there’s something wrong with them?”

Frown deepening even further, he crossed his arms and widened his stance.

“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to get out of the car?”

“Excuse me?”

“Get out of the car, ma’am.”

“What? Why?”

“Please, just calm down and get out of the vehicle.”

“But-” her protest broke off as he shifted his stance back, one hand inching towards the mace in his belt. She glanced at her phone, sitting in the unoccupied cupholder with her aux cable connected to it. Her fingers twitched - for a microsecond, she contemplated the very bad idea of reaching for it, refusing to get out of the car, calling-calling…someone. Someone.

But surely, if she cooperated, this would all be worked out with just a minor headache, or maybe a ticket, she reassured herself. She repeated it in her head as she unbuckled her seatbelt and opened the door, climbing out of the car carefully, her hands held out to her sides where they could be seen.

Once she was out of her car, the officer took a step forward and pushed on her door, shutting it with a resounding click.

“Okay, I’m out of the car…”

“Turn around and put your hands on the hood.”

“I’m sorry, what?” she exclaimed, hearing her voice hitch in alarm. Her eyes cast up the road and back towards the exit ramps - there were no other cars in sight. No witnesses. “Am I under arrest?”

“Shut the fuck up,” he growled, out of patience. His hand went to rest on his gun now. “Turn around and put your fucking hands on the hood of the car.”

Her fists curled and she stood her ground. She willed away her thoughts of Bucky.

“No. I haven’t broken the law, you can’t arrest me for having a tail light out-”

In a blink, his gun was up and trained directly on her.

“Put your hands on the fucking car!” he yelled, loud enough to make her wince at the volume. Her thoughts tunneled on the barrel of the gun aimed at her chest.

Wordlessly, she turned and planted her hands on the cold metal, shivering in just her sweatshirt, her winter coat tossed in the passenger seat while she was driving. The tips of her fingers went numb and her eyes watered, stung by the wind. Her dry tongue pressed against the backs of her teeth - if she tried to swallow she’d choke.

“Who are you?” Her voice shook, but she managed the words. Scared and alone, but she’d fight, goddammit. She’d fight. He would want her to fight. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

“Shut up.” A firm, cold point of pressure between her shoulder blades as he pressed the gun against her back. There was a faint buzzing sound and then the rustle of fabric; when he spoke again, it clearly wasn’t to her. “Yes, sir?” He answered his phone. “Yes - we’re on schedule. I have the package. Will confirm when its secure and en route.”

Her heart raced wildly and her mind went white with fear. What was he talking about? This had to be some kind of mistake, a misunderstanding-

Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, the butt of his gun came down against the back of her head; her vision exploded in stars, and then faded to black as she slumped against her car. Barely conscious, she felt herself being dragged away down the road, lifted and shoved into the backseat of the squad car, unceremoniously dumped with her face down against the cold leather. The engine hummed to life; a seatbelt clicked - not hers.

“Sir?” He spoke again from the front seat. “Package is secured.”

She wondered if Bucky was coming to find her. He would, she told herself. He’d come.

And then, nothing.

#bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #born to run #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #biker!bucky fic

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manggojooz · 5 years

Text

Pick A Side (Part 8)

pairing: Taehyung x reader

word count: approx. 1,500

genre: university!au; angst; romance; slice of life stuff; a bit a bit of fluff

warnings: references to school bullying; references to voyeuristic behaviour

taglist: @destiel1597 @mila271 @hopetookmysoul @ximaginx @honeyursosweet @coffeecupyoongs @bangtanbaesstuff @annoyingpessimist @betysotelo18 @okaysoplshelpme @igot7bangs @tahaing

comments: i am sorry this took so long, i just keep feeling like it’s not enough xD this was originally the second half of part 7, so it’s best read together with part 7 ^^ And also, this is what I have been trying to express through this series, I hope you will enjoy reading it!

In any high school you would be able to find two kinds of people, the one that everyone had a crush on, and the one who could only have a crush on someone. You belonged in the latter category, attributable to the biggest crush you had on a certain senior. He played baseball, he had good grades and needless to say, he was really popular. You obviously never even had a chance to speak a single word to him, all the while only looking at him from afar.

A deafening crash travelled down the empty corridor one evening, scaring the hell out of you, who had forgotten your textbook and had gone back to the empty classroom to retrieve it. You followed the noise to a secluded storage room that hardly anyone knew existed. Through the tiny gap in the windows, you peered in, seeing a boy thrown against the metal cupboards. His hair was in a mess, his eyes glassy, and his body slumped onto the ground. Another two students towered over him.

You squinted to get a better view and you were half-certain the guy on the floor was your classmate, Jinho. You were not close to him, hardly anyone was in fact. But you couldn’t just walk away. What were you supposed to do now? Do you call the teachers? Should you barge in?

The tiny slit of light from the corridor was the only brightness filtering into the storeroom. Just as you were about to dash off to the teachers’ office, one of the boys standing over him turned his face slightly towards you. You will never get his side profile wrong, not even in the bad lighting, because that’s the only profile you were able to swoon at every lunch time.

It can’t be. This isn’t possible. Something's not right. You reminded yourself time and again not to jump to conclusions. It can’t be that he was bullying Jinho. There must be something else to this. Before anyone saw you, you turned away and ran out of the building, without telling anyone about what you saw, without a single word.

The next day Jinho came to school as per usual. You stared at him sporadically throughout the lessons. His expressionless face was no different than other days, but you felt uneasy. He looks fine though. Is he fine? Why would anyone bully him? It's not what it seems, right?

Lunch time came and you stared at that familiar side profile. He had the same cozy smile, laughing and chatting with his friends, but all you felt was uneasiness. It was definitely him in that room. Is he a bully? Why would he be? There must be some explanation behind what you saw, right?

That night a classmate sent a video to your group chat, asking if the boy in it was Jinho. In the shaky video, the guy’s face was half covered, his upper body bare, and he crouched in a corner of what looked like a less-patronised school bathroom. Whoever was or were behind the phone taking the video had a field day hurling and splashing what you could only hope was water at the ragged boy. No one else could be seen in the video, and the sounds were muted too.

Your fingers hovered over the screen of your phone, shaking. Don’t jump to conclusions, you reminded yourself.

But the conclusion jumped at you – the next day Jinho didn’t come to class. In fact, he never came again.

---

Taehyung was now sitting next to you on the floor, listening intently to you. The way you peeled at the skin on your fingertips was evident of how much it still stresses you out.

“You must have been scared”, he wanted to make you feel a little less bad about your decisions.

“That’s the worst part. I was scared of the bullies... but I was more scared of admitting that he could be the bully. Because I liked him... I told myself not to jump the gun, I gave myself excuses that I didn’t know everything. I lied to myself thinking that I was being fair, that I was being neutral...”, your voice started breaking.

“... it was obvious... at that time... it was already so obvious... when I did nothing, I chose his side. I am no better than him... it’s not wrong if anyone calls me a bully too”, you were choking by now, tears flushing down your face, as you were sucked into a whirlwind of guilt and remorse.

And you were reminded of the words that you lived by ever since:

“We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” ~Elie Wiesel

“You are not a bully, Y/N...”, you felt his hands hold onto both of your tear-stained cheeks, his palms warm from the hot hairdryer air.

“... you were the only person who helped me during orientation, remember?”, he continuously tries to wipe away your tears with his hands, but they continuously fall from your eyes uncontrollably.

“Do you know tha... that... after the video spread around, Jinho couldn’t come to school? They say he locked himself up for days and... and his mother broke down the door eventually... and found him unconscious. When he woke up he couldn’t... he wouldn’t say a single word. She has all the right in the world to hate us. She wouldn’t let anyone from school visit him. But I keep trying... I just... I feel so bad and sorry to him... if only I did something, if only I...”, you rambled on, sobbing and choking through your tears.

He pulls your head down onto his shoulders, “Everyone makes mistakes... it’s ok... it’s ok”, he paused a while before continuing, “We all hope for forgiveness when we make mistakes... so that we can breathe easier. But whether to forgive is up to the person who has been hurt... it is only fair that way...”, if the air could speak, it would probably sound like his voice now.

When the ice beneath cracks, it cannot be fixed. And if you live with cracks inside of you, those are the marks of your mistakes. Everyone has cracks inside of them, small ones, long ones, ugly ones, bleeding ones. We create them on others and we get them from others. Some people let the cracks consume themselves, some people let the cracks consume other people, some people learn to live with them, some people learn from them.

“So, maybe it's not always about being forgiven... sometimes maybe it is about letting go. Not that we should forget about it... but sometimes we have to live with our mistakes and the consequences... live with them in our hearts, at least I think that is what a good person would do...”, Taehyung sighs, as you drenched him in your tears this time.

These are the things he thinks about these days. Will he ever receive forgiveness? From you. Or should he learn to let go? Of you.

“I know it’s hard...”, he started stroking your hair lightly, trying all the ways he could think of to help you through this.

“It’s nothing compared to what he had to go through”, you wept, referring to Jinho.

“Mmm...”, the wisest response he could think of was to agree. He too knows, that whatever he was going through, was nothing compared to what he made you suffer.

Not every mistake will be forgiven, not every wrong can be absolved. Out of respect for the hurt which has been caused, it should never be forgotten. Now and then, it will find ways to submerge you, seeping through the cracks within you, but you don't have to let it drown you.

He was waiting for you to use up all your tears but Taehyung must have been exhausted by his day, because as time went by, you felt the strokes on your hair weaken and eventually his hand falls onto your shoulder. His breathing was deep and lethargic, his heartbeat slow, and you realise he must have dozed off with his head now resting on top of yours.

The unhurried beats in his chest were soothing, his sweater was softer than your blanket and his arms circling you was like a fence. This moment felt safe, the air felt serene, the night felt tranquil.

You guessed that this is why people are always known to be selfish. You couldn’t take someone’s side when they required it, yet you so readily accepted this gesture of companionship in your own time of need. You buried your face into his chest like an ostrich hiding from something, although even an ostrich wouldn’t be able to hide away from its conscience in this way. You were equally exhausted, and eventually the lullaby of his heartbeats lures you into sleep.

You knew you were still not forgiven, even with Taehyung by your side. But you were no longer bearing it alone, because Taehyung was by your side.

---

In the morning, as you picked up that yellow post-it which had slipped out from your pile of mail, you finally now recognise the handwriting as Taehyung’s:

“Please don't say anything Reach my hand out to cover the mouth But in the end, spring will come someday The ice will melt and flow away”

Your smile at his words lasted a few moments, but then it slowly devolves into a bothered frown. Why did Haejoong not correct you when you asked if he wrote the notes?

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howlingheartdemigod · 6 years

Note

if ur still taking prompts how about any of the m-9 realizing beau's dad was physically abusive and trying to comfort her abt it and/or Fighting her parents on it

thank you for this anon.

i am very proud of the first ¾ths of this. and okay with the ending. it is long. and it is not happy.

I lack the ability to keep my ships out of shit as well so, light beauyasha. But very light. this is mostly a story about Beau.

TW for descriptions of abusive behaviors, gas lighting, abuse typical negative self talk, and mentions of alcohol

title from milk and honey

the weakness to fall

Beau stumbled back into the house early Wednesday morning, wrist clutched to her body. she’d been steadfastly ignoring the pain for an hour and a half of the two hour drive, just focusing on getting away, getting back. The cold night air chased her into the front hall of their rental, all too small for the eight of them, but feeling like home nonetheless. She leaned against the wall buy the door, toeing off her shoes. she closed her eyes, taking careful breaths to stop of the tears that threatened to fall. She’s been biting them back since the argument with her father grew from their normal fight to the more nasty cutting bites. She forced ragged breaths to steady, pretending the tears on her face weren’t there.

“Beau?” Nott’s high reedy voice was unexpected, causing her to jump, causing the pain in her ribs to rear its ugly head from where her father had gotten in a good jab before twisting her arm up behind her.

Nott’s small thin form appeared from the darkness of the kitchen, a glass of amber liquid clutched in her hands. Beau didn’t even have the sense of mind to think about Nott’s promise of no drinking during the week. Nott blinked at her, her light brown eyes almost seeming to shine yellow in the flickering porch light. “I thought you’d gone home for the holiday. Are…” Beau felt Nott looking her up and down, gaze growing heavy with worry. She set the glass on the entryway table. “Are you alright?”

Beau took a breath and pushed herself away from the wall. “I’m okay, Nott.” her voice was rough, raw with the swallowed sobs. She didn’t want them to know. Didn’t want them to see her as weak. She’d hid it from them for over a year, she could keep it up.

Going home had been a mistake, but her mother had called repeatedly in the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving, talking about tradition and family and just how happy it would make her father. The guilt of not going home that summer, of instead taking a mission trip with Darion and her other Physical Therapy majors that had taken her to another continent, won out over all reason. So, while all her friends, the Mighty Nein, as they had dubbed themselves, prepared for friendsgiving, Beau packed to go home.

It was two days. She could make it through two days with her parents. She could come home Thursday night and fulfill her duty as a child and it would be fine.

Except, it wasn’t. Except a year of not facing her father had left her careless. She’d started to forget rules, started to become comfortable with herself. She’d gotten in trouble within an hour of being home. The longer she spent there the more tense she felt. The more bullshit he hurled her way the more she wanted to snap back at him.

As soon as she did, she felt the familiar sting of his backhand, heard the familiar disappointed tutting of her mother. She didn’t let it stand this time. This time she swung back. He’d paid for years of martial arts training, and just because he couldn’t lower himself to show up to her tournaments doesn’t mean she won them any less. She got in three smart good jabs before his height and anger beat out her skill handedly. He twisted her arm, bruised her ribs, and bashed her lip, then pinned her face first to the wall.

“You insolent child!” He roared, trying to manhandle her towards the stairs, towards her room where he would certainly try and lock her away until Sunday night. “You don’t deserve the Lionette name.”

Beau had never been so thankful for Jester insisting she and Nott go with to the self defense course one of the sorority houses had put on. She swallowed, and ran through the way to break this sort of grip in her mind, then tried her best to execute it. Apparently, she hadn’t learned well enough. She ran out the door, of the house, and realized as she fumbled with her keys, that it was already swelling. She took off anyway, watching her father fume in the doorway as she backed down the drive as fast as she could.

“Beau,” Nott’s voice pulled her back to reality. Her gaze was stern. “You are not fine. Let me help.”

Beau almost ran, almost darted up the stairs and locked her door behind her. This could only be deceitful kindness. She could nearly feel her mother hands turn from soft and careful, applying bandages and ointments, to hard and cruel, digging into her bruises, telling her that this wouldn’t happen if she would just behave.

But this was not her mother. This was Nott, her friend. This was Nott, who’d never been unkind to her before. Who’d helped patch her up after drunken fights at frat parties, who’d held her hair back when she was puking her guts up, who helped her learn how to recognize her mistakes and apologize. Nott had never been unkind.

Beau slumped against the wall, defeated, and gave a nod. “Alright.” She relented, sliding down to sit on the floor.

Nott let out an audible sigh of relief, which only started up the guilt kicking in Beau’s gut. “I will be right back with the first aid kit.” Nott said, as she turned to scramble up the stairs.

Beau nodded, swallowing. She could let Nott help. Not understood secrets. She’d get Beau cleaned up and then they could pretend this hadn’t happened in the morning. It would all be fine. She wouldn’t have to let them all know what a wreck she was. How undeserving she was.

“Beau,” She hadn’t realized that she’d let her eyes drift shut until she opened them to see Nott, and behind her, another tall figure. Beau let out a groan of protest at the sight. “Oh, come on. I need help to get you to the kitchen. And Fjord was already awake.”

Beau Shut her eyes, and heard Fjord come closer. “Come along, now Beau.” He hooked an arm under her, shifting his grip when she hissed at the contact with her ribs, and hauled her up. This was the worst, this was horrible Fjord knowing was nightmarish/ She opened her eyes again, and limped along side him towards their brightly lit, light yellow kitchen. That stupid paint color was normally so comforting, but now it only seemed to magnify the light Nott had turned on, it only seemed to expose her more. Fjord helped her into one of the mismatched chairs, as Nott flipped open their expansive first aid kit.

Fjord dropped to a knee next to her, trying to get a good look at her. She refused to meet his stare. “What the fuck happened…” He muttered, pushing to his feet, to go dig in the freezer for an ice pack.

“Ask her when she isn’t bleeding.” Nott replied, voice a little louder than Beau would have liked.

She closed her eyes again, wishing she’d slept in her car, or gone to Darion’s to crash, or… She didn’t know She just wished she hadn’t come home. Wished she could have kept them from worrying so much.

“Guys?” A familiar accent voice called from the door. Beau turned to see Jester, bleary eyed, dark hair half tied up and mussed, in the doorway. Guilt washed over Beau as she watched her state settle over Jester. “Oh, Beau, what on earth-”

“Ask when she isn’t a mess.” Nott said, caring and stern all at once. Beau was thankful for that, for Nott, and her unspoken understanding. “Jester, could you deal with her wrist while I get the blood off her face?”

Jester nodded, and moved quickly, her instantaneous switch to business mode reminding Beau firmly that she’s Pre-Med for a reason.

“This is unnecessary.” Beau complained. “I just need to take an ice bath and I will be fine.”

“You look like absolute hell, Beau.” Fjord said, handing her an ice pack. “Put that on your ribs and let us help you.”

Beau pressed her lips, trying to come up with another argument when they all heard the front door crash open, hitting the wall. There were muttered voices, like someone who is bad at being quiet trying to be quiet. Beau stiffened and curled into herself all at once, terror creeping through her. Of course he followed her. Nothing like the chance to show her friends that she was worthless. She ducked her head, muttered “No, no, no.” to herself.

Fjord moved quickly, holding up a hand to tell them all no to move. He peaked around the corner, and his defensive stance dropped. “It’s Yasha, with drunkass in tow.”

Molly’s voice rang clear as he walked towards the kitchen. “Of course it’s me, handsome, who else would it- Oh dear Gods.” Beau curled deeper into herself, head away from the door, not wanting hear whatever snarky thing about losing a fight Molly had to say. He didn’t get it, this was her fault. She didn’t want them all to see her like this. To her shock, she only heard him call, “Yasha, make sure the door is locked.” then the sound of his feet on the wood, heading deeper into the house.

“I always lock the door, Mollymauk.” Beau could hear the fond smile on her lips, and shuddered at the thought of that fading as soon a she saw Beau. She closed her eyes before Yasha reached the room, but heard the soft, shocked, “Beauregard,” regardless. Yasha drew near her side, where Fjord had been standing. Yasha’s fingers grazed the tender, bruised skin of Beau’s face. “What happened?”

“I have to ask the same.” Caduceus’ low voice called from the door.

Molly had returned with him and tow. At Beau’s groan of annoyance, Molly shrugged. “Two pre-med students equal at least an intern, right?”

Caduceus joined them, sliding in as Nott ducked away, darting out of the room off to who knows where. He and Jester discussed her wrist, deciding that it wasn’t broken, just badly sprained, and the splint they had would be fine until they could get her to a proper clinic in the morning.

Yasha didn’t move away, just kept trailing her fingers over Beau’s face, avoiding the bruising and swelling. “What happened, Beau?” she asked, voice soft, calm, the clear blue before the sky started raging.

That’s what broke Beau, ultimately, caused the sobs to start up in her chest, which caused the pain to kick up, which only caused more tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” she rasped, leaning into Yasha’s touch, as someone moved around behind her. “If I was just, if I was just good this wouldn’t have happened. I don’t-” She gasped in a breath, looking through tears at Yasha, who seemed horrified of her. Gods she couldn’t even apologize right. She was worthless. “If I had just behaved then you wouldn’t all be up worrying about me, and, and if I could have behaved he wouldn’t have touched me, and this is all my stupid asshole self fucking everything up again.” Beau dissolved into sobs, leaning forward onto Yasha’s shoulder. There were several seconds where the only sound was Beau’s sobbing. Beau could only assume that they were sharing knowing looks, understanding how pathetic she truly was.

“Perhaps,” Caleb’s voice was soft from the door, and Beau shuddered to think of how much of her outburst he’d heard, that he too knew she wasn’t worthy of the kindness they showed her. “Perhaps, we should talk in the morning.”

There was a moment as that suggestion, really more of a warning it seemed, settled over them. They moved slowly, dispersing out of the room. Jester secured the brace on, then took Fjords hand and led him away. Caleb disappear into the darkness of the hall, Nott following once she’d dumped the drink she’d been awake for down the sink. Caduceus gave Beau a firm command to come talk to him first thing in the morning, then he retreated down towards his room. Yasha took a breath, and waved Molly over. Together, they helped Beau back to her room. Yasha lowered her onto the bed, as Molly checked that her window was locked.

Before Yasha could move away, Beau caught her wrist. “Stay.” she pleaded.

Yasha swallowed, the unspoken thing between them sparking with the force of her worry. Beau knew she didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve Yasha, but she wanted it. Gods did she want it.

Yasha nodded, her agreement washing over Beau in a wave of relief. Yasha went over to whisper something to Molly, who nodded, came over to press a kiss to Beau’s head, then disappeared, closing the door behind him. Yasha settled into bed with Beau, careful of her injuries.

Beau certainly didn’t sleep well that night, but she slept, and that alone was nearly a miracle.

Beau woke up with a warm weight on her chest. She cracked her eyes open in the pale light of the room, and saw Frumpkin curled up, right on top of her. She smiled, moving to pet him. The brace on her wrist, however, reminded her what had transpired the night before.

“Fuck.” she muttered. Beau looked over, finding the other half of her bed empty. “Fuck.”

Beau coaxed Frumpkin to her lap, then pulled herself upright, breathing through the pain in her side. She scratched the cat behind the ears, looking around the room. Someone had brought her bag up from her car, and set it by her desk. She dragged herself out of bed, and went to change out of her day old, slept in clothes. She knew a shower would really do wonders but as soon as she left that room she was certain it would be something of an interrogation, or maybe just a firm ‘move out.’ She always paid her share of the rent, but maybe they really did just keep her around because they thought she was strong. Maybe this was a tipping point.

Beau stared at herself in the tall mirror Jester had moved in there when she got a new more ornate one. She was a mess. She lifted her shirt and ran her fingers over the her side, blooming with red and purple. It was an ugly one, probably a broken rib, or at least fractured. It hadn’t felt that bad the night before, but sleeping on it without wrapping it had definitely aggravated it. She dropped her shirt, and looked to her face. Her lower lip was busted, on the left. Nothing much to do there but let it heal, maybe apply some ointment. She darted her tongue out, tasting the rust from it. At least he hadn’t cracked a tooth. That would have been hell to deal with. The bruise on her cheek was almost familiar, almost reassuring. She could see where his wedding band had hit, the slightly darker line among the red. It looked like the bruise she’d been sporting in her yearbook photo senior year of high school. She’d told everyone she wiped out on her skateboard. Her mother had told her she’d wiped out on her skate board. She’s insisted she’d wiped out on her skate board. She forced Beau to repeat it back, through tears. Beau had kind of started to believe it.

Beau turned away, feeling dejected. Frumpkin had laid in the warm spot she’d vacated, and was staring at her with wide eyes. “Mrph,” he blinked, head tilting.

“Yeah, bud.” She replied, moving to scratch behind his ears. Frumpkin pushed into her hand, then jumped off the bed and headed towards the door. He waited patiently, looking back at her. Beau took a breath, nodding a little, realizing Caleb’s cat was right; she needed to face the music.

She cracked the door, and Frumpkin trotted out ahead of her. She padded softly, hearing the quiet murmuring of voices, and the sounds of cooking from the kitchen. She moved quietly, dragging her feet, listening.

“…saying we need to know the story.” Fjord was saying. “We need to know what she wants to do not just want we feel.”

“We can’t just let this go.” Yasha now. Beau would have felt bad for eavesdropping if they weren’t clearly talking about her. “I’m not going to let this go.”

“She’s not going to want to talk about it.” Caleb sounded tired, sounded like he hadn’t slept. “She has spent this long hiding it from us, probably from everyone, and… It messes up your head.”

“I am going to kill the bastard.”

“Yasha, as much as I’d love to, we don’t know for certain he did this, we might just be making assumptions.” Fjord replied.

“I think it was pretty clear, seeing as she’d gone home, been there for a few hours at most, and got back bloody and bruised. I don’t understand why we’re sitting here discussing this instead of burning the house down.”

“That isn’t our decision to make.” Caduceus now, sounding like his back was turned from the group.

Caleb spoke up again. “It takes a lot of, uh… a lot of time to get to a point where you can talk about it, especially if you’re alone in it.”

“She isn’t alone!” Jester replied, sounding haughty. “She has us.”

Molly cleared his throat before speaking, and Beau knew how he ran his hand through his obnoxious purple hair when he did that. “I think his point, love, is that she is has been alone.”

“Secrets isolate you.” Nott added.

“That’s true.” Fjord said. “I just wish we knew what to do.”

“How about we ask her?” Caduceus’ voice was accompanied by the soft sounds of a plate of food being set out. “Her door opened a few minutes ago. I’m sure she’ll be down soon.” Beau took a few quick steps back down the hallway, swallowing. She tiptoed backup a few steps, then took heavy stomps, making it clear that she was only just now coming down stairs and in fact had never been down stairs ever before in her life. It was stupid, but it made her feel better.

She ducked into the room, to all eyes on her, and nearly ran. “Hey.” she said, voice strained. “Uh, I think I may have a cracked rib. I need to first aid kit.”

“Oh, I put it back away, I’ll go get it.” Nott said, pushing to her feet.

“Thanks Nott.” Beau said, moving towards the sink. She wanted to grab a glass of water, but it was frustrating with the brace, and the tense silence in the room. She dropped the cup, clattering it into the sink. She jumped, gasping a little. “Sorry,” She muttered, almost on instinct.

“Beauregard.” Yasha had moved closer. She looked soft in the daylight, she looked worried. Beau swallowed, not looking at her. Yasha reached past her, grabbing the cup. She filled it, and pressed it into Beau’s good hand. “I think you should sit.”

Beau pressed her lips, head shaking a little. “I’m… I’m alright. I uh…” she stared down at the cup, turning a little towards the rest of the kitchen. She couldn’t bring herself to look at them. Couldn’t force herself. “I’m fine.” she said.

Before anyone could speak, Nott came back in the room, digging through the kit. Yasha put a hand on Beau’s back. “Please sit.” She said softly.

Beau swallowed, and relented. Jester came over, band-aids in hand. “Beau, can I wrap your ribs?” she asked. Beau nodded, and Jester dropped to a knee in front of her, making her lean forward to wrap around her middle. Yasha sat next to her, and the room fell silent again. Jester put the clips into place, and settled down on the ground. “Beau.” she said. “Will you tell us what happened?”

Beau bit her lip. “It doesn’t matter, It’s…”

“You matter to us, Beauregard.” Caleb replied softly from the other side of the table. She met his eye, seeing the deeply furrowed brow, the worry, the… she must have been projecting, but she could swear she could see understanding in his eyes. She looked from him to Molly next to him, to where Nott was settling down next to him. She was surrounded by her friends she realized, protected by them. Caduceus was by the stove, turning the burner off, Fjord leaning by the door, protecting her. She heard Caleb snap a little, and heard Frumpkin make a noise of reply. He muttered something in German, and Frumpkin trotted under the table over to her. She let out a little huff as the car jumped up on to her lap.

She swallowed. “I’m sorry.” she said again. “About last night. I’m sorry. I… I went home, and I picked back at my dad and he just… he just gets upset. If I didn’t upset him this wouldn’t have happened.”

“This isn’t your fault, Beau.” Yasha replied without hesitation.

Beau scrunched her nose, head shaking. “It’s… If I had behaved, I hadn’t spoken back, if I hadn’t hit back he wouldn’t have escalated things.”

“Your… Your father?” Jester asked from the floor. “Your father did this?”

Beau looked at her, guilt welling up. Jester had so much faith in the world. Her mom had always been so good to her. She’d always taught her to expect the best. Beau was ruining her. She forced herself to nod at Jesters question.

“Oh, Beau.” Nott’s voice rang out. “And your mother…”

Beau shrugged. “She, uh… I mean… She doesn’t fly off the handle like him. She… she isn’t… it’s… everyone’s parents are assholes, right, mine are just, worse than some.”

“No, Beau.” Fjord said. “That’s… when people complain about their parents it’s because they got in an argument about curfew, or about like… I don’t know, over using their gas card.” He shook his head. “Not this.”

Beau looked around the room, scowling as she realize they were all making faces of agreement. She dropped her eyed back to the drink. “Oh.” She said.

“It’s okay, Beauregard.” Yasha said softly. “It’s not your fault.”

Jester put her hand on Beau’s knee, nodding.

Beau took a breath, trying to accept that new reality. She looked around the room, swallowing, then shrugged. “But, upsetting him, that, it was my fault, though-”

“Step one for you is going to include a lot of positive self talk.” Molly said. He’d taken to leaning his chin on Caleb’s shoulder, not quite meeting Beau’s eye. “And learning to keep from ever thinking that what they did to you is your fault.”

Caduceus brought a cup of tea over, trading the glass Beau was holding out for the warm ceramic. “We’ll help you on that.” He promised.

Beau felt almost dizzy, almost sick, but she looked around the room, and realized that if they were willing to go to all this trouble for her, to help her, then maybe, just maybe she did deserve it.

Beau remained on edge all of Wednesday, as they talked through things, moving from the kitchen to the couch, talking about options and if she wanted to go to the police, and when she could get in at the student mental health clinic. She kept expecting it all to fall apart. But the more they deconstructed it, the more they talked, the more she realized the way her family treated her was not normal. She realized it, but it was still hard to keep from pulling blame to herself. It had been drilled into her so long that it was just habit. Yasha never really left her side, Frumpkin wasn’t ever far from her either. (She really didn’t understand how Caleb had so effectively trained a cat. It almost seemed impossible.) They decided, late Wednesday night, to call it good, seeing as Beau hadn’t called herself an asshole or apologized in nearly an hour, and they’d finally remembered to eat. Jester hugged her as tight as she could without making her rib situation worse before she skipped up to bed. Fjord gave Beau a nod, smiling a little before he followed her. Caleb gave her a firm pat on the shoulder, that she returned. Molly, a kiss on the head. Nott hadn’t really strayed too far from Beau either that day, but she gave Beau’s hand a squeeze before heading off to her room. Caduceus took a breath, and promised her that things could only get better, before disappearing down the stairs.

Yasha stared at her from the corner of the couch. Beau stared back.

“Beauregard, I…” Yasha cleared her throat. “I have to be honest, I’ve never been this angry in my life. I want to drive out there and kill them for what they did to you. You didn’t deserve any of that.” Beau swallowed, feeling too many emotions to parse how she felt about that. Yasha dropped her eyes before continuing. “I just… I wanted to say that… I will never let anyone hurt you like that again as long as I’m in your life. And I plan to be in it for a long, long time.”

Beau swallowed, nodding a little. “I want you in for for a long, long time.” She replied.

Yasha looked back to her, and Beau could swear she saw a weight shift on her shoulders. She knew that Yasha had lost someone dear, though she didn’t know the details, and she hoped, she prayed, that she wouldn’t ever make that list longer.

Yasha pushed to her feet. “Let’s go rest.”

To Beau’s shock, Yasha joined Beau in her bed. To her amazement, she fell asleep so easily when Yasha was there. To her wonder, Yasha was still there when Beau woke up again.

Beau should have been expecting the loud insistent pounding on the door. It was after their thanksgiving dinner, where they (Molly, loudly) had mostly discussed the hypocrisy of early European settlers, and they were half way through Love, Actually. Jester had insisted, declaring that it was the only way to start off the Holiday season right. Beau had nearly forgotten about the pain in her side, and the brace on her wrist. She was tucked in to Yasha’s side, and Caleb was on her other side, and she felt safe. She felt good. And then there was a violent pounding at the door, and the sound of the doorknob being rattled, and she immediately felt that being taken away from her.

“Beauregard!” A voice roared from outside, and Beau could do nothing but freeze as Fjord scrambled for the remote. “Beauregard Lionette, I know you’re in there! That piece of shit car of yours is parked right out front! Answer this door immediately.”

“That’s it.” Molly muttered, pushing to his feet. Yasha was spurred to action at that, pulling away from Beau. She tried to cling to Yasha’s shirt, but she was too slow. She watched Jester push to her feet as well.

“Guys.” she said, voice a half broken whisper. “Guys, don’t…”

“Beau,” Caleb said, turning to face her as their friends stormed down the hall. “Unfortunately, you don’t get to choose who cares for you. That’s not a choice you get to make.”

With that, Beau was silence, shocked. It was a conversation they’d had freshman year, it was what she’d said to him when he was trying to hard to push them all away. His reply had been cutting, about how the trouble with friends is that you have to care about them, but all of the sudden she saw it, saw what he’d meant. She swallowed, head shaking, as he stood, putting himself between her and the door, arms folded.

She pushed to her feet shakily, moving to stand just behind Caleb, as Molly unlocked the door, backed by Yasha and Jester, Fjord and Nott a few feet back from them. Caduceus stood behind Beau, and patted her shoulder. “We’ve got you.” He promised, before taking a step back, his tall form creating a wall of security behind her. She reached a hand out and set it on Caleb’s shoulder, like he often did to her when the stress and panic got to be too much.

“Beauregard-” Her father’s voice cut off as Molly swung the door open, his other fist curled at his side.

“You have no right to be here, and should get off out property before we call the police.” Molly said, glaring.

Beau’s father returned the stare, sneering, in fact. “I don’t care much for what a fag college boy has to say. Where is Beauregard?”

Yasha seemed to grow a foot, rage bubbling up. “Don’t say her name.” She cautioned, voice a deadly sort of calm. “Don’t so much as think of trying to push past us or touch her, or you’ll be leaving with bruises much worse than hers.

Beau almost wished she’d been closer, been able to see her father recoil with fear more clearly. He looked at the assembled group, then past them. His eyes locked on her, and he raised a finger, a tiny gesture that felt like a threat. “You, you are a rotten beast. You run off with no warning, then don’t come home for dinner. This is a sacred holiday, Beauregard.”

Yasha stepped a little bit towards him, and Jester, arms folded, did the same. “We told you not to say her name.” Jester reminded.

He looked from Yasha to Jester, then back to Beauregard. “Come with me this instant. We are going home, and I will think, think of allowing you to return to your studies on Monday.”

“She isn’t going anywhere with you.” Molly said, sounding incredulous. “You think after what you did to her we’re going to let you come anywhere near her? No. In fact, I think it might be a good idea for you to turn tail and run.”

His eyes snapped to Molly, anger bubbling up. “You dare to speak to me like that-”

“Yes, I think you’ll find he does.” Fjord spoke up. He was leaning on a wall like a hero in a western. “See, we don’t tend to stand on manners when abusers are involved.”

Nott, Beau realized, was flipping a kitchen knife in the air. She hadn’t noticed her pocket it, but the threat in the action was clear.

Beau’s father swallowed. “Beauregard, I’m giving you one last chance to come home, then I’m cutting you off. No tuition, no allowance, no trust fund, no nothing.”

Beau scowled at him. “Those-” Her voice broke. “The allowance I’ve refused since I was ten, you mean? The trust fund you already changed the name on so I only am allowed it if I take on the family business?” She felt like a coward, shouting retorts from down the hall, but it was better than nothing, she figured, or at least it was a first step to feeling brave again.

“I think you’ll find she’ll be fine when it comes to tuition.” Jester replied. “She’ll be just fine without you and your bullshit.”

Beau swallowed, feeling like she was about to fall apart.

“In case you aren’t getting the point,” Caduceus called from behind her. “You aren’t welcome here.”

“It is time for you to go. Now.” Caleb added. She saw his head tilt forward, and saw fear settle into her father eyes. She didn’t know what he was seeing, but she knew she never wanted to be on the receiving end of that look. “And if you ever dare to come back here, or reach out to her in any way without her reaching you first, you’ll find that all your anger and brutality, it is nothing compared to what we will do for our friend.”

Beau watched her father tremble. She saw how small he looked. Molly was a good inch taller than him, Yasha a few more than that. He looked so weak. His eyes, the steely grey that had scared her so much for so much of her life, flicked to her. He swallowed, seeing the hardness in her face, seeing how every line of her body, even in her terror, was giving him no room for leeway. Then he turned tail and ran.

Molly waited until he saw the taillights turn the corner down the street to close the door. Beau waited until he’d locked the deadbolt, and slid the chain into place to completely fall apart.

Beau cried, feeling like that’s all she could manage anymore. But even as she did she was surrounded by her friends, her family, and she realized, all at once, that it would be okay.

#my writing #mine #critical role #beauyasha #critrole #a couple of things #trying to balance every single person in a scene #is hard #i might rewrite parts of this #but right now i'm happy to have finished it #caleb comes in the room right as beau's breakdown is starting #Caduceus lives in the basement #Marion pays 50% of the rent on their brownstone #Beau had a roommate #then Jester and Fjord started dating #Nott was in with Caleb #then she found out that they had an attic they didn't use #they're siblings in this i know that isn't clear sorry #there are only four rooms #plus the attic and the basement #I am building the brownstone in the sims because I can #frumpkin is probably still a magic cat in this #don't worry about it #also Molly cares very much about Beau and is just incredibly bad at expressing that #i probably have other notes #or things I should say #about the guild abuse victims feel #about how beau's mom sucks too and I should probably have included her in that last scene #but it made more sense not to because that's the kind of abuser she was and it's complicated #but I need to go change my laundry over now

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rkmb · 5 years

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ROYAL + SPHERE ▸ SU & KSOO & HEEJIN & ERIC — ( ALL NIGHT 0:30 – 4:10 ) & ( LINE : OUTFIT ) — LUV 0:00 -- 3:58 , LINE : SOFT YELLOW

"we won," he says, sliding a black stone across the board.

his father responds by placing a white stone down right next to his -- an attack.

"unfortunately, one of us was still eliminated." his eyes skim the wooden board before making his next move -- a counterattack. "he struggled a lot, but he worked hard. that's what matters, right?"

for the first time since the commencement of their game, his father speaks: "true talent is impossible to imitate." and though suwoong wishes to argue, he keeps his mouth shut. instead, he watches his father's white stone skim his carefully orchestrated trap before settling down exactly where suwoong wants it.

he's quick to respond: he lays down his own stone before reaching over and collecting three of his father's.

"too eager," the elder comments, sliding yet another white stone into place without much consideration. "small victories are worthless if you do not win the entire game."

"but they should still be celebrated."

his brow furrows as he places down one of his black stones, only to be quickly countered by his father's own. and when he takes a few seconds too long to make his next move, his father peers up at him. "suwoong, are you playing seriously?"

he flinches.

the words are a slap in the face as he vividly recalls himself asking kyungsoo a similar question last week.

"of course," he says, meeting his father's unfaltering gaze. "why wouldn't i be?"

"this is an amateur's strategy."

his eyes drop to the formation between them. a trail of white stones dot the board. some of them appear to be dead stones, but upon closer inspection, he sees that they're very much alive. oh. so that's what his father's aiming for.

"resign."

the command echoes in his head as he fiddles with the black stone in-between his middle and forefinger. the most honorable move would be to fold, as his father suggests. that way, he can choose defeat instead of having it forced upon him. no risks, no sacrifices, just safe. that's what his father taught him.

but he doesn't like safe. he likes the risks, the sacrifices. he likes celebrating those small victories, no matter how foolish he may appear if he doesn't win in the end.

he places a stone down.

"you will lose if you continue."

"it's better to try than to give in." he tilts his head. "that's just something we'll never see eye-to-eye on."

there's no verbal response -- just a kook sound to indicate his father setting down a stone to counterattack. several moves later, the elder wins by a relatively slim margin---a result that leaves them wordless as they shuffle the stones back into their respective bowls.

it's only when they seal the bowls off and pushes them toward the center of the go board that his father speaks once more: "win."

suwoong knows what he wants to say: that depends on how well we perform. it's not my decision. this isn't a game of strategy; it's a test of skill.

but he bites his tongue and cracks a small smile instead.

"don't worry," he tells him, "i intend to."

we intend to.

🌸

the mood in the royal practice room friday morning has visibly shifted away from last week's thunderstorm. during their first run, tension between several group members left the air bitter for several days until hyojin brought them back together with a heart-to-heart conversation. while it took time to rebuild the relationships with one another, it paid off in the end when baek jiyoung declared team youth over flowers as the semi-finalist winners. since then, the practice room buzzes with activity. suwoong, himself, is nearly bouncing off the walls as he speaks animatedly to the others -- most of which is pure nonsense, but honestly, what's new.

as they're tossing around song ideas, the door creaks open and cheri walks in first with a sizable cake in her hands. suwoong's the first on his feet, ushering over to greet his newfound luxe bias ( sorry, ella! ) with the biggest grin---

that quickly morphs into the ugliest expression when the cake in cheri's hands tips over and plops on the ground. someone makes a strangled noise akin to an animal wailing in agony. and surely, it doesn't come from the super cool and handsome lee suwoong, who dramatically sinks to his knees in front of the fallen cake. what a loss! to think cheri went all this way to get them a beautiful cake, only for it to succumb to the dreaded thing that is gravity -- !

he's about to publicly declare war on gravity itself when something happens . . . something that's completely and utterly unexpected from gentle won and uptight ella ( coach ella, the devilish ella in his head dutifully supplies, damn her ).

the pair walk in . . . with a second cake.

his mouth drops open.

how dare they!

"that's super evil!" he exclaims with a small pout.

but the coaches are quickly forgiven when they're seated around with a slice each ( all after helping cheri clean up the sticky mess, of course ). as they're eating, eric pipes up with a suggestion to call hyojin -- something suwoong happily urges him to do.

"hyooo ~" he greets as the other's familiar face pops up on the screen. "we got cake! are you jealous? you shouldn't be! no, really. you're lucky you weren't here 'cause . . ." he spends the next few minutes detailing the coaches' prank before shoving a spoonful of cake in the phone's direction. it's a rather pitiful attempt to feed the younger, and is an attempt that is later thwarted by eric pulling his phone away once the sticky spoon gets a little too close.

once they've said their goodbyes to hyojin, they return to the topic of song selection. after a few back and forth, the group settles on < all night > for the royal performance. their selection for sphere is harder, with the group split between two boy group options. they turn to the coaches for a secondary opinion, and amidst their chatter of pros and cons of each selection, the coaches begin to reminisce on their favorite performances from their respective seasons -- all of which include several girl groups. it's cheri who eventually slides them the idea of considering a girl group song -- something suwoong isn't particularly opposed to, but is a bit skeptical when it comes to matching vibes. several viewings later, they settle on she'z's < luv >, a rather cutesy, nostalgic song with sad lyrics that's sure to test their expressions.

despite their day starting off beautifully with the most wondrous ice cream cake in the world, thank you baskin robbins, they spend the rest of the time working on their core muscles -- something ella absolutely insists that they do for their < all night > choreography. thus, they start doing squats. suwoong is positively hurting all over, and is surely making constipated faces ( sorry to fans who are here for looks only! ) when the ever-so brilliant but evil cheri suggests that they work on harmonization . . . while they're doing squats.

suwoong nearly dies, encore.

prior to the mgas, he used to frequent the gym once a week on average to work on his still nonexistent abs. and during those times, the only squats he'd done were those when he's squatting down to pick up his backpack.

"sadists!" he exclaims as he sprawls himself all over the floor during one of their well-deserved breaks. "coach ella just wants to see us suffer, doesn't she?!"

he feels light as a feather as he tumbles into bed later that night. all is well until he's rudely awoken several hours later by kyungsoo's obnoxious call to get him out of his apartment. honestly, does his cousin ever sleep? it's no wonder he's always grumpy.

they're the first to arrive, but this time around, since it's not five in the morning, suwoong stays awake to practice his vocals. cheri had given him tips during their harmonization-squatting sessions ( he still hurts from that ). and while he's standing there, trying to breathe from his diaphragm, whatever that means, his ears perk to the sound of approaching footsteps.

ah yes, the coaches.

"quick, hide!"

he drags kyungsoo behind the door. the coaches got them good yesterday, so it's only fair if they return the favor, right? right. "i think that's cheri's footsteps . . . shh!"

turns out, it's just heejin, who opens the door right as suwoong's shushing kyungsoo ( who actually didn't make a peep in the first place, but y'know, he shushed him just in case ). he drags heejin to join them behind the door and toes it shut. "we're going to get them back," he explains to her, placing a finger over his lips to indicate shh while his mouth curls into a rather mischievous smile. sometime later, the door opens once more, and suwoong jumps out with a loud boo!

eric shrieks and begins beating on suwoong's chest, wailing don't do that! it ends with him embracing the younger and patting him numerous times on the head . . . all before pulling him behind the door as well.

the scene then unfolds: four youths -- a stoic, a dumbass, a princess, and a babie -- are huddling in the corner of the room, waiting with dwindling patience for the coaches to arrive. they wait for a while, and just as they're about to disperse, the door cracks open wider and wider and---

"boo!"

cheri and ella hurl themselves away, all while cheri shuns them as demons.

suwoong can't breathe. he doubles over with wheezes as kyungsoo and eric, the ever serious and sweet pair, rush over to aid ella, who had fallen from shock. he, himself, is mid-cry laughing as he reaches down to give cheri a hand. and while he does apologize several times for their little scare prank, it's all lost in-between fits of laughter. he sobers up a good minute later and offers a few pats, as he did with eric, as condolence -- but the deed is already done.

as the day progresses, he feels like the coaches are just a biiit harder on them, perhaps because of the scare prank. and while he does find himself whining here and there---especially when they're doing squats while eating lunch---he eventually sucks it up, because hey, it's the finals. and they'll be the last performance, so they absolutely have to give it their all.

sunday starts similarly: in pain and agony. morning squats and harmonization have gotten a bit easier, and dare he say, his booty is looking mighty fine thanks to them. ( kidding, his booty looks the same. yes, he has checked. who hasn't? )

by time lunch break rolls around, he and heejin---the two best dressed of the quartet, and no, this is not up for debate---usher out to the shopping strip for their < luv > outfits. they've opted to go for a pastel yellow color scheme instead of pink, since yellow is sphere's color. picking out their own and eric's is easy; he goes with a white shirt and yellow jacket, whereas heejin goes with a cute white top and a yellow pleated skirt. since eric's rather young, they choose a white top and a yellow sweater vest, complete with white trousers that matches suwoong's own.

for kyungsoo, it's a bit more difficult. suwoong wants him in the cutest outfit ever! but unfortunately, heejin is a party pooper who shakes her head at everything he proposes, citing that it's not something that kyungsoo would wear, lest fit---to which suwoong asserts that's the point! in the end, suwoong wins with a yellow shirt that proudly boasts a huge white bow, adorned with a matching yellow beret. they also buy a second beret for hyojin, so he can wear it in spirit.

on the way back to the royal building, they come across a small crowd milling around someone -- and as every nosy person should, he sticks his head in to see what's going on. he's surprised to find kyungsoo, of all people, standing there singing. "did he tell you about this?" he asks heejin, quirking an eyebrow at the oddity that is kyungsoo not telling anyone that he's performing. is he trying to gain more fans? or is he promoting their group? but if he's promoting them, wouldn't it make sense to have them all out here? though a bit skeptical, suwoong still claps as the song comes to an end while making a mental note to ask kyungsoo about this later.

after they return to the practice room, he and heejin proudly show off their purchases, with suwoong talking animatedly about the struggles they had gone through to get these outfits. "do you know how hard it is to find a sweater vest in this weather?!" he flails eric's outfit out. "everyone kept giving us weird looks, because who wears sweater vests in the summer?!" once he hands eric's outfit over to the younger, he reaches into their shopping back to pull out the last outfit. "and this one is yours, kyungie! with the hat!" he's positively beaming as he holds up these items -- these items that they bled, sweated, and cried for.

and yet, kyungsoo has the audacity to turn it down.

"it's a gift!" suwoong says, shoving the shirt in his cousin's face. "you can't refuse a gift, that's rude. it'll make heejin cry, and you don't want her to cry, do you?" but kyungsoo, the absolute ass, does not accept the outfit even after he says that, so he ends up chasing kyungsoo out of the practice room and into the hallway where he successfully tackles the other, dragging him into one of the restrooms.

some time later, suwoong busts into the practice room with triumph, and kyungsoo trails slowly behind in the outfit he had initially refused.

when tuesday comes around, kyungsoo presents a bag of snacks from their honorary member hyojin, all labeled with notes of encouragement. suwoong nearly cries from awe as he sends hyojin a total of twenty-seven texts to thank him for the food. as they're munching away on their next water break ( hereby snack break ), he leans, almost as if he's telling the other three a secret -- but instead of a secret, he makes a suggestion: "let's do a second prank."

eric voices his disapproval, citing that they nearly killed ella and cheri for their first prank. suwoong thinks that's an exaggeration -- which is a pretty bold thought coming from lee suwoong himself -- and shakes his head. "no, no, no, not another scare prank. something bigger. better." his eyes light up as he sits upright to explain his idea. simply put, they're going to trick the coaches into thinking that they've changed their sphere song from < luv > to < ppap >.

"it's foolproof," he tells the three. "they already think we got them back with the scare prank, so they wouldn't expect another one." he then insists that they perform a small part of the song to really drill in the trickery so that the reveal is much more dramatic.

and so, that's what they do.

when the coaches return the following day, they put their plan into action:

"we have a confession," suwoong starts, gaze flickering between the contestants and coaches to fake his nervous impression. "yesterday, when the three of you were gone, we sat down and thought really hard about our luv performance. it's cute, but we want to do something more fun and relevant, so we . . . chose a new song." he quickly raises both of his hands. "don't be mad! we think this is the best choice for us. it fits sphere's image more, and it'll definitely help us win." when the coaches don't faint from surprise, he adds on, "we're very serious. please allow us to show you."

and so, they take their places: heejin and kyungsoo in the middle, suwoong and eric at the wings. heejin and kyungsoo start them off with a beautiful rendition of ppap, while the other two slowly mimic the original ppap choreography. once the first two finish the short vocal part, eric whips out his otamatone and begins playing a more upbeat ppap. they all begin to dance a bit more vigorously, stretching one of their arms out as if stirring a pot with attitude. they barely finish the dance portion before busting out of laughter -- suwoong being the absolute loudest when he sees the look on cheri's face.

after sobering up for the millionth time this week, they get back to business.

🌸

"we are royal flush!" they greet before bowing in unison. kyungsoo, the ace of hearts, introduces himself first in the line-up. suwoong follows soon thereafter: "i'm lee suwoong, the king of hearts!" he shoots out two finger hearts to individuals in the front row. his left finger heart is directed a yena, who he fondly remembers as the one who bought him chicken and cheered him on, even after her tragic elimination; his right is sent to kyulkyung, his gossip buddy and second duo partner whom he has developed a rather strong friendship with.

after heejin and eric introduce themselves, the four take move into their starting position. kyungsoo, heejin, and eric sit with their backs to the audience, while suwoong lies down at the end, in the opposite direction.

as the music starts -- a gentle melody that's unlike suwoong's type -- the first three lie down in succession while suwoong sits upright. his gaze catches one of the cameras that he had identified during their introduction ( all thanks to brilliant tips from coach won ). he moves his left arm in a fluid, slow motion, then his right, as if to lift the three lying down upward.

kyungsoo is the first to sing, followed by suwoong, who stays upright as the others sink to one knee.

한껏 깊어진 시간이 아무 의미 없이 don't sleep oh 셀 수 없이 니가 아른대는 거야 yeah

his voice, by sheer nature, is louder than that of kyungsoo's. when they had initially practiced their lines, the contrast seemed jarring at the time. it took several one-on-one sessions with cheri to soften his vocals to fit their choice song. the gentleness, however, isn't long-lasting; it gradually ceases as the beat picks up for the chorus, which heejin starts and suwoong picks up second:

니 목소린 간질간질 간질 하게 들려 맘이 포근포근 포근하게

again, he finds himself in the center of the semi-circle formed by the other three. he's sure to, once more, gaze in the direction of the camera, the corners of his lips lifting into a small smile that gives way to a softer appearance. expressions are important. he had stressed this with kyulkyung in their < close > performance, as well as with the group in their < shangri-la > performance. under ella's careful guidance, the four of them had practiced their facial movements, making sure they highlight the emotion they're trying to convey in just once glance.

following the in-choreo squat, which they had done more than a hundred times while harmonizing ( again, thank you, coach ella and cheri ), eric leads them away with his rap portion. for someone so young, suwoong finds himself impressed by the other's efforts. the younger had entered the competition with dance as his main skill, yet volunteered for rap after realizing no one else could deliver the lines as well. suwoong, himself, had tried and fumbled numerous times before finding solace in vocal lines.

heejin follows the rap, then suwoong steps forward, the volume of his voice raising slightly to accommodate the crescendo.

니 목소린 간질간질 간질 하게 들려 맘이 포근포근 포근하게

as he sings these lines, he leads the stronger movements -- rolling his shoulders back, head tilted at a slight angle, eyes catching yena's then kyulkyung's. he hasn't forgotten about them yet.

eric raps once more, followed by heejin, who delivers her impressive high note. as fades away, suwoong grabs her by the wrist and spins her into a loose embrace. his nose brushes along the side of her hair as he peers up with a peculiar twinkle in his otherwise darkened eyes.

"such a good night," he says, allowing the words to drip from his lips like a seductive promise.

after a quick succession of kyungsoo's lines, then his, then heejin's, the four of them collectively shout one last time! right as confetti shoots out above them. while the paper slowly flutters down, snowing their pearly white outfits, they finish their performance by easing into their ending pose: heejin standing behind, him and eric sitting back to back, while kyungsoo is propped up in front on one elbow.

it's not long before they're back on stage, this time in pastel yellow outfits that he and heejin had dutifully bought. they introduce themselves once more as royal flush before sweeping into another respectful bow. once they straighten up, suwoong reaches up to steady his headset.

"it's been a long journey, hasn't it?" his eyes glisten as they skim the crowd once more for those familiar faces. "thank you all for supporting us every step of the way. as we perform the last song for this year's mgas, please listen closely to the lyrics. these are our feelings for you as we begin to fondly reminisce our time here." and with that, they begin.

the second song choice is not as explosive as the other groups', but going out with a bang! isn't necessarily their intent. they had shown elegance with < shangri-la > and charm with < all night >, but with this last performance, they hope to incorporate the nostalgia factor from she'z with their experiences this season. he sings to the friends he's made, the partners and groupmates he's worked with, and and the fans that have supported him since the first episode.

믿을 수가 없어 한참 지나버린 우리 얘기

the lyrics are easy on the tongue and gentle to the ears. as he delivers his lines, weaving in and out between the other three's parts, he adopts a sadder expression with his eyebrows furrowed, his lower lip jutting out in yet another small pout. he knows that sadness is harder to feign, particularly since they're all happy to perform this final stage -- but as the song goes on, as he hears kyungsoo, heejin, and eric sing their respective parts, he finds the expression coming naturally to him.

he is, admittedly, a bit sad that this would be his last time on such a big stage. win or lose, he now has a taste of stardom. it's exhilarating, performing in front of so many. his life as a go professional suddenly seems lackluster. he's not sure if he can turn back to that.

수없이 마주치는 사람들 속에서 점점 잊혀져 가겠죠

with so many people i run into, i will gradually forget you. as these words leave his lips, he catches the gaze of various audience members -- yena and kyulkyung again, as well as some others who hold up banners in support of him and team royal. his gaze softens as he considers these lyrics for himself: as days pass by and he returns to studying go, the mgas will become something of the past -- a distant memory tucked away into the crevasses of his most treasured experiences.

but sometimes i smile at the thought of that time. kyungsoo sings this line, and when he does, suwoong finds himself looking at his cousin. they've both been raised under strict circumstances to walk a path that's been paved for them by others. he doesn't know what will happen to him -- what will happen to them -- after this performance, but he knows that they'll both fondly remember their time here.

it's here that he has experienced something that he never thought he'd experience: the ability to choose. he chose to participate in the mgas. he chose to stand on this stage, to perform, and to keep pushing week after week.

for once, he's not his parents' pride.

he's his own.

"do it with us!" the four of them shout before he leads them with the last chorus. together with the audience, they part their forearms to l-o-v-e luv. faces blur, the music fades. he looks on beyond the audience to capture the last few moments on stage. just a month ago, he was doing trot in front of a hundred contestants. tonight, he's performing in front of three thousand.

it hits him as they sink into their final pose: a large heart created from their arms, with heejin and eric forming the top half, while he and kyungsoo form the bottom half.

three thousand.

here.

to watch and support them.

and to think, he gets to perform this last stage with eric, someone he had bonded with during the first week; heejin, someone he'd stood alongside for top three during the second week; and kyungsoo, his mostly insufferable but still okay cousin -- who would've thought?

he's grinning as they rise for a final bow.

win, his father told him.

for some reason, he feels as if he's already won -- not necessarily the competition, but in general. he's made it this far by his own choice. how's that not winning?

MENTIONED : @rkkyungsoo / @rkheejin / @ericxrk / @rkcheri / @rkella / @rkwon / @rkkyul / @yuzurk / @hyojinrk

#RKMGA5 #RKMGA5FINALE #dam this was a RIDE y'all im 🤧🤧#WC:4300

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kiruuuuu · 6 years

Text

Well, @thedragonsarealive, I can’t deny Bandit has grown on me over time. And thank you for your nice words, I love you too!! ❤❤ I hope to have done your request justice :) (Rating M?, angst all the way, ~1.3k words)

They said it’d get better. They said to just give it time. They said he’ll learn how to cope.

They were wrong.

It’s a hole in Jäger’s life, a rip in the fabric that holds his everything together, his thoughts, actions, personality, all of him. Threads are sticking out and his grief is a little kid, curious and utterly unaware of the damage it’s doing. It pulls on them one by one, identifies the loose ones and tears them out, discards them, unbothered, then hunts for the next one. The weave is coming undone, too big for simple stitches, and the child never sleeps, only pulls. It’s only a matter of time until it finds the seams.

A hole only becomes meaningful through the absence of something, the lack of a certain thing that’s usually there, that’s to be expected in a place like this. It’s innately troubling and in his case, it wears the shape of someone he needs to forget, someone who won’t return to jab Jäger with his ice cold feet in the morning, won’t ever drink too much again, won’t save his life, keep him company, chase away his nightmares anymore. He has no eyes, so he can’t not take them off Jäger, not even for a second, keep him in his peripheral vision at all times. He has to watch his own back now.

Thinking about him hurts. Thinking about all the things that sparked fierce adoration, an almost religious devotion in Jäger that he identified much too late as the feeling it actually is aches so much that he caves in under the immense knowledge, the truth too grand and impossible to fully understand, the fact too horrific to grasp. Bandit wouldn’t want him to distort his image anyway, wouldn’t want to be given virtues he never displayed. He’d want to be remembered just the way he was, with all his faults and flaws, all the things that drove Jäger up the wall, about which they’ve had loud, ugly arguments. If he’d been only that, maybe it’d be easier. But he wasn’t. He was so much more.

It’s been months. The first casualty in Rainbow, the first to die in the line of duty. It was quick and probably unbelievably painful, a crash during a chase, and if Jäger was a pious man, he’d maybe call it divine retribution that the vehicles he loves so much took the one thing from him that he can’t fix, not even with every tool in the world available to him. The one thing that he loved even more than them. By now, according to everyone around him, he should be done mourning. These things happen. It’s actually astonishing it’s the first time it happened, but it had to hit someone, right? That’s statistics. Someone was bound to die. Sucks for him that it was Bandit.

Half a year should be enough to get over him. Not fully, they always hastily reassure him, he’s going to feel this loss for the rest of his life, as if that would make him feel better, but he needs to move on. The world needs saving. They have to do their jobs. Maybe, if it’d been someone else, Jäger would try to cheer up whoever was closest to them as well, maybe he’d even be spouting the same rotten, stinking, pus-filled bullshit, smiles lined with relief thank fucking God it wasn’t me or anyone I care about, and whenever it happens he feels like throwing up again. He did that a lot. He’s lost even more weight now.

He’s probably not alone in this. Blitz wears a haunted look sometimes that doesn’t suit him, though he seems to turn it off and on at will, glossing over it in the presence of others and allowing it to show when he deems himself unobserved – like an animal he’s not supposed to keep but has to let out now and then or else it starts gnawing and scratching up its cage. The frequency, however, has decreased over time. Blitz still sometimes catches himself starting to say Bandit’s name, sometimes Jäger does, too. Mute presents him with his newest technical menace and the first thing that pops into Jäger’s head is I need to show this to Bandit. Twitch asks him to go out for drinks and his first urge is to invite Bandit along. He’s bored, suddenly finds himself in his staircase, upbeat and full of anticipation when he remembers that there’s no one to drive his boredom away now.

Blitz and IQ dive into work with an unhealthy level of purpose that Jäger observes, puzzled. His entire energy has vanished, there are days on which he barely leaves his bed, finishes the half-empty water bottle next to it, nibbles on crackers or just forgets to eat at all. His blinds stay down so he can pretend it’s always night. He feels a little better about sleeping so much. His teammates are overcome with the need to distract themselves and be productive, work themselves to exhaustion, IQ sometimes not even noticing when her hands are bleeding. Jäger doesn’t need any of that. He’s plenty exhausted already.

At first, it was sympathy piled upon him like gold, as if they thought he could use it as currency to bribe someone, anyone, to lessen his sorrow. It decreased after a bit, made way for advice that felt like rocks hurled at him after he asked for gravel, meant helpfully yet only leaving bruises and unusable to him at this point in time. Now, it’s mostly nothing. Either that or insincere words that are somehow worse than the rocks because they don’t even carry the intention of benefiting him.

One suggestion that keeps popping up is that he needs to get back on his feet, meet new people, enrich his life somehow. Taking up a new hobby is an unscaleable obstacle and so he decides on heeding this other piece of advice, ventures out alone, even dresses up for the occasion and heads to a place in which neither he nor anyone else he knows has ever been. Unsurprisingly, instant regret washes over him, he associates loud music and low light and alcohol on everyone’s breath with Bandit, but even though he’s painfully tangible, it turns out it’s almost soothing to imagine him here, whispering filthy things in Jäger’s ear, keeping his eye on him, holding him impossibly close and wait, no.

That’s not Bandit doing any of those things.

He’s being dragged outside, must’ve responded positively to the touches of this guy he’s never seen before and whose name he didn’t catch. The manhandling doesn’t seem passion-induced but rather cold-blooded, goal-oriented – it’s a burly dude who doesn’t seem willing to take no for an answer. He’s not going to stop, that much is obvious.

If Bandit was here, he wouldn’t have laid a finger on him. If Bandit was here, he’d be smashing that guy’s face in despite being shorter and thinner, he’d turn into a rabid animal, fighting dirty, slamming his opponent down into the mud, breaking a rib or two, his hand as well for good measure, just grind his heel into the delicate bones, kick his face and spit on him while he’s howling in pain.

He’d do all that but he’s not here, so Jäger has to.

The guy isn’t whimpering now. He’s just lying there, half in a puddle of god knows what. Bandit would drag him away now, kiss his cheek and shove one of his hands into Jäger’s back pocket but he’s not here. So Jäger leaves, alone, without checking for a heartbeat.

#rainbow six siege #bandit #jäger #bandit/jäger #fanfic #oneshot #request #jäger NO

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alienpupy · 6 years

Photo

Yup, I have a Marvel OC. This is Slepnir Lokison, mai chaild.

NOTE: Sleipnir is actually Loki's child in the original Norse myths from which the MCU version is inspired. I did my reaserch but I also changed a lot of things about the character (bc hOLY HECC the original version is fucked up).

I got the template here:

www.deviantart.com/awkward-ner…

Bio after the cut!

Hero Name: None

Real name: Sleipnir Lokison

Nicknames: Slei, Blue, Icicle

Age: 203 earth years

Sex/Gender: Nonbinary, they/them/their or xe/xim/xir pronouns

Orientation: Asexual/Aromantic

Species: (Frost) Giant/Shapeshifter

Ethnicity: N/A

Nationality: From space

Current residency: N/A

Physical appearance:

Eyes: Pinkish-red with thin pupils and grey whites

Hair: Greyish-silver, shaved on the sides but flops on the left of their face, kind of like an overgrown mowhauk

Build: Thin but solid. Not much visible muscle but still a lot stronger than you'd expect.

Height: 9'5"

Powers:

Slei has a relatively simple set of powers, most of them simply due to their species or heritage from Loki. They've never had "proper" training per se, but learned to use them on their own for the most part. They don't hesitate to fight when they need to, but know their limits very well. When using their shapeshifting abilities, they have a reddish-pink glow to them so you can't really see the transformation itself. And the pale blue marks on their body sometimes emit a faint white glow when Slei's angry or stressed out.

Shapeshifting abilities: Slei can technically turn into anything, but they have a few specific forms they take on more often than the others because they take less energy to turn into. It's a lot more tiring to "freeform" a shape rather than to turn into one you're used to. And seeing as Sleipnir was born in their horse form, that's the one they sleep in, though they usually take on the frost giant form in their waking hours.

Nightvision: Again, self-explanatory. Slei doesn't often blink (which can be unnerving for some), and adapts extremely quickly to different luminosities, so it's very hard to blind them. They see things almost the exact same at night and in the day. Like a cat. If there's even just a tiny bit of light, they'll catch it.

Minor ice magic: Well, seeing as they're in part a Frost Giant, they can manipulate ice to a certain degree. They can't summon it, but if there's water/ice and it's cold, they can make it levitate, mold it, and use it as a weapon. They often make blades out of it and hurl them toward the enemy, ot make sheilds/walls with it. Also, Slei is naturally very cold. Litterally, their body temperature is about 5°C.

Weaknesses:

Heat: Seeing as they're a frost giant, Slei has dificulty dealing with temperatures above 20°C. They get exausted a lot faster and are just less endurant in general. Fire is their worst fear.

PTSD: Because of child abuse and neglect, Slei sometimes has panick attacks with various triggers. Sometimes just a few words or an expression can cause them. It's one of the reasons they prefer beeing alone most of the time. A few of their triggers include: talking about biological familly, being accused of things (whether they did it or not), pointing, brusque movement, the sound of flowing water and plain white walls.

Their size: This generally isn't a problem out in space, but on earth it's difficult for them to move around or stay unnoticed due to the fact that they're almost twice the size of most humans. They try their best to shrink their form when going inside but it's very tiring for them to stay that way. On the other hand, it makes harder for anyone much smaller than them to pilot Verdandi2.0 (because that ship is taylored for Slei).

Personality:

Generally quiet and reserved, a good listener, and can often give good advice. When they speak, it's often straight to the point, though when annoyed, sarcasm is their choice language. Generally easygoing but gets ticked off if someone acts/is presented as superior. They hate hierarchy, preferring to consider everyone an equal. Won't tolerate lies or an attitude, doesn't take bullshit, but apart from that they're extremely patient. Apreciates it when they're listened to. Doesn't have an extremely high self-esteem, but knows their strength and limits very well. Hates stress and pressure, and sometimes has panic attacks when threatened.(PTSD is a bitch)

Bio:

Slei is the fruit of a secret relationship between two shapeshifters, Loki Laufeyson and Svadilfari. Loki is the God of Mischief and adoptive son of Odin. Svadilfari is a giant from Jotunheim who live at Asgard for a while at the service of Odin. The two were good friends, and eventually became much more. Neither of them told anyone of their relationship. They had a child. It was an accident, really, but they did. And Loki wasn't ready to take care of it. He didn't even want to tell anyone about their relationship, and Svadil didn't take kindly to that. Neither of them had the courage to kill the baby either. So Svadil returned to Jotunheim without telling anyone, and took the baby with him.

Needless to say, Svadil was a very shitty parent. Not that he didn't try, he just... gave up pretty quickly. For the first few years he really tried but after a while he sunk in a depression. He blamed Loki for everything wrong in his life. He started drinking and became... violent. Those whips that Slei has? Those belonged to Svadil (he got them custom-made while in Asgard) and he wasn't afraid to use them. Despite how endurant and quick to heal Slei is, they still have scars on their back from them. Slei didn't have any friends during their childhhod at all, and spent most of their time out in the ice mountains, alone.

At the age of 152, Slei was fed up and left, stealing the two whips along the way. They'd spent two years making themselves a small ship out of scrap metal that they called Verdandi (they got the name from a book of asgardian legends that Svadil had. Verdandi is one of the three Nornes, sisters who weave destiny. Verdandi's name means "what is happening presently"). They crashed on a planet not too far from Jotunheim and made a friend there for the first time, Left. They stayed with Left for about 26-27 years and learned a lot from them (like how to make a ship that actually works). They built the Verdandi2.0 while there, and then left Left (Left was having a hard time supporting both of them and Slei felt like they'd stayed too long).

I'm gonna write few fics about how they end up in MCU but just so you know, it happens post-IW in an AU where everyone (eventually) comes back to life. It starts with Slei finding Tony out in space and helping him get backto earth.

Here's a ref for their horse form:

sta.sh/029xz83ym5va

#mcu #mcu oc #oc #marvel oc #marvel fancharacter #mcu fancharacter #loki laufeyson #sleipnir lokison #Jotunheim #frost giant #thor ragnarok

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thelanternwielder · 6 years

Text

Too Late - Part Nine

Author’s Note:

To the people who have been waiting for this chapter: thank you for your patience. I’ve just been too busy to work on it.

Originally, I thought I was just going to be writing one last chapter. 16,000 words later, I decided to split it into four.

Welcome to the beginning of the end of this story.

Link to the previous part: >Here<

Link to the start: >Here<

Link to the next part: >Here<

Tell me what you think. Feedback is always appreciated (and I do mean that).

The frigid bowels of the shadowed mountains still seemed to shimmer during the night time.

In the cavern that had the glossy green wall, Dr Suno was knelt at its base. Beside him was a metallic suitcase of sorts containing various portable scientific paraphernalia.

A scraping sound could be heard. He was shaving the emerald ice off the wall with a small blade and collecting it in several test tubes. He was going to take them to his laboratory to study the wall’s composition.

He was calm, methodical. His chilled demeanour was from the belief that he was safe. He had asked two soldiers to accompany him; they stood at the entrance to this cave. They were armed, and he was sure that they could handle any intruders. He was at the location so late because he betted on the idea that his enemies were human and needed sleep.

But he still had to work quickly. The longer he and the soldiers stayed, the colder it got. Soon, it would be too dangerous to be there.

He was almost done, collecting the last sample carefully.

He was so focused that he didn’t hear the footsteps behind him.

Suddenly, there was a deadly click followed by an electronic whistle, as if something was charging.

Dr Suno froze.

Then a feminine voice spoke, dripping with disgust.

“Hello Jeredy. I vant my Monsuno back and a little birdie tells me that you have it.”

His hands lowered as he looked over his shoulder cautiously.

His eyes met the end of a black pronged gun. He followed the weapon to its owner. A blonde short-haired woman with a long fringe and a scowl held it. She was wearing a thick black and red jacket over her long white coat.

Her voice became more menacing, “Give it to me now or else.”

The scientist was quite flabbergasted to see the woman. He put his blade and test tube down and swiveled around to face her a bit more.

Her eyes narrowed as they watched him slowly reveal his blue and yellow core.

He waved it indicatively, “You mean this, Charlemagne?”

“Yes,” she hissed.

She lurched forwards to grab it.

He abruptly threw it, whipping his wrist. She gasped as she saw it skate across the icy floor, spinning.

Ting!

With an explosion of azure, a navy lion with a golden mane, fearsome head armour and jagged wings materialised. It eyes met Charlemagne’s. It snarled.

There was a sudden slam behind her. She glanced down to see the suitcase, now shut, yanked from where it was.

She looked at the fleeing man, “Trying to escape, are ve, Jeredy?”

She aimed the gun at him.

He quickly peered over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

The woman glanced back at the lion.

Crackling in its jaws was a bright blue ball of electricity. Her eyes widened.

She dived to the side as the massive feline hurled the charged orb at her.

BOOM!

The cave shuddered. The emerald wall fractured slightly.

Sliding on her side, Charlemagne aimed her gun again. She wasn’t going to let the man get away.

Bang!

“AAAAAAAH!”

Dr Suno screamed as his whole body seized with the shot’s surge. He, along with his suitcase, dropped to the ground like boulders.

The woman got up, maliciously grinning. The lion looked at the fallen man and, for a moment, was processing what just happened.

She took the lion’s hesitation as a chance to get to the man’s body and snatch the core from his hand.

The cat emitted a guttural, disgruntled sound as the woman approached it.

“I have your core now, Driftblade,” she stated, “I am your rightful controller. You vill obey me.”

The giant feline was shooting daggers at the woman as she stopped in front of it.

It raised a heavy paw. She spotted it.

“Vhat are you –“

Whack!

Charlemagne was batted to the side, face slamming into the icy floor. Her gun rattled beside her, and the cat’s core bounced away.

Rapidly, she flipped herself onto her back, haphazardly grabbing her gun. The lion was stomping towards her.

She fired. The Monsuno flinched with a growl.

She pulled the trigger again.

Click.

She glanced at the gun, “Oh, now I run out.”

She chucked the gun to the side as she scurried from the hurtling paw. It missed with a thud.

She backed away, regarding the rebellious Monsuno that was once so obedient.

She gritted her teeth with frustration, “It seems that you need some disciplining, Driftblade.”

She pulled out a crimson core.

“Acro! Launch!” she slung the tiny container at the lion.

It burst, engulfing the room with a vexed vermilion.

Meanwhile, dashing down one of the tunnels, feet pounding the ground, Dr Klipse was leading the rest of his team through it. They had found out about Charlemagne’s escape. They were not there to save her, quite the opposite. In the Doctor’s words, they were there to ‘strip her of her core and his snow jacket before kicking her to the ground’ and all the words after that were lost in inaudible rage.

He saw her textile thievery as a bitter personal attack against him. Oh, how he was fuming!

He swept the others up in his wrath like a wildfire. They too wanted good old-fashioned revenge.

And so, Eklipse Resistance was charging through the ice caves, an angry mob.

The group staggered to a halt when they reached the area with the five doors. They had spread from the entrance and into it.

The Doctor closed his eyes, body tensing with the pent-up fury.

“I forgot about this part,” he grumbled.

Tinker glanced at the doorways.

He turned to his two leaders, “Er, which way?”

“Maybe we should go down the p-path,” the Professor pointed dramatically to a tunnel with his cane, “with the two fainted soldiers in front of it.”

The cane, as it hit the ground, cracked the air like a gunshot.

Everyone regarded the right-most tunnel, the one that was pointed to. Splayed along the floor were two S.T.O.R.M. soldiers, guns lying near them. One seemed to be angled away from the tunnel’s mouth, as if he attempted to flee.

The Doctor’s smirked slightly, flames flickering in his eyes. He swaggered towards the tunnel with malevolent snicker.

Dom Pyro, like an alert rabbit, gazed into the third tunnel, body pricked by an invisible force. A nervous smile appeared on his face.

“Tonight’s going to be fun,” he said.

Everybody looked at him. The Doctor’s face had reverted to its snarl.

Drezz detected the nerves, “What makes you say that?”

Suddenly, a cobalt core hurtled into the room from the third tunnel. It struck Dom’s shoe and exploded right in front of him. He staggered backwards, shielding himself from the light.

A voice announced itself confidently to the villains.

“Surprise!”

Revealing itself was the ursine glacier Hyper Lock, to the abhorrence of the group. Chase bounded to his white Monsuno’s side.

The boy’s smugness was cut short by the red core that erupted near him. Rising from the light was the parasaurolophus Sauro, plunging its drill hands into the bear’s face.

The Doctor skedaddled from the two titans as they crashed into the icy wall. The whole place shook.

Another azure core skated into the room, weaving past the Punk Monks. They began to run from the light that burst behind them.

From it emerged a long, dual-bladed, whip-like tail. Swinging like a guillotine, it smashed the frosted floor, mere centimetres from where Tinker was, cutting him off from Drezz. The former jumped out of his skin. He, along with Ratchet and Throttle, rushed into the first tunnel.

“No!” Drezz saw his comrades fleeing from the giant, quad-winged, bipedal dragon that was summoned.

The reptilian beast roared, spotting the lone Punk Monk. He backed away, glancing at where the third entrance was. The blond S.T.O.R.M. specialist had joined Chase with a cocky grin.

The Punk Monk looked back at the dragon. He dived out of the way of the snapping jaws. He ran towards the Professor who was standing back from the action.

He gazed over his shoulder. He saw Dom, Hargrave and the Doctor dodging the dragon. A laser, courtesy of the butler, slashed at the dragon’s face. It wailed.

Suddenly, Sauro skidded in front of him, bashed by the polar bear’s blow. It was blasted into the wall by a bright blue beam from the bear’s maw.

“Wah!” Drezz flinched.

He felt a tugging at his shoulder.

“Come,” the Professor commanded.

Drezz glanced at him, “And leave the others?”

“They’re perfectly c-capable of handling t-t-themselves!”

The Professor, clutching his cane and hat, scurried into the fifth entrance. Drezz, with reluctance, followed.

Chase caught a glimpse of orange at the corner of his eye.

“Dad,” he frowned, pierced by sudden worry.

He began to race towards the tunnel with the concussed soldiers in front of it. His friends had just caught up with he and Bravo.

Dax was the first to come out. He saw the boy in blue as he returned his Monsuno.

“Bleazing heck, Chase!” he exclaimed, running after the boy, “We just got here!”

The other members of Team Core-Tech trailed Dax, with Bren wheezing. As they passed Bravo, Alpha appeared from the darkness.

The ginger boy inquired, “What’s the situation?”

Bravo pointed to the battlefield, “I’m battling the ‘eclipse’ of their ‘resistance’. Chase has gone after Tallis,” he directed to the right, “I saw three of the Punk Monks go that way.”

A mighty wham came from the fight as Hyper Deadfall and Sauro clashed. The dragon was smacked in the back of the head by fiery blasts, originating from a two-tailed spider-scorpion. Sauro headbutted the lizard, causing it to stagger backwards.

Then the black beast Backslash seemed to teleport to the dragon and slashed at its throat. The reptile hollered.

Alpha, turning to his arriving team, ordered, “X-Ray, Tango, you’re coming with me. Kilo, you’re with Bravo.”

Another voice spoke, “And I will stay here with the boys.”

Everyone glanced into the tunnel’s darkness and saw Six. Alpha nodded to him before running off, followed by X-Ray and Tango.

Kilo and the boy in red flung their cores into the fight, crimson and cobalt streaking the ice.

With a cerulean light, the thick-limbed dragon Hyper Warwing materialised from underneath the spider-scorpion. It lifted the arachnid up as it waved its legs helplessly. To the butler’s fright, his Monsuno was tossed to the side with a crash.

A flash of vermilion had summoned the scythe-tusked skeleton Serno. It charged towards Backslash with a bellow.

WHACK!

Backslash was thrown across the arena. The Doctor, struck down with exasperation, gazed at the middle entrance. His eyes blazed as they landed on the bald boy.

“You!” he boomed.

“Hello Father!” Six replied with the same level of aggression.

Dom and Hargrave glanced over to see where the new voice came from.

The flames licked from the Doctor’s mouth as he shouted, “How dare you BETRAY ME!”

A slight smile appeared at the corner of Six’s mouth.

He remarked with a bitterness, “Betray you? I just moved on to a better place, Father.”

The words were the catalyst for the Doctor’s rage. You could almost see the steam wafting off his searing skin.

He commanded, body about to erupt from wrath, “BACKSLASH!” he threw his hand out to the children, “CURSED SPIRAL!”

The dark wolf-bear rushed past its master. It jumped into the air, corkscrewing rapidly, aimed at Six.

“Look out!” he gasped, leaping out of the way.

The S.T.O.R.M. specialists did the same, slamming the ground. The boys braced for the impact.

There was a shuddering smash as the black beast hit the hole, drilling into it. The children became coated in a plume of icy rubble, rattled by the quaking.

The debris settled as the shaking stopped. Coughing, the boys unburied themselves.

Six staggered to his feet and glanced at his friends, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Bravo responded, dusting himself off.

Kilo nodded. He gazed at the battlefield.

“Huh? Where did they go?”

The others turned to it. Their creatures were searching aimlessly for their opponents.

Six stared into the third tunnel, entrance widened and more cone-like from Backslash’s attack.

A grin appeared on his face.

“I have an idea,” he softly said.

Further down, the three men were fleeing virtually in the dark, hearts racing as fast as they ran. Their feet rattled the rocky floor.

Hargrave felt that he was tapped on the shoulder. He glanced over it.

He did a double-take, eyes popping.

There was an orange light rapidly growing behind them, accompanied by a whooshing warmth.

The butler spun around, whipping out his core and launcher.

“Twinsting! Protect us!” he fired at the wall.

The spider-scorpion appeared from the vermilion light, hunched in the tunnel. Its legs and pincers pressed tightly against its body, becoming crystalline and hardened. It created a diamond-like shield.

Hargrave hightailed it towards the tunnel’s exit. The other men had frantically reached it and hid behind the walls. The butler could hear a bang as his arachnid was struck by the blazing orange. It strained a squeak.

Instinctively, the butler leapt to the ground, robot arms retracting tightly to his body. He took cover.

An inferno erupted from the cave’s draconic mouth, illuminating the surrounding air. It bellowed as it sent out a shockwave to the shadowed outside area. Twinsting’s crimson aurora snaked back to its controller.

The area darkened again as the dragon calmed, chilly air becoming still. There was a silence to it as the three men tried to recover from the near-grilling.

Robotically, the butler found his feet and shook the snow from his sleeves. His mechanical arms sprung back to their normal position.

Dom and the Doctor took a few steps away from the wall. All the men regarded the tunnel with shaken disbelief.

Dom commented, eyes flickering between the Doctor and the butler as his words dripped with sarcasm, “You’ve taught him well.”

The butler was just as dry, “I’d argue that move was more your style, Dom.”

The Doctor, uninterested in the conversation, gazed to the night sky. He could see the flashing lights of the black metal goliath that hung in it, nearly camouflaged.

“Oh boy,” he breathed.

The others copied him.

The butler, trying his hardest to hide his trepidation, asked quietly, “Are we really going to take on an entire army by ourselves?”

A deranged smile spread across Dom’s face. The idea of it thrilled him, especially when he thought about the number of bodies he was going to leave behind.

The Doctor, pulling out a core, grudgingly answered his butler, “We have no choice.”

Dom ripped the cores off his sash and exclaimed with gusto, “So, let us rain the snow in their blood!”

Hargrave snapped his core to his launcher.

The three men launched their cylinders, leaving trails of crimson behind. They struck the raised surface. The auroras danced into the night time air, lighting the snowy area up.

Meanwhile, down path number one, Tinker, Ratchet and Throttle had reached the cavern that possessed the green door.

“Oh, great!” Tinker was riled, “A dead end.”

Throttle suggested, “Maybe we could hide here.”

A boy’s voice shut her idea down.

“Some hiding spot you got there!”

The Punk Monks turned around to the only exit. Blocking their path were Alpha, Tango and X-Ray. The latter looked slightly fatigued.

Ratchet complained, “Why is it you lot that have to find us?”

The children pulled their cores out, beaming with assertion.

“Strike Squad! Launch!” they threw their cores at the Punk Monks.

The adults responded with their tiny containers. The room erupted with the clashing blue, red and yellow, saturating it.

On the other side of the cavern, in the room with the emerald wall, the undead ampithere Acro was wrapped around the navy lion as it thrashed. The serpent was constricting tightly around the feline’s neck.

“Obey me!” Charlemagne ordered, “OBEY!”

The lion wheezed a roar.

Suddenly, there was a flash at the end of the room. Then a skeletal triceratops, body emblazed, rammed into the lion and the ampithere. They crashed into the green wall, snapping it ever so slightly more.

“VHAT?!” she exclaimed as she watched the dinosaur pin the other creatures to the wall.

She glanced at the origin of the light. Glowering at her were the cycloptic Professor with the banded Drezz.

“Hello C-C-Charlemagne,” the Professor spat spitefully.

Her eyes flickered between them, “You little rats. You think that you could bring me down.”

Drezz held his core up, about to throw, “Yes. Hate’s a pretty powerful emotion -”

A fourth, anguished voice interrupted them.

“Dad!”

The men glanced behind them. The woman looked past them. The three saw Chase knelt at his father’s limp body, wide-eyed and gaping. His breaths were shallow.

He gazed up and saw the villains.

His voice was strained, “What have you done?”

Drezz immediately became defensive, putting his arm down, and faced him side-on.

“Don’t look at us kid!” he pointed to the woman, “It was her.”

Hasty footsteps came from the cave’s mouth. The rest of Team Core-Tech appeared from the tunnel. Dax entered first, then Jinja and Beyal. Bren supported himself on the edge of the entrance, panting.

A growl came from the Monsunos as the triceratops was pushed back by the lion. The feline ripped the serpent off its neck and flung it towards Charlemagne. She dashed out of the way. The ground shuddered as Acro hit it.

Chase got to his feet, flooded with grief-stricken anger. He whipped out his core.

“Lock! Launch!”

The tiny cylinder created a blue trail as it left the boy’s hand. He ran from his father’s body to join the battle.

Drezz quietly said to the Professor, “Looks like this’ll be a three-way.”

“Perhaps we can u-utilise this to our a-advantage,” the Professor slyly replied.

A smile appeared on Drezz’s face.

Dax, baffled by what was happening, was tending to Dr Suno. He flipped the man over and placed his fingers on his neck.

Jinja ran up to him, “Is he…alive?”

There was a pause.

Dax eventually said, “I feel a heartbeat.”

Beyal bounded to his side. His cloak swished as he revealed his core.

“We will protect him.”

Jinja got into a fighting stance, pulling her core out.

Suddenly, there was an explosion of crimson near the gathering. Emerging from the cloud was the finned lizard Iguano.

“Blazing hell!” Dax shouted, attempting to drag the scientist to safety, “Bren! Help me!”

Bren’s ears pricked at his name. He scrambled to Dax to aid him.

Beyal and Jinja had launched their cores. With bursts of azure, their triple-headed serpent and armoured moose joined the battle. The monk’s serpent had smacked the finned lizard away from the fainted man. The lizard seemed to taunt the two. The moose chased after it.

In the entryway, Dr Suno was on his back. He opened his eyes and blinked, groaning. His eyes focused and saw Bren’s and Dax’s elated faces.

“You’re alive!” the boy with glasses exclaimed.

The scientist sat up, rubbing his head.

He then heard the ruckus. He looked to the cavern and saw the unfolding chaos.

He addressed the boys, “What is going on?”

Dax responded, “We’re here to save you, Doc.”

Bren added, rubbing the back of his head, “Yeah, we received this distress signal saying that Charlemagne was here. Then it turned out that all of Eklipse Resistance is here. And now Chase, Jinja and Beyal are fighting against Charlemagne, Professor Tallis and Drezz.”

Dr Suno glanced at his hands then patted himself down. He looked around him, now panicked.

He asked, “Were you able to get my research kit?”

“Uh,” Bren exchanged a look with Dax, “you mean that suitcase?”

“Yes. Where is it?”

Dax pointed to the cavern, “In there. We were trying to get you outta there first.”

The scientist sighed as he gazed out to the battlefield. He could risk being trampled to retrieve his kit or stay safe and come back another time. He didn’t like either of those options.

Then he heard a shout. It was distraught, in pain. He got to his feet and walked to the edge of the entrance, joined by the boys.

“Chase?” he whispered.

The scientist saw Hyper Lock fighting against the skeletal ampithere.

“Jaw of Light!” the voice cried.

A bright and powerful beam burst from the bear’s mouth. It smashed the skeleton.

“Again!”

Another bean struck the Monsuno.

“Again!”

The serpent had been bowled over, barely able to get up.

The voice sounded tearful now, “AGAIN!”

The ampithere was hit by the energised beam once more, shattering it instantly, slithering back to Charlemagne. The force was so great that it sent a shockwave through the room. It caused the other Monsunos and humans to hesitate.

Suddenly, there was an ear-splitting snap that resonated through the room. Cracks radiated through the green glistening wall from the centre, spreading like the roots of a tree.

Everyone had stopped and now was looking at it. Chase was the closest to the wall. He went up to it, noticing something odd.

The cracks on the wall had seemed to go around the X-like symbol that was printed on the ice.

He touched the symbol with his hand.

BANG!

The wall exploded. The boy jumped back. A cavity had formed in it.

In a blink of an eye, a sticky lime green tendril shot out of the hole, latching onto the boy’s belly. He glanced at it, startled.

He lurched forwards as the tendril dragged him into the hole with a yelp.

Dr Suno was struck with horror, “CHASE!”

He, along with Bren and Dax, raced into the cavern. Only now had everyone else realised that the scientist was still alive.

Charlemagne glanced at the exit, now unoccupied. She began to hurry towards it.

Whack!

She was thrown back by the triceratops’ long, bony tail. She slid as she landed, eyes closed.

The Professor chuckled, hearing the satisfying strike. He glanced at the gathering in front of the hole that had formed.

There was a scream.

Jinja.

The giant moose turned its head to the glistening wall. It bounded over. Jolted by the Monsuno’s action, the three-headed serpent rushed to help.

In the gathering, Jinja’s arm was being clung to by Bren, Dax, Beyal and Dr Suno, desperately pulling back. The girl’s other hand had been snatched by the slime.

“Don’t worry Jinja! We’ve got you,” the man reassured.

“it’s creeping up my arm!” she blurted.

Her moose was just as distressed as her, moving agitatedly. It turned around and shot at the slime with its tail. It snapped and Jinja collapsed forwards. The boys caught her.

But just as the group became hopeful, Jinja was yanked back again, slipping out the boys’ hands. She disappeared into the hole.

The group were shocked statues, at a complete loss at what to do.

Drezz took the distraction as an opportunity to loot Charlemagne. He had taken the black and red jacket and beheld it.

He quickly slipped on the forbidden garment. His entire body relaxed.

“It’s so warm,” he mumbled.

“Drezz!” The Professor hissed.

The man cocked his head. The Professor beckoned to him. He nodded, running over to him.

Drezz put his hands in the pockets. He felt a core in one of them. He glanced at it. There was a vermillion light.

He remarked, “I’ve got the jacket and Acro.”

The Professor had an urgency to his tone, “We need to g-go. Now.”

They returned their monsters and rushed towards the door. They skidded to a halt as the giant lion leapt in front of them.

The men flinched. The Professor reactively loaded his launcher and fired it.

The lion’s face was engulfed in orange as the core burst. Hyper Lock glanced over its shoulder, hearing the lion’s grunt and a whirring.

But another sound caught the bear’s attention.

“Wah!” Beyal had fallen and was dragged into the darkness by a slimy tentacle that had latched onto his ankle.

It happened so rapidly that no one could react in time. Hyper Glowblade hissed sadly, engulfed by a sudden guilt.

The snake pushed Bren, Dax and Dr Suno away from the hole with its tail. The three staggered back. It then blocked the hole with its body.

Bren looked around, needlessly adjusting his glasses.

“Um, where’s Professor Tallis and Drezz?”

The others studied their surroundings.

“Gone,” Dax answered breathily.

The scientist wandered up to the now concussed Charlemagne and plucked his core from beside her. In the instant that he glanced at it, the azure aurora of the lion snaked back into it.

He turned his gaze to the broken wall, flooded with anxiety.

Meanwhile, outside in the night, Dr Klipse, Dom and Hargrave were amidst crossfire from both above and on the ground. In the dark cloudy skies, the wyvern Dactyl slashed and struck down any Hopper that dared to get in firing range. It was hotly pursued by the swooping dragons Hyper Deadfall and Hyper Warwing. The clouds were alight with the falling carnage, air filled with hostile shrieks.

Below, the long-necked Bronto was gunning down some of the aircraft with its beams. Charging towards it was the bladed lizard Serno. It was suddenly body-slammed by Sauro.

On the other side of the battlefield, the sabre-toothed reptile Odon clashed with the undead bear Archaic Lock. The joints in Odon’s tail glowed as it whipped around to smack the bear. The ursine brute batted it away with its arm. It was barely scratched. The lizard jerked away from the bear.

The Doctor threw his hand out to the powerful monster, “Lava Bomb!”

The lizard began to belch boulders of molten lava at the bear. Each ball was shattered with fists, ground shuddering with each slam.

The Doctor’s eyes widened. Six smiled deviously.

The boy turned to his bear, “Let us show Father what you can really do. Flaming Fissure!”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow; he didn’t remember Archaic Lock having this move.

The bear’s forearms became engulfed in fiery light. It slammed the snowy ground with its palms. The ground began to shake violently. Everyone stumbled as they tried to stay on their feet.

A red-hot line shot towards Odon, melting the snow and exposing the rocky floor.

Then…nothing?

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed, “Was that really it?”

Six snickered at his father’s comment.

Suddenly, the ground beneath Odon erupted with a geyser of fire, swallowing up the lizard.

“GAH!” the Doctor jumped out of his skin as his Monsuno shattered into its crimson aurora and returned to him. It wasn’t coming out of its core any time soon.

He regarded the boy with a mix of intimidation and indignation.

The boy’s eyes burned brightly with hate, “That’s only the tip of the iceberg, Father. Oh, how I am going to enjoy showing you what we can do!”

He bellowed, pointing to his father, “GET HIM!”

The gargantuan monster roared viciously. The Doctor bolted as it charged towards him.

Hargrave gazed to where he heard the roar. His eyes grew in terror when he saw his master.

“Doctor!” the butler began to race to him.

From above, blue rings were flying towards the butler. It contacted a triple beam from the brontosaurus. The explosion caused the man to falter in his step.

He glanced up and saw the thick-limbed dragon being blasted by the brontosaurus’s beams.

He scrambled towards the bear. Using his robot arms, he shot a laser at the beast. It yowled as its eye was seared, rearing upwards.

“Archaic Lock!” Six called out to his Monsuno.

He was struck in the leg by a core. He jerked it.

“Whoa!” it burst with vermillion in front of him.

Backslash appeared and leapt onto the giant’s back. With an emblazed claw, it gouged out the bear’s other eye. The beast screeched in pain, swaying uncontrollably. Backslash backflipped off as the goliath crashed into the snow.

Six’s jaw dropped as his Monsuno lifted itself, dazed and blinded.

The Doctor goaded the boy, sneering, “What’s the matter, Six, not as indestructible as you originally believed?”

The boy snapped, “It’s not over yet!”

The big bear snarled. The black beast lunged at it.

Hargrave sighed with slight relief, realising that the situation wasn’t as dire as he first thought.

Suddenly, a line of bullets pelted the snow near his feet. He jumped like a rabbit from them. He ran from the second line that punctured the frost.

He spun around, looking for the source. He spotted a lone Hopper.

He took aim with his drill.

And fired.

With a slash of a laser, the propeller was damaged. Smoke began to billow from it. It wobbled in the air. Another beam from Bronto smashed through the helicopter.

Boom!

The aircraft was obliterated as a person plummeted to the ground. Kilo and Bravo glanced over to where they heard the explosion. They saw the flaming shards speckle the snow.

The boys were hit with astonishment when they identified who the fallen pilot was.

“The Commandant Marshall?! What’s he doing here?” Kilo wondered.

Bravo clenched his fist, spying the butler as he sauntered to the collapsed leader.

“He needs our help!” the boy declared, beginning the charge.

He was joined by a courageous Kilo.

They were abruptly blocked by the stomping three-headed brontosaurus. It snapped at the boys with all its jaws, driving them back. They watched helplessly.

The butler had his hands behind his back and a feeling of evil delight in his chest. There before him, in tattered clothes, lying face down at his feet, was the Commandant Marshall himself.

He sniggered while the weakened man roused, “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Jon Ace,” malice twinkled in his eyes, “How nice of you drop by.”

The Commandant Marshall rose to all fours and remarked combatively, “You’re not the only one with a trick up his sleeve.”

“Oh, really?” the butler raised a mocking eyebrow.

Ace looked up. His jade eyes were glowing. That wiped the smile off the butler’s face.

Ace flicked his head down, body convulsing as he arched his back. He groaned from the pain as it began to surge through every one of his cells. The butler stepped back in start.

The man’s body glowed with an eerie green aura. His muscles were tensed tightly as all the veins in his body popped to the surface. His white gloves ripped, revealing dark seized, inhuman hands with bestial claws. His limbs bulged as they grew larger and larger, shredding through the navy uniform, leaving nothing but shorts. As he stood up slowly, a long, pulsating tail whipped from his rear. His skin was now an unnatural blackened teal as visible vessels running along his body and limbs quivered with each heartbeat. The skin was stretched over his face, exposing the eyes, mouth and slitted holes that replaced his nose. Rupturing through the surface of his shoulders and forearms were giant crimson blades, and, through his chest and back, large gemstones of the same shade. He snarled like an animal as his teeth sharpened. Closing his mouth, two incisors stuck out, pointing upwards. The aura disappeared, leaving a monster heavily breathing in its wake.

Hargrave regarded the beast with horror-filled eyes and shocked speechlessness, backing away. He recognised the creature.

He was only able to muster one sentence, “I have wondered how you were able to change back…”

In the distance, Kilo and Bravo were gobsmacked at the transformation.

“Dude,” the blond one said, “did our leader just turn into a monster?”

The other crossed his arms, chortling, “Yeah. I don’t think he needs our help anymore.”

A head of the brontosaurus turned around as the other two watched the boys. It was struck with panic.

The dark green goliath grinned, showing off its daggers, as its gaze reached the butler. The dwarfed man clenched his jaw, incredibly wary.

And for good reason: the last time the man had seen the monster, the latter had a mind-control device attached to him to subdue him. He also knew that Jon Ace would not have taken kindly to being the Doctor’s prisoner and slave.

And he was about to bear the full grunt of it.

His robot arms twitched nervously. He was being stared down by the monster.

Suddenly, the creature sprung into a sprint. He was stampeding towards the butler.

A clawed hand swiped at the man as he jumped to the side. He changed direction and scurried away from the other monstrous hand.

The goliath spun around, whipping his arm with the motion.

Whack!

Hargrave was backhanded by the beast. He was airborne for a moment before smacking the ground, sliding into the snow face-first.

Lifting himself weakly, he spluttered, spitting the snow out of his mouth.

There was a deathly snarling from behind. He shrunk ever so slightly, heart wrenching. He spun around and sat up.

The goliath loomed over him, backlit by the flashes of light from the battle. The bangs were like thundercracks as the creature’s eyes struck him with emerald electricity.

There seemed to be a roar from another Monsuno, a quiet distressed rumbling.

The butler was paralysed. His heart tried to rip out of his chest to flee. He futilely attempted to rationalise with the beast before him.

His voice was shaky, “Surely this is overkill,” he recoiled further, “especially on poor little me?”

The creature’s expression switched to one of condescending distrust. All hope the butler had for surviving the situation had evaporated in that instant.

Suddenly, the man found that something had coiled around his leg, squeezing tightly. He immediately looked down with frightened eyes and saw a thick, red, pulsing tentacle rendering his limb immobile.

Before he could react, he was yanked forwards and dragged through the snow. With a snap of the goliath’s tail, the butler was catapulted into the air.

He was heading towards the raised surface. Dom and the Doctor had been backed onto it, still commanding their Monsunos while surrounded by bestial bellows.

The butler crash-landed with a clumsy roll. The men cocked their heads to him.

“Hargrave?” the Doctor was perplexed by the butler’s entrance.

The butler stumbled to his feet, hand on head as he swayed a little.

“What happened to you?” Dom was just as bamboozled as the Doctor.

There was a fearsome snarl, unlike any of the other monsters on the field. The Doctor turned to it.

His eyes grew exponentially, now actually scared.

The giant, sapient monster was lumbering towards them. It was able to strike the brontosaurus that stampeded towards him with a swift uppercut without truly losing his stride.

“Toxic Ace,” the scientist’s words were tinged by bitter disbelief, “Impossible!”

Dom, at the corner of his eye, had spotted the strange creature. Its presence made him uneasy.

The butler regarded the beast, trembling. He took one step back.

Then another, heart pounding as the banging around him almost became a blurred sound.

And one more step.

He plummeted downwards with a yelp.

The men turned around. In the butler’s place was a circular hole in the ground.

Dom wandered up to the hole, peering down it. Darkness.

He glanced at the stunned Doctor, then back at the hole again.

He jumped.

“DOM!” the Doctor shouted desperately, “DON’T LEAVE ME!”

He raced to the hole’s edge as it slammed shut. It was sealed by a stone slab that had a symbol engraved into it: a curvy X with the line through it.

His eyes flicked back up. Toxic Ace had climbed onto the raised surface, shooting him down with an intense glare.

The gaze was broken when a falling wyvern crashed on top of the goliath.

A pain-stricken grunt came from behind the Doctor. He glanced over his shoulder. Backslash had also been herded onto the raised surface. It appeared to be badly beaten, reduced to a crawl.

The Doctor looked around, realising that he was completely surrounded. Even the skies swarmed with danger. For a moment, he became petrified.

The two S.T.O.R.M. elites and the bald child climbed onto the snowy platform on opposite sides.

Six ordered the man, “Give up! You have lost!”

Triggered by his voice, the Doctor’s expression changed to utter spite. He began laugh darkly. The boys’ eyes narrowed with suspicion.

The man spoke with menacing grandeur, “Oh, but Six,” he looked the boy dead in the eye, taking his words as a challenge, “it’s not over yet!”

He boomed his command, “BACKSLASH! MALEVOLENT HOAX!”

The black beast’s ears pricked as it sprung to its feet. It leapt into the air, now a blur.

Suddenly, there were dozens of Backslashes. The battlefield soon became swamped. There was nothing but vicious snarling and claws as each of the beasts attacked.

It was utter anarchy.

Meanwhile, down path number one, it was comparatively less chaotic. In fact, it almost seemed to be controlled. In the air, an undead dragon clashed with an organic UFO. Below, a beaked insect attempted to stab a black and white wolf but constantly missed. A skeletal ankylosaur kept charging towards the giant stag beetle, the same one that could fly, and failing miserably to strike it.

It appeared that the Punk Monks were going to lose this battle.

But they had managed to manoeuvre themselves towards the exit while the children’s backs were to the shiny wall.

As Tinker’s reptile fought, he noticed that the bespectacled boy’s movements were delayed. Despite the fact that he had frequent powernaps throughout the day, X-Ray was still tired.

This gave Tinker an idea.

He called out to the Punk Monk with pigtails, “Hey Throttle! You want a target that you can hit?”

She looked over to him. He gestured to the boy with glasses.

She nodded, giggling.

She faced her Monsuno, “Mallus!” the ankylosaur skidded to a stop and looked at her.

She threw her hand out to the boy, body electrified by malevolence, “Charge!”

With a bellow, the ankylosaur galloped towards the S.T.O.R.M. specialist. He was too focused on his battle, looking up.

Tango was jolted with shock, realising what was about to happen.

“X-Ray! Look out!”

The boy glanced down, hearing his name.

“Huh?”

A clubbed tail swung around.

Wham!

He was thrown into the glassy wall.

The ankylosaur was driven away by the beetle’s blue shots.

Alpha saw his friend.

He called, “X-Ray!”

The boy with glasses got up and groaned, “I’m alright.”

The red-headed boy was suddenly blasted back by something. He too smacked the wall.

He looked up.

The burly woman fist-pumped, “Bullseye!”

The boy growled, gritting his teeth. The underhandedness infuriated him.

“Follow Shot!” he ordered his Monsuno.

The wolf’s tail spawned diamonds that hovered around its body. The shapes fired golden lasers at the insect. It screeched, overwhelmed by the attack.

X-Ray placed his hand on the wall, steadying himself. It was on the green door-like section.

And just like a door, the section slid down. X-Ray lost his balance.

“AAH!” he fell through the door, plunging into the darkness.

Alpha gasped, rushing to the door. Tango did the same, juggling her attention between her Monsuno and the wall.

“Gone!” Alpha was baffled at the boy’s disappearance.

He stared into the darkness with a frown.

Shooting out of the shadows was a slimy emerald tentacle. It splatted onto Alpha’s chest.

“What the Hell?!”

His body jerked forwards as he was dragged into the hole.

A hand grabbed the back of his collar.

Tango pulled back, attempting to resist the tentacle.

She lost her footing and slipped.

The children vanished into the hole.

Watching from afar, near the entrance to the cave, the Punk Monks witnessed the unfolding drama with growing smiles.

Ratchet chuckled, “That takes care of them.”

And with that, they returned their Monsunos and fled.

Unbeknownst to them, all the souls who had been snatched were tumbling down tunnels, deeper and deeper into the dark mountains.

#monsuno #fanfic

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lady-byleth · 7 years

Text

@elven-child this should work

She found David in the winter garden, lounging on a rock in the middle of the pond. His eyes were closed, his pose relaxed, and his arms crossed over the hoodie beneath his head. The late sunlight painted his olive skin golden.

Maria felt a surge of irritation at his calm when everyone else was running themselves into the ground trying to get an understanding of the situation but buried it quickly. This was no time to start a fight, at least not as blatantly as she wanted to. She needed to do this carefully, manipulate him into doing what she wanted.

So she kept her voice calm and her gait even as she approached him. “This looks comfortable,” she said by way of greeting.

David cracked one eye open, moss green and gold flashing up at her, before he closed it again with a sigh. “It was,” he said but didn't move when Maria hopped across the rocks toward him. The small waterfall behind them splashed her face with cool mist. The stones were a little slick but not enough to send a practised fighter like her into the water.

“I didn't see you on the battlefield earlier,” she stated as she settled down beside him. “Chicken?”

David glanced at her again, smiled ruefully. “Jonah wasn't feeling up to it,” he said.

Ah. His favourite excuse. “Must be hard to play nursemaid to a lost cause.”

His eyes flew open and he levelled a glare like burning coals at her. “What do you want, Missy?” he hissed. Jonah was such a sore topic for him. It never failed to rile him up.

“Oh nothing,” she replied, though she couldn't keep the smirk off her lips. “Just wondering whether the top student here has finally grown soft.” Somehow this made him relax again which went against her plans. Damn it. Her mind worked lightning fast. “Or are you really just a coward after all?”

He regarded her for a long moment before shifting a little and closing his eyes again, tilting his face into the sun. “Ana is the top student,” he drawled. “If you really have the guts to call her a coward to her face, I'll make sure to stay out of firing range.”

Maria snorted disdainfully. “I didn't think you were the type to be modest,” she said lightly, mocking.

“I'm really not,” David chuckled. “I could take you with my eyes closed.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “Oh?” she said. “Big words for someone chained to a liability.” Maria could see him try not to react but his shoulders stiffened and his lips pressed together into a hard line. She didn't give him time to speak however but continued. “I wonder how much better you would be without Jonah constantly dragging you down. It must be really frustrating to know you could be the best if not for him holding you back at every turn.” She smirked. “Tragic, really.” David grit his teeth. “He's not holding me back,” he growled. “If you had a heart you would know that caring for someone is a strength, not a weakness.”

Maria snorted. “Love is not productive,” she said. “It's a chain that's secured to a mountain. A mountain resting on your shoulders.”

“Wow, how poetic” David drawled. “I didn't know you care.”

“I don't,” Maria replied. Now was the moment she could either win or lose this. She picked her words carefully. “I'm actually somewhat glad I'm not bothered by love or attachment. Nothing is holding me back, making me weak. Unlike you.”

“Jonah doesn't make me weak.”

“Doesn't he?” Maria dialled the shock up to make it as fake as possible. “Then why don't you prove it?”

David now smiled that shark's smile he was known for, all teeth and no warmth. “What do you suggest?”

“A contest of skill.”

“That's no challenge at all,” David said with a yawn. Maria felt that stab of irritation again and let it go. With a flick of her wrist she encased the knives hidden in her clothes in telekinetic energy, pulled them forth with a thought and levelled them at David. When he didn't react she focused on one and hurled it at his exposed throat.

It stopped a hairsbreadth from his skin. One swallow and it would draw blood. Maria scowled.

“You're not going to dodge?” she asked.

David shrugged. “What's the point?” he asked. “You can't hurt me anyway.”

“Oh no?” Her anger flared and with a violent burst of energy she hurled all her knives at David. No one mocked her like this! No one--

To her shock the knives burst apart with a sound like breaking glass. The tiny fragments felt cold against her skin, sparkling in David's black hair like stardust and reflecting in his green eyes. Maria caught herself quickly and glanced across the pond, where she caught a passive, deep blue stare. She smirked with as much venom as she could muster.

“Jonah.”

David's younger twin regarded her evenly as he stepped closer, the water freezing beneath his feet to carry him across to stand beside his brother. They were a strange pair, the two of them. David was made of sharp lines and edges, Jonah of smooth and soft curves. His expression remained unchanged even when Maria added a touch of mocking smugness to her own look.

“I see you still follow your brother around like a faithful dog,” she said.

Jonah didn't react apart from glancing at David, who snorted and pushed to his feet, throwing the hoodie over his shoulder. The leather bands at his wrist slipped down to reveal a nasty scar. Flames danced in his eyes when he looked back at her, drawing the gold out. “You want a serious competition?” he asked.

Maria nodded. “No more bullshit,” she said. “Show me you haven't grown soft.”

This got a reaction from Jonah. The air froze in Maria's lungs and only years of learning to control herself completely kept her from chocking. David noticed the change and quickly stepped up close to his brother, gentle fingers brushing a stand of gold out of Jonah's eyes. “Don't,” was all he said and the cold shattered. Maria could breathe free again. David turned toward her. The sun was setting, making the twins' olive skin glow red and David's sharp grin appear smeared with blood. “You will regret this, Missy.” Then he snatched up his brother's hand and led him away, leaving her behind between ice and broken blades.

Oh they would make her life interesting again. No matter how much she hated them, she had to give them this; they were the only ones worthy of facing her.

And this time, she would crush them into dust. Of this she was sure. And yet...

Why did she feel as if David had gotten exactly what he wanted?

David could hear Jonah nervously crack his knuckles where he trailed a few feet behind him, and could feel the question burn on his brother's tongue through the link. He glanced over his shoulder but Jonah avoided his eyes, gaze falling down to the floor. David couldn't read his expression in the pale light of the moon, or through the golden hair that tumbled over his face.

The confrontation with Maria had been over an hour ago now, and still Jonah had remained quiet. Not that he was usually one to talk a lot, but David prided himself in being someone Jonah could relax around. Now, his baby brother had tension running through his shoulders, mouth drawn in an unhappy frown.

“Hey,” David said after another long moment of silence, coming to a halt near the Japanese Garden doors. He kept his voice gentle but his tone direct. “Talk to me.”

Jonah, in true Jonah fashion, mumbled something incoherently into the collar of his white sweater, hands hidden in the overlong sleeves. He would have probably pulled his hair over his face had David not made him wear it up today – if he was going to wear a sweater David was at least going to make sure Jonah wouldn't die of heatstroke because he was a stubborn little idiot and the people who ran this joint didn't know how air conditioning worked –, so he fiddled with the long ponytail instead. He was also pouting. A good tactic. He knew exactly that a pout like that would make anyone back off. Not his brother though.

“You do realise that doesn't work on me, right?” David said, hands on his hips. Jonah pouted some more but quickly dropped the act. Now he just looked miserable.

“Is she right?” David almost didn't hear him, his voice was so quiet. “Do I hold you back?”

David looked at him for a long moment, at the timid hunch of his shoulders, the too big sweater that made his olive skin – the one trait they shared – look even darker, the golden hair so unlike his own, and decided right then and there he would make sure Maria would look like a burned piece of wood by the end of the week. He sighed.

“Don't be an idiot,” he said. Then he turned on his heel, threw open the garden doors, and strode outside without looking back.

Jonah fell into step beside him, apparently already mollified. “So how are you going to beat Maria?”

“You mean how are we going to beat Maria.”

Jonah shrugged. “Same differences.”

“Fair enough,” David conceded with a snort. “I was thinking we increase the output during training sessions and crush her into dust.” He emphasised his point by pounding his fist into the palm of his other hand. When he looked up Jonah was giving him a rather unimpressed look. “What?”

“That's no plan, that's just your blood thirst speaking.” “Wha--?!”

“You can't just assume she hasn't improved since the last time,” Jonah interrupted. “She wouldn't have challenged you--” “Us!” “--whatever. She wouldn't have issued her challenge --” He stuck out his tongue with a smirk, David rolled his eyes – “if she didn't think she was strong enough to win. She's counting on you being, you know, you. And you're reckless.”

David grumbled. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“Of course I am. Don't forget who is the smart twin around here,” Jonah shot back.

“Wow, such modesty,” David deadpanned. “Sometimes I regret that I'm the only one who knows the real you.” That got him a huff and a head shake but he didn't care. Jonah was relaxed and no longer thinking about what Maria had said. David counted that as a win, though a cautious one for now. “You didn't try to stop me.”

Jonah kicked at a pebble and sent it straight into the trunk of a tree to their right. It bounced back and this time he kicked it hard enough that David lost sight of it. “From what?”

“Don't even try,” David said and tried to swat the back of Jonah's head but Jonah ducked out of the way. “I know that you know I've been waiting for this.”

“I also know that you didn't fight today just to piss Maria off.”

“Missy is predictable,” David said and shrugged. “And I'm bored. She'll be a good distraction.”

Jonah turned away from him sharply and took the path to the left that would bring them closer to the stream they could hear gurgling about twenty meters away. The sudden movement caused his ponytail to smack David in the face.

“You did that on purpose,” David accused, pulling one long hair out of his mouth. Jonah didn't answer.

David followed after him, his hands in his pockets. “So,” he said. “We'll have to collect points during actual combat mission then.” Out of the corner of his eyes he saw his brother nod.

“I'll...” Jonah trailed off, chewed on his lip, then sighed. For a while they just walked, the sound of their boots on stone and the trickle of the stream the only sound in the silence. Jonah looked down into the crystal clear water, though his eyes were far away.

David waited him out and plucked a flower from a plum tree blooming next to the path. Gently he pushed it into Jonah's hair, which got him a small smile in return. Only when they reached the small bridge that crossed the stream where it was at its most narrow did they stop walking. Jonah crossed his arms over the side of it and watched the koi fish and water bugs as one tried to devour the other. “I'll come out more often, I suppose,” he said finally.

David stepped up next to him, their shoulders brushing. When Jonah leaned into him subtly he returned the pressure. “You don't need to do that,” he said. “I can ask Masaki or Charlize to--”

“No, I'll do it!” Jonah said between clenched teeth. “It doesn't mean anything if you beat her without me. It would just prove her point.”

So he was still bothered by it. David squeezed his twin's wrist reassuringly. “You don't have to prove anything to her,” he murmured. “I know you don't like fighting.”

“No, I don't,” Jonah agreed. “But it's not her I need to prove this to.”

“Jonah...” David sighed and shook a few strands of black hair out of his eyes with an irritated growl. “You've got nothing to prove!”

“Oh no?” Jonah's fingers dug deep into his own arms and he leaned away from David. “You're not the one who needs constant protection, or who needs to be led through life by the hand. You're amazing and not a socially awkward disaster that can't even talk to his classmates without freezing up. You don't really need me.”

“Oh, come on.”

“It's true!” Jonah hunched over more. “I don't even have powers of my own! I was implanted, can't control it at all. All I'm good for is sharp shooting and we never even need that!”

They had been over this before, it shouldn't even be a topic any more with them, but David had learned long ago that Jonah could brood over something for years if he was so inclined. He just hated that it had to be this one thing that still bothered him.

“You're wrong, you know.”

Jonah sniffed, scrubbing the tears away David would not acknowledge for his sake. “What?”

“You're wrong,” David repeated. “About me not needing you.”

“Yeah, right,” Jonah scoffed, though it sounded broken and unconvincing. “Because you definitely need me so you can be the cool guy everyone likes instead of a freak no one knows how to deal with.”

“Okay, first of all, you're not a freak,” David said, punching Jonah's arm and making him yelp. “You're just different, and that's nothing to be ashamed of. And second of all--” he continued, loud enough to make Jonah's protests fall flat, “-- I do need you.”

Jonah didn't speak but sniffed again. David ignored the glare he received for it and reached out to brush a stray tear away with his thumb. “Knowing you're here makes me strong.” Jonah gave him a sceptical look but once again, David ignored it. “We're brothers. Partners. I'm the Striker and you're the Conduit. That's who we are, and that's how I want it to be. Sure, I can fight with Masaki or Charlize just fine, but I'll never understand on instinct what they want from me before they say it. I only have that with you. Do you know why?”

Jonah leaned back against him. “Why?”

“Because we're family,” David said, force behind his words. “We're family, just the two of us, and I'd fight a god to keep it that way. I'd challenge him with Charlize as Conduit, I'd destroy him with you. If it were just me...well, I doubt I'd fight so hard to come back every time. I wouldn't have a reason to.” He shrugged. “Doc Summers would probably go on a rant about how unhealthy that is, but I don't care. I don't care that you have trouble dealing with people, or that you need me to hold your hand sometimes, or that you need implants and that they are defective. Hell, anyone who has a problem with that can just go fuck themselves after I bust their teeth out. You're you, and you're perfect the way you are. So stop worrying your pretty little head about it before I lose my patience.” He had never and would never lose his patience with Jonah but it just...had to be said. Sort of. Well, joking around made him feel better. He wasn't used to being all emotional and stuff.

Again, silence ruled. A soft breeze carried the scent of nature to David's nose, the pollen making him sneeze. Stupid hay fever. Somewhere to their left a frog croaked, and an owl hooted not far away.

“That must've shaved like five years off your lifespan right there,” Jonah mumbled finally, a tiny smile curling his lips. “Did it hurt?”

David shoved his head down playfully and tugged it back up by the ponytail. “Shut up, dipshit!” he growled with no heat. “Just accept it and go back to being my smartass little brother.”

Jonah chuckled. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” David repeated.

Jonah nodded and linked their arms at the elbow. He sighed. “Okay.”

David smiled and dropped a swift kiss into his brother's hair. “Okay.”

They would be alright. They always were.

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missmeikakuna · 5 years

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Chad and the Incel Chapter 3

Rated: M

Fandom: Original Fiction (but inspired by the Virgin vs Chad meme)

Relationship type: Male/Male with a bit of Female/Female (the lesbians are adorable, btw) and unrequited Male/Female (in other words, the guys are bisexual).

Description: Chad is, well, a Chad, or at least he looks like one. He’s got his sights set on the cool nerd Becky and enlists the help of her shy incel ex-friend Noah, offering to help him get the gorgeous girl (Stacy) he desperately wants. Noah is reluctant to help, believing that he will be stuck in inceldom forever, but Chad’s interest in his life gives him hope. When their plans go awry, they start turning their romantic attention towards each other.

Content Warning: Given the subject matter, you can guess that this story has dark themes in it, such as suicide and self-harm (plus the mental health issues that often cause them), sexism, slut-shaming homophobia, biphobia and transphobia. There is also swearing and some mentions of sex but nothing too explicit (hence the M rating as opposed to an Explicit rating).

3rd Post: [Experiment] (POLL) Who is the enemy?

Tyrone was at it again. He was going on and on about the other team in their upcoming game being a bunch of pussies, despite knowing that most of the other team’s members were twice his size.

Chad ignored him, preferring to smile at Noah, who ignored him. The squeak of sneakers against the unpolished wooden floor filled the sweaty room.

‘What’s the point of bragging when they’re not even here?’ Chad finally asked Tyrone while picking up a dodgeball. He frowned when he saw Noah just standing there but gave him a thumbs up when he instinctively caught a ball. Noah glared at him before pushing his fringe over his eyes and hiding behind it.

Tyrone’s glare was even more vicious. ‘What, you scared? Think the other team can hear us all the way from their shitstain of a school?’ He hurled a ball at Becky, who fumbled but ended up catching the ball. She smirked at him before frowning as if she’s made a huge mistake.

She was right, in a way. ‘You said dodgeball was the moron’s sport!’ Tyrone yelled. ‘You a hypocrite or something?’

Becky looked at the ground. ‘Middle school doesn’t count,’ she murmured. She then raised her voice. ‘We all said stupid things then. You once bragged about sleeping with a teacher and there was a needless investigation all because of you.’

The teacher blew her whistle. ‘Tyrone, go to the side of the court. Becky, focus on the game.’

Instead of following orders, Tyrone stormed up to Becky. Chad’s blood became magma just waiting for him to erupt.

‘So now you‘re talking again? Decided not to be a frigid bitch? It’s been a while. Were you afraid that if you talked in homeroom that Shakespeare’s jizz’ll come out of your mouth?’

Before the teacher could chastise him for using foul language, Chad shoved him to the ground. He leaned down and grabbed him by the collar. Tyrone flailed his arms about in the hopes of landing a punch but each punch had the strength of a baby mouse-deer. Chad’s punches, on the other hand, carried the strength of an African elephant whose family was poached. Soon Tyrone’s face was covered with blood. Chad gave him one last shove into the ground before standing up and looking at Becky with a hopeful smile. Becky scrunched her nose at him before crossing her arms and looking away.

Noah, on the other hand, stared at him with wide eyes and a mouth that constantly shifted from a grin to a frown and vice-versa.

Chad was sent to the Principal’s office where he was given three weeks in detention rather than a suspension or expulsion like one would expect.

‘I know how you boys are,’ the Principal said. ‘Just don’t do it again.’

Chad returned to class just as the bell for lunchtime buzzed around the gym. He waved at Becky as she brushed past him, refusing to look at him.

He grabbed her arm but Becky tore her arm away from him.

‘What do you want?’

Chad smiled at her. ‘So, uh, what did you think?’

Becky closed her eyes and sighed. ‘I have no interest in your penis-measuring contest with Tyrone. And besides, you know he’s a lot weaker than you. You may as well have beaten up a baby. Not exactly impressive.’

Chad’s blood went from magma to ice, rendering the act of movement intensely difficult. All he could do was shiver as Becky continued to glare at him.

‘Are we done here?’ Becky asked. Chad paused before nodding.

Noah left the gym last, waiting for everyone else to go before him. When he saw Chad he did the same smile-frown-smile thing he was doing before.

‘You okay?’ Chad asked him.

Noah, caught off guard, stepped back into the doorway. ‘Uh, yeah. I’ve never seen a real white knight before.’

Chad flexed his arm. ‘Finally someone appreciates what I did.’

Noah looked down at different spots on the ground, not focusing on a single spot for very long.

‘I don’t know if I appreciate it, per se,’ he whispered.

He didn’t talk to Chad for the remainder of the day.

At home he decided to make two posts to Incels.me, one a blog post about the day.

Anicel1919- [Soy] A Chad resorts to being a White Knight

You’d think a Chad wouldn’t need to do this since he can get any femoid he wants, but I guess we live in a weird sexual economy where even a Chad has to prove himself to a femoid to get her approval. I swear to God, feminists ruin everything.

So there’s this Tyrone (or at least, he’s named Tyrone. Doesn’t look like one.) who’s picking on this Becky that Chad likes, so he beats him up.

I’m honestly kind of conflicted. It was kind of nice to see him be all brave but at the same time I remember I used to be a white knight until I learned it was pointless for me. Femoids only care about chivalry when someone who isn’t a sub-8 is doing it.

Or at least that’s what I thought. I overheard Chad talking to the girl afterwards and she wasn’t impressed. What an ungrateful bitch! I bet she thinks she has to play hard to get or some bullshit like that.

He then posted a poll.

Anicel1919- [Experiment] (POLL) Who is the enemy?

Femoids

Feminists

Parents

Bullies

r/inceltears (more like Cucktears, am I right?)

Chads

A few days later, there were fairly even splits between each answer, though, to Noah’s surprise, the Chads option was a little smaller in popularity.

‘Huh…’ he whispered while tapping his fingers against the desk in his room.

At school, Noah stood next to Stacy’s locker. He reminded himself of when Chad took the initiative to defend Becky and that, while it didn’t work on someone like Becky, it could work on Stacy.

His heart stopped for a moment and then quickly went into overdrive when he saw Stacy saunter towards her locker. His smile faltered when he realised that she was going past her locker.

He followed her, making sure he was a few steps behind so as not to look suspicious.

She strutted to the library, which Becky was just then entering. Noah hid behind a corner just outside the library.

‘Um, uh, can I… talk to you?’ Stacy asked, her confident walk collapsing into a pigeon-toed, slightly bent-over stand.

Becky walked backwards out of the library and smiled softly. ‘Sure.’ Stacy stood there in silence, fidgeting with the hem of her short sundress. ‘Sure,’ Becky repeated a little louder, sending a shock through Stacy’s spine.

‘Oh, yeah. So, um, You’re really… prart… uh, I meant to say pretty but then I ended up trying to say smart and they just kind of… mushed together.’ Becky frowned and raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m sorry! So, this is going to sound really weird and I get it if you end up being grossed out by me, but… I kind of… like you.’

By this point Stacy was covering her face. Becky moved her eyes from side to side.

‘Oh. I… I find you to be pretty as well. Maybe not ‘smart’ since I don’t know your grades, but you also seem kind enough. I should probably focus on my studies, though. I’m not grossed out by you. I like you too, in fact.’

Stacy nodded, her lips contorted into a smile that didn’t belong. ‘That’s fair. Um, if end up being less busy for whatever reason, let me know.’

With a nod of her own, Becky went back into the library. Noah’s nails tried to dig into the wall by the corner but this only hurt him. His mouth was wide open and so were his eyes.

He took out his phone and messaged Chad.

The school library’s kind of shit, so let’s go to this library near my place today. We should look for books about seduction.

Chad agreed and headed there after detention was over. This particular library, a wide one-story building that stood in front of a lake, made him forget to breathe for a moment. Everything, from the floor to the desks to the bookcases, was covered with spray paint, the vagueness of each tag implying that this was an intentional decision on the part of the library owners. Chad was careful with his steps until he realised that the broken mirror shards on the floor were stuck to it and wouldn’t hurt him. The lights flickered but were still bright enough to read a book under. The bookshelves themselves were shaped like high school lockers with each ‘locker’ opened. The library smelled of paint and old paper.

Noah snickered at Chad’s dropped jaw. ‘Cool, huh? The selection’s even cooler. I’d spend the rest of my life here if I could.’

Much to Chad’s surprise, Noah practically skipped to the dated computer in the corner of the room. To even more of Chad’s surprise, the computer worked like new and had modern features despite looking like it belonged in the early 90s. Noah typed the words ‘seduce women’ into the library search engine, causing Chad to wince and look from side to side. He relaxed his shoulders when he saw that the coast was clear.

Noah headed to one of the bookshelves and searched for the book. He then headed to another section and pulled out what looked like an anime, but as a book. Chad held back laughter when he saw the title of this book-anime. ‘Is it Wrong to Seduce Girls During the Zombie Apocalypse?’

‘Is that an anime?’ Chad couldn’t help but ask as they sat at two oak desks that the library owners had pushed next to each other.

Noah scrunched his nose up for a second but let it go and smiled when he noticed the twinkle of genuine curiosity in Chad’s eyes.

‘It’s a manga, actually. Like anime, but in comic book form.’ Chad nodded in understanding. ‘You can learn a lot about Japanese culture from reading these. I also have a feeling if I try a bunch of stuff from these, one of the techniques is bound to work.’

‘Is... that how it works?’ Chad asked as nicely as he could.

Noah glared at him. ‘Shut up.’ He abruptly opened the manga and pushed the other book towards Chad. ‘Get a Date in Five Easy Steps,’ it read. Chad held up the book and marveled at how thick it was.

Instead of reading the book, he stared at Noah, who was flipping through pages as fast as a competitive speed reader. His thick eyebrows went all the way down to his eyes and his lips went red from him biting them.

‘So, uh, what made you decide to come here?’ Chad asked him, looking away and trying to play off the ever so slight speed increase in his heartbeat as nothing.

Noah slammed the manga shut, his tears welling up. ‘Well, I… I saw Stacy… I saw her… I saw her…’

‘Are you about to-’

‘No I’m not! You think I’m a faggot or something like that?’ Chad felt tempted to look left to right again as an old memory threatened to punch its way back into his consciousness. ‘Anyway, Stacy… confessed to Becky.’

‘Wait, what? So Stacy’s a…’

‘I guess so. Well, unless she gets asked out by some Chad, I’m guessing.’ Noah lowered his voice to a spat out whisper. ‘Fucking femoids.’

‘Fem-what?’

‘Femoids. You know, women. They don’t even deserve that name. They’re all sluts. If you want to be shorter, you can call them foids.��

‘Is this to do with that black… pell thing?’

‘Blackpilled. Yeah. I’m an incel.’ Noah groaned at Chad’s question marked face. ‘Involuntary celibate. I don’t want to be celibate, but I can’t help it when no woman even talks to me.’

‘Have you tried talking to them?’

‘Don’t give me that shit. You know if I tried that a girl would just call me ugly or creepy and run away screaming. I’d rather not end up in a jail cell for a crime I didn’t commit.’

‘So why are we here?’

Noah was silent for a moment. ‘Well, to be honest, you managed to fool me for a second.’ He stood up, put the books away and headed out of the library. Chad chased after him.

‘We can still hang out, right?’

‘Why would someone like you want to be friends with someone like me?’

Chad shrugged. ‘I guess you’re kind of interesting. I want to ask you more questions about this blackpill thing.’

Noah paused, then nodded with a frown. ‘I’ll… see you at school, then.’ He turned around and waved goodbye with his back to Chad. He then put his headphones on and slowly inhaled and exhaled.

At the school library, Becky kept reading the same sentence multiple times as Stacy’s words resonated in her mind. She eventually realised that she was playing with her ponytail and gave up on reading the textbook.

‘Shit,’ she whispered.

#chad vs incel #chad x incel #bisexual #Incel #romance #drama #original fiction #breaking stereotypes #lesbian #Chad and the Incel

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hotcocosharing · 7 years

Text

Done With You Part 5 (KBTBB Angst)

Me as OC Hana hobo4lyfe11 as Eisuke

Eisuke’s POV

HANA! I’M COMING TO GET YOU!” were the last words spoken. The last words that captivated the attention of every man below. The last words uttered before the dance of bullets began, and first-blood was shed.

Nothing screams, “Come ambush me,” more than Ota literally screaming, “Anyone who wants to stop me can come and get me!” I guess thats why he was in charge of being the decoy.

Within a fraction of a second, several hundreds of gunshots can be heard. From the trees and bushes, flies swarms of projectiles that follow purposeful paths. The night is lit up from the sparks of light bouncing off of our cover. What better distraction is there than a full, blown-out war?

I use the diversion to disappear into the building through the back door and ascend the dark infrastructure slowly and cautiously. Finding my way up to the top floor, all evidence of the stealth approach is thrown out of the window as the sound of a resounding bang forces my pace to quicken, faster than I’ve ever moved before. Should I not die from the rescue mission itself, I felt like I was sure to die from worry and desperation alone.

The locked door separating me, from my Hana, may as well have not existed at all, because the adrenaline rushing through my blood, broke down the barrier like it was nothing. It felt effortless and easy, but promised a painful morning the next day. Before I even had a chance to assess my surroundings, a shadow looms over me, increasing in size as a dark red clothed body flies in my direction and throws me off balance.

“Baba?” I grunt, shoving him off of me.

“OH! Boss, you made it!” the thief sings cheerfully, all smiles, unbefitting of the situation and the fact that he was hurled across the room just a second ago. His light-hearted laugh is interrupted by the sound of a cocking of a gun. A man in grey has us held at point-blank range, “Hello, Mr Ichinomiya. It’s so nice to finally meet the man who ruined my father’s business and, as a result, destroyed my life. I wanted to return the favour by taking the thing most precious to you as you did, me!”

I stare at the man with a neutral expression. Half not wanting to boost his ego, knowing he held an advantage over us, half in thought. “Ah, you must not recognise me. Apologies on my part, I rudely forgot to introduce myself. Nice to meet you, I’m Keiji Ozaki, son of the the man you wrongfully stole the Burj Khalifa from, here to get my revenge.” He snickers, transitioning to a maniac, hysterical laugh, thinking he’s defeated us. How naive. Unfortunately for him, I always win.

I swiftly shoot his leg and he falls to the ground dramatically. His inexperience in this sort of matter clearly evident from not checking me for weapons.

“What an amateur,” I scoff defiantly, “It’s a shame you were destined for failure, being brought up under the control of your idiot-father. Too bad, I’m not one to pity, especially for those who think they can overthrow me so easily.” With my finger on the trigger and the barrel of my gun to his forehead, I’m prepared to end this once and for al—

!BOOM!

The ground shakes with incredible magnitude and I’m knocked onto the floor by the force. Keiji, expecting the bomb below, quickly dashes towards the bed and grabs a hold of Hana’s unconscious body. “Let go of her!” I yell, as shakily as the crumbling floor below me. Baba makes a half step forward with a gun directed at Ozaki by which he reclaims the distance by taking a half step back, towards the window.

“I’ll let her go, if you let me go,” he bargains as he presses his gun to the temple of her head.

Coward. Using a defenceless girl as a scapegoat, I guess he isn’t brainless after all. Baba and I are left powerless as we eye each other. He takes a chance and abruptly pushes Hana towards us, catching us off guard and making his escape out of the window.

Glass shards scatter in every direction, another bomb explodes and the ground quakes violently. “We have to get out of here!” concerns Baba, “The building is going to collapse. We have no choice but to jump!”

“WHAT?! Are you insane, Baba?”

“Relax Boss, if that clown escaped out that window then I’m sure we can, too!” he chirps, all, too happily.

“Fine, but you’re going first,” I say, “Wait, WH—“ I push him out of the window and he lands on the inflatable crash pad at the foot of the building. Well, I guess it’s our turn. I hold Hana in my arms and take a leap. Mid-air, stray bullets from the feud between the others and the enemy, pierce the crash pad in what feels like slow motion.

Crap! no. No. NO! No matter what, I have to protect her. Shifting our bodies hastily, I circle my arms around her tiny, fragile frame and tuck her head comfortably into my chest, embracing for the colossal impact that await our arrival below.

“BOSS!”

That was all I could hear in the midst of the gunfire and explosion before I felt the crack of my body against the deflating pad and the concrete ground. Ears ringing, sight fading, body breaking, Baba and Ota make their way to my paralysed body. “Take Hana and get back to the car, I’ll meet you there,” I groan with much difficulty. The dark lure of unconsciousness is so enticing but I’m doing everything I can to resist the temptation. “Not a chance! Ota you take Hana and I’ll support boss.”

We struggle on, back to our vehicle with Soryu, Mamoru and the Ice Dragon covering our backs. Heh, and they say they don’t care about each other… Seems like my trust in the bidders was absolute because in the protection of their hands, my body gives in and the darkness of slumber consumes me.

Light leaks into the slit of my eyes and the smell of chemicals stir me from my sleep. I open my heavy eyelids and prop myself up as more of my vision begins to return. “Where am I?” I question, striking pain flowing throughout my whole body. Pathetic. I can barely breathe without feeling like my lungs are about to collapse on themselves.

“You’re in my medical office.” Luke answers, “Hana’s being treated in the hospital. I knew you wouldn’t want to be held there and risk the public, catching wind of the situation, so I took the initiative of tending to you myself, here, in private.”

I’m thankful that Luke understands me so well, even during our boarding school days, he always seemed aloof, but could read everyone like a book.

“You have 3 broken ribs and about 4 fractures. I’m surprised you’re not completely paralysed, let alone able to move as you are.”

“Hmph, as if a few broken bones could stop me,” I banter, not sure if I believe myself.

“Just take it easy. I would advise bedrest for a couple of weeks at minimum, but you have a tendency of not listening, so I’ll leave you with some painkillers instead.”

“Thanks Luke,” I chuckle.

I make my way to the Hana’s hospital room with great effort, no thanks to my injuries, to make sure she is truly okay. The doctors inform me of her condition and the fact that she wasn’t defiled by those vile creatures. Thank God.

She looks beautiful. Despite the cuts and bruises that stain her fair skin, she still exudes an ethereal glow that draws my hand to her cheeks. Stunning. The slight flutter of her lashes that follows my soft caress, brings a smile to my face, one so unlike me, and one that is soon replaced by a frown.

I did this to her. I hurt her. I brought her into this life of suffering. I destroyed her.

I’m disgusted by my hand upon her pure form, “I need to fix this.”

Hana has returned to the penthouse after a long and lonely week. I’ve been tracking down Keiji and his father, who annoyingly escaped from prison, to make sure they can never go after her again. I haven’t had the chance to see her yet, and it pains me to send her to the guest room instead of our shared bedroom, but I couldn’t risk letting her seeing the papers flooding my bed about the very people who put her through hell. The countless weeks of sleepless nights feel extra difficult to conquer without her coffee and presence, but I need to do this to keep her safe. That is my sole motivation.

The next morning seems brighter than usual and my heavily beaten body feels lighter, knowing justice would be served today. I found the two troublemakers and sent Soryu to retrieve them. Selling them at our next auction would surely teach them the consequences of angering me. Feeling fulfilled knowing this whole mess was finally over, was naive of me and couldn’t prepare me for what was coming next.

I prepare to get up to finally see the woman I love, before the door swings open and, there in front of me, appears the said woman. Why? Why does she look so livid?

With tears streaming down her flushed cheeks; soaking into the carpet, eyes once innocent, clear and kind, now filled to the brim with rage, lifelessness and sadness. She spits words of venom at me louder than she has ever sounded. “Go to hell, Eisuke!” was all I could comprehend in her outburst before she leaves like a passing storm. I squeeze my eyes shut in reflection and my heart follows. Squeezing and squeezing, so tight my breathing hitches and I feel suffocated by, what I tell myself is, the pain of my injuries.

An uncharacteristic tear forms and rolls down my face. I was supposed to fix all of this, but again, I couldn’t even be there to comfort her when she needed me most. I’m a rotten bastard. She’s right, I should just go straight to hell, where I belong. But I can’t, “I can’t go to hell,” I whisper with a wry smile and a tear-stained cheek,

“I can’t, because you’re not there…”

“Thats a strange favour for you to ask of me. I guess trying to understand you and your antics was my mistake but—“

“She deserves better than me. I need you to protect her. With you and the Ice Dragons around her, I can rest, assured, nothing like this can ever happen again.”

“You really love her don’t you?”

“More than anything, but I need to preserve the light in her eyes. It dulled a little after what happened, but should it darken anymore… I don’t know if i could live with myself.”

A long silence ensues as Soryu carefully analyses my depressed form, never seeing me so vulnerable in the many years we’ve known each other; as a partner and a friend.

“Fine, I’ll keep her with me but, I’ll kick your ass if you think you can just drown in your sorrows and revel in pain just because she’s not around.”

I throw him a quick, thankful glance, but it’s easier said than done. She was my whole life, and without her, guiding me to the light, I don’t know if I can find my way out of this dark abyss.

You may be done with me, but my heart will always beat here, for you.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

SO BLESSED and thankful to have rp with hobo4lyfe11 , driving our best to complete this story and we look forward to our next fic, hope you’re too!

#eisuke inchinomiya #kbtbb fanfic #kbtbb angst #kbtbb eisuke #eisuke x oc #voltage oc x canon #voltage oc x eisuke #eisuke x hana #Hana Kido #voltage rp #voltage role play #kbtbb rp #kbtbb role play #done with yo

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