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fanfic-scribbles · 4 years

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O Night

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Facing your loved ones when you’re having a hard time can be hard to deal with, even for someone as strong as Sam Wilson. One Christmas Eve, he takes comfort with you while he builds his strength.

Quick facts: Romance – Sam Wilson/Reader –Nondescript Reader

Warnings: Christmas fic, some angst, comfort

Words: 2121

A/N: I got 6k words into a different story and had to scrap it but I still wanted to do something so here we are. Sorry for yet another coffee shop fic but coffee shops are one of my ultimate weaknesses and I miss them. It’s a great setting if you can’t resist the urge to wrap a blanket around your favorite characters. Or at least, give them a warm drink and someone to talk to. This takes place pre-Captain America, some nebulous time after Sam comes home from Afghanistan. I’m fudging a lot of details because uhh…because I can =3 Merry Christmas, you filthy animals <3

It’s a quiet Christmas Eve. It feels too dark for the cusp of twilight, but the rain has been falling steadily all day and the clouds yet linger even though the sun is leaving. You’ve had an extremely small trickle of customers to your little coffee shop, probably thanks to the rain as much as the holiday, but it has been nice and you expected as much; that’s why you made sure you’re the only one scheduled.

Normally you wouldn’t feel so lonely, but you know your favorite regular won’t be in today as he’s visiting New York to be with his family. The thought makes you smile though. Sam Wilson is a good man and he’s been so excited for this trip, talking about it since Thanksgiving with almost everyone he’s ever encountered in your shop. You’re happy for him. Within the last week he’s started looking a little more tired, a little more worn down, and you’re hoping the trip lifts him up so that he’s back to his happy and vibrant self. And if he starts flirting with you again, well…that’s just a nice bonus.

You go through another hour and a half of absolutely no customers before you think you can call it early today. You’re the boss and you only have another hour scheduled, so you start cleaning up what little you have out, and when that’s done, you go to flip the sign and lock up.

To your surprise, that’s when someone appears at the door and tries to pull on it– and to further your surprise, it’s Sam.

You both freeze for a moment, but when he takes a step back you fumble with the lock.

“Sam?” you say as you throw the door open.

“I’m sorry,” he says, taking another step away. “I thought you were–”

You lean out into the cold, biting rain, grab him by the shirt collar, and drag him in. You shake the water off your arm and wonder the appropriateness of your action, as he looks utterly bewildered, but he’s inside where it’s warm and you don’t feel bad about that. Also, he tends to have a sense of humor about these things.

Indeed he blinks a few times and draws his lips out into a smile. But, while nice enough on the surface, it isn’t what you’re used to. His normal smile is a slow natural spread that reminds you of a languid sunrise. This one is more like glass breaking, small and jagged. A fracture on his face.

“I haven’t been handled like that in a while,” he jokes and pulls at his lapel for emphasis.

“I find that hard to believe,” you say and study him. The fragile smile falters for a moment, but then holds steady. “I thought you were going home for Christmas.”

He shrugs one shoulder and looks away, and the plastered smile finally starts to fade. “I thought you were still open.”

You mirror his shrug. “No one was coming in. I thought I’d sneak out early.”

“Oh don’t let me–”

“Sit your ass down Wilson.”

He laughs, but he does go sit his ass down in his regular seat in the back corner. You unwrap the leftover cake slices you were going to take home and start the little coffeemaker in the back that you use for quick fixes first thing in the morning. You keep stealing looks to make sure Sam is still there. He’s not talking, which isn’t normally a cause for concern– sometimes the two of you just sit together and enjoy each others’ company– but tonight it feels…wrong. His head is facing away and so he doesn’t seem to notice that you keep poking your head out to look at him. He fidgets, looks at the door every now and then, and just seems generally lost.

You walk out carefully, holding the handles of two steaming hot mugs in one hand and precariously balancing two cake-filled plates in the other. You make it to the table, and Sam is so preoccupied with his thoughts that he doesn’t start to help you until the plates touch the wood surface.

“Shit– sorry,” he says and reaches to help.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say and place a mug in front of him before taking the seat across. Sam breathes in the steam and takes a sip, and you sit quietly with your own cup, allowing him to fortify himself.

It takes a few minutes, but he solidifies into something a little less ragged and his smile, when he can manage one, is small and sad and true. “I’m sorry I kept you open,” he says and looks down at his cup.

“I was expecting to be open for another hour anyways. I’m just five years old at heart and got bored,” you say and get a slight twitch up of his lips before they fall back into place. He still isn’t looking at you and you try to be gentle when you say, “It’s Christmas Eve.”

“So it is.”

“I thought you were going home to Harlem to visit your family,” you say. He’s silent, and your heart breaks a little at what that might mean. “Did something happen?”

“Wha- no, no.” He shakes his head emphatically, looks at you, and then looks away, at the rain hitting the window. It’s too dark to see much, but he remains resolute. Stubborn. “I…told them something came up. That I wasn’t coming.”

Your eyes go wide. Sam is a sharer and you cannot imagine that went over well. “Why?” When he gives a nonchalant little shrug you frown. “Sam.”

“I haven’t been…feeling well,” he says, tripping over ‘feeling’ and finishing quietly. “I think it’s better if I just stay home.”

“You were so looking forward to seeing them though,” you say gently. It’s all he’s been talking about for weeks. Or at least…he was. You assumed it was just typical holiday stress but now you’re thinking it’s something else and you feel guilty for not asking, when he’s always been so sweet to you and your employees. “And it sounds like they love you.”

“I’ll see them again.”

You don’t doubt that, but he’s hunched in on himself and he looks so… “Have you been sleeping at all?”

“Not much,” he admits but he sits up and rolls his shoulders. “It comes and goes.” He smiles at you. “Sorry, I should–”

“Is it that you think you can’t handle them or you think they can’t handle you?”

You hadn’t meant to say that, and the way Sam freezes tells you very clearly how much he didn’t expect to hear it, but letting him go like this just isn’t right. You see his hand on the table and creep yours a little closer– not touching, just to be nearby. So he doesn’t feel so alone. “I didn’t mean to be pushy,” you say. “But I’m worried about you.”

He exhales like he’s trying to expel all his air in one burst and shakes his head. “I’m not okay,” he says softly. “And I don’t want them to see me like this.”

“Is hiding going to make it any better?” you ask, still trying to be gentle. “It’s a bad time of year to be alone, and they’re probably just as desperate to see you as you are to see them. Or…were.”

“Am,” he corrects, still looking at the table. His hand becomes a fist and he takes a deep breath. “I want to see them, but it doesn’t feel right to make them go through this too, you know?”

“Like you’re inflicting yourself on them,” you say and he nods. You sigh. “Aren't they already going to be worried? That you’re skipping out on them? At Christmas?”

He opens his hands. “I can fake it better on the phone.”

“Samuel…Wilson.”

He gives you a brief grin. “Hard to scold someone when you don’t know their middle name, isn’t it?”

“Samuel Whatever Wilson.”

That gets a brief laugh out of him, which ends abruptly when his phone, resting by his elbow, plays a song. You peek and feel a flutter at the caller ID– but he just stares at it. You’ve never seen a man look so weary and wary at the same time.

“That seems important,” you say.

The look he gives you is unimpressed, but he slides his hand over, waits one more ring, then snaps it up with a cheerful, “Hey Mama!” A second passes and after a brief moment of surprise his expression twists down. “Hey…I’m okay, everything is– …oh…okay?”

You reach out to give his hand a brief squeeze and then stand to give him some privacy. His cup is empty but the plate still has some food on it so you take the empty mugs, your plate, and make yourself scarce for a little bit. You hang out in the back room and try not to eavesdrop, but you don’t want him to skip out and be miserable on his own, so you try to just listen for the end of the call.

Fifteen minutes pass and you’re about to exit the back with a full cup of hot coffee to fortify him when you hear, “All right Mama…I’ll be there in the morning.”

He keeps talking but you’re suddenly occupied with trying not to splash hot coffee all over yourself in your excitement. You turn back around and quickly pour the coffee in a travel mug, and box up the last piece of cake. You come out with both in time to see Sam rubbing his ear.

“She must have given you a talking to,” you say. He jolts, like he had forgotten you were there, and his smile comes easier. It’s not one of his bright ones– there’s still a tinge of sadness– but the sight of it fills you with relief. Resignation doesn’t normally look so good, but in this case it’s the best thing you’ve yet seen.

“Nobody can do it better than my mama,” he says fondly and looks at the cup and food.

“I tried not to hear anything,” you say apologetically. “But given I doubt you can get a flight now, it sounds like you’ve got a long night of driving ahead of you.”

He stands. “Yeah,” he says, right in front of you, just inches away. “I guess I do. How much I owe you?”

You shake your head. He’s very close and it is very distracting. “Merry Christmas Sam,” you say and smile at him. “Go be with people that love you.”

His smile softens. “I will,” he says like it’s a promise. And then he…dips in, and kisses you. It’s light and chaste and your skin still feels the ghostly pressure of his lips on yours even when he pulls back. He studies you and you make your smile a little bigger. It isn’t hard.

“Sorry,” he says, still smiling. “Sometimes I think I don’t want to ‘inflict’ myself on anybody, and then sometimes I forget.”

“I don’t think I’d mind being inflicted with you.” You scrunch your face. “Sorry, that didn’t sound so dirty in my head.”

He laughs and you playfully push his shoulder as you step back. “Better get packing before your mama comes to collect you herself.”

He does shudder at that and he grabs his cup…but he stops and writes a number on a napkin, which he presents to you. “For some distance inflicting.”

“You make it sound so romantic.” But you take it, smiling. “Have a safe trip.”

“Guaranteed now.” He holds up the drink that’ll maybe get him through the next hour, but at least it’s something. He wishes you a merry Christmas and you swallow at hearing your name in the softest tone imaginable. And yet he still sounds unsure when he adds, “I’ll see you when I get back?”

“You better,” you say. You both stare at each other for a little while longer, until you finally shoo him out the door so that he can get on the road and you can get home yourself.

Sitting at home with an excellent meal, the rain pattering against your window, and a fire warming your small cozy apartment, you don’t envy Sam having to race to New York in the rain on Christmas Eve, but you smile at the thought of the stories he’s going to come back with and settle in to rest so that you’re ready for his return. This next year is going to be interesting– and pleasant, if that kiss is any indication.

Your lips feel heavy at the memory and they make a smile all their own. Merry Christmas indeed.

#sam wilson x reader #mcu reader insert #mcu captain america fanfic #mcu avengers fanfic #christmas fic

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rpbetter · 3 years

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Raven used to be my friend but I had to cut ties recently due to feeling like walking on eggshells everytime we spoke and they never apologized to me for when I brought up something that they did upset me. I really miss them but I don't want to deal with the if it's not about me I don't care attitude.

Pt 2 of Ravens old friend. They reblogged anti fandom posts on their resource blog and I happened to be in that fandom and it hurt. A resource blog shouldn't be doing that.

Hey, Anon! I wanted to post this before I released one of my drafts, as that draft happens to be something I do not want you to misconstrue being about you. Thought about it after the fact and honestly, felt a bit ill over potentially making you think any such thing! The post is about how pushy people can be about what they like (usually as regards fandom) that you don't, and how that can be a contributing factor toward people saying hateful things about fandom topics. It was the quickest of the finished drafts sitting around to edit, so it was being queued, that's all! I do not think you were being pushy about your likes to "deserve" this, and frankly, even if you had? One's meme/resource/help blog is not the venue for shitting on your friends.

Okay, just wanted to clarify, everyone is stressed and feeling judged enough, I don't want to inadvertently contribute to that with any drafted posts!

I'm really sorry this happened, Anon. I don't mean that in a passing, flippant way that looks good on my blog. Not that I mean anything that way lol but I frequently have had "friends" in the past who felt like it was totally fine to reblog, even make original posts, like what you're talking about. Anti-fandom, anti my part of the fandom, my muses, my takes, and so on. Really hurtful things when we'd spoken in DMs about how upsetting it was, then they go and throw full support behind it in front of me.

It would be irritating with a grain of betrayal if it was a friend of a shorter time, or a mutual one doesn't really interact with OOC, but with a closer or longtime friend, it's actively hurtful. It feels like they looked you right in the face, said they do not give a single shit about either what is important to you or sparing your feelings, and went on. Yeah, it's just fiction, but the way we treat each other over fiction is real.

Given the behaviors displayed openly, it's not a shock you received no apology. Whether you got an apology or not, though, good on you for trying to bring it up to them! It's hard to do that with friends, even ones you're more certain won't blow up at you for it. I think if we could all be a little more (calmly, nicely, reasonably) open with each other like this, we could avoid problems that result from things festering and piling up, but it's hard to take that step...and I'm sorry this was your reward for it.

Just as blogs that are not one's RP or personal blogs shouldn't be openly judging and hating fandoms like that, friends shouldn't leave you feeling like you're walking on eggshells.

And, I'm going to say something unpopular here - sometimes, we all are capable of doing that to people we care about. Bad moments in lives combine, there are misunderstandings, sensitive topics, and things we can't entirely control otherwise. I don't like this idea tumblr has that anything other than a perfect, sweet, forever-cheery relationship is the actual height of abuse, so I want to be clear on that because it's just trivializing and blinding people to the possibility of toxic and abusive interactions. When you think "toxic" means "they don't like x, I love x, we don't talk about it," you're not aware of legitimate signs like being too worried to be yourself around them.

It's when this is the typical, established behavior that it's a problem. It's when there's never any meaningful acknowledgment, apology, or attempt at changing that it's a problem. If you constantly feel like you have to be worried about what a friend is going to say or do, it's not a friendship you need to be in, and I'm glad you recognized that and got out of it!

But there's also the idea that this is easy because it's the right and logical choice. It is not, and it's often made even harder because admitting to other friends that you miss the good times with the former one is all but impossible. They're often only reacting out of concern for you, the fear that if you miss this person they watched hurt you, you'll go back to that friendship, but it effectively shuts down a more healthy way of dealing with your feelings by sharing them with better friends who could support you.

So, Anon, it's also fully alright and normal to miss Raven! They were a longtime friend, and the thing about these kinds of friendships, these kinds of relationships in general, is that we seem to fail to realize that if things were straight awful from day one, we'd not have been friends. Of course, there are memories! Of course, you have the impulse to send them a link or that meme you know is their humor! It doesn't stop for a long time, either. That doesn't mean you're fucked up for it, it's something to be ashamed of, or that you're going to drop your better judgment and go send Raven a message immediately and rekindle that friendship. It's okay!

This right here: "I don't want to deal with the if it's not about me I don't care attitude." This is the place you should be in, and I congratulate you on being there because it takes a lot of shit heaped on someone by a friend to get there. Just keep remembering the good things you experienced with them, but always with this in mind, that their end of the friendship appears to have been predicated upon what they were getting out of it only.

Case in point, like everything they displayed to the whole damn RPC that encountered them these last few months, their personal interest and viewpoint was of greater importance to them with that anti-fandom post than a friend was.

I will say, it can be a delicate thing having this blog. I have opinions and takes that most of my friends share, what's important to me tends to run in the same lines as what is important to them, that's the basis of a lot of our friendship. We still disagree! We still have different interests, fandoms, favorite characters, songs, and experiences. Sometimes, I have to address a problem that they could misconstrue, in a totally normal and reasonable way, because while they're not doing whatever in a bad way, others are. I've made a point, more than once, to contact them and talk about it a little preemptively, and that's not just to keep up friendships, it also allows for extra insight from them and better phrasing from me so that other people I don't know won't take it the wrong way either.

Yes, I have some immutable, incredibly hard lines lol I think we all know what most of them are now, but expressing my purely personal opinion on something like fandom is not more important on this blog than anything else. I may genuinely feel like there is diseased connective tissue of disappointing behavior stemming from an origin point in a popular fandom, I'm not going to go off about it on this blog. It's inappropriate as hell, going to make people feel isolated and targeted whether they're my friends or not. Being passionately displeased about that does not have place here, and that's the kind of thing you have to consider, reconsider, force yourself to shut up about when you've got a blog that isn't for RP or a personal, you know?

I don't think everyone is cut out for doing that, and no one is cut out for doing it without ever making a mistake in judgment. Some people really should simply realize that there is nothing wrong with not being in the place in their lives or mental health to put that much effort into being fair or being quiet and concentrating only on memes. If you're one of those people, random reader? I'm serious, it's okay if you can't do it! It's not shameful, I'm also a deeply flawed human being, the quietest, politest, helpful meme blog out there is also run by a flawed human, they're just at a different place with themselves than you are. And. That's. Okay. Just don't hurt other people (and yourself, ultimately) by forcing it, please.

I suppose, knowing that it wasn't important enough to chill and reevaluate for the sake of a friend is some consolation lol what one won't do for friends definitely won't be done for random muns deemed problematic. So, maybe that'll make some other people out there feel a little better, and I thank you for sharing...as much as I wish you had nothing of this experience to share. I know it's an unpleasant one to have had, and I hope you have much better friends!

I promise you that I'll never post anything here that is viciously against any particular fandom or any such thing, and that if you feel like I've been unfair about anything at all, I welcome polite messages as a way of discussing it so we can all be clear and/or learn from each other. I know, I openly admit, it's kind of a draw of the blog, that I have a...um, tone of salt about things lol and sometimes, I don't phrase things the way they deserved. So, it's always okay to drop in for clarification or counterpoint, so long as it isn't being done with a shitty attitude that incites hostilities. Let's do have a legitimate conversation about it instead of hurt feelings!

Thanks again, Anon!

#vespertine #answered #anonymous #fandom #toxic friendships #drama cw

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scrapyardboyfriends · 5 years

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Jenny’s Belated Live Blogging - 11th April 2019

- I love Maxine episodes so much. No one is surprised by that at this point but they always work so well and have such nice flow and fit in a lot of the things that I like. When does she get to write every episode?!

- even from the start just getting Eric and David standing outside the B&B while all the ornathologists were running around. That was fun and felt like the old days with random ridiculous things going on in the village. And I loved Bob and Dan running around in their camo trying to take a picture of the bird and getting the wrong one and all the other villagers just being amused. That’s a plot that we would not have gotten this time last year and I’m really happy that kind of stuff is making a comeback because it’s just good lighthearted fun and it’s something that works great with those characters too.

- the Kim/vets stuff was great too. I am so thrilled to see a return to the work related stories. I feel like part of the reason there were so many dumb cheating plots and so many heavy stories in the past couple years, is because a lot of the work drama just got cut out and they had to fill time in other ways. But aside from just the general, I just really like this vets story now that Kim is involved and that’s not something I thought would happen. But her and Rhona together is so good. It brings her down to earth even if she is still scheming. And there’s minimal Graham, which is excellent. I also love that they’re going to continue to build on this relationship by having her get Rhona to help with Jamie, which is a great idea. I’m so happy they’ve managed to turn Kim around now that the Joe Plot is...over?!?

- And Paddy and Vanessa who we can sometimes get annoyed with when they’re in their respective relationships, work so well together in this type of story. I’m so happy Vanessa was finally allowed to go back to work so we could have this content again. That suspension was the worst decision ever. I even loved them both not wanting to tell Chas and Charity about the deal. This kind of content is what will make those relationships work better too because they have each other to bounce this kind of stuff off of. A couple months ago, Paddy and Vanessa sharing a scene was so weird because it had been so long and now it finally feels like it’s supposed to and I’m so glad.

- the Vic/Ellis, Tracy/Billy stuff was also a lot of fun today. I love that Tracy and Billy figured out what Vic was up to straight away and then locked them in but also spent the whole day together anyway so maybe they’ll work on things between them too. Things were thawing anyway. She got a drink with him. And Vic and Ellis singing Cher and drinking champagne together was perfect. They got together so weirdly and we didn’t even realize they’d become anything more so I’m sort of glad they broke up and now we get to see a little of them getting back on the same page. Those early stages are really important for me to enjoy a couple so I’m glad we’re getting that. I just fear for the Big Night Out stuff but for now it’s all lovely and sweet.

- I thought the Liv/Jacob/Maya stuff tonight was great. I’m soooo glad that Jacob said no and broke up with her just so she didn’t have to have sex with him and do something she didn’t want to do even if I was still heartbroken for her.

- I’m so happy Gabby was back with her this week too. I love their friendship and it was so nice seeing her be so supportive with Liv. That hug she gave her was so important too. I adore them when they’re getting along.

- with regards to the ace stuff. I do think it’s kind of time for her to use the word. They really did miss their opportunity when she said she was doing internet research. It’s a bit frustrating because, we all get it and it’s very clear that they did their research because she is saying all the right things. Like the part about ‘sometimes people like me just do it anyway for their partners’ or some variation of that. I just wish they’d stop having her talk around it even if everything she says does ring very true. I still hope she gets to say the word one day.

- that said, my heart broke when she said that she didn’t know how someone was ever going to want someone like her because I feel that so much. And again, I loved that Gabby was there to give her a hug. She needed that and the encouraging words and I’m glad she got them.

- I was also very happy to get to see both Robert and Aaron be there for her tonight. Thank you Maxine. I liked that, you know, we got typical Aaron wanting to kill Jacob and Liv having to talk him down. I loved Robert putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him in his chair. I of course adored the entire conversation with Robert on the bench. Definitely long overdue. I also can imagine them finding the condoms and deciding Robert may be the best one to go have that chat just because Aaron a) doesn’t always do well with that and b) he might get too worked up. In any case, I love Robert and Liv’s relationship and I’m so glad that Maxine loves it too so we get this kind of content. He was so sweet with her and understanding and calm but also so encouraging, telling her she’s brilliant as she is. Plus, I love the added bits of humor in there with the ‘boys are rubbish’ line and the ‘you’re telling me not to get revenge?’ line. Perfection.

- and I liked that that wasn’t it either. I loved that we got Aaron checking in with Robert after the chat and Robert telling him not to worry. I loved that Liv came downstairs and reiterated that nothing happened and that she was okay. They were such good family scenes, the kind we rarely get and the three of them do work well together when given the chance.

- and of course, the surrogacy stuff. There were definitely a few things that could have used more on screen discussion but I was relatively satisfied by what Maxine did manage to get in there within allotted screen time.

- I was happy Aaron questioned Robert’s sudden decision to give him a chance to explain. They were always going to have to do it in the UK for logistics purposes anyway, so I don’t mind his change of heart. I also liked that when he said he didn’t want to make Aaron wait, that Aaron challenged him on that too so he could explain. I don’t know that every writer would do that. I mean, I still wish they would address Aaron’s Seb related issues/motivation. It will forever drive me crazy if they never go back to it and I don’t think they will now but I guess I’ll have to get over it. I at least like that they addressed some of the Robert concerns.

- I also just liked seeing them so excited to be on the same page again and to feel positive after the meeting. Plus, Aaron’s cute little clothing crisis before hand was amazing and I loved Robert telling him he looked great. Also I liked that they managed to get both of their color codes in today. Red and blue earlier and then they changed into their blue and black. Well done.

- even though they’re talking about money still, I like that they’ve moved forward a bit in the process now. We’re no longer stuck completely at square one and that is very needed. Even if this surrogate doesn’t work out, at least they’re at a new stage now.

- I also loved having Liv involved and interested in what was going on and especially that she did it in that sarcastic way. They really felt like a family tonight and it made me very happy.

- with regards to the ‘swimmers’, haha, I do wish they’d had that conversation on screen but I’m glad that they at least said that they’d had a conversation and didn’t just announce that they were going to use Aaron sperm or something. And I know there’s a portion of the fandom that has a massive problem with all of this but like...I don’t think that the characters at least did it in a particularly offensive sort of way. Especially since Maxine consciously had Aaron correct himself and say ‘well it’ll be both of ours obviously’. Plus, I always love Aaron not being able to talk about that sort of thing and his ever popular awkward hand gestures. I love that that’s just his consistent thing. Haha

- and of course the sofa cuddling and giggling at the movie. I’ve waiting ages for them to lay on the sofa like that and I’m so glad it finally happened. Plus the dialogue, talking about their future kid. Again, I loved the family banter with Liv saying Seb was going to be an evil genius and Robert correcting her and saying ‘handsome genius’ was perfect. And of course the comment about Aaron’s eyes. We all use Robert loving Aaron’s eyes so much in fan fic so it was great to get that little moment. And Aaron craning his neck to look up at Robert was lovely. Good content. I am pleased.

- as for the blackmailing. It makes a lot of sense that it was Liv that caught them and that it’s her that’s blackmailing Maya. With anyone else, I feel like it wouldn’t make sense that they would tell but since Liv has been involved this whole time, Maya is able to use that and her alcohol problems to manipulate David to preemptively discredit her and then threaten her with. But I also really liked that Liv brought up Gordon. Yay relevant character history! It’s good that she can take that knowledge and apply it to this situation and see through Maya. But it’s also such a messy situation since Liv was with Jacob and there’s so many hurt feelings on top of everything else. It makes a tough situation even tougher so it all does still feel relatively believable. At least within the context of a soap. And as much as I wouldn’t want robron using pedophile blackmail money to fund their surrogacy, I sort of like that Liv even went there because well...she’s learned from the best living with her brothers. Haha. But yeah...it’s all a mess and I can’t wait for it all to come out so all these kids can start getting help.

- all in all, these were great episodes and again I shall profess my love for Maxine Alderton. She is perfect.

- I hope these thoughts met your expectations @memorieswarm haha

#belated live blogging #emmerdale #robron

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doctortreklock · 5 years

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Drawing with the Dead - September 25, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: "Do you believe in ghosts?" (x)

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Words: 1610

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"Do you believe in ghosts?"

Clint's head jerked up from where he had been bent over his sketchpad. He hastily pulled the headphones off his ears and looked to his left to see a man sitting on the short wall next to him watching him sketch. "Uh, I'm sorry?" he tried.

The man smiled. It was a nice smile, Clint noted absently. "I was asking if you believe in ghosts," he repeated.

"Not so much," Clint told him with a easy grin. "I have a hard enough time believing in what's in front of me sometimes."

The man hummed and looked like he was giving Clint's off-the-cuff answer serious thought.

"What about you?" Clint asked quickly. It didn't seem like the man was going to be leaving soon, and if Clint were being honest, he didn't mind the company. It seemed like this end of campus got pretty dead after nine o'clock and he could use the break from sketching.

"I've found that at a certain point, believing becomes unavoidable," the man told him slowly, as if picking his words carefully.

Clint scoffed playfully and adjusted the shading on his rendition of the abstract sculpture in the middle of the art building's atrium. "Seen a lot of ghosts, then?" he asked, sliding his gaze back over to the man.

He couldn't really help it. The man sitting by him was plain, almost the dictionary definition of "unassuming," but there was something about him that Clint liked. Maybe it was the confident, quiet way he held himself, his kind blue eyes, or the well-fitted - if slightly old-fashioned - suit he was wearing. Or maybe it was just the way his lightly lined face and receding hairline played into Clint's predilection for handsome older men.

The smile that played around the man's lips twisted wryly. "Something like that, yes," he said.

"So," Clint drawled, waggling his eyebrows outrageously. "Come here often?" If he asked as ridiculously as possible, he could brush it off as a joke if need be.

From the smirk that tugged at the corners of the man's mouth, Clint didn't think he'd have to downplay the question. "Would you believe me," he asked, "if I told you I didn't get out much and that this was the only place I'd been in a very long time?"

For a moment, Clint wasn't sure if he was serious or not, but the upturned corner of the man's mouth was enough to convince him that it had just been very, very dry humor.

Clint snorted and the other man seemed pleased that he had recognized it as a joke.

"I'm Clint," Clint said, twisting in his seat so he could offer the man his right hand and a dazzling smile. "Clint Barton. Do you want to get a drink with me?" What the hell, might as well, right?

"Phil Coulson," the man said politely, making no move to take Clint's hand. "And I'm afraid I can't, as much as I would like to. Unfortunately, incorporeality does have its drawbacks." He sounded honest-to-god regretful about it.

Well that had stung a bit more than anticipated. Clint drew back quickly and used his outstretched hand to rub the back of his neck. "Ouch," he half-joked. "That's a new one." He glanced over at the sculpture in the center of the atrium again and tried to focus on the lines he'd been sketching.

"Excuse me?" The man - Phil - sounded baffled, but Clint didn't look over to see if his expression matched his tone.

"It's just that usually when a guy doesn't want to go out with me, he just says no." The curve at the top was actually a little rounder than he'd drawn in his sketchbook, Clint noted absently. "He doesn't pretend he's a ghost."

Phil didn't say anything for a moment, so Clint brought his pencil back up with his left hand to gently correct the shape. He'd barely started, though, when a movement caught the corner of his eye. Phil had leaned in and placed one hand gently on Clint's elbow.

Normally, that wouldn't be cause for alarm. However, normally, Clint would have sensed someone leaning into his personal space. And normally, he'd be able to feel where Phil's hand rested on his arm.

Clint stared at the place where his eyes were telling him Phil Coulson was touching him and his arm was telling him Phil damn well was not. His lifted his right hand hesitantly and placed it over Phil's fingers. If Phil were a tangible, physical person, Clint would be clutching at his hand like an Austen heroine. As it was, his fingers hovered over space his eyes were insisting shouldn't be empty before he laid his fingers flat on his own arm.

Immediately, a cold tingle rushed through his hand, instantly putting it to sleep, pins and needles and all.

Clint swore and pulled his hand back abruptly. Phil flinched away as well. Clint shook his hand a few times and swore again as the pins and needles played havoc with his pain perception. "Sorry," he managed, flexing his hand twice to try and dispel the sharp tingling.

"No need to apologize," Phil said. "It's hardly the first time."

He sounded sad. Clint looked over at him to find Phil inspecting his own hand. There was a slump to his shoulders that he could have sworn hadn't been there a few minutes earlier.

"Hey," Clint said softly, his own fading pain forgotten. If Phil had been physical, Clint would have bumped shoulders with him. (Then again, if Phil had been physical, Clint wouldn't have needed to.) "You okay?"

Phil straightened up. "Of course." He straightened his cuffs, carefully not looking in Clint's direction.

Clint had just opened his mouth to say something reassuring (what, he had no idea), when his phone buzzed. Since there were only a few people who might have been texting him this late at night, he pulled his phone out and glanced at it. It was an SOS from Nat.

Before he could have a heart attack (and, boy, wasn't that joke less funny with apparently an honest-to-god ghost sitting right next to him), a second text came through. Apparently she and Bucky had just entered one of the "off" phases of their on-and-off relationship and his presence was required.

Clint sighed and muttered, "Great timing there, Nat." He shot her a quick acknowledgement and looked back over at Phil, who seemed to be attempting to memorize the abstract sculpture if the intensity of his gaze was any indication. His shoulders were stiff.

"Sorry," Clint apologized, closing his notebook and starting to put his drawing supplies back in his backpack. "My best friend just broke up with her boyfriend again and could use some help practicing her knife throwing."

Now Phil just looked concerned. "Are you sure that's the safest..." He trailed off.

Clint didn't notice; he was half-bent-over, trying to squeeze the sketchpad into his backpack. "Nah, it's fine. I was in the circus and I think she was a Russian assassin in a previous life, so we've got it covered." He straightened up and stood, swinging his bag onto his shoulder. "Anyway, I should really be heading out." He hesitated. "Will I see you again?"

Phil was staring at the backpack slug over one shoulder. "You're a student?" he asked faintly.

"Uh, yeah," Clint frowned. "Just started a couple weeks ago." Phil's expression was becoming increasingly dismayed. Clint hitched his bag higher and tried not to let it get to him.

"I usually only talk to the professors," Phil explained. "I thought you were older. An artist-in-residence at the very least." He looked distressed.

Clint had the sinking feeling that now Phil wouldn't want to get a drink with him even if he were physically capable of it. "It's cool," he lied. "I know I'm a bit older than the typical freshman. It was the circus," he added, desperate to explain. "They weren't big on traditional schooling and I had to take some extra time to get caught up." Clint focused on the floor of the atrium and hoped his face wasn't as warm as it felt. Did he really try to reassure the handsome ghost haunting the art building that he wasn't too young to hang out with because he'd been too stupid to get into college at 18?

"Clint."

Clint glanced up again and Phil looked uncomfortable. Before he could say anything, the phone in his hand buzzed again.

"I've got to go," Clint said. "Apparently Nat needs Rocky Road to go with her target practice." He tried to give Phil a smile, but he was pretty sure it came out sad and wonky. "Anyway," he added unnecessarily.

Phil didn't say anything, so Clint took that as his cue to go.

"Clint," Phil said again.

Clint turned back to see him standing next to the low wall where the pair had been sitting. He looked decisive. "Yeah?"

"I can't get a drink with you," the ghost of Phil Coulson told him. "But I would enjoy talking to you again, if that's something you would like." He held Clint's gaze steadily, but Clint could have sworn he saw a hint of a blush on the top of his cheeks.

Clint gave Phil another smile, this one wider and more sincere. "I'd like that."

They looked at each other across the atrium for a moment before Clint threw a hand in the air in a jaunty wave and turned to go. "See you around, Phil," he called.

He didn't look back, but Clint could have sworn he heard an affectionate sigh behind him.

#Resolution19 #Marvel #MCU #C/C #Phlint #College AU #Ghost!Coulson #Ghost!Phil #man I thought verb phrases as a title style would have been more fun #but next month!!!#excited for next month's titles!!!#I'm bringing back a previous style XD #not sure why I worry about length though #this was 330 words #and i was trying and trying to get to 400 #and then this happend #and it's over 1600 #*sigh*

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galadrieljones · 6 years

Text

A Funeral: Chapter 3

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2 | Pairing: Arthur x Mary Beth | Rating: Mature

Content: Existential Angst, Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nature, Touch-Starved, Humor, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Angst, Violence

Summary: To help her process Sean’s death, Mary Beth asks Arthur to take her on a hunting trip, somewhere far away. He agrees, and on their little journey together, they find quietude and take comfort in their easy bond. In their desperate search for meaning, they endure a number of small trials, which bring them closer to one another as well as to the unchecked plights of the natural world.

Masterpost | AO3

Thanks @bearlytolerablethethird for the banner!! ^_^

Chapter 3: Poor, Unfortunate Souls

They rode off the next day about seven in the a-m. Mary Beth’s filly Apaloosa was a good size, and her name was Winston. Mary Beth herself was a good rider, a fact of which Arthur was aware, but what he did not know what that she tended to get distracted quite easily. Arthur himself liked to stop and take in sights for sketching, but with Mary Beth, he noticed that she did not really desire to all out stop, she just liked to slow a lot, trotting along to survey the terrain, or to squint at something in the distance that he most certainly could not see. She rarely spoke out loud about it. This was a nice thing about Mary Beth—she did not have to say everything that was on her mind. It was somewhat of a relief. She did like to talk, but when she did, it always felt like there was a purpose to it. Even if that purpose was simple. She didn’t make much for idle chit chat, but he did sometimes, and so he could speak a little bit, and then she was always glad to respond and she could go and go and go if they got on a topic they both liked and understood. She was also very interested in Arthur himself. She liked to know all about him, all about his feelings and his past. He didn’t have many people for this—interested in what it was that went on inside his head. They only needed him for what he could do.

As they got on, late into the morning, he rode a little bit ahead, but he tried not to get too far. He was determined not to be in a hurry but this first day was making him realize that his typical way of doing things was perhaps a little fast. He was not used to company in the wild and so he tried to slow down because that wasn’t the point. In fact, he was not yet sure what the point was, whether it was more to hunt a moose, get free, or just to be with Mary Beth. Sometimes he felt more complicated than he thought he deserved to be. Like that a man who has killed as many other men as he—he was not entitled to his depths. He thought most of the time he ought to just shut the fuck up and get on dealing with this unclear life, but then he would come upon somebody he actually enjoyed being with, and that changed things. He thought sometimes he still hung onto Mary because she had made him feel that way, too. But that was all in the past as she was back on a train somewhere, god only knows. And so he flung all thought of her away, off a cliff, and tried to face forward for a while.

For further supplies and ammunition, they made a stop in St. Denis. The streets were crowded that morning, and the sky was filled with its requisite pollution clouds. Mary Beth was a little thrilled to be in the city, but she also drew a little unsure of herself once they hitched their horses and went over to the gun store. She walked with her head down a little, and she would look around suspiciously from time to time.

When Arthur asked her what was wrong, she said every time she came to St. Denis she felt enchanted by the lights and cobblestone streets but she also felt she did not fit in.

“I ain’t like these people, Arthur,” she said. “You ain’t either. Don’t you feel it? Or, maybe you don't?”

Arthur thought on this.

“I do,” he said, nodding. He felt bigger than everyone in St. Denis. He felt wider. He felt sometimes like he couldn’t fit through their delicate doorways, designed for frenchmen in fancy suits. “But it’s all just a bunch of feathers, Mary Beth," he went on. "There are good people, and there are bad people, just like in our world. It’s just that here, they smell nicer, so it ain't always easy to tell.”

This made Mary Beth laugh. He adjusted his hat and held the door for her to the gun shop. A little bell rang over head. They went inside and were greeted by the shopkeeper. “You smell fine, Arthur Morgan,” she said. "You smell like mint, and tobacco. Like man, of course, but that is to be expected."

Arthur blushed. It was an uncommon thing to hear. “I suppose I’ll take that as compliment,” he said, though he did double check once she was past, just to make sure she wasn’t only being nice. He’d had a bath two days before in the saloon hotel so actually, for once, it truly wasn’t that bad.

While in the gun shop, Arthur purchased many rounds of ammunition for many different kinds of guns. Mary Beth purchased a shotgun with sturdy handling and a bag full of slugs. When they road out the city, Arthur stopped them at a marshy tributary of the Kamassa River, and he was keen to give her a little bit of a lesson on that gun.

“I can use a shotgun, Arthur,” said Mary Beth. There were bugs buzzing in their ears. "I ain't a invalid."

“I know,” he said, swatting. “This one’s heavy though, Mary Beth. It ain’t a sawed-off. It'll handle different, I promise.”

“I suppose you're right,” she said.

They tied up their horses. They went through some simple things. Mary Beth shot a turtle and then felt badly about it.

“You didn’t kill it,” said Arthur, squinting as they watched it hobbling away into the marsh. “You just…dented it a little.”

“I don’t like shooting animals,” she said. “Unless I’m eating.”

“We can eat a turtle,” he said. “In fact, I know a decent recipe for the soup. But like I said, it’s getting away. There it goes. It's gone now." He waved. "Bye, Mr. Turtle.”

She shoved him in the shoulder. It gave them both a laugh.

After they finished, they each had a can of beans and shared a fresh peach for lunch. They fed their horses. They sat on a blanket by the water. The weather was warm. Arthur loosened his collar and rolled up his sleeves. “Mary Beth,” he said at some point where they sat, with their legs out, looking at the water.

"Yes, Arthur."

“That gun," he said, "for you—don’t you go shooting unless you absolutely must. And I mean absolutely. You understand?”

“I know, Arthur.”

“Yeah, I know you know," he said, smoking a cigarette. "I just—I don’t mean to be patronizing. I just needed to reiterate. For my own reassurance.”

She blushed a little and ate a piece of the peach. “Reiteration achieved,” she said. And she saluted him.

They rode again, and this time, into the early evening. There were few horses out that day but plenty of wagons heading down south to St. Denis. This was kind of a strange place, where they were. Arthur didn’t altogether like or trust it, so he took them out west a bit, en route toward Emerald Station—a longer way, but with the sun on its way out, he wasn’t interested in escorting Mary Beth through the unmitigated horrors of the Bayou and the Blue Water Marsh. It’s not like she was dainty, but as he was no man of the southern tradition, and there was little he could do to predict the codeless tactics of cannibals and raping racists. He did not even know how well he could protect himself, let alone himself plus a pretty girl. He almost always avoided the marshes at night.

They rode about till dusk, making it all the way up to south of the stables near Dewberry Creek. Arthur had wanted to make it to Emerald Station by nightfall, but with two of them, and their extended lunch in the marshes, the day had gone slower than he anticipated. So he decided that, rather than try and ride into nightfall, when the old creatures and the monsters and the weirdos come out, they’d head off the road and make camp early, when they could still catch view of the horizon.

They came upon a covered bridge. With the dusk was coming fog. Arthur felt a chill, like maybe something wasn’t right. They idled at the bridge.

“I was thinking,” he said to Mary Beth, leaning and petting Sarah’s mane with his hand, “we could find a good spot up yonder. Rather than pushing through into the night. What do you think?”

Mary Beth was glancing around. She finished off an apple then tossed the core to the earth. “I think that’s wise,” she said. “Plus I’m getting hungry. I mean, for more than just fruit.”

“Me, too,” said Arthur. He resituated his coat and his hat and lit a smoke. They trotted the length of the bridge side by side. Mary Beth made a joke about rivers that Arthur laughed at but would soon forget. At the end of the bridge, Arthur’s horse shuffled around like she was disturbed. She was a fast trotter, but a skittish animal

“Whoa, girl,” he said, reining her gently. "Whoa. Whoa."

“Arthur,” said Mary Beth. "Arthur."

“What is it?”

That is when he looked up, and that is when they were approached. Three men on foot, one with his shotgun brandished at his hip, another holding a torch, standing at the end of the bridge. They were nasty characters, wearing plain clothes and with teeth missing. Arthur knew right off what was going on and signaled for Mary Beth to make a full stop. "Hold up," he said, real low.

The men stood in a row. The first one was chewing something. He spat right onto the surface wood of the bridge, a big nasty mouthful of brown juice. “Howdy,” he said. He wore a porkpie hat. “Fine evening.”

“Indeed,” said Arthur, still with the cigarette hanging out his mouth. “How can we help you boys?”

“We’ll be taking your horse,” said the man, raising his shotgun a little. He surveyed the scene, the situation, raised it higher. “And all your money, of course." He seemed to think on it then, rearrange his plans. "And the girl.”

Mary Beth seemed to take offense. "Fat chance," she said.

Arthur shushed her, made kind of a low chuckle. “That is amusing, good sir," he said. "But I am afraid we'll have to decline."

"Excuse me kindly."

"Why don’t you just move aside?” said Arthur, very serious then, laying his hand on the grip of his pistol.

The man in the hat became angered maybe then. Emboldened by Arthur's aloofness. He picked his gun up a little higher in response. His voice got louder. "Dismount your horse," he said.

Arthur raised his eyebrows, plucked the cigarette from his mouth, and surveyed its burning ending. Then he flicked it the earth and gave all three of the men a long, lazy look in the twilight. At first, he did not speak.

“Did you hear me, boy?”

“Arthur?” said Mary Beth, in a high whisper. She did not sound scared, merely ready. “What do I do.”

Arthur's voice was low, barely more than gravel. "Don't touch that gun, Mary Beth."

She nodded, waited.

“You got till the count of five,” said the man in the hat now. He was a brave soul.

“Oh yeah?" said Arthur. "Five? And then what?”

“And then I shoot,” said the man. He set his sights on Arthur. "You, then the girl." Nobody moved. “One…two…”

Arthur rolled his eyes then. It was almost in slow motion. But he drew his pistol at a whip speed, and inside of three seconds, shot two of the men dead. The third got spooked, dropped his torch, and ran off. It was over, just like that.

“Shit,” said Arthur, watching the third man go, squinting into the advancing night. A bunch of birds had taken off at the ringing of his pistol. It was still smoking. He settled Sarah a little without even paying her a glance. He was trying to decide whether to take off after the man on horseback, or to concede. “Where’d he go?” He chose to concede. But then.

“Sweet fucking Christmas, Arthur Morgan.”

Mary Beth’s voice was high and exasperated. It was such an unusual sound—he did not usually hear women’s voices in moments like these. It yanked him out of his trance. “Excuse me?”

“You blew their heads clean off!”

He just stared at her. She was giving him a kind of scolding look as he came back into their reality. “Yeah, I know,” he said, scratching behind his ear. He holstered his pistol. “I didn’t want that, but what would you have had me do instead? Let them take you?”

She trotted her horse up to the mess. Brains and blood all over the bridge. “Geesh.”

“It was them or us, Mary Beth.”

She sighed again. “Oh, Arthur.”

He did not know what to say.

Suddenly then, she was off her horse. And then she was on her knees beside one of the dead men. She was rifling through their pockets. Arthur came to again and looked around in sudden clarity. Whoever that man was who got away, he might be coming back with law, and that was not good. “Mary Beth,” he said, hurried. “What on god’s earth are you doing?”

“You shot the fellers. Least we can do is rob them.”

Arthur shook out his head. His horse was shifting. “I have committed murder in semi-daylight,” he said. “One of them got away. We need to leave. I don’t need no more bounties in New Hannover territory, Miss Mary Beth.”

“I know, I know,” she said. “But at least this way their deaths was worth something.”

“Their deaths was worth your life.”

She waved him off, picking through the second dead man’s jacket. “Got a couple wedding bands here,” she said. “Gold. Real nice. Married and dumb, I see. Fuckin idiots.”

Arthur lit a cigarette, a nervous habit. He was keeping watch. “All right. Grab those and let’s get a move on now. Come on.”

“Got em,” she said. And then she tucked the rings and a couple watches into her dress pocket, plus a handful of change and she mounted her horse. “All’s good, lieutenant. Let’s ride.”

He laughed at this. She was awful funny. He trotted out front. “You are a brave woman,” he said.

“Wasn’t I who done the shooting.”

“Don’t take much guts to shoot two men in the head like that, Mary Beth. Just skill.”

“Yeah well, you call it what you want it. But I know what I know. And I know it was them or us, Arthur. I do. I’m just making it hard for you is all. I am grateful.”

He smoked, smirking in a bashful quiet. This he did not expect. “Okay then," he said. "Don’t mention it. Let's just go."

They picked up and rode like hell past the river. Arthur took them off the trail in a short while, and they built a fire and Mary Beth prepared a little venison for their dinner, with a couple cans of carrots on the side. They made camp, and they had dinner, just as the sun sank out of view, soaking the whole sky with its fiery farewell.

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #mary beth gaskill #red dead redemption #rdr2 #arthur x mary beth

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zaraegis · 7 years

Text

Come At The King|Part 4| T

Fandom: Cuphead

Pairings: Ride or Die QPP Wheezy & Dice

TW: haha, violence, descriptions of injuries, hints of past unhealthy alcoholism,

Notes: BE SAFE WHILE WEARING A BINDER, DON’T BE A DICE.

Prev|Next

/Casino Rounds

The next match had Wheezy standing uneasily next to a lounging Devil. He swore he could hear unearthly chanting at the edge of his hearing every so often, emanating from his left, where the man was sat in a gold and red throne. Creepy.

His attention was caught by a small sound of pain coming from Dice. He was fighting the magician, Hopus Pocus. One of the swirling rabbit skulls had clipped him and exploded. It left an ashy mark on his white suit and despite the trepidation Wheezy felt at a solid hit, he laughed at the outraged look on Dice's face.

His arm was probably smarting right now, but he bet anything it was the marring of his suit that had Dice in a tizzy.

The small Dice looked up annoyed at the suit balloons that threatened to clip him as they fell, and threw a suspiciously glinting card up, popping the one directly above him. He slapped his palms together and a glowing pink die appeared between his fingers. Oh no. Not the smoke bomb.

There was the clinking of a dice spinning and hitting the floor between the two combatants before the arena was plunged into a smoke cloud. Wheezy waved away the smoke from his face, squinting to see two darkened smudges moving in the smoke. There were the sounds of more of those skulls exploding but nothing from Dice, which was typical. Then he saw Dice shoot up, jumping off something, another round of skulls?, to bring him back down precisely where Hopus was.

There was a pang of sympathy for the rabbit. Dice got really mad when his suits were messed with.

The knockout bell rang as soon as Dice started to use Hopus' bow tie as his own garrotte. Wheezy covered his face in second-hand embarrassment. The Devil chuckled next to him.

"Vicious little thing isn't he?"

Wheezy was startled, he'd forgotten the man was there holy shit, but he loyally lied, "Well, not- not when you get to know him!"

The arena was clear of smoke by now so Wheezy could see Dice hopping up and down to get his attention. He obligingly picked him up and let him stand on his palm as he stared down the Devil with something Wheezy could only describe as nonverbal polite demand.

With a snap of his fingers, (claws???), Dice was once again tall. Relatively speaking- Wheezy had him beat by quite a few inches. He was patting at his suit jacket with a frown, Wheezy wiping away the soot ignored on his face.

"It's fine, let's go look at that arm."

"My arm? I don't care, I need to get this to a dry cleaner."

Wheezy looked up at the ceiling, wishing for more patience to deal with this...this blockhead.

Dice twitched and squinted at him. "You just thought the word blockhead didn't you?"

"No." Wheezy lied.

"You have that face- don't lie-" Dice started, but was cut off by the Devil that they'd both ignored. That was probably a terribly survival instinct.

"We got people here for that," his voice was amused even as he continued lounging carelessly. "Someone will get it and return it back to you tomorrow. You'll want to look your best for Phear Lap."

Dice eyed him and slowly stopped patting at his arm. He smoothly tucked that arm into his chest and bowed over it. Singed arm suspiciously still at his side.

"Thank you, sir."

They were waved off shortly afterward and made themselves scarce to patch up Dice for his next match. There was a package of medicinal bath salts waiting for them in the suite when they got back. It was signed, "Pirouetta".

"Bless that woman." Wheezy muttered as Dice struggled out of his clothes with one arm gingerly held stiff. After helping him with that, Wheezy firmly steered Dice towards the steaming hot tub and dumped half the salts in. The water came up to his shoulders and while Dice hissed at the heat reaching the ugly bruise and welting burns on his arm he slowly relaxed back into it and soaked.

When Wheezy checked went back outside, he saw the suit was indeed gone.

"I can breath better now, what is this stuff?" Dice frowned down at the water, curiously poking his own ribs.

"I don't know but it smells like creme de menthe." Wheezy admitted, looking through the first aid kit for burn ointment and bandages. He missed the look Dice shot him, which was for the best.

After drying off and wrapping up the arm, Dice huddled in a soft thick bathrobe at the breakfast bar and watched Wheezy make some kind of seared meat and rice plate. It made the suite smell delicious.

"Are you sure you can't just take the next match on without the binder? Your ribs are just getting worse." Wheezy complained.

Dice frowned, He knew he was straining them, especially since he'd forgotten to take it off the first couple of days here. A dumb move that was hindering him now. How irritating.

"The weight will throw off my balance." He explained. It wasn't much weight but he'd been doing all his exercises and workouts with a binder for so long, he could feel the difference when he removes it.

"Shit." Wheezy mutters. "You can't afford to lag with the stuff these guys throw at you."

Dice's arm still twinged slightly but it wasn't as bad as they originally thought, the burns felt more like a bad sunburn and the bruise was a familiar strain.

"It'll be fine, don't worry." Dice assures him, doing some gentle stretches as Wheezy's plating up some food for them. The unimpressed look the man gives him is totally unfair.

The suit was there, freshly pressed and almost blinding white even amongst the white sofa. Dice hummed, impressed. Wheezy rolled his eyes. Dice and his thing about cleanliness.

After a light breakfast of fruits they made their way down to the next fight. Dice lit up at the sight of a single seat aeroplane.

Slapping his arm lightly in excitement, Dice muttered,"You'll love this. I get to fly a plane!"

"Jesus wept, I'm genuinely scared now." Wheezy muttered back. Dice huffed and took off his jacket.

"Yeah yeah. Here, hold onto this for me will ya?" Wheezy did as he was told, feeling like some valet as everyone watched Dice make his way to the plane. He caught the edges of the cockpit and vaulted himself up in an impressive display of flexibility and abdominal muscles.

It probably seriously stung his hurt arm. His face didn't show it. What a little-

"His arm is better then?" A voice cut through the murmurs around him. It was Pirouetta. Wheezy resisted the urge to check that his face wasn't as scruffy as the first time they met.

"Yes. Thank you, by the way. For the salts." He hoped he wasn't stuttering. This was possibly even more nerve wracking than spending yesterday standing next to the Devil.

She smiles at him, the dry humor in her face never faltering even as the Devil himself stepped between them to reach the throne that had appeared besides Wheezy sometime between Dice leaving and Pirouetta's greeting.

Wheezy can feel his collar heating up out of nerves, now firmly bookended by the Casino owner and manager. Oh boy...

"Ready?" The Devil growled out, over the roar of the crowd. It seems even bigger than the previous ones. Wheezy wonders if there is anyone who won't hear about King after this. There's a voice that booms, "Ready? IT'S ON."

The arena this time is set above a race track. Phear Lap is a spry old timer with a lime green visor and exploding presents that force Dice to do some risky maneuvers to avoid getting hit. There's riders streaming below them both that takes potshots at Dice's plane every so often.

It's getting to about the middle of the match when Dice seems to just lose it and starts fumbling one-handedly at his bow tie. He frees the purple cloth and-

"Is he..." Wheezy squints, incredulous,"Tying the controls together?" He is, isn't he. Oh no.

Pirouetta and the Devil lean forward at this, and raise a synchronized eyebrow when Dice jumps out of the cockpit and balances on the wings of the cruising plane. It seems to give even Phear a pause with the sheer lunacy of the move.

Dice shuffles a suspiciously familiar deck and with a nonchalance that should not be possible that high up and at that cruising speed, springs the deck from one hand to the other.

Everyone can hear the faint, smug, "Pick a card! Any card." That he tells Phear.

Wheezy would put his head in his hands in sheer exasperation if he could take his eyes from the scene happening in the air. Everyone is similarly hushed. Oh good, no one is really used to the ridiculousness that King Dice at full blast tends to bring.

Almost reluctantly, Phear shoot another gift at him, and when it explodes into gold gleaming horseshoes, Dice-

Dice moves.

He's almost blurred with the sheer speed of it. Eight cards are quickly flung with unerring accuracy away from Dice. Wheezy knows if they were actual metal horseshoes, they'd be cut clean through.

Phear Lap jerks awkwardly in the air, to Wheezy's confusion. He's dodging something, but what-

Dice hadn't stopped at eight cards, of course, and was aiming for Phear himself with the lethally sharp deck. He hadn't stopped smiling.

His eyes are glowing a cold mint green, leaving behind a faint color trail as he tilts his plane by shifting his weight. Dice is charging the sharp cards with magic. That's never good.

A royal flush strikes Phear Lap's aircraft head on which knocks it off course. He skids on the ground, leaving a dark grey dust cloud that highlights the stark white of Dice's suited figure. He does an irritating little hop to bring his legs back together and drops into the cockpit to land the plane.

Wheezy kind of wants to throttle him for this harebrained stunt, but he feels like that all the time when Dice does this.

Not that he rides many aeroplanes, thank God, but any chance to show off and flex his skills, he's quick to take. 'I'm getting rusty, Wheeze.' 'I can feel my muscles turning to flab Wheeze.' Bah.

"He's certainly something, your man Dice." The Devil hums. Wheeze laughs weakly. That seemed to sum up King Dice quite well. Pirouetta and her boss exchange a quick glance that sets his teeth on edge. There's something there that he doesn't like.

When Dice makes his way over to them, smiling tightly at the kind but unwanted pats and congratulatory thumps on his shoulders. No wonder though, he hasn't retied his bow tie and the collar of his shirt is windswept and rakish. He looks like a handsome devil-may-care flyboy.

He almost bounces up to Wheezy, and does nothing except beam up at him until the older man puts one hand over that expression and grumbles, "Fine, that was a pretty cool trick, don't look so smug."

There are some muffled titters coming from his hand and he keeps it there to spare the people around them the horror of a maniacally cackling Dice. No one needs to hear that.

Later on, Wheezy lights up and carefully puts his hot hands on Dice's spine to ease the muscle strain the binder leaves. One more opponent left, though, so Wheezy doesn't bother Dice about the idiocy of leaving it on for too long this night.

"Pirouetta and her boss are up to something." He mentions. Sometimes Dice has a sixth sense for these things, but other times the nuances of social mores fly by him. It's hit or miss.

"I know." He sighs, stretching under Wheezy's hands, stopping when his ribs gently protest. He pauses and does it again. "But I think she's fond of me, so hopefully it's not my impending demise."

"Please don't talk about death threats so nonchalantly." Wheezy complains. Dice laughs quietly.

There's comfortable silence as they try to minimize the ache in Dice's ribs.

This time they curl up together, Dice greedily soaking in all the heat Wheezy gives off. They drowse until Wheezy murmurs to him, "Do you know what you're gonna do for Pirouetta?"

"Smoke and mirrors." Dice mumbles back, before dropping off.

#cuphead #king dice #mr wheezy #phear lap #the devil #pirouletta #come at the king!au #i had fun with the fight scenes #and coming up with Dice's fighting moves #Binder safety: Don't leave it on longer than 12 hours at a time!#Please be aware that it does compress your ribs and all the little blood vessels therein!#don't pull a dice #you haven't sold your soul #you have no excuse #i can't believe phear lap is fucking dead 2018 #(just kidding he's fine)#my fanfic tag

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badawanwrites · 4 years

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Breaking the Silence

Title: Breaking the Silence Fandom: Knights of the Old Republic, Knights of the Old Republic 2: the Sith Lords Chapter: 2/? Words: 1715 Status: unfinished - abandoned Relationships: female Revan & female Exile, past female Revan/female Exile Characters: female Exile, female Revan, Carth Onasi, Canderous Ordo, Bastila Shan, Mission Vao, Zalbaar, Jolee Bindo, HK-47 Warnings: alcohol abuse, canon typical violence, PTSD, depression, mental health issues

chapter 1 │ chapter 2 │ chapter 3

The Jedi Exile has spent a long time imagining what she’d say if she ever saw Revan again.

When she gets the chance, it’s not quite what she expected.

The first thing she notices when she boards the Ebon Hawk is a swoop bike. It looks recently polished - red and shiny and cared for - and she wonders if it belongs to this Ceeira person that Revan has become. Rea had liked speeders, but she’d never gotten to race properly - she’d had too much resting on her shoulders to ever indulge herself when it came to hobbies. It had broken Senna’s heart back then, watching Rea ignore her dreams. Sometimes thinking about it still does. She’d talked Senna’s ear off about how much she wanted to several times, though. The idea of her doing so now almost brings a smile to Senna’s face.

(It’s odd, feeling a wave of genuine affection for Revan. Or the woman Revan had been before she fell - full of dreams and idea and good intentions that she never managed to achieve.

She’s not sure that she likes it.)

The second thing that greets her is the twi’lek girl from the other day seemingly very concentrated on a game of Pazaak against a T3 utility droid. Senna watches as she puts down a minus four card, making her total a nineteen, as opposed to the droid’s total of eighteen. She then turns and offers Senna a wide smile.

“Mission, this is General Keyis. She’ll be travelling with us.” Bastila doesn’t offer any other explanation than that, but if Mission minds, she hides it very well.

“Please just call me Senna.” She offers the girl what’s supposed to be a friendly smile, but she doubts that it comes across as such. Still, she makes an attempt, which is more than she’s done for years now. She thinks that has to count for something.

“Awesome! Welcome onboard, General Senna.” Senna almost corrects Mission’s use of her former title, but then she notices the grin on her face and realizes that she’s teasing. “If you ever wanna play a game of Pazaak, come find me! I guess you could play Ceeira too, but she’s terrible.”

The droid lets out a series of offended beeps. “I’m sorry, T3. You can play him too. Ceeira keeps insisting that he cheats, but she’s just mad that she can’t beat him.”

Some things never change, it would seem.

The next person she’s introduced to is the grumpy veteran from the cantina the other day. She learns that his name is Carth, and Carth - well, he doesn’t seem to quite know how to react to her presence.

“I don’t think we’ve met before.” He says as he watches her with what looks like suspicion. “But I’ve certainly heard of you. You fought in the Mandalorian Wars, right? We used to call you Revan’s left hand.”

“Yes.” She confirms. “That’s me. I’m guessing you served too?”

“I did. Under Admiral Karath, before he turned traitor. So if you were one of Revan’s jedi, where’s your lightsaber?” How she hates that question.

“You know, I thought I needed a challenge so I decided to start using blasters instead.” She lifts her chin and looks into his eyes, unblinking, silently challenging him.

“Well, we already have a Mandalorian onboard. I guess one of Revan’s friends was the next logical choice.” He sounds just about as tired as she feels. He sends Bastila a look that she cannot decipher, but she’s fairly sure that she knows what the eye roll Bastila responds with means.

“I’m not one of Revan’s friends, and if this is going to be a problem -”

“It’s not. Welcome to the Ebon Hawk, General Keyis.”

“Please, just - my name is Senna. I’m not a general. Not anymore.

She walks in on a Cathar jedi meditating later that day. Juhani seems a lot more pleased to have her on board than Carth.

The wookie from the cantina joins them on the ship the next day with fresh supplies, and Mission seems overjoyed to have her friend back.

Senna spends most of the time making the cargo bay habitable and doing maintenance on the T3 unit which is long overdue. She’s pretty sure that she spends more time than strictly necessary on it, but she needs to calm her nerves before Revan’s return, and the droid seems almost excited to help her.

When she’s not with T3, she spends time with Juhani. Senna tells her stories about the lesser battles of the Mandalorian Wars. About nights spent at camp drinking and laughing with her troops. About singing and laughing and hoping for a better tomorrow.

(It’s surprisingly nice to talk about. She purposely avoids the subject of Revan, but even so it’s been forever since she’s gotten to think about the Wars without choking on her own guilt.

It’s nice to remember the early days, before everything turned bad.)

Juhani in turn tells her about what Dantooine is like these days. She tells her about the council, and about her brief fall to the dark side, and about Ceeira’s sudden arrival.

It’s odd, thinking about Revan saving someone from the darkness that she had so readily embraced years ago.

She doesn’t sleep much, though she hasn’t in ages. The ship is full of noises that are foreign to her. The snoring of a wookie. The sound of military boots pacing. The light whirring of the engines.

She doesn’t even pretend that they don’t startle her.

She doesn’t know the others well enough to go talk to them at night, so instead she sits in her makeshift bunk, hugging her knees and trying to steady her breathing.

At least she can’t have nightmares if she doesn’t sleep.

Her relative peace of mind is over the moment Revan returns to the ship with a loud, unashamed laugh.

“I’m telling you, Candy, the only reason I survived is because of my winning smile and infamous charm. I could have been dead right now.” She wraps an arm around a muscular, scarred man’s shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep calling me that and I’ll send you back to the Selkath.” He grins back at Revan which only makes her laugh more.

“Query: Who is the new meatbag?” a droid – Senna would have assumed protocol, had it not just referred to her as a meat bag. She really should not be surprised to find Revan in such company. She always did have an odd sense of humor.

“What do you – Oh. Hi.” Revan’s arm leaves the man’s shoulder instantly. “Bastila didn’t mention that you would um… Join us.”

“It’s a recent development.” She replies neutrally. “She thought I could help with your mission, seeing as I knew Revan and Malak.”

“That makes sense.” Revan looks relieved when Senna doesn’t reveal her identity in front of her friends. “Um… This is HK-47. He’s an assassin droid.”

“Ah. That explains his rather… Colorful language.” Senna nods and turns to the man. “I’m Senna. I, um… I served under Revan in the Mandalorian Wars.”

“Canderous of clan Ordo. I served against Revan in the war.” He was the Mandalorian Carth had mentioned, then.

“Well, I guess we’ll both be serving the same side this time around.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but she doesn’t laugh or even look at him. She cannot move her eyes away from Revan.

“Guess so.”

Having a Mandalorian on board doesn’t do anything to improve her sleep.

“We’ve found the maps on Dantooine, Tatooine and Manaan.” Bastila points to each of the three planets on the holomap behind her. “Which leaves Korriban and Kashyyk. I suggest that we go to Kashyyk first.”

Senna wonders how they’re going to approach Korriban without anyone recognizing Revan - or without anyone recognizing her, for that matter. It’s a gamble, and not the fun kind. She doesn’t say anything.

“Czerka Cooperation practically owns Kashyyk these days, so if we’re going there we’re gonna have to be careful.” Carth points out, and the wookie – Zalbaar - Senna’s been informed that his name is - roars in agreement.

“I think Kashyyk is the logical place to start too. Three jedi, a Republic soldier, a Mandalorian, a kid and a Wookie walking around Korriban doesn’t seem like a brilliant idea.” She points out.

“Yeah, and you. The Sith would know your face, right?” Carth massages his temples.

“They might. I’m more worried that they’ll recognize the jedi that killed Revan, though.” She looks directly at Revan as she says it.

They run into each other in the main hold one night. Revan (Rea, Ceeira, whoever she is these days) is holding an empty mug, staring at nothing in particular. Senna has a bottle of whiskey in one hand and her pillow in the other.

“Couldn’t sleep?” She asks Revan, to fill the silence if nothing else.

“Something like that.” Revan replies with a shrug.

“Me neither.” She sits down and opens her bottle. Revan sits down next to her but doesn’t says anything. She thinks she might have preferred talking.

“I keep having these dreams.” Revan explains after a bit. “About lying on a field on Dantooine and watching the sky and I’m so happy. And then I wake up and it feels so far away.”

She pours some whiskey into Revan’s mug before drinking straight out of the bottle herself. She’s much too sober to be having this conversation.

“We used to hide there when we were in trouble. You and me and A- Malak, I mean.” She closes her eyes and takes another drink.

“I knew you before the war?” Revan’s voice is full of genuine surprise and she feels her heart breaking all over again.

“We were friends.” Senna confirms before getting up. “I’m gonna try to get some sleep again. You should too.”

She doesn’t sleep at all that night. Instead, she lets her mind wander to sitting with Rea’s head on her lap on a Dantooine field, laughing at Alek’s impression of Vrook.

It’s strange, how all three of them are still alive and dead at the same time. Alek, now Malak, so consumed by his own hatred that there’s nothing left of him. Rea, a jedi again, but one without any recollection of who she is. And herself, dead in the force and wandering the galaxy hoping that she might some day find a way to justify her existence.

The force certainly had a sense of humor.

#breaking the silence #kotor #kotor 2 #oc: ceeira #oc: senna

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crimsxnflxwerz · 7 years

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Don’t Want it Troubling Your Mind [bfu fic] -chapter 4

Don’t Want it Troubling Your Mind Fandom: buzzfeed unsolved Pairing: Shane Madej/Ryan Bergara; Shane Madej & Ryan Bergara Summary: Shane Madej really liked Ryan Bergara. He was funny, a joy to mess with, and took his brand of teasing pretty well. He would consider him a friend, kind of. But when the team goes to investigate the Franklin Castle for ghosts, Shane gets more than he bargained for, and the results could cost him his friendship with Ryan. Rating: teen Warnings: Demonic Possession, Existential Crisis, Complicated Relationships Authors note: This is a repost from Archive for people who don’t like Archive/prefer tumblr/etc. sup guys.

A week goes by. A whole week. And not just any week, the kind of week where you can feel every second of every day, grinding your teeth, unable to feel anything except your blood pumping through your body and gravity pressing down on your bones. The kind of week that lasts more than seven simple days.

No, it wasn’t the work that was getting deep under Shane’s skin, it wasn’t the stress, or the sleep, or the lack of appetite. It wasn’t his used up sick days, or the laundry sitting in a pile at the end of his bed. It wasn’t the rising electricity bills, or the polluted city air, or the hole forming in his favorite pair of socks.

It was Ryan Bergara.

You see, this whole week, Shane and Ryan didn’t really talk. No, what they did was an elaborate dance. They would discuss, not talk. They would plan, not hang. They wouldn’t make eye contact. They wouldn’t smile or laugh. They barely acknowledged each other’s presence unless it was unavoidable.

To be clear, this was not Shane’s choice. If he was in charge of whatever this was, it would be cancelled immediately. Shane missed Ryan’s quirky smile, and his cheerful laugh, and his playful banter. It wasn’t that he didn’t have other friends, it wasn’t anything like that. It was just, Ryan was special. All his friends were special, everyone was special to him. Everyone was different in their own ways, bringing new ideas to the table, sharing weird thoughts, laughing together. He missed that with Ryan. He missed Ryan.

He may have heard that the clip of the demon was under scrutiny right now in the office. The camera guys remembered seeing some weird stuff happening on the cameras, but they couldn’t conclude if it was fake or not. A deeply rooted part of him knew, for a fact, that the film hadn’t been tampered with. Beyond trusting Ryan, he’d seen this creature that manipulated the footage, the bustling swarm of bees, the storm cloud of evil, or something.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. As Shane grew more distant from his own life, Anael started appearing in small patches throughout the day. Shane could see it in other people’s face, hear its voice in the wind, feel the heat under his skin, like something alive lived there. He felt haunted. He never thought he’d feel this way. He always viewed a haunting like those typical horror movie theatrics. Complete with dish tossing and flickering lights. This was none of that. Anael crept into his mind and laid all the traps. Every sense, manipulated, made vulnerable. The ghost he’d seen in his apartment building before, that must have been Anael. He had done extensive research about the building, and it was relatively new construction, on land that wasn’t cursed in any way. There were no records of deaths, unusual occurrences, or hauntings to be found. With what Anael could do to his vision, hearing, and perception, he figured that must be it.

He wasn’t at the point yet of looking into ways to get rid of demons. There was still a part of him that wanted so desperately for this all to be a bad burrito, or lack of sleep, or too much caffeine. He thought of seeing a therapist, because for a hot second, he believed his google diagnosis of psychosis.

Ever since Franklin Castle, he’d felt beyond fucked up. He wasn’t really sure how to go about patching things up, especially while the reason they were broken was still active in his life. Anael wasn’t doing much but just spooking him now. In fact, he felt as if the fun that Anael was having was becoming repetitive. He knew that the demon hated repetitive things, he’s sure it would spice it up a little soon enough. He feared the worse for when that happened.

The Franklin Castle episode ended up being delayed, due to the questionable footage. People were still looking at it, wondering what was wrong there. No one found anything to suggest tampering, but they still didn’t believe it was real. Instead, the boys were charged with looking for a new place to shoot.

Shane honestly thought this would be a good thing. It would take their minds off of what happened, distract himself from whatever was happening to him, and let them move along in the series. After a little bit of searching, they decided to go to the Villisca axe murder house in Iowa. It was a strange little house in a strange little town. Along with being strange, it was also old. Many people had owned it since the murder, and many people have toured it as well. Shane did a little digging and found that there were many reports of whispers, experiencing strange urges, and other classic haunting things, like noises and unexplained temperature drops.

Shane was pretty sure that he could manage on shoot without doing anything too stupid.

Probably.

The shoot was in three days. They planned on driving, so maybe he could convince the group that they could take two cars (something about the luggage being too big) so that he could spend some quality time with Ryan. He was sure he could fix this, if only Ryan would let him. Not that he blamed Ryan for any of this, it wasn’t his fault- it couldn’t be. Shane was the one who called Ryan’s show a joke. He was the one who couldn’t accept facts or admit that he was wrong. Ryan probably felt more offended by Shane’s apparently disbelieve and lack of faith in him than by any offhanded comment about the show. Friends were supposed to trust each other, through thick and thin, through better or worse.

Shane mapped out the course they would take. Around sixteen hours, give or take, that they would be driving. It was already a full day of driving, and with time for stops, as well as driver switches, they would have to plan on travel being around 18 hours. They wouldn’t be able to shoot, even if they got on the road at the crack of dawn. He would have to stock up on five-hour energy, or a monster cup of coffee, or something. He just hoped that Ryan would be into the idea, the separate cars thing, that is.

When Shane arrived at the office, it was already bustling. It was 7am, and lots of people had come early to get work done earlier. It was rapidly approaching Halloween, and that meant parties. The earlier they could get out of work, the better, in that case. Arriving before 7am was just the compromise.

Shane wasn’t so big on parties, so he didn’t really care if he got home later. He was just going to go home and swap his work clothes for pajamas, pop some popcorn, and settle in for a scary movie anyways. He smiled at the thought, but did deflate a little when he remembered that Ryan probably wouldn’t be joining him.

As he walked to his desk, he wondered if he should just come right out and say it. Tell Ryan what was happening, that a demon was haunting him, making him say and do things. He wanted to tell Ryan, but there was a fear deep in his chest, one of insecurity. What if Ryan thought he was pulling his leg? What if he thought that Shane just wanted that get out of jail free card, and just made it all up? Shane was a lot of things, even an asshole sometimes, but pretending to be possessed was not something he would ever do to prank Ryan. Call out to spirits? Yeah. Challenge demons and lay on pentagrams on the ground? Yeah, he would do that. All that stuff was humorous. Ryan always laughed at his antics. Being possessed, or pretending to be? No. That was somehow crossing a line. Shane wasn’t really a man to cross lines often.

Ryan was at his desk next to Shane’s when he got there.

“Morning, Ryan.” Shane said. He smiled. Ryan glanced up at him quickly in acknowledgement, before looking right back down at his screen.

“Morning,” he said. “So, got everything planned out for the trip?”

“Yeah, about that,” Shane began, pausing just enough to get Ryan to look at him again. “I was wondering if we could take two cars. Me and you in one, the crew in a second.”

“Um, why would we do that?” Ryan asked. He looked back towards his computer. Shane sighed.

“I thought that it would give everyone more room.” Shane shrugged. “It is going to be a long car right after all.”

Ryan was quiet for a moment, staring intently at his screen. He seemed to be considering what Shane was saying. Shane sheepishly crossed his fingers.

“Okay, sure,” he agreed. Shane silently cheered. “We can do that.”

“You wanna take my car or yours?” Shane asked. Ryan looked back at the taller man and quirked a small smile.

“Mine, of course.” He said. Then, almost like he’d caught himself having fun, his face fell, and he looked back at his monitor. “Just, make sure you’re ready, we’ll be leaving really early.”

Shane sat down at his desk, mentally preparing all the things he needed to accomplish on this car ride. He was going to patch things up with Ryan. They were gonna be close again, and Shane wanted nothing more than that. Well, he also wanted this damn demon to leave him alone, but in his book, Ryan came first, always.

That night he called Sara to hang out at his place. She was glad to chill, since she wasn’t too big on parties either. She came over and they changed into the spookiest pajamas they had, popped some fresh popcorn on the stove, and settled down to watch some bad horror movies on Netflix. They put on Friday the Thirteenth, but Stranger Things was in their queue for series to watch together, so they figured that would be next.

“So,” Sara said, plopping down on the couch with their bowl of popcorn. She crossed her legs under it, tucking her feet in. Shane sat next to her. It was oddly reminiscent of cuddling with Ryan on his couch during the documentaries night. To think that wasn’t so long ago, but it felt like it’d been years at this point. “How’s the Ryan situation?”

“Ahh, do you really gotta bring that up?” Shane sighed, but there was also teasing in his voice. He knew she was just concerned, and it wasn’t like he’d done anything too horrible, so it shouldn’t be hard to talk about it. For whatever reason, he just kept making it harder, which he’d quickly realized was a horrible thing to be doing.

“Hey! I’m concerned about you!” She said, smiling. “I believe in you, Madej. You and Ryan will patch things right up, then you’ll go back to being dorks or whatever.”

“Hey, I’m not a dork.” Shane said, though it had no heat. He knew she was right.

“Yeah, because lots of cool grown men get excited about kid’s cartoon series.” She teased.

“Gravity Falls is a masterpiece,” Shane argued. “Dipper is the most relatable character to ever exist.”

Sara shrugged. “Wendy was my favorite.”

After that, Friday the Thirteenth started playing, and they began their little movie watching spree. After the third episode of Stranger Things, Sara forced herself to stop watching. She didn’t really plan on sleeping over, so she got all her things and left, wishing him a goodnight. When she was gone, Shane glanced at the time. 12:20am. He managed to carry himself to his bed somehow, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out.

In his dream, he’s in a dark room, but he recognizes it. It’s a blue bedroom, moonlight peeks in from the cracks in the curtains. He’s not alone. Beside him sits a figure. He can tell that it’s Ryan. He wonders if this is some continuation of that last dream he had, but the thought leaves his head like it was blown away. He can’t see Ryan’s face, but he knows the expression there already. He’s frowning, but not an upset frown, a contemplative one. He raises a hand in the dark, touches his lips, and sighs. Shane can feel the tension in the air thinning out, as Ryan moves back in, closing the distance between them. He feels the side of Ryan’s head press into his chest, an arm wrapped around his waist. His other hand bracing himself against the bed, Shane can feel the dip. He’s not sure where to put his own hands, but one finds its way to Ryan’s hair and tangles itself there.

“It’s okay, I know this isn’t you,” Ryan says, and it sounds weird, like they’re underwater. “I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.”

Shane opens his mouth to speak, but the words catch in his throat. Suddenly he feels an anger well up inside him. He tries to push it back, push it away, because it’s not his own, but he fails. The anger rises up and takes control of his body. He fists his hand in Ryan’s hair and yanks him off of him. Shane watches from outside of himself, as his body pins Ryan to the bed and growls like an animal. He moves forward to try and push his body off of Ryan, but then he turns his head and looks at himself. His eyes are yellow. So, so yellow, and so hot. Angry. Just this look sends Shane backwards, out of the room, and he hears the door slam and lock. Tears stream down his face.

“No!” he screams, but no one can hear him. “Fuck! No, no, no! I don’t want this! I fucking hate this!”

Shane jolted awake. He felt something on his face, and when he reached up, he wiped away tears. He sat up and saw that his pillow was wet, as well. Had he been crying?

The dream he had was foggy, but he remembered the hot anger, the desperate begging, the slamming door. He shivered. Just when he thought Anael was leaving him alone, he comes straight back with a dream to torture him.

He checked his clock. 5:57am. He might as well get ready for work. The shoot was in two days, and they would be leaving tomorrow. He still hadn’t packed yet, but he figured he could just do that after work today.

He walked into his bathroom and turned the light on, revealing a figure standing behind him to his left. He jumped, biting back a scream. The figure was a man with piercing yellow cat eyes, skin black as soot, with horns spiraling up out of its choppy black hair. It looked more like a shadow than a man, the edges of it blurring and misting. Shane spun around to face it, but it wasn’t there. He turned back around to look in the mirror and it was still there.

“What is it Madej?” the figure said, but there was no mouth, just a voice clear as day echoing in his head. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“No, no, no,” Shane said through clenched teeth. “Stop fucking with me.”

“Maybe I would, if you would just let me in—” the figure raised an arm to touch Shane’s shoulder. Before it could touch him, he jumped away from the mirror, staring back into the bathroom. Mist seemed to pour from all the little shadows in his bathroom to form a man. Shane moved backwards again, but tripped over his own feet and fell. He landed on his ass, looking up at the shadow demon.

“I saw what you want to do to Ryan,” Shane growled. Scared, but angry. The combination knocked the breath from his chest, made his head spin. “If you so much as breath in Ryan’s direction, I’ll kill you.”

The yellow eyes narrowed with mirth, and a horrible, echoing laugh sounded through his head.

“You? Kill me?” it laughed. “Not even in your dreams, Madej.”

The demon’s laughter got deeper and deeper as it’s body twisted and snapped, shrinking in on itself and reforming into something else. Shane scrambled to his feet, and when he looked back, a black dog had taken the demon’s place. It also had poison-yellow eyes, but this monster had large, white teeth and red, red gums. Shane bolted for his door, the dog growling and taking off after him, its jaws snapping mere inches from his ankles. He swung his door open and slammed it shut, sighing in relief when he felt a large thud hit the wood followed by a pained whimper.

At the sound of a cleared throat, Shane looked to the side. His neighbor was standing outside their apartment, giving him a concerned look. Shane slid down the door and sat on the floor. He smiled as normally as possible and waved.

“Such a great morning, isn’t it?” he laughed.

When Shane went back into the apartment after a quick walk outside to clear his head, it was exactly as he had left it. Nothing was out of place; besides the things he’d knocked over in his mad dash outside. He hoped that Anael didn’t decide to make yet another demon dog appearance. That one was by far the most terrifying.

It wasn’t as if Shane didn’t like dogs. He never had a dog in his life, or a cat, or anything larger than your average rodent. Dogs tended to make him nervous, generally, although he rationally knew that most of them were harmless. Stray dogs, however? They were unpredictable. They say not to pet stray dogs for a good reason.

Everything seemed to be okay, though, so he proceeded with getting ready. Though, he thought he would be early when he woke up this morning. He guessed he would have been if it weren’t for the demon haunting him. At this point, he could still solidly say that the demon scared him. Yeah, he wasn’t scared by much, but a demon who can transform into a rabid dog, speak through his mind, and wanted to ruin his life was pretty terrifying. Although, that fear was starting to move aside a little for a second feeling: anger. He was angry. Anael was getting in the way of his life, his friendships, his alone time. He was angry, because Ryan wasn’t talking to him, and he wasn’t doing anything about it.

This road trip would fix it. He would tie up all the loose ends. He would fix all the damage. He would trust Ryan and Ryan would trust him. He wouldn’t let the demon take Ryan, but he sure as hell was getting Ryan back.

He guessed that started with telling Ryan the truth.

When he walked into work, he immediately noticed that Ryan wasn’t at his desk. He saw that there were papers all over, his laptop open and dimmed in inactivity. There were two empty cups of coffee, a handful of printed photographs, a notebook, and three pens: one black, one red, and one blue. Shane looked around the room, but couldn’t see Ryan anywhere in the space. He pulled out his phone and opened his messaging app. He clicked on Ryan’s name.

His fingers hovered over the digital keyboard. Should he really shoot Ryan a text?

Fuck it.

Shane: Hey, you’re not at your desk, everything okay?

He sat down and booted up his computer. A few moments went by, where he mindlessly shuffled some documents around, before his phone chirped at him.

Ryan: yeah something’s come up Ryan: meet me in conference room b Ryan: we gotta talk

Shane immediately felt a little nauseous. He stood up so quickly that he didn’t see someone standing behind him, and knocked into them. Papers spilled out all over the ground.

“Oh god,” he said, bending down to help pick up the mess he made. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking—”

“Shane, it’s okay.” A familiar voice said. When he looked over at the person collecting papers with him, he saw that it was Keith. He grinned at Shane, collecting the last of the papers, before standing up. Shane handed him the ones he picked up. “In a rush?”

Shane scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, kinda, idk?” he wasn’t sure why he had the urge to run, but he did. “Sorry I bumped into you. You know how I get.”

Keith laughed. “Yeah, I know. I won’t keep you, here, thanks for helping me pick up.”

Shane blushed as he moved around Keith and made his way down the hall. He passed a few private offices and empty rooms, before he came to the conference rooms at the end of the hall. To the left were more rooms. He went up to the second one, took a breath in, and opened the door.

The conference room was spacious. In the middle of the floor was a table that easily sad ten people. All the chairs had wheels, and where all pushed out from the table in different directions like a group of people had just left. In one of the chairs sat Ryan. He seemed to be studying some papers. Shane cleared his throat, closing the door with a soft click.

Ryan turned around with a pensive look on his face. When he saw Shane, he seemed to almost smile, before his face fell.

“So, I’m just going to get right to the point,” he started, moving to stand. He didn’t look very happy. “We can’t publish the Franklin Castle episode.”

Shane felt like a rug was yanked out from under his feet. “What, now?”

“We can’t use the footage,” he repeated. “Remember the thing I showed you? I found more corruption and mysterious audio in the rest of the footage in the basement. When management saw the footage, they were convinced I had altered the footage, and demanded the original. I couldn’t give them anything, because I hadn’t done anything to the footage.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “They said that if I didn’t remove the altered footage, they would cancel my show. I didn’t know what to do, so I decided to just scrap the whole episode.”

Shane stepped closer to Ryan, holding out his hands as if to comfort his friend, but stopped halfway. “Ryan, I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t do anything to the audio or the video! That was real evidence!” Ryan shouted, and it sounded desperate. “I swear I didn’t do anything! I swear!”

“Hey, hey,” Shane said in a calming voice. He reached out and grabbed Ryan by the shoulders as gently as possible. Ryan looked up at him. “Hey, I believe you. I believe you.”

Ryan looked hopeful for a moment, before he shrugged off Shane’s hands, looking hurt. “You said the show was a joke. You’re probably just saying this now, because I was mad at you.”

“Ryan, please, listen to me,” Shane started, trying to appear as honest as possible. “I believe you. You want to know why?”

Ryan was silent for a while, still sporting the lidded, untrusting look. Then, he sighed, nodding. “Yeah.”

“When we were in that house, I felt some things.” He said. “The first time I went into the basement, I was snooping around when I felt cold hands grab my shoulders from behind me. I turned around and no one was there. That’s why I was running.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “So, when you were freaking me out in the basement—”

“I was experiencing something again like that. It was so weird and freaky,” Shane said. “I didn’t want to freak you out just then, and then later I just didn’t want to admit it.”

Ryan grinned, moving forward into Shane’s space and placing a hand on his arm. “So, you believe me? And stuff happened to you there?”

“Yes, of course, I believe you,” Shane said. “I know you wouldn’t alter tapes to fake evidence. You’re not that kinda guy.”

The smaller man let go of his arm and turned back around to collect his things.

“Well, even if we don’t get to post the Franklin Castle video,” he said, “at least we’re gonna be filming again soon. At the Villisca ax murder house, right?”

“Yeah,” Shane confirmed. They walked together back to their desks. “The drive’ll be fun, and I have a good feeling about this place.”

“Me, too,” Ryan agree. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Stood in each other’s space. Ryan looked as excited as he felt. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

#bfu fic #my fic #buzzfeed unsolved #shyan #shyan fic #me

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acrispyapple · 7 years

Text

50 more interesting questions

Rules: fill this out and tag at least one person you’d like to know more about! Or just fill it out! Or don’t! Answer only some of them! Make up your own questions! “What kind of requirement is that”, you ask? A reasonable one! Who am I to tell you what to do? Anything goes!

Tagged by @incorrectmidc i had this open for days and i answered a few questions per night lol @o0w0o and @deathbymidnightcinderella <3

1. What kind of food can’t you stand? spicy stuff and umm food loaded with exotic spices / herbs

2. If you could choose one minor inconvenience to never have to deal with again, what would you pick? my mouse ending up double clicking after a year or so

3. Have you got any useless talents? i have way too much trivia and animal facts. plus random skills with no practical use. oh and playing the piano is also a useless talent for me since i don’t really “use” it

4. If you were really really good at one thing, what would it be? my answer isn’t an “if” thing lol. i have a really good memory. it really helps with mostly anything i do + it makes studying easier. but sometimes people think it’s creepy that i remember little things about them, they think i keep notes about them or something lol-- but i really do just remember.

5. Name a few people you think are extremely good-looking - umm neil caffrey (matt bomer) from white collar, nick burkhardt (david giuntoli) from grimm, daniel shaw (brandon routh) from chuck -- i seem to have a type haha. omg i forgot jo in-sung. i’ve always thought he was handsome!

6. What was your favorite way to pass the time as a kid? i was a pretty boring kid. i just read books, watched cartoons, and organized things. as a kid i’d look at my toys but never really play with them because i liked seeing them all set up nicely. i just kept collecting stuff i liked. the most i’d do that’s remotely active was play with my dogs

7. What is something you’re proud of? i do well academically and i learn fast. and somehow i’m proud of how i’ve remained the same over the years.

8. What’s one character flaw in people that you just can’t tolerate? i don’t know if this is considered a character flaw but i really dislike poor manners haha. it drives me crazy when people open their mouth while chewing or if it’s too noisy. i die a bit inside. besides table manners and manners in general, i dislike people who are rowdy during inappropriate times.

9. Do you consider yourself to be more of a leader or a follower? both but to avoid stress sometimes i just want to follow. i’m a bit of a perfectionist / rule follower so i get frustrated a lot. i know not everyone is like a machine but it’s hard with my ocd lol. and no this isn’t just me saying ocd like most people when referring to certain things, i actually do have it and i have medication for it

10. What kind of student are/were you? normal i guess. i got along well with people, i didn’t fail anything, and i never rebelled or did anything wild. it was uneventful lol. i’m still technically a student now, but i see it more as an adult thing.

11. Butterfly effect question! Has there ever been a seemingly minor decision you’ve made (at the time) that ended up having a profound influence on your life? i’m sure everyone has one

12. Name your most irrational fear/aversion well it’s not a fear per se, but i have an aversion to most asian food, sorta? the smell sets me off especially if it has a bunch of spices or herbs in it. my nose is just sensitive and i get affected easily by strong scents. but i’m fine with japanese food, maybe some korean and chinese stuff. for fears, iono, i don’t think it’s irrational to be afraid of spiders and big cockroaches ><

13. Are there any fictional characters you find especially relatable? a bunch haha but it’s mostly people associating them with me first. i’m not tsundere..... how dare they

14. If you drink, what kind of drunk are you? Alternatively, what sort of person are you at parties? i don’t think i’ve ever gotten drunk the way people imagine people getting drunk to be like. i remain the same except i get a headache. i don’t really change at all. and in parties i guess i just stay close to my friends. stranger danger lmao

15. Do you fall in love easily? Or does it usually take a long time for you to trust someone? umm no i do not. i mean i can trust them fine but i don’t think i can believe their feelings until they can prove it isn’t just a short time attraction. i’m in for long term stuff so i don’t really wanna waste time if it’s not headed there. but yeah currently in a long term relationship

16. Would you rather have one close friend or 100 casual friends? having fewer friends makes it easier for me to update all of them without getting tired of repeating the same story over and over haha

17. Do you consider yourself to be more of a slob or a neat-freak? always organized and no one’s allowed to touch my things haha

18. Describe a place (imaginary or real) that you would find incredibly cozy i’ve always wanted a seating area near a huge window with a good view, bunch of pillows, earphones + music

19. Do you have kids? If not, do you want them someday? nah i don’t think i can handle it. i’d probably go insane trying to control them and making them become my idea of what a person should be like

20. What was your favorite book as a child? the chronicles of narnia, still love it to this day because it’s really written well

21. Name one thing you just don’t get what all the hype is about WHAT IN THE WORLD DOES A FIDGET SPINNER DO -- yeah i’m sorry, i think it’s stupid

22. Name one thing that you think is tragically underrated i should have an answer for this but i totally forgot lol

23. If you had to be glued to a person for a month, real or fictional (who you have never met), who would you choose? since im in the midcin fandom i’ll just say byron

24. What’s something you’d like the chance to do someday? visit all the haunted places i’ve ever read about, and prolly explore old ruins. i was way into archaeological finds etc way back

25. Do you typically speak your mind when you have a controversial opinion? Or do generally prefer to not rock the boat? i try to say it in the most courteous way possible. i can’t keep it to myself because it would bother me and my mind would just dwell on it forever but i also don’t like offending people haha

26. What’s the dumbest fad you’ve been caught up in? sTiCkY cApS in chat (but i stopped after a month okay, and i was 12)

27. What’s something you thought was cool as a kid/adolescent, but now cringe at yourself for? typing in sTiCkY CaPs. kill 12 year old me pls

28. What’s a trait you consider to be very admirable? being kind and yet still firm when needed even when it comes to friends. i really admire people who don’t just blindly agree with their peers

29. Is there a particular kind of item people always tend to give you as gifts? (For instance, people always get you things with ducks on them because you like ducks, etc.) people give me stuff with owls, bears, hedgehogs, or stars because i love them. i also love stationery and pens. i like getting different colors and i never use them. i just keep them forever haha

30. Do you speak multiple languages? Which ones? i know a bit of stuff from other languages but not enough to be proud of it. i don’t want to be a poser and claim yeaaaahh i speak this and that lol

31. Would you rather live in the big city or the countryside? city please. i hate the quiet countryside. it’s like if someone comes to kill you and there’s no one around and you’d be all “this is why i should’ve been in the city with people everywhere”

32. Has there ever been something you were certain you’d hate, but ended up loving? byron wagner from midcin. when i first started and i saw him i was all, ehh eyepatch dude. so edgy. lmao. i even purposely skipped him during certain events and i regret that now.

33. Do you mind being the center of attention, or do you prefer the spotlight to be on someone else? i don’t want to be the center of attention, i’d feel awkward

34. Favorite holiday? the usual, christmas and new years eve... but i miss having an actual christmas where it isn’t summer...

35. Are you a more go-with-the-flow type of person, or do you need to have things planned meticulously? i always have a plan lol

36. Is there something you loved so much you wish you could forget it and experience it all over again? (A tv show, book, series–anything.) hmm, i can watch something over and over with no problem. all good

37. What hobbies do you have? reading (but it’s mostly fantasy and sci-fi), watching crap, annoying my dogs, playing video games, making stories in my head. I WISH I COULD WRITE AND DO IMAGERY WELL. oh well

38. If you could have a superpower, but it was only mildly useful, what ability would you want to have? the ability to moisturize instantly, one click. that’ll save me time daily

39. Something people are always surprised to learn about you that i like video games and anime lol. and that i’m happy to talk to them T_T

40. Something that took you way too long to figure out i still don’t know how to knife. how to knife~ i mean how to slice things or chop things or do anything in the kitchen

41. Worst injury you’ve had? is it considered an injury when you’ve had to get 4 major surgeries in a year? i mean i guess tending to / waiting for the surgery scars to get better can be considered an injury since it took a while and it was sorta a pain

42. Any morbid fascinations? umm, i can’t think of one

43. Describe your sense of humor i don’t really know lol. i make a lot of jokes and sometimes it breaks the mood for people lol

44. If you had to be born in another era/place, which would you choose? i really like princess stuff but the real medieval stuff would be dirty people who don’t take baths and really horrible stuff so maybe just the fantasy version of that + high speed internet

45. Something you are irredeemably bad at not rambling when i really like something. to the people who’ve ever had to listen to me whenever i got excited about something-- i’m sorry

46. Something that sucked but you’re glad you went through going to a nature retreat thing 3 months ago or something. i had no internet and it made me cry inside but i guess it was fine

47. Would you rather have a really godawful ugly tattoo in a place that is only slightly inconvenient to conceal with clothing (upper arm, thigh, etc.), or the coolest, most beautiful tattoo ever in the middle of your face? (Neither tattoo can be removed or concealed with makeup, and the ugly tattoo will deeply offend anyone who sees it.) i don’t really want tattoos in general so i guess the ugly one.

48. Are you more of an optimist or a pessimist? optimist

49. What would be the most flattering compliment someone could give you? something that isn’t physical or shallow. i’d be really happy if people noticed my achievements or if they liked something about my personality-- or if they found me funny lol

50. Something you feel people often misunderstand about you that i’m not nice lol because i keep to myself unless spoken to irl + that unimpressed scowl i always have. it’s like my default facial expression!

not forcing anyone to do it since it’s very long, just tagging for the sake of tagging! and i think most of the people i know have already been tagged? i’ve seen this tagged post done by most of them lol

@ashnable @nimmywik @captiveotomeprincess @otometrashcan @princessdiarymdc @arimii @madamemalfoy21 @kinkymint @oh-my-otome

#tag game #personal #50 more interesting questions

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the-wolfs-raven · 5 years

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♌: what’s your family like?♍: other blogs?♎: would you date your muse?♏: would you and your muse be friends?♐: 3 things that scare you

♌: what’s your family like?

Ooh. Boy. Well, my dad’s pretty chill. He was a hippy and all that. Did a LOT of drugs in his time (which I didn’t learn about til this year. Go figure.). Got a bit of casual racism stuck in his humor, but he doesn’t mean any ill-will to anyone. He’s a good guy overall.

My mother and her family, though. Damn. Like. I’ve never met anyone so hateful and paranoid about the world. Grandma turned me into a fundamentalist Christian psycho in elementary school (thankfully that got nipped in the bud in middle school). Ma always said she’d disown us if we were gay (then did a complete 180 when my brother came out). They’ve mellowed a bit with time, but now Grandma has Alzheimer's and is a complete psycho nut again. Also, again with the casual racism, but they’re far more serious about it. Typical MAGA folk.

So woo for breaking the hate cycle, I guess?

♍: other blogs?

Loads.

@thepalewolfhowls is Tara’s daughter, Taria Fletcher. My little lore bender. Very angry daughter of Lo’Gosh with a fondness for orcs and punching people. She has her own daughter now, Accalia, and a sort-of mate, Grok’tor Ironbite, a grizzled war veteran. Taria underwent chronomantic aging to make her an adult (partially because I fucked up my timelines. Partially because a child is an inconvenient agent and adult Taria can break so many more skulls). She would have been around 7 years old if not for the aging, but she is fully an adult, physically, mentally, and emotionally (though her step-father may argue the latter. lol)

@bluewolfcaravan is Tara’s trading and shop ventures. Lots of fun stuff there when I’m not too dead to run them.

@the-white-lioness is Ishtara Lionstar. A Night Elf whore who originally turned Tara down the path of owning her sexuality. She and her lions are all named for Assyrian (Mesopotamian, whatever) figures since its a good chunk of my heritage. Lovely lion whore, basically.

@wordhobbies is Necrocia Witherwing aka Twitchy formerly known as Sentinel Lyralel Dawnwhisper. After a traumatic blow to the head, the elf became completely unhinged, putting herself in dangerous situations and stitching herself back together. Though she’s never technically died, you wouldn’t know it from looking at her. She also has...Hobbies. Lots of hobbies. “I asked myself, why should a murloc only have two eyes? Why not ten? Or TWENTY THREE?!” …ehem…Her fascination with hobbies was actually pulled from an eccentric character from a children’s cartoon (Grandpapa Thistle from Ben and Holly’s Little Kingdom). Occasionally, she has short periods of sanity where her hair returns to its normal state and she becomes terrified of everything that’s happened to her. Twitchy is almost emaciated and has various scribbles, scars, tattoos, etc all over her body from just...various things. Sometimes she needs to remember something and she’ll literally just ink it into her skin. If she can’t find something to tattoo herself with, she’ll just carve it on. She’s extremely difficult to play for a long period of time because she just requires SO much energy.

@obscure-snowdrop is my little Shadow Whisperer bookworm who I made specifically to join the Crows. She began hearing whispers at a young age and they keep her relatively sane despite her horrific life. If wards or any such thing silence the whispers, she goes into a fit as everything that has worn on her over time coalesces in one fell swoop.

@snaythes These were my spook family from many fandoms back. They are hemomancers of sorts with various quirks. The eldest brother builds furniture from human parts. One brother is a butcher who specializes in cannibalistic delicacies. One brother, who had his heart broken, incorporates unused bodies into their home’s décor. His ex-fiancée currently serves as a chandelier in the living room (I realize the irony). The only sister is a painter who works with macabre and lascivious subjects. She and the eldest brother have an...unconventional relationship. The youngest brother is the most tame, and doesn’t really share his family’s penchant for violence and murder.

@korbintavernack aka Nix is a Blacktalon agent who worked closely with Taria in the past. He’s a brawler and a magebreaker with enough wards to silence any magical activity in a 20 foot radius around himself. He’s also responsible for the warding on Taria’s mind making her resistant to mental attacks and manipulation.

@theunkindness is an organization of (traditionally only Kaldorei) assassins and thieves who take morally upright contracts overall (killing bad folk like slavers, abusers, etc). Tara is a part of the Unkindness and still communicates with several of her old contacts.

@winterscalesheir is the original Warhammer 40k Tarvasha. She is the complete opposite of WoW Tara and I have no idea how it happened. The bastard daughter of Rogue Trader Calligos Winterscale, she’s determined to find the Baleful eye of Sebastian Winterscale and cement herself among her father’s bloodline.

♎: would you date your muse?

I mean, if I had to date someone, Tara would be a pretty high reach for me. I think I’d feel way too inferior to actually date someone like her, though I’d shower the poor girl with affection. We’d probably try to outdo each other in gift-giving and kind gestures. However, Tara is more heteroromantic, as am I, so even given the chance, it probably wouldn’t work. lol

♏: would you and your muse be friends?

I think we’d make decent friends. I don’t like the upkeep that comes with friendships and Tara tends to disappear a lot, so I think that would work out just fine in the end.

♐: 3 things that scare you

Someone breaking into my house. Seems kinda specific, but here’s the thing: I have a shit fight or flight response, even when my kids are involved (I once left them in the backyard as I was running away from a wasp). This is partially due to the fact that I was terrified of SIDS, so I didn’t allow myself to bond with my kids when they were born. A lot of people I know are like “Yeah, I’d bust someone’s ass if they ever tried to touch my kids” but honestly, I feel like I’d probably run like a bitch and hate myself forever for it. But who knows? Maybe I’d pick up a floor lamp and fucking wreck someone’s day? I’d rather not find out one way or the other.

Losing my technology. I live through screens. All of my memories are contained in my tech and on the web. I’m terrified that I’d lose those things. I’ve already had a phone run over and lost all of my children’s baby photos and videos. I have very little memory of those times, so losing that was pretty heartbreaking for me.

Apocalypse. Any sort of end-of-the-world bullshit where you’ve gotta figure out how to survive. A lot of my friends have bug out bags and everything else but my oldest is a Type 1 diabetic. If the places producing insulin suddenly stop, I have no way to keep my daughter alive. It’ll be cyanide pills for the lot of us.

Thanks for the ask @latildarommel! Sorry it got so heart-wrenching at the end. lol

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horrible-monstrosity · 6 years

Text

17 We open with friendly neighborhood dumbass Akko studying studiously, sitting on a bench in a sunny grassy field which she ignores in favor of a massive stack of books like the bookworm Lottie only sort of is, while redhead side witch bitches about dropping out of school because she's just too cool. An... interesting entrance into the episode, to be sure.

Redhead turns herself into a dashing boys' school student. ..... Did the spell make her grow bollocks

"even though no one's asking you?" is a pretty weird way to ask someone about their dream. I don't think anyone asked redhead to become a broomdancer, or robots girl to become robots, or... anyone to do anything they just wanted to do. and again, she has already accomplished what she says she wants to do- the yeti, in the next episode robert girl, the fairy strike... this show does not know what it has done or what it's doing.

... Wait, are they really here to just fucking steal the grail from the school? why? I've already forgotten why they wanted it, and why petty theft by a couple of randos is so easily accepted as a method of getting it back. Are there no witch authorities who might have wanted in on this? Later redhead says it "belongs" to the guys' school as a way to deflect explaining how it works... shrugg

Have I mentioned yet that I like the supporting trio more than the main three? I could probably write a whole fucking essay on that. All three of them are straight-up archetypes... but that alone is enough to make them at least basically functional as characters. Because that's *why* archetypes end up as archetypes- it's a grouping of character tropes and traits that hits a chord with people. And that's why "cunning normal" was such a fucking retarded concept, Kiznaiverrrrrrr-

It's kinda weird she stays disguised even after getting caught... I guess this is actually consistent; it's been shown before you need to use another spell to transform back, meaning unlike most settings ontological inertia actually applies. but then later on the transformation seems to start slowly undoing itself for no reason anyway. How does this work? magic router?? why'd akko even take that?... whatever

we finally get some violence against witches (threatened but never put though because of course not), which doesn't explain anything but at least characterizes the guys as your entirely typical medieval-styled witch not-likers. The fact that this is what passes for an improvement in this fuckshow of a shitshow is just fucking sad. there are some actually tense and brutal scenes in there, some nice visual shots, like akko getting thrown on the table tied up and the distant side-shot of the guy getting hit by the armor... that aren't killed by wackyness! Amazding! ... Though it still doesn't quite work, probably because the show is still clearly too light-hearted to, say, actually use the torture devices. But them being pulled out isn't a wacky gag either aside from a bit of the reaction. what tone is this?

"y u no use ur magic on me??" "because there's no reception here dumbass the fuck do you think this works like"

Yet another interesting unaddressed plot point- magic was what got them into this mess and turned blong guy into an armored monster, and while a witch was the one who stopped it little to no magic was used in doing so, she basically just needed to smack him hard enough. It seems like the takeaway from this is that witches are perfectly fine people, but magic still needs to fucking die. hmm

by the way what happened to the wordfinding plot this episode

So clearly this was Croi boi testing her angery magicks, but I have to wonder... *why* is anger magic the strongest sort? I mean, it can basically only be arbitrary, but how convenient that her evil energy-having plan can't just go off by spreading feelings of sunshine and happiness.

18 "trained to catch every gost in 12 days, but the goal is one gost in one year"... This is literally, exactly, what Lottie says. What? Literally one minute in and like 20 seconds of dialogue and already this shit makes not a single lick of fucking sense.

akko trips and fucks things up again okay we fucking get i- why was that enpugh to breakm the fucking robort? akko's own body must be the most destructive object know to mankind.

We return to the generic wackey-qwackey humorisms the show had mostly shed in the last couple episodes, and it feels more forced than ever before. After all these thng I can't actually believe Akko's still this shit... and apparently the show itself doesn't either, since as soon as Akko finds something she can actually do it entirely stops. Once she starts working as a convincer/go-between/gopher, not a single thing gets broken. In other words, Trigger just abandoned her character development to churn out and force out more mediocre obligate humor. But at least it was only for, like, half of the episode.

on the other hand once she gets her shit back together the cards get brought back. That was always a kind of interesting little thing, that Akko knew some things even other witches didn't because of the fandom-ing that brought her to the school where she was otherwise so far behind everyone else. I mean, that just raises the question of why the other witches apparently never saw these cards and I feel like I asked exactly this many an episode ago so let's just move the fuck on again

isn't the ship from the OVA? it looks like the shiny rod... and like the same old vaguely eva-lagann looking shit. I forget what it was from Gainax that looked like that, but definitely it was something.

"I already know I won't be as good as Constance"... Man, when Akko's good, she's fucking good. She really isn't trampling over someone else with the conviction that she's always right about everything, she's just so excited she wants to draw a fucking robort. And then Candace loves it and is inspired to make it actually work. it's fucking cute man

gosts viral on social media Normies can't see gosts, but presumably Akko can. How is this actually determined? Rather, the deeper problem is that the line between witches and normies was never defined. There's some implication that it's hereditary, since everyone aside from Akko comes from a "witching family", but the very existence of Akko belies that. So if anyone can train to become a witch, how much training do you do before you become witchy enough to see gost? Actually, should people with latent potential be able to see gost? If Akko is bad at becoming a witch, logically there should be some people who would be better at it relative to her. Shouldn't there be some people in the crowd who can see gost as is? Also, do any males exist with any amount of witch potential, who could see ghosts on their own? If they had never called attention to it by doing the "gost can't see normie" thing, there'd be nothing to really question- you could assume witching is a skill like any other that people could aquire, that's often handed down through families like any other job or career, and that some people are just kind of terrible at. Buuuuut they had to get in this lame "muh on muh cell phone at tuh evuuuunnnt" joke and didn't think it through. Good work, Trigger, keep it up

how is many crow? how many gost We're shown each cube succing up at least one gost each, then multiple cubes forming one crow, but then there's a whole fucking lotta fucking crows. How many gosts were there? How many were left after the large amount that were already taken out? There's just an unmeasured infinite supply of gost somewhere offscreen to conveniently move in as needed. Trigger didn't think this through. And then a super-giant mega-crow shows up which must have used up even more gost. Great

and then the robort- OKAY TRIGGER WE GET IT YOU WUZ GAINAX ONCE CALM THE FUCK DOWN this is just so boring. YEAH, A FUCKING ROBOT, WE GET IT TRIGGER, YOU FUCKS HAVE FUCKING ISSUES. GAINAX-SENPAI WILL NEVER FUCKING NOTICE YOU, GET OVER IT. ... reactions from the peanut gallery are on point tho. akko even credits constantinople for her part in making this possible. she's a good kid. so good. too pure for this fucking show - the robort runs out of energy- WHY DID YOU NOT BRING A ROUTER YOU FUCKNAUTS THERE WAS ONE IN THE IMMEDIATELY PRECEEDING EPISODE WHY - it's a drill. it's a fucking drill. ........ i want to cry acid.

team cubes it blastign off againnnnnnfuck this gay earth

aww man akko doesn't even want to be thanked but compton gives her a training broom anyway. it's beautiful.

19 an old tradition and a new power... croix-was-write is written into the very fabric of reality in this show. good and then mom-diana fucking dies. LOL BYE BITCH.

why would you have the head-appointing ceremony randomly every few years rather than, like, when you need to appoint a new family head? it would even affect the exact same urgency, just have events come to a head so she needs to be pulled out of school and become family head now. why are they electing a baby teen as family head anyway? what age are these kids, anyway? akko looks like ten sometimes.

the second diana says "muh respekt for convention!!" you know she's gonna be treated as full of shit. it's over something we've never heard of and had no reason to assume, anyway. i don't even know "you know about the words?" you've blabbed them to everyone including the rival school that wants to execute you all, so why are you surprised?

...... LOL WHUT THE AUNT LITERALLY HAS GLOWING RED DEMON EYES WHAT THE FUCC?

.... Andrew is one of the best fucking characters in this shitshow of a show. The amount of fucks he's come to not give... Just invite the witch girl your father knows and hates to ride in your car squished up between him and yourself. And dad-man just can't fucking do anything about it. Holy shit lol and lol these british people sure fucking love soccer. boy i sure bet this isn't hammed-in foreshadowing for some fucking bullshit that's going to happen in the last episodes!!!! i'd fucking bet my lyfe on it !!!!!!

what fuck is diantha wearing We get another one of those nice moments that makes me hate the rest of the show. Akko, being energetic and people-oriented as always but somewhat more constrained due to the awkward and unfamiliar situation, tries to go for the teddy bear as an attempt to start some conversation with Diana... Diana yells at her not to touch it, and she actually does not touch it. Now go back and watch the robot episode again. HMMMMMMmmmmm Except it wasn't about the bear, it was about the box of Chariot cards, because of course Diantha actually likes Chariot, bet no one ever saw that twist comingHEY WAIT A MINUTE, didn't one of the earlier episodes hinge on Akko knowing something Diantha didn't because of the cards?? It can't be because Akko was the only one to autistically memorize them all, because Diantha is smurt character and should have remembered it at least somewhat just from reading it normally. kindness from diana, when the rest of the family and household is by akko's own statement even worse.

old lady yells at akko while unfitting music plays

#triggered by trigger

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artistic-writer · 7 years

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50 Questions for Fic Readers - Answers

Found this @captain-k-jones had posted and i figured i’d give it a go too!

What fandom(s) do you read? Prison Break & Once Upon a Time mainly, but i used to read BtVS, Angel, 24, House MD

If you could request more of a certain type of fic, which would it be? AU...everyone loves a bit of AU! And POV...I absolutely love watching a scene and writing the characters POV, so more people should do it!

What is your favorite all-time fic? Trick of the Light by @msgenevieve447 without doubt is my all time favourite fic. I read it when it was first written, and i have loved it like a good book ever since <3 <3

Do you ever re-read fics? How about triple-read? Yes! Yes! and Yes! Whe nyou find that connection with a certain fic, or author, you become addicted!

Do you prefer angst or fluff? Angst. I love nothing more!

Do you prefer long fics or short fics? I love long fics! I like to get lost in them <3

Name some incomplete fics that you wish were completed. Uh...confession time. I try not to read incomplete fics unless i know the author...

Talk about the ships that you read. So i read Michael/Sara (PB) and Captain Swan (OUAT). Good, old fashioned angsty couples who, against the odds, end up together. And when they don’t, i’ll write an AU lol

Do you read smut? Of course, i am an adult! But i write a lot more ;)

What’s the most hard-core smut or kinky fic you’ve ever read (be honest) Well, i don’t know...none have really stayed in my mind for too long. I prefer writing them and hearing other people’s reactions :)

Do you read AUs? Who doesn’t :D It is what fuels our good ships, is it not?

List a few of your favorite AUs. I can’t! They are all so, sooo good! If you head over to prisonbreakfic.net i would suggest @msgenevieve447 (pen name msgenevieve) because her AU’s are my favs.

What type of AUs are your favorites? Give a general description. So i really like AU’s were the characters are meeting for the first time. A lot of my own AU’s start this way. I also really like AU’s when the characters are basically non-epliogue compliant versions of their show characters - same names, same jobs, same vices, etc. but with a twist. Basically, i like change, but not too much lol

What makes you give up on reading a fic? Well, lots of things. Writers who do not take the time to describe and set the scene irk me. I am a bit autistic, so i HAVE to know what is in every scene. Like, read any one of my fics and you will see i spend 1000′s of words desribing the fibres of the carpet lol I hate it when an author is so focused on getting to their goal they neglect to let me know stuff my brain deems important. It’s not enough that one character might give another some flowers, i want to know what the flowers look like, what colour they are, what they smell like, how a few petals might have the faintest sign of the colour fading, you know? And grammar. Bad grammar makes me sad.

What makes you pick up a fic, what makes it sound interesting? I love it when authors quote a tiny tidbit of their fic in the summary, and its so intriguing i need to know more! Also, the pairing as a huge influence on what i read - if i am not a fan of the character in the show, i probably will not read it unless you ask me to.

Name a fic that made you cry (or that made you come close). I can’t say that many have to be honest, not that i can remember. Maybe ten years ago, but this is my comeback to fandom, so i’m going to have to re-read everything!

Name a fic that made you laugh a lot. Again, i don’t recall. I generally don’t read humor fics...

Do you have a fic recommendation page or master list? I don’t, but if you have one for CS or MS, link me!

How many fics do you think you’ve read before? Who can put a number on this? Ten years ago, i could honestly say i had probably read the entirity of fics posted on LJ and PBF, but now there are so many more authors around, i’d better catch up!

What’s the weirdest fic you’ve ever read? Describe it. God, it was a BtVS fic where Giles and Xander were a couple and Giles was pregnant (?), and Spike and Buffy were a couple, but Spike was a dwarf (?!), and they were all on an adventure to Oz, to get a heart, brain, courage, etc. You get it. But the author was off their mind crazy so it was just...weird. I think it’s about that time i stopped offering to beta because i couldn’t handle the weirdness lol

Do you read crack!fic? Not really but i will if recommended

Name a few of your favorite crack!fics. None spring to mind lol

Has fluff ever made you cry? What about angst? Fluff generally doesn’t. I am far too blackened in RL to find fluffy stuff too emotional. I love me a good bit of Angst though, and i have to really get invested to cry Haven’t for a long time.

What’s the longest fic you’ve ever read? Only a few spring to mind. Safe House by @msgenevieve447 and Fighting Back by Pemphredo, but lots of great authors write great series!

What’s your opinion on reading dubious consent or no consent? I’ll read it, but mainly out of curiosity for writing styles. I find it fascinating to know how people interpret certain situations within the confines of the English language.

Name a type of fic you’ll never ever read. I’ll never not read something, but i wmight give up on it pretty quickly if its a bit...much lol

Name a type of fic that you wish there was more of. CS/PB crossovers! Because, why not. :p

Who are your favorite fanfiction author(s)? So forgive me that these are all PB writers, but i am still reading a lot of ONCE fics and getting to know the authors. So, @msgenevieve447, @wrldpossibility Clair_de_lune, halfshellvenus, Bec/volatile, Foxriverinmate, happywriter, Lyaiso, CutePoison, Rosie_spleen...so many good writers, i cannot name you all!

When you find an author you like, do you follow them? Yes, normally after reading just ONE of their fics too!

How often do you read fanfiction? Everyday, normally in bed or on my lunch breaks!

Do people know that you read fanfiction? Only my husband in RL.

Do you leave reviews after reading fics? If so, what do they sound like? I like to because every good author deserves to know that they have succeeded. We all thrive on the comments of others, so i like to tell them what i really enjoyed, what parts stuck out to me most and encourage them as much as i can :)

When you read a good fic, do you go to the author’s page? Of course.

Name a common type of fic that you cannot stand. I am pretty easy, i will read anything, but my absolute pet hate is when i read smut/pwp fanfics and the author tries to be so eloquent and fantastical with their language and then used the word “cock” or “cunt”. Just no. Don’t ruin it! Just...find another way! I don’t think i have ever used either of those words in any of my smut fics. lol

Name all the Work in Progress fics that you are currently reading. I’m not actually reading an WIP...got any?

Has a fic ever left you unable to fall asleep or think about anything else? Yes. Remember that Trick of the Light? I recently sat up until 3 am reading it again which was fine, except i had work at 5am :D

Are you good about keeping up when reading Work in Progresses? Yes of course, but i am also the annoying person who notices glaring obvious plot descrepencies and continuity errors.

Name some of your favorite fic recommendations pages. I dont have any!

Name a fanfiction author that you’re scared to talk to because they’re so amazing. So @msgenevieve447 was always my favourite author when i joined the PB fandom. I practically stalked her on LJ and PBF and we never really got to chatting much because I was scared! She had won fanfic awards! And then recently, some wonderful ladies decided to ressurrect Prisonbreakfic.net and i was asked on board as an admin/graphics/fanart/limited coding skills. That’s when, after nearly a decade, i grew a pair and actually starting talking to her! haha! Turns out, we are just normal people doing normal people things with a common interest - go figure! :p

Have you ever written fanfiction or considered it? Pfft...have i ever written fanfic?! Of course! I wrote it before i read it!

Name a fic that has a perfect ending. Everyone’s idea of a perfect ending is different ;)

Name a fic that you wish was longer. Tough one...

Do you read OT3 fics commonly? Have you ever? Of course! However, I have to be in the mood. I’m so possessive of my OTP’s, putting a third wheel in there is sometimes damning for my soul. I have a thing for Michael/Sara/Linc sometimes.

Do you mainly read TV shows, movies, or books? Yeah, just TV shows.

Do you read fanfiction about Anime? Noooooo

If you could imagine the perfect fic, what would it be like? My perfect fic would be AU, but there are so many possible scenarios running through my head i couldn’t pin down just one! They would forever be Michael/Sara though, a happy/non-happy ending (lots of angst!) and a good fight! I love me a good fight!

If you had to introduce someone to fanfiction with a few fics, which would you suggest? Well, i would direct people straight to PBF if they have never seen it before. There are so many great authors around there, and then to AO3, because there are literally thousands and thousands of results for the words “captain swan” :D

Have you ever read a fic containing character death? Yes of course. Character death/suicide isn’t something i shy from. We have all been there and as authors, we can take our characters there too. It’s about how you write it that makes it worth reading.

Do you have an AO3/Fanfiction.net/LiveJournal page? Link it. Prisonbreakfic.net - AO3 - FF

What sites do you typically use to read on? AO3 & PBF but i’ve noticed a lot of good fics on Tumblr!

#Q&A #fanfiction #prison break #ouat #captain swan #michael/sara #otrp

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