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#anyway ah right the whole reason for this post is some joke ramble about how after switching styles i genuinely can't draw faces properly
averlym · 4 years
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i guess it makes sense somehow that burnt ash can be wet
#the thing about bouncing to whatever style excites me is that it’s hard to bounce back#i bounced really hard to try to follow scribs' style and it was hard and now i have like what 15 seconds of a shitty animatic in that style#it isn't even that consistent style-wise because i kept trying to copy it and failing#i didn't learn it before trying to copy it and that made it worse#i spent two days in a row drawing past 2am and then crashed and burned today#uh. when i get tired my effort level and quality also decreases so. not the best idea#i sometimes push myself to draw because that's all that excites me nowadays and i keep doing it to feel happy#but when the end product isn't as good as i want it makes me feel worse#and then i post it because i like posting and like the validation and when stuff gets less notes because not gonna lie it's low-quality#and below my usual standards i don't feel happy and i feel tired#i should take breaks from art i know i should and i need a break but i cANNOT stay away long enough it's like an addiction#my candle burns at both ends it may not last the night but oh my foes oh my friends it makes such a pretty sight#i push myself to keep doing it because it makes me happy and then the whole thing makes me miserable#my breaks never last long and i wish they would- my record for a hiatus has been what- a few days? a week? it's never exceeded two weeks.#then i feel bad because i didn't have the self-discipline to stay away from drawing for fun.#i can't even focus on my actual projects for art or things i promised people i'd draw for them but gods i keep drawing non-stop#drawing irrelevant useless bullshit that won't help me in life and just clogs up people's dashes#i want to be active because being active is fun and interactions with people is nice but also i need to take breaks and study and improve#i haven't figured out how to incorporate practice to improve in my drawing for fun and that's unfortunate. wow i'm swearing a lot here gosh#anyway ah right the whole reason for this post is some joke ramble about how after switching styles i genuinely can't draw faces properly#because the styles all confuse me and nothing i draw comes out quite right and the only thing i like about this doodle is the hair XD#but this turned salty fast and it's kinda sad that this is my first tag ramble in a long while and it's venty. i wish it was cheerier.#i keep thinking about the quality of my art and feeling bad and it sucks. maybe if i put in more time and effort-#maybe my content would be better. maybe maybe maybe maybe. one day i hope that i can do a commission and get something out of it#show that i'm a good enough artist to get paid-#that would be the greatest validation of all. i think. but i don't think my art's at the standard where anyone would spend money for it.#some of my classmates are doing commission work and i get it because their art's gorgeous. and i just do stupid doodles and half-finished#animatics and bad art and lately all my work's been looking like absolute shit#i want to go back through this blog and delete and redraw all my old art to make this whole thing better but no bc it's good documentation#so i guess the only way on is forward. i'm going to force myself to take a break maybe it'll be better soon idk. and that's 30 tags bye
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yeongwvnhi · 3 years
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ᴸᵒᵛᵉ ᴬᵍᵃⁱⁿ
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Pairing - Baekhyun x fem reader -> exes to lovers | Genre - Angst, fluff | warnings - none | taglist - @twancingyunhoe @trashlord-007 @tiddy-boys | synopsis - when Baekhyun and you broke things off a year ago, it felt alright, but you came to the painful realization that nobody could ever replace him or love you like he did | word count - 2.1k | thanks to @tiddy-boys for beta-reading ♡
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It's days like these, rain hitting the window in harsh taps and angry wind blowing, when the nostalgia hits the hardest. After all, you were always one to dwell on the past. It's just what you do. 
Every day felt the same after the two of you broke things off. You don't even remember why exactly you even ended it in the first place. The pain still sits deep, coming to haunt you when you least expect it. 
Rainy days like those just trigger the nostalgia, the memories and bygone feelings. 
It's 12pm when you check your phone, yet you're still laying in bed. The lack of motivation due to this sudden wave of sadness is something you're not experiencing for the first time. 
And it's killing you slowly. These feelings are eating you up from the inside out. 
Without even realizing, tears are running down your cheeks in even, salty streams. 
"Why am I even crying…" You mumble and lift your arm to cover your face, trying to make it stop. "God, I'm so pathetic" 
You try to manage to stop your tears, wrist harshly rubbing your eyes. After a minute or so, you succeed in stopping them. 
instead pick up your phone, unlocking it and opening Instagram. 
One peek won't hurt, right…? 
His name at the top of your searches seems to be mocking you as you hover your finger above it. Should you really do it? What if he found someone new and his profile is filled with couple pictures? Or what if he feels nothing and is glad to be alone? What if, what if, what if…
"Fuck it" you hiss and tap on his username, his profile popping up after a brief second of loading the page. 
He… hasn't posted anything for a few months, his last post being from October last year. 
Oh for fucks sake… is this a good sign or not? It could mean he's been seeing someone new, but it could also mean he's just been living his life like usual. 
So many possibilities, yet no resolution seems to be in sight. 
"This is so annoying, oh my gooood" You groan and smack your head into your pillow, laying sprawled out like a star with an annoyed pout on your face. 
"It's been a god damn year," You grumble, "why do I still feel like this?" 
The sound of your fist hitting the mattress of your bed is dull, not the way you wanted it to sound. "I hate this, UGHH" The frustration in your voice is for sure loud and clear, accentuated well by the 'ugh'. 
This whole situation is stressing you out. "I need a shower.." You mumble, absent-minded, as you fling the covers back and swing your legs over the edge of your bed. 
Despite the gloomy weather, you decided to take a walk outside. The rain still hasn't let up, droplets of it occasionally hitting your face. 
"Why is it so cold today? It's already spring…" You mumble quietly to yourself, eyes strictly trained on the path in front of your feet and head held low. 
You're so lost in your thoughts, you don't see the person headed your way. 
And apparently, the person doesn't seem to notice you as well. So your shoulders collide and you stumble, umbrella falling out of your hand and fast quick steps to regain your balance. 
"I'm so sorry! Are you al-" The man rushes to apologize, but his words get stuck in his throat as he takes in who he just, quite literally, stumbled into. 
Rain has hit you mercilessly, soaking you from head to toe within seconds as you stand there, paralyzed. "Baek…Baekhyun?" 
His eyes are wide and mouth slightly open in shock as he doesn't know what to say or do. 
He hasn't seen or talked to you in at least nine or ten months for sure. What is he even supposed to say? "Yeah… it's- it's surely been a while" he dumbly answers. "Ah! Your umbrella!" Baekhyun rushes to pick it up and hold it over your figure. 
But the damage is already done. 
You're shivering, dripping with water but still you've a tiny smile on your lips at the sight of him. 
You delicately take hold of the handle, fingers gently enclosing around the man's hand. 
He doesn't move to let go, just standing there and staring into your eyes. "I-" 
You cut him off by mistake with a sneeze, the cold creeping in deep. It feels like your bones might freeze, grasp around both Baekhyun's hand and the handle of your umbrella tightening, muscles contracting to desperately stay warm. "S-Sorry for interrupting you" You say, teeth clattering and eyes averting. 
"No no don't worry about it!" He insists, "but we should get you home, your hand is cold as ice, Y/N" 
"Ah… you're right" You nod and he flashes you a warm smile. 
"Do you still live in the same apartment or did you move?" Baekhyun asks, back to being concerned about your wellbeing now. 
"I- I still live in the same place" You reply, your free hand holding onto your jacket for warmth, but in vain. 
"That's too far away, my place is way closer" He objects and gently pulls you along, "come on, let's get you freshened up before you really get sick" 
You only manage an awkward nod and let him lead you along, a surprisingly pleasant silence engulfing you two. 
Baekhyun unlocks the door to his apartment and firstly puts both of your umbrellas away, taking off his wet shoes in the process and you follow along. 
"Come on, I'll show you the bathroom" He says and you tag after him. 
He opens the door, turns on the light and quickly pulls out two towels for you. "You can just use my shampoo, I don't have anything suitable here for you, sor-" 
"Thank you" you break his rambling. "You wouldn't need to do this, so thank you" 
Baekhyun smiles softly, although his eyes tell a different story. "I'll bring you some clothes in a bit, okay?" 
"Mhm" you nod and give him a curt bow before he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 
You waste no time in stepping out of your soaked clothes and into the shower. 
You set the water to a nice warm temperature and rinse off the cold first, feeling relieved. 
Then there's a knock. "Hey Y/N, I'm putting some clothes on top of the washing machine for you now" he announces before opening the door, doing as he said and then leaving just as quickly as he came. 
"Still the considerate guy he always was…" You mumble with a sad smile, old memories coming back to haunt your mind with sweet images of the two of you. Him always knocking before he'd enter a room you would be in to announce himself. 
You loved that about him, he was always mindful of others and you're happy to see it hasn't changed at all. 
You finished quickly and put on the clothes he gave you. Some boxers and a way too big on you, black shirt. You dried your hair as best as you could with the towel he gave you and made sure you don't look like a lion by patting down your hair a bit. 
"Baekhyun?" You timidly call out after opening the door a bit. 
"Yeah?" He replies and you hear his footsteps approach. "What is it?" 
"Uhm- Where to put my wet clothes?" You ask. 
"Oh- Hold on, I'll put them in the washing machine" He says with big eyes and opens the machine for you to put them in. "I'll dry them after they're washed so you can change back, alright?" 
You nod quickly and thank him quietly. He opens the machine and you put your clothes inside, him doing the rest. 
"So, uh-" 
"Do you want some water?" He quickly asks, ears flaring red as he avoids your eyes. 
"Sure" you squeak back and follow him into the kitchen. He gets a glass out of a cupboard and fills it with water before handing it to you. 
You nip at the liquid as Baekhyun leans against the countertop adjacent to you, eyes taking in your figure. 
He missed seeing you in his clothes, you always looked so good in them. He just missed you in general. 
The reason why the two of you broke up a year ago? 
Baekhyun remembers it all too well. 
It was a work related thing actually. The two of you worked in different shifts and barely saw each other, yet alone had time for any couple stuff. 
Free days? Spent alone or arguing about never seeing each other. 
And at one point you had said to just break up. In that moment Baekhyun felt like he was hit by lightning, body stiff and eyes wide. He couldn't believe what he heard. Baekhyun felt anxiety cursing through his veins as his brain processed your words.
You had told him that you wouldn't hate him, but that your situation at that time just didn't allow any dating. The two of you never had hard feelings about the outcome, but it was hard to suddenly go back to being alone. 
And now you're here, in his apartment, wearing his clothes and smelling just like him. He can't believe this is happening. 
"Uhm, so" You speak up after setting the glass down on the other counter behind you. Your hands come up to grab the surface besides your waist and you avoid the man's eyes. 
"Yes?" Baekhyun can't help the hopeful hint in his voice as he urges you to continue your thoughts. 
"How has life been for you?" 
A chuckle escaped his lips at your question, shoulders jumping up and down in the process before he answered. "It's been rather boring but nice, if you get what I mean? I found a different job and work from home now" 
You nod quietly, "I've also found a new job and my shifts are less hectic" 
"Have you… found someone new?" 
You halt at his inquiry, gears in your mind temporarily stopping and he seems to take the lacking answer the wrong way. A frown pulls at his normally friendly and soft expression, making him look grumpy and bothered. "I see" 
"No, no! I- I haven't found anyone!" You quickly say, "I just… I couldn't move on" 
His expression changes to a sad smile, although he's kind of glad you're still somehow his. "Me neither" 
You scoff lightly, a cheeky smirk suddenly on your face. "No wonder, nobody could put up with your annoying ass anyway" 
"Hey!" He exclaims in shock. 
"I'm joking, I'm joking!" You insist, holding your stomach and laughing. "You're bearable most of the time" 
"That doesn't make it any better!" Baekhyun whines and you laugh out loud, hand flying up to cover your mouth. 
"Still the cocky little girl you've always been" He fires back and you snort. 
"Like you're one to talk" You roll your eyes at him and he exhales through his nose. 
His hands grab you by the collar of his shirt you're wearing and unexpectedly pull you into him. You squeal, hands shooting up to brace against his broad chest and you look up to be met by his cocky smile. "You never knew when to stop, no change at all there" he playfully nags. 
"Shut up" You weakly fight back. 
Baekhyun chuckles and you feel the rumble drumming against the palms of your hands. "How come you haven't moved on?" 
You lower your head, hands fumbling with his shirt. "Well… I came to the conclusion that just nobody could replace you. Nobody could love me like you did…" You mumble against his chest and Baekhyun feels a smile creeping up on his face. 
"I felt the same" He whispers back and his arms move to pull you into him more by your waist. 
After hearing that, you look back up at him with big eyes. "Really?" 
He nods and flashes you a bright smile. "Even though we fought a lot and barely had time for each other, I never stopped loving you" 
"Shut up" You almost whimper and move your hands to pull him closer by the back of his neck, lips meeting in the middle. 
Baekhyun's eyes almost fell out of their sockets before he came to his senses. 
One of his hands found its place on the back of your head as he moved his lips against yours with fervor. He greedily breathes you in, not wanting this to end as moves his mouth against yours. 
You shiver when his tongue meets yours and that's when you draw the line… for now. 
He chases after you for a second and you chuckle, dazed eyes meeting yours. "Slow down tiger" you say and peck the corner of his mouth. 
"Okay, okay" He smiles and pulls you in for a hug, "will you let me love you again?" 
"You bet" 
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Check In (Intrulogical)
A/N: Finished this fic relatively quickly! It's a lot shorter than the Roceit one I posted earlier this week but it's still kinda a long fic lol!
Summary: Directly following the events of WTIT, Remus pops into Logan's room for what he claims is a quick chat, but that quickly grows into something more when the two actually get to talking.
Content Warnings: innuendos, swearing, intrusive thoughts, implied NS/FW (but nothing happens, dw), hurt-comfort
Logan had taken shelter in his room the moment Thomas got home from his outing with Nico. The logical side couldn’t stand to be around the other sides at the moment and he needed to sort out what was going on in his head.
The spectacled side took a deep breath and sat at his desk, staring at the wooden tabletop before slamming his fist down on it. “Fuck!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, infinitely thankful for the magic soundproofing around everyone’s rooms. What would the others think if they heard the rational, level headed (yeah right) Logic yelling expletives at random in his room?
He straightened his tie and glasses and got up, summoning a straw dummy labeled “Thomas”. He stood in front of it and glared at the doll, visibly angry, before he began ranting to it. He talked and talked, yelling at the dummy about how angry he was at being constantly ignored and pushed aside and made fun of, and if the familiar 10 notes announcing a certain Creativity’s presence hadn’t gotten his attention, he would have continued.
“My my Logan, you’ve got so much to say and no one to say it to, huh!” The moustached side raised an eyebrow, smirking at the nerd.
“...what do you want, Remus.” Logan’s words were curt, like he was trying to say just little enough to make the Dark Side leave.
“Gosh, I can’t just talk to a friend?-”
“We are not friends.”
“Ouch!” Remus pretended to be injured. “You’re so prickly, like a kinda sexy cactus! What’s up your ass today?”
Logan stopped and consulted his flashcards, hearing Remus snicker at this and trying to ignore the fact that his face was burning slightly. “Um… Ah.” He found the card he was looking for and examined it a little. “Nothing is ‘up my ass’ today, Remus. You know full well why I’m upset.”
“Uh huh, cuz I called you out on your lying ass.” He sounded irritatingly proud of that fact.
“Yes, well, you got what you wanted. Are you just here to rub it in my face?” Logan stared at Remus, though he noticeably avoided direct eye contact with the gremlin of a side.
Remus frowned. “No, actually.”
“Then you’re here to make me… feel… worse, correct?”
“Nope!” The green-sashed monster grinned.
“Then what do you possibly hope to gain from this interaction?” The blue tied Side frowned. Remus wasn’t here to bug him, or to upset him further? What reason, then, did he have to come to Logan’s room?
“It’s like I said earlier, I wanted to talk to you!”
“...what about?”
Remus shrugged. “I dunno! What do you wanna talk about?”
Logan blinked. “...excuse me?”
“Yeah! Let’s hear what you wanna talk about!” The Duke sat down on Logan’s bed and grinned up at him.
“...” The teacher was silent. “...you’re mocking me, aren’t you?”
“Huh?” Remus blinked and raised an eyebrow. “Why would I-?”
“Yes, I figured as much. Remus, I don’t have time for your games and if you’re simply going to make fun of me you can just-”
“Woah! Pump the brakes Lo, who said I was making fun of you?” The green side looked legitimately confused.
Logan crossed his arms. “Remus, statistically speaking, a total of… Zero sides share any of my interests. A total of three sides have shown aversion to or have mocked the things I consider interesting or enj- er, have a vague liking towards. Why should I believe you aren’t here to add to the latter set of data?”
“First of all, because I sat through that whole talk.” Remus joked. Seeing that Logan just rolled his eyes, he continued. “And secondly, because we also have some of the same interests! Your census of mockery only includes J-Anus, Emo Boy, Hop-Pop Patton and my dumbass brother!”
“Really? Then what are some of those shared interests, oh Duke of Imaginary Death?”
“That was terrible, one.” Remus held up his pointer finger. “And two, we both like chemistry, and poisoning, and astronomy-”
“Wait wait wait.” Logan held a hand up to silence Remus for a moment. “You… like astronomy?”
“Sure! What’s more existentially terrifying than imagining going hurtling right into the sun, or a black hole, or-” Remus’s eyes widened as he talked about the possibilities.
“Thank you, Remus.” Logic sighed. “But… why talk with… me?”
“Cuz… I kinda owe it to you? After being a dickhead all day?”
Logan blinked. “You didn’t have a phallus for a head today?-”
“Figure of speech, teach.” Remus explained curtly.
Logan ‘ah’d’ and nodded.
“And anyways… I wanted to apologize.”
That caused Logan to stop. “...you… wanted to apologize… to me?”
“Yeah, it’s weird for me too, but it’s true! I didn’t mean to make you so mad you - figuratively - blew up, I just wanted to prove a point.”
“I appreciate your use of the word figuratively Remus, and… thank you.”
“No problem!” Remus grinned and thought for a second. “So… wanna talk about forensics?”
Logan’s eyes lit up. “Do I ever!-” He stopped. “Ah, uh, I mean… If you’d like to…?”
Remus giggled. “Cute! But you don’t have to hide that, not around me at least!”
“...thank you…” Logan smiled softly and the duke’s heart just about stopped.
“Uh, um… no problem Nerdy Wolverine.” Remus smiled weakly at the cute nerd.
The logical side rolled his eyes and playfully pushed Remus’s shoulder, which brought the moustached side’s attention to just how touch starved he was - a problem for another day, Mus.
“So what d'ya wanna talk about? Black lights, true crime?”
“Both interesting conversations, but… how about another topic you mentioned earlier?” Logan sounded timid, like he was scared Remus would stop listening if he dared to change the subject.
“Oh? What’d you have in mind?” The intrusive thot tilted his head at a sickening 180 degree angle, but that didn’t seem to bother Logan.
“You mentioned being fascinated by astrology as well. Would you like to talk about that?”
“Of course I would, my nerdy Astro-Boy Toy~” Remus laughed at his own nickname, to which Logan rolled his eyes again. “What about space, starlight?”
Logan’s smile grew ever so slightly, thankfully drawing Remus’s attention to that as opposed to his pink cheeks. “Well… let’s talk about constellations. You’re a storyteller of sorts, what’s your favorite constellation origin story?”
“Ooh, how fun!” Remus grinned. “Well, I personally love the story of Aquila, the king who got turned into a golden eagle messenger thing because Zeus got jealous of how much people liked him! You know, he’s the one who brought Zeus his cupbearer, Ganymede? That’s where the Aquarius constellation comes from! He was some Trojan prince, he ended up being the god of homosexual love! Historians think his name was a euphemism, since it’s a combination of the Greek words for ‘gladdening’ and ‘genitals’!”
Logan nodded and watched Remus explain the stories, smiling at how enthusiastically Remus shared the information. Remus noticed this and stopped. “Well, how ‘bout you, teach?”
“Huh?” Logan blinked, being pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Remus’s voice.
“You wanted to talk about constellations! What’s your favorite story?”
“Oh, um… I enjoy the story of Orion, the hunter who killed so many innocent creatures that Gaea sent a large scorpion to kill him and then put both of them in the stars for all eternity.”
“Huh! So that Scorpio constellation…?”
“Yes, that’s its origin story as well.” Logan smiled.
“Funny! I would never have guessed it!” That wasn’t true. Remus knew each and every constellation origin story like the back of his palm. He loved Greek mythology, but the only thing he loved more than that was seeing how Logan’s face lit up when he got to explain it. “Any other stories?”
The teacher blinked and adjusted his glasses. “Oh, um… I also enjoy the Cassiopeia story…”
The duke’s face brightened, eagerly awaiting Logan’s explanation. The spectacled astronomer’s face turned pink when he realized this, not sure what to do with this sort of attention.
“Well, Cassiopeia was a queen in Ancient Greece and she claimed to be the most beautiful thing in creation, which Posideon took personally since he had made what he considered to be the most beautiful creatures, and those were the sea nymphs. So Posideon sent Cetus, this giant sea monster, to torment the town, and he told the citizens that if they wanted him to get rid of the monster, Cassiopeia would have to apologize. She didn’t, so they asked if they could do anything else, and Posideon said if they sacrificed Cassiopeia’s daughter Andromeda to him that Cetus would go away, so the townspeople kidnapped her and brought her down to the pier. Poseidon didn’t like that, of course, since he was really just trying to get Cassiopeia to apologize and didn’t want some poor mortal’s blood on his hands so he let Perseus save her and kill Cetus.
“As punishment for almost letting her daughter die to save her own pride and for insulting the gods, they put her in the sky upside down on a chair to humiliate her for the rest of time.” Logan had gotten pretty excited while he explained the story, grinning widely as he finally finished it.
Remus was silent the entire time, watching how happily Logan told him a story he’d heard a million times before and thinking about how nice it was to be able to hear it from the nerd’s perspective.
Logan, finally remembering Remus was there, coughed softly and adjusted his tie, his smile fading. “Um, apologies, Remus. Thank you for letting me ramble.”
“Lo, you were telling a story! That’d be really dickish for someone to just cut you off during a story, you know?”
“I know, but I still appreciate it.” Logan yawned and Remus realized he looked tired, like the story had exhausted him.
“You wanna take a nap, teach?” The duke frowned and tilted his head.
“I… I have to finish up my work for the day…” The logical side moved his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“...Lo?”
“Yes…?”
“You had a long day. Yes it was cuz I was being a bitch, but still, you need to get some sleep. Or, y’know, I’m gonna be even more of a bitch to deal with!” Threatening intrusive thoughts usually worked to get Janus to go to bed when he refused to sleep, so he figured he’d try the technique out on Logan.
The nerd however simply shook his head and laughed softly. “I don’t think so, Remus. I can… I can handle you…”
“You couldn’t today, could you?” Remus accidentally blurted out before immediately covering his mouth. “Oh my god I didn’t mean that-”
“It’s fine, Remus.” Logan stated, rubbing his eyes. “You’re right. I couldn’t handle you today. But I really do have to finish working on this-”
“I’ll stay with you if you go to bed!” The duke once again blurted out. “Cuz I don’t think you’d wanna stay alone with Orange so close by, y’know? I can stay and like, fend him off!”
Logic blinked at the proposition and squinted. “...you… want to stay with me? Why are you so adamant about me getting proper sleep?”
“Well one, cuz it’s already 10:30 at night, and two, cuz… you know, I don’t wanna end up actually hurting you!”
That further surprised Logan. “You don’t want to end up hurting me? I was under the impression that that’s something you enjoyed.”
“Well…” Remus was hesitant to explain - that tipped Logan into the fact that it was probably something more than that.
“What’s really going on Remus?” The stern side crossed his arms and stared at the Creativity.
“...okay, I don’t wanna be alone tonight!” The duke stomped his foot and crossed his arms, looking away. “My nightmares have been getting worse and Janus is hanging out with Roman and Patton today and Virgil hates my guts so I figured I’d at least try to hang out with the one side that for some reason still tolerates my dumb ass!” He sounded a little hurt, and added, “Or, one that wouldn’t immediately kick me out or hit me with a broom at the mere sight of me.”
Logan blinked. “Nightmares? You suffer from nightmares?”
Remus sighed and tugged on his sash. “Yeah, they suck ass - not in a fun way - but it’s part of the job description, y’know?”
“I don’t. But… does this mean you also suffer from intrusive thoughts?”
“...yeah… They’re kinda the reason I came in here in the first place...”
The logical side sighed. “Remus, you could have told me sooner you just needed company. I’m not the best at keeping up conversation but I could have at least put on a movie for you to refocus on something other than your intrusive thoughts.”
The duke blinked. “You… you’re not gonna just kick me out?”
“Why would I? You’re in need of assistance and I’m going to provide it for you.” Logan got up and rummaged through his DVD stack. “What would you like to watch?”
Remus stretched and looked over. “Whatever ya want, Sub-astute but Super Cute Teacher.”
Both sides flushed red when they realized what Remus had said.
“...interesting nickname, Remus.” Logan gulped, looking down.
“Yeah, uh…” The duke laughed weakly. “Well, I guess that cat’s out of the plastic bag it was choking in, huh?”
“What, that you think I’m cute?” The teacher looked over at the moustached Creativity. “You already called me sexy.”
“Well yeah, but that felt less… sappy, than calling you cute. And anyways, I meant that I was into you. Ooh, do you have Coraline?”
Logan stopped. “...repeat that, please?”
“The Coraline thing?-”
“The thing before the Coraline request.”
“Oh yeah, I like you.” Remus was right to the point, like always. “When I saw you take the shuriken to the face and just keep on moving right along… God, that was an image!” The duke gripped his thigh and shook his head, stopping himself from reaching down his pants.
“And you’re telling me this now… why?” The teacher was still reeling from the initial confession.
“We don’t get to talk one-on-one a lot! Plus, I don’t really like talking about cutesy emotions - that’s Roman’s department, y’know?”
Logan nodded slowly.
“Anyways, I changed my mind on the movie, can you put on Monster House?”
The spectacled side nodded and got the CD for Monster House, putting it in the DVD player and sitting next to the green-sashed side. He should have figured Remus wouldn’t be the type to linger on his feelings, and he was grateful for that at least. He couldn’t handle talking about feelings for long periods, especially not his own, but to have one of the most passionate sides just drop the fact that they liked him and immediately move on from that fact? It was odd. He almost couldn’t believe it.
Remus meanwhile was laying on the bed and watching the movie intently, smiling brightly at the screen before realizing that Logan had gotten into bed next to him. He turned over a little and growled “seductively” at the teacher, who laughed softly at the dark creativity. The sound caused butterflies to erupt in the duke’s stomach, flustering him a little. He smiled back at the logical side before returning his attention to the movie.
Logan meanwhile admired Remus, watching as he talked excitedly about the movie. He found it strangely endearing, how excitable Remus got when he was able to talk about things he found interesting. He didn’t have much time to think about it though, as he found himself falling asleep soon after the thought passed through his head. The astronerd yawned and passed out, sleeping peacefully next to the intrusive side.
The duke didn’t notice until he felt warm arms wrap around him. It startled the hell out of him, but he relaxed after he realized it was simply the sleeping teacher clinging to him. He carefully took Logan’s glasses off and turned off the TV before closing his eyes and falling asleep.
**The next morning**
Logan woke up first the following morning, still a little tired but feeling much better than he did the previous night. Vision blurry, the blind scholar felt around his nightstand for his glasses before realizing he was curled up into another person. He quickly got his specs on and saw the sleeping form of Remus below him, remembering that Remus had asked to stay with him the night before.
He looked at the sleeping creativity, who looked much more peaceful (and admittedly much cuter) asleep than he ever did awake. Still feeling somewhat tired, the Sherlock kinnie looked away and closed his eyes, feeling his face start to burn. When did he start thinking of Remus as “cute”?
Logan didn’t have too much time to dwell on it as he heard Remus start to stir. “Ugh… morning starshine…”
The teacher jumped and sighed. “Oh, good morning Remus. Did you sleep well?”
“Like an asphyxiated baby… you?” Remus groaned and stretched, waking up a bit more.
“I slept well too.” Logan fidgeted with his hands. The dark creativity, sensing the spectacled nerd’s unease, sat up and went to get off the bed. He was somewhat shocked to feel Logan tug on his sleeve. “Stay. I wanted to talk about what you said to me last night.”
“Oh… that.” Remus sighed and sat back on the bed. “What about it?”
“I… I’m not entirely sure what it feels like, but I think I reciprocate your feelings?”
Remus’s expression changed from slight concern to a poorly hidden malicious grin. “Oh? You’re into me?”
“I… think I am.” Logan nodded slightly.
The duke was silent for a moment before bursting into a grating cackle. “Oh- oh my god! Oh my god, you’re gonna kill me nerd!”
The scholarly side tensed up and blinked. “Excuse me?-”
“Are you fucking kidding me?! What kind of goddamn loser are you, to think I - or anyone really - would like you?! Especially after the bullshit you pulled yesterday, like Jesus Christ you’re pathetic!”
Logan’s heart sank as he heard Remus say this. “So you were, what, mocking me?!”
“No shit, Sherlock!” The intrusive side cackled once again before morphing into a huge octopus-human hybrid monster and grabbing the teacher. “You’re so fucking stupid! What on Earth made you think someone like me would like someone like you?! You’re lucky any of the others even talk to you anymore!”
Logan panicked as the tentacles pulled him up to Remus’s razor sharp teeth, about to chomp down on his head, when-
“Lo! Logan, wake up!” The logical side heard Remus’s voice coming from somewhere it should not have been, and Logan woke up with a start. Remus frowned as the teacher practically flung himself away from him.
“Get away from me!” Logan’s voice sounded frantic and panicked, like a cornered animal.
“Woah, woah!” The creativity held his hands up in surrender. “Teach, it’s me!”
The teacher took a few deep breaths and grounded himself, looking around. “...right, right… Apologies, Remus…”
“No problem, Nerdy Wolverine. Now, care to tell me what happened?”
Logan sighed and moved over to Remus, explaining to him his nightmare, tentatively telling the nightmare inducing side that he’d tried professing his mutual love to the other before getting horrendously mocked and belittled.
“Sounds a lot like my Nightmare Nico scenario. Has this happened before?” Remus had managed to ignore his thundering heartbeat and the cheering going on in his head - Logan likes me back!! He could focus on that later. Right now, Logan needed his help.
“No. I don’t normally dream, period, so to get a nightmare is extremely unprecedented.”
“Huh… so, I’m the reason you had the nightmare?”
“That would be the logical conclusion, though I had assumed that your effects would be… muffled, in my room?”
“Maybe it’s a mix of psychological and my effect on you guys? Like you were stressed or anxious about last night so my ability to give people nightmares got amplified?”
Logan nodded. “Interesting hypothesis, and it’s… definitely possible. I apologize for yelling at you earlier.”
Remus shrugged. “Eh, it’s okay, I’ve heard worse.”
The nerd nodded and the two were silent for a moment before Remus sighed and asked what they were both thinking. “So. I like you, and you… apparently like me back? What does that make us?”
Logan hesitated. “I… I’m not sure. What would you like us to be?”
The duke grinned. “How about boyfriends?”
The scholar smiled. “I think I’d like that.”
Remus beamed brighter and moved a bit before stopping. “Can I kiss you?”
Once again mildly surprised by the other’s bluntness, Logan nodded and scooted closer to the dark creativity. Remus quickly pulled the former into a kiss.
Logan was the first to pull away, flushed red and smiling to himself. “I think I could get used to this.”
Remus grinned and took the scholar’s hand. “Me too, Lo. Me too.”
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Text
It’s The Avengers (03x09)
Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)
Season 3 Episode 09: I’m Allergic to Bad Memories
Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline   Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.
Warnings: *shrugs*
Word Count: I am sick. But I am out of stuff to keep my loud mind busy. So here we are. Be grateful to the Gods of k-dramas
MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)
The chirps of concern were a train of ramblings coming in between the nudges little orange furry paws were giving you; smushing your lips, your cheeks, booping your nose. The only time they stopped was when that echo that resulted in your unconsciousness announced a little plan. “How about I be of some help, little one?” Lulu stood up on his hind legs while he and his camera saw a pair of pale hands stroke your head ever so gently, whispering something foreign under a sweet breath. The next second, you stirred, perking up the little furball- who smushed your face and head with an endless amount of rubs with his own. You groaned before a yelp found its way out of your throat as you felt the bump at the back of your head thump with piercing pain. “Ow! Ow ow ow ow.” “Ah,” the soothing voice called out from outside the frame, “you hit your head pretty hard, dear.” The realisation of the stranger came a little late- maybe because of the concussion, maybe because of the angelic voice that seemed to make you feel at ease- and once it did, your eyes widened while your legs moved your body away from… “God?” you gasped in question while Lulu’s camera looked at the aged women smiling down at you with a glow unlike any. “More or less, yes,” the glowing woman in a gold dress chuckled before bringing her hand forward. “Come, let me help you, dear.” You tried catching your breath there. “Wh...who…” The smile on that bewitchingly calm face brought this uncalled ease inside your chest. “I’m Frigga.”
. A shrivelled high-pitched scream eroded the den as Javier stood frozen at the expressions similar to that of a spooked out little child on the face of the head of the universe’s deadliest mafia. “No, please do not hurt my face!! That is my one good asset!!! You always hit me where it hurts the most!!!” Taneleer cried. The camera focused from the ball of luxurious fur whispering on the floor to Loki- who stood there with his arms across his chest. “I didn’t even hit you yet. Quit being such a pain in the a-” “Ssso what! You were thinking of hitting me,” Taneleer huffed while he looked up at Loki, “I could see it in those snake eyes of yours. Like you will bite my-my h-head off!” Loki sighed and rolled his eyes.
Loki: *bags under his eyes* I am…*blinks tiredly* surrounded...by the most idiotic scum of this universe *camera pans across his shoulder to show Taneleer calling his henchman* “As long as they are here, make sure that little Terran is safe. Otherwise, I will cut off your limbs and feed it to the street rodents,” he hisses.
“I cannot believe you just thought of hurting me for that Terran,” Taneleer tsked and jumped in annoyance, “she is getting between our friendship.” “You were never my friend,” Loki delivered the blow with a straight face while the boss felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. “And to think I made little marble figures of us both hanging out in Knowhere,” he whispered with the hurt reflecting in his voice. “Who is she to you anyway?” He pouted. “Who is this creature to have you travelling by her side as if you are...she is...you both...what is she to you?!!” “Just get me my fucking grace,” Loki raised his voice while rolling his eyes, “or I swear to all the power in this universe I will personally make you suffer for frying my brain cells with your utter nonsense. What are you trying to do? Buy time till your rotten brain can figure out how to make up an excuse for your incompetence?” Taneleer’s slouching and sad figure straightened up and raised a finger. “More like, trying to buy time before I really tell you who I sold your grace to.” . “Frigga?” The camera took in the glowing pale face smiling in your direction as it nodded in your direction. Your face, on the other hand, was a mess of confusion, surprise and the worst possible daze just sitting on top of your forehead. “Like...Loki’s mom Frigga?” A sparkle went off in Frigga’s eyes as the already glowing face seemed to shine four times brighter. Her eyes widened and her smile seemingly found a reason to grow wider. That was till some uncertain thought crossed her forehead and her smile twitched and transformed into an unsettling concern. “This is…” Frigga trailed off. “Weird?” you tried helping her. “It’s usually Thor that people know me through.” “Huh...makes sense.” “How...do you know Loki?” “Oh, I’m his friend. Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.” “Ah,” Frigga nodded and mirrored your smile before confusion punched that softness away. “I’m sorry, you are what?!” The Lounge Scott sat on the sofa reading the latest copy of One Piece while the big screen opposite him showed Loki threatening Tivan by his collar. The screen did not seem to take his attention but the figure looking in front of it, going to and fro more times than Scott could count. Actually, Scott stopped counting after six about an hour ago. "Instead of working your legs, it would be better to work that mouth for your friend, don't you think?" Natasha called out from behind the counter, sipping on her kale smoothie. The words stopped Steve short, his whole face a mixture of blushing horror. "W-what." "That's not what she means, you thirsty grandpa!" Scott called his thoughts out without raising his eyes from the latest in Wano arc, "go talk to him." Steve blinked and regained a part of his lost senses, slowly moving towards the dorms. "And kiss him senseless while you're at it," Scott added, stopping the captain midway to give him an irritated glare- one that Natasha was loving.
Natasha: *smirks* I have to say it feels good to have someone else make thirst jokes on Steve too *Camera pans out to show Scott smiling for the lens* Scott: It's me *points to self* she means me. Natasha: I guess there are more coming? Scott: *gushing* you have no idea
The Den “So, if I were to summarise what you just told me, midgardians have no quarrels with Loki, Thanos has been defeated and my son is living with the Avengers now.” Lulu’s camera caught seriousness in Frigga’s brows while you nodded. “And I’m his friend,” you added with a smile before looking at Lulu’s camera.
You: I stressed that for reasons *shrugs nonchalantly*
“Right,” Frigga acknowledged. “So, how is my son? Is he here? My essence is only supposed to be released in his presence or someone he…” Frigga paused and looked back at you, this time with the keen observation that seemed to make you a little uncomfortable. “He is somewhere in the back with the anime-hair guy. They are trying to find a way to get him out of these cuffs my dad made so he couldn’t use magic. Long story. But we got teleported into some galaxy far away and now we are here to help Loki get his powers back so we can go home.” You thought best to blabber than stand there in awkward silence while Loki’s mother was giving you a deep mental once over. “And by we I mean me, Lulu and Javi. We are all friends. Lulu is the little baby we adopted on the way,” you cooed and smiled at the little pile of soft fur purring on receiving scritches from your under his not-so-visible jaw. You looked back up to watch Frigga’s fingers rest on her lips to mask some sort of emotion you were too late to read.
Frigga: This cute little midgardian keeps calling herself Loki’s friend *tilts head* and then tells me they adopted an old beastling’s offspring as their child. *contemplates* So...do marriages not happen on earth lately? Or is this something my son came up with? *raises her brows* no matter the story, *waves her hand* I am not letting him lose this precious one.
“Let’s go meet Loki,” you jumped in controlled excitement taking the first step to lead the way before freezing right there. “Wait,” you interrupted your own buzz with a grim expression, “how do I know you are one of the good ones?” “I beg your pardon, little one?” You sighed, feeling a little heaviness settle in your chest. “How do I know you are not going to hurt him?”
You: Yup *purses lips* reasons *stretches the corners of her mouth in regret*
“Did you just ask me if I was dangerous for my own son?” You could already feel the mother hen judgment even when you didn’t stare into her eyes. “I know,” you sighed, “it’s the space. My nerves are overworked and the only thing I can think of is Loki.” “...” “-’s well being.” Clearing your throat, you nodded at your own words, stealing a glimpse at the camera. “That usually does not happen. I can assure you that.” The surprise at your sheer audacity melted within ten seconds to give place to something soft and glowing; along with something else. You did not expect Frigga to bring forward her hand and cup your cheek with her palm to gaze into your soul while you stood there with disbelief dripping from your skin. “Your hand is so warm,” you commented after flinching a little at her touch, waiting for her to say something. But Frigga took her time, her thumb stroking your cheek while you witnessed the corner of her eyes glistening. “By the Norns, you have been one gentle soul through such wild storms haven’t you, dear,” she whispered, forcing you to grow more confused for a second, “why would someone hurt such a precious soul.” Lulu’s camera moved with Lulu’s body suddenly on alert. He could feel the change in the atmosphere right when the camera caught your crinkled brows release themselves to some invisible realisations that were either too quick- or too heavy- to bring tears to your eyes. All that your face carried was bearings of something that stopped time for you while your tears ran as much as they could; and with them ran your breaths getting shallow by the second till Frigga engulfed you in her warm embrace, her hands soothing your back. “Forgive me, my child,” she whispered, never leaving your cold figure, “forgive me for bringing it all back.” Lulu’s whines and unknown movements from the corridor made Frigga bring herself to face a dazed you. “You are one brave human, my dearest. Trust in yourself. And you are not alone. Take good care of my son till I can see him one last time.” With those words hanging somewhere in the midst of your ears and your brain, she left with a peck on your forehead, dissolving into the same light she was radiating all along.
The Dorms and Their Outer Surroundings The camera zoomed in to focus away from the leaves and into the french window of Bucky’s room where he and Steve sat in their respective love seats five feet apart, trying their best to keep their composure while trying to come up with words. Steve cleared his throat. Bucky moved the bottle of water on the coffee table towards him. “So…” Steve’s throat barely made any noise the first time while Bucky’s red face tried to hide under the shadow of his long unruly hair, “I heard that...ahem...that you…” “I’m gay!” The confession came like a shot of rifle mid-air, taking both Bucky and Steve by surprise. “And that’s o-okay,” Steve stressed, sitting up straight, “it’s okay to love anyone you want.” “So-” Bucky’s fingers wrung each other under the internal pressure to get the words out- “is it...is it okay to love you?” Unknown to them, another camera standing outside in the lawn witnessed an excited Scott perched upon the top of the tree with the headphones on to hear every word they said. And just as the confession came, the poor man caught hold of his chest, muttered, “my heart,” and fell from the branch while his red-headed accomplice waited for more. “Is it okay to love you now?” Steve was on pause, his attention solely taken by Bucky’s words and eyes. “Bucky,” was he was able to get out before standing up, forcing Bucky to mirror him. “I know this may seem out of the blue, Stevie, but I have always...always only had eyes for you. And I know times were different back then, but now I finally have the guts to tell you how I feel and I would completely understand if you don’t-” The words were stopped short right on the lips when Steve took Bucky by the collar and kissed him. “FINALLY!” a victorious cry came from the Black Widow right beside the camera, making the poor thing wobble and fall down lens first onto the ground.
The Weird Den Javier’s camera already caught the shimmer of an orb disappearing from right in front of you as he entered the room but his company was too late to notice any of that golden light that had just illuminated the room. The moment Loki entered the room the camera recorded his senses going off. His eyes ran over every corner of the room, over Lulu rubbing himself on your legs while trying to draw your attention, and then back to your figure standing in the middle with your back to him. “Y/N?” he called out, taking one cautious step at a time. You flinched. That stopped him right in his tracks. “What’s wrong?” Lulu’s camera caught your hands wiping away the tears before turning to face him. That effort was not of much use as both Loki and Taneleer could make out some real tears had been shed. “Nothing. Did you find something for your cuffs?” your nasal voice did not help your case either. Taneleer raised his hands a little as he stepped close to you, bringing forward a dense black fabric. You took without much thought and blew your nose into it, making the boss gag behind you. Loki clearly wanted to ask you about the reason behind those tears but those lines of latent rage in between your brows made him go the other way. “We will have to travel a little further for that, I’m afraid.” You sniffed, finally feeling the air in your nostrils. “Cool. Let’s go,” you muttered nonchalantly and walked out.  Taneleer’s eyes widened and he aggressively gestured his guards to follow you.  Loki’s brows raised themselves in question. “What just happened?” . “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” Javier’s camera caught the grit of your teeth as you sat down in the transportation vehicle that looked like an exoskeleton of a schoolkids’ van. “I said I’m fine,” you pressed with zero emotions in your eyes. “Then why are you crying,” Loki pressed back while casually leaning on the doorframe and watching you with his intense gaze. You scoffed. “Because I’m allergic to you,” you spewed into the air and shifted to face away from him. Taking full offence of that statement, Loki opened his mouth to say something before shutting it back. Tight. “You know I’m still single right?” Tivan whispered from behind the God with a smirk. The latter did not pay much attention to his words. “I’ve taken some of your inventory. Don’t bother getting it back in one piece.” Loki was about to step into the van when Taneleer decided to open his mouth. “She knows you are here.” Loki paused, his hand resting on the frame and his biceps feeling a tug under his dark shirt. “She knows you are out of hiding, Loki. She will come for you. I know you already know that. And she will come for anything-” his gaze shifted from Loki’s beautiful back to yours- “-that stands between her and you.” No words came from the other side except for the tap of a finger on the frame before Loki got inside the van and came to sit next to you. Tivan’s guards were already putting the vehicle in full throttle to fly towards your ship while Loki waited for you to say something. But you were stubborn in your own way, not letting out a peep but turning to watch where exactly Loki is sitting. “Lulu,” he stressed with a note of caution when he did not let Javier secure him in his seat, leading to the fur-boy slump in his seat and sulk till Javier presented him with candy. At the same time, you scooched closer to Loki- still not facing him- and let your fingers feel his overcoat in them. Your eyes still carried the remnants of the tears along with a hidden hurt that you did not want to show anyone. But the high definition cameras everywhere were quick to catch it all; even the slight break of your heartstrings when you felt the fabric of comfort in your fingers move away. It also captured the shock that followed when you felt his arm come and rest behind your neck to prevent the discomfort of the metal rails on the back of your head on this bumpy ride, giving you full access to take the support of his shoulder and arms in that moment. You didn’t even realise when the waterworks came again. “What,” Loki looked at you expressionless, “I’m just resting my arm.” You blinked and took in the snot rising up in your nose. “I’m still allergic to you,” you muttered while resting your head on his shoulder. A smile born for two seconds was seen by no one except the camera.
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your-local-vamp · 3 years
Text
I disappeared off of the face of the earth for a while, but I’m back ya’ll!! I need to get used to the whole writing and then posting it thing haha. Anyway! I’ve had this idea for a really long time, but was very much procrastinating on writing it. Whoops. But here it is! It’s honestly mostly focused on the whole conflict within the vampire’s mind. I like to show different sides of them. My last one was straight up a stalker, but this one is a liiiiiiitle different, you’ll see :)! I need to shut up before I spoil the entire thing out of excitement lol. Oh and also! I finally took it upon myself to research how I can write better, make it easier to read and stuff. So if there are some errors or if anyone has advice for me, please do leave a comment! Also also, I have a habit to listen to badass vibe songs while writing/reading, so if you’re interested in some recommendations, hit me up! Okay that’s really it. Have fun reading!
Again, this story contains some explicit themes (blood, character death, overall just being angsty af) so make sure to check the tags before reading!
—————
Running From Death
I once again find myself drinking in the bar located a few blocks from my apartment. That intoxicated feeling I get after a few glasses is amazing to me. It’s pleasant to feel good for a change.
Being here also allows me to converse with the humans. Which is… Interesting to say the least. Their different personalities, lifestyles, stories. I happen to eavesdrop into conversations from time to time, which results in me hearing the most outrageous stories sometimes. May they be true or not, they interest me.
I try not to attract too much attention to myself, but I fail in doing so most of the time. Blame it on my charismatic vampire looks, I guess. Humans often strike conversations with me, but I’m not one to complain. I like talking to them when I get the opportunity.
The bell attached to the front door rings. A woman enters the bar. “Oh god, it’s her again,” someone in one of the booths behind me sighs. Hmm, must be a regular. I come here embarrassingly often, enough to call myself a regular as well, but I haven’t seen her before. She’s very handsome looking.
My hand covered with a leather glove tightens around the whiskey glass.
“Control yourself, please. You’ve practiced this many times before.”
It repeats in my head over and over again. Unfortunate things usually happen when I’m drunk. It saddens me, because I wish to not hurt anyone. I was a human once too. And I want to remember the memories from back then. Try to do ‘human’ things. But it’s hard, especially with-
“Hey, how are ya doing?” A voice interrupts my intrusive thoughts.
I look up and see the handsome woman sitting on a stool next to me. Her voice is lively and confident. But it’s probably just the liquor talking.
“Just thinking.”
“Abouuuuut?”
Oh god. She’s totally wasted. I now notice that she can barely even sit up straight without falling over. I can’t help but smile at her actions though, it’s almost endearing in a way.
“Just contemplating life, really.”
“I came here to do the exact same thing!” the woman says.
“How so?” I ask, now completely interested in her story.
“Ugh, where do I even start? My shitty boss fired me today. And you know what the most fucked up part about it all is? The fact that I’ve been working there for years! I did so much for his company, but he decides to just fire me, because ‘he’s gotta cut some people down’. So, I came here to drink my sorrows away. Well, I may have already visited two other bars, so I’m kinda far gone already haha.” The woman keeps on rambling, without actually making eye contact with whom she’s talking to. But I happen to listen to every single word.
“Why did he have to cut people off?” I question the woman.
“Pfshh, I don’t even know. Not enough money, I guess. He could’ve fired literally anyone else, but-“ she interrupts her own sentence, while her eyes make contact with the bartender, “-Hey! Can I have uhhhh. Whatever he has?” she finishes, while she absentmindedly points at my own drink.
She seems to have forgotten what she was talking about before, she’s just staring at the bartender until her drink is ready.
“And what’s your excuse for being here?” she asks, while taking a sip of her whiskey.
“Just taking a break from drinking blood and killing people.”
Well, that’s what I should’ve said if I really wanted to be honest. But being honest isn’t my reality. Lying has become my forte over the many years I have been a vampire. I don’t exist in the eyes of humans. And it should stay that way.
“Just taking a break from life.”
Yeah, that should do it.
“I come over here to share my entire life story, and all you’ve got for me is that? Damn.”
Or not.
“My life is really not that interesting,” I quickly add, trying not to blow my cover.
She takes an observing look at me. I have never felt so uncomfortable in my entire existence. She gives me the feeling like she can look right through my lies. “Hahaha, I’m just messin’ with ya. I don’t like to pry into people’s lives like that anyway,” the woman smiles.
Phew, I barely got away with that one. I return a signature smile to her. The one that makes everyone all the more invested in me, it seems.
*a few hours later*
The handsome stranger and I have been talking for hours. I lost track of time a while ago. Talking, or rather listening to her, reminds me of my human days. I used to help my elder neighbors with chores around the house, but ended up listening to them for hours and hours. I knew that when I had finished the chores, there would be a nice hot cup of tea and cookies waiting for me. The elder couple loved to share their stories with me. I know now that most of them were of pure fantasy, but at that time they were something I would so eagerly wait for to hear.
This woman gives me that feeling of nostalgia. The excitement of finally hearing the story I have longed for. It’s odd, since I have only met her a few hours ago. But somehow I feel like I’ve known her for a really long time.
“Nghn, my head hurts…” She snaps me out of my thoughts. “Woah there, don’t fall off that stool now,” I say, while carefully taking a step towards her. “C-Can you take me home?”
I look at her with disbelief.
Did she really just ask me to walk her home?
“U-Uh, I can call a cab for you? Or ask one of your friends to come pick you up maybe? I’m sure that-“
“Please.”
She looks at me with eager eyes. Her intention is really for me to take her home. If only she knew what I really am. I sigh. “Let me go to the toilet first, then I’ll walk you home.” I finally surrender to the human.
The entire way to the toilet I ask myself what I’m getting myself into. I shouldn’t be doing this, I know that all too well. But I can’t just keep hiding my true feelings all the time. I want to live amongst humans. I know that we can coexist. As long as I control myself, everything will be fine.
I sigh, take my gloves off and use the toilet. My head is suddenly throbbing like hell. I can feel that my body is trying to fight the urge to kill every single soul in this bar. Everything spins.
Shit.
“Hey, you ready or not? I feel like puking!” I hear the woman urgently knocking on the door. “Y-Yeah, I’ll be out in a sec!” I shout back.
I quickly finish and go back to the bar. “Let’s go,” we hurriedly exit the bar. She does so, because she needs to get home asap. And I do so, because of obvious reasons.
I can feel that I’m starting to lose control. It was a mistake drinking this much. I’m usually okay with drinking a few glasses, but this woman has a certain effect on me. And it’s not a positive one. Not while I’m drunk, at least.
The woman is currently walking behind me, laughing at her own jokes. All I want right now is to drop her off as fast as I can.
“Ah, shit!” I hear a loud thud.
I look back and see that she is now sitting on the cold concrete.
“What happened?” I ask, clearly concerned.
The woman shakes her head. “I’m so clumsy, I literally just stumbled over my own feet haha.”
God, we’re never going to get anywhere like this. “Oh nooo! My new pants! Ugh, this stuff always happens to me.”
I take a quick look at her leg and notice that the fabric is ripped open. She took a great fall apparently, otherwise that wouldn’t have happened.
“Damn, I’m bleeding too.”
That’s all she had to say to make my eyes turn red and making my fangs expose themselves. I quickly turn around, hoping that she didn’t notice my weird behavior already.
“Are you okay…?” she asks, proving my thoughts wrong. I disregard her question and return it with my own.
“Is it bad?”
I don’t know why I’m asking her that. No matter of how bad it is, the mere smell of her blood is driving me insane. All I can think about is that right at this moment.
“Uhm, no I think that I’m okay.” I can hear that she’s getting up and has started to walk towards me.
“Please, don’t come any closer.” I say this with a serious tone, hoping that she’d cease to move instantly.
“What’s wrong? It’s not even that bad.”
Fuck fuck fuck.
I can’t hold the urge back anymore. I never want to hurt humans, but I also can’t forget of who I have become. I’m a vampire. To stay alive, I need blood. Alcohol has terrible effects on me.
It’s like drinking water with salt in it. You’re drinking, but it worsens your thirst because of the salt. Alcohol only enhances my thirst for blood. I’m learning the consequences of that now.
The woman has come even closer to me. I turn around, only to see a reached out hand with blood on it. I try to fight the dark side of me with everything I have. That side of me gives in, eventually. I resist the urge and grab her wrist, only to warn her to stop.
However, this action suffers a great consequence. The woman looks at me. The white of her eyes turn dark red.
Wait… I look at my hand, having a firm hold on her wrist.
“My gloves!” is all I can utter at this moment.
I have forgotten my gloves in the toilet area. How can I be so stupid… I’m unable to touch any living being with my bare hands. If I do so, it dies. Everything I touch turns into dust. It’s a curse I have carried with me ever since I turned. It has barely posed as a problem the last few years. But I… I touched her without gloves on.
“W-Wait. No. I’m sorry, please!” I beg for my actions to reverse themselves. But what happened cannot be undone.
The woman’s eyebrows furrow and her eyes look back into mine, filled with betrayal. “H-How cou-ld y-ou,” she chokes on her own blood. She is in immense pain, I can tell. I let go of her hand, terrible guilt now washing over me.
She takes a look at her shaking hand, which gets covered with popping veins inch by inch. The sounds coming from her are agonizing. She stumbles backwards, now nearing her end. Tears roll down my cheek, as I carry her.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know my gloves were…” I’m unable to finish my sentence, as my non beating heart breaks seeing her mouth all covered in blood clots.
It’s ironic, really. I was barely able to resist the smell of her blood before, but now even though I’m covered with it, I don’t seem to mind.
Her body shivers uncontrollably, until it stops moving at all. I hold her limp body, watching my tears fall on her veiny cheek.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I keep repeating it, somewhere having a wishful thought that I could go back before all of this happened.
But her body stays unmoving. I scream and I scream, all of my human feelings washing over me now. This shouldn’t have happened. My ignorance allowed this to take place. And I will never forgive myself for it.
I hear sounds of a crowd nearing by. In total panic, I let go of her body and hide in a nearby alleyway. I crouch and hold my hands over my own ears, trying to ignore the screams that are coming from the spot where I just killed a human. The tears are now streaming down, my thoughts racing. What have I done? I should’ve never went to that bar in the first place.
Fuck, I need to get out of here before they find me. I try to leave the guilt there and run from myself as fast as I can. I am a monster. And no matter how hard I cling on to the little humanity I’ve got left, I will always remain one.
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vintage-brass-tc · 3 years
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4/15-16/2021
((THIS IS SO LATE — I blame the incoming exams))
Okay, wow! These two days were PACKED with moments!! I’ll try to give an overall summary of the ones I’m thinking most about. Super hard to pick which ones to write here!! 😳😳
Apologies in advance for the super long post once again! I just get carried away with these things.
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I was assigned to play something for W one morning before school. I was pretty nervous about it, so I decided to arrive thirty minutes before my time slot to give me time to practice.
After I stopped and got my stuff together to go inside, I noticed that a stunning vehicle was moving up to the left of me. It slowly rolled through the rows of other vehicles until it found an open parking space. The car then began to adjust so it could park trunk-first into the open spot.
I looked inside the wonderful car as it was almost done moving backwards, and I could not believe what I saw. Another pair of eyes were already looking at me....and they were W’s.
He seemed to share the same bewildered expression as my own. We stared at each other for two seconds until I forced my head away from his direction. I allowed myself to think.
Just then, I processed how I had arrived the same time W did. I wasn’t sure why, how, or what caused this coincidence, but I was sure that I was going nuts over it. Haha. Maybe the universe was scheming.
I called out to W as he traveled towards the door, asking him when it was okay for me to come in. He replied with a sweet tone and an even sweeter smile. “You can come in whenever you want!!”
I thanked him, got my stuff together, and sped to the (now open) door, all while remaining a good distance away from him.
~~
Flash forward to playing the music for W. It was definitely something, let me tell you that much.
He walked in and shut the door behind him before turning his head around. “Hey R!!” He quickly shot me a wild look. “Are you ready?”
I scoffed at his jubilant attitude— which he mocked for a bit— and then got started after answering some minor questions he asked about the piece.
Having W standing behind me as I played was terrifying. 😂 I could see him clearly through the reflection of my instrument, and it was VERY hard to focus because of this.
He was moving along with the piece and taking it in the whole time. It was like he flowed with the piece, essentially. Whenever I would make a mistake, he would freeze and kind of snap back into reality.
On the subject of messing up, he stopped me quite a bit during random segments of the song to give out extra tips he had. Every time he would do this, he would step up and lean forward to the right of me. My head would be at just about the level of his chest.
This close proximity revealed to me that W’s breath smells sweet, and slightly of mint. <3 Especially when he‘d sing to me.
He sang a lot of my parts when giving feedback, and these examples, perfect or not, demonstrated what he wanted. As much as I really do adore his singing voice, 90% of the time he couldn’t hit ANY of the correct notes.
He said I was making fun of his singing voice because I was laughing so much. Really though, I was only laughing at how close we were, his volume, his expression, his dramatic dynamic range, his notes that were WAY off . . . okay. Maybe I was making fun of him just a little bit.
When we were finished, he stopped abruptly at the door and praised me right before leaving the room. “Great job, R!”
I smiled and quickly said I didn’t mean to make fun of his singing. He stopped slightly and replied, “MMmm suure, it’s fine!” before popping out to continue doing his work.
I love it when he says my name in a positive light. It’s really special to me.
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Instead of helping A as I would usually do earlier in the day, I got to assist W this time. As you have probably guessed, there are quite a few things that happened. Kind of hard to choose what to put here. 😳
I sat down on a chair next to the kids W was teaching to play along with them as an example sound. W seemed to really love having his gaze linger on mine when he signaled the other tubas to play alongside me.
At one point, he repeatedly shot long, focused glances at me when everyone was playing as a group. I met his look with a challenging one, and he seemed hesitant, as if he wanted to say something.
There were slight moments he looked away to cue others in, but most of the time his eyes were on me. I considered setting my instrument down in case he didn’t want me to play, but I pushed the idea to the side.
When we finished the rep, he told me to help someone with one of their stands, as it was falling down. I suppose I knew then why he looked at me, but I couldn’t help but wonder.
Why would he stare so long to ask me something so simple?
Two other memorable things that popped up during this period took place when W began telling his instrument jokes. He told a tuba joke that had a silly punchline making fun of the little notes tubas would stereotypically play.
I laughed pretty loudly at this despite hearing it from him two to three times before, and he gazed at me with a grin. “R’s laughing because she knows it’s true.” “Ye(hehe)ah,” I chuckled a little more and returned his look with additional nods.
Soon afterwards, he began to ramble. He mentioned that the tubas should get used to seeing while notes because this was basically their “whole life”. This ridiculous but true statement made me smile and shake my head to myself.
W THEN MOCKED ME A SECOND TIME. “R’s like—” he mimicked a person laughing, which gradually turned into crying. (His acting was actually on point though, both vocally and expressively.) I began to cackle excessively because of the imitation.
When the end of class arose and the bell rang, I stayed behind to help make sure the students packed up and left on time. Of course, in exchange, this cost me my own time, which, in hindsight, I should have thought more about in the moment.
I left the room to check if the kids in another area needed help for any reason, then came back to retrieve my stuff so I could leave.
Just in time, when I was walking back towards the entrance of the main band room, W was making his way to walk out. Our gazes locked and he stopped in place.
His left arm outstretched to hold one of the doors while his right was curved to pick up the door-stopper. His body was tilted and his legs were slightly bent to reach the bottom of the door.
I slightly lifted my eyelids at him as a greeting, and he looked back at me with curiosity. When I walked closer to him, slowing down about five or so feet away, he lifted his left eyebrow and smirked at me, seemingly amused.
I felt my brows begin to furrow at his teasing look. “Forget something?” He asked me. “Yeah, my stuff…(it’s in there) . . .” I smiled at him as I inched a little closer. “Oh.”
His face lost the smug expression and instead returned to its usual wonder-filled state. It took a few seconds of looking at me before he realized he was blocking the entrance. I mean, I could have used the other door, buuutttt I forgot about that. Whoops.
He scrambled to get up and hold the door open for me. I giggled at his frantic actions and smiled before thanking him sheepishly. After that happened, I walked to get my stuff, then put it on an empty chair in the room.
While I was packing my mouthpiece and stuff into my bag, W had walked back in at some point. He decided to take the spot on the table in front of me.
I turned to him, “Did the bell already ring?” “Yep,” He answered. “Ahh,” I breathed, facing my belongings once again, “I’m going to be late!”
W paused and looked up from the laptop in his hands, to my direction. “Do you need a pass?” He asked kindly, making me smile. “No thank you, I should be fine.”
“Is your teacher strict about tardies?” He continued the small talk inquisitively. “Oh, no, they’re not, don’t worry.” “Okay,” he muttered, sort of relieved(??). “At least, not with me,” I added.
He acknowledged my statement and I stood there for a good few extra seconds while contemplating.
I took my bag, swung it over my shoulder, and moved over to W. He looked extra confused looking up and spotting me again, haha. He was only sitting still, probably unsure of what to do.
“Uh—” “I decided I’m just going to get a pass (tardiness excuse slip) anyway, just in case.” He nodded approvingly at me. “Good choice.”
After setting his laptop down beforehand, he moved with me to a back table and grabbed a yellow sticky note. He then put it on a music stand. I walked him through my teacher’s name, but that’s it. He did everything else on his own..
I thought that it was cool he knew how to spell my name and stuff. I also got to see his messy handwriting, which is always lovely as well.
After he finished, I took hold of the note and thanked him for his help before going off to class, smiling the whole way there.
~~
Lastly, W WOULD NOT stop letting the tubas play throughout the majority of the period. He showered us with compliments since we were sounding really good, and it was just amazing.
I always loved the way W looked at me when I was doing something right. It’s so validating. I love him a lot. ❤️
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Whew! That was fun. Not sure why this took a week, but ah well, hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless!
If I start posting about this week right after I publish this one— which I probably will— don’t worry about it. Just rambling as always. ^^
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bluecoloreddreams · 4 years
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(Disclaimer: this contains spoilers for the Fruits Basket and Fruits Basket: Another manga, as well as taking into consideration tidbits from Takaya’s twitter.) 
So, okay, first of all we have to address the YMMV aspect: Some people don’t like this ship. As long as they’re respectful, I have no beef with that. I’m well aware that some people cannot/choose not to make the distinction between “real life” and “fiction”— I have the luxury of this choice, so some of the “problematic” ships/character aspects within Furuba don’t bother me (for the most part). It’s fiction, and I’m aware of this.  
Again, some people cannot/do not make this distinction, and that’s none of my business because that’s their personal life. I’m aware that people dislike aspects of Akigure, and that’s fine. 
Personally? I’ve been reading Furuba since like, basically the dawn of time. I was reading scans on, like,  MSN groups. I remember a friend at church (of all places) telling me about the Akito reveal because I was behind on updates. It’s literally engrained upon my shipping heart at this point. 
(Headcanons ahoy! Like literally, this is all headcanon/my perspective on the series as a whole. YMMV/YKINMK/Dead Dove, the whole works, if you know you know
YES I wrote it like it’s an actual research paper because I have No Chill At All, please forgive me. It’s long and pretty rambling.) 
Addressing the first elephant in the room: Given my limited interactions with the fandom, my impression of Akigure from a generalized fan POV is that it’s pretty divisive. Every episode she comes up there are “I hate this kid” comments and I cry
Akito is a favorite of mine, and it’s impossible for anime-only’s to make a deep, informed call on her character. On the other hand, a lot of manga-readers dislike her too. 
So, why am I talking about whether or not people like Akito as a character? 
I’m of the opinion that it impacts people’s ability to view her character arc as one that deserves a happy ending. That she doesn’t deserve to have love, happiness, or forgiveness, all of which are given to her when she and Shigure finally end up together on equal footing. (Do I think the way it’s rushed in the original Furuba ending? Yeah, but hey. Sensei had like a huge ensemble cast to wrap ends on. Now there’s Furubana to look to and it’s just chef’s kiss.)
There’s a mental aspect in this, involving the dichotomy between “reality” and “fiction”. 
There is absolutely zero argument that are a lot of things that Akito does that uh, listen, if it was IRL she’d be in jail! Jail for terror baby! Jail for life! 
Fortunately, Fruits Basket is a work of fiction. These characters aren’t real, they’re idealized brushstrokes of human nature created to move a plot and a message along. 
That’s why Akito and Shigure work as a couple and as characters: 
They’re both incredibly deep characters that get passed off as one-dimensional by a lot of people (and the original anime, woof). Some of it is again, because anime-only fans just don’t have the whole story, since Akito’s arc is one that builds gradually until it hits a point where all hell breaks loose, which we are a ways away from. 
So what’s the message that their relationship and characters are supposed to pass on? 
Well, it breaks down into two categories: world building and thematic arcs. The latter is more important and what I’ll be focusing on, while the former is just a little spice that I, personally enjoy, and won’t really talk about in depth. (It’s that the magical realism in Furuba sets up the idea of soulmates, it’s just…. Something I enjoy and it’s really heacanony, so I can’t really justify spending more words on it!) 
When discussing Fruits Baskets in any capacity, I feel like we must first keep in mind the thematic “lessons” of the series: 
There is an inherent loneliness in living as a human being, since loss, grief, and hurt are indelible parts of the human experience, and learning to cope with these feelings in a compassionate manner is a life-long lesson 
People react differently to the loneliness of existence, and their reactions are based upon their personalities, their upbringings, and their own choices 
Everyone is capable of change and learning, if they choose to do so, however: 
Personal agency is taught, but in the vacuum of positive reinforcement, the ability of a person to choose to be compassionate is stifled or outright inaccessible
Therefore, if you are not taught to deal with your grief and existence outside of others, your ability to connect may become warped, manipulative, or abusive, and this is not the fault of the child but instead the parental figure 
Eventually, you will be aware of your actions, and then it is your burden to choose—some people do not take this choice (the head maid, Ren, Kyo’s bio dad, Rin’s parents, Sawa’s mother in Furubana)  
Abuse has long lasting effects on the psyche and can be physical, emotional, and/or mental in nature and must be dealt with in order to grow as a person
“Dealt with” does not mean that it goes away, but that it is acknowledged and given a positive outlet (Yuki’s garden, Aaya’s shop, Rin’s art, Momiji’s violin playing)
Forgiveness is not linear
Forgiving yourself is a long and arduous process, and happens independent of other people’s forgiveness
This is really brought to the forefront in Fruits Basket: Another, when Shiki talks about how his mother interacts with the rest of the Sohma family. It’s shown she’s done what she can to make amends, but recognizes that while she can individually hold relationships with certain family members, as a whole, it's best if she allows them to be away from her. 
This is a whole tangent on its own, but there’s a certain blanket of casual forgiveness given to Akito by the entirety of the shown Zodiac in Furubana, in that they trust that she’s raised a kind and thoughtful son and allow him the grace of his own family. 
Again, in Takaya’s tweets post-series that acknowledges that Akito’s friends with Uo-chan, despite her relationship with Kureno (and it shows a depth of awareness on Kureno’s part that he stays away
People flourish in environments where love and positive reinforcement is given freely, even when people are in the wrong
This doesn’t mean that no one is ever scolded: see Komaki and Kakeru, Kisa and Hiro, Hatori chews out Shigure all the time, but never ceases being his confidant 
So okay, that’s A Lot. But every single character in Furuba follows these themes in their own manner, because the series is about healing and learning how to heal from abuse, neglect, and isolation. Someone’s gonna have to be doing it. Point blank, the end, to tell a story there must be conflict, and boy howdy, there’s a lot of conflict in Furuba. Every personal thematic arc in the series ends up tying into a romantic one, because Furuba is a romcom drama. 
There’s a loop that goes “personal betterment”->”crush”/”friendship”->”conflict”->”personal growth”/”relationship growth” in the series for every character. That’s the bread and butter of Furuba. 
But anyway. To the question: 
I love them because they work, they’re both their own people with their own narrative focuses, motivations, conflicts, and flaws. Both Shigure and Akito are believable in their own right in the context of Furuba, and I think Takaya did wonderfully in crafting a story where their personalities mesh well and give each other reasons to better themselves.
To talk about them together, you have to talk about them separately. 
I’m gonna start with Shigure because, truthfully? 
I just want to lament about how often he’s simply passed off as either comic relief or absolute trash. He’s so underestimated! 
“He’s a joke of a grown man… He is reliable and I trust him.” (Another, v. 3)
He’s incredibly intelligent when it comes to interpersonal relationships, which is why he’s able to do what he does. He’s also incredibly kind—no one made him take in Yuki or Kyo or Tohru. He could have just went “ah, I’d prefer not to” and moved on. But he didn’t, made up some bullshit so Haru would feel like taking in Yuki was a transaction, and let me just tell you, I am the same age as Shigure and if you gave ME three teenagers to be the guardian of?! It would be a full on disaster.
He’s actually incredibly trustworthy (if he wants to be), insightful, and a genuinely good guardian despite his jokes and wisecracking. 
He forced Kyo to go back to school, knowing full well it would be good for him. He lets a whole host of children run rampant through his home. Kids who actually enjoy his presence. He’s shown as having a good familial relationship with Rin (who tries to warp that for her own means), Kisa, Haru, and Momiji. His advice to Tohru is genuine, insightful, and ridiculously helpful. 
Shigure is good with people. He gets up at the crack of dawn to drive Shiki to see Sawa in Furubana. He’s who Mutsuki and Hajime immediately go “holy shit you need to do something about this” to when they find out Shiki’s getting nasty notes about Akito. He’s who Shiki goes to when Sawa fell down the stairs as a child. As much as Shiki and the others make fun of Shigure, he’s obviously someone who’s trustworthy. And that’s not some new development, he’s always been trustworthy in regards to those he loves. No one asked him to show up to Tohru’s teacher conference, he volunteered. Like this dude loves people, he’s the dog spirit after all, and rightly so. 
Does he have his own motivations? Of course! But so does everyone else in Furuba. He’s a complex character, man! 
He laughs and jokes a lot because he’s projecting this image of a laid back, doofus. When you think about who he’s friends with, the whole middling goofball act makes a lot of sense. Just like some of Ayame’s over the top behavior is a defense mechanism, I believe that Shigure casts himself as a generally unappealing man to keep himself safe from advances when he was in school, but also to temper the wildly unequal personalities of his other two friends. He’s the sort of person who would just go “eh, whatever makes it easy”, and that’s just how he is. 
He doesn’t mean the creepy school girl thing, it’s a bit and I think the only people who don’t realize he’s running a bit are Yuki, Kyo, and Tohru who are absolutely too stupid to realize he’s playing them for reactions. He thinks it’s funny. 
Anyway:
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When the older Zodiac had the dream of Shigure, Shigure is the only one who made the active choice to seek out that feeling. His soul was touched, and he decided that he wanted that and only that. This doesn’t necessarily mean he went full Jacob from Breaking Dawn, but it does mean he acknowledged there was a bond, and he wanted it. 
When you get into the technicalities of the curse, it’s mentioned that their Zodiac spirits influence how they interact with Akito, and that going against her can cause physical and emotional pain. Yuki cries when meeting her, and it’s mentioned that that’s just the normal reaction for the Zodiacs. 
It’s hard to say how much of their early interactions are influenced by the curse, but it’s obvious that Shigure has genuine fondness for her. She wasn’t always absolutely broken, as shown in Yuki’s backstory, and was a precocious child, one who sought affection openly. 
Shigure has an indulgent personality, and is shown to love being adored. Guess who loves him! Akito! Guess who wants lots and lots of affection! Akito! 
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Their personalities are very well matched as they get older: They’re both intelligent and coy. They both have fairly sharp tongues when needed, and have no qualms about doing whatever it takes to get what they want. 
Shigure wants Akito to be independent from the curse. He’s made it clear to her he doesn’t want to be her father, he doesn’t want to be her friend, he wants to be her lover. Those are boundaries that Akito’s never been given before, and his frankness with her and his jealousy with Kureno is something she agonizes over, simply because she’s never been given any sort of serious interpersonal boundaries, or repercussions for her actions. He’s always kept himself separate from her, because of those boundaries, even when they were children. 
That’s important. It opens the door to the idea that her actions have consequences, and is a persistent nagging in the back of her mind. 
“Even though you hadn’t realized it, I was waiting for that day.” (ch 101)
For the bulk of the series, the only person who sees Akito as a person separate from the curse, and sees a future where she can grow is Akito. He has an extraordinary amount of patience for her, and forgives her for a lot. 
There are only two incidents that Shigure cannot forgive: Her sleeping with Kureno, and at the very end of the series, I’m of the full opinion that if Akito had pushed Tohru off the cliff, Shigure would have been done with her. Look at that expression, that is the look of someone who is toeing the line of throwing away all his hopes and dreams. If she really had pushed Tohru, I just...... The series would have taken a much darker tone. 
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OKAY that’s enough about our favorite terrible author! (Okay, an aside, Shigure, please share your work ethic, you goof off so much but you’ve published so many things…how…)  
ONTO AKITO! 
“I’ve  finally realized… she hated her own shallowness all this time, from the very start.” // “It’s frightening because you have no choices.” (ch 121) 
A lot of people dislike Akito because she, for the bulk of the manga, is violent, manipulative and just downright unpleasant. And that’s fine, but it’s not the point of her arc or the themes of the manga.  (It is, however, the point of Rin’s: you don’t have to forgive everyone.) 
She’s not the only violent person in the series. If we as readers can forgive Uo-chan and Kyoko, or even Hana-chan for her moment of violence, why can we not extend the same grace to Akito? 
Violence is often shown as a knee-jerk reaction to fear and sadness: Kyoko, Uo, Hana, Kyo, Rin, and Akito all react violently to negative situations and feelings. Even Kisa reacts violently when she’s at her worst, biting both Haru and Tohru when she’s in her tiger form, which is shown to actually cause pain like a real tiger would. (It’s played for laughs, but has anyone been bitten for realsies by a house cat? That hurts! How much more would a house-cat sized tiger hurt!!!) 
Out of all of them, Hanajima and Kisa are the only characters to show immediate remorse, because they have what the others don’t: A positive support system. Once positive role models and support systems are in place, all of the others begin to learn how to react differently and ease out of the knee-jerk reactions that were ingrained in them. 
It’s made explicit in the manga that you have to be taught how to react positively, you have to learn and choose to be good, to be friendly, to love yourself outside of others’ perceptions of yourself. Look at Yuki’s arc. Look at Uo-chan’s. Kyoko’s. 
Yuki sums it up nicely in the last chapter of the manga, where he tells Tohru that she taught the Zodiac how to become human. She allows them to grow into people who can make the choice to be loving, compassionate individuals. 
Just because Akito doesn’t interact positively with Tohru for the bulk of the manga, it doesn’t make it any less true: 
Akito is kept in a juvenile state of being: No one teaches her to suck it up, that the world exists outside of herself, that other people are people and not things. In fact, she’s actively encouraged to act the way she does. She’s incredibly broken, between the maids of the Sohma estate just… allowing her to do whatever the fuck she wants and her absolutely jacked up relationship with Ren and Akira. She has no moral compass at all. No one bothers to teach her that her actions have serious consequences. 
She knows, in a roundabout way that hey, these people don’t like me. There’s a serious mental dissonance between what she latently knows—these are all people with no connection to her other than the bond of the curse. This is why Tohru is able to break through to her at the climax of the manga: 
She knows she’s wrong, but no one has ever told her she’s wrong but understood why she’s doing it. Akito just didn’t have the words to explain herself. What do children do when they cannot communicate? They lash out. Kids will bite, scratch, yell, kick, fall to the floor and have screaming tantrums out of frustration. Eventually, most kids learn that there are other ways to express frustration, and move along. (Not all, though, but most.)
Akito was taught that this is acceptable, allowable, and is her right as god. She is actively broken and kept that way through the neglect of the Sohma family maids, Ren’s abuse, and how Akira framed her role in the Zodiac. 
I can go on and on and on and on why the way Akito was treated for her role in the Zodiac by her parents and the rest of the Sohma estate was just awful. I hate it, it’s terrible, she never had a chance to learn and grow and be the genuinely thoughtful woman we know she grows into. 
She doesn’t force her path of forgiveness onto others and is fully cognizant of what she did, the repercussions of her actions, and lives her entire life after the curse breaks trying to right what she did wrong. 
“Even if she gets hurt, she says she deserves it. She tells me not to let it bother me, but… I’ve always, always loved her so much.” (Another, ch. 13) 
Tohru opens the door for Akito. She extends her hand, offers her friendship despite having seen the absolute worst of Akito. She tells Akito that everyone is lonely, everyone wants bonds, and acknowledges Akito’s worst fears, that Akito herself is selfish and dirty for wanting something assured and unending because she, Tohru, herself is dirty and selfish. Tohru knows what Akito has done, knows she’s injured some of her beloved friends, had plans to lock up Kyo, hurt Hatori. 
Tohru still forgives her. One of Tohru’s striking traits in the manga is that she is suffering, every day, she struggles with the grief of losing her mother and the fear of being alone in the world. Through nothing but her own empathy and realization that loneliness is universal, she’s able to forgive people. She forgives Akito and cares for her, and through Tohru, Akito is introduced to the realization that she’s been wrong and that maybe, she shouldn’t be forgiven. 
Shigure also forgives her, and this is the crux of their ship. 
To me, that itself is wildly important. 
They’ve always circled around each other, and Shigure has always been waiting for Akito to be able to come to him again, in full control of her life and choices. He wants Akito the woman, not Akito the god. 
He’s been waiting for the day Akito can meet him as an equal. Akito wants it too, and has wanted him to turn and see her for a very very long time. But she’s been terrified, the entire time, that when he does see her as herself, Shigure won’t like what he sees, and will leave. She’s aware of what she’s done post-curse, she’s aware of the impacts it will have on the former Zodiac members, and she’s aware that once the “bonds” of god and the animals is gone, there may not be anyone left for her.
Neither of them are under any illusions at the end of the series: Akito knows she has to atone for what she did, Shigure knows she has to learn to grow into a person who can function alone. They both know that there are people who are against them changing the oppressive structure of the Sohma family. 
Neither of them care. There are things that they want, together, and it’s enough. There’s a whole new world for them to explore and learn about. And in Furubana, this is shown to be a lifelong effort on their parts: 
“She said after meeting me, she learned so many things for the first time. She smiled happily as she said it.” (Another, #13) 
To close, I’d like to take a moment to talk about the curse and Shigure, and how he set things in motion. 
Without Shigure, the curse would have devolved on its own, yes, but the circumstances would not have allowed for the freedom the Zodiac had at the end of the manga. It would not have ended with Akito being able to learn and live freely. Allowing Tohru into the Sohma family cracked open a door to compassion and kindness none of them had ever experienced before, because the Sohma family seems to exist in a vacuum of stability and love. 
It wasn’t that Shigure knew instantly that Tohru was kind and loving and thoughtful, if anything, his read on her was “completely normal, albeit strange, teenage girl who obviously has a rough life”. But she was normal, she was from outside the Sohmas, and he knew that was enough. No one in the family was stepping up to change the status quo and how stifling and abusive it was, so he did it himself. 
He did it because he loved Akito. 
Not because he felt bad for himself, or Hatori, or any of the others, but merely because he loved her to the point of manipulation. It backfired in his face, because he got a big ol’ dose of “loving and respecting” juice from Tohru, but he still got the end he wanted. 
What I mean to say is best summarized in  chapter 123: 
“It would be nice to live in a kind world, without any troubles, without any fear, without hurting anybody, without ever being hurt, only doing the right thing. I wish I could reach this kind world by the shortest path possible. … “That’s wrong”, or “that’s stupid”: If it’s someone else’s life it’s so easy to make such irresponsible comments. ...It would be great, but it doesn’t exist. … Little by little, walking one step at a time, is all you can do.” 
We get to experience the roughest part of the path with Akito and Shigure, we got to watch them be terrible people who were lonely and in want of love struggle and learn how to get up and move on. 
They tease each other, Shigure is thoughtful of the distinction between “the person Akito was raised to be” and “the person who Akito is”. He’s seen her at her messiest, and she’s seen him at his most jealous. They still chose each other, despite the hurt they caused each other, and others. They make up for it, reflect, and live a life that demonstrates that they have learned. They have friends who are thoughtful and loving and would not hesitate to drop everything and help them, lend an ear when they’re frustrated, help them not to make the same mistakes. 
And then we get to see them be wonderful, kind, thoughtful, loving parents in Furubana. 
We got to see their adorable, kind, compassionate child be friends with the children of the people Akito hurt, because everyone in the former Zodiac’s family collectively decided “never again, no”. 
Their child adores them. Shiki in Furubana #13 radiates love for Akito and Shigure the same way Mutsuki and Hajime do. 
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They are genuinely good parents, even when they tease Shiki, and I think that is testament for how good they are for each other and how much they’ve changed as adults. 
I think that’s enough of a reason to ship them, don’t you?
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renaxwrites · 4 years
Text
Eleven
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.07 - Night Changes 
synopsis: the number Eleven had always appeared in milestones of your life. it was a constant, and you didn’t know why. but you would soon find out when you study abroad in japan and meet Him.
pairing: tsukishima x fem!reader
warnings: none!
masterlist: here :)
a/n: hello again! it’s been a minute, and I haven’t been posting as much due to spending most of my spare time keeping informed on everything going onion world. it really has been stressful and overwhelming at times, I’ll be honest. however, if ANY of you need anyone to talk to or rant, don’t hesitate to message me! the best thing we can do is support one another as human beings. sorry if this chapter is long btw, lol. hope you enjoy <3 (English will be in bold) (here’s a link to the song in this chapter)
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Moon is lighting up her skin. She's falling, doesn't even know it yet. 
Tsukishima was the most difficult person you’ve ever tried to read. Silent but deadly. It was the things he wouldn’t say that would leave you both curious and afraid all at once. 
Yet you were falling deeper into his schemes. 
You weren’t sure what to make of your short, yet intimate, moment with the boy. And it wasn’t helping that the number Eleven kept conveniently popping up more often, as if trying to send you signs about the situation. Tsukishima, being the wild card that he is, wasn't helping either. However, as time went on, you began to learn to read between the lines of his behavior. 
At home, there would be light brushing on shoulders. Stray hairs being tucked into the back of your ear. The way he can’t seem to look you in the eye when he acknowledges the quality of your photos every so often.
At school, it was just like nothing happened between you two. However, even though he kept up his salty demeanor, the others could tell there was a smidge of a soft spot reserved for you. 
As the trip to Tokyo was getting closer, the team started to kick their practices into high gear. You had decided change your photography time of the boys a bit shorter than normal from then on, so you can help out Yachi and Kiyoko. 
The boys were on their break, and many of them went outside to indulge in some energy drinks being passed out. You sit on the sideline and begin to zone out, not noticing Suga saunter over and plop down next to you. 
“Sounds like something’s troubling you. You alright?”
You turn to see a him offering a curious smile, with a light touch of concern. 
“Sound? Did I say something out loud? Aw man, that’s great,” you sigh, suddenly embarrassed.
Suga shook his head. “No, you didn’t. Thinking can just appear very loud at times. Wanna talk about it?”
You ponder for a quick moment, deciding it was safe to confide in the vice-captain. “Just...boy trouble. Basically the summary.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I can relate to you there,” he tips his head back and sighs. 
You flinch in disbelief. “What? You’re joking, right? And why would you be having trouble? I can’t believe it.”
He laughs. “Me either, sometimes. But yeah...”
There’s a beat of silence before he suggests, “I’ll share if you do. That is, if you’re comfortable. If not, totally understandable.”
“Actually, it would be nice to confide in someone with a different perspective. I mean, I love Yachi, but I don’t want to keep bombarding her with my guy troubles. So, sure,” you admit. 
“Yeah, it’s been a while for me too. So, go ahead.”
You explain the whole spiel with the number Eleven. You were careful when mentioning your family’s background. Although the conversation was light-hearted, you trusted Suga with your past, and were rewarded with comfort as he held your hand in support. He didn’t give you the familiar pity you usually got. Instead, he intently hung onto your every word. From the very beginning with your parents, to the linked pinkies with Tsukishima, Suga nodded along, waiting until you finished to offer his insight. 
Once you were done, you heave a big sigh. “Whew, that was a lot. Sorry for just dumping the whole shebang on you.”
“No need to be sorry, y/n-chan. I’m glad you trusted me. Now, regarding Tsukishima, I definitely can see something’s happening. Not just me, either, the whole team kinda figures he is feeling something about you that he doesn’t with others. But, now that you explained it, it makes perfect sense.” 
He places his hand on his chin in contemplation. “I totally feel how you do with not being able to ‘figure him out’. There are signs that I feel are really special with this guy, but then I overthink it, which then leads me to wonder if it’s simply signs of being nothing more than a friend, ya know?” 
You nod, “Exactly. Do you mind if I ask who it may be that’s leading you in circles?”
He chuckles. “Want to take a guess?”
You tap your lips, trying to recall any details he might have given. “Well, the only people I see you consistently hang out with outside of the club is the other thirds years. Definitely not Asahi. And you’re not pining for Kiyoko-chan like Nishinoya and Tanaka, so I’m assuming it have to be...Daichi?”
Suga playfully shoves his shoves his shoulder against yours. “Well look at you, big ol’ detective, you. Your first try. And yeah, it is.” He sighs. “At least that explains a lot that I’ve mentioned, huh?”
“Yeah. Seems like we’re both in a rut.”
You both laugh, then sit in a comfortable silence for a moment. 
He lights up. “What if...there was a way...to tell them how we felt...but without actually telling them?”
Confused, you look at him with furrowed brows and curious eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Well, next week the whole team and a few players from other schools are all going to get together at this little place downtown, just to have a ‘last hurrah’ before the tournament. Arcade games, karaoke, food bar, all kinds of fun stuff!” he starts to ramble about the place.
Gently cutting him off, you question, “But what exactly does this have to do with ‘confessing our feelings without actually confessing?’” You gesture little air quotes.
He goops your nose. “Did I not mention there was karaoke? Every year there’s a little tradition between everyone of having a karaoke session. Everyone has to sing at least once. Managers don’t have to, but there’s always exceptions!”
“So? Oh wait, don’t tell me...Suga noooo...”
“Suga yes.” he counters, knowing that you both know where this was going. “You and I will be up there together! Confessing without confessing! Is that a great plan or what?”
“Sure, Suga, but I don’t sing,” you try to worm your way out of his plan.
“Oh hush! Not everyone knows how to sing, but everyone knows how to karaoke. And besides, I’ve heard you sing before. You’re awesome! Those vocal chords could give an angel a run for their money.” he gives his blinding smile. 
You flush a deep red. “You’ve...heard me sing before? Where?! When?! HOW?”
He puts his hand up in defense. “It was outside the gym. A few days ago. You and Yachi were singing your favorite Ariana Grande song because you were both loudly trying to decide which album was better.”
You hide your head in your hands. “Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing. Let me just launch myself into the face of the earth real quick.”
“Y/n-chan, you sing beautifully, there’s no need to be embarrassed. Suga takes your hands and makes you look up. “How about this. Today we were going to Ukai’s store to get some meat buns anyway. Let me walk with you and I’ll sing for you. I heard you sing, so you can hear me. We’ll be even that way. Okay?”
You consider it before agreeing. Once you said yes, Suga engulfs you in a hug, which you wholeheartedly reciprocate. 
“Alright, seems like the break is over. See you in a bit, y/n-chan!”
You break the hug just as the team walked back in the gym. A few people saw, but didn’t think much of it. 
The ones who did think of it were the two boys you and Suga just talked about. 
           ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
The whole team was in spirits for the most part. Who wouldn’t be when Coach Ukai was treating them all to meat buns?
Most of the boys were following close to the coach, eager for their treat. Especially the freak-quick duo, who obviously felt like they needed to have a race to the store.
Most players were walking in their respective groups and pairs, but the you and Suga managed to fade to the back of the pack, almost unnoticed. You both decided to slow your pace, to widen the gap a little between you and the others.
“Well, I promised you a song. Which one should I do?” Suga asked. You remember that he heard you sing but don’t remember what song it was that day.
“Sing the one I did when you heard me that day?” you suggest.
He laughs and puts a hand on the back of his neck. “You were singing it in English, so I only understood a couple words...would you translate maybe?”
Suddenly you remember. “Oh! It was ‘Moonlight’ by Ariana. Some of it I could only do in English for some reason.”
Suga let’s out a noise of realization, forming a small ‘o’ with his lips. “I know that one! My classmate showed me that song, it’s really good! But I don’t remember much to be honest.”
Feeling a tad bit braver, you suggest you sing it together, you with what you know in English and him Japanese.
“Good idea! Then we can kinda see what we sound like together. Okay let me hey look up the song on my phone...”
By this point, the team was way ahead, so it was assumed they wouldn’t hear you two. You both designate your respected parts to be organized in the vocals. Once you thought it was safe, the audio starts.
Suga begins the first verse.
“The sun is setting, and your right here by my side...And the movie is playing, but we won’t be watching tonight...”
To say he sang beautifully was an understatement. His voice was velvet, light feather tips tickling your eardrums. The soothing tones of his voice washed all your fear away, giving you the courage to continue with your verse.
“Every look, every touch, make me want to give you my heart. I be crushin’ on you baby, stay right where you are...”
Once you started, he eyes sparkled with wonder. Seeing his reaction be full of awe encouraged you to keep going.
“Cause I never knew, I never knew... You could hold moonlight on your hands, till the night I held you...”
Suga joins in to harmonize as you hold out: “You are my moonlight...Moonlight...”
The song eventually ends. Just in time for you two to arrive at Ukai’s store, where the rest of the team was already chowin down on there snacks.
You and Suga flatter each other with praise, with you even throwing in a pun of how his voice was like ‘suga’.
Your loud compliment-competition caught the eyes of the teammates.
“Well, that’s new,” Daichi states before biting into his meatbun.
The second-years, first-years, and Asahi glance over to the two of you intensely conversate.
“Do you think something’s up?” Asahi suggests.
“I’m not sure. It’s not bad, I’ve just never seen them talk one-on-one, so it’s surprising to see them together like that, that’s all.”
“You don’t think y/n-chan and Suga-senpai...like...like each other. Do you?” innocent and naive Hinata says.
Nishinoya and Tanaka immediately go on defense mode. “Not our precious manager!! She must not be tainted with the sins of men!! We must protect her at all costs!!”
A big sigh is heard, and the boys turn to the culprit, only to find Kiyoko and Yachi look exasperated.
“They’re not into each other. Just because they’re having a conversation about something they’re both passionate about doesn’t immediately assume that they’re into each other,” Kitoko shakes her head, causing them to second-guess their assumptions.
Yachi also shares her piece. “Boys. So gullible.”
“Agreed.”
The two girls turn and head home, leaving the boys to reconsider their assumptions.
“Probably not that big of a deal.” “Yeah she’s right, what’s the harm.” “Eh.”
Tsukishima, although he didn’t offer any comments, only showed his thoughts when you two walked home. Short answers. Slightly colder silence than usual. Bidding you a short “‘Night” before going to bed, instead of his usual “Goodnight y/n”.
You were unsure at his sudden change in behavior, but once you tucked yourself in, you see that Suga sent you a text: “So, are you in on the plan?”
The time on your phone changed to Eleven o’clock.
“Let’s do it.”
Does it ever drive you crazy...Just how fast the night changes?
taglist: @jiminslonglostjams @fantasymirror @shewastheriot @lukes-princess @iamthepenguinwhosearseisonfire @its-bnha-babe @desi-studys @shootooooo @noya-senpai-imagines @animefan7420 @anpancari @tsukkx @cadabby @thoebe-fly @it-was-just-a-ship @imconfusedanditsok @alexa360b34st @delicious-peaches-blog @shinguchi @creammy0 @fandoms-on-main @smellybananaz @keikink @tsukiak4ri @skyguy-peach
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echoeternally · 4 years
Text
Star-Crossed
My gosh, I feel like I’ve been waiting forever to use such a cliché title.
Anyway, hello! Back on my Pokémon nonsense once again!
For our next story, we’re visiting some characters that weren’t quite as focused on in the Melting Gelid Roses story, but I decided to have some fun building their background to make them hurt develop more!
This one tells the story about Flygon and...Garchomp! Yes, I’m actually writing a more popular pairing. Shocking, I know. But the temptation was there.
Oh, and fun note, for my fanfic readers: this will feature that fourth kingdom that I have yet to properly develop! A completely solid idea. And their interests are on topics that I know little to nothing about, so...more fun, of course!
Also, I’m hoping to post this to the Scattered Petals collection as well. Just let me have these plugs.
That’s enough rambling from me. Please click the “read more” for the story below the cut. And enjoy!
... 
... 
Traveling through a cloud of sand, a green dragon drifted across a desert trail. He swirled around as he studied outside of the sandy cloud, studying the shadows of the surroundings. Coming up to a dark pillar, a smile came to his face as he flew upright.
 “Ha, finally! Found it.”
 Whipping his wings out, the dusty cloud dissipated as the dragon blankly stared ahead at a broken down tower. He groaned and covered his eyes, dropping to the ground and kicking at the sand.
 “Not these stupid ruins again!” The green dragon dragged on the red covers against his eyes. “This is the third time I’ve come here!” He slouched and smacked a pebble with his tail. “How did I lose the outpost’s path? I didn’t go that far out!”
 Twisting around, the dragon scanned the surrounding area, but found little past dunes of sand and scattered slabs of ruins and rocks. He groaned as he lifted his head skyward.
 “Yikes. Someone sounds pretty frustrated.”
 Whirling around to face the trail, the green dragon gawked at a shark-like blue dragon that stood before him. They blinked at one another, as the blue dragon’s tail swayed around, while he shifted a package and bag between his arms.
 “Uh…hi?” The green dragon tilted his head, as his wings lifted up. “Who are you?”
 “My name’s Garchomp.” He smirked and lowered his eyes. “Though, you kind of swiped my question away.” Garchomp straightened back up. “What’s your name, and where are you going?”
 “Oh, sorry. I’m Flygon, and, uh…” Flygon lowered his wings as his tail curled around his waist. “Um…I’m lost.”
 “Ah, that explains the frustration.” Garchomp glanced around them, checking at the path’s diverging forks. “There’s…a lot of ways to get lost.” He shrugged and returned his attention to Flygon. “You think they’d add signs or something, but I guess that’s not a priority out this way.”
 “It’s all kinds of embarrassing,” murmured Flygon. “My kind are referred to as ‘desert spirits,’ and yet here I am, getting lost in one.” He sighed as his head drooped. “And it’s even worse because I live nearby, but I just…I can’t seem to navigate myself out here.”
 “Ah, that’s no big deal.” Garchomp smiled. “The only reason that I know where I’m going is because I have to travel these route weekly. Otherwise, it’s a maze of it’s own.”
 “Weekly?” Flygon tilted his head. “Where do you go? Are you some kind of royal guard or something?”
 “What? No way.” Garchomp chuckled. “Then again, I guess I still seem kind of intimidating, so it makes sense to see someone imposing as one.”
 “Sorry, that’s not how I meant it.” Flygon gripped his arm, staring at Garchomp’s claws. “Uh…though, now that you mention it, you do have a point…”
 “Well, I’m not one.”
 “No, I know. Or, now I do.”
 “Since I told you.”
 “Obviously!” Flygon sank down. “Bah. I’m just…what do you do then?”
 “Shopping!” Garchomp held up his package. “I go out for supplies to work with, and I can’t find them in my city, so, I travel out to other places for them.”
 “That makes more sense than what I suggested,” murmured Flygon.
 “Obviously,” echoed Garchomp.
 “Hey, come on!” Flygon sulked. “I don’t know many traveling jobs. Explorers, guards and knights, uh…archeologists…”
 “Merchants, performers, bandits, all kinds of mages looking for knowledge, any noble or royal that has far reaching business, and probably mercenaries,” listed Garchomp. He grinned as Flygon lowered his eyes. “Those were just off the top of my head, by the way.”
 “You know what? I think I’ll go get lost for another few hours,” decided Flygon as he turned away. “Maybe the next traveler I encounter will be less of a jerk.”
 “If you really want to risk it, be my guest!” Garchomp started onward, but then came to a halt. He glanced over his shoulder at Flygon. “…You were just going to follow me back, weren’t you?”
 “Huh?” Flygon smacked the side of his head. “Crap, that was actually a better idea.”
 “Ha, you’re oh-for-two with me,” teased Garchomp.
 “Forget it,” snapped Flygon. “If I just stay out here and waste away, that gets to rest on your conscience, not mine.”
 “That’s…a very poor way to look at it,” determined Garchomp. “You still lose in the end.”
 “But you’ll feel bad, so that’s good enough!”
 “Aw, come on, I was only teasing, and that’s not…” Garchomp hesitated and clamped his mouth shut for a moment to think. “…Well…I mean…”
 “Do you or don’t you have a conscience?”
 “Everyone does!” Garchomp growled but deflated with a sigh. “Fine, fine, I’m sorry.” His tail flopped down on the ground. “I battled a lot when I was young…well, younger, but I’d hate to have anyone die by my claws, directly or not.”
 “Battler huh?”
 “Was,” corrected Garchomp. “I’m not much of one anymore.” He paused as he tapped a claw to his chin. “Well…I do some training to stay sharp, but nothing like I used to.”
 “Sounds kind of like how I used to be,” observed Flygon. “Nowadays I spend more time getting lost in the desert.” He smirked as Garchomp laughed. “I don’t think I’d have the guts to be a knight or bandit or anything like that.”
 “Yeah, that’s the same for me.” Garchomp gently swung his supplies about. “That’s why I do this instead! I like sculpting.”
 “Oh wow, that’s pretty neat!” Flygon tugged on his pack. “Do you have anything that I could buy? I might, if you’ve got good products.”
 “Wait, what?” Garchomp blinked and pulled his head back. “Aren’t you lost? You’d rather just spend money on some sculpture from someone you barely know?”
 “It was a two-fold strategy,” grumbled Flygon. “Buy something nice, and get you chummy to help me back home.”
 “But I’m already agreeing to that because I don’t want you to die out here alone,” reminded Garchomp.
 “…Oh yeah.”
 Dropping his head and wings, Flygon heavily sighed as Garchomp stifled his laughter. He lowered his supplies and tapped Flygon’s shoulder.
 “Don’t worry about it! Even if that is a bit more embarrassing than getting lost,” joked Garchomp. “I do appreciate the support though.”
 “Sure…”
 “Come on, come on, let me help you get back home,” insisted Garchomp, setting along the path. “Going up this way should lead to another fork that will take you either back around this way, or to the next city.” He smiled as Flygon started up behind him. “That’s where I live, Longtao City.”
 “Where you what?”
 “Live?” Garchomp blinked and raised an eyebrow at Flygon. “I…do have a home.”
 “No, it’s just…that’s where I live.”
 “Huh?” Garchomp tilted his head. “You live in the city too?”
 “Yeah! I live along the southern side by the deserts that way, though,” detailed Flygon. “That’s why I get lost out here quicker, because I don’t go out east much.”
 “Ah, that makes a lot more sense!” Garchomp nodded. “Different parts of the city end up not intersecting much. They do mention that it’s big and crowded enough that you’d never meet everyone there.”
 “Right! That’s why I try to leave every now and again, to get some space,” revealed Flygon. “It’s just nicer out under the sky.”
 “That I can’t argue with.” Garchomp smiled as they continued along. “I’m from the northwestern end, near the caves.”
 “So that’s why I’ve never seen you,” realized Flygon. “I almost never go up north either.”
 “And I can’t recall going south specifically, since more markets are out eastward.” Garchomp chuckled. “That’s pretty funny. We would’ve never met if you hadn’t gotten lost out here.”
 “Hey, I thought you weren’t going to make fun of me over that,” complained Flygon.
 “I’m not! It’s just amusing that it took us leaving the city to meet,” pointed out Garchomp. He led Flygon along the right path for the fork, and waved him along.
 “Guess that is pretty funny…”
 “It is! Anyway, we should probably hurry back before it gets too dark out,” advised Garchomp, quickening his pace a bit. “Not that we’ll come across anything we can’t handle, but I heard it was supposed to be chillier than usual tonight, perhaps for the rest of this week’s nights.”
 “Really? That stinks,” mumbled Flygon. “I wanted to come back out later.”
 “To get lost again?”
 “No!” Flygon huffed and folded his arms. “I wanted to go stargazing! That was my whole point for coming out here, to find a good spot.”
 “Is that what you were looking to do?” Garchomp blinked. “Wait, is that what you do for work too?”
 “Oh, no, just a hobby.” Glancing behind him, Flygon sighed. “I’ve just worked various odd jobs to make money. Haven’t stuck with anything.”
 “Hmm.”
 “But, it’s fine,” insisted Flygon, following Garchomp again. “As long as I’m managing and making enough to have time out some nights, that’s good enough.”
 “Do you want to study stars or something?”
 “Astronomy?”
 “Excuse me?”
 “That’s what it’s called.”
 “Ah. Well, sure.” Garchomp tapped his chin with his free claw. “Would there be a way to work toward that?”
 “Maybe, but I’d have to find the right avenues, and this isn’t the most ideal location for stars,” reasoned Flygon. “Sure, we can see a lot, but it’s freezing most nights, so I can’t stay out for long. Plus, it’s not great to stay within the city’s borders either…”
 “I see, I see…”
 “At least it’s still something that I can enjoy,” decided Flygon.
 “That’s true, definitely good to find something that keeps you going.” He pointed down the next path. “Should be a little further along that way.”
 “Wow, that seemed a lot easier than I realized.” Flygon slouched and rubbed his arm. “Um. Thank you for helping me.”
 “Of course!” Garchomp winked to him. “You just had to twist my arm the right way!”
 “Nah, I don’t think so,” determined Flygon. “You would have anyway, wouldn’t you?”
 “Hmm…maybe…”
 “All the same, thank you.”
 “You’re welcome.”
 Ambling along the remainder of the trail, the pair eventually reached a hill overlooking a city with a heavy cluster of dark buildings. The spiral shape gave off a serpentine appearance from above. Several spots divided the city along its outskirts, with caves located above, ruins further out west, while deserts were located elsewhere. The sand further south varied between amber and reddish colors.
 “There we go.” Garchomp pointed ahead, further down the city. “You live in that area, right?”
 “Yep, closer to the south.”
 “Huh, ok then…” Garchomp nodded as they made their way down toward it. “Well, it was nice meeting you!”
 “Likewise, and thank you again.” Flygon blinked and reached for his bag. “Oh, wait, I think I’ve got some money…”
 “What? No, you don’t need to,” insisted Garchomp. “I was happy enough just helping you, honest.”
 “But—”
 “Nope, that’s the end of it.”
 “How do I buy a sculpture from you then?”
 “Wait, you’re still on that?”
 “Sure!”
 “Well, I do have—wait, you’re just trying to pay me anyway.”
 “This will end in you getting money, whether it’s for your guidance or for your products,” persisted Flygon. “Your choice.”
 “Neither.”
 “Come on!”
 “Look, I don’t have anything on hand, so, you’ve got nothing to purchase from me anyway.” Garchomp smirked. “Just take the kindness of a stranger and be happy that it worked out nicely for you.”
 “Ok, fine. I’m following you to your home until you take some kind of payment.”
 “Seriously?”
 “Yes!”
 “There have to be dozens of ways that I can lose you out there,” warned Garchomp.
 “Then you won’t have helped me get home after all,” taunted Flygon. “Your kindness will have been wasted.”
 “My pride can handle it.”
 “But can your heart?”
 “Huh?”
 “It’s a conscience thing again.”
 “Will you quit that?!”
 “Never!”
 “Ugh.” Garchomp sighed and deflated. “There has to be a way to get you to give up.”
 “In your dreams.”
 “Wouldn’t you like to be there?”
 “Pfft.”
 “Hmm.” Garchomp scratched his head as they approached the city’s eastern gates. “Ok, well, how about, uh…tomorrow—”
 “Today or I follow you back.”
 “Damn.”
 “Ha!”
 “But I’ve got to get my materials back…” Garchomp shook his head. “Look, give me your address, and I’ll give you mine. I’m insisting on tomorrow, and then…I don’t know, buy me lunch or dinner?”
 “Are you just going to give me a fake address?” Flygon stuck his tongue out. “I’m not falling for that.”
 “If I do that, you’ll just go harass someone else,” teased Garchomp. He dug a book from his back and swiped out two pages. “Here, I’ve got a pen…somewhere…”
 “Give them here, I’ve got one out already.”
 “Oh, all right.”
 “This…is how you get to my place!” Flygon quickly scribbled his down and slid it into Garchomp’s bag. “Now, what’s yours?”
 “Ok, if you go up north, you have to take left at the temple—”
 “For the sand dragon or the behemoth?”
 “Sand dragon.”
 “Would that be the earth temple or the sand steeple one?” Flygon snapped his fingers. “Oh, or is that one with the freaky giant gargoyle that looks like—?”
 ���Hey, hey, listen for a minute!”
 “Sorry.”
 Laughing a bit, Garchomp detailed the directions for his home, as Flygon jotted them down. They chattered a bit more, as Flygon wandered toward his home and Garchomp followed him there. Blinking as they arrived to a small house, Garchomp glanced back to road behind him.
 “Um…now I have to see which way I go back from here,” he murmured.
 “Aw, are you lost?”
 “Nah, I’ll manage.”
 “Hmph.”
 “Ha, I’ll come back to you,” promised Garchomp. “In fact, now that I’m here, it’ll probably be easier.”
 “You better!”
 “Yeah, yeah, I will.” Garchomp stepped back, still looking to Flygon as he waved off. “Ok, so, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
 “All right.” Flygon waved back. “Thank you again!”
 “Sure!”
 Pivoting back around, Garchomp wandered back along the streets they took, and Flygon watched him until he disappeared around the corner.
 The next day, Flygon waited outside of his home, scanning the streets while trying to sort through the faces that bustled by. He rolled a rock around with his feet while he sat on a stone bench. A round red orangutan pushed a cart along, but slowed as he reached Flygon.
 “Can I interest you in buying anything, Gon?”
 “Huh?” Flygon blinked and shook his head. “Oh, sorry Mister Darmanitan. I’m trying to save up for something else today.”
 “Something else?” Darmanitan’s eyebrows sizzled. “What’s got your eye better than my merchandise?”
 “Food, actually.”
 “You don’t need to eat, you’re plump enough,” weighed Darmanitan.
 “What?!”
 “Relax, so am I!”
 “That doesn’t make it better!” Flygon growled but heaved out to settle. “It’s going to be for myself and someone else.”
 “Ooh, got a date, did ya?” Darmanitan chuckled through his sharp teeth. “Anyone cute?”
 “Are you crazy, you old ape?!” Flygon shook his head. “It’s not a date, it’s just to repay someone that was nice to me.”
 “Right, right, ok,” murmured the unconvinced merchant. He rubbed his chin and studied Flygon. “So…when are they getting here?”
 “Um…hopefully soon.” Flygon batted the rock with his tail. “It was either for lunch or dinner, and now would be a good time for lunch, so…”
 “Didn’t you two agree to a time?”
 “Not exactly…”
 “Ah, so you’re getting stood up.”
 “It’s not a date!” Flygon groaned as he threw his head up. “Don’t you have somewhere to roll that cart to?”
 “Bah. Might as well be on my way, rather than sell to the rudest dragon of the city!”
 “You wish I was the rudest,” mumbled Flygon.
 “Actually, yeah, I do.” Darmanitan sighed as he scratched his back. “At least you listen to this old ape’s gripes and babbling.”
 “Well, you listen to me too,” reasoned Flygon, eyes fixating on passing clouds. “So, anyway, I guess I should apolo—”
 “Oh, oh, hey there Gar!” Darmanitan waved. “You’re a bit far from the north today!”
 Jerking his head down and ahead, Flygon looked ahead as Garchomp approached. He smiled and waved, as he came up to the two.
 “Hello Mister Darmanitan, I am far down here.”
 “Anything you want to buy?” The orangutan dug at his cart. “I’m sure that I’ve got a few gems that could fit a statue or something you’re crafting!”
 “Actually, I’m supposed to be going out to eat.”
 Pulling himself back up from his cart, Darmanitan blinked, shifting his attention between Flygon and Garchomp. His eyes lowered as his grin widened, while Flygon’s face burned.
 “Don’t—”
 “Definitely a cute choice,” quietly teased Darmanitan.
 Swinging his fist and bopping the ape over the head, Flygon strode to Garchomp as Darmanitan fumbled back. Nervously chuckling, Garchomp tapped his claws together.
 “Uh…what was that about?”
 “Nothing.”
 “Didn’t seem like that.”
 “Just shut up and come on.” Flygon marched off. “Good luck with your sales, you crazy old ape!”
 “Rotten dragon!” Darmanitan shook his fist. “You’re lucky I like you, Gon!”
 “Yeah, yeah.”
 “Gar, you fix him up good, will ya?”
 “Um…sure.” Garchomp waved to the merchant. “See you around!”
 “Cheers.”
 Garchomp hurried after Flygon, who wings flapped as he stomped onward. Dust whipped up, as another green dragon coughed and hacked while they passed one another. Chasing after him, Garchomp tugged at Flygon’s arm.
 “Maybe don’t engulf the city in more sand than we already get?”
 Whipping back around, Flygon blinked, as the other dragon coughed and brushed his fangs, wandering down another road while glaring at the two.
 “Hum…good point,” he relented.
 “Also, good afternoon!”
 “Huh? Oh, yeah, hi again.” Flygon settled down and smirked. “I was worried you weren’t going to come.”
 “Told you that I would!” Garchomp smiled. “Were you waiting long for me?”
 “Long enough to have that old grump repeatedly pester me,” grumbled Flygon.
 “Darmanitan can get a bit annoying, but he’s at least nice enough to listen when you need him to.” Garchomp scraped his claws together as his shoulders rose. “But you seem to have a bit different of a relationship with him?”
 “Yeah, a bit.”
 “Ah-huh…”
 “Just pick somewhere you’d like to eat.”
 “Oh, I’ve got a good spot!” Garchomp perked up, but then his shoulders slumped. “Actually, I was wondering about something.”
 “Hm?”
 “Well…do you, um, have any other plans for today?” Garchomp rubbed behind his neck. “Because, uh…I don’t. And, if you’re free, maybe we could do lunch and dinner? And, um, something else besides eating too?”
 “Wait, what?”
 “Only if you’re free!” Garchomp twisted away. “You know, if you’re not, that’s fine, I just, uh…” He glanced back as Flygon blinked at him. “Well…I haven’t really had anyone to spend the day with in a while.” He pointed back down the road. “Mister Darmanitan is about as close as I can get to a friend lately.”
 “Oh gods, you poor thing.”
 “Hush up!”
 “No, that is serious,” insisted Flygon. “He can’t be the best you can do.”
 “How about you?” Garchomp waited as Flygon’s eyes widened and he held his breath. “…He’s the best you’ve got right now too, huh?”
 “What?! No!”
 “Ok, then who?”
 “…Look, I’ve just been busy.”
 “Getting lost in deserts?”
 “Yes.” Flygon huffed. “Besides, I get carried away with work sometimes.”
 “Sure, right.”
 “Hey, that’s actually a valid excuse.” Flygon folded his arms. “What’s yours?”
 “Uh…” Garchomp blushed as his tail flopped to the ground. “So! Are you free?”
 “As it just so happens…yes.”
 “Great!” Garchomp gestured further south. “Why don’t you show me the desert down that way after we eat?”
 “Really?”
 “Yeah! And then maybe we can go watch fire breathers?” Garchomp blinked and shook his head. “No, that sounds dull, and almost anyone can if they can use fire.”
 “We’ll think of something.” Flygon shrugged. “We could go flying or something.”
 “Oh, yeah!” Garchomp waved his arms. “I haven’t gone in ages!”
 “How do you not fly all the time?”
 “It’s just not something that comes to mind,” admitted Garchomp. “Walking just comes a bit more naturally for me. Or digging underground, but that’s different.”
 “Gods, you need company desperately.”
 “Hey! I didn’t make fun of you that much yesterday!”
 “No?” Flygon scratched at his cheek. “Sure felt like it…”
 “You’re just a little evil, you know that?”
 “Maybe I can be,” joked Flygon. “Anyway, come on; now I’m getting really hungry.”
 “Right, let’s go!”
 After finding a spot to eat, Flygon and Garchomp ended up watching fire breathers first before going out to fly through the southern deserts. While flying around, they crashed into one another four times and rolled around the sands, laughing as they fooled around. Their day flew by as they shared a late dinner.
 The next day, Flygon ventured up to the northern end of the city, and after getting lost down several streets, finally found his way to Garchomp’s house. A bit bigger than his own, Flygon marveled at the home for a bit, and then watched Garchomp prepare small sculptures of kings and knights. He showed Flygon the variety that he worked on, including statues, pottery, chests, and mugs. Picking out a small statue of sand dragon god, Flygon argued with Garchomp until he accepted the purchase.
 As the week carried on, Flygon dragged Garchomp to various shops as he collected maps and books on stars, trying to explain the stories that their ancestors would tell through depictions of the stars overhead. Though most of it went over Garchomp’s head, he listened along as Flygon rambled on to detail constellations about bears and serpents. At one store, Garchomp picked up a pamphlet on stargazing locations in kingdoms outside of the Deserts Domain. Later that night, they went out for Flygon to point out the few constellations that he could find in the sky, just outside of the city border.
 Two weeks later, the pair wandered along the market streets, chomping at apples they purchased. Though Flygon had convinced Garchomp to try some sweet flavors, both preferred the sour apples they collected. They slowed as they approached Darmanitan’s market stall, and he struggled to entertain other citizens, who ended up wandering off on him. Groaning, the ape turned as the two dragons ambled over.
 “Well, well, if it isn’t Gar and Gon again.” Darmanitan leaned against his cart while propping his face up with his hands. “It seems like you two go everywhere all the time now. I can’t even figure out where you’ll pop up next around here!”
 “We don’t go everywhere together,” countered Flygon, as he glanced to Garchomp, who puffed out his cheek and looked away. “…Have we been all over already?”
 “Just about!”
 “Wasn’t asking you, old ape.”
 “Bah!”
 “Um…we have been around a bit,” admitted Garchomp. “Actually, have I been taking up too much time for you?”
 “What? No way!”
 “Tell us about your latest job then,” mocked Darmanitan. He grinned as Flygon glanced down and kicked at the ground. “Well…?”
 “Flygon, have I been distracting you?” Garchomp rubbed at his arm.
 “No! It’s fine, really,” insisted Flygon. “Just…uh…” He twisted around to Darmanitan. “Ok, you lousy monkey—”
 “Orangutan!”
 “Whatever.” Flygon folded his arms. “How much would you pay if I helped you out a few days a week?”
 “Are ya joking? I can barely afford for myself!”
 “Crap.”
 “Unless you help me pull in thrice as many customers, then maybe we can work something out!”
 “Three times zero is still zero.”
 “You rotten chubby dragon!”
 “Who are you calling chubby, tubby?!”
 “Guys, guys, come on,” pleaded Garchomp. “Fighting doesn’t solve anything.” Garchomp blinked and studied Darmanitan’s cart. “…Actually…would you be willing to sell some sculptures here?”
 “It took ya this long to think of that?”
 “Apparently.”
 “Don’t bully him! His work will make you rich!”
 “Ha, we’ll see.” Darmanitan lowered his eyes. “Cute how you stick up for him though.”
 Flygon slammed his fist over Darmanitan’s head, and Garchomp sighed as the two broke out into a fight that attracted a bigger crowd than Darmanitan gathered all day.
 Five months later, after making a new batch of sculptures for Darmanitan’s well-established market stand, Garchomp knocked on Flygon’s door. The mystic dragon quickly threw it open, as Garchomp fumbled back.
 “Gar!” Flygon grinned, but then frowned as Garchomp stumbled around. “Are you ok?”
 “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Gon.” He steadied himself and rubbed at the fin on his arm. “How are you doing today?”
 “Not too bad, better seeing you now.”
 “Ha, ah…thanks.”
 “Hey, anytime.” Flygon wandered inside, tugging Garchomp in after him. “Selling your sculptures at Mister Darmanitan’s stand was a great idea! …Even if he is still a pain in the neck…”
 “True, but uh, he makes for a pretty easygoing boss, all things considered.” Garchomp paused as Flygon lowered his eyes. “Look, even if he’s a little, ah, on my back over the supply for the demand, he isn’t that hard on me, or uh, as he probably could be.”
 “…Maybe not…”
 “So, uh, I was hoping we could avoid a little bit of work talk today,” confessed Garchomp. “Since, um…we do that a lot.”
 “Right! It’s our first day off together in ages,” realized Flygon. “…Huh. That’s depressing to think about.” He slouched as his wings lowered. “You’d think that we’d get a lot more time together.” As Garchomp reached forward, Flygon perked up and clasped his hands together. “Oh! I forgot that I made some tea. Want me to get us some cups? I still have that really cute set you made.”
 “Sure, that would be great!”
 After Flygon fetched the tea, the two dragons sat at his dining table; it was smaller than average ones, but quite comfortable for a familiar pair. Both waited as their tea sat, still a bit hot from the pot. Garchomp watched as Flygon gently twisted the cup around, admiring the swirling patterns of the dragon duo design.
 “They almost look like they’re dancing,” observed Flygon as he rotated the cup.
 “Yep, that was what I was going for, sky dancing,” elucidated Garchomp. He tapped at the table, lightly tracing a circle in the air just above it. “So…what did you get to see last night?”
 “Oh.” Flygon sank down. “I, uh, didn’t.”
 “Huh?”
 “Well, folks at the restaurant around the southeast end got a real fire going,” explained Flygon. “Several houses decided last night was good for staying out late by their fires in the southwest side. And near here, well, the taller buildings near the gates kind of get in the way of the view.” Flygon sighed. “I didn’t really have enough time to go to the other parts of the city, but it didn’t make a difference by the east gate last week, or the west before that, so I figured it wasn’t a big loss in the end.”
 “That…sucks, actually.”
 “Being in the city is really annoying sometimes,” brought up Flygon. “It feels like there’s never a clear night to watch the sky…”
 “About that, actually.” Garchomp tapped on his chin. “I was wondering, if you’re really that passionate about your stargazing—”
 “Astronomy,” corrected Flygon.
 “Right, right, whatever you call it,” teased Garchomp. “Anyway, there are probably better locations if you go up north more, towards the Mountains Monarchy.” He waited as Flygon listened, and then carried on. “There are still a bunch of cities and probably more activity in a lot of places up there, but I…may have heard about a few spacious places to live. Dimmer lighting, lots of sky to view, stuff that’s up your alley.”
 “Really? You found out about that for me?” Flygon beamed as Garchomp nodded. “That’s great!” Flygon hopped up for a moment, but sank back down. “But…I can’t.”
 “Huh?” Garchomp blinked. “Why not?”
 “Can you even imagine me alone in the mountains?” Flygon shook his head. “I get lost easily enough in the deserts as it is! If I go out there, I’ll never find my way around.” He curled his tail around himself. “Besides, living alone just…sounds really hard.”
 “Well, that’s…kind of why I was thinking about going with you,” suggested Garchomp.
 “Wait, what?”
 “There are a lot of rocks and other materials to work with sculpting in the mountains,” divulged Garchomp. “Sand and the stones down here can only offer so much. They’ve probably got gemstones up by them, along with other kinds of marble and clay, more metals, wood, and even ice if I’m crazy enough.” Flygon shuddered and Garchomp chuckled. “Yeah, maybe not that one too much. But, it’s an idea. You can go up to map stars, and I get more material to work with. And…we could, um, live togther.” He softly smiled. “So…does that sound like a good plan?”
 “Actually, yeah! It does!” Flygon zipped over and gave Garchomp a tight hug. He smirked as he pulled back a bit. “It does kind of sound like you’re making an excuse so that I don’t go alone or because you want company to move away with.”
 “Not entirely…wrong,” caved Garchomp, pushing up from his seat.
 “Uh-huh.” Flygon giggled and embraced Garchomp again. “But still, it is a great idea, and I’d be happy to go with you. So, thank you.”
 Blushing as he slowly hugged Flygon back, Garchomp nervously chuckled and gently patted Flygon, muttering a low, “You’re welcome…”
 “Oh, and obviously, let’s do it!” Flygon tugged back as Garchomp blankly stared at him, his mouth parting open a bit. “…Moving, that is. Let’s…do it, move.” Flygon shrugged and pulled away, twisting away to hide his flushed face. “Um. I’m going to go see what I should pack!”
 For a moment, Garchomp mindlessly nodded with a smile stuck on his face. He blinked hard and shook his head. “Shouldn’t we see what we can afford first?”
 “…Oh yeah, that would be important.”
 After a year, the two dragons finally saved enough to move off to the Mountains Monarchy. Neither had many reservations about leaving home, but when it came to breaking the news to Darmanitan…
 “What do you mean you’re both leaving?!”
 “It’s so that Flygon will be able to get a better view,” reasoned Garchomp. “That’ll allow him to better follow his passion in astronomy.”
 “Astro-what?”
 “Studying stars and relations,” simplified Flygon.
 “And why would you want to do that?!”
 “Because it’s just something that I’ve enjoyed researching for years,” defended Flygon. “There are so many stories that we tell using the stars, and there’s so much that we don’t know about them, or comets, or the cosmic events and anomalies—”
 “What in the hell are you even talking about?!”
 “The one thing that really livens me up in life’s offerings.” Flygon folded his arms. “That keeps me going when I ask myself about the more that I want to do in life. You had other dreams that you wanted to follow, didn’t you?”
 “Yeah, but I settled with this!” Darmanitan gestured to his cart, but when he turned and glared at it, he sank down. “And…this wasn’t even close to what I wanted…”
 “…So…?”
 “Not like I can actually stop either of you from leaving,” admitted Darmanitan. “It’s just going to horrid going back to square one.”
 “Come on, you’ve got more products and business with help from the outreach we helped you provide,” countered Flygon. “You got to go around more to grab customer attention while I watched your stall, and nowadays you don’t need me to do that for you anymore.”
 “Plus, I’m leaving you with some solid sculptures to sell,” piped up Garchomp.
 “But you’re taking the skill away with you!” Darmanitan sank down. “What do I do when I run out?”
 “You’ll have to order more from Garchomp and be patient until they’re sent to you,” suggested Flygon. “So you can still do business with us, but it’ll just have waiting time included.”
 “That’s a horrible trade-off.”
 “Hate it and us all you want for it, but that’s how it goes,” concluded Flygon.
 “…As much as I could hate you, I suppose I don’t.” Darmanitan laughed. “Even if we got on each other’s nerves all the time, I think I actually got used to you more than I did before.” He smiled at the two dragons. “You two take care of each other, and come back to visit some day before I’m too old.”
 “Of course we will,” promised Garchomp. “…It might be a while, but we will eventually.”
 “Don’t miss us until then,” mocked Flygon.
 “I think I do already.”
 “Hey, don’t tell us that,” complained Flygon, tears lining his eyes. “You’re only going to make it harder!”
 “Ha, sorry.” Darmanitan folded his arms. “Go on, we’re done for today, so, be off, both of you.” He smiled. “And take care.”
 Glancing at one another, Garchomp and Flygon nodded, and swept down to hug Darmanitan before they left.
 Two months later, on a mountain ridge overlooking a lake, Flygon tugged Garchomp from their home to go look at the night sky. He beamed as they found an opening between trees, pulling the blue dragon closer to him. Flygon took his arm and helped him trace the stars above.
 “See, right there, that’s what they use for the third month symbol, which traces out to shape like Alomomola,” pointed out Flygon. “But, now that we’re out here, we can find the harder to spot shapes, so the ones nearest to that would be—”
 “The two Luvdisc?”
 “Yes!” Flygon whirled around as he wrapped Garchomp’s arm into his. “Oh, you remembered!”
 “Ha, uh, that story was kind of cute…their legend, anyway.” Garchomp blushed as his tail swatted a pebble. “Not that it’s a big deal or anything, just some lover story romance thing. And…” He trailed off as he looked to Flygon, who smirked at him. “Uh…I’m still talking.”
 “I noticed.”
 “Please stop me.”
 “No.”
 “Ugh.”
 “Ok, fine,” relented Flygon. “If you look over this way, you’ll see two swirling shapes from the stars, and for the longest time, people argued over which legendary dragon duo they represented.” He blinked and rubbed his cheek. “Actually, I think they still do.”
 “Folks arguing over their gods and which is the best among them,” murmured Garchomp. “Always fun…”
 “For all we know, it could be any pair of dragons,” assessed Flygon. “It could be a storied duo, or it could be a simple pairing between even—”
 “You and me?”
 “…Sure, actually.”
 “Hmm…” Garchomp tapped at his chin, and nodded. “I think that’ll help me remember that one a little more for next time.” He grinned and winked to Flygon, who hesitated as he smiled to him. Blinking, Garchomp tilted his head. “Look, it helps me a bit better, ok?”
 “That’s fine, I just…” Flygon tapped his fingers together. “I need to tell you something. Or, uh, better express something to you.”
 “What is it?”
 They both quieted as they turned to face one another, as the night air gently rustled a few bushes, but nothing more. Flygon’s hand quaked as he stroked back against his face, rubbing his neck a bit. Garchomp’s tail swayed a bit, his attention trained on his partner.
 “Thank you again for helping us get here.”
 “Hey, you helped too!”
 “But it was your idea,” reminded Flygon. “And, I…I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy, or not in ages. So, again, thank you.”
 Leaning forward, Flygon pressed his lips against Garchomp. He jolted but quickly moved into the kiss. It lasted a moment longer, but Flygon pulled back and covered his mouth.
 “Sorry! Sorry, that was…” Flygon nervously chuckled and sank away from Garchomp. “I have no idea why I did that, and I didn’t even ask, that was so wrong—”
 “Actually, it was completely fine,” insisted Garchomp. His eyes lowered as he smirked. “More than fine for me.”
 “Uh, yeah, but I…um…” Flygon shifted his eyes around back and forth to the mountainside, and he quickly spun away. “Well, this air’s been refreshing, but it’s late, so now’s probably a good time to head back! Ha, uh, let’s go before it gets too cold!”
 As Flygon marched off, Garchomp paused for a moment and gazed at the ground. He lifted his head and studied the stars in the sky above.
 “Should we…not share the bed tonight?”
 “No, no, we can definitely do that still,” insisted Flygon. “Especially because we only have the one, and, uh…I like cuddling into you.” His wings lifted out and Flygon smacked his head, while Garchomp returned his attention to his blushing companion. “I have no idea why I even mentioned that. Come on!”
 Grinning as his face flushed over, Garchomp followed after Flygon, closing the distance between them as quickly as he could.
 The next morning, Garchomp picked at an amethyst, cutting it into smaller and rounder shapes. He sighed as he carefully placed two into a miniature dragon sculpture, giving the statue shimmering eyes. He glanced at the teacups that sat between him and Flygon, who drummed at a star map he had recently sketched.
 Turning the statue around, Garchomp waved his claw before it. Flygon kept his attention on his map, until Garchomp cleared his throat. Picking his head up, Flygon blinked as Garchomp smiled and gestured again to his new creation.
 “Pretty cute,” noted Flygon. “Did you make the other one of the queen yet?”
 “Already did that one,” confirmed Garchomp. “Hopefully I’ll get orders for her regal likeness, and then buyers will line up for commissions and products!” He paused and blinked before lowering his brow as he glowered back down to his statue. “Is it too cute? I was aiming for something cooler this time…”
 “Even still, we’re going to run out of money unless we’re both chipping in,” brought up Flygon. “I’m going to get a new job in a few days.” He gazed down at his sketch. “Hopefully doing something that I really love, if they’ll have me…”
 “They’d be crazy not to,” determined Garchomp, and he beamed to Flygon. “No one matches your energy for astronomy. Not in the deserts, and not on the mountains.”
 “I don’t know about that,” doubted Flygon. “Pretty sure I’ve got some competition up here, especially since folks here actually have the space to see the sky.”
 “You’ll be fine, and I’ll help you find something when you’re ready to head out,” he promised. “But, for now, I’m going to go get some more supplies.” Garchomp got up and grabbed his bag. He paused and turned back to Flygon. “Then maybe later, um, we can talk more about us?”
 “What do you mean?”
 “Well, I, uh, wanted to figure out what we are.”
 “Roommates?”
 “Besides that, because I…” Garchomp hesitated and shook his head. “Nah, we’ll talk about it later tonight.”
 “Was I too weird last night?” Flygon gripped at the table. “I know that under the stars I was bad, and then after when we were in bed—”
 “No, no, that’s not it at all,” insisted Garchomp. “Actually, yesterday was fantastic.” He blushed and slung his bag around his shoulder. “But, um…I’m hoping we can talk it out more.” He smiled to Flygon. “It’ll be a good talk, I’m pretty sure. But, that’s for later, and it’ll be fine.” He glanced back to the door behind him, and then returned his gaze to Flygon. “Um…unless you want to get started now?”
 “Hmm…no, you’re going to want to get out there, before they’re done digging and selling for the day,” realized Flygon. “I can’t keep you forever.”
 “Sure you can.”
 “Gar, go on.” Flygon stuck out his tongue. “I’ve got nowhere to go today, so I’ll be waiting until you’re back. No need to worry about me getting lost out there.”
 “Fine, ok, I’ll pretend I’m not excited or anything,” relented Garchomp. His toothy grin took over again. “Even if that’s impossible.” He nervously chuckled as he backed up and bumped into the door. “Uh! Right, that’s…there. Anyway!” He pushed it open and paused, turning back to Flygon once more. “…I’ll see you tonight, Gon.”
 “See you later.”
 They waved to one another as Garchomp slowly stepped outside of their home, and lingered as he closed the door, looking as Flygon waved and watched him until the door was shut and he was gone.
 Neither realized how long later would be.
...
...
Aw, wasn’t that so sweet?
For readers that are new, you’re blessed and know nothing of the pain behind that last line. For those who are up-to-date on the fanfic, ohoho...you must have read between the lines a couple of times, eh?
But anyway, yeah! That’s a cute one-shot that works for quasi-canon building on Flygon’s relationship with Garchomp, which is almost a relationship, but they just never quite got around to bringing it forward. Reminds you of another couple, perhaps? I’m sure you know the one.
Also, I don’t think I was using a Darmanitan for the fanfics before, so, now I have one that I got to use. Didn’t really bother thinking out the Zen Mode part, but, I think he was a cute option. Annnd he’s how they got their nicknames for each other. Everyone go “aww” for a second.
Well, they’re not the main characters of the fanfic, but if you’re curious to see their roles and impacts on the rest, their main story is Melting Gelid Roses, a medieval Pokémon fanfic. (It actually stars Chesnaught and Greninja!)
If you already are reading it but haven’t read supplementary material, please feel free to read the other one-shots, which you can find on Tumblr, but it’s easier with the Scattered Petals collection instead.
That’s all for now. Working on some events concerning the finale for MGR and the future of the story going forward, so, stay tuned for that too!
Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed it. Take care!
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dredshirtroberts · 4 years
Text
Hooooo boy we are feelin some EMOTIONS today, folks.
this is not a happy post, if you’d like to skip I entirely understand, and in fact encourage doing so.
I’ve been needing to do a one of these for a lil bit because I’ve got Thoughts and Feelings and they are complicated and I can’t accurately parse them in my head so we’re gonna air it out on Tumblr like a sheet on the line during laundry day.
here’s the thing.
I got some complicated family feelings in my chest places and it fucking *sucks*.
I was kept from spending time with my family by various means over the past several years to the point where I wasn’t attending holidays - which, in my family, is just not done. You can skip a holiday but you have to make it up on another occasion and I...wasn’t doing that anymore. Two separate people had me convinced I was not loved by my family, that they did not care for or appreciate me like *they* could and that I was better off not being around my family.
And maybe they had some valid points. Which I hate admitting because they used a lot of “valid points” to get me to be completely isolated in life without anyone but them and any time I branched out I was, for lack of a better term, “punished” for having denied them my attention or time or whatever. (this is of course not as nuanced a take on it as I would prefer but this is already going to be long without me going through the whole...everything, again. You can search the captain rambles and life post tags on my blog for more on this topic).
Anyway...so I’m no longer with people who are actively trying to keep me from talking to other people/being around people who are supportive of my own efforts and goals, etc. And I was welcomed back into my family with open arms and that was...honestly unexpected. After everything I’d had told to me about how they were and how they should be and what I should feel about them...I wasn’t expecting them to love me.
I rode that rose-colored wave for a *while*. But as the world descends into chaos and I learn more things about myself that make me feel more like *me* than I have...possibly ever now that I try and think about it, I am seeing things that I had hoped had been exaggerated or made up by those in my life who had hurt me.
My parents raised me in a very right-wing conservative household. The evangelical style of christianity didn’t come until I was already an adult but the building blocks must have been there or it wouldn’t have happened so...extremely when it finally did. There were a lot of...really shitty attitudes towards other people that I didn’t recognize growing up in it - I didn’t recognize it until a lot later, in fact.
They’re...They don’t see anything wrong with the way they are. Which, you know, *sucks*. 
There’s going to be a lot of dismissive phrases littered throughout this because I’m trying to be...i don’t know. I do it as a thing to lighten the mental load on myself - dismissiveness and joking around, exaggerating for effect, etc. - which i know might come off weird but like...this is really fucking bothering me guys and I...I’m doing my best.
Cause here’s the thing. I was raised believing the world was one way and that we were *right* about things. We had the answers and anyone (liberals) who didn’t agree with us were wrong and would either see the light and come to our side or were too stupid to know how wrong they were so we wouldn’t have associated with them anyway. (reasons why i’m currently frustrated with the political opposition to Republicans/Conservatives/The Right #1 actually)
And then I grew up and I saw the world was not that way. And I expected that my family would be able to see the world with the insight I had gained, and..they just...don’t.
I’ve excused a lot of their shit beliefs recently. not like, trying to defend them to anyone or anything but I don’t confront them. Mostly because I know while they won’t say it to my face, I know how they think about people who think like me (because I was there for those conversations, I was there and I thought like them and now i don’t and that makes me one of those idiots they talked about, a stupid person who can’t see the truth they believe so fully that they think is backed up by facts and figures but their facts and figures are *flawed* - mine aren’t better but I can acknowledge that and extrapolating data from all the things and coming to a conclusion is what I was taught to do but now that I do it for the wrong side what must they think of me? What must they say behind my back?)
I have...a lot of kinda fucked up shit about my family. Nothing overt, nothing that immediately screams to me “Hey fuck-o, this shit isn’t a universal experience and something is wrong here!” but it’ll be small things that I’m like “Ah, okay. Not everyone had this experience and those that did are currently working through the *trauma* of it by going to *therapy*. Hm.”
I’ve done some work in that respect and that’s good. Doesn’t make my issues go away but makes it so I can handle them a little better. Most of the time anyway.
I’m trying to make several things that are true but contradictory work together in my brain and it’s not going well.
1) my family cares about me and wants me to do well.
2) my family has hurt me in the past and is currently hurting me (though not intentionally and not maliciously - please dear god let it be unintentional and non-malicious). 
3) My family does not “agree” with LGBTetc people.
4) My family do not believe that there are systemic issues inherent in the government we live in/under and the society we must participate in (Because it benefits them, and they have not had to challenge their thoughts on this before).
5) My family are kind of racist.
6) My family was my only support system when I was leaving an abusive situation.
7) ...My family might have abused me a little.
I go back and forth on point seven a *lot*. See point 2 about the intentionality/maliciousness factors. If they didn’t mean to do it, does it still count? 
Does it matter if it still hurts?
My sister outright told me that she doesn’t agree with trans people (meaning she doesn’t believe you can be trans, really). But I’m okay because it’s me, and now I can be her gay best friend when we’re drinking at family stuff.
She didn’t understand why I was hurt by that. I attempted to explain it and she got defensive and angry so I just...didn’t fight about it. Just played the part. I’m her brother when it benefits her but otherwise I’m still her sister. I’m still mom and dad’s daughter. Even though I told them I’m not a girl. I told them I’m a guy.
Dad’s response was the most favorable initially and I think...he might eventually come around to it (he’s always wanted a son. he has a boy dog and has also imprinted really hard on his lawn roomba about it). He also might...not.
I’d like to transition further. Eventually. If it’s feasible. But also, right now it’s not. Right now it’s me cutting my hair short and not wearing dresses or skirts (even though they’re super comfy) because I want to avoid being misgendered as often as possible. It’s binding for uncomfortable and unsafe lengths of time because I am a MAN dammit, and I will be a man at this family function in whatever way I can. And when I go to the length that I do to be seen the way I want to be seen and I am *ignored*....
fuckin’ hurts you guys. I just fuckin’ hurts. 
And I want to correct them. I want to stand up and say STOP YOU’RE HURTING ME. PLEASE. I AM NOT A GIRL. I HAVEN’T BEEN THIS WHOLE TIME I JUST DIDN’T KNOW WHY I DIDN’T FEEL RIGHT AS A GIRL. PLEASE JUST CALL ME A BOY, USE MY PRONOUNS, USE A NEW NAME OR AT LEAST THE NICKNAME THAT ISN’T MY FULL NAME. 
but i don’t.
because I’m scared of losing them again.
And it’s fucked up because they’re *already* lost. They’re Fox-watchers and Trump-supporters and they don’t want to listen to science or facts or *anything* outside of what’s presented to them by pundits and talk show hosts, and the fucking EIB network with their political propaganda for anything that isn’t what the liberals want.
And I don’t know that I can get them back because they’re *real* far down that particular rabbit hole. And I’m...I’m just trying to figure out what I want in life. What makes me happy. And part of what I want is what I always wanted and never had.
I want my mom and dad to look at me, see me, see what I do see how I try and what I love and care about and tell me that I’m enough. That they love me because this is who I am and I am enough for them. Even if I wasn’t accomplished and didn’t try they would still love me because I’m *me*. and I’m their *child* and they *love me*.
And GOD it is so FUCKING painful to know that’s not a realistic thing to hope for. Because I’ve been trying for 28 GODDAMN years doing ANYTHING and EVERYTHING I can to be enough for them. I played good, christian, conservative little girl for SO goddamn long, even when I wasn’t Christian or conservative anymore, even when I saw the cracks, I wanted to be what they wanted.
And even now that I *am* what my dad wanted (a son) I’m not enough because to him i’m still a girl, to my mom I’m the failed daughter the one she didn’t do enough for so now it’s about how she fucked up and not about NO. This is ME. Stop. Stop LOOKING at me like that WHEN YOU DON’T SEE ME. YOU SEE SOME IDEALIZED VERSION OF ME WHO WAS NEVER GOING TO EXIST BECAUSE SHE WASN’T ENOUGH EITHER.
...
This is a lot more than I thought it would be, pain wise tonight, guys. My bad. 
I’m still struggling with my eating habits, I’m still struggling with my self-worth, and finding what makes me feel fulfilled. I’m getting better at some of it though.
I’ve smiled and laughed more in the past week or so than I have since I came out to my family. I wouldn’t have done that without my very very good friends who are very very kind to me and god I wish I could do more than draw stupid pictures and write stupid stories for them but it makes them happy too? so i’ll just do what I can and maybe it’ll be alright. 
Gonna try not to fall too deep down the abandonment issues pit tonight folks. I’m already upset enough. 
Good talk.
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cianmars · 4 years
Note
For the writer's asks: We could be heroes (just for one day) + #4!
“You’re pretty…” PJ trailed off squinting as he tried to figure out the right way to put it.“Dishevelled?” Neal suggested. “I’m not saying it’s not a good look on you,” PJ teased, “it’s just not normally what you’re like.”Thank you! 
(I literally forgot absolutely everything about this fic so I had to open it up and skim read it... I’m a bad author - this is gonna be a long post with several favourite dialogues cause I’m bi in everything I do so can never choose just one)
(shameless fic plug- We Could be Heroes AO3
4: What’s your favorite line of dialogue? I like the Step-Dad Robin moment: “Robin, what are you doing here?” He frowned and swiftly placed the photographs back into his wallet, pretending he hadn’t been staring at them. “I don’t have anything in my calendar-” “You’re my kid, I don’t need an appointment.” He smiled at him steadily, it would take a lot to knock the smile off of it. “You eaten today?” David nodded his head without even debating it. “Yeah.” Coffee counted as food, he glanced at the clock on his desk, it was later than he realised. “Hrmph.” Robin made a half laugh half judging noise in the back of his throat, it must have been obvious that David was lying. “Well it’s nearly lunch, and I’m sure you’ve been here since before the sun rose and you’ve probably drunk your weight in coffee; let’s go grab something.” “I was going to just order something for here, I have a couple of cases I should be working on.” “Any trials today?” David shook his head. Robin’s voice sounded as bright as his smile. “Perfect, we can go out and get something.” “-Robin-” “-You need fresh air, Davey.” His voice was firm, commanding, and the same one David had copied when he had become a father himself. “We’ll go and have some lunch, my treat. Grab your coat.” 
The instant sibling bonding/ally-ship between Emma and Neal:
“Did we…?” She trailed off. “We never met.” Neal told her, only guessing her question as the thought had been on his mind too. He gave her a half shrug and a comforting smile. “I guess it means there’s no expectations between us, y’know? We can just start from the beginning.” Ah, so she hadn’t been imagining the expectant looks from David and Mary, as though hanging on her every word and waiting for her to tell them that she remembered them. “You remind me of someone, my friend.” Neal frowned. “The friends you stole the car with?” Emma stiffened, he didn’t sound too judgemental, but he had the look on him which August wore when Emma suggested that they do something ever so slightly illegal, she normally got her way with him despite this. “ I stole the car, they were just with me.” She watched him nod and accept it and felt like perhaps she would have an ally here.
Some Mama Snow:
She handed the outfit she had tried on to the fitting room clerk before turning back to Mary Margaret. “I’m sorry that I’m not girly, I’m sure it’s one of the things you were looking forward to before I was born, I mean you already had Neal, anyway,” she shook her head at her own rambling, “I’m sorry I’m not very girly.” Emma began to walk but Mary stopped her, she turned her back towards her, Mary’s hands were on her shoulders and Emma was forced to stare into her eyes, she realised for the first time that they were the exact same shade as her own. “Emma .” She froze as she realised the same thing that Emma had: they share the same eye colour, she had never thought they would ever match, when Emma was a newborn she was blue eyed and Mary hadn’t thought they would change as Neal’s hadn’t. She realised she had waited a little too long and didn’t want Emma to pull away from her again. “Emma , all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be healthy and happy, that was what I wanted before you were born and that’s what I want now. You could dress in pink and dye your skin and hair pink or you could dress in potato sacks, I wouldn’t care so long as you were happy.” She stared into her eyes until she was certain that Emma had got the message. Then she cracked a smile. “I might worry about you catching a cold if you wore only potato sacks though.”
Snowing being divorced but still pining for each other: “The plaid was a lot like the ones you used to wear.” Mary smiled slightly at David before remembering herself and looking back down at her cup. “I probably still have the same ones-” He took a big breath in as though he was about to say something but he cut himself off before he could accidentally let slip that he remembered Mary stealing the plaid often. He cleared his throat and looked down at his coffee. 
And last but not least my baby gays Neal and PJ:
There was a pause as PJ evaluated Neal, who was scrubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, PJ finally let out a laugh. “You scared me man, you know some junior nearly jumped in to save you? I stopped them, told them you could breathe, I’m not sure if they believed me but they were clearly willing to risk it.” PJ’s good humour left a sour taste in Neal’s mouth as guilt worried his stomach, but it was also a relief, Neal let out a snort. “Well better to lose me than to upset the captain of the lacrosse team.” He joked, giving PJ a playful shove. “I’d have saved you.” PJ’s smirk was missing some of the cocky heat and which made it come out somewhat solemn. But Neal’s mind was on the bubble he had somehow formed under the water. It dawned on him why the person must have thought he was drowning. It was the same reason why when he was a small child his parents had always panicked when he was swimming trying to reach the bottom of the water, with no bubbles yet a lot of splashing. “How could you tell? I don’t make bubbles.” “I would know.” PJ replied, his whole heart in his words. They were silent again, for a minute, for two minutes, for enough minutes that they were teetering on the beginnings of something else, something more . There was the sound of younger kids, bursting into the room on the other side of the pool, excited chatter and a teacher yelling them not to run. Neal sucked in a breath and PJ took another step back, Neal could practically feel the distance between them, as though releasing the pressure against a balloon. He felt an ache inside of him. And like that the moment was completely over.
Side note I think I may have rediscovered my love for this verse so thank you sooooo much! 
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thesoundofnat · 5 years
Text
Still fixing all the cracks
ENDGAME SPOILERS AHEAD
Summary: When May reappears after the snap, it’s in front of a moving car. She survives, but needs to stay at the hospital for a while. Where else is Peter supposed to go but to stay with Pepper, Tony and Morgan?
A/N: I turned an angsty prompt from @insane-sociopath slightly less angsty by having May (and Tony!) survive. I hope you like it!
Warnings: Endgame spoilers, nightmares, hints at trauma and PTSD.
Words: 2 100
Tony had known May Parker had vanished after the first snap, and as awful as it sounded he’d been grateful for it. The pain he’d been feeling after Peter had turned to dust, disappeared right in front of him, had almost broken him. He couldn’t imagine how May would’ve felt, losing someone who was her own flesh and blood. If he was to lose Morgan now he was certain he’d go insane.
Not that his love for Peter was any less because of their lack of a blood relation. He would still kill and die for that kid.
Point was, he was grateful May hadn’t had to go through it. It hadn’t been fun.
“Mr Stark?”
Waking up at the hospital, a model of a prosthetic arm on a table across from him courtesy of Bruce, had been jarring. Partly due to the pain and the drugs, but he’d been so sure he was hallucinating Peter being back for the first couple of days that he’d hated his brain for doing that to him.
“How am I alive?” had been his first sentence. The second a demand to see Pepper and Morgan, even though Pepper had been sitting next to him, her trembling hand holding his own. Only something like this could’ve turned Tony Stark into a confused mess, Rhodey had joked, his eyes wet.
“Mr Stark?”
Tony’s body had barely been in any shape to keep his heart going. They all called him a miracle. A once in an existence type of survival.
“I did it for you, you know,” Tony had said to no one in particular, because truly it didn’t matter. It hadn’t mattered and it would never matter.
“I’m so mad at you,” Pepper had said one evening or morning or midafternoon (Tony hadn’t been keeping track). “You could’ve died.”
Tony had smiled, or at least had tried to smile. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“The worst part is that, if you hadn’t done it, you would’ve lived with that regret for the rest of your life.”
“I can’t seem to calm down, can I?”
Pepper had stroked his face. “I’m sure you’ll be calm now.”
“Mr Stark?”
“Hmm?”
Peter - the actual real life alive Peter - must’ve said his name at least three times before he’d realized. Tony focused his gaze on him; took in the tears streaming down his face. “Shit, Pete-”
“It’s nothing bad!” Peter said, sniffling, panicked, voice too loud in the quiet hospital room. “It’s just… well, Aunt May reappeared and-”
Shit, shit, shit.
“An accident and-”
How the hell could life take away the last blood relative that precious kid had?
“She’ll be out in a couple of weeks and-”
“Wait, hold on, back up.”
Apparently May had vanished into dust in the car and reappeared in front of another one, breaking several bones as Earth had welcomed her back. Typical. She’d be fine, but she was going into surgery and wouldn’t be able to leave the hospital for a while.
“I don’t know why I’m such a mess,” Peter said, still his rambly self, after everything.
Tony, only days into his new life post snap, blinked at him. It was, unfortunately, all he managed before the drugs knocked him out again.
When he woke Pepper had made a decision for all of them.
“He’s staying with us until his aunt is back on her feet,” she said. Tony didn’t protest. Why would he?
“I could just crash at Ned’s,” Peter said for the hundredth time, but Pepper shushed him. Tony could tell she’d handle teenage Morgan with no trouble.
By the time Tony got to go home, Peter had been staying there for two weeks already. May’s condition, though not entirely life threatening, had been worse than they’d thought. Peter tried to not let it show how worried he was, for some reason, but it was all but written on his face. Tony, weak and constantly exhausted, felt so helpless he nearly cried.
“I like him,” Morgan said, the two of them alone in Tony’s bedroom, just about avoiding spilling the juice of their melting popsicles onto the bed sheets.
“He’s nice, eh?”
“Very. He makes me laugh.”
“Ah, a comedian. Maybe I just never appreciated his weird gen Z humor.”
Morgan didn’t provide his to her strange remark with any response. Tony had to resist the urge to wrap her in his arms every other minute. As close as they were, he was sure she’d start getting annoyed at him eventually.
He had no idea how much she knew. How close he and the world had been to being entirely ruined. He prayed to god she had no clue, but she was smarter than any kid he’d met (and to be fair, than some adults as well).
If she knew, she hadn’t told him.
“What do you think about him staying with us?” Tony asked her, attempting to sound casual.
“I think it’s fun.”
“But do you miss it just being us?”
“A little,” she said, swallowing the last of her ice cream. “But it’s okay. I like him and he needs us. That’s what mommy said.”
“Mommy’s right, you know.”
“She says he’s like your son.”
Tony doubted Pepper had worded it like that, but he tilted his head anyway. “I care about him.”
“Why did he never come visit before?”
Crap.
“He was away, for a bit.” Tony smiled, ignoring the sudden rush of emotions. “I’m happy you finally got to meet him.”
*
“Mr Stark, you have a daughter.”
“Yes, Pete, we’ve established that.”
Morgan’s feeling toward Peter were nothing compared to Peter’s delight and utter surprise at Tony having put a child into the world (or well - Pepper). Every so often, usually after Tony and Morgan had interacted in any way, Peter would repeat these words. Tony wasn’t sure if he should be offended at the awed tone or not.
“How was it?”
“How was what?”
“When she was being born?”
“Uh, I’m pretty sure you’re asking the wrong parent here.”
Peter rolled his eyes. “I mean, how were you feeling?”
Tony shrugged. “I was a complete mess, to be honest. Crying and laughing and pacing all over the place. When I first got to see her-” He broke off, clearing his throat. “It was the best moment of my life.”
Peter’s smile could light up the whole goddamn world. “I wish I had been there.”
Tony reached for him, pulling him into a half-hug. “Me too, kid. Me too.”
“But I’m here now, and I’m gonna be the best- uh.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“What were you about to say?”
Peter had turned red. “I was gonna say big brother, but I felt like- well, I didn’t want to-”
“Of course you’re her big brother, you nerd.”
“Oh.”
Tony snorted. “Well, she did call you my son.”
“Did you correct her?”
“Nah.”
This time Peter’s beaming face was turned downward, bashful.
Tony ruffled his hair. “Come on. Let’s go make the queens of the house some dinner, shall we?”
*
The weeks of Peter’s stay had some dark moments, mostly consisting of Tony’s body not cooperating or Pepper’s heart breaking all over again if she remembered almost losing him or Tony thinking of the moment Peter turned to dust, over and over. It was sleepless nights and trips to the hospital for check ups and visits and all the while Peter feeling guilty for enjoying his stay when his aunt was alone in an empty room.
“You’re there about 90% of your days,” Tony told him. “She doesn’t expect you to do more. In fact, I think she’d kick both your ass and mine if I allowed you to sleep in those torture devices to chairs.”
Tony went to visit her without Peter at times, when he was in school. They didn’t say much because it wasn’t needed.
“I’m sorry you had to spend five years without him,” May said one day, her hand gripping Tony’s perpetually trembling one. The prosthetic one was steady.
“We fixed it,” he said, voice hoarse and slightly too quiet.
“I’m so glad you did.”
“We lost some along the way,” he added, his mind on Natasha, as it often was.
May gave his hand a squeeze. They didn’t speak again for a while.
*
Having a teenage superhero in the house meant helping them with - and forcing them to do -  homework and making them promise to not be out to late and “no, Pete, Spider-Man isn’t needed tonight.” Maybe he was being hypocritical, but at least he could laugh at each look Pepper shot him whenever he reprimanded Peter for things he’d probably done himself.
It also meant running into him when they were both wandering the house in their sleepless states, both confused, both feeling too much with no relief in sight. Tony had been surprised seeing Peter the first night, but, despite his saying he had nothing to make him feel like this really because the snap hadn’t lasted five years for him, Tony couldn’t blame him.
“I’m sure it was traumatic in ways you can’t explain,” Tony said, remembering the hysteria just before he vanished. “And to be fair, the whole goddamn battle was a mess. I’d be worried if you weren’t having trouble sleeping, as much as I wish you didn’t.”
“Does it hurt a lot?” Peter asked then, eyes on Tony’s trembling arm.
“This? Nah. It’s just my body not being as strong anymore. It’s getting better.” Tony hadn’t told any of them of the times he’d entered his lab trying to create something only for him to scream in frustration and not go back in days. His prosthetic arm was working just fine, but the rest of him, parts he’d gotten so used to using whenever he built or tinkered around, were still recovering. That was what Tony said, at least. No one had promised him his old body back. He reckoned he couldn’t really expect them to lie so awfully to him.
“I’ve never been as scared as I was when I saw you sitting there, arm practically crumbling-” Peter cut himself off. “Sorry. Jesus. You probably don’t wanna hear about that.”
“No, no, it’s okay. Talk.”
“I can’t.”
Tony understood.
Some nights, Morgan found them, blinking up at them in the light of the kitchen, confused. “Daddy?”
“Hey, pumpkin, why aren’t you in bed?”
“Why aren’t you?”
And Peter would grin, whenever the tiny little four year old would be smart with her genius father. Tony’s heart was never as full as it was in those moments.
And then, it was over. May, recovered, got to go home and bring Peter with her. They all knew it had been coming.
“You’re sad, aren’t you?” Pepper said the first night without him.
Tony nodded. “A bit. It’s silly.”
“It’s not.”
“Maybe not.”
“You can visit him this time, you know.”
Tony laughed, so loudly he must’ve startled Morgan, wherever she was in the house. “I know.”
“I’m gonna miss having him in the house,” Pepper said. “It wasn’t the same being in the Tower or the Compound. People feel so much closer here.”
“It’s because this is a normal house, which apparently is what normal people live in.”
Pepper laughed. “Domesticity suits you.”
“I try.”
“I know.”
She always did.
“How are you?” Peter asked a couple of weeks later. They hadn’t seen each other since he’d gone back home.
“Me? Doing better. How’s May?”
“She’s doing much better.”
“And how are you?”
Peter didn’t reply immediately, eyes finding the street they were walking next to. “I’m doing all right, mostly.”
“Ah.”
“No new nightmares.”
“But old ones?”
“Always the same ones.”
“I know the feeling.”
If Tony could take all of Peter’s pain and trauma, he would, but he knew that wasn’t possible, so he did the next best thing.
“Let’s grab some ice cream. I think that daughter of mine has made me addicted to that stuff.”
Peter laughed. “I miss her.”
“Well, then I think it’s about time you come visit her, hm?”
“Just say when and I’ll be there.”
“No need. You can show up whenever you want, as long as it isn’t in the middle of the night. Unless it’s an emergency, of course.”
“You say that now, but I bet you’ll raise an eyebrow at me when I walk in on your date with Pepper.”
“As if we won’t have enlisted you to babysit Morgan to begin with.”
“Happy won’t be happy. Hah, that was unintentional.”
“Happy will have to learn to share his duties.”
They were gonna be okay.
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Text
a lot of jumbled thoughts on ch 76
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aka: shit is about to go down, oh boi oh boi, but let me ramble about stuff first 
also im late to the party but shhh we got another 3 weeks before the earth arc so its still okay
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isnt it funny how we’ve spent six months speculating about Euclase’s shadiness while Phos told Aechmea they’re ‘amicable’? And isnt it funny how Phos contradicts themselves at the end of the chapter cause they’re scared Euc will see right through them? Will we ever know more about Euc? Please? Pretty please?
also, I’m surprised by the moon people’s efficiency. They have no idea if Phos’ plan is going to work, maybe they dont even know how long it’ll take for them to become nothingness if Sensei starts praying, and here they are, making arrangements to leave everything to the gems. 
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Reminds me of chap 56(?), when Phos thought the gems should acquire lunarian technology. Can’t believe it was this easy and now Amethyst’s about to become a hybrid between a pilot and an engineer? Well done, Ame, nice character development. Evangelion crossover when?
Why did Phos pick Amethyst, anyway? Alex, Yellow and Padpa are incapacitated, Goshe and Cairn are unpredictable, but what about Dia and Benito? Maybe Benito already has their hands full with taking care of Alex. But Dia?
Dia’s interesting tbh. Even Phos knows that, given the choice, Dia might decide to stay on the moon. They started off as one of the main characters and then slowly slid to the background and they’ve been p much static for a long while. i wonder if they’ll ever change at this point.
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Ah, the problem child. 
This part hurt, as it’s custom now with Cairn-centered pages. Yet i just adore the idea of Cairn blowing up the whole moon one disastrous experiment at a time.
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ABOUT THE PROTECTIVE COATING! 
how does it work exactly? does it protect gems from cracking? does it increase their hardness/toughness? has somebody thought of using it on Phos cause, yknow, they’re still mostly made of brittle phosphophyllite and they’re going in what’s basically enemy territory unharmed?? can somebody please care about Phos for once?
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“My friend has time”
That’s the face of a man who doesn’t, in fact, have time. Aechmea is every bad boss you’ve ever had, he just doesn’t care. But bribing people with pasta is smart, i know i’d hardly resist. 
Also please let’s skip over how Aechmea is putting literal guards so that Barbata can’t hit on his shiny rock wifey. If anyone still believed Cairn has made nothing but independent choices so far please stop being delusional, you’re only hurting yourself.
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Yeah, uhm, i’m gonna die (and my species has no concept of death so i have no idea what that means) for this totally good guy i’ve known for at least a few months (and my species lives forever so a few months is nothing, really) and that i’ve married (yeah, still trying to wrap my head around this marriage thing. also wife. everyone calls me wife and princess for some reason). This is fine.
also, if Shittymea’s gone and become nothingness he wouldn't be able to miss you, Cairn. but has anyone taken the time to explain it to you? Anyone?  
On another note. Is it just me or Cairn’s wife-outfit is way less revealing than Cairn’s bitchy girlfriend-outfits? Even when you don’t consider the lab coat. I wonder if Cairn’s still choosing them. 
Maybe Aechmea wants them to dress in a way that’s more appropriate for a wife/queen? Or maybe his possessiveness has started to extend to something more than having Cairn surrounded by guards at all times.
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FINALLY WHAT VENTRI SAID IN CH 8 MAKES SENSE! 
And goddammit, this is one of my favorite theories and you’re telling me they already used it and discarded it? Is that why the lunarians experimented on gems? is this why the gems went mad? what about the human particle? THEY’RE STILL EXPERIMENTING, I FEEL IT
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what was there for the moon people to gain? they already had admirabilis to experiment on (the criminals) and they most likely breed them to keep their population stable. Why’d the lunarians need more? this explanation doesnt match Ventricosus’ and it doesn’t really hold up. 
Thought it was impossible at this point, but Aechmea just earned 10 more untrustworthy points. I wonder why he’s hiding information from Phos
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HOW VERY CONVENIENT
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“I’m going to do everything I can.”
So this means this is Phos’ final attempt. This is it. If it doesn’t work out they’re gonna quit. 
Shit is about to go down during the next arc, an Earth arc. And this is exactly why i think Phos’ll acquire the seventh treasure during/at the end of this arc. More about this in a future meta cause this thing is already too long.
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i’ve read a couple of posts already about this sentence. The translation is a little awkward, and it’s still ambiguous in Japanese. 
Knowing Ichikawa’s stories, i’m tempted to say it’s foreshadowing, a metaphor for what’ll happen next. It might even be that the story is coming to a close, it’s very hard to say.
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MORE LUSTROUS SCRIPT SAMPLES! 
sorry, my inner linguist took the wheel. Yet i’d pay to see the actual lunarian manual. and the lunarian script. nngh. 
but yeah, “it’s not japanese/chinese” confirmed, “it’s not just alex’s bad writing” also confirmed, “it’s mongolian” not confirmed. but it def looks like it. a little. a tiny little bit. i love it. 
Also let’s take a moment to appreciate everyone’s cuteness in these pages cause the end of this chapter hurts. And was Phos joking? are they really planning to call Benito? When did Benito become a main character?? I’m so proud of them
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“don’t act rashly” is a recurring piece of advice among gems. Even Padpa told Phos to keep cool and think, while Cinnabar is constantly observing and Alex clings to a 400 years old hatred.
It makes sense for a society that’s as stagnant and conservative as the lustrous’ to value contemplation over action. These rocks live forever, there’s no need to rush into things after all. Interesting.
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Once again, Phos is carrying all the burden on their back. A child, one of the youngest gems, they’ve lost partners and pieces of their body in a short time, unveiled unsettling truths, betrayed their family multiple times, sided with the enemy, had partners and friends turn their back on them. All for the greater good.
They’re pushing themselves to their own limits, breaking them over and over, destroying their mental stability in the process. Why are they doing this? What’s the point if every answer just elicits new questions. 
It’s heartbreaking to feel Phos’ regret. How dare they think of Sensei’s kindness? How dare they envy their old self? After everything they did, after betraying Sensei? They can only move forward now, for all the people who didn’t make it or that count on Phos. It’s just heartbreaking. I feel so much for them.
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junkyardlynx · 5 years
Text
You like scary stories? Good. I’ve got one. Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, or whatever. Who fucking knows. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure it wasn’t just one shared fever dream between seven stupid kids. Except the part where the dream was real. Has to be real now that I think about it. Anyway. I’m rambling. About all I can do, right now. Haha. How sad. 
The year was 1998.
Good year.
Goldeneye came out in 1997, so it was really the year 0001 AG to me and my friends. We fucking loved Goldeneye.
I was seventeen and I lived alone in a small town in northwest Indiana. It’s farm country’s farm country. I’d been orphaned and bounced around since I was ten, but being nearly eighteen and relatively well-behaved was reason enough for the state to turn me loose with my inheritance. Quitters. You could stand at one edge of the town and spit to the other end. We had one bar, an elementary school, a post office, a vet, and a corner store. It sucked, but it was cheap and somewhat near the only living family I still had. I lived just above the post office and vet, which was probably the only really neat part of town, so I guess I had something going for me. Add a shitty 1988 Ford Probe bought at cost from a frustrated dealership into the mix and I was up street.  
My uncle Mike lived alone too, a forty minute drive away out by the county line road. He had a pretty nice farm house to himself after my aunt Sherry filed for divorce due to her own extramarital affair. I guess when you’re surrounded by woods on all sides and the only things to keep you company are a host of chickens, a couple turkeys, a goat, a dog, and a...fucking peacock, you kinda get antsy for some excitement. I suppose a two story barn and a grain silo aren’t exciting enough. Anyway. They hadn’t taken me in after my parents died because they had their own problems and I understood. Couldn’t force a kid on someone who wasn’t going to take proper care of it.
Mike was headed into the city for the weekend to shack up with this girl he was into. He did this from time to time, too awkward to ask her to move in with him and too shy to accept her offer, so they just had their trysts. Wasn’t really my business. He called me after I got home on Friday from classes and immediately launched into his request.
“Hey killer, I’m going to see Mary this weekend. Can ya hold down the fort for me? Just feed the animals once a day and don’t let Garfield eat anything dumb.”
“Uh, sure.” 
Garfield was the goat’s name.
I watched him eat the license plate off “Uncle” Van’s...van, once. His name was Van, he was a friend of Mike’s aaaaaand he owned a van. I guess life works like that sometimes, predictable and all. Anyway, Garfield would eat literally fucking anything near his big dumb idiot mouth, like most goats. 
“And uh, I think there’s a bunch of beer in the fridge that’s gonna go bad. Could you do me a favor and get rid of it, bud?”
I could hear the wink through the receiver. I grinned as I pinned the receiver between my shoulder and ear, rummaging around through the cupboards to find my little book of phone numbers.
“Oh yeah, sure thing. Wouldn’t want to have bad beer hanging around in the fridge.”
“That’s what I’m talking about. It better all be gone when I get back. Love ya, kid.”
“Love you too, man. Have a good weekend.”
With an audible click, the other line hung up and I was already dialing people’s numbers. Robert was first, as he was my best and most radically tight brother-man. 
“What’s up, Dingus Kong?” 
Ever since he was twelve, he had the voice of a full-time, carton-a-day smoker. I was honestly a little jealous.
“There’s a beer leak at my uncle’s and we have to plug it up. Call Louis and Alex and make their dumb asses come out. You know the address?”
“Hell yeah, dude. Can I invite Jay?”
“What do I look like, a cop? Of course you can. Saves me the trouble.”
“Cool, later dickless.”
“Peace.”
It wasn’t long until I’d roped Robert, Louis and Jay into things, along with Alex, Laura and June. Alex and Louis had been dating forever and were pretty much attached at the hip, while I had a thing for June. A very quiet, subdued thing, because I operated under the assumption that no one was ever interested and that any thought to the contrary was pointless and asking for trouble. 
We met up at my uncle’s house around 9. They’d pitched in and brought a shit ton of snacks but no one brought any actual food, so our diet that night was going to consist of...Natty Light, snack cakes and chips, pretty much. High school kids eat worse on a daily basis, so no one really cared. I remember being shocked at just how packed the fridge was with shitty Natty Light. Good thing I had good friends.
It was a pretty relaxed atmosphere - Louis and Alex were touchy in the corner of the living room, already a couple beers deep. Robert, Laura and Jay were playing Goldeneye on the Nintendo 64 in the den. They had a penalty game where you had to drink when you died and if you were that fucking prick that picked Oddjob, you both had to take a drink at the start of the round and two when you died. It was fair, believe me. Fuck people who pick Oddjob. 
That pretty much just left June and I. We relaxed in the kitchen, shooting the shit and laughing at each other’s bad jokes. Sometimes we’d look out over the kitchen counter and down into the den / living room - the farm house’s design was always kind of odd to me, but I liked it. The whole house was a one story with a basement. You could come in through the glass sliding door and be right in the living room / den area, then turn right and go up four or five stairs to reach the bedrooms and the turnoff into the kitchen / office area where the front door was. The kitchen had a very open structure, with the sink looking down on the den, and you kinda felt like a commander if sat there and just watched everyone. So I did.
“Hey, Charles?” 
“What’s up?” 
I turned back towards June, taking another sip from that honestly kinda shitty beer in my hand. Ah, the taste of youth - cheap alcohol obtained through immoral or subversive means, like a really cool uncle.
“We should go out to the barn.”
“Why the hell and fuck not?” 
I put on some bravado, but honestly, my uncle’s farm creeped me out. I’d stayed here for the summer once and I swore I could hear things swaying in time with the tall grass as the sun started to die. An animal would go missing every now and then, but my uncle always shrugged it off as coyotes. Never really felt like coyotes, but who was I to disagree when he was the one that lived here all the time?
“Hey, everyone! We’re going outside, time to get up in the hayloft and be stupid.”
I heard a chorus of replies and the click-whrrr of a tube television being powered off, followed by a rowdy collection of feet stomping up carpeted steps. Everyone poured into the kitchen, grabbing things like twinkies and cold hot dogs and new beers. It wasn’t long before we took the party outside, flicking the floodlights on the house on for comfort as much as visibility. We ambled as a drunken mass, slowly making our way towards the faded red barn. 
I have no idea why the barn was so fucking huge, given that less then ten animals lived there. The space was equipped for a sizable amount of large livestock like cows and horses, but all that it held was a collection of idiot birds with too much love and not enough sense. A ladder leading up to the hayloft poked through a square, and we began our inebriated ascent. 
It wasn’t long before we settled into a circle, talking about nothing in particular on the warm wooden floor of the loft. June had taken a seat next to me, so of course, I overthought absolutely everything before determining there was no way she was into me because why would she be? She was way too cool and cute. It was obvious. 
Somehow, we got onto the topic of scary stories. Spooky scary skeleton time. I made up some dumb thing about a cannibal cult in the woods, but it wasn’t very thought out, so everyone gave me shit. Robert just thrust his beer into the air and yelled “WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE, IT’S ALIENS”, which got a laugh out of all of us. It finally came around to June, who began to tell us about La Llarona, a crying ghost lady in Mexican folklore. 
It was actually pretty spooky until you realized June was like, four foot fucking eight with the voice of an adorable church mouse, and then you were unable to take it seriously. 
We swapped a few more before silence descended on us, slow and natural. The workman’s lamps that I’d lit with a long trigger lighter burned, casting shadows along the walls and illuminating our faces. I smiled as I realized June’s head had come to rest on my right shoulder, feeling not unlike someone blessed by the attention of a regal crow.
“Dude. I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry, Illberto.” 
I waved him off with my left hand before looking around. Something was bothering me, but I couldn’t put my hands on it. Honestly speaking, it was kinda like someone had some bodacious body odor going on and tried to cover it up with some sort of perfume. I took as...well, as discreet a sniff as possible, trying to see if it was one of us. 
I don’t think it was, because the more I smelled it, the more I realized it smelled less like body odor and more like that strange stench of death. Sickly sweet, putrefaction rendering the body of something no longer alive into components for bacteria to consume. I kinda wrote it off as dead mice somewhere since I was an idiot at 17. (I still am an idiot, but I was a bigger idiot. Harder head. More impressively stupid. Anyway.) The smell was bothering me though, so I gently pushed June’s head off my shoulder and stood up.
“Since Mr. Crunch and Munch wants some food, I’m gonna run back to the house and grab some chow and booze. Anyone want anything in particular?”
No one really had an idea of what they wanted, so the group just started chanting “FOOD AND BOOZE, FOOD AND BOOZE, FOOD AND BOOZE” at me. I laughed and nodded, giving a sort of half-wave to June who just smiled at me the whole time as I went to climb down the ladder.
Too bad the ladder was gone.
I groaned in annoyance, turning around to address everyone.
“Very cool, who fucked with the ladder?”
“What are you talking about, brother-man?”
Louis piped up, head resting on top of Alex’s. I gestured dramatically at the square hole in the floor, then pantomimed the act of climbing the ladder.
“There was a ladder here. It’s gone now.”
“It probably fell, Charlie.” 
There went Laura, being the voice of reason. I shrugged in assent. Stop making sense, god damn it.
“I’ll just pull a Spidey-boy and jump down. It’s like, ten feet.” 
Something in my head kept telling me that people can die from slipping and falling on ice, but I ignored it. I just had to brace myself, land on my feet and not hit my brain cage. Really simple. 
I walked back over to the hole in the hayloft, sitting down and scooching to the edge. That fucking smell punched me right in the nose once again, pungent and sweet. I almost stop then, but I don’t really wanna look like a goon in front of June. Uh, June and everyone else, that is.
So I stuck my foot down into the oddly deep darkness of the barn below. 
Something wet and hot smacked against it, nearly wrapping around my exposed ankle.
I yelped perhaps the most pathetic sound known to man and physically extricated myself from the hole by leaping up and jumping back. Everyone laughed of course.
“What’s up, penis pump?”
Fuck off, Robert.
“Either the turkeys have really long and slimy necks now, or something down there just grabbed my fucking ankle.”
“Very funny, Charles.” Alex fixed me with a stare, assuming I was taking the piss out of everybody. Holy fuck, I wished I was.
“I’m serious, you assholes.” I’d thrust my right leg out, showing everyone my ankle and foot. A reddish brown goop clung to it, thick and viscous. The smell was emanating from it, and everyone seemed to have taken notice to it. Unless they started retching for a different reason, like my ankle being particularly abhorrent.
“Brother-man, dude, what the fuck is that?”
You’re asking me, Louie Louie?
“Yeah, that’s a negative Ghost Rider, I have no idea. I’m gonna chill up here for a bit, if someone else feels like Rambo, they can go down.” 
I took off my button up and used it to wipe the goo off of my ankle, but the smell seemed to have set in. I noticed a burning sensation on my skin that increased in intensity as I wiped, but it soon faded to a dull throbbing, becoming the least of my worries. In that time, Louis got up to check out the hole.
 He returned to where Alex was, face pale and stiff. 
That’s when we heard it.
“veerrrryfufufufu-”
The sound stopped, then started again. Almost like someone starting a sputtering car engine.
“Verrrrry cocococococo-cokkkkkkkkkhhssssh. Wshooo fufufufufuf. Wshoooo fufufufuckt wishlatter?” 
You ever have someone come up to you and say “hey, we need to talk” and you feel your stomach drop out of your body and onto the floor? 
Yeah, that. That’s the feeling I felt, but way worse. After all, someone wanted to know who fucked with the ladder. Someone who couldn’t string together two words if they wanted to, and they desperately wanted to.
We’d all crammed ourselves into the back of the hayloft, the seven of us together. Oppressive darkness clung to the places not illuminated by the lamps, and the long lighter lay a good ten feet away from us. No one moved to get it. We heard it again and again, some twisted mockery of a voice continually asking who fucked with the ladder. Then it asked again, in my voice.
“Very cool. Who fucked with the ladder?”
Everyone’s eyes were on me, and I shook my head wordlessly as it asked again, perfectly, matching my rhythm and cadence and tone. 
“Hey, if this is a joke because you thought the Goosebumps books were high literature, we’re gonna string you up by your earlobes dude.”
“Fuck off. It’s not. You think I got bored and recorded me fucking around before you all got here? With the tape recorder I don’t fucking own?”
I was hostile.
We were all on edge.
“I don’t know, were you man?”
“Don’t start with me, Robert.”
“Yeah, whatever, you’re a lazy piece of shit. I know you wouldn’t do this.”
“I swear to god.”
The tension was almost lifted until we heard that wet smacking again, like someone slapping a steak on pavement. It was hilarious until you realized it was probably either something dead being slammed around, or some part of the mysterious thing’s anatomy. The smacking persisted as it mercifully ceased it’s questioning, realizing it’s bait wasn’t working. Slowly, the wet squelching of flesh against concrete grew quiet and far away and the stench that pervaded the air began to thin.
I appraised everyone and jerked my head back at the hole in the hayloft.
“Okay. Okay. We’re gonna drop down and run to the house.”
“Is there any better option you have that isn’t ‘jump down and say hi to the crazy stinky murder rapist’ below us?”
“Not really, Alex. Sorry.”
“Alex and I can stay up here,” Louis offered, but she looked at him with her mouth agape.
“Are you dumb, Louis? I’m not staying in that barn alone with this thing. No, really, are you an idiot?”
I looked at Louis with a kind of knowing glance, knowing he was just trying to help out and allay her fears. Couldn’t really blame her, though.
“He’s just looking out for what you want to do. Anyway, we should all go. I’ll go down first and keep a look out while everyone comes down. C’mon.”
I honestly don’t know where I found the balls of steel I was now equipped with, but I was thankful. I think it was just this overwhelming sense of “we have to go now or something bad is going to happen.” Without giving anyone a chance to reply, I broke away from our little heard and took a running start at the hole, leaping down it before my rational mind could catch up.
I let my legs hit and then tucked myself into a roll to rob the fall of it’s momentum, coming up unscathed. I glanced around, greeted by deadly...nothing. Just silence. It wasn’t until I looked at the ground that I noticed it was covered in a thick layer of that reddish-brown goop, and it stunk horribly. I started to gag but I had the sense to bite it down. No point in putting more disgusting fluids on the floor.
“Jump down! C’mon!”
I shouted up and June practically leapt into my arms, so I caught her and set her down, giving her a tender smile. She was all of four foot eight and ninety pounds, so it wasn’t really a feat of athleticism. Of course, Robert came next, and my knees buckled as his six foot frame met mine with that peculiar rapport we had. 
“No smile for me?”
“I swear, dude.”
I swore a lot, apparently.
The rest followed in suit until eight of us stood in the barn, devoid of animals as it was.  I hoped they’d just run off or sought shelter, but another part of me said that wasn’t the case. I exhaled roughly and looked at our group before nodding.
“Okay, we gotta run. I don’t know when that thing’s coming back, but I can already smell that weird stink getting stronger. I think we’ll be safe in the house since we can look the doors and call the cops.”
“Wait, cops? Dude, we’re doing a little thing called underage drinking.”
Thank you for stating the obvious, Louis.
“Oh, yeah! Way better to get murdered and eaten. You’re right.”
“Point taken.” 
We all murmured our assent before taking one last look around. The lamps burned, slowly dimming as their fuel began to run out. I think we left the lighter up there. Not that it mattered, I guess. I reached out and took June’s petite hand, tugging her gently towards the house.
“Let’s go.”
We began to do an awkward sort of power walk, too scared to run and draw it’s attention but not intent on going any slower than we had to. Our group of seven began to cut across the field, towards the shining lights of the farmhouse. 
A horrific wet SMACK from behind us broke that fragile discipline that kept us calm. A plaintive sort of gurgling howl, like a tiger braying it’s dying cry inside of a charnel pit spurred us on, and I roughly pulled on June’s hand. Her fingers slipped from mine for a moment, but her strong and lengthy fingers found mine, slick with what I assumed was sweat. I didn’t bother looking back as the warm porch lights flooded my vision. I let go of the hand I was holding and turned around to regard our group of eight, making sure everyone was there.
Wait.
Eight?
June, Robert, Louis, Alex, Laura, Jay, and myself. Seven. I glanced at my hand, realizing it was slick with that peculiar fluid. I kept the gorge rising in my throat down, somehow.
Swallowing both vomit and my fear, I began to inspect everyone before herding them inside, one by one. There wasn’t a face I didn’t recognize, but there was an extra person here. I got June, Alex, Robert, Laura and Louis into the house before I realized it. 
There were two Jays.
“Hey Jake, come inside.”
Jay kinda gave me a weird look, wondering if I was actually an idiot. The right Jay, anyway. The other one just slowly started to walk forward.
“Hey, I said Jake come inside man. Practice your manners dude.”
My stare was insistent on the real Jay’s, begging him to come in and not make a scene. He shrugged and stepped inside, and only a moment later I was behind him, slamming the sliding glass door so hard I thought I’d shatter. 
The Jay that wasn’t Jay pressed it’s face to the glass and that fetid liquid began to pour from it’s nose as it’s now-malformed hand began to tap lightly on the glass. What looked like clothes began to slough off in thick puddles of what looked to be flesh, pooling on the patio.
“Come inside. Hey. Manners. Come inside. Hey. Come inside.” 
Robert had noticed what was going on and yelled in what I’m sure he’d want me to report was a very manly and commanding shout. Basically, he screamed like a little bitch. Everyone else noticed and booked it up the sort little landing to the second tier of the house, not willing to look at what was happening anymore.
I couldn’t look away. It gently tapped at the glass,  as a second figure approached from the darkness, eventually pressing it’s face to the glass.
My face.
I watched my own face melt away into nothing, forming a featureless expanse of skin with two unseeing and empty eye sockets. The me that wasn’t me tapped politely on the glass like a door-to-door salesman, asking to be let in.
That sure wasn’t fucking happening. In a haze, I waddled backwards, reaching for the phone that sat on the coffee table by the sofa in this 70′s decor mess of a living room.
It wasn’t there. The cord lay neatly on the table, but the entire phone was gone. It looked deliberate, which means that...well, it meant that my uncle took it with him.
Something clicked in my mind, but I buried it as I pedaled backwards slowly, approaching the display cabinet that held my grandmother’s prized compound bow. I heard from my uncle that she’d been an avid hunter into her 90′s and only passed due to the ravages of...well, a car wreck. I was never more thankful to have a badass relative I’d never met than when I pulled that compound bow out of the display cabinet and nocked an arrow.
Never mind the fact that the last time I went bow hunting was when I was like, twelve.
I stared down the two creatures, still begging to be let in in my voice. My hands trembled even as I began to draw back the heavy string. God damn, grandma, how strong were you? What the hell. 
I strafed up the steps, muscles in my arms screaming for release, but I told myself that they couldn’t come in unless they were invited. It was just a glass door, and these things weren’t dumb, apparently. I don’t know what they were. I’d met strange things in the woods around the house, but never anything like this. Obviously. The surreality of it all made it seem absurd to even question what they were. 
It wasn’t until I reached the kitchen with everyone else that I could slowly release the tension and lower the bow, though I kept the arrow nocked and ready. I gave everyone in the kitchen a wary nod as they huddled together, staying deathly quiet. Looking over the kitchen counter and down into the den, I could see one still tapping on the glass. The other was gone.
A soft knock at the door by the office let us know where the other had wandered off to. It repeated a broken string of words in my voice, asking to be let in, saying it was very cool. It’d be humorous if it wasn’t fucking terrifying. 
Wordlessly, I huddled everyone back into the hallway and lead them to my uncle’s room, unlocking it with the key I had. It was the furthest bedroom away from everything else and had a clear line of sight to the hallway, so if they somehow broke their self-imposed rules, I could at least take a steady shot. The door creaked open and the bedroom lay before us as I flipped on the light.
My uncle’s room was surprisingly sparse and barren. No personal effects remained and you could tell where the furniture had been moved in a hurry, like someone was looking for something. It gave the feeling of someone that wasn’t coming back, and the discontent in my heart grew. 
“Yeah, think he’s been moving stuff over to his girlfriend’s place.” 
I said to no one in particular, placating questions before they could come out. A barren mattress lay on a box spring in the corner.
“Let’s stay in here tonight. It’s not gonna be comfortable, but a couple of people can take the bed and the rest of us can take the floor. I’ll keep watch.”
“Charles...”
Robert sounded concerned for once. I laughed. I glanced back and his face soured before he smiled.
“Nevermind, you’re still a penis pump.”
Everyone, still slightly drunk and nervous, began to occupy their own space in the empty room. I sat against the open doorframe, bow laying on my lap, trained down the hallway. Minutes slipped into hours, and everyone began to pass into a light sleep.
Everyone except me.
The sight of the flesh sloughing off their mutable frames was burned into my mind. Not much sleep to be found after that.
Throughout the night, I heard taps all around the house, like a diligent inspector checking for termites in wood. If I strained my sleepless ears, I could hear my own voice rattling through the walls. The deathly sweet stench of the barn had returned, permeating my brain and setting up residence there. 
Once or twice, I thought I heard tapping and murmuring at the single window in my uncle’s bedroom, but surely that wasn’t possible. It was a good eight feet of the ground, as the room sat on the second “tier” of the house. I dozed for a moment and the tapping seemed to grow more and more furious, so I shook myself awake. I began to dig the bowstring into my finger, rubbing it up and down, fraying my own skin until it bled. 
I felt like I was going to go insane. 
A few long hours later and the sun began to rise, banishing the tapping noise with it and the scent after that. I rose, looking around at the sleeping faces of my friends, relieved. I looked around the empty room once more and went to close my eyes before I realized there was reddish goop smeared on the window of my uncle’s bedroom. 
I’d been watched, all night.
All of us had. 
How many had there been?
Enough to replace us?
Did it matter?
Adrenaline flooding my exhausted body, I crept around the house and checked every window, every door. They were all smeared with handprints, fingerprints, imprints of faces traced in that corpse-goo. My stomach roiled heavily, the beer and junk food of the night before threatening to come up.
We were supposed to be a sacrifice, weren’t we?
The copious amounts of beer. The lack of a phone. My uncle’s personal effects all gone from his room. I suppose the rest, even grandma’s bow, was replaceable to him. Including me.
I woke everyone up and told them we should leave. No one fought it, considering we’d survived the night by listening to me. It was a sort of hollow and empty accolade, but I’d take it. 
As Robert and June piled in my Ford Probe outside, I snuck a peek at the barn. Dark red stains and the remnants of feathers, fur and flesh stained the outside of it’s semi-dilapidated structure, as if the animals had been killed by being thrown at the walls in anger. I swallowed dryly, realizing what those wet thuds and smacks had been. 
We spent the rest of the weekend together, all seven of us. One night at Robert’s, the rest of the day at June’s. I tried several times to contact my uncle, but his girlfriend’s landline was disconnected and his emergency cell phone wasn’t picking up. 
Abandoned twice by the family that wouldn’t even take me in, I guess. 
I never found out what those things were. My uncle’s house was marked as abandoned and reclaimed by the bank, eventually being sold at auction for dirt cheap. I didn’t care. I’d stayed away from the forested areas and anywhere approaching natural, and even took to a vegetarian diet for a few months. 
Eventually the memory faded, and years later I had almost forgotten about it. Life went on, and I remained in that cozy little apartment above the vet’s office and the post office. 
Until tonight. 
When I smelled something sticky-sweet, like what the insides of a pitcher plant must be.
Where something tapped at the door to my apartment, begging to be let in. 
Where my own voice begged me to be let in.
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hildorien · 5 years
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I am in the minority but I’d love to know more about the pre-noldor elvish edain culture, history, and just life. 
I wanna know more about men in the context of men, I wanna see history through human eyes without the elvish perspective. 
I wanna know the full experiences of all humans in middle earth not the ones the elves interacted with. And if you have to have elves, I wanna hear about what humans thought of elves that isnt ‘oh they are so perfect and amazing and beautiful uwu’, because that’s kind of boring and we can all agree first age elves? on the whole? pretty shitty. (I love em but they have one brain cell to share among them and fuck up on the regular). 
I wanna see Humans who were born into a dumpster fire that is the world of arda, these are a people who didn’t get Orome leading them to heaven on earth, they got Morgoth. These are a people who lived in Morgoth’s land for centuries who probably experienced horror and oppression from basically their species infancy. Unlike the elves of valinor, or even the Sindarin protected by Melian, horror and despair would have not been their abnormal, it would be their everyday.  But they aren’t broken, they survive. They make families, connections, lives in this wasteland. They adapt and change, because I think in some ways that is the race of men’s true advantage over elves. That we don’t have a gap on our ‘greatness’ persay, humanity’s ambitions get’s mutated into greed a lot (I mean numenor is a dumspter fire for a reason) but I think that human ambition is a strength because it means we don’t accept our circumstances. The Edian sure didn’t. 
The edain, the Boerians, the people of haleth, and the hadorians, all marched themselves out of morgoth’s land hoping for something better, with NO GUARANTEE they find anything better.  But they still did it. And while we are here, let’s talk about how the race of men has not guarantee of anything, like elves (and dwarves) kind of know where they end up. They go to Mandos and get reborn, they go to aule, respectively. Men...don’t have that. Men really didn’t get anything (but Morgoth and suffering). They leave this world forever, thats what they know. Thats what they are told. 
But no one knows what the means. (Personally, I think its like a good place situation kind of. Eru is just michael and turin is janet) 
But anyway back to the POINT, (if there ever was one) the edain end up finding beleriand but beleriand isn’t the paradise they wanted. But hey, its not morgoth so let’s celebrate said the beorians before promptly getting found by finrod. And look elves did a lot of good for humans, but I also think there is this really bad dynamic of elves holding all the power and men just being in it for the ride. 
Ive made the joke that the elves of the first age are kind of like the edian’s sugar daddies but it’s kind of true. They give them land and like ‘wisdom’ (whatever the fuck that means) and in return men give them their ever increasing numbers. The Silm is a very elven story we don’t really get a lot of human, but when we do I think it’s pretty interesting. Because the relationship between Elves and Men is really uneven in the first age...and all ages even though in later ages forces of men like numenor at their height could I think easily sweep the floor with the elves of the second age combined. I think culturally Elves give a lot more, like men end up picking up their language, though im one hundred percent sure human languages didn’t die out and never do, humans must have shit talked elves a LOT in taliska (oh yes, that is the name of at least the language spoken by the hadorians and beorians, the people of haleth spoke a different dialect) and I think a lot of humans give more in resources (aka men, power, infantry). I mean personally if I was having at a guess I don’t think (as the latecomers) men got very many places to actually farm and have good land and relied on elvish goods to survive. I think this unevenness kind of spurred this idea that ‘elvishness = superior’, so to make this full circle I think a lot of pre edain culture was lost to make place for diet pepsi version of elf culture that we see human cultures like numenor and gondor have, because that’s better than their orn because elves are SPECIal BETTER AND DON’T DIE LIKE US BROKEN AND FALLEN PEOPLE.  ((screams)) 
Okay let’s talk about the death thing. Human and Mortal and Men all mean the same thing, humans die is not a statement that should be up for debate. But the humans of edain, at least from what we see of Andreth is that this was not how it always was. Humans were once immortal like the elves until they were bad and listened to morgoth and then they became mortal and all sick and ew. 
yeahhhh, I don’t think thats true. I think in-universe its a great myth. I love finrod ah andreth for this reason (also andreth is tolkien’s best female character he ever created and the fact that she’s not in the published silm is why we are in the bad timeline) , but I think humans...always were mortal. 
And thats okay. 
We talked about human ambition above, I think that is fueled by the fact that we all die. We have a timer, so we have to do things now, and that’s not a bad mindset to have. I think it gets humjans into trouble but also, imagine your a human in beleriand, you have children, a family, they might have children someday you want to do what you need to do to make sure THEY have a chance. 
(also lets talk about the fucked up fact that humans are punished for lsitening to morgoth in the first place like im sorry that humans didnt have any other valar looking for them, there was no orome, no fucking chance that they could have met anyone else because no valar came for them only morgoth with his lies so yes humans are bad for listening to the only god like entity that seemed like he wanted to help them, the elves did that too but they had nice gods so they are wise while humans who have illness and sickness and death over their heads listen to a guy with power okay jirt i see your double fuckig stnarad and its STUPID) 
And you can’t wait for that chance, so you leap. I think this is best illustrated by Turin of all people. Turin gets called elvish a lot in looks but in actions, he, like most of his family, are allllllllll human. The bridge in nargothrand even though it’s stupid and ends up horribly kind of reminds me of this. Turin doesn’t have time to wait like Gwindor, and Orodreth, etc do. his people have already been fucking disomated, he’s lost his father, his mother is trapped in enemy territory.  He wants to help. 
Sure it blows up in his face, but yknow...the want to do good is there. 
I think on the whole humans get a bad rep...like they’re called stupid and dumb and ugly by both fandom and in universe elves alike. But I don’t think that’s the case. Humans have a lot more balls and have collectively been through more trauma as a species than I think all of the elves (especially valinorian) elves combined. I think when humans fuck up, whether it be turin or numenor, it’s proof of their incompetence, that their inante (eru-given ability) to have ambition to seek beyond the world they live in for something better for something more is evil and they should be more like the elves, stagnant, already at the height of ‘perfection’, never changing....instead of being humans. Like look at these fools trying to act like than can be GOOD at something, sit down and let these elves be best at everything obviously. How many of you would look at me funny if I said, maybe the race of men was BETTER THAN THE ELVES AT SOMETHING? A lot of you im sure, and someone would have a rebuttle for how I was wrong and how this elf was considered the best. 
(like that post going around how could turin actually be #that pretty to thot his way through all of beleriand? Maybe he just Was like that, sure he may have a little elvish ness but honestly I think that be a funny thing elves say to cover up the fact some elves found a icky human was actually just that fucking hot, because obviously humans could never be that actually hot ever, not to intangle a sindarin mast of a guard, a NOLDORIAN VANYAR-DESSCENT PRINCESS, ect) 
Also just to go back to numenor, ever want an example of why it doesnt work for men to act like elves...look at numenor, early numenor was as elvish as humans could produce....but then they got bored. And then numneor became an empire and everyone eventually had so much of a bad time, eru reshaped the fucking world just to wipe the valar’s ‘humans but better’ ocs off the face of the planet. Like just to stray off topic I personally think men can’t go to valinor 1) because the two trees are actually nuclear, and the whole damn island is chernobyl instant death right there and thats why the valinor elves are like #that (they GLOW for gods shake) 2) the monotonous never changing perfection of valinor while amazing in the short term for humans would eventually drive them crazy. Not to say that the race of men doesn’t like some peace and quite or even humans (like myself) can be obverse to change, even I can admit doing the same thing ever day would drive me crazy. 
This got super rambly, but its been a lot of thoughts Ive been having for a long ass time. Basically, I just want people to talk to me about the atani, edian, race of men, whatever you want to call them. They deserve a lot better and a lot more respect than just playing a supporting role to the elves. 
They didn’t kill all those dragons to be ignored like this. 
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One Entirely Haphazard Arrangement (Tim Murphy x Reader) [Pt. 1]
A/N: Ok so this is longggg overdue and I apologize for taking so damn long to post this. I think I said I would write this in early July but I just got so caught up in the story and turned it into a whole three part fic...oh yeah, and I sort of moved to college so that took away some of my time 😂 but it’s finally here! I sort of struggled with this one because I haven’t creatively written anything in so long but it was really fun to write and I'm looking forward to writing more in the future! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this silly little friends-to-lovers Tim fic! Parts 2 and 3 will be up within the next few days. Again, sorry if this is trashhh
Words: Roughly 3.9k
Warnings: cursing, stress/anxious habits, cringeee writing?, I guess a Jersey Boys reference if for some reason you resent the jukebox musical or Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons
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You have always had this infuriating habit of excessively scratching at the back of your hand like a cat attacking a toy laced with catnip whenever you become particularly anxious about the current state of your life.
And working at your newly appointed job as co-director of the art department at the museum has certainly proven to be more than stressful enough over these last eight months.
Whether it has you tumbling out of bed before the sun rises to make sure that that damned office projector is working in time for a 6 o’ clock meeting that your boss decided to throw together at the last minute or facing certain embarrassment upon being woken up by the night-watch guard because of a silly intention to stay after for only a few more minutes to finish editing one of your interns’ research reports, you had completely sacrificed any regard for your own basic health at this point for the sake of your job and its lingering promise of a future promotion.
A promotion that could potentially be awaiting you at the other end of your boss’ door in just under half an hour.
A promotion that could finally lead to the publication of the passion project that you’ve been steadily working on since your early college days.
A promotion that has you relying on old habits again as you scratch at the back of your hand under your cluttered office desk and stare down the hands of the clock on the wall across from you like your life depends on it.
Tick. Tick. Ticking away among the plethora of familiar noises that make up the busy atmosphere of your department. Drowning out the occasional flutter of footsteps stumbling down the hallway or the quiet laughs of your coworkers walking out of yet another dreadful planning session or even the absurdly shrill screeching sound that the copier down the hall likes to make every single time someone dares to use it.
Swiftly swallowing up all signs of life that surround you as your throat starts to feel like it’s closing in on itself and your breathing turns into something that more closely resembles gasping.
You’re just too good to be true...
Can’t take my eyes off of you...
And then so suddenly, a voice breaks through the numbness that has almost paralyzed you and reality starts to bleed back into place—a beacon of hope.
You’d be like heaven to touch...
I wanna hold you so much...
It takes a while for you to place the source of the voice as the all-to-familiar sound of your Jersey Boys ringtone blaring out from your phone across the room, but once you finally bring yourself back into a state of complete clarity, you rush out of your chair and stumble towards the singing object, desperate for a distraction.
Without bothering to glance at the name flashing across the screen, you answer the call and bring the phone up to your ear, eager to listen to whatever will take your mind off of that ticking clock.
“Hello?”
“Uh—Hey (Y/N), it’s Tim…”
A smile instantly rises across your face as you recognize the voice of your cute neighbor, Tim Murphy.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting something...I know how busy you’ve been with work lately”
“No—no, it’s fine...you’re fine,” You chime in awkwardly, attempting to reassure him as a familiar fuzzy feeling begins to spread across your entire body.
To say that you had practically fallen hopelessly in love with the paleontologist   ever since you accidentally attempted to break into his apartment at 3 a.m. in a half-asleep daze that led you to believe that you weren’t just one door off would be an understatement. That was an embarrassing introduction, to say the least.
“So...what’s up? Is everything alright?” You honestly hadn’t expected Tim to call you at this time of day...or really ever, seeing as how both of your work schedules are so chaotic that you only ever really interact with each other in the dead of the night, so this was a pleasant surprise.
“Yeah, yeah—everything’s great—It’s just...well, I don’t want to startle you or anything but when I got home from work, I found Stevie prancing around outside on my balcony again and—”
Your heart instantly drops into your stomach and you’re suddenly met with the urge to bang your head against a wall from the sudden embarrassment,
“Ah shit! I’m such a clumsy idiot! I probably left my bedroom window open again…”
“No, it’s okay! Don’t worry! Stuff like this happens to everyone. Stevie’s perfectly fine now! I actually just brought her inside my apartment. Poor thing was shivering so I gave her some food and that pretty much cheered her up instantly” Tim chuckles into the phone, causing your cheeks to flush a light shade of pink.
“Oh god, she’s gonna be so mad at me!” You groan as your head begins to feel like it’s spinning from all the guilt and nerves overwhelming you, “I’m so so sorry, Tim. Thanks for rescuing her from my clumsy antics”
“No need to apologize,” Tim laughs again, which doesn’t exactly help with your lightheadedness, “It’s the least I could do. I mean, especially after all those times you’ve looked after my house plants while I was away on a dig”
“You do have a point, Tim Murphy. What would you or your precious house plants ever do without me?” You tease lightly, attempting to calm your nerves, and pulling another angelic laugh from the other end of the phone.
“No, but in all seriousness,” You continue, “I’m going to make it up to you somehow...No ifs, ands, or buts, Murphy!
Tim groans playfully from the other end of the phone and you shake your head with a smirk before a sudden voice cuts through the uneasy silence of your office and the endearing moment abruptly ceases.
“Miss (L/N), Dr. Vaughn has requested that you head down to his office for that meeting now”
You let out another disgruntled sigh before nodding to the kind intern peeking his head through your office doorway,
“Ugh sorry to cut this short, Tim, but I have something kinda important to discuss with my boss right now and I really can’t afford to screw it up...” You trail off with a sigh, not wanting to end the call so soon.
“Oh...alright—yeah...that’s totally fine—I understand...” Tim rambles, sympathy laced within his voice,
“Good luck! I’m sure everything will go smoothly. I believe in you!”
You let out another nervous laugh, your cheeks now entirely red as you take in his words of encouragement, “Thanks for the kind words...and for taking care of Stevie! I’ll stop by to pick her up whenever I get out of this place”
You say your final goodbyes and end the call, shakily placing your phone back down onto your desk before finally making your way towards your boss’ office, scratching at the back of your hand again.
——————————————————————————————————
“I’m sorry...Are you serious?! This has to be some sort of sick joke…right?” You gawk at your boss, your body shaking in aggravation and utter disbelief.
However, he just simply smirks at you and shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly as his eyes switch between you and your...colleague.
“Dr. Vaughn, don’t you think you’re taking this a little too far?!” You groan in exasperation, shifting your eyes to take a look at your fellow co-director: the one coworker that just so happens to also be your ex.
Yes, your ex, Charles.
The one that abandoned you while you were away on a business trip, moving out of your shared apartment overnight all for his new blonde assistant...cliche and all.
The reason that you’ve worked so hard in this job for the past year of your life.
Not to win him back or follow through with some crude form of revenge—you weren’t at all that type of person.
But to gain back the sense of integrity that he had so swiftly stomped on and finally prove him wrong: to prove to yourself that you are, in fact, good enough.
“I don’t see anything inherently wrong with a little healthy competition, Miss (L/N)”
Your boss speaks up, calmly, the smirk across his face only widening as he looks up at you from his enormous office chair.
“I’m just not particularly fond of the idea that one of us ends up completely jobless by the end of this!”
“Oh please, (Y/N), calm down”
Charles finally speaks up from beside you, causing you to roll your eyes and dig your fingernails into your palms from the sheer rage that now seemed to be pulsating throughout your entire being,
“I’m sure whoever gets the short end of the stick in this...arrangement can always turn to the other for a raving recommendation letter after they track down and apply to whatever museum establishment that’s desperate enough to hire them after this”
The shared dark laughter that escapes the both of them at his sad attempt to reassure you only makes your stomach curl in disgust. How can he just be okay with all of this?
“Honestly, all you have to do is write an introductory speech that addresses the latest contemporary art exhibition for the museum’s annual winter gala next Saturday. That gives you both the same amount of time to prepare your material and secure dates for the event, so I think this whole competition sounds pretty fair to me”
“But Dr. Vaughn—“
Your boss abruptly cuts you off, again, “I will allow you both five minutes. Mr. Sterling, you’ll go first before introducing your fellow co-director to the stage, then Miss (L/N) will give her speech before calling me up to the stage. Whoever gives the best speech in reference to the new exhibition will be promoted to head director of this museum’s contemporary art department...and the other will unfortunately be let go from their current position”
You let out an aggravated sigh, which prompts Charles to smirk in your direction,
“And that’s final! Now, get the hell out of my office!”
——————————————————————————————————
The journey home couldn’t have been more painstakingly difficult.
First, you missed your usual train and had to wait a whole 45 minutes for the next one. Then, it began to rain as soon as you started walking down the street towards your apartment and just as your doorman graciously greeted your shaking figure as you scurried into the building, you remembered that the stack of paperwork that you had planned to finish up was locked away...in your desk...back at the museum.
And now, as you trudge down the hallway of your apartment floor, soaked head to toe from the rain, your heart begins to race as you make your way in front of Tim Murphy’s door and muster up the courage to knock.
It only takes a few minutes for the door to open, but once it finally does, you’re met with the sight of an adorable, half-asleep paleontologist that makes you feel like you could melt into the floor at any given moment.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming”
You chuckle halfheartedly at him, a tired smile making its way across your face regardless of the pounding sensation in your head and the ringing sounds in your ears. Tim always seems to have that effect on you.
“Sorry, I had a long day” You mutter, cheekily.
Tim hums amusedly before moving to the side to let you in,
“I was fully prepared to take Stevie in as my own, actually. I have an extra cat bed and everything. I’m sure she’d get along just fine with Lydia”
You enter the apartment and spot your beloved cat sleeping cozily under the breakfast table near the kitchen, curled up right next to Tim’s orange tabby.
You smile at the sight, taking your wet shoes off before plopping down onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter, exhausted.
“Honestly, you make a better parent than I could ever be” You chuckle, glancing towards Tim as he sets down a glass of water in front of you. His disheveled hair and slightly pouting mouth causes a blush to grow across your cheeks again as you’re reminded of something,
“Sorry if my late arrival woke you up”
He shakes his head at you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face,
“It’s okay, I wasn’t exactly...asleep. I had to finish up some last minute research in preparation for an excavation in Arizona next week”
Next week. Fuck.
You chug the water in front of you, abruptly, before placing the cup back down onto the counter and burying your face into your hands. Your mind spiraling with thoughts about the impending winter gala and him.
“So...I’m assuming that that conversation with your boss didn’t go over very well”
You groan in acknowledgement, before glancing back up at the attentive paleontologist,
“You could say that,” You laugh, sarcastically, “Hell, I may not even have a job by the time next week rolls around”
This seems to get Tim’s attention, because he leans closer to you from the other side of the kitchen counter and your breath hitches in your throat when you notice the way his biceps flex from underneath his sweatshirt.
“Well now you have to tell me what happened” He exclaims, with a tone of genuine curiosity.
You almost can’t formulate a response when you realize just how close your hands are from each other, so you muster out a weak cough and casually begin to play with the empty glass in front of you.
It’s just a hand, (Y/N). Just a nice, particularly soft-looking hand that just so happens to belong to your incredibly brilliant and handsome neighbor, Tim Murphy. Calm down.
“Well, my boss has always been one to enjoy watching people suffer before rewarding them” You sigh in frustration as you recall the last few hours of your day,
“I thought I was walking into his office to finally receive the promotion that I’ve been working day and night over for the last eight months,” You continue, running a finger across the rim of the glass repeatedly, as anxiety starts to rise within your chest again,
“And I suppose my suspicions were right” You chuckle, sadly, “but he ended up making the so-called promotion a competition between my ex and I”
You bite your lip in frustration, the wounds inflicted from the previous conversation still fresh on your mind.
“Wait—you’re not talking about…” Tim trails off in disbelief and you nod your head in confirmation.
Tim Murphy was well acquainted with the sheer emotional damage that Charles had put you through. In fact, after the break-up, it was Tim that so graciously convinced you to get the hell out of bed and resume the rest of your life after coming over to your apartment due to another mail mix-up. While you took a well-needed shower, Tim prepared a nice spaghetti dinner and put on some comedy show for the both of you to watch aimlessly as you attempted to catch up on what the rest of the world was doing after it had seemingly crashed all around you. That night definitely didn’t do anything to alleviate your growing feelings for him.
“Wow” His head tilts in slight surprise, “That’s so unfair!”
“Right! That’s exactly what I said to my boss but he wasn’t having any of it” You scoff as you recall the aggravating image of your boss’ smirking face.
“And now I have to work my ass off trying to write a decent introduction speech commemorating our latest exhibition for the winter gala. Oh! And I have to find a date to the stupid thing with only a weeks notice! Where in the world am I going to find a date to this event with only a weeks notice in this city!?”
You were starting to freak out now, pulling on some strands of damp hair that you had somehow managed to wrap entirely around your fingers as you tried to make sense of your unfortunate predicament.
“I could be your date.”
The words fall from Tim’s mouth so abruptly and effortlessly that it takes a few seconds for you to register their meaning.
“What?”
“Well...I think I still have a nice suit lying around here somewhere from my last work event. Plus, I’ve been to my fair share of museum galas, so it won’t be much of a hassle. I could be your date.”
“Tim, you really don’t have to do this! I mean—What about the excavation to Arizona? You can’t miss out on that! I would feel so bad if I made you miss out on that trip all because of this stupid arrangement” You’re blushing now at his offer and suddenly the wall next to his head is very captivating.
“When exactly is this winter gala anyways?”
“Saturday at 6 p.m.”
A smug, satisfied grin stretches across Tim’s face as he leans even closer to you and the redness across your cheeks grows when your eyes meet,
“I get back Friday night. It’ll be fine.”
You sigh in guilt, not wanting to overstep, “Are you absolutely certain about this? I guarantee you’ll be exhausted once you get back and I don’t wanna drag you into another tedious social event right after a week of strenuous excavation work”
“I mean if you want me to memorize some cue cards, I’m all for that...but I think I have enough experience under my belt from high school theatre group to properly wing it”
You chuckle at his lame attempt to humor you, but your resolve remains undeterred,
“And you’re 100% positive that you’re okay with staying by my side all night, in formal dress attire, chatting up a storm with just about any and most likely all of my colleagues over strictly art related stuff? It’s an exhausting experience.”
Tim shrugs his shoulders, the amused, stubborn grin never leaving his face,
“Like I said before, I go to museum galas all the time, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
You let out another exasperated sigh in defeat, standing up from your stool at the counter and walking towards the fridge to fill your glass again. A shiver runs down your spine and you want to blame the wet nature of your clothes but you know from the shakiness of your fingers carrying the glass and the heat radiating off your cheeks that it’s because of the close proximity between Tim’s face and yours just moments ago.
“Fine. You can be my date. But I seriously cannot thank you enough for what you’re doing for me, Tim Murphy. I really have done nothing but complain to you all evening and now you’re swooping in and saving my ass again. What—Do I have to sell you my soul this time to properly repay my debt?”
Tim chuckles, turning around to look at you again.
“Luckily for you, I’m feeling generous enough to let you keep your soul for just a little while longer. But seriously, don’t feel pressured to repay me.”
You open your mouth to protest but the words are silenced by the sound of thunder rumbling from just outside the apartment, shaking the floor beneath your feet.
“Shit! I completely forgot that it’s raining,” Tim gestures towards your clothes, his eyes wide with concern, “You must be freezing!”
You blush again as you glance down towards your damp clothes, “Oh no! It’s fine, I sort of forgot about it too...I’m not—”
You trail off when you realize that Tim is no longer standing right in front of you, only to hear the sound of him rummaging through his laundry machine.
You grin widely as you’re reminded of just how insistently kind and compassionate he can be.
He sort of stumbles back into the kitchen from a clumsy attempt at speed-walking, and before you realize it, he’s wrapping a warm bath towel around your shoulders and rubbing the material up and down your arms to help you dry off.
The grin on your face only widens and you lock your eyes onto the floor, hoping to hide the now stark red state of your blushing cheeks.
“Jeez, Tim, you really didn’t have to go through all that trouble, but thanks” You mumble, trying to keep yourself composed.
Tim only laughs in exasperation at your comment, “What kind of host would I be if I let you freeze to death?”
You glance back up at him, attempting to ignore the way that your breath hitches when you notice the close proximity of your faces again,
“Well...technically I forced you to invite me when I stupidly left my bedroom window open this morning…” You trail off when Tim gives you a pointed look, as if to say: You’re always welcome here, regardless of the circumstances.
Your gaze drops to the floor again as another rumble of thunder shakes the whole apartment, and the grin returns to your face when you make out the smallest detail of a mini brachiosaurus on the bath towel,
“Why am I not surprised that you have your own personalized dino bath towels, Tim Murphy”
He laughs bashfully and you glance up to take in the sight. His eyes meet yours and you smile back at each other for what feels like a lifetime, your heart pounding in your chest as the space between the two of you almost seems to get smaller and smaller until...you’re interrupted by the feeling of something fluffy brushing across your feet and the familiar purring sound of your cat, Stevie.
“I should probably go. You need your rest and I need to get started on the first draft of my speech. I gotta get a head start on that asshole, at the very least.”
Tim chuckles understandably and the towel leaves your shoulders, taking the warmth that had so swiftly flooded your body with it.
“Yeah, you’re probably right, I should go to bed and you should start writing a very important introduction speech at one in the morning”
Your eyes widen and Stevie lets out another loud purring noise, as if amused by your blatant clumsiness,
“What the fuck?! I swear it was just 11:30”
Tim only shrugs again in amusement and you promptly lean down to scoop up your cat from the ground in an attempt to hide the blush that seemed to now be permanently etched across your cheeks, desperate for a chance to leave before you could embarrass yourself any further.
“Thanks again, Tim...for everything! I guess I’ll see you next weekend...” You mumble out the words quickly, flashing Tim an awkward smile as you put your slightly damp shoes back onto your feet. 
“(Y/N)...”
“Oh right, and good luck with your Arizona excavation...I just know you’ll discover something truly spectacular this time!” You’re shuffling towards the front door now, silently praying that the sound of your heart pounding against your chest isn’t loud enough for Tim to hear.  
“Thanks, I’ll see-”
But you don't even let him finish before you promptly shut the door behind you, feeling equally elated as you do terrified about the week ahead of you and the absurdity of this entirely haphazard arrangement. 
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