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#my parents very much had the right idea to not let me get a cell phone until high school
slydiddledeedee · 1 year
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I’m not a parent so I really have no authority to say this but it makes me so sad whenever I see a little kid with a phone or iPad or some other piece of distracting technology…I think it’s going to be so rough on those kids once they reach middle and high school and if they or people around them don’t stop the cycle they will become very sad, very unfulfilled adults. Giving a child a tool that plays endless videos on stupid stuff is doing far more damage than it’s worth
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lovelylogans · 9 months
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the parent trap
the masterpost
“So,” Remus says slowly. “If your Dad is my Dad…”
“...and your Pa is my Papa…”
Remus stares at the seam of the wedding photo, made whole again after more than a decade. His Pa, Patton, familiar with his cowboy-handsome, weather-beaten face and his dimpled grin and his big, calloused hand resting over his new husband’s, even if Remus has never seen him look this smitten ever. 
“And we’re both born on October 11… then, Roman. You and I are… like… brothers.”
And his Dad—Janus—smiling coyly, handsome in the way of magazine models, so completely a stranger to Remus with just this scrap of a photograph to serve as any way to know him, really know him. The way Roman knows him. The way Remus has been dying to know him all his life.
“Remus,” Roman breathes out, disbelieving. “We aren’t just brothers. We’re twins.”
Remus wonders, in a daze, if seeing the opposite life he could have had is as strange for Roman as it is for him… if they’d just been switched at birth, it’s the life Remus could have had, knowing his Dad instead of his Pa, but then…
But then it clicks.
“Roman,” he says, turning to grin at his brother—his brother! “I have a completely perfect, totally awesome idea!”
or: it's a parent trap AU for @tss-storytime with fanart by @tastic-in-its-finest!
warnings: pranks and practical jokes, smoking, drinking, brief mentions of underage drinking (in the context of a child trying a sip of wine), sibling rivalry and bonding, please let me know if i've missed any!
pairings: janus/patton, logan/virgil, brief patton/male oc
word count: 80k
notes: a few notes before we begin: first, thanks so much to morgan for their fanart for this fic!!! it's so cute, please like and reblog and do all that fun stuff!!! second, thanks to the folks over at the big bang for organizing this whole event—i know firsthand how complicated that can get, and you are so appreciated!!! this is technically a '90s au, but a '90s au in terms of the fashion and lack of social media/cell phones, not any of the homophobia. i hope you all enjoy!!!!
chapter one: prologue Across the world from each other, two very different families help two very similar boys pack their bags.
chapter two: welcome to camp walden! Welcome to what we like to think of as the most beautiful spot on God's green earth—Camp Walden.
chapter three: en garde The boys come to blows. (With practice épées, but in their minds, it’s equally as serious.)
chapter four: riposte The boys come to blows. (With words and stitching.)
chapter five: black card The boys come to blows. (With a temporary reversal of gravity, oodles of chocolate sauce, and finally, some semblance of adult interference.)
chapter six: isolation station The boys spend a great deal of their time considering coming to blows. Until suddenly, they don’t want to fight at all anymore.
chapter seven: operation augustus The realization of having an identical twin does quite a bit to spur some out-of-the-box levels of creativity.
chapter eight: let's get down to business! The boys begin to plot. Camp Walden trembles in fear.
chapter nine: to defeat… the family civil divisions of napa and london respectively! The boys plot. The world all over ought to be trembling in fear.
chapter ten: domine dirige nos Remus spends a great deal of time weighing the most British way to say hello. He’s going to have to repress throwing in a what’s all this then, guv’nor? the entire time.
chapter eleven: eureka! Roman spends a great deal of time weighing the most American way to say hello. He thinks he probably shouldn’t come right out of the gate with howdy, y’all!
chapter twelve: a wench in the works This absolutely was not in their multitude of blueprints!
chapter thirteen: riding is magic and friendship is power and love is everything to everyone Roman gets to meet his pony. He should, by all rights, be much more excited about it, but someone had to go and ruin it for him.
chapter fourteen: in which virgil attempts to hold a poker face (and fails miserably) Virgil curses being so observant.
chapter fifteen: all of my change spent on you Remus has a particularly fun run-in. Well. Fun for him.
chapter sixteen: so your sons have swapped places and are in foreign countries This particular subject was not covered in the parenting books.
chapter seventeen: hopped off the plane at lax with a dream of civil reconciliation with my ex-husband Remus plots. Grandfather aids and abets. Janus panics. Logan suffers them all.
chapter eighteen: small world and getting smaller Janus is officially the father of the two most troublesome twins in the galaxy.
chapter nineteen: you got me tripping, stumbling! sinking, fumbling! Patton makes a splash.
chapter twenty: the queen elizabeth the second the second The twins attempt to revive the past. The parents wish to change it.
chapter twenty-one: i said a boom chicka boom! Logan’s swept off his feet. As is Maddox, in an entirely different way.
chapter twenty-two: i said a boom GO TO YOUR ROOM The twins’ plots bear oh-so-satisfying fruit.
chapter twenty-three: where dreams have no end A hello, a goodbye.
chapter twenty-four: the concorde(ance) A goodbye, a hello.
chapter twenty-five: epilogue Two very similar boys help their two very different families assimilate into one.
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chiliiscereal · 2 years
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Hi! Sorry, it's me again ;-; I was just wondering how would the boys react at a s/o who's always making self-deprecating jokes
No don’t be sorry! You can keep on sending them if you like lol I love it XD I also take one shots ideas and any questions you might have!
Also I’m starting on the next chosen last lol I’ve been busy for a while
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Rottmnt headcanon: self deprecating humorous S/O
————-
Raph:
-right off the bat he ain’t gonna let that fly
-when he first heard your jokes he thought you were being serious
-let me tell you one thing: Raph can’t stand when anyone says anything awful about you
-even if it’s you that’s saying it
-“bro this show is so sad!” Leo commented dramatically as you all watched the ending of the titanic.
You, cuddled up to Raph, couldn’t help but take the opportunity. “Not as sad as my future.”
He stopped watching the movie and turned to you, mouth open. “Don’t say that!”
“Raph it’s a joke-!”
“Your future ain’t sad! It’s beautiful and you’re so smart and if you think it won’t be then-!”
“RAPH!”
-he finally caught on that it was a joke and he calmed down
-but still, he hated it whenever you joked like that
-it made him feel like you didn’t love yourself!
-sure he loved you enough for the both of you but still!
-he tried to stop reacting to it but most of your humor was based on self roasts
-he tried to bite his tongue and ignore it
-he tried paying attention to something else
-anyone else
-but it was very hard
-finally, he took it to you himself
-“hey, babe, can you... maybe try to stop making fun of yourself like that?” He asked cautiously as he sat beside you on his bed.
You frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know, jokes like ‘oh this didn’t work out guess I’ll go kill myself’ or ‘this frog has as many brain cells as I do. Dang I feel sorry for it.’”
“Ohhhh... come on those are just jokes!”
“Could you try to stop? Listen... I love you so much. I can’t stand to hear you say anything like that about yourself. Okay?”
-when Raph told you that, you did your best from then on out to stop
-he knew you were trying so he refrained from reacting if any jokes slipped out
-of course, sometimes you would say a joke like that just to get him to hit you with a pillow
-it was all in good fun
-it never ended well for you tho
-come on.
-going against someone THAT tall and with THAT kind of build?
-yeah... all the pillows within a ten mile radius had their insides all over the floor by the time he was done pelting you with them
-splinter always made the two of you repair them but you didn’t mind
-it was an excuse to be with Raph even more
Donnie-
-honestly your humor is not too different from his
-you’re both sarcastic
-you both have dry humor
-the only difference is that his humor is always to make him look good
-yours always brings yourself down
-he knew it was always a joke but he never knew how to take it
-he couldn’t correct you seriously because then his ‘bad boy image’ would be ruined
-but you... his non synthetic darling... saying all gathers things about yourself?
-he couldn’t take it
-but how could he get you to stop without asking?
-he briefly considered bringing back the machine that temporarily made his brothers smarter so he could change it to make you stop saying those things...
-but he learned his lesson the last time
-if only it were that easy
-so he spent a couple nights on the computer, searching up how to make someone stop making self deprecating jokes
-he was going to have all his data together and bring it to you as an intervention ONLY when he was ready
-sadly that didn’t happen
-you walked into his lab and noticed he was busy reading an article. Thinking nothing of it you skipped over and stood behind him to read over his shoulder. You frowned when you read the title: “how to stop self deprecation in your teenagers.”
You snorted, startling him out of his peaceful sitting. “Donnie, what is this?” You featured loosely to the screen as you sent him a playful glare. “This is a parenting article.”
He finally caught his breath and turned back to the computer guiltily. “Yes yes I know... I was just... trying to stop Sheldon from getting mouthy with me.”
You raised a brow. “You sure that’s it?”
He nodded and avoided eye contact. “Yes that’s it. Its nothing.”
“So if you were to compare my IQ and what you were doing it’s both nothin-?”
He stood up quickly. “That’s it! See that’s the problem! I’m just tired of you always saying this about yourself! Sure it’s a parenting article but that’s all I could find!”
-Dang he was on a rant for probably twenty minutes
-once he was finally done you decided to give it a try
-after all he was clearly bothered by this
-more than he cared to admit
-so you sat down with him and looked up ways to stop
-he tried to make you do that rubber band trick people used to break bad habits but you drew the line there
-you two made due tho
-(he slowly got you using a type of humor more like his: one that made you talk about yourself in a better light)
Leo:
-the first time he heard you say a joke that wasn’t in your favor he thought it was pretty hilarious
-until you kept going
-sure it was funny at first but he only wanted to hear so much of it
-he adored you!
-you were his and he loved you to death!
- he decided to shower you with affection every time you were negative
- you lounged on the couch, waiting for something interesting to happen. You sighed “this is more boring than my love life- AH!”
Leo jumped on top of you.
“Leo get OFF!”
“You’re so beautiful, babe.”
“Im a goblin now get off!”
*cuddles even more violently*
- everything you tried resulted in violent attention
-one thing about how you looked lead to rapid fire kisses being peppered onto your face
-a word about your personality cause you to be wrapped into a blanket with him for over ten minutes
-you stopped very fast when he started picking you up and carrying you away from whatever conversation you dropped your dry humor into
-still whenever you want attention or you’re simply missing him, all you have to do is text him that you’re ugly and he’s at your window
Mikey:
-you tried once
-it got you sat down with Dr. Delicate Touch for an hour
-somehow Mikey had a presentation already ready
- it was both informational and terrifying
- he loves you so much and he doesn’t want to hear you say anything bad
-anytime you start up again he slips his Dr. Delicate Touch glasses on and gives you a look
-you always stop right away and go back to painting with him or whatever activity you two were doing together
- it stopped really fast
-well, the saying the jokes in front of Mikey did
-he somehow always managed to catch you though
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mdhwrites · 4 months
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When I watched Amphibia, I kinda had a hard time understanding how certain headcanons were developed in the fandom. Especially Grime being Sasha's 'toad dad' and Olivia and Yunan being Marcy's 'newt moms.'
Like...by the end of the series, I totally bought Sasha and Grime as close friends (heck, they sold me as friends partway through season two), but Grime never gave 'adoptive dad' vibes to me. Putting aside the fact Grime's the reason Sasha spent her first month in Amphibia in a cell, he's also a pretty toxic influence on her, indulging her worst traits and only really improving as a person when he and Sasha form the resistance in season three.
And I'm confident viewers only started the 'newt moms' headcanon because of the episode Olivia & Yunan. Which is pretty ironic, since in that episode, Yunan initially objects to saving Marcy (she didn't even refer to Marcy by her name, just 'the human' XD), and like you said, Olivia explicitly states she's motivated to save Marcy because she trusts her and thinks her intelligence will help them defeat Andrias, not because Marcy is someone she's emotionally attached to.
Sure, in The Hardest Thing, Olivia and Yunan hug Marcy goodbye, so there was clearly some fondness for her by the end, but nowhere near familial feelings. And yeah, maybe you could argue Olivia cared for Marcy since she insisted on being 'gentle' when Marcy was being pulled out of the tank, but that's just basic decency; hardly 'adoptive mother' behaviour.
With all that in mind, why do you think so many got so hooked on the idea of these people being found families for Sasha and Marcy? Did they think Sasha and Marcy both 'deserved' a found family just because Anne got that with the Plantars? Did they just like the idea, even if canon did almost nothing to validate it?
I personally think it's because a lot of people thought Sasha and Marcy's parents were abusive (another headcanon I can't get behind), and believed they deserved to find 'better' families in Amphibia. But that's my take; what's yours?
So there's a LOT here to potentially discuss because you're not wrong in saying that it's a dubious claim. Let's start with just my thoughts on them being found families: I like Grime as Sasha's father figure in works but it is much more a mentor and student relationship but where who is doing which is very dubious. The two need each other but how much one or the other need each other is constantly shifting and it's part of what makes their dynamic interesting. Trying to place a specific label on them is rough and I'd agree that saying that Grime is Sasha's first healthy friendship would be accurate because of the push and pull there.
Yunan and Olivia are great in fanworks as having had a real relationship with Marcy but the show just doesn't support it. Yunan seems to look down on her and barely know her while Olivia is a very normal archtype of the proper, Victorian woman who has to deal with childish antics. Neither are bad characters for it but it does mean that the moment in the end with her hugging Yunan and Olivia is more for the sake of a curtain call than it is a big relationship being wrapped up. They honestly symbolize Newtopia, which Marcy definitely should still love, rather than their actual characters in that hug and I think that works.
Now, why are they called found families?
Well, the first reading for why is honestly what I'd probably put my money on: It's a popular trope and people liked the dynamics enough to want to push it into the box they wanted it to be. Like how TOH is praised for its found family despite the family doing so little together, it's a trope with poor definitions, is hard to disprove and is just roaring through fiction right now so its overuse as a term isn't surprising. The fact that it gets used to describe so many people with just dynamics in general (frankly, it feels like it's becoming harder to write best friends in fiction partially from this) makes me unsurprised that it is getting used here since Anne does absolutely get a found family with the Plantars.
Which does bring a second part in: It makes Sasha and Marcy more important. If they're going on similar journeys as Anne than they totally aren't there to help with the themes and the like, the journey is about them too! It brings them closer to being the focus of the story and as narratively important as Anne which, as we've seen, was a big deal to the fandom. I won't even call this bad, fandom will do as it does, but it does also end up diminishing just how big a deal it was for the Plantars to so thoroughly integrate Anne into their family and then how the Boonchuys recognize that work and accept them readily too. If it's as easy as it had to have been for Marcy, Yunan and Olivia, it kind of cheapens the core thrust of the show, almost like it focused on Anne for a reason.
The last one is... KIND OF what you brought up but I think it's a lot deeper than you frame it. I recognize that nowadays I am an outlier. I literally go and take a walk with my mom every morning, or I'm supposed to, to try and help her be more physically active. My problems with my parents are mostly due to my brain not being able to accept anyone actually approves of me, let alone people who's approval I care about. I am so very lucky to have good parents who I am happy to call my parents and who I am glad to have the support of.
All too many kids, even those not in the LGBTQIA+ but ESPECIALLY if they are, have bad family homes. They dream of being able to escape to a new world that's better than theirs, meet people who accept them for them and let them do cool things and be themselves. Escapism, especially isekai, is EXTREMELY popular for a reason, especially as just the world in general sucks, regardless of your relationship with your family.
So then we get Marcy and Sasha still going back. Them ALL going back because sometimes change is inevitable and not always can you bring the ones you care about with you. It's a powerful message that spits in the eye of that escapism and for a lot of people, that HURTS. Like for as much as I defend the choice, I do understand why so many in the fandom reacted negatively to it. For as much as they potentially didn't care about the Amphibians, they don't want to lose the froggy world that they wanted to live in themselves.
And so we get the projection of abusive parents. We get the toads and newts also being found families because it's so much worse to give those people up in your life than just saying bye to your friends. We get reasons why they should have stayed or at least been allowed to travel between worlds. This isn't even all inherently wrong, especially if you are willing to admit that there was a reason why the show chose the ending it did, even if you wish you could have the one that makes you happier.
Hell, we even see some of that with how people treat angst right here. They want Sasha and Marcy to have abusive parents... Because then they can be told it's okay to reject reality, be given a hug and then move on. Not to explore that abuse but to be given the wish fulfillment of that abuse being met with kindness which is admittedly how you should meet that stuff, please take abuse victims seriously and help them, but life is more complicated than that most of the time.
These are arguments I can understand and sympathize with though. I wish I could see someone using mental illness as now their superpower to be something that makes me happy because it WOULD be nice if my depression made me better than others. I just... don't quite engage with media that way though. It's actually part of what I think makes scripted content harder for me because I engage too genuinely and don't just want a pat on the head and a juice box.
And that isn't to say people who do want that are wrong. I still don't want to be actively hurt by the media I consume. I am still there to be entertained and happy and how that happens will be different for each person. That's part of the joy of life.
So I won't tell people who want Yunan and Olivia to be Marcy's lesbian moms they're bad for wanting that. Just don't tell me that's objectively what happened in the story since analysis and headcanon are genuinely different.
======+++++======
I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!
I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.
A Twitter you can follow too
And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.
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halfmoth-halfman · 9 months
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IM BACK IN THE FUCKING BUILDING AGAIN, EXCEPT THE BUILDING IS 141!!!!! LET'S GOOOOOOOOO BABY!!!
At first when I saw Canary had no gun wound, I was like - Did she not get shot??? Did someone else take the bullet for her??? (my memory do be bad, my bad - but the angst potential of someone else getting hurt in Canary's place...yummy) And then I was like, is she dead?? How's she gonna get her revenge on Graves and Makarov and Makarov's bratty daughter???😧
I'm glad you kept me on my toes with that lol.
Finally had an interaction with Adler.....in heaven. That talk was necessary for Canary, I think. I think nothing can motivate a jilted kid as much as their desire to enrage and spite their estranged parents. (Too relatable for me, cuz I'd have done the same lol) Even tho a lot of shit Adler said was unfounded, it did fuel the fire Canary needs to keep going, especially if she wishes to enact revenge on those who wronged her. And you wrote this scene beautifully! (but I also wonder if this talk, esp with Adler being all "Trust no one" would make Canary paranoid af and refuse any help from 141. Or maybe she'd accept their help in taking down Price/Makarov, but would be hella distant and try to remove herself from the entire '141 is family' thing they've got going on?)
And Price is now in jail cuz Graves framed him for attempted murder????? Oh hell to the nah!
Like idek what Price and Canary are now, after everything that has happened. But if Graves goes around framing my Price for something he did, they'd be hell to pay. I'd raise a fucking riot, bitch!
As always, amazing chapter. And I can only wait for what would happen next. Does Canary recover? Does she get Price out of jail? Does she have a run in with Makarov, or Graves? What would Shephard say to her if she just barged into the police station and demand him to release Price as he did not murder her, since she's standing in front of him....alive? So many questions and theories to ponder over, hm....Can hardly wait for where the story goes! Have a great weekend, Moth. You deserve it after serving us with such delicious fic updates <3333
- 🍄 anon
alskdjasdlas i'm sorry all i could think about from that first sentence is canary coming back from the dead and just being like:
eggman voice: "i've come to make an announcement. phillip graves is a bitch ass motherfucker!"
ok so before i decided canary was going to get shot, i toyed with the idea of someone take a bullet for her instead. there was a very brief moment, where this chapter was going to end in either price or ghost's death, but i love them both too much and they need to have their redemption so i couldn't do that to them LOL
i agree, i think it was necessary for canary. she needed that push from adler, someone to light that fire in her in a way that only he really knew how to do. he knows how to push her buttons, how to get under her skin in just the right way to get her to act, but this time she's taking things into her own hands. and like, of course, she wants to get revenge of graves for her own reasons but choosing to go back and break down her father's golden child just to spite him? if there's one thing the adler family is good at, it's being petty.
adler definitely left a lasting mark of paranoia on her, and i think she'd be hesitant to trust the 141 even if he didn't just because of the events of the past five months. however, she does know she's going to need their help at least while she recovers, so i don't think she'd immediately burn that bridge. though who's to say what she might do once she's back on her feet. i guess it would depend on if the 141 tries to make it up to her, and if she wants to be in a more forgiving mood 👀
price sure is in jail, i wonder what's going to happen there. the rest of the 141 seemed stressed and surprised to see canary awake, imagine price sitting in a cell for however many weeks thinking she's dead and it's all his fault. :)
i don't think even price and canary know what they are. they certainly know they aren't together, but i imagine price still has major feelings for her (now paired with a lovely glass of guilt) so it would probably be up to canary whether to try and rebuild that relationship or not.
it'll be interesting to see what graves tries to do, esp now that canary is def not dead and actively trying to take him down. even more, it'll be interesting to see what shepherd does in light of this new information.
so many questions and theories!!! i'm so excited to see what everyone comes up with in the time between chapters omg
thank you so much, and i hope you have an amazing day and week!! 💜
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wishfulwithwine · 2 years
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The Kids Are Alright - Bob Floyd One Shot Request
Bob Floyd x Wife Reader
Requested by @potashiuhm ! Took some creative liberties, but hope you like it :) 
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“Rooster! Thank god you answered. I need you to watch the kids. Both of our parents and our usual babysitter is busy. Get Phoenix  -whoever -  to help. Y/N fell on the kitchen floor, probably broke her ankle and I need to take her to the hospital” Bob said, frantically. Rooster could tell Bob had put him on speaker phone, as he heard Bob rushing around. 
“I’m fine! We don’t need the hospital” Rooster heard Y/N shout in the background, but Rooster was already getting into his Bronco to head over. He shot a quick text to the group explaining what was happening if anyone wanted to join him to babysit the Floyd’s babies.
“The amount of swelling on your ankle proves otherwise” Bob replied.
“Fine, fine. When’s Rooster getting here?” Y/N asked, a bit annoyed.
“I’ll be there in less than five. The gang’s all coming” Rooster replied, and Bob let out an audible sigh.
“Alright well, they’ve napped and ate so they should be fine. Just let me know if anything happens. I’ll have my cell with me” Bob started to say.
“Bob, the kids are going to be fine. Now I’m around the corner, I’ll see you soon” Rooster said, hanging up the phone.
As soon as Rooster pulled up in the driveway, he saw Bob carrying Y/N in his arms, her arms wrapped around his neck as his arms supported her back and legs in a bridal style carrying fashion. Rooster raised an eyebrow, looking at the large swollen ankle and Y/N, who was trying her best to not show how much pain she was in. Another car pulled up to the curb - Phoenix, Hangman and Coyote stepping out of the car. 
“Don’t give me that look, Rooster. Bob’s taking me to the hospital” Y/N said, as Rooster just shook his head, opening Bob’s car door so he could place Y/N in without difficulty. 
“Do I even want to know how this happened?” Rooster asked, teasing Y/N, as Bob went around and got into the car on his side.
“I slipped on something in the kitchen” Y/N admitted, as Bob started the car. The other Dagger team members had made their way to stand alongside Rooster.
“That’s what you get for not cleaning things up right away” Bob said, as the group laughed and watched them pull out of the driveway.
The team quickly went inside, looking to find the Floyd kids before something happened to them. Instantly, they saw the kids standing by the window, now looking at the remaining Dagger team curiously.
“Hey kids, your mom and dad had to go to the hospital. Everything’s fine, but your mom might’ve hurt her foot so we’re going to take care of you until you get home. Okay?” Phoenix said, in her best ‘motherly’ voice as she crouched down to be eye-level with the kids.The kids nodded.
Y/N and Bob had two kids: James and Charlotte. The team hadn’t interacted with them for a long period of time, so they had no idea what they would be like. James was 5 and Charlotte was 4, so they were still very young, but each kid looked almost identical to their parents. When the kids had joined their parents at naval events or team gatherings, the kids were usually with one of the parents, never far from their side. Y/N and Bob both had their families helping out a lot, and had a nanny to help as well. 
Y/N was a baker, owning her own bakery in town. To be honest, the team was more surprised an accident didn’t happen sooner with her messiness and occupation. In the couple, Y/N was the creative while Bob was more factual. As they say, opposites attract, and no one could say that the pair didn’t belong to each other. 
“So what do you two want to do?” Coyote asked, looking around.
“Read!”
“Bake!” Charlotte said at the same time as James said “Read”. The group all looked to each other.
“How about we can bake some cupcakes for your mom, and then while they’re cooking, we can read? Or Bradley and I can bake cupcakes with Charlotte and Hangman and Coyote can read with James?” Phoenix asked. The kids looked to each other.
“Bake then read, is that ok with you?” James asked, looking at Charlotte. She smiled widely, taking his hand and nodded. James smiled at his sister, before turning to face the group and nodded. The dagger squad smiled, and followed the kids, who were still holding hands, into the kitchen.
“Of course Y/N and Bob make the most precious kids” Phoenix whispered to the group, before they started getting things out to make cupcakes.
Phoenix, Charlotte and James read over the cookbook recipe while the guys got all of the ingredients from the pantry. Then, after preheating the oven, they prepared the baking tins with the paper foils and began making the mix.
“What are you doing?’ Charlotte asked, as James was taking the flour away from her. They hadn’t finished the mix but they were finished with the flour.
“It needs to go back before we make a mess” James said, continuing to clean. Charlotte shook her head and crossed her arms stubbornly.
“We’re not done yet!” She said, annoyed. Rooster raised his eyebrows at the scene.
“How about we clean up what you’re not using, so then when you’ve put it in the oven, we can go read immediately?” Hangman asked, and both kids nodded their heads. The Dagger team looked at each other, casting glances with their thoughts.
Once the cupcakes were finally in the oven, James all but ran into the living room to pick out a book. Phoenix picked up Charlotte, and carried her to sit on the couch with her, while the boys picked out a book.
“How about this one?” Coyote offered, picking out a book with animals on it. James shook his head while Charlotte nodded. 
“How about this one? It has planes on it, with pictures?” Rooster guessed, thinking the planes would suit James and the pictures would be good for Charlotte and both of the kids nodded.
“Nice choice” Phoenix said, as Bradley sat on the couch on the other side of Charlotte, while James sat on the floor with Hangman and Coyote. Rooster read out loud, showing the illustrations to the kids.
By the time Y/N and Bob got back home, the cupcakes had been done and frosted, and the kids were asleep. The dagger team had took some beers from the Floyd’s stash, and were all sitting on the porch, since it was nice outside. 
“Sorry it took so long. The waiting room was packed. How were the kids?” Y/N asked, as Bob helped her out of the car and into his arms. He carried her straight into the house onto the couch, while the team followed inside. Bob went back out to get the crutches, before settling done beside his wife. 
“You made mini you’s” Hangman said, as he handed Bob a bottle of beer. Y/N and Bob chuckled, as Bob leaned back, wrapping his arm around Y/N’s shoulders as he drank the beer.
“Seriously, it was like seeing you two as kids. Freaky, but adorable” Rooster added.
“They were angels though. Made you some cupcakes. We read some plane books. They were very well behaved” Phoenix commented, as the couple looked at each other and smiled.
“I’m glad. Usually Charlotte puts up such a fuss whenever James cooks with her because he wants everything to be tidy” Y/N said.
“Well she almost did when he was putting stuff away before we were done, but then Hangman said told her that if they did the cleaning while she was still cooking, then they’d immediately get to read after” Coyote said, and everyone chuckled.
“It’s also a good habit for her to clean up after herself in the kitchen. Wouldn’t want what happened to you to happen again?” Bob said, looking pointedly at his wife, with a teasing tone evident in his voice. Y/N rolled her eyes as the group laughed.
“I wonder who your next kid would take after? I call first dibs” Hangman commented, while the group rolled their eyes.
“I don’t think it works like that, but good try using your brain” Phoenix said, in a taunting baby voice tone. Hangman took a swig of his beer, rolling his eyes.
“Well thank you guys for babysitting on short notice. Really appreciate it” Y/N said, graciously, as the team started to head.
“No problem, anytime. You just get better. We’ll be around if you need help with anything” Rooster said, before they all left. 
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didasgomas · 7 days
Text
Number your prayers
December 6th, 1981 - 5:47 a.m , Edenseye Church, main altar
HO - (Pastor) Hunter Owldust CS - (Priest) Caleb Stone
HO : You'll probably notice the people looking at you a bit weird, but I promise you they'll adapt eventually. It happened to me when I took the role too, so don't worry. It's just that, uh... Father Efrat was here for, like, since my parents were babies, you know?
CS : I understand. I can imagine such a change to be overwhelming.
HO : Yeah, but to be honest, Father Efrat was really needing that retirement...
CS : How old is he, if you don't mind me asking?
HO : Uh... he turned 98 this July. Yeah, I think if you hadn't offered to replace him, he would have chosen me *nervous laughter*
CS : Does the idea of becoming the next Father upset you?
HO : Not really, don't get me wrong. I like to work for the Church, but as just the Pastor I get to spend much more time outside rather than inside, if you get me.
CS : Of course
HO : Now that I remember, you're much older than me, right?
CS : Indeed. I am perhaps what you youth call "old man"
HO : Ah no, goodness! I promise you, no one is going to call you that!
CS : I'm just playing around, don't worry
HO : I mean, you're old enough to be my dad, cause I'm only 46, but no one is going to be disrespectful towards you
CS : I know
HO : Ah, I just remembered something! Come with me!
December 6th, 1981 - 5:52 a.m , Edenseye Church, basement HO : You seeing this thing? Looks like just a very used candle holder on the wall, right? But if you do this...
*sounds of a mechanism activating and a door unlocking*
HO : Boom, you open a secret hidden door
CS : Fascinating...
HO : I know, right? Apparently it was some kind of dungeon when this church was some other building, that's why there's so many cells or whatever they're called
CS : Including the handcuffs?
HO : Yeah, I think
CS : And what about this?
HO : "This" what?
CS : Why is there a recently made steel door in the middle of a decaying old dungeon?
HO : Ah, that. Well, I'm not fully sure, but I think it arrived here from after Saint Mathilde's uh...
CS : Was destroyed?
HO : Yeah... It's a bit of a... "taboo" to talk about it here and the other villages. It was almost as important of a city as the county capital, you know?
CS : Yes, I know
HO : I think it was with the police before. Like, the local prison, you know? That's why there's a little door there on the bottom, it was where they passed the food to the other side. I think.
CS : And why was it just, left on the floor like this?
HO : Honestly, I think Father Efrat was just like "yeah, just leave it there, it's not like anyone knows about the secret entrance anyway" or something along those lines
CS : You're not taking this one bit seriously, are you?
HO : Not really
December 17th, 1981 - 3:30 p.m , Edenseye
HO - (Pastor) Hunter Owldust DI - (Villager) Drew Inshaw
HO : So, you want my help with finding your daughter? DI : Yes, my eldest, Sarah. Please, we need to find her- HO : Okay, okay, calm down, Mr. Inshaw. Can you tell me what happened? DI : It was five days ago. She sometimes runs away to visit her mother in Evermoor, so me and my wife are used to her not being home for two or three days. But she didn't show up back home yesterday at all. My and my wife spent the entire afternoon searching all around the village, but no one had seen her. HO : Not even in Olivecloud? DI : No, not even there. HO : Did you at least talk to her mother? DI : Yes! I went to talk to her face to face this morning, but she told me Sarah had left the day before yesterday! HO : Alright, and what did you do afterwards? DI : I went to the Father just a couple hours ago, I wanted to ask if there was a possibility to start a search for her, but... HO : ...But? DI : But he didn't even know who she was! HO : Well, I think that's normal, he's still meeting everyone and getting used to our village DI : I- I guess. But he did let us look around for her for just a while, and she wasn't in the church. HO : So you want me to help with the search instead? DI : Please Pastor, she's still only a teenager! If she's gone somewhere else outside of here, she could get herself in danger! HO : *sigh* How about this: I'll look around a bit myself, and if I don't find any clues, I'll talk to Father Caleb about opening the search. Does it sound enough? DI : Yes! Oh thank you so much, Hunter! HO : It's my duty to help, isn't it?
December 18th, 1981 - 23:29 p.m , Edenseye Church
HO - (Pastor) Hunter Owldust
HO : (whispering to self) I don't really expect to find anything there, but...
*sounds of stairs creaking*
HO : ... Hair? Why was she down here? *sounds of footsteps* *sounds of a mechanism activating and a door unlocking*
HO : (whispering) Blood...
*sounds of footsteps*
*low growling similar to that of a wild wolf*
HO : OH MY LORD! OH GOD!
*growling gets louder* *sounds of something hitting metal bars*
HO : Can- Can you still hear me?! Who did this to you?!
*sounds of a mechanism activating and a door locking*
HO : Who- Who's there?!
*creaking noise similar to floorboards*
*loud screams before something heavy falls to the ground*
December 19th, 1981 - 9:20 a.m , Olivecloud market square
RM - (Villager) Rita Malyn TQ - (Villager) Theresa Quartermaine
[passing conversation]
TQ : Any news on the Inshaw girl from Edenseye? RM : I heard her father is going to give up searching for her TQ : Because the Pastor is gone now too? RM : Yes. He thinks that she was able to convince the Pastor to let her run away, and that he had his own motives for leaving TQ : Maybe it has to do with his sister RM : Maybe. It's been years since they last saw each other. But why he didn't warn anyone is still so confusing TQ : Maybe he thought everyone would be fine since they have a new Priest RM : Perhaps. But do you think he's ever going to return? TQ : I don't know. Maybe yes, maybe not
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Short-story for my "In Mortality" au of @missr3n3 's cdta story because my creative ass can't keep focused on just one thing at a time
I chose the title because it sounds spooky but also because the first mention of Caleb (the biblical spy) is in Numbers 13
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snowbanshee · 6 months
Text
Because @salternateunreality started it and then it just didn't stop.
What I mostly like about the little S/L ship is how healthily balanced their relationship seems to be. They both seem to be equally powerful, but in different ways.
Lazard is not physically strong, but when it comes to social situations, he’s an expert. The youngest Director in ShinRa, at 23 years old he is already in charge of ShinRa’s most powerful force, SOLDIER and is doing a good job when dealing with other directors, SOLDIERs, the president, etc. People like Domino and Palmer (sometimes even Reeve) do not get much respect because of how soft they are. And SOLDIERs are apparently not above talking shit about people they do not respect (and you might say duuh, well of course Sephiroth would talk badly and openly disrespect Hojo. And in real life I would agree, but in fiction I guess you can only say a character does smth if they’re portrayed doing smth? So yes, Sephiroth will let people know if he disrespects them). So despite being young, poor and unenhanced, Lazard compensates it with social expertise to gain position of power. We can see that when he predicts Genesis’ parents are lying to ShinRa. And once again, in real life one might say duuuh, but in Crisis Core it is shown that Lazard makes a prediction about people’s motives and behavior and even Zack needs an explanation why he made that guess and later it is revealed that Genesis’ parents indeed cannot be trusted as they falsified info about Genesis (that he wasn’t any special from the G cells – Sephiroth finds their falsified reports later in game). So yes, this short game about Zack takes time to point out how well Lazard can read people.
Which brings me to my point: apparently Sephiroth accepts hugs and affirmations if people interpret his needs correctly. I would have never thought Sephiroth lets people hug him when he’s in a sulky vulnerable mood, but here we go.
I think Lazard is much more protective of Sephiroth than vice versa. He is very conventional and modern when it comes to ideas about leadership – mutual respect, trust, good communication. Which had without a doubt severely clashed with everything Sephiroth believed in when he was transferred from prof Hojo to SOLDIER. Of course Lazard’s main goal in life was to end the evil ShinRa corporation and to do it by destroying SOLDIER department. But for that, he had to establish himself as a leader of SOLDIER first. And Sephiroth needed a lot of conditioning to be undone. Lazard is very hands-on leader who wants to see in person how his SOLDIERs are performing their tasks, to personally evaluate their strengths and weaknesses. So imagine Sephiroth returning from a mission where he slept outside in horrible weather for a week because he was given the wrong key, but he didn’t want to complain, because hardships made him stronger. Or being injured and not having the means to return to the base so he’d walk for miles and miles before getting any medical attention. "Pain is good for you!" After finding it out, Lazard would call him to his office and try to gently suggest that maybe instead of hiding the fact that something is wrong, he can trust him and openly discuss it. I imagine Lazard having to explain to Sephiroth such concepts as survivor’s guilt, etc, to tell Sephiroth what he is feeling and why he’s feeling that. And at first it was probably just so Lazard can have Sephiroth as a functioning team member, but in CC it appears to evolve further and Sephiroth goes to sulk in Lazard’s office when things are bad.
Lazard is portrayed to have a lot of empathy and he fights for the greater good. He sacrificed Genesis, Angeal and himself to destroy ShinRa and yes it was a scummy thing to do and he felt a lot of guilt because of it. But imagine an empathetic person who believes in making the right choices being in charge of young Sephiroth. That young man is so broken even Glenn tries to adopt him. FF7 timeline is a mess, but CC lasts for at least 7 years. So I would say S and L know one another for a decade, give or take a couple of years.
Lazard is pretty upset about his father abandoning his mother and him in the slums. For a young fatherless child, slums must have been a very scary place, especially in dystopian hellscape that is FF7. And while he is well adjusted, having someone as strong and loyal as Sephiroth must feel very nice for him.
And Sephiroth never found his mother, but there was this soft and gentle guardian who probably understood his needs better than he ever could.
This is the part where I wipe a tear and say that in another scenario they could have been perfect for one another. Both professional, respected adults, very strong in their own ways, perfectly fulfilling each other’s needs. But Lazard’s main goal was to destroy the evil corporation and Sephiroth was loyal to ShinRa until it was too late.
Genesis: I hate ShinRa, so I will desert and attack it.
Lazard: I hate ShinRa so I will join it and undo it from inside.
Sephiroth: METEOR.
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Text
So, Gotham Knights, huh.
Obviously this is Court of Owls.
Wait so two separate projects at DC were made with the same name and are based on the idea of Bruce Wayne being killed by the Court of Owls?
Cressida, like Cressida Clark, of the Court of Owls?
Well five minutes in, we can wrap this up I already figured it out. DC I won the prize please let me write a comic for you now.
Harper, Cullen, please you’re smarter than this.
What is with the music in the show?
Of course it’s Joe Chill’s.
What’s Harvey Dent doing in a police car on the way to Wayne Tower? You’re the District Attorney?
Again with the music?
Olive Silverlock? Gotham Academy reference.
If I keep having to pause to collect myself I’m never going to get through this.
That cowl looks bad.
He immediate tells Stephanie?
A big lever?
Fire sound fx.
The cave is pretty bare to be honest.
No t-rex 0/10
The slums of Burnside?
Okay I had to take a breather.
So they just made Batman’s secret identity public knowledge?
Why are they (Harper, Cullen, Duela) in a loft?
So now Gotham sends in SWAT?
“With no Batman, who’s going to solve the murder of Bruce Wayne?” DUH DUH DUHHHHH
The Mutant Gang?
I’m sorry, but his Dad literally died a handful of days ago. Truancy?
Is this supposed to be after the four week break they were talking about?
Where is Alfred in all of this?
Why would Harvey be entertaining this idea that Duela is the Joker’s Daughter?
Man Harvey, Duela made you look bad.
Oh don’t /Turner/ him! That guy deserved it.
Let me guess, Batman killed his parents?
The Batcave duh duh duh
Hacker Steph?
Mom left? Miranda left?
Harvey has my respect.
Harper no!
Why is a batarang over at the computer?
Turner you don’t keep track of your money?
Cressida! You!
Millionaire?
Bruce Wayne has a lawfirm?
Court of Owls.
Joker’s dead?
Wait, did they give Lonnie Machin’s origin story to Duela? 
Why did they put them all in the same cell?
Also Cullen picking fights?
Harper intervening is on-point for her character.
I would not advise the public not to rush to judgement? Sir you very much seemed to barrel your way to judgement quite quickly.
Who is this lady talking to Harvey?
No pressure right?
Again, same vehicle?
Why would they go to Blackgate?
Man GCPD aren’t the most attentive are they?
Huh, Cullen can kick some ass.
Convenient pile of gravel.
Of course they’re with the Court of Owls.
Rocket launcher.
Where is Commissioner Gordon in all of this?
I’m Robin? Really you’re just going to say it and unmask?
What is with this show and the lack of secret identities?
Really? Your mom’s car?
Brooding! I hope we cut away to everyone else in the car.
Duela brings up a good point.
You’re hiding at the school?
Court of Owls again.
Name drop.
Why would Duela be in Arkham as a kid?
Recite the poem yada-yada-yada.
And of course Cressida has ulterior motives.
and the Talon at the end.
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ellabxrnes · 2 years
Text
The Prank... Pt. 2
Requested: Yes.
Pairings: Bruce Wayne x reader
Summary: Part 2 of my prank imagine. Bruce tells the reader he is selling Wayne Enterprises.
Word Count: 705
A/N: Haven't posted or felt like writing in awhile but I wrote this and wanted to post it.
Read part one HERE
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"Y/N, can you come into my office, honey?" he called you from his cell phone. 
"Sure, I'm just finishing up a project for work," you replied.
Perfect. Now that the topic of work has been brought up, it'll be easier to pull this prank on you.
--
When Bruce approached Jason after starting a 'prank war' between you two, he didn't understand what that meant. Jason had been happy to help, but Bruce didn't want to pull an unrealistic prank on you. He wanted it to be believable. After all, you were pretty smart, and he knew you'd see right through a bullshit prank.
After many ideas, including a cheating prank (which made Bruce upset just thinking about it), he and Jason finally decided on the perfect trick. It was realistic and would be easy. He had talked with all the boys and got them in on it, just in case. He had briefly mentioned it to Alfred, to which Bruce received a short nod and sigh. 
--
"I'm selling the company," Bruce said in his most stoic and smooth voice, the one he was sure you wouldn't catch onto immediately. 
"Okay, why?" After all these years, you wondered why Bruce would suddenly sell his most valuable asset. 
"It reminds me too much of my parents." That makes sense.
"Alright, and what are you going to do next? Retire? Start another company? Demote yourself to a lower position?" You were genuinely curious.
"I plan on selling and going full-time Batman, but I will also be very active on the board."
You shook your head and quickly replied. "No."
Bruce snapped back. "Yes."
"I won't allow that to happen, Bruce. We have talked, and I am fully supportive of the vigilante stuff, but that work consumes you at night, and for your own health, I won't let you do that."
"I talked to the boys; they are supportive."
"Well, I am not. And have you talked to Alfred? I know he wouldn't allow that."
"I am planning on it."
"Look, I love and support you, but I also want the best for you. You need a healthy work-life-superhero balance."
"Yes, but Gotham is getting more dangerous every day, and it's up to me to stop it from taking over."
You shook your head. "Bruce. You have help. You don't need to throw yourself into it all the time."
"Y/N. I wasn't asking you if I could do this. I am telling you. This is what will be doing."
"Okay, fine, Bruce, but if it becomes too much, I won't sit and watch you continuously keep hurting yourself."
"You're saying you would leave me?" He was scared of that statement. He couldn't imagine life without you. 
"I love you, but I couldn't sit on the sideline and watch you do it ALL THE TIME. I think you have a wonderfully balanced life right now as is. I don't want to argue with you."
"I wasn't trying to argue."
"... Okay. Well then, do you have any potential buyers?"
"Not at the moment."
"Have you confronted the board?"
"Not as a whole, but I have sought advice from a few of them individually."
"Would I have to pick up a job at another company?"
"Y/N. You don't have to work right now."
"I am going to work no matter what. I wonder what finances would look like if you sold your entire company."
"I would be putting the money into all new equipment. I also planned on selling all of our other assets."
"What?"
"Yes, we would no longer need another place besides the manor. All I would need is the Batcave."
"Bruce, are you actually hearing yourself right now?"
"Yes. It makes sense."
"Alright."
"Are you mad? You seem mad."
"I'm fine, Bruce. I am just going to go and talk to Alfred about all this nonsense."
Oh shit.
"Wait!"
"What?"
"I- uh-"
You look at him quizzically.
"It's a prank."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry. That was such a bad idea-"
At that, Jason pops into Bruce's office. "Oh, hey, mom. Did he tell you? He's selling the company."
"Yes, your father told me. He's also terrible at pranking people."
"What? Dad, you already told her it was a joke."
"I- Yes. I couldn't watch your mother be upset."
Damian comes in. "So that must mean that the prank war is over? Thank God. How immature of you both."
"Oh, sweetie" You look Bruce in the eye. "It's far from over." 
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waitmyturtles · 1 year
Text
Oh me oh MY, thoughts on Bed Friend episode 2: this is kind of a jacked-up show by way of flow, I think. Maybe I appreciate the way it’s filmed in regards to what I think is an inconsistent emotional flow, if I were to attribute that flow to Uea’s severely traumatized past. It just seems like the conversations between King and Uea just JUMP from deep and connected to like, extremely horny in a matter of a nanosecond. Is it that the show feels, like, a loyalty to the sexy and needs to run back to it as fast and as much as possible?
I have no idea, but I think my preference, particularly for the quality of the acting of our two dudes, is for the emo convos to keep going. I thought the hospital and testing scenes were done really well! The actual sessy part at the end, though, I was like -- this is Skinemax from my childhood, a little overly melocheesy for my tastes. I kinda feel like these guys could do that vibe better, maybe if the script were better?
I can’t help but compare this to other things I’m watching right now by way of how I’m seeing how Thailand does childhood trauma (namely 10 Years Ticket, which is AS OPPOSITE Bed Friend’s premise as possible, but both center two very traumatized male main characters). And I think Bed Friend is doing an oooookay job leveraging Uea’s past trauma to explain his adult behavior, which is totally valid -- it’s just that I think this show could be a little bit more empathic and obvious about it. But, I think it’s NOT doing that, BECAUSE this script is like, oh shit, let’s not forget that King wants to jump Uea at every moment, so let’s get back to that. 
That being said, Uea’s mom is deliciously evil, and I want to throw her into a cement cell. So speaking of that, I want to make one quick point: the shamelessness of her asking for money. Going back to 10 Years Ticket very quickly: in 10YT, there’s another greedy mom who connives money from her son. 
“Paying back your parents” is a thing in a lot of Asian cultures -- it’s a part of the filial piety practice for many (not all) families (many families encourage their kids to “save their money,” and then there are families that expect kids to both save AND give, it’s all over the place). 
So I appreciated King intervening in that scene, because: that kind of scene is almost always done in deep private, UNLESS the parents are more on the shameless side, like Uea’s mom. While parental units might ask their children for money, the fact that the parents NEED or WANT the money is usually a private affair. ​
Uea’s mom blows that into the open by demanding the money at the hospital, and REPEATING HERSELF loudly, AND attributing wanting MORE money because of traffic, AND shaming Uea into not having enough. That’s pretty indicative of what many might consider “low” behavior of a parent. What I read there, in King’s reaction, is that King wanted to get Uea out of an exchange that had reached peak inappropriateness. This is all just a guess, because there might be Thai cultural nuances that I may be missing, but that’s my general read as an Asian. 
I’m liking this show -- I don’t know that I’m ENJOYING it yet, but I’m liking it -- and I hope the script rounds King’s character out, because I think there’s a lot of potential there. We’ll see.
(@bengiyo​ and @shortpplfedup -- I loved the backless mules, but I REALLY LOVED the white shirt-black pants-WHITE LOAFER combo at the office -- bravery. And Uea’s smoking box purse was chef’s kiss: I always prefer a vertical square purse to a landscape one.)
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grumpygreenwitch · 6 months
Text
Fanfiction 26-27
THIS IS IT. Originally posted 10/31/23.
If you stuck it out with me, thank you. Please, remember that reblogs are sometimes the only way for my writing to get out there - I tried Blazing my Marcus and Aire story and it was rejected.
As always, if you have the time, I'd love to know if you liked it. If you hated it. If you want to spare me a few moments, I'd love the questions below answered.
Favorite Character.
Favorite scene/moment.
Least Favorite Character - either because they were boring, or a Character you love to hate.
Did any scene drag on, lack momentum?
Anything else you'd like to add.
Happy Halloween!
Buy me a Ko-fi?
1-2-3 + 4-5 + 6-7-8-9-10 + 11-12 + 13-14 + 15-16 + 17-18-19 + 20-21 + 22-23 + 24-25 + 26-27
26
Alyss ran out of the chamber, and then came to a dead halt when he realized it was dark and cold and quiet everywhere. The night breeze was a hushed whisper through the streets of the Refuge. Here and there, guards armed with night-time equipment were flashes of motion in the starlight-touched dark. There were more dark windows than those marked by golden light, and for the first time since he'd been brought to the Refuge, Alyss was free to go and do whatever he wanted, answering to no one but himself.
He hurried along. He remembered little of his life in the Refuge, it had been a nondescript time of coming and going between Michaela's ward and his lessons. His parents kept no home in the angelic citadel, there had been no retainers, no staff, no friends or guides other than his teachers, and Alyss had been a shy creature. He'd never roamed. Which meant he had a vague idea of where Raphael's compound was, but it was exactly that: vague.
He bounced impatiently on his feet. His vampire was there! Close enough to touch, to kiss, if only Alyss could find him. "He's probably warm, too," he muttered, the light cloak he'd been given not doing much against the cold at that altitude. "Agh!"
"Are you alright?"
Alyss turned and immediately jerked away in instinctive caution. He could see nothing of the angel speaking to him except he was huge, built like someone who swung small trees around as weapons. "I... think I'm lost," he admitted sheepishly.
"Lost," the angel repeated, his voice calm and even and only a little unimpressed. "In the Refuge."
"I never really left Michaela's ward when I was growing up," Alyss rushed to say. "I know, I know, curiosity and all that. I just didn't feel the drive, it was home for my lessons and to the library for my lessons, back and forth and back again and that was fine, I didn't mind, I didn't care, but ever since I got here I've only been coming and going between my cell and the Council Chamber -"
"You're Alyss."
"Um." Alyss ran out of words. "Oh, it's so strange to have people I don't know know me. Well, I've always not known them, but. Yes, that's me, thank you. Pleasure to meet you. Do you know where Raphael's ward is?"
The angel examined him in perfect silence and perfect stillness for a long moment before he pointed.
"Thank you!" Alyss hurried away, sparing a moment to think that the Refuge had, perhaps, been filled with nicer, more helpful people since he'd left it.
He found the guards at the entrance to the compound, who confirmed for him that he was at the right place, and were decent enough to try and hide their amusement at his relief. One of them offered to find him a guide to Kliman's designated quarters; Raphael had not designed his compound to be a maze for the sake of defense, as some of the other Archangels did, but centuries of growth can make any place into a labyrinth. Alyss grudgingly accepted the delay while she called for help; he'd already been found lost by one angel, it'd be even more embarrassing if it happened again inside the ward of the very Archangel he was meant to swear allegiance to. While he waited he wondered if anyone would let him have a computer; he needed to get in touch with Evie, he had to start rebuilding the pipeline intranet. There was so much work to do.
A young guard found him, reminding him vaguely of Rook with the sort of chiseled build that only hours of daily flight and combat practice could put on someone. He had dappled brown wings with hints of blue, and he had the same direct manner as the angel of Connecticut. As they walked in the silence and the dark, Alyss had to ask. "Do you know Rook?"
"Only by name," the angel replied. "He runs his domain well, and Kliman trusts him."
As if those were the only things that mattered. "You remind me of him. In a good way," Alyss hurried to add.
"There's a bad way?" The angel gave him a puzzled look.
Alyss, feeling heat creep over his face, hurried on. He could see lights in one set of windows up ahead and he made a beeline for them.
A hand caught the back of his cloak and yanked him to a stop, then behind one of those tawny wings. A choked, surprised squawk escaped him.
"The door shouldn't be open," the guard said, his hand on his sword. He touched the comm-bud on his ear. "Milia," he called out into the line, "something's not - Alyss!"
It was too late. Alyss had darted around that wing and sprinted into the apartment, panic making him blind to any potential danger. "Jean! Jean, Kliman, Lilah! " He dashed through a small open room that seemed to be a combination kitchen and dining area, and charged into the main sitting area. His heart went to pieces in his chest. Lilah had upended a chair when she'd fallen, and she was so terrifyingly still that Alyss couldn't bear to even glance in her direction more than the once. Kliman had crashed into a small table; the tea service on it had spilled on its tray, but it had not fallen. The angel was on her side, one wing crumpled under her body, the other twitching feebly.
"Kliman!" Alyss skid to his knees before the angel, dragged her into her lap just enough to see that she was conscious, staring at him, but unable to move or respond. Her chest worked as if every breath were a fight. "Call the healers!" he shouted at the angel outside.
Kliman croaked something unintelligible, her eyes rolling like a cornered animal's. "You'll be fine, you'll be fine," Alyss didn't have a single, solitary idea on how to reassure people, simply because his idea of reassurance was to pinpoint a problem and fix it. He didn't even know what was wrong with the older angel, let alone how to fix it. "You will! You have to be, I have the best news to give you. The healers will be here any mom -"
"Nt...." The old angel gritted her teeth until they squeaked, and then gritted them some more, until the muscles along the fine porcelain lines of her face were twitching visibly. It was the first conscious reaction she'd been able to get out of her body since the attack, and she would have cheered for it if she'd been able to. "H-rrieh. Nghr!"
"I don't understand you, I'm sorry!"
Small wonder, Kliman thought. She could hardly understand herself. She could get the fricatives out, but not the plosives. Whatever they'd been dosed with, the muscles that saw the most use were recovering first; that meant her tongue, but not her lips. She chewed furiously, until she felt drool threaten to drown her, but Alyss moved her on her side. "Lyss!"
"Alyss, yes, that's me, I'm here, I'm -" Kliman's hand shot out, grabbed the cloak and dragged him close. The young angel, instinctively trying to counterbalance, threw open his tattered wings and yelped in pain.
But then he was nearly nose to nose with the old angel, who was breathing in ragged little snorts. "Anh. Gree." Kliman put out each sound with utmost care, and then added a word that froze all of Alyss to his core. "Moss. Nee." She shoved him away. "Go!"
"Oh, no. No, no. Nonono. They were watching him, they were supposed to -" What could, should and hadn't happened wasn't going to help him. Alyss shook his head sharply. "Which way?" he asked of Kliman.
Her eyes answered him, and he sprinted out through the open door. There were shouts everywhere, voices calling out in the dark. Alyss rather figured the communications he wasn't hearing were even louder and busier. He dismissed them all, fell within himself, put a hand to his chest and curled it into a fist as if he were strangling his own runaway emotions. Jean needed him, and that meant Alyss needed the clarity of his mind as never before.
So. Moissani had outright kidnapped the vampire, attacking within the Refuge. The angel had to know his life would be forfeit if he were caught; he would have made plans not to be.
Alyss looked up; the night sky was full of wings.
Flying out was almost completely guaranteed to fail. Alyss ran a quick mental calculation, but every time he ran against the same inescapable truth: Moissani would have needed a small army of his own to fend off the Refuge's defenders. He rushed over to look down at the gorges and boulder-choked gullies below. The angelic citadel was meant to be impregnable from the ground; there was a single access point, one road, and it didn't reach all the way to the Citadel. Alyss had been exhausted at the time, in too much pain to realize it at the time, but while he couldn't remember it clearly, he did know his mind was telling him he'd arrived to the Refuge as any other angel would. That meant he'd been flown in.
That meant Jean would have to be flown out at some point. He looked up again.
A new variable added itself to the equation in his head: distance. The further Moissani could get away from the Refuge, the less likely he'd be discovered. In the dark, the angel's wings would make him basically invisible if he were on the ground. All he'd have to do otherwise is secure an insulated blanket, and he'd be invisible to heat-sensing tech. Did the guards have low-light tech? Would Moissani have accounted for it?
Alyss pursed his mouth. No. This was a gambit of desperation, a plan shaped on the fly, a contingency for a contingency.
He ran until he found a trio of angels that nearly ran him down, everyone coming to a startled halt. Alyss recovered first. "I need you to take me down to the gorge," he told them without preamble.
They blinked at him. "We d-"
"The angel who attacked Kliman kidnapped a vampire. She was never the target, he was. Moissani can't get him out by flying, that goes right into the negatives. He's walking. I need you to take me down there, now, before he gets any further away, because the greater the distance value the higher the escape possibility!" When they blinked at him without understanding, Alyss felt as if he were a youngling again, trying to learn to speak a language that had nothing to do with what went on in his head.
"I'll take him." A woman's voice said, and they all turned around. Alyss felt strong arms wrap around him.
“Wait!” Alyss cried out and pointed. “Can I have those, please?”
The angels stared down at themselves, as if they’d outright forgotten the part of their equipment Alyss was pointing at. One of them, more sensible than the others, yanked his baton out of his belt and stole one from his nearest companion, handing them over. “You’ll have short-range communication in the gorge, but nothing else,” he told both Alyss and his helper.
Before the young angel knew what had happened he was airborne in a powerful vertical take-off. "Do you know where?" she asked against his ear. Her voice seemed familiar, but Alyss had met so many people during the past few days that he could have been in an Archangel's arms and he wouldn't have known any better.
"Not too far," he told her. "The walls offer a decoy factor to the detection potential percentage and offset -"
"So close to the walls?" She cut him off, but there was laughter in her tone.
"As close as you can," he agreed.
She took him at his word; Alyss could have touched the stone as they plummeted down in a controlled fall, and he wouldn't have had to stretch his arm fully for it. When they touched down he nearly fell off wobbly legs, wheezing. "That was far more harrowing than I expected."
"You did say close to the wall," she pointed out mildly.
"I did. That's just much closer than I would have ever dared. You fly really well." Alyss was hearing the oddest rasping sound and, unable to place it, he couldn't focus.
"I had an excellent teacher." Suddenly a tiny beam of light cut through the profound darkness of the gully; the woman had a phone, and she was using it to illuminate their surroundings. Hardly any of the light fell on her, but Alyss was startled to see someone built much along his own lines, slim and fine-boned, her wings fleetingly gleaming like an oilslick. "What is that noise?" Shadows moved at the very edge of the beam of light, and they both rushed at them until they found what Moissani had left of his helper. Alyss surged forward, but the angel put a steady hand on his shoulder. "Don't touch him."
"But -"
"Moissani worked for Charisemnon."
Alyss took back his step.
"I'll get him help.” She turned off the light, fiddled momentarily with her phone, and offered it to the young angel once he was done tucking the batons into his belt. “Find your friend, Alyss."
He went stumbling away through the darkness in the gorge before he even realized she, too, had known him. "I am going to have to hire someone to remember people for me," he told no one, his tone mournful. “Or I’m going to be embarrassed forever.��
He didn't have to run any numbers to know that Moissani would be trying to put as much distance between him and the Refuge as possible. How much would be enough? How cautious, or reckless, would the angel be feeling? Would he be close enough to hear the alarm being sounded? Would it make him stop and hide, or hurry even more?
Alyss was desperately trying not to put Jean's face on the horror that was the angel Moissani had left behind. Every time his thoughts tried to go that way every number in his head turned instead into a single word.
Jean Jean Jean Jean
He ran, stumbling and tripping and belatedly aware that Aegaeon had done him a favor: without his wings he wasn't getting caught on the boulders or the dark-leafed, gnarled trees that grew where enough dirt had gathered over the centuries. Moissani wouldn't have that benefit. "Ha!"
At that exact moment, the ground went out from under him. Not a problem if he'd been able to fly, but given his current circumstances he instead went down the unexpected slope exactly as gravity dictated, and fetched up against a rock at the bottom with an almighty impact that knocked both breath and sense right out of him. He laid there, gasping in pain; he'd gone most of the way down on his back, and his wings felt like they were on fire. Slowly, he rolled onto his back, then on his knees; a bout of dizziness hit and he nearly went down again.
Bird, you didn't eat today, that loving, rough voice said in his mind.
"I'll eat after I find you, I promise," he murmured into the dark. "You can make cornbread. I'll even drink your coffee."
The gorge, at least, allowed for only one direction to be followed, and Alyss rushed on, following the slope and flanked by the high stone cliffs. He lost track of time, he didn't know how far he might have come from the Refuge. At one point he looked up when he thought he saw angels fly overhead.
He saw a vast shadow coming at him like an owl after a mouse, and threw himself to one side.
Moissani crashed down to the ground, wings mantled to keep him from hitting too hard. He let go of the rock in his hands. "You are truly the most noxious, interfering, ignorant creature it has ever been my displeasure to meet!" he hissed at Alyss as he whirled around, trying to catch him with the flat of a wing. Alyss scrambled behind a rock, and Moissani yowled when his wing struck that unyielding surface instead. "You are an angel! Immortal! There'll be a hundred, a thousand like him in your life! You can even make your own!"
"There'll be none like him," Alyss replied, though he couldn't be sure the other angel had heard him. Louder, he called out, "Where's Jean?"
"Away from you," Moissani replied tartly. A moment later something came flying over the stone to shatter with a delicate tinkling sound, but Alyss was no longer there. "I will kill you," the angel declared. "I don't really care much if I must. But I will leave this place with my treasure."
"He's free. Zan-"
"I don't care. He's mine. One Archangel or ten can speak, he's still mine." This time Alyss' voice had come from close enough that Moissani dashed forward, aided by his wings, a blade glittering in his hands. He'd much rather make it look like Alyss' death had been an accident but dealing with the impudent young angel was costing him too much time. The attack on Kliman had been discovered too soon and every second of delay brought him closer to discovery.
But once again Alyss was not there.
"You haven't killed anyone yet, I don't think." Alyss wasn't moving around of a sense of strategy; he was madly scrambling around in the dark looking for Jean. "They might let you live -"
"I don't care what they might or might not let me do!" the other angel shouted. "I want to be left alone to do my research, that's what I want. I want to go home with my specimen, that's what I want. I spent nearly a hundred years cleaning him up, bringing him to the peak of physical perfection. Do you know how long it took to even find him to begin with?"
"You tortured him for four hundred years!"
"I did research for four hundred years! He's fine, he survived," Moissani scoffed. "I can do another four hundred years, probably more -"
Alyss barreled out of the dark in a blur of motion. The first baton caught Moissani directly under his sternum, where the bone's protection ended, and drove all the breath right out of him. The second whirled in an upward arch and the long, stiletto-like blade the older angel had been holding went flying like a piece of starlight into the dark.
Angelic batons were based on the oldest variant of the weapon, a millstone handle turned defensive tool. Each of the weapons Alyss had were a solid composite length with a textured handle at a perfect angle near one of the ends, rather than a straight club. Alyss spun one against the underside of his arm and caught a wild swat from one of Moissani's wings against it. The blow staggered him, but did not harm him.
"I think you're a horror," the accountant said. "And I don't think I want you near my vampire."
Moissani lunged at him, bare-handed. Alyss, who'd remembered the unknown woman's words just before he lunged at the other angel in a fury, parried that attack, felt something hard hit one of the batons, and hurriedly stepped back, swinging instead for his opponent's knees. A wing got in the way.
Alyss had learned the counter to that maneuver the hard way; he twisted his wrist and redirected his momentum, and instead of going sideways he struck upwards. Black and dark green feathers went flying and Moissani reeled back with a cry of pain.
Alyss followed, relentlessly implacable. "You are a horrible person. You are rabid. You're mean!" he yelled. "You're not touching Jean, not ever again!" The batons were a blur, moving faster than Moissani could follow, landing blows that two pairs of limbs were somehow not managing to fend off. Instead, desperate, he threw his satchel at Alyss' face. "Ack!" Alyss swatted the thing off, heard too many things shattering inside it, and dove away from it. In a heartbeat, they'd lost sight and track of one another in the dark. "You are broken," he declared firmly, "and I don't think you can be fixed. I don't think you should be fixed."
"Genius is never recognized in its own time," Moissani declared, leaning low against a rock. He was stinging, and badly, from all the blows the young accountant had landed, not one of which he'd expected. "I don't expect you to understand."
"You're not a genius!" Alyss retorted tartly, "You just like hurting people and acting like it's science! You're not a scientist, you're a child with a magnifying glass!"
Moissani came flying at him from the dark. "How dare you!" One of those wings slammed into Alyss' defending batons, but the other caught him when he staggered and sent him flying, crashing hard into the ground. He scrabbled away before Moissani could follow up. "I am a student of the purest science. Unclouded by emotion. Untarnished by attachment. I am science!"
Alyss, who during this impassioned protest had taken the time to climb one of the boulders, dropped down on Moisanni from above, the batons leading. He hit the angel as hard as he could, no longer caring if he killed him outright. Moissani crashed down to his knees, but he was old enough to both survive twin batons to the back of the head and not be rendered fully unconscious by the assault. He flung his wings open and Alyss was briefly airborne before he crashed down into the darkness once again, forcing himself to roll back onto his feet and change position.
He needn't have bothered. Moissani was leaning against a boulder, dazed. "You... You..."
"You are so loud," Alyss panted. He groped in his pockets until he found the phone he'd been given, turned on the flashlight and set it on top of a boulder, pointing up. "I can't even figure out why you're still fighting. You can't win. All the math says otherwise. There's barely a possibility for you to get away anymore, none at all if you factor Jean in -"
"Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Moissani yelled at him. "Who cares about math? You don't understand, nobody understands, I need him, he's my baseline, and I am not leaving without him. I will wring such secrets from his blood -"
Alyss charged him once again, but this time Moissani had found his dagger. They fought in a flurry of blows, the angel's wings giving him a brutal advantage that still got checked at every opportunity by the accountant. A blow slipped past Moissani's guard, caught him under the chin and sent him reeling back. He swung wildly with that dagger, forcing Alyss back, but the young angel merely dropped to a crouch and went for his opponent's knees again. There was a sickening crunch, and Moissani howled, stumbling badly. In desperation, he threw the dagger at Alyss.
If there had been full wings still at the accountant's back, doubtless Moissani would have hit something. As it was, the dagger sailed just over the young angel's shoulder and away. Alyss threw himself at the other angel with a wild, angry yell, and slammed him into a rock. A baton came up and the main bone on one of the green-and-black wings shattered. The other one came down on the other angel's throat.
Moissani shoved Alyss and slid down the boulder, clawing at his throat, unable to breathe. Alyss stared at him, breathing hard, wondering if he'd need to hit him again, but in the end the damage he'd done proved enough. Moissani slumped down, unconscious. When Alyss poked him with a baton, the angel dropped on his side in a boneless heap.
For centuries Marsiel had told him that he'd never be able to recognized a fight until it kicked him in the ass. His teacher, however, had allowed Alyss to leave the Refuge for one simple reason: while his pupil would never start a fight if he could help it, he was entirely capable of ending one.
"You're nothing but a bully," Alyss declared primly. "Stop being one. Please."
27
Jean woke up with a desperate gasp. "Alyss!"
He immediately took a battered amber wing to the face. It had been resting on his chest, a threadbare blanket, and damn near broke his nose. "Oufh!"
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Alyss cried out, springing up to kneel on the bed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, you startled me!"
Jean groped blindly around, his eyes watering. He found an arm over his chest, grabbed it, followed the satiny skin of it along until he found a shoulder, a body, the scent of books and honey and high summer. He lunged up to wrap both arms around the angel. "My bird." His heart was a frantic drum in his chest. "My sunflower!"
"My vampire," Alyss replied, his voice as gentle as Jean's was urgent. One hand was supporting him, the other wrapped around Jean. "Here I am. Right here with you."
They simply held each other for a long time, Alyss drawing them both back down to the bed and pulling Jean close so the vampire could rest his head on the angel's chest. Gradually, Jean's heart slowed down and began to beat in time with the angel's, calm and steady and sure. He dozed again and woke up much later, calmer this time, aware enough that he could look at his surroundings. He was in a vast, familiar room overlooking a snowy, equally familiar landscape, the curtains open just enough to let in a partial view and the golden, slanting light of a beautiful sunset. Someone had put several blankets over him and Alyss. He was wearing an oversized shirt and nothing else, and he was once again under one of those tattered wings.
Not so tattered anymore, he realized, frowning, looking more closely. He could see new feathers peeking out from under the old, battered plumage. How long had he been out?
The chest under his head rose in a long sigh, and the vampire twisted up to look at his angel's elegant, delicate profile as Alyss woke up. The shadows under the sweet brown eyes made his heart hurt. "Are those for me?" he asked, his voice rough with lack of use, a hand reaching up to try and smudge those shadows away.
"Maybe a little," Alyss admitted, his voice tight. "They'll go away now," he promised, "with you awake."
"How long was I out... Kliman? Lilah?"
"Kliman's fine," Alyss assured him before his face fell. "Lilah didn't make it. It's been almost two weeks."
Jean gritted his teeth, felt his angel's arms wrap tightly around him. "Moissani?"
"He was executed."
For a long moment Jean couldn't speak, could hardly breathe. "It doesn't seem real," he murmured at last, "to think of him gone. Nightmares don't die that easy."
"Well, I don't know that it was easy," Alyss protested mildly. "But he was very much executed. I should know, I was there." He'd insisted; he wanted to bear witness for Jean's sake.
Jean found one of the accountant's hands and laced their fingers together, trying to find the courage for the most important question of all. "Did you forgive me?"
Alyss sank his free hand into the vampire's dark hair and tugged until they were close enough to kiss. He yielded everything in that touch, slow and sweet, the taste of honey matched to the scent of pine. Jean forgot everything in that moment, sorrow and fury, fear and confusion, it was all swept away until all he knew of the world was his angel. He gasped when Alyss pulled away.
Then the angel gave him a very earnest look. "You are free and safe, my vampire. Do you know what that means?"
"No," Jean admitted. "I never thought I'd be one or the other, let alone both." He leaned up to kiss Alyss again.
Alyss let himself be kissed. "It means you're getting therapy."
Jean froze, barely a breath from Alyss' lips. Then he started laughing, rusty but honest. "Fair," he agreed, pulling away just so he could see his bird. "And what will you be doing?"
"Paperwork. The pipeline's going legal. We'll be under Raphael's protection."
"Legal!" Jean straightened up minutely, eyes wide. "You won." Disbelief and shock went to delight in his lean features.
"I didn't win anything, they want me talking! To people! In public!" Alyss grew more and more indignant with every point, and he wasn't flailing simply because both his hands were busy. "Ugh!"
Jean wouldn't laugh at his bird, but it was a close thing. Instead he kissed that grumpy mouth. "Get Maia to do it. Her contract with Evie's almost done. I bet neither of them would mind passing it to you."
"I don't need to be responsible for people."
"Hate to be the one to point this out for you, but you already are." Jean brought their laced hands to his mouth and kissed each knuckle. He sighed deeply before he spoke again. "I couldn’t help her."
"I'll take you to see her," Alyss said gently. "It's not far. My wings aren't that far along, I'd probably fit in a car. We can drive to Maine."
"Drive... We're back? Back at the lodge?"
"Yes. There was nothing else they could do for you at the Refuge. I didn't think you'd want to wake up in a hospital, even that hospital." When a shudder went through his vampire Alyss knew he'd chosen right. "Kliman's staying awake, but she's still passing New England to Evie. She invited us to move back in with her."
"I go where you go, my bird."
"I like it there. I met you there, that makes it a good place, all good numbers. And she's still a terrible accountant."
"You really do think in numbers, don't you. What do you see when you look at me, what's my number?"
"There isn't one," Alyss replied solemnly. "Everything else in the world is a number except you. You're Jean."
The vampire shifted and kissed his angel then, hard and possessive and demanding, pausing only once to let Alyss gasp for breath before he claimed again those exquisite kiss-bruised lips. The angel's hands caught fistfuls of the oversized shirt, then roamed up over Jean's chest and went diving through his hair, and a low, hungry growl began to rise from the vampire's chest. Jean yanked himself away with an effort.
"Oh, why always when it's getting good," Alyss whined.
"Because you do things to my self-control, bird," Jean laughingly replied. "And I'm hungry."
"So feed."
"Alyss."
"I am your angel. I saw you wearing my feather." Alyss' lashes came down just low enough to shade those rich brown eyes like a tempting invitation. "Besides, you know I like it when you bite."
Jean's breath burst out of him like he'd been punched. With it went a fairly sizeable chunk of his willpower. "This is a different kind of bite."
"And if I don't like it, I know you'll stop if I tell you to."
The vampire could only stare at that immense show of faith. "Why," he asked, touching his forehead to the angel's, "do you see only the best in me?"
"What else is there?" Alyss replied guilelessly. "You are the best of you, Jean. Even your scars."
"Every time I think I can't love you any more than I already do..." Jean buried his face against Alyss' chest. "He took the feather. Yanked it off me, threw it away, said something about being his treasure, no one else's."
"Well, what a rude thing to do," Alyss declared primly. "Here I was thinking you'd just lost it when he was dragging you all over the place. I got you a better one anyway. Real amber. If you... If you want it, I mean."
Jean wound his arms around the angel and twisted, so he ended up face-up on the bed, Alyss straddling him. Parts of him that had no right to still be functioning when he'd just spend nearly two weeks recovering roused immediately to gleeful attention. "I want it. I want it like I want breath and life and blood, my angel. I'll find you amber to match. But... can I still have one of yours?"
Alyss leaned down and kissed his vampire, his ears very red. "Yes. It's going to be a while, though."
Jean ran his tongue over the angel's throat, drinking in the scent of him, fangs sliding along the pale, sensitive skin there without breaking it just yet. "I can wait. I'll think of something to keep myself busy."
"Any ideas yet?" Alyss gasped the words out, goosebumps chasing themselves over his skin at the feel of those fangs.
"Just one," the vampire rumbled, and bit.
8/17/23 03:02
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hazellepotter · 2 years
Text
Mirage
Pairing: Harry Potter x Pansy Parkinson
Words: 1,344
You can also read this on AO3.
There I was, afraid and alone. That was nothing new, but it made my cowardly nature that much clearer. It felt as though it should be the end, but in reality, it was just the beginning of an endless cycle of betrayal. Why did I insist on not giving myself the things I deserved? My mother asked me that for years, and I wasn't sure how to answer her. Looking back now, I know what I would say. I would say it was because I didn't deserve it, even if others claimed I did. My privilege, it didn't matter at the end of the day. It was false protection; a facade that would come crumbling down as soon as I saw him, really saw him, for the very first time. 
There I was, afraid and alone, as he looked me in the eye and saw me for who I really was. 
No one.
Everyone knew my name, and not for the right reasons. My father, a loyal follower to the Dark Lord, and my mother, my sweet mother that made me feel as though I was looking at my own reflection. She came from a prestigious family too, but was trapped in her own despair. In the end, she was also afraid and alone. That's how she died; I was determined not to end up the same way, yet here I stood.
Here now, the castle crumbles; the only true home I have ever known. I would have never admitted it before this moment, but this was the only place I could mold the identity I so desperately craved. The only problem was, I wasted that opportunity. I molded the identity and title I was expected to hold, and now, all I hoped for was that identity to disappear.. because now I saw the truth very clearly.
Everything that was important before, it didn't matter. None of it made an impact, not an impact that would be remembered as anything significant. The only thing that made a real difference was this boy, no, man, that stood in front of me as my body shook in fear and my voice dripped with malice. Compared to him, I was nothing. He wasn't only significant because of who his parents were, or how he survived. He was significant because he cared. His heart bled, and his eyes shed tears. Everything he did and everything he felt was real. The influence he had on those around him, it made my voice sound like a pin drop. I was used to feeling large and powerful; I promised myself long ago I would never let someone make me feel small. 
Yet here I stood.
"But he's there! Potter's there. Someone grab him!" 
It was the first time he had truly looked at me in all the years I had known him. The boy who lived, the ever so capable and brave. If he had looked at me two days ago, hell, two minutes ago, I would have scoffed, but now I was frozen. It was like I was stunned by a spell that had just been cast. 
I expected hatred and anger in his eyes, but instead, all I saw was pity. Pity was something I wasn't used to. It was exactly what I needed for the switch to flip.
I was in the wrong. Everything about this was wrong. This wasn't me, this wasn't what I wanted. This identity I created was a mirage. 
I didn't hear what happened after that; time no longer existed. I was being pushed back down into my seat by Blaise, and Goyle was muttering something under his breath. The Great Hall erupted in cheers as I was suddenly being escorted away and pulled up from the seat I had just re-occupied. 
Pansy Parkinson, the cunning and outspoken, how foolish she looked now.
Before I knew it, I was in a cell in the dungeon. Blaise was next to me with his head in his hands. Goyle was nowhere to be seen. It was eerily quiet, other than the booms you could hear from above. I was convinced we were the only ones left in the dungeon. I had no idea how much time had passed.
"Pansy," I finally heard, "Pansy."
It was a hoarse whisper, and one I realized quickly was from Blaise. 
"How long have we been here?" I asked him.
Blaise didn't look up, "I don't know, but you went into some kind of trance. I had never seen anything like it. We need to get out of here now-"
"We don't deserve too, not after everything. Who I am, who you are, it's a lie. It means nothing we are just-"
My voice trailed off. He didn't respond at first, but then he replied, "I know."
I turned my head to look at him, and he was already looking at me. We had always been kindred spirits; if anyone understood my newfound epiphany, it would be him. 
"We can make it right," he finally said, "We just need to leave, like the others, only, we leave to fight, not save ourselves."
I leaned my head back against the stone wall and closed my eyes. I always told myself fighting was in my nature, but really, running away was. It was a lie I told myself to convince myself I was strong and unafraid. 
"Okay," I agreed, "It's time to go."
It was as though everything moved in slow motion; I had no idea where to look. Blaise was tugging my arm as we ran around corners, but when I saw Harry again, I stopped in my tracks. I was completely exposed. Anyone could attack me at any moment, and it was like I no longer cared. A battle was ensuing in front of my very eyes, but one was also present in my heart.
Every memory of my mother suddenly ran through my head, all the memories I tried to bury deep. The way she would french braid my hair after a bath, her laugh when I tried to walk in high heels for the first time at the age of five, the way she believed in me and who I would become. My heart ached, and I closed my eyes. I only hoped in that moment that I would be reunited with her.
As I felt my body fall to the ground, I couldn't help but smile. This was it, this was the end. Potter was here to end my misery. My mirage would finally disappear.
"Are you okay?"
I expected it to be my mother's voice I heard, but instead, it was his. The voice I least expected to hear. 
I opened my eyes and saw his looking down at me. His body was covering mine protectively, and Blaise was nowhere in sight. We were alone.
"I-I-"
"A Death Eater started to come after you. I thought it was odd so I-"
I sat up slowly, which brought my face closer to Harry's. He didn't back away. He stared at me in confusion. I wondered if he was confused by my reaction or his own.
"Why would you save me?" 
I didn't remember forming the sentence in my mouth, but it came out before I could stop it.
"I-I don't know," he admitted.
I knew the world was crumbling around us, I knew I was no one.. no one compared to this significant man in front of me. I knew that he would recoil, but I didn't care. He had to know that he had changed me.
I brought my hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. I did not break eye contact; he didn't even blink.
"Thank you," I whispered.
I couldn't look away; I was in a trance again. For the first time in years, I saw myself again.
I watched as a slight smile formed on his lips, but he was gone as quickly as he had appeared. I swore I imagined it.
There I was, afraid and alone, but not for long. 
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Text
Cross posted on Ao3
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A Bitty Drabble Series
- || Prologue -
Masterlist || Next >
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- || Summary -
A series about you and your bitties.
Redoul was your first bitty. He was an unknown kind of Fell bitty that ended up being sold to a bitty fighting ring when he was still young. He was able to escape with the help from his cellmate and his cell’s neighbor, who helped him sneak out and run away.
Redoul, who’s life was saved by you, ended up falling in love with you... and you accepted those feelings and returned them.
...But as the story goes on, you soon find and meet those old friends of his, and they become just as important to you as Redoul is.
Of course, you don’t stop at just your three LV ridden bitties, and take in more as time goes on.
...Although, none of your more recent bitties have quite the same amount of LV as your first three do, and they might just be a little scared of the trio at first, but with time they do get along and eventually do find comfort in one another.
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- || Notes -
The story is fairly lighthearted, so there’s not much drama nor angst, but the reader’s first three bitties share a rather unfortunate background in a bitty ring, but their background isn’t really the main point of the story.
The chapters are (or are planned to be) in chronological order, but there might be some significant time skips in between the chapters—especially between the prologue and chapter 1. If you get confused while reading you’re more than welcome to ask any questions you may have!
I’m writing this as I go, and there isn’t really any end point I’m looking to get to, since this mostly just me writing for my own enjoyment and to get my thoughts and ideas out, so a lot of the story is up in the air right now. There also isn't any sort of schedule I'm following for writing/posting the chapters, so the time between each chapter will depend on when my motivation decides to kick in...
On the other hand, if you have any ideas you want to share as you read, I would love to hear them! This isn’t me taking requests, so if you have an idea I don’t end up using please don’t be upset. I’m just trying to have fun, and I want you guys too as well!
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     It was late, nearly past midnight as you laid there on your mattress, scrolling through your phone. It was your first night in your new house, and the moving van wouldn’t be there until the morning. The only things you had with you were the boxes and mattress that you were able to cram into the minivan that your friend let you borrow. Admittedly, you were able to pack quite a few things with you after playing the minivan version of Tetris, but that game was no stranger to you.
     You had done a lot of moving around when you were younger, never staying in one play for more than a few years before moving on to the next home. For every move you had gone through, your mother always had a minivan to do it with.
     You would be shocked at how many things you could fit inside of one. You even remember moving a whole couch in one at one point!
     Throughout those years of near constant moving in your life, your mother had gone through three different minivans and both you and your mother loved each and every one of them to their very last days. It was only until you were fourteen did your family finally settle down somewhere where your parents were likely going to stay for the rest of their lives.
     After about a year there, when the third minivan that had taken your family there was finally starting to come to the end of its life, your parents decided to get new cars for themselves. And since there were no plans on moving again your mother decided, for the first time since for as long as you could remember, to get a vehicle that wasn’t a minivan.
     That aside, your friend, Allira, is someone you’ve known since you moved to this little town in what felt like the middle of nowhere. She owned a flower shop you would often visit to buy some plants to help liven up your little apartment with, and after the first few trips, the two of you hit it off and eventually exchanged numbers—you’ve been close friends ever since.
     The minivan that she owned was most often used for their little business; transporting the plants from point A to point B when it was needed, but in this situation, Allira was kind enough to let you borrow it for your move.
     To be honest, you were debating on getting a minivan for yourself at some point, but in the end you decided to settle with your little car for now and instead move out of your old apartment and finally get yourself a place to truly call home.
     Though to be honest that wasn’t your plan to begin with at all, sometimes life throws you a deal you simply can’t—or more don’t want—to pass up.
     Like now.
     You see, it all started when you ended up becoming friends with a sweet old man who you’d often have a cup of coffee (or hot chocolate) with after you were finished with your work for the day. When you first met he was sitting alone at a table in a coffee shop, looking far too lonely for you to ignore. Which was unusual in and of itself, since you usually didn’t pay any attention to the people around you any more than you had to, but perhaps you were in a good mood that day. Either way, you ended up going up to the man and offering to sit with him to keep him company. Mr. Luther, or Grampa Luther, as he insisted on you calling him, was delighted to have the company, and that’s what started a long lasting friendship you weren’t expecting to make that day.
     Ever since, you had been going to that coffee shop after work every day to keep Grampa Luther company and listen as he told any story that came to his mind.
    Unfortunately, after three years had passed, Grampa Luther finally came to the end of his time and passed away peacefully in his sleep. It was sudden for everyone who knew him, really. His house was just outside of town and was within a short driving distance of his favorite coffee shop. He drove there almost every day and never had any trouble, but you suppose it truly was simply his time to go when he passed that night.
     In the end, you decided to buy his little house a few months after it went up for sale. And perhaps it was an odd thing to do, since you’re not even related to him, but something in you felt at peace with your decision, so you decided to stick with it.
     You sigh, and shake your head. Reaching over to your phone charger, you plug in your phone and set it to the side for the night. You rolled over onto your side and tucked yourself into your blankets, settling in for the night as you let sleep slowly take you.
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     You wake up slowly, the light of the morning sun peaking through the windows of your room, softly brushing against your face.
     You sigh, letting your body wake at its own pace. You always did love waking up with the sun, it just felt so nice. You couldn’t quite describe nor explain why, but you always seemed to be in a better mood throughout the day if you got to wake up to sunlight seeping through your windows. Your eyes open, and you stretch, feeling your muscles pull taut as you do so. After hearing a few pops you relax and yawn, laying on your back as you stare at the ceiling. After staring for a few minutes… and doing what was probably the human equivalent of a computer booting up, you roll your tongue across the inside of your mouth to try and rid it of that odd morning taste you seem to sometimes get after you sleep. Finally, deciding that laying in bed wasn’t going to do anything, you bravely roll off the bed and onto the floor, taking your blankets with you.
     Your mattress was on the floor, so there wasn’t much of a drop, and with the cushioning of your blankets the “fall” is painless.
     Sighing once again, you pick yourself and your blankets up and finally stand. 
     You pause, and search your memory for where the bathroom is, only to remember that the master bedroom—where you are right now—has a bathroom connected to it. You drop your blankets onto your bed and walk towards the bathroom, fighting back a shiver brought forth from the cold morning air.
     …you were an odd mix of “morning person” and “night owl”, and not even you were quite sure how that worked. While you liked waking up with the light of the sun, you always had to fight yourself into actually getting up and not going back to sleep. While on the other hand, you could stay up until ungodly hours of the night and still not feel the backlash of “staying up too late”.
     You could fall asleep just around midnight and still wake up with the sun at six AM.
     Perks of not needing as much sleep as most people, you suppose.
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     Later in the day, after hours of unboxing and organizing, you walk around and admire your work so far.
     Everything was only about half finished. The great room had a couch, loveseat, coffee table, and a TV still in its box, waiting to be mounted on the wall above the fireplace. The coffee table was oval in shape and made of dark wood, and resting on top were some flowers your dad sent to you in celebration for your move and some remotes for the TV and sound system—the sound system itself waiting in its own box to be set up. Surrounding the coffee table was a large black couch and matching loveseat, the colors nicely contrasting with the off-white walls of the room. The floor was a dark brown wood with a white carpet on top. The fireplace was made of dark gray stones and was sitting in the corner of the great room, angled in a way that it could face diagonally into the center of the room.
     “I’ll have to get some new plants to help get some color in here...” you mutter to yourself as you look around the rather monotone room. “Good thing I’ll be able to get my lemon tree from Allira tomorrow—among my other plants.”
     All of the house plants that you had in your apartment were currently staying with Allira for safekeeping, since you couldn’t safely transport them in the minivan with all of your boxes in there, and the moving truck was mainly only moving your furniture, so your plants couldn’t safely go with them either.
     And so, your plants awaited you safely within the arms of your dear friend.
     And among those plants was your precious lemon tree, which you have had since you were a teenager. It’s grown several feet since you first got it and to be honest it’s been due a permanent home in the ground for a while now, with its height now being above your own... you just haven’t had anywhere to plant it until recently.
     To be honest you didn’t really want to plant it, but sooner or later it’s going to get too big and you won’t be able to keep repotting it for much longer. So you plan on planting it either this spring or the next...
     .
     .
     .
     ...Ah, you're getting distracted.
     ...With a small hum, you turn on your heel and enter the kitchen.
     The living room led into the kitchen in an open floor plan. No food was there yet, and the cooking essentials and silverware—among other things—had yet to be taken out of their boxes, so the kitchen wasn’t even half done at the moment. There was an island and good shelving space along with a small four person dining table sat in the open space just outside the actual kitchen.
     The floor of the kitchen was made of cream colored tiles, and the walls a grayish green. The countertops, cupboards, and any shelves were made of a dark wood just a few shades lighter than the great room's hardwood floor.
     Walking over to a door connected to the kitchen/dining area, you opened it to reveal the laundry room. In there was a washer and dryer, along with a sink and small shelving unit built into the wall. Just beyond the shelves was a side door leading outside. Your boxes of cleaning supplies and extra blankets (and one or two pillows) have been emptied out onto the shelves, along with various miscellaneous items tucked away in there for storage purposes.
     Back in the kitchen was a pair of glass double doors leading to your back porch. There wasn’t anything out there yet but you were considering starting some sort of small garden out there, but hadn’t decided on it yet.
     “If I do put a garden out here I could totally turn this place into a little cottagecore house... I mean, I definitely live in the right place for it.” You say as you look to your backyard.
     Your back yard didn’t have much—or anything, really. Your house sat on a large patch of grass surrounded by trees in an oblique circle, with only your long driveway leading out of the circle of trees.
     It would have been a little intimidating, if you weren’t so familiar with the area.
     Farther out was a small, worn down path leading between the trees. You’ve been down that path only a few times, but at the end of the path was a small creek of slow flowing water; the water going down by only three feet at its deepest parts.
     The creek would be a good spot to hang out during the summer time to cool off. However, with the autumn weather as it is now, you have no intention of taking a walk down that path anytime soon.
     And since the trees were stripped bare from their leaves—with the end of fall approaching and winter coming even faster—there isn’t much scenery to look at.
     ...Back inside, on the other side of the room, was a small hall leading to three doors. The doors adjacent to one another were the guest rooms, and the door in the middle was a bathroom.
     You were planning on keeping the extra rooms mostly empty, with the exception of a mattress and a few basic decorative pieces in each of the rooms for guests to use in case you have any over. You thought about turning one of them into an office, but had a feeling you would have rarely ever actually used it, so you discarded the idea for the time being.
     You walked back to your room—the master bedroom—and looked around the space. In the corner next to the door was your queen sized mattress; now off of the ground and placed onto a proper bed frame. Sitting beside your bed was a night stand, holding things like any chargers you had and a small box of trinkets you don’t know what to do with. Your bed was now piled with pillows of various sizes and shapes along with two layers of mink blankets and another blanket you put somewhere in there—all in your preferred colors. Winter was coming soon and you weren’t going to be fighting off the cold with one or two pillows and blankets.
     …Not to mention the fact that you just liked the excessive amount of soft things.
     The cold of the upcoming winter was just a good excuse to indulge in your strange habit of collecting a mass amount of soft things—but that was beside the point.
     The floor of your bedroom was made of the same hardwood as the great room, with a rectangular carpet centered in the room. On the wall opposite to the door was a bay window large enough to seat two people decorated in—lo and behold—various different pillows for cushioning and a thin blanket you had thrown in for easy access when you would eventually use the window. Nestled in the corner at the foot of your bed was a black chair with, yet again, a pillow sitting on it; the chair angled in a way to where it faced near the center of the room.
     The chair was mostly just there to fill in the space, since you already had the bay window, which had plenty of seating room for you—but once again, that was beside the point.
     Finally, on the wall across from your bed were two sliding doors. One led to the master bathroom, and the other to your walk-in closet. The closet held about half of your clothes now, with the rest still waiting in their boxes. The bathroom didn’t have much either, with it mostly being the essentials you brought with you the day before.
     The house had more room than you needed to be honest. Three bedrooms was more than what one person would really need, but you didn’t mind much. More room can always be a good thing to have—so long as it isn’t too much extra room.
     You sit down on your bed and lean back, falling into your pillows. “Hmmm, it’s already past noon… I should go get some food and, y’know, actually get something to fill up the kitchen with.” You breathe in and let out a low sigh, tired from all the work you did that day.
     “Mmmh... I wanna take a nap...” you sigh again. “But if I do that I won’t be able to fall asleep tonight.” With a huff, you sit up and get off your bed, walking over to your shoes you left on the floor.
     Slipping them on and grabbing your purse, you head towards your front door and car—grabbing a jacket along the way.
     “‘M gonna have to unpack my winter clothes soon... it’s getting colder...” you mumble absentmindedly to yourself, starting your car and driving down the long driveway.
     You let your thoughts wander, making a mental list of all the things you needed to buy from the store. It didn’t take long for them to wander into making a list for what you were going to need for this winter.
      ‘With the house being about a twenty minute drive from the town, I’m gonna need to stock up on food before it starts to snow too heavily... I should also get something to help insulate the windows. Mom would use some pretty heavy curtains to keep the warm air in... oh, I should probably stock up on firewood for the fireplace too. The winters here can be brutal. At least before when I was living in my apartment there were people nearby to help if I needed it. But now, out here, it’s a twenty minute drive into town, and a thirty minute drive to the nearest hospital, so I should stock up on medical supplies as well...’
     As you drove down the road, small flakes of white began to dot your front window, melting into droplets as you continued to drive.
     You spared them a glance in surprise, eyes widening at the sight.
     “It’s snowing...? I know autumn is almost over, but snow isn’t supposed to be expected until mid November... What the heck? Hopefully it’s just a light passing, I’m not ready for an early winter at all!” You continue to watch the road, now going through everything you could afford right now for the possibly early winter.
     “Guess I’ll be spending a little more today than I thought... just in case... stars, I am so lucky I’m not short on money, otherwise I would be postponing my moving in and staying with Allira until winter’s over–”
     Before you even knew what happened, something small suddenly darted out of the tree line and collapsed in the middle of the road some distance ahead of you.
      “What the heck was that...!?” You hiss out, swerving to the left to avoid running over it and almost slamming on the break, slowing down to a stop.
     You put your car into park and step out, bracing yourself against the cold air and cautiously approaching the... the whatever it was.
    'Was it an animal? Perhaps it was injured and it had tried to cross the road?'
     Pieces of snow drifted down softly, bits of it landing in your hair and melting into it, slowly but surely damping it.
     You walk forward, and come to a stop a few feet away from the thing that fell onto the road.
     It...
     .
     .
     .
     ...It was a bitty.
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Thank you for reading!
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l8rhader · 1 year
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writing ask meme: 7, 17, 18 💜
7. What is your deepest joy about writing?
In real life, happy endings seem unachievable and few and far between. When I write, I get to guarantee that someone is happy. Even if it's not 'ride off into the sunset' happy, it's happy enough. It's now happy.
[usually]
17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
Truthfully, I started answering this yesterday and I had a much longer answer, but I closed the tumblr app in the middle of it. XD
My current WIP is a Nick and Jess surprise baby fic because they spend entirely too much time not being together, so I wanted to fix that. One thing that won't really make it in is the continued hesitance of Schmidt. I wanted to keep it fluffy and happy and, as much as I think that Schmidt especially, would have had some less than supportive things to say if they'd realized they were pregnant around the time they broke up in the show, I was NOT going to write that. :) Another thing that didn't make it in was a phone call with Jess and her sister or Nick and his brother. Their parents, yes. But I don't feel confident that it's not already too long and adding in their siblings would just make it longer.
18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.
From Will My Love Grow?
"Did he call?"  Richie shook his head and focused straight out of the windshield.  
"No, he showed up in looking for Frank," Went answered.  He looked over at his son, so much older and still, like this, so much the same little brat he'd been when he was 12.  "Do you want to tell me what happened or do you just want me to drive you home?"
Richie hung his head, staring at the spot on his thumb he'd torn open.  "Is there a third option?"  It was a joke, really.  He had planned on calling Went later anyway, but the fact that Went did, indeed, have a 3rd option- well, at the very least a stall before he had to pick one- made it easier.
The little diner was abandoned at that hour, too late for dinner, too early for late-night.  Went pumped quarters into the jukebox and, like he always did when presented the opportunity, Richie punched in song after song.  When he got to The Chordettes, he paused, flipping to the next record agitated.  
Went let out a low whistle.  "That bad, huh?"  Richie looked at him, confused.  "You've played Eddie, My Love on every jukebox you've touched that had it since you first saw it.  You were probably 9?  What happened?"
"I'm sure he told you," Richie said, flipping the card back and forth.
"He did."  Went took a sip of his coffee, then folded his arms.  "I want to hear it from you."
Richie stared up at the neon shadows chasing on the ceiling.  “He scared me.”  Richie told Went the whole story, how he felt, what they’d both said that morning.  Went nodded along, following the story intently.  “I didn’t know if something had happened and then this morning, I was so relieved that he was okay but I was so pissed because, then, why didn’t he let me know?  If he had a project come up, there are payphones literally all over campus.  We saved up to buy a cell phone for the car for just that reason.”  Richie tapped at his napkin with his fork.  He hadn’t meant to blow up, but Eddie had accused him of hovering and that was something he didn’t do.  If that was what Eddie thought was hovering, what was he supposed to do.  “So, I told him that if he didn’t want me around, I’d figure something else out.”
Went sighed, shaking his head at his son.  “But you didn’t mean that.”
“Of course not.”  
But that was where Eddie had gotten the idea that Richie was going to leave.  “You know he thinks you do, right?”
He shook his head.  “He can’t think that.  He knows that I love him.  He knows he’s my soulmate and I would never-”  Richie took one look at his father and folded.  “Is that what he thinks?”
“Don’t you remember what his mother said about you?  About me ?”
Suddenly, it hit him.  It all hit him.  He didn't think about it much, at least not in a direct sense, but Eddie... Fuck.  Eddie had gone through so much and, of course, him leaving when they had a fight was “Is he still at your place or did he go home?”
“I told him to go home.  He might have stayed with Frank for a while, but that was hours ago.  He’s probably home by now.”  Went gave his son a soft smile.  They’d figure it out.  Still, it was nice to know that they still needed a little guidance, a swift kick in the ass every once in a while.  “Do you want to get our food to go?”
“Yeah.  And I should probably grab dinner for Eds.”  Richie scooted out of the booth to go find their waitress.  Went pumped in F8 on the jukebox and smiled as the familiar doo-wop song flooded the air.  As Richie had done a million times since he was little, he turned around and stuck his tongue out pointedly at Went.  Went returned it by blowing him a kiss off the tip of his middle finger.
This is actually thoroughly based off of a real life story for me.
My first crush was a boy named Eddie. I had a crush on him all throughout elementary school. Literally from kindergarten until the day I met [redacted for ick factor because you know me irl]. My parents used to take me to this little silver diner in Lancaster PA and Eddie My Love was on the jukebox. And, of course, me being me, I found it and, me being me, I would play it all the time. It was something I'd wanted to utilize in a Reddie story for ages and finally, I found a time for it. It's such a stupid little thing, but it's very true.
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darkcavewriting · 1 year
Text
Day 3 Pt 1
Orientation was the last thing I wanted to do today. I, for some reason beyond the grasp of my mind woke up before 6:00 a.m. This was not even common during high school, and here I am wide awake and ungodly hungry. I groped around the bookcase for the coffee filters and the can of coffee so that life would actually seem possible after my first cup.
Between the coffee in the pot and the frozen waffles in the toaster I knew the morning would be survivable, somehow. Coffee was pretty much my only vice, then again at 18 it was about the only legal option I had, besides cigarettes, and they had no appeal to me, so coffee it was, by the pot full. I screwed around online, checking my email and generally wasting time before the 9:00 a.m. orientation. I figured that a shower would probably be in my best interest so I took one, threw on some shorts and a Winterhawks shirt and made my way out to Reese Court, the basketball arena where it was to take place. Orientation as I was expecting was boring. Basic college stuff which was covered in high school, and just common knowledge. Three hours of my life I knew I would never get back. When I got back to my room I saw my cell phone, I thought I took it with me, apparently I didn't, I checked for missed calls or text messages, hopefully from Grace, but there was a missed call and voice mail from my grandparents instead so I listened.
The message was slightly urgent and told me to call them immediately. This was very uncharacteristic for them, so call immediately I did, the news that they told me had me slink to the floor instantly.
“Your parents died in a car crash, they drove off a cliff outside Chelan today, we don’t have any more information other than that right now,” is what my grandmother told me.
I didn't have any idea how to react, other than I starting to cry. Even though I didn’t always see eye to eye with them, and moved to Cheney to be away from them for the first time in my life. I did not want them dead, but they were now and there was nothing I could do about it. I was in a state of shock, obviously and really had no idea how to react, nothing can prepare you for something so sudden and unexpected like that. I told my grandparents that I couldn't talk now and that I would call them back later to find out anything else I needed to know or if they had any more details on anything. It wasn’t like them to drive off a cliff or anything, my parents were both exceptionally cautious drivers and the Vanagon wasn’t exactly difficult to control, or possible to drive at a high rate of speed either.
I leaned against my bed sobbing, I had never had to deal with any deaths in the family. Now totally out of the blue this happened and it just blindsided me. I was in a complete state of shock. There was really no other way to describe it. I had to have sat there for at least two hours just sobbing and shaking. They had their faults, of course, more than some, less than others but they were my parents, and I did love them, and now there were gone and there was nothing at all I could do about it. The relationship with them wasn’t exactly strained, and the largely let me be my own person growing up. I just wanted a proper taste of freedom away from family, which is the biggest reason I picked going to school here in Cheney. They had always been supportive of me, academically, and athletically, but at times they weren’t the most supportive in other ways. When I showed signs of my horrible self confidence when I was younger, in elementary and middle school, they did little to help with things, or see about taking me to a therapist.
My phone started to vibrate on my desk, I grasped for it and looked at who was calling, it was Grace. I managed to somehow say hello, even though I could barley talk. She could instantly tell that something was wrong, and said she would be down to my room in a minute.
Under a minute later I could hear the knocking at my door. I struggled to get up and open it. She walked in and I could tell by the look on her face that she was genuinely worried. I spelled it all out for her, how I heard from my grandmother and then proceeded to go into a state of shock. The look on her face was in almost as much shock as the one on my own. There was no way I could communicate verbally right now, so I had to write everything out for her on paper.
“I am so sorry Kenrick, I feel terrible for you,” Grace said. “I can't even imagine how bad it must be after only being here for a day and all of a sudden have your parents are gone, you must feel terrible.” “Believe me, I do,” I wrote. “There is no way I could have ever thought about or expected anything like this to happen to them at all.” “Is there anything at all I can do for you?” she asked. “Short of bringing them back to life, I have no idea, I am really not in a good place mentally right now,” I wrote out. “Is there anything at all I can do for you at all, to make things any easier?” Grace asked. “Seriously I will do anything I can to help you out and make you feel better, you don't need to be feeling like this so soon after moving here.” “I really don't know, my emotions are a complete mess, I don't know what to think about anything right now,” I finally was able to speak out to her. “Do you want to come with me, get out of your dorm room for a little bit and go for a walk or something?” she asked. “Why not, it might get my mind off of things briefly at least,” I managed to choke out. We headed out of the dorm towards the stadium, where there were trails leading up the the water tower she said. Anything was better right now than being stuck in the dorm room with my mind taking control of everything. It was nice to be outside with the ability to let my mind wander more than it was doing when I was in my dorm room. Grace said that she knew quite a few trails in the area, and even up in Spokane and that she would be more than willing to take me hiking with her if I was ever interested in going. I told her I would be, and that I would like to take a shot at climbing Mt. Spokane at some point. “Mt. Spokane?” She said, “That is a piece of cake, no problem.” I was excited to see her optimism, I had always wanted to go hiking when living in Portland but my parents were not outdoorsy in the least, so it was something I never got the chance to take advantage of. Now that I was in the Spokane area I figured I might as well try to take as much of an advantage of the outdoors as I could. Now that I actually had the chance to spend some real time outdoors in the real outdoors, not the city I knew good and well I should take advantage of it, and getting to do so with Grace would be a nice little added bonus as well. We finally made our way up the the water tower and kicked off our shoes and sat in the grass, Grace scooted around so she was facing me. She held out her hands and held mine in them and asked me what I was feeling. “I feel loss, hurt, empty inside, that is the best I can describe it I guess,” I said. “What would you like to try that might make things better?” She asked. “I know you only found out a couple of hours ago, and are still shocked, but is there anything at all I can do for you?” “I really do not know for sure, make sure I don't go crazy, or do anything stupid, or start getting terribly depressed?” I asked. “Well that can't be to terribly hard, especially since classes don't start till next week,” she said. “If you wanted I could stay in your room at night, so you aren’t alone if you want, especially since you have the extra bed.”
“Anything to help you feel more at ease and comfortable, I know how it is to lose a family member, waking up screaming in the middle of the night is a terrible feeling,” said Grace. “I lost a grandmother a couple years ago who I was very close to, and it wasn’t easy at all, it still isn’t some days.”
“You would really do that for me, even though you have only known me for a few days?” I asked. “More than anything right now, you need a friend to make sure you don't do anything drastic, and that you take care of yourself,” Grace said. “And seeing as how you don't know anyone else here I am very willing to be that friend.” “I do have an aunt and uncle in Spokane, but I don't even know if they know about the crash yet,” I said. “I know that if I had to I could go stay with them if needed, but that might not be the best idea.” “Well if you decide to, you can, but at least stay here for tonight, I know you will have to go back to Portland for the funeral I would presume sometime soon,” said Grace. “Very true, I would imagine that it would be held in the next couple weeks at the latest,” I said. “Thank you so much Grace, everything you have offered to do means more than you could possibly know.” “Anytime sweetheart, this is university, you need to make the most of it, everything will all work out in the end, and I will do anything I can to help you out,” said Grace.
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