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navree · 1 year

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ok if you know me you shouldn’t be surprised to know that i really don’t like bridgerton (i know, shocking, a history buff and writer who openly despises bunk theories and shoddy worldbuilding doesn’t like the show predicated on a bunk theory followed by shoddy worldbuilding, stop the presses), but i have watched it, mostly for background noise, but watched it nonetheless, and i think i finally figured out what irks me not just around season 2 of the dumb show but also the fandom response and reactions to the dumb show.

the show, to my understanding, said prior to the season 2 release that they were treating the story between anthony and the sharma sisters as more of a love triangle (which made a lot of fans mad because edwina’s supposed to be one of those characters who exists solely to cheerlead a different character even if it’s at their own expense which is just the worst kind of character), and so fandom is reacting accordingly by treating this as if it were a “team edwina” and “team kate” situation that you see in other tv show love triangles and the like. but here’s the thing. a love triangle, as understood in most media, is that characters a and b like character c, who likes both of them and is torn for a while before realizing that they like character a/b more and thus ends the love triangle.

except that’s not what season 2 of bridgerton was. it’s not that anthony likes both kate and edwina but ends up choosing edwina for a bit before finally realizing his true feelings lie with kate. anthony doesn’t like edwina at all. i’m fairly convinced that he couldn’t differentiate edwina from eve. anthony shows no care or concern for her at all not even as a love interest, but barely as a person, and has no regard for her personal feelings or wants or objectives or desires or literally anything about her. i’d be genuinely surprised to learn that he’s ever felt anything for her beyond the standard feelings we have towards humanity as a whole in knowing better than to do shit like punch randos on the street. this isn’t necessarily a solely anthony problem, the narrative appears to treat edwina exactly the same way which is bad writing because yes, she’s not one of the Main characters of the season, anthony and kate are, but she’s still a major player nonetheless. nor is this necessarily me writing anthony off, there’s a reason for his asshattery that’s been well established both by backstory and by the canon of the show itself back in season 1. the issue for me is that it doesn’t seem that anyone realizes that this is why anthony and kate were in the wrong with the marriage thing.

edwina got a lot of flack from the fandom for being upset at kate and anthony about the whole wedding fiasco, and for holding a grudge for a while afterwards, and a good chunk of that seems to come from that old gripe i mentioned earlier about how edwina wasn’t following her book characterization of being kanthony’s number one cheerleader. but a lot of it is that i genuinely don’t think people understand what the issue is here. yeah, anthony deciding to marry edwina for shallow reasons even tho he knew she wanted a happy love match, while also being into her sister is bad, and kate knowing all of this and still deceiving edwina is also bad. but the core “this is a fucked up thing to do” element in her anger at kate is that kate is very aware of the fact that anthony literally just does not care for or about edwina in any capacity whatsoever beyond what he would care for, like, a lady passing on the street, and she was still willing to lie to edwina and let her enter into a marriage with someone like that, not only not giving edwina the full information to make her own informed consent about whether she wants to be in this marriage, but also just letting her walk into a situation like that knowingly. like, imagine how psychologically damaging it must be to be married, shackled for life, to someone who probably wouldn’t even remember your last name if it wasn’t the same name as the lady he was actually into. that’s a very valid reason for edwina to be mad at the two of them, especially in being mad at kate, considering that a guy screwing you over is one thing, but a close sister doing the same is a whole other level. and if edwina lashes out because that’s a fucked up thing to do, even for the “right reasons”, honestly that’s fair and valid. i love my sister to death but if she was egging on a marriage between me and someone whose only concern about whether i lived or died would be how it affected my sister, i’d be pissed for a really long time.

(and no i’m sorry the “kate was doing it for edwina’s sake like she does everything” doesn’t really fly, you can’t pull the “i do everything for everyone can’t i do this one thing just for me” excuse out when the person you’re “doing everything for” a) never asked you to do it b) never had any expectation for you to do it and c) would have been perfectly content and likely even happier if you hadn’t done. kate’s reasoning is something that needs to get brought up with mary and with idk her regency era version of a therapist, not edwina. that’s not edwina’s responsibility, because most of us generally learn the concept of having to handle our emotions and that how we react to things is on us alone by age ten generally.)

and the worst thing about it is that it’s never resolved. edwina is justifiably angry at the people who hurt her, the fandom’s mad because it’s viewing the situation through a love triangle lens and not the “two people who refuse to admit they wanna fuck and also the poor innocent who got dragged into and very nearly got screwed over as a result” and also because edwina’s being Mean to the primary couple and isn’t hopping up and done in ultimate ship mode for them. and then kate hits her head and that’s it, the justifiable anger is over and done with. i don’t think that edwina should have still been holding a grudge while her sister was dealing with a serious head injury that could have killed her, but that shouldn’t have been the end of the situation. none of edwina’s concerns got addressed or even understood, it’s just that the narrative wanted us to view it as edwina being unreasonable and coming to see the light and the glory of kanthony after nearly losing kate, which makes no sense. as mentioned, edwina’s anger is justifiable, because when you actually look at what happened and not the “love triangle” angle, it is an entirely reasonable anger. that edwina was willing to put it aside when kate was in trouble, because she loves her sister and obviously doesn’t want her dead and is relieved that she’s okay, that works. edwina being immediately over it does not work; her grievances aren’t addressed and it doesn’t seem like the narrative, let alone the characters themselves, understand why she was upset, and thus any reconciliations ring hollow. i mean hell, she doesn’t even get a scene where anthony, like, openly admits that this whole situation was a dick move on his part and sincerely apologize for his behavior and what he put her through, which really only cements how little, if at all, anthony cared about her in any way.

edwina should have been allowed to take her time on forgiveness, and the way that she and kate especially built back trust and rapport should have been vitally important and deep character work, not just for edwina herself and the satisfaction of her arc, but also for kate and for her own development. but instead, edwina’s over it, she’s the cheerleader at long, and she gets dangled the possibility of a consolation prize as her reward for no longer being upset at her fiancé for being an ass and at her sister for violating her trust and nearly putting her a deeply unhappy situation for the remainder of her natural life. it’s bad writing to the extreme and it also makes kanthony both as a ship and as individual people seem like jerks and the total misread of the situation and the hate edwina got for her reaction just makes the fandom seem borderline illiterate.

anyway this is rambly and not very eloquent and likely riddled with spelling errors but i woke up at 5am and made myself mad about this while getting ready for the day so this is my two cents on a specific element i hate about the dumb bridgerton show and its dumb ways.

#personal #anti bridgerton #i know it sounds like i'm being mean about this and like i hate these people #but the thing is i don't care about this show or these characters at all #the only ones i can stand are edwina and the lesbian who wants to figure out who julie andrews is #like there's just so little i like about the show except idk i think that the bridgerton boys' hair and how they were styled was good #but the rest of it is just......nope #and this part in particular is a big ole NOPE #also i made sure to tag this anti so if you need it tagged anything else lemme know but if ANYONE #hops on my dick and gets mad about the fact that i tore this show a new one while it's literally tagged 'anti show'#i will beat you with a metal bat

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potteresque-ire · 3 years

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🏳️‍🌈 Rec post!! A queer film + a queer TV series from Hong Kong ~

1) Twilight’s Kiss (叔·叔) (Dir. Ray Yeung 楊曜愷; 2019)

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Twilight’s Kiss offers a very realistic depiction of two elderly, in-the-closet gays in Hong Kong, who have dedicated their lives building a conventional family before unexpectedly falling in love with each other. It is a quiet film, and the romance is told in the same subtle manner as love is expressed (and not expressed) in their generation. The actors were phenomenal at playing regular Hong Kong men of their age (Pak mentioned he “came to Hong Kong”, ie, he was a refugee from Mao’s China, as the vast majority of his demographics was), which added to the resonance of the story ~ they could’ve been anyone, and anyone could’ve been them.

The director of the film, Ray Yeung, is an openly gay man.

(Long review: Hollywood Reporter) Streaming link to film (with English subtitles; pls ignore and close the pop-up window)

2) Ossan’s Love (大叔的愛) (2021)

The unlikely (and hilarious) love triangle between Muk (Left), Tin (Center) and KK (Right) in Ossan’s Love.

For those who found the name familiar, it’s because the series is a (faithful) remake of the popular 2018 Japanese series of the same name. The Hong Kong version is longer (15 episodes; ~ 40 min each) compared to the Japanese original, and its mood is cheerier, sweeter, and also ... more BL, with the lead characters Tin (Haruta in the original) and Muk (Maki in the original) played by two idols, Edan Lui 呂爵安 and Anson Lo 盧瀚霆, from the very popular local boy band MIRROR.

(Being idols didn’t prevent them from kissing. Not in Hong Kong, 2021.) (Yes, they kissed, and hugged and fought and bantered...)

Ossan’s Love is culturally significant in that it became the first gay drama to be aired primetime in Hong Kong, and by extension, in China. Beloved by the locals, it was also very much discussed—hk-queers expressed their (surprised) joy that finally, they got to see a respectful, dignified presentation of who they are and how they love. More importantly, they got to see HKers, older generations included, glued to the TV for their kind of love story, rooting for the lead male characters to get together.

This signifies a broader acceptance of LGBT+ in the city than previously assumed; this is very important and comforting to the community in June, 2021, when the future of LGBT+ rights in the city is very uncertain. After the 2019 protests, pro-democracy leaders have been arrested and jailed in large numbers; newspaper that advocated for freedom has been shut down. Meanwhile, during the airing of Ossan’s Love , the (in)famous pro-Beijing politician, Junius Ho, claimed the series to have violated the city’s much feared, much abused National Security Law—the law that officially aims to catch “traitors”, but has been used as a “catch-all” excuse to arrest political dissidents and suppress the freedoms of the city. Ho was of sufficient prominence that his words could draw the attention of officials who have been sent from across the mainland-HK border to do Beijing’s bidding.

Also, Ossan’s Love was produced not by the powerful, once popular TVB (local TV station), which, with Chinese investors becoming its major shareholders like many other HK press and media companies, has become very pro-Beijing and conservative. The series was produced by ViuTV, a much smaller station preferred by young, pro-democracy Hong Kongers ... which means the future of the series, of its stars (MIRROR’s members are once-contestants of a ViuTV talent show), of even the station itself is also uncertain.

Hence, I’m recommending Ossan’s Love now ... even if the official version doesn’t have the best English subtitles. The full series is on Youtube (links below); the soundtrack is in Cantonese and (Traditional) Chinese subtitles are available, but English is only available via Youtube’s built-in Auto-Translate function.

For those who would like to catch a short scene of two cute HK boys in love, the last 5 minutes of Ep 11 would be a nice place to watch. You can see how comfortable these two bandmates were with each other—Edan (Tin) had played two supporting roles before this series, while Anson (Muk) had never acted before. Edan and Anson have claimed that being close friends in RL meant their intimate scenes were easy to film (BTW, Anson is gay, Edan isn’t).

Edan Lui (Left) & Anson Lo (Right), Harper's Bazaar HK, May 2021. Edan was a uni student before joining hk-ent. Anson was a dance instructor.

(You can also see why, when I watched the Gg + Dd Happy Camp episode very, very early on in my turtlehood, I assumed Gg and Dd would have ample opportunities to work together again, to play and be happy in front of the camera ... just like how I remembered on-screen couples from my days in HK—the couples, the CPs of the time, would collaborate repeatedly after having demonstrated chemistry and become commercial success—in film and TV projects, in variety shows, in awards ceremonies as presenting guests etc etc. This multi-project collaboration was, and still is, viewed as a Very Good Thing, and not only for commercial reasons. The inter-personal fate (緣份) to play on-screen couples repeatedly, per the tradition of HK-ent, is something of a blessing, talked about as a small-scale version of having the destiny, the luck to be together across multiple lives, multiple incarnations. Actors treasure this kind of collaboration and the HK audience celebrates it, regardless of the marital status of the actors in RL. Entertainment news dedicate articles about it.) (There’s actually an example of that in Ossan’s Love: Kenny Wong 黃德斌, the actor who played the titular Ossan, KK, and Rachel Kan 簡慕華, who played his wife Francesca, had already played husband and wife three times before. Rachel had retired from acting in 2017 and moved to Canada; she told reporters that she returned to shoot Ossan’s Love primarily so that she could play Kenny’s wife again).

* Below is a small warning for Ossan’s Love ~ *

The humour of Ossan’s Love is often wild and zany, especially where it adapts from the Japanese original. Some of it, i-fandomers may find uncomfortable. Notably, the titular Ossan (Japanese, meaning “Older Man”) was Tin and Muk’s boss; and he and Darren, another superior of Tin and Muk, were also part of the romantic story line.

One can argue, therefore, that Ossan’s Love contains a *very* “Me Too” situation; however, this is also why I find Ossan’s Love interesting beyond being a Chinese-speaking gay drama—it is clear that the production team of this series meant no disrespect, and from the series’ reception, it’s also clear that hk-queers and other more progressive members among the audience didn’t see disrespect in the product. This series therefore offers a glimpse to the answers of some questions I’ve had: how does Hong Kong of 2021 translate respect for queers (as well as for older men and women) into day-to-day words and actions? How do these culturally-specific habits in speech and behaviour compare to the norms in, for example, the United States (that I’m familiar with)?

“Political incorrectness” was also found in some of Tin’s internal monologue. However, I thought, perhaps, that was why the series has proven to be disarming to the general audience both in HK and Japan, places with a tradition of homophobia stemming often not from malice, but from ignorance, from sex being considered taboo for so much of the places’ history. Tin, as someone who haven’t seemed to have spared a thought about homosexuality before the story had taken place, spoke the minds of the audiences who aren’t familiar with homosexuality. Muk, meanwhile, presented the perspective of someone who already understood what being gay was and wasn’t about. Tin, therefore, led the audience towards Muk and his views step by step, all the while without being judgemental—how could he be? He was one of them too during his journey. He was the student, and he was also the protagonist who everyone—and I mean everyone—loved (in a rather funny manner :D). 🌈

(Long review: BLwatcher)

Links to Ossan’s Love, official version uploaded by ViuTV: EP 1 EP 2 EP 3 EP 4 EP 5 EP 6 EP 7 EP 8 EP 9 EP 10 EP 11 EP 12 EP 13 EP 14 EP 15

ETA 2021/09/16: Streaming with English subtitles is available here.

#pie metas #pie recs

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knchins · 4 years

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The 16th Year - Hitoshi Shinsou

Summary: Your quirk was destined to awaken on your sixteenth birthday, and it would force you to take to sea-life with your birth parents. No one with your quirk had wanted to stay on land before, but none of them had been so in love at age 15…

Pairing: Histoshi Shinou x Fem!Reader

Rating: G

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Light fluff, some angst, teenage heartbreak

Notes: Hello! This is the first thing I’ve written for the bnha fandom so I hope you enjoy it. I wrote this for the @bnhabookclub Mermay event! This is loosely based off of the old Disney Channel movie “The Thirteenth Year”. A throwback to fellow 90s babies. Special thanks to @hawksward for reading of this for me. <3

She had always accepted him and his dream. The first day they met, when he mentioned that he wanted to attend UA and be in the heroes course, she didn’t laugh. She didn’t sneer and tell him that his quirk was only suited for villainy. Instead of scoffing and looking down at him, she brightly smiled up at him. To her, his dream was perfectly reasonable. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a hero, in fact in her opinion there was quite a romantic ideal to it.

Their chemistry was profound and none of their peers had anything that came close to their magnetism. She had told him that she was quirkless, when the truth was that her quirk was not bound to awaken until midnight of her sixteenth birthday. Currently she had two weeks to tell him the truth. It was a heavier weight than any young teenager should have to bear.

They were in the same class at UA, she had opted to follow him there as she knew her time with him was limited. They had known one another since they were eleven and even then she always knew that her clock was ticking down with each passing second. She dreamed of a way to be rid of her fate, to stay with him and see his ambitions come to fruition, but alas there was no cure for her. In fourteen days she would be a merperson and would have to swim into the arms of the others that were bound to the sea.

She was already exhibiting subtle signs of her quirk. It was little things that she kept under wraps, hoping no one would notice. And in truth, no one did except her adoptive parents...and her best friend.

Shinsou had not brought up her strange behavior. How she was incredibly thirsty all the time, how her skin suddenly seemed drier than usual, or how fast she had become in the water. Weekends spent at the community pool where the two of them liked to relax suddenly made him feel as though she were a fish out of water. He didn’t know how right he was.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?” He asked one night as they sat at their favorite sushi restaurant. Y/N sat stiffly in her seat, chopsticks in midair. How did she tell him? How could she knowingly break his heart like that?

She forced a smile but the sadness shone in her eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you.” She confessed, placing her utensils down. “I’m not quirkless.”

He cocked his head to the side curiously. She had never shown any signs of having a special ability, so the notion that she had been lying the past four (almost five) years seemed a bit ridiculous. Still, he decided to bite. “Alright, what is your quirk then?”

Y/N had never worried about Shinsou using his ability on her. He never had and he told her a long time ago that he never would. She trusted him with all of her heart so any time he asked her a question she simply answered. Other people that knew them thought this was wildly dangerous, especially as they got older. What if he took advantage of her? But Shinsou would never do such a thing. He wasn’t a villain, not in a million years.

“Remember how I told you I was adopted?” She probed, thinking perhaps it was best to start from the beginning. The purple haired boy simply nodded in response. “My parents, they live in the ocean with a colony of other aquatic people….they can’t live on land.”

A deep frown formed on his features. What did that have to do with her exactly? He wondered to himself. Obviously she could live on land. Still, he said nothing as he waited for her to continue.

“People with my quirk, don’t manifest it until their sixteen.” She continued. “They’re bodies undergo a transformation. Their legs fuse and turn into a tailfin. We become ningyo on our sixteenth birthdays.”

Hitoshi continued to stare unblinking. He could typically tell when she wasn’t being series and he waited for a tell to show him that she was totally joking. After a few minutes, when her sad expression did not change, he realized that she was telling the truth. His chest became uncomfortably tight, as if someone dropped a hundred pound weight onto it. The air left his lungs, his tired eyes widening in shock. She was going to leave him? The one person who seemed to support him most? The one person who always uplifted him and encouraged him and cheered for him...gone?

The hurt expression that crossed his usually stoic face broke her. She thought she had prepared herself for this, but in reality she hadn’t. The impending destruction of their relationship was all the more real now that he knew of it. She was certain that neither of them would ever fully recover from this.

“You’re leaving me?” He asked, his voice a whisper that didn’t dare to show any kind of true emotion. The apathy did not match with the words. The disconnect only told her that he was beyond angry with her for never telling him about this. Suddenly, the horrifying thought of having ruined their relationship before her birthday dawned on her and she nearly began to cry right on the spot.

“Not because I want to.” She spoke softly, hand darting out to grab his across the table. “Hitoshi, you know I would never leave you if I had a choice. I care about you more than I care about myself.”

The tears fell freely down her face as she was unable to hold them back. “I love you, you know? I don’t think you understand how much it hurts knowing that we can never actually be together. We’ll always be a world apart.”

He wanted to recoil from her touch, but the sight of her crying caused his anger to recede back into the back of his head. She had never admitted her feelings to him, and while he knew he had been wildly in love with her for years he also had never been able to bring himself to confess it. He was always worried that he would ruin what they had. Little did he know that it would ruin itself one day.

“You love me, Y/N?” He asked, his voice still quiet. This time there was emotion behind it. Raw, tentative emotion that was deeply afraid to be shown. Sometimes he hated his own vulnerability around her. How his walls came down any time you were around. No one knew him better than she did. No one brought comfort to his soul like she did. And now...now she’d be taken from him forever.

“With all of my heart,” she murmured to him, dabbing tears away with her napkin with her free hand. She hoped her makeup wasn’t completely ruined, however she knew deep down that it was. She felt his hand flip over in her gasp in order to hold her palm. She wrapped her fingers around him in return.

“Let’s get out of here.” He said before standing, helping her up with their connected grasp. He left money on the table for the bill and led her outside. There was still that same incredible weight on his chest, despite her confession. It only seemed to make him hurt at the loss of her even more.

She didn’t know where he was taking her until they ended up on the nearby waterfront. They walked onto a long pier and stared out at the ocean in heavy silence for a long time. The only thing they could hear were the laps of the waves against the wooden pillars of the dock.

“Well this isn’t how I expected to spend my Saturday night.” Shinsou finally murmured as he pulled her closer to him. He had wanted to kiss her for so long now, perhaps now the time was right. Perhaps he should also tell her his own feelings. His silence had unnerved her, though he obviously wasn’t repulsed by the thought of her caring about him in a way that exceeded friendship.

They were facing one another now, chests pressed against each other as Shinsou’s other hand slipped around her waist. He had never done anything like this before. They both felt incredibly awkward at the closeness, cheeks glowing pink with uncertainty. “Me either.” She mumbled back to him, voice quaking. This kind of embrace went far beyond a platonic hug.

“Y/N, can I kiss you?” He asked, his voice dropping low as his eyes were glued to her lips. Both of their hearts were hammering within their chests so loudly that it was deafening.

Her eyes blinked slowly as she lifted onto her toes to connect her lips with his softly in lieu of a verbal answer. The future hero was taken aback, so much so that he nearly stepped away from her. He hadn’t noticed her desperate grip on his shirt of the tightening of her hand around his. The simple need to be kissed by him too much for her to simply wait.

Slowly his eyes closed and he reciprocated, lips pressing against hers in a chaste kiss that was over way too soon. Neither one had ever kissed someone before. It was perfect in every conceivable way.

Before another word could be said, they kissed again and again until the moon shone high above the water. Only when their curfews edged closer did Shinsou decide to walk her home.

He kept her hand held securely within his own, never wanting to let it go. Finally they could express how they felt with one another. The years of tension were gone only to be replaced with longing for what could have been. The walk back was torture as they both knew the time to revel in their mutual feelings would only extend for the next two weeks.

The time spent until her sixteenth birthday, Shinsou and Y/N were inseparable. While before it was common to see them together, studying for school or just hanging out, now it was more steadfast for them to be attached at the hip. They were constantly touching each other in one way or another, her arm wrapped around his or their hands holding as they walked. His hand on her knee when they sat next to each other or even sometimes his arm around her shoulders when they watched a movie. It was small and innocent.

“Hitoshi.” She whispered to him sadly as they sat on the dock on the eve of her birthday. At midnight she would return to the sea from which she came as a newborn. “Do you promise to never forget about me?”

She knew her request was selfish, but the thought of being totally erased from his life had plagued her tremendously. They had grown infinitely closer over such a small amount of time. Shinsou was staring at their reflections in the water. The question seemed completely absurd to him, as how could he ever forget his first love?

“I could never forget you.” He said honestly, not noticing that she had slipped off her clothes. He was too lost in thought.

Thousands of scales covered her most intimate parts, obscuring them from view. Her legs were already beginning to ache as she sat down on the edge of the pier, toes touching the water. Shinsou seemed outwardly unfazed by her lack of dress. Really seeing her figure without obstruction for the first time made him wildly uncomfortable with arousal. Obviously it wasn’t the time nor the place for that, but it was still a teenage boy pumped full of hormones.

Y/N plucked a shining scale from the center of her chest and held it out to him, a sad smile on her delicate lips. “You have to promise.” She said in a voice so soft that he almost didn’t hear it.

He took the turquoise scale and held it tightly in his palm, never wanting to forget the feel of it. “I promise.” He said, sounding totally defeated. Would he ever see her again? She said she would come to this pier as often as she could at night to visit him, but he simply did not know if she would be able to keep her word. The insurmountable pain rendered him unable to even cry at his loss.

She slipped into the water as his watch beeped to signal the turning of the hour. She was totally obscured by the darkness. Two minutes later, a small head popped from the water and he noticed a swirling of scales scattered down her neck along with what looked like gill slits.

“I love you.” She said one last time, as if he’d instantly forget unless she reminded him. His heart trembled in his chest as tears finally did threaten to fall.

“I love you too.” He said resolutely, and then she was gone.

#bnhabookclub #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou #shinso #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x reader #shinsou imagine #bnha #mha #shinsou hitoshi #shinso imagine #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction

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faulty-writes · 4 years

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Warning: Mentions of Big Brother Like Utopia.

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: ProHero!Inasa Yoarashi x TimeTravel!Reader

[ Okay, so this is a prompt from @bnhabookclub I normally don’t do syfy, time travel like AU’s. But, I actually had an idea for this. Partly inspired by the song Future Girl, Retro Style by I Hate This Place.]

[ What happens when you feel as though you don’t fit in your world? Where quirks are overanalyzed and you’re placed into careers based on what the government thought your quirk was most suited for? Where you can only become a Hero if you were among the lucky selected? Where advances in technology are beyond your imagination and where time travel exists? What happens when you decide you’d rather live in the past? ]

You couldn’t handle this lifestyle anymore. Most would think this perfect parallel dream world was better than anything your imagination could possibly dream up. It was something only novels from the past described. In your world, amongst the already vast wonders such as quirks, daily space travel, robotic limbs, brain enhancement chips, and virtual reality. Teleportation was the most recognized and beneficial device.

You just had to scan your identification bracelet, select where you in the world or solar system you’d like to go before stepping into the teleporter, then off you went. When the teleportation device was first invented, it was hidden from the public for fear that it would be abused. However, as they perfected the rules and regulations for it. They slowly released it for public use and time travel followed shortly after thanks to various quirk users who helped bring the device to life. Essentially time travel and teleportation are similar, in fact, the only difference was one teleported you to a location while the other a destination.

Those who purchased time travel tickets were given strict rules and were fairly warned of the limitations they had to abide by in the past. No changing historical events, no trying to meet your past relatives, no using your future technology during your stay. However, each time travel participant was tracked through their bracelet which had a clock that counted down and when your time was up, it would admit an electrical discharge that would send you back to the future

Sounds wonderful, right? To most, but you never felt as though you belonged in your time. Given most think it’s magical. You had gotten a brain chip when you were small, which both improved your intelligence and acted like the modern-day internet. It could search, offer suggestions, tell you your location and match up an identification when you laid your eyes upon a stranger. When you had first gotten your quirk, however, one that allowed you to project electrical-like holographic images.

It had caused your bracelet to malfunction and as a result, your hand had gotten damaged. Your parents had the option of allowing you to undergo surgery. But, it was unsure if your quirk ability would be affected because of it. There was a chance your quirk wouldn't even work with your damaged hand, in addition, the doctor’s determined your quirk was not applicable enough to be placed into an actual career that would be useful. Perhaps theater and special effects.

So your parents opted out for a robotic hand, somehow you still hated them for that. At least you could still project your quirk out of your other hand. All in all, you were someone who tended to stay away from others, and while all quirk users were required to go to mandatory training. You were a different case and had gotten transferred to special training which was often reserved for those that had a quirk disability. These training sessions were put in place to determine what your occupation would be in the world.

If you had a healing quirk, you'd go into healthcare. If your quirk dealt with water abilities, you would have the option of choosing one of the many ocean-based occupations. If your quirk happened to give you the ability of speed and strength you were either reserved for careers that required physical labor or you had a chance at becoming a Pro Hero. It was silly. Analyzing quirks to such an extreme, but as the world advanced and villains became more cunning, violent, and threatening.

The government decided to start a program that would divide quirk users and from there they would select the strongest and most promising to defend our world. That being said, even if your quirk was strong you never had the desire to become a hero. However, you had read that once long ago. Young quirk users had the choice to go to various schools that would train them to become great heroes. You always imagined how nice that would be, having somewhat of a free will to do with your quirk as you pleased.

Maybe that's why you felt as though you never fit in, and as of late, your thoughts were starting to keep you up at night. Which is what finally led you to make a dangerous decision. You managed to stow away on a supersonic time machine. It was similar to a train though trains of yesteryear had long since ceased to exist. Those on the machine would have assigned seats that were labeled with the year and date they wanted to travel to. When the machine reached a certain speed, it would generate enough power to create a rift and send everyone to their destinations.

You weren't sure what year you wanted to go to, however, you had done some studies and at the last moment, made the choice to travel to the time where hero students still went to a physical classroom and Pros were still ranked. Which was rather silly. Still, given the fact you did not purchase a ticket. Your biometric signature was not registered, which meant you wouldn't appear in any location in particular. It would be randomized, but you didn't think it would result in you falling through the sky.

You screamed out and your body swirled and flipped around, unable to control anything. Your arms and legs flailed, hands reached out and fingers parted as if trying to grab onto gravity itself in order to stop. But alas that wasn’t possible, you could see the tall buildings of what you assumed to be Tokyo, and shouts echoed from the citizens below. Your heart was racing, dread filling you as you quickly realized there was no way you'd make it out of this alive.

Go figure, you finally escaped your time only to end up dying. Life was a bitch. You swallowed, feeling your tears float through the air before you covered your face. Just waiting for the impact of the ground, but instead, you felt the wind current change. It was gentle and seemed to carry you. "Hm?" you slowly lowered your hands, gasping as you found yourself floating. Swirls of wind surrounding you and for a moment you felt safe.

You looked down at the crowd of people, all of them in as much awe as you. But when a laugh pierced through the air, you turned your head. You could tell it was a male and your eyes widened as you saw them come into view. They were tall, your chip analyzed them to be approximately six feet, seven inches. They had dark hair, though it was shaved. They wore an enthusiastic smile and their outfit was rather strange. Clad in colors of red and white. He had a furry collar around his neck and short sleeves.

He looked to have a strange glove on his right hand that hooked into a device strapped to his shoulder and a long cape flowed behind him. "YOU BEST BE CAREFUL." he bellowed and you winced at the volume of his voice. Sheesh, could the guy talk normally? Well, it didn't matter. You were more or less happy when you finally reached the ground, though you pressed a hand to your chest. Taking a deep breath to calm your racing heartbeat. That underline feeling of fear slowly disappearing as the man approached you.

You trembled a bit as he laid his hand on your shoulder, "Are YOU alright?" he asked and honestly, you could only shrug in response. The truth was you weren't sure, your trip to the past had been successful. But you didn't know where you were, you had a rough idea of the year. That is if you had exited the machine at the correct moment. "I'm fine…" you replied before looking around, you could hear the crowd shouting and cheering. The name "Gale Force" was repeated over and over again and you could quickly assume one thing.

Your chip offered to search the name for you, but you refused, the direct approach would be better. "Are you a hero?" you questioned and he seemed to get some amusement from your question. "OF COURSE. Please, call me Gale Force!" he said before bowing and you stumbled back as his head collided with the pavement. Your eyes widened at the action and your chip went through suggesting possible mental disorders Gale Force might have.

But you quickly silenced your chip and cleared your throat, reaching up to tug at your shirt before you noticed something. A gasp left your lips as you saw there was a tear in the artificial skin of your robotic hand. Underneath revealed the gray surface and a few small wires that looked damaged, was that from the electrical discharge of the machine? "Hm?" Gale Force stood back up, tilting his head as he noticed you were staring at your hand with great intensity.

“Is SOMETHING the MATTER!?” he questioned and once more you winced at the volume of his voice. “Uh...nothing.” you insisted, hiding your hand behind your back. However, it didn’t seem like he was buying it and stepped closer. “Are you SURE?” his eyes scanned you as your foot kicked up dirt. “Well…” you were a little hesitant to show him, the rules of your time echoed through your head. But, if you planned to stay in this time. Did it really matter?

He watched as you took a deep breath and slowly showed him your hand, he looked confused until he leaned closer. A gasp sounded from him as he noticed the metal underneath your skin. “W-What is WRONG with your hand!?” he exclaimed, and you looked away. A small amount of fear filling you, how were you going to explain the fact you had artificial skin over your robotic hand? Did they have robotic limbs in this time?

You weren’t sure, though his reaction wasn’t as bad as you expected. A faint blush painted your cheeks, you felt a little embarrassed and scared. But regardless, your chip provided different scenarios for you, what you could possibly say or do if the situation went haywire. But you didn’t want to listen to any of it and instead, put on a brave face. “I...have a robotic hand, the skin you see…” you paused and pulled at it, “is nothing more than silicone refinement fused with epidermal stem cells to give the appearance of real skin but still remain flexible enough to-” you paused when you saw the confused look on his face and rubbed the back of your head.

“Uh, it’s like a sleeve to protect it from damage.” might as well cut to the chase, as soon as you spoke those words, Gale Force’s eyes lit up. “AH!” he began, “I see, that’s INTERESTING! I did not know such a THING existed!” you almost wanted to chuckle, in this time they didn’t...yet. “Yeah well...it’s not too damaged but,” you grabbed at the skin once more, taking a look around. You frowned and slowly pulled the skin off, revealing your small metal fingers.

Gale Force’s jaw dropped as he watched you wiggle them, “Some of the wires got damaged.” you said, pointing to the palm of your hand. “Hm?” Gale Force stepped behind you, hand to his chin as he looked over your shoulder. An easy task when he already towered over you, “Hm, AH YES! HATSUME would know how to fix IT!” he declared with one arm raised and you jumped away from him, he went from quiet to loud in a matter of seconds. It was a little annoying.

But you blinked, “Hatsume?” you repeated, your chip searching the name. “YES! Hatsume, she is a rather well-known hero support agent! She is VERY intelligent and GIFTED. Surely she will FIX your hand in no time. Come!” he insisted before reaching out to take your hand, you tried to protest but it seemed like Gale Force was determined to help and there was very little you could do to stop him. He talked the whole time as he guided you to Hatsume’s workshop, though you drowned most of what he said out.

You were too fascinated with taking in the sights around you. A certain sense of nostalgia hit you and it made you smile. There were heroes depicted everywhere and a sense of freedom was in the air. “HERE WE ARE.” Gale Force declared and you snapped out of your thoughts, turning to see a large workshop. You could hear commotion coming from inside and looked back to Gale Force, “Is it safe to go inside?” Usually, you could repair your robotic hand in an instant, all you had to do was place your hand into a cylinder scanner which would take a 3-D x-ray.

Effectively determining the problem before repairing it, which only took a moment. But, you were going to a repair shop instead? How interesting. Gale Force smiled at you, “YES!” he responded, almost a little too happy for your taste. You frowned before looking at your hand once more, a small spark was coming from the wires and you sigh. “Alright.” you squeezed his hand before actually registering you were still holding it.

A blush came to your cheeks, “Uh …” you said, effectively catching his attention. “Yes?” he questioned with a bright smile and you loosened your grip on his hand. “You’re still, you know …” you said, pointing at your conjoined hands. He glanced down, “Oh!” he exclaimed before laughing, “Your hand must be too precious to let go of! SORRY!” he released his hold, though you could see a faint blush on his cheeks as well before he reached up to adjust his hat.

He cleared his throat and walked to the large metal door, you shivered at the eerie sound of it squeaking as he pushed it open. “HATSUME!” he bellowed and you swallowed before quickly walking behind him. Curiously looking around, there were various tables covered in tools and scraps of metal, even some things that looked to be half-finished inventions. It was like a robot’s worst nightmare, you shivered and turned your attention to the sound of humming.

“Hm?” you blinked and looked past Gale Force to see a woman, she was short and had long pink colored dreadlocks. She was covered in oil and what looked to be soot. She was dressed in a baggy tank top and sweatpants with unusual footgear, the pads of which glowed. You reached up to tap your chin, was it an inferior hover device? That was the only thing you could come up with, however, your thoughts were cut short when you heard Gale Force speak.

“Ah! HATSUME! I have something that could use YOUR AID!” you blinked, did he really have to say it like that? The girl spun around and you jumped as soon as you saw that enthusiastic, almost crazy look on her face. Her eyes were unique though, it was almost hypnotizing how yellow they were. “WHAT IS IT!? A new project!? Do YOU NEED a NEW WEAPON!?” she questioned and you quickly came to the assumption that her and Gale Force were close friends.

He laughed at her words and you gasped as he reached back and pulled you in front of him. “My FRIEND uh,” he paused and looked down at you, his hands firmly on your shoulders. Oh right, you didn’t tell him your name. Even though you should have, “Y/n.” you replied and he smiled, “Y/N! Needs their hand repaired!” he said, taking it upon himself to hold your arm up. The girl known as Hatsume seemed to be overjoyed and in a flash, she was in front of you.

You jumped back, hitting Gale Force’s chest. “It’s alright!” he assured as he dropped his hands from your shoulders. “HATSUME is quite EXCITABLE! But she means no harm! We are friends and we BOTH wish to HELP OTHERS!” he explained and you groaned, they were both so loud. “I see…” you responded before watching Hatsume grin. “Uh…” was it strange to feel uncomfortable with someone’s smile? You didn’t have much time to ponder the question before the girl grabbed your wrist and pulled you forward, her eyes scanning your hand up and down.

“WOW!” she chuckled, “I’ve never seen one crafted like this before!” you wanted to groan but instead, you shrugged. “Uh, yeah...it’s a new model.” you lied, obviously you couldn’t tell her it was from the future. “Hm? What’s THIS?” she questioned as she tugged on the skin that you had decided to remove. It still dangled from your robotic hand, bunched up at your wrist. “Uh, that’s a-” Gale Force interrupted you, “A SKIN COVER! Quite impressive, huh!?” he said as he crossed his arms, a big smile on his face.

“Ohhh, very INTERESTING. But…” for a moment her expression turned dark and before you could register her actions, she had already grabbed the skin and tore it off in one go. You gasped, “HEY!” she didn’t seem to care much for the fact you had screamed at her, “There, now I won’t have anything in my way.” you narrowed your eyes. Were all people from the past like this? Well, perhaps you were overreacting. It was nice to be face to face with someone that was willing to fix your hand.

“Now,” Hatsume pulled her signature goggles over her eyes and rotated your hand, “Ah! I see.” she said as she pointed to the palm, “I can fix those wires in a jiffy!” she said as she leaned away, her head turning back and forth. “Now where did I put that thing…” she muttered to herself before walking off, you frowned and turned to look at Gale Force who just continued to smile. As if telling you everything was going to be okay.

Guess he was right, though you were a little nervous when Hatsume insisted you sit on one of the work tables to properly repair your hand. You were more than certain the abused scraps of metal would jump you at any moment and it had taken a few hours for Hatsume to properly fix the wires, but you were grateful when she was done. The past was very interesting and you smiled as you moved your fingers, Hatsume even placed a metal cover over the wires to ensure no further damage.

You were still upset she had ruined your skin, perhaps you could learn to do without it. “So …” you began, lowering your hand as you turned your attention to Gale Force. “Hm?” he looked at you, the curious expression on his face was almost cute. “What’s your name?” you held your hand up, “I know Gale Force is your hero name,” you said and he smiled, “YES! Do you not HAVE one as well!?” you jumped at his question, your eyes wide and an almost hurt expression formed on your face.

You looked down, your hands curling into loose fists. “I...I-I’m not assigned to be a hero,” you said, before covering your mouth. Damn it! Why did that of all things come out of your mouth? Gale Force looked concerned at your words, his eyebrows lowered in an almost suspicious glance. You shivered and kept walking, of course, he wouldn’t understand. “Assigned?” he repeated before he raised his fist in the air. “But ANYONE can be a hero! You must BELIEVE that!” your eyes widened, “Anyone.” you whispered before squeezing your eyes shut.

“Not me. I never wanted to be a hero.” it was mostly due to your quirk, but even if you had a quirk that was impressive. You doubted you’d want to risk your life for people that didn’t appreciate it, for the world you felt like you didn’t belong in. Yet, despite the fact you had only been in the past for a couple of hours, you could already tell the people were accepting. Something you hadn’t experienced in your own time. Gale Force frowned, he wanted to ask you why. But given your reaction, he thought it best to leave it be.

“Inasa.” he said and you turned your head, “Hm?” you looked confused. “My NAME is Inasa! We didn’t PROPERLY introduce ourselves DID WE?” he extended his hand out to you. “Uh, I suppose not,” you replied, hesitantly taking his hand. You cried out as he enthusiastically shook his arm, making you stumble and your free hand reached out for his chest. “Oh!” he blinked and released your hand, a blush coming to his cheeks.

“FORGIVE ME!” he said and looked like he was about to bow again. But, you stopped him with a quick, “I forgive you, just don’t bow!” and while he looked surprised, he nodded. “OKAY! I just don’t want to be rude to you or lose a valuable new friend!” your eyes widened, “Y-You want to be my friend?” you could feel your face light up and gasped when his hand wrapped around yours, you had almost forgotten it was still pressed against his chest.

He smiled at you, noticing that your face was red. He reached out with his other hand, cupping your cheek. His hand felt soft and warm and it was a gentle touch that you weren’t used to. “Are you BLUSHING!?” you jumped, feeling your face grow hotter as you stepped away. “N-No.” you denied and Inasa chuckled, “Of COURSE, I want to be your friend!” you groaned, willing your cheeks to cool. “O-Oh um, okay,” you said before shyly looking back at him.

His eyes softened as he smiled at you, “Are you hungry!?” he asked and though you found his question somewhat out of the blue, you nodded. “FOLLOW ME! I know a wonderful food cart! I believe it’s around here.” he said and you tilted your head, what was a food cart? Your chip gave you the answer, a mobile kitchen set up on the street to prepare and sell street food to passers-by. You reached up to tap your chin, “Interesting.” Inasa insisted on getting Yakitori, though you didn’t recognize the name.

It was grilled skewered chicken, easy to eat, and a good snack. You could hear Inasa happily eating his portion as you two sat down, the sun was setting and you knew you’d have to find somewhere to stay the night. Perhaps a hotel. “What’s a matter!?” Inasa questioned, yet again making you jump and your heart rate skyrocket for a brief moment. You took your hand off your chest, grateful that you hadn’t dropped your food. But you placed it into the small cardboard tray the food cart had provided and let out a sigh.

“Nothing, I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought,” you replied, your tone flat as you looked at him. He had a small bit of chicken sticking to the corner of his lips and you chuckled lightly at the sight. “Inasa…” you began, “We’ve only known each other for a couple of hours and yet, I’ve really been in your care and…” you trailed off, dropping your hands to your thighs. “You DON’T have to THANK ME!” he declared with another smile. “I was happy to help!” you nodded.

“Yes, I know but…” your hands curled into fists and you looked down, too ashamed to see his reaction when you spoke the next few words. “W-What if I told you, I...I’m not from here…” Inasa frowned at your question and a moment of silence filled the air before he spoke. “OH! Did you just MOVE HERE!?” he questioned before taking another bite of his chicken and you latched onto your lip, hesitant to tell him. But somehow you felt as though he deserved the truth.

“No, I mean I’m not from this time,” you said, wincing softly as you watched his face twist with confusion. “What?” he repeated, blinking as he tried to fully register what you had said. Your stomach twisted and an embarrassed blush came to your face. “Inasa...I…” you squeezed your eyes shut before quickly scrambling to your feet. “N-Nevermind! I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said anything!” you panicked and kicked off the ground, though you weren’t sure where you’d go.

You just needed to leave, it would have been better if you said nothing. Damn it, why did you feel as though you could trust Inasa?! Well, it didn’t matter now. “Wait!” you hadn’t expected Inasa to react as quickly as he did and you felt him grab your wrist, your robotic fingers clenching as he forced you to stop. “Let go!” you demanded, “Please! WHAT did you mean!? I don’t want to hold you back, but I do want to know!” he tried to reason with you, but you shook your head.

“Inasa I shouldn’t have told yo-” before you could finish your sentence you felt your bracelet vibrate. “Huh?” you lifted your free hand, seeing your bracelet surge with electricity. Then a projection came up and your eyes widened as you saw it was the government from your time. “Y/n, identification number 03040715. You have committed the crime of an unauthorized time travel and as such, will receive the proper punishment.” your heart sank in your chest, “What!?” tears began to form in your eyes as your bracelet vibrates violently and that discharge of electricity began to circle your body.

“Y/n! What …” Inasa seemed to be in shock, both because of what he had seen and what was currently happening to you. “Inasa let go!” you demanded, there was no way to stop what was happening. But you needed him to let go and desperately began to beat your fist against his, tears streaming down your face as the electricity grew stronger.

Forming a temporal rift in time behind you, it would only stay open until your biometric signature disappeared. Once it did, that was a clear indication you were well on your way back to the future. “Y/n! What is going on!?” he demanded and you shook your head, your hair flying around like wild as you began to get pulled toward the rift. Inasa’s fingers tightened around your wrist, his knuckles turning white which made you hiss.

You choked out some inaudible words before your feet lifted off the ground, Inasa buckled his own down, his legs bending at the knee. His cape flowing with the wind that the rift was creating. You swallowed and looked at him, a faint smile on your face among the tears. “Goodbye Inasa, thank you for making the past a wonderful place,” you said before your body began to dissolve into the rift, it looked as though you were being pulled apart. But it was a normal process, yet Inasa looked terrified and continued to scream your name.

Desperately trying to pull you back, but a loud snap sounded and he stumbled over his own feet. Hitting the ground as you disappeared along with the rift. “Y/N!” he screamed before gasping, in his hand was your robotic appendage. His eyes widened before he slowly cradled it to his chest, his heart was pounding and it wasn’t often that he felt scared. But what he had just witnessed, what had just occurred. It was unexplainable, a person from another time? Could it be possible? Somehow, he wasn’t sure what to think.

He wasn’t even sure what to do and yet he felt a certain sadness fill his heart. Tears began to stream down his face as he ran his fingers over the robotic hand. “Y/n,” he whispered. “What’s going to happen to you...if you’re...back in your time!?” he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out, but he found himself with a burning desire to save you, and yet he couldn’t. He wouldn’t even see you again, there was no chance of him figuring out a way to the future, and yet somehow he knew the feeling of guilt would weigh his heart down. “If I live to see you in the future...please...be alright,” he whispered.

#bnhabookclub #inasa x reader #inasa yoarashi x reader #yoarashi x reader #bnha reader insert #bnha fanfiction

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flightsoffandom · 4 years

Text

Blood Lust

Pairs: Eric Northman x Gender-Neutral Reader

Words: 3544

Summary: When your friend drags you along to the vampire bar Fangtasia you get some surprising attention.

Warnings: Sexual references but nothing direct. Mentions of biting and blood, I mean this is a True Blood fanfic.

Notes: Left completely gender-neutral. I have no problem writing smut and I actually enjoy it but in order to keep this inclusive to everyone and completely gender-neutral I skipped the smutty bits. I did already use this prompt for a Supernatural and Sherlock One-Shot, but I am wanting to challenge myself by using the same prompt with different fandoms and try to make it as unique as possible.

One-Shot based on @coffin-prompts

“Are those your pajamas?”

“Is that an insult to my style? How dare you!”

When vampires revealed themselves more than a handful of years ago you hadn’t cared all that much. Sure it made night time a bit more dangerous but most of the vampires who lived around you had been at least civil. You hadn’t officially met a vampire until a friend of yours dragged you to a vampire club called ‘Fangtasia’. You didn’t want to be there but you stayed to support your friend and make sure they made it back home safe. While sitting off to the side a few vampires approached you. You held small conversations but politely declined any advances they made. Frankly, you were pretty bored. As the night dragged on you noticed a handsome blonde man on the throne over in the back seemed to be staring at you. You ignored it and tried to focus on anything else. You watched your friend drunkenly flirt with any vampire insight. It wasn’t long before a fashionable woman walked over. She looked incredibly annoyed as she addressed you, “I’m not sure if you are just blind or plain stupid but when someone like him...” She dramatically motions to the man sitting at the throne before continuing. “Is staring at you. That means to go over to him.” You look to the man on the throne who is still staring. He gave off an extremely intimidating vibe. So was the woman talking to you. When you didn’t stand up immediately the woman grew impatient. She crosses her arms, “Don’t make me drag you over there... It would be very embarrassing for you but more importantly...” She turns her attention down to her hands, admiring her nails. “It would really piss me off to ruin them and nobody wants that.” You swallow hard and nod, “Of course.” You look over to check on your friend one last time before standing up. The woman escorts you to the man sitting on the throne.

Gazes seem to fall onto you as you get closer. There was an informal line of people was near the throne that you didn’t notice until now. They seemed jealous which added to the nervousness you were feeling. The woman stops, crossing her arms again. “Eric, I brought your current little infatuation like you told me to. May I leave now?” Her tone is filled with pure annoyance. Eric nods, leaning forward to look at you, “Thank you, Pamela.” Pam growled in response causing Eric to smirk. The way he said her name implied he said her extended name just to annoy her. Pam walked off before anything else was said. Eric leans back in his seat, relaxing but still watching you intently. “You don’t seem to be enjoying my club. Is something not to your liking?” Worried you had offended him you blurt out a quick answer, “No!” You blush and calm yourself down before recollecting yourself. You chuckle nervously, shifting under his gaze. “It’s just I’ve never been one for bars or clubs in general.” You seem to have piqued his interest. Eric questions you, “So then why come here?” You look over to check on your friend again as you answer, “Moral support mostly.” You let your sentence trail off a bit. Eric comments, “That’s no excuse for you to not have a little fun.” Your attention is brought back to Eric when he asks another question, “How about I show you a good time?” When you look back to Eric he is smirking again with a suggestive look in his eyes. You blush and think about your options. Eric was really attractive and while it didn’t seem like the best idea something in your gut told you to say yes. You look up at Eric, “S...Sure, why not.” Even as you nod you still feel a bit nervous. Eric grins and motions for you to come closer to him. You take small steps forward. As soon as you get close enough in a blurred motion Eric picks you up and sits you on his lap. You can’t help but gasp from the sudden motion. Your left sitting mostly sideways on Eric’s lap so you can still see each other’s faces. Eric chuckles keeping a loose grip around your waist. Your cheeks burn as you make a joke, trying to calm your nerves. “Is this the part where you say ‘we will talk about the next thing that pops up’?” You look everywhere else but at him. Eric relaxes, “I could be that forward if you would like.” Eric pauses. He ever so slowly rubs your side as he continues. “But I was planning something more along the lines of sharing a drink and going from there.” You feel your nerves easing a bit as you chuckle, “I like your plan better.” Eric uses his free hand to trace a finger over your neck. Eric speaks softly into your ear, “Would you mind if I start drinking first? I’m starving.” Your body’s automatic response was to stiffen up. As you thought about it the idea didn’t actually frighten you. You steeled yourself before speaking, “Sure.” Eric grins and stands you up, "Perfect. Let's take this to the back then." Eric leads you back into what looks like an office. Once the door is closed behind you Eric turns around and faces you. He pushes you up against the door. You see Eric open his mouth and his fangs popped out. As he gets closer to your neck you close your eyes and flinch in anticipation. However, when the bite happens it is easy to relax. It only hurt at first. After that, it started feeling good.

That was the beginning. That night started an interesting relationship between you and Eric. He invited you back to Fangtasia the following night and you agreed. With that, you came back to Fangtasia almost every night for the next few months. Getting involved with Eric definitely helped you understand why fangbangers chased after vampires. You didn't plan on going to that extreme but you couldn't deny the unique feeling you got around him. Plus the sex was beyond amazing. Biting and drinking became normal. Easily slipping into the sexual part of your relationship. Eric's favorite spot to drink from was your inner thigh. Eric had a thing for leaving bite marks on your neck though. Seemed like his way of claiming you. A lot of your relationship together was sexual but not all of it. You both shared conversations together and Eric even took you on a few outings. You learned more about vampires and their history but only vague details. Plus you learned a bit more about Eric himself. Finding out Eric was over 1000 years old was a bit of a shock and made you further question his interest in you. Eric was hard to read so you weren’t sure exactly how he felt about you. You never pressed the issue, assuming Eric saw this as a fling. You were having fun and wanted to keep having a good time.

So here you were repeating your new nightly routine. When it started to get dark you made your way to Fangtasia. Stepping through the door Pam addressed you without looking up. "Eric's little plaything, right on time." You close the door behind you. Walking further into the club as you speak, “And hello to you as well Pam.” Pam seemed to have warmed up to you a bit, not that it showed much. She tolerated you which seemed to be a feat in and of itself. You made your way back to the office. Knocking on the door you waited for a few moments before just opening it and walking it. Eric sits at his desk, smirking as he looks up at you. “It’s customary to wait for a response before entering.” You walk towards him, closing the door behind you. You humming slightly as you respond, “Maybe but I know you would have actually responded if you were busy.” You sit on the edge of his desk smiling down at him. Eric grins and in a blur, he is standing in front of you. You tilt your head, opening up your neck for him. He grabs your hips, pressing himself into you. Eric moves into your neck. He takes in your scent as he teasingly bites at your skin without fangs. A shiver runs through your body causing you to close your eyes and grip onto the edge of the desk. Eric chuckles at your reaction right before giving in and actually biting you. A moan escapes your lips when he starts drinking. Your hand finds its way to the hem of Eric’s pants. He emits a growl, tightening his hold on your sides. You laugh and start to undo his pants. Right as you get his zipper down there is a knock on the door. Eric releases his mouth from you. He hisses loudly as he responds, “What is so important?” You feel blood running from the bite, already starting to stain your shirt. You pull the fabric from the collar of your shirt to press it against your neck to help slow the bleeding. You hear Pam’s voice from the other side of the door. Pam spoke, “The Authority has stopped by for a little surprise visit.” Normally she didn’t bother Eric when he was with you so this was odd, to begin with. What made it worse was Pam not only sounded more annoyed than normal but she almost sounded worried. You felt Eric’s body stiffen when he hears what Pam said. You also could have sworn you saw Eric’s eyes widen at the news as well. You feel a nervous feeling creep over your body. There is a pause and then silence for a few moments. Suddenly Eric starts moving in a blur to straighten himself out. You stay put not completely sure what to do. When Eric stops long enough that you can see him he looks at you. He focuses on your neck as he speaks, “We need to get that healed up.” Eric bites into his own wrist and offers it to you. You furrow your brow and just stare at him. You had never drunk any kind of blood, making you warry. You open your mouth to speak but stop when Eric finally looks at your face. He addresses your confusion, “It will be fine.” You hesitate a bit but listen to him. You drink some blood from his wrist. The metallic taste was expected but there was a weird feeling it gave you. When you feel healed you pull away, and wipe off your mouth. Eric watched you for a few moments before opening the office door without saying another word to you. Pam was still waiting right outside the door he stopped. Eric says something to Pam in a different language before he left out of sight. Pam walked over to you, “Come on now, stay quiet and follow me.” She grabs your wrist and practically pulls you off the desk. Pam leads you down the hall, away from the main part of the club. She points at a door, marked for the dancers. “Go out the back.” She crosses her arms and stares at you. You whisper as you speak, “What’s going on?” Pam ignores your question and motions to the door again, “Out the door and go home. Don’t talk to anyone you see outside the bar.” You wanted to hold your ground and ask more questions but you knew Pam would physically remove you if she had to. So you opt to leave willingly. You walk through the dancers’ room and out of the exit.

Walking back to your car you rubbed your neck where the bite had been. Eric had never cared about leaving marks before. With how suddenly you were kicked out you couldn’t help but feel insulted. You didn’t think Eric was going to keep you around forever. You figured he would have said something instead of just throwing you out. As you got into your car you noticed a limo parked in front of Fangtasia’s entrance. You start your car and drive home. About halfway home you start to notice some weird things. All your senses seemed to be improving. By the time you got home, it was extremely noticeable. When you opened your front door you felt the doorknob loosen almost as if you broke it. You could smell the lingering scent of alcohol from the bar. The scent of the blood on your clothes was overwhelming like it was fresh. All the lights in your house seemed much brighter. Chalking it up to a migraine from the stress, you decided to just shower before laying down. Sleeping gave you some relief but you started to have sexual dreams about Eric. Normally this wouldn’t have been that bad but even in the dream you still felt lingering annoyance. You were startled awake by the sound of knocking. It sounded like it could be coming from your bedroom door. Since no one else lived with you no one should be in your house. You could feel your heart pounding as you grabbed the heaviest object in your room. Which happened to be a table lamp. You hold the lamp up high above your head and yanked your bedroom door open. When you see no one there you move slowly through your house until you reach the front door. You hear another knock so you look through the peephole. You see Eric on the other side. Rolling your eyes you open the door, “Sorry fast food is closed.”

Eric’s expression turns the slightest bit sheepish. He speaks, “Now now… don’t be like that.” Eric tries to step inside but it seems like he physically can't, causing him to hiss. You watch him, “Be like what? Pissed about being tossed out?” Eric looked different then you had ever seen him before. You’d never really seen Eric outside of the club other than the few time he had taken you out elsewhere. As a matter of fact, he had never been to your house before. You narrowed your eyes at him, “How did you find me?” Eric smirks, proud of himself “My blood. When you drank it a bond was formed between us. I can track you and sense your emotions.” That riled you up, “You did that so you could track me?” Eric’s attitude changes quickly. He looks you in the eyes as he speaks, “I did not give you my blood lightly.” Startled by the sudden serious tone you step back and your body stiffens. Just as quickly Eric’s demeanor changes back to a more relaxed one. Eric watches you as he adds, “I will gladly explain everything if you would kindly invite me in.” He motions to the doorway. You step back opening the door wider. For a moment you contemplate not inviting him in. Seeing Eric in a more vulnerable state than normal makes up your mind. You stand aside, “You officially are invited into my house.” Eric finally steps through your front door looking relieved. He curiously looks around at your home, “It’s every… humble.” You scoff, leaning against the wall in your living room. “I’ll get right to redecorating after you explain what happened.” Eric sits down in one of the chairs in your living room, making himself at home. Eric starts explaining, “The Vampire Authority is the ruling body over vampires. States have a king or queen but The Authority appoints sheriffs to rule over smaller areas in the state. I am one such sheriff.” You nod to show that you are listening. You decide to make a snarky comment, “So you are basically The Authorities bitch?” Eric chuckles, “I play the part when they are around.” You laugh to yourself while shaking your head, “What ‘part’ were you playing when you ditched me?” In a blur Eric is right in front of you, pushing your back into the wall. He looks into your eyes, “Your protector.” You do your best to show no expression while still holding eye contact with him. You know he can hear your heart rate and now since you drank his blood he knows how your feeling anyway. But you use all your willpower to stay as calm as possible with him this close. Eric chooses to continue, “The Authority doesn’t much care for humans or myself. So being my human put you in a dangerous position that I got you out of.” Eric studies you for a few more seconds. He smirks and adds, “Your welcome.” You found it hard to stay mad at him. You roll your eyes and Eric grabs your side. It sends a shiver through your body. Unable to hide your body’s reaction you try to mask it with sarcasm. “Yes, yes. Thank you so much for putting me in the situation you had to save me from.” Eric tightens his hold on you. You avoid looking into his eyes scoffing as you add, “Your human?” Eric grabs your chin with his free hand making you look at him. He speaks firmly even with a smirk on his face, “I normally wouldn’t tolerate such obstinance from a human.” You feel your annoyance dissipating and you give in, letting your body relax. You wrap your arms around his neck. You give him a teasing grin, “It’s almost like you care for me or something.” Eric plants his mouth onto yours, kissing you. You moan and kiss him back, letting him lift you up against the wall. You wrap your legs around him. Instinctually you grind against him. Eric stops kissing you causing you to whine. Eric hisses and gets ready to bite you. You unwrap your legs from around him and plant them on the ground again. Eric growls, grabbing your ass to lift you back up. You chuckle, “You’re a sloppy eater. Let’s go into the shower.” Eric’s lips brush again your neck as he speaks, “I like you messy.” Eric goes back in to bite you but to stop him you tug his hair. He growls in response. You sigh, “I know you like it messy and I don’t mind either. I don't want to stain my god damn carpet.” Eric huffs in annoyance rolling his eyes. The next thing you know he has you pushed against your shower wall. Eric glares at you, “Better?.” You give him a hurried nod before kissing him deeply.

While drying off after the shower you take a few vitamins. You hear the water in the shower turn off. Signaling that Eric was finished actually showering. You pull on your pajamas, looking at the time. As you dig in your closet for blankets, you talk to Eric. “You are free to stay for the day. I'm sure there are some clothes you can use to sleep in.” You pull an armful of blankets down. Turning to leave the closet you whisper “Not that you’ll actually stay.” Eric appears right in front of you, startling you. You cant see most of him do to the stack of cloth in your arms. Eric gives you a curious look, “And why wouldn’t I stay?” Pushing passed him you chuckle, “Vampires are very private about their sleeping area or so I am told. Considering I have never seen your sleeping chamber.” You go to your bedroom and start putting blankets up over the windows. Eric leans against your doorframe, “Is there a reason I shouldn’t trust you?” You double layer the blankets over the windows to be safe, making sure no light could get through. You cover the last window up as you talk, “I don’t believe so but it’s really up to what you think now isn’t it?” Eric chuckles, “No need to hide behind sarcasm. I can feel how badly you want me to stay. Plus you're going through all this trouble.” You laugh and shake your head, “If this is how you’re going to act then maybe I don’t.” You turn around to look at Eric, only to find him completely naked. Baffled you chuckle, “Are those your pajamas?” Eric grins, “Is that an insult to my style?” Eric slowly walks over to you. Eric speaks with mock offense in his voice, “How dare you!” You laugh harder this time, “Maybe nudity was fashionable for vikings back in the day. But nowadays we usually wear clothes to bed.” Eric gives you a predatory look, “I know for a fact you like seeing me naked.” You let him back up against your bed, “I suppose if your into that kind of thing.” Eric growls, “Clearly being nice to you has gone straight to your head.” In a split second, Eric is on top of you pinning you to the bed. You bite your lip to keep yourself smiling as you look up at him. Eric tilts your head to the side. He deeply inhales your scent. Eric slowly grinds against you as he continues, “Since you did prepare this place. I can stay as long as I need to put you back in your place.” You grind back against him, “Good luck with that.”

#true blood #eric northman #gender neutral #eric northman x reader #gender netural reader #reader insert #fanfiction #trueblood #fanfic #trueblood fanfic #trueblood fanfiction #true blood fanfic #true blood fanfiction #one-shot

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saffirestars · 4 years

Text

First Date

Fandom : Happy Tree Friends

Pairing : Lifty x Reader

Word count : 4701

A/N : Took a while, but I finally got this done. I haven’t written a one-shot in a long time and I’m hoping to improve my writing and editing by getting back into it. Constructive critiques are welcome as there’s always room to improve

~~~

I sat on the couch. The clock on the wall ticked away, daring me to check it once more. Grabbing the closest throw pillow and tugging at the corners, I resisted looking at the clock for as long as I could. Anxiety won in the end and I check the time. Five till seven. Five more minutes before he’ll be late. Well, maybe more like fifteen more minutes before he gets worryingly late.

My stomach ties itself in knots and I stand since sitting down is doing me no favors. Padding over to the window, I sweep the curtains aside but find no trace of anyone outside. There’s a slight pang in my chest as a thought popped into my head. What if he doesn’t show up? What if this is just a prank? I try pushing aside those thoughts before going over to the mirror. I brush a few stray hairs back into place and manage a weak smile to the cute reflection in the glass.

My thoughts wander to how my date will react when he sees me. Will his eyes light up and call me beautiful? Will he take my hand to kiss and say I look dashing? My face burns and I try to think about something else. Anything else. But all thoughts lead back to the thief I’m left waiting for.

The green raccoon, mischievous, troublemaking, and... very sweet. Lifty and his twin had crossed my path around town countless time, and despite not being well liked by the others, I always smiled and offer them a kind greeting. While Shifty never seemed to pay me much attention, Lifty always returned a smile.

And then, just the other day. I picked up an extra shift at the store when the twins came in. I planned on letting them be and focus on the job I had returns to put away. Then I got to the aisle the twins stood bickering in. At first I minded my business and put the returned items back on the shelf. As I made my way down the aisle, I smile to the pair once close to where they were. Lifty tensed up and turned away while Shifty crossed his arms and rolled his eyes.

I had asked if everything was alright, worried about why I had gotten that kind of response. Shifty glared from his brother to me and muttered something when Lifty jumped at him. I had taken a step back and Lifty let out a strained sigh to regain some composure. I noticed with him turned to more towards me that a vibrant red dusted his face under his dark green mask.

The hatless twin sucked in a breath before he asked if I wanted to go on a date with him. I remember my cheeks burning. He mustered up a smile, one drastically different from his trademark grin. A genuine smile that melted my heart. Once the ability to form words came back to me, I couldn’t agree faster. The thief’s face lit up at my answer.

A knock at the door cut me out of my thoughts. Heart pounding in my chest, I scamper over to the front door. I pause a moment once getting there, not wanting to give the idea that I had been sitting next to it waiting this whole time. I open the door and find a handsome raccoon with a devilish grin leaning against the door frame. His grin, however vanished as a blush intensified across his face. He turned his head and cleared his throat, seeming to want to keep one hand behind his back.

“Hey there, doll,” he greeted after regaining his nerve. I smile and return a greeting. Lifty offered me the small gift he had behind his back, my favorite type of candy. Before I could say anything he said, “I noticed you always get that kind, so I fought off Nutty to get you the last one the store had.”

“Thank you! That’s sweet of you.” I smile to him and put the candy in a pocket for later. “I... didn’t get you anything though. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” A soft smile pulled at his lips, and he offered me his hand. “I got some fun ideas in mind for tonight. So long as you don’t mind... breaking a couple rules.” I glance away as the knots in my gut twist again. Of course he’d want to stir up trouble. This is Lifty. This seems like it could get bad fast. What if we end up getting Splendid’s attention? Things would end up from bad to worse if the reckless hero showed up. But. At the same time. Breaking a few rules and just having fun sounded thrilling.

“Sounds fun.”

My face felt warm as I reached out and took his hand. Lifty’s smile stayed soft and kind as he gave my hand a small squeeze, which made my face burn with more intensity. Despite the burning feeling it caused on my face, I kept hold of Lifty’s hand as we walked down the sidewalk.

The night was peaceful. Cool air whispered passed, giving the night a refreshing chill. Most shops along the way were closed up, leaving only the streetlights to illuminate the path. High above, the sea of stars twinkled in the inky void. And next to me walked a raccoon with striking violet eyes with a wonderful and mischievous gleam to them.

“Liking the view, doll?” He asked, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I bite my lip and glance away, earning me a short laugh from him. “Hey, don’t be getting shy on me. I wanna see more of that beautiful face of yours.” Lifty squeezed my hand again. Flustered as I felt around him like this, it was also comforting. I peer back to him and the corners of my lips twitch up. “That’s more like it,” he cheered.

When we made a turn, Lifty pointed out the theater up ahead. He nudged me, asking if I wanted to see a movie. I couldn’t recall anything playing that interested me too much. I mention the one I thought sounded the most interesting, but when we got up to check the show times, the closest time was half an hour ago. And waiting an hour and a half for a movie I’m only a little interested in seeing didn’t sound very appealing.

I focused on the board, checking for something else good when Lifty pulled my arm some to get me to follow him. The action confused me for a moment, only to end up giggling after catching on to what he had planned. We slink off around the building to an employee door. Lifty got it open in no time and we slipped inside. We looked over the rooms to find the one showing the movie.

Many moviegoers filled the rows, but there were still seats. We snag two seats at the end of a row in the back and sit to watch the film. My excitement from the thrill of sneaking in only lasted so long. Soon the film’s dull mediocrity broke through and put a damper on the fun. I lean over to Lifty and in a hushed tone ask, “Is it just me or did the trailer for this seem way cooler?”

“The trailer is cooler,” he whispered back. Lifty leaned back in his chair and draped an arm over the back of mine. “The hell is that guy even doing? Isn’t he supposed to be smart or something?”

“I know, right? What kind of dumbass runs into a toxic environment without a hazmat suit or something?”

Lifty snickered before we both went back to watching the movie. Something shook the back of my chair. It was subtle, but there. Tiny vibrations went through the back as it crept down closer to me. I smirk and adjust myself in my seat to lean more towards Lifty. I catch his surprise in my peripheral, noting the contrasting red painted on his face. He gets a hold of himself and drapes his arm over my shoulders.

While the dumbass on the big screen makes all his problems worse for himself, I pull out my candy. I offer some to Lifty but he declines. I shrug and munch on it as the movie goes on. In between bites, I continue making snide comments on it to Lifty, trying to get more laughs out of him. One of my comments gets a guffaw out of him, causing us to get shushed by the other moviegoers.

Lifty chimes in with some comments of his own, and I have to fight back snickering. I can’t let him win that easy. But then he just makes an absurd remark at the expense of the film, and I can’t hold back my laugh anymore. We get shushed again and I stick my tongue out at the others. While trying to quiet my laughter, Lifty points out that someone with a flashlight came in.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. We dashed out of the theater, zigzagging our way to the lobby. On our way passed the concession counter, I snag the bucket of popcorn. The two of us made it outside soon after, with some popcorn flying out of the bucket while running. I saw that some popcorn had gotten caught in Lifty’s fur and start snickering at the sight. When he looked at me, he joined in snickering, and I knew I must have had popcorn stuck all over too. It soon became a bout of full-blown laughter between us as we walk down the street.

I snack on what’s left in the bucket, and Lifty takes a few handfuls for himself. My gaze wanders up, and the moon rose higher in the sky. After several more bites of popcorn, the bucket is getting down to the smaller broken pieces. A chilly gust breezes by getting a shiver out of me as it went. I step a little closer to Lifty and he pulls me even closer when he rests his arm over my shoulders.

A few minutes later Lifty looked off to somewhere and I try to find out what caught his attention. The park, still and dark, was a short ways away. While the expansive field was open, sectioned off behind a chain-link fence sat the playground, only half built. I shiver, recalling the reason for the playground to be under repairs this time. Why Lumpy thought it was a good idea to drive up the slide as if it were a ramp is far beyond me. All I know is that having a car fall from the sky and land on your back hurts like hell.

Lifty’s grin stretched across his face and he nudged me in the park’s direction. “You wanna sneak in there?” I press my lips into a tight line as I look from the emerald raccoon to the fenced off playground. He smiled brighter. “Come on, no one’ll be around. We’ll have the place to ourselves!”

I frown some before heaving out a sigh, “Okay. But if one of us dies, I’m blaming you. And you have to promise we’ll continue this date sometime tomorrow.”

“I’ll make that deal with ya, doll,” He chuckled and veered towards the park, “How ’bout around noon? We can get lunch then if something bad happens tonight.”

“That sounds good to me” I said with a bright smile.

Back-up plan in place, I walk with him to the park. Now with more enthusiasm in my step. He was right about no one being around, making it super easy to slip through a gap in the fence. We tour the construction site, looking at all the playground equipment half installed. Lifty pointed to the one thing assembled and in place. The swing set.

He pulls me over to it and I giggle at his adorable enthusiasm. He has me sit on a swing and starts pushing me. I let out a laugh as I get higher and higher, and as Lifty puts as much strength into it I end up soaring. Thankfully, Lifty had the sense to dodge out of the way as I swung backwards.

He got on the swing next to mine and tried to catch up to my speed as quick as possible. Soon we were neck and neck, and I tried my damnedest to out-swing him. To swing higher and faster than he could. I catch his eye and I broke. A stupid cheerful grin spread on my face and I couldn’t hold back my giddy laughing. I felt like a kid again.

“Hey Lifty, bet I can jump off and land farther than you,” He scoffs at my boast, trying to hide the hint of amusement written on his face. I puff up my chest and am determined to make good on my brag. After a few more swings, I reach my top speed. Then I jump out. I sail through the air, free as a bird for a moment before landing on the grassy earth.

Lifty jumped a moment later and landed about the same distance from the swings as I did. The gap between us made it hard to tell who edged out ahead, so we meet in the middle to figure it out. I take care to make sure my steps are in a proper line and when I got close enough to Lifty; I frown. He was a half foot farther away from the swings than me. I pout and cross my arms. He must have taken subtle side steps as we closed the gap.

He grinned that stupid cute grin of his and laughed, saying I can get a consolation prize. Before I can ask what he means by that, Lifty takes my hands and pulls me close. My face was scorching hot, and only burned brighter as he slid his hands to the small of my back. I can’t bring myself to look the charming raccoon in the face and opt to glance down passed his shoulder. As flustered as I was, I don’t break away. My hands rested on his chest, plush with soft dense fur.

He held me for eternity and yet not long enough. He leaned back some, as one of his paws slipped away from my back to nudge my chin back to face him. A coy smirk graced the raccoon’s face and I bite my lip. He leans in and whispers that he has a fun idea in mind that we could do. Prompting him for further details only gets me the answer that he’ll just show me.

Slipping away from me, Lifty only held one of my hands as he lead us back to where we snuck into the park. From there we get back to the sidewalk and stroll random streets. Lifty looks over one street, promptly followed up by another. I ask what he’s searching for, but he says it’s a surprise.

We finally get to a street that causes his eyes to light up, and he pulls me down it, eager as a kid in a candy shop. I try to discern what this street had that the others didn’t when I notice the parked car in the road. I blink at the lone car before I bite back the laughter bubbling up.

“Seriously?” I chortle, “That’s your fun idea for a date activity?”

“Stealing cars is fun!” the thief said, laughing back as we got the other driver’s door of the vehicle. “Time me! I wanna see if I can beat Shifty’s time and he counts too fast on purpose.”

I shake my head and glance away, laughing more. How can he go from charming and smooth to dumbass dork that fast? I agree with a grin just as stupid and happy as his. He pulls out a crowbar and gives the signal to start counting. I count the seconds out loud for him as I watch Lifty smash in the driver window. He pulls open the door, brushing aside the shards of tempered glass in the seat, and starts fiddling with something near the steering wheel. Soon after, he starts the car.

“How long was that?”

“Two minutes, thirty-nine seconds.”

“I knew it! I knew I could do it in under three minutes!” he cheered from the car. All I can do is shake my head at this excited raccoon. the car locks click, unlocking the doors. “Come on, doll, I wanna take this for a spin.”

I run around to the passenger side and hop in. My seat belt isn’t even on before Lifty takes off down the road. I squeal out and snatch the little handle above the window for a bit of extra stability. He drove like a maniac, swerving in between cars, making sharp turns, zooming passed red lights. I’m almost certain he caused someone we blew by to have crashed.

After getting into the sway of the car, the thrill of it all makes it fell almost like a roller coaster. Lifty accelerates as we go up one of the steeper hills in the town, and I swear we were airborne for a second. Weightlessness followed as we sped down the other side of the hill. And just as we were looping back for another jump, the stinking car runs out of gas.

We ditch the car on the side of the road, worse for wear. Once back on the sidewalk strolling down I wrap my arms around one of my date’s and lean into him. We walk on, enjoying the night with the sound of various car alarms going off in the distance. Lifty suggests that we just walk around for a bit.

“That sounds nice,” I giggled, a tad surprised he suggested something rather mundane to do.

Things grew quiet between us as we walked along. A beautiful, peaceful quiet so oddly in juxtaposition to the chaotic joyride. It was a welcome change of pace, even if it didn’t last long. Lifty ended up breaking the silence. He huffed a small laugh and with his free hand scratched the back of his neck.

“Hey, I just wanna say, this has been a blast and I like you.” He tensed up after letting that slip out. He quick sputtered, “I- I like hanging out with you. I mean. Not- not that. I don’t like you too. I just-”

“I like you too.”

My arms wrap tighter around his and I lean into him. I glance up and see eyes of amethyst shine bright. He leans into me in response and I giggle. He laughed a bit himself and said, “Guess I got to thank Shifty later, finally got me to ask you out.”

“How long have you been wanting to ask me out?”

“Couple of weeks?” he said with a red face, “I was driving Shifty up the wall when I always chickened out of asking. You’re always so kind to everyone I kept believing you’d turn me down.”

“Well, I proved you wrong,” I say, snuggling his arm. I then glance up at him. He may be a cunning thief, but that’s only one aspect of him. An unflappable dork who looked absolutely adorable. Eyes full of life, a light-hearted mood, and a face vibrant with blush. And his mirthful smile. One that was bright and kind. A genuine, joyous smile.

There was a brief quiet between us once more. We walked on. At first I thought it was an aimless meandering. Our turns, however, gave the impression Lifty had a destination in mind. Asking where we were heading got me no straightforward answer.

“I got one last thing planned for us, but you have to agree to it first before I give ya the details.”

I puff out my cheeks and lightly shove his shoulder. “That’s not how deals work!”

“That’s how this one works,” he chirped. I shake my head, smiling before agreeing to whatever he has planned. Lifty’s grin twisted into one of scheming and he wiggled out of my arms. He took hold of my hand before he started to practically drag me along. “Let’s commit some crime!”

He only stops when we are in front of the town’s museum. I look him over after we stop, signature grin plastered on his face. I give him a blank stare. At least I try to at first, but I can’t fight down the smile spreading on my face.

“The museum?” I ask, holding back as much of a laugh as I could manage.

“Well, yeah,” Lifty shrugged, “What? You thought we’d rob the bank? Shifty said museum would be nicer for a date. But we could break into the bank.”

“No, this is fine,” I say, smiling and waving away that idea, “The museum is fine.”

He nods and guides me up to the front door. I asked how we’re getting in only for Lifty to pull out the crowbar again. He jams it in between the doors and pries them open in no time. Once pried open, he bows some and gestures for me to go in first.

I step in and not a moment later Lifty is beck next to me. He has two burlap bags in paw and hands me one while saying, “Take anything that catches your eye, doll.”

I blush and laugh it off, murmuring that I can’t fit him in the bag. Lifty’s face turns from green to scarlet. He gives a crooked smile and looks away, scratching the back of his head. “You don’t have to go saying stuff like that.”

I smile brighter and lean closer to him. Lifty’s brows knit with confusion, but he didn’t shy away. A second later, my lips peck his warm cheek. Before he could do anything else I straighten back up and bolt away, shouting that I’ll get more loot than he can.

It didn’t take Lifty long to recover. He blew past me before I could even make it to the main gallery hall. He shouted over his shoulder, “I’ve been doing this for years, doll! No chance you’re going to beat a pro like me! Shifty can’t even come close to me!”

Determined to give a raccoon a run for his money, I pick up the pace. I pull down painting after painting, stuffing them into the bag, admiring the piece for only a brief second before moving on to the next one.

I made my way along the gallery, starting on the wall opposite Lifty. He had a similar strategy to me as we left the walls bare and ended up in the middle in front of the last painting. Both bags filled to burst with priceless pieces of art, and here I am standing in front of the most handsome thing in the room.

I start to speak up when a cough cut me off. My eyes grew wide at the sound. The cough surprised Lifty just as much as it did me. We both turned towards where it came from, and my blood chilled. A blue squirrel floating a short distance away glared at us with his arms crossed. I shrink back, taking a side step closer to Lifty. My gaze darts from the superpowered rodent to the green procyonid, praying he had some idea of what to do.

My date seemed rather calm, which helped me from freaking out. Lifty took a step, getting closer to me while also blocking Splendid from me. “Long time no see, Splendid,” Lifty said. His tone made it sound as if nothing was wrong, as if this was a normal occurrence. Then again, this probably is a normal occurrence for them.

“Not long enough,” Splendid bit back, “It’s bad enough dealing with you and Lifty.” “I am Lifty ya jerk!“ “Which ever one you are, shame on you for dragging an innocent civilian into your criminal lifestyle.”

My paws balled into fists at the rodent’s remark. Daring to step closer, I shout back to the reckless hero, “Hey buddy! Lifty didn’t drag me into anything. He asked me out, and I accepted. Speaking of! This is our cute date heist, and I don’t appreciate you barging in like this.”

Both Splendid and Lifty looked utterly baffled by my words. And while Splendid’s shock lingered, Lifty soon grinned his mischievous grin. He draped an arm over my shoulder and gently pulled me closer to him. “Yeah, what my doll here said. What’s with you barging in on our date?”

“Date!?” Splendid sputtered out, “This is a criminal act and you two are treating it like some romantic outing?” The hero rubbed his temples for a second before grumbling, “Fine, you both can answer for your crimes.”

Lifty let go of his burlap bag to better dig through it. I lean forward some to see what he’s getting when Lifty pulls out a red box adorn with gold. My brows knit as I look at the box, wondering why he took that out. Splendid on the other hand flinched when he saw the box, which only confused me further.

Lifty flicked his wrist, and the lid swung back, revealing an iridescent green gem in the shape of an acorn. It glowed with an eerie light, looking radioactive, and yet I felt no strange or painful effects. Splendid however recoiled, dropping to the ground and clutching his stomach. Lifty snickered while Splendid looked like he was on the verge of getting sick.

“You think me and Shifty wouldn’t dig up more of these little gems after seeing they do to you?” The raccoon laughed. The longer Lifty held out the box, the sicker and sicker Splendid looked. I wondered if that’s all it did to the super squirrel, and then he ended up barfing.

I can’t help but gag and avert my eyes. Meanwhile, Lifty set the box back in the bag, making sure the gem was still out in the open. He picked up his spoils and walked me out of the museum, giving the sick hero a wide berth.

The moon was high in the sky once we stepped out, and the town was rather calm. For Happy Treeville, anyway. Car alarms screamed out and I think I can make out some smoke billowing up in the distance. Regardless, it was getting late.

Lifty walked me back to my place, his paw holding mine, taking in the beautiful night. The walk was peaceful. No words exchanged between us, but they didn’t have to be. It was a comfortable silence.

It wasn’t until we approach my house that I feel a pang of sorrow. This is where we part ways. Once at my front door we pause. I reluctantly let my hand slip from his and half turn to the door. I hum in thought and ask, “You want to come in for a drink before you leave?”

“That’s sweet of you, but I better get going.” He answers while scratching the back of his head. I frown a bit until he adds, “Besides, we still got that lunch date tomorrow, right?”

Any hint of sadness I had wiped clean as a bright smile spread on my face. “Y-yeah! We do. Then... you’ll come by around noon?”

“Yep!” he said with a grin, “wouldn’t miss it for the world. Unless. You know. I end up dead early tomorrow.”

“We can just get a rain check if that happens,” I giggle. Turning, I open my front door but pause. I spin around and brush my lips on the cheek, noting his fur felt silky. I lingered only a moment before bidding him a goodnight.

Unfortunately, we had to end up getting that rain check for our lunch date. The cafe ended up catching fire, and we were unlucky enough to get stuck in it. Oh well. Some other time.

#happy tree friends #Lifty htf #x reader #htf lifty x reader

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novastarlyght · 5 years

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That Time I Named an Invader Zim Background Character and Everyone Thought it was Canon: The Story of Ixane

Like a lot of others it seems, the premiere of Enter the Florpus has recently made me think back to my first stay in the Invader Zim fandom many years ago. For me it was between 2006 and 2007, and I was 14-15 at the time. IZ was and still is a very special cartoon to me, not only for how it influenced me creatively but also the fact being a part of its fandom was my first really positive experience in a fan community. And I wanna talk about that experience because it... lead to something very interesting. Something that only could’ve happened in the now bygone days of the early internet where reliable sources were harder to find and misinformation was much more common, but somehow, has lasted until today.

This is how Ixane, a silent extra that appears only in the episode “Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars,” got her name.

So first off, you might be wondering “Who the heck is Ixane?” As I mentioned, she only appears as a background character in the 21st episode of the original series, titled “Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars” which I’ll abbreviate for the rest of this post as just Backseat Drivers. She’s a member of The Resisty, a resistance group against the Irken Empire who also only appear in that episode, although they were planned to become more significant recurring characters later down the line before the show was cancelled.

In 2006 I LOVED the Resisty. They were my favorite group of characters in the entire show, probably because I was fascinated by all their potential which sadly didn’t get the chance to be explored before IZ was canceled. What planets did each of them come from? What are each of their individual species like? How did they form into a single resistance group? What were their names, their personalities? Their hopes, dreams and fears?! THEIR FAVORITE DRINKS?!?! I attempted to provide my own answers to some of these not-so-burning-to-anyone-but-myself (or so I thought at the time...) questions by writing a fanfic called “Resisting Authority,” which I published on Fanfiction.net and later DeviantArt. It’s since been taken down on FFN while the DA version is currently in private storage on my old account, so here’s a screenshot just to prove it existed:

(click here for larger image)

Despite being more adult in tone than the show it was based on and rather melodramatic (then again, I was 14, and probably so was everyone else reading it), “Resisting Authority” became really, REALLY popular... at least for a fic that didn’t feature any of the show’s main characters, given it was entirely about the Resisty and told mostly from the perspective of its leader, Captain Lard Nar. Regardless it got a large amount of positive feedback and significant fan art on DeviantArt, most of which is no longer online although there’s still a little bit hanging around - mainly featuring Lyn, an Irken OC from the story who chooses to rebel against the empire and falls in love with Lard Nar, leading to a star crossed lovers conflict.

Because the purpose of the fic was to further explore the Resisty along with the idea of “What if an Irken betrayed their own?” several characters that appeared onscreen for only a couple of seconds in Backseat Drivers were fleshed out considerably in “Resisting Authority,” where they were given names, species names, home planet names, backstories, motivations and personalities. And of these the one who received by far the most development was a feminine, blue-eyed alien in a hooded purple cloak who I decided to name “Ixane.”

Ixane would become one of the most important characters in “Resisting Authority” right behind Lard Nar and Lyn. She is a Xanan from the planet Xana, a race of spiritual mystics. She is initially distrustful of Lyn, despite her actions and claims to be as much of a rebel as the rest of them, due to her hatred for the Irken Empire and how they destroyed her home. She believes Irkens are more like machines than living creatures, their bodies merely being empty shells to carry their PAKs around, making them incapable of genuine emotion. When she discovers Lyn and Lard Nar have been in a secret romantic relationship, she becomes even more hateful towards Lyn both due to jealousy, since she’d been harboring feelings for Lard Nar herself, and her genuine belief that Lyn’s feelings aren’t real, something that will only hurt Lard Nar in the end.

However throughout the course of the story her views are challenged and eventually Lyn manages to prove her wrong by displaying what she can’t deny is anything but legitimate love for Lard Nar and compassion for her allies in the Resisty. Unfortunately Lyn is fatally injured during a battle with a number of Irken soldiers sent to hunt down the rebellion. Now wanting nothing more than happiness for the person she loves, Ixane uses her mystical powers to save Lyn’s life while sacrificing her own in the process.

This character development (both in the meta sense and in the context of the fic itself) plus her selfless heroic sacrifice is what I think made Ixane one of the fic’s breakout characters and caused her to stick in the minds of those who read “Resisting Authority.” They were no longer thinking of her as just some extra, but as this fully developed character complete with an arc that I’d made her into - as the character of Ixane. But it didn’t occur to me just how big of an impact this may have truly had until about 9 years later.

In 2015, the official Invader Zim comic series by Oni Press began publication and I found myself extremely hyped about IZ again for the first time in almost a decade. It was during this time I came across a particular IZ wiki article and section of its TV Tropes page...

(Sources are here and here)

And I thought to myself “Wait... I thought I named her Ixane...?”

Because at this point I seriously couldn’t remember. I hadn’t thought about “Resisting Authority” in years, and with TV Tropes in particular noting that Ixane’s name was given “in the [episode] script” I wondered if I didn’t actually come up with the name. Maybe it was in the script for Backseat Drivers after all so I used it in the fic. Being unable to find said script (the original script as made by the episode’s writers, not a transcript) I couldn’t confirm it, so I mainly shrugged it off and thought more than likely I just had a bad memory. It wouldn’t be on a (still regularly maintained) wiki if it didn’t at least have a high possibility of being canon, right?

Cut to last night, August 2019. Me and all my other friends and fellow nerds who also grew up loving IZ are still buzzing over Enter the Florpus and our childhood/teenage fan content comes up in conversation. I dig up “Resisting Authority” from my old DA storage for perhaps a good laugh and a bit of nostalgia when more of when I first wrote it starts to come back to me. “I know the wikis all say her name was in the script, but I swear I came up with the name Ixane myself,” I thought, wondering if there was any way I could prove it.

Turns out I could. All the proof I needed was in a drawing of the character I posted to DA in January of 2007, which like the fic was still in storage:

(click here for larger image)

“Um...I bet a lot of people who read Resisting Authority got the impression she was an OC. She technically isn't. She is a Resisty character we saw VERY BRIEFLY once or twice in Backseat Drivers and I just elaborated on her for the story. The cloaked girl, yasee. Just look here: [link] “

That link no longer works normally, however putting it into Wayback Machine provides a snapshot taken in September of 2006, which would be around the time “Resisting Authority” was first published on FFN. Scrolling down on that page gives us...

(click here for larger image)

Additionally, opening the image itself reveals the filename “resistycloak.jpg” rather than something like “ixane.jpg” or “resistyixane.jpg”

For those who weren’t in the fandom back then, The Scary Monkey Show was a very well known IZ fansite and its Encyclopedias section was basically a resource for the show’s lore, one considered highly reliable, before things like fan wikis became commonplace. I actually used this site as a reference for the different types of Irken ships and other planets in the IZ universe brought up in the fanfic and so did many other fic writers at the time. If any site on the internet would know a minor or even background IZ character’s name, if it really was in the official episode script, it’d be The Scary Monkey Show. Yet her name is listed as unknown.

So why am I telling you this?

Because as wild as this whole situation is, I’m not a person who likes misinformation. I feel like IZ fans, both young and old, should know Ixane is not actually this character’s canon name as given to her by the writers of the show. That being said...

I see no reason to stop calling her Ixane. That’s just her name now.

Heck, it’d probably be difficult to go back to thinking of her as having no name given how long the name has been used on all these wiki pages and whatnot. And I’m completely fine with receiving absolutely zero credit for actually being the one who came up with the name in the first place, because here’s the thing...

I may have made the name, but it was the fandom that spread it. The IZ community, primarily in my absence too, were the ones who codified, legitimized it. Who added it to those wikis and accepted it as canon all these years. Who believed in it enough to assume it came from the official episode script, from the IZ crew themselves!

Ixane isn’t my name for her. It’s our name for her, as the fans who made Invader Zim the cult classic it is today.

And I want that to be something we all can have and be proud of ❤︎

#texts from last nova #invader zim #backseat drivers from beyond the stars #enter the florpus #the resisty #ixane #BIG ASS POST but hopefully somebody out there finds it interesting : 'D

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leggomylino · 4 years

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Dark Rising☽✮☾Act One

☽✮☾ Dark Rising Masterlist ☽✮☾

Genre: Horror/Thriller, Drama, Romance, Comedy

Pairing: NCT’s Johnny Suh x fem!reader (x ???)

Word count: 5.9k

Warning(s): mentions of blood, yandere-esqe themes, cuts/injuries, soul stealing and kidnapping. Possibly more in the future depending on what the original authors decide. They write for ot9 and so do I.

A/N: Main Masterlist in BIO! | This is a spinoff series to the SKZ fanfiction Twisted Karnival, by @gaiyofanfiction. It can be read alone, but you are encouraged to read the original story first. At the authors’ request, I will take this down if asked to do so. I do not own Twisted Karnival or Stray Kids, or Johnny Suh, or any characters used in this. All credit goes where credit is due. The events that happen in this story are not canon in the original story, this is simply a work of fandom and appreciation, and thus will tie into canon events as closely as possible in respect to the original works. All that being said… Thank you. <3

IMPORTANT -> (** This story picks up after the events of Twisted Karnival, Chapter 6. While this can be read as a stand-alone fic, better understanding can be found upon first reading through T.K. Ch. 6. Please support the series! ♫)

~ ☽✮☾ ~

A cross necklace, and a whistle. That’s all you had to defend yourself.

The sky was dark outside the main tent, the walkways bare and lifeless. A cold breeze swept up from the South, adding to the chills that threatened to tear you down where you stood like a hazardously put-together Jenga tower. One wrong tug, one sudden misstep, and you would be a heap at their disposal...they being the nine demonic beings encircling an unfortunate young girl who couldn’t be far from your age.

You were watching now from the back of the tent, through a small flap that had been open to allow air to circulate after the events that had taken place. It wasn’t nearly large enough for a person to fit through, about the size of one’s head, with a slit of velvet and silk curtain separating the back passage from the main stage. You’d lucked out, really, that one of the younger demons had come tromping by complaining about the humidity and had opened it for your eyes to witness.

Though in some ways, you really wish you hadn’t. You felt like you were going to be sick, seeing this poor girl bruised and crying, blood seeping down her arms and through the rips in her jeans.

“Hey, come on. It’s going to be okay. This is why you’re here.”

A hand fell lightly on your shoulder from the man beside you. You looked to him with clouded eyes and doubt in your heart, before turning back to the scene unraveling before you, whilst your fingers toyed with the chain and pendant around your neck.

You weren’t sure where it had come from or why you were here. But apparently that’s what this man, Johnny, was for.

Let’s back up a bit. Okay, picture this: You were just a regular girl minding your business, walking out from your part-time job to go straight home like the good student you liked to think you were, the only thing on your mind the leftover BLT waiting for you in the fridge, when you’d come across a crowd buying (or rather, receiving free) tickets from two dangerously handsome (and somewhat scary looking) strangers. Life had been peachy before all of this; sure, a little stressful balancing a life that consisted of school, a job, and a small almost non-existent social life, but hey, it wasn’t bad.

That’s when he’d first showed up.

“Suspicious, isn’t it?” He’d asked, staring into the crowd with his hands in his deep dark trench-coat pockets. He’d completely snuck up on you, appearing out of nowhere to your right and effectively scaring the daylights out of you. And you’ll admit, you let out a noise that wasn’t exactly...ladylike. Something between a “bwarf!” and a screech. It’d managed to turn a few heads nearby, but Johnny, who you hadn’t known was his name just yet, only pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he said, training his eyes back on the growing crowd. His face went from lighthearted-borderline amusement to vacant and dim.

“Do you see all these people here?”

You stared at him a moment before following his gaze, a frown encasing your lips. Who did this guy think he was, first scaring the daylights out of you and now trying to strike up a conversation and keep you from that delicious leftover BLT calling your name? “Uh...yeah…” Slowly, you turned your head back up to face him, brow arched. “...I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Nah. But I can fix that.” He held out his hand without taking his eyes off the wavering crowds of innocent bystanders, a faint smile taking over for the hair of a second as he introduced himself. “Call me Johnny. It’s a pleasure.”

“......” You stared at his outstretched hand for an awkward moment too long before hesitantly grabbing it, shaking it once, twice, before becoming...pleasantly aware of how incredibly soft and warm his skin was, and the comforting pulse that radiated through your whole body. It soothed each ache and pain from the day’s toil like an iron over a smooth silk sheet. Every wrinkle and crease had vanished.

Woah...it’s like...I feel like a totally new person...where did all this energy come from?

...Observing him in awe, you’d almost forgotten to give him your name in return, gaping up at him as you were like a fish out of water. “...U-Uh...I’m--”

“Y/n,” he stated, matter-of-fact. Your eyes went wide.

What the heck? “...How did you know…?”

“Shhh,” he kneeled down to be at eye-level, for he was an incredibly tall individual. A typical dark, mysterious, handsome stranger all the girls in high school dream of encountering, except he couldn’t possibly be a bad or dangerous guy...in fact, you couldn’t help but want to cling to him. It was crazy, but just being within eyesight was enough to make you feel safe. Which was odd...and crazy. Definitely crazy. It didn’t make any rational sense whatsoever. Which is why you found your body taking the smallest of nudges and half-steps closer to his side, to this man you knew nothing about save for his name and the fact that he made you feel nearly invincible by some nameless sorcery.

When he leaned down, his cheek was practically against yours. Despite feeling safe, you began to sweat.

Johnny pointed far out into the crowd, where the two gothic-looking boys in strange but attractive attire were shouting and waving flyers around, passing out tickets in between, some yellow, others black. Each of them looked charming and genuine beyond belief. Heck, you wanted to buy a ticket from them too; and maybe a lunch date.

You held up a hand to point as well, trying to remain as discreet as possible. “Those guys?”

Johnny nodded, lowering your arm slowly and moving to stand behind you. You would have been weirded out and panicking had you not felt so unusually calm and comforted by his presence. Seriously, something is up with this guy. I don’t know anything about him and yet...ugh, it’s like I’ve known him my whole life. Talk about cringe...

He placed his hands over your eyes, and you closed them on instinct. You didn’t have time to question, and again, you found that you couldn’t, anyway. Somehow, something deep inside told you to trust him. “Now,” he continued, “when I count to three and let go, you’re going to see something that isn’t so pretty. But don’t be alarmed, they can’t hurt you. I promise that nothing you see can hurt you. This is really important, so I’m going to repeat it again, because the last human I said these words to nearly had a heart attack because they didn’t listen: I promise, nothing you see can physically hurt you. Understand?”

You began to squirm, growing more impatient by the second, what with your stomach growling and all. “Yeah, yeah, I got it already! I’m waiting!” ...That BLT wasn’t gonna eat itself, y’know? But really, at the same time, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted him to let go.

But then he reached a final count. And he did let go, slowly as not to startle you and give you time to adjust.

What you saw was a thing of nightmares.

The sky had grown dark, blood red shrieking at you from behind pitch black clouds. A scream caught in your throat; you were too speechless to move, or speak, or do anything but stare in absolute horror.

The people around you had all become vessels. They were still human, but...different. Rather than solid beings, they’d become hollow and see-through, as if they were made of mist or steam. Everyone had a light at their core, which instinct told you was…

...Their spirit. It’s pulsing with energy and life.

Some were dull and barely hanging onto life. Others were bright and vibrant, bursting with color and joy. Many were somewhere in between, balanced and average, each telling a new story, a different tale; a little girl worried about starting kindergarten, a man who was down on his luck and endlessly searching for a new job. A woman who’d just gotten engaged, a teenager wondering if he should risk punishment bringing the stray cat in his bag home. Everyone had a different story, varying concerns, sadness and joys.

But there was one in particular that was a conundrum. It wasn’t necessarily good, or bad, or anything like the others: what it was was pure and vivid beyond belief. It was almost blinding, but...there was a film around it, choking out the light. A ball of white light encased in a mist of thick, gray fog. The demons were eyeing it like a rare delicacy they’d been deprived of for years…

And it was emanating from a young girl, who couldn’t be any younger than you.

And then you’d gasped, because that’s when you realized what they were. Demons. Monsters. Vile creatures targeting humankind. There were two of them-- the well-dressed boys from before. But they’d changed now, those innocent young men long gone, left behind to shadows and ancient rust. Their true appearance...or whatever this was...was too terrible to describe. It was worse than any horror movie you’d been forced into seeing.

The thing that made it worse was that it wasn’t a horror movie. This was real.

The scream in your throat had long dissipated into empty gapping and heavy realization, and it was at this point Johnny must have decided he wasn’t very good at first impressions other than the whole making-you-feel-safe-with-a-simple-handshake-and-being-within-eyesight, because the next thing you knew he’d spun you around to face him, a sympathetic smile on his face.

“Sorry you had to see that so soon. But we’re running out of time and I know how brave you really are. I thought it’d be easier if we tackled the first milestone a little early, crash course style.”

What…?

But then he’d swiveled you back around, and everything was back to normal. The crowds, the noise, the gothic-themed advertisements. The blood-painted sky, the dark clouds, the vessels and auras and demonic dark blobs that you couldn’t get past describing-- they’d all gone, and two cheerfully sly salesmen remained, making it rain tickets and creatively crafted flyers left and right.

“What...What was that?!” You demanded, anxiety blooming late in your chest. Screw feeling safe, that was still terrifying as heck! Surely you’d fallen asleep at work and were just overtired...right? Right…?

Maybe this was all just a dream. You’d fallen asleep at your desk again, and any minute now your coworker Chenle would be batting you with a rolled-up newspaper or gently shaking you awake if he knew you’d really had a hard day, or-- er-- and--

“Th-The lights and the shadowy blobs and- and all the noise just disappeared, it was so quiet, and those two--” You shivered, taking a step back and bumping into Johnny, who held you firm. “Those two...they’re...they were…”

You were beginning to hyperventilate. The man behind you sighed. “I know.” He gave your shoulders a slight squeeze, and you felt that soothing impression run over you once more, helping your breaths to relax, your pulse slowing to a steady, normal thump. “It’s exactly as you saw it. Each sphere of light is someone’s spirit encased in their aura.”

“Their...aura?” The frick was he talking about?!

“Yeah. Like I said, we’re pressed for time here, so try to keep up. A lot of people think they’re one in the same, but they’re not. Your aura is tied into your emotions, both on the surface and buried in your subconscious. It’s the bridge that connects the two. They can be manipulated at will by many factors…” His eyes landed heavily on the two demonic creatures disguised as charming young stagehands now maneuvering their way through the crowd to pass out tickets faster and with more demand than voluntary. “...But it is seperate from the spirit. Your spirit is your lifesource. It’s who you are and what defines you. Auras can easily change, but the spirit is something that takes a lot more elbow grease and determination to turn.”

“......” You hadn’t been sure what to do. What to say. You were practically speechless.

So instead you tilted your head back and asked the only thing on your mind.

“Johnny…who are you?”

He’d only looked down on you with another guarded smile. “You’re about to find out. First, I have a job for you.”

“What? Job?” You frowned. “I’m sorry but, hold on a sec.” You pushed yourself away, but not too far, wanting just the right amount of distance from Tuxedo Mask and the Dark Kingdom not far off. “Listen, I don’t even know you, you just appeared out of nowhere and started showing me all this weird and scary stuff, and preaching to me about heavy topics, and now you want me to perform some...job?” ...You shuddered at the way it’d come out, how it all sounded. Perish the thought.

Johnny, however, remained as calm and nearly stoic as he had been this entire time, puffing his straying locks away from his face and shoving slender fingers into his coat pockets like some cool P.I. Detective...or quite possibly, Tuxedo Mask. Which is how you were slowly beginning to see him. “Perform...ironic.” His eyes flicked over to the girl with the white as snow soul, then back over to the young men (who you were just about dang near positive weren’t really men at this point), making their rounds through the continuously enlarging masses.

The square was steadily growing more and more crowded, forcing you to close the small amount of distance you’d managed to create between you and Johnny. Suddenly one of them, who had secretly been eyeing Snow White this whole time, took off and seemingly disappeared a moment before popping back up right in front of her, engaging her and her friend in conversation.

Meanwhile, Johnny gestured almost bluntly toward the other one, a boy with cherry red hair and fox-like features. “I want you to get yourself a ticket to the carnival.”

“You want...wha?”

It took you a minute to register those words, standing there staring off into space. But before you knew it, a spontaneous gust of gentle wind was literally pushing you into the crowd you’d previously been trying to get around and away from, thus ending the fleeting hope of sitting at home with that delicious, delectable, slowly aging BLT.

“Don’t worry, I’m with you,” the wind whispered...yeah, whispered. It spoke to you, in Johnny’s voice. You weren’t sure if that was meant to comfort you or just...creep you out that much more…not to mention you were apparently the only one that heard it.

...But you guessed you felt a little better knowing Johnny was secretly beside you-- if that really was him-- ...Wait, Johnny…?

The gust of wind that’d stolen Johnny’s voice dropped you off in a small opening a few feet away from a dark red-haired boy with a sly grin and some of the most charming dimples you’d ever seen on such an equally attractive boy, but...no, no. You weren’t going to get swept up in that. Not when you knew the truth. Something was very wrong with this picture, other than the fact this boy was actually a demon of some sort, and you suddenly (by some influence not entirely of your own) had a need to get to the bottom of it.

In the name of the Moon™, I’m onto you.

Your mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened, slightly, taking a step forward.

A new wave of ecstatic carnival-enthusiasts cut you off, swarming the young boy and begging him for tickets, lowkey sending you flying. Ouch. You crossed your arms, a huff of impatience leaving your chest--

And then it was like you blinked, and they were gone, and suddenly the boy was before you. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat. What the…?

But for a wavering moment, just one short second, you could have sworn that something passed over him. Something that had been foreign to him for many years, and had just then, for the slightest of moments, climbed back up to the surface and gotten its first breath of air in what had to be a very long time.

It was fear. Uncertainty. Caution. Insecurity...and it rippled over him like a small pebble dropped into a forgotten spring.

But it had faded and crawled back into its cradle just as quickly as it had come. “...Hello there~” the boy greeted, and the moment he spoke you felt a xylophone being played against your spine. His chords were sweet as honey, playing a siren’s tune. It made the hairs on your neck stand firm. “Are you curious about the carnival as well?”

“......” You’d time-lapsed backwards into gaping-fish mode. All your instincts were screaming at you to run away, scram, scat, get out of there and as far away from this boy, from his accomplice, from everything that had to do with the word carnival as possible, but instead, this happened:

“Um, yeah. Just one, please.”

~ ☽✮☾ ~

...And that’s how you’d ended up here, in a twisted back walkway of the infamous and appropriately titled Twisted Karnival, with what you’d soon found out to be your temporarily self-appointed guardian angel, Johnny, at your side. Because get this: he really was an angel. No, really. Wings and all. He apparently didn’t care to show them much, though…more on that later, it was besides the point. You were here, now, with Johnny, in a demon-run carnival that was all a scam to steal people’s souls for who knows what, and apparently, as Johnny had told you when you finally had managed to make it home and finish off that deliciously awaiting BLT, it was up to you to stop them.

That’s right: you. Y-o-u. A human girl that had absolutely NO connection to ANY of this shenanigans until now and would much rather be laughing at the corny overexaggerated jokes of your favorite night time sitcom but were instead standing in what was literally hell on earth.

Your eyes glanced down to the pendant nuzzled between your fingers. A gift from Johnny that he’d basically thrown at you on the way over and almost poked your eye out. Apparently, it was supposed to protect you, and so far it hadn’t done a bad job, you’d admit: “As long as you have it on you,” he’d said as the two of you skulked about the festival grounds, “They won’t be able to see you from a specified distance. The higher ranking the demon, the less effective it is. But get within three feet of any of them, and it’s game over.”

“What about you?” You’d asked, worriedly tossing glances left and right. This carnival was definitely haunted, or infested with some kind of bad juju.

He’d only smiled in return. (He did a lot of smiling for a guy so seemingly serious.)

“Don’t worry about me. They can only see me if I let them...or if I run out of juice. But don’t worry about that right now. Focus on the mission.”

...Sigh. So here you were, at last, staring into an evil tent at an evil ritual happening on evil grounds. Fun.

“Johnny,” you mumbled, gazing sadly back into the dim-auraed tent. “This necklace...you said three feet, right?”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you, then back into the tent as well. “But I told you not to worry too much about it. Even if they do spot you, they won’t be able to touch you so long as you have it touching some part of your body. ...That’s really important, okay? Your pocket won’t work, a small part of it has to make contact with your skin. I’ll say it one more time, for good measure--”

“Don’t. I heard you the first time…”

Geez. Don’t worry, don’t worry. He sure did say that a lot.

“I got it already, just get to the point on what it is that I have to do with any of this. You never explained why it has to be me or why I’m here. Also, shouldn’t we be helping her right now?!”

“...No. Listen to me, be careful to never take that necklace off--”

“What do you mean no?! Are you kidding me right now?!?”

“Shhh!” He pulled the two of you down for the count of twenty rapidly-pacing heartbeats, then slowly back up when he’d deemed the coast to be clear.

Be careful, be careful… Ugh. Your questioning brow gave away your deposition as your thoughts trailed off, peering annoyed and worriedly back at nine handsome men surrounding a helpless injured young woman. “...Why would I do a dumb thing like that?” you asked, countering the previous topic. “Are you kidding me? I don’t have a death wish--”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” His face grew sad and melancholy despite the gentle smile he wore for you. At least 80% of the past few hours, anyway. “Demons are crafty. They’re clever. Though they can’t remove it themselves, they’ll find ways to convince you to do it, to expose yourself to them from the inside. They’ll get in your head and manipulate your heart. It happens all the time…it’s what they’re good at.” He scoffed a bit, nodding to the youngest boy in the circle. “That’s what happened to him.”

“What? Wait, the blob-- I mean, boy...who gave me a ticket?”

You pondered curiously at the red-headed kid with fox-like features. You didn’t know his name, so you’d decided to dub him as Cherry Boy for now. Creative, yes.

“Yeah.” Johnny shifted his weight to one side, inclining his head just slightly. “Not all demons are born demons. A lot of them were once human, or...something else.”

A heavier sadness filled his eyes, a painful memory taking place beyond them. You didn’t like the way he’d said “something else”... You started to reach out for his hand, yet decided against it. You still didn’t know him that well.

You’d try to pry the truth out of him, gently. “Like...what?” you pressed softly.

He took a hefty breath, taking his time to single out two more of the demons you’d soon have the joy of getting to know. All in good time. “That one…and that one, over there.”

“Wait...the...tiger guy? And Freckles?” Your lips pursed. “What about them? They weren’t human?”

Johnny shook his head. “They, uh…” There was an uncomfortably long pause. His next words were so quiet, you really had to strain your ears to hear them, despite the fact he was right beside you: “...fell.”

“...Fell?”

It rolled off your tongue like a stone. Johnny began to sweat. “...From grace. They fell from grace.” He rubbed the back of his neck with equal discomfort. “It’s not something I enjoy talking about. Basically, they were tricked and dragged down to earth and…” he swallowed. “Well, one was dragged, but he’d made the mistake of giving his consent beforehand. He was fooled into a false contact. The other, he was simply fooled into coming down willingly, by use of twisted words. When the song played...it was over.”

Song? There was music? …

…A swaying sickness of dread rushed past along the seasonal breeze. “So...you...knew them…?”

There was no answer for a long time. Johnny cleared his throat to break the uncomfortable silence, once the situation inside was beginning to look grim. Like it hadn’t already.

“...Sort of. We were never close, being in different factions and all.”

“Factions?”

“Never mind that. You ask too many questions.” He nodded once more. “Look.”

You turned your head to peek back inside at one of the many sights you wished you could avoid and forget about entirely. (But alas, there was no way that was happening.) The girl with the white soul was now screaming in agony, and the strings that had previously been attached to her by the boys (...men? Demons?) were glowing red, then a bright, crystal blue…

And then you just knew. It was impossible to miss.

She was gone.

The ringleader of the troupe, who the others had called Chan, paced closer to the girl, tucking a finger beneath her chin and lifting her drooping head gently, with such twistedly sickening love and care that was the largest paradox of the century-- how could it be both so loving, yet so dark?-- and dragged it carefully upward, caressing her face. His voice was as soft as silk.

“My little puppet, are you okay?”

You wanted to throw up and pass out right then and there, but Johnny held you firm again, sending his soothing pulses of comfort and security to steady you (and honestly, what a great power to have). You didn’t like it when the leader spoke. It was too...something. Just too much; it reminded you of fairytales like Snow White and Red Riding Hood, where a witch or a wolf or whoever would speak so sweetly, so kindly, and yet tear the other characters apart, ripping the rug out from under them and dragging up their virtues from the inside out. Just as Johnny had said. You could see how anyone could get lost in the distorted forest it was so easily...

A twisted grin appeared on the face of the Snow-White girl, a cacophony of psychotic laughter leaving her rose-tinted lips.

“Yes, Master Chan. I am perfectly fine.”

You shuddered at those words. It was all you could take.

You didn’t know what came over you next, but there were suddenly twenty-seven different emotions flooding through your veins, hyping you up and tearing you down all at once. And you’d already had your time of the month last week, so that definitely wasn’t it.

Was this it? Were you finally transforming into the Sailor Guardian Johnny had made you out to be? You wanted nothing more than to run in there, tell all those demonic freakshows what they could do with their fancy clothes and beautiful but terrifying faces, and make a 180 to the nearest hospital with the girl in tow.

...You also wanted to turn around and run for the hills alone, with Johnny perhaps, never stepping foot on demonic carnival soil ever again. And, you also kinda wanted to puke; which you almost did, again, but thankfully Johnny whipped up some more of whatever calming magic he’d been pumping you full of almost the entire time you were here, and that chased off the sickness for another while. The two of you stepped away from the tent, Johnny assisting you to fresh (only-partially tainted) air.

“...S-So, let me get this straight…” You shook all the goosebumps out, holding your head high and proud now that you had a bit more distance between certain death and crazytown. “You want me-- me-- a normal [high school/college] girl, to go in there and...what, take down the demons? Are you serious? Is this really happening? What the heck am I supposed to do, threaten to call the police? Throw a sucker punch and hope it lands and I don’t get killed or possessed?! ...Don’t they write fantasy books and fanfiction about this kind of crap?” You sighed. “There’s no way I can--”

“Hush,” Johnny instructed, looking a bit nervously toward the terrifying mass inside. You were speaking too loudly again. “You can and you will. I didn’t just choose you at random, all of this was planned by a greater power upstairs.”

“Greater…?” ...You squinted your eyes in suspicion. “Are you talking about--”

“Most likely, yes, that’d be the one,” he winked. “Actually, my boss sent me. I sorta picked you out last minute, but you have a pure heart, and your soul is good too. You have what it takes, as long as you keep your guard up and follow my instructions, we can and will take these guys out.” He gave a thumbs up. “Sound good?”

Sound good?! ...Oh, yes. Risking my life in an insane zero-chance scenario sounds right up my alley, bro man! Sign me up!

You let out a frustrated groan, beginning to pull and mess with your hair, and Johnny once again shushed you and peered around in a tizzy. “But...I don’t even know what to do!” You put your foot down. “I can’t fight! And I...I don’t wanna hurt anyone.”

That last part had come out pretty weak. Johnny scoffed. “You don’t wanna hurt demons?” He rolled his eyes, scratching his head. “That’s a bit surprising.”

You scowled. He just chuckled and sighed.

“Relax. You’re not totally obliterating them.” He smiled, and the next words he spoke actually brought music to your ears...sort of. Good music.

“You’re going to save them.”

“I’m...huh?!”

“Look.” He leaned against a smaller tent behind him, making himself rather comfortable for the case scenario, and your mind suddenly wandered back to that girl inside the main tent. Was this really the time to be having an idle-- semi-kinda-serious-- chat? “I’m sorry I can’t be with you the entire time. Unfortunately that would get in the way of a lot of character development. But I’ll always be nearby.”

“Character...who...wha? ...” Your hands covered your face a moment, to which you sighed heavily into before holding them out before you. “Johnny, okay, hold on--”

“Here,” he said, tossing something shiny into the air. You caught it unexpectedly, nearly dropping it a few times as it almost slipped through careless fingers. You stared at it hard and skeptically.

“What...is this?”

It was some kind of...whistle? “Blow into that when you need help, and I’ll come to you. But only if it’s a real emergency; it’s not a toy, yeah?”

“......” You beheld him with dumbfounded incredibility, face remaining stoic in blank confusion. “...So it’s like...a dog whistle?” You blinked. “You’re my dog now?”

“Ahem,” He coughed, clearing his throat. “...I’d prefer if you didn’t call it that, but, ...yeah, I guess. Essentially. I guess that’s an accurate analogy.”

“...No way.” The whistle went flying over your shoulder as you turned your back, beginning to take the first few much needed steps out of looney-toon central toward the safety of home. In the direction you thought was homebound. “This is insane. I can’t do it. I’m going to a payphone or home or someplace I can get a signal and calling 911--”

...But of course, a six foot wall had to ruin your dramatic and much needed escape. “Hold on…” Tuxedo Mask sighed. “Look, I won’t stop you again if you really want to go, okay? But if you do, these guys are going to continue running around rampat and steal away thousands of more innocent lives. And that girl will never be the same ever again.”

The scowl you sent him actually made him flinch a bit, though he held his ground nonetheless. “Then why don’t you and all the other angels and heavenly powers do something about it!?”

“SHHH!” Covering your mouth, he looked left, then right before releasing you, gritting his teeth in anger. “...Because...dang it, we can’t, okay?”

...He can’t?

“Why not?”

“......” He ran a troubled hand through his neatly groomed hair. “...I mean, we can, but...we’re not allowed to influence freewill or get involved without human intervention. That’s you. It’s complicated, okay? Just...please.”

...W h a t ?

You didn’t understand any of this. He was giving you the most heartbreaking gaze anyone had ever managed to pull off on the face of the planet; like he’d just witnessed you step on a litter of puppies, or you’d taken his heart and stomped all over it and then backed over it with a steamroller, declaring that boys had cooties and you didn’t want to be infected.

“Please think about it. There’s not much time.”

“.............”

You sighed. A long time had passed, but...every second you wasted thinking about it was a second closer to someone else’s demise, to that girl’s apparent destruction. If it wasn’t too late already.

It’s not your problem, y/n, it’s not your problem…

...Except now, it was. You’d already gotten involved just by being here, and witnessing what you had. Your conscience would never let you live that down, were you to walk away, even if it was to get the police or the fire department or an ambulance. Not if you had the power to do something about it.

And what were any of them going to do about it, anyway? These were demons you were dealing with, not stereotypical robbers or serial killers. And even if you were just a girl...

Curse it all. DANG IT!! 😫

“...” You gulped. “...You swear you’ll protect me if I need you? And you’re not going to abandon me?”

He smiled. Yet again. “I try not to swear, but...you have my word.” He placed a hand over his heart, bowing slightly as an old-fashioned gentleman would. It was cheesy, but you couldn’t help admiring his indication and be just a bit flattered.

“And you promise I can really do this? ...Like, you...really need me for this?”

The angel’s eyes sparkled softly beneath the eerily pale moonlit atmosphere. That blood red sky hanging somewhere beneath a sheet of stars and night. “That, I can promise.” He stood up straight, readjusting his thick coat. “Boss called, said you were the one. Or, at least, you would do. I called before confronting you, to make sure.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You mean before magically materializing beside me and scaring me half to death?”

The accursed man laughed. “Yeah, before that.”

“Hnnn…” Your eyes closed. Thought for a moment.

Then you held out your palm. “...Fine, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ll help. Just call me Buffy the...Demon Slayer,” you joked, smirking at your own dumb humor. “Sailor...Y/n? ...Ugh, just give me the stupid whistle.”

Tuxedo Mask smirked again, holding it up for you. But as soon as he placed it in your hand, something...odd happened. Other than all the chaos and oddities that had been occurring for the past however-many hours or so.

A soft, hollow “boom” echoed in the surrounding atmosphere, and you found yourself looking around wildly for any means of nuclear warfare, cringing into the rising darkness. “What the heck was that?!”

“Calm down. That was meant for you. No one else could hear it,” your new guidance counselor explained. Something almost sinister washed over him for one so...holy. “It means that the game has officially begun.”

“Game?!” You practically screeched. “I thought this was serious! What do you mean, game?”

Johnny continued to smirk. “Oh, it’s serious alright.” He adjusted his coat again, turning his back to you. “We need to get you somewhere safe for the night. DON’T worry about that girl, she’s going to be fine...for now. Eventually,” he’d cut you off. “You can start whenever, but you’re probably going to want at least an hour to adjust and come up with a strategy.”

“What?! Hold it, I still have questions I--”

A stray finger waved to you over his fleeting shoulder. “Follow me. Stay close now.”

You just stood there, gaping like a fish again. A reoccurring theme to this story, you'll soon find out. “Johnny...Johnny!”

...You’d had no choice but to follow him; and so the game had officially begun.

Boom. Game on. ✩

~ ☽✮☾ ~

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matterofperception · 4 years

Text

MUSTAT LESKET FINAL MUSINGS

Okay, so I finished the second (and last) season of Mustat Lesket (Black Widows) a little while ago. It ends on a significant cliffhanger, and with a number of loose ends, but the series was never renewed despite the success of its first. Excuse me while I rant into the void, because there is zero fandom here for me to bounce things off (it’s an old show, 2014/16 AND not in English, so...) and I have so many thoughts...

Firstly, I actually really enjoyed the first season of Mustat Lesket, and would recommend it based on that (and because I think Pihla Viitala is wonderful). It had just the right balance of mystery/thrills and drama, but also black/dry humour (I laughed a lot in S1). A lot of it was far-fetched and beyond belief, but you could kind of let that slide because the show never took itself too seriously. As far as character introductions went, I loved Veera and Johanna, and could understand the trajectories that had led them to feel like killing their husbands was a viable way out. Kirsi, well, she just felt like a necessary caricature, designed to milk the drama for everything it was worth. The dynamic between sweet, gentle Veera, emotional, crazy Kirsi, and strong, wilful Johanna somehow worked in S1.

And when Jukka returned, his redemption arc in S1 was done fantastically. Suddenly, you could understand (although not necessarily condone - same as with the widows and the boat) why he’d been such an asshole, and you could also see Veera start to come to that realisation too. The build up to their reconciliation at the end of S1 was the most authentic and believable in the entirety of the series (with the possible exception of Johanna and Petri, though they didn’t have the romantic chemistry that Veera and Jukka had).

S2 however, was an odd and fragmented ride. With the truth of the boat blast that bonded them no longer a looming threat, suddenly the widows were thrown into very separate storylines. Kirsi, despite Veera and Johanna inexplicably taking her back into the fold after her betrayal, spends half the season away from them locked in a genuinely abusive marriage to a man she’s known for about half a minute. She pushes so far past the point of what is forgivable in terms of her friendships with Veera and Johanna, and becomes increasingly difficult to sympathise with. The bulk of Veera’s storyline is focussed on her weird open relationship with a high-profile MP/author who she has absolutely no chemistry with (I used to think Pihla would have chemistry with a rock - she’s had it with basically everyone else I’ve ever seen her paired with - but I don’t see it at all with this guy) while her own husband becomes a mere inconvenience, and Johanna...well I can’t even remember what Johanna was doing half the time, besides the will-they-won’t-they dance with Petri. The widows then intersect at the tiniest dribs and drabs to talk about the DVD. That’s really it.

And Jukka, oh my god, did they write him into the ground or what? S1′s redemption arc shows him falling back in love with his wife, so much that he’s willing to leave her to make her happy, and then to go to jail to keep her and their daughter safe. And S2 opens with him trying to drown her, not even stopping to question the legitimacy of what Kirsi - who has just been coming on to him behind Veera’s back - is saying? He then spends half the season locked in a basement, and when he does finally get free and worms his way back into Veera and Siiri’s lives, there isn’t a single proper conversation between him and Veera about all that’s gone down between them. Yeesh. By the end of the season, he’s gone legitimately off the rails. Even if there had been a S3 (and Jukka hadn’t been shot in the S2 finale), it would’ve been really hard for him to redeem himself.

I honestly don’t know what drove the storyline decisions here. You’d think that logically, the Veera/Jukka conflict and relationship would have the most potential for drama and rich storytelling (not to mention the strongest bond to the underlying trigger plot of the show - the boat blast). We saw nothing of it in S2. Nothing. It was just swept under the rug. They barely even interact.

I guess I’m just really disappointed in where they took this. I wonder if even the writers/actors were in the dark about where they would take that relationship in S2, because the way they played Veera and Jukka’s reconciliation in S1 was just so…emotionally romantic? In that post-sex scene where they’re talking by the fire, Jukka looked like he absolutely adored her, like he’d have done anything for her. The show had also made an interesting decision to not show them having sex (only the prelude, which was incredibly loving and tender), in contrast to Veera/Erno and Veera/Anttu who we quite graphically see having sex... For a while I’d wondered if they were using the whole ‘making love vs having sex’ contrast to highlight that her relationship with Jukka was special, but that quickly got blown out of the water in S2.

(An aside - it’s interesting that Veera and Anttu barely ever kiss throughout the whole relationship, and I wonder if there was a recognised chemistry issue between Pihla and the guy who plays Anttu).

Based on what they’d shown us about their feelings, realistically both Jukka and Veera should’ve been way more devastated by Kirsi’s reveal. Surely, he would’ve wanted to understand. Surely a part of him wouldn’t even believe it until hearing it from her (especially bearing in mind Kirsi has just been coming on to him behind Veera’s back)? Surely he’d have been heartbroken as well as angry? And surely Veera would’ve been more hurt by his reaction, would’ve understood his anger, and would’ve wanted to explain things to him (they basically wrote S2 as if she didn’t care enough to try)? S2 made a huge mockery of the redemption arc of S1. It made Veera look fickle and unattached and Jukka regress into the volatile asshole he’d been presented as at the start of S1. And perhaps most significantly of all, it denied Veera of a redemption arc of her own. The reality, is that she should’ve wanted that redemption - she was wrong about him, and had nearly killed him because of it. Why didn’t the writers address that?? It really pissed me off that they just had Veera brush that whole thing under the carpet.

And Anttu, oh my gosh I don’t even know what angle they were going for with this storyline? Were we supposed to be rooting for him? Because I was really not. First off, I don’t believe that Veera would ever be so desperate to seriously pursue the relationship in the first place - she is fiercely protective of her daughter (to the point she was willing to kill her husband to protect her) so I doubt she would’ve engaged in a relationship that she knew would never provide any stability for Siiri.

And Anttu himself, what the hell? He takes her out for a public dinner, and then everyone acts like it’s such a shock when the media snaps them out together and reports on it as gossip? Veera’s humiliated and hurt, but doesn’t even have enough pride to walk away from a) him b) the job she has working for his wife until way later on? All the while, her own husband is popping in and out of her life and it’s like she’s just flicked the off switch on her feelings for him? It just makes no sense to me!

And then there’s the fact that we aren’t shown any great emotional connection between Veera and Anttu. They basically had no emotional or sexual chemistry. We’re meant to believe that the pull between these characters is so strong, and the audience is told by way of the characters that Veera and Anttu are supposedly so attracted to each other, but the chemistry is so non-existent that we don’t see it. The clincher though, is that he was actually kind of an asshole. The show tried to present him as this wholesome guy, but he didn't actually seem to give two shits about her wellbeing at all - he showed up at her house the first time she broke it off basically to convince her to keep sleeping with him on the side (telling her how attracted he was to her while her kid was in hearing distance, wtf), took her out to dinner knowing that people would likely talk, brushed off her concerns about the photos, outed her name to the press against her wishes, stood by his wife and basically belittled her and treated her like the other woman on live television, then when she tried to break it off for good he kept pursuing her because he wanted her, like she was some kind of trophy (and ‘I’m not used to being dumped’ - OH PLEASE!). He had no regard for her feelings or wishes at all. The scene where he shows up at her house with the party invite and wouldn’t even let her speak raised my hackles - I mean, was that supposed to be romantic? Him constantly stalking her despite her saying ‘no’ on multiple occasions, and showing up at her house (and scaring her kid) despite her wishes? Honestly, it just about killed me seeing Veera allowing herself to be treated like that. She deserves so much better, and it was really unsatisfying to see the series end with her going back to him (the fact that he left his wife is really the least of the issues).

So maybe I wrote all that just to come to the conclusion that - I’m actually kind of glad that we’ll never see beyond the ending of S2. Perhaps I’ll just pretend that this universe concluded at the end of S1, before Kirsi had the chance to make that phone call. I’ll pretend that Veera eventually told Jukka of her own accord, that they fought and got angry, and made up and were able to understand each others’ circumstances. That they talked and kissed and made love at the villa, and plotted a way to keep the police off Veera’s back. And then they lived happily ever after with Siiri. Sigh.

#mustat lesket #black widows #finnish tv #pihla viitala #Ville Tiihonen #veera joentie #jukka joentie #veera x jukka #I love them and am bitter about how they were written post S1

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set-phasers-to-whump · 4 years

Text

not invincible

X=done, O=taken

Prompt: fevers

Whumpee: Will Riker

Fandom: Star Trek TNG

For: @has-a-blonde-sidekick

team riker whump let’s gooooooo,,,hope u like this!!!

Will Riker was not the type of person that would go to Sickbay at the slightest inconvenience. Or the largest one, really. He had more important things to do than be injured or sick.

Like today, for example. He had the responsibility of leading a small away mission to a new Federation colony to deliver some supplies and check up on the colonists’ progress. While this wasn’t exactly a thrilling exploration, he enjoyed visiting colonies, and besides, he could get some real fresh air, maybe even take a little nature walk-the holodeck, for all its capabilities, really couldn’t compare to the bona fide outdoors.

Maybe a walk in nature would lessen the pounding in his head. It had begun as soon as he had woken up, spiked dramatically when he’d gotten up out of his bed, so that he’d had to collapse back onto it for a second, and then mellowed out into something tolerable but irritating. Not the end of the world, he figured.

He’d skipped breakfast, having felt extremely and decidedly Not Hungry, and arrived for his shift on the Bridge slightly earlier than he needed to. He chatted with a young Ensign who had also shown up for shift early until shift began, at which point he gratefully sank down into his chair next to the Captain. Why did his legs ache? He hadn’t done any strenuous exercise involving them recently.

“Morning, sir.”

“Good morning, Will. Sleep well?”

Not really. He’d woken up twice in the middle of the night, the first time feeling entirely too hot, the second entirely too cold. “I slept fine. Any important news yet?”

“Nothing. The colonists are expecting our visit at 1100 hours.”

He nodded, then relaxed into his chair. He had a few hours of hopefully-not-much before he had to do anything. He’d be fine by then, he told himself. He just needed a minute to relax, or something.

The morning was filled with usual, menial activity. Reports came and went, small talk was made, and the ship cruised along at warp three, uninterrupted by anything out of the ordinary.

They arrived at the colony slightly ahead of schedule, and its leader invited the away team down at once, if they wished, to have a look around.

Ordinarily, Riker would have been appreciative of the chance to explore the colony, but as the morning had progressed, his headache had grown more intense, not to mention he’d steadily felt colder and colder, yet he was pretty sure he was sweating. He was sick, he knew. But not that sick, not really. Certainly nothing worthy of a trip to Sickbay.

He took a second to mentally prepare himself for the task of standing up, and called to the members of his away team-“Data, Worf, with me. A science officer will meet us in Transporter Room Three.”

He stood up and wavered on his feet for a moment as black dots swam in his field of vision. Picard reached out and steadied him by the elbow.

“Are you alright, Number One?”

He jerked his elbow out of Picard’s grasp, a little harder than he’d perhaps meant to. “I’m fine. Sir.”

Picard looked at him, something like worry on his face. He looked as if he might say something, but didn’t. He sat back down, and the three members of the away team stepped into the turbolift.

Riker leaned-what he hoped was subtly-against the wall of the turbolift. His legs, apparently having decided that aching was not enough, had begun to shake slightly, and, while he didn’t think it was noticeable to the others, it was certainly noticeable to him. Stop shaking, he thought at himself, as though that would do anything.

But if the others noticed anything unusual about him, they didn’t mention it. The three arrived at the transporter room, where they were met by Lieutenant Alvarez, a science officer specializing in horticulture, who would be checking up on the colony’s plant life. The four of them beamed down, and were immediately greeted by a smiling woman with dirt on her clothes and mud in her hair.

“Good morning, officers! I do apologize for my messy state, I’ve been tending the gardens all morning. They’re doing just marvellously, by the way-but let me show you!”

Data and Lieutenant Alvarez followed her, while Worf and Riker each picked up a box of supplies and headed towards the main building of the colony.

Ordinarily, a large, heavy box would have been no problem for Riker, who was, after all, very capable of lifting heavy things. However, the universe seemed to really have it out for him today-his palms were sweaty and he kept almost losing his grip, his legs were still shaking, and now his arms had decided to join in as well, plus his head was still pounding. He nearly lost his footing several times on the fairly short walk, and by the time he arrived, Worf was already inside, his box having been placed on a table. Its contents were being unpacked by a small group of colonists, who were attempting to engage in conversation with him and finding it difficult.

As soon as Riker stepped into the room, the box fell out of his hands and to the floor. It landed the right way up, as though he’d carelessly dropped it on the ground instead of losing his grip on it. His hands were shaking, he noticed, and he looked down at them, and then looked up, to where everyone in the room was looking at him.

“Didn’t mean to drop that quite so hard,” he said, in what he hoped was a lighthearted tone. He picked the box back up, or did his best to, and Worf came to his side, taking the box from him and gently setting it on the table like it weighed nothing at all.

“Are you...okay, Commander?”

“Of course, yeah. I just...lost my grip on the box, that’s all.”

Worf looked at him skeptically but said nothing. He headed outside, nodding slightly at the confused-looking colonists who had watched that whole exchange.

Riker also turned to the colonists, nodded sharply (which made the pain in his head spike once again), and followed Worf out of the building.

The two of them milled around for a few minutes, waiting for the other two members of the away team to return, so that they might discuss how the colony was progressing. Or rather, Worf milled around, wandering among the colony’s few buildings as though he were inspecting them for safety violations. Riker simply stood in the dirt, watching the scenery around him tilt and blur, feeling like his whole being was slowly melting.

He attempted to lessen this feeling in the only way that made sense to his fever-ridden mind, and sat down on the ground, placing his head between his knees. This accomplished nearly nothing, but he wasn’t in danger of collapsing and falling to the ground any longer, so he counted that as a win, somewhere in the back of his mind.

Somewhere even further in the back of his mind, he recognized that he had to be nearly delirious with fever, but that thought was overrun by the more pressing matter of said fever, which was making it very difficult for him to do any kind of thinking beyond “everything hurts and I might be dying.”

Through his distorted vision, Riker managed to make out a shape advancing toward him. As that shape got closer, it resolved itself into the muddled form of Worf. Without thinking, Riker shot to his feet, not wanting to be caught sitting down in the dirt for no good reason.

This was, naturally, an extremely foolish idea, as he had no sooner shot to his feet than he was pitching forward, an intense wave of dizziness knocking him too far off balance to possibly recover. He nearly fell to the ground, but was stopped at the last second by a pair of arms which caught him and pushed him back into a standing position.

He most likely would have collapsed again, but the owner of the arms had apparently realized that something was wrong, and had placed hands firmly on his shoulders to prevent that outcome.

Riker slowly blinked his eyes open, trying to clear the fog of dizziness. His eyes made out the gold color of an Operations uniform, and he became dimly aware that someone was speaking to him.

“Commander!”

“Hm?”

A hand came up hesitantly to his forehead and was quickly withdrawn. “Commander, your temperature appears to be far too warm. Are you ill?”

“Worf?”

“Yes.”

Had he been about to say something? There had been something he’d needed to say...what was it again?

A sharp tap to the side of his face brought his thoughts back into reality. “Commander!”

“I feel...really bad,” he managed to say, feeling his words slide and melt into each other. “Hurts.”

“What hurts, Commander?”

“Dunno. Everything.”

He decided he’d said enough at this point, and simply slumped forward into Worf’s arms. Everything was so very uncomfortable, and he just wanted to fall asleep and wake up and feel better.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. The next time he woke up, he was lying face up on a couch which was most definitely not aboard the Enterprise. He was freezing, and his head still hurt.

“Wh’re am I?”

“You are in the home of Miss Marion Jones, one of the colonists, Commander,” said Data, from somewhere to his right. Riker attempted to look for him, moving his head, but felt something-something very cold-slip off of his forehead.

“Don’t move, please,” came the voice of the woman who’d greeted them-Marion, Riker took it.

Whatever had slipped off his forehead was put back. He clumsily reached up a hand to move it. “What is that?” he muttered. “‘S cold.”

“It’s just a cold cloth, Commander. You have a dangerously high fever, nearly 104 degrees,” said Marion.

“Oh.”

He thought for a moment, doing his best to process. “Why...why am I not back on the ship, then?”

“Electromagnetic storm,” piped up Lieutenant Alvarez. “Not a big one, but bad enough to interfere with transporter function. The colonists estimate it will take about an hour to pass.”

“Oh.”

“You will be fine,” Data added. “The colonists lack sophisticated medical supplies, but they are well versed in basic Earth medicine, and they are confident that, providing they keep your fever below 104 degrees, you shall not sustain any damage.”

He supposed he should have been grateful for this news, but he was freezing and achy and once again on the edge of delirium, so he said nothing beyond a simple “mm.” of agreement.

Throughout the following hour, the fully lucid members of the away team took turns talking with the few colonists who had congregated in the house and trying to make contact with the Enterprise.

Marion made tea for the group, and she and Alvarez chatted about the plants she was hoping to grow in the coming years. Data engaged in conversation with two children who had come by who were fascinated by the idea of an android. Even Worf found a suitable conversation partner, a young woman with a passion for studying weaponry. The room was filled with quiet chatter, and it would have been a lovely, peaceful scene, if it weren’t for the underlying worry for the Commander’s state-while his temperature was not yet dangerous, it had most likely been rising all day, and there was no guarantee that it would not continue to do so. Therefore, every few minutes, someone would check up on him and report his status to the group.

This went on for perhaps half an hour, at which point the storm reached its peak. Conversation had reached a lull, cups of tea had been emptied, and a tense silence filled the room.

This was the scene to which Riker awoke, his mind hazy, his thoughts still jumbled. He groaned lightly and tried to sit up. A gentle hand was placed on his chest, stopping his movement.

“Still here?” he asked clumsily.

“Yes, Commander,” replied Data, sitting down on the floor next to the couch. “The storm has reached a peak, however, and the colonists estimate it will be over within twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes should not have seemed like a long time, because it wasn’t, but to Riker, it seemed like an eternity.

“Twenty minutes? That’s...that’s so long.”

Data might have said something in reply, but his ears suddenly chose to not cooperate, and whatever was said was lost in a distorted garble. He felt so bad…

He woke up the next time to near silence. He could hear faint voices coming from somewhere, and attempted to focus on them.

“-gets much worse and I don’t know what else we can do. The electromagnetic interference should fade within another half hour, maybe even less, but-”

Another half hour? He was so tired of being here, of being sick...but what could he do?

The answer was, obviously, get up and leave. He was fully capable of that, right? He had to be. So he stood up and made his way towards the door. His hand was on the knob when he felt himself be pulled away, and he reached desperately out for the door.

“Commander, you cannot leave. You should not be standing,” Worf instructed, steering him back to the couch.

“‘M fine. Don’t wanna be here.”

“I do not wish you to be here either, Commander. However, it will be only a few minutes before we can beam back to the ship.”

“You said half ‘n hour.”

“Lieutenant Worf said that twenty minutes ago,” Data informed him. “The electromagnetic radiation has nearly dissipated.”

“Oh.” Time, apparently, did all sorts of strange things when you weren’t capable of paying attention to it. “That’s nice.”

He drifted in and out of consciousness for the next several minutes, until he heard the distinctive voice of Captain Picard come through a combadge. “Understood, Mr. Data. One to beam directly to Sickbay.”

The next instant, he was lying on the floor in Sickbay. Someone hauled him to his feet and said something which he couldn’t quite make out, and he blacked out once again.

He woke up the next time feeling uncomfortably warm and a great deal less achy.

“How are you feeling, Will?” came the voice of Dr. Crusher.

He looked up at her and managed a small smile. “Hot. But better.”

She smiled back. “Your fever’s broken. It was already starting to come down when you beamed back up, but I gave you a little something to speed it up. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

“Thanks.”

“Although,” Dr. Crusher began, and he cringed inwardly, knowing exactly where this was going, “if you had just come to me this morning, you could have avoided most of your suffering.”

“It wasn’t that bad this morning,” he defended.

“Really? Jean-Luc told me you nearly collapsed on the Bridge. Why he didn’t stop you then…” she drifted off, then looked at him with a glare that wasn’t really angry, more just...concerned.

He couldn’t think of what to say besides, “sorry.”

“It’s okay, Will. Just please come to me next time? You don’t have to be strong and invincible all the time, you know.”

He nodded. “I guess.”

She ran a hand through his hair, which he noted, belatedly, was plastered to his forehead with sweat. “Get some sleep,” she advised.

He did.

*insert obligatory “I know the ending isn’t that great, sorry” here* Thanks for reading this!!!!!! Hope it was alright!!!!

#bad things happen bingo #fevers #fever #sick #delirium #will riker #star trek tng #my writing #i say things #i looked up fever symptoms for this one and i was about to try and add the website to my nonexistent works cited page sjkdfhjdfhs #anyway hope this was ok!!!!

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moon-beam95 · 5 years

Text

Loving him was red

By: Moon-Beam95

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Ben Hargreeves x Reader

Ben was your favourite among your siblings, he was quiet and saw things others didn't. He spent most of his time with Klaus, guiding him, helping him, protecting him. He saw something in Klaus others didn't. Our other siblings thought less of Klaus, that his powers weren't as useful, not as active for the field. You knew that wasn't true Klaus had potential but what could you do, you were the ordinary surrounded by the extraordinary. So you supported Ben, sweet quiet Ben who so clearly loved his brother.

You were siblings but shared no blood ties, and you knew that at this age what you felt was slightly more than platonic. Just as you knew that eventually they would evolve into something more. How could they not?

His powers saw others shy away from him, scared of the horrors within. But that's what made him extraordinary, let me clarify not his powers but how he uses them. The others let their gifts go to their heads. Luthor with his strength believes himself to be the best, invincible. Allison who uses her powers to get whatever she wants. Diego who became arrogant, rushing in constantly trying to take charge, Number Five is who knows where and Klaus who runs from his, spending his days in a drug filled haze.

But Ben, Ben was humble and didn't let his powers define him, he hated hurting others, wanted to get in and out on missions. He was, you believed, fundamentally a good person.

As you grew, you stayed in the shadows, unimportant, unseen helping Dad in anyway possible to make sure the team ran smoothly. Also helping Mom around the house, bake and other such things.

Well you did have a hidden agenda on learning to bake. You wanted to make something for Ben. Lately you began to have more than platonic feelings, you caught your self looking for him when you entered a room. Smiling when he was helping Klaus. A crush Mom said, all data pointed to a crush and so she suggested making him something. So here I was learning to make his favourite biscuits.

You stood covered in flour, marvelling at how easy Mom made this all seem. You looked on mournfully at the slightly burnt biscuits, what did it say that these were the best batch? You heard footsteps, and turned gulping when you saw the object of your affections,

His nose crinkles at the sight of the usually pristine kitchen upturned, ingredients covering the counters. "What happened here"

You move to stand in front of the biscuits and laugh nervously waving his question off rather frantically. "Oh you know, just helping Mom."

He raised an eyebrow, amused at your flustered behaviour, it was rather cute. He walked closer peering over your shoulder at the plate of biscuits. Your shoulders slumped, and you let out a sigh.

"They were supposed to be Ginger Snap biscuits"

A smile tugged at his lips as you continued "They were supposed to be for you."

"For me?"

You sigh, hands playing with fiddling with your apron before turning and starting to clean the back tops. So he couldn't see the tears that began to sting your eyes.

He froze at your admission, touched at the gesture. He was often forgotten by his siblings, and in the background when it came to spending time with Mom. So this, this was unexpected, but it filled him with a warmth that you took the time to do this for him. Seeing your shoulders began to tremble he stepped forwards and placed a hand on your shoulder before steeling himself and brushing his lips against your cheek, blushing all the while.

This time it was your turn to freeze, and a blush spread across your face at the feel of him, you slowly turned around a silly grin on your face but unable to meet his eyes. He stretched past you to take a biscuit ignoring your protests. It was a bit burnt but gave a rather crisp snap as he nibbled on it but the effort made it all the more sweeter.

After that you two started to spend more time together, it had the added affect of you getting to know Klaus more, it was strange having someone who actually acted like a brother. He teased you and Ben but gratefully gave you two time two yourself and covered when you both would slip away for a moment. It wasn't much, just time spent in each others presence, a graze of hands when you past one another, twining fingers together under the dinner table. It was sweet, the perfect romance.

There were downsides to your new relationship of course, worry. Every time he went out on a mission you worried, he was reckless when it came to protecting Klaus, but you really couldn't blame him, none of the others care. Not to mention he was the one who got stuck fighting with multiple assailants due to his numerous tentacles. You did like what came after the missions though, you'd peer around the med-bay door and silently watch Pogo patch him up and then you’d both retire to one of your rooms and just lie on the bed, bodies pressed against each other sharing caresses, basking in his presence, just reassuring yourself he was here and he was safe.

Your first kiss was bittersweet. The mission alarm rang and the house was a flurry of activity as you stood beside Dad ready to leave. As the rest filed out Dad at the helm, you reached up to finish closing his zipper and smoothing your hands across his shoulders removing non existing lint. As you looked up, your eyes were caught by his, locked in a moment. His head bent towards yours and your eyes fluttered close as his lips touched yours, tentatively. You sigh into him encouragingly, as your mouths moved against each other, exploring. You broke apart lightly panting, foreheads pressed against each other smiling.

"I have to go" he said.

You nodded suddenly reluctant to let him leave and he pressed another brief kiss to your lips.

You followed Dad to a nearby building so as to watch how the mission played out. It was a usual tasks you helped Dad record what happened so as to go over how to improve for the next time they were called out. Yet this time it all went wrong, you leaned against the edge of the rooftop building peering through your binoculars when it happened. You could not say for sure exactly what happened only that one moment they were winning and the next they were not and there was a sea of red. A scream wrenched itself from your throat as you saw him fall, knuckles whitening from tension as you clutched the binoculars. The screams kept coming as he didn't get back up and you saw another of your siblings check him and start to cry.

You felt weightless numb, the world began to spin and you became vaguely aware of your Dad tugging you away from rapidly the approaching edge.

You had longed for years for any show of love from Dad but now, here,it left a sour taste, and you tried to frantically beat your hands on his chest. You collapsed to the ground with heart wrenching walls as his arms circled you, trying to muffle the sound, it wouldn't do for anyone to find you up here.

But you couldn't care, all you could see was the boy you loved drowning in blood, never again to kiss you, to hold you, to tell you that he finds you beyond extraordinary.

He was gone before you truly began. All those plans you had made, nights curled up in the library, making a future, gone. And now every memory would be tainted by his last. For once his name was apt. The Horror.

End.

#fanfiction #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #umbrella academy #umbrella academy fanfiction #ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves drabble #ben hargreeves fanfiction

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shadowsof-thenight · 5 years

Text

Fictober day 15: Nervous

Promptnumber: 30 “I’m with you, you know that.” Fandom: MCU Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Maria Hill makes an appearance Warnings: description of chronic illness Words: 2380 Summary: You have a secret and you’re not sure how or when to tell him

A/n: kinda a scenario that’s close to home, because when do you tell someone that your chronically ill...

Nervous

That first date had unexpectedly been wonderful. Having been set up, you didn’t know what to expect beforehand. Of course you knew who he was. There wasn’t a soul in the world that did not know Captain America. His celebrity had made you incredibly nervous. Why would someone like him, go out with someone like you? Wouldn’t he want someone more flashy? Adventurous? There were so many questions that swirled around in your head and there were no answers for them. They weren’t yours to answer.

Maria had promised you that it would be fine. Which would have eased some of your fears if you hadn’t known her as well as you did. She tended to say that about everything.

World falling apart? It would be fine.

Aliens attacking New York? It would be fine, the right people were on it.

Trusting her judgement might have gotten a tad harder, after you needed to be saved from a crumbling building during the attack on New York. That didn’t stop her firm belief that all would work itself out, it never faltered. And as a pessimist, having a friend with such rock solid faith was nice. She always knew just what to say to you, to make things seem less daunting.

Same went for this semi blind date. She had helped you pick an outfit and made sure your confidence was boosted by the time he came to pick you up. And having around for the initial contact was good too. She easily broke the tension with her pragmatic attitude.

“Steve, timely as always.” Those were her first words upon opening the door for him. You chuckled, knowing there was nothing sarcastic about them either. She valued punctuality. It had taken her some time to accept your ability to always cutting it short. Maria stepped aside, allowing Steve entry into the apartment. She then quickly introduced you, since you hadn’t actually met before. And then she swiftly waved you off.

“Have fun, you two” she said, pretending to be a mother waving off her kids. Including a handkerchief to catch the tears as she watched her only daughter go off. Tension was a thing of the past then. Laughing you both waved goodbye. Maria really was a good friend to have.

Steve led you to his car that was parked in front of the building. Chivalrous as he was, he held open the door for you. The first of many gallant acts he bestowed on you. It was nice, refreshing. Maria had joked that your old soul would mash well with his actual old age and somehow you agreed with her now. There was no awkwardness in accepting his courtly behaviour, he managed a healthy balance between that and modern standards.

Soon you found that his chivalry wasn’t the best part of him. He was funny. As the captain he was often viewed as strict, somewhat stoic and a true do-gooder. Steve however was a different story. He had his strong opinions, though there was little stoic behaviour present. He was even slightly mischievous.

The date flowed well, conversation came easily. There was lots of laughter and at the end of the night, you felt like you had truly gotten to know one another.

A second date was planned in rapid succession and it was rather similar. Conversations grew a little deeper as a connection quickly grew. He made you laugh so hard you cried and made you feel safe and comfortable. Not always such an easy feat.

Still it wasn’t until the third date that you finally dared bring up your health. Or more accurately, your health problems. You almost chickened out, wondering just how he would react. Last time he had mentioned his love for running and hiking, wondering if you liked it as well. You had been as honest as you could, without mentioning your issues just yet. You had told him that running had never been your thing, but you did love hiking. Quickly adding that you rarely had the opportunity to do so. Steve had been quick to promise he would take you hiking sometime.

You should have told him then and there, but it was hard. A difficult subject to breech, at least for you. It wasn’t something you spoke off often, since you were still busy coming to terms with it. However, you felt now that it was necessary to inform him. If it was something he would struggle with, it would be easier to walk away from this now, than it would be in a few weeks. He was far to charming and had been tugging at your heartstrings already. The longer this went on, the harder it would be to end.

Which was why, for that third date, you had invited him to your home. Show him your love for cooking and hoping that could win him over once he knew more about your disease.

It had been two years since you got diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, a chronic illness, and it hadn’t been easy. Initially you had felt liberated by the diagnosis. After years of feeling sick it had been nice to know what was wrong. It had given you something to work on, a way to make you feel better. You could still see the doctors face as he regarded your expression, trying to read your response. In all those years, not one of your previous doctors had even thought of this. It had been a shock. Especially since there was only one person that had this disease and upon his diagnosis, he looked rather close to death. As if he was already standing with one foot in the grave. Surely with the right medication he had gotten much better, but that image of his sunk in cheeks and hollow eyes was still the first thing that came to mind.

It had not been similar to your case at all. There had been no massive weight loss or ten bathroom breaks an hour. For you it had been mostly fatigue. Extreme fatigue, a bloated stomach, painful joints and infections all throughout your body. There was so much pain and to took so long before medication calmed it all down. Still the fatigue never left you, nor the painful joints.

It had made dating a daunting task, creating a period of several years in which you simply avoided it all together. That was why Maria had been setting you up, she wanted you too embrace life again. To fully live. Steve had not been the first guy she set you up with. It had been the first one to be successful though. He had been sweeping you off your feet from the moment you’d met.

And telling him now, was the scariest thing you had done in a long while.

You’d spend the day leading up to the dinner as a nervous wreck. You had woken up early, unable to find any rest or some piece of mind. This meant that by the time Steve came around, you had already been beyond tired. And the kind of tired that made you emotional, which was great, just marvellous.

Terrified of how he’d react, you knew you’d be crying before the first word would have left your mouth. That was a sure way to make things even harder and it would definitely be dramatic. What would Steve think if he saw you crying? He’d probably think of worse things. All you could do was hope that you’d keep the tears at bay long enough for the words to come out first. Explaining tears of stress was much easier to do after the message was shared.

Upon his arrival it didn’t take Steve long to notice your discomfort. Still you did not tell him immediately. For in your mind there had been a plan. Dinner, dessert and then talking. And in your exhausted state it felt incredibly important to stick to the schedule. But you couldn’t focus on the conversation and more then once Steve needed to repeat the words he had spoken. That wasn’t like you and he had figured that out already.

Finally, after the umpteenth time, he dropped his fork and moved around the table to squat beside you. Taking your hand in his, he caressed it gently, asking you to tell him whatever was bothering you. Pressing that whatever it was, he wanted to help you.

The kindness of his gesture was enough to spill the tears of exhaustion and you laughed an apology as you wiped them away. This was not really going your way, he hadn’t eaten enough of your pasta to have fallen in love with it yet. And your blubbering must have looked incredibly strange to the wonderful man next to you.

“I’m sorry, I’m just really tired” you began, still trying to wave off his concern, but Steve immediately figured there was more too it and asked you to open up to him.

“It’s not that big a deal, I just…” you promised, though your voice cracked with emotion, making it hard to believe. Even you could see that.

“Just what?” His voice was soft as he spoke and his fingers were still caressing your hand.

“There was something I wanted to tell you tonight and I’ve just been so nervous” you finally offered.

“Why?” He seemed surprised, confused and you couldn’t blame him. No subject had been taboo yet. The two of you had been able to talk about anything. Almost anything.

“It’s stupid really” you tried to laugh it off again, a nervous tick you never had been able to shake. As soon as things got serious or in any way emotional, you cracked a joke or laughed about it.

“Then tell me”

“I’m sick.” Well that sounded far more dramatic than you intended. “I have a chronic illness and it just has not been the right time to tell, but it also felt like you needed to know” your words came out rushed and you barely looked at him as you spewed them out.

“Okay” he said, seemingly letting it sink in, “Care to tell me what it is?”

“Crohn’s” you sighed. There was no way to romanticise an auto immune disease that manifested itself in your intestines.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know much about it,” he offered honestly, having the good sense to mimic your serious expression.

“That’s okay,” you smiled, figuring out the best way to explain a disease like this. “It’s an autoimmune disease. Causing my body to basically fight itself”

“Oh wow” it appeared to you that he didn’t know what to say and though technically it could mean anything, it worried you more than you liked to admit.

“Yeah,” you sighed again, “it’s- it’s not stable and in return I am always tired. Which is why I’ve been so aloof when it comes to your hiking plans.”

“That’s okay,” He was quick to say, obviously trying to ease your nerves, “You don’t owe me an explanation for that.”

“But I feel like I do,” you pressed, looking him in the eye as you tried to make him understand what this meant, for you and perhaps for him, “Because you’re an active guy and right now, I can’t be a partner in that, perhaps I never will be again. You need to understand that.”

“I..”he swallowed, “I understand.”

“So, if that is a dealbreaker, just…no hard feelings,” you offered, trying to put on a brave face and smiling his way. Though your eye contact was lacking again. There was a small silence that followed in which you looked down at your still entwined hands. He was probably thinking of a nice way to turn you down. A way to walk away from here without losing face. You’d understand. You were still coming to terms with being sick yourself, you couldn’t expect others to get there easily. And unlike you, he was able to walk away from this. He deserved the opportunity to do so.

“You thought that could be a dealbreaker?” He finally whispered and you looked up at him. He was smiling kindly at you.

“ You never know. Friends have walked away for less,” You shrugged simply, not willing to get into that just now.

“ I’m sorry to hear that” he said, standing up and pulling you with him, “But I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

He pulled you into his arms, embracing you tightly as if to show you the truth to his words. You knew he would need time to really let the information sink in. And there would be more conversations. Where you would have to explain all the consequences this disease had on your life and by emend on his, if he really did stay. But for now, you had been honest and he had been a real gentleman about it. That was enough for the time being. He didn’t run.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you were already worrying about other conversation you’d have to have with him still. How having children might be harder, though it might not be. How an inflammation of the disease could render you practically useless. How there would be a lifetime of medication and surgery. This was a life sentence and that was hard to explain to someone that didn’t have to deal with it.

You knew those conversations needed to be had, but you didn’t need to overwhelm him with everything all at once. There would be time for that later. If the two of you would share a future, those conversation would come. And perhaps, by then you’d have a better grasp on it all yourself.

“Y/n,” Steve whispered as he gently swayed you to music only he seemed to hear.

“Yeah?” You wondered, afraid to move, infer of breaking this wonderful moment.

“I’m with you, you know that, right?”

You pulled back slightly, looking at his face. He seemed so serious, sincere. He really wanted to let you know he wasn’t walking and your heart stuttered as a smile formed on your face. Reaching up you gently placed your lips on his, answering his kindness with the only thing that seemed to convey the emotions you felt.

***

Fictober19 Masterlist

#Fictober19 #MCU fanfiction #Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers #chronic illness

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raywritesthings · 4 years

Text

In the Dead of Night 9/9

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Moira Queen, Quentin Lance, Thea Queen, Tommy Merlyn, John Diggle, Sara Lance, Walter Steele, Dinah Lance Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen (Eventual) Summary: Oliver Queen returns to Starling City after five years away, three years after Sara Lance was found and rescued by her mother. More troubling to him is Laurel’s abrupt and unexplained absence from the city for the same length of time that her sister’s been home. Three years into the past, Dinah Lance makes a terrible choice. *Can be read on my AO3 or FFN (links to both accounts are in bio)*

Present day

Moira was beside herself.

It was bad enough that Oliver had clearly disregarded her wishes and found a way to head out of the country before she could realize it. She was accustomed to him keeping odd hours ever since his return, but when she hadn’t been able to reach either Mr. Diggle or Tommy she had become suspicious. Then one of the staff had informed her that Thea had never made it in the previous night.

Moira had tried every number she could think of to reach her baby. The trouble was she had only a vague knowledge of which classmates she spent her time with. When she failed to show up for school two days in a row was when Moira truly started to panic.

She went to see Malcolm, for if anyone perhaps was keeping better track of her family than her, it would be him. Imagine her surprise when she was informed he, too, was out of town on business.

What was left? To file a missing person’s report? And on which of her children?

Moira was still pondering this in the office rather than pay attention to her emails when she received a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hello, this is Heather with Starling General. May I speak to Moira Queen?”

Moira’s heart jumped into her throat. Why would the hospital be contacting her, unless— “Speaking.”

“You are listed as the next of kin for a Walter Steele. He was admitted this morning.”

“Walter?” Her voice barely sounded recognizable.

“That’s correct, ma’am.”

Moira’s hand covered her mouth. How and why had Walter been returned? What sort of play was Malcolm trying to make here?

“Is he alright?”

“The doctors would be more comfortable discussing the patient’s care with you in person.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Heart pounding in her chest, she made her excuses to her secretary without mentioning her husband; she still couldn’t quite believe it. Her driver could tell she was agitated but wisely refrained from saying anything as usual.

Moira entered the hospital and was given directions to Walter’s room. A doctor was waiting for her outside.

“Mr. Steele has suffered some dehydration, but should make a full recovery. We recommend keeping him here overnight for observation before returning him to his home.”

“Of course,” Moira agreed, distracted as her gaze went beyond the doctor and into the room. Walter was there, sitting up in bed. Real and returned.

She didn’t really register walking up to him. Between one breath and the next she was there reaching for his hand. “Walter.”

“Moira,” he replied, though it was with a grimace rather than a smile. His eyes dropped to their hands. “Where are Thea and Oliver?”

The question stung, though not just from the slight insult. “I- I don’t know.”

His head jerked back up. “Good lord, they weren’t—”

“No.” Malcolm would never, not if he knew what was good for him. “Oliver was talking about taking a trip. I asked him not to, but he, he won’t listen to me anymore. And Thea...I’m not sure. She disappeared around the same time.”

Had they gone together? She’d be happier knowing they were both in the same place and had each other, but it angered her to know Oliver had not only ignored her but dragged his sister along with him. Did he simply not care how she felt or how she worried?

“Once we have you home, we can look for them.”

Walter hummed, not a refusal but not exactly an agreement. Moira wondered if he knew after all.

She stayed regardless until visitor’s hours were over, then returned early the next day to secure his discharge papers. It would be better to get Walter home ahead of the press finding out, after all.

Malcolm still wasn’t returning her calls. A worry settled itself deep in her bones: what if Thea or Oliver were missing because Walter was here?

It was irrational. Impossible. Yet as she helped him up the stairs, Moira’s hands trembled. She was sure he noticed.

They both jumped as her phone went off in her purse. Moira fished it out, hardly believing the name on the caller ID.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hey mom,” Oliver said, sounding perfectly at ease. “I wanted to let you know I’m bringing some people over to the house with us.”

“Us?” She echoed.

“Me, Digg and Thea,” he answered.

Moira let out a breath she’d been holding for days. “She’s with you? Good. Oliver, I need you to come home with Thea and Mr. Diggle right now, but this is not a time for guests.”

“Walter’s back.” It wasn’t a question.

“How did you know?”

“There’s some things we all need to talk about when we get to the house.” Her son’s voice was steady and calm, yet it filled her with anxiety. “Can you have Raisa prepare one of the guest rooms?”

“One of them?”

“Yes. We’ll be there soon. Thank you, mom.” It lacked some of the warmth she might have expected. Even though her children were supposedly safe, she was just as uncertain as to what was going on as before.

“Was that Oliver?” Walter asked.

“Yes. He says Thea is with him and they’re coming home. With guests. You shouldn’t feel as though you need to greet them, Walter, you’re still recovering.”

He was already turning around to go back down the stairs. “I’ll be fine. After all, it sounds as though there’s to be a discussion of some sort. It’s been some time since I was able to participate in one of those.” His pointed gaze lingered only for a moment, and Moira closed her eyes once he looked away, the fresh guilt stabbing at her.

Oliver must have called her from the car, for it wasn’t long before their front door opened.

“Mom?” Her daughter’s voice called out first.

“In here, Thea.” Moira stood from the chair she’d placed herself in opposite Walter after her husband had chosen his own solitary seat. She met her daughter in the archway and wrapped her in a hug. “I’m so glad you’re alright. Where were you?”

“Sorry. It’s, uh, kind of a long story.”

“Well, I’m sure Oliver told you about Walter.”

Thea smiled as she went past her into the room. “I’m so glad you’re back.”

She watched Walter give a real smile as he welcomed Thea’s gentle hug. “So am I. Though truthfully, I’m not sure how it happened.”

“We know.”

Moira jumped. She hadn’t noticed her son come up behind her. “Oliver.”

He raised a hand. “Mom, before you say anything, I knew what I was doing.”

“Which was why you took Thea along as well?”

“Actually, I kind of stowed away,” her daughter admitted. “And I’m glad I did.”

Moira looked between them, then at the front door as it opened again. She gasped as Mr. Diggle led a young woman inside who she instantly recognized. She had stepped forward before she realized it. “Laurel.”

Laurel’s eyes were on Moira’s shoes rather than her face as she said a polite, “Mrs. Queen.”

Tommy and Sara Lance were the last to enter, adding to this already remarkable gathering. Oliver ushered them all into the sitting room where he shook Walter’s hand.

“Good to see Merlyn keeps his word,” Mr. Diggle muttered lowly, and Moira suppressed another jump. If her son’s bodyguard was aware of Malcolm’s role in the abduction, that could only mean…

“Mom, have a seat,” Oliver suggested. “This is going to take some time.”

“Oliver, I’m not sure that right now is the best time for a discussion.”

He didn’t miss the way she gave a significant look around at the others in their midst. “This involves everyone here.”

“Including both Miss Lances?” Walter asked.

“Yes,” Sara answered. She’d unknowingly taken Moira’s chair, and so she went to the couch with Thea and Tommy while Oliver and Mr. Diggle stood at the front of the room. Laurel had gone to stand against the wall, watching out the windows with her arms crossed. Moira wondered at the change in her; aside from the last time they’d spoken when Moira had to deliver the terrible news about the Gambit, Laurel had always seemed such a happy, bright young girl. None of that was present in her now.

Where had she gone? Had she really been missing? And what had brought her back now with Moira’s children?

“When Laurel, Tommy and I were eight years old, Mrs. Merlyn was killed,” Oliver began. She and Walter exchanged a look, but both nodded. “Afterwards he left for two years. Did he ever tell you where he was all that time?”

Moira shook her head, for it was her Oliver was looking at.

“He found himself in a place called Nanda Parbat. It’s the home of a cult which calls itself the League of Assassins.”

“Beg pardon?” Asked Walter.

“He’s telling the truth,” Mr. Diggle said. “They train and take hit jobs.”

“To rid the world of evil,” Laurel murmured at the window. There was a sardonic edge to her voice, and Moira noticed the rest of them eyeing her warily.

“After two years, Malcolm completed his training and came back here where…” Here, Oliver trailed off and took out a weathered book. Moira still recognized it.

“Where did you get a copy?” Asked Walter.

Oliver’s eyes jumped to him. “You knew about the list?”

“I found one like that, though in better condition, among Moira’s things last fall.” He was watching her now. Moira’s hands trembled.

“That’s Robert’s copy?” When her son nodded, she drew in a breath, trying to calm herself. She was beginning to see where some of this story at least might lead. “You have to understand,” she told them, looking to both of her children and Tommy as well. “When Malcolm first approached your father, he said it was about holding others in the city accountable. Getting them to give back.”

“So blackmail,” Tommy summarized bluntly.

“If you have to call it that, yes. It wasn’t until later that Malcolm changed the plan.”

“He mentioned an Undertaking,” said Oliver.

“Where is Malcolm?” Walter asked the question on her mind, but Mr. Diggle raised a hand.

“Best to do this chronologically. It only gets more complicated from here.”

“The Undertaking was Malcolm’s solution to the Glades,” Moira revealed, the words heavy on her tongue. “When he told Robert...your father was horrified. He told me everything, and I begged him to put a stop to it. But he couldn’t go to the authorities because of — well, Malcolm had information about him, too.”

“More blackmail,” muttered Tommy. His head was hanging low.

“What was his plan, Moira? At least learning it might make the weeks of captivity worth something,” Walter said, and there was hardly any mistaking the bite in his tone. She held in a sob. She’d lost him.

“It was — is — a device. He’s having it built at Unidac. Once it will be ready, he was planning to use it—” she swallowed thickly. “To level the Glades and everyone in it.”

There was a heavy silence. Laurel stepped away from the wall and moved to Oliver’s side.

“No way,” Sara breathed.

“Mom.” Thea shrunk away from her towards Tommy. “You knew about this?”

“Yes. But I- I couldn’t say anything.”

In an act of kindness, Walter spoke up. “She was afraid for you and Oliver. And me, I suppose. Malcolm had already sabotaged the Queen’s Gambit.”

“What?” Oliver and Sara both asked at the same time, their voices hoarse. Moira couldn’t look at either of them.

“Robert was going to meet with Frank’s associates in China. Neither of us knew what Malcolm was capable of back then. If we’d suspected — I never would have let him bring you along, Oliver. Either of you.”

“After Robert’s death, Malcolm pressured you to take his place in this plot, didn’t he? That’s what you meant when you said you were one of them,” her husband reminded her.

Moira nodded, her misery threatening to release if she spoke.

“Mom, the Undertaking has been stopped. Malcolm called it off,” Oliver told her.

She froze and looked up, sure she must have misunderstood. “What?”

“I made a deal with him.”

“What kind of deal?” Her worry returned tenfold. It was never safe to be in Malcolm’s debt.

Oliver frowned. He looked to Laurel, as if seeking some kind of permission. When she gave the tiniest nod, he faced Moira again. “We have to talk about what happened after the Gambit went down.”

Sara’s head lifted. “He means what happened to my family. Mom lied about where she found me. It wasn’t in some random village with no WiFi.”

Moira and Walter again exchanged puzzled looks.

“It was in Nanda Parbat.”

“The home of this...League?” Walter checked.

“Yeah. They’d found me washed up after — well, after an attempt to get home gone wrong.”

Moira thought she could tell by her son’s face that he knew already whatever it was Sara was choosing not to say. What had happened to him on that island? Those scars, how had he gotten them?

“The League chose to nurse me back to health, but in exchange I was supposed to swear my loyalty to them. To join them.”

“Good Lord,” Walter breathed. Yet Moira noticed Laurel’s lips twist into a frown.

“This was three years ago?” When the others all nodded, Moira stood up. “Laurel, what really happened?”

She caught a flash of surprise from the young woman, but her features were quickly schooled. “The League didn’t care who was sworn in as a member, just that someone of comparable age and skill was. That’s what they told… our birth mother.”

The distinction was clear. Laurel did not consider Dinah Lance her mother anymore because Dinah had — as a mother, it was unbearable to even think.

Walter had followed the conversation and sat there with horror etched on his face.

“I didn’t know how to get her back until Ollie showed up and I saw on the news how good he was,” Sara was saying. “I knew he could challenge their leader.”

“Challenge?”

“Ollie knows how to sword fight, mom,” said Thea, as if that were obvious and everyone should know it.

“Then, you’re the Hood,” said Walter.

“I am,” Oliver confirmed quietly. “When my father died, he gave me the list and asked me to right his wrongs, to bring those who were on it to justice.”

Part of Moira wanted to be angry at him and at Robert. How could Robert have put that kind of burden on their son’s shoulders? How could Oliver go out there risking his life like that when they’d only just gotten him back?

And yet, he had also clearly unraveled Malcolm’s plan for the city. There was to be no Undertaking. Walter was safe. Oliver had saved their family and the girl Moira had once hoped would become a part of that family, too.

She walked forward and cupped his cheek. “My brave boy.”

She saw the shock, disbelief and then the gratitude play out across his face. “Mom.”

Moira then turned to Laurel, wrapping her in a hug. Laurel was stiff in her hold, one arm mechanically rising to touch Moira’s back. She wondered when the last time was that the young woman had experienced this, trapped with the people who had turned Malcolm into the monster he was. However distant Laurel was now, Moira didn’t detect any of the cold malice Malcolm held.

“I’m so glad you’re home now, dear.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Queen.”

“What is still left to be done?” Walter asked. Moira pulled back, wiping at her eyes.

“Well, first I need to make a call to Unidac to cancel Malcolm’s project.” The relief that filled her at being able to make that announcement! “The rest of Tempest will follow my lead.”

She looked back at Oliver and Laurel. “Raisa prepared the room. Will you be staying with us, Laurel?”

Laurel glanced between Moira and her son, uncertain. “I haven’t decided.”

“We have to see our dad first,” said Sara, who then stood.

“Of course. I’m sure he’s been worried since the news about your disappearance came out, dear.” It worried Moira, how little Laurel seemed to be reacting to things. It reminded her of Oliver, especially when he had first come home. Perhaps it just needed time. “You’re always welcome here if you should need it.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Queen,” Laurel repeated. She exchanged a look with her sister, and the two of them left the room. She heard the front door open and shut behind them moments later.

Tommy was the next to get up. “I guess I should go see what state dad left the accounts in. Not to mention the staff.”

“What exactly has become of Malcolm?” Asked Walter.

“After I...challenged the leader of the League, they needed a new leader,” Oliver said. “Malcolm offered to take that position in exchange for your safe return.”

Walter’s lips pursed together for a moment. “I see.”

“I’ll walk you out, Tommy,” Oliver offered, and Mr. Diggle shadowed both men as they left.

“I will go unpack,” said Thea as she sidled towards the archway.

“We need to talk about your sneaking out, young lady,” Moira reminded her.

“Yeah, well we could talk about a lot of things you’ve been sneaky about too, mom,” Thea shot right back. Then she left the room. Moira sighed. She never had been able to control that girl. It had been Robert who had had a real gift with her; the irony of that had not been lost on either of them.

Silence settled in the house, and it was only her and Walter left behind. Moira readied herself before turning to face him. It was time to admit to one of her greatest transgressions.

“Walter, I- I’m so sorry.”

“Later, you said, all those weeks ago. Would you have actually told me the truth if Malcolm hadn’t interfered?”

Moira was silent. She hadn’t truly decided back then; there had been too much to worry about with Oliver’s accident, and then Walter had been ripped away from her.

He met her eyes after a few moments. “There’s a lot I have to think about, Moira. I ask that you give me space while I do so.”

Her eyes lowered to the floor. “Of course.”

Her husband stood on his own and left the room.

It seemed hardly believable that Malcolm and his plans were no longer the oppressive presence in her life that they had been for so long. And that her family now knew at the least some of her secrets.

But she had navigated far more treacherous waters. She would do everything she could to salvage the wreckage Malcolm had tried to make of her family.

---

Quentin didn’t know what to think when Dinah’s call came through in the middle of his lunch. It was rare enough that she called him to give him pause. Had something happened? Did she have some kind of news about Laurel? She’d found one of their girls, after all.

“Hello?”

“Quentin. I’m sorry to bother you. I just needed to ask —is Sara with you?”

“Sara? No, I haven’t seen her since Christmas.”

“Oh,” Dinah said, her disappointment clear.

“Are you having trouble reaching her or something?”

“Yes. She hasn’t been home in days, and when I checked her room I noticed some things missing. That’s when I thought she must have packed and gone to you to visit.”

“She’s never done that before,” he pointed out, only halfway successful at suppressing the bitterness.

“Yes, well, with the news about- about her sister, she’s been a little shaken up.”

“Sure. Well, have you tried any of her friends?”

“She doesn’t really — no one has seen her.”

Quentin frowned. He knew Sara had been struggling the last few years since she’d gotten back, but if Dinah had been about to say she didn’t have any friends, that was worrying. He should have insisted on counseling.

“Alright, keep trying her phone. I’ll ask around here.” He remembered at least a couple people who’d known Sara when she lived here. Would she have gone to stay with any of them? God, he hoped she wasn’t with Queen.

He hung up and started putting his dishes in the sink when he heard the lock in his front door being undone. Only one person besides him had the key.

“Sara?” Quentin called. He dried his hands on a towel as he walked out into the front room. “Your mother just called. She—”

The towel dropped from his hands and his words stuck in his throat. Sara stood there, a tremulous smile on her face, and next to her...he had to be seeing things.

But his eldest lifted her eyes and said, “Hi, dad.”

“Laurel.” He took a step forward, then another, and then the next thing he knew he was holding her. She stood there like a board for a long moment, then he felt her arms go around him.

“I missed you,” she murmured.

“So did I. You have no idea how much.” Even when he’d thought she had just left, his anger had in part been fueled by the terrible loneliness he’d felt. Quentin backed up, his hands on her shoulders. She looked thin to his eyes, but not in the way that Sara had become since returning. There was strength in the way she held herself, and though her voice had sounded sincere she looked completely calm. He couldn’t get a handle on it.

“Well, where- where have you been? What happened? How did you find your way home?”

Her eyes drifted somewhere over his right shoulder. “I heard you were worried, so I came back.”

Quentin stared at her. “What do you mean?”

Her shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. “It means you can stop worrying. I’m here now.”

“Yeah, but…” He struggled for words. The way she was talking, it was almost like she was saying— “You mean you weren’t missing?”

“We don’t have to talk about it.”

His mouth dropped open for a second in disbelief. “That’s where you’re mistaken, young lady, cause we do have to talk about it. I had the boys down at the station open up an investigation into you. People are gonna want answers, including me!” His voice was rising, but he couldn’t help that he had a very short supply of patience and Laurel seemed determined to test it.

“Dad—” Sara tried to step between them, but he ushered her aside.

“Now do you have an explanation for yourself?”

Laurel’s chin lifted. For a moment, he thought he saw it tremble. “I don’t have to explain anything.”

“Damnit, Laurel,” he growled, stepping forward. He raised an arm, intending to point a warning finger—

It all happened too fast for him to really process. Laurel grabbed his arm, yanked him forward and spun him back around. With a kick, he was sent staggering into the wall.

“Laurel, stop!” Sara cried.

Quentin hit it, hard. He slowly turned around, using the wall to support himself and staring in shock at his daughter. She held one hand over her mouth, her eyes full of surprise, pain and regret. Sara was holding onto her other arm.

Laurel moved her hand away and took a hesitant step forward. “Daddy, I didn’t mean — I’m sorry—”

“Don’t know why you came back,” he wheezed. “Don’t know what you want from me anymore.”

She faltered back, then tore out of Sara’s grip and left out the front door.

“Laurel!”

“Let her go, Sara,” he told his youngest as she crossed to the door.

Sara spun around, anger in her features. “It wasn’t her fault.”

“She just said she wasn’t missing!”

“She doesn’t want you to know what really happened! And the truth is, I’m scared about that, too, but please don’t blame her, dad.”

Well that about took the wind out of his sails. “I don’t- I don’t understand. Sara, you know what happened?”

Sara nodded but didn’t elaborate even when he gestured for her to go on. “I’m sorry. I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” But when she only stated at him, it hit. “Of me?”

“Not- not of you. Just... it’s better if you don’t know.”

He walked forward, a little shaky — his head was still reeling from being thrown around like that. “Honey, that’s not how this works. You two aren’t supposed to be protecting me. I’m your father.”

But the truth was, Laurel had always been trying to protect him after the Gambit went down, when she’d been here anyway. She’d protected him mostly from himself. Now there was something she and Sara were both unwilling or unable to tell him.

“Sara, where did you get into contact with her? Huh? Where did you find her?” She had to give him something.

Because it didn’t make sense for Laurel to have simply heard he’d had her declared missing causing her to decide to come home. Dinah hadn’t seen Sara in days. Either Sara had heard from Laurel and gone to meet her, or something else had happened. What, he wasn’t sure. Those missing days were crucial.

Why couldn’t he ever control his temper when he needed to? Laurel was gone again, at least for the meantime, and he had no idea if she’d come back to him this time. He hadn’t wanted it to happen like that at all, but then why was she trying to lie to him?

Quentin sighed when Sara still didn’t answer, giving up for now. “Alright, I better call your mother.”

“No!”

He stopped in his tracks at the panicked shout. “Why not?”

She seemed to realize her mistake in overreacting and her response came out considerably weaker. “Well, it- it can wait, can’t it?”

“She’s been worried about you.”

“I know, but—“ Sara looked to be struggling for something to say for several minutes. “Dad, I want to move back in with you.”

“What?” Of all the explanations, this was the last he’d have expected.

“Or back to Starling, if you don’t want me here.”

“It’s not that. I’d love for you to move in, of course. Just, why now?”

Sara shoved her hands in her pockets. He was sure she was trying to keep herself from nervously fidgeting. “Well, you’re here and Laurel’s gonna be here, too. I- I like it better here. Mom, she worries too much and she’s just been...stifling me. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to.”

“Alright, alright,” he assured her, coming forward to tuck some of her hair behind her ear and get a better look at her face. She was being totally genuine, even as he thought there was clearly something she wasn’t saying. “You’ve always been welcome here, baby, you know that.”

She took a great, shuddering breath and seemed to calm down. “Thanks, daddy. I’ll go unpack.”

“Alright. I’ll call your mother tomorrow.”

“Okay!” Sara was already running out of the front room towards the guest bedroom. Which was now her room. One of his daughters was coming back to live with him full-time. Happy as that thought made him, he looked back out the door Laurel had disappeared through. What were her plans? Did she have somewhere? Something else to try and get out of her sister.

He rubbed at his back where her boot had made contact. It wouldn’t surprise him if a bruise formed by tonight. She’d lashed out at him when he’d approached. Had she thought he would attack her? And how had she reacted so quickly and severely, like she was prepared for that kind of attack at a moment’s notice?

Every time one of his girls came home, he was left with more questions than answers. But finding answers to questions had always been what he did best. Maybe it was time to get back to it.

---

Oliver took his time getting to the base that night. For one thing, he’d needed to speak with Tommy before his old friend had left the house.

“I am sorry about lying,” he’d told him.

Tommy had glanced at him. “But you don’t regret that you did it.”

Oliver had said nothing. He didn’t regret it. Now that Tommy knew, it made him along with his family complicit in the things he had done as the Hood, both good and bad.

“What are you going to do now?” He’d asked instead.

“I don’t know. There’s a whole company dad left behind. Have to see if there’s anything I need to do about that. I guess I’ll need some time off managing the club.”

“Right.” Oliver had nearly forgotten about the recently opened Verdant in all the upheaval. “Take whatever time you need.”

“Okay.” Tommy had turned for the door. “For the record, I’m glad you’re not dead. And uh, thank you for getting Laurel back.”

“No thanks necessary.” Even if he hadn’t made the deal that had put Laurel there, Oliver would always feel some measure of responsibility. And even without that, he couldn’t have left her there regardless. The minute he had learned the truth, his thoughts had been occupied with it and nothing else.

“I was going to ask her out,” Tommy had abruptly stated. “All those years ago. The next time I saw her, I told myself.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, well, after Hong Kong and you being—” Tommy had huffed a laugh. “—‘dead’. I figured it was time for us all to move on. But her mom decided to turn psycho, so…”

A long silence had hung in the air between them. Oliver had felt Diggle’s eyes on him.

“It’s for the best.” Tommy had clapped him on the shoulder. “After everything, it really is just Ollie and Laurel, huh?”

“I think that’s about the last thing on her mind right now. I’m just going to try and do my best by her as a friend, whatever she needs.”

Tommy had swallowed once and nodded. “Yeah. Well, guess I’ll see you both around.” He’d left right after.

Oliver’s mind remained on that conversation through unpacking his things in his room, checking on the guest room Raisa had prepared and letting Digg drive them over to the club. He’d asked to go with no real reasoning for why; being in the house with his mother and Walter now with all they knew about each other out in the open didn’t sit right with him. He also wanted to be in the Glades, a way of reassuring himself that Malcolm’s plan hadn’t and would never come to fruition.

“So what’s the plan now?” His friend and bodyguard asked as they walked into the empty club. He and Tommy had closed it for the few days they’d been planning to be gone for the trip.

“What do you mean?”

Diggle gestured to the door near the back only the two of them had the code for. “I mean, what’s going to happen with the mission?”

Oliver paused. What did happen? He hadn’t been expecting to learn the secrets of the Dark Archer and the real reason for everything that had gone wrong in the city for the last five years when he’d gotten on that plane. But they had.

“The mission was the Undertaking, and the Undertaking has been stopped.”

“Thought the mission was the list.”

“So did I. But my father was trying to stop Malcolm, not this.” He looked down at the book in his hands.

“So what, all those billionaires and guns for hire and all the rest of them get to keep doing what they’ve been doing? They get a free pass?” Asked Digg.

“No. But this list is...it would take my whole life to get through it. Possibly longer.”

“That’s the thing about progress, Oliver. It’s not a one and done thing.” Diggle was disappointed in him, and he hated that feeling. Hated, too, that Diggle hardly ever tried to see things from his point of view.

“Well things are kind of busy in my life at the moment. My family, my friends—”

“Laurel?”

“Yes. They all know my secret now, John. How can I expect them to be okay with me going out there and risking my life every night?” Would Carly and AJ be happy knowing if their situations were reversed?

“What you have to ask yourself is if you’re okay not going out there when you know how much this city needs you, Oliver,” said Diggle, steady and uncompromising as always. He turned back to the door. “Let me know when you’ve thought about that.”

Oliver sighed as his friend left the club. He didn’t know if it was that easy. Yes, he cared about the city getting better, but for him to try and tackle the systemic problems Malcolm and his cohorts had left in their wake...he was just one man.

He punched in the code and descended into the base. Movement in the corner of his eyes had him reaching for the knife in his boot until his mind caught up and recognized the woman turning in her chair to face him.

“Laurel.”

“Hey.”

She’d let her hair down for the first time since they’d found her in Nanda Parbat. It brought her closer to the image he’d carried around with him for half a decade, but there was something that lingered in her eyes and the corners of her mouth that spoke of the burdens she carried. He wondered if his family and friends had thought the same about him.

Oliver looked around. “How did you…?”

“How did I know this was your secret base or how did I get in?” When he just nodded, she answered, “Thea told me about the club you and Tommy were running upstairs, which made sense as a front for a covert operation out of the Glades.”

Oliver grimaced. He didn’t begrudge Thea accidentally giving away his secrets; she had talked with Laurel for hours on that plane, likely doing a better job bridging the divide than any of them would have been able to. It ended up being a stroke of luck that she’d stowed away after all.

When he’d gone up the aisle to check on them and give Laurel the chance to change out of the League’s uniform, his sister had fallen asleep on Laurel’s shoulder, and that imagery alone had given him hope that maybe things really could go back to normal for all of them.

Which was why he winced when Laurel added, “As to how I got in, I’m a professional assassin, so.”

“Laurel, you’re not—”

“Yes, I am, Ollie. It’s what I’ve been for the last three years. I’m not sure I know how to be anything else.” She looked down. “I attacked my own father.”

Oliver crossed the room. “What happened?”

She shrugged, and he could see how helpless it was. “He got upset because I can’t tell him anything. So he got up close and I... reacted. It’s how I’ve been trained to be, and I can’t just switch it off.”

“I know.”

She met his eyes. “Yeah, I guess you would.”

There was silence as they each contemplated the things the other had gone through, how it had shaped them — perhaps irrevocably — into the people they were today.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“You already said that.”

“That was for, well, thinking I was dying,” he said. “But there is so much more I’ve done wrong by you.”

“You’ve got company,” she remarked. “And you’re not the worst offender.”

Oliver shook his head. He was not going to take the easy out. “But what I did was, I invalidated you. I cared more about what I wanted than what you needed in a partner, and I was too selfish to admit that to both of us.”

Laurel stood, never breaking eye contact. “Well, thank you. And I can see how much you’ve changed. The boy who didn’t care about my feelings never would’ve flown to the Himalayas to challenge a near-immortal monster for my freedom.”

It was strange. Almost anyone who compared the him that had returned from the island to what he’d been before did so unfavorably. Himself included, often enough. Yet Laurel saw something worth more than he’d been before. She saw something good.

Maybe because she had to, to see something good in herself.

“If I’d been better, before…”

“Please don’t try to take responsibility for anyone else’s wrongs. I’ve placed the blame exactly where it belongs, and that’s my right,” she told him, a stubborn line to her shoulders that, he was happy to note, was not League-trained at all; that had always been a part of her. She must have noticed the twitch of his lips, for she tilted her head. “Was there something funny about that?”

“No, not really,” he replied. “It’s just, I’ve missed you. The real you.” He’d seen her in his dreams and hallucinations over the years, but nothing could compare to the whole of her. That probably wasn’t welcome territory at the moment, so instead he asked, “What brought you down here, anyway?”

“Curiosity,” she told him, and he nodded. “And I wanted to know if you were still looking for teammates.”

That had him looking up in surprise. “What?”

She took a folded piece of paper out of the pocket of her leather jacket. It took Oliver a second to recognize it as one of the Help Wanted posters Tommy had pinned up outside the club. “You want to work at a nightclub? What about law school?”

She shrugged. “Considering the amount of laws I’ve broken the last three years, I don’t think it’s the best career path for me anymore.”

“Right,” he agreed, trying his best not to show the regret he was feeling. Laurel had wanted so badly to help people with the law. To see that she felt herself incapable or unworthy of that anymore cut at something deep inside him. He knew she didn’t blame him for this, but a part of him couldn’t help wondering about what could have been.

“Did the League have bartending lessons?” He asked, trying to lighten things. He thought he saw the hints of that old wry fondness she’d often regarded him with. Oliver licked his lips, the fingers of his right hand curling and uncurling.

“They taught me how to make and administer poisons. And their antidotes,” she added helpfully. “But it says you need a bouncer.”

“Uh…” He couldn’t help it. As a frequent attendee of clubs in the past, he had a very clear picture in his head of what a bouncer looked like: Diggle. It was wrong. He didn’t need to see her frown to know that. “Sorry, I guess I just — you want to be in charge of a line of rowdy, possibly already drunk people and deal with security problems or break up fights? After what happened at your father’s?”

“I have to know that I’m the one in control,” she said. “I’ve been given these skills and a purpose to fight, Oliver. And to kill. That’s something I can never take back. But maybe, by putting those skills towards keeping others safe, trying to help out, I could...I could use it for real good.”

It had come out as almost a question, and he could see the desperation in her eyes. A need that reached down to his core and found an echoing cry.

He didn’t have to think about it anymore. If they could take the weapons that their bodies had been forged into and reshape them, be the shield or sword that others needed, then all that pain and that damage might have been worth it.

For a moment, he let himself imagine if Laurel had asked him what he’d initially thought before she’d produced the Help Wanted poster. If it were more than just him out there fighting against the institutions poisoning their city, if they could work as a team...but they weren’t a team. He’d betrayed that trust years ago, and it would take time to get that back even if he had fought for her freedom. And it would have to be something Laurel wanted, too.

For now, he could answer this request. “Consider yourself hired.”

She smiled. Not a full one, just the lips, but it seemed to brighten the whole base. After a moment, she ducked her head, as if afraid to let him or anyone see it.

“I hate to bring up money right away, but I stopped at the bank before coming here. I still have my account, but it’s not in the best shape. I’m not sure what I can really afford on my own.”

“There’s a room for you at the house, if you need it,” he reminded her. He was sure if Quentin Lance had been seriously hurt, Laurel wouldn’t be here right now, but he also doubted she felt very welcome in her father’s home.

“At least for now. Your family’s going through a lot. You shouldn’t have to worry about anyone else,” she said. “I just don’t have enough for rent right now.”

“Which isn’t your fault. Stay with us as long as you need to. Till you can get back on your feet. We’ll find you something.” For the meantime, he offered his arm. “Come on, let’s go home.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to call Starling that again, Ollie,” Laurel admitted. But after a brief hesitation, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.

“Take as long as you need,” he repeated. Whatever Laurel needed, he would give it to her. Lord knew she deserved it after they had all failed her in their own ways.

His father’s mission was over. This was his mission now, to protect his city and his loved ones. To right his own wrongs.

---

Laurel stood at the large window of her second-story room, watching the comings and goings of some of the staff below. The house was surrounded on three sides by expansive grounds leading to trees; not a secure position for them at all.

She hated that these were the things that came immediately to mind. That the bed, which years ago had seemed a luxury to her, now felt too soft, too inviting. It all just didn’t feel real.

How could she be in this place of peace and acceptance, where people openly showed care for each other, where they used her name? It was like something out of her dreams from the early nights of her time in Nanda Parbat. It was overwhelming. Oliver most of all.

She knew how life could change a person. She was the proof of that firsthand, and it scared her. Did he really care for her or just the woman he hoped she still could be? And was there anything left of the man he’d been, flawed as he was yet nevertheless her first love? Or were they both strangers trying to fit into a life that wasn’t theirs anymore?

Sara seemed just as ill-suited to her life since returning home. Laurel didn’t know much; they hadn’t really spoken on the ride over to their father’s, just a question about how he had been and the answer that he had lost his job — that hurt, knowing she should have been there, should have helped him see his way through his anger and grief better. How much worse it would get if he knew all the things she’d done.

Laurel didn’t know if she would see Sara again. Would she just go back to Dinah? It would be easier if she did, easier for Laurel to just keep hating them both. Because the longer that she looked at Sara’s thin, fragile form, the harder it became to hold onto that hate.

As angry as she wanted to be at her younger sister, as much as she knew it was her very right, she could see Sara hadn’t escaped from her time as a castaway unscathed. Laurel remembered her mother’s excuses, that Sara had been assaulted by men. It turned her stomach when she allowed herself to think about it. Had she gotten help? Did she have someone to talk to about any of it?

Laurel also knew, however, she was not prepared to be that person. Not in this moment and perhaps not ever. The betrayal was still raw, even after all these years. Seeing everyone from her old life again had dragged all of those memories and feelings back up to the surface. It was clouding her thinking and her judgement.

It was why Laurel had asked for work that kept her within earshot of Oliver’s mission. Apart from needing an income, she felt it might best ground her in this daydream her life had suddenly turned into. Keeping her mind and reflexes sharp in case her fortunes turned again.

She couldn’t help smirking to herself. It was Nyssa’s voice she thought of saying those words. It brought an ache to her chest, wondering where her friend was and if she’d ever forgive her. She’d done what she’d thought best at the time, but now she wasn’t sure.

Laurel hadn’t really known the truth of what Malcolm Merlyn was capable of until Mrs. Queen had explained in halting, haunting detail. To know he was now in charge of the League chilled her bones. Ra’s had been a terror to behold, but had he merely been replaced with a worse evil?

The others wouldn’t want her to worry about that. They believed Malcolm to be many miles away and no longer a concern of theirs. They didn’t know how far the League reached. They just wanted her to be happy and free. A task she wasn’t sure she was up to.

A soft knock at her door had her turning sharply on her heels, moving into a defensive posture.

Oliver’s head poked inside. “Hey. Sorry, I just wanted to let you know dinner’s just about on the table. Raisa says it’s all your favorites.”

“Oh.” Laurel straightened back up. She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear to avoid looking at him straight on. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “Was that, um, The Beatles you were humming? I thought I heard a little bit, wasn’t trying to eavesdrop,” he added when she blinked at him.

“Yeah, I, um, got into the habit, I guess. Didn’t realize I was doing it.” She came around the bed and followed him out into the hall. “It might’ve been The Beatles. They had a song called ‘Blackbird’.”

She didn’t miss the long look he gave her. “Yeah? I remembered the tune, not so much what it’s about.”

Laurel shrugged. “It’s just a guy singing. You know, about broken wings and learning to fly again. To be free.”

“And how does it end?”

They both paused at the top of the stairs. Laurel turned and faced him fully.

“I don’t know.”

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #blackbird

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angelofrainfrogs · 4 years

Text

Flashes of the Past

Fandom: The Bartimaeus Sequence

Pairing: None

Description: Tired of the constant visits to Earth after helping Nathaniel successfully thwart the Golem rampaging through London, Bartimaeus finally decides to give the boy a piece of his mind. However, when he finds Nathaniel in a surprising state, unexpected memories begin to surface... memories of a former master who was also a kid in way over his head.

This story was written for the 2019 Bartimaeus Zine, Millennia. Check it out here: https://tbtfanzine.tumblr.com/post/189856191281/millennia-a-bartimaeus-sequence-fanzine

Rating: G

Genre: Humor

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22022725

Flashes of the Past

Another master, another mission, another countless number of months on Earth. So is my life, century after century. I’m not sure why I thought this time would be different, but for whatever reason… I did[1].

The kid was smart, definitely, but also young- and that meant he was easily influenced by his peers[2]. He’d already had some of that haughty British magician air the first time he’d summoned me a few years ago, but I could see that he wasn’t totally corrupt yet. He was certainly getting there, though. The arrogance seeped further into him each day, and it most clearly presented itself in the type of missions he sent me on.

At first, they were standard- protect him during an important party, watch over his room as he slept, deliver a secret message only one person is meant to see. As the months went on, however, the tasks began to change. It was no longer “pick up this secret relic for Internal Affairs,” but “go pick up some crisps from the shop while I do some paperwork.”

Honestly, I was getting a little put-out.

It was during one such task that I resolved to give the boy a piece of my mind once I got back to him. I’d been sent to buy some lunch[3] and was expected back within the hour. I wasn’t worried about being a little late, though; since I knew the boy’s birth name, his “punishments” were mostly empty threats[4]. Although, based on his increasing paranoia and twitchiness, I wondered if they were going to stay that way.

Finally, I made it to the counter and ordered, adding an extra special topping much to the horror of the cashier- hopefully, a preview of Nathaniel’s future reaction. As usual, the boy was very careful to give me very clear, explicit instructions, but I was still the best at finding loopholes. In this case, he’d told me what type of sandwich he wanted and “not to put anything else on it that he didn’t like.” As unconventional as my final choice of topping was, I knew for a fact that the boy liked it, so therefore I was technically in the clear.

I left the shop and turned into a crow at my first opportunity, the foil-wrapped sandwich clutched in my claws. My disguise was so good that to my mild annoyance, a few other crows thought I was bringing them a fresh meal and tried to snatch the sandwich from me mid-flight. I scared them off with a loud caw that shook the windows on a nearby house and was left alone for the remainder of my trip.

When I arrived at Nathaniel’s room, I found the window shut- odd, since he always kept it open for me when I went out to retrieve food. I threw the sandwich into the air and skillfully caught it in my beak, then landed on the windowsill and peered in, checking the area on all planes just to be safe. I couldn’t sense anything amiss on planes two through seven, but on the first is where I saw Nathaniel, sitting on the bed with his knees curled up to his chest. His ridiculously tight coat was thrown haphazardly on the floor- the first sign that something was wrong[5].

I tapped on the glass with my beak and the boy jerked so violently he nearly fell off the bed. I tilted my head questioningly, watching him with a beady black eye. I saw the recognition[6] wash over his face as he looked from my current form to the sandwich. Slowly, as if in a daze, he got off the bed and walked to the window. He unlatched the bolt and, after looking all around as if someone were waiting to strike him down the second his focus wavered, he opened the window just enough for me to squeeze through.

In one singular motion, I dropped the sandwich onto his desk and shifted into Ptolemy’s form, forgoing the usual Egyptian garb in favor of the modern outfit I wore when blending in with the humans. I turned back to Nathaniel to see him muttering and gesturing at the now-locked window, and a few seconds later a green nexus appeared on the third plane, providing another layer of protection to seal off the room from the outside world. The boy turned around, noticed me casually leaning against the desk, and nearly jumped out of his skin for the second time.

“My oh my, Natty boy, what’s gotten into you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as the boy pressed a hand over his heart as if the gesture would help calm his rapid pulse. “You’re so… jumpy.”

The boy glared at me, which at least showed that he was thinking clearer. He didn’t respond for a few seconds, looking as though he was deciding whether to actually tell me anything- an important choice to make. The more information he gave me, the more I could potentially use against him, and vice versa. This is one of the many reasons why magicians didn’t tend to be friendly with the spirits they enslaved[7].

Eventually, Nathaniel cleared his throat and explained, staring at the floor, “While you were gone, I decided to go for a walk in the nearby park and while I was there… an attempt was made on my life.”

My eyes widened. “What?!”

“You heard me.” Nathaniel snapped his gaze to mine, eyes still narrowed with both anger and residual fear.

“I meant ‘what’ as in ‘what a bold thing to do, in broad daylight with a bunch of potential witnesses,’” I clarified, and the boy’s glare deepened. Well, that certainly explained his previous curled-up position and the locked window. “What happened, did someone throw an elemental sphere at you? Try and drop a rock on your head from the roof?”

“No.” Nathaniel sighed, looking at the floor again. “Something attacked me that wasn’t visible on the first three planes- I don’t know what it was, before you ask, obviously I couldn’t see it. I barely made it back inside before a blast almost hit me.” He wrapped his arms around himself, shivering despite the cozy warmth of the bedroom.

I stared at him, finding myself unable to shoot back a witty retort. The expression on his face was just so… vulnerable. At that moment, he looked every bit the scrawny, inexperienced child he truly was. As much as he pretended to be one of the self-important government magicians, in reality he was just a fourteen-year-old boy way out of his league.

“Why didn’t you summon me?” I asked, curious. Usually, when a magician is under attack their first response is to summon the most powerful spirit under their command- which in this case was me, of course.

Nathaniel blinked at me as if I’d slapped him across the face. “I… didn’t think of it.”

“Well, did you at least shoot back a counter-spell and give the guy a run for his money?”

“Er… no.”

“Wait- you got attacked and just hid in your room?!” The expression on my face twisted into one of disbelief. The kid was brilliant and had been in much more perilous situations than what he’d just described; I couldn’t understand why his first instinct had been to shut himself in his room and hope no one would find him.

“I locked the door and windows!” Nathaniel said defensively, still clutching his arms around himself. “And I put a protective spell on the door. I just… I don’t know. It didn’t occur to me to summon you. Or try to fight back. I just wanted to get away.”

“Your mistake,” I said with a shrug. And then, a thought occurred to me, a slow smile spreading across my face. “You know, if you didn’t send me out to do frivolous things like get you sandwiches, I’d already be around if something like this happens again… which it definitely will.”

I expected the boy to agree, maybe with a bit of fussing, but eventually realizing that my logic was infallible. However, Nathaniel didn’t seem to hear me. He’d begun to shiver again, eyes unfocused, presumably reliving the many times that he’d almost met an unfortunate end at the hands of powers beyond his control.

With a sigh, I picked up the sandwich and threw it, catching it in my hand.

“Hey,” I said, and when the boy looked at me, I lodged the sandwich directly at his face. He instinctively smacked it away just before it hit him square in the nose, to my dismay[8]. It made a light squelching sound as it landed on the floor. “Look, Nat, I’m sure you know this, but a magician’s life is full of paranoia. At least with me, you know what you’re dealing with. How about we make a new deal?”

“I’m not about to make deals with you, Bartimaeus, especially without a pentacle to bind the agreement,” the boy quipped, a bit of his usual pompousness returning.

“Relax, it’s for both our benefits!” I flashed a grin. “How’s about you stop sending me out to buy you lunch, and then I’ll be nearby the next time someone tries to take your head off; sound good?”

His jaw clenched at the mention of another threat to his life, but he tried his best to hide the fear, pushing it back down beneath the cold façade all government magicians wear. He thought for a moment, presumably trying to figure out what sort of trick I was playing, before giving a resigned sigh.

“Alright, fine; you can stay by my side, at least for a little bit,” he relented.

“Gee, you make it sound so wonderful,” I said with a roll of my eyes. The point wasn’t to be glued to him at the hip, the point was not to be sent on tasks such as acquiring food… but I could tell the boy was still too shaken up to understand my logic[9]. I gestured to the now-slightly-squished sandwich. “Eat that; part of your shock is probably because you skipped breakfast again. Hey, don’t glare at me when I speak the truth!”

The boy pursed his lips, obviously holding back a retort, but amazingly listened to my suggestion and reached down to pick up the sandwich. He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, slowly unwrapping the tin foil. He paused mid-action of bringing the sandwich up to his mouth.

“…This is what the rest of my life is going to be like, isn’t it?” he asked to no one in particular, voice soft and trembling.

“I’ve already said yes,” I said, feeling it was as though it was my duty to respond[10].

“Just waiting for the next attack… always on edge… Is this what it’s going to be like forever?” He looked at me then, eyes wide and questioning as though I had all the answers, and suddenly I wasn’t looking at Nathaniel anymore.

The boy in front of me was one I’d known years ago, a boy full of optimism and love and trust, and who, on rare occasions, would forget his true self and ask me the same thing:

“Will it always be like this?” He wondered, his frail body more prone to weariness than ever. “Will I always be wondering when the next attack will come? Will I never know peace again?”

“It will never be easy,” I responded, gently placing a hand on his head, and to an outsider it looked like the Royal Vizier giving his young master some comfort. To the both of us, however, it was something much more. “But you can know peace, because I will be by your side always.”

He smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. “Thank you, Rekhyt.”

I blinked, and Nathaniel was in front of me once more.

“Oh, I don’t know why I bother asking you these stupid questions,” he was saying, a bit of color returning to his cheeks. He seemed to be coming back to himself, realizing his moment of weakness[11].

I closed my eyes, willing myself back to the present; now was not the time to reminisce. The boy in front of me was not Ptolemy and never would be. They were completely different in every way.

And yet, deep down, there was something in Nathaniel that brought back flashes of memories just like this. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it left my mind fuzzy. I shook my head and refocused on Nathaniel just in time to see him finally take a bite of the sandwich in his hands. He chewed absently for a few seconds, before his face scrunched up in disgust and he spat the chewed-up mound onto the floor- and, conveniently, right onto his fancy coat.

“Ugh! What is… is there banana on here?!” he exclaimed, turning to me with eyes full of fire. My lips curled up in a toothy smile and the responding expression on his face fully snapped me into the present[12].

“You told me not to put anything you didn’t like on it,” I responded with a shrug. “You often eat a banana for an afternoon snack, so I thought I’d save you the trouble and combine the two meals.”

“That’s disgusting!”

I put a hand to my heart, looking offended. “I was being thoughtful!”

“You were not, you conniving demon!”

“Now, now, no need for the insults, Nat-”

“And it’s gotten all over my coat, oh no…”

“Hey, that was your fault.” The boy glared daggers at me. “You should watch where you spew your food.”

“Ugh, I’m never sending you to the chip shop again,” he huffed, wrapping the remainder of the sandwich back up. He made to put it in the trash bin, then after a split-second’s thought promptly turned and threw it directly at me.

I caught it skillfully in my hand with a laugh and flashed him another grin. That deal worked just fine for me.

***

[1] Maybe it was my unbridled optimism, or maybe it was just the nagging feeling in the back of my mind that the boy still had some semblance of good left in him. Either way, a stupid notion on my part.

[2] This influence was already in full effect, if his stunningly bad fashion choices were anything to go by.

[3] A tuna sandwich this time, with an array of toppings that we’ll come back to later on.

[4] He had tried a few magical attacks on occasion, the most notable being a few weeks earlier, in which he sent a bolt of crippling fire my way. I swiftly returned the spell with a whisper of his name, which the boy unfortunately dodged and caused a small fire on his nightstand. He promptly had a panic attack and frantically doused the fire before it could spread, and since then he hasn’t tried anything else magically-inclined to harass me.

[5] On one memorable occasion a few days after buying the stupidly expensive coat, I’d seen the boy use himself as a human umbrella and shield the garment rather than let it get a smidge of rainwater on it, so seeing it on the chalk-dusted floor was mildly alarming.

[6] And was that a hint of relief? Surely, I was misinterpreting his pathetic expression.

[7] That and, well, the whole “enslavement against our will” thing in general tends to put a damper on potential friendships before they can begin.

[8] Although I was admittedly impressed by the maneuver; it was reminiscent of an ancient karate move I’d seen during one of my stints in Asia a few centuries ago.

[9] Really, the ideal situation was that I could be released to the Other Place and never have to set eyes on that pitiful face again, but based on the recent pattern of events, I knew that any reprieve I got would be brief until the boy was no longer able to summon me… which, most likely, would be when he met his ultimate fate- a scenario which probably wouldn’t happen for quite a long time, knowing the boy’s annoying knack for staying alive.

[10] Rhetorical question or not, I didn’t want to boy to feel ashamed for talking to himself. Besides, I’m always up for giving helpful advice when I can.

[11] In front of a djnni, of all creatures; I’m sure he was equal parts terrified and embarrassed- well, probably more embarrassed, knowing I could pull this memory out at any time when he needed to be put in his place.

[12] It was a familiar look of contempt and exasperation- an expression that I’d seen many magicians sport over the years, but Nathaniel’s face seemed built just for it.

#bartimaeus #the bartimaeus trilogy #the bartimaeus sequence #bartimaeus fanzine #bartimaeus fanzine millennia #millennia #fanfic #fanfiction #humor #nathaniel #ptolemy #flashes of the past #the golem's eye #ptolemy's gate #phantomhivemast3r #midna3452 #ao3

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