#too much time spent resource gathering and building when you need to be out preparing and socializing

[sprucewoodmpreg]

im not even a desertduo guy but monopoly mountain was so good. i understand why we don't really get anyone doing massive fleshed-out builds anymore, but man i really miss having such dramatic monuments for each team

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (March 14/2021) -     The Plan

Tommy tells Tubbo and Ranboo about his plan to kill Dream and they establish a space to stake out the prison. 

While they plot, though, an old friend makes his return!

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Tubbo

Tommy

Ranboo

Captain Puffy

Eret

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- Tommy walks over to look at the prison. He has a plan to kill Dream.

- He briefly greets Sam Nook and shelters him from the rain

- First, he heads over to Snowchester to explain to Tubbo and Ranboo what’s gong on. He makes it there and looks in the mansion. Foolish sees him, having thought he was dead.

- Tubbo and Ranboo come over and explain the manor house. To discuss business, they go to the execution room.

- Tommy asks Tubbo about getting married without him. Then Tommy opens up to Ranboo about feeling lonely about Ranboo stealing his best friend.

- He then tells the both of them that he died in prison and Dream is planning on breaking out. When he was dead, he spoke to Schlatt and Wilbur. Tubbo asks if Schlatt’s changed his ways.

- Tommy explains that time passes faster in death.

- Someone made an explosion on the top of the prison, Technoblade owes Dream a favor and might be a problem, Tommy wants to stake out the prison.

- Tubbo asks why it’s different now. Why didn’t they just kill him to begin with? Tommy tells Tubbo that he’s only planning on reviving Wilbur. The revive book wouldn’t be used for good.

- Ranboo agrees with Tommy. Tubbo asks why they wouldn’t want to revive Wilbur — Tommy tells them that Wilbur’s different now and can’t be let back. Tubbo still has doubts about the plan.

- They decide to make a space near the prison to observe.

- Tubbo leads them to his detective room

- Tommy tells them that Sam has failed his job and went against his orders to not let anybody else visit. Ranboo and Tubbo ask who else has visited since — Tommy doesn’t know.

- Tubbo shows him the evidence.

- They go back to Tommy’s house and Tommy reads Puffy’s message.

- The Egg comes up in conversation. Ranboo thinks it’ll solve itself.

- They go into the Nether to gather resources

- They spot Punz on top of the Eggpire meeting room and briefly speak with him. Ghostbur also shows up.

- Tommy asks if Ghostbur remembers him being dead and speaking with him. Ghostbur says the last time he spoke with Tommy was a couple days ago.

- Tommy asks about Wilbur, not Ghostbur. Ghostbur’s been away, he doesn’t remember.

- Ghostbur points out how everything is red. He likes it, red’s a good color. Like blue but wrong.

- Tommy asks Ghostbur if he wants Wilbur to come back.

  Ghostbur: “The world needs structure and order, and he was good at that.” Tommy: “The world needs less villains, and he was a villain if I’ve ever seen one.” Ghostbur: “Sometime’s the line’s a little blurry… A villain is just a hero you haven’t convinced yet.”

Tommy: “No, but he started as a hero, and then he was the villain. I don’t think we should bring him back ever.”

- Ghostbur loves being able to walk around, he loves being able to touch things

- Tommy tells Ghostbur that he spent months with Wilbur, and Wilbur can’t come back. Ghostbur asks about the time conversion in Limbo.

Apparently in the afterlife, Wilbur spent a month explaining hemorrhoids 

- They show Ghostbur the prison

- Ghostbur asks why Tommy doesn’t want Wilbur back again. Tommy says when they were trying to bring him back, he still thought there was some “brotherness” there

- Ghostbur points out he spent a lot of time with Schlatt, and Schlatt’s “the bad guy.” Schlatt and Eret.

- They say there are a lot of other bad guys out there, like Dream. Ghostbur says Dream was nice to him, though.

- They ask about Tubbo and Ranboo’s marriage (they got married for tax reasons initially) and they also bring up Michael.

- They introduce Ghostbur to Michael.

- Eret points out that he tried to revive Wilbur a while ago in chat. Ghostbur doesn’t remember.

- They head to the McPuffy’s and encounter Connor on the Prime Path. He gives Ghostbur his stabbin’ knife back. Ghostbur asks if Connor has his Chekhov’s Gun.

- They introduce Ghostbur to Sam Nook

- Sam Nook tells Tommy that Awesam gave him specific orders to keep Tommy away from the prison for his own safety. He says he might have to report this to Awesam, and he won’t be pleased.

- They continue building the tower

- Ranboo tells Ghostbur he hasn’t seen him in a while. Ghostbur’s been sleeping. The resurrection was stressful — he got a glimpse of the other side. He’s back because Tommy needed him, and he heard it through the grapevine.

- Ghostbur asks why they’re trying to break into the prison again. Ranboo explains that they need to kill Dream, or else a lot of bad things — even things Tommy doesn’t know about — might happen.

- Ghostbur says that Dream was a bad guy, but then they were friends. Ranboo explains that Dream tends to manipulate to gain power, and they need to get rid of him because he still has power.

- Ghostbur asks what the worst he could do is — Ranboo says he could bring back the “villains” in this story.

Schlatt? Mexican Dream? 

- Ghostbur asks if bringing back Wilbur is off the table. Ghostbur is scared. Not scared of Wilbur, but scared of going back to nothing. He likes being here.

- Ranboo never knew Wilbur, only Ghostbur. But it seems like Ghostbur is Wilbur’s good intentions.

- Ghostbur’s read Wilbur’s memoirs (though they’re destroyed now), and explains that Wilbur started out with good intentions.

Ghostbur: “Now more than ever, I think it’s really important we have a leader.”

- Ghostbur is willing to help, whether that means keeping Ghostbur or bringing back Wilbur. Ranboo doesn’t know what would be best, though.

Ghostbur: “History is written by the winners.” Ranboo: “Yeah, and he…technically won.” Ghostbur: “But he lost, everyone hates him.” Ranboo: “I don’t think that everyone hates him. I don’t really hate him, I mean it’s like hearing about a historical figure.”

- Ghostbur leaves to get snacks, leaving Ranboo to ponder. Tubbo never told him much about Wilbur. He doesn’t know — he doesn’t think they need a leader.

Ranboo: “Because if someone rules everyone, then when the leader becomes corrupted, then — well, we see what happens.”

- He doesn’t think anyone really wants Wilbur back, so why is it even a question? All they know is that they have to kill Dream. The only person who might want Wilbur back would be Phil.

- If they can get rid of Dream, then everything will be good! If Dream comes out of prison, the voice might come back too. And the one thing Dream will want is revenge against the people who put him in the prison in the first place.

- Ranboo needs to be involved and not stand idly by. As the person with three lives, he has the upper hand.

- Ghostbur returns with snacks! He also gives Ranboo some blue

- Ranboo goes back to his house and looks at his vault, where he has an extra set of maxed Netherite armor. The others need new sets prepared.

- Puffy sees the Red Banquet decorations being set up in the Egg Room

- As she walks around on the surface, she talks about how Tommy is making an effort to better himself with therapy

- She’s heard a rumor today about her “duckling,” Dream — that people are plotting to kill him. 

- Dream has done wrong, she says,

“But, more than anything else…murder…is not a proper consequence to another murder. Two wrongs don’t make a right. And although I’m not a Dream apologist — believe me I hold him more accountable than most — there’s a reason that I haven’t visited him. And…it’s because I don’t think, right now, he deserves it. But…as much as he’s wronged Tommy, as much as maybe Tommy thinks this will help him in the long run, in some way, shape or form…I think it’s gonna hurt Tommy more than anything. I think, ultimately, Tommy’s gonna feel guilty for this and we don’t — I don’t know how he’s gonna handle it! I don’t know if Tommy’s meant to be the one to go through something like this again, even if it results in Dream’s death.”

“See…the thing about morals is, everybody has different ones.”

- She says Dream needs to pay, and the walls of the prison aren’t secure enough to contain his chaos. She doesn’t think it’s as impenetrable as Sam says it is.

- Dream is stuck in prison, but he’s still the topic of discussion on everyone’s minds — which Puffy sees as the jail not doing its job.

- Everybody has now seen how they’ve reacted to Tommy’s death, including the people who didn’t care, and they now have to come to terms with that.

“More than just therapy is coming to the Dream SMP."

Upcoming Events:

- Quackity’s business opening

- The Red Banquet

- Eret’s lore stream

END OF WEEK RECAP:

3/8 - Ponk’s preparations, Michelle is brought to Snowchester

3/9 - Ponk’s last warning to Foolish, Hannah gets trapped with the Egg

3/10 - The Eggpire’s attack on the Temple, Sam rescues Hannah

3/11 - Nothing much happens

3/12 - Tommy exits Pandora’s Vault

3/13 - Nothing much happens

3/14 - Tommy plans to kill Dream, Ghostbur returns

[comehomeducklings]

Past [Part 2] (Obsession)

A/N: Some chapters will be named with either “Past,” “Present,” or “Future,” then their numbered part coming right after it. This is to confuse you less when flashbacks or anything happens. As you have probably noticed, it says “Past” for Part 2. This is going back near when Tom and her just met. Thank you for reading! <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

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1940 - 3rd year

“Potions is not that bad, I swear. You just have to be good at measuring.”

At the table, my friends and I are discussing our classes this year. Potions being one of my favorite topics. Devyn absolutely loathes that certain class. We have to drag her there to make sure she doesn’t skip. Poor girl tries her best to not mess up but the cauldron always ends up blowing up. I even watched her do every step once, never missing a beat. The potion still ended up failing, even though she did everything correctly. She gave up after a while, who wouldn’t. I help her do extra assignments for extra credit to keep her grade up. She also studies with me to make sure she can memorize everything and pass her tests. Amelia is pretty good at the class, she’s luckily paired with Devyn most of the time. Carrying the potion to success, with a little bit of my secret help. It’s not cheating, it’s using your resources.

I’m resources.

“Potions is not that bad,” Devyn mocks me. “If it weren’t for you two I would have gone insane in that stupid class.”

Amelia just laughs at her while eating her hash browns on the plate. She reaches her hand out to take some more eggs.

“You were able to do it before. Not the way you were supposed to, but it worked,” Amelia says.

“Exactly, just start doing it your way at this point. I don’t think Slughorn will care how it’s done, just how it comes out.”

Devyn nods her head and points at me with a fork. Her mouth full of food so she settles for that response. My plate doesn’t have much other than some bacon and fruit. I’m not usually a breakfast eater. I get my appetite at lunch and dinner time. It’s just too early for a bunch of food smells, the smells make me kind of nauseous. I’ll eat though, enough to hold me off till lunch.

The chatter in the lunchroom rises by the minute. Everyone refilling themselves before their busy day. All energy levels rising while everyone wakes up from their groggy morning mood. While my friends finish eating we continue to talk about our classes and share the schedules for this year. Most classes we had were the same except for our electives. I tried taking as many electives as possible. My family back home never really did magic. I actually came a year and a half late since my family wanted me to have a normal school experience. I learned to do everything without the use of magic, the only thing my mom taught me was the floo network, creatures, and plants. I would often accompany her to Diagon Alley when she shops. I got an Owl for my 10th birthday. A cat would have been amazing if I wasn’t allergic to it. My owl is a brown and white-furred barn owl. Don’t ask me why I named it Bartholomew. I was ten okay, give me a break. Speaking of the floo network, my mom had to chase me through it quite often because I kept teleporting everywhere. I once ran into the Ministry of Magic’s building and got lost. They had to take me home to my parents. Their faces told me everything I needed to know about the punishment waiting for me.

Halfway through the second year is when I came to Hogwarts, a second letter coming that year asking my parents to let me learn more there. So when they finally let me attend, everything was pretty new to me. My mother was the magic one in the family. Her grandmother, my great-grandmother, before her had the magic gene. Going to school was the same experience as going from a muggle-borns perspective. The difference is, I knew more about its existence. I would look at yearbooks my mom had from when she went here. She earned a lot of titles, all the achievements being recorded down. I always wondered why she never wanted me to come here. Did something happen to me, to her? I’m guessing she just wanted a normal life with dad. He has always supported her through everything. A love, a bond like that is hard to come by. He would also learn about magic right next to me. At least, the stuff my mom allowed to let us know.

That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, of what’s available. Why learn math in the muggle world when I could be learning divination. Spells of all types, potions for everything of inconvenience. My chores could be completed with just a flick of my wand. I’ve lately been learning wandless magic, on my own. Albus has helped by providing me with material to study that type of magic. The only thing I’ve managed so far is a spark coming from the tips of my fingertips. Sparking hope that I could actually, maybe, achieve that level. Now I won't get my hopes up, but that can lead me to a certain advantage in dueling. That being one of my weakest skills. Always panicking, saying any spells that pop up in my mind, and making random movements coming from my wand. Often confusing who I’m up against, although they recover from that confusion fairly quickly.

Riddle, met him once. One too many if you would ask me. I dissuade ever wanting to speak to him. Arrogance and pride flow through his tongue like second nature. I do take pride in succeeding above him in 3 classes. He is 2 classes above me but, that’s not the point. I do admit, he’s attractive. Only a little though, how else would he charm his way through the professors and students.

“Alright, I’m ready to go. You guys done?”

“Yeah,” I say. Devyn and I start leaving our seats and heading towards the huge doors.

Amelia hurried from her seat, a few steps behind since she took some fruit with her to eat on the way. More and more students also started making their way towards the first period. Not wanting to be blamed for the loss of house points. This system causes so many fights, everyone’s competitive side getting the best of their common sense. I would be lying if I said it didn’t get the best of me before. Amelia being her usual bubbly self skips backward while chatting with us. Before we could warn her to stop, she pushes someone ahead of her. Both falling down, hitting the floor. She spins her head extremely quickly, her hair sticking in her mouth from the force of the wind.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she explains. Quickly trying to digest her situation. I make my way towards her and pull her up. I fix her robe and dust off any dirt on the cloth from the floor.

“Clearly idiot, can you not use those bug eyes of yours to see?”

Devyn and I make eye contact. We understand that there are witnesses here, and one of them is bound to snitch on us if we fight. A huge scene would probably make Amelia feel even more embarrassed as well. Instead, I guided Amelia by her back. We continue on to class while I comfort her. Devyn is staying back to “talk” to the guy. Lestrange is in for it now, any poor soul would be when in the fiery path of her anger.

Devyn’s loud yells could still be slightly heard when entering the potions classroom. First class of the year, and day. On Slughorn’s table, I can see a vial with the wideye potion contained inside. I set Devyn’s textbook on her station, turning to the page that contains information on the potion. Hoping to save her confusion and time.

“Welcome, welcome! Nice to see some old faces, and new ones,” he says with the biggest grin on his face. “Today we’ll be learning about the Wideye potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

I quickly raise my hand, rather eager. I did some reading about a lot of potions during the summer. Trying to get a headstart on my studies. This potion being one of them. Only 3 students raised their hand, one of them being me. The other, well, Riddle.

“Yes, go ahead and answer,” the professor looks my way.

I smile, “The wideye potion prevents the person consuming the liquid the ability to fall asleep. Which is often used in the medical field to wake someone from a sleep caused by a blunt force or drug.”

“Precisely! 10 points.”

I look back rather smugly at Riddle, rather happy I got chosen instead of him. I know, he could have easily answered that too. I’ll let myself bask in the small achievement for now. 30 minutes of class is just spent writing down notes, preparing us for the potion we will make. Note-taking is my favorite, especially the little doodles I get to make. We use a feather instead of the regular pen. I found it rather amusing and liked the certain feeling of writing with it. The dipping noise that the point of the feather makes when hitting the liquid ink is a very profound sound. No real writer’s bump forming on my fingers.

“That’s enough writing, I need you all to prepare your cauldron, gather the materials you need, and start your potion. If done correctly, tomorrow when we add the finishing touches and check on it the potion should be a blue/green color,” Slughorn comments. “You have 10 minutes to study your notes, then the rest of the class to make your potion. No looking back at your notes after those ten minutes.”

After scanning my notes, I stand up and walk towards the ingredients on the shelves. If I remember correctly my potion requires snake fangs, standard ingredient, and wolfsbane. I gather all that in my hand and set it down near my cauldron. Before I start, I take a moment. I’m missing something, I’m sure there was another ingredient.

Wolfsbane, check.

Snake fangs, six of them.

I have the measures of Standard ingredient.

There’s one more, I try to look around the room. Then I remember that we get an automatic failing grade if caught cheating. There’s no way I’ll let my grade drop like that. Over something so small and inconvenient too. Making my way to the shelves, I scan over the ingredients over and over again. Trying to see if any of the names pop out to me.

No.

Definitely not.

That’s an ingredient?

I don’t even want to know how that one was obtained.

This one, of course it’s this one. I even remember putting a star next to the name in my notebook. Dried Billwig stings, I believe six of them were needed. All that time wasted. Hurrying to my seat I get to work. The time goes by quickly, all that could be heard was the sizzling and whooshing of our potions. I almost knocked down my vials a couple of times. Someone actually did, their time spent on cleaning the glass off the floor. After heating the first three ingredients, I crush them together in the mortar. Then stir clockwise from what I recall, three times specifically. Finally, I wave my wand over then leave it to brew.

Just in time from the looks of it. I glance at Devyn to see how it went for her, and she looks pretty proud of herself. I take that as a blessing that it didn’t blow up this time of round. I’m guessing she took our advice and did it her own way.

A student raises his hand, “May we leave?”

“Oh yes yes, go ahead. No assignments for the first day, only the potion you made in class.”

Before I leave the classroom I examine Riddle’s station. He already left the room. His potion looks similar to how mine turned out, his workspace thoroughly cleaned. Everything used properly placed back to where it should be. Perfectly spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. All done without magic too, surprising for someone born into the wizarding world. When I mentioned that I met him once, it wasn’t much of anything. The only way I know how he really acts is through other people. Much admire his intelligence and strong will. Others are jealous of the potential he holds for the future.

Girls are already trying to slip love potions into his drinks. I would feel bad if he wasn’t so rude to them. Only just before touching the disrespectful line. He almost drank one of their attempts before. Wouldn’t want to imagine how that turned out. Tom riddle, in love. That man probably doesn’t know the feeling of happiness, let alone love. I feel bad for his future girlfriend, she’s going to have to deal with a handful of baggage.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“How much do you want to bet Nott will demolish him?” A Gryffindor girl to my left whispers.

Nott, part of Riddle’s group from what I’ve seen. They all eat lunch together and talk to one another so it’s a reasonable guess. Very talented duellist, one of the bests here.

“I hate to admit it, but he’ll definitely win this. I’ll still have hope for the other guy though,” I whisper back trying not to sound mean.

Nott and the other Slytherin boy are up right now. It’s a courtesy for the audience to stay quiet until someone casts the first attack or defense. From then on all you will hear is shouting of encouragement and the opposite. Nott’s eyes are focused, zoning in on the opponent before him. His wand is steady, mouth slightly parted to breathe through better. Whole-body alert and tense waiting for something. From what I'm getting, I believe he’s waiting for the Slytherin boy to go first. Nott casts spells quickly and thinks them through decently. Sometimes you're not able to create a counter-spell quick enough to defend yourself against him.

Riddle’s group and himself are near the corner of the platform. All seemingly analyzing every breath he inhales and exhales. I finally hear the whoosh of a wand and a whiz of light fly past the platform. The glow from the spell lighting our faces for a millisecond. Nott quickly counters that spell and moves to cast his own. Magic flies across the platform, all of our eyes going back and forth like a ping-pong match. The Slytherin boy starts breaking a sweat. He’s only been able to get a couple of offensive spells in there, most of his plays spent throwing off Nott’s. If he doesn’t turn the battle soon, the outcome will become very clear.

It is a little less exciting since we only know a handful of spells. So whatever you know from your own studies you use in these duels. When we move up the years the class will become more serious and dangerous. Right now it’s just to teach us how to counter and cast quickly. The proper etiquette and movement. You use spells that you know, they aren’t supposed to harm someone. Either stun them, make them fly back, or disarm. Most of those spells require a little of a higher level, most of us not even knowing of its existence yet. So what’s mostly cast between competitors is a basic spell to exert force. That force should be aimed for the legs, or the wand to disarm that way. The way someone can win here is to make their knees or hands touch the floor, or disarm their wand. As I mentioned, it will get more intense as time goes by. We're only just starting 3rd year right now, a lot more charms will be learned later on.

I shake my head to get rid of any lingering thoughts. My attention goes right back to the duel taking place in front of me. Nott quickly aims a spell at the knees and manages to bring the other boy to his knees.

“Mr. Nott wins this duel! Please step off the platform, we will evaluate your performance.”

During the practice duels today, you watch it, think of ways to help the person improve, and point out things they might have done wrong. At the end, the professor picks people raising their hands to allow them to give their feedback. Participating is part of the grade you get in here. I personally prefer giving feedback then dueling. I’m not the best at casting, I do give out good defense spells though. That should mean something, I hope.

“Let’s start with Nott, does anyone have feedback for him?”

A couple of people spread apart raised their hands. One by one they all ask questions and give feedback. They mention his feet and posture when he stands. Arms fully stretched out where it would have been more flexible to bend it slightly. When he casts he shouldn’t be walking backward. They shortly switch to the other boy’s questions and feedback. The way he never gave himself the opening to cast an offensive spell often. He would move around his area a lot. Almost slipping off the stage during one of those movements. Tom and his group privately discussed with one another. They’re probably giving Nott their own feedback and suggestions privately.

“Now, Riddle I want you to come up and…,” he scans the room for another student. After some time he points his finger at me. “You.”

I could have had a smooth sailing class. I was so close to not having to go up there. My hands start sweating a bit, my anxiety jumbling my thoughts together. Riddle’s already up there and soon to be on his side of the platform. Taking his wand out and wandering his fingers over the design. I gulp, a big toad stuck in my throat. I wipe my hands on my robe and start up the stairs. Riddle seems as unbothered as ever. We bow, turn, then walk ten paces back. During this time I try predicting who will cast first. I don’t know him very well, I’ve also never seen him duel.

I take my dueling stance and wait for the signal to start. Hoping, praying, that I don’t embarrass myself. Slipping up is not allowed, not when going against him.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Taglist:

@empath-bunny

[marjansmarwani]

all the difference in the world 

2.7k || ao3

Carlos and his partner Mya respond to the hostage situation call. --- A 2x05 coda (a.k.a if the writers won’t give Carlos scenes, I will.)

This was mostly written out of spite. Mostly beta’d by @officereyes, but any errors in the part I added after are on me and me alone. 

---------

“I’m just saying, I can’t believe you didn’t invite me to the roller derby.” 

“I’m sorry, I had no idea it would be your thing,” Carlos shot back defensively. 

His partner turned to look at him for the briefest of moments with an entirely unimpressed expression, “It’s badass women on roller skates, Reyes. What exactly about that sounds like ‘not my thing’?” 

Carlos rolled his eyes. “I’ll be sure to invite you next time, Esquilin,” he promised, “as long as you don’t mind hanging out with TK’s crew.” 

“I think the badass women on roller skates can balance out the company of firefighters,” she quipped, shooting Carlos a grin, “probably.” 

He rolled his eyes again, but his retort was interrupted when their radio sounded from the dashboard, “Be advised, all units: Code 3 at 235 Heyward St, unit 3F. Hostage situation, suspect is armed and dangerous.” 

Carlos shot Mya a look and she nodded, flipping on the lights and sirens as she took the next left, bringing them closer to the emergency in progress. 

“Dispatch, this is 363-H-20, responding. ETA 8 minutes,” he announced into the radio before replacing it on the dashboard, a grim set to his mouth as he stared out the window at the houses they sped by. 

“I hate domestic calls,” Mya eventually said into the silence and Carlos nodded grimly. They had both seen calls like this end badly, and he knew they were both desperately hoping to never have to see that again. “Where did they say she was?” 

“Third floor.” He glanced at his partner to see her biting her lip as she considered, “Why?” 

“I’m just trying to figure out how we can possibly get up there without tipping him off. Dispatch said he was armed, we don’t want him spooked. That’s not going to end well for anyone, especially not her.” 

Carlos nodded, trying to focus on the problem rather than the possible disastrous outcomes. He and Mya had responded to a similar call almost two years ago now and that one had not ended happily. It was one of his experiences on the force that had affected him most and one he still thought about from time to time, especially on bad days. But it was also an experience that didn’t help them now. If they wanted to make sure that didn’t happen again he needed to focus on the now. 

Which was all well and good, but he didn’t know they were supposed to get a victim out of a third-floor apartment before they breached without anyone getting caught in a crossfire. They didn’t have the time, resources, or training to scale the building to approach that way. The only way in was the stairs and the door. 

He looked over at Mya who met his gaze with an equally frustrated expression. Clearly, she had not come up with any brilliant ideas either. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. It’s not that he thought he and Mya were incapable of coming up with creative solutions. But after spending so much time about the 126 he had a new standard for “creative,” and honestly he could use some of that insanity he witnessed on a regular basis right now. 

“We just need a way to get her out,” Mya said eventually as they drew closer to their destination, “once she is safe we can handle the guy. I just don’t want to risk her getting caught in a possible crossfire.” 

Carlos nodded and opened his mouth to ask his partner if she had any brilliant ideas to make that happen when he froze, a half-formed thought popping into his head. Without saying a word to Mya he reached for the radio again, switching it on to call dispatch: “Dispatch, are there any available fire units in the area of the Code 3?” 

“The 226 is in the vicinity and available.” 

Carlos glanced over at Mya, who had pulled her eyes off the road long enough to give him a baffled look. He smiled at her before he spoke into the radio again, “Dispatch, can they respond to the address in question and deploy the rescue cushion?” 

He saw the dawning realization on his partner’s face as he waited. She beamed at him even as the voice of the dispatch supervisor sounded over the radio, “Affirmative, 363-H-20. The 226 is en route and will have the rescue cushion deployed in time for your ETA.” 

“10-4 dispatch, we’re about 4 minutes out now.” 

He replaced the radio and turned to look at his partner, who shot him a knowing grin, “Only someone who has spent a little too much time around firefighters could come up with an idea as crazy as that.” 

He scoffed at her, “Crazy enough that it might just work, you mean.” 

She shook her head, still grinning, and Carlos sighed and leaned back in his seat, grin fading. “I hope it does work,” he admitted more somberly. “I don’t want this to be a repeat of…” 

“There’s no point in thinking like that,” Mya interrupted sharply, “that was a long time ago. And there’s no saying this is going to turn out the same way. Not if we have any say in it. We’re already in better shape than we were then. We’re not going to make the same mistakes.”

Carlos nodded tightly and they continued their ride in silence. He knew Mya was right and that they had prepared in every possible way. They had done all they could, but there were still so many variables. There always were. Working with people in crisis was never an exact science and there was always a chance that nothing went according to plan. 

They arrived at the scene and Carlos was out of the vehicle before Mya had even brought it to a complete stop, rushing over to the team unfurling the rescue cushion. The captain looked up as Carlos approached, “We’re just about ready to give the go-ahead,” he called, “we’re all set on our end!”

Carlos nodded gratefully and turned on his heel, meeting Mya’s eyes and jerking his head towards the building. She followed without question, waving for the other officers who had just arrived to follow them. They headed up the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible and Carlos did his best to avoid the creeping feeling of dread. He knew they had done everything they could, but that didn’t stop the fear that it might somehow still end in tragedy.

They had just approached the last flight of stairs when the scream ripped through the air. They froze as one, all waiting to hear the outcome. Carlos was nearly toppled by the relief of hearing the voices of the firefighters drifting up, assuring her that she was safe now. He could feel Mya’s hand on his arm and glanced over his shoulder to give her a quick smile. The victim was safe. From here, it was all simple. 

He gave a nod to the other officers gathered behind him and they resumed their journey upwards, entering the hallway and barreling through the door. The man spun to face them from the railing, a look of shock covering his features. Carlos held his gaze as he ordered him to put his hands up, and he saw the moment he made a decision. Dispatch had mentioned that this was his third strike; he knew there was no happy ending in this for him. 

He lunged for the gun in the same moment that Carlos thrust himself fully into the room, grabbing him before he could achieve his goal, stopping his hands mere millimeters from the gun. He could feel the collective sigh of relief from his fellow officers, as well as his partner’s gaze on the back of his neck. He ignored it, for the moment, as he wrestled the man’s arms behind his back, slapping the cuffs on him as he read him his rights. He stood then, pulling the suspect up with him as Mya stepped further into the room. She glanced over at the two officers behind them before addressing the pair: “We’ll take this loser down and get him to the station, can you two do a quick sweep and make sure all’s good here?” 

They nodded and Mya gave them a quick thanks before taking the suspect from Carlos and guiding him towards the stairs. Carlos gave his own thanks to the other two officers and quickly followed. He could tell his partner had something on her mind, but he also knew she wouldn’t say anything about it until they had the suspect safely secured in the back of their squad car. They descended the stairs in silence before eventually exiting the building back into the parking lot where the 226 was in the process of packing up the rescue cushion and the victim was getting checked out by the paramedics. 

Upon seeing his ex their cuffed suspect made to lunge in her direction but Carlos stepped between them, blocking his line of sight and staring down at him coldly, “Don’t even think about it.” 

He deflated and Mya scoffed as she pulled him in the direction of the squad car, opening the door and guiding him inside without a word. Once the door was closed behind him she turned to face Carlos, eyebrows raised and an unimpressed look on her face, “You wanna talk about what happened up there?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we got the guy.” 

“Yes, we did. After you threw yourself in between him and his gun and our guns too, I might add.”

“Mya…” he began, but she held up her hand to stop him. 

“I’m not trying to scold you, Carlos, especially because I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing. I’m just asking you to be a little bit more careful, okay? We take enough risks as it is, you really don’t need to go out of your way to create more. I kind of like you as a partner so I would appreciate it if you could manage to not get yourself shot if you don’t mind.” 

“Aw, you do care.” 

“I will deny that in a court of law,” she countered without missing a beat. 

He grinned at her and she sighed before shaking her head and walking back around to the driver’s side. “Just remember I’m not going to be the one to tell your boyfriend you got yourself shot,” she called over her shoulder, “so maybe avoid that if at all possible.” 

He chuckled, but her words also ignited a hint of anxiety in his chest. He had followed his instincts and he didn’t regret it, but now that the adrenaline was gone and he had the advantage of hindsight he could see how badly that could have gone. But he also knew that dwelling on it would accomplish nothing. He had spent a career trusting his instincts and he knew that was the best way to approach this. He knew that trusting himself was the best chance he had. 

That didn’t lessen the risks and the fact that he had so much more to lose now than he ever had before.  

As he opened the passenger door he glanced across the scene to see the woman sitting in the back of the ambulance, talking to another officer who was taking her statement. Her expression of relief was evident even from this distance, and Carlos smiled. This reality was better than any of the anxieties running through his head and he would focus on that. Today had been a win. They didn’t always get those, Carlos knew that all too well. They had to take the successes they could get, and savor those. Focusing on what-ifs never helped anybody. 

Today they had won and the would-be victim had her life back. Today they had managed to get the ex before the worst had happened and that made all the difference in the world. 

--------

Carlos looked up as his front door swung open, a smile spreading across his face when he saw his boyfriend and Paul crossing the threshold. TK met his eyes and matched his smile as he crossed the room towards him, “Hey, babe.” 

Carlos met him at the edge of the counter, pulling him into a kiss that lingered. When they finally pulled apart, he grinned at TK, “Hey yourself.” He looked over TK’s shoulder to Paul, “Hi Paul.” 

“What, no kiss for me Reyes?” 

Carlos rolled his eyes fondly as TK chuckled, setting the grocery bags he had brought on the counter to start unloading them. Carlos grabbed some of the groceries from him, stealing another quick kiss in the process before he glanced between the two firefighters, “No Mateo and Marjan tonight?”

“They’ll be here,” Paul explained, “they’re just handling a situation right now.” 

Carlos raised an eyebrow, “That sounds like a story.” 

“It is,” TK confirmed as he put the last of the groceries into the fridge, closing it behind him, “and we’ll tell you as soon as you tell me what you might know about the 226 having to deploy a rescue cushion under a third-floor balcony at the request of APD.” 

Carlos smiled sheepishly, “You heard about that, huh?” 

“Austin’s a small town, Carlos,” TK reminded him with a sly grin, “and the fire department is even smaller. There’s not much I don’t hear about.”

Carlos looked past TK to Paul who raised an eyebrow, settling onto the couch to watch them, “We’ll tell you ours after you tell us yours.”

Carlos made a face at him before turning back to meet TK’s expectant gaze, “It was nothing major. There was a hostage situation in a third-floor apartment and we just needed to make sure that she was safely out of the line of fire before we went to take down the guy.” 

TK moved closer to him, wrapping his arms around Carlos as he peered up into his eyes, “It sounds pretty major to me. Your idea probably saved her life, Carlos. She’s safe because of you.” 

Carlos shrugged self-consciously, “I wouldn’t say that. Grace did most of the work, figuring it all out and keeping her on the line.”

TK shook his head and removed one of his hands from Carlos’s waist to turn his face so their gazes met, “Grace is brilliant and certainly deserves a lot of credit, but you had a hand in it too babe, don’t sell yourself short.” 

Carlos studied TK’s eyes. They were sincere and full of love; so much it nearly overwhelmed him. His boyfriend meant every word he had said, and he was not about to let Carlos get away with arguing. The amount of faith TK had in him staggered him sometimes. He let himself smile and gave TK a nod. At his nod TK smiled wider, leaning in for another kiss before stepping away. 

Paul chuckled from the couch, “I’ve gotta hand it to you Carlos, that was pretty crafty. It definitely worked but it was also a little crazy. Almost like something a certain someone else I know might have tried.” 

Both Carlos and Paul’s gazes turned to TK, who looked at them indignantly, “What?” he demanded, but Paul just laughed. 

“I think he might be rubbing off on you,” he informed Carlos with a raised eyebrow. 

Carlos huffed a laugh in return but reached out an arm to wind around TK’s shoulders and pull him closer, placing a kiss on the inside of his neck. “Maybe,” he admitted, “but who’s to say that’s a bad thing?” 

Paul rolled his eyes and TK smiled smugly, twisting in Carlos’s grasp to face him, leaning forward to give him another kiss. When he pulled away his expression grew more serious as he studied Carlos’s expression intently. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, “I know how you feel about domestic calls.” 

Carlos pulled him closer again, placing a light kiss on the top of his head, “I’m okay,” he assured him with a certainty that almost surprised him, “really.” 

TK grinned at him and Carlos smiled back, looking up and meeting Paul’s gaze as well and giving him a reassuring nod. Of course he was fine; he had everything he could possibly ever need right here in his arms. He was fine because despite it all today had been a good day, but he also because knew that even if it hadn’t been, he had a second family now and they would catch him should he fall.

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 2

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink, alcohol, loneliness

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Merry Christmas, everyone! Here’s a little gift from me to you 😌 I hope you like it! Let me know what you think in the comments below.

8 years later

Winter in DC was too cold. It had reached that time of year when the roads turned icy at the slightest humidity in the air, and it had already snowed at least twice since December began. Thankfully, the snow didn’t stick around very long; FBI agents were on-call 24/7. A double-edged sword, really. On one hand, it meant work was a great way to avoid problems. It was easier to forget. On the other hand, well, it was work.

“Six years in this city and it’s still so fucking cold,” Erin muttered to herself, shivering as her car warmed up. She buried her face into the scarf wrapped around her neck, trying to warm up. The warmth from the heated steering wheel seeped into her fingers, soothing the ache in her joints. She was supposed to meet Sachi at the bar for drinks. It had become a regular event in her weekly life; one night a week to go out and relax.

Some would’ve said that her promotion meant she could take more time off. That she could delegate a little more and take on a lighter workload as a result. But as a supervisor for the Operational Technologies branch, she had all the more reason to work more. Well, that’s what she convinced herself, at least.

Her friend and coworker, Sachi, was already seated at a table by the time she arrived. The bar was pretty busy, busier than the week before. It made sense; the holidays were always a time for friends and family to catch up on each other’s lives.

“Hi! Sorry I’m late, a meeting went overtime and I ran into some traffic on the way here,” Erin apologized, draping her wool coat over the back of her seat and sitting down. The next article to be shed was her scarf, which she kept piled on her lap. “Were you waiting long?”

“No, no worries,” her friend answered, shrugging. “I just got this table a couple minutes ago. Happy hour seems extra popular this week. How was the meeting?”

She rolled her eyes. “The usual; operations found some bugs in the new software and had some suggestions, so half of the developers will be working on that while the rest continue building our newest tool. How did your day go?”

“It was so slow, I don’t know which politician decided to choose yesterday to fuck up, but there were files everywhere,” Sachi groaned, rubbing her forehead tiredly. Her eyes landed on the sparkling gem on Erin’s hand. “I do have a question for you, though: why do you wear that ring?”

She raised a dark brow, then followed her line of sight to her hand. “Oh, this? It’s….it’s just something to keep the men away, that’s all. You know how they are.”

A curious head tilt. “I do, but are you sure that’s what you want? You deserve to find someone who makes you happy, Rin.”

Erin gave her a tight-lipped smile, twisting the metal band around her finger. It was a recent purchase; a gift to herself. A promise. A promise to remember. Even if he wasn’t hers to remember, at the end of the day.

“Is this still about that Marcus Pike guy?” Sachi asked, her voice softening as Erin avoided looking up. She reached across the table and covered her hand with hers. The glittering band of her own wedding ring seemed to mock her. “It’s been seven years since he went missing, Rin. You searched for him yourself; he’s gone.”

The news had broken just before Erin arrived in DC. Marcus Pike had gone missing, and there seemed to be no trace of him. His last known address was empty, his file had been wiped from all government databases, even his social media accounts were nonexistent.

One of the first things she did after her promotion was asking for a search squad. His number was still in her phone, but the number was no longer receiving calls. Even his email seemed to be deactivated, but it had existed before. There should’ve been a digital trail. It didn’t matter to her that it had been months since he was last seen–he was her best friend, and she wasn’t going to give up on him that easily.

Juggling her work with the investigation took its toll on her. Sleep eluded her, so she upped her coffee intake and spent countless hours off the clock. As a result, exhaustion settled in mid-day. Her work grew sloppy, obvious problems going untended and creating delays in operations.

The head of the department shut down her search after a year. He had cited it being a “waste of resources.” Maybe it was, to them. For such a large bureau with so many applicants, there was bound to be a replacement for Agent Pike. But even so, no one could replace Marcus.

“I know,” she replied softly. “I know. I’m trying, it’s just...I’ve spent years working for the FBI, and every time I stop to check the time, it’s like months have passed. And you know how my last relationship ended.”

She had been seeing a guy working for a tech startup, and at first it was great. The late nights and morning texts had been enough. But as time went on, and she became more immersed in her work following the election, her boyfriend grew restless. He wanted his girlfriend at home with him, preparing dinner and asking him about his day at the startup. Then he started the accusations. He accused her of cheating, of rubbing her success in his face.

Everything he said was false, but she had given up on trying to convince him. So she gave him a choice. He could leave if he wanted to, and there would be no hard feelings, just incompatibility. Or, he could stay, and she’d try to make more time for him. He chose the former.

“Oh come on,” Sachi reasoned, tapping the back of her hand. “You’re beautiful, smart, can kick ass. There has to be someone who’s into that.”

“Maybe,” Erin shrugged. Once upon a time, she had hoped she would meet someone like that. And in a way, she had. But at the end of the day,  she was a coward. She was a coward, and she paid the price for it.

They always said that time was money. In her case, the price she paid was high.

Sachi’s eyes lit up. “You know what? Why don’t you come to a holiday party I’m hosting? Maybe you’ll meet someone there.”

“Who’s going?”

“Some of our coworkers, some of my friends, and their friends, potentially,” she listed off, waving off her concern. “Nothing very special, in my opinion.”

A party would be nice. If not for the company, then for the food; and if not the food, then the drinks. Yes, the drinks. Drinks were good.

Erin conceded with a nervous grin. “Alright, but no meddling!”

“Yay!” she squealed. Then, her expression turned serious again. She pointed at the ring. “But whatever you do, don’t wear that.”

---

Sachi’s house looked like it was out of a movie. Tall and sparkling with lights, her home was the textbook picture of a family Christmas. There was even a wreath on the front door and a wooden sign with drawn-on snowflakes that welcomed the party guests.

The foyer was lined with emerald garlands and shimmering fairy lights, leading her further in towards the kitchen. From giant gold ornaments to wooden figurines, it seemed as if she had thought of everything.

When she reached the kitchen, there were already some guests gathered around the kitchen island. Platters of sweets and charcuterie boards were spread over the marble countertop, glistening in the soft light. The guests grazed from small plates as they greeted each other and raved about how great it was to finally catch up.

Perhaps she’d host her own holiday party someday. When she had the space, of course. The apartment that she’d chosen wasn’t the best for groups, and she wanted enough surface area for decorations. Her string of lights and small tree at home paled in comparison to the giant tree in Sachi’s living room.

The invite had specified a semi-formal dress code, so she chose a black off-the-shoulder dress that reached her knees. She paired it with some black heels and a white blazer draped over her shoulders for warmth. It wasn’t much, but it would do.

“Erin!” Sachi squealed, coming over to give her a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. You’re right on time. Everyone else should be arriving soon.” She shooed her away. “Go have fun! And if you need a wingwoman, I’ve got your back.”

Erin shivered as Sachi swept off her jacket, the cool air brushing against her shoulders. Nevertheless, she smiled. “Thanks.”

“Of course!” she replied. The next thing she knew, a glass of champagne was tucked into her hand. “Now go!”

What Sachi had failed to tell her, though, was that she was going to be one of the only singles in the entire house.

Wherever she turned, she found couples congregated into circles where they could discuss...whatever couples discussed. Not wanting to barge in as a third, fifth, or seventh wheel, she stuck close to  the perimeter of the room.

Thankfully, she found an acquaintance from work who had also come to the party alone.

“Waiting for someone?” Ashley asked, sipping from a half-empty glass of wine. She was one of the receptionists for the technologies department. They’d spoken a couple times, but never much more than professional talk.

Erin shook her head and finished her third glass of champagne. Maybe she’d try the moscato next, just to change things up a little. The whole point of attending the party was to relax, right? So, she was trying to relax. “Just trying to loosen up. It’s been a while since I’ve gone to a party.” A soft laugh. “I can see why people like bringing a friend along. It would help a lot.”

“Why didn’t you, then?” At the lack of response, she sighed. “Is work still taking up a lot of time? You know you can take more time off.”

Yes, she knew. She’d heard it nearly a thousand times already. She knew she could take time off just like she knew she could forget about her past and move on. Part of her wanted to change, to move on as if nothing had happened. But after years of the same routine, and the same decisions coming back to bite her, it was hard to change.

“I know,” Erin replied, pressing a hand against her forehead. It was hotter than normal–did Sachi turn up the heating? She silently cursed her genetics; she’d probably have a fever later that night. “But as you know, there’s always more work to do. I signed up for this, so I need to do my job.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t rest,” she reasoned, nudging her arm. “Are you still leading the search for that guy? Marcus Pike? I remember you were pretty involved with that.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the alcohol. She gripped the glass a bit tighter. Her voice was clipped as she said, “No, I’m not. The search squad was disbanded years ago. We spent a year searching for him and there was nothing. There was nothing.” She swayed as she stood up, but quickly regained her balance. “I’m gonna….get another drink. Is there anything you want me to bring?”

“No thanks,” Ashley replied. Watching as Erin stumbled, she asked, “Are you sure you want another drink? Maybe you should take a break first.”

She waved her off. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just the shoes.”

Yeah, right.

Erin’s turn around the corner was much too sharp, and her sluggish mind barely seemed to register the fact that she collided with a broad chest. Strong arms came up around her, holding her in place so she didn’t fall over. They were warm. Before she could stop herself, she splayed her hands on their chest, brows furrowed. What did Sachi put in there?

Then, she looked up and met the person’s eyes. Dark brown ones, to be exact. With a depth and sparkle that she hadn’t seen since Austin. Softly, she said, “M-Marcus?”

The man’s lips parting in shock. As Erin’s slightly-blurred gaze drifted down to his mouth, she frowned. No, it couldn’t be her Marcus; her Marcus didn’t have facial hair, nor did he wear glasses. He was handsome, though–just as handsome. And he was strong–she felt safer in his arms than she had in years.

“H-how do you know my name?”

His voice was similar, too, though a bit raspier.

She blinked. Then, it dawned on her; it wasn’t a dream. She really was at a party, in a dress pressed up against a very good-looking man who looked vaguely like her late best friend. It felt as if she had jumped into the snow without clothes on. She blushed and flinched away from him–as if she needed to be even redder–and said, “Sorry, you just look a bit like an old friend of mine. His name was also Marcus.”

It was her, Marcus realized. He would have recognized her voice anywhere, and when she looked up at him with those dark, green-flecked eyes, his years in Texas came rushing back to him. Part of him didn’t want to believe it. What was she doing in DC? And what were the chances that they’d meet again, with his changed identity?

Even so, she was as beautiful as he remembered, her smooth black hair styled into shining waves and her full lips painted a muted pink. In their time as friends, he rarely saw Erin out of her work clothes; a side effect of working for the FBI. Seeing her in a dress, and up close, against his chest felt like a dream. A dream that had plagued his mind for nearly a decade.

At the same time, she looked different. There was an air of exhaustion that clung to her just as tightly as her authority. Her eyes didn’t have the same bright sparkle that she had on her first day. He wondered if her smile was the same, and if she still took her coffee with two sugars and a splash of cream. If she still collected houseplants as if they were pets. If she was still the Erin he remembered.

The tugging in his chest pulled him towards her, and the old whisper of Marcus Pike urged him to tell the truth. To drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. To tell her that he was sorry for leaving her, for dismissing her concerns about Lisbon. For disappearing without a trace. But Marcus Moreno, his new identity, his new life, knew it wouldn’t be fair to her.

So he introduced himself. A wave of relief washed over him as Erin giggled softly and shook his hand, telling him her name.

He’d missed her laugh, and the way the corners of her eyes crinkled just slightly when she was happy. He missed everything. He missed her.

“So,” she began, swaying a little. Her last drink was finally kicking in. Her brows furrowed in concentration. “How do you know, uh, Sachi?”

The little furrow of her brows was still adorable; he knew it only showed when she was thinking really hard. He just hoped she would remember their interaction in the morning. She rarely drank enough to get drunk, not wanting to bother with her body’s violent reaction to alcohol. Or so she told him.

“I’m a friend of her husband,” he replied, touching her arm softly as she swayed again. “Do you…do you want to sit down for a bit? We can keep talking, I just want to make sure you don’t get hurt.”

Erin hummed softly and nodded. “Yes, but don’t worry, I can handle a little fall.”

“I don’t doubt you can, Miss FBI.” Realizing his mistake, he cringed. So much for trying to have a fresh start. He guided her over to the table and pulled out a chair for her, making sure she was comfortable before sitting down in the seat next to her.

She frowned. “How do you know I work for the FBI?”

A pause. Then, he answered, “I overheard Sachi talking about you. You two seem to be pretty close.”

Drumming her fingertips on the table, she answered, “I guess so, yeah. She was one of my first friends after I moved here six years ago.” Her eyes glazed over with a tinge of sadness. “Time seems to be flying by very fast these days.”

Marcus sighed softly. “Yeah.” He offered her a smile that made her heart flutter. Or maybe that was just her stomach?  “I guess it’s up to us to make the most out of it, right?”

She nodded. Propping her head up against her hand, she replied, “Definitely. So, tell me about yourself, Marcus Moreno. I think you mentioned a daughter?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Missy. If there was anything he didn’t regret in the past few years, it was meeting his late wife and raising his baby. But the story of his wife could come later; for now, he wanted to tell his best friend about his little girl.

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[seokiloquy]

Sniff - Kuroo & Kozume

AU: Werewolf (with hardly any werewolf content, I’m sorry)

Requested (I may have changed it a bit, oops)

Word Count: 2.1k+

Miyagi prefecture was home to many subsidiary pack groups that often were at odd ends with each other. Other prefectures had more balance, forming alliances and annual gatherings to share resources and information. Tokyo was a good example of such, though there were smaller groups that covered less ground, they had a balance. Miyagi did not. Though you were never at the forefront of the various battles that happened between the packs, typically spending your time working on the gardening side of things (which had its own conflicts), you often watched from the sidelines as the various hunters and athletes competed against each other. Training, practicing, getting stronger.

Shiratorizawa was at the top of the food chain in Miyagi, they had the strongest hunters and the largest pack. Aoba Johsai was a rising opponent but never quite made it to the top. Other groups often watched the competitors duke it out when they crossed paths, practice or otherwise. Karasuno, your home base, was small. Most of the buildings in the surrounding area were short and the ground was great for harvesting. Other packs came to your home in need of rice or other vegetables. It had been years since Karasuno was seen as a pack with a fighting chance in the annual trials. The generation that had been known to be award-winning athletes had now grown out of their peak metabolic state, moving on to join the workforce. Very few continued in their sport.

Your family was the head of harvesting. Your father worked with roots and your mother took charge of the pickings, and in your free moments outside of school, you worked in the rice fields. Breaking your back (and others) to gather all the grain when you weren’t learning through the day. 

It was crunch time this year. By some odd chance, three of your town’s teams had made it to the national tournament, beating out the arguably stronger teams of Aoba Johsai and Shiratorizawa. Because of this, you (and everyone else in the community that weren’t part of the training teams) had to gather as many resources as possible to award the winning communities in their respective fields at the end of the tournament. 

Everything hurts your brain nowadays. This time of the year was a drag. Despite being happy about your pack’s success, you desperately wished that only one team had succeeded. Now, you had to gather three times more rice than you normally did. 

Sadly, Karasuno never qualified for any of the traditional competitions. Hunting, tracking, and speed wasn’t in high demand for a mostly harvest based group. It was the new age games that Karasuno managed to succeed in. Soccer -just like every year-, Tennis, and Volleyball. The latter two were the surprising wins.

“(L/N), do you want a hand with that?” Yoshida was in his final year of participating in these games but as a member of the pack’s soccer team, the two of you had gotten to know each other over years of competition.

You gladly handed over the large wicker basket that held the harvested paddies, “Thanks.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you this year, don’t you?” the dark-haired player asked rhetorically.

You sighed, “I still have to mill every grain,” you sniffed, “You know what, give that back.”

“Huh? Why?” he asked, handing the large basket back.

“Oujiyama.”

Without warning, besides the brief name you had given, the tennis captain railed into the side of the soccer player, tackling him down. The large wolf easily shifted into his normal form, laughing at the startled man below him. Yoshida growled, easily retaliating and turned the quaffed hair of Oujiyama into a bird’s nest. Bouncing the wicker basket in your arms, you sighed and left the two competing wolves to wrestle in the dirt.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you two were alpha’s fighting for a mate’s attention.”

Oujiyama was the first to recover from the tussle on the ground, brushing off the dirt from his shoulders, “I am an alpha!”

Yoshida, a beta, took the comment as a compliment. He started skipping to catch up to you.

“Maybe, but I know better. Your guys’ egos are just massive.”

Yoshida stopped skipping and swiped the basket from you with a pout.

The three of you travelled to the outer edge of Karasuno’s community, where a small truck was parked. Yoshida dropped the basket in the back along with all of the other containers of food and draped the tarp over it all. 

“Are you guys heading in early?”

Nodding, you tied the blue tarp down to the edges of the truck. “Ya, we have to finish preparing the rice and help set everything up before all the packs show up.” You let out a whining breath, “It’s too much work. Luckily others from other packs will be there to help and the teams that are already in Tokyo will be helping too.”

With the help of some of the other paddy workers across Tokyo, you managed to mill all of the rice that had been brought in three days. Those days were spent waking up before the hunters came back from their treks at dawn, and working on your knees until long after the sun had set. Now your muscles hurt, your nose was stuffed and you desperately wanted some tea.

Stupid sniffer.

“(Y/N), you’re off work right? Can you go to the sport competition sites and bring some of these towels?”

“Huh? Oh sure,” you held out your arms to carry the stack of soft materials. “Which ones should I go to?”

The suit-clad woman checked the list in her hand before pointing behind you. 

“If you walk south you can take a circular route from the wolf and human sprint courses, through the tennis courts and basketball gyms to end up at the volleyball gym. The Tokyo teams are practicing and all of the other packs are expected to arrive later this evening, make sure that there are enough. Oh, those too,” she pointed to a towel filled cart.

Your brain felt numb again. You laughed pitifully as the woman walked away, watching as she yelled at a few brawling wolves on the path. Dropping the towels onto the rolling cart to your side, you began pushing the large weight in the direction of the tracks. You desperately wanted to smell the clean cotton but your nose was clogged. A whine escaped you.

Most of the competing players were taking breaks, a lot of the boys had shifted into their wolf forms to lounge in the sun and pant while a majority of the girls decided to stick to the shade and drink water. They both thankfully took the towels you delivered, though a few came close to biting your hand as they did.

While at the tennis court Oujiyama ran up to you, racket held tightly in his mouth whining for you to pour water over his head. You complied but weren’t too happy about it.

It was only when you made it to the volleyball courts where the players had been playing rigorously. You delivered the towels to the girl’s teams before making your way to the boys, who were yelling much louder than you would expect them to.

“Excuse me, sir, I brought some towels.”

The old man looked your way. His arms were tightly crossed over his chest and his eyes seemed to be set in a permanent glare meant for scrutinizing every movement before him.

“Oh, thank you,” he said, flicking his wrist to look at the watch that was hidden under his red sleeve. “I guess it is a good time for a break. Boys!”

All the heads on the court turned your way, including those that were clearly from different packs. The old man looked sent a questioning look in the direction of the other coaches, who gave a positive nod.

“Break!”

Immediately all the players ran in the direction of their water bottles. Some shifted in hopes to get there faster than the others, nearly breaking their bottles in the grip of the wolf jaws, and startling their managers in the process. Some began to line up before you, politely asking for towels to which you responded by gently holding them out or dropping it around furry necks.

“You seem tired,” the last one said in a hushed tone.

You let out a sigh, “I’ve been preparing rice for the winning prizes for the past few days, and now that that’s done I need to help with other preparations before all the packs arrive.”

The boy hummed, taking a sip from his bottle, “do you at least get to have a break to watch the games?”

“Thankfully,” you said as you leaned against the now empty cart, sniffing. “It’s like this every year to an extent but this time we have three groups competing which means three times the work.”

The boy took the space beside you, letting his weight shift the cart slightly. “What pack do you come from?” He asked.

“Karasuno.”

“Ah, do you know Shoyo?”

You shrugged a shoulder, “I’ve never actually spoken to the volleyball team, but I’ve seen them around. I tend to spend most of my time working, so any of the people I talk to are mostly out of convenience.” You thought about Yoshida and Oujiyama for a moment, “Or they just pester me for food.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, sorry.” You dug your shoe into the wooden floor, “So what’s your name any-”

“Hey Kenma.”

“It’s Kozume. That’s Kuroo.”

“Tetsurou.”

The tall black-haired player that had interrupted the boy you were speaking to -Kozume- walked over with his hands placed on his hips. He breathed deeply before letting out an amused huff. Kozume huffed.

“You’re willing to talk to a stranger you just met over your own team? That’s new.”

“The stranger’s name is-”

“(Y/N).”

“That. And unlike the team (Y/N) actually relaxed and not loud.”

“Are you saying that that’s not relaxed?” Kuroo asked, throwing an arm out to gesture back to his teammates.

The boys he was referring to were all sprawled across the floor breathing heavily. One, in particular, was in his wolf form rolled onto his back while holding the squeezable water bottle between his teeth, squishing it, and chugging down the contents that poured out. Kenma pushed off the cart to stand next to Kuroo.

“That’s exhaustion, not relaxation.”

As the two bickered back and forth, you spun around to grab the handle of your cart.

“I’ll just go. I’ll see you two around.”

They paid you no mind, continuing to argue over Kenma’s relationships with his teammates. Despite the topic being focused on the dyed blonde, Kuroo seemed to be the more passionate of the two regarding the topic.

Nodding, you shuffled backwards while chewing your lip. The coaches, having caught your exit, sent you grateful smiles and waves that you returned before scooting yourself out of there.

Meeting your own packs volleyball team was an interesting experience. As soon as the bus doors opened a few of them, in the canine forms, jumped out and began running around the open parking lot. They howled continuously until their captain had to yell them down. You started speaking to Ukai and Takeda, showing them a map of the area.

When the Nekoma volleyball team came to greet them it seemed as though all hell broke loose. Nekomata came to your side, gently taking the map from your hands and began leading the coaches in the right direction.

You began walking behind the older men, silently listening in to their conversation and chiming in wherever there was a turn to be made.

Kozume began to walk alongside you, taking who turned out to be Shoyo with him. How you managed to participate in their conversation was beyond you, but you mentally thanked Kozume’s ability to keep the energetic orange talking for the lack of silence.

When the Karasuno volleyball team managed to get all their bags inside their rooms you sighed happily, now free of work. 

“You should go rest, a lot of the games start tomorrow and you don’t want to miss them.” Kuroo had popped up, startling you slightly.

You turned to face his hunched figure head-on. “I’m mostly planning on watching tennis and soccer games. My friends are playing.”

“Well, using that criteria you should be planning to watch our games too.” Kenma had somehow managed to get away from Shoyo and sneak up behind you. He looked a bit drained but not much more than he normally would.

“Huh?” you sniffed again.

Kuroo smiled cheekily and leaned a bit further down, making it easier to see both of his eyes through the hanging black strands.

“Well, you should come to see us play. Don’t you think, mate?”

Despite being the person that controls posting these, I don’t tpically have things to say.... oops - Bacon 

Posted: 03/07/2020

[alison-anonymous]

flawsome bandits pt. 11 ♡ sonic

Flawsome Tessering

Part 11, coming at you! This part doesn’t have too much Sonic x Y/n, but don’t worry my darlings, I am saving that for the next chapter ;) This one includes some mother-daughter relationships and tons of foreshadowing. Enjoy!

Warnings - slight angst, robotnik x stone mentions

♡♡♡

“Why so down, Sonic?” A man with a head as smooth as an eggshell asked his pet boulder as it sat next to him in his poorly repaired drone. The boulder had tiny little dents in its craters that were obviously created by Robotnik to form a dopey grin and two misshapen eye sockets. The man chortled to himself as he tapped the cracked glass where an electric blue quill sat, charging up his entire machine. “Aww, are you sad because I’m coming back home?”

Robotnik stared intently at the little boulder, watching as it practically began to sweat under his intense gaze. He finally sat back up and let out yet another loud chuckle, filling the silent air around him for miles. “Sorry to disappoint, bud, but you and your little girlfriend are going to be toast as soon as I wrap my hands around your puny little necks~” He sang out the last part, his time spent in isolation taking an immense toll on his sanity. His tethered and gloved hands expertly found their way across his very dented control panel, clicking on a bunch of buttons that ended up making the drone begin to whirr. The air surrounding him that reeked of fungus began to churn at the new winds. 

“Come on, baby,” Robotnik grumbled, pushing his prized invention to the limit as it began to levitate its misshapen and damaged body a couple feet off the ground. The engines worked in tandem with one another, struggling to compensate for the extreme damage that had been inflicted upon them. Even Robotnik’s expert repair jobs using the emergency kits Stone had made him place in every one of his drones wasn’t enough to make up for it all. 

He guessed Stone was right for once. Shocker.

The erratic energy being extracted from Sonic’s quill mingled with the artificial power he was able to save. As the drone began to sputter, he quickly grabbed onto the throttle in an attempt to steady the drone, even his hideously long mustache hairs twitching with anticipation. He had to do it. He had to make this work. He couldn’t stand another second trapped here with Mushroom Bertha, Mushroom Kick-Sonic’s-Ass, Mushroom Carl, and Mushroom I-Want-A-Hedgehog-Skin-Rug or IWAHS for short. After a couple of minutes spent in agonizing suspense, a little glimmer began to form in the air before him. A malicious grin made its way across his lips as he realized that his plan was working.

The energy coming from his drone was enough to cause a small rip in the universe, mostly due to Sonic’s alienated DNA and ability to tesser between universes. The tear grew a decent size wider, its edges glowing an abnormal white and a very faint image of what he presumed to be Green Hills glimmered within it. It was right there. He was going to make it! It was barely big enough for him to pass through, but it was all he needed. With a surge of energy and Robotnik practically gritting his teeth until they chipped, the drone shot through the portal in a flash of blinding light, crash landing onto a very mossy green ground. The impact made Robotnik slam his face against the throttle, but luckily his gigantic mustache hairs cushioned the blow. The drone slowly began to let off steam, already having used all of its juices to float for less than thirty minutes. A steady blow of steam began to shoot up into the air from one of the drones' important capsules, and Robotnik was quick to regain consciousness, standing up and practically falling back down into his seat from the excitement. He looked around the area, hoping taking over his entire internal chemistry as he looked at his surroundings. The hope died almost instantly as he came to a horrific conclusion.

This… this wasn’t Green Hills! 

What the actual fuck?!

There were oddly misshapen trees and abnormal creatures waddling around the perimeter and LOOP-DE-LOOPS?! The anger got the better of him as he picked up the boulder sitting next to him and screamed at the top of his lungs.

“God damnit, Sonic! This is all your fault!” And the tiny boulder was sent flying out of the drone to land against the grass, where it rolled down a hill.

It was safe from the evil man’s clutches at last.

Robotnik let out another frustrated groan and slammed his fists down onto the dash, causing even more smoke to secrete from vital components of the drone. But he didn’t care right now. He had been working on building up all of that power for months. To have it all lost getting him somewhere that wasn’t even where he needed to be - where those goddamn hedgehogs were! And now he was stuck in this crazy backwards land with nothing to defend himself with. At least back with the mushrooms the only predator was sleep deprivation.

And of course, that was self inflicted.

“Oh thank god.” A sudden voice broke through his frustrations. Robotnik’s head snapped up so quickly he was sure he heard his neck crack. He was expecting the worst: three headed bear, snake crossed with a lizard, horse sized horsefly, something deadly and positively hideous. So when he saw a little black and red hedgehog staring at him intently with ruby irises and what looked to be a gun and a little bag situated around his hips, he was very, VERY surprised.

“Well, who the fuck are you supposed to be?” Robotnik couldn’t help but blurt. The hedgehog looked incredibly relieved as he came closer to the drone, showing his gloved hands in a means of presenting no harm.

“My name is Shadow. I was created by your assistant, Agent Stone.” Robotnik’s heart stopped at the sound of his name. “He sent me through the different universes to find you. It’s taken forever, but I finally did it. I have more rings left to get us back to the planet where Hedgehog Sonic and Hedgehog Y/n reside.” 

Robotnik was floored, to say the least. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Agent Stone, the little guy who made delicious lattes and who knew him better than anyone else, MADE a hedgehog and sent him to help Robotnik defeat the two once and for all? 

He owed him a thank you. Or maybe more than that, if you catch my drift ;)

“W-Well then, I suppose it’s nice to have you on board, Mr. Shadow. Unfortunately, my drone was a bit destroyed during the movement here, so unless you have a giant bag of tools next to your gun there, I-”

“Don’t worry, Sir, I’ve got it handled,” Shadow interrupted him, turning around to point into a throng of bushy trees. “I met an Echidna along the way who might be of use to us. Perhaps we could brainwash him into assisting us.” 

Damn. Agent Stone really did a number on this guy. Robotnik liked it. 

♡♡♡

A few hours later and a lot of impressive manipulation, Shadow and Robotnik had recruited yet another member onto their team: Knuckles the Echidna. He was a very burly red thing with intimidating eyes and an unfortunate lack of brains. But, he had resources and his muscle could even out Robotnik’s brains and Shadow’s apparent fiery temper. They were able to convince him that Y/n and Sonic were two beings from a far away planet that were power hungry and had a plot to destroy the entire universe, including this planet. Of course, Knuckles was petrified and said that they must be stopped immediately. The guy was also pretty handy with supplying the needed instruments to fix up Robotnik’s drone. 

Of course, it wasn’t the best job, but it would have to do for now. After Robotnik had done his little patch job, the trio were beginning to prep for their return to earth.

“I assume that you are very excited to defeat the two hedgehogs, Doctor,” Shadow spoke with authority. “But I think it would be better to hide out in a secluded spot for a little while in order for us to build up our resources. We wouldn’t want to go straight into battle without being prepared.” 

Even though Robotnik was really looking forward to crushing Bonnie and Clyde, he had to admit that Shadow had a point. He nodded slowly. “We’ll hide out in the woods in order to gather resources and start the formation of Metal Sonic. Agreed? Agreed.” Even though he wasn’t looking for a confirmation, the two nodded despite. Everything was going according to plan. Robotnik had gathered two allies and had already begun his plan to form a metal-based version of Sonic. For two reasons, really. The first was to use Sonic’s greatest power and turn it into his weakness, and the second was to try and trick Y/n into not being able to fight the one that she loves. They were going to destroy the two hedgehogs once and for good, donating their bodies to Robotnik’s favorite charity: science.

But what these little twerps didn’t know was that a certain fox had been spying on the three of them ever since Robotnik had crash landed a couple feet away from his lab. It was finely secluded within the weeping willow trees, so he hadn’t been able to see it. But his security measures sure saw the mustache guy.

The little fox’s stomach began to fill with dread as he thought about all of this. These guys were obviously up to no good. Anyone who loved the color combo red and black was obviously up to no good. Especially someone who grew their mustache past five inches. 

On each side.

Those two hedgehogs they had been mentioning… What were their names? Bonnie and Clyde? Funny named for hedgehogs, but he guessed that their world was different than his. He began to rummage through the different gizmos and gadgets he had spent ages on until he finally gathered all of the materials he needed. His little gloved fingers found their way to his energy-tracker as he calibrated it to their energy sources. Funny, he thought. One of them was stronger than the other. 

He narrowed his eyes in determination, steadying himself as he thought of the realm they lived in and tossed one of his golden rings. The second the portal opened, he jumped through, landing on what appeared to be a cliff looking over a small town. Relief filled his orangish-yellow chest as he looked across. He hoped he knew what he was doing. 

Extending his two tails, he leapt off the cliff.

♡♡♡

“M-Mom?” Maddie stirred in her sleep. 

“Mommy?” 

The young mother’s eyes slowly opened to be greeted with the sight of her daughter who had tears streaming down her cheeks. The sight of her daughter in distress kicked all of the sleep out of her as she instantly shot up in bed and immediately started wiping away the tears. Most of them got brushed into the fur around her eyes, but she didn’t care.

“N/n, baby, what’s wrong?” She asked softly, trying her best not to wake up her husband who still lay sound asleep behind her. Y/n only continued to cry harder, her e/c eyes glowing in the dark.

“I-I’m sorry, Mommy. I-I didn’t w-want to see i-it, I-” Maddie gently shushed her, standing on her feet and expertly lifting up the frail hedgehog onto her hip, holding her like she was a toddler. 

“Y/n, honey, you’re not making any sense.” She glanced over at the clock and realized it was barely five in the morning. What on earth was she doing up this late? Y/n was in such hysterics that all she was able to do was plant her face into Maddie’s shoulder and continue to cry, her chest feeling like a million daggers were being dug into it. Maddie’s heart was ripping at the seams for her daughter, as the last time she had seen her this upset was when Sonic had died. She quickly and quietly took the weeping hedgehog out of her room, making sure not to make a sound as she closed the door to leave her sleeping husband alone, and continued through the darkened halls until they made it to the main bathroom. She closed the door behind them and set the hedgehog onto the counter, grabbing a wad of tissues and quickly dabbing her eyes while Y/n wrapped her arms around her trembling torso.

“I-I’m s-sorry-” She hiccuped, choking on the mucus being created from her tears. Maddie’s gaze softened.

“Sweetie, what on earth could you have to be sorry for?” To her surprise, Y/n’s eyes only filled with guilt and self-disgust as she looked down at the floor. 

“...what happened?” Maddie gently cupped her daughter’s furry face in her hands and stared into her liquid e/c eyes. The deeper she looked into them, the more she was able to picture Y/n before she had turned into a hedgehog, back when she was a human. The little hedgehog exhaled a shaky breath and wrung her hands together.

“I… I woke up to singing. And I followed it outside, and there was this… thing out there. It was calling to me, and when I touched it, this is going to sound insane, but it showed me pictures of the future. I-I saw Robotnik, and I saw me and Sonic with two other people and then… the last one… M-Mommy, it looked like someone was trying to k-kill me-” Maddie’s heart stopped in her chest, her eyes widening in horror. Fresh tears began to spill down Y/n’s cheeks even faster. “I-I don’t want to die!”

Maddie quickly enveloped her in a tight hug, pressing her daughter’s head into her chest and stroking her quills gently. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. You’re not going to die.”

“H-how do you k-know that? M-my powers are growing a-and I don’t know how to s-stop it, I don’t want to kn-know how we’re going to d-die, I-” 

Maddie hushed her, continuing to stroke her quills. They sat like this for quite some time, with Maddie consoling her hysterical daughter until her sobs finally died down and were replaced with melancholic sniffles. Maddie’s heart continued to pound, however, fear and confusion coursing through her veins. She was trying with all her might to wrap her brain around the matter, but she was the one who had had the worst time figuring out how Sonic and Y/n’s powers worked in tandem with one another. Even Tom relatively understood better than she could. She knew that Y/n had vocal telekinesis, but seeing the future? Little wisp-like creatures? It didn’t seem like those had ever been mentioned or used before. 

What was going on? Was her daughter truly in danger?

Her grip around her tightened. Y/n exhaled softly and it was then that Maddie realized she had fallen asleep. A small smile crossed her lips as she picked her daughter back up and began to make her way back into the living room. She could have just taken her to her bedroom, but in all honesty, she felt safer leaving her with Sonic than by herself. As she walked through the darkened hallways, she tried to silence the red alarms blaring endlessly throughout her mind. 

Something was wrong.

She could feel it. She didn’t even need magical powers to feel it. Her breath hitched in her throat as she made her way down the stairs, making sure not to trip as she entered the living room. Sonic still lay sound asleep on the couch, not having moved an inch since Y/n had woken up. Maddie gently set her daughter down on the couch, resting her head on Sonic’s chest and covering the two with a fleece blanket. Her fingers softly traced Y/n’s jawline as she slowly stood back up, a small, yet sad, smile staying on her lips.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” she whispered into the silence. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

♡ a.a.

[where-dreamers-go]

“Literature And Conspiracies” Riley Poole x Reader

(A/N: Anon asked: “I’d love a Riley Poole x reader where she’s a professor of literature and Ben and Abigail set them up when he wants to do research for his book” -&

Not entirely sure if this was what you had in mind, but I hope it’s entertaining.

Word Count: 2,864)

“Riley seems a bit stressed lately,” Abigail spoke.

Abigail and Ben were enjoying a dinner at home surrounded by their love of history. History that took over the house from the floor to the ceiling.

“It’s his book he’s planning. Well…writing.” Ben took a sip of his drink. “He knows what he wants to write about, but he needs to find the right sources, set it in a proper format and….I might know someone that can help. I can send her an e-mail.”

“She?” Abigail quirked an eyebrow.

“I met her at the (__) lecture last week. She’s a professor of literature.”

“Oh. Do you think she’d be willing to help Riley? Professors have their own research to do, Ben.”

“I know, I know. Although, she seemed nice….in a friendly normal way.” He gave his thoughts aloud. “Riley shouldn’t be too distracted.”

Abigail rose her eyebrows with a smirk.

. . . 

“Awh, come on, Riley. They already answered back and they’d be happy to help you.”

“Ben, you didn’t think to ask me first before you made an appointment at some school?” Riley rolled a pencil across the table between them. Books stacked haphazardly across the surface.

“The thought did occur.”

“Ben. I can find someone or…search online how to format my book. It’s what that professor will probably scold me about when I get there.”

“No. I already said they’re nice.” Ben watched as Riley moved aside another book. “Her name’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

Thump

Ben smiled triumphantly.

. . . 

You deleted another e-mail as you sat behind your desk. Filling any minute of free time with small tasks was skill you’d acquired through many years in school. Although having your own office was definitely a perk in its own right.

Knock knock

“Come in,” you called and closed out of the Internet browser.

“Hello.”

In walked a brunette man in a dark navy jacket and backpack straps visible over his shoulders.

“Hello,” you stood from your seat and extended your hand. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You must be…”

“Riley,” he grasped your hand in a light shake. “Uh. Riley Poole.” He released your hand and shrugged off his backpack before sitting down.

You returned to your seat.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Poole. I understand from your friend’s e-mails that you’re writing your first book.”

“Yeah—yes, I am.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“That’s exciting,” you smiled. “Are there any questions you might have? Regarding research and sources, perhaps?”

“Ye—…a lot actually.”

“Oh, well in that case, let’s start with the subject of your book. That will help move things forward.”

Mister Poole changed his position on the chair more than once. His eyes looking passed you in an attempt to delay the inevitable. Taking a short breath, he returned his blue-eyed gaze to you.

“Government conspiracies and urban legends.”

Your eyebrows rose at his unexpected response.

Conspiracy theories and urban legends were anything but boring to you. Sure, it wasn’t something you discussed with co-workers. You were a professor of literature for crying out loud, and conspiracy theories were not lighthearted conversations to have while walking into the building in the morning. 

“That sounds like a deep subject with many specific ideas to pick out. Most definitely a large subject to write about, that much is certain. It’s brave and intriguing. Especially to anyone interested in theories, urban legends, and history to connect them together.”

“Yes…exactly.” He straightened up and gauged your expression. “You’re not…making fun of it…?”

“No, not at all, Mister Poole. Every writer has their own right in what to have in their work. Added that both legends and conspiracy theories are quite intriguing in their own rights. I, myself, enjoy the more ancient theories in the world.”

“Oh. Okay then.” Riley seemed genuinely surprised and more relaxed by your reaction.

You smiled at him.

The following minutes ticked by without the attention of you nor Mister Riley Poole. Time was spent talking, discussing, giving him suggestions, suggested websites, and a library nearby with good resources. All the while, he took notes and you two shared knowledge on theories, if only partially. It was easy to talk with him. Fun even.

When your eyes happened to check the time on the clock, you realized you needed to grab your things and head over to teach a class soon. Extremely soon.

“Shoot,” you muttered under your breath.

“Hmm?” Mister Poole glanced up from his notes.

“I have a class in seven minutes.” You started shutting down your computer and reached over for your bag. “It was a delight to speak with you today. I’m glad we had a chance to meet, Mister Poole.”

“It was nice to meet you.”

He gathered all of his belongings and shoved them into his backpack in one go. Standing up, Mister Poole shrugged on his bag.

You stood away from your desk with your bag hanging off of your shoulder.

“If you should need any more assistance with your book,” you plucked a business card off of your desk, “please don’t hesitate to contact me.” Extending your hand, you handed him your card.

He took a glance at it.

“I teach most of the afternoon in either lectures or meetings, however I do get off work after four thirty. Again, please don’t hesitate to contact me,” you smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”

Stepping around the wooden desk, you followed him out of your office.

“I hope to see you again, Mister Poole.” You said as you turned to lock the door.

“Me too.”

His smile was soft and genuine.

. . .

Back home, Riley called his best friend, Ben Gates.

“So, how did everything go?”

“Great actually. Although, you could have mentioned that she was pretty.”

“Now, Riley, why would I do that?”

“Because it would have prepared me to focus more on my notes.”

“You took notes? Good.”

“Ben.” Riley paced around his living space.

“Oh, come on. You can handle being around another person.”

“Yeah, I know that, but I didn’t expect to be telling a cute and smart person what I’m having difficulties with in writing a book about conspiracy theories.”

“So you told her?”

“Yes, she took it really well. I think she was serious. Didn’t bring up Bigfoot or anything like that.”

“That’s good. Did you get all of your questions answered?” Ben asked.

“Pretty much, and she said that if I needed any more help, that I can contact her,” Riley flipped the small business card between his fingers.

“She gave you her number?”

“In case I need more help. Yes. Also that she works basically all day until four thirty.”

“Call her after four thirty,” Abigail’s voice came through the phone.

“Uh, hi,” Riley said and sat onto the couch. “Why?”

“Ask if she is busy after work, but call at four forty, so that way she has some time to herself after leaving work. And you don’t want to seem too desperate.”

“Desperate? What are you two talking about?” Riley spoke louder into the phone. “I can handle writing a book.”

. . .

You sipped from a refreshing drink at a back table at a pizza place just off of the school campus. Surprisingly, Mister Riley Poole had called you a quarter to five and asked if you were busy after work. He was a bit short on words, but he had said he had more questions in regards to gathering proper research for his book.

With no papers to grade and not minding helping him once more, you had accepted.

The pizza place had a slow flow of hungry students and other pizza-lovers. Silverware clinking onto plates and glassware thunking onto the tables.

Hungry as you were to order pizza, you were patient. This was your time off the clock, which gave you breathing room. You were keeping an eye out towards the entrance of the place as you waited for Riley Poole. Hands rubbing together and fiddling around as time ticked away. Although, once your eyes spotted a familiar navy jacket, you figured Riley was not one to be late. That was refreshing.

He walked inside and gave the place a once-over. It took him a few moments to spot you in the back.

Standing up, you waved Riley over after gaining his attention.

The man smiled before weaving through the tables and people to reach you. Lacking his backpack from earlier in the day seemed to have made his task a little easier.

“Hi,” he smiled once more.

“Hi again.”

You both automatically sat down across from one another. The metal chair legs screeching against the flooring.

“How was your day?” You asked.

“Ah—good. Sorting my notes. They were really helpful. You were really helpful.” He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem. Really.”

You looked passed Riley as a server approached your table.

“Hello,” they greeted with a notepad in hand and looked to Riley. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Oh, uh—. Water would be fine.”

“Okay.” They scribbled a note down. “And are you two ready to order?”

“Yes.” You and Riley answered simultaneously. It briefly dazed you even as an amused smile curved your lips.

Riley pulled on the trim of his jacket.

The both of you had finished ordering a pizza of your choice. Leading to open conversation as you would wait for dinner.

“Did…did your lectures—class go good?” Riley asked, fingers clasped tightly on the table.

“Yeah, they did. I did two lectures today. Although I did end up going over time—not that the class had ended and I went on and on.” You explained, “I didn’t stop as early as I would have liked. About five minutes before class ends. I like to give my students time to take notes and actually pack their things before they have to head off to another class, get lunch, or…well some have a job too.”

“That’s really considerate. Don’t some teache—professors go until time’s up? Getting all their time in?”

“Some do. I mean the ones I had, but I don’t have to worry about that anymore.” You grinned, a light and relieved feeling in your chest. “I have my own classes and my own way of running a class. Which means I know that students have more than one class and an actual life.”

He sat mirroring your grin. Little crinkles beside his eyes.

“Was becoming a professor your type of rebelling against them?”

You barked a laugh louder than you would have preferred.

“In a way,” you pressed your lips together to hide another grin. “I also give advice sometimes. It’s not exactly what they go in expecting. They…they call it ‘words of wisdom’, but only on Wednesdays. I just….say what actually happens or had happened. They need someone to be real with them. What actually happens in the world outside of school. It’s something I would have really benefited from.”

“Could you give an example?”

“Uh. Maybe something it terms of…Well, let’s say I was telling them to find good sources for a paper. Right? I can’t just say, ‘go forth’, I need to give them a better direction. Where to find it and more importantly why. So I’ll probably go on a mini rant about why finding a source and a reliable one is so important. Telling them how if they were to read someone’s paper to learn something, but then realize that more than half of it was not factual or wasn’t checked properly, that they’d feel cheated. That goes for fiction too, but it needs to have some foundation and have its own rules.”

You took a moment to breath after that half-winded explanation. Looking to the man across from you, he seemed thoroughly interested and not lost from your words. In fact, Riley looked somewhere between amused and impressed.

“Though…um…,” you grabbed your glass, “that’s probably a topic more related to the class. Unlike, where to go have your taxes done.”

“Is that why you have a lecture hall and not a classroom? Like, there’s always a lot of students?”

“A part. Maybe. But being a professor sure helps.” You took a sip of your drink.

“Do you prefer a lot of students—all in one class?” He asked, leaned on the table’s edge.

“More students, more learning, but…I’d really prefer a small class size so that each student had a better opportunity for one-on-ones. But everyone’s rotating between classrooms and lecture halls. I want to help, just that everyone is almost always rushing around the campus needing to do something. Like that of one class that could not wait for someone to calmly leave another.” You exhaled, “the class I teach is generalized and therefore made into a lecture hall style.”

“That su—.”

“Here you go,” the server returned and gave Riley the drink he ordered. After a short moment, they left the table once more.

“So,” you started, “what about you? Anything you’re glad changed in your life?”

His dark eyebrows rose as he took a long drink of the water.

“…Too personal?” You asked.

“No,” he coughed. “No, I..uh..I actually…well let’s just say I was stuck in a cubicle for a while.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, no, it’s better now. Great actually. Who knew treasure hunting with my best friend would work out in the long run.” He offered a smile.

Ah, he must mean the Templar’s treasure, you thought. He hadn’t brought that up at the meeting earlier. Not the bragging type. Cool.

You had already met Ben Gates, Riley Poole’s best friend, the week prior at a lecture. Therefore, you knew that Riley was involved with finding the treasure, but that wasn’t something you were going to bring up in conversation out of the blue nor during a meeting to help him know where to source proper research. It would have been really odd and unprofessional if you did.

“Is the Templar’s treasure something you’ll put into your book?” You asked.

Riley’s eyes widened only for a second before answering, “I will. It’s a large historical find.”

“Added that the treasure is something a lot of people are still talking about. I’m sure it’ll be studied and talked about for years. So…maybe being the first to write about it will be really good. Get your foot already in the door.”

“Exactly.”

There was something endearing about how he talked about his future book. The hint of joy and deep knowledge in his eyes.

“So…may I ask what happened? I mean, I’ve read the articles and I talked briefly with Mister Gates, but was it really like a movie? Adventure, clues, and danger?”

His fingers played against his glass of water as he sat up straighter.

“There were definitely a lot of clues. That’s all we started with, finding the Charlotte, but then Ben and I were running between staying alive and getting to the Declaration of Independence. Our main…objective was to save the Declaration of Independence. We couldn’t let Ia—the other people harm the Declaration, looking the next clues on the back.”

“On the back of the Declaration? Huh…You never know I guess.”

Your attention veered over as the waiter arrived with a tray of pizza.

“It’s hot,” they warned. They set the silver tray on the table’s end before walking off again.

Like the two hungry adults that you were, you each grabbed your own slice.

Once yours was on your plate, you dabbed the pizza at least three times with napkins. You ordered pizza, not grease.

About a minute of salivating into your meal later, you continued into a conversation with Riley.

“At least everything worked out in the end.”

“Huh?” He looked up from taking a bite of pizza.

“With the Templar’s treasure. You were all okay.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank goodness for stairs and not being charged for anything was nice. That would had been great.” He made a face looking elsewhere before taking another bite of pizza.

This Riley Poole appeared to be quite the sarcastic, smart, funny, and not to miss acknowledging his seemingly random knowledge about topics. You were starting to think that if you spent anymore time with him, that you’d like him in a different way.

Kindly, you pushed the small stack of napkins in his direction.

He smiled. Then the pizza slice broke away from the crust and dropped to the plate. He made an unamused sound in his throat.

Nevermind. That boat had set sail.

You took a long sip of your drink.

“You can call me, (Y/N). This isn’t exactly a strict setting,” you said, breaking through the calm quiet that fell between you.

. . .

“So…I just realized something.”

“What?” He asked.

“We never spoke about resources or anything,” you mused with a smile.

“Oh.” His shoulders fell two inches along with his happy grin.

You laughed at the genuine realization on his face.

“Maybe we can…?” He scratched behind his neck.

“Try this again?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d like that.”

~~~

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful. coffee

Best wishes and happy reading.)

[bnhainsert]

Sound Out

Chapter 6: Aria Di Baule

__________________________________________________________

“Are you sure about this? You think we can trust her?” Bakugo cautiously asked Midoriya. “I’ve seen her in action. I’ve gotten to know her a little bit. She honestly kind of reminds me of myself when I was younger, even though she’s older than us” Midoriya reassured Bakugo. “Gross” Bakugo grunted. Midoriya rolled his eyes at his friend’s jest. “I know she said she wanted to be back home after 3 days but with what you two discovered today, I think we’re going to need her help for a little longer” Midoriya continued. He asked Bakugo to call the pro hero and let her know about the change in plans.

“Goddamnit it’s Ground Zero you dumbass. I’ve made arrangements for you to stay in town a few more days. You’ll be picked up tomorrow morning and brought to my agency”.

Midoriya watched Bakugo immediately hang up with a scowl on his face. He would have laughed if his friend didn’t look so angry. “Don’t you think that was a little harsh or abrupt?” Midoriya asked. “She understood. And even if she didn’t, she’s going to be picked up and taken here anyway” Bakugo replied. Midoriya shrugged.

The two discussed how to go about their meeting and the living arrangements for Hado. Everything was all planned out. Now all they needed was Hado to arrive tomorrow morning.

Bakugo watched as the pro hero walked in looking like a bit of an airhead. She was staring at the articles on the walls. She looked surprised like she had no idea who the article was about. It pissed him off a small bit. He bit his tongue to keep him from saying something too harsh. “Hey dumbass. Let’s go” he barked out.

He looked over his shoulder as he walked up the stairs of his agency. She sort of stumbled up the steps looking confused, concerned, and…was that a hint of annoyance? What did she have to be annoyed about?

They got up to Bakugo’s office. He went to have a seat at his desk. Everything had been organized for the day thanks to one of his 2 sidekicks. His sidekick would have had to do a damn good job because Bakugo wouldn’t have any less than that.

“So what is my town supposed to do without me for the next...however long you decided to keep me in town?” He heard Vocaller speak up. “Oh right. She wants to go back to her shitty town to make sure it’s protected…” Bakugo remembered Midoriya mentioning the terms of the deal they made.

“Quit your whining. Tsukuyami and Ingenium are out there in your shitty city keeping it safe” Bakugo spit out. He meant it to reassure her, but he was also just really annoyed by her blame. Midoriya walked out and jumped into the conversation. He mentioned that keeping her here was his own idea. Midoriya was always better at communicating with others than Bakugo which was just fine with him considering they worked together so often.

They walked into the conference room across the hall from Bakugo’s office to talk about all of the new information that was gathered. “Before we get started, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you your name…” Midoriya admitted clearly embarrassed. “Hado right?” Bakugo spoke. She looked over at him with more surprise. He wished he could smack the look off of her face. He closed his eyes instead waiting for an answer.

“Oh yeah….um yeah My name is Hado Hibiki…. I guess you heard Jiro say it yesterday? That’s a pretty impressive catch” Hado praised. Bakugo’s eyebrows twitched. He didn’t need her praise. He crossed his arms to keep from damaging anything in the conference room.

“Ah and you probably don’t know our names either. I’m Midoriya Izuku and this is-" He was cut off mid-sentence by Hado. “Bakugo right?”. His eyes flashed open to glare at her. That damn mobile phone charger had said his name out loud yesterday didn’t he. “Yeah. Heard it yesterday from Sparky right?” Bakugo replied. Hado nodded. A small smirked appeared on her face and Bakugo’s blood started to boil.

“Okay…now that we’re all familiar with each other, let’s talk about that discovery you two made yesterday” Midoriya moved the conversation forward. They began to talk about the hidden door connected to a bakery. Bakugo and Midoriya had spoken to the owner that morning and it seemed like they didn’t know anything about a hidden room. There also wasn’t a false room in the store’s blueprints. Upon further research, they dug up the map of the city’s underground sewer system, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. This map however was about 20 years old so there is a chance that the underground passageways could have been altered in the past 10 years or so.

They asked about the panels Hado found and how she managed to get them to unlock. “So, there’s a mechanism inside the panels that activate when pressed and are connected to each other. I’m guessing they won’t unlock unless pressed in a certain order because of how the mechanism tries to unlock each one. Instead of trying combinations I just amplified the soundwaves in each panel to activate the mechanisms all at once, causing them all to unlock and open the door” Hado explained. “That’s pretty resourceful” Midoriya commented.

“It would’ve been more resourceful if she had backup with her. Instead she called my agency panicked because she hadn’t planned that far ahead” Bakugo sneered. Hado laughed nervously and rubbed the back of my head. “Yeah sorry about that…” She apologized. She looked like she was just playing it off. She honestly looked like something was bothering her, but she wouldn’t say anything about it.

“Whatever” Bakugo replied, looking away from her.

The three of them went through some strategies, preparing for either the villains to come back out again, or to infiltrate their hideout. They were hoping they could implement the infiltration mission first, but they wouldn’t be able to have their team for that together for another 2 weeks. They would just have to wait and hope for the best.

“So where am I going to be staying for the next 2 and a half weeks?” Hado asked. Bakugo stood up quickly and turned toward the doorway. Hado looked after him confused. “Are you coming or what dumbass?” Bakugo called back to her. Hado realized what was happening and rushed to follow him. She thanked Midoriya on her way out as he waved to her.

She followed Bakugo a little way down the hallway from the conference room. He opened up a door on the left side and kept it open for Hado to go through. This was his very own bedroom away from home. There were plenty of nights where he would stay late at the agency and going home would just take too much time. To be more efficient, he had a room built specifically for him to sleep in when he works those late nights. It was painted all black but only had the bare minimum of a bedroom. There was a cot against the corner of the room and a small table with a chair near the door. There was also a counter with a coffee maker. There was a door on the right side of the room that lead to a shower for cleaning up. Bakugo didn’t need a whole lot to get going for the next day.

Hado walked in and inspected the room. Was she looking for reasons to insult the room? “This room kind of reminds me of my room back home” Hado said with a warm smile. “What do you mean?” Bakugo growled. “Oh well….I mean…I’m a pro hero but I don’t make a whole lot of money so I just have the essentials in my small apartment” She explained with a little bit of nervousness in her voice.

Bakugo realized that not every hero would be able to afford a nice agency building but having a home the size of this room wasn’t even an option in his mind for a hero. He felt a small pang of guilt in his chest.

“Well…..I guess make yourself at home” Bakugo managed to get out in a less aggressive tone. He shut the door and let her have some privacy and walked back to his office. He sat down in his chair trying to go through how things would be run now that she was around the agency. He opened up one of his drawers and took out a few files from previous days. There was a case about a robbery that was stopped in town. He just needed to sign off on the actual capture of the perpetrator. There was an open case of some small time breaking and entering houses in the suburban part of the city. They might be able to get some work done on that case.

There was a gentle knock at his office door. “Come in” Bakugo said loudly enough for the person on the other side to hear. A well-kept man in glasses, a neat button down shirt, and khakis entered the office. It was Ground Zero’s sidekick, Catalog. His quirk: Organize. He could organize anything or anyone by any merit in his mind and they would instantaneously be put in that order. He must have 4 or more people/objects for it to work. It is incredibly useful for apprehending villains as well as organizing offices.

“Good morning Ground Zero” Catalog greeted quietly. He walked in with a black cup of coffee and set it on Bakugo’s desk. “Any new cases today?” Bakugo asked. “Ah yes there seems to have been a hit and run not too far from here. Renova is already out there trying to resolve it” Catalog answered. Bakugo took a quick sip of his coffee looking over other cases. “We have another pro hero joining our agency for the time being” Bakugo mentioned. “Oh? I didn’t think you’d hire more people sir” Catalog said surprised. “I haven’t hired her dumbass. She’s staying here for now while she helps us work on the big case” Bakugo explained. “Oh okay. Um…. would you like me to check on her?” Catalog asked a bit nervous and confused. “No, I’ll take care of her. You take care of any incoming cases and send the big ones my way” Bakugo ordered. Catalog nodded and left the room.

Bakugo spent a little more time looking over the files before deciding to check on Hado. He got up from his desk and stretched, preparing himself to go out on a few jobs after he checked up on his guest. He knocked on the door of the makeshift bedroom “Hey! I’m about to go out on a job. Are you good?” He yelled through the door. He heard a loud crash come from the other side of the door. He busted his way into the room and looked around. The room was still incredibly neat and Hado’s bag was set down next to the cot. “What the fuck?” Bakugo thought.

A loud laugh erupted from the doorway leading to the shower. Hado was poking her head out laughing at Bakugo’s expression of confusion. His anger started to rise. “What the fuck was that?!” Bakugo yelled. “I’m sorry…I just-“ Hado wheezed. “I just thought it would be funny and boy was I right” She fully explained gasping for air. “Oh you think you’re funny?” Bakugo snarled. He started to march his way over to Hado, but she quickly shut the door and locked it. “Come out of there you coward!” Bakugo shouted pulling at the doorknob. He could hear Hado laughing through the door.

The door flung open after about 20 seconds of pulling on it. If Bakugo’s reflexes were any slower, he would’ve thrown himself across the room from how fast he threw the door open. “I’m sorry” Hado apologized smiling. “You just seemed so upset earlier and so I thought you needed a laugh” She admitted shyly.

He was starting to understand that she could tell what other people were feeling and thinking. In her own way she was trying to help. “Only a dumbass would laugh at a joke like that. I’ll show you what makes me laugh” Bakugo said almost threateningly.

The two ended up on patrol, making sure the streets were under control. “So do your sidekicks take care of most of the work you guys get?” Hado asked genuinely curious. Bakugo thought the question she asked was a bit rude, but the tone of her voice seemed curious. He remembered that she doesn’t really have an agency of her own in her city. “They end up taking the smaller jobs that I refuse to waste my energy on. In a big city, many of the jobs that come through are smaller ones, but on the other side of that, you also tend to get real big cases as well” Bakugo explained. The curiosity on her face made him think of a freckled face green haired nerd that he knew of. “Is this what he meant by he sees bits of himself in her?” He thought to himself.

“Okay well what does a big case constitute” Hado asked. “Think city-wide destruction, hostage situations…you know…big stuff” Bakugo responded. Hado nodded in understanding. “I don���t see too many ‘Big’ cases back home” She admitted.

“Oh look it’s Ground Zero! Did he get a new sidekick?!” a person on the street yelled. A large group of people started to gather and chatter about the two. “No way. Ground Zero doesn’t just hire sidekicks randomly. Maybe it’s his girlfriend” one person threw out. He looked over and saw Hado’s face get red. Now this was funny. Seeing someone humiliated in public was comedy gold for him. “Maybe she’s his mom?” Someone else threw out. Hado’s face went from red with embarrassment to red with anger. “Nah she looks too young to be his mom” another person responded.

He thought the response would calm her down but when he looked over at her she still looked pretty pissed off. Then suddenly he couldn’t hear the crowd at all anymore. “Motherfuckers. Thinking it’s okay to just say whatever the fuck they want about whatever hero walks the street”. The voice surprised him. Hado was…complaining?

“What’d you do? Why can’t I hear them, but I can hear you? I mean it’s nice to not have those extras constantly in my ear but…how?” Bakugo asked with a smirk on his face. He enjoyed seeing her angry. It was entertaining to say the least. “I just fucking stopped their soundwaves from reaching our ears. I thought all this idiotic rambling would be annoying to you too so I made sure you wouldn’t be able to hear it either” Hado explained with a disgusted look on her face.

Bakugo let out a roaring laugh. “Now this is my kind of humor” Bakugo nearly yelled.  “I can insult any of these extras without fear of my pro hero rank going down” He said with a big smirk on his face. Hado looked over with a lifted eyebrow. “I mean…I guess you can. It’s a nice way to get out some frustrations safely” She said smirking now too.

The two of them spent the next 2 minutes yelling at the people gathering in the street. They laughed at each other’s insults for a bit before deciding to get back to patrolling. The crowd was incredibly confused as to why they couldn’t hear either of the heroes and their question of who the woman was still went unanswered.

The two continued their patrol through the city. Bakugo relaxed a little bit, feeling a bit more comfortable around Hado. Nothing too major happened that day but really anything could still happen at any time.

 A few days passed and Bakugo was finally starting to get used to Hado and her little habbits. She definitely wasn’t as nice as he thought she was at the beginning. She also knew how to do her job well enough that Bakugo didn’t have to go running to save her. That was a big plus for him. He was worried he was just going to be on baby sitting duty. Having her around all the time was annoying at first, but as she opened up and started to show what she could do, it became a lot more bearable for Bakugo.

The two almost became inseparable as they continued with their hero duties. Since Bakugo never addressed who she was, rumors began circulating around the town. The most widely accepted rumor was that she was just another sidekick. Bakugo didn’t ever have a flashy introduction for his first two sidekicks, so it would make sense that they didn’t know exactly who this new hero was.

The rumors continued to spread of this new sound hero and the rumors went deeper and deeper down….

 “Hey! Heads up there seems to be something popping off near the shopping district!” Renova yelled to Hado and Bakugo. “I’ve got this. You go take care of the ‘Big’ cases” Hado teased and amplified the soundwaves to push herself in the direction of the yelling.

She landed near where a building had a chunk taken out of it. She placed herself on top of a nearby building, surveying how much damage there was and by how many people it was caused by. She quickly scanned the rubble to see 4 different people emerge from the dust. There was a large buff man, a sleeker sketchier looking individual, a short woman with a cigarette in her mouth, and a muzzled man. They walked so nonchalantly out of the wreckage and began to look at the crowds of people running and screaming.

Hado amplified the soundwaves behind the crowds to project them forward just a little faster to keep the out of harm’s way of any of these villains. She silenced her steps and approached them from behind. She tried to listen intently to them as they spoke.

“Oh man I can’t wait to use this new quirk” the sleezier man spoke. “Yeah yeah just hurry up and test it already. I’m waiting to get my quirk next you know” The short lady spoke, taking a drag between sentences. Hado approached slowly, ready with a capture device that would wrap itself around the target and fully restrain them. She tried to throw her first capture item at the sleezy looking man but was grabbed by one of the others. The man with the muzzle had her arm twisted behind her back. “I GOT A HERO I GOT A HERO” the man said underneath the muzzle. She silenced his soundwaves quickly before they could reach the others. She flicked the capture item at the man and he quickly released her arm and fell hard onto the ground. His arms were fully restrained, and his legs were tied together.

The sleezy man was already in the air ready to wreak havoc, but Hado knew she couldn’t be too hasty. She had to take the others out first. “Where did Muzzle go?” The big buff man asked looking around. He turned and spotted Hado.

“Shit”

Hado pushed herself out of the way of a giant fist that swung her way. The shorter lady then spewed embers from her mouth while Hado was mid-air. Hado put as much amplitude into the waves in front of her to slow the embers down and send them flying back the direction they were thrown from. One had managed to find itself in the short woman’s hair. “AHHH! I just had my hair done!” She patted the ember out and took one last drag of her cigarette.

Hado knew she had to get to the man currently on a rampage in the middle of the city. She tried to throw a capture item at the large man first, but he caught it in his hand and crushed it into dust. “That must be his quirk. I don’t think he’s so strong he can crush matter that small…I think he can turn matter into dust without the power from his muscles” She thought still flying through the air. She couldn’t look back though. If she was fast enough, she would be able to stop the other man and then deal with the rest.

She flung herself near where the man had grown giant spider legs all protruding from his back. She was visibly disgusted, but she could handle this. He was in an area with plenty of buildings which would make it harder to take care of. Hado concentrated and created an extremely powerful soundwave that only traveled a very short distance. The end product sliced through one of the spider legs causing the man to scream out in pain. She propelled herself to the next leg and did the same thing again. More pained screams came from above.

Before she could make her way to the next leg, she felt the air begin to heat up. A lot more embers than before were flying through the air directly at her. She dodged to the left only to run into the buff man from before. He grabbed her by the arm. “I can’t let him squeeze me or else I can kiss this arm goodbye”

Hado amplified more soundwaves to push herself directly upwards. She felt a sharp pain in her shoulder and arm. The big guy was still holding on though he was confused for the moment and didn’t try to use his quirk on her. She used this moment of confusion to kick him straight in the nose. He let go and immediately put his hands on his nose.

Hado continued to fly up and was thrown straight into the man with the spider legs. Hado and the man were winded by each other and began to fall to the ground. Hado opened her eyes and tried to cushion her fall with more soundwaves. She was barely able to make them in time. She still hit the ground hard. A warmth began radiating in her side. She coughed up a bit of blood. She had enough adrenaline coursing through her that she didn’t feel the pain of her newly acquired broken rib. She stood up shakily but found herself surround by the ember woman, the large man, and the man who had grown spider legs. She was trying not to panic, trying to think of a way to take them out.

Desperate for time she concentrated and made Deku’s voice boom behind them. It was enough to make the villains shake. “Wait!” The sleezy man yelled. “This is the one that can throw her voice. That’s probably just a distraction. That hero’s no where near here right now” He pointed out. Hado cursed under her breath. Breathing was starting to get harder for her so producing anymore voices was out of the question anyway. She tried weakly to push the sleezy lanky man away only for him to be grabbed by the bigger man. “Your sound waves are getting weaker” The big man pointed out.

They started to close in on her. Walking backwards she tripped and fell. The big man stepped hard onto her right leg breaking it in an instant. She screamed out in pain. She tried again to push them away with a strong soundwave. They were barely pushed back a foot. Hado felt tears string her eyes. “Please…. not like this…..I have a town to protect” Hado almost faded out of consciousness.

Before everything got too blurry, she heard a loud yell quickly getting closer and closer. Bakugo? She tried to keep her eyes open. She thought she saw the big guy get flung incredibly far by a very specifically placed and powerful explosion. Bakugo had centered all of his energy into one spot for an extremely strong and extremely painful hit. “More heroes” the woman hissed.

Hado saw the woman try to approach her and set her on fire with an ember but she was suddenly in the air, being carried by someone. She looked up and saw Deku’s face contorted into fear and worry. Hado couldn’t hold on any longer and closed her eyes.

 Midoriya held Hado close and propped up enough to where her broken leg and broken ribs wouldn’t be damaged any more. He made his way to where he had organized a rescue area. A pro hero healer was on sight ready to take Hado and treat her. Midoriya set her down gingerly and leapt his way back into the direction of the large explosions.

Midoriya felt a pit in his stomach. The fear and worry he was feeling earlier wasn’t for Bakugo, it was for the villains Bakugo was fighting.

The only other time he had seen Bakugo this furious was when Midoriya’s own life was on the line. It was terrifying back then, and it was still terrifying now. Bakugo had grown up and become incredibly good friends with Midoriya and on several occasion Midoriya owed Bakago his life. He watched as Bakugo grew not only as a hero but also as a person. He got better at controlling his anger and redirecting that energy into his fighting. If he managed to lose control of that anger, then lots of other people would be in danger.

Midoriya rushed to the scene where Bakugo was fighting the villains. The bigger man who got shot across town was out cold. The woman who was producing the embers was also out cold on top of him. The last member of their group was in the air fighting with Bakugo. Midoriya figure that his quirk was the spider legs he had grown but now the man was moving differently. He had such precision and speed that he didn’t have 10 minutes ago. Something was definitely wrong.

Bakugo was having trouble keeping up with him and the smirk on his face was only making things worse. Strings of explosions went off in the air, but the man was untouched. Bakugo did manage to grab the man by the collar, but the man did not look worried at all. Midoriya saw him mouth something to Bakagou before Bakugo pulled is other hand in front of the villain’s face. Light started to form in his palm. He was charging up a massive explosion!

Midoriya quickly shot forward and grabbed Bakugo with one and the villain with the other. He directed Bakugo’s hand upward as an incredible explosion lit up the sky. People in the next town over could probably see it. The villain laughed maniacally and suddenly was switched out for a civilian woman. Midoriya looked over in disbelief. He looked back at Bakugo who looked like he was having a complete meltdown.

Midoriya landed on the street with both of them in hand. “I apologize for that ma’am. You should be safe now” Midoriya said to the woman releasing her. He still held Bakugo by the one arm but Bakugo had stopped moving. He was clearly at odds, shaken by the fact that a pro hero was hurt on his watch along with the fact that he had almost accidentally murdered a civilian.

“Hey dumbass! You need to cut it out before I make you”

Midoriya and Bakugo both look up at lightning speed. The voice sounded like Bakugo’s voice but weaker. They both saw Hado limping her way over to them smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world. The healer hero was running right behind her yelling for her to stop. “Thank god you two are…. okay” she weakly gets out before she starts to fall. Before she can hit the ground Bakugo catches her. “What were you thinking you idiot” he whispers harshly to her. “I could ask you the same thing” She replies quietly before passing out in his arms.

The healer motions for Bakugo to place Hado on the makeshift stretcher he set up. The healer quickly gets to work trying to stop the internal bleeding. She is then taken away in an ambulance.

Midoriya puts his hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. “She’ll be okay. She’s stronger than you think” He tries to reassure him. Bakugo swats his hand away. “I know that idiot” Bakugo chokes out. “That’s why it’s so hard to see her like this” he says quietly and walks off.

Midoriya left his friend to sort out his thoughts and went to check on his sidekick, Renova. It looked like she had rebuilt most of the destroyed buildings with her quirk. “Were there any civilians hurt?” Midoriya asked. “No. Luckily the fighting ended up in an abandoned area of town” Renova replied.

Even while he was exploding with anger, Bakugo had managed to make smart decisions and keep the town safe. Midoriya was proud of his friend.

  Midoriya knocked gently on the hospital door before letting himself in. Hado was still passed out and Bakugo was sat right there next to her with a pained expression on his face. He seemed to be apologizing under his breath. Bakugo turns to look at Midoriya with as much of a normal face as he can muster. “She needs to stay with you” he says suddenly. Midoriya, taken aback by the statement, looks at him incredulously. “I got careless about those stupid rumors. I never addressed them, and they spread. They spread to those goddamn villains who targeted both my agency and her” Bakugo admitted. Instead of questioning it, Midoriya nodded in agreement, letting Bakugo have his moment. He started to prepare arrangements for Hado.

  Hado slowly opened her eyes to see some familiar faces. “Oh thank god you’re awake” Jiro sighed, relieved to see Hado conscious. “Woah. Hey everyone” Hado says weakly. They all look like they’re about to cry. “You shouldn’t be talking right now! You need to get as much rest as you can after all that you went through” Ashido fussed.Hado just gives her a bright smile.

“What you did out there was so manly!” Kirishima interjected. Hado managed a small laugh. “Thanks. Is it also manly to have broken bones?” She joked. Kirishima looked like his tears were going to well up any moment “Your bones may be broken but your spirit clearly isn’t” he said wiping his eyes with his arms. “You did look pretty cool, but we were all really worried about you. You tried to take on 3 villains at once?! That’s a bit too much for even some of us” Ochako pipped up. Asui nodded in agreement. “Sometimes it’s better to run and let others better suited take care of the situation, gero” Asui added putting one finger up to her chin.

“Well I’m glad you’re okay because you need to start that band with Jiro here so I can be your lead guitarist” Kaminari chimed in. Hado laughed again but felt a sharp pain in her side and grabbed at it. “Dude shut up. You’re going to make her wounds worse” Sero said as he wrapped tape around Kaminari’s mouth.

Jiro leaned against her bedside and asked “So has your family come by yet? Are we the first to get you a get-well gift basket?”. She held up a basket full of fruits and set them on the table next to the bed. Hado felt her stomach sink. It wasn’t their fault. They didn’t know. She smiled again. “It would be really weird if they did considering they’ve been dead for almost 10 years now” Hado replied trying to make a dark joke out of it.

Jiro put her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t….I didn’t know” Jiro apologized. “Don’t worry about it. It’s been 10 years since it happened. I got counseling for it in high school at UA. I’ve pretty much healed from that wound” Hado explained.

For the next few minutes, they chatted like normal and it made Hado feel the slightest bit better. She was thankful to be able to call these heroes friends.

A day later Midoriya and Bakugo both stop by to check in on her. Midoriya made the same mistake of asking about her family. When she explained, he apologized profusely. She reassured him that it was alright. She noticeed Bakugo being very quiet. She turned her head to face him. “Thank you both for saving me. Thank you Bakugo for being so quick on the draw. If you hadn’t had been there, I would’ve been in much worse condition”.

“Yeah sure whatever” Bakugo mumbled.

Midoriya then told her that she would be staying at a place near his agency. “We want to try and keep your contact with the outside to a minimum” Midoriya says. Hado’s face twists in one of displeasure. It sounded like she would be on lockdown. Almost like she was grounded. Yeah, she got hurt pretty bad this time, but she wouldn’t make the same mistakes. “So, you’re just going to lock me up and expect me to be okay with this” She fought back angrily.

“Shut up you damn idiot. They’re looking for you! If you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be lucky enough to be in a hospital bed next time” Bakugo barked. Hado was taken aback by the sudden increase in volume. Through that anger she could tell he was worried about her and a small bit of guilt started to spread in her chest.

“Kaa-chan, don’t you think that was a little harsh..” Hado holds up her hand to stop Midoriya. “No no. He’s right. He usually is as I have learned this week. I’ll go along with this plan. Please just keep me updated and let me help when I can” Hado responds.

Bakugo looks up surprised by the response. Hado swears that something about his face softens but only ever so slightly. Midoriya must have seen it too because he dismisses himself from the room saying he was going to get everything ready for Hado.

Bakugo continued to sit a chair away from the bed, refusing to look at Hado.

“Hey. You can go ahead and call me a dumbass if you’d like. I was absolutely out of my element in that fight and it was stupid of me to think I could hold my own”.

“I don’t need your permission to call you a dumbass, dumbass. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. Next time you need to have a backup plan that includes dodging the enemy until help arrives. I thought you were smarter than that, damn idiot”.

“Ah you’re right. I should’ve known better. Thank you Bakugo. I know I scared you and I know you’ll never admit that. I don’t want to worry you again. You have enough on your plate as it is”.

“You’re damn right you scared me. Use that goddamn fucking brain of yours next time” Bakugo growled. Hado looked shocked. She didn’t think he would ever admit something like that to anyone. She swore she saw a tear roll down his cheek, but before she could confirm it Bakugo stood up and headed for the door. “Thanks for your work. Midoriya will take it from here”

Bakugo left the room to be met with Midoriya. “Beating yourself up isn’t going to help. She cares about you, you know?” Midoriya advises patting Bakugo on the back. Bakugo grunts as they leave the hospital.

  Chapter 5   Chapter 7

[acnhplayertwo]

Player Two's Diary.

Entry 1.

Dear diary,

Thanks Bobness I have this phone with me. Not gonna lie, I'd totally be going cuckoo without an outlet by now.

Why, you ask? Well, it's simple! Let me explain.

This utter mess began something short of one week ago, when my partner, let's call 'em S, presented me with an idea.

"Let's go away, buddy. Let's just toss this boring life behind and go somewhere new. New and fresh. Like... like the Outskirts, or-- or an island. A deserted one, maybe. Somewhere nobody knows us and none of our problems would ever be able and find us. Come on, buddy. Let's do it."

And, pal, I know not whether it was their enthusiasm, or the fact I was starting to resent my life as mayor of a lethargic town, or that we both had a glass too many of Wolfgang's homemade apple wine, but... I accepted.

I said yes.

Actually, I may have said something more than that. In my drunken haze, I remember yelling something like "OH MY BOB, THAT'S AN AWESOME IDEA AND I ALSO HAVE A FRIEND WHO TOLD ME HE'D TAKE ON A DEAERTED ISLAND BUSINESS AND CAN YOU BELIEVE THE COINCIDENCE HAHA, LET ME CALL THAT OL' RASCAL NOOK!"

And that was it, dear diary. In the span of an our we had traded our entire life's savings for a couple tickets to Nowhere.

But it wasn't that bad at first. I was actually psyched. "You go first, S!", I said. "You go and prepare a cozy spot for us. I'll reach you in three days tops."

And so we did. The next day, S kissed me goodbye, nothing but a backpack on their shoulders and hope in their eyes. "Plane's departing soon. I'll be waiting for you in our lives' next chapter, buddy."

So they went, while I stayed. I had too much stuff to do still, what with signing my temporary resignment as town mayor, packing up, saying goodbye to my citizens.

Then, 48 hours later, there I was, waiting to hop aboard on one of Dodo Airlines' rickety machines.

"Oh my, you won't believe how perfect it is here!" S' voice crackled assaulted my ears with a mix of squawking happiness and bad reception through my phone's speaker. "Weather is marvellous, and Sakura's are bloomin' and and and everything is just SO PERFECT!! There's so much stuff to do, and things to craft, and everyone is just SO DEAR!! They even threw a welcome party for the first residents, and there were confetti, and juice, and even a BONFIRE!!"

I found myself smiling as I left my old life behind and flew through the skies that would lead me to a brand new one. But my smile soon faltered as I stepped off the plane and onto Sleepwalk Island's wooden dock.

"Oh, you here. Finally. Fearless Leader's waiting for you."

"Allright," I thought as I followed Tim ad Tommy’s fuzzy shadows across the island and into a green tent, “they have never been the friendly type, but... is a hug really too much to ask?” I ignored my disappointment, telling myself that they must have been busy, like they always are, and let my face melt in a huge smile as I breathed in the familiar musk of wood and tanuki fur. 

“PT!! Such a pleasure to see you here, yes yes!“ Tom rushed towards me, paws extended, his eyes nothing more than a couple happy slits. “I heard of your arrival and boy, I couldn’t wait! Here, drink something and make yourself at home...“ He slapped a can of soda in my open hand and began explaining me the hows and whys of his new business venture, nodding with his usual verve. “... and from this terminal here you can order anything you want and have it shipped right at your door-- ahem, tent step! Isnt’ it great??“

I smiled, knowing full well there was nothing I could say or do to stop his tirade. “And look! This is my new workbench! You can use it anytime, and-- let me show you how it’s done!“

Twenty minutes later, I stepped back out into the morning sun, arms heavy with Nook’s patented survival bundle, head buzzing with info. 

“Awesome! I will repay this trifle of a loan by nighttime, and after that, this island will be mine! Oh boy, I can’t wait! It’s gonna be so rad!“ 

Or so I thought. 

Reality, in fact, was soon to smack me in the face. Hard.

You see, S had told me all about how they had been able to trade bugs and fish for much-needed DiY recipes. “And you’ll be able to craft lotsa useful stuff, like axes, and you’ll need those to find wood and get stones and iron from rocks and build so much amazing objects-- I just can’t even!!“

So, understandably, I was all set to seize the occasion and do the same. 

That afternoon, I stepped into Nook’s headquarters with a bucket of fish, looking forward to my bright future as Sleepwalk’s craftmaster, when...

“Oh. I see. well, buddy, I’m afraid I can’t help you at this time,“ Tom said, avoiding my gaze and preferring to stare at one of my flapping mackerels instead.

“What d’you mean?,“ I asked, wiping the sweat from my surprised face.

“Well, it’s kinda embarrassing, but...“ Tom scratched his head before continuing. “You see, every other person no this island came in here, trading their critters for recipes, and... there were more people than I expected and I didn’t take into account this possibility and...“ He sighed. “...I’m all out. I have no more recipes to give you, buddy. Sorry ‘bout that.“

I blinked more times than needed. 

“But... what am I supposed to do now?“

Tom shrugged. 

“You can still sell your catch to scrounge up a few bells, I suppose. Or you could keep some fish as pet, I dunno.“

“Yes, no, what I mean is...“ I looked around and gestured to the outside world.

“What am I supposed to do?!“

Tom cocked his head and bit his lip. Then, unexpectedly, he flashed me the biggest smile in the universe.

“It’s simple! ENJOY LIFE!“

He slid an arm around my shoulders and began dragging me towards the exit.

“You can fish some more, gather branches and craft a bug net, or-- or or, ehm, take pictures! Yes yes, pictures are nice, you can post them on Twitter and make all your friends jealous, and then Ireallyhavenoideaso GOODBYE FOR NOW!“

And just like that, he shoved me and my broken heart out of his tent and back into Sleepwalk Island’s untamed wilderness. 

Needless to say, I was dumbfounded. 

Still, I couldn’t stop now. I still had a debt to repay.

So, I took a deep breath and lunged into my activities. 

I spent the entire day fishing, and fishing, and catching bugs, and picking fruit, until the sun set, and the fresh night breeze began freezing the sweat on my skin.

I was beyond exhausted, dirty and disheartened. But I was ready, and, most importantly, furious.

The moon was high in the sky when I stepped into Tom’s tent, and found him alone, beer in hand, a stack of paperwork under his muzzle.

“Nook,“ I announced, voice low and gravelly with rage, “check your phone.“

“Oh, PT! I didn’t see you the--“

“Check. Your. Phone.“

I stared at him as he obeyed.

“Ah. Your debt is settled, I see! Now we can think about building you a home proper, yes yes!“ He was trying to hide his embarrassment behind a thin layer of businesslike enthusiasm, but I wasn’t having it.

“Yes, I want my roof blue, thank you. But that is not why I am here.“

I sat on a stool beside him and spread my fingers on his desk.

“Now listen closely, Nook. I did everything you told me. I spent the entire day chasing bugs and I caught so much fish I will stink like one for a month. Then, I took pictures. I took so many my thumbs are sore, and people are wondering wether I am planning to become a professional photographer. And now, here I am, same as when I started, doing ZERO progress cause guess what?!“ I could hear my voice raising in volume, but could do nothing to stop it. “There is nothing to do on this island. Nothing. I can’t craft anything, cause there’s no recipes. And even if I did, I couldn’t craft, or build anything, cause there are no materials for me to gather. But tell me the truth, Tom. This isn’t the same for everybody, is it? No... these things are happening to me and me only. Cause there is nothing for me to do on this island. Ain’t it the truth, Tom?“

When the raccoon looked at me, he did it with his saddest eyes.

“Alright, PT, yes. You want the truth, you shall have it.“

He drew a long, shaky breath and tossed me a beer.

“You see, bud, Sleepwalk is an island. And until not long ago, a deserted one at that.“ He cleared his voice before resuming.

“So, yeah. There isn’t much here. Literally. Resources are awfully scarce. And in order to thrive, you need as much as you can get your paws on, and at times, even that isn’t enough. Sure, people here might seem kind and friendly. But truth is, we’re all locked in a constant fight for survival. Every single one of us. Never forget that.“

“But... But I...“

But I am the mayor, I wanted to yell.

“You are the second human relocator, my friend. It’s a first come first served world, buddy... and you, I’m afraid, arrived a bit late.“

I do not remember walking out of that tent and into the darkness. 

I don’t even remember how I ended up on the beach.

All I know, is that I did not sleep last night, busy as I was hugging my tear-soaked knees, wrestling with that crushing realization. 

The realization that, on this island, I will never be anything more than... Player Two.

[thedistantstorm]

Day 10: “Listen, I can’t explain it, you’ll have to trust me.”

Fandom: Destiny

Pairing: Hawthorne/Zavala

Warnings: Executor Hideo is still a jerk. Emotions.

-/

Suraya Hawthorne only lies to him about one thing.

Until that point, she had been open and honest, committed to working with him. They had gotten to talking about the City and the lands outside of it and he had been curious. How old was she when she stepped into the wilds from the safe harbor of the City? Seventeen, she'd said. His eyes narrowed on her, and she looked away. 

Lie. She was younger. 

How long did she prepare? Oh, for a while, she brushed him off. Generalizing to prevent herself from lying to him further because he, she’d learned and learned quick, would know. She’s intelligent, but he’s unlike many she’s dealt with. She kept up with his moves, tried to change the subject.

Zavala let her do it, maneuvered around the conversation skillfully, patient. When they came full circle, as he’d masterfully planned, he asked her one question. 

“Why?”

She plays it off coolly, almost with a Hunter’s sense of comedic self-depreciation. "I wanted to see what was out there. Y'know, just stretch my legs."

"Really?" He asks, interested. Gut churning.

"Yeah."

"There’s more to it than that,” He presses a bit further, touch and go.

She nods. The movement is too fast. She's blinking more. This answer will be flippant and generalized. "What is there to say? There’s a great big world out there, Zavala. The City is only a tiny part of it.”

The Commander does not push her. There is an animal sort of desperation laced into her posture, an anxiety that coils in the darkness of her gaze.

It’s enough intel to form a working theory: Suraya Hawthorne did not leave the Last City entirely by choice.

-/

When she comes into the Farmhouse, he watches her shrink back. Two men in red stand beside him, speaking in hushed tones of the survivors of New Monarchy. They pause, only to look at her with open disdain.

“Is something the matter?” Zavala asks, careful to keep neutrality in his tone.

“Nothing at all,” They reply. After that, they talk softer with her down at the other end of their makeshift command center, and when they leave, he hears one of them say something as they pass her. Even if he hadn’t heard what it was, the tone is soft and scathing.

“What did they say to you?” He asks.

She shakes her head. “Nothing important.”

Zavala coughs, deciding to try and untangle what he can. “It sounded like a slur.”

“It wasn’t.” Lie.

“New Monarchy is safe in a western portion of the City. They have bunkers, supplies, food. Their scouts monitor the flight patterns and do their best to stay hidden. Their casualties seem to be relatively low.”

Suraya nods. “Good.”

“They made the insinuation that they tried to make contact before,” He mentions, when she returns to looking at a map and he’s pretending to check inventory of available munitions.

Tense isn’t the right word to describe her posture. Uneasy or wary are better more appropriate, he thinks. “They did reach out,” She hedges, speaking quietly. 

“And?”

“I offered to setup evac.”

“And?”

“They refused.” She’s looking out the window now. Thinking about how she can escape.

“Why?”

She shakes her head. Does not look at him. She’s hiding something. “You’d be better off asking them. They seemed rather chummy with you.”

She does not speak to him for the rest of the day, and the entirety of the one after that. His gut tingles.

This response is local to New Monarchy. She deals with FWC and Dead Orbit nearly daily, without issue.

-/

When she comes around following her walk in on his briefing by New Monarchy’s field scouts, he tries again, asking her why she left the City.

She walls herself off completely. 

“I need to know, Suraya,” He tries, watching her in earnest. Pleading with her on a personal level rather than professional.

“I already told you.”

“You were lying and we both know it,” Zavala scoffs. “The truth. Please.”

Hawthorne shakes her head, and instead of anger, defensiveness - as he expects - she surprises him. She only sounds tired. “Listen, I can’t explain it.” She closes her eyes. “You’ll have to trust me.”

She does not expect him to stop there. It's clear she's drawing a line before he starts banging on the walls she's drawn around her heart. She underestimates his patience, and clearly is not used to her limits being respected. He has to give in order to get.

It's fair, he thinks. After all, look what she's giving to everyone. She, someone who left the City, who has no desire to return (she'd been honest there), did return in their darkest hour. She's been doing so much good, and fighting so hard to keep them all safe and be a good, inspiring leader.

"Okay," Zavala answers, careful not to let anything that might insinuate irritation bleed into his voice. "I won't pry."

His eyes search hers, and somehow, that crippling anxiety he sees reflected in them is only worsened by his acquiescing. He has some ideas about that, with regards to her. 

She's afraid of making attachments to people, he gathers. She's been alone for a long time. Cooperation, communication, trust… it sounds almost like friendship. Falcon excluded, she does not have companions. She expects to leave or be left - he's not sure which upsets her more - after this war is over. This distance she keeps, this social awkwardness (to an extent), this aloof persona… it's all a defense mechanism.

-/

Months later, Suraya only accepts his offer of a position within the City hierarchy for those she would be serving, guilted by their people's pleading. He does not love the idea that she does it out of guilt, but another leader not obsessed with power is a boon they will always need. 

Their first Consensus meeting falls on a cold, rainy day that reminds him far too much of Towerfall.

Even so, decisions must be made. Tower reconstruction is to be abandoned in lieu of reappropriation of space and resources to a more habitable part of the wall. Whatever could be salvaged, would be salvaged eventually, but the majority of the structure is not safe for exploration much less removal of weighty supplies.

"Next order of business is appointing a new member of our council," He explains to the room. "It was agreed upon that we required a Clan liaison to consult both the Vanguard and City Government with the massive rise in unionization amongst the population in its entirety. Formally, that ambassador would become a member of the Consensus."

"New Monarchy objects," Hideo immediately presses, even though he knows Zavala is not done speaking. "I know who you want, and we do not want that woman's ideas in our City. She is an outsider. She is not needed here."

"And why is that? Your nose still sore?" Lakshmi says, with narrowed optics. Arach Jalal laughs beside her. "I oppose, but not because I'm afraid someone will find out my underhanded dealings," She and the Arach share matching - as much as Lakshmi's build will let her - grins.

“Now, now,” Jalaal croons, “He’s the one who threw her out, so of course he doesn’t want her back in.”

Ikora looks to Zavala, Hideo scoffs but swallows hard, and Cayde smacks his palm on the table because he'd lost control of his motor skills as he'd nodded off Zavala isn’t sure he’d feel better about things if Hideo lied, trying to deny it. The Executor’s flippancy makes his blood boil.

-/

It's like an avalanche, the way his feelings all seem to roll downhill, landing squarely on his back, dragging him down with them. This is a rarity, that he doesn't know which of his emotions to feel first, only that they're demanding to be felt with a vigor he's not used to.

Normally, he'd will himself to control and then speak. But what comes out is a rolling thunderclap of, "He exiled you!"

"He didn't."

Zavala is beyond uncomfortable. He's furious. Furious the City - his City - failed her. The City he's spent centuries protecting. The City that was torn down by enemies in an instant. 

The City they'd never have been able to reclaim without her.

"Look," She says, sounding tired. How many times has she played this conversation out in her mind, he wonders, "I'd been thinking about leaving, he just forced my hand."

"You weren't even the age of majority. It's unethical. Immoral You might have known what you wanted but you shouldn't have been able to make that choice. You were a child."

"I understand that," Suraya agrees, "But-"

The real issue isn't what's been done. That cannot be changed, it's happened, etched into time without the ability to go back and change it. No, the real issue is something else entirely. 

"Why didn't you tell me? Why lie about it?"

"I am who I am, Zavala," She says, and those deep dark eyes land on him, rooting him to the spot. "I wanted your trust because of what my decisions made me. Not because you felt bad. I'm proud of my choices. Even the dumb ones." Her lips turn into a smile, and how she finds grace in this moment astounds him. He's just so, so- 

"Don't be angry on my behalf," Suraya urges him. It's like something between them shifts, has shifted. They aren't who they were back when this was a war for survival. They are more. "Just don't let him do it to someone else."

"Help me do that," He manages, hoarse, unable to look away from the openness of her gaze. 

She nods, and he sees her usual sarcasm smothered by sincerity. A metaphorical wall between them destroyed. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Thankfully," He admits, equally as honest. Her shoulders come back and her chest rises, as if she's been pulled to full height by an invisible thread. Confident. 

It strikes pride into his chest to be the one to make her feel this way. He endeavors to do it more often.

[emberwolves69]

Chapter 5:  Rage & Determination

"Damn it!"

There was the sound of glass shattering as Chara threw a bottle at the farthest wall in his anger. He couldn’t believe any of this. It had been a little over a week since the monsters had taken Frisk and had been able to completely overrun the men that he had led in to push them back into monster territory. They had lost a good number of men to the monsters and it did nothing but help fuel his rage .

"How is it that with as many resources as we have that we cant find one fucking woman?! In a place that is currently full of nothing but monsters no less!" Chara knew that it wasn’t really the fault of the people he was yelling at, their only real crime here was just being in the same area as him when his rage came out full force. But in over a week there had been no results at all, no one had seen anything of the skeletons nor Frisk.  How was that even possible? Chara really didn’t know and he hated not knowing. It made him feel weak and that was something he really couldn’t stand. It was why he had joined the mafia in the first place. Why he had worked so hard to prove himself and raise in the ranks. It had taken years to do but here he was and none of it was helping him in the slightest

"Boss we have questioned everyone. The last anyone saw of the gal was when ya faced off with the skeleton." One of the men around him said for what had to be the hundredth time. But it hadn't helped yet and there was a chance that it never would. At least not until Frisk was back.

Chara slowly took a breath and forced himself to sit. He needed to calm down and clear his head if he was going to be any help to Frisk. "Alright what do we know for what happened that  night? I want to know every move of those skeletons from the moment they entered our territory."

Chara spent the next hour or so listening to what was known. And as far as he could tell there wasn’t a single way for them to have gotten Frisk out of there and been back so soon. 'Unless they are hiding her somewhere close.' the voice in his head said but he quickly pushed it back. There was no way that would have happened. Especially because of the fight. If the monsters had lost then there would have been a bigger problem. Since they wouldn't have any chance to collect their new prisoner nor would it have made it any easier to find Frisk.

Chara was ready to throw something else, break something, or better yet shoot something but right before he could act on any of those violent wants he remembered something. Something that he hadn't fully remembered before thanks to the fighting and how quick everything had been happening. "The short one. It was able to vanish completely." Chara said calmer than he had been before. "When the group I was with shot at it and would have hit, it vanished and must have been able to go somewhere else."

The men in the room looked at each other and then back to Chara. "We have never heard of a monster being able to do that before. Don’t you think something that big would have been known right away?"

Chara knew that it would have been. "If anyone ever saw it. Those monsters usually hold their ground or build walls with their magic to protect themselves from our bullets. But this time it didn’t."

Usually the walls would block their sight from the monsters but this time the skeleton was gone before there was the wall of bones. And of course not long after it was discovered that all three of the skeletons were there for the fight. Just dealing with one was challenging enough, two could take on a small army it seemed, but all three together. That was something that no one could go against.

Chara wasnt ignorant when it came to these particular monsters. He knew that they were dangerous. They had split from the original Don of the monsters, taken some land and started to build from there. More than that as far as he knew they had never lost a fight. That would mostly be due to their ability to seem to predict everything that they did. It was uncanny how no matter what they did the monsters always seemed to know about it and were able to counter it.

No one knew exactly how the monsters were able to do it. If it weren't for the fact that a monster would stand out so much one might suspect a traitor. It was something that Chara had even looked into a few times wondering if the monsters hadn't found a way to disguise themselves. But try as he might nothing turned up.

But that wasn't the current issue right now he had to figure out where Frisk was and if he wasn't able to he wasn't sure what they would do to her. He knew that Frisk wouldn't fight she was always too soft for that. And he knew that would make it all the easier for the monsters to do whatever they want to her. " We need to figure out exactly where they took her no matter what that is our first priority. Once we find her we will also be able to gather some information about these monsters and about their Don. If we have to kill them all we will and so help me the City will be covered in their dust."

Chara stood up and walked away from the table he had been sitting at for hours. He was still worried and he knew that time was running short. The skeleton brothers were not known to be kind if anything they were known for their extreme cruelty especially to humans. If he didn't find Frisk he feared that they would kill her, and he could not let that happen.

" I will save you Frisk no matter what."

                                                       ~=~

Frisk wasn't sure how long she had been here exactly, she knew that I'd been at least a couple days by now. After the first interrogation the a skeleton and mostly left her alone. In fact she only ever saw any of them when they would bring her food or when the short one would come to mess with her. She was usually a very patient person but somehow that particular skeleton was able to get under her skin easily.

And unfortunately she knew that he would be showing up soon. He always did and no matter how much she tried to ignore him he always seemed to find a new way to make her react.

Frisk was looking through the books to find something decent to read. There wasn't much else to do while she waited for... something. She wasn't sure what she thought would happen or even what would happen, but she kept hope that as long as she didn't give up everything will be fine and she could go back to her normal life.

" whatcha lookin for sweetheart?"

Frisk jumped at the sudden sound behind her she knew that Sans could just appear and disappear at what seemed like any moment, but that still didn't make it any easier to deal with. She spun around and looked at the skeleton who was laughing while sitting on the couch.

" what's wrong dollface? You look like you're about to jump out of your skin."

Frisk glared and turned her back to the skeleton once more. " I thought I told you to use the door like a normal, civilized, person." Frisk said giving the skeleton a firm glare. This only seemed to amuse him more than scaring her did, and she hated it. Even more so when he caused a knocking sound at the door. She knew it was him because not one of the skeleton brothers knocked before coming in. Sans was the only one who didn't use the door at all. That meant that Frisk didn't get any warning with his visits. At least with the others she could mentally prepare herself for them. Gaster usually just did little check ups to make sure she was behaving and not doing anything that might kill her, after all she wasn’t any good to them dead. Papyrus was generally only bringing food for her or came to drag Sans out saying that there was work to be done. Sans on the other hand came the most often and the only clear reason for his visits was to piss her off and make her uncomfortable.

"It doeant help when you are already in here." Frisk said before turning her back on him once more. She could hear a chuckle from him and right before she could grab a random book and retreat to the bedroom, a place that thankfully the brothers didn't usually enter, she felt a familiar weight on her chest a moment before she was pulled back and into Sans' arms. She had come to understand that this was Sans' magic and he could move her to where ever he wanted. Another thing that she didn’t like about him. She had no control it felt whenever he was there after all how could she when he could, quite literally it seemed, force her to do anything with a simple wave of his hand.

"Let go of me!" Frisk snapped using her anger to hide the fear that she felt. She was sure that he knew that she freaked out on some level whenever he did this and she was sure that it was why he kept doing it. He enjoyed scaring her and reminding her just how powerless she really was here. Why? She had no clue and she wished that she could stop it.  But as always her attempts to stop it were met with a chuckle and him holding her tighter.

"Aww come on now sweetheart yer gonna freeze my bones being that cold. " Sans said with a shit eating grin on his face. But that always seemed to be there.

"Can't be any worse than the cold from that frozen heart of yours. So let go!"

Sans chuckled a bit  and just seemed to hold on tighter and Frisk felt that strange weight of his magic get even heavier making it nearly impossible for her to do anything other than wiggle in his grasp.

"Now now sweetheart is that any way to talk to the person who makes sure ya got some company every day?" Sans asked and Frisk could feel the smirk on his face, one that she really wanted to smack off at the moment and she wasn’t normally one for violence of any kind.

"Your company is one that I could do without." She said before finally being able to move her arm enough to elbow him fairly hard in the ribs. She heart grunt from him at the same moment that the weight disappeared and Frisk wasted no time forcing herself away from Sans and practically sprinting to the room. She let out shaky breath the moment that she got the door shut feeling that she was safe in there.

She was wrong.

As Frisk turned around she felt her heart sink and fear grip her as she saw a thoroughly pissed off Sans standing in the middle of the room. Frisk turned to rush back out but before her hand could even touch the doorknob she felt the weight of Sans' magic right as she was yanked back and slammed into the far wall. Frisk gasped as he air was knocked out of her and her vision swam. She hadn't had any time to prepare herself for the impact and so hadn't been able to do anything to lessen the blow to her head.

"now that wasn’t real nice dollface. I just wanted a friendly talk and apparently that was too much for ya." Sans growled as he stalked towards. It was when he was only a couple feet from her that she realized that she wasn’t touching the ground at all. Her feet were dangling at least a couple feet off of the ground and worse than that was that the pressure from his magic was so strong at the moment that she wasn’t able to move at all. She wasn’t even able to flinch anymore than squeezing her eyes shut as his hand came out towards her. Frisk could feel her heart racing and was pretty sure that anyone within a mile of her would be able to hear it as well with how loud it seemed in that moment.

"Looks like I'm gonna be needin to teach ya some manners." Sans growled sending chills all through Frisk's body.  "And I am going to enjoy every second of it."

                          _______________________________

                          _______________________________

[[First]] – [[Previous]] – [[Next]] 

[adelth]

Signs of Life

It’s mermay! I love me some mermay! (But honestly I’ve got too many WIPs to start another one) Luckily, I remembered I had a 2k ficlet that technically qualifies sitting around on my drive. I don’t think this will ever be a full story, maybe a series of one-shots once I finally wrap up some of my other projects. If that doesn’t scare you off, here’s my very sci-fi contribution to the fine tradition of writing about mermaids in may.

Title: Signs of Life Rating: T Warnings: one vicious swear? Relationship: Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov Summary: Victor Nikiforov just needed a place to repair his ship, but landing on a long-abandoned planet leads to discovering the mystery of its sole remaining inhabitant.

“No,” said Victor, eyeing the warning that flashed across his center console with dismay. “No, no, no. Don’t do this right now.” The console responded by chiming out a stall warning, in contradiction to the overspeed alarm that was still active, and the fact that a stall was impossible outside of an atmosphere anyway.

Already suspecting the source of the error, Victor turned off the autopilot. The alarms silenced themselves, but his brow didn’t unknit. He reached up to flip the switch for his secondary autopilot to take over, a partitioned backup to the system that was currently failing. The alarms immediately started up again, this time including a particularly shrill siren that warned of a hull breach. He’d only just managed to slap it into silence when a truly dire dangerous terrain message came blinking across his viewport, though apparently only the midship attitude control sensors could tell he was about to slam into some catastrophic obstacle.

Victor growled a credible impression of a Hexxii curse his favorite techmonger was fond of. The language wasn’t particularly friendly to human vocal cords, but Victor had a bit more leeway than most in what he could pronounce. He wasn’t entirely sure what the expletive meant, truthfully, but based on usage he’d gathered that it was more or less equivalent to “motherfucker.”

Perhaps due to the circumstances of his exposure, it had become Victor’s customary reprimand when hardware failed him at inconvenient moments. Inconvenient but not disastrous he reminded himself. At least it was one of the sensory control modules that had gone haywire, and he wasn’t actually at risk of sudden decompression or crashing into a non-existent terrain feature.

Theoretically Victor could still finish his journey if he was willing to pilot the whole way manually, but that would make for a very long trip. He was flying single-handed, as was his preference, and even he could only go so long without sleep. He’d lose time looking for a safe place to berth, on top of the time he actually spent sleeping. He also wouldn’t be able to travel through the most convenient spaceports, where traffic control mandated the use of autopilot to prevent accidents.

He slouched back in his seat, blowing his bangs out of his face as he stretched his legs. He wasn’t stiff, neither he nor the pilot’s station were designed for that, but the stretch still felt good.

Taking a long moment to gaze through his viewport, he let himself be entranced by distant pinpricks of light while he reminded himself why he traveled this way, instead of in one of his parent’s well-staffed schooners.

He reached across the small flight deck and tapped his fingers against the hull of his ship, a reinforced strut just within reach. Titanium alloy over a high carbon nano-ceramic, warm fingers against cold metal. Withdrawing the hand, he set a finger against his own mouth; the texture was soft and giving this time, warmth against warmth.

He discarded the thought of calling his family for help.

On balance, these were his options: he could take the long way home, he could suit up for an EVA, or he could find a place to land and do this the easy way. There’d been a similar failure not long after he’d purchased the cruiser, and he’d replaced the entire module not five years ago. Aware that the three other modules were still original, he made a point of carrying a mostly built spare, ready to be modified as a replacement as needed.

Still, although he had an electron beam gun on board, he wasn’t eager to try welding in a hard vacuum. He’d much rather land somewhere with enough of an atmosphere to make a more conventional arc weld viable. Better yet, he’d like a garage where he could just pay someone else to do the work, but he was a long way from that kind of amenity.

There wasn’t a planet chartered for habitation within several days travel, he knew that already. Humans hadn’t claimed so very many worlds that they were hard to keep track of just yet. There was a siderophilic asteroid mining operation, but unless they were feeling very accommodating, they weren’t going to help him. It was more than likely a fully automated enterprise anyway, without even disgruntled employees he could bribe. His techmonger had opinions about the kind of law-skirting that happened on the far edges of civilization, where obscure businesses might avoid either decommissioning or emancipating the almost-AIs they relied on for decades.

Changing his parameters as he flipped through the ship’s directory, Victor started looking for any nearby planet that might suit his needs. His new search brought up Proxima-b, a rocky planet with a breathable atmosphere, which looked to have gone uncolonized due to the 200 km deep ocean that covered the entirety of its surface. It was tidally locked, one face continually scorched by close proximity to its sun, so tight was its orbit around the small red dwarf.

His cruiser was reasonably versatile, but it didn’t have pontoons. If Proxima-b was entirely undeveloped, he would have to move on. That said, there was a long expired commercial exploration charter attached to the planet. Very long expired, Victor realized, hunching forward with interest. The project had been abandoned almost 200 years ago, and given where they’re located…

Scanning through the registry, Victor sought out the corporation that had filed the charter, and cross checked the dates. He whistled in appreciation. Proxima-b had been claimed for exploration by interests located on Earth, back when it would have taken 20 years for a spacecraft to travel between the two. It must have been one of the first commercial planetary charters on record. They’d gone all that way… to harvest semiconductors and dopants?

And here Victor had been under the impression that platinum group metals had been the elements sought out by space’s first prospectors.

The now defunct venture seemed to have been focused on boron in particular, which was downright odd. Chemically uncombined, elemental boron was only found on Earth in small amounts deposited by meteoroids, and might well have been worth mining. What could have been extracted from the waters of Proxima-b, however, seemed unlikely to differ all that much from what could have been extracted from Earth’s own oceans.

Astrobiologists, on the other hand, had a decided interest in extraterrestrial boron. When combined with water it became borate, which stabilized ribose in a way that made the formation of RNA, and therefore the storage and replication of genetic information, possible.

It was, in short, a sign of life.

Victor hesitated to assign motives to people who lived centuries ago, but a for-profit enterprise secretly seeking out proto-life seemed dubious. Maybe it was easier to do so as a resource management company than a research firm for some reason? Victor had little knowledge of contemporaneous space travel policy, only lingering disquiet.

Why Proxima-b had been abandoned, at least, wasn’t mysterious at all; intense solar flares were eating through the atmosphere. That wasn’t entirely surprising behavior from a red dwarf like Proxima Centauri, but having the brightness of the star suddenly increase by a factor of 1000 during a massive flare certainly was. For a span of seconds Proxima-b had a sun 10 times brighter than Earth’s own, and that had been enough to scare the prospectors away. They’d been planning to build their operation on the dark side on the planet, but no one wanted to be exposed to that kind of radiation.

Happily, they looked to have left a landing platform and maintenance facilities behind, the bare beginnings of a testing site. They’d be ancient, but all Victor needed was somewhere to land. Repairs would only take an hour or two, and the chances of Proxima Centauri happening to do something unfortunate during that time were minimal. Cautiously optimistic, Victor charted a course and engaged his thrusters.

~

Victor had been prepared, been half expecting even, to have to scupper his plan. There was every chance the centuries-old facilities on Proxima-b would be unusable, left to the seaworld’s irradiating flares and briny fathoms.

Instead, they looked pristine. They weren’t modern, they didn’t look like they’ve been updated in 200 years, but they’d been assiduously maintained.

Victor almost forwent landing, worried he was about to drop into a very cleanly smugglers nest. His sensors weren’t detecting any lifeforms, but he wasn’t entirely confident they were to be trusted given his current troubles. The landing pad was right there though, and truthfully Victor was loath to leave the mystery unprobed.

The landing itself was uneventful, save for the moment the platform lit up to welcome his arrival. He’d nearly pulled up in shock, but the process seemed automatic, rather than a herald of hostile intent.

He armed himself before leaving the ship, taking time to poke around the floating base before beginning his repair. There wasn’t much to it, besides the landing pad, there was a combined hanger and workroom, along with a barebones office and washroom. There weren’t even bunks, though he supposed cots might be stored somewhere. The whole structure rolled with the waves below, nearly sending Victor tumbling more than once.

He was testing the shower, which somehow still ran fresh water, when a loud creak from the workroom made him snap to attention. It was followed by a heavy clang, which sent shivers snaking up Victor’s spine. There was nowhere to hide - the shower didn’t even have a curtain - and he couldn’t go for his gun without being terribly obvious. Caught out, he raised his hands and turned slowly around.

Whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t an equally stunned man half protruding through a hatch in the floor, dark hair wet and chest naked. They both stared for moment, then the stranger nearly sent himself back down the hatch he flinched so hard.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t…I didn’t.” He stopped, looking up at Victor as if he was the inexplicable element in the room. “I didn’t think anyone was coming.”

Without giving Victor a chance to come to terms with his own confusion, the stranger began hoisting himself onto the platform. Victor got a brief view of skin moving over flexing muscle, before being entirely distracted by the black tentacle that infiltrated through the hatch to grip a handhold on the wall and help pull the…man…through.

He didn’t have legs. What came through the hatch after the man’s torso was a mess of thick, black, prehensile coils. Victor had a hard time keeping track of what they were all doing, but one reached out to close the hatch behind the man as he moved away, familiar with the space and how to navigate it.

He bustled around - opened a locker here, replaced something in a drawer there - incredibly industrious with his many limbs. It had the distinct air of nervous busy-work, which alleviated some of Victor’s fear, if not his shock.

“I tried to keep everything running, but I’ve had to prioritize essential systems. I ran out of containers for samples, so it made sense to cannibalize the testing equipment for parts. I know it was expensive, but not even my batteries can be recharged indefinitely, and I’ve lost more than half the solar panels to weather and wear.” The man didn’t look at Victor as he spoke, half facing away to monitor his tentacles working.

“What are you?” Victor asked, perhaps insensitively, but unable to parse through his confusion to find any other question.

The man slowly put down the screwdriver he’d been holding, transferring it from hand to tentacle to workbench. He turned his head, one eye meeting Victor’s over his bare shoulder. His eye was brown and normal, but the pupil rapidly swelled and shrunk twice, dilating in a way that was thoroughly artificial. His torso sagged, even the tentacles seemed to wilt.

Then he was gone, back down the hatch in a rush of black, without even saying a word.

[neeksleep]

Day 6: Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town

               There was a long time where simulation or simulation-like games held no appeal to me. I tried getting into the Sims games or Tycoon Games, but they never stuck. Either they get far too complicated for me to commit to or I’d just find the god-mode option, wreak havoc and be done with it. That’s where Harvest Moon changed things up. I hadn’t played any of the Harvest Moon games until the GBA release, and even then, I didn’t really have a good idea as to what the game really was. I knew it was a farming game and there were adorable cows. Beyond that, I didn’t know how the mechanics worked and I certainly didn’t know how addicting the series could be. The more modern take on the series, Stardew Valley takes a lot of queues from the Harvest Moon series and improves on them, but it’s fun to revisit what makes the series fun.

Save the Tomatoes!

               I have never felt more stressed about crops than waking up in-game, seeing a hurricane in the forecast and panicking all my hard organization farm work was about to be destroyed. While in other games, your concern comes from taking damage and losing your health, Harvest Moon has you worrying about making enough money to let your farm grow through seasonal crops, new barn animals and tools that help you speed up the farming process. The space for your crops is large though you will need to clean it up at the start of the game or after the occasional storms. The day is short, and the seasons pass every 30 days, so optimizing your work is key to raking in as much cash as possible. Planting your crops requires you to water every spot you’ve planted them and using the wrong equipment or running over them will prevent them from growing. At the beginning of the game, this can be a slow process, but over time you’re able to build objects that will help automate the process. And this is just speaking about crops. It gets just as complicated when you start raising animals.

               Even with all the complications, farming is a relatively relaxing process. I spent several in-game days meticulously organizing the crops and fences and paths for what worked best for me. Being able to water my crops in the morning, collect everything, go to the bin and sell them all while still being able to do the non-farming things was an enjoyable process. Getting the equipment upgrades was a good enough incentive to keep a steady flow of income coming in as it not only made farming easier, they shiny new equipment looked nice! However, farming is an aspect of the game that I would say isn’t the actual pull of the game. Its there to facilitate the rest of the game.

Marry Me! I have Wine!

               The part of the game that kept me going were the friends in Mineral Town. The NPCs in town offer side-quests and relationship building. Most of it comes down to giving them certain items until they befriended you, but that also meant I was looking forward to the seasons where I could grow a specific crop or buy a specific item.  just so I could raise a friendship level. And although the NPCs follow every known trope, the conversations were interesting enough at the time to want to keep talking to them. Each NPC has their own birthdays which I had written down on some pieces of paper, and there are special events held throughout the year. They were usually just instances where everyone in town was gathered in an area with some basic dialogue followed by a cutscene of whatever the event was for. I want to reiterate, this wasn’t anything mind-blowing or particularly new, it was just something to look forward to and gave me a reason to keep my farm running.

And then there was the part of the game that let you marry a resident of Mineral Town. I chose Karen mainly because I had amounted so much money, I could keep buying wine from her own store and give it to her. Did I exploit that? Yes. Do I feel bad? Not at all. Somewhere, on a game cart somewhere, Karen and my character are still raising their un-aging child.

Digging, Fishing, Chopping

               Finally, beyond the farm, there are tons of resources to gather. You could go fishing in one of the different lakes or rivers and work your way up to catching some rare legendary fish. You could chop down a whole bunch of trees until you have enough wood to upgrade your house and build farm structures. Or you could take on the mines, which are probably the real challenge of the game. Going deeper into the mines requires careful management of your stamina and time. If you don’t come stocked up with enough recovery items, you’ll be too exhausted to continue, though you still want to have enough room to keep the treasures you find. You also can’t go too slow, or else you’ll slip past your automatic bedtime, which ends up wasting another day as your character is negatively affected for the next little while. I enjoyed spending a few days to prepare the resources to try and get as deep into the mine as possible. It wasn’t stressful per se, but it was satisfying when I could test out new ways to go deeper into the mines and come back with some very valuable treasures.

 In Conclusion…

               Do you like the idea of light farming simulation with light relationship building and a compact world full of mildly interesting things to find? Then this might be a game for you. It has minor management and problem solving as you try and prepare your farm for the oncoming season while also trying to maintain a steady income every day. There is no time limit but moving slowly doesn’t have any good pay off either. You could go ahead and play Stardew Valley, as it is ultimately easier to play these days, and improves on almost every mechanic. But there is a sort of polish in the animations and mechanics in this game that make it easier on the eyes. The artwork is adorable, and the music (especially the winter music) works well as a package. Harvest Moon is not going to make you rethink gaming or anything grandiose like that, but it is the kind of game that I might choose to play over the options of games on mobile devices or other rip-offs (or homages).

[holocron-inthe-restrictedsection]

The House of My Father

Written for @celebrate-the-clone-wars‘ Writing Wednesday prompt: Inheritance

Surprise, I’m writing again!

Words: 2433

Click ‘Keep Reading’ to stay on tumblr, or continue reading on AO3!

*          *          *

His homecoming had been chilly, to say the least.

There was no doubt in his mind that given the first opportunity, the dozens of nobles that controlled the planet would gladly dispose of him. They had stared daggers at him as he made his claim in the Great Assembly House, and made their objections clearly known. They did not find him worthy of the title; they saw him as an outsider, a usurper. He had to remind the gathered parliament that by their own laws, it was his right as eldest son to claim his House's title, resources, wealth, and power.

And Dooku intended to use his newfound status to its full potential.

The newly appointed Count had spent the last week familiarizing himself with the culture of his homeworld, and the legacy of House Dooku. It was a hefty history, but he committed it all to memory, to prove his loyalty to Serenno. Having lived all eight decades of his life in the Jedi Order, he had foreseen that the other Counts would view him as an individual unworthy of joining their ranks. Who was he, they hissed to one another, to march through their halls and demand the position he had surrendered upon his departure at the age of four?

But it had not fully been his choice, had it?

He remembered only snippets of the day the Jedi had come to the family manor to take him away. He remembered standing in the echoing antechamber ringed with sconces. He remembered the stiff hands of his father as he clasped Dooku on his shoulders and bid him farewell. His mother had cried, but he had no tears to shed for her. Dooku did not recall looking back at the manor as the Jedi's shuttle bore him away.

Standing before it now, Dooku viewed his new home critically. The oblong central structure that rose from the half-circle base of the building dwarfed the forest and security towers that surrounded it. It was compact and angular, its exterior largely unadorned. As far as architecture went, it lacked the elegance and aesthetic pleasantries of the other House manors he had observed.

But a sense of strength and power exuded from this place. Perched on the edge of a cliff-face, the imposing structure stared down from its lofty perch at the city of Saffia in the distance. Rather than mimicking the gentle curves of the open-air palaces that were popular with the other nobles, this place stood like a fortress. It was defensible and imposing, two great green-tinted stained-glass window staring like eyes; one gazing out the cliffside and one monitoring the approaching road. The security towers rose from the vast courtyard, ringing the manor like an honor guard.

“An impressive estate, Madam,” Dooku said graciously to the haughty woman standing beside him. “You have done well keeping up its splendor.”

“I'm so pleased you approve,” she replied icily. “Count.” She added the formality curtly as an afterthought.

Kostanza Dooku stood nearly as tall as Dooku himself, with all the bearing of a noblewoman used to commanding and being obeyed. Her chestnut-brown hair was beginning to grey, drawn back into a severe hairstyle that attempted to make her seem older than she was. She did not have their air of a cruel or callous person, but Dooku could sense the entitlement that coursed through her veins. She knew her place in the galaxy and took it in stride.

And now Dooku had come to take it from her.

Leaving the sleek speeder with the valet, his sister-in-law led him through the courtyard and into the manor itself, the skirt of her dress trailing behind her as she gave him a begrudging tour of the manor. Lavish furnishings filled the halls and rooms, priceless paintings and statues accumulated from hundreds of years of wealth and power. Servants – organic and mechanic – stood at attention as the two strode past them. Dooku reached out to the living servants, and found that for nearly every one of them, their loyalty was to Kostanza – not to the House. Making note of which human servants would need to be relieved and replaced, Dooku listened to the Regent closely, focusing on her presence in the Force and gleaning what information he could from her.

From his research after leaving the Jedi, Dooku had learned that his father, the late Hal Dooku, had remarried after the death of his first wife, and produced another heir nearly twenty years younger than his firstborn. Admittedly, Dooku took the news that he had a brother with little more than mild interest. The man that shared his father’s blood was dead, sent to an early grave by a stray blaster bolt while game hunting on Felucia. His wife Kostanza had served as Regent ten years since his death, as their son was still too young to take the mantle of Count. Adan Dooku had never met his father.

Kostanza had ruled well, it seemed. She was well-liked among the other Counts, and had maintained House Dooku’s vast influence politically and economically, securing their place as the wealthiest of all the Houses of Serenno.

And yet…

For all her clever dealings and appearances, she cared little of the power she wielded for her own sake; her feelings dwelt on her son.

Confident in her ability to maintain prestige herself, Dooku felt her energies devoted to Adan’s future. Her every action was calculated to instruct him in the ways of leadership, to prepare him for his eventual ascension to Count.

Now, each time the Regent looked to Dooku as they strolled through the manor, her eyes found the lightsaber hanging from his belt, and he felt her unease. All her plans had been skewed by his arrival, and she was mentally scrambling for a way to salvage them.

She had opposed him in the Great Assembly House, calling for her allies to support her authority as Regent, and her son’s eventual claim of the head of the House. She attempted to rebuff everything Dooku said, tried to paint him as an outsider, as a poisoner wearing a cape that did not belong to him. In spite of the heated debate that followed and the dark oaths of the other Counts, the Arbiters had begrudgingly denied Kostanza’s claim, and proclaimed Dooku the rightful heir and the patriarch of House Dooku. Adding insult to injury, they then instructed Kostanza to familiarize Dooku with his new obligations, and show him to his new estate.

Dooku had not intended to embarrass the woman, or to undermine her authority. But he did not care that he had. She was irrelevant to him. With the backing of the Arbiters, and with no physical force to challenge him, there was little she could do to threaten him. And so, with color high in her cheeks and eyes glinting with rage, she had obeyed.

Kostanza fell silent as they entered the throne room. Dooku paced away from her, examining the vast space. The massive green stained-glass window commanded the empty, echoing room’s attention. An incredibly high-backed black chair sat behind a dark angular sweeping desk upon a raised dais at the far end of the room. An unusual choice, to have a desk before the throne, but it spoke of the prerogative of House Dooku; business, economy, prestige, and a separation from those who fell beneath his rule.

Dooku turned back to face the Regent. “I will of course require access to all records. Passcodes, clearance, and other pertinent information may be transmitted directly to my datacron.” His measured voice carried impressively in the throne room.

A muscle in her neck jumped. “Of course. Count.” She gestured carelessly to a droid that had trailed them since the foyer. The astromech chirped once in acknowledgement, rolling towards Dooku’s outstretched hand, taking the datacron in its forceps and beginning the downloading process.

“I can’t help but wonder,” Kostanza said at length, watching him closely. “What brought you back to Serenno? The quickest of searches revealed that you are a distinguished Jedi Master. Why leave your noble service after all these years?”

The patronizing tone confirmed that she did not think much of the Jedi. Not that Dooku could blame her, now. While he wasn’t about to reveal all of his reasons for claiming his title, it was only proper to give a passable response.

“I realized my views have diverted too much from what the Jedi Order deems passable. I could no longer abide by their ways. I can do more for the galaxy – and for my people – as Count of House Dooku than I can as a Jedi.”

She eyed him skeptically, but said nothing further.

The droid finished the download and extended the cube once more. Dooku slipped it into his robes.

“I trust all records are accurate and up-to-date?”

Her chin lifted fractionally. “Of course. You will find my data complete and incredibly detailed. I let nothing go unnoted.”

“You do yourself and hour House a great honor through your meticulousness.”

“Indeed,” she sniffed. “If you wish to begin looking through matters of state, I shall leave you in peace.”

In all likelihood, Dooku considered, she simply did not wish to be present when he sat upon her throne. Childish, but understandable.

“Yes. I imagine there are many issues that require my attention.”

With deliberate strides, she began making her way across the gangway towards the master bedroom. Dooku watched for a moment, considering his next words carefully.

He clasped his hands behind him. “A moment, Kostanza.”

Dooku felt her bristle at the familiarity of using her first name, but she turned to regard him silently.

“I intend to assume all aspects and duties required of the Countship as immediately as possible, and to their fullest extent. I cannot help but feel that your presence here will hinder that goal.

She went very still. Dooku felt a swell of panic in her, her eyes boring into him, though she remained composed. He felt her mind whirling, searching for a way to undermine him, to eradicate his misgivings, as though she could somehow influence his already-made decision.

“I assure you, Count, I will uphold the ruling of the Arbiters. It would be most beneficial for me to remain here. I am intimately familiar with the proceedings and alliances of the House. I am an invaluable asset as you get your bearings.”

In another life, Dooku thought, they could have been allies. Kostanza was clever and determined, with a talent for politics and business that would have been useful to him. But her devotions were too focused on her son; she cared only for his wellbeing, for his eventual ascension. Her emotions clouded her thoughts, made her too single-minded. Despite her current oath of fealty, she would always be on watch for ways to undermine him, to clear the path for her son. She would never forgive Dooku for interrupting her way of life. And years of experience made Dooku certain that grudge would only fester like an infection. In the conflict that had already been set into motion, she would merely get in his way.

Better to cut away the infection before it could spread.

He gazed at her coolly, and she seemed to realize her reasoned argument held no sway. For a moment, he thought she’d try to appeal to his emotions, to attempt to make him feel sorry for the last of his family. Perhaps she would insist that he meet his nephew. But she said nothing further. Perhaps she realized it would be futile.

“While I appreciate your position, my dear, I am afraid your services will not be required here further. I will arrange for immediate transportation for you and young Adan to a more suitable clime. Alderaan is always open to resettling dignitaries –”

“You would send us off-world?” Kostanza hissed, taking an involuntary step forward.

“It is in your best interest.”

She seemed to be wrestling with a thought. Finally, she said softly, “Adan will be Count. With no heir of your own, he is next in line. When you pass on, House Dooku will be his to command. By sending us away, you merely separate him from his people and delay his education.”

Dooku looked at her impassively. “I suggest you and your son gather your belongings by this evening. I shall have a shuttle awaiting you at the foyer. Thank you, Madam. You are dismissed.”

Her eyes narrowed. Drawing herself to her full height, Kostanza pierced him with a stare. “You will pay for this insolence.” She swept from the room with her remaining dignity. As she snapped fingers in one last show of defiance, the human servants trotted out after her, leaving Dooku alone in the throne room, save for a single droid standing unmoving at the throne.  

No, my dear. I will profit.

Dooku ascended the dais with measured steps, feeling a strange sense of pride rising in him as he rounded the desk and stood directly before the throne. He considered it carefully, once more mentally preparing himself for this next step.

He glanced at the droid standing beside him, an old version of a protocol droid. It looked back at him with dim yellow photoreceptors.

“Has she trapped the chair in any way?” Dooku asked the droid, only half-joking.

“That would be against the wishes of the Arbiters,” the droid replied in a monotone.

“And whom do you serve?”

“I serve House Dooku.”

Nodding to himself, Dooku lowered himself onto the throne. He gazed at the empty hall, and the sudden thought came to him that his father sat here, and his father before him, and his father before him. A long line of strong rulers that had built their House to be the most powerful in all of Serenno. And now their contributions would be put to use in the most significant event in the modern age.

He had intended to return to Serenno after leaving the Order, yes, but he hadn’t fully decided whether to claim his full inheritance. But when he went to meet with Chancellor Palpatine after officially separating from the Jedi… his plans for the future had changed drastically.

Dooku closed his eyes and centered himself. He had more purpose now than he’d ever had before – a clear goal, and the means to fulfill it.

He accessed the datacron, and numerous files flickered to life on the projected viewscreen before him. With the entirety of House Dooku’s resources at his disposal, he set to work.

There was much to be done.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: A Perfect Blend

Summary: A community effort requires a community. They're working on it.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Original Undertale Characters, Fluff, Domestic

Notes: This is not what I was supposed to be writing today. I have no control over my writing brain, seriously. 

part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

Read it on AO3

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Read it here!

~~*~~

It had taken much longer than Edge would have preferred, even with him and Antwan spent any free time they could dealing with red tape and insurance companies, architects and contractors. Months of effort and headaches, but finally all their work was bearing fruit. Barring any hitches, legal or otherwise, (and Red was dealing stringently with those sorts of issues, far from Edge’s plausible deniability) the Beanery would be opening their doors again by the end of the month.

They’d gone with an entirely new location instead of rebuilding over the old, one that was strategically closer to both the Monster community and en route to the college, allowing both of their most common clientele easy access.

The new building had an open floor plan with large windows letting in the light and the sitting area was twice what the older building held. The walls were going to be a clean white with dark wood trim, tasteful art already chosen and waiting to be hung.

Behind a wide counter was the work area, designed with plenty of space for their more esoteric brewing equipment and that combined with the industrial lights overhead gave the shop a bit of a mad scientist effect that Edge knew the college students who had always frequented the shop were going to appreciate.

He suspected Stretch had a hand in the design.

This was his first time in the building and Edge explored it with a jaundiced gaze, looking for any flaw, any issue that would need to be dealt with before the grand opening. Nothing had caught his attention yet, but there was still time for him to ferret out mistakes while he waited for the others to finish the task at hand.

Painting the walls was going take a little time, particularly with this group.

They could have easy paid for professionals to come in and paint the shop; they had retained plenty of local contractors for this project, out of both practicality and a way to build a relationship with other Human businesses.

Stretch had been the one to suggest inviting the Monster community out to help with this portion of the development. Many of them had visited the shop daily and losing the Beanery had something of a ripple effect. Without their welcoming coffee shop to start the day, less and less Monsters had bothered to come into town at all, isolating themselves within New New Home.

A lack of Monsters in the Human community meant a lack of adjustment to their presence and while Stretch never let himself be held back from visiting his favorite places, one skeleton couldn’t do it all on his own.

“people loved the beanery and everyone who worked there,” Stretch argued to Edge when he’d absently mentioned they were looking into contracting it out, “they wanna help and you guys need to let them.”

He’d been quickly proven right; the signup sheet filled up in less than an hour. Plenty of Monsters were bereft without the Beanery and there had been little they could do to assist in rebuilding, until now.

It was a small gesture and with the size of their group, they’d be done quickly. But the show of support would be priceless. Most of them were already hard at work, and if they lacked the skill of professionals, at least they worked with enthusiasm.

Speaking of…

“hey, babe,” Stretch said cheerily when Edge walked over to him. Normally, Edge would steal a soft kiss or a touch, but Edge was fond of his outfit so today was going to be an exception to the rule. How Stretch managed to get so much paint smeared on his clothes in such a short time, Edge would never know. Jeff was standing next to him and if he wasn’t quite as liberally decorated as Stretch, it was a close thing. “how is it looking? not bad, right?”

For all that his technique was haphazard, to put it generously, it looked acceptable enough. It was a good thing that all of the wood paneling and tables had been carefully covered before they began.

“Your painting is better than your fundraising suggestions,” Edge said dryly.

Stretch only snickered but Jeff raised a curious eyebrow, “Why? What was your idea?” He shifted on his paint-daubed sneakers uncomfortably, but managed to add, “And, um, I thought you guys were okay with money?”

“eh, we don’t really need the cash,” Stretch shrugged, dabbing at the wall with his brush. “but the public relations department likes to do different things, right, babe?”

“It helps build a relationship with the Human community,” Edge agreed. “However, I don’t believe a nude Monster calendar would give us the kind of exposure we’re looking for—” Edge stopped and closed his sockets, pained, as Stretch and Jeff both cracked up with laughter.

“good one, babe,” Stretch chuckled. Absently, he scratched at his cheek bone with the back of his hand and managed to smear paint across his face. The white against bone gave him something of a ghostly appearance. “anyway, what we decided on was a joint effort between the beanery and our local monster bakery.”

“They are going to supply baked goods for them to sell and we’ll have advertisements here on how a portion of the sales go to support different non-profits in the area,” Edge agreed, trying not to think about how he was getting these two into his car. Hopefully there were a couple leftover drop cloths. “It’s mutually beneficial. That will provide good PR and awareness for everyone, the Monster community and the nonprofits.”

“Really? Like for veterans and stuff?” Edge didn’t know the meaning behind the glance Jeff and Stretch exchanged, but he made a note of it. Much as he appreciated their close friendship and the support it gave Stretch, part of Edge sensed trouble surrounding these two like a miasma. Better to be prepared for whatever they stumbled into.

Not to the point of secreting tracking devices on them, of course, but there were certain days that Edge saw the appeal in his brother’s approach.

Instead of asking, though, he only nodded. “Oh, yes. For example, our first organization is one providing equine therapy for veterans and children with disabilities. A couple of my boys from the Y have gotten involved and it’s been a valuable resource for them.”

“That sounds like a pretty good way of doing things,” Jeff admitted. “If you ever need any help, let me know, yeah?”

“Actually, we do have an opening available in the Public Relations dep—” Edge began, only to be interrupted.

“shit,” Stretch yelped, “here, here, help!”

It was with no little frustration that Edge let go of his lost opportunity to steal Jeff from his current employment and instead watched his two stooges struggle to keep a ladder from overturning, the paint can at the top wobbling dangerously.

He should have banned these two from ladder access before they ever got here and now it was too late. Missed opportunities abounded today, it seemed.

Trying to take it away would probably get him an argument from the both of them and Antwan hadn’t been able to come, so Edge wouldn’t have any backup. In other words, not worth the effort to fight a battle he wasn’t likely to win.

He kept his magic at the ready, though, and two-thirds of his attention on these fools as they worked. Stretch wouldn’t be able to stay angry for long if Edge had to turn his soul blue to keep him from landing headfirst on the floor.

His remaining attention was on the rest of the room where groups of Monsters were gathered at each wall, all of them painting amidst laughter and chatter. Monsters young and old had come, alone and with their families, and all of them eager to help.

Edge stood back in the middle of the plastic-draped tables, watching, and only glanced to the side when he felt a presence next to him. Debbie stood there, watching. She dressed like she would have any day at the Beanery, down to her apron and her tidy ponytail. That, at least, had not changed. There was a coffee cup in her hands, wafting a gentle steam.

They stood in silence together for a long moment, watching the hard work and laughter of the others.

“I can’t possibly thank you enough for this,” Debbie said quietly.

“You don’t need to thank me, the Embassy—” Edge began, automatically. He broke off, startled, when she nudged him lightly in the ribs with an elbow. At her height, she had to reach up to do it.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to slip a thank you?” Debbie scolded lightly. Her smile was teasingly warm but there was no mistaking her gratitude, shining in her damp eyes.

“I…suppose not,” Edge said, slowly. Red did sometimes extol the benefits of using the gratitude of others, but Edge sincerely doubted that was what she meant. “Debbie, what happened to the Beanery was not our fault but there is no getting around the fact that it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been an adamant supporter of ours.”

Carefully, he reached over to settle a gloved hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. “You gave us a place in your world to be ourselves, you gave us normalcy when all too often, we stand outside. For what you gave us, it’s our turn to support you. I’ll accept your thank you, if you’ll accept mine, for allowing us to give you this. The Beanery was never just a coffee shop. Not to us.”

“Blast it,” Debbie let out in a watery sigh, pulling up her apron with her free hand and dabbing at her eyes. “All right, enough of that. Honestly, I came over here because I wanted to give you this.” She held up the cup in her hand. It was plain black, thick ceramic, and large enough to hold a generous serving. “It’s the first cup of coffee in our new building. Your usual.”

Oh.

He took it from her, held the mug up in both hands and breathed in the aroma, beautiful, rich darkness. Pitch-black coffee, roasted in house, and that first sip carried with it memories that were as sweet as the coffee was delicately bitter. He rolled it over his tongue before swallowing with a heartfelt sigh.

“It’s perfect,” Edge told her, and Debbie grinned.

“That’s what I like to hear.” She nodded at the others, dropping her voice conspiratorially, “I’ve got drinks and pastries for everyone when they’re done, but I thought it was better not to mention the lemon bars until he was finished, or they might never get started.”

“Good choice,” Edge chuckled. He didn’t flinch when Debbie gave him a gentle pat on the back before she went back behind the counter to finish setting up equipment. His back was probably as high as she could reach without a stepstool, he thought ruefully.

After the painting was finished, they would be bringing in carpenters to add shelves to the walls for displaying the various coffee beans and teas that the shop carried. The floor still needed tiled and there were plenty of small details to tend to yet.

But by the end of the month, the new Beanery would be open for business. The plastic on the tables would be removed and they would be filled with people, Humans and Monsters, couples and college students as they enjoyed coffee and pastries, indulging in both treats and community. A place for Monsters to slowly work towards joining the Aboveground.

Quite the burden to place on a coffee shop, but then, as Edge had said, it had never been just a coffee shop. Not to them.

Edge sipped his coffee peaceably, watching his family and his people laugh together as they worked, waiting for them to finish and join him.

-finis