#I too enjoy and engage with fandom but I’m haunted by how my work is seen as queerer within the constraints of the world of a franchise | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovely-necromancy · 3 years

Text

A Cure for Insomnia CH 1.

This is a reader insert I originally started posting on AO3. I’m cross posting here because I know some of the fandom still lives here.

Quick Disclaimer:

This is a fic I'm writing for my own comfort.

I was inspired by RaeBees (you can check out their works over on Quotev and AO3), and how they characterize the "proxies". Having always seen the characters different than most of the fandom I've interacted with I never really shared my thoughts until now. This work is only placed in the Creepypasta tag so it reaches its demographic. However, I am fully aware of the fact that no main character is considered a Pasta.

It may also appear to lean more Toby X Protag in the beginning but end goal is protag with all three, and Brian and Tim already in a relationship. How I picture it now is a slowburn but Toby and Protag will be in a friends with benefits relationship before either has any feelings, so I think that counts. Some may be confused by the asexual protag tag but it'll be explained in story, as an Ace myself I get frustrated with media that only show one version and say it goes for us all. That being said I don't represent the whole Ace community but I hope to provide a bit more representation for some others out there.

Protag will be depicted as agender, and will have a few tics that stem from their Autism. Again I don't speak for any others with Autism but I hope to provide some representation for those in similar positions.

Tags will be updated as the story progresses. Canon-Typical violence and mental health issues are to be expected if you feel uncomfortable with those aspects I advise you to not engage. This story will also have a lot of NSFW themes and scenes so I highly discourage anyone under the age of 18 from viewing this work. You will get warnings on chapters with NSFW and I will make it skippable as well.

I'm also very nitpicky and gave the main characters birthdays just because it irritates me when it gets mentioned once and you have to do the math or imagine your own conversation when a birthday was too close to a character's.

Tim January 1st, home state Alabama

Toby April 28th, home state Virginia (saw this years ago no clue if it's accurate)

Protag May 13th, home state Virginia

Brian May 23rd, home state Alabama

Connor the service dog July 18th, home state Kentucky

I've referred to Protag as Protag here but in story they're referred to as YN.

Everything felt impossibly dull; your senses, the dark room you're currently in, the noise coming from the fan just to the left of the bed on which you laid. Turning to the window beside your head you stare out into that weird midnight summer sky. More of a gray than a true dark blue night, cast in an orange glow that made the night seem closer to day than it truly was. While the time was just half past twelve, you felt it may have been more accurate to say it was closer to four in the morning.

You're exhausted but that true sort of exhaustion where whatever energy you have left buzzes all around. It consumes your entire being, dances between being deafeningly loud in your ears to giving you twitches in your legs. You'd laid down hours ago thinking you'd be tired enough to sleep once your tics started to spasm in closer intervals, but to no avail were you able to rest. That buzzing preventing you from dreamland. Maybe the hum of your body was right, you didn't really need to sleep, you just wanted it to feel normal.

Knowing the battle had already been lost you push yourself off the bed and grab a pair of shorts off the floor. Slipping them on you contemplate your options for the night. Going into town was out since it was Sunday...well Monday now, but there would be nothing but bars open and you were never one for drinking. And as fun as a drive sounds right now, you feel the buzzing in your bones grow stronger, you need to move. A late night hike should keep you occupied, with it being so quiet and the middle of the night you wouldn't even have to take your headphones to cancel out the sounds of other people, you aren't likely to run into many people tonight.

Deciding on a hike you grab a mask and car keys and make your way to your yellow Kia Soul. A going away present from your parents that they gave you the moment you got your driver's license after your 24th birthday. Having anxiety throughout your life you'd never been in the head space to start driving till later on, and while you still don't enjoy driving you are pretty good at it even with your “late” start. Surfing through radio stations as you let the car warm up you find your latest obsession, it's a conspiracy theory podcast that someone in Kepler managed to blast through the limited air ways of the town. Impressive considering Kepler was in a radio quiet zone and even cell phones couldn't work in the small town, luckily you lived just outside of the zone so you could send texts and call your parents every weekend.

It seemed today's episode was a rerun, Mothman: Murderer, Man, or Myth. It was actually one of your favorites, the paranormal stories tended to be more entertaining than hearing about how a man could murder sixteen people while working as a cop ruining evidence to lead the others off his trail. Humans could be more vial and cruel than any little gray alien from the future or tall Fresno Nightcrawler could ever be. And they weren't as entertaining to hear about, nor were their exploits as impressive. You could always see patterns, either connecting clues first or finding connections no one else saw, it was never hard to tell where a certain case would lead so you'd always end up disappointed in humanity when they overlooked such obvious clues. Though that often led you down a path of deep diving for information to see just how obvious it was, more often than not you'd find that the most logical conclusion was shady public officers. After investigating so many cold cases you're sure if you're ever in trouble you'll never involve the police, in the end they'd probably just ignore you and rule your case closed if anything ever did happen to you.

'I'd haunt them if they did.' You decide and you shift gears and begin driving to the Monongahela National Forest, as the timeline of Mothman sightings and events play out before for your ears.

Instead of going through town and possibly loosing the signal of the show, you drive on the old dirt road that runs along the very edge of the town, partially covered in trees. This over grown road is the main reason Kepler doesn't see many visitors, the second someone makes their way onto it coming off the interstate they floor it until they see civilization. Over the few months you've been here you've nearly been run right off the road by spooked tourists, trying to escape whatever ghouls their wild imaginations created. The only real thing on this road was a mini mart gas station, and even though it was shady as hell the cashier didn't bug you too much when you came in in the dead of night. Plus they had a cat, how could you not stop in and say hi to little ole Magnolia?

Speaking of which you should probably get a drink for your hike, you could already feel your throat drying out. Turning into the parking lot you're happy to see no other cars around, putting your face mask on you make your way inside. As usual the store is dead at this time, and Ronnie is manning the desk. What's unusual is the man also behind the counter, he has dark brown hair that he's tied into a small and low ponytail, thick sideburns frame his face. You immediately take note of the slight imperfections of his face, most would see the slit in his eyebrow as following the current trend or even just a genetic thing, but you can see the slightly off color of a healed scar that starts just above his eyebrow and ends mid eyelid, he has a few smaller discolorations on his crooked nose, you'd guess he's had it broken at least twice.

Briefly taking a glance to his brown eyes before looking away, today is not an eye contact day. Nodding in their directions, the best acknowledgment you can give right now, you make your way to the freezers. From the freezer section you can hear Ronnie “explain” you.

“That's YN, a regular mainly at night though. A bit skittish and rarely ever says more than 'thanks have a nice day'” Even though she's whispering you can hear everything. Including the high octave her voice takes to mimic you, it feels more like mocking.

If being mocked hadn't already put you on edge the eyes boring into you have. The eyes may not be roaming over your body but the icky crawling of your skin sure makes it feel that way. The feeling of being put under a microscope has always made you sick, the stares, the leers and sneers, and the judgment just makes you want to implode on the spot. Cease existence, be swallowed into the abyss. You're about to set yourself into an anxiety attack with all these thoughts.

'Mask, mask, mask' you repeat over and over in your head, it's the only thing you can focus on. You are wearing a mask, there is one thing they can't perceive, the face is the most important for humans to perceive, your mask protects you.

Without looking you pull a water bottle from the cooler. You don't think you like this brand but the sports mouth makes up for it, and you can't focus enough to grab another. As the imaginary spiders crawl their way under your skin and your breath hitches you make your way over to the counter head down, never looking up at the employees beyond the counter. Your vision is blurring in time with the beating of your heart, you can't tell if it's due to nerves or from being up for five days in a row.

“Hey YN, how're you?” Ronnie asks, her tone is different from the past times you've been in. It's higher and has a lilt in it that you'd expect from a teasing friend. But Ronnie isn't a friend and has never spoken to you like this, you hate it. You nod to politely move on with the process, between the crawling of your skin and the buzzing underneath it you feel sick. And you're now very aware of the existence of your eyelids, you try to focus on ignoring that awareness. You need to move.

“Hmm, that's good. Anyway this is Tim! He's just started so go easy on him.” you hear the sound of a hand hitting fabric and assume she's patted Tim's shoulder as she introduced Tim to you. Why was she doing this, what purpose could introducing you two have? You nod again, was anyone going to ring you out?

“Hi, this all?” a deep voice asked, it isn't extremely deep more of a standard baritone that has a slight raspy quality, probably a reformed smoker. You don't smell cigarettes currently so he could've quit after years. Unfortunately despite your efforts to stave them off your blinking tics emerge. Making it difficult to keep your eyes open for longer than a nano second.

Startled and ticcing you look up and catch his eyes, you see pity in them, before casting your glance back to the counter. You can never tell what's worse people seeing you as weird or seeing you as something needing to be fixed. Nodding again, Tim tells you the total; a dollar fifty eight, and you hand him two dollars from your wallet.

Tim doesn't ask if you want the receipt or a bag, he prints out the receipt and hands you your change. The change goes immediately into the cat food fund for Magnolia. She got diagnosed with diabetes about a month ago and having worked in shelters and pet stores you know just how expensive her prescription food is. After folding the receipt into your wallet, Tim gently slides the water bottle over to you.

“Have a good night.” he says it so low and gentle, as if he thinks you'll shatter in front of him. As kind as the gesture seems, you aren't that fragile...or maybe you are if you have to keep repeating 'mask' over and over in your head to ground yourself. With a final nod you turn and make your way to the door, and just as you open it you hear Ronnie call out.

“Awwww, c'mon YN at least say 'Hi' to Tim.” You really don't like how she squeaked out 'hi'.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself, you'll show them both you can do this simple task. Even if you can't stop blinking long enough to see straight. Once you've steadied yourself you turn and look at Tim. He's sending you a look that says 'You don't have to' all that's missing is a slow head shake to complete his unease with this “peer pressure”.

But you can do this you can say 'Hi, Tim.' Two words super simple, nothing complex like 'Hi, Tim, nice to meet you.' and so much better than the option of your next meeting saying 'Hi, Tim. Sorry for spazzing out the other night.'. Yup you can do this just breathe, you open your mouth and...and you've forgotten what to say. Looking like a deer in headlights, well at least the tics stopped, you say the first thing that pops in.

“Mask.” You've said it loud and clear both cashiers heard you.

Tim stares with wide eyes and you see Ronnie failing to hide her laughter. Out of all the ways this could've gone this was probably the best outcome for her. The blinking has started up again, this time growing more frequent. You can't even hold your eyes open, to the two cashiers it must look like you're in pain or crying. And while you want to die of embarrassment, crying is a bit of an extreme for you.

So with red face and the inability to see you leave through the door, and try to make your way back to your car. Once in you lock the doors, switch the car on, and rest your head on the steering wheel. Out of every way this stop could've gone, being perceived by a new comer and Ronnie was not what you expected. While this hadn't been the worst five minutes or so of your life, it definitely would be another thing keeping you up at night for the next twenty years.

Calming down in the cool quiet dark of your car your slowly brought back to the world by the beginning of a new episode. This one talking about the Tailypo legend. A favorite story of yours from when you were a kid living on the coast of Virginia. So with yet another deep breath and the wave of nostalgia, you pull out of the parking lot and slowly coast down the old dirt road. Heading yet again for the Monongahela forest.

It's nearly two in the morning when you roll up to see an RV parked by the forgotten entrance of the park. It isn't surprising at all to find an RV out here since the Monongahela Forest is one of the most beautiful parks you've ever been to. You also don't think anything of them being parked by this unused entrance because you use it all the time since finding it accidentally. Figuring they just wanted to camp and be left to their own devices rather than use the RV sites and be bothered with other campers here for the summer.

Climbing out of your car you notice the RV isn't new by any means but it isn't a total rust bucket either, looks like it's been passed around throughout the years. There isn't anything to suggest it's been here a while, nothing left set up outside, must have just gotten into town then. You do happen to notice dog tracks around the sandy dirt you've parked in, good to know they have a dog before you slammed your car door. Closing the door gently behind you so you don't startle a pup and wake up it's owner or owners, you make your way through the woods. No real direction in mind, with no real thought in your head. Just the thought of moving and to keep on moving.

You could walk the same path every time you came through and always find something different. In fact that's exactly what happens, you're almost positive that you've deepened the imprint of the path just from walking through several times a week. Following the same winding path you usually do, climbing over the fallen tree, and through a scattering of blueberry thicket's you find yourself on the edge of one of the forest's many streams. It's your favorite spot in the forest so far, and about as far as you've gotten considering these hikes of yours take place during the dead of night.

The wind picks up and sends a chill through you, taking that as a sign you slide down to sit by the stream. Vans placed to your side as you sink your feet into the cool water. It's peaceful out here, so cool, and quiet, save for the slight noises the stream makes, various bubbling and drips. You try to think on things like your recent move, your job, the embarrassing 'mask' incident, just life in general. But you can't seem to form a single thought, this happens a lot, you've recently been conscious of the fact that you've been running on auto pilot for the past two months, hell a lot longer than that. You think everyone must get like this from time to time, but you think you've always been this way. Keen to dissociating and slipping in and out of existence.

It's quite nice really, except for the times like right now where you'd love to figure out why the silence in your head is so painfully loud. The more you think on it the louder it gets and the stronger the buzzing under your skin feels. And right now the static in your mind has been getting louder and louder for the past few minutes. You feel your head jerk to the right of it's own accord, moving back in place it happens for a second time, and then a third, then jerks up, before jerking a forth time to the right effectively cracking you neck.

“There we go.” you mumble, you can relax a bit as the verbal tic indicates the end of this round of tics.

Sighing you look at the sky...that can't be right. The sky has been painted it's fresh baby blues for the day, but again that can't be right. You just got to the stream, that path is a thirty minute walk meaning it should be just about two thirty in the morning, but the sky suggests it's five or six at the latest. Reaching for your water bottle you find it empty next to you. You didn't fall asleep you know that much, perhaps you did dissociate tonight. Well this hike was disappointing if you knew you were going to dissociate you'd have saved yourself that embarrassment and stayed home. Maybe done some painting or tidied up.

Sighing you push yourself off the ground, collecting you vans you're about to put them on when you notice a figure off in the distance. You freeze out of shock and stare at the figure, it stares back. The figure is about ten yards away, god your near sighted ass should really remember to not leave your glasses in the car when hiking. The figure starts to make it's way to you and after a few steps you realize it hasn't moved from it's spot. Rolling your eyes you ignore the hallucination.

You'd really needed to get sleep last night, today is day six of no sleep and though you haven't had many episodes these past few days, you have a feeling they'll start to get more prominent today. Hopefully tonight you can manage to get some rest, the longer you go without sleep the more realistic the hallucinations become. But for today you're content with the knowledge that it's just shadow like beings that you'll be seeing.

After putting on your shoes you start the thirty minute hike back to your car. You're thankful for the weather in Kepler, nothing like back on the coast. Here you can go for a morning hike through the forest while a gentle breeze passes by and the sun starts to give the area a pleasant warmth. Back on the coast you couldn't run and grab the mail without getting drenched in moisture from either sweat, humidity, or a mixture of both. The coast sucks, hell Virginia sucks altogether, you're glad to be in Kepler.

“I want to go home, home.” you say out of nowhere.

Before you reach the entrance you hear barking, oh the RV campers must be up. Should you be careful not to scare them, or just walk normally and say 'Good morning' in passing, maybe just nod your head in greeting. Oh and you've stopped just beside the entrance as you got lost in your rambling. You didn't mean to come to a stop here, and as you try to move you notice how silent it's gotten. Did the dog go inside, maybe they've already passed...no it's too quiet for that. No the silence is oppressive like the one you deal with nightly, there's a reason for the silence. The situation's making you feel uneasy, but that could be the sleep deprivation talking.

You're about to brush it off and move when you hear a whispered, “Seriously man, I don't think anyone's out there. Let's get inside.”

There's a noise of agreement before you hear shuffling. Oh no, you zoned out and now you look like a weirdo stalker. Just perfect, maybe if you wait around a little more you'll seem more normal or at least feel normal. Not knowing how long to wait you walk along the tree line for a bit, looking at the ground as you do making sure you won't step on any snakes. In you quest to not step on any snakes you spot something suspiciously off white. It seems purposefully buried under a dead blueberry bush and some fallen branches.

Having listened to too many true crime shows, you know better than to implicate yourself in a murder. Grabbing a stick off the ground you gently brush the foliage away from the supposed corpse. No way, you can't believe your luck, it's an actual fucking skull. An intact skull of a deer! That is so cool, you've only seen taxidermists on TikTok getting so lucky and finding these dudes. Since the jaw bone is connected by tissue it of course isn't with the skull but maybe it's close by? Clearly this got planted or hidden by someone, maybe they were planning on pranking a friend by 'uncovering' a skull later. Oh well, finders keepers and all that, you have way better plans for this guy, hopefully you can find that jaw bone.

You set off searching through the foliage and near by bushes with the branch while holding the skull in your other arm. After searching about three feet around and finding no more bones you decide that this is the only part of the deer's skeleton in this area. A little disappointed but still thrilled with your find, you decide it must be a good time to go back to your car.

Surely you won't look weird now. You a little forager with their treasure in hand. Looks like you'll be busy cleaning, then bleaching, and cleaning these bones today. Is that the order to treat found bones? You aren't sure but you can look into that later. Placing the skull in the trunk so it doesn't roll about and get damaged you make sure it's secure before closing the trunk and getting into your car and locking the doors.

Not once did you notice the pairs of eyes that had been watching you. One watching as you found the deer skull, and the other set seeing you place bones into your car. They kept watching as you fiddled with the radio while the car was starting up. They watched as you pulled out of the sandy dirt lot and drove back down the old road a little faster than before now that you could clearly see.

#creepypasta fanfic #ticci tobyx reader #brain thomas x reader #timothy wright x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #reader insert #no clue if I'm reaching a wider audience than AO3 but I'll try this out #Crossposted #as of now 13 chapters are over on AO3 if you wanted to read #other wise I'll post a chapter every 3 days on here until I catch up with AO3 #Ao3 has priority #A cure for insomnia

60 notes · View notes

sunriseseance · 4 years

Note

please,,, even if you dont answer this publicly i wanna know your In Depth Thoughts on fanon klaus and the issues w him bc i also have issues w fanon klaus but i cant put it in words

This got SO LONG, so I hope you meant it when you said you wanted in depth! Holy shit I sorta lost my mind on this.

In my early days as a bear-poker in this fandom, I described fanon!Klaus as that person who gets resurrected in a horror movie and comes back different. As an audience member, I can tell he's wrong, but nobody interacting with him directly seems to know this. I've also talked a little bit about Klaus and intelligence before, which plays into any discussion about fanon!Klaus, but I'll be more specific here. Before I get started, I wanna say that fandom is a fun space and I don't think anyone is *bad* for creating/enjoying fanon!Klaus, especially not for the third reason I lay out. I just think he's awful, and has some harmful roots that I doubt the people writing him even know about on a conscious level.

Okay, let's get into this. Because I'm me and Wittgenstein's early work that he later disagreed with has changed my entire way of interacting with the world, I'm gonna define my terms. Let's talk about what fanon!Klaus is LIKE before we talk about why I REALLY DON'T LIKE HIM. Fanon!Klaus is a happy, stupid, sweet, childish, bubbly, luminous free spirit. He wears bubblegum pink skirts and he cries when Diego eats his cookies. He doesn't know what numbers are, he can't count, he can't walk and chew gum, he thinks that Africa is a country, he forgets that homophobia exists, he doesn't know that drugs are bad for him, the list goes on (These are all real examples. Can you tell what part of fanon annoys me the most?). He cries at the drop of a hat, and doesn't understand his place in the family. He'd move heaven and earth to help the people around him, and he'd never be mean to anyone but Luther (and even then just barely) He constantly needs attention, supervision, etc. He makes jokes about modern memes and listens exclusively to pop music. He's really damaged but it's only because nobody Took Care Of Him and he needs someone to Rescue Him.

Canon Klaus is mean, and quick, and sharp, and miserable, and hiding, and funny because you're laughing WITH him, and an old soul, and a goth, and chronically apathetic, and selfish, and so fucking smart, and acutely aware of just how much he matters to other people. He makes rape jokes, he figures out how to get info on the eye while high out of his mind, he speaks like 10 languages, he listens to Nina Simone, he uses people's inherent fear of the dead to buy himself time, he finds the perfect story within the dead to cause a rift, he tells Luther TO HIS FACE that he doesn't care if the world ends. Klaus is a fascinating study in queer trauma, and robbing him of these traits is a complete disservice to yourself AND the character.

I say this often about fanon!Klaus, but WHO IS THIS??? Like…. Okay, if I gave you this list and you didn't know it was about Klaus, would you think it was? I think he's literally unrecognizable. He's not any of the things I know or love about Klaus. He's nobody to me, except a nuisance wearing the same skin suit and clogging the tags. He is also, weirdly, the most popular character in the entire fandom. I wanna think about why, and I have 3 theories that I think can all be true separately or simultaneously instance to instance.

First, fanon!Klaus exists because of internalized homophobia, classism, and anti-addict rhetoric. I think that on some level people don't believe addicts, feminine queer men, or homeless people are capable of intelligence. I think people see Klaus's canonical positive traits and they sort of throw them out the window because they don't make sense with their world view. A queer addict is a helpless tragedy, and he's someone that needs rescuing by Kind Strong Dave. A queer addict can't be smart, because then he wouldn't be an addict. A queer addict can't be wily, or interesting, because then he wouldn't be an addict. Fandom sees a feminine queer mlm and knows he should be in a sparkly bubblegum pink skirt, and saying "dahling" or "wig" or whatever else all the time. They know he should be bashful and submissive and always falling into the arms of Kind Strong Dave who protects him from Evil. They also know he should really, really like Britney Spears, and not give a shit about Nina Simone.

Second, fanon!Klaus exists because people want to excuse negative behavior in their favorite characters. Klaus is selfish and mean and apathetic. He just is. These are flaws that haunt him, and define a lot of his interactions. These are, also, pretty tough flaws to excuse (which… Hey…. I have a solution for that). I think that fanon Klaus, who just doesn't GET that he's being mean, and is too stupid not to become an addict (I don't think addiction is a flaw, but I do think that addiction plays into this), and is too out of touch and childish to understand that he shouldn't just fucking leave, comes from a place of wanting Klaus to be a good person who does good things. I'm sorry, but he isn't. Not always. I think the impulse to make him constantly sweet and constantly stupid comes from wanting Klaus's actions to be fundamentally excusable. He can't help it! He's just too much of a useless twink to know that it's bad to lie! (also, side note, fanon!Ben comes from this side of fanon!Klaus. In canon, Klaus is self destructing on purpose and Ben's presence helps…. Maybe, possibly, twice. In fanon, Klaus is just stupid and he needs a babysitter and that is Ben, the motiveless, endlessly loving but Exhausted braincell holder. This is fucked up on many levels. Ben is an asshole, and we all need to get used to that idea quick).

The third and final reason is that fanon!Klaus is… More fun, in the traditional sense of the word. Fanon!Klaus seems like he comes from a very emotional romcom or sitcom or something. He's like a barbie. He's fun to play dress-up with. He's fun to make incorrect quotes about. He's fun to write about, especially when it's about his siblings herding him or coddling him. Good ol' useless, loveable Klaus. I think this is partially because Klaus is a pretty fucking heavy character. He's a traumatized homeless queer drug addict, and that's sort of hard to make jokey fandom content about. Not impossible, I don't think, but not easy. This isn't to say that angsty fandom content isn't guilty of fanon!Klaus, though. It absolutely is. Often when Klaus willingly shares his feelings, or cries in front of someone, or asks for help for something more intense than tying him to a chair, it's fanon!Klaus. Hell, any time he GETS rescued it's teetering into that territory. He's still completely devoid of all of the grit and intrigue of canon, but he's fun to write about, and fun to project onto, and fun to rescue. He's also EASIER to write. People know that Klaus is a funny character, they know they laugh when he's on screen, but it is WAY harder to write a character you're laughing with than it is to write a character you're laughing at. It's WAY easier to write a character who moves your angst plot on by asking for help, or necessitating rescuing, than it is to work out how these things would happen without initiation. I get it, and in spite of the length of this, I don't think it's the end of the world.

I guess as I close this out, I would remind everyone that Klaus is smart, and mean, and over 30 years old. He's not a babe in the woods, or a damsel in distress, or a useless silly junkie twink. I promise that the real Klaus is worth the time and effort it takes to engage with him.

#the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #Answered #Um #Fandom criticism #Rape cw

702 notes · View notes

roman-writing · 3 years

Text

bring home a haunting (1/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 11,511

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.” - CS Lewis, Till We Have Faces

—

I: 1987

—

The sound of water sloshing through the pipes was a constant drone in the air. Dani stared at herself in the mirror. Her hand rested on the tap, holding it open. Steam crept in along the edges of the mirror as hot water continued to stream into the white porcelain bathroom sink, pale tendrils framing her face like smudged fingerprints against the glass. She was still dressed in pajamas, her hair a rumpled mess. There were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her face felt puffy and her stomach heavy, but above all else she just appeared tired.

There was movement behind her. The bathroom door opened and her head jerked up in surprise as the door frame squared around Eddie's tall silhouette. In the misted mirror, his glasses seemed to reflect all light, obscuring half his face in a gleam like the sun glancing across the surface of a windscreen.

His reflection smiled. "You still getting ready?" he asked. "We need to go in ten, if I'm giving you a ride to work."

Abruptly, Dani twisted the tap, cutting off the flow of water. She cleared her throat. "Sorry. No. I'll — I'll drive myself."

"You sure? I don't know if your poor little car will make it."

"No. It'll be fine," she assured him, trying to sound far more confident than she felt. Never mind that the local mechanic had given her a list of incomprehensible ills that plagued her car the last time she had taken it into the shop after it had broken down again. "Thanks, though."

"All right," he said, but still he did not turn to leave. "You know, I was thinking. We should probably sell it."

"Hmm?"

Dani had opened the mirror door to reveal a jumble of bottles and toothpaste and toothbrushes, only some of which were hers. She scouted around for what she was looking for. Even after a few weeks, everything still felt so displaced. She struggled to find the smallest item these days, be it her favorite sauce pan or a bottle of — oh, there it was.

"Your car," Eddie was saying behind her. "Don't you think we should sell it? We don't really need two. Not now that we're living together."

Dani froze with her hands cupped in the water of the sink. She could see her own reflection weaving and waving from the disturbance until her face looked disjointed. Like some sort of Picasso. An eye here. A jaw there. Scattered into separate chambers.

Without answering, she leaned down and splashed her face, rubbing at her cheeks until a foam lathered, eyes squeezed shut.

"Well?" Eddie asked.

She bought herself a moment by rinsing the suds from her face and reaching blindly for a towel that she had perched on a nearby rail for just that very purpose. When she spoke, her voice was muffled through the cloth, "I don't know. I just think —" She lowered the towel and wiped at her neck. "Wouldn't it be inconvenient? You having to drive me around everywhere?"

In the mirror, his outline shrugged. "I don't mind. More time spent with you, right?"

She offered him a weak smile, drying her hands and folding the towel neatly back on its rack. “You’re sweet,” she said. “But really. I mean — What if I need to pick up groceries on the way back from the school? Or what if I want to visit your mother? Or —?”

“All right. All right. You win,” he laughed, softly. He came up behind her, hands settling on her waist, gentle but heavy all the same. “Just think about it. Okay?”

The steam at the edges of the mirror had begun to fade, and Eddie’s features came into sharp relief. Looking at their reflection was like looking at the picture in their living room where they were posed for prom. Eddie’s hands clasped at her waist, and Dani still with that deer in the headlights smile. It was almost perfect. It was almost enough. Being a fresh-faced fiancée. Wearing rumpled pink pajamas. Living together. Watching a life unfold before her as though it belonged to someone else.

She shrank away from him in order to turn around. “I should finish getting ready,” she said.

He let her go but leaned down for a kiss. Instead, his glasses bumped the side of her face. Laughing, she pushed the glasses up his nose as he retreated with a wince.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Her hand was still lingering on the side of his face — scratch of stubble beneath her fingertips — and Eddie pressed a brief kiss to her palm before striding from the bathroom. Dani stood there, clutching her hand back to her chest, listening to his retreating footsteps down the hall. Something curdled in her stomach, though she hadn’t eaten anything yet this morning. She passed it off as hunger instead of guilt.

Eyes squeezing shut, hand clenching into a fist at her sternum, Dani inhaled a deep steadying breath. Then, opening her eyes once more, she turned back towards the mirror and reached for a hairbrush.

—

The coffee in the teacher’s lounge was always dark as sin and tasted of battery acid. Dani pulled on the tap, filling up her styrofoam cup until her hand burned and she had to hold it gingerly from the top with her fingertips. Enough creamer followed so that the coffee resembled milk more than the original brew. She tested it with a sip, crinkled her nose, and added sugar until it was barely palatable. It would still strip paint in a pinch, but it would also keep her going throughout the day.

With a resigned sigh, she carried the coffee over to the round table in the back corner of the lounge, where her piles of notes and textbooks waited. The binders sported multi-colored tongues, every section marked with a tab and her broad loopy handwriting, and there was a satchel of pens and markers in every hue under the sky. Taking a sip of her cup of paint thinner, Dani pulled out a plain black pen. She trailed her thumb down the tabs until she reached the desired section, and flipped open to the correct page. There, she began to record her meticulous notes. She would pause every so often to flip through a textbook and double-check some figure or another that she had convinced herself she had forgotten.

The lounge was mostly empty but for her. It was still an early hour, even for her colleagues. Here, she felt like she could actually work. Back home she would inevitably feel like she had gotten in the way. Not of Eddie. Not usually. Though sometimes he would wander over to the table while she was trying to arrange a lesson plan and distract her with talk of banalities that always made her hand slip, that always made her lose her place on the page. Other times he would complain about how her work sprawled and took over the whole dining room.

Mostly it was the house itself. Still so fresh and new and clean, walls pressing in like a stomach lining. Spreading all her work notes out felt like she was intruding upon the space of the napkins and cutlery. As though all of the items people had bought them for their engagement were more at home there than she was. A house of cardboard boxes. Of clothes. Of china. Stuff. Things. Their things.

Dani’s writing had slowed. She shook her head briskly and straightened in her seat. Another sip of fortifying turpentine, and she was scribbling away again.

“Enjoy the summer holiday?”

Dani glanced up at the sound of that familiar voice. Hannah Grose, seamlessly elegant in a wine-dark skirt suit, stood with her hand on the back of one of the chairs around the little table.

A smile broke across Dani’s face, and she said, “Yeah! And you?” She gestured towards the chair with her pen, adding, “Please.”

“Not much to report on the western front.” Hannah sat, delicately leaning her elbow upon the table so as not to disturb the sprawl of Dani’s notes. “But I hear that’s not the case in your camp. Congratulations are in order.”

Dani could feel her cheeks strain with the effort of keeping her smile in place. “Thanks!”

“Well?” Hannah asked, her eyes agleam with warm curiosity. “Go on then. How did he propose?”

“Which time?” Dani joked half-heartedly. When Hannah gave a little huff of laughter, Dani said, “No, seriously. He’s been asking me to marry him since we were kids.”

“Well, congratulations,” Hannah said. “Do you have a date planned? Or is that still in the works?”

Dani fiddled with the pen between her fingers, repeatedly removing the cap and sticking it back on with a nervous jab. The plastic clacked dully against the unfamiliar band of gold around her finger. “Oh, no. Not yet. We — uh — we’re going to wait a bit. Eddie just started his new job, and I’ve — well. You’re the one who asked me to teach sixth grade this year. And I’m excited, but also I feel so unprepared for a whole classroom of twelve year olds.”

“Don’t be nervous, dear,” Hannah said, and though her tone was soothing her small smile was teasing. “They can smell fear.”

Dani’s laugh was slightly too breathy and too short to be heartfelt. “Oh, I know. It’s just —” She made a flighty gesture with one hand, “— getting a new batch in. It’s always a little nerve wracking. There are so many names to memorize in the first week. And sorting out the dynamics of them all, how they interact, and — well, you know.”

“No, I don’t. Not really, anyway,” Hannah said. “I came up the ranks through an administrative route. Never had any classroom time to speak of.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Dani said.

Hannah gave Dani’s notes a nudge with her elbow. “What was it you were just telling me about the trials and tribulations of homeroom?”

This time when Dani laughed, it was far more relaxed. “The kids are the best part. Really. That’s why you do it.”

Hannah gave her a knowing look. “Yes. And that’s why I hired you.”

“Have I thanked you for that, yet?”

“Only once a year for three years.”

“My next gift basket is in the mail tomorrow, then,” Dani joked.

“Hang the basket and bring me a slice from the cafe instead.”

“With coffee?” Dani asked, grinning when Hannah wrinkled her nose at the idea. “You got it, boss.”

“Tea,” said Hannah primly, “is perfectly serviceable. Thank you. It’s eight thirty, by the way.”

Dani’s eyes widened and she checked her watch to find that Hannah was, in fact, correct. “Oh, shoot!” Hastily, she scraped together the loose papers, shuffling them back into their notebook. Tucking it beneath one arm, she snatched up her styrofoam cup and made a dash for the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mrs. Grose.”

“Don’t forget to bring back a receipt for the slice!” Hannah called after her. “You must let me pay you back this time!”

“Put it on my next remuneration review!”

—

The kids were all filing into class, and Dani was hesitating at the blackboard. She held the tip of a piece of chalk against the dark grain. Her hand had frozen on the final downward stroke of the 'M' when she thought — should it still be 'Miss'? 'Ms.'? What were the rules?

The sounds of children jabbering away behind her, chairs scraping, things being thrown, urged her into action, and Dani wrote the name she had always written before turning around.

"All right, let's settle down, please." She waited until twenty-five faces were turned towards her in relative silence — as good as she could hope for given the circumstances — before smiling. Then, she set aside the chalk and picked up a clipboard full of names. "Hi, everyone. I'm Miss Clayton. Welcome to homeroom. Let's go through names. Make sure everyone's here."

It was the same, she told herself even as she meticulously took roll. How different could a bunch of twelve year olds be to her usual ten year olds? She even recognized one or two names from when she had taught a previous class. One of her former students waved at her from the back of a row of desks, and Dani smiled in return.

She skimmed right over the roll call and into the first introductions to the year. It happened so fast, that she hardly even registered a familiar looking name on the list. The boy in question merely raised his hand upon his name being called out, and Dani forged on to the next. With so many new faces to memorize, she did not even pause to mull over the presence of a Michael Taylor in her class. There were too many of them. Always too many. She never could keep track. Always remembering faces, but never names. Maybe if there were fewer of them, she thought. Maybe if they were younger.

They never were.

—

Even after two weeks back in the classroom, the bell ringing never failed to make Dani jump slightly. She nearly dropped her chalk from where she was drawing on the blackboard. Already behind her she could hear the scrape of chairs and the excited babble at the arrival of the weekend.

Setting down the chalk, Dani turned around and began wiping her hands against her skirt. She had to lift her voice to be heard. “All right everyone, don’t forget your permission slips for a trip to the community library! If you don’t bring back a signed form, you won’t be able to go, and you’ll have to stay here! And, Michael? Can you stay behind for a minute, please? I want to talk to you.”

Michael’s head whipped around at the sound of his name. A few other students shot him odd glances and his shoulders crept up around his ears. He shoved his books and notes into his bag — a dark blue canvas with silver stars that looked like they’d been painstakingly drawn on — then slouched at his desk until the others had all left.

Sitting behind her own desk, Dani brushed at the chalk handprints on her skirt — she was always a mess by the end of a school week; chalk everywhere — and gestured for Michael to come closer. He hesitated before pushing himself upright and walking forward until he stood in front of her desk. His brow was furrowed but his head was bowed, looking contrite, as though waiting for some sort of reprimand.

Dani gentled her voice. “Michael, I just wanted to -"

"Mikey."

She blinked, faltering. "I'm sorry?"

"My name," he said very firmly for someone who stood with such a stoop. "It’s Mikey. I don’t like Michael."

With a smile, Dani said, "Of course. Mikey. You’re not in trouble. I promise.” With a light tap of her palms against the surface of the desk, she pulled out a piece of paper from atop one of the stacks and slid it towards him across her desk. “This is your homework from Monday. Do you remember this problem here? Number eleven?”

Shrugging at the weight of his backpack, he nodded.

“Well, I kind of messed up,” she said, lowering her voice and leaning forward as though revealing a secret. “And I copied this problem from the wrong section of the book. The back section of the book, I mean. Most of the others didn’t even try to answer it, and those that did got it wrong. Except —” Dani tapped a finger against the edge of the page, “— for you.”

Mikey did not say anything. His gaze remained dropped, as though he were studying his shoes.

“Do you know what this ‘x’ is?” Dani asked, pointing to the math problem in question.

Mikey shook his head. “No. I thought it was like a question mark?”

“Yeah.” Dani smiled. “Yeah, that’s right.”

He glanced up at her, saw her watching him, and then hastily lowered his eyes again, shuffling his feet.

Leaning her weight on her forearms, Dani said, “I know you’re a transfer student this year, and you came from somewhere out of state. Did your other schools teach you algebra by any chance?”

Again, he shook his head.

“Okay.” She ducked her head down in an attempt to look into his eyes. “I told you: you’re not in trouble. I just wanted to know — do you like math? Because it seems to me you’re really good at it.”

“I guess,” he mumbled. His hand tightened around the strap of his backpack. “Can I go now?”

Dani toyed with the edge of the page of homework. Then with a sigh she leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, you can go. Have a good weekend.”

He murmured some pleasantry in response, but in the next moment he was gone from the room so fast she thought she must have imagined it. For a moment, Dani frowned after him. She pulled his homework towards herself, studying the page. Mikey’s handwriting was cramped and messy, but there was no mistaking the fact that he had written every answer only once. There were no eraser marks to be seen. He even showed the steps he took to reach his answers.

Her thumb traced over his name at the top right hand corner. Then, with a little shake of her head, she set the page back atop the stack of other papers and began to clean up.

Even after the kids had mostly left, there were always a few stragglers left behind. Some trotted through the halls in packs on their way to whatever extracurricular activities their parents had signed them up for. Dani kept the door to her classroom open, and the squeak of their shoes echoed down the corridor along with the sound of their fading voices. Tilting her wrist to check the time, she pulled out the latest round of homework assignments that had been handed back to her earlier that day. The set she hadn’t had a chance to mark yet.

Best to just get it done with now. Her car was clinging to the last vestiges of life and had landed itself back in the workshop earlier that week. She would be here a while until Eddie got off work.

She grabbed a red pen and pulled the first page towards her. The pen flicked officiously as she scanned through the questions, barely pausing until she circled the final grade at the top and set the page aside in favor of the next. And so on. And so forth. It was almost relaxing. As relaxing as a known constant could be. She could always rely upon the dependability of homework that needed grading. Just like she could rely upon the dependability of death and taxes.

She glanced up only rarely from her work whenever a flurry of movement flitted across the corners of her vision. A bird darting from a tree branch here. A janitor sweeping the floors there. Dani paused to push her seat back from the desk and make small talk, asking after the janitor's wife and kids until he shuffled along with a wave, pushing his long-handled broom, which looked more like a breed of shaggy dog than a cleaning implement. She had almost finished grading the stack of papers, when she glanced out the window towards the street. She looked back down at the papers, then did a double take.

That was a student sitting on the curb. She recognized that blue backpack with silver stars. Dani checked the time again. Nearly four in the afternoon now. With a hum and a frown, she returned to grading, but her gaze would wander after each finished page back towards the window.

Finally, she capped the pen and set it down atop the finished stack of papers. She would need to enter those grades into the system later, but that could wait. For now, Dani swept everything into her bag before slinging it over one shoulder. Her keys jangled from their lanyard as she locked up and made her way outside.

Mikey was still crouched on the sidewalk when she approached. Her shoes clacked dully against the pavement, and he turned to look over his shoulder at who was approaching him.

Dani smiled brightly. "Hi!" she said. "You’re still here?"

Mikey nodded, but gave no verbal reply. Some sort of magazine was hanging loosely from his fingers, half open and tucked between his legs as though he had been caught red-handed.

Setting her bag down on the ground, she sat beside him and craned her neck to get a look at the cover he was clearly trying to hide. "Wonder Woman, huh?"

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and he refused to look anywhere near her direction.

"You know," Dani said. "I used to wait up at night to catch all the episodes of the show as they were airing. The Lynda Carter ones? You ever watch it?"

His eyes were wide when he finally turned to look at her. He nodded. "Yeah. I love that show."

"I recorded them all," Dani confided in a whisper, as though the two of them were in on a secret. "Still have them on tape at home, though I haven't watched them in forever."

"My sister gets annoyed when I rewatch stuff too often," Mikey said. He had straightened his legs, and now the comic book was sprawled across his bony knees to reveal a few inked pages.

She nodded towards the thin paper booklet. "I never read the comics, though. Are they any fun?"

It was like opening flood gates. Suddenly, she found herself being regaled about the entire publication history of Wonder Woman, while Mikey gestured wildly with the comic so that the loose pages rustled with every motion of his hands. His face came alight when he spoke. Dani listened with amusement. She perched an elbow on her knees and propped her chin on her hand, nodding along, asking appropriate questions. Once she asked what was obviously a dumb question, for he made a face and explained her error in great detail.

The early autumnal sun was slanting through the trees by the time a boxy silver sedan rolled up to the other side of the street. Dani could see a familiar mop of dark hair and the gleam of glasses through the windows. The car puttered to a halt, engine idling, and Eddie pressed down on the steering wheel so that the horn blared briefly.

Dani waved in his direction and said to Mikey, “That’s my ride. Are you going to be okay out here?” She glanced down the street for any approaching cars. “Someone’s coming to pick you up, right?”

In answer, he held up the issue of Wonder Woman. “It’s okay, Miss Clayton. My sister will be here soon.”

“Okay, then,” said Dani. Slapping her hands on her thighs, she pushed herself to her feet, bag hanging from one shoulder. She walked towards the car with a smile and a wave back at Mikey. “I’ll see you next week!”

He did not answer. He was already nose-deep in his comic book again. Shaking her head with a small chuckle, Dani continued towards where Eddie was waiting for her, tapping at the dashboard. It wasn’t until her hand was on the chromed door handle that she finally registered what Mikey had said.

A sister. He had a sister. At first she’d thought — well, a sister who got annoyed with a brother who hogged the television set would surely be a younger sister. But a sister who drove to pick him up from school was definitely not a younger sister.

“Danielle, are you all right? You look a little pale.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice made her jerk half out of her skin. She hadn’t even realized he had rolled down the window.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching in her throat. “Yeah. Can you just - Can you wait a second? I’ll be —I’ll be just a second.”

Dani shoved her bag through the open window into her seat, then whirled around and marched back across the street. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. She could feel the bite of her short nails into her palms. Something acidic boiled in her stomach, twisting it into knots, until she stood over Mikey, struggling to find her voice.

“You said you had a sister?” she asked. “An older sister? And — And your last name is Taylor?”

Looking puzzled, Mikey shrugged. “Yeah?”

This was impossible. There was no way. For a long moment, Dani stared at him, his brown hair, his brown eyes, his narrow shoulders, the almost familiar shape of his nose and face.

Dani cleared her throat and tried to sound nonchalant. “And what — uh — what’s her name?”

With a quizzical frown up at her, Mikey turned a page of his comic book to where Wonder Woman was punching stars from one of her foes. “My sister?” he asked, as if it were the most bizarre question in the world. “Jamie. Her name’s Jamie.”

“Right,” Dani breathed, feeling like she’d just received a blow to the space beneath her ribcage. “Right. Of course. Sorry. I’ll just — Bye.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode back towards the waiting car. She willed her breathing to even out, even as she felt something coil around her sternum and tighten with every step. Yanking open the door, Dani slipped into the car. She pushed her bag down to her feet and pulled the door shut behind her.

“Everything good?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah,” Dani lied, her voice sounding oddly high even to her own ears. It was difficult to swallow; her throat felt too tight. A rush of blood flooded through her ears in a deafening crash. She stared fixedly at the reflection of her own clenched hands in the slanted windshield, willing them to relax even as her knuckles went whiter. “Fine. Everything’s fine.”

And Eddie didn’t question it at all. He merely shrugged, put the car into gear, and drove away.

—

It stayed with her afterwards. Like a bruise upon her skin, blue and purple, tender to the touch. That cloying sense of the air too thick. Molasses on a hot summer day, the dark shadow that clung to her heels in sunlight, haunting her every step. She couldn’t breathe with it, couldn’t escape it.

Jamie. Jamie, here. Jamie, home.

Somehow Eddie didn’t notice. It completely passed him by, the way her eyes darted around as they stopped to pick up groceries, her clenched fists held tightly to her sides, consumed with the uneasy notion that she might turn around the corner and Jamie would appear, as if summoned by the gravity of Dani’s pounding heart.

It should’ve been easy — like most things eventually — locking it away. Erasing it. She had managed now for years, days, months. Except now the very thought of Jamie being so near again, so tangible again, made her somehow indelible. As if she’d always been there. Waiting. As if she’d never gone. It felt altogether at once like being peeled and stripped away, down to an exposed nerve.

Dani wished she could say she slept easy that night. Instead, after spending much of the witching hour staring at the ceiling, she finally succumbed to the sound of Eddie’s soft snores, his arm splayed across her waist, only to wake up feeling as if she'd been cracked open and hollowed out. Somehow, in between the moments of stumbling out of bed and driving up to the blue bungalow across town with Eddie in the small rental truck behind her, Dani managed to go through the motions of call and response. Her limbs moving, her mouth speaking all of their own accord, and she could only watch it happening. She pulled on the turn signal. The click of the light like an errant drip of a tap. It was only when she was cutting the engine to stare up at the house that was once hers, that something tightened in her chest, shunting her back to earth.

Carson met them by the front steps where he sat in his studded leather jacket that he wore regardless of the weather, two takeout cups in hand.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled, standing and offering one of the cups to Eddie who reached him first. “Thought I was gonna have to drink these myself before they got cold.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, taking the cup. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” he drawled before helping himself inside the house without a backwards glance, taking a long sip from his cup.

Carson stared after him for a moment before turning to Dani with a smirk, and said, “Someone’s in a mood.”

Managing a chuckle, Dani folded her arms around herself. “Yeah, he uh, he’s just eager to get it done, you know? Realtor wants the place empty by three today.”

“Well, in that case,” he said, holding out the last cup, his smirk softening to something kinder.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking it. The brush of his fingers against hers was warm and welcome. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Sure, I did,” he responded with a shrug, and nudged her to take a drink, “Go on.”

At the first sip of what Dani had thought was coffee was instead a sweet and rich hot chocolate. Her eyes went wide.

Carson laughed at the expression on her face. “Thought you could use a little something sweet today.”

She smiled at him over the plastic top and took another longer sip. “Thank you,” she said, “For coming. You didn’t need to, but —”

“— You needed some extra muscle, which I’ve plenty of.” His grin seemed rueful. There lingered in Carson more of the boyish youth that Dani had seen in Eddie so many years ago. He wasn’t as gangly or as broad-shouldered as his older brothers, but he was always, without fail, a comforting presence in an otherwise rowdy O’Mara household.

“And yet none of your other brothers showed up, I see,” Dani said.

“Yeah, well,” Carson shrugged against his leather jacket, hands stuck into the pockets. “Guess, I’m just the only responsible one.”

“I knew there was a reason why I liked you best.”

He winked and lowered his voice. “Don’t let Eddie hear you say that.”

With a snort, Dani reached out and ruffled his perfectly coiffed hair so that it more resembled Eddie’s unruly curls. He ducked his head and swatted her away with a whine of complaint. She laughed when he stepped away to carefully fix his hair in the reflection of her car window.

“You leave your pomade at home again?” Dani teased. “Thought you never left without it.”

She could just make out his face in the reflection, nose scrunching up as he raked his fingers through his dark hair until it was suitably tamed. The door of the house one over opened, and a young man strode out, wearing a bathrobe and clutching a mug of coffee. Immediately Carson straightened, as though he’d been tapped with the wrong end of a cattle prod.

Dani waved. “Hi, Jason!”

Her neighbor lifted a desultory hand while he fumbled with his letterbox. “Last day?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

“Taking the last of it now,” she said.

Jason shut the letterbox and scooped up the newspaper that had been tossed onto his lawn earlier that morning. “Let me know if you need an extra hand.”

“I should be all right. That’s what Carson’s for.” She gestured with her hot chocolate towards Carson, who had his hands jammed back into his pockets and was now leaning against her car with an odd expression on his face.

Jason glanced over and nodded, no more than a jerk of his chin up, before walking back into his house with the newspaper tucked under one arm. The muscles in Carson’s jaw were clenched, standing out like the ropes of a sailing ship.

After the door to Jason’s house had swung shut, Dani asked, “I thought you two were friends?”

Carson grunted a wordless note. “We had a falling out a few months ago. Anyway —” He turned on his heel, grin back in place, and started making his way towards her house. “Show me the heavy stuff. Come on!”

By the time they first made their way inside, Eddie was already hauling out boxes filled with her things. The tops and sides of each cardboard box had been painstakingly labelled in Dani’s hand, the letters neat and blocky. Carson slipped by Eddie with an exaggerated pose as if squeezing through a tight space as they passed one another in the door. Eddie paused, arms laden, and turned his face to Dani while she climbed the steps leading up to the entryway. The extra step allowed her to press a chaste kiss to his cheek and, mollified, he continued on his way towards the truck. Once inside, she found that Carson was already heaving an armchair up with his hands. She moved out of the way so he could trot after his older brother, leaving her momentarily alone.

The house was bare. Most of her things had already been carted away the week before. The transition into their new shared home had been gradual, just like everything else in their relationship. Eddie settling in first and coaxing Dani along as though she were a particularly nervous show dog that had slipped the collar. Looking around now, hands on her hips, Dani felt like an intruder. Like she was an archaeologist who had wandered into someone else's burial site with a rusty torch and hammer.

It almost looked bigger now that it was so empty. Her footsteps echoed too loud on the wooden floors, the sound traveling further and longer. The bare walls once peppered with paintings and photos now like a skeleton expanding its ribs, waiting to expel her in one long sunken breath. Her thumb gradually drifted to her mouth as she took it all in, biting hard at her nail and skin, fixedly eyeing the spot where once a small reading nook used to be.

The sound of footsteps behind her was harsh and loud to her ears. “Hey, what did I tell you about that?” Eddie said from beside her suddenly, his hand gently pulling Dani’s away from her mouth.

She swallowed heavily and pulled her hand carefully back to hold into a fist by her side, and said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. I just —”

“I don’t like you hurting yourself,” he said, frowning. She couldn’t help but let her shoulders slump at the concern in his eyes, and only managed to give him a tenuous smile and a nod. “Look, we’re almost done. Soon we’ll be out of here in no time and we can finally just focus on our home. Just let me and Carson do all the hard work.”

“I can help,” Dani said. “I want to help.”

He sighed. “Danielle -”

“I have my inhaler in the car. I won’t keel over and die,” Dani said.

“Hey, Ed, buddy, what happened to that deadline, huh?” Carson said, leaning heavily on the wall and pointing behind him to the kitchen, “You gonna help me with this thing or not?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with muttered grumbling. Dani grinned after him before catching Carson’s eyes, chuckling and shaking her head as he winked at her before following Eddie.

“Gotta give her a minute to breathe, Ed.” Carson’s voice was soft, but still Dani heard it all the same and wrapped her arms tight around herself.

Clearing her throat, she strode off in the direction of her old bedroom. The bed had been taken away and put in their new spare bedroom for guests who might come to visit. The carpet still bore indentations from where the posts had once sat. Eddie had already been in here; the boxes were gone. Dani glanced around for any last remaining items that might have been forgotten. The closet door was slightly awry, and with a frown she pulled it fully open. There was a single wire coat hanger hooked on the bar that stretched across the closet. Her hand reached out to take it, when she froze.

There, tucked away into the corner beneath one of the built in shelves, was a small wooden box. She could hardly remember the last time she had seen it, let alone opened it. A layer of dust covered the top. Kneeling down, Dani pulled the box out and into her lap. She blew the dust off and had to wipe a bit more with the edge of her sleeve. It was made of plain wood with a bronze latch fastening the lid shut. Her thumb teased the corner of the latch. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before steeling herself and lifting the lid open on squeaky hinges.

Nestled inside were a series of photographs, faded with age. Something clenched in her chest as she touched the first one with trembling fingers.

She and Jamie looked so young, and they were. Barely fifteen. Jamie's arm flung around her shoulder, arm outstretched to snap the photo while she pressed a kiss to Dani's cheek even as Dani laughed and elbowed her ribs. Swallowing down the urge to be sick, she slipped the photo aside to see the next. Jamie was younger still. Her arms were outstretched as she balanced her weight on the narrow steel bar of the abandoned train tracks beyond the fields that surrounded the town. Dani could remember the day she took this with crystal clarity. The days of summer in those years had been longer somehow, stretching on into warm endless nights.

She was a furtive grave robber, flicking through picture after picture, exhuming a past that she hardly recognized herself in now. And pictures weren’t all that were stored here. There was a band shirt that had been half eaten by moths over years of neglect. An old Zippo lighter with scratched edges along the chrome plating. A necklace that was actually just a worn old half dollar coin pierced through and hung from a cheap chain. A cassette tape labelled Jamie’s Mixtape (1978) in a messy slanted scrawl, long missing its protective case. And finally, an old battered copy of Valley of the Dolls, where if she were to flick it open, she would find a pressed blue morning glory hidden among the pages.

She gently ran her hand over them, still trembling as if the living memories within the treasure trove thrummed under her skin with its own heartbeat.

In the distance, she could hear footsteps and the back and forth between Carson and Eddie in the living room as they manoeuvred a couch through the front door. When the footsteps drew closer, approaching down the hall, Dani hurriedly stuffed everything back into the box and shut the lid.

Carson leaned in the doorway. At some point he had shed his leather jacket, so that now he only wore a white undershirt that was two sizes too small, tucked into his jeans. “You good here? We’ve loaded the last of it into the truck.”

“Yeah,” Dani said. She pushed herself upright, clutching the box to her chest as though it were an heirloom. “Yeah, that's everything.”

His eyebrows rose and he nodded towards the box. “What do you got there?”

Dani’s grip tightened. She could feel the grooves of the box pressing into her skin. “Nothing important.”

—

Dani went about her routine on edge. At the supermarket, gripping the shopping cart between her hands and turning down the different aisles. At the gas station, stepping out of her beat up old car to work the pump. At the school, peering out the window at all the parents dropping off their kids in the parking lot. At the local cafe nearest the elementary school, picking up a newspaper and a slice for Hannah. Hoping for a glimpse of Jamie and dreading any encounter with her all at once.

Except Jamie never appeared. And Mikey sat at the back of the class, doodling in his notebook, not paying attention but knowing all the answers regardless whenever Dani called on him to participate. She could always see him after school sitting on the curbside and reading a new comic issue, or thumbing through a book from the paltry school library or scratching at his homework with a pencil. Not once did Dani loiter long enough to see him get picked up, and she felt a stab of irritation that he should be left alone for so long. But it wasn’t her business, and he got along well enough with the other kids during recess.

Dani was still stewing silently over the whole affair at dinner with her future in-laws. She sat at the dining table, chewing at the skin of her thumb, with Carson at one elbow and Eddie at the next. Mike, Judy’s soft-spoken stooping husband, sat at the head of the table, while Judy herself set the last of the platters down and invited everyone to tuck in.

“How’re the kids this year?” Judy asked as she spooned peas onto her plate.

Dani made a noise in the back of her throat, before lowering her hand into her lap. “Yeah, they’re great! I — uh — I actually have a transfer student.”

Judy made a sound to indicate that she was still listening even while she passed a platter across the table to Eddie.

“He’s really smart,” Dani continued. “I don’t really know what to do with him. He — well, he always looks a bit bored, to be honest.”

“Don’t they have some sort of advanced program for kids like that?” Mike asked. He had already tucked into the food even though his plate was only half full.

“I’d need to talk to the parent or guardian first,” Dani said, her stomach flipping at the thought. The peas had made their way around the table to her now, and she slowly scraped the last of them onto an available corner of her plate. Swallowing heavily, Dani concentrated hard on the steady movements of her hands, and said, “Judy, I don’t suppose you’ve heard of anyone new coming to town?”

Judy’s mouth was full. She frowned thoughtfully as she chewed, and swallowed before answering. “No, I haven’t, now that you mention it. I’ll have to ask around the ladies at the book club if they’ve seen anyone.”

Any hope Dani might have nursed of learning something new about Jamie’s presence in town flickered out like a snuffed candle. “Thanks,” she said, already feeling the conversation wander towards other topics. “Can you pass the salt, Carson?”

—

Sitting here in her Sunday best with Eddie’s warm hand in hers and a book of hymns in the other, Dani was sandwiched in the pew between her fiancé and her mother. Karen smelled sharply of cheap mall perfume, her dress pressing in tight on her ribs. The priest’s voice echoed from his place declaming near the altar, but Dani wasn’t listening. She was too preoccupied with the way her heart pounded in her chest, the clench of her stomach and the restless nerves that someone might have seen her.

She hadn’t planned on going to the movies yesterday, not at first. Not until she had seen the ad in Saturday’s morning paper, an art house theater two towns over advertising a one-time showing of Desert Hearts. It had caused such a stir in the community a few years ago that any curiosity Dani had felt toward it had died and shriveled up inside of her. Yet her Saturday afternoon had been free, and Eddie had been mercifully busy after helping her move the last of her things.

And now Dani sat in the same church she’d been going to her entire life, feeling like a marionette whose mouth was puppetted by invisible strings as she joined the others in song. The priest leading them through a hymn wasn’t the same man who baptized Dani as an infant. The bench she was sitting on wasn’t the same she sat in week after week. The woman on her right was virtually nonexistent. The man’s hand she was holding loosely in her left wasn’t the same man who she grew up with, he wasn’t the boy who asked her again and again to marry him.

This Dani, this new Dani, lied to her fiancé and drove an hour out of town the day before with a whispered prayer on her tongue for her car to just hold on for once, for just one more day to see a film that left her blushing scarlet and her stomach dropping not uncomfortably, sitting alone in the dark with a carton of untouched popcorn. This Dani would return to her car, and her first thought would turn to whether this would be the kind of movie Jamie would have picked as her choice of their weekly film showing — knowing immediately that the answer would be 'yes.’ And just as abruptly as the thought appeared, she promptly squashed the idea of even contemplating such a question.

Dani’s voice faltered, wavering over the words as a flash of guilt washed over her when the heat returned to her skin. She looked up at the cross, hanging on the back wall over the priest’s head, and glanced furtively at Eddie to see where he was in the verse, praying no one had seen her stumble. When service finally ended, and the ritualistic gossip on the front steps had been entertained, she allowed herself to be led outside. Eddie’s hand was warm and steady, completely enveloping her own, pulling her to the warm air where it finally felt like she was able to breathe again.

She felt a heady rush of relief when her mom begged off brunch, claiming to suffer from a headache as she walked to her car with a half-hearted wave. Relieved two-fold when Eddie needed to run off to the office for preliminary work for Monday, kissing her on the cheek in a goodbye that she barely registered before rushing off to his car. Until she was only left with Judy.

“So,” Judy asked, and for a brief terrifying moment Dani thought she might know, she might have finally seen her. In the end though all Judy said was: “How about that lunch?”

Judy linked their arms, pulling her in close until all Dani could do was smile and say, “Lead the way.”

The bistro Judy directed them to was relatively new, Dani had passed it multiple times over the last couple weeks but had never actually gone in, always driving by with casual curiosity and a bemused but charmed smile at the name: A Batter Place.

“You’re gonna love it,” Judy said, guiding Dani in with an arm linked in her own, “Their macaroons are to die for.”

Gamely, Dani smiled along to Judy’s enthusiasm as Judy pointed to various fixtures of the restaurant, steadily ignoring the strain building in the back of her neck. It wouldn’t be fair to say that Judy made her nervous. There were too many good intentions behind her warm eyes and her warm hugs, always with her hands full of containers of hearty food, always holding on a little longer than Dani expected, like she was afraid Dani would drift away. Judy, she knew, at least cared.

Perhaps that was why, after settling in their seats and ordering their lunch, Dani hid her hands under the table, fingers trembling as they picked at the skin of her thumb.

“So, how have you been, honey?” Judy asked over her cup of coffee, smiling that kind, good-intentioned smile. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you since school started up again.”

A small pressure valve released in Dani’s chest, and she finally allowed herself a real smile. “I’ve been keeping busy, and well — you know how it is with a new school year. This year especially is different.”

“Because of the higher grade?”

“Right. And I just — I want things to be perfect, you know?” Dani said, and chuckled ruefully, “Though twenty-five twelve year olds will certainly be a challenge.”

This she could manage. This she could at least be grateful for, the way Judy allowed the conversation to steer towards something that filled Dani with a sense of purpose, smiling proudly at her over the din of conversation around them with no mention of Eddie or long overdue wedding planning.

Judy took a pointed sip of her coffee. “Well, I know you like the challenge, but you can’t forget to take care of yourself,” she said, her lips pulling into a familiar smile. One to be used when nearing a cornered animal. Dani’s stomach sank, when Judy continued, “Now, I know you and Eddie need time to get used to living together, doing all the things couples have to learn to do alone but, you don’t have to steer clear of the house forever. I know we all recently just had dinner together but —”

Dani glanced away.

“— You could come over at any time. Like yesterday! What were you up to yesterday? I would have made lasagna for you.”

“Oh, uh —” Dani gave a nervous breathy chuckle, hoping to hide the grimace at the memory of the two women who had stared brazenly at her when she had exited the art house theater yesterday, Dani in her too bright blouse and high jeans, looking frazzled and out of place. She took a long sip of her coffee, hoping to hide the same feeling under her skin now. “You know. Busy.”

Judy waved her explanation away with that same smile. “Oh, well, never mind that. It doesn’t matter now. There’s always next weekend,” she said, and her hand reached over to clasp Dani’s before she could hide it again. “I’m just hoping I get more time to spend with my favorite future daughter-in-law before things get too crazy. Wedding planning and teaching a class of twenty-five kids is one thing, but thinking about raising a baby is another.”

A moment passed before Dani could process the words. A baby. Of course.

“Oh,” was all Dani managed to say, a polite smile frozen on her face as Judy’s grip on her hand tightened in a way that anyone else would have found comforting. The hand that Dani so wanted to pull away, to press against her chest. A pressure building inside her ribs, pulling her skin taught and straining at the edges. A ringing in her ears that sounded more and more like the whistle of a tea kettle or the whine of an over-revved engine.

She was only saved by the grace of their food arriving, the pressure abating to something manageable as Judy freed Dani’s hand to make room for their plates. It gave Dani the opportunity to down half of her coffee, hot enough to scald, and to clench a fist under the table, her nails pressing hard into the soft skin of her hand.

At the first bite of food, Judy hummed and sank back into her seat. “Now that is delicious,” she said, gesturing with her fork. “Go on, take a bite.”

Dani took advantage of the moment, letting the previous topic of conversation pass over them untouched as she pulled her own forkful of food in her mouth. She blinked in surprise.

“Wow,” she said after swallowing, sharing an incredulous chuckle with Judy. “That is really good.”

“I’m telling you, this new chef knows what he’s doing,” Judy said with a grin, as if she had known exactly how Dani would have reacted.

It should have been comforting, being so well understood. And for the most part it was. Afterall, Dani had spent much of her youth at Judy’s table, being fed day in and day out as if she were Judy’s own. Always having a safe haven. A home away from home, where she would be welcome. No questions asked. It should have been an absolute solace. Yet somehow, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being made of glass. As if she were standing there and Judy was looking right through her at someone else that didn’t exist.

The bell attached to the door rang as it swung open, and the sound drew her back to the table, almost startling her. She swallowed down an unexpected thickness in her throat, ignoring that steady pressure in her ribs, and shared another unassuming smile with Judy, taking a second bite.

“We should come here again,” Dani said, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure that was building in her lungs.

“Then it’s a date. Next Sunday.” Judy smiled wide.

It was so easy, making Judy happy, making her smile wide and bright like she’d won the lottery. It was something Dani was good at, pleasing others. The very thought of speaking up and potentially ruining the moment was enough to cause a vein of dread to thread its way through her. Yet something in that moment caused Judy’s smile to flicker, the sound of the bell ringing again as the front door swung open with a squeak of unoiled hinges. Judy’s eyes glanced over somewhere behind Dani’s shoulder and they slowly widened to an expression Dani had only seen once before — when Eddie announced their engagement during family dinner.

“Jamie Taylor?”

Dani tensed and turned around, and sure enough, there she was. Jamie Taylor herself. Dark jeans, big work boots, and a brown jacket, strolling into the bistro like she’d never left town. Like the air from Dani’s lungs hadn’t been sucked out by a gut punch releasing every single pressure valve at the very sight of her.

“Oi, Sharma! Whatever happened to you saying you could fix those hinges without my help?” Jamie’s voice rang clear across the room.

“Danielle, honey, you didn’t tell me that Jamie was back,” Judy said in a rush of breath, already out of her seat and walking toward Jamie like a woman on a mission, as if there wasn’t a hurricane forming within Dani’s chest. As if a swell of feeling wasn’t rushing through her as she sat unmoving with wide eyes attached to the lines of Jamie’s back, to the curl of her hair, unchanged, unkempt, and yet completely different.

Whatever Dani had expected to feel upon hearing that voice again, it wasn’t to feel all of it at once. She didn’t know which feeling to land on, watching Jamie turn at the sound of Judy’s voice, catching sight of the familiar lines of Jamie’s face as they twisted in surprise and fell into a charming smile as Jamie conceded to a tight hug from Judy; the fluttering of happiness, the rush of anxiety, the desperate desire to flee, the shock that belied the anger and muted resentment.

In the end, Dani just sat there, unable to move and unable to look away.

The pair pulled out of the hug, with Judy briefly and affectionately framing Jamie’s face with her hands like she used to. And Jamie rolled her eyes good naturedly with a crooked smile, burying her hands in her pockets. It was like no time at all had passed. They were teenagers again, and Judy was sending them off back home from dinner with warm hugs and piling their hands with leftovers in tupperware.

When Judy gestured over towards their table towards Dani, it was all she could do to not run and excuse herself to the washroom, to not slip out the back door. But it was too late, tension coiling in her body as Jamie’s head turned towards Dani and their eyes finally met.

It was suddenly incredibly hard to breathe. Dani blinked, and the look on Jamie’s face at the sight of her — startled, mouth agape — was gone, and all that was left was something entirely unfamiliar. A polite placid smile as Judy talked her ear off, answering Judy’s questions and gesturing across the counter towards a handsome man with a thick moustache wearing an apron. Even so, Jamie only had eyes for Dani, her gaze occasionally roving back, her expression unreadable.

Before Dani could do more than stare, Judy was guiding Jamie back to their table, a hand on her back. Dani’s stomach twisted itself into a knot at their approach. Her heart began crashing against her ribs until it was all she could hear. Jamie was looking at her with that crooked grin, and Dani didn’t know what else to do but stand from her seat, faintly dazed, a hand brushing against invisible lint and wrinkles along her sky blue dress.

“Look who I found!” Judy said as they pulled up to the table, as if Dani hadn't been on the verge of a nervous breakdown in the last minute. The last decade, if she were being honest with herself.

All Dani could do was give a trembling smile. “Jamie,” she said, almost breathless, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “Hi.”

Jamie’s grin shifted into something like a smirk, gaze drifting over Dani so fast that she felt it on her skin like a flash fire. “Danielle,” she said, and Dani’s smile faltered. “Been a minute.”

“It has,” Dani said in between barely gritted teeth, the feeling in her stomach souring.

“I was just telling Jamie how this is the first time I’ve brought you here,” Judy interrupted, oblivious as ever. Jamie’s smirk dropped back into something softer, an eyebrow quirked and her head tilting curiously. “How today of all days, that we all walk in the same restaurant together. It must be kismet.”

“Don’t know about that, Mrs. O’Mara. Was never much one for kismet,” Jamie said with a shrug, looking so much like she’s sixteen again that a dull pressure returned to Dani’s chest. “World’s too chaotic for that.”

“And yet here you are.” Judy shuffled back into her seat and gestured to Jamie. “Come, come sit. Just for a while until your takeout is ready.”

It was only by the grace of luck and Judy’s affection for Jamie, that she gestured toward the chair next to her instead of Dani. Jamie didn’t argue, taking the seat, and Dani following after, almost a second delayed from the shock of it all. She could feel Jamie’s eyes on her as she settled in her chair, but Dani kept her attention low and focused on her food, feeling distinctly like she was in a dream.

“Danielle, truly, I can’t believe you neglected to tell me Jamie was back,” Judy admonished with a teasing grin.

She clenched her teeth. Dani had a hard time believing it herself. “Must’ve slipped my mind," she said.

“How long have you been back again, honey?”

“About two months now,” Jamie said. At the admission, Dani finally pulled her eyes away from the table to look up at Jamie, lounging back in her seat like she had all the time in the world, noticeably avoiding Dani’s gaze.

Two months. Two months, and not even a phone call. Not even a letter. Dani took another heady swallow of her now lukewarm coffee in an effort to ground herself. Some things just never changed, she guessed.

“We were so worried when you left, after — after everything, especially. We all were. I thought about you for so long afterwards. Kept you in my prayers,” Judy said, and while the words were sobering with the memories of those days, Jamie’s expression remained unchanged, detached and ambiguous, the corner of her mouth quirked.

“Then I guess I have you to thank,” Jamie said, “All that praying must’ve done something good. Mikey and I have been getting on quite nicely, if I do say so myself.”

Judy gasped, a hand clutching at her chest. “Oh, Mikey! That sweet boy, how is he? Oh, I can’t believe it’s been so long. He must be — what? Eleven now?”

“Twelve actually,” Jamie said, then chuckled. It was something new. The way her eyes turned just a bit brighter, her smile more gentle, as she reached into her pocket to dig out a beat up leather wallet, flipping it open towards Judy. Judy gasped again, holding onto the wallet with a laugh. “Twelve years old and already reaching my chin," Jamie continued. "The little gremlin’s gonna have me beat by next year at this rate, I swear.”

“He’s wonderful,” Judy said, her eyes alight with emotion, “Gosh, he looks just like you. Except for the eyes, those sweet brown eyes. He’s definitely going to be a heartbreaker.”

“Not on my bloody watch,” Jamie grumbled.

“Have you seen him yet, Danielle?” Judy held out the wallet to Dani, who had to refrain from recoiling back, as if Judy was holding out a live snake.

“I have,” Dani admitted quietly, “He’s one of my students, actually.”

“Oh, so that’s what all those questions were about the other day,” Judy said, and tapped Jamie playfully on her arm resting on the table with her wallet. “What did I tell you? Kismet.”

Jamie flipped the wallet shut and returned it to her pocket. “Mikey did mention the name once or twice. Miss Clayton this, Miss Clayton that, and I thought: what are the chances?”

Dani swallowed down a scoff and the bitterness brewing in the back of her throat. Her left hand ached from clutching it so tight in her lap, knuckles white, crescent-shaped grooves in her palm. She stretched her hand out and ran it through her hair, her fingers trembling as they smoothed down the gentle waves and curls she put in that morning.

“Ah, so he’s done it then,” Jamie said, apropos of nothing. She leaned forward on the table, staring so abruptly and intently that Dani shifted away in her own seat slightly, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

It was the first time Jamie had fully addressed her since that singular hello. Dani frowned, that ever present knot in her stomach twisting tighter. “Sorry?”

“That nice big shiny rock on your hand.” Jamie gestured down to the aforementioned rock, and sure enough, there was her engagement ring, shining bright against the afternoon light pouring through the window. “Must’ve cost a damn fortune.”

Dani had thought the same, when Eddie had dropped to his knee, proffering up the box where the ring lay, his face flickering through a wide array of emotions — adoration, anxiety, hope. At the time all Dani could think, staring down at the large square cut diamond, was that it looked heavy.

“But isn’t it gorgeous?” Judy gushed, reaching out to grasp Dani’s hand to pull it closer for Jamie to see. Dani breathed out an awkward laugh at the sudden motion but let herself be dragged along. “I went to help him pick it out, and — gosh, well, we all know how many times he’s asked over the years. Our Danielle always liked to keep him on his toes. I just about died at the news when they officially announced the engagement a few months later.”

Jamie whistled low. “I can imagine,” she drawled.

Judy continued to ramble about the announcement. She released the hand that Dani tried to surreptitiously and swiftly return under the table, hoping to hide the desire to shrink under the table as well. Meanwhile Jamie seemed to be only half-listening, watching Dani with a tilted head and a sharp glance that left Dani feeling like a strip of overexposed film. Her eyes strayed to Jamie's old scar against her will, landing on the long stretch of a pale line that started from her lower lip and descended down towards her chin. It was usually hard to see, but today it was easy to find in the light of the room.

Dani swallowed thickly and glanced away.

“So, how’d he do it?”

“Mmm?” Dani looked back up, a little dazed.

Jamie’s head tilted pointedly towards her. “Ed,” she said. “How’d he go about it this time? To be honest with you, I had my bets placed on senior prom night, like he’d always planned. Flowers in the park after the dance, and all that rubbish.”

“He told you that?” Dani frowned.

“Wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“Oh.” Dani fiddled with the ring, glancing down at it. “No, it was um — “ She smiled, a frail subdued thing, only to fold her right hand over it, covering the diamond so that it dug into her palm, “ — it was during a dinner date.”

Jamie lifted an eyebrow. “In public?”

Dani nodded. “Yeah.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed, looking somewhat horrified.

“Language, sweetie,” Judy piped in, seemingly instinctively.

And like clockwork, Jamie ducked her head sheepishly. “Sorry,” she said, not looking sorry at all.

Judy laughed, patting Jamie’s arm. “Gosh, just look at us,” she breathed, her eyes shining as they bounced between Dani and Jamie. “I still can’t believe it. Me and my girls back together again. Who’d have thought?”

Dani breathed out a chuckle, her cheeks aching from the force of holding a smile in place, not knowing what else to say. And what could she say, really? That none of this felt familiar? That it all felt so wrong? That after years of absence, to finally be just arm’s length away from Jamie, only to feel like she was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face?

No. No, that wasn’t right. She worried her lower lip between her teeth, but Jamie had never stopped watching her. A shared look passed between them and it was there, finally, that she found something warm and tangible. The ghost of a memory of sitting across the table from each other at Judy’s during dinner, sharing a secretive knowing smile, while Judy gushed over Dani’s help in the kitchen, or admonished Jamie for yet another skinned knee. A smile pulled at the corners of Dani’s mouth, slow and real. Jamie blinked, her gaze softening as she mirrored Dani’s smile, and for the first time in a long time, Dani felt something in her chest unspool.

A bell rang. Jamie glanced away, and the moment was gone, leaving Dani chilled in its absence as if she had stepped out from a warm building and into a storm.

“That’s my cue,” Jamie said, sounding just as she had before, as if nothing had transpired between them. “Can’t let the kid starve without some lunch.”

She moved to stand but Judy’s hand held her in place. “Don’t think you can get away again this time without at least letting me give you my number,” Judy reprimanded not unkindly. "We got a new one at the house, you'll be surprised to hear."

Grinning crookedly, Jamie said, “And I imagine you’ll be wanting mine, then?”

Judy pulled out a pen from her purse and waggled it back and forth. “You know me too well.”

Grabbing a spare napkin, Judy jotted down a series of numbers. “Now don’t you forget to give me a call, all right? I want to hear all about your time away,” she said, handing over the pen and napkin for Jamie to rip out her piece, and note down her own number. Dani’s eyes strayed down to the confident, angled numbers, just barely able to decipher them from her vantage point. “And I hope you know, you and Mikey are welcome any time over for dinner. I want to meet that young man. See if he’s anything like his older sister.”

The words were fond, but Jamie snorted all the same. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. O’Mara. He’s my better half.”

Dani rose to her feet out of politeness when Judy stood to give Jamie a parting hug. For a terrifying moment, she thought Jamie might expect one from her as well, but Jamie only lifted her eyebrows and nodded before turning towards the counter to collect her order. She didn’t glance in Dani’s direction again as she left, pushing through the glass door and striding off down the street with the breeze in her hair. Dani watched her go, jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth together.

Judy sat, and Dani followed suit as though she were simply mimicking Judy’s movements. “Jamie Taylor back from the dead after ten years. Imagine that.” Judy chuckled to herself and picked up her fork. “Feels just like old times, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Dani breathed. “Just like old times.”

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #dani clayton/jamie #bring home a haunting #dani clayton #jamie taylor #cfau #roman writes #FINALLY

129 notes · View notes

some-cookie-crumbz · 3 years

Text

A Little Charismatic

A Little Charismatic Fandom: My Hero Academia Pairing: FuyuPress Summary: FuyuPress Week 2021 Day 1 Prompt Fill: Life Swap - Never said who had to swap lives and I’m running on too little sleep and too much caffeine to stay in the lines. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more.

Sako Atsuhiro liked to consider himself an observant fellow, if not also a bit of a creature of habit. He had a handful of places that he enjoyed frequenting, where he knew his face was safe. He could walk about in his usual work garb, with or without his mask and hat, and none of the other patrons would bat an eye. It wasn’t because the company he found in these places was particularly trustworthy or noble sorts, however; oh, no, they were far from that. He had just taken the time to establish that, despite his seemingly frail physique, he was not a force to be tested. He was always watching, always vigilant, watching to make sure that men conducted themselves like proper gents in the company of potential romantic partners. And if not? Well, he may have done a sleight of hand trick to remove a wandering hand or two.

It wasn’t often that there were new faces wandering around his usual haunts, so when there were, he noticed. That night was one such example.

She’d been settled at the bar when he walked in, another bar patron already trying to get cuddly with her. Judging by the glower in those bright baby blues, she was less than impressed. She was an odd one to place as Atsuhiro moved past them, her eyes straying from her suitor to chase him instead. Ah, that was unsurprising. Many a woman’s eyes had wandered over him, taking his attire to mean he must be some brand of wealthy and useful. They’d come over and start up with the fluttering lashes and slow, playful touches while asking for a drink.

It was always entertaining to watch how their expressions shifted when he insisted they have separate tabs.

It took her a full ten minutes to shake the guy she was dealing with at the bar, but once she’d gotten him off, she approached. “This seat taken?” she asked, her hands laced behind her back and head tilted to one side. He chuckled as he sized her up, taking in the leather jacket tossed over a halter dress and combat boots. The damn thing was incredibly low cut and he was quick to avert his eyes, instead taking a sip of the beer in his hands.

“Not at all,” he hummed, indicating the booth seat across from him with the wave of a hand.

She offered him a polite bow before settling into the seat, a nice change of pace. Usually the women that approached would slide in beside him first go, but she seemed to have some iota of manners, at least. “You are a difficult man to track, you know,” she mused slowly, “Mr. Compress.” He froze mid-sip to stare at her, doing his best to keep the shock from showing on his face. Very few knew of his moniker, even when he was out and about in his full regalia, so for her to address him so matter-of-factly… She was a threat and would need to be disposed of. As if sensing the bleak thoughts running through his head, she held her hands up in a placating manner to him. “Don’t worry, I’m not a narc. Or affiliated with one. I don’t think many of the people around here are, in fact.”

“Whatever it is you are trying to play at, dear, you are wasting your time,” he quipped, turning his attention away from her to the bar keep. He seemed to be more focused on a loud, clearly drunk man arguing the merits of his tab, thankfully.

He kept her in his peripheral view, though. Just in case.

She blinked before her face morphed to show hurt. “So quick to disregard me… Ah, that seems to be a trend with men in my life,” she lamented with a long-suffering sigh. He got the distinct impression that most of her behavior was an act. One of her legs shifted out to prod at the side of his calf gently, trying to coax him to look at her again. “Won’t you at least hear me out?”

He scoffed but did return his attention to her. It was the least he could do and might yet yield some further information to help him discern her authentic intentions. “There is no reason to do so outside of wasting both our time,”

“What about a game, then? You seem like a man who fancies a fun game,” she suggested.

A game? Well… He couldn’t help but be intrigued by the hand she was laying down. “Depending on what the wager is, I may be inclined to humor you,”

“Here,” she shifted to rummage through her jacket pockets. After a moment, she dropped three items onto the tabletop between them; a lighter, a small vial of some kind of liquid, and a yarn and bead bracelet. With the items spread out, she picked up the bracelet and dangled it off her index finger, before indicating the other two items with her free hand. “Use your Quirk to put these three items away. Only one of them - this one here - is of any value to me. If I can get this one back from you, you’ll agree to comply with the request I have for you.” When she spoke, she waggled her index finger to attract his attention to the bracelet briefly, before dropping her chin into her other hand.

He blinked owlishly, contemplating her game. It was in his favor, yes, but then it became a question of what she could offer him in return. “And if you are unsuccessful?”

“I’ll comply with a request of yours. No limits,” she drawled the last two words out in a leading way, her fingers lightly drumming away along her own jawline. He wrinkled his nose a bit at her implication, but found it could be a rather useful trap. After all, there would be no indication as to which marble held what once he used his Quick to compress them. Only he would be able to say for certain, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t easily swap them around if she picked the right one. There was much more to gain in this than he had to lose. “So, what do you say?” She stuck her hand out towards him, beaded bracelet still hanging on.

“Very well,” he said, taking her hand for a brief shake before sliding the bracelet off. Judging by the yarn on it, the thing was old and may be in dire need of some new yarn or replacing outright. He waved the thought off as he compressed it and then set to doing the same to the other two items. Under the table, he was sure to shuffle them around, placing the marble with her bracelet in the back pocket of his pants. He waited until she stepped away to get a drink to make that adjustment, sly grin on his lips. There was no way she’d be able to determine it was there as he wouldn't present it as an option, and then he could easily be rid of her. “There we are now. Just be aware, however, that I am very wise to the tricks a young minx like you is prone to attempting.”

“Is that so?” she hummed.

From there, they started up a fun little back and forth. He tried to get more answers to why, exactly, she knew his street moniker and why she’d been looking for him, but she flitted about the subjects using redirection. It was Take-aPenny, Leave-a-Penny logic she was trying to enact and he couldn’t help but find it amusing. It was clear she had some kind of experience with this kind of situation, with having to negotiate ones hand without tipping it too much. A flurry of questions came to his mind at the thought. She was such a young, demure young lady once she was engaged in a conversation. Something about those mannerisms and the idea of her living her whole life on the streets simply didn’t add up quite right to him.

It did, however, give him a fun little mystery to chase around.

After a good while she shifted to sit more upright, hands folded neatly in front of her. Her eyes were alight with mirth as she repositioned herself. “Well, I think that’s enough of that. I came here to accomplish a goal, not play footsie all night,” She stretched languidly and her gaze shifted from his face down lower, giggling a bit at what she saw.

He blinked twice before glancing downward himself and uttering a small short curse.

His eyes widened as he suddenly registered what, exactly, she’d been playing at all along. A glance downwards revealed a layer of ice sticking to the outer traces of his body, over his legs, hips and wrists specifically. Given that he was wearing his full gear minus his mask, of course he hadn’t noticed the change in temperature! She must have been assessing him during their conversation, skirting about with her verbal distraction while leaking small traces of her Quirk to gauge his reaction...

A clever ruse that he’d fallen into with regrettable ease.

“What in the devil did you do?” he spat, keeping his voice low as his eyes scanned the bar. No one else had noticed their exchange, thankfully. The last thing he needed was other hooligans taking advantage of this situation.

She tilted her head with a feigned innocence. “Hmm? What’s wrong? Don’t like that I used my Quirk too?” The faux concern melted into a mischievous grin of delight as she moved from her perch across from him to sit beside him. She nudged the chunk of ice pinning his legs down with the toe of her boot as she settled in nice and close. “I never said that it was against the rules, you know. And it’s only fair that if you got to use yours, I get to use mine. Wouldn’t that be the gentleman’s viewpoint on this matter?” Her tone was light and playful, but he could cast the mocking wisps underlying her words. Without further preamble, she reached over to rummage through his coat pockets as well as the pockets of his slacks, humming to herself as she ignored his quiet snarls to cease her actions. She leaned back just a bit once she gathered seven marbles in total, swirling one in a circle in her palm. “Ah, there’s more in these pockets of yours than just what’s mine. How uncouth! Scandalous even!”

He tried to twist himself free but the ice pinned up along his wrists and hips didn’t budge an inch. Not even a thin crack was visible, to his uncensored chagrin. “What game are you playing at, wretch?”

“Just the game we agreed to,” she hummed. She peered at his marbles with an appraising eye before stuffing them into the pocket of her tattered denim shorts instead. “Since I’m the obvious winner here, I guess that means you have no choice but to abide by my rule, hm?”

“Name your damn price, then,” he growled lowly.

She giggled and leaned closer, walking two fingers up along his chest to his face. “You’re going to come with me to have a meeting. With. My. Boss,” Each of her final few words was followed by a mocking tap to the tip of his nose. If he could move his hands, he would have firmly shoved her from his personal space, but instead settled for jerking his head to the side. It only made her Cheshire grin grow wider. He could almost see a feline tail swaying in delight behind her, he swore. “He has a very… prosperous job opportunity for you. One that I think you’ll be very much inclined to take.”

This young woman was dangerous, and he was unclear if that was unappealing to him or not.

#My Hero Academia #FuyuPress #Mr. Compress #Sako Atsuhiro #Todoroki Fuyumi #FuyuPress Week 2021 #my fics #I am surprisingly pleased with this one #All things considered

10 notes · View notes

novantinuum · 3 years

Link

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences

Words: 2.2K~

Summary: A series of shorts detailing what might’ve happened in the moments after I Am My Monster, told from six different points of view.

Greg apparently had a LOT on his mind, because this was supposed to be short and instead it’s over 2000 words, ahah. Final chapter!

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3

Chapter warning: Allusions to past non-canon character suicide.

____

Chapter 6: Greg

Hours pass.

Bismuth makes quick and quiet work of replacing the cracked slider door in Steven’s room while he sleeps, and secures a thick tarp over the open front of the house to keep the coastal breeze somewhat at bay until she can finish her repairs to the windows and siding. She warns that might take a day or two. Garnet, meanwhile, busies herself the rest of the afternoon and evening fielding all of the Diamonds’ frazzled calls, and reassuring them of the boy’s current stability. Pooling their knowledge, Dr. Maheswaran and Peridot make sure to confirm that. Beyond some minor scarring, neither his organic or Gem half seems to exhibit any serious physical health conditions in consequence of what happened today, news which works to ever so slightly lift the air of the household. With no other concrete tasks to complete, Pearl, Amethyst, Lapis, Connie, and Greg all rotate between sweeping debris off the floor, wandering the beach to mentally recuperate, and dutifully sitting at Steven’s side as he rests. It may not sound like a lot, but alas the level of emotional labor demanded by such a situation is immense.

All in all, the sun’s long since dipped below the horizon by the time Greg finally collapses onto the mattress laid out in the back of his van, craving if but a moment of privacy and respite from all the chaos. It’s been... an insufferably long day, to put it lightly. Busy. Tons of cleaning, and intercepting nosy neighbors, and bedside monitoring...

He offered to take the first night shift watching Steven a few minutes ago, but Pearl must’ve noticed the dark circles creeping ever wider under his eyes, because she proceeded to gently overturn his offer and remind him of humanity’s daily sleep requirement. And she’s right, of course. He can’t stay up as long as he used to in his twenties anymore. Plus, he probably deserves some time to himself after everything that’s transpired. There’s plenty of Gems left in the house who can keep watch, after all. Steven will be fine for a few hours. Surely nothing else can happen when he’s asleep, right?

Right??

Exhaustedly slumping against the side wall, Greg offers a glassy, vacant stare at the contacts list of his phone, roughly wiping the damp from his cheeks with his other hand as his thumb hovers over one of the numbers. Does he dare drag someone else into this whole situation? Surely the kinder solution would be to refrain from widening the circle any more, from letting anyone else learn about today’s harrowing events. And yet if he fails to find a proper outlet for the raw emotions all of this has violently hauled to the surface, he fears he just may suffer a mental break himself, repressed memories bursting like a vicious flood through the dam he desperately tried to seal them behind all those years back. Much of this is just... far too familiar.

His phone slips right through his trembling hands as the cruel reality of what he witnessed today finally begins to carve its indelible presence in his mind. A strained sob leaking from between his tightly pursed lips, he buries his head between his knees, clutching at the worn bottom hem of his jean shorts like an infant to a parent’s finger. Small. Vulnerable.

Helpless.

His son... oh stars, his only son, he—

He can’t talk about any of this to the Gems; they wouldn’t wholly grasp the uniquely human nature of his concerns. And he doesn’t feel comfortable discussing these matters with Dr. Maheswaran, especially not after the stern words she dealt to him back at the hospital. He’s burdened her enough already, by this point. No, there’s only one fellow human he feels close enough with to engage in this sort of conversation.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he reaches for the phone he dropped on the mattress. Turns it on. Nervously clamps down on his bottom lip as he selects his cousin’s contact and dials.

The passing heartbeats slamming against his ribs are almost nauseating in their needy clamor as he waits, his calloused fingers tapping against the thick rubber of his phone case. Andy’s never been a particularly tech savvy guy, so honestly, it’s well within reason he might not even carry his phone on his person to answer. And that’d be fine, really. In fact, he might even prefer it, since he’s still not confident he’s emotionally prepared to discuss any of this at this precise moment, anyways. But just as he’s beginning to undergo mental preparations for what on Earth he might leave as a voicemail message, his older family member finally picks up.

“Greg?” Andy’s gravelly voice rings through, sounding somewhat tinny through their connection. “Hey, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? How’s the ol’ Universe family unit doin’?”

“Not great, honestly,” he narrowly manages in response, his throat constricting tight. “That’s kinda why I’m calling, if you have the time to listen?”

“Heh. I’m a drifter, you know I ain’t got no schedule. Carry on.”

“Well... geeze, how do I put this. There was, uh... a bit of an incident today. With Steven.”

“An incident?” his cousin questions, marked worry immediately painting his tone. “The kid okay??”

He falls silent for a few seconds upon this question, threading his hyperactive digits through the split ends in his hair on automatic, a stress-induced habit. “Unclear,” he says, a slight quiver making itself intimately known in his words. “I mean, physically, at the moment, yes, but—“

He cuts off once more. It suddenly occurs to him that little of today’s events would make sense to Andy without providing the appropriate context. Or, at least, what little context he’s capable of giving as a father. It’s still terrifying to admit the truth to himself— that he doesn’t possess the full story. That he hasn’t been paying close enough attention. That, in many ways, he willfully blinded himself to all the troubling events transpiring around his son throughout the years, foolishly believing that if he didn’t involve himself... that if he simply stayed out of the Gems’ hair... everything would go to plan, and Steven would finally receive the training he needed. He didn’t expect things would grow so complicated.

He didn’t expect that his teenage son would have to march into battle carrying nothing but his wits and a shield time and time again.

With a weary sigh and a quick apology, to which Andy brushes off, Greg begins to weave a verbal picture of everything that’s transpired across the last few days. First, the hospital call. Rushing home from tour, only to find his son giant and flushed pink, literally filling an entire room with the sheer volume of his trauma. The shattered x-ray in his chart, hinting towards hidden hurts that— before all this— even Steven seemingly hadn’t processed or quantified. Then, the road trip. The unwanted reminders of his childhood. That blasted CD. His expression sobers as he describes the fateful argument they had on the road home, one which lead to his son accidentally breaking the steering wheel and flipping the van. Next... his disappearance. No texts for four whole days, which is so unlike him. He was worried sick. And the next time he saw him, he was eight feet tall, glowing, and painfully manic in behavior, with each new sentence spilling from his mouth revealing an even more heartbreaking picture of the sort of poor mental state he’d spiraled into. It was nothing short of a father’s worst nightmare, propelled into horrifying, vivid reality.

Nothing in this corner of the galaxy could’ve prepared him for the primal surge of terror and anguish he was engulfed within when that nightmare distorted and transformed even further.

His only son... colossal and coated in thick scales and spines, sclera black as night... roughly clawing at this unfamiliar form, smashing his skull against the cliffside, roaring with an inner pain so primal that the sound now haunts the depths of his very soul—

“I- you remember what happened with cousin Jo, back when we were young?” Greg says softly once he’s caught Andy up with the details of situation, his voice frail and unsteady, the tone of a man helplessly marooned amidst his anxieties. “Before she was sent to that mental rehab place? Well, I’m... with the addition of Gem magic, it almost felt like that. I mean, h-he’s fine for now, we have him resting, but... but I’m just so scared he won’t come out of this, like her, a-a-and that one day he’ll—“

A mewling sob bubbles up in his throat, swiftly severing that train of thought. N-no. No, he refuses to even utter that horrible idea out loud! After all, a world without Steven in it isn’t worth envisioning.

Andy’s eventual response— albeit tinged with a justified shade of awkwardness, given the emotionally charged nature of this conversation— is filled with genuine compassion, and for that he’s dearly thankful.

“Aw, hell... Greg, I’m- I’m so sorry. I, uh- I could fly over, if any of ya’ need me? For emotional support, or whatever?”

Upon this kind offer, he inhales deep to steady his breath, and wipes away dewy beads of moisture from the corner of his eyes, desperately hoping that he can mitigate the pitiful wavering of his voice over the phone. He’s gotta fight to reliably keep some form of composure in front of other people, damnit. His kid can’t have his dad breaking down around him too, of course.

“No, you’ve got places to be,” he replies evenly, pressing his thumb and pointer against one of his aching temples. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“You ain’t asking,” he retorts, the eye-roll evident in his tone. “I’m offering. Listen- family takes care of family, y’hear? And I’m only about a day’s flight away, anyways. It’s really the least I could do.”

He sighs. Absentmindedly tugs at a thick strand of his hair. Offers a long, contemplative stare at the rickety age-worn handle affixed to the inside of the van’s back doors. Truth be told— ignoring his deep-seated guilt at dragging Andy into all this to begin with— he’d love having another family member around to embrace, especially a human one who can more deeply understand the crux of his anxieties about this delicate situation. But in the end, he shouldn’t be prioritizing his own feelings and comfort. He’s not the one in crisis, his son is.

Desperately hoping he’s making the right choice, Greg flexes his fingers, and acquiesces to the offer, on one condition: only if Steven consents to having visitors, once he’s awake.

Andy hums in approval. “Understood. Don’t wanna overload the poor guy with any surprise visits, or whatever.”

“Yeah. The last thing I want to do is push him too hard, too fast.”

He pauses, braving waves of parental grief to spend a moment to reflect on Steven’s emotional progression over the past few months... a stray negative comment here, an unusually forlorn mannerism there... All of them events that, in isolation, wouldn’t point to anything more than your standard ‘teenage angst,’ but when observed in strong, unceasing patterns, begin to reveal deeply harrowing truths about the state of an individual’s self-image. How did he never notice? Why wasn’t he there to catch him in his fall?

“I think he hates himself,” he says quietly, his voice hitching up at the end. “He didn’t say so directly, but- but I can sense it. And I don’t know how to help him, I-I... I don’t know if I can.”

“Nonsense,” his cousin scoffs, “‘course ya’ know what to do! What does any good father worth their salt give their sons?”

Unable to evade the momentary temptation of feeling miserable and sorry for himself, he slumps back against the wall, giving a weak shrug that his current audience would never see.

“I dunno, maybe a stable, safe childhood? Not growing up poor as dirt in a van?”

“No, you numbskull,” Andy immediately cuts back, “you love on ‘em and support ‘em just as much as you always have! Y’ show him that you’re always gonna be there for him, and that he can trust you with anything.”

“But I haven’t always been there for him,” he exclaims petulantly. “That’s the whole problem! That’s one of the reasons he ended up like this.”

“Greg,” he says, his voice softer this time. “Listen to me, ain’t nobody perfect, okay? We’ve all made our mistakes with people. Me? More than most. But what we can’t do is let those mistakes cloud what’s happening right now. Y’know, that’s one of the hard lessons I’ve had to learn over the past two years, that you can’t always make things about you. Because right now, it’s about him. He’s dealin’ with some hard feelings, and he needs all of our help. So, let’s help him. Together. We’ll start with one foot in front of us, and we can take it from there. All right?”

Closing his weary, exhausted eyes and pressing his thumb firm against his still-aching temple, Greg Universe gives a long sigh and finally concedes to the reality that— just as he’s not solely responsible for the decline of his son’s mental state— no man should be an island when it comes to the task of supporting one’s journey towards recovery. As with everything, the extended Universe family unit will face the future together, hand-in-hand. Step-by-step.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, I think that’s do-able.”

#su #su future #greg universe #andy demayo #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

35 notes · View notes

equalseleventhirds · 4 years

Text

quick disclaimer before fic: this is not meant to excuse or absolve melanie and georgie of outing jon; what they did was wrong and they should not have done it. instead it is an... examination of a character who is Maybe working some things out but, due to Internalized Issues, is harshly rejecting it both for herself and other people. (i’m aware i wrote something with the exact same FUCKING premise back when i was in the sh*rl*ck fandom dear god don’t read that linked fic it is from a deeply shameful time of fandom i only linked it as proof i did the same thing before. almost like i’m still working through the same stuff via writing fanfiction. hm.) (further discussion on THAT in post-fic notes; i wanted to keep it under the cut for personal reasons.)

furthermore: warning for discussion of sex (but not explicit depictions of sex), characters experiencing aphobia both internalized and not, mention of sexism wrt jobs, characters outing other characters without their consent (more than once, and more than just jon), and mention of consensual but unwanted sex (as in, consent was given, but the consenter did not enjoy it, and consented due to expectations).

- - -

It starts with: “I don’t, I, I usually can’t—Lately. I mean. Lately I can’t.” Melanie shuts her eyes so she won’t have to see Georgie, her hand on the sheets, judgment questions in her eyes. “Since I got—shot. It’s more difficult, is all.”

“Melanie—”

“You can still try,” she says, the words falling too fast, too panicked. “If you want, sometimes other people—and it’s fine! I’m always, it’s fine to try. Sometimes I do. I just might not. You know.”

“You might not orgasm,” Georgie finishes for her. It’s hard to tell how she’s feeling about it—until her fingers brush Melanie’s chin, turning her face up.

Reluctantly, Melanie opens her eyes, and then she’s glad she did. Because Georgie’s smiling, not a mocking smile, gentle. And they said this was just, just casual, just between friends (there’s too much going on with ghosts and the Institute and Georgie’s ex sleeping on her couch when he isn’t being kidnapped for it to be more than that), but Melanie’s glad Georgie is smiling.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Georgie says. She’s sitting up now, not lying almost-not-quite between Melanie’s legs anymore. She looks gorgeous, naked and cross-legged on that horrible mattress with a microfiber sheet wrapped around her shoulders, and Melanie wants to curl up in the sheet with her and eat the leftover pizza from earlier and fall asleep together with grease on their hands.

No. Focus. “It’s okay,” Georgie says again, gentler. “If you can’t right now. If you don’t want to. You certainly gave me a lovely orgasm—”

“—or three—”

“—yes, thank you, and if you’d rather just call it there, I’m not pushing it. As long as you enjoyed yourself.” She frowns, suddenly, glancing down at Melanie’s hands. “You… did enjoy yourself? I hope we didn’t—”

“I did!” She always does, when it’s other people coming, when she gets to be touching warm skin and watching someone fall apart. It’s… nice. “It’s just, you know. I got shot.”

(And isn’t that a convenient excuse, she sneers in her own head, and it sounds like Toni refusing to come back to the team, it sounds like the most sarcastic videos about her breakdown, it sounds like Elias. Isn’t it convenient that now you can blame your little problem on blood flow, or nerve endings, or stress. Never mind that you didn’t have those excuses a year ago. Or two years. Or back when you had a real girlfriend, and you always said yes but she got tired before—)

Georgie tucks a strand of hair behind Melanie’s ear. “Okay, good. If we, you know, try this again sometime? If you’re feeling better? Then I can try.” She stops, licks her lips, watches Melanie’s expression. “Or I can… not try, if you’d still prefer that. Later. You know. If.”

“I’m not—” And she’s rushing again, always rushing, she doesn’t even know if she and Georgie will ever—

“No, I know! It’s fine! But like—Look, this isn’t exactly new for me, you know? If that’s something you want. Something you don’t want. Or I, I’m saying it’s not a problem, if you do or don’t want me to make you come in the future, or even if you don’t want to have sex at all, I mean, when we were dating Jon didn’t—”

That’s where Georgie stops, as if talking about Jon is too much, as if she hasn’t been speaking Melanie’s secret insecurities out loud in bed like it’s something they can talk about, as if all of this hasn’t already been too much and too terrifying already.

Melanie stands up, grabs the comforter as a makeshift cloak (because Georgie has the sheet, and suddenly she isn’t sure she wants to share the sheet with her). “Right.”

“I’m just—I have a friend. Who you might talk to, if you wanted to talk about this.”

She steps away from the bed, towards the door. “Sure. Pizza? I’m hungry.”

The problem is, Melanie doesn’t much like Jon. He was such a dick about the Youtube thing, and about her statement, and about Sasha. And even though she knows (sort of) that part of it hadn’t been his fault, she still isn’t going to talk over her disinterest in sex with him. It’s mortifying. Even if he wasn’t her boss. And Georgie’s ex. And currently out of the Archives, anyway.

But she wants to talk to somebody, about Georgie’s words running around and around and around her head, about the sheer panic mixing with almost-relief and then the visceral no no no churning low in her stomach that had made it a struggle just to choke down her pizza. She wants to ask someone is this normal, am I allowed, is it even enough to be halfway to ‘not at all’ or should I just suck it up. She wants to talk that out desperately.

It’s just… she doesn’t have many friends left, after her whole fall from Youtube ghost hunter grace. She’s not going to ask Georgie about it, any more than Jon, although for pretty much the opposite reason. Who’s left? Her shiny new coworkers? Tim, who seethes and hates everything and everyone in the Archives? Martin, who’s still upset that Jon so much as spoke to her while he was on the run? Basira?

When Melanie met Sasha—the real Sasha, the one apparently no one but her even remembers—she’d been the only woman in the Archives. And Melanie had chatted with her about haunted pubs, and maximizing SEO, and how to talk to people who’d seen a white dog while they were drunk and thought it was a ghost. And about their jobs, of course, which led to both of them scoffing about the sexist bullshit of academia and how someone like Sasha could be just an assistant and the only woman on her team.

And then Elias hired Melanie to replace… the thing that replaced Sasha. Hired another woman to replace the only woman. You learn to see patterns from the kind of person who might say diversity the same way as toilet plunger: something necessary, but distasteful. Melanie was filling a role he needed filled, and she could live with that.

And then Basira.

Who wasn’t there because she wanted to be, of course, but was still there. Was still another woman in the boy’s club of terror they’d apparently signed on for. Could maybe, maybe, be someone Melanie could connect with. Someone she could talk to.

Maybe.

“Do you know if he and Jon ever…?”

“No clue, and not interested!” She’s laughing, about to just dismiss it out of hand, but… maybe. She can feel the questions she never asked Georgie, the words sharpening their claws on the edges of her mind. The no, not me, not allowed sinking in her gut.

“Although…” Make it light. Make it interesting. Make it about someone else. How to hook an audience without having a public breakdown and becoming a— “According to Georgie, Jon… doesn’t.”

It feels wrong as soon as she says it. Like she’s dirty. Like she’s lying. Like a thousand eyes are looking at her, watching her, waiting for more. Make it a story. Engage your audience. Like it’s 2013 in a convention hotel room and Pete just told everyone Don’t worry, Mel likes girls actually, and even though they were all fine about it that moment of sharpshock terror in her throat as they all looked—

“Like, at all?”

The one thing she never learned was how to stop talking. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, that does explain some stuff.”

And that’s… it, really. That does explain some stuff. Jon is a dick, has always been a dick, overfocused on work and not on other people, and that does explain some stuff. Right. Yes. Like her last girlfriend had told her, about all you do is work, I can’t even get you off. An explanation, just like she always knew it would be.

It doesn’t really matter. She has a boss to go kill.

“I think,” she says, slow, like every word is being dragged out of her, “that I might not like. Sex. As much as, you know, people do.”

“You’re a person,” her therapist says, firm, and she has to bite back a sarcastic laugh.

“Right. ‘Course.”

- - -

post-fic notes: i myself personally have previously identified as: heteroromantic gray-ace, heteroromantic ace, aroace, aro gray-ace, aro bi, bi, arospec bi, aro bi again, and aro bi but sex ambivalent. part of that has been natural progression and change; part of that was bcos some people i considered friends got very into aphobic discourse, and i internalized a lot of what they said. in recent months i have been examining my sex ambivalence (sometimes repulsion) and considering what that means about whether or not i am on the ace spectrum. i’m still thinking about these things. i’m still, deep down inside, afraid of the aphobic people i respected and cared about hearing about this.

in part i wrote this to work through some of My Own Shit regarding this. in part i wrote this bcos i will get my grubby little aspec hands (bcos regardless of anything else, i am aspec, whether that’s ace or aro) on every character i can. yes, even the ones who did an objectively shitty thing to jon, the one canonical ace character. bcos sometimes people (like me) internalize things and make mistakes.

#absolutely not beta'd or britpicked or even edited much #i needed to get this out and now it's late but i'm WORKING THROUGH SOME STUFF #uhhhh ambiguous ending about melanie's like! decisions! identity! feelings!#ambiguous if she or georgie EVER talk to JON #nothing is resolved! nothing is fucking good and light and happy! it's all MESSY #it's also so long i'm so sorry but melanie spent a lot of time looking at georgie and then a lot in emotional turmoil so like #what can ya do.#anyway. fuck it. posting a thing.#fanfiction #algie writes things #the magnus archives #hopefully i have rambled long enough this doesn't get maintagged sry if it does ignore me i needed this for ME #and i guess like. i do want other ppl to read it. but i do not want to maintag it. u kno how it is.#NOW WITH EDITING

80 notes · View notes

siswritesyanderes · 3 years

Note

Do you mind me asking if you have any fic recommendations? I'm mostly interested in HP & Fantastic Beasts, but I'm also curious about your recs for other fandoms as well!

(I'm assuming you mean not just yandere, so here we go.)

Oh boy. Besides the recs I've made on other posts (so, go to my previous posts tagged "fanfic rec" for more), I really like If Them's the Rules, by MayMarlow. That's another "Harry adopts Tom" one (reminding me that I really need to update mine). It has a lot of focus on the wider social/political issues of the wizarding world as a whole; mostly magical Britain, but some Grindelwald stuff, too. Tom has an actual Hogwarts social life in this one, and one that I find very engaging and funny, because it's still very him. Harry is also great. The whole thing is really very entertaining, and I highly recommend it. Read the tags, though; it has some dark themes. Lot of chapters; it's not finished, but it's a fairly long read. Some yandere elements peppered in there, if that's a factor you consider.

Stay Alive Until This Horror Show Has Passed, by Snow Glows Blue, is a crossover with Hamilton, using the characters from Hamilton in the universe of Harry Potter- specifically, Hogwarts during Deathly Hallows. It's really haunting and well done, in my opinion. This is a short one.

I've read a few of Sarah1281's Harry Potter works, and I've found them very entertaining, very funny. Some of the jokes maybe haven't aged great, but the sense of humor is really sharp. Pokes a good amount of fun at the universe and the characters. I'm pretty sure the most popular of their Harry Potter works is Oh God, Not Again, in which adult Harry is transported into the mind of his younger self and basically fixes the whole series. This author also has great works in other fandoms, so I recommend some exploration, there. I really enjoy the humor/dialogue.

Another crossover with non-HP characters in the HP universe is You're A Gryffindor, Hook, by evanescentdream93; that's a Descendants one, also done very well. Not sure how many Descendants fans I have here, though. I have a lot of Descendants recs.

One last crossover, this time with non-HP characters joining HP characters in their universe during Order of the Phoenix: Brace Yourself, Hogwarts- the Demigods Are Here, by moonshroom420. Heroes of Olympus crew (and Thalia) go to Hogwarts to protect Harry and bully Umbridge. I read this one several years ago, and I don't know that it still entirely aligns with my current sense of humor, but it's still a fun read, and I have a lot of nostalgia for it. Let it be known, this was Younger Me's jam.

For Twilight, I don't know if I've already recommended Luminosity, by LuminousAlicorn, but I enjoyed that. (There's the first one, the sequel, and a lot of one-shot spinoffs, and they're all great.) It's basically Twilight if Bella had a drastically different personality. A few small moments I found somewhat racially dicey, but other than that, it's, on the whole, a very intelligent and satisfying read.

AO3 user thefudge has some of my favorite Vampire Diaries fics, and a lot of good stuff in other fandoms (a wide variety of fandoms); again, I invite you to explore.

AO3 user scioscribe has some great works for the show Community, and for Hamilton; again, wide variety of fandoms, great writing style, highly rec.

#fanfic rec #harry potter #twilight #tvd #vampire diaries #community #hamilton

15 notes · View notes

t100ficrecsblog · 4 years

Text

an interview with @burninghoneyatdusk (she/her) What are you working on right now? Right now I’m prioritizing prompts for the Bellarke Writers for BLM Initiative, which is a mix of new prompts and requests for WIP updates. I just posted a chapter update of my fic Voices in the Water, which is a canon-verse/everyone is a grounder arranged marriage AU with a bit of a twist, and next I’m working on a new prompt. After that, I’ve got three chapters of All Because of You requested. All Because of You is a modern AU with bellarke as *platonic* coparents. The story is told in alternating flashbacks and present day (every other chapter). The flashbacks focus on them growing closer during Clarke’s unplanned pregnancy and the present is seven years later, where they have to come to terms with their feelings for each other when Clarke gets engaged to someone else.

What’s something you’d like to write one day? I would love to publish a novel one day. For years I had a YA dystopian/time travel trilogy kind of planned but I poked too many holes in it and want to start from scratch in that regard. Another novel I want to write is one that covers three generations of women, looking at mother-daughter relationships, women in society, generational trauma… a lot of stuff. It was inspired by learning about my grandmother’s life more and thinking about how it impacted her relationship with my mother, and in turn my mother’s relationship with me.

For fanfiction, beyond my current prompts and WIPs, I have two other fics outlined. One is an AU inspired by the movie Plus One. The other is a soulmate AU that’s a bit dark and involves immortality, magic, and essentially Bellamy as a villain with a redemption arc.

What is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I think All Because of You will probably remain my most popular, but right now I’m most proud of Voices in the Water. More so than my other fics, it has a more concise plot and I’ve done a deeper dive into Clarke’s character as an Azgeda assassin and I think the reader really gets into her head more than my other multiple POV fics. It’s also my first canonverse fic and I’ve enjoyed diving into that world and expanding upon it where I want.

When did you first start writing fic? I didn’t start writing fic until the beginning of 2019. I first published in February 2019, which was Homesick (It’s a Bittersweet Feeling). It was my first fic and the only multichapter WIP that’s complete right now, so it’s a special story for me.

What frustrates you most about fic writing? I’ve mostly had only a positive experience with fanfic writing. With the exception of a couple stray comments, my readers have been gracious, kind, and most importantly, patient. But I guess it can be challenging when you self-impose pressure because you’re aware that people are waiting for you to publish so sometimes I rush things. I haven’t personally experienced this, but I think that fic writing can also be frustrating when readers feel like you owe them something or unnecessarily offer negative comments that aren’t at all constructive. Some people forget that people are publishing stories for free, in their spare time, often in addition to full-time jobs or school and parenting.

What are your top five songs right now? 1. castles (freya ridings) 2. maniac (conan gray) 3. fired up (grace carter) 4. I am not afraid (g flip) 5. wanna be (betty who)

What are your inspirations? (books, songs, other fic) I take inspiration from all of those things but I would say mostly quotes and random photos on tumblr. I wrote Homesick because I liked the step-siblings/forbidden trope and wanted to write in a small town setting like the one I grew up in. All Because of You was honestly the classic “this is my bedtime daydream story I think about every night” so it’s pretty self-indulgent with the tropes I wanted to use. Voices in the Water was started because I loved the grounder!Bellamy / arranged marriage trope. The wanheda twist came from me reading the 4x11 script to screen with Clarke trying to force herself to shoot Bellamy to save humanity, but realizing that she can’t.

What first attracted you to Bellarke? What attracts you now? I’m not sure I remember a specific moment but I think I remember bellarke being all over my tumblr dash when I started s2 so kind of paying close attention to them during s2. s2 was of course a great season for them and by the ‘knocking on heaven’s door’ scene in 2x16 I was a goner.

Regarding what drew me to them, I think I’ve always loved a good slow burn with the partners/”I’ve got your back” vibe that they have. My first (and biggest) OTP before them was tony & ziva from NCIS which is a really similar vibe although a very different show.

Besides Bellarke, what character or pairing do you like best on t100? I think that Memori is probably my second place ship. Before s7, I would say there was a HUGE gap between my love of Bellarke and Memori, but this season has made me an even bigger Memori fan. I have to say that while I don’t think there was ever a chance of Murven happening, I do understand why people ship it. I think they have great chemistry/a great dynamic and in another life, so to speak, I would have shipped them.

Regarding characters on their own, I just love all my delinquents, but I think that Murphy is solidly my third favorite character. Raven and Octavia are probably tied behind him.

Why did you decide to start bellarkefic-for-blm? I credit the reason to Kara ( @queenemori ). (Sidenote: everyone go follow her! She’s an amazing fanfic writer and overall just a really positive, awesome person to have in the fandom). I remember reading her post - and I won’t try to paraphrase, so please take the time to read her it - but in general it got me thinking about how we as a fandom could support the BLM movement in a substantial way that is more than just spreading posts on social media, and in a way that doesn’t lose momentum as time goes on and the movement becomes less “trendy.” I thought about how many people collectively read our fanfiction and how we provide it for free, and if people could just pay a few dollars or however much they can afford and donate that to the cause, we collectively could make a huge difference. So that’s what I’m hoping this is - making a substantial difference in a way that doesn’t fade in time and also uses the power of fandom in a useful way. We have a lot of power if we collectively put it towards something like this instead of fighting over ships or actors or whatnot. I also figured that maybe we’d have readers who weren’t paying attention to the movement and that maybe because they want to submit a prompt, they’d do some research on where to donate, and that in turn helps educate them on the issue - or is at least a start.

Has it been as successful as you’d hoped? So on the positive side, I do think it’s incredible that in about six weeks we’ve raised nearly $1250 and have been able to donate to a variety of organizations. I’m incredibly grateful for the authors donating their time and the enthusiastic readers participating. I don’t mean to sound negative at all, but if I’m being honest, I do feel a little frustration at the lack of participation across the fandom as a whole or maybe more specifically across the AO3 readers. I know that my WIP chapters average about 1k hits per update. That’s a lot of people. Even if you cut that in half because maybe people are rereading, that’s still 500 people. So why are only about 20 of my readers donating to this initiative? I think it’s a bit discouraging when you look at the percentage in that way.

That’s not to say that I don’t understand that some aren’t financially in a position to donate, but I’ve made it clear that there are other ways to contribute (e.g. signing petitions, writing to politicians) and there hasn’t been traction with that either. So I think that in general, something is always better than nothing and it has in no way discouraged me from continuing this. But I’m hoping that more people are able to participate as time goes on. It’s truly a win-win situation of generating more fanfics for readers and donating to an important issue, so I hope to see the percentage of fanfiction readers submitting prompts increase and am doing what I can to continue spreading the word about it.

I guess in summary what I’m saying is, I’m proud of what the fandom has done so far, but let’s step it up. We can do more, we can do better. Maybe people will get pissed I said that, but idk. If you read fic and can buy a $3 coffee, you can donate to this cause. It’s important. As was Kara’s point, let’s not see this momentum fade when the BLM movement becomes less ~trendy~.

What are some things you’d like to recommend? Instead of writing an essay about all the fics I love, I’d like to link both my bookmarked fics which is my complete list of bellarke fic recs.

I also want to recommend visiting the Bellarke Writers for BLM Initiative writers’ page - these writers are incredible so please go check out their existing works and continue requesting prompts for the BLM movement!

On the note of BLM, I'd also like to link this article. It's older, written in the aftermath of the Charleston attack, but it remains one of the most thought provoking pieces I've read on race in our country.

it was my honor to interview burninghoneyatdusk! honestly, if you aren’t reading Voices in the Water, which is Bellarke except Clarke is an assassin, you should be. it haunts me. she also organized the very cool bellarkefic-for-blm.

#bellarke fic #bellarke #the 100 fanfiction #memori #clarke griffin #interview

32 notes · View notes

soundwavefucker69 · 3 years

Text

I’m just going to post this comment I left on books haunted here so you all know what happens and why there are no more updates. Sorry to everyone who genuinely enjoyed my time in bnha, but I’m done. Maybe I’ll come back, maybe I won’t, but I’m genuinely sorry to everyone who really enjoyed my bnha fics.

I'm going to preface this by saying I'm absolutely having a terrible fucking day, and I'm being toxic, and maybe you deserve this, and maybe you don't, but I don't really care, because my job has not paid me in a month, rent is due, I'm dealing with being part of the frontline workers dealing with this clusterfuck of a pandemic with literally two weeks of training, and you caught me on a really, really fucking bad fucking day.

First of all, these comments are exactly why every fucking fan of this goddamn, cursed, fucking horrifying fic that has made me more stressed than it has made me happy is exactly why none of you who never fucking paid attention in english class are never going to get to finish it. I'm wasting half a degree in creative writing I can't even finish because of money on this goddamn fic. Which I wrote for free, by the way. You didn't have to leave this comment. You literally didn't, and if you took the time to read through the comments, you would see that I get these comments all the goddamn time and maybe, maybe you would understand that you shouldn't have said it. Allow me to explain the concepts of foreshadowing and proper plot progression, since I am never going to finish this fucking fic because y'all could not be patient long enough to see the story play out the way I intended it to finish. Here is your obligatory spoiler warning, I fucking guess. Whatever.

The universal law in LOTR is that the ring served its own master, who was its creator, and it was created to fulfill his deepest desires. That's it. That's what it was for, that's what it was created to do, and it did everything to fulfill that one purpose in life. You can argue the semantics with me, what it was for, but that was my authorial translation of the text, and it's not entirely wrong. The ring only serves one master, and its master is who created it. It influenced the people around it to bring its masters closer to what Sauron truly wished. It was a tool to reach what Sauron truly wanted, and that is an immutable fact.

Izuku, prior to receiving the ring, was doomed to a life of obscurity, where he could never engage in the dreams that he had. He was meant to live a life quirkless, in some podunk job where he couldn't enact the kind of change he wanted to do, unable to help people to his fullest ability, feeling like he cheated his way into the position he was in, because he was a liar. He wanted to be true to himself, as true as he could, but he also wanted to protect the people he cared most for, and not fall prey to the idea that he could become a god. He wanted to be a good fucking person, but he couldn't settle the concept of being a good person without using his power to help people. This is important. He never lashed out at the abuse he received, though he dearly wanted to, never set healthy boundaries that helped him and his guardians, because he understood the importance of their secrecy, never allowed himself to show his true feelings, even though he dearly wanted to. He was miserable.

After Gremlin showed up, his personality changed. Just a bit. He was still a good person, but he started letting his feelings be known. He started lashing out over his frustrations, started objecting, even told Katsuki off. And then the sludge villain happened, and he made a choice he would have NEVER made prior to Gremlin entering his life. He revealed himself. And then, rather than reporting him to the government or encouraging Izuku to remain in secrecy, rather than let him enter the support department, Nedzu blackmailed his family into allowing him to enter the hero course. Katsuki, rather than lash out at Izuku for being a liar, accepted him and told him exactly what he needed to hear, which was that he could have his cake and eat it, that it was possible, that finding a happy medium was fucking possible. These are both out of character decisions and reactions. Nedzu is required to uphold the law, and Izuku is breaking the law. Snipe, a teacher and a pro hero who is directly under Nedzu's purview, is breaking the law. These are immutable facts as well, and Nedzu just threw his lot in with a kid he doesn't know, can't possibly trust, and helped him to continue to break the fucking law, and even set him up to continue to break the law for the rest of his fucking life while in a position of power over real, actual people.

These were deliberate choices made by me, and maybe I made it too obscure, but I was directly leading to a plot that revealed all of this, where these decisions would be called into question. I wasn't fucking finished.

The ring is not fucking nerfed. The ring is functioning exactly as it was intended: influencing the people around Izuku to put him in a position where he can fulfill his fucking dreams, just like it was intended to do for Sauron. The objects Izuku withdraws from books change to fit in the fucking universe he resides in. Izuku is ALARMINGLY fucking overpowered with Gremlin, and I laid out the context clues for you all to fucking see. But I'm probably not going to finish this story, because it can be really, really, really fucking shitty as fuck to lay out a story and spend hours agonizing over how to make a reveal believable, but pleasantly shocking enough to still make people gasp as everything makes sense, and not even fucking get to the big reveal and everyone keeps coming in with their big nerd dicks to wave around and slap in your face. I know exactly what I'm fucking doing, thank you kindly. I know my own interpretation of the source material, and I know the source material. I made deliberate choices to lead to here, and everyone told me I was wrong and awful and don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, that I'm not a big enough nerd, that I should be fixing all of these problems that literally do not fucking exist because I had not gotten to the point where everything was supposed to make sense and y'all couldn't even wait for me to get there. I rage quit this fandom over this fucking fic, because too many people kept complaining about how cool it was, but that it wasn't the right amount of nerdy for them, or that I wasn't including this thing or that thing, or that Gremlin was done wrong, or that I just was some kind of fake fucking fan when Izuku wasn't even fucking at UA yet. If you want a fic with a reveal in the first fucking chapter and not thoughtful character development and plot progression, I can recommend some great finished fucking works and one shots that might satisfy that itch.

Sorry I took everything out on you, but I have had it up to here with this fucking fandom and these fucking comments. I'm not going to orphan it. I don't want it picked up by someone who is just going to rip it to shreds and destroy everything I did, because I did enjoy it while it lasted, and I really did find a lot of joy at first. But I'm not updating anymore. I'm over it. I don't care that I maybe need a thicker skin if I'm going to post online, or that I'm too fucking sensitive, or whatever. I really don't care. I'm done. Have your spoilers, have your comment that I'm sure you didn't think through before you posted it, but yeah. That was where this was going, and I'm sorry I didn't make the fucking foreshadowing clearer, or that I wasn't enough of a fucking nerd to write this, or that I bastardized tolkien and fucking ruined the ring of power. Sorry. I'm done now.

#books haunted #bnha fanfiction #im really sorry guys #im just fucking tired #i can't deal with it anymore #im sorry #i just feel defeated at this point #long post #bnha

4 notes · View notes

travllingbunny · 4 years

Text

The 100: 7x03 False Gods

Although I liked this episode less than the first two episodes of season 7, which were great, especially 7x02. I quite enjoyed False Gods for what it was. This seems to be an unpopular opinion in the fandom, which mostly hated it for what it wasn’t. And I get it - Bellamy has been missing for almost 3 episodes (even though it’s not even been 2 days since he left Sanctum), Clarke took a back seat here, and the new SciFi Anomaly storyline is far more interesting than the power struggles in Sanctum. Plus the A plot of this episode was problem-of-the-week, another potential nuclear meltdown - of a reactor we didn’t even know about before.

it feels like a setup/breather before we get to the real story. Yes, it's high time the storylines finally converge and Clarke and the others learn that Bellamy and others are missing, and get involved in the Anomaly plot. I guess I’m more patient than most, and it helped that I already knew this would only happen in the next episode.The biggest problem of this episode is probably that it didn’t address what was happening in the other storyline, for the benefit of all the viewers who are watching this weekly, don’t necessarily think about the show’s timeline and aren’t aware of the fact that it’s been a little over one day since Bellamy, Octavia, Echo and Gabriel went to research the Anomaly Stone, that there’s absolutely nothing surprising about the fact they haven’t come back yet (people were absent for similar periods of time in season 6 even when they went to a less distant location), that there is no reason whatsoever for Clarke and others to think that there are any other threats on the moon or any other humans outside Sanctum, and that there are no radio signals or mobile phones they could use to call them before they get back. And that, if she doesn’t have reasons to think Bellamy is in danger, it’s not OOC at all for Clarke to not be whining about the fact that he left with his girlfriend, his sister and Gabriel to do research instead of stay and help her as a co-leader in Sanctum, while she is also grieving her mom... Actually, you know what, I do have a problem with people criticizing Clarke for that. But I do see why a mention would help the viewers get a sense of coherence, that both this and the previous episode belong to the same story.

But at the same time, this episode delivered some of the things many fans have been saying they wanted to see: it was focused on the characters who have been there from season 1, Raven and Murphy (and Emori, who has been there since season 2 and has had the most long-lasting relationship in the show), it gave Raven an arc and character development and put her in the situation to make “impossible choices” and understand how Clarke has felt so many times (something that many were asking for after her season 6 characterization), it, put an end to Madi being a Commander, and let Clarke grieve for the loss of her mother for another episode.

Raven's storyline was still really engaging and the scenes in the reactor intense. And damn it, I liked Hatch, even though he was in just two episodes and a few scenes. He stole the show and made me really sad when I realized he was definitely doomed. I knew from the trailer that Nikki would beat the crap out of Raven, but I didn't know why. A lot of people thought Nikki would just be a straight-up villain like McCreary, but instead, she's given a good reason to feel the way she does. And it was high time the show addressed the fact that the Eligius prisoners are looked down on as second class people or barely people. Sure, they are murderers and thieves and not nice people, but that doesn’t make it OK to see them as barely human, as Eligius Corporation did when they were going to leave them to die as expendable.

This is probably leading to the friendship between Raven and Clarke getting stronger again. Other things this episode seemed to be setting up:

future conflicts in Sanctum: SheidhedaRussell (SheidRussell? RussellHeda?) getting more control, while Clarke and others have no idea about who he really is, while the Eligius prisoners are going to be led by a very angry Nikki;

Clarke has a continuation of her story from 7x01 and gets a kind of closure to her grief over her mother. She gets to say that she cannot lose anyone else, a very obvious setup for learning about Bellamy’s (and others’) disappearance. At first, this made me roll my eyes a little bit - it’s not like this is a new motivation for Clarke. She is always trying to save her people, and anyone who isn’t aware how important Bellamy is to her, has not been paying attention. But then it struck me - the show was doing extra work to set up Clarke being ready to leave Madi in Sanctum without looking like a ‘bad mother’ - and for that purpose, she now 1) knows Madi is not a Heda anymore and can breathe a sign of relief that Madi can be a normal kid now, 2) has no idea about Sheidheda, and 3) has started to trust Gaia enough as someone who could take care of Madi.

This time it’s Luisa's voice saying "Previously". It looks like they're having a different cast member say it at the start of each episode (Eliza in 7x01, Marie in 7x02).

James wasn’t losing any time, did he. It’s been just a little over a day since they came from the ship, and he’s already hooking up with a girl from Sanctum. And the show really did the horror trope of a couple that goes to a secluded place to hook up and dies.

There is a nuclear reactor in Sanctum? We go to another planet moon, and again the same problems, just as Indra said.

The opening titles ended with a new shot of the mansion and the grave next to it - this is presumably what Abby’s grave will look in the future. At the moment, it’s a heap of rocks with flowers over them. (Maybe it's meant to be Kane's, too - they don't have either of their bodies, though Abby did die on Sanctum and they could at least bury her clothes.) Contrary to what many fans thought, Clarke burying Jake’s ring was not Abby’s “funeral” - the funeral had already been held, so the answer to the often asked question “why weren’t Madi, Raven, Jackson, Murphy etc. there", is - they were, when the funeral was held. Clarke just went later, alone, to bury the ring, the remembrance of both her parents. With the grave being so close to the mansion, Gaia saw Clarke coming to bury the ring and then came to talk and bury the Flame.

It’s good that Clarke has another confidante/budding friendship, someone to talk to in her increasingly small circle. But I’m not sure that Clarke and Gaia managed to connect that much over grief - because losing a parent and losing your religion are very different kinds of loss. Clarke doesn’t even have a religion and doesn’t have that kind of experience.

I love the way the show acknowledged that everyone knows Clarke will always be the first one to risk her life to save everyone - and Murphy knows it. But the plot mechanics ket Clarke away from this storyline (because Murphy and Emori had have it) - Indra said Calrke had her hands full with Russell’s execution, even though it wasn’t clear why she’d have to be the one to organize it (especially since Indra herself seems to be capable of dealing with the politics) and Clarke didn’t look too busy the rest of the episode.

I’m glad we’re done with the plot of Madi being Heda or having to pretend to be Heda. Although I’m sure this will haunt her still, because she has memories of other Commanders - including Becca and Sheidheda, and she may find it the easiest to recognize SH, because she knows him better than anyone.

I completely understand why Clarke wasn’t going to let Madi order Wonkru members to perform such a dangerous task - she doesn’t want to let Madi feel responsible for sending people to their deaths, feel the same guilt she did, but at an even younger age.

Gaia telling the truth both was and wasn’t the right thing to do - morally right, but with potentially terrible consequences, if no welders had been found. Here’s a song for her by one of my favorite bands. On the other hand, Raven lied to people in the name of necessity and the greater good of them all, and achieved her goal but ended up sending people to their deaths, and felt the consequences of lying.

One revelation I really liked is that the guy from Sangedakru thinks of the infamous Dark Commander as “Sangedakru’s greatest champion”. That feels a lot more realistic than the idea that all Grounders hate him and think of him as a monster - even though their culture is based on war and killing, and we’ve seen other Grounder leaders (Queen Nia) be just as ruthless. Sheidheda being from another clan helps makes sense of Indra’s story from 6x13 of the time SH “took Trikru” and was going from village to village and killing everyone who refused to kneel. I’ve been wondering for a long time what exactly Heda were commanding before Lexa united the clans. I suppose they were trying to command, but clans were still divided and preferred Hedas from their own. And it seems that Sheidheda was also trying to ‘unite’ the clans, but not by negotiations! Of course he is considered a monster by people from all the other clans, whom he was killing and torturing and trying to conquer, but is still remembered as a hero by his own clan. Of course. That’s how it usually goes.

Small moments of Sheidheda enjoying the fact he’s corporeal again - from touching his own arms to eating a cookie - are a nice touch.

I like the fact that Sheidheda is smart and much sneakier than the pompous Russell was. He had to be smart to be able to manipulate the AI in the way no other Commander could, not even Becca, its creator, ti isolate the other Commanders, get control of Madi, and later download himself to Russell’s mind drive. SH was also using the captivity to read some of the books he’s found and apparently gain some technical knowledge about Sanctum,

Delilah’s parents are finally back. I don’t think we had seen them since they killed Priya. And Trey (the annoying “adjustor” who was brainwashing Jordan) can go f(ck himself. Really? Blaming Delilah’s parents for avenging her death?

I’m still unsure where exactly the show is going with Jordan. His brainwashing will have to be addressed at some point. It may not have been fully successful - he doesn’t think of the Primes as gods - but it was sure enough for him to stop despising them as murderers and to start believing their BS (and even to form some sort of attachment to Priya). If he weren’t brainwashed, he’d be spending time with Delilah’s grieving parents, rather than the people who worship her murderers. Right now, the show is playing it ambiguously, so some people may even forget about brainwashing and just see Jordan as a gullible naive guy (which he is, of course, he grew up just interacting with his parents) or as Jordan sees himself, as a moral compass/substitute for his father. Someone should tell him that Monty was never naive and knew when it was necessary to fight and kill, even though he hated it and tried to avoid it. Maybe realizing that he’s been manipulated by the Devout and by SH will be a wake-up call.

Jackson has had more character focus in S7 than he had for seasons - the mild doctor now wants revenge for his mentor-mother figure. Good to see more focus on his and Miller’s relationship, including their arguments. What Jackson said about Miller seems to have hurt Miller, who’s still feeling guilty for his role in the Blodreina regime. Maybe this Mackson disagreement contributes to Miller deciding to leave, to prove something to himself, and save Bellamy this time, since he didn’t do it in season 5.

Memori continue to be adorable. and we learn that Raven having no respect for her friends’ privacy is a recurring thing. Another snippet about the life on the Ring.

There was one line that didn’t make sense to me. Raven to Murphy: “Go do your job, be Emori’s moral anchor”. What?! Isn’t it usually the exact opposite?

Speaking of couples - Hatch called Nikki “Honey bunny”. That has to be a Pulp Fiction reference. Raven got the job done here, but I feel like Hatch’s death will have dire consequences for the possibility of peace in Sanctum. Both because he was the more optimistic and tolerant one, willing to expect good and to try to work to earn respect, and because Nikki is now going to be even angrier and more extreme. And just like we had different views about Sheidheda among the Grounders, here we see different views among prisoners about McCreary - Hatch calls him a jackass he won’t miss, but Nikki thinks he would have fought for the rights and better treatment of the prisoners. (I wonder what any of them have been told about Diyoza.)

“Welcome to the world of grey”

A few more words about Raven’s storyline -

One thing that bothers me about this storyline is the idea that this is the first time Raven is in the "world of grey". I guess the writing staff Murphy doesn't remember that time when she tried to give him to the Grounders to be tortured and killed in Finn's place for a crime Finn committed. She also tried to get Clarke to kill Lexa and start a war over Finn in that same episode, basically to sacrifice a bunch of people for him. There was also that time when she tortured Lincoln with electric shocks to save Finn. Or that time when she was withholding medicine from the dying people, including a dying child, because of rationing. Or the time when she was ready to turn the plug on 283 prisoners in cryo sleep. Or when she gave Echo an OK to kill Shaw, her ally, in season 5.

But all this got forgotten because she's never before had to deal with the consequences of her actions. Lincoln didn't die, the others stopped her from turning over Murphy and Finn gave himself up, Clarke opted to mercy kill Finn and do what's best for everyone instead, Murphy stole the meds and gave them to Abby so the child was given the medicine but died anyway, they didn't have to - and then couldn't - kill the prisoners in their sleep, Echo did not kill Shaw...

There were also plenty of times when Raven gave others the responsibility - like when she decided Clarke needed to make the list of 100 people who'll get to survive Praimfaya in the Arkadia as shelter (while passively aggressively bashing her at the same time, which was weird: "I'm in charge of rationing, but deciding who lives or dies is your specialty"), and then Clarke got blamed for it.U

Now, the writers (going by Jason's recent interview where he said that Raven had never done anything morally wrong in the first 6 seasons) seem to have forgotten about it - which I guess is why they wrote her as a self-righteous moralizer in season 6 - unintentionally making her really hypocritical. Which I hated, because she used to be one of my favorite characters, but became quite hard to like in season 6.

The way I see it, it’s best to ignore ridiculous BTS statements of the writers when those statements don’t match canon. I’m all for “Death of the Author” in that case, at least. If we just ignore it, Raven’t entire arc starts making more sense. Maybe they had some weird idea that they were writing her as the moral compass of the show in season 6 (but people who have acted as a moral compass usually don’t say things like “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life!” and refuse to acknowledge their own mistakes), but I’ve always interpreted Raven’s behavior in S6 as lashing out - she was hurting and lashing out, because she had been betrayed by her substitute mom Abby in the same way and for the same reasons as her real mom; she also felt betrayed by Clarke; and then she lost Shaw, the one person who would have put her first, so she felt she had no one left who would. (Though she did get better later in the season, making up with Abby, acting less judgmental and making up with Clarke. )

This is either the show course-correcting her earlier characterization, or fixing a long-standing flaw - Raven’s tendency to be harsh and judgmental to others, which had already been there before season 6. This was seen in this episode, too, from some of her disparaging comments to Murphy, to her contempt for the Eligius prisoners (not that this isn’t understandable, with the fact that she had been tortured by McCreary’s men).

So this feels like an important step in Raven starting to face the world of grey she often tried to see as black and white, and for once be in a situation where she has, almost directly, caused people’s deaths, by decisions she made on her own.

(The show also seems to be course-correcting a few other things about Raven: she looks more like her old self, she has gotten back some of her snark, and the show is showing her disability more - after having largely ignored it for the last couple of seasons.)

To be fair to Raven, she did not know from the start that she was sending Hatch and others to their deaths. She had assumed at first that the task would be dangerous, but not lethal. When she realized it was, the men were already irradiated, and it was necessary to fix the reactor so it would not kill everyone. The bigger problem was that Raven had lied - because she did not respect these people enough to give them an opportunity to maybe volunteer while knowing what the danger was. I think that Hatch, at least, still would have. He did prove smarter than she thought but realizing what was going on, while she was still lying to them that they weren’t going to die in minutes, and, contrary to what she had assumed - he did still want to fix the reactor, in spite of knowing he’d die, to save someone he loved. Raven also showed a similar disrespect towards Murphy - locking him inside to get the job done. It feels like this is something that has never been fully resolved between them - the fact that Murphy was a POS in season 1 and crippled Raven, but also, that she was fully prepared to give him to the Grounders to be tortured and killed in Finn’s place. I feel like this is going to make her start thinking differently and maybe give people the benefit of a doubt.

I knew Nikki was going to beat the crap out of Raven from the trailer, but I didn’t know what her reasons would be. It felt like Raven herself almost wanted this as punishment, because she felt guilty, and would rather take a beating than comfort (”Don’t touch me!”) And I’m sure Raven can understand how Nikki feels, since she has lost Shaw so recently, and Finn before.

I liked Hatch’s conversation with Murphy and the parallels Murphy could see there - Hatch and Nikki were another Bonnie and Clyde-style thief or rather robber duo.... except it went too far and they became murderers. Which Memori were not... but Murphy was a murderer even in season 1. In season 6, Murphy died and thought he had gone to hell for his sins, so it must have resonated with him when Hatch replied that, no, he wasn’t looking for redemption, because “There is no making up for it”.

Body count: James (RIP to yet another Arker from Wonkru, though we first met him in 6x02), his Sanctum girlfriend, and 4 Eligius prisoners including Hatch (which means that 32 remain).

Rating: 7/10

#the 100 #the 100 7x03 #false gods #the 100 season 7 #raven reyes #john murphy #emori #clarke griffin #gaia kom trikru #sheidheda #jordan green #indra kom trikru

18 notes · View notes

roman-writing · 3 years

Text

no great revelation (7/8)

Fandom(s): The Haunting of Bly Manor / Star Wars

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 6,244

Summary: Jamie just wants to enjoy a drink after a hard day’s work on the Telosian Restoration Project. The last thing she needs is to get herself caught up in a mysterious woman with a lightsabre at the local bar.

Aurthor’s notes: Please note the rating change

read it below or read it here on AO3

VII.

—

Jamie swiped up on the tablet to throw the video to the feed at the centre of the table.

"Rebecca, this is everyone," Jamie said. "Everyone, this is Rebecca."

"I thought that maybe you'd been making up your Jedi friends this whole time. Nice to see I was wrong about that." Rebecca gave a little wave. "Hi, Dani. How's the ghost?"

Dani sank down a little in her seat, and her answering smile was more of a grimace. "Hi. Sorry," she mumbled.

"Yeah, about that," said Jamie. “Back on Quint’s ship, you said you knew what was happening at House Thul.”

“Oh? Finally ready to listen to me, are you?”

“Don’t push me,” Jamie growled, jabbing the tip of her finger at Rebecca’s face on the screen. “Remember. Galaxy’s Biggest Favour.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. She had taken the call with her back to a wall, so it was impossible to glean her surroundings. "The Empire wants a foothold on Alderaan. It's a strategic location in the Core Worlds. They have been working over Lord Wingrave after the death of his brother and sister-in-law, helping him fabricate claims to the House, claims to his niece and nephew, claims to a position in the Republic Senate. You know the drill. Traditional blackmail."

"What else?" Jamie pressed.

For a moment Rebecca glanced over the top of the camera as if looking at something else out of frame, but then her attention returned back to the screen. "The children are Force Sensitives. The Sith have been helping Lord Wingrave keep that under wraps, so that The Order wouldn't take them away to the Temple for training. My sources tell me that the plan was for a Sith Lord to create sleeper agents out of the children through the use of some ancient Sith device containing a ghost."

"Which Sith?" Hannah asked.

"I'm not in the business of keeping tabs on Sith Lords. By the way," Rebecca pointed through the screen at Hannah. "How have you found shaving your head? Because I've been thinking of cutting my hair back, but I’m not sure about going all the way."

Running a hand along her shaved scalp, Hannah said, "There's nothing quite so freeing."

"Good to know. Thanks.”

"Oi," Jamie snapped her fingers. "Focus. The Sith Lord."

"What else is there to say?" Rebecca replied dryly. "They're a Sith Lord. They're scary. They're dangerous. They're not to be fucked with. Your Jedi friends probably know the drill better than me."

"I hope not," Owen said under his breath as he took a sip of tea.

Hannah sat up a little straighter, hands clasped neatly on the table before her. "Do we know where they are? Where they're going, perhaps? Any information you give us may be vital."

Leaning her back against the wall behind her, Rebecca pursed her lips in thought before answering with a shake of her head. "I know they want the children, and I know they want the holocron. So - Alderaan."

"But the holocron isn't on Alderaan," Dani pointed out.

"They don't know that," said Rebecca. "Peter lied to buy himself time, and told them it was still in the estate of House Thul."

"But -" Dani frowned. "House Thul has its own militia of guardsmen. I know Sith are powerful but the Empire would need to send troops if they wanted to break in and hold ground."

"Then I guess the Sith Lord will be invading with troops as well."

Sighing deeply, Jamie lowered her face to her hands, letting her fingers scrub through her hair. Then she looked up again, hands hooked behind her neck. "Right. Guess we're off to Alderaan, then."

Rebecca laughed. When nobody else joined in, she stopped. "Wait. You're serious? Did you not just hear me say 'Most likely a Sith Lord is going to invade House Thul?' As in — with a shock legion. As in over a thousand soldiers led by a malevolent Force User, who can and would probably kill a room with a snap of their fingers?”

Lowering her hands, Jamie said, "Yeah, you - uh - you mentioned that. Good thing you'll be right there with us."

"You have got to be joking."

Jamie said nothing. Just gave Rebecca a long look.

"Jamie," said Rebecca, her expression horrified, "You can't be serious. When I said 'favour' I didn't mean 'suicide.'"

"We can’t let them have those kids. Trying to mobilise Republic troops or The Order without enough evidence is a fuckin’ waste of time. We need to get into the estate of House Thul," Jamie gestured around to everyone at the table. "You're a smuggler. So, smuggle us in."

Rebecca pinched the bridge of her nose. "Alderaan is Republic territory. Why do you need me to smuggle you onto the planet, when you can just fly and land there yourself?"

"Because of her." Jamie gestured towards Dani, who looked both startled at being mentioned and guilty. "I don't want Pasha and his Troopers linking Dani to this in any way. They can't know she returned to House Thul. She has to come out of this squeaky clean."

Groaning, Rebecca said, "Fine. When do you want to go?"

"As soon as possible," said Owen.

"I'm -" Rebecca looked over the top of the camera again, craning her neck slightly. "Thirty two hours from Alderaan through hyperspace. Meet me in orbit around the planet. How's the ship I gave you?"

"Rude," Jamie said blandly. "It keeps insulting me."

A smile tugged at the corner of Rebecca's mouth and she began tapping at the buttons below her screen. "That sounds like Jane."

Jamie's face screwed up. "Jane? It has a name?"

"It's a JN class droid uploaded into the ship’s mainframe. It likes being called Jane. Didn't you ask it?"

"No?"

"Well, no wonder it's rude to you. By the way, I’ve just dropped you those pictures of my godson that you asked for last time. They should be appearing on your device now.” Rebecca waved with a little flutter of her fingers. “See you in thirty two hours.”

The video feed winked out.

"I rather like that young woman," Hannah said.

“Get in line,” Jamie grumbled.

The video had been replaced by a file icon. Jamie clicked it and brought up the first photo of Rebecca carrying a blue-skinned Twi’lek child on her back, both wearing big beaming smiles.

“Oh, they’re adorable,” Owen sighed.

Fuming, Jamie flicked to the next photo, which was equally adorable. “Fuck. Okay. Yeah. They are.”

—

After cleaning up in the dining room and kitchen, Hannah gently nudged Jamie's arm and indicated she should follow her. Jamie glanced over at Dani, but she was engaged in a lively conversation with Owen while they dried dishes together. Dani's smile had lost its tentative edge the longer Owen spoke to her, but there was still a tenseness to the way she held her shoulders, the same tenseness that had been present back in Ho'kyn's bar on Telos IV, as though she were afraid someone would batter down the door at any moment.

Jamie followed Hannah, who led her up a set of stairs to a mezzanine floor where the walls were floor to ceiling scrolls and books and objects of cultural curiosity.

"Find anything new?" Jamie asked. She leaned back against the railing of the mezzanine which overlooked the lounge below.

Hannah plucked a tome from its shelf, dusted it off, and opened it to a page that had already been marked with a length of ribbon. "Yes and no. Nothing helpful, anyway."

She came to stand beside Jamie so that she might also look at the book. Jamie peered at it from the corner of her eye, not recognising the script around the drawing of a grey-skinned woman in dark red robes with a deep cowl.

"That a Sith?" Jamie asked.

Hannah hummed a curious note. "A Witch of Dathomir. Dark-aligned, for the most part, but not Imperial. They're the only practitioners of possession I've been able to find record of at all. I believe The Lady might have been an early precursor. Or perhaps they developed similar techniques independently."

Jamie stood straighter, hands tightening around the railing. "Wait, so - you can reverse it?"

Hannah snapped the book shut. "No. Though a visit to Dathomir might be in order, should we survive. However, if you chose to go, I won't be accompanying you. They dislike Jedi as much as they dislike Sith."

"Good thing I'm not a Jedi."

"I doubt they'll see the difference," Hannah said, and she tucked the book beneath one arm. "Failing that, the only other people who might know anything about this ghost are the Sith themselves."

Jamie scoffed, smiling. "Right. I'll just sail into their capital on Dromund Kaas and ask for help, then. Great advice."

A flick of the Force against Jamie's ear made her wince.

"Don't be cheeky," said Hannah.

Rubbing at her ear, Jamie opened her mouth to retort but stopped. Beneath them Dani and Owen walked into the lounge, still talking. Dani moved her hands when she spoke, and Owen watched her with a fond if guarded smile.

"I am afraid for her," Hannah murmured so that they would not be overheard.

Jamie nodded. "Yeah."

"For someone like our lovely Miss Clayton, the Dark Side is not a lure so much as it is a glue trap," Hannah mused aloud. "It has a gravity of its own, the darkness. And once there, it becomes more and more difficult to claw your way free. Even if you want to. Even if you know you should, but can’t bring yourself to try. Fear is her failing. And fear is the relinquishment of logic."

Jamie glanced at Hannah. "Can you teach her when this is all over? You're the best of the best in The Order when it comes to balance in the Force."

Without looking at Jamie, Hannah lightly smacked her arm, just a dismissive tap with the back of one hand. "Don't try your flattery on me. I've known you too long for that nonsense."

"That nonsense," said Jamie, "has gotten me out of more sticky situations than you know."

"But it won't get Miss Clayton out of this one."

Muttering a curse under her breath, Jamie sank down a bit, gripping the railing as she did so until she stood bent over and leaning against it. "Don't you start, too. I had Owen in my ear last night about it."

"Good man," Hannah murmured appreciatively.

"Bloody hypocrites. The both of you."

"You can't solve everything with your curmudgeonly charm," said Hannah.

"I fuckin' can."

"Sometimes," Hannah turned, leaning her back against the railing, arms crossed over the book gripped loosely to her chest, "a helping hand can only do so much. A person needs to want to help themself."

Jamie scowled. "So, what? If we can't help her we just ship her off to the Empire? 'Here, have a new Sith apprentice?' You haven't even given her a chance, and you two are already lecturing me on how I need to let go." She shook her head with a bitter chuckle. "Unbelievable."

And of course Hannah remained infuriatingly unflappable, her voice calm when she replied, "I will do everything I can, as I know Owen will, too. But — even should we survive this ordeal — our time with her will be limited. She will not be safe on Tython, where some overzealous Knight will surely sense her presence and jump to conclusions."

Jamie's mouth went dry. She swallowed. "Then where am I supposed to take her for training?"

Hannah smiled and placed a warm hand on Jamie's forearm. "Wherever you want, dear. So long as you're there."

Face screwing up in confusion, Jamie straightened. "But you just - You were just telling me how I needed to keep my distance and all that shite."

"Was I?" Hannah murmured, and she let go of Jamie's arm to instead toy at a gold earring. "I don't recall saying that at all."

And with that she crossed back over to place the book on its shelf.

"What do you mean? Hannah?" said Jamie, turning around.

Humming to herself as if she hadn't heard, Hannah drifted off down the stairs.

"Hannah," Jamie repeated, louder this time.

"We really must pack, Owen," said Hannah, ignoring Jamie completely.

Hitting her fist against the railing, Jamie turned back around to glower down at Hannah, who appeared on the floor below. Hannah urged Owen down a hallway with instructions to pack for the trip, leaving Dani standing in the middle of the lounge, alone. Dani looked up, and Jamie's fist loosened.

The last time Jamie had seen her from this angle, Dani had been in the full thrall of The Lady back on the luxury cruiser, her red-gold gaze piercing through a camera in the ceiling. Now, Dani blinked up at her with none of that cold malice to be found. She opened her mouth to say something, but then Hannah's voice called down the hallway.

"Miss Clayton, what's the weather like at House Thul?"

Dani turned and began walking towards the sound, already answering Hannah's question, and leaving Jamie staring after her from the mezzanine floor, lost.

—

The gangway automatically lowered to the ground when Jamie got within a certain distance from the luxury cruiser still docked where they had left it.

"Good afternoon, Bollocks," said the cultured male baritone of the ship's computer. "You've brought guests."

Beside her, Owen mouthed the word 'bollocks?' at Hannah, who looked like she was trying very hard not to laugh.

Jamie rolled her eyes and shooed the two of them up the gangway, trailed by Dani. "I have, yeah. Anything interesting happen while we were away, Jane?"

There followed a pause that was slightly too long for a droid of this calibre, and then the ship's computer replied, "Nothing of note. I did not tell you to call me that."

"Oh? Don't like it? Should I call you bawbag instead?"

Another pause, this one affronted. "Jane," said the ship's computer, "is perfectly serviceable."

"Glad to hear it, mate," Jamie drawled and stepped into the ship proper.

As Dani stepped up behind her, the ship's computer said, "And a good day to you, too, Miss Clayton. You're looking very alive today."

"Uh -" said Dani, and she ducked her head sheepishly. "Thanks."

The gangway lifted and sealed behind them once everyone had entered the main atrium, where the ship’s computer had already sent out a small service droid on trundlers bearing glasses of some kind of pale carbonated alcohol.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Owen murmured, picking up a glass and taking a sip. He made an appreciative noise.

“Where would we like to go?” the ship’s computer asked.

Jamie waved the service droid away when it tried to press an insistent drink into her hand. “No, thanks. Jane, calculate a route to Alderaan. We need to meet someone in orbit around the planet in thirty two hours.”

“Route calculated,” the ship’s computer replied almost immediately. “The journey is only expected to take twenty one hours through hyperspace. I will chart a circuitous route so that we arrive on time. If it would please you, you may make your way to the dining lounge. I have prepared a light lunch before we depart.”

Frowning, Jamie looked up at the ceiling. “How the hell did you even know we were coming?”

“I have access to the station’s security cameras and systems.”

That gave everyone pause. Owen froze in the act of draining his glass, while Hannah and Dani shared looks.

“You hacked the station’s security system?” Jamie said.

“Negative, Bollocks,” said the ship’s computer. “I asked the mainframe for access very nicely.”

“Are you lying?” Jamie turned to Hannah and Dani. “Can droids lie?”

The ship’s computer did not answer. Which wasn’t concerning. Not at all. Owen suddenly looked a bit queasy, and he gingerly lowered his near empty glass back onto the tray held out by the service droid.

“You need not fear for the condition of food and drink aboard this vessel,” said the ship’s computer. “I am programmed to care for and protect any legitimate member of this crew as designated by the Captain and owner.”

Jamie pointed jokingly at Owen and said, “Better watch yourself, then.”

Placing a hand over his chest, Owen pretended to look insulted, then followed Jamie further into the ship towards the dining lounge.

“May I ask,” started the ship’s computer, “what are we going to be doing on Alderaan?’

Jamie dragged her hand along one of the polished white walls as she walked. “Getting in over our heads.”

“Please clarify.”

“We’re going to have a fight. Why?” Jamie asked dryly. “Do you also happen to have ion cannons strapped to your shiny exterior?”

“Negative. But I do come equipped with some accessories the crew might find useful in the event of a boarding attempt.”

One of the panels beneath Jamie’s hand pressed inwards, and a whole section of the wall peeled back to reveal racks upon racks of blaster pistols, blaster rifles, grenades, vibroweapons with wickedly curved blades some small enough to strap to the leg, others long enough to be wielded with two hands. Everything that would make a Republic Trooper get all hot and bothered.

All four of them stopped in their tracks and stared.

“Definitely an ex-Czerka ship,” Hannah muttered under her breath.

Hand on the hilt of the lightsabre at her hip, Dani said, “I think I’ll stick with this. I’d be more likely to shoot my own foot.”

“Likewise,” said Owen.

Meanwhile Jamie reached out and hefted a blaster pistol. She turned it over in her hands for closer inspection, careful not to graze anyone with the barrel, but all defining marks or serial numbers had been either scrubbed off or hadn’t made it far enough in manufacturing to be stamped in the first place. With a shrug, she took one of the holsters and belted it around her waist.

Owen gave her a look. “Really?”

“What?” Jamie holstered the blaster pistol and waved at the other three. “You all have lightsabres, and we’re going up against who only knows what. Am I supposed to just hide behind a pillar while you lot do all the fun stuff?”

Before they could answer, the ship’s computer chimed and said from its hidden speakers in the ceiling. “Not to interrupt,” said Jane, “but the tea is getting cold.”

Immediately Owen’s eyes brightened. “Oh, tea?”

It was in fact high tea. Three tiered platters. Fine bone china. Petit fours. The whole lot. They amused themselves in the various lounges and quarters of the ship for hours before departure, at which point the ship’s computer insisted upon harnesses being secured. The jump to hyperspace left Jamie feeling on edge, as though she had left her stomach behind on Tython. And she couldn’t have been the only one. Their talk had been too forced, their laughter too loud, Owen and Jamie swapping stories to the delight of Dani and Hannah, who would chime in every now and then. And when Jane rolled out a more formal dinner, it felt like some kind of last meal before execution at dawn by firing squad.

Jamie couldn’t find it in herself to enjoy the meal. Every bite tasted like ash. The ship’s computer on the other hand seemed thrilled that its crew was finally taking part in its carefully scheduled meals and activities. More than once Jamie thought she heard a low-pitched contented hum from the belly of the ship. Or perhaps that was simply the engine room.

Eventually, Jamie made her excuses and left the others to their own devices. Jamie walked into the same bedroom she had taken during the initial trip on this vessel. First one on the left from the main lounge. There were at least four other rooms of generally equal size and accommodation on the ship; Jamie had simply picked this one because it was closest to the helm, easy to access and nothing more.

Jamie sighed and stopped in the middle of the room. She unslung the holster and pistol, dropping it to the ground, then began to unbutton the crisp white shirt she had stolen from the medbay. Back on Tython, Hannah had offered her a spare set of robes, which she’d declined. Jamie hadn’t worn robes since she was a padawan, and after years of boilersuits and undershirts, she wasn’t about to start again any time soon, thanks. Even if it meant dumb slacks and collared shirts made of some anti-wrinkle fabric that cost more than her apartment back on Telos IV.

She just needed to make it one more day. Just one more day. The last few weeks had shaved off a good few years from her life. Probably. And by this time tomorrow this whole ordeal would be over, alive or dead. Probably.

There was a knock at the door. With a frown, Jamie turned, hands paused in the act of unbuttoning the shirt halfway down her stomach. “Yeah?”

The door hissed open and shut again behind Dani as she stepped into the room. “Hi.”

Jamie blinked. “Hey.”

For a long moment Dani did and said nothing. Her mismatched gaze flicked down to the narrow v of skin and the dogtags revealed by the open shirt, only to dart quickly away again, studying the bedside table with a fixed intensity it did not deserve.

“Sorry,” said Dani. “I just - It's been a few days since we’d really spoken, and I wanted to check in.”

Jamie nodded. “Ah - yeah. I’m good. Are you -?”

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

Another lengthy pause.

Dani gestured to the door behind her. “Hannah and Owen are very nice.”

“They are, yeah. Good people. Trust ‘em with my life, and I don’t say that lightly.” Jamie tried to smile, to make light, but Dani had turned that wide-eyed fixed intensity upon her now. It was difficult not to squirm in place when Dani looked at her like that.

Dani took an abortive step forward, only to stop herself before she could venture too close. “Are we okay? It’s just - on Tython you seemed to want your own space, and I thought -” She paused to clear her throat, glancing briefly down at her feet. “Did I mess this up or -? I mean - I know I’m not the best option for anyone, and you deserve someone nice, someone who’s not completely messed up or possessed by an ancient Sith ghost or something. But I -” she paused to close her eyes and draw in a deep breath. “I really like you. And if you don’t want anything to do with me after this is all over, I would completely understand, but I -”

Jamie tried. She really did. But the next thing she knew, she had taken a step forward and pulled Dani in for a kiss. Dani made a small noise of surprise in the back of her throat that Jamie chased after, feeling her respond in kind, feeling the Force welling up beneath Dani’s skin like a hand reaching out in offering.

“Do you think -” Jamie said, pulling away just enough to speak, “- that I did all this because I don’t like you?”

Dani gave a breathless little laugh, her hands cupping Jamie’s jaw then sliding to cradle the back of her head. “I thought you did it because you’re good and noble and you’re drawn to a lost cause.”

“Can be lots of things, can’t I?”

They were close enough that Jamie could feel the pull of Dani’s smile against her own lips, their noses brushing.

“I know you like your life to be boring. So, I was thinking," said Dani, "how nice Corsin must be at this time of year. Just a getaway planet in the middle of nowhere. No Sith. No Jedi. That could be boring, couldn't it?"

Jamie swayed forward, eyes half lidded, and murmured, "Could be awfully boring."

Hannah and Owen be damned. The little voice in the back of her head telling her this was a bad idea be damned. Dani was kissing her again and every thought flew right out of her head until there was nothing but this. Nothing but today, this moment, the call of blood in her veins, life as it was and nothing else.

There was not push towards the bed, no drive to action beyond this. Still Jamie paused, one hand remaining anchored at Dani’s waist.

“You can still go alone,” Jamie said, “if you want. Doesn’t have to be with me.”

Even as she said it, Jamie dreaded the answer. Knowing Dani’s predilection towards shrinking away from things that were too difficult to face alone. Knowing her own history of always being the odd one out, passed from place to place, from Corps to Corps, unfettered, unwanted.

Dani’s hand tightened in her hair, holding her close. “Want it to be with you.”

Want this, Jamie thought as Dani kissed her again. Want this, too.

Removing Dani’s cloak and tossing it onto the floor beside the blaster pistol had never felt so easy. Kissing her, unhooking the lightsabre and setting it onto the table had never felt so easy. Unzipping Dani’s vest while Dani finished unbuttoning what Jamie had started had never felt so easy. Being with someone else had never felt so easy.

Jamie’s shirt was discarded onto the ground beside the bed just as Jamie sank to her knees there. Dani’s hair was mussed, her mouth parted, her eyes fixed and unblinking as Jamie began to slowly drag down the zipper of her trousers. She toyed with the chain of Jamie’s dogtags, winding it around her fingers at the back of Jamie’s neck.

When Jamie began to tug down the material, Dani sat on the edge of the mattress so her pants could be peeled off and placed aside. Jamie leaned forward and stroked her tongue along the soft skin of Dani’s inner thigh, feeling a hand grip her hair when she bit down gently, and making a low dark sound in the back of her throat.

Already Dani was moving her hips in small motions and Jamie hadn’t even started yet. Jamie laughed softly.

“What?” Dani breathed.

Jamie shook her head, but the movement was restricted somewhat by the tight grip Dani had on her hair. “Nothing,” she murmured and bowed forward to place her open mouth against slick wet and wanting heat.

Wanting nothing but this. The spread of Dani’s legs on either side of Jamie’s head. The taste of her when Jamie swiped her tongue in long slow strokes. The sound of her name gasped in Dani’s voice. The ache between her own legs as Dani rocked her hips to the rhythm Jamie set with a barely restrained urgency.

Where last time had been fast and hard, Jamie did the opposite now. She traced Dani with the tip of her tongue as if trying to map her to memory, finding the best reactions and storing them away for later, for a time again with her that may never come. One of Dani’s heels came up to press into the small of Jamie’s back, and Jamie could feel the way the muscle of Dani’s inner thigh trembled against the side of her face. The same way her fingers trembled as they combed back Jamie’s hair.

Want this, Jamie thought as Dani’s groan ended on a broken noise, as Dani’s hips arched up to press more firmly against her mouth while Jamie offered only a gentle suction. Want her. Want us.

Dani hauled Jamie up by the chain around her neck to kiss her deeply. The kiss was slick and messy and tasted of her, and when they parted Dani was panting.

“Did I mention,” Dani said breathlessly, “that I really like you?”

Jamie laughed and allowed herself to be pulled up onto the bed. Smiling broadly, Dani kissed her and rolled her over to start unbuttoning Jamie’s dark-washed slacks. Before she could do more than flick open the first of two buttons, Jamie placed her hands and Dani’s hips and encouraged her to rock against her thigh.

“That’s -” Dani swallowed back a reckless sound, her eyes squeezing shut. “I’m going to ruin your nice slacks.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

Dani’s answering laugh was breathless. “Do you mean that literally, or -?”

The question died on her tongue when Jamie pressed her knee up and wedged a hand between them just enough that she could brush her thumb just so. She watched as Dani’s face screwed up, as her mouth dropped open and her hips bucked out of time until she came again — smaller this time, but no less gratifying.

Dani slowed to a halt, trying to catch her breath. “All right,” she said. “It’s definitely your turn.”

When they’d finished, Jamie sank bonelessly back onto the mattress. Their clothes were strewn all about the room, and the ship’s computer had set the lights to dim automatically to match a normalised sleep cycle, so that the ceiling was a map of constellations. Dani was stark naked and wiping her hands clean on a shirt with a self-satisfied expression before she crawled back up the bed and snuggled into Jamie’s side.

Jamie rolled onto her side and draped an arm across Dani’s waist to hold her loosely there. She needed to take a shower, but couldn’t find the energy within herself to get up. Not when recent sex had turned her bones to jelly, and not when Dani started to trace the curving lines of Jamie’s monochromatic tattoo.

Exhaling slowly, Jamie sank further into the mattress. Her eyes slipped shut and she allowed herself this moment of brief respite.

“Do you ever think,” Dani asked softly, “this was supposed to happen?”

Blearily, Jamie opened her eyes, lulled half asleep by the way Dani was touching her. “What d’you mean?”

Dani shook her head, admiring the way her fingertips drifted across the pattern of ink on Jamie’s bare shoulder. “I don’t know. I just - When I chose the ship to Telos IV, it wasn’t the fastest or the cheapest or even the one leaving the soonest. I was still in shock, I think. From what had happened on Vurdon Ka. There was another transport leaving three hours earlier, heading towards the Outer Rim, but when the droid asked me what ticket I wanted I bought the one to Telos instead.” Her words slowed to a mumble, and her caress stopped. Dani stared at the flowers on Jamie’s skin as if in wonder. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“Coincidence?” Jamie offered, watching the flicker of Dani’s brow in response.

Dani seemed to be trying to remember something intently. “Maybe, but it was so strange. I had this - this feeling. And when I landed on Telos, you know, I -” She broke off with a small incredulous laugh. “I walked straight to that bar. Just - straight there. Didn’t even ask for directions.”

Jamie blinked, more awake now. That hum of energy had returned, threading between them like an arc. Dani’s presence was stalwart, nothing wavering or questioning about it.

“I don’t know anything about the Force,” Dani continued, “but I’m glad to have met you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Jamie’s mouth. It was brief but the warmth pooling in her chest was verdant and budding. “Yeah. Me too.”

—

Rebecca’s ship dropped out of hyperspace only three kilometers from the luxury cruiser, so that the two vessels drifted in orbit around Alderaan side by side. The planet below was a vast curved horizon of blues and greens, struck through with white cloud. Sitting in the pilot’s seat, Jamie noticed how Dani’s gaze kept drifting towards the broad windows of the left wing, staring out at the planet below with her shoulders tense and her hands clasped behind her back.

The moment Rebecca’s ship came into view, Owen leaned over Jamie’s shoulder and hit the comm button, requesting a transmission, which was immediately picked up.

“Hello again,” Owen greeted jovially down the line. “We see you’ve just arrived in orbit. And might I say - your ship is exactly what I expected from a smuggler.”

“Aww, thanks,” said Rebecca, her video feed flickering into view. “I worked hard to get it just right.”

Rebecca’s ship was a single bladed shape of stark grey material, like a shark’s fin parting the surface of water. Jamie knew from experience that its small size could mislead larger ships into underestimating its speed and firepower. She also knew from experience that the sleeping cots were cramped and uncomfortable, and that more often than not Rebecca slept in a hammock strung up in the cockpit itself.

Jamie elbowed Owen in the gut so she could have more room. “Status report?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “What are you? Fleet Commander Taylor?”

“Just tell me how we’re getting down to the surface without being noticed,” Jamie said.

“Funny you should ask that,” Rebecca replied, trailing off.

Owen made a face. “Oh, no. Is it bad?”

“Well…”

“Get it over with,” groaned Jamie. She could hear Hannah and Dani walking closer to join the conversation. “Put me out of my misery.”

Rebecca hit a few buttons to switch over the feed, and the screen suddenly displayed a scene much nearer to the surface. She must have hacked into a few security cameras, because the view turned slowly alongside her tapping away in the background. A towering estate in slate greys with parapets like speartips jutting into the sky dominated the screen, flanked by snowy mountains. A broad bridge led to the front entrance, and a hundred or so guardsmen had set up allacrete bollards behind which they were taking cover to avoid incoming fire, peeking over to return volleys before crouching down again.

“That’s,” Dani said slowly, pointing towards a crest-emblazoned purple and red banner hanging from the manor walls on the screen, “House Thul.”

Jamie squeezed her eyes shut and tipped her head back towards the ceiling. “Don’t tell me.”

“They’re being besieged by the Sith Lord,” said Rebecca.

“I said don’t tell me.”

Hannah peered over Jamie’s shoulder to get a look at the screen. “Can you get us to the surface?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Rebecca. “But after that, I’m all out of ideas. I told you: I’m not a Core World girl. I don’t know Alderaan from a bottle of spotchka.”

“I do.”

Jamie opened her eyes and lowered her head. Beside her Dani had lifted her hand slightly as though waiting to be called on in class. “There’s a side entrance used primarily by servants and staff.”

“What? A side entrance dug all the way through the mountains?” Owen pointed to the snowy peaks pressed in tight on either side of the estate.

“No, it’s here.” Dani tapped her finger against the screen just off to the side of where the camera was currently showing. “It’s where the guards sleep. You go through a security checkpoint and then down a tunnel which leads into a room off the great hall.”

“Don’t think the security checkpoint won’t be a problem this time,” said Jamie.

“Yeah,” said Rebecca slowly as a guardsman on screen was shot dead and slumped to the ground, only to be pulled back over the bollard by one of his comrades. “They look a little occupied right now.”

Chatter fizzed from another speaker on the dashboard. Frowning, Rebecca sat in the pilot’s seat and turned a dial until the frequency better matched. They could hear a staticky voice shouting frantic orders over the comm.

“That’s a Pub frequency,” Rebecca said.

“The Empire has revealed its hand,” Owen said. “The Republic will be arriving with reinforcements soon.”

“Yeah, but not soon enough,” Jamie muttered darkly.

Hannah hummed in agreement. “Unfortunately, yes. A fully fledged Sith Lord? They can tear this estate apart and be out with what they want before Republic troops make it into orbit.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully we can do the same.”

From the sidelines, Dani suddenly spoke, “Can we talk about the children for a sec?” When she had everyone’s attention, she took a deep breath and continued, “What’s going to happen to them now that we know they’re Force Sensitive?”

She looked towards Jamie, who raised both hands and shook her head, pointing towards Owen and Hannah. Hannah was looking at Owen, who shrugged and made a gesture, which Hannah reacted to with an emphatic tilt of her head, the two of them engaged in the kind of silent conversation only two people who had been together for so long knew.

“Are you going to share with the class?” Jamie drawled. “Or are you two lovebirds just going to keep having your weird psychic talk that nobody else can hear?”

Hannah gave Jamie an arch, brook-no-nonsense glare, while Owen stuck out his tongue at her.

“I think it best if we take them back to Tython,” said Hannah to Dani. “There they can be trained in the Force properly.”

Some of the tension held in Dani’s jaw slackened, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. Yeah. Thanks. I needed to hear that.”

“Anything else we need to discuss before we leap into the fray?” Rebecca asked from the pilot’s seat.

Silence.

“Right,” said Jamie, hand on the holster of her blaster pistol. “Let’s get this over with, then.”

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #star wars #damie #dani clayton/jamie #no great revelation #roman writes

16 notes · View notes

puddygeeks · 4 years

Text

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 20: Cʜᴀᴏs Iɴ Cᴀᴍᴘ

Masterlist

Episode: Day Trip

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Twenty

Although it was crowded and the atmosphere was still tense from the storm, I was pleased to return to a solid structure for the night. Octavia and I bundled up some supplies in a corner and after some persuasion, she agreed to stop obsessively guarding the grounder and to actually try to get some sleep. It was hard for either of us to relax, especially when I saw Bellamy head up the ladder for his turn watching our prisoner as Octavia dozed on my shoulder. I was starting to feel the strain of worrying about the Blake siblings; any time I was busy with one of them I could almost guarantee that the other was getting into trouble. I barely managed a few brief cat naps throughout the night despite my exhaustion. Instead, I was one of the first up and about in camp working on repairs in the morning.

In my time here I’d already become quite efficient at sewing and so I was quickly assigned to repairing the damaged tents. I had a brief cheeky visit from Jasper and Monty on their way back from their successful foraging adventure to offer me some nuts that they’d found. I declined the food, feeling too stressed to eat and I promised to join them for a proper meal later on. I settled into a quiet corner near the edge of camp to work and enjoyed the peace of the alone time. After spending time on the Ark living isolated in a cell, I realised that it was a challenge for me to adjust to the constant presence of so many people. I keep my mind from wandering over what trouble Bellamy and Octavia could have gotten into by now and instead reassured myself that both of them tend to make a big enough scene for me to notice. I spent a couple of relaxing hours sewing and watching the bustling activity of the camp as people woke and were assigned to various tasks. We’d managed to assemble a food line with people organising portions into neatly packed rations so that we could keep track of our supply levels.

I noticed several people heading over to the area where we’d been keeping prisoners and I watched their activity with interest. I assessed that they carried enough supplies to indicate that repairs needed to be done to the makeshift cells we’d created and I wondered where they would put the two attackers whilst they rebuilt. I continued sewing as I waited anxiously for someone to escort the two men past, but no such movement happened. After a while, more assistants arrived with shovels and two large sheets filled with a human shape were carried past me to the gate. I overheard the people who hauled them out discussing how glad they were that the storm had only killed the rapists of camp and I was relieved to hear that no one else had been hurt. I was conflicted on whether it was appropriate to feel no sadness at the death of two members of our camp, as I knew in my gut that I would have argued against killing them for their crimes. I decided to allow myself to feel relieved that the decision on what to do with them had been taken out of our hands and I tried not to feel guilty about it. Once I’d accumulated a pile of repairs, I made my way back into the fray and took them to add to the pile of fixed items that were waiting to be set back up in camp. As I organised the pile, Clarke approached me with a nervous manner and I struggled not to roll my eyes.

“Hey Indigo, I couldn’t find you earlier. I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet but we’ve got video contact up and running with the Ark. They’re sending all the families in for a chat so if you’ve got anyone to contact-”

“Nope, my only family is down here.” I cut her off abruptly, not wanting to engage in personal conversation. I was honestly still frustrated with her for getting swept up in the torture last night, but I was too exhausted to confront her for her part in it right now. “Anyway, I’ll go back to the orphan corner. The Ark’s quite good at creating us, I’m sure it’ll be crowded in no time.” I spat coldly as I stormed away from her.

I returned to my sewing and tried not to be bitter as I watched people being called to the tent one by one for time with their families. I struggled not to picture my mother and when I failed, I imagined what she would look like now. My mind filled with images of her, the warm tone of her short auburn hair, her fair skin always a fawn white coated in hundreds of tiny amber freckles. It was one of the most beautiful, fascinating things about her to me, the little sporadic pattern on her skin that sadly never passed to me. I remembered the blue lagoon of her eyes, glistening with a multitude of hypnotising shades and if you paid enough attention, a miniscule ring of hazel right around the pupil. I saw them every time I looked in the mirror and it was still haunting for me even years later. It was only worsened by the fact that my eyes never sparkled like hers had in her happier years, in the memories of her that I cherished most desperately. Instead, mine were dulled and depthless, the same way hers looked after years of pain and suffering endured at the hands of the guard who destroyed both of our lives. The eyes that I inherited from my mother were a constant reminder of the state that she had been in the last time I ever saw her and I suspected it was a large cause of the self loathing I felt whenever I dared to look into a mirror. I was relieved to be pulled from my thoughts by the sound of footsteps nearby and I glanced up to see Clarke and Bellamy making their way out of camp. I casually approached them, trying not to show my concern and Bellamy seemed relieved as he saw me.

“Hey, you heading out?” I asked with an interested look as I noticed the supplies they both carried.

“Yeah, the Ark mentioned some supplies nearby so we’re going to scout it out.” Clarke replied, whilst Bellamy watched me with a tense air about him that seemed to come from nowhere.

“Oh, well that’s promising. You sure you’re okay with just the two of you? I can back you up if needed?” I offered earnestly, but as Clarke opened her mouth to answer Bellamy abruptly cut her off.

“No I need you here.” He spoke firmly and I stared at him in confusion. He glanced over to Clarke reluctantly, then took my arm and walked me slightly further from her, lowering his voice. “Look, I appreciate you coming after me last night and I’ve been thinking about what you said. I will try to trust Octavia more, you have my word on that. But for now, I trust you. Can you keep an eye on her for me?” His expression was deeply serious, more so than the situation warranted and I felt like there was something more to his request that he wasn’t sharing with me.

“Of course I can.” I answered, considering him suspiciously. “Is there something else going on Bellamy?” I asked in a vain attempt to encourage him to be honest with me.

“No, I just…” He trailed off unconvincingly and I raised a brow at him. “I’m on edge with that grounder in camp. I’m trying to trust her not to do anything stupid, but if I’m honest, I’m expecting it. Just...tell me that you’ll keep her safe for me?” His eyes were strangely intense and he still gripped me tightly as he spoke.

“You know that I will.” I breathed with a confused tone, feeling nerves settling in my stomach as I assessed him. “So you just make sure that you come back safe, deal?” I replied, compelled to reassure myself that he would be coming back as I embraced the feeling that something was wrong. He didn’t answer me, turning to walk away without even a nod of acknowledgement. I grabbed his arm firmly to stop him from leaving. “Bellamy, I mean it. Be careful out there, please?” I added, my words quickly fading from assertive to pleading. He nodded reluctantly but it did nothing to relieve my fear. I watched him and Clarke make their way out of camp with a knot in my stomach and I had to force myself to return to the dropship instead of staying there to wait for their return.

As I entered the ship and searched around for Octavia, I wasn’t at all surprised to find her anxiously waiting on the second floor, under the hatch where the grounder was being held. I was walking toward her when Connor pushed past to bang on the hatch and yell up.

“Hey Miller, Roma’s parents are waiting for you on the radio.” He called before turning on his heel to walk straight out without waiting to see if he had been heard.

My stomach lurched at the mention of her name but I tried to concentrate on the task at hand. From Connor’s words, it sounded like they were about to leave the grounder unguarded and I could already feel Octavia desperately staring at me. I diverted my path to avoid looking suspicious and fiddled with some supplies in an attempt to look busy. Fortunately Octavia understood my strange move and she quickly did the same on the other side of the space as we tried to look casual whilst Miller made his way down the ladder and stomped outside. Octavia immediately dashed to the ladder and I ran over to meet her.

“Hey, Bellamy’s out of camp so I’ll try to keep the goons out of your hair. I’ll give you as long as I can but please don’t do anything reckless. I know you trust him and I’m on your side that this whole thing is wrong but you still need to be careful. Don’t let your guard down. Now go.” I rambled in a hurry, before practically pushing her up the ladder to speed her up. I knew in my gut that Bellamy would be furious with me if he knew what I’d just done, but our methods of protecting Octavia were different and I found that allowing her to make her own decisions and mistakes was working well for me so far. She was growing, which she needed to do in an environment like this and I maintained her trust. In my mind, it was most important that she always continued to trust me with her problems so that I could help when she got herself into trouble, instead of sneaking around behind my back like she did with Bellamy. I waited nervously on the spot whilst Octavia was upstairs and I expected to run into trouble at any moment. It wasn’t long at all until it came. Miller approached the ladder with a furious expression and I steeled myself for a conflict.

“Miller, how were Roma’s parents? I can’t imagine that as an easy conversation to have. If it helps I can speak to them? I was with her when…” I trailed off, unsure of what else to say. I wasn’t even sure if what I’d offered would be of any help at all, and felt guilty for even trying to use it as a distraction.

“No Indigo, that wouldn’t help at all. Now get out of my way, I need to get back to guarding the piece of shit whose friends are killing us.” He spat, pushing past me. I jumped back in front of him to try to block him and he looked up at the hatch in frustration. “Oh goddammit, Octavia is up there again isn’t she? Will you two ever give it a fucking rest with getting in the way?” He growled and I shifted awkwardly. I was disappointed that I hadn’t been able to think of a better distraction and instead had to resort to reasoning with him.

“Come on Miller, she’s not doing any harm and Bellamy isn’t even here. She’s just treating him like a human being.” I answered in an attempt to diffuse the situation and I already felt in my gut that I was wasting my time as he viewed me with disgust.

“What about our people, the ones they killed? You think they treated them like fucking human beings?” He spat as he continued to try to get to the ladder, but I remained in front of him to block it.

“We don’t even know if he had anything to do with that. We don’t know anything about Earth, we didn’t even expect there to be people here! We can’t hold one man responsible.” I argued, trying to reason with him despite his growing anger. I couldn’t tell which of us would lose our temper first as he looked down on me and I felt my stomach turning in frustration.

“Get out of my fucking way Sloan! Bellamy isn’t here to shield you today, don’t fucking test me!” He growled, attempting to pull me out from the ladder but instead I instinctively pushed him away from me and held my ground.

In an explosion of anger he swung at me; his fist collided with my jaw and caused me to stumble back. True to my assurance to Bellamy that I could protect myself, I rammed into Miller, tackling him at his waist and splayed him out on the floor. I pulled my arm back to punch him but before I could complete the movement I was interrupted by frantic yelling as Jasper stumbled into the space.

“Octavia! Indigo! Octavia!” His tone of blind panic caused me to let go of Miller and instead of continuing my assault, I jumped to my feet. As I did this, the hatch opened and Octavia frantically started climbing down.

“Jasper, what’s wrong?” I asked worriedly and as his gaze fell on me, he rushed over to my side. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see that Miller was back on his feet and that he was in the process of reaching up to violently pull Octavia from the ladder. I felt my temper combust inside my chest and I turned on my heel, throwing all of my weight behind the punch that met his face like a bulldozer. Miller collapsed onto the ground unconscious and I shook my hand with a grimace.

“Fuck, Indigo, that was extreme!” Octavia breathed as she viewed me with a hint of amusement and I shrugged back. “Jasper, are you alright?” She asked as she gently placed a comforting hand on him in concern.

“I...I think I’m going crazy.” He spat as he reached out with a desperate grip on her shoulders. “Or the grounders are here, or I’m going crazy!” His voice was frantic and terrified and I raised my brows in surprise. Octavia gently released herself from his grip and she began to lead him to the entrance to the dropship.

“Okay, just slow down.” She breathed, encouraging him to match her relaxed pace. “Just tell me what you saw.” As they reached the entrance and gained a view of the camp, Jasper seemed to hyperfixate on one point with wide, horrified eyes. I approached them, standing at his other side from Octavia and I watched him closely.

“Him!” He whispered, his voice trembling as he pointed to an empty spot. Although it was obvious to us that he was pointing at nothing, the conviction in which he stared out and pointed insistently caused me to become concerned.

“Jasper, there’s no one there.” Octavia replied firmly as she tried to take control of the situation.

“He’s right there!” Jasper yelled wildly back, finally losing control of his panic and I jumped at the sudden change in his demeanor. “We have to run, we have to run, why isn’t anyone doing anything-” He grabbed Octavia and tried to pull her but she dug her heels into the ground in resistance. I grabbed his arm to keep him with us and he stared at me in shock.

“Jasper! Are you on something?” Octavia asked and was unable to keep the annoyance from her tone any longer.

“Stay calm with him Tavi. He might be having a trauma flashback.” I spoke softly and slowly, as Jasper watched me with an expression that showed that he wasn’t really seeing me. He turned back to face Octavia with a slightly calmer manner, but instead I could sense a hint of slurring in his words.

“I love you.” He stated, causing us both to raise our brows in surprise. “And I just want you to know that we’re all gonna die soon, okay? I love you.” He rushed his words but also tried to cram food into his mouth at the same time. Octavia grabbed his hand midway to his mouth and revealed the nuts that he and Monty had offered me earlier.

“Is this all you’ve eaten today?” She questioned, fixing him with a serious expression as I watched with a feeling of dread as I recognised them.

“It is but who the hell cares now?” He breathed, waving his arms around in a dramatic fashion and I had to stifle a snigger at his out of character behaviour.

“You’re totally bombed.” She sighed, glancing over at me for assistance and I looked back at her with concern as I shook off my amusement.

“Him and Monty offered those to me this morning when they found them.” I clarified as I met her eyes and she looked back at me with relief. “How many other people in camp did they give them to?” I asked, glancing around with a knot in my gut and her eyes widened as she realised the implications.

“I don’t know but we need to find out, fast. For now we need to deal with him before he causes a panic.” Octavia whispered, indicating to Jasper who was now hyperventilating and causing quite a scene. She stepped outside by just a few steps and I had to grip his arm to keep him from following her. She picked up a fallen branch and returned just inside the ship to hand it to him purposefully. “Here buddy, take this.” She breathed and I sensed a hint of sarcasm in her voice despite her best efforts to conceal it.

“It’s a stick?” He questioned as he took it and stared at her in bewilderment.

“No, this is an anti grounder stick.” She argued in a forced tone and I struggled not to snort at her prosperous plan. “So as long as you hold this and you sit right here, grounders won't be able to see you. See?” She spoke softly and encouraged him to take a seat inside the dropship.

“Yeah, that makes sense. I’ll just stay right here.” Jasper nodded, settling into his seat and accepting her lie far easier than I’d anticipated. Octavia looked at me and rolled her eyes, and I had to stifle a giggle. I was sympathetic for Jasper; he’d been through so much since we got here that I thought he was doing incredibly well to still even be functioning.

“I’m gonna do the rounds of camp and just check no one else is freaking out.” I stated as I glanced out at the seemingly calm space anxiously and Octavia nodded in agreement.

“Good idea. You take one side, I’ll take the other and we’ll meet back here.” She answered and I smiled at her responsibility.

I stuck my head into multiple tents and everyone on my side seemed to still be their normal selves. From what I could tell, people were still efficiently working on their duties. After checking most of my side, I decided to find Monty and I hoped that he’d be in a better state than Jasper had gotten himself into. When I entered their tent, I found Monty laid flat out in a pile of sleeping bags and staring up at the ceiling of the tent with a fascinated expression.

“Hey Monty, are you good in here?” I asked gently as I stepped properly into the space and surveyed him. He turned to face me with a dosy smile and widely dilated eyes.

“Hey, it’s the pretty girl!” He answered cheerfully and I chuckled under my breath at his strange demeanour.

“So, I’ve just been chatting with Jasper and he was telling me about the nuts you found in the forest this morning.” I approached slowly and sat beside him. I was careful not to startle him after Jasper’s earlier panicky behaviour and worried that I could inadvertently spiral him into a similar state.

“Oh the nuts! Yeah, they’re super good, they’re so tasty, I think they might be the best thing I’ve eaten since I got here.” He raved, smiling widely at me. “You should make sure you get some.” He added and I knew that baiting him would be easier than I had anticipated.

“You know, I really want to try them, they sound amazing. But everyone liked them so much that no one will share with me.” I said coyly, and his face fell into a profoundly sad expression as he considered my words. I struggled not to snigger at his dramatic reactions.

“What?! That’s so greedy! I’ll share with you pretty girl.” He smiled, pulling a small supply of the nuts from his pocket and handing them to me without any resistance. “It’s not much, but those are all I have left.” He admitted and I was warmed by his kindness.

“Thanks Monty, you’re the best.” I replied, forcing a wide smile back at him in an attempt to not be suspicious. The effects of the nuts seemed to be different on Monty, maybe because he hadn’t endured quite as much trauma as Jasper, or maybe he was usually a chilled, happy drunk. I reflected on what he’d been arrested for, and decided I wouldn’t be surprised if the latter was the case.

“Oh you’re welcome Indie! I’ll always share with you. You’re nice, and cool, and pretty. So pretty. Did you know that? Bellamy doesn’t deserve you.” He rambled quickly in a slurred fashion.I struggled not to laugh now, wrinkling up my nose as I smiled at him.

“Well it’s a good thing that Bellamy doesn’t have me then, isn’t it.” I replied earnestly as I appreciated his kind words, even if they were caused by blatant intoxication. “You know what Monty, you’ve done so well today gathering these delicious treats that I think you’ve earned a break. Why don’t you take a nap?” I suggested encouragingly as I got to my feet.

“Yeah, a nap sounds great. I love naps.” He smiled as he shuffled himself into a comfortable position and quickly dozed off. I smiled at his peaceful form resting in a self hugging pose before I crept out of the tent. I made my way back to the dropship and found Octavia waiting for me.

“Hey, just so you know Miller’s back up and being a dick as usual.” She groaned in annoyance and I rolled my eyes. “He went straight back up there to guard Lincoln-I mean the grounder.” She added before dropping her gaze to her feet.

“Please tell me you haven’t named him? He’s not a puppy and no you can’t keep him.” I stated firmly, with only a small hint of playfulness. I hoped for a laugh but instead she stared back at me in an awkward manner.

“No, that’s his name. He told me.” She lowered her voice to a whisper to divulge this information and I froze to the spot in shock.

“You said he didn’t speak English?” I asked in a hiss as I felt unnerved by this revelation.

“I didn’t think he could, but turns out he can.” She replied casually and I got the impression that she didn’t understand the gravity of this discovery. I stared back at her in horror, as I remembered how much of the conversation between Bellamy and I had been in front of the prisoner. I desperately struggled to think whether I had said anything that could endanger Bellamy if it were to get out and felt my heart hammering as I considered it.

“Jesus, Octavia, did you tell him anything?” I grilled her with more aggression than intended and she seemed to be confused as she stared back at me.

“No, of course not, he didn’t want to know anything. I just told him I was sorry about what happened.” She explained and I could tell that she was insulted in the way that she spoke. “How was your side of camp anyway? Any more freak outs?” She asked in a crude attempt at changing the topic. I sighed but allowed her to guide me, as the nuts situation was a more pressing issue.

“No, everyone’s pretty normal, except for Monty who’s totally baked. But I took what he has left so at least he’ll start coming down.” I answered in a matter of fact manner. “Your side?” I questioned nervously.

“No weirdness at all, maybe Jasper and Monty just ate too many?” She thought aloud and I shrugged back at her. I was hopeful that she was right, as I couldn’t imagine the chaos we’d be met with if these had made their way around camp. “Raven and Finn haven’t come out of their little love den so they should be fine.” She added with a hint of bitterness and I fixed her with a scrutinising look.

“Did you check them?” I asked, eying her suspiciously. She avoided my gaze, shifting awkwardly and I sighed deeply in disappointment. I understood why she didn’t want to be around Raven, but I trusted her to be more mature considering the circumstances. “Fine, I’ll deal with Raven. Don’t do anything whilst I’m gone.” I added as I stepped away from her. She cleared her throat and I paused to turn to face her again. “Unless...you already did something?” I asked hesitantly. She looked incredibly guilty now and was barely even facing my direction any longer. “Octavia, what did you do?” I hissed in annoyance. I knew her too well for her act to fool me and I could tell from her face that there was something she was trying to hide.

“Nothing!” She exclaimed defensively. I raised a brow at her and she quickly crumbled. “Nothing undeserved.” She added with a coy smile and I felt my stomach lurch at her wording. “I may have had a part in ensuring that Miller got his rations.” She smiled and I groaned loudly as I understood that she had drugged him with the nuts. “Look, I’m just saying, if the guards were too high to keep an eye on him then it would be easy for him to just accidentally escape.” She explained her logic and I stared at her in disbelief.

“I just...what?” I stuttered weakly as I processed her words. “I know I agreed with you that he should never have been brought here, or tortured, and I have absolutely no intention of allowing anyone to execute him, but we can’t seriously be talking about letting him go?! That’s a huge risk Octavia, you don’t know him, what are you going to do if he comes back with an army?” I ranted as I felt the nerves brewing in my stomach. As I was in the middle of glaring at her, I realised that she was looking over my shoulder and I turned to see a commotion growing in the camp. It seemed that the effect of the nuts had simply taken a while to kick in as people were now starting to behave strangely all over the camp. “Shit, we’ve got bigger problems right now, I can’t talk to you about this just yet. I know you have drama with Raven and I get it, but Finn is injured and still very early in his recovery, so I need to make sure he’s not high as a kite and busting open his stitches because you dumped your responsibilities over a grudge. Stay here, and don’t do anything reckless whilst I deal with this, and we’ll talk about it when I get back.” I spoke quickly, allowing my tone to convey my stress before I rushed to Raven and Finn’s tent.

It was a struggle to even make it through the chaos of the camp. I was stopped several times by random people in varying states of confusion and panic. I struggled to part from each of them as I worried over reaching the person who I felt was most vulnerable. When the tent finally came into view, I could hear raised voices from inside. I quickened my pace to deal with the conflict and saw Monty stumbling out of the residence.

“Monty, what are you doing? I thought you were having a nap?” I asked frustratedly as I caught sight of him. I couldn’t believe that the one person I thought I’d dealt with was already back out and causing trouble. He turned to face me with an overly cheesy smile and I scrutinised him with an unimpressed manner.

“Oh hey Indie! Well I was trying to have a nap but the tides kept interrupting me so I need to find the moon so that I can change the tide.” He explained in a manner that was so articulate that it was almost believable. I stifled a laugh as I assessed that even whilst drunk Monty was trying to solve problems and studying things in his scientific mind. I smiled at him fondly as I formed a plan to get him out of the way without having to scold him.

“Oh, the moon?” I replied in a fascinated tone. “You know I just saw it heading into your tent, but if you go in there you’ll have to close your eyes so you don’t get blinded by it. So maybe lie down with your eyes closed whilst you talk to it.” I made up whatever I could think of on the spot and waited anxiously to see if Monty believed me. Although he was intoxicated, I doubted that he had become any less intelligent and I worried that he would see through me.

“You’re a genius!” He smiled eagerly and I let out a breath that I didn’t even realise I was holding. He gave me an exaggerated high five before running excitedly in the direction of his tent. Raven stepped out of her tent, pulling on her jacket and looked around.

“What the hell is going on?” She asked as she surveyed the chaos that surrounded us with confusion.

“Monty and Jasper found some nuts earlier that seem to be hallucinogens. Everyone's losing their shit.” I explained, watching closely for any strange behaviour from her. “Did either of you eat any?” I asked to confirm that she wasn’t going to fool me as the rest of camp had.

“No, thank god.” She breathed, widening her eyes as someone ran past bare chested and waving their shirt in the air like a flag. “I was with Finn so didn’t collect any rations.” She replied, rubbing her head in a stressed manner. “Does the pressure ever stop here?” She groaned as she met my eyes with an exhausted face. I was surprised to find that her tone was the same as it had been before she brutally tortured the grounder and then tried to fight me.

“No, welcome to Earth, the bullshit is constant.” I spoke coldly, no longer able to bond with her as I had over Finn’s unconscious state. I couldn’t pretend that last night hadn’t happened and I didn’t have the time to deal with the aftermath just yet. “Now, we’ve got around 90 dellusional teenagers to keep alive, so we’re gonna need every set of hands we can get.” I requested and Raven sighed deeply, sticking her head back into the tent.

“Scratch that, get out here.” She spoke into the tent before straightening back up.

“Thank you. If you could start gathering any stragglers at the edge of the camp and bring them back in that would be great. Octavia and I will gather the ones near the dropship.” I instructed and Raven immediately nodded in agreement.

As I approached the dropship I witnessed Octavia creeping back in with supplies bundled in her arms. I broke into a jog to catch her up and I could tell that she hadn’t spotted me nearing her. I cleared my throat just before I fell into step beside her and she jumped in response.

“What are you doing?” I spoke firmly and she turned to face me like a deer caught in headlights. I studied the items that she was carrying and easily identified some clothes and rations. I surveyed her with a mixture of disappointment and disbelief. I’d barely been gone for ten minutes and I couldn’t believe that she’d made such a dramatic decision in that time. “I said we’d talk about this. Are you really sneaking around to do this behind my back?” I asked with a hurt tone as I met her eyes. For a moment, she looked genuinely remorseful, but she quickly flipped to defensive behaviour.

“Oh right, of course.” She breathed, squinting at me with annoyance. “You say we’ll talk about it and you expect me to just sit and wait whilst our best chance of getting him out of here is passing us by?! We’re not going to have a better opportunity than this, ever!” She spat and I was surprised to find her pressuring me at such an impossible time.

“Yes, it’s our best chance to free him, but how do we know that freeing him is the right thing?” I asked and she rolled her eyes. I dropped to a scolding tone to try encourage her to realise the seriousness of the conversation and I felt more like I was parenting a bratty child than discussing something with my best friend. “It’s a risk Octavia, what will we do if he comes back with an army of grounders? Will you still feel so justified in your decision when they are killing us in front of you?” I pressed back, in an effort to make her understand the gravity of the decision we needed to make.

“That’s not going to happen! He saved my life!” She argued and I half expected her to stomp her feet as she spoke in an indignant tone.

“Don’t be fucking naive! You don’t know him!” I yelled back as I lost my temper with her ridiculous behaviour. “He may have saved you, but then he chained you to a wall like a fucking pet.” I jabbed and I saw the flicker of offence crossing her face.

“If I’m wrong and he has an army of grounders, they are going to come looking for him! If we let him go, maybe he’ll show us mercy in return.” She suggested and I scoffed at her. “You need to ask yourself this: when Bellamy comes back and we have to make a decision about what to do, how are you going to feel watching him get executed, knowing that you could have saved his life?” She reasoned and I paced around in an attempt to manage the stress that she was piling on me. I knew that we had little time to make a decision one way or another, but I couldn’t judge which option was the most sensible. After all of my time preaching about survival skills and being tactical, I didn't know the answer. “Indigo, sometimes you have to take a chance and have faith in people. I have faith in Lincoln, I can feel in my gut that this is the right thing to do. Now I’m just asking you to trust me.” I stared at her in uncertainty, and my recent words to Bellamy repeated in my mind, much to my frustration. If there was one thing I never wanted to be, it was a hypocrite.

“Fine, fine!” I spat as I snapped under the stress. “But this is on you, this is your choice. Don’t make me regret this!” I added as I jabbed a finger at her and she nodded back thankfully. “You get him out, I’ll keep the few sober people distracted.” I instructed as I tried to form a plan within the limited time constraints. “Come and find me when he’s gone.” I sighed, furious at her for putting me in this position.

27 notes · View notes

lunchador · 4 years

Text

Don't mind me but I'm rambling. I'm gonna yell about this here cuz it is my fandom blog and that's what it's for.

Man, The Boys is the perfect example of seeing a comic, seeing the potential, and gutting it for something better. I used to be a fan of Garth Ennis, I used to say he was the kind of writer that could balance edgy in a fun way that wasn't too much, but after revisiting his work I'm like....very unimpressed. And I feel as he keeps releasing series they keep getting worse 😬 I can't say this on FB because some of my male friends hold it in high regards(lots of them read it as angry edgy teens) but Preacher? Kinda a super shit comic. I genuinely think the show was attempting something better by polishing up the core concept (also the casting? Chefs kiss). I liked The Boys. I own The Boys. But the show is a fantastic example of how a comic adaptation does not need to be faithful. I think they made the characters a lot more engaging, they kept the graphic violence but I'm not rolling my eyes at it, and made the overall plot more of an arc versus the previous baddie hero of the week style that made it feel disjointed. And it's nice not to be able to expect what is going to happen next, not like how some shows throw it in a new direction solely to fuck with you versus genuinely interesting. They still sprinkle tons of comic stuff nicely in the show (my friend and I screamed at love sausage). I think the timing of the show is excellent in both that there is a corporate superhero burnout with so many movies and shows being churned out (often playing it too safe where money > interesting) and also reflecting irl events in an eerie but clever way. The whole comic and show is assholes, and I'm thrilled to love to hate them. I couldn't even do much of a reread because it's just not that good to me anymore. Absolutely crazy that Seth Rogan and Evan Goldberg read those two comics by Ennis and were like yeah, let's do this.

I feel the same way about Mark Millar though. I cannot stand his comics, I feel like he's pretty good with coming up with a concept but someone always executes it better on his behalf. Kingsman? Kick ass? Wanted? All superior to the comics. I think red son and jupiter's legacy are ones I did like, but I am very interested to see how netflix (?) Does jupiter's legacy in the wake of the boys. Not quite the same, but an edgy superhero series I highly expect people to make a comparison. It's about children of superheros that are struggling to live in their shadows. Drugs, sex, violence, drama.

On the other hand, I am screaming about the Invincible adaptation. IM SO FUCKING EXCITED. Invincible is in my top favorite comics, it got me INTO comics, and I always thought it was vastly superior to Kirkmans famous work Walking Dead. This I do hope sticks close to the comics (though maybe slightly better writing for women characters haha). I already know exactly what they're doing for the first arc and I really really hope we can get further than that because the series gets so fucking WILD. Insane all of the merch and now a show we are getting after the series ends. It's also super long for a western comic series at like 26 trades I think. I hope the show is a success for multiple reasons.

With the old guards success, I hope amazon finally does something with the rights they bought to Lazarus a few years ago. Greg Rucka is truly one of the best comic writers out there and that series is perfect for tv. Which reminds me I need to watch stumptown cuz I just bought the comic to reread and it's so good!!!!

And y the last man finally has its feet on the ground after being in development hell for like 10 years. Brian k vaughn writes the most human characters out there. And also paper girls is gonna be a series!!!! Fucking hell yeah!!! Hopefully it catches people attention as stranger things did. It's gonna be fun. And I hope saga never gets adapted. I truly think nothing will be able to capture it. Leave it as is.

And I'm still sad Chew ended up falling into development hell. Originally showtime wanted to use to to replace Dexter as that ended as their new bloody crime show, then it fell to an animated series which is better imo to pair with how weird it is and showcase the art style but I think the last I heard of it it was pretty much not happening. Especially since iZombie got surprising amount of traction and I guess they expected it to be too similar.

I'm also still bitter about Deadly Class's cancellation. I had a lot of potential. Great cast, good cinematography. It's such a fun tragic comic.

Locke&key was alright, it's such a good horror comic but I wouldn't be able to tell you what would have made the show better. Something didn't quite click for me.

I'm kinda really burnt out on marvel/dc. I don't think either is impressing me lately besides scattered things. I don't think I'm excited for any of the disney+ shows besides falcon+winter soldier and even then expectations are tentatively low. Maybe wandavision? I didn't give a shit about them in the movies but it's heavily based on a run of comics I did enjoy so I'm wary. I know only care about Hawkeye for Kate and she-hulk for the actress. Though I've been having a surprising amount of fun watching Doom Patrol and I enjoyed swamp thing. It's weird. It embraces that weird. There's something I feel like Umbrella Academy is missing it could learn from doom Patrol. Like ua still feels like it played it a bit safe. Idk. Haven't finished it because I'm not as motivated to.

And Faith?? Is gonna get a movie??? A plus size hero??? AHHHH. I have my first issue signed by the author I met at comic con a few years ago.

And watchmen of course.

And outcast, and happy, and powers! And I kill giants was turned into such a good movie!!! So many image comics!!

I just read nailbiter is gonna be a series so that's gonna be bloody and violent and full of serial killers lmao. The ending of that comic got a little ??? For me but I own the whole series so i guess that says something.

What a time to be a comics fan!!! We are so fucking spoiled lmao and there's still sooo many untapped series. I think Criminal would make a fantastic live action drama show. Who does like Intricate crimes and heists and overlapping stories And wic+div would make a stellar show especially if they really had fun with the music. And so many comics I like would make amazing animated series like pretty deadly, or chew, rocket girl. Haunt is another Kirkmans series that has potential to be a fun gritty superhero violent adaptation. Except the ectoplasma attacks haunt has looks like violent jizz sometimes. Idk. Like, URGHHHHHHH. Gimme gimme gimme more comic stuff.

And there's so many good things I'm not even aware it was a comic initially.

And there's so many things I hear good things I have yet to touch like black lightning, runaways ( I love the comics!!, Cloak and dagger (also great comics )

Old comic shit is good too. I've been rewatching the Spawn series. Adult animated superhero stuff is seriously underrated. The tank girl movie is FUN. ROCKETEEEEER!!!!! Disney was supposed to do a remake with a black girl. What happened to that?

I dislike all the cw shows though lmao too cheesy. Also why I can't get into agents of shield though I tried for Robbie.

So many THINGS

#hey i am a huge image fangirl if i havent screamed about that enough yet #ive been feeling emotional over comics #ever since invincible dropped the teaser #like legit tears smh #tumblr chabged how you do readmores i guess #i tried tk hide this so sorry if youre scrolling oast #i just #fuckjng love comics you guys

5 notes · View notes

itsomgitsgreenblogging · 4 years

Text

It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You): A Critical Role Fanfic

Guess who’s back? Honestly, I have to thank the Essek Fanclub Server for this. You guys are awesome, and an amazing inspiration. 2019 was a pretty bad year in terms of my writing, but, it ended amazingly because of the Critical Role Fandom. Here’s to 2020! Have some hot wizard yearning and sexy dream sequences inspired by my favorite song by the 1975.

Enjoy!

Warning: Explicit Sexual Content

Read it on AO3

Preview:

This was all because he hadn’t seen the Mighty Nein in a month. He was...getting all confused and acting like some sort of lovelorn maiden from one of the trashy Empire smut novels that he definitely didn’t read after he confiscated them.

“By the Luxon, let them come back soon, or else I might really go mad,” Essek muttered to himself.

“Where are they?” asked a courtier. The question was hissed at Essek as he paused in the Lucid Bastion, the green-lantern glow washing his face out to a pallid hue.

“I do not know,” Essek said simply, with a smile, finding it better than lying.

____

“Where are they?” Professor Waccoh grumbled at Essek, over the tops of the papers she had stacked on her desk. Reports, ideas, and death machines all found their place there, scattered like snowflakes or ashes amongst the heap.

“I do not know,” Essek responded, still smiling.

____

“Where are they?” the Bright Queen demanded, hand dripping with jewels glinting like knives in the light as she slammed it upon the table.

Essek smiled, and shook his head.

____

“Where are you?” Essek asked the empty house, but the windows remained darkened. It stared back into him, searching, and he didn’t have a response.

____

“Will you be long, Shadowhand?”

“Not too long, but I do wish for some privacy,” Essek told his shadow with a sidelong look. In the next moment, the shadow disappeared. For a moment he remained outside the temple, just relishing the stolen moments of being alone, before slipping inside the building without any further delay. Really, it was better to get this over with.

The Temple of the Lord of Light that was closest to the Bright Queen’s abode was a lavish affair. The ceilings were crowded with rows of geometrically patterned lanterns that cast a glow that could be hard for Essek’s eyes to handle. Carved into the walls were the sculptures depicting the mythology of the Lord of Light, His Glorious creation, the Vanquishing of the Spider Queen, and the Ascension of the Bright Queen. Along that were prayer altars that various drow and other citizens of the Dynasty huddled by, to light their own candle and pray. Often when one saw Essek float by, they bowed their heads out of respect for him.

He approached the private praying rooms, and as he did so he apparently caught the eye of one of the clerics. Essek recognized her as Derise, one of the head clerics of the Lord of Light. Though he loathed to do so, he dispelled his levitation magic. His heels clicked as they touched the floor. Clerics could be touchy about the appearance of power in their sacred spaces, and many of those with power among the clergy did not like him for a litany of reasons. He was young, not of one of the storied bloodlines, rather recently adopted in comparison to others, and yet he had gained remarkable power within his first life. They didn’t like him because he wasn’t one of their little puppets and he knew all their secrets in a way that perhaps only the Luxon might, and that made them afraid of him.

(Though he didn’t wish to think of them, it was part of the reason he had found certain members of the Mighty Nein so refreshing. Religion without certain pretenses had its own charms.)

“Lord Shadowhand,” Derise said, pointedly not bowing her head. She held her head up high instead, as if issuing him a challenge. Essek, instead, smiled as he usually did. He curled his fingers behind his back in a display of complete openness.

“Lady Derise, I pray the Light finds you well on this day,” Essek said, not bowing because he was certainly still wearing his back brace. Instead he inclined his head an inch. A vein jumped at her jaw. Amatuer, Essek thought derisively.

“And may it find you well, too. It is a lovely surprise to see you haunt these halls,” Derise said, with a tight smile. “I am sure the Bright Queen will be pleased to hear you are working on your religious studies today.”

“Matters of security tend to keep me from my spiritual needs. A bad habit of mine, unfortunately. The Bright Queen understands, of course, being the leader she is.”

“The Bright Queen is certainly accommodating with her favorites,” Lady Derise said, looking down at him from her nose.

“I am afraid that I am far too stubborn to be accomodated,” Essek laughed lightly as he walked forward only pausing to look back at her. “Your daughter, however, is a very accommodating creature. I know she was so pleased about her cousin’s engagement to General Dozall, that is how she ended up at his house at the witching hour.”

“That--it was---” Derise sucked on the air like it had been punched out of her chest. she coughed hastily, like being caught on her own deceit was physically painful. Really it was pitiful when those older than him were so easily tangled in the web. He almost felt bad for her. Almost. But it wasn’t in his nature to pardon stupidity.

“Hm? Well, all’s well that ends well,” Essek said evenly. “You really ought to go to a healer. I can always have one of my shadows escort you, just like they did for your daughter. It wouldn’t do to have you in trouble, my lady.”

“I am too busy to entertain bad jokes, Lord Shadowhand,” Derise said, her tone clipped and icy. “May the Light keep you.”

“And may it keep you as well.”

Derise stormed off. Essek found the royal prayer chamber, which he was allowed to use due to his position as Shadowhand, off of the main cathedral. It was a beautiful chamber with lofted roof painted with images of the constellations and the sun and the moon. In the center was a large fountain, portraying one of the first lives of the Bright Queen holding her arms aloft with the dodecahedron, about her were creatures of the forest and behind her was the fountain styled as a waterfall. It was popular among artist renderings of the queen to have her placed like that, though the fountain of youth iconography was a bit on the nose for him. Essek enjoyed the arts, but hadn’t had time to properly commission something since he had his portrait painted.

He cleaned his fingers within the blessed waters, before kneeling before the altar. He cleared his mind, closed his eyes, and prayed in Undercommon,

“Oh Glorious Lord of Light, You who were first in the Universe and Master of All Creation. Keep me and bless me, in this life and my future lives. Let Your glow illuminate the darkness inside, so that I may reach new heights. Show me the way as you did Our Most Righteous Queen, so that I may never be led astray. Let me pray for ascension, for consecution…”

There was the sound of delicate footsteps upon the marble and rustling fabric. Essek opened his eyes and looked to see the Bright Queen. As always she was arresting to look at, today fashioned more like a river-bathed-in-moonlight. She was without the armor she tended to wear at court, but adorned with a necklace made of platinum and blue topaz that clasped high at her throat and spilled across her skin like the tide. He began to stand, but she lifted her hand and he remained where he was.

“Your recitation of the Book of Madark is quite beautiful,” the Bright Queen remarked, looking towards the altar with the deeply fervent expression she always did. “I always did prefer Madark. He made me sound quite grand.”

“He never overstated your glory, your majesty,” Essek said honestly, bowing his head slowly.

“Madark was quite in love with me, I’m afraid,” the Bright Queen sighed, smoothing out her dress that shimmered like the scales of a fish. “Quite boorish about it too. I do not like men who overstay their welcome.”

“Or women who flirt and swoon,” Essek added before clearing his throat, “And the glorious star herself, may She guide us forever. Our Eternal Blessed Queen, who Heralded the Truth. Beauty Incarnate, who sets the heart ablaze with a single look-- ”

“Oh, the Book of Terawane. Ghastly stuff. I always told her that she was much better suited to singing than to writing. So melodramatic,” the Bright Queen said with a long-suffering hum. “I can bear it when you recite it, Essek. But do not make me listen to the High Priest give his lecture of how my breasts are twin fawns and my lips are a violet ribbon one more time.”

“Are you asking me to sanction his disposal?” Essek asked, taking a seat beside her.

“Nothing so dire,” the Bright Queen laughed, her voice silvered bells upon the marble and high ceiling. She looked into the fire of the candlelight thoughtfully. “No…”

Looking upon her, he often wondered what she felt. She had achieved perfection, she was the umavi. And yet as the firelight danced across her cheek, Essek wondered if she ever tired. She broke his revelry with a tap of her fingers against the stone bench.

“I’m sure you need no news,” the Bright Queen said. “The Mighty Nein have met with King Dwendal after being missing for so many weeks.”

“I was aware.”

“What do your shadows tell you that the human arcanist did not? Was it right to pull back the assault do you think?”

“Yes, it was. It was the cultists who were utilizing our assault to better their aims, we have confirmed reports of a Priestess of the Dawnfather being in cahoots with the conspiracy, and the Mighty Nein dispatched her. Now they work to broker peace. They are being asked to coordinate a parlay between Empire and Dynasty, by giving us back one of the beacons. In their private talks, they are anxious about finding a neutral location, but have not seemed to betray us. Though, Beauregard did state she infiltrated us to get closer to the enemy.”

This was all really just a formality. She knew what he knew, and he knew what She knew. Just another part of the game, Essek thought. The game in which they would all be winners or they would all be losers. It would be up to the Mighty Nein, and the prospect was somewhat terrifying.

“Just that claim is enough for me to have them killed on sight,” the Bright Queen warned him.

“Considering the slipshod job they did of infiltrating us, I find it very likely and compelling that they are just saying what they need to say to retrieve the beacon. That was the assignment given, and that seems to be what they are doing. Besides, they did not hinder our operatives while in the Empire.”

“One of the reasons you amuse me so is you are such a delightful pacifist,” the Bright Queen said.

“So long as it amuses you, your majesty.”

“You would be all I wish you to be, then? Have you no thoughts of your own?” the Bright Queen dared.

“All I have ever done, and will ever do, I do to serve at your leisure. I am just one of the voices you allow to fill up your ear. However, considering you chose and continue to choose to fill it with mine, it gives me some hope about where your opinion lies.”

“And where is that?”

“The long game, your majesty. It would do the Dynasty no good to rip the Empire out by the throat, utterly decimating their population and society. It would only serve to prove the Empire’s propaganda right, and move the masses against us. Instead, we take the high road. We show the Empire citizens we are not the monsters they claim us to be. And then, slowly, we can...improve upon their society,” Essek said simply.

“You care for the masses.”

“I must admit my bias for the common people, no matter their country of origin. At my core, I am still very much the street rat Skysybil yanked off the street.”

“And does it not concern you that they haven’t messaged?”

“I’m sure they are just busy, saving the world and all that,” Essek stated.

"Are you sure you are not just lonely for your wizard pet?" The Bright Queen's asked.

"This is far more amusing," Essek promised with a smile.

The Bright Queen's considered him. She reached out to cup his face and turn it up towards the candlelight. Essek blinked rapidly, but was docile and allowed her to do what she wished.

"Tell me something that no one else knows, Essek," she commanded him.

"I have no secrets from you, your majesty," Essek said, unable to help the way his head tipped to the side in curiosity. "What would you have me tell you?"

"I would have you look at me, unhindered by the mask you wear," she bid him, her fingers running in his hair. "And tell me your feelings, uninhibited. Do you believe that I am in the right?"

"With all of my heart," Essek said without hesitation, "I believe in you, for you are my sovereign."

"And you live to serve me, of course. But do you trust in my judgement?"

"I do, but I do not trust those who may seek to influence your decisions. You are divine, my queen, but not infallible. Though I am devoted to you with all of my heart, I will do my best to change your mind should I think you wrong.”

"With most of your heart," the Bright Queen's corrected, releasing him. "I hope you don’t take me for a sentimental idiot. You are a mortal, and your desires are that of a wild young foolish creature."

“I’m sure it seems that way.”

“They cannot be changed, my dear Shadowhand,” the Bright Queen said mournfully. “My nation will only ever be safe when the Empire has been decimated. It is within their nature to expand and conquer, and even if we broker a peace now it will not last.”

“If you believed that, I would be out of the job,” Essek informed her.

“Perhaps,” the Bright Queen stated. “But for now, what can we do besides pray?”

Between that breath and the next she was gone, leaving him in the prayer chamber alone.

_____

"Will you require anything else, my Lord?"

Essek looked up from his reading to see one of his servants. Essek smiled at him, and watched as the servant relaxed minutely and settled the tray with tea by the bedside table. This one was a newer hire, an assistant to the cook when he wasn’t completing general housekeeping tasks though Essek had the sneaking suspicion he would prove to be a better cook with time. It was important, to know and cultivate your assets.

“No, Amald, you are dismissed for the night,” Essek said. “Tell your wife I send my regards and well wishes to her health. She is with her third, yes?”

“And ready for the end of it, I’m afraid,” Amald said, tusks showing with his smile. “This pregnancy has not been easy on her. Our Denmother believes the birth will be difficult too.”

“Well, I shall send for my personal healer then,” Essek said, closing his book. He held up his hand at Amald’s immediate attempt at response. “Do not worry about the cost, I shall take care of it. Consider it my gift to you and your wife, and a favor I may ask repaid.”

“Of course,” Amald said his voice rich with feeling and gratefulness, bowing so deeply that Essek was worried he would topple over. “You are most kind, my lord.”

Essek blinked at the sight, fighting off his frown easily. Essek often enjoyed compliments. He was handsome, talented, shrewd, powerful, generous any number of things. Kind though? Not one of the usual ones.

“Until tomorrow,” Essek said, and Amald took off.

Essek enjoyed the remainder of his tea, a wonderful blend of ginger, licorice root, peppermint, and chamomile. He always found going into a trance so much more pleasant on the tail-end of nice tea and a good book. He could almost hear his Denmother lecturing him about the importance of trance, after collapsing with exhaustion during his first year of his education.

Essek slipped into bed, laying down among the sheets and pillows. It was always easier to trance when he wasn’t sitting, or his back would protest. He listened to his heart beat, to the breath in his lungs, felt the way his ribs moved beneath his skin, fell deeper...deeper…

He was in his Denmother’s salon. Not his Denmother yet...at least not on paper. Mathulsda Theylss was frowning at him severely, looking him up and down as if all his faults were written upon his features and could be categorized accordingly.

“Smile in a way that doesn’t make you look like you swallowed a frog,” his Denmother scolded. Essek’s reflection looked back at him. A sixteen year old Essek looked annoyed at best, contemptuous at worst. “Smile.”

“I don’t want to smile,” Essek snapped at her.

“You are lucky you were born in this era, boy,” his Denmother scoffed, leaving his side for a moment to take a sip at some wine. “Or you wouldn’t have a choice about what was done with your pretty face. You were the one complaining about the way they treat you, listen to my advice or don’t bother to complain.”

“How is smiling better going to help me? They hate me because they think me common,” Essek demanded, and was given a pinched cheek for his question. She released him and he held his cheek, glaring at her.

“No, they hate you because they know you are anything but common,” she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She looked at herself in the mirror, and Essek looked at her reflection and saw the transformation. She was truly arresting, in the way she smiled and turned her head just so. “It is easy then, to change hatred to love. You suss out those who hate you, and then you go to their friends. You find their weaknesses and can exploit them easily, because there is nothing for them to hate about you. Your professors will adore you, and will teach you all you wish to know. The noble dens will look at you and say, what a wonderful boy. The Bright Queen will favor you. Forget how to frown, Essek. That horrid little street urchin you were doesn’t exist. You are pretty, pleasant, considerate, and you smile. It is no longer a mask you can slip on and slip off when you play your childish little games with Skysybil. It is who you are now, forever.”

“I’m not like that, that’s not who I am,” Essek said, staring at himself. “I’m…”

“Essek Theylss is,” she said softly, as if it were a mercy. Her hands were upon his shoulders. “If you wish to be Essek Theylss, it’s who you will become. If you cannot get along with them, if you cannot make allies and cannot play the game, we have no use for you. There are other children with talent, though maybe not as talented as you, but they can become far more useful to us if you will not. So? Are you willing?”

Essek watched his own reflection as he schooled his face into a soft smile. It fit onto his face cleanly, naturally, as if this were the way he was always meant to look. Maybe it was the way he was meant to look. Maybe she was right. If this was what everyone wanted then this was for the best. The Denmother patted his shoulder, in a mockery of fondness that tore that thought out by the root.

“Very good, Essek,” she praised, standing in front of him to fix the collar of his uniform. She was taller than him, looking down at him with cruel delight. “Isn’t that so much better? We must always look our best, don’t we--?”

Wake up!

Essek tore himself out of that trance, jerking up so fast that his back twinged. He pressed his hands to his face, taking a few moments to just breathe. He knew better than this, Essek thought, thoroughly annoyed at himself as he lay back down with a huff. A trance was a fluid state, a visitation of memories or dreams affected by waking emotions and thoughts. Bad thoughts led to bad memories or dreams which led to bad trances.

“All I have are bad thoughts,” Essek said as he breathed out to the ceiling, resigned to his fate. There was just too much jumbled together in his mind, too much worry.

Something you don’t know? Essek thought crossly. I miss the Mighty Nein, their shenanigans and their quirks that make me feel like I am not altogether that odd and that I have my life in a workable order. I don’t believe that I have a mask anymore, there is only this. I don’t know how to be without a smile. I don’t even know what it��s like to be that person anymore, but I feel as close to it as I ever have when I am with Caleb Widogast of all people. I want them to like me. I want him to want me, whoever that is.

Essek continued to breathe, though he felt that it was a struggle. He needed to rest. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t be as sharp as he needed to be.

Rest, Essek told himself, forcing his eyes closed. Rest.

Entering into a trance again, he was greeted with a dark space. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was a comforting absence. It was a night sky without stars, the inside of your eyelids, the feeling of being underwater, in the warmth, in the bath--

"Essek," Caleb murmured.

Essek was in bed, somewhere comfortable and soft. A weight on the bed next to him, a body pressed deliciously to his as if searching for warmth. This wasn’t what he wanted, Essek thought dizzily. He wouldn’t be able to rest like this, not when his body suddenly felt so alive.

“Essek,” Caleb called again. There was a dip in the bed, the sensation of being straddled, a press of a kiss to his neck. Essek shuddered at the soft touch, the way he was being kissed like he was precious. Like he would shatter at a harsher touch. He gasped as his eyes fluttered open.

“Oh,” he sighed, reaching up to touch Caleb’s face, brushing across his cheek with the back of his hand. Caleb leaned into the touch as if he chased it. His eyes were the powdery blue flowers painted in the mural on their barbarian's wall, regarding him with a tender, searching expression. The emotional whiplash almost took Essek right out of this, but he was anchored by the feeling of Caleb’s body against his.

“Will you stay with me?” Caleb asked him, catching his hand. He nuzzled it sweetly, causing goosebumps to ripple across Essek’s skin, before cradling Essek's face in his hands. Caleb didn’t smile as much as he should, in fact, Essek had gotten the distinct impression that Caleb had long since gotten out of the practice of smiling. But he would look so lovely, if given the opportunity. Essek’s traitorous heart told him that perhaps he would be the one to offer those opportunities, if Caleb would let him.

"Yes," Essek said, managing to get the word out from his heavy tongue. Caleb managed to remedy that problem by dipping his head down and catching Essek in a kiss. Essek tipped his head, to deepen the kiss, to let it linger as long as he could. To feel the imprint of teeth and the stroke of the tongue that left him tingling all over. Essek trailed his fingers over Caleb's bare arms, feeling the hair there, the rough criss-cross of scars against sun-worn freckled skin.

They kissed and explored each other without worry or haste, until Essek lay breathless beneath Caleb, allowing Caleb to pamper his skin with attention, to lavish him with his desire in a way that had him shivering. Essek couldn’t untangle himself from Caleb, from his legs or his arms, and he didn’t want to. Essek was caught there and he never wanted to escape from Caleb’s arms.

"You are so beautiful," Caleb whispered, nipping his collarbone. Essek's breath caught in his throat.

Essek regarded Caleb through a half-lidded gaze, memorizing the exact way Caleb’s hair escaped his tie, and the constellation of freckles dusted across his nose. The adorable little human curve of his ear, the human thickness of his body. Essek had seen the way that others looked at Caleb, with a desire that soaked in one’s skin like a warm summer rain. It made Essek covetous and proud, because Caleb had eyes for him. They were a well-matched pair, in Essek’s opinion.

"Please, do tell me what you find so beautiful about me," Essek bid him.

“Smug,” Caleb chuckled.

“I am merely asking for the facts of the matter,” Essek told him, sitting up. He climbed into Caleb’s lap, something very bold and daring for him, but it was nice to be somewhat taller than Caleb in that moment. Essek found the shell of Caleb’s ear he had previously admired, tracing it with his lips and the barest brush of his canine, letting Caleb shudder under his touch. He curled his arms around Caleb’s neck, looking deep into Caleb’s eyes as he pulled his head back with the softest tug. Caleb bared his neck to him easily, so easily submitting to the touch, and it set upon Essek the fire of desire “Tell me, be a clever boy and tell me what I want to hear.”

“You are the most powerful and beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes upon,” Caleb groaned, moving their hips together in a way that made Essek shudder. “I need you. No one else could ever compare to you, Essek.”

“Yes,” Essek gasped, feeling Caleb hot and hard and longing against him. It was driving him crazy. He had spent so long without a lover, without sampling the pleasures of flesh. He hadn’t needed it, and he hadn’t missed the few and sparse flings of his youth. They had been bare-boned things that couldn’t even be called romance, a simple almost instinctual satisfying of urges, a useful distraction, a way to utilize his pretty face to get what he needed. Knowledge, power, the game of politics had been so much more entertaining, and intellectual curiosity being quenched was so much more satisfying. People were easy to manipulate when they were kept at an arm’s length, it was so much easier to smile when there was nothing at stake.

But this? This was something else entirely. He couldn’t even control his body, couldn’t think through the haze of desire. He resurfaced and had to have pushed Caleb underneath him, because suddenly his hands were digging into his shoulders and his hips were moving desperately to the staccato rhythm of his heart as Caleb dragged him harder and more deliciously against him. Pleasure tore him open, it filled him up, it was so good--!

“Look at you,” Caleb moaned, pressing his flame-hot hands against Essek’s belly. “So lovely, so beautiful wrung out like this, just for me. What a treasure you are…”

“More,” Essek demanded, not sure how much longer he could last but wanting to wring out this moment as long as he could. Everything was on fire, on a pin-needle edge, but he wanted to be greedy. He wanted all the things he couldn’t allow himself, all the things that Caleb could give him and that he could give to Caleb in equal measure.

Oh by the Light, they were making love. The realization made Essek lightheaded, it made his back arch with the intensity of the sensation, it sent his teeth on edge. He would be ruined for everything else, Caleb would ruin him, but he had to give in.

“You are exquisite,” Caleb gasped, reverently, desperately--lovingly and then he gave in to the pleasure, forcing Essek over the edge with the intensity. Essek wilted upon him, no more strength in his limbs to hold him. Caleb stroked him through it, with him. For a few blissful moments, there was nothing else in his mind.

Slowly though, he emerged. Essek peppered Caleb’s face with kisses, curling his leg around him, burying his face into Caleb’s shoulder and his soft, fragrant hair. Caleb’s fingers scratched the back of his head, in a way that made him sigh with sated pleasure.

“It is time to wake, Essek,” Caleb chuckled, voice amused and hazy with warm gentle lovemaking.

“No,” Essek grumbled, more firmly pressing himself to Caleb. It was a stubborn childish thing that well in his chest, but he didn’t care. In that moment, completely divulged of his mask, he just wanted to be selfish.

“Yes, it is,” Caleb said wistfully, and as Caleb gently stroked Essek’s back in soft comforting waves that drew him deeper, further...softer…

Essek resurfaced having drooled into his pillow. He sat up and looked at himself in the mirror, at his mussed bed-head and very inelegant splotches across his cheek and--his dream!

His face burst into heat, he grabbed the closest pillow, buried his face into it, and bit into it hard to stifle his scream. Oh by the Light! Had he reverted back into his second decade? He thanked the Luxon and all the Gods above and below for the gift of living alone. He didn’t think he had ever been so mortified in his entire life.

“I’ll never be able to look at him again,” Essek said mournfully, spitting out feathers he had managed to rip out with his fangs. He brought his blessedly cool fingers up to press to his hot cheeks.

“By the Luxon, let them come back soon, or else I might really go mad,” Essek muttered to himself.

His reflection in the mirror seemed to agree.

#Critical Role #Critical Role Fanfic #shadowgast #essek theylss #caleb widogast

57 notes · View notes

alistircrat · 4 years

Text

Hetalila Fanfiction Recs

Here’s a list of some of my favorite Hetalia fanfictions. Most have pairings, which I’ll specify. I put this up because I know I’m always on the lookout for good fanfiction and I wanted to help out anyone else who’s in the same boat :D Feel free to add onto this or rec me some too ;) Also a good master list of the ones I like LMAO. I’ve noticed I either like tragic, angsty fanfiction or really fluffy ones. A lot are rated M. And a LOT of USUK and Spamano #srynotsry Disclaimer: I did not write any of these; they all belong to their respective authors.

Update: Ive had this sitting in my drafts for like over 4 years and i began it when i was super into hetalia n fanfiction LMAO, what better time to post this when i should be studying lmao its nearly 4 am halp

UsUK

The Secret : Rated T, 32k words, 5 chapters, Drama/Romance, Complete Arthur's sister, engaged to prince Alfred, is killed before she even meets him. Arthur's parents do not want to shame themselves by ending the engagement and force Arthur to dress like his sister and marry Alfred instead. But can this secret be kept? (note: very interesting!! I loved every second of it)

The Courting of Alfred Jones : Rated M, 26k words, 13 chapters, Romance/Hurt/Comfort, Incomplete Alfred Jones is the most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic. This is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim', but Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred (note: Rated M, so there IS some explicit material and I advise viewer discretion. Another highschool AU. Sad that it’s probably not going to finish but it’s worth the read)

When I Only Wanted to Save the World : Rated M, 29k words, 11 chapter, Romance, Complete Alfred is a firefighter in New York City. When he gets badly injured, he takes a trip to London to recover. There he meets a man named Arthur, who ends up helping him recover from wounds he didn't even know he had. (note: warmed my weeb heart)

United Again : Rated T, 31k words, 7 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Arthur gets a letter in the mail informing him of his school's ten year reunion.

Unexpected : Rated T, 5.7k words, One-shot, Humor/Drama, Complete World Academy. When Arthur was asked to tutor the star of the American Football team, he expected several things. Sitting in an apartment full of Asian children was not one of them. (cute!)

The Invitational Year : Rated M, 208k words, 41 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Alfred is an awkward dork, despite the fact his dad is President. Arthur is a member of British royalty, and he's a perfectionist loner. Both boys are given an invitation to attend the prestigious World Academy and, naturally, they're roomies. (note: A favorite of mine! Quite long but very much worth it. Highschool AU. Can be silly yet dramatic. Anyways, you should read it! Viewer discretion due to sexual themes)

The Sophomore Year : Rated M, 173k words, 34 chapter, Romance/Drama, Complete After meeting at boarding school, Alfred and Arthur became unlikely friends and then lovers. Now, they'll face their sophomore year in America and all the challenges that come with being young, famous, and madly in love. (note: sequal to The Invitational Year)

And All That Jazz : Rated M, 98k words, 22 chapters, Romance, Complete Alfred is approached by the Student Body President, Arthur, for help on his math exam. They hate each other, but maybe opposites can attract with the help of something unexpected. (note: I love this fic. Highschool AU. Also involves music...cuz liek yknow the title)

1912 : Rated T, 52k words, 9 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Cynical, overweight and bored in the dull twilight of his empire, Arthur finds distraction in the form of rekindling his relationship with Alfred on board the RMS Titanic during her doomed maiden voyage.

The Arrow was Shot : Rated K+, 5.8k words, One-shot, Romance, Complete In order to win his family's respect, Arthur enters a tournament to win the Princess of America's hand in marriage. At the tournament, he befriends the mysterious Alfred- a fellow competitor who is equally determined to win. As he and Alfred grow closer, he begins to question what is more important to him: his family's respect... or Alfred.

Flirting with Failure : Rated T, 2k words, One-shot, Romance/Humor, Complete Alfred just wanted to get one date with Arthur Kirkland before the semester ended. To do that he had to speak with him. Thus, he was set up for failure.

Hero Frequency : Rated T, 12k words, 3 chapters, Romance/Humor, Incomplete America's got the coolest and most awesome band in school, and he's totally going to win the Battle of the Bands contest. Or at least he might, if he can get England to put aside their past issues long enough to play guitar...

The Gentleman and the Hero : Rated T, 57k words, 21 chapters, Romance, Complete World Academy students have been paired up for an anonymous email exchange program, so they can talk to someone about school and personal problems in private. These are the emails of two students nicknamed 'The Gentleman' and 'The Hero'. (note: I also love this. I find it very cute and also very in character. I want an email buddy lol. Highschool AU)

Breathless : Rated T, 35k words, 4 chapters, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Complete Arthur Kirkland never thought that golden boy Alfred Jones would ever have a reason to attempt suicide. Then again, how much did he really know about the oh so popular blonde? The rumor mill would surely chew him up and spit him out. (note: p sure this is another favorite of mine. Though angsty, I really enjoyed the development between the two. Highschool AU. Really great read!!)

Static : Rated T, 45k words, 9 chapters, Drama/Romance, Incomplete Sequel to Breathless. Arthur always thought that the incident with Alfred's arms would forever be the biggest hurdle their friendship would face. But as the looks change and the touches linger, it becomes frightfully clear that he was dead wrong about that. (note: continues after Breathless, but not finished ): worth the read anyway)

Ask Me Anything : Rated T, 7k words, One-shot, Romance/Humor, Complete Alfred starts to follow Arthur on tumblr. It's not long until they become friends... and possibly more.

The Cost of Affection : Rated M, 61k words, 32 chapters, Angst/Romance, Incomplete Being a whore is easy: all Arthur has to do is spread his legs and take the money. He doesn't have to face his past; nor does he have to deal with love. And for good reason - because when he does fall head-over-heels for someone, he's forced to realize that his sins go beyond prostitution, and that even as he rediscovers himself, his past is coming back to haunt him after all.

You Can’t Take the Sky Away From Me : Rated T, 113k words, 32 chapters, Adventure/Romance, Incomplete Ace pilot America is on a mission for the World Military when a chance encounter with a group of sky-pirates leads him to team up with their captain, England, against a malevolent group that wants to fill the sky with zeppelins. (note: Steampunk AU. This is a really cool fic!)

We’ll Meet Again : Rated M, 43k words, 13 chapters, Romance/Angst, Complete WW2 AU. London pub owner Arthur Kirkland is driven to distraction by loud, brash American fighter pilot Alfred Jones. Unable to stop it, Arthur finds himself falling for Alfred's charms... just as the pilot is preparing to leave for war. (note: a hetalia fandom clASSIC. MUST READ. unfortunately the OG fics were deleted so someone reposted it, giving credit to the OG author George deValier. this will rip ur heart out n tape it poorly back together)

Franada

La Patisserie de La Rose : Rated M, 35k words, 6 chapters, Romance, Complete Accountant Matthew Williams is used to being unnoticed, ignored, and forgotten. That is until pastry chef Francis Bonnefoy appears like a burst of colour in his dull, grey life.

AmeViet (yes, Vietnam!)

Hard to Get : Rated T, 57k words, 20 chapters, Adventure/Romance, Complete During World War Two, serious, limited Vietnam meets the boisterous America. Amid fighting, friendship, and stress, America tries to get Vietnam to like him, but she won't let that happen. Or will she? (note: One of my all-time favorites, unforgettable. I can never find fics of this pairing, it’s so hard! But this is a really great fic, highly recommend. also after learning more about Vietnam history, i might give this yet ANOTHER re-read with my new perspectives)

Of Broken Promises and the Taste of Freedom : Rated T, 1.4k words, One-shot, Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Complete Vaguely, Vietnam wondered if this was what freedom tasted like. If perhaps, the hot waves that crashed through her body and set her skin on fire was what it was like to know that you are truly free.

GerIta (apologies, I don’t read too much GerIta LOL)

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart : Rated M, 104k words, 18 chapters, Romance/Angst, Complete WW2 AU. Feliciano Vargas is a passionate, if slightly scared, Italian resistance member. Falling in love with a German fighter pilot was the last thing he expected... and it will test his national loyalty, and his heart, to their limits. (note: another VeraVerse, so well written! you will not ragret. also a repost since Og was deleted, all credit to George deValier)

RusAme

Dear Diary : Rated T, 55k words, 17 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Alfred F. Jones isn't gay. Just read his diary; you'll see. (note: I absolutely love high school or college AUs, omg. Also this is hilarious. I can really relate to how Alfred's rambling)

PruHun

The Most Awesome Date Plan Ever : Rated T, 7.5k words, 6 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete It was foolproof. He had worked out every plan, every detail and each possible outcome almost guaranteed him Elizaveta's love. Until it was ruined by Gilbert's two cockblocking best friends. (note: funny and cute)

Táncol? : Rated K+, 24k words, 6 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Elizaveta is determined to find out who Gilbert wants to ask out for the school dance. If that means bullying his friends, being hired by Gilbert to slave over a cake, and invading his diaries, so be it. (note: Another favorite! Very cute)

Hello Hurricane : Rated T, 61k words, 18 chapters, Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy, Complete Sequel to "Táncol?" Elizaveta, Ludwig, Francis, and Antonio are forced to watch Gilbert slowly fade away every day. (note: It might seem like I have lots of favorites, cuz I do and this is one of them. Warning, I cried a lot towards the end. Highly recommend)

PruCan

That Song Called Love : Rated T, 62k words, 25 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Matthew had always resigned himself to a fate of musical obscurity on a supporting instrument, but after meeting an ex-delinquent named Gilbert, he just might learn to take the lead. (note: contains other minor pairings. Although she doesn’t play a huge role I’m so happy Vietnam is in it Dx)

Operation Not to Hot : Rated T, 10k words, 2 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete Gilbert Beilschmidt is dorky, nerdy, and has serious confidence issues. He doesn't really care about himself until he sees Matthew Williams, AKA super-hot-hockey-jock. With Matthew's heart in mind, Gilbert undergoes a complete transformation. (note: funny story. Prussia being Prussia)

Overdue : Rated T, 12k words, 8 chapters, Romance/Supernatural, Complete "Well, Gott, Mattie, at least look someone in the eye when you tell them you're a ghost. Make a good impression!" (note: cute lil one-shot series)

I Have all Summer to Fall For You : Rated T, 162k words, 38 chapters, Incomplete At school, Gilbert makes fun of Matthew, and Matthew just wants to be left alone. But then when the hot days of summer roll around, and they have nothing but free time, things happen that NO ONE could have planned for! (note: MY ALL-TIME FAV PRUCAN FiC Ever. Probably will never finish but the length and quality make up for it)

PruAus

Please Don’t Read the Verdict : Rated M, 57k words, 11 chapters, Romance/Crime, Incomplete District Attorney Roderich Edelstein is faced with a gruesome, controversial murder. He has three months to build a case against the accused, but more than his will to prosecute may be destroyed in the process. (note: sadly not done, but highly interesting!)

Lily of the Lamplight : Rated M, 27k words, 4 chapters, Romance/Angst, Incomplete WW2 AU. Austrian musician Roderich and German soldier Gilbert are forced into an army prison unit and a fight for survival on the Russian Front. But in the midst of blood and death and hell on earth, how long can they fight their desire for each other? (note: MY 👏 FAV 👏 VERAVERSE 👏 I loveeee this fic, I’m so SAD it’s nEvEr going to be completed. Savor those 4 chapters. Luckily theyre long *cries* Also love the set of main characters, including Prussia, Austria, Berwald, and Poland. Also listen to the song the title is based off of, i luv it too)

SuFin

Cheers to a New Life : Rated M, 94k words, 47 chapters, Romance/Family, Complete Sweden could only find a job as a Kindergarten teacher and the famous Kirkland's little Peter happens to be enrolled into his class. But it is not Mr. Arthur Kirkland who is picking Peter up, it's this angel with the greatest ass Berwald's ever seen. (note: viewer discretion, mostly on later chapters. also has cute lil Peter/Sealand)

My Heart, In Segments : Rated T, 14k words, 10 chapters, Family/Hurt/Comfort, Complete Berwald is a man left alone, and Peter was a kid left behind. Berwald's not really the perfect dad, Peter's not really innocent anymore, and Tino's not really sure he's ready for something so real. But, maybe... Maybe it's time.

In Want of a Wife : Rated T, 41k words, 18 chapters, Romance/Humor, Incomplete Berwald's life is turned upside down when he is accepted into Hetalia International University, and everything changes for the better when he catches a glimpse of his future wife who lives down the hall. Who cares if Tino doesn't accept it yet? (note: Human AU; Lietpol is a bonus in all this hehe)

Treatment : Rated T, 55k words, 12 chapters, Romance/Humor, Incomplete Tino is a young psychology major, well known for being kind and eager to help others with their issues, but less so for his habit of profiling "patients" on campus. His therapist's eye has fixed on Berwald, but will he be the one who ends up on the couch? (note: Though not fully done, it’s one of my favorite sufin fics. Also hilarious bahah)

Catch Perfect : Rated T, 35k words, 8 chapters, Romance/Friendship, Incomplete When Berwald loses everything he is forced to move into a share house with an insane Dane, a sociopathic Norwegian, an unfathomable Icelander and a perfect Finn who makes it all worth putting up with. (note: can be crazy and random, which is probs why I liked it so much. also by George deValier I believe, reposted onto wattpad after it got deleted)

DenNor

Hummingbird : Rated T, 61k words, 12 chapters, Tragedy/Hurt/Comfort, Complete Lukas' only goal in life was to take care of his younger brother, until he was diagnosed with an irregular heart rhythm. His originally peaceful stay in hospital was interrupted when the loud, cheerful Mathias was moved into the bed beside him and refused to leave him alone; yet as his health began to deteriorate, the Dane decided to fall in love with him. (note: I love this fic so much, it’s also another favorite of mine. Very cute but with lots of angst, ahhh just what I ordered)

Secret Crowds : Rated M, 3.4k words, One-shot, Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Complete An explosion leaves Denmark with a permanent brain injury and Norway struggles to find his role in their relationship as the line between lover and caregiver begins to blur. (sad and touching)

I also read a lot of DenNor so im like ?? where the fics at LOL. but i think i read more DenNor doujinshis, so that’s def something yall should look into

Spamano

A Beautiful Story : Rated T, 16k words, 10 chapters, Tragedy/Romance, Complete Lovino Romano Vargas is a suicidal designer who is unhappy with his fate. One day, he chances to meet Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who turns his life upside down.

Flashlight : Rated T, 38k words, 11 chapters, Parody/Romance, Complete "If I throw a tomato at you, vampire bastard, will you still sparkle under the sauce?" (note: OKAY SO This is actually a Twilight parody w Romano as Bella and Spain as Edward. I don’t really like Twilight but I really like this version of it lmao. Funny and a good read. Mostly Romano’s POV, cRACK )

New Batteries : Rated T, 41k words, 10 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Sequel to Flashlight. "WELL, I NEVER LIKED YOU, EITHER. WHAT NOW, YOU STUPID SPARKLY EXCUSE OF A VAMPIRE?" (note: also a parody, just the sequel to the previous one listed. I understand the Twilight plot through these better than the original)

Kismet : Rated M, 174k words, 52 chapters, Romance/Fantasy, Complete Lovino learns the hard way that things change and that they can change quickly. The necklace fell and now he's in a strange land far from home. Will he ever see his brother again? Will he find his way home? Or will he discover home is where the heart is? Fate is a strange woman and can work in mysterious ways. (note: RATED M, viewer discretion. the author has a list of warnings on the first chapter you can look at so you know what you’re reading. Fantasy AU)

Catch You, Catch Me : Rated M, (basically)37k words, 7 chapters, Drama/Romance, Complete Clumsy, clueless detective Romano is on the trail of the infamous handsome and charming thief El Apasionado Caballero. But there's more to this, what seems like a simple game of cat and mouse, than meets the eye.

The Bet : Rated T, 20k words, 9 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete When someone kisses you, and then moves away you'd think that would be it. But when Antonio comes back from Spain he wants Lovino to be his again. Except Lovino now hates Antonio...which sucks for Lovino because Antonio isn't going to let go that easily.

Zero Tolerance : Rated M, 55k words, 24 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Lovino lives a perfect life. Or atleast thats how he is suppose to appear. Antonio lives a life as a dangerous gangbanger. North Side meets South Side as these two are partnered in their Chemistry class. But there is one chemical reaction these 2 arent prepared for- Love. (highschool AU)

Breathless in the Atmosphere : Rated T, 31k words, 3 chapters, Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Complete Antonio only needed money for marble. He needed to make his art. And a chance encounter on the subway offers him a job as a male escort. It was just for the money. He could stop anytime he wanted to. Really. (note: viewer discretion advised. contains prostitution and suicidal ideation)

Before the Snow Falls : Rated T, 19k words, 2 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Lovino, jersey number nine, right winger. He was ready to pass the ball, ready to set up the win, but Antonio, opposite team, center fielder, was ready too. Someone thought, and someone didn't, and they crashed. Hard. A few months later, Lovino's on crutches, Antonio has scholarships, and they have to deal with the aftermath of what happened.

Door to Door : Rated T, 3.5k words, One-shot, Humor/Romance, Complete Do not open the door. It could be a zombie, an unwanted boyfriend of your brother's, or a persistant salesman by the name Antonio Carriedo.

Numbered Lithograph : Rated M, 133k words, 29 chapters, Drama/Romance, Complete When Lovino starts attending art school with his brother he finds his most important lesson doesn't come from his professors, but from a culinary student at a sister school: sometimes the flaws hold the beauty. (note: Probably my favorite spamano fic. Very touching. Has fluff and angst)

Bésame Mucho : Rated M, 48k words, 6 chapter, Angst/Romance, Incomplete WW2 AU. Lovino Vargas only ever wanted something exciting to happen in his boring, everyday Italian village existence. He never expected war, Resistance, love, passion, treason, or a cheerful, confusing, irritatingly attractive Spanish freedom fighter. (note: ANOTHER 👏 ONE 👏OF👏MY👏FAVS👏 BUT SAD BC ITLL NEVER FINISH HDUEOFREGH. Also by George DeValier and reuploaded onto wattpad (originally on ff.net)! I’m in love with the writing. Incomplete but sooo worth the read.)

Bad Touch Trio (may or may not contain pairings/slight pairings)

Oh No, We’re Hot : Rated T, 1.4k words, One-shot, Friendship/Humor, Complete In which, after a summer apart, the Bad Touch Trio realizes that they have become really attractive. Really slight hinted Spamano. (note: I absolutely love the BTT, this is a cute short fic about them)

The Trap : Rated T, 4.7k words, One-shot, Friendship/Humor, Complete The prompt was Prussia and Spain meeting France for the first time, thinking he's a girl, kiddy-courting him, then finding out he's a boy, but still kiddy-courting him. Exactly as wacky as it sounds. (note: another cute story about the BTT and their rad friendship! I need this in my life)

Multiple Pairings

Playing Cupid : Rated T, 24k words, 15 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete In Everett High School there is a secret club called the yaoi club. It is their job, during Sadies, to set up couples. This year Elizabeta has an ambitious plan. She is going to find a date for the infamous Lovino Vargas. Her choice is Antonio, unfortunately half the girls want to ask him too. Will she and her friends succeed? Spamano, UsUk, Prucan, GerIta, others (note: very cute highschool AU! highly recommend! also contains many of the hetalia girls, which is amazing~)

No Pairings

Bad Pasta : Rated T, 13k words, 6 chapter, Mystery/Tragedy, Complete Kiku and Arthur trade rooms. (note: Author also made a game based on this posted on deviantart: Bad Pasta game. I really liked it, especially since I’m into hetalia fangames and whatnot. warning, contains death of characters)

Fun with Former Vikings : Rated K+, 63k words, 17 chapters, Friendship/Family, Complete Brothers that are too awkward to even stand next to each other, husband and 'wife,' and that one guy that drinks a lot. The Nordics couldn't be any more different. And neither could the situations they get themselves into. (note: I love love love the Nordics. This is also probably one of my all-time favs. I love them as bros Dx)

God Only Threw the Humans out of Paradise : Rated K+, 4.5k words, One-shot, Friendship, Complete 12 years is nothing in the life of a Nation. But to a puppy, it's a lifetime. This is a look at 12 years of England's life through the eyes of man's best friend.

Gutters : Rated M, 98k words, 20 chapters, Adventure/Drama, Complete 'The Calamity' has left the world stripped and dying. Alone in a civilian bunker in Munich, Sealand will be reunited with the last known living member of his surrogate family and together, they will set out across Europe to find those they have lost. (note: It’s an adventure story starring Sealand and Denmark. Can be really intense and eMOTIONAL i cried like a bitch, highly recommend. Probably one of my 👏 favorite👏 fics of all time)

Ditches : Rated M, 2.4k words, 2 chapters, Drama/Family, Incomplete Prequel to Gutters. In the days leading up to The Calamity, the world braces and families struggle not to be torn apart.

Breathe Me : Rated T, 66k words, 21 chapters, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Complete "God I'm so fat." "No, Alfred. You're not. You're –" "Stop it! I am and you know it! The whole world knows! Just stop okay?" Trigger Warning, Human AU, and F.A.C.E. Family. (note: very important TRIGGER WARNING due to mention of eating disorders, verbal abuse, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts.)

9 notes · View notes