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smallcowplant · 4 years

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[ P A R T T W O ]

my favorite thing is monsters (book one) by emil ferris 🧟‍♀️🔍🧛‍♀️

quick synopsis: adult (coming-of-age story from the perspective of a young girl, but definitely targeted at an older audience)/graphic novel. set in late 60′s chicago, the fictional graphic diary of ten year old karen reyes recounts her experiences as she tries to solve the murder of her beautiful and enigmatic upstairs neighbor, a holocaust survivor.

page count: 416

rating:★★★ (this is a hard rating for me...think 3.7-3.9....oscillating to a 4....4.2....I don’t know, man)

review: I keep doing this fun and cool thing where I buy a book without realizing it’s the first in an (unfinished) series, and then end up being cast woefully adrift by reality. that’s what I did with this one. purely based on the artwork alone, I can tell you that this book is a treat for the eyes. a lot is going on here, and there’s something so engrossing about being swept up into the chaotic pen strokes and colors. the story is an interesting one, and not entirely what you expect. the characters are all distinct and layered---really riveting people who feel near-painfully real. as the first book in a two (?) book series, it leaves off with the central (and now additional) mysteries unsolved---which leaves the reading experience feeling unfinished and kind of disjointed. I’m stuck in a bit of a confusing mid-zone with this one, where I truly....well, I can't say I enjoyed it, since this story is so much more than that? I was...fascinated? enveloped? I’ll be reading the next one, definitely.

one of us is lying by karen m. mcmanus 🥜🚓📱

quick synopsis: young adult/contemporary mystery/suspense. five students walk into detention. only four make it out alive. who did it...and who is lying?

page count: 361

rating:★★★ (firm 3.7)

review: the breakfast club....but with murder? if you’re down for that, you’ll enjoy this book! it certainly kept my attention. and MAN was this a suspenseful and super stressful read. (if you need a book that’ll make you go “wow, I’m glad I’m not in high school anymore”, this is it lol!) there’s a bunch of really interesting character studies going on in this one, and it definitely lends to a tense and involving read. the only reason the rating isn’t any higher is just that certain elements of it didn’t work...entirely...for me. that doesn’t mean that they were bad...just not what I...wanted? there’s two more books in this series, and while I’m not anxious to get my hands on them, I’m fairly sure I would read them!

murder at morrington hall: a stella and lyndy mystery by clara mckenna 🐎🍵💏

quick synopsis: adult/historical mystery. 1905. stella kendrick, a lively and confident american heiress, is tricked into an arranged marriage by her coldly ambitious father. her groom-to-be is viscount “lyndy” lyndhurst, who is both roughish and financially strapped. despite this rough beginning, they find themselves oddly drawn to each other. could they actually be a good match? however, all courtship is set aside when the pair discover the vicar who was to marry them----dead in the library. now they must work together to solve the crime and find the culprit.

page count: 304

rating: ★★

review: ugh, it pains me to say, as I thought I was signing myself up for a fun turn-of-the-century murder mystery/romance...but this was just...meh. a meh story. I feel like it had potential to be an enjoyable, soapy romp with a dash of sensuality...but it was none of those things? (basically, I wanted a self-indulgent and delicious slice of chocolate cake...but I ended up with a week-old raisin muffin.) it didn't help that I had some issues with certain things the writer included. in particular, I REALLY didn’t like the equating of fat = mean/ugly and the repeated use of the word “bulbous” to describe certain characters noses----I had to do a quick google search to see what the hell the author was talking about. still not sure if she was trying to imply that the characters had rhinophyma/rosacea or just that they had bigger, “ugly” noses, but neither is good lmao. whenever you put a “plain/regular-degular person” with a big nose up against your array of stock White People™ characters with thin noses and angular faces, AND make those “plain” characters play the “wow, I’m so ugly but these characters are so pretty oh woe is me” bullshit in their inner monologue, I’m dipping. I’ve collected my paycheck, clocked out, left the building. (your story is already about a bunch of rich, straight, white people in 1905...I’m already skeptical, don’t test me. jk, but also not.) I’m fairly sure this would have caused a decent amount of people to DNF this book, but I’m a stubborn little bitch, and if I paid actual money for the hardcover copy at goddamn Barnes and Noble, I’m reading it. this is all to say that....if I’m being thrown out of enjoying your soapy historical murder mystery to gripe about random shit, there’s a problem. other than that? carpet was described a lot, the twist was decent, the romance was okay (no smut---or anything even vaguely close to romantic/sexual tension---and the kisses were not described at all, so I have no clue if either of them do more than press their lips together while admiring each others pale necks, but whatever), and the setting was the most interesting thing about this book (a crumbling english estate in the countryside?? sign me tf up). I won’t be reading anything more in this series, but that cover is pretty cool isn’t it? (I don’t know that the vase had anything to do with the story I read, but it does look really neat.) sidenote: hate to be a smarmy asshole, as I know full well how much work goes into writing, and I’m in no way trying to shame the author...this book just didn’t do it for me.

wilder girls by rory power 🌳🦷🥀

quick synopsis: young adult/horror/mystery. on an isolated island off the coast of maine, raxter school for girls is under quarantine. a mysterious disease has wracked the island, leaving teachers dead, students twisted and changed, and the woods that surround it dangerous and wild. while the disease consumes the island, the girls wait---for help, for the cure that was promised to them. but when hetty’s best friend disappears, she must venture out of the safety of the school, past the gate that separates them from the woods---and what she finds will change everything.

page count: 363

rating: ★★★★★

review: powerful, blistering, and utterly terrifying. that’s what immediately comes to mind when thinking about this book. I read it in a breakneck pace, devouring the whole thing in a feverish five? hour haze. once it was over, I sat bleary-eyed, the air around me feeling different than before, my hands tense and my stomach jumping. “you were a good one.” I said softly, kissing the spine. so yeah, it’s good. it’s very good. heartbreaking and awful and shockingly beautiful. this one hurts. I felt this one in my bones, in my soul. read it.

lovely war by julie berry 🌷💥💞

quick synopsis: young adult (but the youngest character is 18...so I think this could comfortably slot into adult)/historical (with a touch of fantasy). the intersecting stories of hazel, james, aubrey, and colette: a classical pianist from london, a british would-be-architect-turned-soldier, a harlem-born ragtime genius in the u.s. army, and a belgian orphan with a gorgeous voice and a devastating past----told by the goddess aphrodite, who must spin the tale or face judgment on mount olympus.

page count: 468

rating: ★★★★★

review: do you know how many times I CRIED while reading this book? because I certainly don’t! I lost track, as there are simply too many painful and beautiful things contained in this book. heart-wrenching, sumptuous and intoxicating, vivid in the best and worst ways, sharp and soft at the same time. I met my boyfriend while he was still active-duty military, so the wartime/seperation themes hit me very personally....but even without that, this book is excellent. expertly weaving together mythology and history in one gripping piece of art, it left me with a wistful smile on my face and a faint ache in my heart. it’s good. very good.

we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson 🏡💀🐱

quick synopsis: young adult? adult? who knows!/mystery/horror. mary katherine blackwood is eighteen years old and lives with her sister constance. she has often thought that with any luck at all she would have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both of her hands are the same length, but she has had to be content with what she has. she dislikes washing herself, and dogs, and noise. she likes her sister constance, and richard plantagenet, and amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. everyone else in her family is dead.

page count: 146

rating: ★★★★ (4.5/4.6!)

review: delightfully creepy and utterly odd, with a full cast of extremely unlikable characters and one of the strangest protagonists I’ve ever read. at NO TIME did I have any idea where the story was going, which lead to an completely bizarre (but fun!) reading experience. twilight-zonian/gothic...but better. very eager to read more of shirley jackson’s catalogue, because that lady sure knew how to weave a tale. very glad I read this one.

sadie by courtney summers 📻👥🎙

quick synopsis: young adult (mc is nineteen, and imo I feel like this slides into adult tbh)/contemporary/true crime. told from the alternating perspectives of nineteen-year-old sadie, who runs away from home to find her younger sister’s killer, and a true crime podcast exploring sadie’s disappearance.

page count: 308

rating: ★★★

review: sad, awful, raw. that’s this book, simultaneously bright red and angry and deep blue, sadness upon sadness. this book reminds me of every true crime documentary I’ve ever watched---how it wraps itself up in a depressingly soft way, all the emptiness left behind and everything forever-changed. gives me the same icky voyeuristic feeling consuming any true crime content always leaves with me---this peculiar feeling of peering in to others heartbreak, of their horrors. this is a hard book. it’s difficult and not easy to stomach---and it never lets up. know that before you go in. what you may expect/want is NOT what you’ll get. and that’s the trueness of this book. I have my own personal feelings regarding the story, thus the three star rating, but that’s on ME. this book is incredibly well-written and insanely gripping. I finished it the same night I started reading it. if you want a gritty, intense read set in the very bleak reality of our world, this is your book.

FEBRUARY

BOOKS READ: 14

PAGES READ: 4225

# OF 2020 BOOKS READ SO FAR: 17/50

in reflection: my goal for this month was to read ten books, and I did that ...plus four more! so I’m pretty proud of myself, lol! there were a lot of stellar reads this month, and I had so much fun discovering them all! definitely a TON of new favorites to add to my bookshelf! :^)

disclaimer: all fourteen of the books I read this month include/focus on potentially triggering content, although they do fluctuate on the scale of intensity and subject matter. my wrap-up reviews do not contain spoilers/a comprehensive list of potential triggers. I urge everyone to do their own research regarding the content of these books if you’re interested in reading them, and I’m always available for questions. my reviews are just that, reviews, and books that work for me may not work for you (and vice versa).

#sam's 50 books of 2020 #nonsims #sam speaks #body horror cw #for wilder girls cover #and for wilder girls in general lol

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astroluve · 5 years

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The rising signs

Energy, aura, my interpretation.

Aries rising 🐑

Energy: vibrant, pulsing, bouncing, energetic, vivid, animated, spirited, lively, vigorous, electrifying

Common aura colors: red and orange with mixes of yellow. That usually means they are very passionate, they are friendly and caring. Concerned with the next move and rolling with the punches.

Interpretation: from the Aries risings I have met they’ve always been goofy as hell. Just someone you can joke around with and have a fun time and not be so serious all the time. The type to just run away randomly and come back with a new person.

Taurus rising 🐃

Energy: calm, peaceful, harmonious, serene, tranquil, soothing, hushed, still, placid, bucolic, slow, cool.

Common aura colors: orange, pink, and green are common in Taurus risings. They can be healing and deliberate. They feel connected to animals and nature which is healing for them. They can be very caring and concerned even when their logically thinking.

Interpretation: the Taurus rising i have met all are unhealthily obsessed with food. The kind to pull a stash of food from out under their bed and listen to people’s troubles. Funny and calm, just people who want to do what they want but can also be a follower.

Gemini rising 🧚🏻‍♀️

Energy: fast, nimble, accelerated, electric, rapid, agile, swift, rushed, active, flashing, dashing, brisk, fleeting

Common aura colors: green, yellow, orange. Theses colors are prominent especially yellow for that’s a logical aura color usually. Gemini risings can analyze usually but also be person who can listen to every detail to someone story and give concerned advice.

Interpretation: the Gemini rising I have met always seem nervous, or anxious when it came to grades. They are all smiles when relaxed and mischievous with their words. They are witty or sarcastic usually and like to play around.

Cancer rising 🦀

Energy: comforting, alleviating, consoling, refreshing, encouraging, solace, invigorating, relieving, abating, soothing, warming.

Common aura colors: pink, orange, purple and white. Cancer risings can be pink and and creative. There is a lot of love and then they are also visionaries and can see others pain as if they were the people themselves. Of course they are protective of themselves too.

Interpretation: soft, open when you get to know them. Talks to you about probably their romance troubles and will love to start watching some series on YouTube with you. Soft spoken voice and gentle eyes that are open to the soul.

Leo rising 🦁

Energy: hectic, boisterous, frenetic, exciting, chaotic, burning, restless, fervid, fevered, heated, frenzied, magnetic, sizzling

Common aura colors: yellow, red, orange. Very heartwarming, caring and playful. They are full of scalding energy and need for creativity but also very lethargic and planned out for everything. Laidback yet determined, it depends on what aspect of life it’s about.

Interpretation: funny, playful, laidback. Leo risings always are the ones to help you out but also burn the hell out of you with joking jabs. Can throw a tea party and will spill the tea because they need that, even men. Just very talkative but not to the point it’s overwhelming.

Virgo rising 🦉

Energy: methodical, careful, deliberate, disciplined, meticulous, efficient, precise, orderly, scrupulous, structured.

Common aura colors: yellow, orange and blue. Intuitive, they trust their gut and can see through people easily. They have an analytical approach to most situations and people, they do what they want and they they want it because they know it’s the best way.

Interpretation: the Virgo risings i have met are usually anxious, they have nervous habits like picking at the side of their fingers. They can have anxiety and are reserved. Total weirdos but cool, just very surprisingly understanding but blunt.

Libra rising 🍃

Energy: chill, casual, incurious, cool, detached, indifferent, restful, harmonious, slow, gentle, low-key

Common aura colors: pink and yellows with whites. Very loving and understanding, wanting to spread positivity and can get passive aggressive if there’s yelling and dramatics involved. Can think logically from both point of views and consider what’s said and done.

Interpretation: goofy, is hard to actually crack up but once you get to know them they get more loose with you and join in on the fun. Loves beauty and the ones I have met are usually obsessed with hot men/women. Just wants to live in the moment and do what they want.

Scorpio rising 🦂

Energy: magnetic, hypnotic, alluring, arresting, irresistible, charming, mesmerizing, pulling, tranquil, intense

Common aura colors: red, blue, purple. They feel and see everyone’s emotions as if they are their own colors. They have a lot of passion that is very emotional but will often have an analytical point of view. Intense and sarcastic, has a lot of intuition.

Interpretation: the Scorpio risings i have met seem to be different yet alike. Always possessive in a caring way, usually funny and upfront and honest. Open but not open and there is always a cloud of mystery around them.

Sagittarius rising 🐒

Energy: joyous, flamboyant, relaxed, sarcastic, jumpy, fast, vibrant, vast, understanding, silliness

Common aura colors: green and yellow. I just see them as their significant colors. They think usually logically but always question what is true and isn’t true. Willing to experience and express themselves in many different ways and their thoughts are like flavors from many different cultures.

Interpretation: loud, loving and fun! They are like exciting puppies, that just run around giving joy to every person that lays eyes on them. So willing and down for most things but will tell you how it is and is able to easily move on from people and things.

Capricorn rising 🐐

Energy: passive, dull, weird, wild, abstracted, neutral, laidback, slothful, unconcerned, focused, bystander

Common aura colors: orange, red, green and purple. They are a wild mixture, there’s passion and determination but there is also relaxed patience and understanding. Usually not too emotional and more analytical. Focused and caring but it’s all very toned down.

Interpretation: hard at first and is either younger than they look or older than they look, no in between. Reminds me of sunflowers! Very loving and silly in their own way but will probably stand in the back for the most part and let others take reign.

Aquarius rising 🐺

Energy: eccentric, bizarre, erratic, curious, friendly, peculiar, funny, quirky, odd, offbeat, weird, outlandish

Common aura colors: blue, purple, green and yellow. Friendly, giving and weird. They have a cutting intuition and curiosity. Very willing and able to see through others eyes but chooses to not follow the normal way of life. Thinks logically, but easily can pick through others and their emotions.

Interpretation: weird as hell, very silly and goofy. They are the mediator of groups, talking and supporting the friends in need all the while finding time for their own problems and hobbies. Has many talents and is always thinking the craziest things.

Pisces rising 🐠

Energy: mystical, cryptic, magical, esoteric, elastic, flexible, dreamy, unconventional, confusing, soothing, delicate, easy, cozy

Common aura colors: purple, white, blue and pastels. They are usually very intuitive, empathic and can pick up on everyone they talk to or surround themselves with. They just have a high grasp of an outlook on everything that doesn’t match anyone else. Real daydreamers, and enjoys soft love.

Interpretation: quiet but can be talkative. Closed off, in the sense they don’t like talking about themselves and would rather hear what others talk about themselves. Very dreamy and whimsical, just focused on imagination rather than actuality.

#astrology #astrology signs #zodiac #aries #taurus #cancer #gemini #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #risings

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vegetacide · 5 years

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Whump●tober - Embracing Recovery

Veg-notables: Well it was a month in coming but i have finally drawn this whole thing to a close. It’s been quite the trip and the learning experience to boot. Somehow it all wrapped up in a nice tidy package encompassing several story lines into one world completely by accident by there you have it. Something just happen that way.

Many thanks to all those that jumped on this month long whump ride with me and many, many thanks to @gumnut-logic for putting up with me none stop pretty much for the whole duration. Your guidance and support has been very, very much appreciated.. And the mountain loads of candied ammo that was lobbed in my direction. I think I might have a cavity now…

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning: Revelations, hurt, comfort and a resolution of sorts.

Characters: Virgil, Scott, with a dash of Kayo, Gordon and Alan. V/K

Whumptober - TaG’verse

Part 1 Unconscious | Part 2 Shaky Hands | Part 3 Stitches | Part 4 “Don’t move”

30. Recovery & 31. Embrace

Enjoy…

oOo

The moment Virgil stepped foot into the lounge he could feel Scott’s eyes on him and he resisted the urge to roll his own.

“I’m fine, Scott.” He said on reflex as he crossed the space on his way to the stairs. He needed coffee stat and nothing was going to distract him from his goal.

Scott came around the desk, eyes narrowing on Virgil’s face as he headed towards him.

Virgil was well aware of what he looked like and how he felt, thank you very much. He was fresh from a shower, clean shaven and feeling for the first time in a while, well rested. The fact he required coffee to function on any given morning was nothing new and something that decidedly didn’t warranted the frown that was brewing on his brother’s face.

“You’re squinting.”

Now he did roll his eyes and he didn’t care if Scott saw it or not. Turning he trotted down the stairs, Scott hot on his heels.

“Scott, I’m okay. Stop worrying.” Virgil b-lined it for the coffee pot, one though in mind. Most obtain caffeine…

His brother’s hand landed on his shoulder, preventing him from reaching his target just feet from his destination.

“This is really getting a bit much, Scott.” He grumbled and cursed at himself internally for not taking the elevator all the way down the kitchen. Why oh why had he thought that stopping at the lounge on the way was a good idea? Hind sight and all that jazz was bullshit.

“Are you sure?” His brother’s voice sounded worried.

“Yes, it’s just the usual aftermath. Nothing new there, I am always a bit light sensitive for a few days after a migraine, you know this.” Virgil slipped out from under his brother’s grasp, stepped past him and snagged his favourite mug out of the cupboard.

“Any double vision? Blurriness?” Came the expected rapid fire questions as he stalked after him to the coffee pot.

Virgil sighed and didn’t answer right away and concentrated on pouring the aromatic brew. Let his brother stew for a moment, served him right for the mother hen and interrogation routine.

After their lovely discussion the previous morning, Virgil had retreated to his room again, only venturing out around sunset in order to obtain some much needed sustenance and to watch Kayo do her ninja thing on the pool deck.

Thankfully he’d managed to avoid Scott as he had been called away from the island and he’d only had to deal with his very perceptive Grandmother.

That had been an interesting exchange and not one he wished to repeat any time soon. He needed time to wrap his head around things, sort out his emotions and if that meant doing everything in his power to be on the opposite side of the island from everyone else.. So be it.

Except there was his very real need for coffee and due to that vice he had risked the trip down from his room. It was apparently evident that Lady Luck was so not in his corner this fine morning.

Satisfied that his cup had reached its maximum capacity, he lifted it to his lips and took his first sip of the day.

Scolding, hot and deliciously rich, the flavour flowed over his taste buds and sung the song of the caffeine addicted. A thrum of ecstasy fired up his neurons and the pleasure centre of his brain lit up like a Christmas tree. Oh sweet Baby Jeebus, he bit back on the joyful moan as his need was finally sated.

Then his brother’s tapping foot finally registered.

Drawing in a breathe to anchor is growing antipathy, he finally graced his overly anxious sibling with an answer. “No double vision or blurriness. Like I said, I’m fine. Let it go, Scott.”

His brother’s arms crossed over his chest, eyes still inspecting. Searching for any sign of deceit in his answer.

The trust they shared had been rocked and Virgil was well aware that this was the price of his actions. Something he was going to have to learn to deal with but right now… there was coffee..

Sipping away quietly for a few minutes, he let his brother continue staring at him, assessing the minutia of his movements and facial expression with a bored air of one well used to an over protective big brother filling in the very large shoes of their Father.

His patience lasted a lot longer than he thought it would.

“You look tired still, you get enough sleep? “

That did it, patience quota reached. Completely maxed out.

“Jesus… Scott. Stop it. I’m fine.” Putting his mug down with a little more force than he intended he marked off points on his fingers. “I have slept, done pretty much nothing but since I crashed out in Two. I have eaten enough food to satiate a small army. I am more hydrated than even the Fish right now and that is saying something considering he basically lives in the pool. There is no pain and my vision is fine. “

His brother looked like he was about to say something but Virgil put up a hand to stop him.

“No.” He sighed, hands on his hips as his head dropped down. Closing his eyes, he counted to ten to reign in his ire.

“Look, Scott…” He started, stalled out. Gave his doubt the middle finger and plowed on. “Globalmax was over a year ago and you can stop hovering now, I’m not going to break. Sure I get the odd migraine but that’s it. Pack it in, let it go

Scott’s face shifted, darkened. Eyes narrowed, he poked a finger into Virgil’s face. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“What…?” Confused all to hell at the change in his brother, Virgil’s brow furrowed.

“Kind of the pot calling the kettle black isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Bullshit,” Scott’s temper flared and it had Virgil adjusting his stance to square off against the gale force that had surged into the kitchen. “You telling me to let it go when you can’t do the same. You act like I haven’t clued into what you’ve been doing the last few weeks ever since I put Gordon back on active duty.”

Virgil’s face blanched, his defenses suddenly evaporating in the face of Scott’s accusation and he stood dumbfounded.

“I…”

“You what?” Scott stepped up to him, all righteous anger and indignation but Virgil didn’t know how to respond. Caught off guard by his brother’s fury and being found out so easily, words completely abandoned him.

Scott seemed to catch himself and forced himself to step off, to back up. Temper radiated out of him in waves but he clamped his control down hard on it and closed off as he reeled himself in.

“Ya, just like I thought. You can preach to me about letting things go but I sent you in to that plant. I was the one that put you in harm’s way and we came damn close to losing you. Almost did had it not been for a fleet of stubborn ass doctors set on keeping your heart going.”

His voice hitched at the end and he had to put some physical distance between them, long legs taking him across the kitchen around the table and back again.

He paced a few more steps and stopped, the counter between them. “Just like you did sending Gordon in after Braman at the Calypso crash site.

The words hung like a stinking carcass in the air and Virgil’s chest heaved, breathing in the hot, foul stench of it.

Pulse kicking he tried to come up with excuses, tried to think around what Scott had tossed to callously in front of him but he couldn’t see a way around it. There was no avoiding it when it was strung up with flashing lights right in front of your face like some damn garish marquee sign at a theatre.

“You..you don’t understand.”

"Try it, make me understand.” Scott’s voice grew soft though his posture still screamed unrestrained agitation.

Virgil drew in a breath, thought a moment, blew back out again as his mind tossed out and rejected several responses. Finally he settled on one. “He’s my co-pilot.” As if that should be answer enough.

Like those three words could explain the whole of it. That Gordon was more than a passenger along for a ride in Two. He was his partner on missions, his back up when he was unable to take the controls himself, his goofy baby brother, his responsibility…

Virgil had been well aware of the dangers out here, all those feet below the ocean surface under all that atmospheric pressure of millions and millions of gallons of water but he’d still let him go. Even with the nagging feeling in the back of his head that something didn’t feel right but they were International Rescue so they did what their Father’s legacy dictated.

Even if just for a machine, an automaton that had been broadcasting on all their frequencies for hours on end. He let his baby brother go, and he’d nearly ended up dead.

Left to die at the bottom of the ocean, crushed beneath a mountain of a crumbled volcanic stack like his life meant nothing. Like he was just an irritant that needed to be swatted away and was done so carelessly and with such disregard for everything their family stood for. Everything they had spent the better part of their adult lives striving to achieve.

Hovering above the ocean waiting for some news, seeing the broken body sprawled unmoving across a med-bay gurney had torn a hole through Virgil that he hadn’t been able to fill in all the time since. An aching pit of guilt and despair that he had thought he could handle, hide away in some dark corner of his mind.

It had only grown and festered, like an untreated wound. Kept him up at night with visions of alternate outcomes. Of vaguely remember funerals, caskets draped in white flowers and the somber words.

Kayo had clicked into the fact that something was wrong months ago maybe Scott had too. The concerned etched on his face now mirrored her own every time he looked at her but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to burden them with this. So to throw Kayo off the trail he’d tossed something else at her feet. Hoping that it would be enough to waylay her.

The message from Bramen about their Father being alive. He hadn’t lied to her about his feelings but he hadn’t supplied her with the whole of it. The omission hadn’t been easy and the guilt of that had compounded all the rest, but he had stood firm in visage even though he was crumbling just like that stack on the inside.

As for Scott, he’d just closed himself off. Withdrawn and buried himself in work and good intentions

The stim-tabs had come in handy and as he looked down at his trembling hand he knew, he’d gone way too far with it. All Scott had to do was look back through all of Two’s records to see how far he’d fallen.

Scott had a right to be concerned and Kayo had a right to her tears.

Clenching his fist, he forced himself to answer no matter how painful it was. “He should never have been down there on his own. I should have gone with him.”

“So you could do what exactly?” Scott moved, settled on a stool at the counter, in for the long haul if that was what it was going to take. “Gordon knows what he’s doing better than any of us. He was WASP. He has more qualification for underwater rescue than all of us combined. He is always aware of the dangers every time he heads out there but he accepts it.

Scoot looked to the counter, his fingers playing through the cooling puddle of coffee left there by Virgil’s careless handling. “You can’t stop him from going out there, Virg... “ His words stopped short as the sounds of voices and stomping feet came thundering down the stairs.

Inane chatter about some video game or another bounced around the lofty ceiling and abruptly came to a halt when the aquanaut in question came up short at the end of the flight, Alan nearly running into the back of him.

“The fuck, Gordon? Why’d you sto….?” Alan’s inquiry drifted off as he took in the open air kitchen and instantly picked up on the heaviness that clogged the space.

“What’s up?” Gordon asked as two pair of serious eyes turned his way. One carrying more worry and guilt then it appeared Gordon cared for and the other, frustration at whatever was going on being interrupted. His own gaze darted back and forth between his older siblings with some trepidation. “Who died?”

Virgil turned away, walked over to the large, open patio and leaned his bulk against the thick clear blast door where it nested by its stationary counterpart.

Scott sighed, and Virgil pictured him standing with his hands braced on his hips and his head shaking back and forth is annoyance"Gordon.."

"What?"He asked completely oblivious to what his words had invoked.

Virgil listened to the exchange behind him with only half an ear and watched the play of light across the rippling water of the pool.

Gordon's oblivion question had been more poignant they he knew his brother had meant. It had struck the chord of the conversation and the image of his still, unresponsive body in Two echoed through his mind with a clarity that made Virgil shudder.

It was early in the day still so the oppressive heat this time of year usually drummed up hadn't yet settled over the island yet.

There was a breeze whispering through the fronds of the palms and rustling the long strands of ornamental grasses that boarded the patio in quaint little arrangements that Virgil knew his Father had installed as homage to the woman who so loved to garden when they were little.

The cadence of the conversation behind changed and his pushed his focus back inside to the room as Gordon's voice rose.

"Oh well..it looks like the adults are talking so we better run off and play like good little boys."

"Gordon,. That's not what I meant.".

"Than what did you mean?" He demanded facing off with Scott glare for glare.

When Scott failed to answer, the currently land bound human-fish bristled and turned his sights on Virgil.

Virgil’s mouth gaped a moment as he floundered but he didn't get a chance to respond as Kayo appeared at his elbow, her hand resting a moment on the base of his spine in a gesture of support before she slipped around him and over to Gordon.

Her voice was pitched in such a way that they could all hear her words. "I just got word that Lady P in inbound. Should be here soon."

Gordon’s attention was instantaneously redirected. “Penny’s coming here?”

Kay nodded, “About ten minutes out. Sad something about a reef project she is working on.”

“Ya, she mentioned that to me last week. I didn’t think they would move so fast on it..”

The distraction work and in short order Gordon was back up the stairs and out of the room.

Alan remained behind, gaze ping ponging between all those gathered in the familiar space. A little lost as to what to do and where to go now that Gordon was off chasing after her Ladyship. “Sooooooo…?” He ventured.

Kayo took pity on him, grabbed a bag of oatmeal cookies from the pantry and gave the pair of them a look, her eyes lingering on Virgil as she turned and walked back over to Alan. “Hey, why don’t you show me that new Zombie game you’ve been going on about?”

Alan blinked, shifted awkwardly on his feet as he absorbed the rising tension in the room again and was unsure what to do about it. It was obvious from his pinched expression that he was well aware that things were far from alright between his two biggest brothers.

“Everything okay?” He asked instead as Kayo came up to him.

She glanced back at Virgil as if she was interested in the answer to the question as well.

Virgil’s large chest expanded on an inhalation before he took the reins. “It’s cool, Alan. Don’t worry about it.”

Alan didn’t look convinced and neither did Kayo but she nodded in return.

There would be words later, Virgil knew but for now she would back off and leave them to sort themselves out.

“If you say so…” And the pair of them disappeared up the stairs.

The kitchen grew quiet with their absence, the only sound that of the wind through the palms and a few wild birds that called the island home.

“Listen,” Scott was the first to break the stillness and Virgil peered back over his shoulder so Scott knew he was doing just that. “All I am saying is that I understand where you are coming from. I’ve been there. Am there, every day. Every time a call comes in and I have to send one of you out there to do the impossible because it seems like no one else can, I’m right there where you are now. I have to live with that. Remind myself that not only did I pick this life but you all did too. You know the risks, just trust that they know the risks too and remember that you are not alone.

He came up to Virgil bumped his shoulder against his companionably. “And if things ever get too hard, too much there are those on this island that are more than willing to help and if not here,” His head inclined towards the ocean, towards the world at large, “There are plenty of people out there that owe us a few things and would jump at the chance to return the favour.“

Virgil absorbed what was being offered and finally for the first time in days, months really the weight on his shoulders lifted.

He chuckled slightly as a thought came to mind and just like that the tension was gone, the animosity and outrage and all the negative crap that went along with it up and left.

“What?” Scott asked a quizzical look popping his brow up in confusion,

“How in the hell do you put up with all of this? All of us?”

Scott grinned back, the devil in his smile. “Dad’s private stash of Scotch… lots of Scotch.”

The sun was shifting outside as it made its way across the sky and a spear of light bounced off the pool which made Virgil blink, that fact that nothing speared into his brain with the flash of light didn’t go unnoticed by him. Time took care of all things and it seemed the worst of everything had come to pass.

The band-aid holding everything back had been torn off, the wound free to breathe and hopefully to heal now that all those party to it existence had lanced it of the festering poison that was rotting away at its core.

The disinfectant that family supplied, was to be applied liberally and eventually all that would be left was a fading scar and life would go on.

His smile widened and grew broader as the future finally started to look brighter and he slung an arm over Scott’s shoulder, pulling him in for an unexpected hug which his brother reciprocated wholeheartedly.

“It might be early but somewhere in the world it’s not. Let’s go find that scotch.”

oOo

The End.

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

#whumptober2019 #whumptober #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds fanfic #no.30 #no.31 #Recovery #Embrace #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Kayo Kyrano #Gordon Tracy #Alan Tracy #virgil/kayo #the end is here #on to #fluffember

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the-everlasting-dream · 5 years

Text

The Way To Love Me (Part 2/2) - Drake

A/N: Once again, stemming from @ooo-barff-ooo and my extensive conversations about love languages, here is Drake’s version at long last. Tru be gentle, it was very late when I got to writing this.

Elizabeth’s Part

Word Count: 3800+

Warnings: Swearing

Permatags: @chantelle-x0x , @choicessa, @meeraaverywalker , @drakewalkerwhipped , @thewolvesss , @mfackenthal , @srawesleyghuewrites , @topsyturvy-dream , @enmchoices , @gardeningourmet @debramcg1106 , @alesana45 , @meladoridarcy, @blackcatkita , @tmarie82 , @annekebbphotography , @lizk77 , @jayjay879 , @tornbetween2loves , @akrenich , @theroyalweisme , @likethetailofacomet , @sleepwalkingelite , @littleblossom-18 , @ooo-barff-ooo , @drakewalker04 , @mkatschoicesblog , TRR only: @speedyoperarascalparty , @carabeth ,

Drake: @fairydustandsarcasm , @drakewalkerisreal

The sound of an alarm on a Saturday morning would always be the single most annoying sound a person could ever hear, Drake Walker concluded as he groggily reached for the tiny clock on the nightstand, jabbing the off button roughly before collapsing back onto the bed. He took a contented deep breath now that the annoyance had been apprehended and rolled onto his other side.

His hand snaked onto the other side of the bed, searching for his wife of five months, knowing how much she loved to sleep in. Usually he’d be the one gently shaking her awake, reminding her not to be late, cajoling her and using every method at his disposal to make sure she woke up and stayed up but not today. Today, for once he could join her instead of being called away by their many priorities and way too many easy starts, he seemed out her warmth, ready to pull her in close to his chest like he knew she loved being held and they would slowly wake up together maybe eve- His fingers brushed on empty air and his eyes slid open to find Elizabeth’s side of the bed bare, covers ripped back, sheets cold in her absence. Drake sat up in confusion, rubbing his sleepy eyes as he scanned the rest of the room.

‘Walker?’

There was no response so he called again.

‘Walker? Elizabeth?’

He frowned. It was highly unlike her to be up and out of the room before him and just for good measure he went to check the ensuite they shared, in case she might be in there but nope. There was no sign of her.

‘Huh,’ Drake thought to himself, running a hand through his messy hair, feeling a little odd at her absence as he shuffled back to grab his phone from the bedside table, checking to see if she’d left a message but the last message in their chat was him asking what time she’d be home the night before. Frowning he pushed the call button and held the phone to his ear as it began to dial. The phone kept ringing and ringing and just as Drake was getting suspicious, Elizabeth picked up.

‘… yep, those are the one’s I mean. Put them on my desk and I’ll go through them,’ he heard her voice, obviously preoccupied with something else before she turned her attention to him. ‘Hello?’

‘Walker, where are you?’ He questioned, unable to fathom where she could be at this hour of — he glanced at the clock — barely 8am.

‘I’m at the palace, Drake,’ she replied, sounding far away. ‘I told you last night, I needed to get in early today to reorganise the plans for the charity ball.’

‘On a Sunday?’

Elizabeth chuckled slightly,’You said the exact same thing last night. Do you need something? I thought you’d want to sleep in on your day off?’

He was about to answer when he heard her talking to someone else again. ‘Liz?’

‘Yeah, sorry I’m here. What were you saying?’

‘You asked why I wasn’t sleeping in,’ Drake reminded her lamely.

‘Hmm?’

He sighed, feeling like she was barely even paying attention to him as he could hear things being shuffled around on her side of the phone. ‘Forget about it. What time will you be back? I thought we could take a ride down to the lake today.’

‘Sounds great babe. I’ll try get off early and we can hang out,’ she answered him vaguely. ‘I’ll text you. I gotta go. Love you.’

Drake barely had a chance to reply before she clicked off the call and he was left alone in the empty bedroom. He sighed, running a hand over his face. Elizabeth was a passionate woman, especially when it came to education. Drake knew it held a very special place in her mind that Cordonian children could have full and equal access to education and be able to pursue the careers they wanted, a sentiment stemming from her own experience with her father and the four years of medical school she’d suffered through at his behest. Drake couldn’t be prouder at the changes his wife was already installing her short time as duchess, she’d found her niche, something she was good at that would make a real difference in the lives of every day people — the real reason she said yes to being a duchess in the first place.

But that passion often found her so caught up in her work with that intense razor sharp focus, she often forgot about everything else when she was stuck into a task. He knew he shouldn’t complain, she was doing a good thing but ever since she’d started on this particular initiative, Elizabeth barely seemed to have time for them. Fuelled with inspiration, she’d start earlier at the palace like today and be back late. In the few times, they managed to have a meal together, she always seemed to be preoccupied, never paying him her full attention, physically present but mentally she was worlds away.

Its fine, he told himself. She promised she’d be back early today.

Drake decided to use the rest of the time until his wife got home attending to the tiny jobs around their estate in Atlantea, Working with his hands always made him feel better, there was something so pleasantly grounding to see the fruits of his labour. He’d just fixed up the last of a broken fence on the border of their land when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He wiped his hands on his jeans, expecting it to be a text from Elizabeth saying she was back but one glance was enough to dash his hopes.

Caught up at work. Will be back late. I’ll make it up to you. Promise xx

He sighed in dejection, dropping down onto a nearby stump, emotions warring in him. He knew he shouldn’t complain. Elizabeth wouldn’t just blow him off if it wasn’t something really important right? He chased the doubt from his mind, recalling the promise they’d made together on their honeymoon to always put each other first, no matter what. They didn’t have to do anything fancy or extravagant, just being with her was enough for him. Riding down to the river, curled up on the couch watching a movie, hell he’d even take a mushy talk about feelings and stuff. But how could he do that if she was never around. He knew the duchess life was demanding, he knew that they’d both have to make sacrifices sometimes but surely…

Drake shook his head again. He was never good with words but he resolved to bring this up with Elizabeth the next time they were together because it was killing him to be apart from her and in the time that they did have together, he felt like she wasn’t even fully with him. All he could do was wait..

Hours later, after the sun had long set, Drake finally heard the key turn in the front door. Gulping down the last of his whiskey, he made his way to the foyer to find Elizabeth just getting in after a long day. The smile on her face, though tired, was enough to smooth over his ruffled feathers and in an instant her lips were on his.

‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured between kisses, her body moulding to his immediately. ‘Things ran late and-‘

‘Its fine, you’re here now,’ He whispered back, just happy to have her with him again.

Elizabeth pulled back to grin mischievously at him, hands sliding down his torso provocatively. ‘I believe I promised to make it up to you.’

‘Liz you don’t-‘

She placed a manicured finger over his lips, the heated look in her eyes spreading to his. ‘Shhh baby. No talking, I’m gonna make you feel so good.’

After they were finished, Drake lay back on the pillows with Elizabeth tucked tightly against his chest. The sex had been fantastic as usual and while he was physically sated, his emotions were still lacking the same attention. It had been a habit of theirs lately to pillow talk just before bed, where they’d just lay there in each other’s arms and talk about everything and nothing. Elizabeth was a great listener, often knowing what he meant even before he did, filling in the gaps where needed and providing her advice when he asked for it. In exchange he loved to hear about her day and the many things she was doing and together they’d make a game plan of sorts for the next day. Ready to do that now, he ran a tender hand across her back.

‘Liz?’

‘Mmhmm,’ she hummed sleepily.

‘How was your day?’

‘It was good baby, how was yours?’ Her question ended with a gigantic yawn as Drake could feel her head getting heavy against his chest, tired out from the day — and night — she’d had. He couldn’t help feeling crestfallen, she was obviously too tired to give him the attention he was craving and while part of him was desperate to get her talking again, he knew she should rest.

‘It was okay.’

The sound of the alarm forcefully pierced through his sleep and Drake winced again at the sound, jabbing the button down for the second day in a row.

‘What did that alarm clock ever do to you?’

He sat up suddenly to see his wife grinning at him, already showered and dressed, putting on a pair of earrings.

‘You’re still here.’ The words came out partway between a question and a statement as he pushed himself off the bed, walking to her.

‘If you have plans to stall me with that,’ Elizabeth glanced down to where he had an impressive case of morning wood. ‘Think again. I’ve got to leave soon.’

‘Enough time for a cup of coffee?’ He asked hopefully as she glanced at her watch, screwing up her nose.

‘Five minutes.’

Drake forced a smile. ‘I can work with that.’

He headed straight down to their kitchen after a quick visit to the bathroom and set on making coffee for them both — one sugar and a dash of milk for her and a long black for himself. Just as he set the pair of mugs on the countertop, Elizabeth meandered into the kitchen, eyes glued to her phone as she tapped out a message.

‘Thanks babe,'she murmured, wandering over to him to plant a kiss on his cheek, barely glancing up from the screen as she reached for the mug.

‘So what time will you be home?’ Drake asked, hands cupping his own drink as he watched her raise her to her lips.

‘I’ll text you,’ she mumbled, mug pausing just before reaching mouth as her phone began to buzz and she lowered it to the table to pick up the call. ‘This is Elizabeth… Yes…. No it should have been finalised yesterday… What?…’ She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her hand. ‘Alright just sit tight, I’ll be right there.’

She clicked off the call, hands already reaching for her purse as the apologetic look appeared in her eyes, one that Drake was getting reluctantly familiar with. ‘I gotta go.’

‘Yeah,’ he spat out, hoping she wouldn’t hear the venom in his tone, or maybe that she would, he didn’t know. ‘I get it. Go.’

If he was expecting her to notice his dejected tone, he was disappointed as Elizabeth merely grabbed her purse and keys and was out the door after pressing another kiss to his cheek, leaving her mug untouched.

Drake readjusted his grip on the picnic basket he was holding as he weaved his way through the palace halls towards Elizabeth’s office. In her rush to get out of the house this morning, he realised she’d left her lunch behind and had taken it upon himself to prepare a picnic lunch to surprise her, hoping that by the time he reached her, some of the chaos of her job would had been alleviated. Unfortunately this was not the case he soon learned as he paused outside the door other office, hearing her reprimand one of the staff. He winced, knowing that Elizabeth did not like to yell, much less at someone who was supposed to be working with her, usually trying and succeeding to resolve the matter over a civilised conversation. When the staff member, a slender Caucasian girl with a permanent attitude came out, he took his chance to slip in, hoping that he could take her away from all the stress that was weighing on her.

‘Hey Walker.’

Elizabeth picked her head up from her hands and looked at him suspiciously. ‘Drake? Why are you here?’

The comment hurt more than it should have, for though she did not say it aloud, he knew that he was out of place and unwanted. Still he tried to brush it off. ‘Jeez Liz don’t look so happy to see me or anything.’

‘What do you need? I’m busy and I’m sure you heard me telling Zoe off for her incompetence yet again. She can’t seem to do anything I tell her and now I’ve got a whole mess to clean up.’

‘I come in peace,’ he declared, holding up the picnic basket. ‘I thought we could sneak off for lunch together.’

She regarded him for a long moment and he felt his smile grow uneasy under her calculating gaze. ‘I don’t think I can Drake. Not today. There’s just too much I have to do, things to sign, meetings to attend…’ She trailed off gesturing to the piles of paperwork around her.

‘You need a break Liz,’ he tried again, coming around to her side of the desk. ‘I’m sure Cordonia won’t collapse if you take the afternoon off?’

She rolled her eyes, barely acknowledging his poor attempt at humour. ‘I can’t okay. It was a nice idea but I can’t afford to take any time off. Maybe later.’

‘Yeah that’s what you always say,’ Drake grumbled, not bothering to hold back the venom this time. ‘Can’t wait to be let down… again.'

'Stop acting like a baby Drake its just one picnic.’ Elizabeth replied sharply, looking up at him in annoyance.

‘No its not just one picnic,’ he retorted, anger bubbling to the surface, anger that stemmed from a deep sense of neglect. 'Ever since you’ve taken on this new job, You come home late, you’re gone early, I feel like I don’t even see you anymore.’

‘ What do you fucking mean?’ She questioned, getting riled up herself. 'We had sex just last night'

'What does that have to do with anything?'

'For us to have had sex it means you would have seen me Drake,’ she enunciated each word slowly, as if talking to a child. Thats how it works. That was time spent together. So don’t say I haven’t been there when I clearly was.’

'Its not just that..’ he burst out in frustration, unable to find the words to accurately voice his turbulent emotions. ‘Its everything else Elizabeth. I just want you but you’re always rushing off to some meeting, we can’t go five minutes without your goddamn phone interrupting us with another really important call -'

'Those calls are important Drake! I’m trying to make a real change here and the least you can do is support me.’

'How am I supposed to support you if I barely see you? I just want you but you don’t seem to be interested’ He shot back, turning on her, eyes blazing.

She rose to her feet, matching his glare. 'So what if you don’t see me once in a while? It comes with the territory, you knew what you were getting into when you married me.'

'Well lately I feel like the only person who’s putting any effort into this marriage!’ He exclaimed angrily. ‘If we can even call it that when you spend more time at that fucking desk than with me.’

‘What are you saying Drake?’

‘I’m… I’m saying,’ he fumbled for words that refused to come, keenly aware of her expectant expression. ‘You know what? Forget it. It was a stupid idea anyway.’

Grabbing the picnic basket, he stalked out, slamming the door behind him, leaving Elizabeth in the room by herself. She let out a small scream of frustration, stamping her foot and regretting it instantly when an arc of pain darted up from her heel.

‘Ouch fuck!’ She stomped back to her desk, plopping into the chair, anger at Drake’s childishness bubbling in her as her mind went over her side of the argument, unable to see it from his point of view in her rage. As her breathing calmed down, Elizabeth’s rational side began to kick in and she sighed loudly, feeling mentally exhausted. After a while she heard a sound at her door.

‘Knock knock.’

Elizabeth glanced up to see Liam standing in the doorway of her office looking apologetic.

She dropped her head back into her hands. ‘How much of that did you hear?’

‘Do you really want the answer to that one?’ He asked, taking a seat opposite her.

She sighed. ‘I messed up didn’t I?’

‘I hate to be the one to say this but yes you kind of did.’

‘Gee you give a real great pep talk Your Majesty,’ she replied sarcastically, remnants of her anger from argument not quite disappeared yet.

‘He’s right Elizabeth, you’re too stressed, you’ve taken on a whole department and while I have no reason to question your dedication or tenacity, its impacting the other parts of your life.’

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply but Liam held a hand up, gesturing for her to let him speak. ‘I’ll take it from here, you take the rest of the day off and tomorrow we’ll look into getting you a secretary.'

This time she was unable to stop her protest. 'But Liam you’re the king, you literally have a whole kingdom to run… If I can’t run a department myself then-’

‘As your king I am ordering you to take the rest of the day off, and tomorrow too,’ he held a hand up again, seeing as she was about to argue. ‘I’ll can handle it, don’t worry.’

‘Even if I do go back now, he’s still gonna be mad.’

‘True,’ Liam mused. ‘Let him let off some steam then go to him.’

‘What am I going to say? I have no idea where to begin,’ she admitted, running a hand through her hair at the harsh words they'd exchanged.

Liam smiled. ‘Thats the thing about Drake. You don’t have to say or do anything fancy, you know that by now. All you need to give him is your time. Just being there will mean the world to him.’

Elizabeth glanced up, feeling the weight in her chest lessen a little and eventually a smile began to form. ‘Did anyone ever tell you, you’d make a good diplomat?’

‘I’m sure they recognised that,’ Liam chuckled. ‘That’s why they made me king. Now go.’

Needing no further encouragement, Elizabeth leapt out of her chair, giving him a small squeeze on the shoulder. ‘Thanks Liam. I’ve got the perfect idea.’

When Drake returned home a few hours later, having taken a drive to clear his head after the argument with his wife, upon unlocking the door to their residence wing of Atlantea, he almost swore as something hit him lightly in the face. Glancing up in confusion, he saw a note tied to the string of a yellow balloon.

In order to find me, you must first mount a noble steed.

‘What the fuck?’ He whispered under his breath, more confused at ever at the cryptic message. It was obviously leading to the stables but for what? He turned on his heel and was out the door again, making his way down to the expansive building that housed the horses he cared for. Peeking in, he found it empty except for an identical yellow balloon floating in the far corner. He grabbed the note attached to it and read.

The quest continues, you shall find what you seek through the valley and down the creek.

He raised his eyebrow at the terrible pun, beginning to catch on before a horse whinnied and Flame the gelding he’d rescued nudged his arm. Getting the message, Drake quickly saddled him up and set down the old trail into the forest. He’s almost thought he’d been played, lead on a wild goose chase as the sun was beginning to dip under the horizon when he spotted a light in the trees. Urging Flame into a trot, he rounded the bend to find the gazebo he’d built there lit up with gentle fairy lights, the breeze ruffling the curtains gently.

Elizabeth stepped out, looking at him apologetically and he noted that she was dressed more casually in a summer dress and cardigan that matched the yellow balloon she was holding. Drake dismounted, brow furrowed as he looked past her to find a romantic dinner set up for the two of them inside the structure before he turned his questioning gaze back to her.

‘I’m sorry,’ Elizabeth began, gesturing at their surroundings. ‘I got too caught up in work and didn’t make enough time for you… for us. I shouldn’t have yelled this afternoon. You were only trying to help me destress and I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t have yelled.’

She kept talking as he began to approach, eyes trained on him. 'You were right. I did neglect you and I’m sorry. I want this… I want us to work out. And I’m not going to let work get in the way of us ever again.'

Drake was almost in front of her when she spoke again, just within arms reach but his eyes still doubted her. 'You said earlier you didn't want all the pomp and circumstance, you just wanted me. Well now you have me.’

‘What about your projects and stuff?’ He asked finally, still holding his reservations.

Elizabeth noted that and was already nodding. 'For the next 48 hours I am completely and totally yours, no phones, no interruptions and we can spend as much time together as you want. Following that 48 hours I promise to make time for you, no matter how busy our lives get, I promise to always make time for us Drake. I-I love you. A lot. And I just want you too.’

Those were the words he needed to hear and Drake had no hesitation to wrap her in his arms and pull her close, voice reverent as he gazed deeply into her eyes. ‘You’re all I ever wanted Elizabeth. And I love you too.’

He caught her lips in a long slow kiss that tingled out from her mouth to the rest of her body and she responded eagerly, relieved that he’d forgiven her. His hand reached up to cup her cheeks he deepened the kiss and finally her mind was set at ease.

They would be okay. Everything else could wait, for now it was just the two of them. As it should be.

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr drake #Drake x Elizabeth #elizabeth richmond #The Royal Romance #trr #choices #playchoices #choices fandom #choices fanfiction #PURE FLUFF RIGHT HERE #ARE YOU HAPPY TRU #YOU GOT YOUR QT FIC #sorry if the ending was crap #i was falling alseep at my laptop so just deal with it

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sin-like-me · 6 years

Text

Equal Measure

Pairing: John Seed x (tried for a Gender Neutral Deputy)

Word Count: 4,223

Warnings: I swear, I enjoy it, and I am unapologetic. Heads up.

Summary: Associations can be dangerous, determination concerning, and a small bit of plastic incredibly weighty.

Quick Note: This is the first time I have ever shared something I have written. Be advised there is no beta reader. The idea sprang from owning the very quilt mentioned... Also, I deeply appreciate Ubisoft and their writers for creating this entire universe. I seek only to borrow the Seeds from time to time to do with them as I will.

<~~~~~~~~>~~~~~~~~~~<~~~~~~~~~~~>~~~~~~~~~~~~~<~~~~~~~~~~~~>

‘What in the hell am I doing?!’

This is the thought that has been echoing in your head for the last twenty minutes; its insistence so loud it nearly drowns out the surrounding cacophony of frogs. Incredulity seeps from every pore as your heavily booted feet unerringly find purchase on the forest floor. It is your sure and steady tread through the darkness that impedes the wake-up call you so desperately need. You marvel with a slightly disconnected humor as your body takes over, blazing a trail to your possible destruction. Apparently, common sense was thrown violently from a window in lieu of a surety of heart.

‘I’m going to get myself killed over a damned ill conceived notion. Sorry Resistance members, your “hero” has perished due to their own asininity. Why, you good folk thought that if the Deputy ever fell it would be at the hands of a Peggie? Maybe a Judge? More the fool you.’

A fallen tree lies across the trail and without a second thought you nimbly vault over, landing with a surprisingly mute thump. These past weeks have improved your physical prowess and given you a new appreciation for stealth. Hell, once upon a time that little feat would have taken several tries before it was landed successfully. Who knew that fighting for survival would carry such excellent side benefits? Well, ya know, other than staying alive to see another day.

‘I am a damned fool, or maybe just damned.’

Above, a sliver of moon barely illuminates the neatly tied package hooked to your belt. The item in question was a bit bulky, though light weight and useful; loot you happened upon while clearing shelter for the night. That something so simple, ridiculous even, could quite possibly bring about your death was mind boggling. Logically you knew that what you carried would not only be welcomed but deeply appreciated by the Rye family. Alas, the moment you realized what you had chanced upon HIS face swam into view; vaguely alarming you with just how quickly you drew the association. Hell, if you had an ounce of self preservation you would turn on your heel and head towards Nick’s place.

‘It’s juvenile for fucks sake!’

Trying to push aside the feeling of panic clawing its way up your sides, you mentally recall every single detail leading you to this point.

‘Maybe I’m blissed out of my mind. I HAVE to be. Were there any of those damned Bliss flowers around?’

A few hours earlier you caught sight of the small white home, its silence deafening on the edge of the surrounding chaos. Blood was smeared across the front walk, the windows shattered and no vehicles, nor Bliss bouquets, present. It appeared abandoned, a potential place of rest. Crouching you held your gun at ready, muscles tensed as you methodically peeked through windows, watching, waiting, aware and patient.

Moving silently and swiftly you covered the entire perimeter neither observing nor hearing the slightest of sounds or movements from inside. Tossing a rock into several of the windows from behind cover of the truck, you held your breath half hoping for a confrontation and half dreading one. A minute become five. Nothing. It had to be clear. The Peggies weren’t known to be particularly patient. You stood, stretched your back. The weight from your survival pack taking a small toll after a solid 8 hour hike. Only a few more feet… deep, steadying breath and you leveled your shotgun at the door. Haste made your steps a bit louder than you would have liked, but as you threw open the door and swept the room, you had to smirk. Out of the corner of your eye you managed a glimpse of your face plastered on a wanted poster.

‘Wanted? Yeah, well, good luck you fanatics. I will not go gentle into that good night.’

Lowering your weapon once you established an all clear, you viciously ripped down their pitiful attempt at intimidation. Scoffing you made damn sure to leave a heavy boot print on its face, unrepentant sinner that you were and all. Inside boxes were stacked high enough to obscure any view outside, but they also enabled some cover. A short walk-through and you mentally noted all entry and exit points, only stopping to complain once.

“Shit.”

The back door had been completely removed.

Thinking on your feet, you pushed and stacked boxes in front of the opening. It wouldn’t stop much of anything, but it would serve as a noisy warning. Truthfully, it gave you what you were craving: the illusion of safety. As satisfied as you were going to be with the makeshift barrier, you returned to the living room. The now cleared couch seemed inviting but a sudden breeze through the window frames invoked an involuntary shiver. Maybe you could find a blanket in one of the many boxes? Hell, it was worth a shot. Heading over to a solitary box sitting atop an old armchair you pulled your treasured Ka-Bar knife from the top of your boot. Making quick work of the tape, a surprised laugh escaped your lips when you immediately hit pay dirt. Luck seemed to shadow your every move… or perhaps divine intervention?

A quick thought was spared for the Seeds as you pulled a stack of cloth out of the box. Saviors of the modern world, yet death stalked their every move. Did they not see the blatant hypocrisy? Killing or force converting the masses in order to save them from “the Great Collapse”?! It was either utter bullshit or at the very least counterintuitive.

Ahha! Your hand skims smooth, thin blue cotton. While sheets were nice, something heavier would be better...annnnddddd BINGO! A quilt. You pulled it free and shook it out, letting the ends drop to the floor. The orange glow from the dying sun gave the back of the cream colored quilt an odd glow. Eyes scanning the windows, you made your way to the couch and sat down, sheets and quilt clutched in a fist.

Rule one of survival? Rest before resistance. Maybe the Resistance should make their own posters and hang ‘em right next to those ever so cheery YES! signs.

The light of the day dipped beyond the horizon. Night began to settle in, snuffing out the remnants of illumination and cradling you in its embrace of anonymity and obscurity. In the dark you seem safe and hidden.

The perfect silence is interrupted by a low growl from your stomach. Ah, well perhaps you need more than rest. You debate eating the cans of tuna spotted on the kitchen counter, but forgo it in favor of a protein bar from your pack. Quite frankly jimmying the can open with your knife was a little more effort than you wanted to expend at that moment. Besides the chalky texture wasn’t too terrible if you ate it quickly.

Hunger abated you set your pack and shotgun on the floor beside the couch within easy reach, and pulled the sidearm from your hip. No one was comfortable trying to sleep with a gun digging into their side. Hmmm, maybe a bit more light for the moment while you arranged yourself on the couch. Leaning up from your semi-prone position and grabbing a glow stick from the side of your hiking pack, you snap it in half, shake and are engulfed in a faint, eerie, green glow. Ah, to sleep in combat boots or not was the question. Sleeping without shoes was a luxury you had not indulged in recent memory. You had to always be ready, prepared to defend, run, or kill at a moments notice. You learned quickly that having your fight or flight response consistently heightened was not sustainable. There were moments of breaking, of utter mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion so acute you didn’t give a damn about anything at all.

This was one of those times.

Fuck the shoes.

You sat up again to unlace the well worn, well loved boots when you froze in place. Horrified amusement broke your arms out in goosebumps as its chill trickled down your spine. Oh, but God had a sense of humor. Draped across your lap the quilt you had quickly dismissed as non-descript was anything but. Large squares repeated a pattern in red, blue and cream and you couldn’t help where you mind raced. Vivid flashes assaulted your senses: blue eyes boring into yours, his cold, barely controlled fury lapping at your soul in ravenous waves.

You hated that you read their file before leaving the station on that fated night. For weeks you did not let yourself stop to think and consider. To empathize. You knew their documented history, knew the hell the Seed brothers had endured throughout what should have been a normal childhood. Fingers reflexively clutching the fabric in your fist, your eyes lost focus, thoughts turning further inward.

Each Seed brother had been and were being shaped by their experiences, each twisted in a different way, all needing balance.. And maybe even kindness. You offered them no excuses, could not forget nor understand their actions, but suddenly you knew you could empathize with their pasts. You could glean some form of perspective, and that scared you. Were the lines not black and white in this struggle? Were there actual shades of grey?

‘Damn it!’

You shook your head trying to physically dislodged these uncomfortable realizations. We are all a constantly evolving product of our experiences, the Seeds included. Maybe.. Maybe it was not too late?

Following that hope was a dash of reality. Too late for what? To save everyone? To be the hero to all? For peace? That is for children’s fairy tales. This was real life.. And real life was messy.

You focus on the quilt in our hand, a wild idea solidifying into a determined decision.

It is said that hope can be a dangerous thing, well, apparently you are now on a mission to prove it.

Before you could rethink your plan, you folded the quilt into a neat square, grabbed some of the brown packing paper forgotten on the kitchen floor, and deftly wrapped the package. No luck finding any tape, so improvise and adapt. You had some gauze strips and with a little ripping it would tie it closed in a pinch. Properly secured, you examined the finished product.. It was missing a calling card, something to let him know you had delivered it, knew where he was and that you could have easy access if you so chose… but what? Then it hit you. A slow smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you leaned back into the couch, hand going for your jeans pocket. You didn’t know why you hadn’t sewn it back on yet, probably saving it as a perverse reminder of your escape. It would be the perfect nod to and perhaps even a small dig at the man who considered himself just that “fresh” as Sharky would say.

Without a second thought you snaked a piece of gauze thread through the holes and neatly secure the small, innocuous object front and center.

Presently that tiny piece of blue plastic glinted up at you in the moonlight reminding you that yes, you were in fact enroute to one of the Seed’s compounds. Even knowing the danger you kept your pace, ducking under low hanging branches and freezing into a crouch as a twig snapped less than a klick to the west. Soundlessly your silenced P226 Amendment 2 was drawn and aimed towards the sound when you spotted a small pack of wolves stalking the vicinity. As long as lady luck kept your scent downwind you would be elusive, time to pick up the pace.

Keeping the river to your left you knew that the ranch was about an hour hike from your shelter, but that was assuming one could just waltz down the long drive and right up to the front door. You had no such luxury, so you kept to the riverbank and trees, skirting along the property line under the cover of night. You made decent time all things considered and when you found the dock you knew you had to scale the cliffs behind his home. Hmph. Good thing you took the time to wolf down that protein bar. Grappling on an empty stomach was difficult at the best of times, and grappling at night while surrounded by Peggies in various states of alert was NOT the best of times.

The cliff edge was approximately 30 feet from a side door leading into some portion of the vast building which John Seed called home. Cult members were stationed at lookout points along the four corners of the property with a small group at the front and to the sides. Right now the back was clear of patrols so you narrowed in on your destination: a patch of tall flowering plants. Pulling yourself up and over the final ridge with a soft grunt, you quickly crouched behind a nearby tree, scoping the surroundings before dashing into the midst of cover. The door was so damned close.. You unclipped the package from your waist and hefted its weight in your palm. You could throw it, but where was the personal touch in that? No, you did not come all this way pushing past exhaustion to just throw it and run. Sure the area was well lit, sure this was the home of one of the Heralds of the Collapse, but in this very moment you were foolishly unafraid. Unafraid or perhaps in some form of delirium from exhaustion.

Your suspicions spike when nary a soul comes to patrol the back door. It made no sense. The Seeds were many things, but unprepared and stupid were not one of them. Then a certainty flitted through your subconscious:

John knows I am here.

Alright, let’s say he does. So, what do you do? Do you sit here and debate the reason why, do you leave, or do you oblige the curiosities of a man who for reasons unknown obviously has no immediate intention of capturing you? Why Sharky’s voice rang in your thoughts at that moment were unclear but damn he was right.

“Ride or Die.” you whisper.

Standing tall, equal parts foolhardy and confident, you make your way to the backdoor, eyes always forward in defiance of any possible threats. With a studied casualness you ascend the two steps to the cedar stoop, package in hand. Well, so far, so good. Glancing up you spot a red light. Mhm, of course John liked to watch.

‘Well Mr. John Seed, enjoy the show.’

Dropping to one knee, you make sure to mockingly exaggerate every movement.

“An offering to the god Maximon.” you mutter sarcastically staring at the camera stationed in the corner of the overhang. “Google it John.”

You wink, a delicious trill of excitement tugging your lips into a smirk. Standing then, you flip him the nationwide symbol for get fucked, and waltz right back to the cliffs. Your shoulders feeling lighter, your burden moved. You would not be hunted this night.

He knew….and the ball was in his court.

As Fate would have it, John just happened to be on the ranch that night. He saw the Deputy the moment a delicate hand grasped the cliff's edge. Little known fact, the first thing he had done when he bought this ranch was to make sure security cameras were installed to cover every single angle of his ranch. At the time it was expensive, but he knew he would not regret it and as he sat back in his chair, the black leather creaking slightly with his shifting weight, he basked in his foresight. On the screen the slender fingers flexed as a head of dark hair came into view. John did not consciously acknowledge how his breath hitched in anticipation nor did he stop to consider how he recognized Rook from something as small as that hand.

Cerulean eyes narrowed under dark brows absorbing every single muscle flex, every minute facial tick.

“Oh what do we have here Dep-ut-yyyy.. Tsk, tsk.. You can do so much better than this pitiful attempt at assassination.” He leaned forward slowly, tapping the figure on the screen with a long, well manicured finger. “Frankly my dear, I am offended.”

Rook was crouching now, and John watched in amusement as the quick progression to the edge of the trees came to an abrupt halt. Time to debate that next move.

“Well, you certainly have my attention and curiosity…” eyes never leaving the screen, his hand closes around his radio. Switching to his personal security channel, his next order was very deliberate, “Call off all patrols for the next hour.”

A brief crackle of static, “Yes sir John sir.”

He smirked, they knew better than to question him and damned if they would defy him. He may lack Jacob’s military training, but he could command a flock through fear and charm.

“What are you up to my sinful Wrath?”

It was then he spotted a thick, square package being untied from the black leather belt slung snugly across the deputy’s hips.

“Explosives? How utterly mundane.” disappointment dripped from his words.

He watched as there was a sudden shift in the Deputy’s posture. From a crouching and tensely coiled machine arose a self-confident silhouette. No longer were the steps hurried, quiet, and cautious. In place was an arrogant stride, each step measured and calculated, and the demeanor focused on the goal ahead. Never once did eyes dart to look to the sides or behind. It was then he knew…

His... no, no, no… THE Deputy knew he was watching.

A shiver danced up the base of his spine, eyes narrowing. A devilish smile curved his lips bringing a sudden softness to his usually intense face.

“My, my aren’t we the brave one? All alone with no sign of Nick or Sharky? An unapproved outing perhaps? Ahhh, secrets upon lies upon secrets. Your sins seem to know no bounds.”

Rook had reached the door after a quick climb up the two back steps. John braced his forearm along the desk and leaned in so close that the screen almost grazed his nose. He should have been focusing on the package, but his eyes would not leave Rook’s face.

“Show me your sin… show me your wrath,” he whispers, almost begging.

In a surprising move, the Deputy falls to one knee and looks directly at the camera, eyes amused even through the technological barrier. Lips are pursed in a small smile, mocking and almost taunting him. The mic kicked on and he heard every single word that pretty little throat uttered.

“An offering to the god Maximon.” a soft intake of breath and … was that a fucking laugh?! “Google it John.”

The use of his name scattered any logical thought processes he may have had. Never before had Rook uttered it, not when tied to his chair, not when baptised.. The sound of it from those lips and in that voice was alarming. Equal parts dreadful and pleasing.

The package, which he had forgotten in his astonishment, was placed gently upon the deck and with a small pause, the Deputy looked back up at the camera and winked. His internal confusion mounted until, standing, he got the one finger salute. John barely caught the guffaw that was trying to escape his throat so what ended up coming out was a strained grunt.

“Ahhhh, and there it is mixed with a bit of arrogance.”

Did the Deputy think him a complete simpleton? He was an educated man. He damn well knew the legend behind the Mayan God Maximon. Obviously Rook was trying to draw some rather dramatic comparisons. John chuckled. Oh dear… Was it the sunglasses? My, how he enjoyed that little reference.

Watching the retreating form closely, John sat on the edge of his chair until the deputy’s head disappeared down the cliff. Once gone from the screen and his property, John finally stood to his full height of 5’10”. Running an unsteady hand through his hair, he made a quick grab for the radio before turning to descend to the back door.

Who was he to shun any offerings left by his admirers?

Cracking the door he peeked down at the package. Nothing was blinking or ticking.. He reached to his side, grabbed a conveniently placed broom and poked it. Surprisingly the package gave way with the brown paper ripping slightly.

Cloth?!

“What do you have up your sleeve?”

Pushing the broom back behind him, John stepped out onto the stoop and picked up the parcel. From what he could see inside the hole it looked like some clothing perhaps? Was the Deputy affronted by his fashion sense? Pft. He was damn meticulous about his choice of clothes, he was the face of Eden’s Gate after all. This look went over well for the most part.

He began to pluck at the gauze tying the parcel closed when a small blue button caught his eye. It was securely fastened to the middle of the package demanding to be noticed and there was absolutely no need for an explanation. John immediately knew what it was. Memories of the moment that he had Rook tied to his chair, the room encased in harsh red light.... He had leaned down, his mouth saying how he wished he had more to say yes to...ripping open that blue button down shirt… buttons scattered, flesh visible to his feasting eyes, sponge cleaning the fevered skin, his eyes demanding of those before him, commanding obedience yet hoping for rebellion.. Oh he knew this little button well.

His fingers closed into a fist around the small bit of plastic, tightening his grip until its form bit into the soft flesh of his palm. He shook his head to bring him back to the present before pocketing the button. Ripping the remaining paper away, John flicked out the cloth within and studied it briefly before throwing his head back and laughing.

It was a quilt… a quilt with blue planes and clouds in squares around the outskirts, and a red and blue plane circling each other in the center. It was obviously made with a child in mind, but John was oddly pleased. Sure the quilt was juvenile, but it told him quite a lot. The Deputy had somehow noted his admiration for planes in the only way possible: by the pattern on the coat he had only worn once when they first laid eyes on one another. It seemed a lifetime ago, that moment where it all began. The fact that those observant eyes had paid special attention to him, that Rook felt the need to gift this to him… spoke of something more than wrath.

He smirked, picking up the trash and tossing the quilt over his forearm to carry inside. This quilt was sure to be an interesting piece, and hell he might even display it in a mocking way amongst his Eden’s Gate symbols and books. For the moment he tossed the quilt over the dining room table, ignoring the blinking message light on his answering machine.

Was the Deputy coming around? Doubtful, but possible.

He made a quick detour through his kitchen and into his garage where there was a toolbox with exactly what he needed. On autopilot he rummaged through the necessary drawers, pushing aside bits of metal until he located the needle nose pliers and jump rings.

Striding back into the dining room John pulled a chair out in a quick gesture. Sitting thoughtfully, eyes glazed in contemplation, he was unaware as his hand toyed with the leather thong around his neck. A quick blink and he pulled up, ducking absently as it slipped from around his neck. What he was doing, he would not fully comprehend in the moment, but it was something he desperately needed. That tiny piece of plastic burned his thigh where it rested, heavy with meaning. Tugging it from where it lay hidden, deft fingers attached the weighty piece of blue behind his bunker key.

This was.. His? John brought the leather up to his neck, and after a brief debate slipped it back over his head. The weight from the key caused the leather to fall silently back into place, its familiar shape coming to a rest against his bare chest. Where there should have been the cool bite of metal, instead burned the heat of a secret contained in the form of a small blue button. Yes, this was his. His to carry or expose as he saw fit.

The Deputy… HIS deputy, was a weight he would shoulder, a sin he would either condone, commit, or eventually excise and cleanse. The path was not clear to him yet, but he would save Wrath even if it meant dragging them bodily into salvation: bloody, kicking, and screaming.

John chuckled as his hand closed over the handheld, the soft crackle of open airwaves loud in the silence of revelation, “Patrols will resume in an hour.”

Immediately he received his enthusiastic response: “Yes sir!”

Tonight? Well, tonight he would grant reprieve.

#john seed #far cry 5 #far cry deputy #far cry 5 fandom #far cry 5 fanfiction

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todobaku-shoukat · 7 years

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Date

AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11043168/

Todoroki and Bakugou go on their first date to the amusement park

Part 1

Going to an amusement park for a first date had seemed overly stereotypical. However, neither of them have been to one. Todoroki was busy being forced by his father to train, while Bakugou was busy training himself. Besides, a new amusement park had opened recently. It was part of some initiative to combine quirks with more traditional forms of entertainment. And so, a date at the amusement park was in order.

The amusement park had extremely exacting standards of security. At the entrance, they had to sign an acknowledgement and agreement of risks, and consented to the use of quirks on themselves. They also had to wear a retainer around their wrists that prevented them from using their quirks in case the quirk interfered with the running of the park. The retainers allowed them to be warped into the amusement park. Should they remove the retainers, they would be warped back out. It was a system to allow the smooth running of the park without putting it at risk of villain attacks.

As they entered the park, Todoroki noticed that there was a distinct lack of rollercoaster tracks. He had heard that rollercoasters were the main attraction of any amusement park, and that the tracks were the most conspicuous and iconic feature. As it was both their first time there, Todoroki and Bakugou weren’t sure what to do first. Thus, they decided to just start from what was the closest, and it happened to be a rather quaint haunted house. As heroes-in-training that have had as many run-ins with villains as they’ve had, they were not fazed at all. But as they entered the haunted house, they felt a chill run down their spines.

Bakugou felt a cold breath on the back of his neck and he immediately slapped a hand over the area as he swivelled around to find the culprit. There was nobody there, but Bakugou still felt the cold wind on his neck under his palm. Narrowing his eyes in the pitch-black darkness, Bakugou growled for the offender to show itself. His growls echo back at him, louder and creepier, like a feral starving pack of wolves. Bakugou feels like he’s on edge and he’s surprised at his own reaction. There was nothing scary about a dark room or a random breeze at his neck. This was nothing compared to being kidnapped by the League of Villains.

Yet, the fear and trepidation were much more. Bakugou felt his heart beating frantically in his chest, as if it was a small bird trying to force its way out of a cage. He began to sweat profusely. Bakugou felt beads of perspiration trickle down his temple and his palms grew slick with sweat. He would have been worried of accidentally setting off an explosion if he wasn’t wearing a retainer.

“Todoroki?” Bakugou called hesitantly as he reached out around himself, trying to locate the other. There was no response. “Hey! Half-and-half bastard! Don’t ignore me!”

Still, there was no reply, except the echoing of his own voice booming dementedly.

Suddenly, there was a flash of searing white light. Bakugou shielded his eyes instinctively, throwing an arm over his eyes. Bakugou blinked the white spots out of eyes as he took in the brighten room. It was a familiar room. As Bakugou tried to move forward to explore the room, he found himself tied to a chair. He wanted to shout, but found his mouth gagged. Bakugou found himself back in the room that the League of Villains had held him captive in.

Bakugou took a deep breath, trying to rationalise. At the back of his mind, Bakugou knew that this was mostly the work of an emotion manipulator and illusionist. However, the sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his ears stopped him from reaching that conclusion.

On the other hand, Todoroki found himself back in his childhood training room. His father was there, all big and looming and dominating presence.

“You better run faster. What use are you if you’re always so slow?” His father’s voice thundered and reverberated in the small room. Todoroki felt small. He knew in his heart that he has already overcome his fear for his father. Yet, Todoroki felt his heart clench in apprehension.

Suddenly, his mother was in the room, mouth parting to reveal two rows of razor sharp teeth. Her voice is full of disgust as she spat, “You’re so worthless! Even with that revolting left side of yours, you will never amount to anything!”

Todoroki felt bile rising in his throat and tears filling his eyes. His father has a hand around his mother’s neck, her head twisted in an odd direction, and threatening him to beat All Might. Todoroki shook his head. He had visited his mother recently. They have reconciled and resolved all misunderstandings.

This is not real.

Todoroki has gotten over all these already. These were no longer his biggest fear. And suddenly, it was not his mother in his father’s hands, but an unconscious and beaten Bakugou. Endeavour held Bakugou by his collar, lips curling into a sinister smirk. Crimson blood was flowing richly from Bakugou’s head, and his clothes were torn and tattered. There was a large bruise blooming around his wrists and neck as if he had been tied up and tortured.

It made blood boil in Todoroki’s veins.

“You know you only like this boy because of his quirk. Because he is like your father. All you want is for me to acknowledge you, isn’t it? He’s just like me, you know.” Endeavour cackled as he swung Bakugou across the room. Bakugou lands with a loud crunch, body contorted painfully.

“Fuck you! You don’t know anything about me or Bakugou! I won’t give in to you! You may be my father but I sure as hell don’t see you as one!” Todoroki snarled, raising his right hand as if to attack. Reality had melted away, and all that was on Todoroki’s mind was him, his father, and his boyfriend.

And then, everything was on fire. Throngs of flames licked at the floor, swallowing every combustible material in its path. It consumed the dreadful treadmill he spent hours of his days running on, and continued to spread upwards. The ceiling had started to crumble and Todoroki scrambled desperately towards Bakugou. The pungent smell of smoke choked his lungs as he gasped for air. It stung his eyes and he started to tear. Gently cradling Bakugou in his arms, Todoroki made a mad dash towards the door. He turned the back of his shoulder to the door, bracing for impact.

But none came. Instead, Todoroki found himself out of the haunted house holding nothing. He buckled over, taking in deep breaths as his senses returned to him, wondering what on earth was all that. As he returned to himself, Todoroki asked the person manning the attraction where Bakugou was. All he received in reply was that Bakugou has yet to finish the haunted house, and a brochure of the attraction.

Todoroki browsed through the brochure and learned that the haunted house was operated by a family of illusionists and emotion manipulators. The illusionists could not see the illusions, giving some sort of privacy. But they could make use of the individual’s different experiences and fears, no matter how irrational and insignificant, and turn them into nightmares with the help of the emotion manipulators. Maybe they should have done more research before coming, but Todoroki hadn’t expected the amusement park to be so hardcore. However, the haunted house was probably not made for traumatised teenagers, but rather kids with benign phobias like of ghosts and spiders.

As he thought back on his own experience, Todoroki was worried about how well Bakugou was faring.

As Todoroki had gotten out, Bakugou had found himself in the same old nightmare. He dreamt of his villain encounters often, how the Sludge Villain had filled his lungs, how he was caught despite having his own protection squad, how he had come so close to escaping but was ultimately trapped. He remembered how the League of Villains had withheld food and water from him, and how his throat burned with thirst and stomach turned on itself. He remembered how he came so close to the hands that could shatter him into a million tiny pieces, slowly and painfully. And he remembered how it is his fault that All Might had to retire.

Because he was inferior. And because of his fucking pride despite being so fucking useless. Because he couldn’t do anything, yet refused help, Bakugou was tied up and caught again.

Bakugou felt like he was submerged underwater. Like he was forgetting something as his brain became numb to anything that is not associated with his fear and insecurities. He felt like he was drowning.

And there, in front of him, was Shigaraki Tomura. Shigaraki’s voice drawled as he asked Bakugou to join the League of Villains. The scene had repeated countless times in Bakugou’s dreams. Every time, he refuses. Sometimes, his friends would swoop in and save him. Other times, he’d see them all die as he is compressed into a marble again.

But this time, when he refused, Shigaraki has Todoroki’s face in his palm. The threat lay heavy in the air. There was a pause. And then, Todoroki’s face began to crumble.

Bakugou didn’t want to give up on his ideals. But he didn’t want to give up on Todoroki and what they could have either. No one was going to get hurt because of him again. He will protect them. He will.

But Bakugou could not even use his quirk. And even if he could, he was only good at destroying. He couldn’t save or rescue anybody. Bakugou began to hyperventilate. He was weak, so weak. Bakugou thinks to himself. He will get stronger. He will become number one and protect all that he cares about.

His heart rate began to slow down unnaturally as everything began to fade. The illusions disappear, and Bakugou found himself in an empty room as an emotion manipulator and nurse came in to check on him. He was fine, he told them. He just needed some time to come back into himself. He felt a wave of calm washing over him and decided to accept the help. He knew better than to make a fool of himself.

When he felt better, they told him that Todoroki was waiting for him outside. Bakugou tried to hide the relief he felt from knowing that Todoroki was safe, but he knew they could feel it. When Bakugou was reunited with Todoroki, they both gave each other a subtle once-over. Deeming each other fine, they quickly walked away from the haunted house.

“That was an experience,” Todoroki said, unsure about what to do.

Bakugou shuddered and replied with mock nonchalance, “It was stupid.”

Taking in Bakugou’s demeanour, Todoroki understood how he felt. “Can we hold hands?”

Bakugou raised an eyebrow. Do couples hold hands on their first date?

“I’m still not over the haunted house yet…” Todoroki replied. Indeed, he wasn’t. And he knew Bakugou wasn’t either.

Bakugou mocked a wry smile and gratefully held on to Todoroki’s outstretched hand. A light blush dusted his cheeks when Todoroki intertwined their hands, but Bakugou did not protest. He would not admit it, but he needed the touch as much as Todoroki did. Todoroki’s hands were warm and comforting, and it calmed it immensely and naturally.

“So… where to next?”

#todobaku #fanfic #future verse #todoroki shouto #bakugou katsuki #boku no hero academia #bnha #ABCs of Todobaku

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thank-your-lucky-stars · 7 years

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I’ve been feeling a bit reflective about my old fandom since yesterday, after watching a compilation video of all the times The Monkees broke the fourth wall. I also realised it’s roughly three years since I hosted the first Monkees Awards! So many people took part back then. Oh how things change!

This post gets kinda long, and I chat about the differences between my old fandom, and my current fandom, and what I’ve learnt from my experiences. I’m shoving it under a read more so not to flood your dash’s!!!!

It’s so sad how things work out. It’s so sad the way that a fandom that was happy and active when I joined in 2012 just fizzled out to nothing a few years later. I know it had been on the decline for a little while, but the fact that it finally died in 2016 - the Monkees 50th anniversary year - is honestly so so sad to me. I just find it a real shame.

There were some good people in that fandom. Some smart, funny and fun people. It’s sad that many people got too scared to post, and we all know why that was. It made the most active blogs who posted the most content - like myself at the time - not want to post anymore, as we’d go into the tag and it would be.....dead. There would be nothing there. Nothing to inspire us to create, and I know I’d wonder if anyone would care if I did post. There didn’t seem to be the audience anymore.

There were people I really thought were friends. If not proper hardcore friends, then mates at least. There are a handful of Monkees fans/blog that still follow me. Most of them unfollowed me, which I can understand - especially now I post so much of something else. It’s still a shame though. I lost one of the first Monkees blogs that ever followed me/that I ever followed the other day, but at least she messaged me first and explained, which I really appreciated. It was a nice gesture, to say there was no hard feelings, she still wanted to stay in touch, but she was just cleaning up her dash. Which again, I totally get. Especially when I’m posting 8848429 Robron posts a day (which....I don’t every day, but when something exciting/major is happening, then yeah I can post a LOT, which I understand can be annoying to non-fans). But still, it was so kind of her to at least tell me she was going to unfollow me, especially as she’d been a constant presence on my dash for the best part of five years. I doubt I’ll ever hear from her again, but that’s okay. I still follow her all the same.

Not everyone has been that kind though. People that I’d had long, long conversations with over the course of years, people that I’d chatted to about personal stuff as well as fandom stuff just....disappeared. Either unfollowed or simply stopped talking to me all together. In one very specific case, with someone I used to talk to quite a lot, I said “I don't want it to get so you only speak to me about terrible people and nothing else.” to which the person said that would never be the case. I saw that as a test, an opportunity for me to see if that person would ever actually talk to me about anything else, so I left the door open, wondering if they would ever get in touch with me, ask me how I was doing, or anything like that.

It’s been almost six months, and they never spoke to me again.

But I know that’s just the way it goes for some people. I know they want their fandom friends and if you take the fandom away then they don’t want to know. And I mean.....I get it. I honestly do. But it can be eye-opening. I feel like I have learnt a lot, and I’ve definitely learnt to protect myself, to not invest myself as heavily anymore. Which is....hard for me. It goes against my natural instincts.

It’s especially hard, coming into a fandom where everyone is so so kind and sympathetic and caring and open and just....nice. I was burnt a LOT in my last fandom, and used a lot too. People who would come to me, spilling all of their problems, and I would spend hours talking to them, trying to help them. But once they’d got my advice, my sympathy, they didn’t want to know. And when the tables were turned, and I was the one struggling, I’d hear nothing from them.

But that was my fault. It was something I spoke about a lot at the time and I won’t go into it again. But it taught me a hell of a lot!! I can never not help people or be there if they need it, but I’ve definitely learnt the signs between people that genuinely care, and genuinely need help, and people who just.....like attention, people who will take take take but won’t give. I can read it a lot better now. But at the same time, I also know not to invest too much of myself into these people. I can offer advice and support but I don’t necessarily have to offer me.

I haven’t encountered anyone like that in this fandom so far, which is amazing. But I still have the valuable lessons from my old fandom (and my first ever fandom, the MCR fandom tbh) that I can carry with me!

But I mean, I’m not going to say it was all bad, or all people were selfish or awful or anything, because by god they weren’t! And even the people that were self-involved.....I know it wasn’t their fault. It doesn’t make them bad people. I don’t hate them or even dislike them, not at all. Some people are just like that, and maybe it was my fault, maybe I just put myself out there like I was a doormat or something. I don’t know. I accept my part of the responsibility. Sometimes I try too hard.

But there were great people too, and great times. There were some funny conversations and memes and some really insightful posts and I learnt a hell of a lot. It was such a different experience, being in a fandom where the band’s/TV show’s heyday was 20 years before I was ever born. It was weird to just celebrate the past and not really have any care for the future. A totally different ball-game to being in a fandom like I’m in now, where every day there seems to be something new, something to look forward to (or dread!) and there are obviously a hell of a lot more people about now.

But I did like how....chilled it was. There was still the odd drama, but for the most part it was fine. It was pretty easy. And I had a lot of respect for the women who compiled so much information, who run fansites for years and made the Monkees seem hip to teenagers in the 90s-2000s instead of having kids see them as some lame old band from the 60s. I love that it was a fandom run by women.

And I’m proud of the place I managed to carve for myself amongst the fandom, especially considering I was a fan post-Davy Jones’ death. I was a newer fan, but I was still welcomed and I still found my place. I had a lot of fun putting together all the posts I did, finding pictures, making screen-captures of my favourite scenes, writing my reviews of the albums and the episodes, and especially hosting the Monkees Awards from 2014-2016. That first year especially was amazing, because so many people took part!! Considering it was such a small fandom, I would say half of all the active Monkees blogs on tumblr at the time took part in that first year, which was so much fun.

I do miss it sometimes. I do feel like my current fandom is more for me though, in the sense that people talk/interact a lot more. It made me sad how the Monkees fandom got from probably the start of 2015-ish, until the end....people spoke less and less. It become more and more about the same old pictures and less and less about discussion. Which, I mean, I can understand in a way because this was an old band, an old TV show, it wasn’t like there was much new stuff to cover. But there seemed to be a lot of people without voices, where even when you’d ask a question, people would reblog the question but wouldn’t give an answer. That always baffled me, that even when prompted and encouraged to talk about their favourite episode or their favourite song/album, they wouldn’t. It was a bit odd to me, but each to their own. Not everyone is a fan in the same way and I totally respect that.

That’s why I enjoy this fandom more, because there is constant discussion. I think the only thing that gets me down is sometimes there is SO MUCH and I want to be a part of it all but it can be impossible to keep up! There are so many insanely smart and observant and articulate people within this fandom and it blows my mind. As much as I love the stunning gifsets and edits and art etc, it’s a good ol’ text post that will get me the most excited. And writing is the only thing I really have to offer, and compared to so many other people here, I know it’s not much. But I have been welcomed in such an amazing way. I know I have been an Emmerdale fan long before there was a fandom here (long before tumblr even existed!), but when the fandom was born I was sort of on the outskirts of it, more a lurker, as I still hung onto my old fandom and I didn’t want to spread myself too thin by being heavily involved in two fandoms. Letting go of my old fandom and throwing myself into this one was the best thing I have done in a long time.

But anyway. This is a lot longer than I planned it to be!!!! I don’t know if anyone would read it, but I’ve been thinking a lot about this stuff since yesterday.

I will always continue to reblog my old Monkees posts (one at 7pm, and one at 2:30am, every single day!!!) because....I don’t want to let go completely. I may not offer anything new, but I still like to hold on a little bit!

If anyone still follows me who still loves the Monkees, and you ever fancy shooting me an ask and chatting about them (the music/the show/the boys themselves!) honestly....that would make me so happy. I may have moved on in many ways but I will never not love them and I will never not love the good years I had in their wonderful fandom!

#mine #fandom rambles #it's fascinating the differences #but i have honestly learnt a lot #and as sad as things turned out in the monkees fandom #i will never forget the good times #and i will never not love the monkees #even if i don't watch or listen to them much anymore #which i want to change really #because it's easy to forget that they were one of my very favourite bands #and like just because i don't post about them anymore #that doesn't change #personal

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