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newtthetranswriter · 6 months

Text

Delayed Mark

Word count: 5539

Paring: Choso x Gn! Reader

Summary: In a world with soulmates you were the only one born without a mark. After 25 years thinking you will never have a soulmate, your mark randomly appears. Only a few weeks later you find your soulmate during one of the worst curse attacks Jujutsu Sorcerers have seen since the Night parade of a hundred Demons.

Warnings: Spoilers for Choso’s character and history in general, slight spoilers for Kenjaku, Mentions of blood and death, if i missed anything let me know.

A/n: Hello people this has been in the works for a long time but finally got inspiration to finish it. The end might seem a bit rushed but I wanted to finally post it. So you aren’t surprised one satosugu is canon, Shoko x Haibara is real and you can fight me on it. Anyway I hope you enjoy and Remember to Hydrate or Diedrate, I’m looking at you @ness-iness . Also requests are open. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

I had to be the least lucky person alive. In a world where everyone has a mark on their body to tell them who their soulmate is, I was born without one. It's extremely rare for something like this to happen. No one knows why or how it happened. But when I was born it was evident that I was unmarked, destined to spend forever alone.

When I was younger it wasn't that bad because I didn't fully understand what it meant. Then when I reached middle school and all my friends started meeting their soulmates, I felt left out. My parents tried to tell me that 'maybe it will show up later' or that 'there is someone out there for you even if you don't have a mark.' They even went as far as to say I didn't need a soulmate to be happy. I wanted to believe them but in our world it can be hard, with happy soulmates everywhere you look.

It became even more apparent when I entered highschool and transferred to Jujutsu Tech. Though the number of people around was small, it was clear that everyone had a soulmate. It felt like fate was rubbing it in my face that I was to be forever alone. And I accepted that I didn't need a soulmate to be happy. Even though I had accepted it, there were still people trying to tell me that having a soulmate was the best thing. I was growing tired of it, until I got to know two fellow sorcerers who had lost their soulmates and believed that even without them they can find a way to be happy.

There's Saturo Gojo, a special grade sorcerer who's soulmate turned his back on sorcerers and set out to wipe out all non-sorcerers. During an attack on Tokyo and Kyoto, his soulmate was killed trying to attack the first years at Jujutsu Tech. Gojo viewed soulmates as pointless because even though he had one and lost him he was still able to be happy with his life.

Then there's Shoko, she was a third year at Jujutsu Tech when her soulmate was killed on a mission he was sent on. It hurt her greatly when she couldn't save him, especially because she is known for using reverse curse technique. She thought while soulmates could be an amazing thing, it was also painful when you lost them and thought maybe things would be better without them.

Don't get me wrong, Gojo and Shoko both loved their soulmates and wouldn't change having met them. They just thought it could be more painful than what it's worth. I agree, having a soulmate must be wonderful but I don't have one so all I've experienced is the pain of watching others be happy with something I can't have. And so Me, Gojo, and Shoko all tried to make the best of everything. We focused on exercising curses and teaching the next generations of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

I'm like an assistant teacher to Gojo, helping out the first years when he's out on missions and just helping with training in general. I would also sometimes help the second years if they needed it.

Right now I am accompanying the first years on a mission to investigate strange deaths. Three people were found dead just inside their homes or apartment buildings, after having reported odd happenings with the locks or door mechanisms. This fact led the higher ups to believe that it was the work of a cursed spirit and sent the first years to figure it out. I was there to make sure none of them died, instructions from Gojo after what happened with the curse womb at the juvenile detention center.

We were currently at Megumi's old middle school, talking with faculty about the men who had died, as they had also attended the school in their youth. I wasn't really focused on the conversation as I was there as more of a body guard then an actual assistant for the first years. I felt it best to let them take care of the questions and figure everything out so they could learn for future experiences.

While Kugisaki and Itadori were poking fun at Megumi for how he used to act in middle school, I started to feel a weird tingling sensation on my left wrist. It was strange, almost like pins and needles. I tried rubbing my wrist to get the feeling to go away but it wasn't working, when I looked at it there was nothing there.

After a few minutes of the weird feeling it went away. I was confused as nothing like this had ever happened before. But seeing as there was no evidence that it happened I brushed it off, if it was important there would be evidence that it happened.

The three students had found out that all of the victims had gone to the same bridge together back when they were in middle school. So they decided to go try and investigate, to see if they could lure out the cursed spirit.

I had joined them at the bridge as I didn't want to risk the curse showing up without me there. As the three tried different things like walking under the bridge, and even throwing Itadori over the side tied to a string (this nearly gave me a heart attack), to lure out the curse, I stood watch. I was completely focused on watching Kugisaki and Megumi pulling Itadori up, so it startled me that my wrist started to feel weird again.

At first it was just pins and needles like before, but then it started to burn a little bit. I lifted my wrist to investigate and was shocked to see a small picture forming on the inside of my wrist. It looked like a drop of water based on the outline. I watched as it became more visible, slowly turning to a blood red color. I was extremely perplexed, what the hell is happening, I thought to myself. I was so focused on the mark that I didn't notice the three teenagers walking up to me.

"Hey Y/n, nothing's happening. Maybe there's another connection or we missed something." Itadori said nearly bouncing over to me. As he got closer he noticed I wasn't paying attention to him. "What are you looking at? Get a scratch or something?" He asked, drawing the attention of the other two.

Megumi leaned over to take a look at my wrist, also confused as to what had me so distracted. "Holy shit" I heard him mutter as he came to the same conclusion that I was still trying to wrap my head around. "When did that show up?" He asked, confusing his classmates.

"I-it just showed up. I was just standing here watching you three to make sure nothing happened and my wrist started to tingle and then burn. After that it just slowly appeared." I explained what little I knew about the situation. "Why would this show up now, I've gone my whole life without it being there why is it here now. I was fine and happy without having to worry about it." I started ranting.

Kegusaki looked at me confused before finally asking the question that perplexed her and Itadori. "What are you talking about and why does Fushiguro know about it?"

Knowing I was probably feeling too many emotions to explain anything, Megumi spoke up. "It's complicated and right here probably isn't the best place to explain it." We then met up with our diver at a small convenience store. I had almost completely shut down from the sudden appearance of my soul mark.

While we were at the convenience store the first years were still trying to figure out what to do to trigger the curse. After a few minutes of getting nowhere Kugesaki got tired of the topic of conversation.

"We are getting nowhere with this. Let's change the topic for a second." The redhead said, turning to me. "What's up with you? What happened while we were on the bridge?" She was confused yet curious as to what happened. Sure she was being a little pushy about it but that's how she is.

Megumi moved in front of me to try and deflect the questions, and get back to the assignment. "Let's focus on the curse that's killing people, Kugesaki." As he said this Kugesaki rolled her eyes.

"Come on Fushiguro, they're here to supervise and make sure none of us die. If their so thrown off by what ever happened, we all need to be made aware." She said making a valid point.

As Megumi tried to say something else I put my hand on his shoulder and stepped forward. He looked at me concerned but he knew that I wouldn't say anything I didn't want to. "What happened on the bridge that threw me off is, my soul mark appeared. I've lived 25 years without one and was fully prepared to live without it. I don't know what caused it to suddenly appear because if I had a soulmate it would have been there when I was born. I'm still able to watch over you guys, it just startled me." I explained hopefully calming their nerves. "I'm not worried about it, it's probably nothing. Let's just focus on figuring out what's going on with this cursed spirit." Itadori nodded but still looked confused and Kugesaki looked pleased with the explanation.

As I finished explaining what happened, one of the students from the middle school pulled up on a bike with a young woman asking to talk to Megumi about the weird deaths. The young woman explained that there was a sort of ritual to go out to the bridge. She had also informed Megumi that his sister had done the test of courage as well. Being even more determined to stop this curse, with his sister’s life at stake, we all headed back to the bridge.

After doing the steps to summon the curse, it seemed we had entered the curse’s domain. As the students began to fight the curse a strange green round curse appeared behind us. When the initial confusion wore off, Itadori offered to take the hideous curse on by himself while the other two delta with bridges curse.

While the two fights occurred Kugisaki was forced close to the edge of the barrier. I watched in shock as two hands reached through and pulled her out of the barrier. The green curse exclaimed something about his brother being there and rushed out of the barrier. Megumi took charge of the situation and ordered Itadori to go after the curse and assist Kugisaki. I would have stepped in but I had an odd feeling about the curses outside of the barrier. Like in some distant way they weren’t normal curses. I couldn’t react.

I was only able to watch as Megumi was able to finish off the cursed spirit that was cursing people. The only problem was the barrier didn’t dissipate. As I was about to ask if he was sure he finished exercising the curse, a more humanoid curse fell from the ceiling. Taking a defensive stance ready to take on the curse, as it appeared to be a much higher grade than the previous curse. Megumi stepped in front of me.

“I’ll handle this, You were only sent here to keep us from dying. You just wait, if it looks like I’m done, go ahead and step in. It’s not a good idea for you to be using your cursed energy for battle right now.” He said summoning Demon Dog: Totality to help him in the fight. He made a good point, my cursed technique was better for defense and recovery. I could create a simple barrier around myself or someone else that was similar to Gojo’s infinity, but could still be broken with enough force. I am also able to use the reversed curse technique on others, not as efficiently as Shoko but still enough to keep someone on death's door from dying while waiting for Shoko. It made sense for me to wait, my techniques took a lot of energy, and the few offensive abilities I had were not suited for close combat. So I watched waiting for a moment that I would be needed.

The fight between the special grade and Megumi went on for a while. There were a few points where I almost jumped into the fight but was stopped by the admittedly over confident teenager. Eventually he was able to exercise the curse and retrieve Sukana’s finger. He collapsed shortly after as the barrier disappeared around us. I immediately went to work healing his more major injuries, as he eventually passed out on the ground.

A few minutes after the dark haired teen passed out the other two students hobbled on to the scene. “Oh my god, is he dead?” Itadori asked, looking at his friend passed out on the ground. This comment received a smack to the back of his head from Kugisaki as she quickly explained he was probably passed out and that I wouldn’t have let him die. He then noticed the cursed object sitting on the ground not far from Megumi and went to pick it up. “Do you want me to carry this since you’re busy healing Fushiguro?” He asked. As I was about to tell him he could as long as he didn’t eat it, a mouth formed on the palm of his hand consuming the finger.

I rolled my eyes as he started to defend himself, trying to explain it was Sukana who did that and he didn’t mean too. “It’s fine, Itadori. Next time I’ll just carry it. Now help me get Megumi up and back to the road.” I said moving to stand up, deciding it was time we head back to Jujutsu tech.

It’s been about a month since the incident at the bridge, and since the mark on my arm appeared. For the most part I’ve ignored it, but when I see it I struggle not to spiral into a long train of questions as to why it randomly appeared, and what triggered it. Shoko proposed that it may have something to do with the two cursed wombs Itadori and Kugisaki killed. She suspected after performing autopsies on the corpses, that they were somehow two of the death paintings that were stolen during the sister school exchange event. She told me that it was possible that the third one was also fused with a human and incarnated into a living being, and it happened to be my soulmate. This thought concerned me, My soulmate was possibly a deformed human corpse fused with a cursed object, great.

Though it wasn’t any worse than the idea Saturo had. He had told me with a straight face that it took 25 years for my soulmark to appear because my soulmate hadn’t been born yet and they were probably a couple weeks old at this point. I know he was joking because one, many soulmate pairings had massive age gaps and the older party still had their mark at birth, and secondly because as soon as he saw the look of disgust on my face he burst out laughing his ass off.

I was glad that even though jokes were being made, Gojo and Shoko weren’t pushing me away for getting my soulmark. They treated me no differently, after all they had once had their own soulmates with them, even if it was far too short of a time for their liking. And don’t get me wrong I still have a distaste for the thought of soulmates, but for the first time in my life there is actual hope. Maybe it was just a mistake in the universe and whatever gave soulmarks was like shit missed one and fixed it, or maybe Shoko is right and my soulmate is an incarnated cursed object. Who knows but hopefully I find them soon and can experience the joy I’ve witnessed so many times over, even if it’s only for a short moment.

Timeskip to shibuya arc

It’s been a few weeks since my soulmark appeared and I can’t help but feel anxious. Part of it is the excitement of finally having a soulmate but the other part is things have been getting worse in the Jujutsu community. With suspicion of a traitor at the kyoto school, the first years were requested to investigate. The problem with that was the suspected traitor was nowhere to be found and the trail went cold.

Just over a week later all hell broke loose at a transit station in Shibuya. Many sorcerers were dispatched to wait as back up in case Gojo was unable to handle the citation. I had been waiting with Nanami, Ino and Megum when we were told to enter the barrier. Not long after entering, the shouts of Yuji Itadori could be heard throughout the veil. Deciding a change of plans, we met with Itadori and were informed that Saturo had been sealed by the special grade curses that had organized the attack.

While Nanami went to speak with Ijichi, the rest of us went to look for a way to dismantle the barriers. Currently Megumi and Itadori are fighting the curse user who had the objects creating the barrier, and me and Ino are trying to fight the other two on top of the building. We were given a shock when the man Ino was battling turned into Toji Fushiguro, gaining all the power of the dead sorcerer killer. When we thought things couldn’t get worse Ino was taken out and thrown off the side of the building, knowing I didn’t stand a chance in a fight against Toji I jumped hoping Megumi or Itadori would think of a way to save both of us.

My prediction was right as one of Megumi’s shikigami caught me and Itadori managed to catch the unconscious Ino. When we landed, the boys told me that the barrier keeping sorcerers out was dismantled. Assessing the situation I came up with a plan that should help us greatly.

“Ok here’s what’s gonna happen. Megumi and I are going to stay here while I heal Ino enough that he can be moved safely. Itadori you are gonna go try and find wherever Gojo is sealed in Shibuya station. Once I’m sure Ino is safe to move, I’ll follow after itadori to help him out, and Megumi will take Ino to Shoko so she can finish healing him.” I said, causing both boys to look at me in shock. It was a rarity that I would take charge of a situation but there was no time to freeze up right now. Becoming focused on the task of healing my coworker I ignored the boys trusting they will follow instructions.

After about ten minutes I was confident that Ino would be fine to move, so I sent Megumi off to find Shoko while I went after Itadori. On my way to the station I passed Inumaki using his speech to help control the crowds and protect them from the mutated humans. I stopped for a few minutes to offer help in restoring his throat so it wasn’t too damaged from his technique and then went back to going after Itadori.

A few minutes after entering the train station, I started to hear the sound of running water. I also noticed that the area I was in was completely destroyed, thinking the two things may be connected to Itadori. I followed the sound and path of destruction. As I got closer to the bathroom I noticed a large amount of water on the floor that was tinted pink from what I’m guessing is someone’s blood. Turning towards the men’s restroom I saw a familiar head of pink hair slumped against the wall.

“Shit, Itadori are you alright?” I received no response. I kneeled down not caring that my pants would become soaking wet, I checked his pulse with a sigh of relief that he was still alive. Assessing the damage I knew that I would have to get the bleeding in his abdomen to stop or at least slow down a bit, before I could go after the fuck who hurt my student. I began using my reversed curse technique on the boy, focused on hopefully healing him enough that Sukana doesn't see a need to make an appearance.

As I finished healing what I could, I noticed a strange feeling in my gut. It was almost like I was anxious or scared of something. It made no sense, sure I was worried for my friends and students, and the safety of all the non sorcerer's around during this horrible attack, but this feeling was weird. The feeling was almost like it was coming from someone else. Brushing it off, not having time to deal with this, I moved to follow the wet bloody footprints leading away from the bathrooms, assuming they belonged to whoever or whatever did this to Itadori.

Rounding the corner as the footprints became harder to follow, the feeling in my gut got worse and an emotion I could only describe as self loathing joined the anxiety and worry. I was even more confused, I had heard before that when close to your soulmate there is a chance to feel their emotions but why on earth would my soulmate be in a place like this hating themself. Once again hoping it was just my imagination I continued my search. I stopped for a second as I started to hear mumbling coming from a little alcove just in front of me along the wall.

“I almost killed him.” I heard the voice say. I could tell whoever it was, was distressed. “How could I almost kill my own brother?” The voice kept ranting, now I was concerned, this person almost killed their own brother and was now sitting in the deepest reaches of a train station overrun with curses and mutated humans, what was wrong with them.

I approached the alcove with caution, if this person nearly killed someone they could be extremely dangerous. “Hey, sorry to bother you, but are you Ok?” I asked as I got close enough to see a man, probably in his early to mid twenties curled up on himself. He had medium length hair pulled up in two messy buns at the back of his head, he was also wearing a white robe with a purple vest. I couldn’t quite make out his face as it was buried in his knees but as I got closer to him I could feel the copious amounts of cursed energy flowing off him. It wasn’t as intense as Gojo or Okkotsu, but he was definitely special grade.

After a few seconds, he jumped slightly looking up at me for only a moment before going back to his rambling. It’s like he didn’t even register that I asked a question. When he looked at me I could see the long black line across his face, to some it may have been an odd feature but to me it made him look more handsome. It may be weird to say but looking at this person curled in on himself with messy hair mumbling about almost killing someone, I couldn’t help but notice he was attractive. It also didn’t help that the longer I kneeled in front of him the more I felt emotions of anxiety and doubt.

I tried speaking to him again. “Are you ok? Is there anything I can do to help?” The anxious feelings were becoming almost too much for me to handle. If they were coming from this man infront of me I needed to calm him down soon or we would both be having a breakdown. “Just talk to me for a second, I want to make sure you’re not hurt.” That comment seemed to reach him as he stopped mumbling, looking at me and making eye contact.

He stayed frozen looking at me with those beautiful hazel eyes, it was like he was in a trance. I was about to speak again when I decided that a good way to calm him down if I really was feeling his emotions would be doing the opposite, projecting my emotions to my soulmate. If he is the reason behind the blood drop mark on my wrist, sending positive feelings should help him relax. To my surprise as soon as I started to calm myself to a relaxed point, I could see his face settle, he no longer looked like a kicked puppy but more a confused child.

“What did you do to me?” Was the first not mumbled sentence out of his mouth. I looked at him for a moment trying to decide how to explain what I had just figured out.

I settled for smiling at him before explaining gently what just happened between us. “We are soulmates, two people destined to be together. We both have a mark to represent each other somewhere on our body, like this” I showed him my wrist as I explained it all. He looked at the blood drop for a second before he moved his arm to show me his wrist. In the exact same spot was a sphere that looked fairly similar to the barriers I can create around myself.

“So that’s what this weird mark is, Mahito tried to tell me it was nothing and to ignore it.” He spoke explaining his knowledge of the mark. I was unsure of who this Mahito was but it seemed whoever it was, was trying to hide soulmates from him. I was slightly confused how a man in his twenties didn’t know about soulmates, but that was a question for later.

Smiling at him I continued my explanation. “In addition to the marks, when soulmates are close to each other they can feel each other's emotions and strong emotions can influence the other. That's what I did, your feelings of anxiety and doubt were becoming too strong for me to stay focused so I calmed down my own feelings enough to help calm you down.” He nodded at the explanation, looking to the side for a moment before looking back. I could tell he was still a little anxious, whether that was because of finding out about soulmate, or what happened before I found him. I was unsure but I was going to figure it out. “Now that you’ve calmed down a bit do you mind telling me what happened? Why are you hiding in this alcove?” I asked as gently as possible not wanting to send him into another panic attack.

He paused for a second before he started to explain. “I almost killed my little brother. I didn’t know he was my brother when we started fighting but when I was about to deliver the final blow I just knew he was my brother. It was the same feeling I got when my other brothers were killed. I can’t kill my brother even if he was the one to kill our other brothers. I hurt my brother and I have to make up for that. I have to protect him.” He started rambling again, not in the mumbling manner I found him in but it was hard to follow what he was saying. “He almost died because of me, and now he’s probably bleeding out because I hurt him, because I didn't realize who he was sooner.” That sentence caught my attention.

I remembered what led me to this spot, to finding him. Placing my hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Slow down for a second, who and where is your brother?” I asked hoping to not get the answer I assumed was coming.

“Yuji Itadori is my little brother. He's in the men’s bathroom.” He answered the question and I could tell he was about to start rambling again. Squeezing his shoulder again I drew his focus back to me.

Pushing away my concern for the fact my soulmate was working with the curse’s that organized the attack. “He’s okay, I was actually looking for him earlier and found him in the bathroom. I was able to use my reverse cursed technique to stop the bleeding and keep him from dying. But what did you mean by he’s your brother, he never talked about having any siblings? Also he killed your other brothers?” I tried to reassure that Itadori was okay, but also asked for clarification. As far as I knew Itadori’s only family was his grandfather who passed away shortly before he became a sorcerer.

He looked at me shocked that I knew who he was talking about. “Thank you. And I don’t know how to explain how he’s my brother, I just know he is. I have such a strong connection with my brothers. I felt when Yuji and Nobara Kugisaki ended the lives of my brothers Eso and Kechizu a few weeks ago, and I felt that same feeling when I was about to kill Yuji for revenge.” He explained in the best way he could.

I nodded in understanding, he attacked Itadori in order to get revenge for his brothers, who I’m assuming were the two curses Itadori and Nobara fought at the bridge. Thinking about it they did say that when they finished off the curses they didn’t disintegrate like a normal curse and were just bodies as if they had killed humans. If that thing was this person's brother then what are they and why does he look so normal. “I can tell you’re confused, I’m assuming you probably were there when Yuji fought my brothers and are wondering what I am.” He was right, but how could he read me so well? I just nodded at him to continue. He went on to explain that he was a cursed object for 150 years until the attack on Jujutsu tech when he and two of his brothers were stolen. He explained that Mahito the patch faced curse, used his technique to give them bodies and use them as tools to fight sorcerers. He briefly explained that they sided with the curses because his brothers wouldn’t have been accepted by humans for the way they looked and he would have rather not had to help the curse who created him.

“What do you mean by helping the curse that created you? Didn’t you say you were a cursed object for 150 years, wouldn’t the curse who made you be exercised by now?” I asked, interrupting his explanation.

“The curse that made me is called Kenjaku, he was once a normal human who used his innate technique to transfer his brain to others to control them. 150 years ago he took over Noritoshi Kamo, using him to experiment on my mother who was able to carry the child of a curse. He tried nine times to get a living specimen but only received nine cursed objects that received the name Death paintings, I was the first one.” He explained his creation. As he was about to continue and explain how he was supposed to be helping Kenjaku in this day and age there was loud rumbling around us.

I stood up quickly pulling him from the alcove looking around. The building looked like it was shaking. “As much as I’d love to keep chatting, I think we should probably get out of here.” I turned to him before I started to pull him in the direction of the exit.

“Wait, we have to get Yuji, we can’t leave him down here.” I heard behind me.

“Look if Yuji is still down here than Sukana has probably taken over and if that’s the case he'll be fine.” i tried to explain, but the look on his face showed he was still concerned. “Listen, I know you want to make it up to him but you can't do that if we get crushed by a collapsing train station. As soon as we get out of this we will go find him I promise. You can trust me, I'm your soulmate after all, I’ll support you through this…” I wanted to address him by name but I realized in all of his explanations he never once told me his name, then again I never told him mine so it wouldn’t have been a fair trade. Continuing to pull him out of the station I decide it’s better late than never. “By the way I’m Y/n Y/l/n, and what can I call my handsome soulmate?” I asked him, feeling him stumble at the compliment.

“Uh Choso. My name is Choso Kamo.” He said as we exited the train station. Finally knowing my soulmate's name felt amazing for some reason. It was probably due to the years of thinking it would never happen but I knew that no matter what this crazy world throws at us next we will handle it together.

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garbage--account · 10 months

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Too much thoughts going on in my head...

Today, I had a mental breakdown, as it occurs more and more often to me nowadays.

Too much information, too much stress, too much work, too much deadline, too much heat, too much drama, too much people getting on my nerves, too much ....

Too much was going on in my head. So much that I couldn't even think or concentrate. As I had so much too do and so little time to proceed, i could literally feel anger and sadness in my throat and a sort of fever forming on my forehead. I knew I was at my ultimate limit. My job was asking me efficiency, knowledge, availability, reliability, but all I could respond was aggressivity, disdain, sarcasm and antisocial behaviour.

As i was reduced to tears in the bathroom, i suddenly realized that i will turn 24 this month. It made me feel pathetic. Childhood and teenagehood was long behing me, though here I am having a temper tantrum like those obnoxious spoiled kids that couldn't have candy from their moms, right in the middle of a supermarket.

People says we glow up when we get older, on every aspect. I glowed down, for sure. I am now definitly ten thousand worst that i was in my moodiest days of the rebellious phase. I can do better, i know i did better before. Younger me couldn't even care less about drama, toxic people, of what we could say about her, bad news that didn't concerned her : she was focused on her work, on her exams, on her friends, on her future. She always managed to have good results without mentally scaring herself and to do what brought to her joy. Now me is head first in the drama, stuck with unsufferable colleagues and boss, always more work to do, with no time and space to do it properly, blames everything and every mistake on others, on lack of time, on lack of justice, on lack of sleep, on lack of rest, she absolutly can't deal with criticism, she's borderline insane.

When too much is too much, i sometime wonder what happens if i die : Will they feel sorry to push me so far? Will it teach them a lesson the hardest way? Will they not do it again? Will my parents and friends hate them afterward? Will they even care? Does it hurt when you die? Do i get to really rest when i die? What would my funeral cost? Will dad and mom still stand after that? Will i get to do what i want somehow?

Thing is, i don't really want to die. I just think of death, not necessarily mine (even if i don't expect living that old), nor theirs. I just want a break, a pause, a really long pause, from everything. Somewhere, i don't know anymore where, i heard that those people with depression with suicidal thoughts often doesn't really want to die but just that everything stops, while they tryna get back on their feet.

I can relate with that, but i have no depression. I think i haven't. I don't really want to make sure. I can have dark and heavy thoughts one moment, and being the most silly, happy, lightheaded person ever the next. Most of the time, i am emotionless inside. I am not enough sad and desesperate to call myself depressed, but not enough well and balanced to say that i am ok.

There is so many reasons for me to be happy, or at least cheerful, yet i feel no satisfaction, no contentment. I have certainly enough days off to be rested and to have fun, yet i have no peace of mine, never. Even when i know there is nothing to do today, tomorrow and the day after, i still feel pressure. My family and friends thinks that i am just lazy when i wake up at ungodly hours. Truth is i woke several times : the first time i felt tired so i closed my eyes again, Second time it was to early to be out out bed and get bored, third time was the perfect time but i just wasn't feeling like doing anything and be with people yet, fourth time i got lost in my train of thoughts again, mind so heavy i couldn't even get up, fifth time i was masterbathing (not because i am corny, but just because), sixth time i was finally up 'cause had too pee. Despite this long ass beauty sleep, i find hazy and tired, my mind empty after my brain exhausted itszlf. I spend the rest of the day "napping" with open eyes on the couch.

I suspect something might be wrong in my head but am afraid to reach out at this point. When i tell at work that i cannot do anymore more than i do, they answer by "it's just a busy time", " it will be calmer next time", "we already help you on whatever we can", "we all have our problem". When i tell about this with the doctor, he answers "try to talk with your manager about this". When i tell my family and friends that i have it rough, they answer "me too lol", "could be worst", "why don't you leave then?". I feel like speaking to walls, sending me back my echo. How can I tell if something is wrong with me or the way i am treated if everybody seems fine with it? I feel like if i am actually reaching out a professional, i will be wasting their (and my) precious time. Do i even want to get help?

So i guess i have to assume that i am being just dramatic and just need to grow up ... finding a way to find my own peace of mind, discovering who i am by myself, starting living on my own without help or support. But i don't have time to look after that. This existence is going at bullet train speed and i have to catch up as my life is running away from me.

Also, I have too much going on in my head right now ...

#personal post

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booksandchainmail · 1 year

Text

Pale 7.8 extra

Interesting, I think this is the first extra material we've had that is just normal text? (ie not in-universe writings, not multimedia)

Very interested to get to see more of Lucy's mom. So far we have her meeting Avery's parents... I wonder if Verona's dad was invited? Also curious if this is just a general getting to know child's friend's parents meeting, or if they want to talk over specific concerns

We were friends, before, as much because of the girls putting us in close proximity as anything.

I hadn't thought of Verona's mother as being friends with Lucy's, it's never come up before. Though I know my parents didn't remain close to any people they spent time with because I was friends with their children as a kid

“Don’t even get me started on work schedules,” Brett told her.

Taken by itself, nothing Verona's dad is saying would necessarily be a red flag, but combined with everything we've already seen of him it bothers me. Immediately going into complaining about work when asked what he does, the grousing about Verona that doesn't seem lighthearted to me...

“Is she getting along with either of the two more?” Connor asked. He looked at Kelsey, who frowned.

don't dig for information like that! If there was something going on, let her tell you in her own time. Also, if Avery was dating one of the others, and they weren't out either, this would be a great way to tip off their parents.

It’s like her skin crawls if she’s in my company for more than five seconds, she runs off to her room or leaves the house at the next opportunity.

now this one is a red flag

“This was weeks of moments,” Brett said. “I was looking things up and thinking about oppositional defiant disorder.”

of course you were

I can’t talk to her about my work, basic household needs, school and homework…

notably absent from this is her own interests. Why would your work be the first thing you think about talking with your child about?

So clever in many ways that she outsmarted her way out of doing well in school.

I consider this a valid strategy, if sometimes self-sabotaging

"She took up habitual lying…” “It’s that imagination,” Jasmine said. “She had no outlet. She stopped art, and she had nothing, so she started telling stories.”

...hmmm. Well obviously she can't do this now, and doesn't seem to need it, but I'm curious what was going on with that, if it was really just an over-active imagination.

Also, man but everything Brett says about Verona is framed in a negative light

Except, I suppose I’m lucky she’s slow to develop. She’s the most kid-like of the three, I think. A late bloomer.

hahahahahaha

“When she and Lucy were old enough to know how to navigate the web but young enough to not know about internet history, let’s just say the searches I saw raised a few eyebrows. Only when Verona was there.”

yeah that tracks. Both for Verona's character and for that age range

“I thought about one of those wilderness survival retreats. You know those? Send the kid out into the woods to rough it, disconnect from technology and outside influences, make them build their own fires, teach them self-reliance and discipline, respect for authority?”

oh hate that. And I liked camping as a kid! But why the fuck are you bringing "respect for authority" into perfectly good outside time

He said that as much as I or Lucy might want to look at this as a resolution, a release, it isn’t. All of that stress and worry and lack of resolution is still there. It’s not fixed or better. She’s certainly not happier or healthier in the wake of it.

:( I'd like to think she got some closure from it... but she certainly isn't less stressed, though there are obviously extenuating circumstances

“I wanted to ask about Julie Hardy,” Connor said. “Going back to the subject of influences-”

...and this would be the catch with Avery's dad. And also the reason why Ms. Hardy's been so careful about interacting with her.

I was awkward and struggled and I tried on a lot of different hats and explored a lot of different identities as a way of diagnosing and trying to fix what was wrong with me. When it was just regular puberty.

“Avery has expressed some concerns to her mom. I was hoping to get a clear picture about why, but… Brett’s take is only half a picture, isn’t it?”

good that they're talking about this, and not taking him at face value

Verona takes in stuff and digests it privately, and her mom’s similar to her in that. The thought processes behind the scenes can be impenetrable sometimes.

hmm. Not sure what I have to say here, but I want to leave a not for myself about similarities between Verona and her mother. Wonder if that's making things with her dad worse?

“I just-” Jasmine started, stopped, shook her head. “If she’s going to be pushed to take action, I want it to be later. When she’s equipped, educated, grounded and secure in herself. Change the world, you know?”

I have some bad news for you about what's going on this summer

“And if you don’t have those things, that grounding, education, preparation, what happens? Another Paul incident.”

or considerably worse

OH! New section! Lore section! Murderer section! Going to analyze this excruciatingly:

Non-italics likes John, which narrows it down to the Kennet Others (no one else knows him). "Everything falls into place" so there's more than just power at stake? Both Kennet and "the rest of us" are taken care of (wording seems to imply once italics takes the seat). Who is that? The rest of the Kennet Others? There's not all that many of them.

Hmm! “The girls. Miss picked some scarily good ones." This would imply to me that Miss was not part of their group. I'd already been leaning towards her not being involved, but this is further confirmation.

italics doesn't want to kill them. General antipathy to violence (would be weird for someone aiming for a war seat) or good feelings to them in particular?

italics was also opposed to the school. OH! finally answer to something someone asked me way back when I was speculating about why Miss picked the girls: if she was trying to keep them controlled, why give them access to the school. Well besides the fact that I'm less suspicious of Miss now, going to the school gives them access to knowledge and power that isn't routed through the murder suspects.

"playing our parts"... kinda makes me think Fae, but that's a tenuous connection. And "we all"... so there's more than just these two.

Very ominous all over!

#booksandchainmail reads pale #pale #wildbow

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littlewiseeyes · 4 days

Text

I accept that co-parenting just isn't going to be as I want it to. Shit I never wanted to have to co-parent on the first place. But that doesn't take away from me trying. I just wish it was met with the same energy.

He's the one who's able to do more, I do the most. I get tired, he's not here. I need to talk, he's not listening. I need some sex lol he won't even do that.

I don't like our relationship. It's supposed to be a function co parenting between two friends who've known each other for nearly 2 decades. I've known this man for half my life now. You'd think he'd be here for me with all the history. He hurts my feelings more than anything else. This is the man that used to make me smile, laugh, feel good about myself, inspire me and teach me. Now he angers me, saddens me, doesn't seem to understand me. I hate this.

I still love him. That's the big reason I still dealt with him all this time. I didn't think we'd ever get to this point. Imagine I married this man in 2014? I'd like to never go divorce. We'd probably have been divorced by now. Pregnancy revealed to me a lot about him, about myself, about life. He thinks some of my current behaviors and feelings are from not experiencing carrying my baby as I wanted to. That's far from the truth.

Am I upset that things didn't go as I dreamed and desired? Yeah. It's a pain I think will ever go away. Not even when I have another baby and that pregnancy is everything I wanted. I will definitely express my joy and thankfulness. But naturally my wishes that my first baby got to experience me the way I'll be next time will be there.

I'm not basing how I move forward as of now on so much of the past. I took accountability, I learned and applied the lessons, I'm doing the best I phuqing can. This mf'er rarely gives me credit.

I just sit with myself sometimes like, this who you chose to let nut in you. Knowing him, I really thought it'd be a lot better. But I can't lie and say I didn't fear things might go this way. Painful.

Is there such a thing as co-parenting therapy? Lol seriously though, we might need to go. I'm just not sure how serious he'd take it.

I promise myself I'm not going to cry about this anymore in the next year. Just like how last year I said I'll get over the jealousy I felt. The year before that I said I'm not going to rage with anger anymore. The year before that one I said I'm going to make the changes I need to. These things that I speak come about time after time. I'm thankful for this. In 2025 I'll be over it, it being my baby's father just isn't going to go about this whole thing as he should. Man is approaching 40. I'm accepting the shit lol

I'm just going to be the best momma I can be. I'd love to have another child. But that won't happen until I get myself together. And that's if my body is blessed to carry again or even conceive. It's still my desire to carry a beautiful, good, considerate, smart, kind, spiritual man's baby someday. I want our love to be so strong everyone around us feels it. I want us both to be in great health. I want to learn many things from him, but that he is also teachable. I want the phuqing we did to create our child be absolutely amazing, literally the best sex we'll have. I want to own a gorgeous garden full of food and flowers. In the floral area is where we explore one another regularly. Then after he plants his seed and I grow our pretty plant, I want to give birth right there in the garden we created them in. I want binural beats to play, trusted women that blessed me on my journey are surrounding me, praying for me, my beautiful man stroking my hair and kissing on me, I want the energy to feel good and the spirits of my ancestors to surround me. Especially momma's spirit, I want to feel as if she's right there. She will be 😌❤️🙏🏽✨

I can still dream and still wish for beautiful things in my life. I can still have faith and wonders. I can still manifest what my heart truly desires. My reality does say I'll be sad or angry forever. I've forgiven, I've changed and now I cope. I do what I should to my best capabilities. My co-parenting relationship isn't the worst thing. But I do believe a better thing is still in the works for me. The future is mine, should I choose to create it. I can have what I want if I wait till when I truly need it. In due time. For now? I change so that I'll be ready for all the good coming my way.

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memoirsofawildchild · 1 year

Text

i honestly forgot about this blog for the longest time. the more i am talking to my younger brother & husband the more i am realizing my childhood was far from idyllic & definitely wasn't exactly "the wild time" other people talk about when they discuss their childhoods.

i've got trauma from my childhood that runs far deeper than i could have ever imagined. from my parents being abusive, to having an alcoholic father figure & absent father to having my dad move in with a woman who refuses to take her medications. to my dad deciding that it's better for him to literally not go to work, for the military, in a time of war & then blaming that on my stepdad. to losing any sense of stability that i ever had until i married my husband, even though our life is far from stable.

i can't believe i never noticed it before but it definitely makes sense, when i started dating my husband i feel like i did it to get out of my mother's home. i did it because i needed to feel loved & wanted, something i didn't feel at home.

maybe i should go to therapy, who knows? the one time i tried therapy, when i had an actual medical condition requiring it, i was told that i wasn't there for the reason i thought i was, which didn't help anything so i stopped going.

i've got daddy issues that seem to keep coming up. makes me wonder if my husband & i are a match made in heaven with our parent issues. both of us dealt with toxic, narcissistic parents, my dad & his mom & sometimes i wonder if my mom didn't cause some trauma too. i'm trying my hardest to break the cycle & teach my children better than i was.

living more than 10,000 miles away from them has definitely put my childhood into perspective. i've completely cut contact with my dad, i haven't talked to him since my five year old was less than a month old, minus the time he called my grandpa when i was there & i had to talk to him. he basically told me thank you for being there for his dad when my grandma had just died, like he wasn't also my grandpa.

i'm going to definitely have to sit down & actually think about what i want to write here, maybe typing it out in a journalistic way will help me. since ya'know therapy here in japan is practically a no go. we'll see.

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Intro and masterlist

✨about me ✨

this is a mature blog, I trust all minors to be responsible and avoid everything marked NSFW!

NSFW sideblog: @pervstash-spencer

Hi! my name is emily, I'm 23 she/they

Capricorn, bisexual, non-binary, autistic, and I have fibromyalgia ✌🏻 overall just a fun time y'know.

ao3

i love: supernatural, star trek, marvel movies, criminal minds, this is us and grey's anatomy !!

Accepting requests for Spencer Reid x Reader fics currently

all my tags are listed below if you want to see other posts about said fics, also here is my Spotify for the fics <3

Dad!spencer Masterlist

First times Masterlist**

all links to my fics below the cut!

Updated: July 28th, 2021

** for smut

~~ for angst

Spencer Reid x Reader fics

Hypothetically**~ Ao3 | Tumblr -- 27 chapters, complete. 89k

reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast.

friends to lovers, case of the week style story

touch me**~ Ao3 | Tumblr 5.8k

Spencer is incredibly touch-starved and hard on himself since coming home from prison. Luckily, the medical examiner in this small town is really good at reading people, and exactly what he needs.

amethyst you so much P1 Ao3 | Tumblr 6.4k

Spencer has had a crush on Y/N since she started working at the bau. She only ever works the night shift after a case, handling all the aftermath gracefully. one night, Spencer stays back and they strike up a conversation about rocks, causing their feelings to dig a little deeper.

of quartz i will P2** Ao3 | Tumblr 6K

after 2 years of dating, Spencer decides it's finally time to get Y/N something to match her Amethyst bracelet.

Amoreena**~ Ao3 | Tumblr Completed 83k

Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Seven* Tumblr WIP

Summary: Spencer’s been married to Y/N for 7 years now, they have 7 children together and each one is going through something different. Spencer’s always wanted to be the best dad, now he gets to figure out how to be.

the guy at the rock show Ao3 | Tumblr 5.6K

Y/N lost their parents when they were 17, finding a new home and solace in Penelope Garcia and taking the Garcia name. They're the top forensic specialist in D.C, in a band and they drive a motorcycle... not to mention they are madly in love with the cute doctor who works with their sister.

journey to Camelot** Ao3 | Tumblr 3.8K

When Penelope introduces Spencer to online games, he expects to be spending his nights alone. Yet, somehow every time he comes back from a bad case, he logs on to chat with the ever so lovely user FairlyGwen and getting a lot more than just a helpful tip from her.

Exploration** Ao3 | Tumblr 4.7K

request: season1/2 spencer walking in on reader while she's watching porn in their shared hotel room

Expedition** Tumblr 1.2K

Summary: there's a first time for everything... including joining the mile high club with your boyfriend on the work jet.

10 Days Ao3 | Tumblr 1.4K

it's spencer's first father's day and he's extremely emotional about the little love of his life that he's only just met. he spends the day with his baby, Edwin, and his wife, crying and happy about how wonderful new little lives are.

ain't it fun?** Ao3 | Tumblr Masterlist 11K

reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

I'm not kidding!** Tumblr 6K

Spencer keeps getting little notes from a secret admirer, they're nice and sweet at first as they tease him with their crush until she's sending him notes about all the dirty things she wants to do to him

Perfect Timing** Tumblr 1K

spencer and reader have been spending the last month together in the same hotel room during a pretty brutal case. tension has been rising and she's completely in love with him.

what happens when they both think the other won't be back for a while and they want to shower?

Redamancy** Tumblr 5.4K

the co-op librarian at the FBI Academy has been secretly crushing on the smartest agent in the Bureau, TA, Doctor Spencer Reid, and he's been crushing on her too.

Being Neighbourly** Tumblr 1.9K

Request: reader is Spencers neighbour and she can hear him masturbating every night that he's home how do you have her deal with that?

Professional Hair Dresser (Ph.D)** Tumblr 6.4K

summary: after Spencer's knee injury, he starts visiting a salon every week to get his hair washed

36 Questions to Fall in Love Tumblr 8K

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

New Romantics** Tumblr 23k

Summary: She needs help studying for her Case Exercises at the Academy, He needs a date for the annual Banquet... they just so happen to be neighbours who aren't afraid to lend a helping hand, or in this case, a helping kiss.

Million Dollar Man** | Tumblr WIP 5k so far

summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.

Sugar, Honey, Ice Tea** | Y/N version | 1-4, 5-9, Epilogue 25.6k

Summary: Fix-it-fic: Dr. Y/L/N and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.

Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.

Warnings: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Prison, Prison Violence, Assault, Blood, Depression, Murder, Self-Hatred, Hurt Spencer Reid, Canon-Typical Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Drug Addiction, References to Drugs, Drug Use, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Romantic Tension, Forbidden Love, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Strangers to Lovers, Requited Love, Falling In Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, past abusive relationship, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault

Spencer x Ethan

Ruin it.** Tumblr 5.4K

Summary: Spencer never had sleepovers as a kid, so now that he's an adult he's always sleeping over at Ethan's house, ad he'll take any excuse to crawl into bed beside him.

Warnings: mutual pining, love concessions, blowjobs, handjobs, anal sex (both top and bottom spencer in this), childhood friends to lovers

400 Celebration fics

Reid Me Tumblr 2.5K

Spencer has noticed a beautiful woman at a spirituality booth at the farmers market every Saturday for almost a whole year now. he finally asks her to give him a reading.

mystery of love Tumblr 700

Spencer surprises his wife with a trip to Italy.

Spy Kids Tumblr 900

Spencer and Y/N's kids think that they are secretly spies and request a mission story before bed.

a father's greatest weakness Tumblr 1K

Princess Y/N is betrothed to the Viking king in an effort by her father to keep the peace between their countries, he doesn't expect her to join in the fight to free Scottland.

Luke x Reader

Best Dad Ever 2.8K

Request: angst with a happy ending, reader and luke have been divorced for a few years but have a child, she tries and tries to fall out of love with him but he's around so often that she can't

Spencer x OC

Sugar Honey Ice Tea** Ao3 | WIP 9/10 chapters complete 25.6K

Fix-it-fic: Dr. Beth Pattinson and Savannah Hayes have been best friends since their medical internship at Bethesda General. When she receives a frantic call that Derek's best friend is being transferred to the prison she works at, an unlikely friendship bubbles.

Eventually falling head over heels for the innocent man.

Intro to Criminal Minds: Why They Did It Ao3 | Tumblr WIP 6K+

Spencer is teaching a 7-week seminar on the most interesting criminal cases, explaining their actions to understand why they took place. Only, not everyone in the audience is a student.

Criminal Minds x Mindhunter AU

Spencer x OC Peggy Carr

Franklin x Reader

Voulez-Vouz** | 3.2k

Summary: in a small town, everyone knows each other… or at least they think they do.

Warnings: porn with plot, smut, Dom reader, Sub!Perv!franklin, making out, teasing, face sitting, oral (female and male), hand jobs, overstimulation, prostate message, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, let me know if I forgot anything.

Chip x Reader

forever is the sweetest con** | 6.2K

Summary: Reader’s dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they’re lucky, they get his daughter’s number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.

Warnings: reader’s mom passed away, mentions of parental death, strangers to lovers, random acts of kindness, mutual pining, falling in love, steamy make-outs, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, sub!chip, food mentions, praise, love confessions.

Raymond x Reader

Alone Together ** | 2.4K

Summary: Raymond moves into a haunted house and ends up sleeping with the ghost who lives there... only he doesn't know that when you fuck a ghost you also become one.

Warnings: details of suicide and murder, blowjobs, pegging, bottom!raymond, top!reader, becoming a ghost, major character death.

Star Trek Masterlist

Star Wars fix it fic

Supernatural masterlist

thanks for all the love, as always,

-Emily <3

500 notes · View notes

greensaplinggrace · 3 years

Note

honestly THANK YOU for saying all that abt baghra bc i thought i was going crazy from not liking her??? bc i haven't read the books and only summaries of them on wiki and like. i dunno why ppl like her actually even in the show bc this guy, her son, is like "i wanna make the world better for us grisha" and she's just like "no." even tho he sees that she's MAKING HERSELF SICK from suppressing her powers! she's literally like in bed coughing in the flashback yet seem much healthier at the little palace. also like after everything, after her disapproval, after the fold, after centuries of waiting for the sun summoner.. he never abandons her. he makes sure she's cares for. he doesn't harm her. and i have to wonder if baghra has ever thanks him for that, for just not leaving her alone. like i dunno how im suppose ro believe aleks is a heartless villain when he still cares for his abusive mom like this. like has baghra even told her she loved him (honestly she reminds me of a classic emotionally unavailable asian parent but maybe that's just me). also im wondering if baghra ever told aleks that he had an aunt.. bc like.. now that u bring up her isolating him it's like hmmmm...

not at me being like alina... why do u trust the bitter old woman who literally beats u with a stick and verbally abuses u every chance she gets.. just bc she showed a bad painting... like.. pls use two braincells to see that who u figured out as his mother... is also using his protection..

like baghra could've upped and left with alina. but no. she stayed bc she knew she was safe under aleks's protection.

alsoim just impressed that after his first friend tried to drown him and harvest his bones... he didn't go into hiding???? he still wanted to make a safe heaven for grisha!!! HE STILL WANTED TO PROTECT GRISHA EVEN AFTER HIS GRISHA FRIEND TRIED TO KILL HIM FOR HIS FUCKEN BONES. like... this is the guy im suppose to believe is the villain???

honestly i feel like part of the reason why LB's plotlines seem so bad and disconnected (and sometimes outright racist but that's another rant) and why darkles is disproportionately more violent and villainous in the later books is bc she didn't expect the darkling to be so popular and wanted to stick with her guns of making him the villain. but also wanted the money from aleks's popularity. but like you can't have ur cake and eat it too.

Well thank you for sending this ask! It's very sweet and very passionate. I'm glad you liked my post! I didn't put as much thought into it as some of my others lol. I kind of just talked. But it was nice to be able to finally talk about some of the problems I have with both her character and the fandom/author's perception of her.

HERE is the post this is referring to, in case anyone's wondering.

👀👀 You've hit the nail on the head for so many things, here!

Baghra is extremely emotionally unavailable, basically to the point of neglect. She's also verbally and physically abusive, traits which I doubt were only reserved for her students and not her son. Baghra claims she would do anything to protect him, but I've known a lot of parents who have that mindset and yet still harm their children because they think it's "good for them".

Aleksander stays at Baghra's side for years, and even when they're opposing each other she's never too far away from him. Idk if you've read the books but he does eventually hurt her. And as much as I don't like Baghra, I think his actions were horrid. But I'm also honestly kind of surprised it took him so long lmao.

Yeah I mean, in terms of isolation, let's not forget that she never wanted to introduce him to his father, either. Baghra's sense of eternity clouds a lot of her judgments on relationships, which means she views most people as dust and therefore teaches her son to as well. The problem with that is that he's a growing child, and he needs those social and emotional attachments for healthy development.

I would bet quite a bit of money that Baghra has either never told him she loves him or she has told him so few times it's practically forgettable.

And everything becomes more complicated because so many of Baghra's actions are understandable because of her life and her history, but the impacts they have on the people around her, especially Aleksander, are permanently damaging. And the fact that that's never gone over in critical depth in the books or how it's glossed over in fandom is just very disconcerting. Like, acknowledging Baghra's failings doesn't mean we're excusing Aleksander's actions, it just means we're holding Baghra liable for her own. Which the fandom should be doing, considering she's the epitome of an abusive parental figure.

And Alina trusting Baghra over Aleksander is even more confusing! Especially in the show!! This is the woman who beat her and abused her and tortured her friends when they tiny little children (and who probably still does so now that they're adults). This is the woman who mocks you and harasses you and insults you on a regular basis. Why does Baghra revealing she's Aleksander's mother make Alina change her mind?! Like fuck, I'd just feel bad for Aleksander. No wonder he kept it a secret, I would too! And that painting is enough evidence?! Really?! A random painting shown to you by this abusive mentor that's been making your life hell. That's what you're going to betray your new lover over?

The friends trying to harvest his bones thing is a good point, too. I think Aleksander, especially show Aleksander, is incredibly idealistic. I think he cares too much for others - those he's deemed worth his care (a sentiment given to him by Baghra). Despite everything she's tried to teach him about hiding and abandoning others and never caring and never doing anything to help or reach out or connect with people, Aleksander still continues to do so. It's likely because he never got it from Baghra growing up, and so is desperate for those emotional needs to be fulfilled elsewhere.

His turning point, when Baghra tells him it was understandable that those kids tried to kill him because the world is such a hard place for them - that's crucial. And the reason it's possible as a motivating factor is because of that idealism and that desire to help and that desire to be everything his mother isn't. Baghra tells him this trauma he just experienced was because of the oppression of his people, and instead of following her lead and accepting that, going into hiding and abandoning everybody to their misery, he goes I can do something about that. I can make it so this never happens again. Which is usually how trauma like that combines with one's core personality traits at a young age, especially when there's none of the essential support systems in place to aid in recovery (ie, the role Baghra should have been filling but wasn't, because she decided to exacerbate the problem instead).

And yeah, one of my biggest problems with the ham-fisted "beating you over the head with a sledgehammer of evil deeds" look-how-bad-this-character-is! portrayal of the Darkling in the later books comes from the impression I get that Bardugo doesn't trust her readers. She's so desperate to have us hate this character and think him an irredeemable villain, not trusting any of her readers to engage critically with a morally gray character, that it feels quite a bit like condescending fucking bullshit. Which ew, I know how to engage with literature, thanks.

She really does seem to look down on a large part of her fandom, and imo, the infantilization of the female characters in her books seems to carry over to her impression of most of her female readers as well. Which is why the Darkling's character arc gets fucking destroyed. But he's still a good cash grab, of course, so she'll shake his dead corpse in front of the fandom for money every time she wants something from it.

Also! Another reason I think her plotlines feel disconnected (I'm sorry Bardugo I respect you as a person, but shit-) is because the writing in SaB is just bad. I mean, nevermind the absolutely nauseating implications of the way she portrays the Grisha as a persecuted group who's situation is never actually fully addressed as it should be, considering Grisha rights is what her main villain is fighting for (imo for a series called the Grishaverse, LB seems to be pretty anti Grisha), but her characters and story alone are just wrong for each other. They don't fit together.

And the ending is one of the main pieces of evidence in that regard! You can’t say the ending where Alina isn’t Grisha anymore is her “going back to where she started” when she’s always been Grisha. She just didn’t know she was Grisha because she denied that part of herself that she was born with.

Alina is reluctant to move forward or change, she struggles with adapting, and she’s very set on the things she’s grown attached to throughout her life. She also has some latent prejudices against the Grisha, and so denies the possibility of being Grisha for those reasons as well.

Alina’s lack of powers in the beginning of her life because she willfully doesn’t learn about them to avoid change versus her lack of powers at the end of the book when she’s accepted them and then they’re stripped away from her by outer forces are two entirely separate circumstances. You can’t make a parallel about lost powers and lack of Grisha status bringing her back to the start when she was always Grisha and she always had powers and she simply refused to come to terms with it because of personal reasons.

The first situation is an internal conflict that indicates a story about growth and a journey of self acceptance. Denying herself the opportunity to learn about her heritage and to find acceptance with a group of people like her because she’s tied to the past and because of the way she was raised is the setup for a narrative that tackles unlearning prejudice and learning how to connect with a part of her identity that was denied her and learning how to grow independent and self assured. It’s the setup for a different story entirely. The second situation is an external conflict that centers around the ‘corrupting influence of power’... for some reason.

In a world where Grisha do not have social, political, or economic power and they are hunted, centering your heroine’s journey of self acceptance and growth around an external conflict about... the corrupting influence of power (in a group of people that don’t actually have any power?!) just doesn’t work. It is literally impossible to connect the two stories Bardugo is trying to push in Shadow and Bone without seriously damaging the main character’s developmental arc.

The only way a narrative like this would work, claiming that she has gone back to where she started, is either a) if the Grisha weren’t actually a persecuted group and instead were apart of the upper class, or b) if the one bad connection between the two instances is acknowledged - that Alina denied a part of herself crucial to self acceptance and growing up, and that losing her powers at the end has also denied her. It is a tragedy, not a happy ending.

Alina suffered because she didn’t use her powers. She grew sick. It was bad for her. This was not a resistance to 'the corruption of power and the burden of greed', it was her suffering because she couldn’t fully accept herself.

Framing the ending as a return to the beginning can’t be done if you don’t address how bad the beginning was for your main character. You brought her back to a bad point in her life. You regressed her. This should be a low point in her arc. It should be a problem that’s solved so she can finish developing organically or it should be something that is acknowledged as a tragedy in it’s own right, for the future the world (the writing) denied her.

This is a ramble and it makes no sense and I’m really sorry, but my point is that Bardugo put the wrong characters in the wrong story. The character arc required for organic development doesn’t match the story and intended message at all. The narrative doesn’t fit the cast. She's got two clashing stories attempting to work in tandem and she ends up with both conflicting messages that fans still can’t comprehend in her writing and an ending that doesn’t suit her main character to such an impossible degree that it’s almost laughable.

So yeah, there's a few reasons why I think the story and the plot feels so bad and disconnected. I hope you don't mind me making this answer so long! 😅 I was not expecting to write this much.

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drdone · 3 years

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things I love about Caleb Widogast:

his love for magic

how excited he gets for books and learning

the passion he has when learning new things

the excitement when Veth learns new spells, especially Message at the beginning

his creativity, both with the ways he makes spells and the ways he interacts and utilizes the spells he already has

like REALLY, changing the mansion to a tower??? changing Bigby's Hand to Cat's Ire??? amazing

and his created spells???? Web of Fire using a cat's cradle? the amber? so cool

and how he uses them? the way he used Programmed Image? the tower and all its beauty and detail?

speaking of details, how detail-oriented and methodical he is

not a single thing in the tower was created without him shaping it. the whole thing was a love letter to his friends, his family, and each part of it was shaped around what they cared about.

and with spell design? and spell casting? he's careful and methodical and patient with it

(also that he doesn't totally brag about it, but he is very proud of it, and that's Fun)

how far he's come. he started this campaign scared, always ready to run, unwilling to get too close to anyone, constantly looking over his shoulder and needing to fix it. he had no intention of getting better, he shouldered all the blame, he was self-destructive. Liam said during the Campaign So Far Talks Machina episode that if Caleb didn't have his goals with fixing what happened with his parents, he didn't know why Caleb wouldn't just end it. He also said that had the meeting with Trent happened earlier in the campaign, before he'd spent all this time with the Mighty Nein, how he would've been darker, more susceptible to temptation and just Astrid and Eadwulf (Eodwulf, whichever) in general and that MEANS something

like! going back and watching the beginning is WILD when you see where Caleb is now. Caleb now??? he's still terrified of Trent, anxious about a lot of things, and hasn't entirely let go of his ideas - but he's starting to take steps. he's finally expressing his anger at Trent and acknowledging that it's not his fault, or at least not only his fault ("He ruined my life! And I fucking helped!"). he was able to talk to Trent, to not hide - yes what Trent said still affected him and did cause him a bit of falling back a few steps, recovery's just Like That sometimes, but after that dinner he did the tower for the first time, he didn't isolate himself, he didn't try to run - he talked to them, he set up the tower, he showed them how much he loves them and pays attention. that's important. he's allowing himself to care - and it's allowed him to grow. he's not only holding on to his plans. there's more there keeping him together. he's able to express that he cares, he's able to vocalize more of what happened, even if it hurts him, and he's likely never going to feel 100% safe, but he sure does feel better with the m9.

his entire journey! it's so good! it's so fascinating! he's come so far! sure, he takes steps backwards - he's literally having his worst fear happening right now, Marion, Yeza, and Luc are in danger and it is partially his fault (though I'd still argue it's Trent's more than anything), but instead of splitting off from them, instead of just running, he's with them. ride or die at this point, for all the m9

he wanted to be a teacher, and still could, honestly. he's very patient with it. he was with Veth. he offered to teach Luc. l i k e.

his curiosity, which is both a blessing and a curse. the obelisk in Eiselcross still makes me laugh

he still uses fire. he's good with it, and you know what? I think him still using it is also partially him taking away Trent's control, especially with creating his own spell???

but also that he switched from evocation to transmutation. he loves creating. and he's so creative. it's so wonderful to watch

his love for Frumpkin and cats in general

sharing Frumpkin as a support animal

he's gotten better with just making jokes in general but his occasional deadpan delivery is still a delight

pranks. he's gotten to the point where he's okay with pranks and being silly

how he does respect every member of the m9 and makes a point to talk with each one of them (Liam's the type after every mission to check in with every companion until you're out of dialogue, I know it)

he's bisexual

boosting his friends in combat and/or taking control of the battlefield (or attempting to at least)

polymorph. in general.

his sibling relationship with Beau, my god, great dynamic

Very Good With Words (thank you Liam O'Brien)

he's so excited about magic. it's so good you guys it's so good

the current dynamic with Astrid and Eadwulf/Eodwulf, it's so fascinating

I know I already said this but his love for cats. it's. so good. so valid.

Eldritch blaest

#my stuff #critical role #cr spoilers #caleb widogast #long post #sorry guys I have Many Feelings about Caleb

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i-love-hobbies · 3 years

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The biggest criticism Lilith's redemption arc gets and Eda's biggest strength

(ft. me getting completely side tracked and wanting a Hooty redemption arc)

Ok, so firstly I wanna talk about real life and then say how it was done in the owl house.

I hate the words "Everyone should get what they deserve." Cause firstly this never happens, secondly, the words are very vague and it opens a window of miscommunication and thirdly, cause in Lilith's case they are focused at, she needs to be hurt in order to change.

There are even people that have said that they are looking forward to watching Lilith suffer (I don't know if I've said it on the internet but I was one of them.)

Revenge has been proven to not make people feel better. And a lot of therapists usually say you need to forgive people. That doesn't mean fix the relationship, it means try to stop wishing they get hurt. Cause the feeling is only hurting you.

Also it's a normal human feeling to be angry, so no I'm not calling people monsters for this. And forgiveness is a hard process that takes a lot of work, but it usually isn't helped by hurting others.

The words people usually use to defend this sentence are:

"Consequences change people's minds or at the very least make them scared of doing it again."

Ok so how about we use this sentence instead, it's short enough and the main mission now is keeping ourselves safe Instead of it being hurting someone, you're still wishing it but it's not the main goal, it's a secondary one.

Well, cause it immediately shows two issues both statements have.

Firstly a friendship with someone that wants to hurt you but is scared of doing so is not a healthy one, cause they'll just try to be sneaky. You can only do it with people that aren't close to you like how the authorities do it towards criminals.

Secondly punishments rarely change people's minds. They've never worked on me, especially when you attack my identity, cause this way you make it even worse. And expecting that you can change someone usually means you're about to fail.

"But we can't get rid of punishments, people will hurt us."

I'm not saying we should. I'm saying our main goal should be our safety and hurting them may happen but it shouldn't be important.

Or better yet:

"Building healthy boundaries to the point where you're not getting hurt anymore, but not going overboard."

Examples:

- You have a friend you see Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday. But on Wednesdays, after work, they usually are very ignorant of your feelings and sometimes joke at your expense. So you stop going out at Wednesdays.

They might never ask why you did it and that's ok, cause you're not getting hurt anymore.

But usually they do ask why? You explain to them the issue with respect, don't call them names.

Some people will change after this and you can get rid of the boundary later on.

Other people may acknowledge this and say it's a good idea, cause they are overwhelmed, but never change.

Other other people may start hurting you even more. You build the boundaries even more, sometimes to the point you cut them out of your life, even if they weren't hurting you intentionally.

Which is completely ok if you can't maintain contact without being hurt.

- Eda's handling of Gwendolyn's cures is another good one. She never called her names or anything. She just made sure that Gwen can't hurt her anymore. Cause it wasn't only the cures. Eda's feelings were always getting ignored. She literally couldn't talk with her about anything other than the curse. Her emotions were getting neglected.

- Eda's handling of Tibbles is also an interesting example.

At first after the scamming she just left him. She couldn't see how he could hurt her.

And in episode 14 she killed him. Cause he showed that he would do anything to murder her dump kids and knew their address. Almost same story with Adegast.

Yes murder in this extreme cases can be a healthy boundary.

Lilith's relationships with the owl fam

King:

King didn't know Lilith was living with them and knows about her neglect.

Luz:

Luz would only stand up for others never for herself which is very unhealthy. I don't know if she forgave Lilith, but I can see her not mentioning it if she hasn't and playing along as a teacher.

"The real mystery is how she can be both so smart and yet so wrong at the same time. Academics, am I right?"

The closest one to her she has roasted like this, is her mentor, who firstly makes people feel safe.

"EDA, You're embarrassing me Infront of my crew." - Raine, after thirty years of not seeing her.

Secondly, she was being a jerk, she was teaching Luz about cards while she was begging for magic lessons and was not getting it for weeks.

"Cards, the paper rectangles that old people think are fun."

Heck, she might even be scared of Lilith. She almost got killed.

So far I don't have a reason to think she likes her. She hasn't really talked with her or about her much.

Eda:

Eda has already shown that she can handle conflicts in relationships. Like in episode 9, where she got Luz into Hexside and everything I already said.

I made an entire post about Eda being too emotional and I still stand by it, but serious situations that have to do with relationships, she usually is very rational and good at handling them. Probably because of the curse making her afraid of her anger and countless people attacking her.

At the beginning of the series Eda probably was expecting that the worst case scenario would be for Lilith to catch her and if Lilith isn't given the time to realise what she did, she'd be killed and best case scenario Lilith changes.

Episode 5, where Lilith burned down her wanted posters, episode 8 where Lilith was gonna get her straight in the coven instead of arresting her, episode 11, where Lilith said she wanted for Eda to join on her own and episode 17, where they played grudgby.

Proved to her even more that Lilith cares a lot for her and maybe she will change.

Then episode 18 happened and King wanting hugs and Luz's "Let me die!" Suddenly the worst case scenario became not her dieing but her dieing and the trauma the kids will experience. The fact that they won't have her in their lifes.

Lilith says "Then why were you so easy to curse?!?" This does not sound like "I accidentally did this and I'm sorry." No, Eda thought Lilith did this on purpose. And now her kids might get killed by her own sister cause she was too naive to trust her.

From now on I don't think she was trying to kill her cause Lilith isn't dangerous without raw power like Adegast and Tibbles, but to disable her is a possibility.

To add to this Eda wasn't rational almost throughout the entire finale. She probably didn't pick up on the line "If you would just let me explain." Just like she didn't question why Lilith was thrown in a cage.

Then she learns that Lilith commited treason together with her kids and started feeling like she doesn't know the full story, but Lilith is still a caring person. So she jumps Infront of the beam to save both Lilith and King.

Afterwards Lilith shares the curse and has nowhere to go if she gets kicked out so there is no reason to believe that she would hurt them physically.

I know in a post I said I don't think she fully processed the situation with Lilith. But now I think I was only half right.

She didn't fully process how much she was hurt but she understood Lilith's situation. Forgave her as soon as possible, not immediately. But that doesn't mean she rebuilded the relationship as soon as she forgave her.

First of, the forgiveness part happened after episode 1. The entire episode she was guilt tripping her, which I don't think was helping the situation. It makes Lilith more emotional which then makes it harder for her to face reality.

I'm not calling Eda a bad person for this but I do think it was a mistake.

What wasn't a mistake but a good thing is Eda wasn't the one to listen to her problems, it was Hooty. Cause her emotional health matters too and standing in one room with her sister is challenging.

And now I'm wondering does Eda know about how Lilith was treated by both the coven and their parents.

Eda calling Lilith a tool, seems to me more of them competing with each other rather than the recent events. Also Lilith forcing her rules without saying why they are there.

I'm glad the episode ended with them switching roles, where Lilith is now more powerful. Though I'm pretty sure the roles are getting switched again.

So what about the rebuilding of the relationship or should I say trust.

Well they didn't show us much, but I think the trust isn't fully back.

Cause she has only been proving that she can be physically trusted like when she saved King's life.

Eda never opens up, which is unhealthy. But in this case it's a healthy boundary, cause King did it and he got Lilith projecting onto him.

Lilith isn't good at being mentally supportive and still has bad habits.

Lulu and Hootsifer

Hooty helping Lilith was something, she really needed and didn't take for granted, cause the only one to ever even consider this is Eda.

They are buddies that look out for each other. I wouldn't say they talk a lot about feelings as they have no idea how to do that, but there are examples where they do.

Like "What kind of a witch am I?" and Hooty's letter.

Her letter for Hooty, was supportive, but ignored the issue of Hooty always being in people's personal space.

Which led to Hooty drugging Eda, kidnapping three children and almost killing said kids when his plans didn't work the way he wanted. He also ate the letter for King.

I want a Hooty redemption arc, now!

#toh #the owl house #eda clawthorne #toh eda #eda the owl lady #edalyn clawthorne #the owl lady #lilith clawthorne #toh lilith #toh Luz #luz noceda #toh king #king clawthorne #hooty #toh hooty #lulu and hootsifer

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pieces-by-me · 3 years

Text

Strangers on the Road

Gif by the lovely @honestsycrets

Words: 2605

Summary: Goodness can be found everywhere. Even for a stranger on a strange road.

Warnings: mentions of ablism

Kinda feel like this is not that good and lost inspiration at the end but I didn’t want to just delete the whole thing. Would love to hear what you all think of this✨

The Silk Road was a lot of things but never boring. People would meet from west to east to bargain about jewels, exotic foods, animals, slaves and as the name says silk. Anything you could ever need you could find on the Silk Road.

There was a market place. Close to the border where sand meets snow. It was colder here. The sun not having enough warmth to burn you, but still keep you a bit warmer. The market was not the biggest but the last one you would find for miles before the terrain changes from rocky mountaintops to frost covered grounds. Hundreds of people scuffled about to find the best goods. Different prices were being called around the area by the handlers to make the travelers come to their small stalls and seats. Many big men would shout at the top of their lungs. Some women would walk about and thrust their fabric in peoples faces. Anything to make yourself and your worth known.

One small stand, it was so tiny you might not even call it that, was at the end of the market. At first sight one couldn't even see what was presented for trade or purchase. But the closer you came the more you saw. Small clay pots with lids on them, little bowls with salves and a basket filled with weirdly looking dried leafs. Medicine.

The young women behind her small stall made herself useful by cleaning small crumbs of dirt from her pots. Smiling at buyers that walked by and greeting the once that came to her.

Y/N may not have a lot of supply but the demand was high. So the little she had she could sell for more then some other merchants. With made her life a little easier. But even if she sold everything each day she would still scrape at the ends of her revenues. It's only enough for her to live each day. Which was fine. She didn't have anyone she needed to support. Her parents died when she was young and she never had any siblings. So anything she made was for herself.

It wasn't easy at the beginning. Having to collect plants in a mountains was not an easy task. Walking miles upon miles into the nearest forrest for maybe an hour just to run back as soon as the sun went down. It would be a death sentence to walk on the Silk Road at night as a little girl. And Y/N had to start make a living for herself at a young age. But she managed. The knowledge she inherited from her mother helped her a lot. As soon as she found the little round leafs buried under the snow she knew she could survive.

They weren't just normal weeds. If you cooked them they would make a tea that would help with the biggest pains. If you chewed them raw you could help your teeth stay strong. And when you stomp them together with with goat fat and a specific snake venom it would help heal wounds in half the time. That was her biggest seller. It was hard to come by. Having to milk her snakes herself and trading things for goat fat took time. Every time she made it it would sell out in seconds and it would be worth it.

Today was like every other day. Waking up. Skipping breakfast to open the stall. Standing your feet into the ground for the day. Closing up. Making preparations and tinctures for the next day. Sleep.

Y/N knew nothing else so she was happy with it. Every day she would stand between Bran the forger, the nice guy that couldn't really stand anymore due to an old injury he obtained in a fight, and Lorah the jewel seller, a hardheaded women with to many opinions and a need to gossip. It was noisy between the constant banging on metal and women's chattering about the best new stones or quality of an arm ring. But it was her little place and she couldn't imagine standing somewhere else on the market.

The sun stood high in the sky when, for the first time in years, something changed. A lot of different people would travel the Silk Road to trade and buy. Different people from different places of the world praising different gods and coming around with the weirdest foods. But never in all her years had Y/N seen a cripple being carted through the market.

He was not hard to spot. The wagon he was sitting in was a big telltale. There weren't a lot of people with carts like that. The next thing she spotted were his legs. Two legs in metal braces. They looked old and rusted, as if they were about to fall apart. And then, the last sign of the stranger were his eyes. Y/N only caught them for a second but the shade of blue that pierced though hers was something she had never seen before. They were clearer then Lorah's jewels. Bluer then the sky. She could have looked into them for the whole day and never would tire.

“What in all the lords name is that?”

The disgusted voice of Lorah snapped the young woman out of her staring. She looked at the cripple with so much hate it seems he had killed her first born child.

“What do you mean? He's just traveling through here.”

Bran voiced his thoughts.

“I can see that you old fool. The question is why is it even here in the first place. It should not be here.”

“He's not a thing. He's human just like you.”

Y/N small voice grew colder then what it usually was when she talked to the women. She didn't like the tone and words her stall neighbor used for the stranger.

“Y/N dear you're young and naive. Human puh. No we are humans, you and me. Bran even. But the likes of...him should have died right after the birth. See the legs. They're crippled and wrong. We used to bring them outside to die when children like it were born. It's not natural. It's evil and bad and must be banished from the world.”

Y/N was shocked. She knew that Lorah was opinionated on a lot of things and that she would stand for her word. But this? How could she decide that this men should have died when he was a babe? What kind of monster could decide who lives and dies just by the way they were born?

“How can you truly think that? Your jewels might be beautiful but your heart is ugly Lorah.”

“I'm not the only one with that knowledge little witch. You'll see. That creature will not get anything from the people here on this market.”

Witch. Lorah knew that Y/N was called that behind her back and that she didn't like it. But she was rather a witch then heartless. She turned around to face the evil women once more but was met with nothing. Lorah must have stormed away in believe of having the last sentence and won the argument. Pathetic.

“Let her be Y/N. She sometimes seems as evil but she has truth to her words. The poor man won't find anyone to trade with him. He looks like he will travel farther east and probably die in the cold. Crippled people don't make it far in life. It's a wonder he made it this far. God must've be kind to him.”

“There are a lot of people here who will trade with anyone. They need the money and don't care if he's a cripple or not. And screw your God Bran. Your God would want me to burn alive for simply knowing some herbs.”

The clanging from bended metal was the only answer she'd get from the smith. Maybe she shouldn't have insulted his believe. Whats done is done.

Movement from the stranger caught her eyes again. He was making his way out of the cart with the help from a crutch. Also looking as if it would fall apart. Something was off about him though. His motions looked ragged. Tugging, almost as if his muscles would give out. She looked at him and again her eyes met his. This time she could see that not only the color of his eyes were blue but also the whites around them. Pain.

She knew what blue whites meant. In her live she met some men that came back from battle with light blue colored eyes. And they always proclaimed to be in the worst kind of pain they've ever felt. Him walking around with his crutch you wouldn't see that he felt pain with every step he took. It could simply be hard to walk on this ground. But she knew. And her heartstrings pulled tighter at the picture of this man struggling to only get food or whatever it is he needs.

Y/N hadn't realized how close the stranger has come. He was close enough to see the goods that were sprawled out on her little table and for her to see that there was a silver of a necklace peaking through his tunic. It looked like a hammer and she recognized it immediately. Nothing interested him though for he just walked by her without a glance. But she couldn't let that stand. Back in her head she searched for the old language her father tried to teach her. It was hard but she managed. She turned to him and with little confidence she called.

“Stranger”

That made him halt in his step. Turning around he met her eyes. This time on purpose. His eyes were filled with a sort of anger and he answered to fast with too many words for her to understand.

“Please, talk slower”

“How do you know my language?” It came out more of an demand then a question.

“My father thought me.”

“But why did he teach you Norse. You don't look like a Viking.”

Her answer came after a short minute but with a small smile on her face.

“I'm not Viking. But my father was friends with some. Back when he was alive.”

That made the stranger pause again. He was considered what she told him. You could see it.

“What is your name?” This time it was a question.

“Y/N and yours?”

He hesitated. Should he tell this woman who he was? Could it come back and bite him in the ass if he told the truth?

“You don't have to tell me. It's not of my buisn..”

“Ivar”

His interruption made her to stumble over her words but after she heard that he told her his name her small smile grew larger. Ivar had to say she had a nice smile. And she was the first one to start a conversation with him and not the other way around.

“Well Ivar, is there something you might need that I can help you with?”

“No, I'm looking for food and you only sell weird looking porridge.”

Her smile didn't falter. “Well I don't have food but you can buy something six stalls to your right. Bella sells the best and cheapest dates on the whole road. Also if you say that I send you she will probably give you more for your money. But here please take this”

With the last words she turned around, ducked behind her stall and when she came up again she held a small brown pouch filled with dried leafs inside a yellow cup.

Ivar looked at her with skepticism. Why would this weird, yet beautiful, women talk to him and then also help him?

“I don't have enough gold to pay for...whatever that is. And why would you help me with food when you would gain nothing in return?”

“I don't want your gold. I just want to help. I see the way your eyes are blue and I know that you are in pain. So why wouldn't I help you when I can? Also Bella owns me one for making medicine for her son so it's nothing really”

Y/N held the pouch still in her hands but with the missing answer form Ivar her smile fell just a little. But she wouldn't take no, or the lack of one, as an answer. So with a little smirk that looked more mischievous than the smile she held before she threw the little bag to the side of him that didn't hold him up on his crutch.

With a startled look, as if he was expecting a knife, he caught the bag. The stare he threw back at her made her laugh so hard even on Bran's face grew on. He observed the weird interaction between the two even though he couldn't understand a word they'd said. He hand't seen Y/N laugh and smile for a long time.

“Well now it's yours and I don't take returns” Her voice matched her smile and after a moment to overcome his initial shock Ivar smiled back. And Y/N swore her heart skipped a beat.

“Fine... then as it seems that I am stuck with this..would you explain to me what I have to do with it?” His smile was a little dimmed but still on his face.

“You'd have to boil the leafs for a while and then drink it slowly. Little sips. And no more then one cup.” She gave him the cup too and he hid both of her gift somewhere in his robe.

They held eye contact. Knowing that their interaction would be over soon. Him still plagued with hunger and her with the need to sell more of her goods, now that she gifted some away. But neither wanting to let the other go. Y/N was the first person since he fled Kattegat that was actually nice to him. She treated him like a person and not ogled at him like the freak he was. Well as the freak he saw in himself.

And Ivar was the first men that made her laugh and made her truly feel happy for a little while. She could forget the struggle of having to be alone in this world. She would miss him. Even though they only knew each other for an hour she would truly miss this stranger with the blue eyes.

And what she didn't know was that Ivar would miss and think of her for the rest of his journey. He would see her act of kindness a far greater thing then just a small favor. And her laugh would bring him warmth when he went into the snow filled forests.

“Thank you” His small voice was filled with honesty.

“You are more then welcome. I wish you all the luck and that your gods help you on your journey”

He hadn't expected to hear that but it brought him a little bit of hope. If the gods made him meet her he was on the right path.

He only bowed his head a little, a sheepish smirk on his face, and made his way away from her and to the mentioned stall from Bella. Dates sounded magnificent right now.

Ivar vanished in the masses of people but her smile stayed on her face.

“Well someone is a little smitten”

“Ah shut up Bran”

Her insult was met with laughter from the old forger.

__________

Tags: @youbloodymadgenius

#history vikings #vikings #vikings ivar #vikings imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #ivar x reader #ivar x y/n #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar imagine #ivar fanfic

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chuuyasnumber1simp · 3 years

Text

Warm Touches Melt Cold Stares Akutagawa x fem reader

A/N- because it’s me, and I love writing it, you better bet this gonna be hurt/comfort, and angsty at that. This what I write when I have no requests lol so get ready for the pain train. This is gonna be an ongoing fic btw.

This time, reader is going to have anxiety and bipolar depression, two things I can write well because I have them. If you want to see something else from me feel free to drop a request!

(Reader is 19)

Warnings: Mentions of Self Harm, Attempted Sexual Assault

Word Count: 2706

You were cold.

But then again, you always were.

Not towards people, not physically- that which surprised people based on your ability.

You hugged your arms closer to your body, feeling the telltale pinpricks of frost letting you know your ability activated.

It was comforting, in a way. The coldness that surrounded your body, it was the only thing letting you know that you were here, and not still asleep, floating in the inky black of your dreams. You preferred the endless ocean of black to your current waking world, marred by emptiness and fear.

You liked to pretend that the numbness that filled you somedays could merely be explained by being a result of your ability. Like your brain was slowly becoming frostbitten. On the days you didn’t even recognize yourself in the mirror, you often wondered why the temperature of your skin didn't match how you felt.

Some days you woke up and felt as if something had melted the ice encasing your insides, your brain. That maybe, you would get better. Then, sometimes on the same day,

You didn’t want to die, yet you couldn’t find reason to continue this life that you lead. That was the reason you kept waking up, day after day, always reaching out to find maybe just a glimpse of purpose. You had believed your ability was a gift, when you were a child. A stupid, naïve child you were, to believe it was anything but a curse. That’s what you parents thought, when you manifested your ability. At first, all had gone well. When you were little, you didn’t know that frost and ice can burn someone if it’s cold enough.

You didn’t know that being too cold would cause hypothermia, and death.

You were just a stupid, naïve child, who froze her parents to death, completely unaware of what she’d done. You didn’t know how or why, the memory's becoming more foggy with time. Your grandparents had taken you in after that, and they were kind. But even they could overcome your hesitance, your fear of being close enough to anyone to bring harm.

Prior to arriving in Yokohama, you had let your guard down, just for a moment. No one at work knew of your ability, you had kept it a secret for fear of peoples reactions.

Another stupid mistake.

You had a boyfriend, and you were happy. That was one of the longest times the coldness went away.

But one day, you had gotten into an argument, over something stupid. You couldn’t even remember what now. He tried to leave, walk away from the argument, and in your anger, you reached out and grabbed his wrist.

You’ll never forget the scream that ripped through the house.

It was like your parents all over again.

Around his wrist, there was a massive blister, red and swelling, about the size of your hand. He had fallen to to the ground, clutching his arm and screaming.

So you ran.

Ran out of his house, left your grandparents, left behind everything you knew. You took the bus as far away as you could, leaving you in Yokohama.

You vowed to never use your ability again. At least, not on anyone else. You wondered if there had been a police investigation back in your hometown, or if anyone even tried to find you.

You doubted it.

So here you were, looking for an apartment in Yokohama, having arrived three days ago.

You still had access to your bank account, and have been paying for a hotel room. It was cheap and crappy, but at least it was somewhere to sleep. People there didn’t ask why you wore a mask, and they didn’t ask why you had gloves on in spring. But it was, unfortunately for, where certain unsavory characters liked to be.

You were trying to walk back to your hotel room, after a rather unfulfilling day, when a group of four men whistled and shouted as you walked by. As a woman, you were used to this. You ignored them and continued, but when you heard their footsteps after you, you walked a little faster, subconsciously allowing frost to cover your fingers. Your heart beat quickened as you walked past your room, hoping that someone would notice your current predicament.

This was the downfall of everyone turning the other cheek. Situations like these were commonplace, and even the staff did not get involved. At this point, you were flat out running, almost tripping down the stairs in your haste to escape them. They followed after, relentless.

You felt your heart sink as the stairs you had gone to had not lead to the lobby, but the laundry room and staff exit.

The staff exit was locked, and the laundry room was empty.

No one would come to your aid here.

“Well well well, what do we have here. Someone’s a little feisty. But I think this going to have to be the end of the road for you,”

The men boxed you in against the wall the one speaking before trying to grab your arms. You squirmed and wiggled, trying your hardest to wrench yourself free from his grasp. Someone from the back pressed a blade against your throat, instantly halting all motion.

“That’s better pretty lady. Now hold still for me,”

You tried to scream, but the second you opened your mouth someone roughly shoved a wadded up shirt in it, muffling all noises.

The man pinning your arms shoved his knee in between your legs, forcing them apart. On instinct, you let your ability -and fear- take over, and watched as the frost from your arms spread to his. He yelled and dropped his arms, giving you the moment to knock the knife from the other mans hand, and made a break for the stairs.

“Not so fast,”

Someone kicked your ankle just as you had made it to the stairs, causing you to fall and slam your face into them. Despite the tears flowing down your cheeks and the blood that dripped from your nose, you attempted to crawl upwards, only to be yanked backwards and throw back to the wall.

You lay there dazed, your vision swimming as the men surrounded you once more. You closed your eyes and felt a small, cold tear slide out of your eye, resigning yourself to your fate.

“Excuse me gentlemen, but that’ll be enough now. Didn’t your parents ever teach you to respect women?”

You heard a voice from the staircase, and watched as a man with orange hair and a fedora descended the steps, a red aura glowing around him.

“And who do you think you are?” the man who held the knife at you spoke.

“Chuuya Nakahara, executive to the Port Mafia,”

The men seemed to flinch at his name, though you had no idea who he, or the Port Mafia were.

“Listen, I don’t care if you run the Port Mafia, mind your own business,”

“I really wish you hadn’t said that. Akutagawa, over here!”

Another man came down the stairs, covering his mouth with his hand. They both looked intimidating, and you curled in on yourself, as if that would do anything to protect yourself.

“Rashomon,”

When the man with the black jacket spoke, something black and red, almost like cloth, or elastic, pierced the man who spoke against Chuuya, and was flung across the room. After that, the rest of them scattered, obviously not willing to die at the hands of this cold ability user.

Yanking the shirt out of your mouth, you crawled backwards, whimpering quietly as Chuuya approached you. Back pressed flat against the wall, you ice spread like wildfire, some of it even spreading across the carpet. Akutagawa’s eyes widened slightly with curiosity, and you subconsciously willed your ice to grow more, small icicles forming on your arms and the walls. Chuuya continued to advance on you, albeit more slowly than before, and your ice grew more in response, your breath materializing at the drop in temperature.

He stopped about five feet away from you, arms up in a show of good will.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?”

“Y/N,”

“Would you like to come with us? I don’t believe you’d be that safe here, and we can help you with your ability,”

“How do I know you aren’t going to kill me? Or try to do what those guys did?”

“If we were going to do that, wouldn’t we have already done that?”

You internally thought he was right, but you were skeptical about following two random men. One of which just killed someone right in front you.

You narrowed your eyes. “Why do I have any reason to trust you?”

Chuuya sighed. “Listen. I can leave you here to these guys, who’ll probably be back, or you can come with us and have an actually safe place to sleep. Your choice,”

Standing up on shaky legs, you looked at the other man. He stood still, and showed no emotion on his face. He looked almost annoyed, as if he was really going out of his way to save you.

“I-i’ll go. But on one condition,”

Akutagawa turned to you, annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I don’t think you understand. We’re helping you. You are not in a position to negotiate right now,”

You swayed on your feet a bit before speaking, you assumed your body was not taking your ordeal and the below freezing temperatures your ability was producing.

“It’s not anything big. I j-just need someone to accompany me to my room so I can get my stuff. I don’t want to be alone,”

Part of you laughed at your words, mocking the irony of always making sure you never got close to anyone, even now, with your ice spreading quickly, and yet here you were, practically begging for someone to be with you, so you wouldn’t be alone.

Pathetic. Look at you, you were always so good at hurting people, so why have you failed now? Maybe the Chuuya and Akutagawa shouldn’t have come, and just let them men have they’re way with you. You would have deserved it. You—

“Sure. Akutagawa can go with you,”

Chuuya’s voice snapped you from your thoughts, and he gave you a warm smile that made you trust him a little more.

Akutagawa still looked mildly annoyed, but he seemed to hold a lot of respect for Chuuya, so you figured he would not do anything to you if he was under Chuuya’s orders.

The walk up to your room was silent, and uncomfortably so. Your ability was still going all over the place, so every time your foot touched the floor little shards of ice would stick up. Your body temperature had to be freezing by now, your skin covered in goosebumps. Your ability made the effects of freezing temperatures easier to withstand, but it did not make you immune to them. While a normal person could survive in freezing temperatures for 15 to 45 minutes, you could withstand them for about 30 minutes to 2 hours, depending on just how freezing the temperatures were. But, if the temperature of your ice dropped lower than freezing, the rate of your survival dropped drastically, to about 20-40 minutes.

Stress made it hard to control your ability, thus the reason you had burned your boyfriend and why you were struggling to control it now.

You tried to control your breathing, to stabilize your mental state somehow, but the more you attempted to the harder it gave to inhale oxygen.

You were sweating despite the cold, and at this point you sounded like you were dying with all the wheezing and coughing. Panic was setting in as you tried to gulp in air, but it wasn’t working.

You bit back a scream when a pale hand made contact with your shoulder, and you looked up to see a rather uncomfortable looking Akutagawa, who seemed to be trying to offer comfort during your panic attack.

The look on his face was almost comical, how uneasy he looked touching another human being. Finally, you did start to calm down, and managed to make it into your dingy room.

Akutagawa opted to stand outside the room, and having him there did make you feel safer.

You could still feel the ghost of fingers lingering on your body, and your shoved your clothes into your backpack with more vigor than before, hoping to get out of this place as fast as humanly possible. You frost had calmed down for the time being, allowing you to love more freely, no longer being constricted by the binds of cold.

You realized that you must have looked near homeless, a pair of black jeans with a rip starting on the knee, and an oversized grey sweatshirt you had owned since sixteen. The letters had long since faded, and you could see where you had patched it back up time after time, but it was the warmest and most comfortable thing you owned.

You stepped out of the room, greeting Akutagawa with a nod. Sometime when you were changing, Chuuya had shown up, and he was explaining something to Akutagawa in a hushed tone. He greeted you with a dip of his hat when you closed the door, reminding you of a gentleman from an older era.

The feeling of your gloves back on your hands was comforting, though you still hung back slightly, always making sure there was a couple feet’s worth of distance between you and anyone else.

The lobby clerk practically kept out of his seat when he saw Akutagawa and Chuuya, and everyone waiting parted like the red sea, allowing the three of you to walk through with ease.

There was a sleek black car that you spotted immediately, it looked very out of place amongst every other car in the parking lot. Chuuya didn’t seem like the kind of person to be inconspicuous.

You felt awkward about climbing into the immaculately clean car with your dirty clothes. You had at least showered, although rather quickly, since for some reason the hot water didn’t work.

You sat in the backseat alone, Akutagawa driving and Chuuya sitting in the passenger seat.

The car was silent, and the tension was palpable. You still had no idea what the Port Mafia was besides the obvious, that they were a mafia. What they did, and how they could help you with your ability was what you didn’t understand. Why would they help you? It’s not like you had any money, and you absolutely no battle training whatsoever. It’s not like you had held a gun before either. You had some practice with knives, but that was so long ago you didn’t think you could recall how to hold a knife properly. This was the main reason for not completely trusting these men, because people who didn’t have use or purpose were disposed of.

Not willing to push their patience, you didn’t question anything, and simply allowed them to drive you to wherever they were going. They could be kidnapping you, and it would probably be your fault.

What am I even doing here? Following two random dudes i don’t know, to the MAFIA where they’re going to make me do GOD KNOWS what. I could be raped, murdered, or tortured! I was just almost raped for god’s sake, and the first thing i do is go with strangers? This is literally EXACTLY what grandpa told me not to do. I’m stupid, stupid, I’m going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere, oh god why do i have to be so stupid--

“Hey Y/N? we’re here,”

It was only then did you see Chuuya waving a hand in front of your face, and you flushed slightly hoping you hadn’t been sitting like that for too long.

A very tall building stood before you, smack in the middle of Yokohama. You guessed that since it was so prominent, people would never believe that it was the headquarters for the Port Mafia. Or, the Port Mafia just didn’t care.

Akutagawa beaconed you over, and you swallowed thickly, unsure of what would happen when you entered this building.

A/N: Heyoo!! im really proud of this, im sorry of Akutagawa seemed a bit ooc, i tried hard to establish his feelings and personality without writing him off as a tsundere, or making him a cold jerk. Ah, the woes of writing.

Anyway, sorry i posted this instead of the newest chapter for the Chuuya fic. I can’t get past one scene for it, I've legit re-wrote it like seven times. So, to get over my writers block, i decided to finally publish this! The moodboard and first chapter have been in my drafts for awhile, so i decided to finally post them. Hope ya’ll like it!

#akutagawa x reader #akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa ryuunosuke x reader #bsd #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader

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kabira · 3 years

Text

02 | team project

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.6k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none

note — this is a little rushed, sorry ;-; i haven’t updated in two weeks despite only having posted the pilot so i was like !! ahh !! gotta update !! and here it is, your first ever (and very brief) appearance. i’ll edit it soon! as usual, send me an ask or dm if you want to be added to the taglist <3

go to fic masterlist | main masterlist

“Is this about me leaving Rhino on Midtown’s front porch?” Vernon demanded. “Because if it is, I’ll have you know that I left him in good hands—”

"Calm down, Wonder Kid," Fury said. He didn't look amused like Vernon had hoped, which meant that whatever he'd come here to talk about was serious. Well, what else should he have expected from the head of S.H.I.E.L.D.? "It's not about that. Well—not entirely. It's about the good hands you mentioned."

Vernon narrowed his eyes. He'd met Fury a few times before, and never during favorable conditions. The last time he's seen the guy, Spider-Man had almost been pummeled to death by none other than the Goblin himself. "They said something about bringing him to S.H.I.E.L.D.," he muttered. "I should have guessed."

Fury didn't respond, instead reaching inside his jacket to bring out an envelope. He threw the open envelope onto the table in front of Vernon, making a few pictures half spill out from inside. "You know what that is?"

Vernon glanced at him suspiciously before slowly picking up the pictures and going through them. Each of them was a glossy shot of various locations in New York, and all of them had a major recurring theme—the places were completely trashed. Overturned cars, building walls with holes in them, bent lampposts. Wearily, he set the pictures down face-up on the table, then looked up at the man, who stared back with an unreadable expression on his face.

A beat passed. "Was that a rhetorical question?"

"Jesus, kid," Fury muttered. "All of those pictures were taken moments after a fight between you and one of your fanclub members. Now, I'm not saying I don't appreciate you taking care of a couple of minor criminals in the city—"

"Minor criminals?"

"—but I can't let you treat the place like it's your neighborhood playpen," he finished. Next to him, the pretty agent-slash-counselor sat with her legs folded, her surprisingly stern gaze fixed on Vernon. The attention made him squirm. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is a global defense organization, for god's sake. We don't have the time to clean up after kids who don't know even know their three Rs."

"Let me guess," Vernon said, "rock, roll, ramble?"

"Even your wisecracks aren't funny anymore, kid." Fury shook his head.

Ouch. "That hurt my feelings."

The man glared at him out of his one good eye. "You can't keep going like this forever," he said. "You're on your way to be one of the greats—don't look at me like that, hell if I'm gonna repeat that—but the big guys take care of their messes. They don't leave poor innocent civilians behind to get new paint jobs on their Kias. All that damage your careless fighting left behind, who's gonna take care of that?"

"Insurance?" Vernon suggested. Agent Fox cracked a smile, warming his insides. Her sitting aside in silence as Fury chewed him out was a little unnerving. He wondered if looking on silently while high-rankers lectured kids was something she had to do regularly. You gotta have a heart of ice to sit through that.

"You are," Fury said grimly, and Vernon blinked. "And you're gonna start today."

"What was it that you really wanted?" Vernon asked, crossing his arms over his chest, making his t-shirt stretch tight over his biceps. He really needed to go shopping. "You can't tell me the world's best spy came all the way to some backwater high school just to lecture a kid about cleanliness being next to godliness."

"You're a special case, Parker," Fury said, and Vernon placed a hand over his heart, mockingly going aw. "And you're right. I'm not here just to lecture you about your repeated careless mistakes, I'm here to help you fix them."

Vernon looked at him suspiciously, already wary of what was to come next. "And how do you propose I do that?"

"You've already shown me multiple times you can't do it yourself," Fury said. "Look, kid, here's the thing: you have a problem, and I have a problem. I also happen to have a joint solution to both."

Vernon slumped in his chair. Here it comes. "What problem could you possibly have? Nuclear warheads threatening to destroy civilians' Kias in Manhattan?"

"You really gotta work on those one-liners." Fury sighed. "There's a group of kids in the Helicarrier like you—up-and-coming superheroes in need of some real-world experience. They've got the training you need to handle jobs with efficiency, and you have the practical experience. They've got the goods—just like you—but nowhere real to practice them."

"You mean those guys," Vernon said, sitting up and recalling the three who had helped him in the fight against Rhino. "You mean—you want me to teach them?"

"I want you to work with them," Fury said. "Train with them, fight with them, lead what could be the next greatest team of post-humans."

"So basically, your solution is to sic a bunch of newbies on me as some kind of damage control," Vernon said angrily. "And what if I refuse?"

"Nothing," the spy answered simply. "You're not under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s official jurisdiction yet, so I can't do anything to you even if I want to—unless, of course, I absolutely have to. You're allowed to walk out of here right now, but I can't guarantee that that's gonna work out for you."

Vernon considered this. He knew a threat when he heard one, even when it wasn't a yell of SPIDER-MAN, I'M GONNA KILL YOU, but he also knew that Nick Fury's threats weren't always real threats. However, he did not like his chances.

"As long as they stay out of my business," he muttered, knowing that was the one thing they were least likely to do. He knew how closely teams operated, and it didn't take his spider sense to figure out that this team was going to be much nosier than that. He recalled the annoyed scowl on that Nova guy's face, and internally shuddered.

"It's a deal," Fury said pleasantly, as if Vernon had any choice but to accept the so-called 'deal'. "I'll be checking in regularly, so bear in mind that I'll know if you ever kill one of your teammates and throw their body into the East River."

"I would never go to that much trouble," he replied equally pleasantly, getting up. Then he glanced at the clock, and scowled. "I can't believe you made me skip my biology quiz for five minutes of parental guidance."

"Oh, I'd never lie to a teacher, kid," Fury said, patting his shoulder as he passed him. "A counseling session I promised, and a counseling session you will get."

Vernon glanced at the other agent in dismay, but she only smiled—whether in amusement or reassurance, he couldn't tell. She clicked her pen, picking up the pad, her eyes twinkling. "Settle down, Spider-Man," she said. "This will only take forty minutes."

Vernon almost considered opting out of eating in the cafeteria, but changed his mind at the last moment, knowing it was the only time other than first period biology he got to see Joshua on Mondays. He desperately needed to vent, and his bespectacled friend was the only one who even came close to understanding to the layers of his identity, one of which was a deep-rooted hatred for the universal authority on superheroes.

So he stalked right into lunch, barely noticing the gunk of whatever-it-was thwacking into his plastic tray, and headed for their usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. He didn't need to go that far to get to Joshua, however, as the blue-haired boy almost walked smack into him as he made his way there.

"Woah, woah, steady," Joshua said, grabbing his bicep to prevent them from colliding. "Why are you making like a steamroller towards that innocent little table? And what the hell were you during biology? What was that about?"

Vernon cast a careful glance around the cafeteria, at the crowd of people, one of which could easily overhear them in the close range. "I'll give you the details later," he murmured. "The cusp of the matter is: Fury blackmailed me into signing up for a team activity."

"Wait, wait, wait, Nick Fury?" Joshua asked in awe as they walked over to the table, gripping his tray tightly and hunching his shoulders, leaning slightly towards Vernon in interest. "You mean he was here, in this school?"

"Not even the first time, Josh."

"Not the—" Joshua shook his head, as if shooing away the thoughts. "Okay. Filing that information away for further perusal later. So you're telling me Nick Fury, super-spy, came to this place—" he spread his arms, indicating the school— "to talk to you. Man, sometimes I forget Spider-Man's supposed to be a household name."

"Shut up," Vernon hissed, casting a furtive glance at a heavily tattooed blonde who passed them by closely. "But yeah. And he asked me to team up with these noobs from the S.H.I.E.L.D. future program or something."

Joshua frowned. "But that's kind of cool, though, right?"

"Not if they're gonna slow me down," he replied. "Spider-Man's always operated alone, and—wait, what the hell?"

He stopped in his tracks right before the table, a stunned expression on his face. Joshua raised his eyebrows, following his gaze to the table, which was, surprisingly enough, already occupied.

She was there, of course, at her usual seat, the third from the left, except she was not alone. There was another girl, with dark hair and piercing eyes, picking at a soggy fry with her lips pursed. Next to her was a brooding blond with freckles that stood out against his shockingly pale skin. Last, but not the least, was the boy with the tanned skin who was making Vernon's best friend laugh so hard she was doubled over, a familiar cocky edge to his smile.

"Ah," Joshua said.

Lucy Langdon was one of Vernon's, and therefore Spider-Man's, biggest pressure points. She was also one of the only ones who had been left virtually untouched by all his superhero shenanigans, and he wanted to keep it that way. Though she was smart enough keep up with a few new trainees, as far as Vernon was concerned, she was strictly off-limits. Even to superheroes who could fly and called themselves Nova.

Vernon stalked over to the table and slammed his tray on the surface so hard he made everyone jump. Then he glared at the boy sitting next to her, the one with the bronzed skin, as Joshua stood by awkwardly. "You're in my seat," he said pointedly.

The boy cocked a lazy eyebrow, gesturing to the unoccupied seats opposite him. "I don't see your name on it."

Vernon ground his teeth, raising his hand (no doubt to petulantly slam it down on the table next to his tray) but Joshua grabbed his wrist, giving him a meaningful look. "Don't start anything that can be easily avoided," he muttered to the boy, and Vernon relented, albeit grudgingly.

"You're late," Lucy said conversationally, though your voice was higher than usual, probably because of the sudden tension that had descended upon the table. Vernon sat down slowly, still glaring at the boy, and she glanced at Joshua, who only shrugged. "These are, uhm, they're new."

"I figured," Vernon muttered.

"Three in one day? And this late into the year?" Joshua wondered aloud, raising his eyebrows. "Now I'm curious."

"Nothing worth your curiosity, I'm afraid," the new girl replied. Her eyes, when they swept over Vernon, were watchful and aware. "Just a coincidence. I was supposed to join earlier but there was a family emergency. As for these two, I can only guess." Her smile was small but sharp. "I'm Yeji."

"Felix," said the blond. He looked gloomy, but maybe it was just because of the unhealthy-looking pallor of his skin.

"And I'm Yangyang," the last boy said, with an impish grin that rubbed Vernon the wrong way. He already knew who these three were supposed to be—actually, everyone was supposed to know Felix, since Iceman was already a pretty famous member of the X-Men. Surely dyed hair couldn't be the only change needed to disguise that face? "Me and Felix are cousins, actually."

"Felix and I," Vernon mumbled under his breath, and Lucy gave him a look which he ignored. "Since when did you start taking people in for charity?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Be nice," she said. "They were in my Home Economics class, and if it hadn't been for Yeji here, I might have blown up the marble cake I was supposed to be making."

Joshua frowned. "How?"

"A story for another day." She smiled an unreadable smile, dark eyes sparkling. "Now—"

"No," Vernon said.

She glanced at him. "Excuse me?"

"No," he repeated. Then, as jerkily as he had sat down, he got up, and jabbed a finger at the new arrivals in turn, before pointing over his shoulder. "You three," he said venomously, "to the corridor. Now."

"Aw, man, I can't believe you're being so sensitive about this," Yangyang—Nova—complained loudly, though there was a shit-eating grin on his face as he followed Vernon into the hallway. "So Fury transferred us into your school without checking with you first. Big deal. What are you supposed to be, the queen of England?"

Vernon gave him a spiteful look, but otherwise ignored his remark. Instead, he focused on Yeji, who was watching him patiently, because she looked like the most sensible member of the group. He stared at her for a long moment, struggling to find the words that would convey the exact measure of his indignance. "Why?" he asked finally, giving up.

She shrugged helplessly. "Look, we didn't ask for this, either," she answered. "We're under orders, so it's not like we can just up and leave. Huddling in the hallway isn't a smart decision, either—we already have all eyes on us because of being the three new kids who randomly joined on the same day, and this is only making us look even more suspicious."

Vernon glared at her, trying to think of a good argument, then gave up. He turned on Felix, who was standing off to the side with folded arms, still looking uninterested in the conversation. "You," he said, narrowing his eyes, "you're Iceman."

Felix looked at him neutrally. "Yes."

"You're not under S.H.I.E.L.D.," Vernon said, pointing an accusatory finger. "And you have enough real-world experience, so there's no reason for you to be here instead of with the X-Men—"

"Dude," Felix said frostily; no pun intended. "Drop it."

Yeji nodded, giving Vernon a meaningful look he could not decipher.

"Aw, come on, web-head," Yangyang interjected. "We saved your life and you didn't even thank us, but I'll let that go since your manners aren't exactly polished. But this is just boring."

"It is not," Vernon seethed. "I'll talk to Fury—"

Yangyang snorted. "Good luck with that."

"—or the principal—"

"The new principal," Yeji muttered. "Agent Coulson."

Vernon made an exasperated noise. "The only reason I even agreed to Fury's stupid offer was because I thought it would get him off my case!" he yelled. "School is the only part of my life that's separate from all the wacky crap I have to deal with otherwise, and now even that—" He clenched his teeth. "If I'd known it meant having you people barge into my life like this—"

"Then you couldn't have done anything about it, even knowing," Yeji said, gently cutting him off. "Face it, hero. You're stuck with us as much as we're stuck with you—whether any of us like it or not."

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2460nodone · 3 years

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Trophies

Title: Trophies Category: Plays/Musicals » Les Misérables Author: AliceInSomewhereland Language: English, Rating: Rated: T Genre: Drama/Romance Published: 05-19-13, Updated: 05-19-13 Chapters: 1, Words: 3,671

Summary: They meet on their respective fields - his, baseball, and hers, soccer - and it changes everything. Enjonine modern AU for the Fic War on tumblr! Oneshot, rated T for language.

originally written for the e/e fic war and posted to ffnet. prompted with “soccer AU, baseball AU” by tumblr user samthenardier.

Chapter 1/1

He's not quite sure when he first noticed her.

Perhaps it was the weekend Courfeyrac hit the ball out of their diamond, and, as he played in the outfield, she reached him first to return it. He hardly paid her any mind, only nodding in thanks. She was clearly just as busy as he, covered in dirt and soaked with sweat, her shin guards smeared with grass stains.

Perhaps it was the weekend that it rained. Bahorel and Grantaire, playing on his team that weekend, were highly distracted when the women with whom she was playing declared their match to be shirts versus skins. She seemed to be the chief in insisting that it be the girls who played as skins, against the shirted boys.

The boys on his baseball team couldn't help but stare as the girls stripped, their shorts rolled low on their hips and clinging to their thighs in the rain, their tops bare, save for their soaked-through sports bras.

He noticed that she and her friends were frequently shooting glances in the direction of the baseball diamond, delighting and giggling when his teammates and opponents fawned over them.

Perhaps he noticed her the weekend that it was so hot they almost had to cancel – she, again, was shirtless, but this time her sports bra was soaked with sweat. They watched as she poured cold water over her face and head and shoulders – his teammates with hunger and desire, he with disinterest.

Perhaps it was the weekend he saw her running to their diamond, soccer ball under her arm and her hand entwined with another girl's, one with dusky skin and dark hair. They sat in the bleachers, watching and cheering and laughing. It was quite distracting. Afterwards, he watched as she made a beeline to Marius, just as Joly and Bossuet appeared to be racing to talk to her friend first.

He paid her little to no mind, though he did notice when she wasn't there sometimes, especially because his baseball team (and often their visiting competition) and the eternal pick-up soccer game that she participated in often went out for drinks together after their respective games were over. It seemed oddly quiet when she wasn't there, rare though that was, but it also irritated him when she was there, because she spent the whole damn time mooning over Marius and trying to get that freckled fool to pay attention to her.

He never bothered to interact with her; in fact, he didn't even know her name. Nor did he try to learn it. Whenever she came into his peripherals, he merely acknowledged her mentally as "Marius' Shadow."

However, everything changed when he was leaving the park one day, and came across her corned up against a tree, an older man who must have been her father screaming in her face as she cowed. When the man hit her across the face, he lost it.

He dropped his things, and suddenly he was next to her, then in between her and the man, then shoving the man away and shouting things that he didn't remember later. They tousled briefly, resulting in a bloody nose on his face and a black eye on the old man. The man stormed away, screaming and cursing at them.

When he turned, he didn't even have time to react before she slapped him sharply across the face. It left him momentarily dumb; he wasn't sure whether to pinch his nose to stop the bleeding or hold his smarting cheek. Then she was shouting at him.

"I don't want your help! I'm not some sort of damsel in distress that needs rescuing from some bourgeois knight in shining armor!" She shoved him, though it was hardly strong.

Her lip was bleeding and was starting to swell from where the man hit her.

Ten minutes later, he was in the dugout, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Hey," a voice said behind him, startling him. He turned, and there she was – fat lip, messy dark hair, long, thin legs and a torso hidden by an oversized jersey. She held a plastic bag in her hand.

He just sniffed blood, trying to keep it from running down his face more, and stared at her. He was hardly forgiving; if she resented his interference, he wouldn't interfere. He had a bloody nose and probably a black eye (try explaining that one at work tomorrow), all because he was trying to help her. So as far as he was concerned, they had no reason, especially now, to interact at all. He wanted nothing from her.

"Sit down," she ordered. Her tone surprised him; it reminded him of how his mother or his teachers would talk to him as a child. He wondered where she picked it up. Then he sat.

She put the bag on the bench beside him, digging around inside. From it, she pulled gauze, an ice pack, hydrogen peroxide, and band-aids. Without a word, she began mopping up the blood on his face.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," she murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on the blood that was still gushing from his nose.

He shrugged.

"It was my dad. It wasn't the first time," she told him quietly. He wondered why she was telling him this; from the look on her face, she was wondering the same thing. Then, "I'm Eponine. Eponine Jondrette."

He regarded her for a moment, and she finally met his eyes. They were a beautiful, bright brown, flecked with gold, but were dark and angry from the memories that were undoubtedly cycling through her mind. He looked at her lips; dried blood had trickled onto her chin, though she hadn't seemed to notice.

"Enjolras," he said. "Gabriel Enjolras."

Eponine's lips twitched into a small smile, then she got back to work on cleaning him up.

When she was finished, she threw the first aid supplies into her backpack. "I'll buy you a beer," she offered, "as a thanks – and an apology."

He's not quite sure why he kissed her.

It was several months after the day he fought her father.

They were heading off to the park together. His league's season was over, but he and his friends still met each weekend for pickup games. She had wormed her way into his friend group, and they had invited her along, eager to teach her how to play baseball. In return, she was going to teach them a little bit about soccer.

She met him on the corner near his apartment – it was more convenient for her to cut through his neighborhood to reach the park, as she lived a few blocks away.

"We need to run to my place," she said when he found her, not bothering to greet him. "I would've gone alone, but my phone was dead and I didn't want you to think I was ditching you.

Though they lived relatively close together, there was a marked difference between his neighborhood and hers. His was more affluent – he was a lawyer, the only son in a wealthy family, and therefore, his apartment was large and well decorated and safe.

Eponine's apartment, however, was one room of a giant, sketchy-looking complex. She joked that this was where the meth-heads came to die.

He worried for her safety.

Inside, however, she had done her best to make the place comfortable. It was colorful, but tasteful – very bohemian, but it worked because it was so Eponine.

She had hung curtains to separate her small bed from the rest of the room, and disappeared behind them for a few moments.

When she reemerged, she beckoned him over. "Enj, these are my soccer trophies from high school. I was being scouted for college, being offered scholarships and even full rides, but then I blew out my knee."

He hadn't known. He knew she was good, but not that she could have started in college. Nor did he know that her knee had ruined her opportunity to get out of – well, out of this life. It broke his heart; she could have truly been something quite incredible. She was smart, she was driven and talented, but lacking the resources to rise out of the life she so despised. To have come so close, only to have an ill-timed physical issue rip her chances away – he couldn't even imagine.

"That sucks, Ep, I'm so sorry," he told her sincerely.

She smiled warmly, though he could see a touch of bitterness in her eyes. "Whatever," she shrugged, "I have all these crazy trophies for my trouble!"

And she did. There must have been more than 30 of all colors and sizes, from participation awards to tournament placements to MVP's.

"My collection would totally kick your collection's ass," he teased, nudging her with his elbow. "I was given a partial scholarship to play in college. I wanted to go pro. I didn't have time for anything else, not even girls. My entire life revolved around baseball and school."

She looked at him. "What happened?"

He stared straight ahead at a trophy she had won her sophomore year of high school for most valuable player. "My priorities changed," was all he said. He could hear the hardness in his own voice; out of the corner of his eye, he saw her searching for something on his face before she turned back towards the trophies. He cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said, reaching out and touching a medal, "all my trophies are at my parents' house."

"I like having mine home with me," was Eponine's soft reply.

He looked at her. There was a faraway look on her face, an absent smile on her lips. "They help me remember a time when I was happy." She seemed to be talking to herself now, and he wondered if she remembered he was there.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, all of a sudden, and he felt something building inside of him that was foreign and, if he had to admit it, a little frightening.

When she turned to him, a questioning look on her face and an inquiry forming on her lips, he kissed her, swallowing whatever it was she was about to say. She responded immediately against him, and he pulled her body flush against his instinctually when her lips parted against his.

He's not quite sure why he slept with her.

He had never been with a woman before.

And she was vulnerable; he couldn't shake the feeling that he had taken advantage of her.

Marius and his girlfriend, the perfect, blonde Cosette, had gotten engaged.

Eponine had showed up at his door, in tears and completely inconsolable. So he ordered pizza, and ran to the liquor store around the corner for a bottle of Jack.

Three hours later, she was straddling him on his couch and kissing him wildly, half the bottle abandoned on the table behind her.

The whole experience, as intoxicating and wonderful as it was, was like being with a hurricane. It was wet and strong and dangerous, but he loved every second of it.

When he woke the next morning, she was in his kitchen, dressed in one of his t-shirts, making breakfast.

She kissed him good morning.

He's not quite sure when he fell in love with her.

They were out all night.

It was a warm night, in the middle of spring, a summery breeze sweeping through her hair and toying with the hem of her dress as she skipped around him.

Eponine didn't want to go home, and had talked him into staying out with her all night and going down to the docks to watch the sunrise.

"I've never seen the city when it sleeps," she had said.

They weren't together, per se, but Marius was married and Eponine was putting him behind her and now whenever she saw Enjolras she kissed him. He didn't hate it.

They had sat on the docks, swinging their bare feet inches above the water.

She grabbed his hand, humming a song into the wind. She was being strange; it was that mix of happiness and sadness that he'd learned to associate with her. Like she's almost ready to be happy, almost ready to let go of her problems, but she just can't.

She took his hand as the pre-dawn sky turns purple.

She kissed his cheek and then his lips when it turns pink.

When it turned orange, its bright glow lights up her face.

When the sun broke free of the water, she laughed. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

And that was when he knew: he'd fallen for her.

He's not quite sure why she wouldn't let him save her.

Eponine was stubborn, and always refused his help. He frequently reminded her that it was his job to help people, that it was his calling, but she would just snap at him that "a calling is a thing for entitled bourgeois boys," and that those he was "called" to help did not always want it.

When her little brother died, hit by a car in the middle of the night, he was not sure she'd ever come back to him.

She pushed him away. Stopped seeing him, stopped meeting him for baseball or soccer, stopped coming to his games and stopped showing up to her own. She wouldn't even answer her calls. Nor would she talk to any of her other friends.

Musichetta, her soccer friend, and Joly were dating, and even Musichetta had not heard from her in weeks.

When he finally saw her again, her face was gaunt. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, and hadn't eaten in weeks. Her already thin frame clung to her bones, her cheeks were sunken in, her hair was dirty and unkempt, and her hollow eyes had dark circles.

He didn't know how to save her, but for god's sake he tried.

He's not quite sure why she left him.

It isn't fair – that's the only thought that's cycling through his mind right now.

He's been sitting in this chair for, well, he doesn't even know how long. His friends keep coming to check on him, but he barely hears them. They can't say anything helpful anyway. They don't know.

All he can think of is her, of those precious moments by her side, as he stares straight ahead.

Directly in front of him is her casket. And he can't take his eyes off it, off her lifeless body laying there for those attending the wake to gawk and cry over.

He can't cry, he can't eat, he can't feel. He briefly wonders if this was how it was for her when little Gavroche was killed, and if that was the straw that broke the camel's back in her life.

He wonders, much more extensively, why he couldn't save her. He was always reminding her that saving people was all he wanted to do. He just wanted to help.

Why hadn't he been able to help her?

It was a sunny afternoon. They were sitting on the stairs of her fire escape. She was under his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Not everyone wants to be saved, Enj," she told him. "Not everyone will let you."

"As long as you let me save you, that's fine," he replied.

She said nothing for a long while. "It might be too late for that," she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

And it was. It was far too late.

She was gone.

The only woman he had ever loved, ever cared for, ever had time for, was dead.

This was a woman who had opened up an entire new world for him, and he would never see her again.

He's not sure what comes next; now that he's lived in this world of hers, he isn't sure if he can live without her.

When he's angry at her, angrier than he's ever been before, he curses her name, screaming at her ghost for leaving him behind, for ruining his life.

He hates her; she destroyed everything about him, everything he was, and left this empty shell behind. He was fine before - he didn't know what he was missing, and ignorance truly was bliss. He was settled in his life. But then she appeared in it, and turned it upside-down.

He tries to breathe.

Azlema, her younger sister, walks up to him.

She wraps herself around him, and he lets her, squeezing her tightly. She, of course, knew Eponine too (in a way that his friends didn't), and just as he lost the love of his life, she lost her older sister - and her baby brother. So she understands.

"She loved you, Enjolras," Azelma murmurs, her voice shaking with emotion and thick with the tears that spill from her eyes. "I know she never told you, but she told me. She loved you, and she would've wanted you to know."

He cries.

He's not quite sure how he picks up the pieces.

It's been forever, but it's also been no time at all.

His nights are cold and lonely, and his days are torture.

Grantaire has moved in with him, though perhaps that wasn't the best decision on the part of his friends, as the other man is so full of anger and sadness himself that all they do is spend their time drinking.

Combeferre seems to catch on, because then he comes to stay, too.

Suddenly, he's forced to eat the food Combeferre has cooked. He's forced to look at Grantaire's artwork and give his opinions, he's forced to go to work and do a good job again.

He's forced to look at her photographs every day (but that one he does to himself), too. In them, she seems happy. She's bright and beautiful and alive. God, she used to be so alive, even when she was miserable, even when she was depressed. She could be in the worst mood, but being around her was like being in the middle of a beautiful storm.

He misses that.

Eventually, Courfeyrac convinces him to come play a pickup game.

It feels good, being back on the diamond. The power of the ball as it flies from his hand, the feel of the wind in his face as he runs from plate to plate. He especially likes being at bat, because smacking that fucking ball into oblivion is suddenly the most therapeutic thing.

And then the game is over and his friends leave and he's slamming his stupid bat into the ground, raging in the middle of the field, screaming at her at the top of his lungs and undoubtedly causing quite the scene.

He collapses, and then someone is there – Jehan, perhaps? – speaking to him, trying to calm him.

But what does it is Eponine.

No, she's not there, of course, but he sees her team playing soccer on the next field. Or maybe it's a different team, he isn't sure if her friends play here anymore.

He looks up into the overcast sky, closing his eyes to the clouds, and can almost hear her laughter carried to him on the wind.

He goes home, pulls out the trophies he took from her apartment and those he took from his parents' house. He places them in pairs around the apartment, wherever they fit - his next to hers and hers next to his wherever he can find the room for them.

"They help me remember a time when I was happy," she had said that first time he kissed her.

And she was right.

There they were, once again – playing baseball, playing soccer together, just like when they had become friends. This time, however, their endless games were in his apartment. But looking at their trophies together was, for some stupid reason, extremely comforting. It made him feel like she was there, in these dumb objects she had been so proud of.

He sees her in them. They make him think of her. And he misses her, he does, but she would want him to be okay.

She would want him to keep on playing, because she wasn't able to.

And that's exactly what he's going to do.

Fin.

#enjonine #enjonine fanfic #enjonine fic #enjonine fanfiction #e/e #é/e #eponine x enjolras #enjolras x eponine

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hyperpsychomaniac · 2 years

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Flight or Flight - Chapter 2

DT17 Fanfiction

Summary: When Della discovers her childhood hero, Ripcord McQuack, will fly Scrooge's new aeroplane at an upcoming airshow, she weasels her way into a meeting with Scrooge and the aeroplane's lead designer, Birdie McQuack. But the McQuacks have a request: that Della set up a meeting with their son, Launchpad, who they've been in contact with but has actively avoided seeing them in person.

Author's note: Thanks for waiting for me to finally get back to this guys. Got distracted. I do intend to finish this. Dropping some backstory this chapter. Buckle in.

Chapter 1

***

Launchpad settled back against the car. "You see, my dad was Ripcord McQuack."

Dewey blinked up at him. "Wait, you mean the guy Mom was going on about? He's your father? Why didn't you say anything?"

Launchpad shrugged. "He was a famous stunt pilot. Back when I was a kid. You would've loved him. And so did I. So I told Dad I wanted to be a pilot, just like him. I suppose I should've been more specific. I should've said, 'Dad, I want you to teach me to be a pilot, just like you!'

"But, my parents seemed thrilled, especially Dad. And they put me into flight training. I got to fly an aeroplane, so that was pretty fun. I was having a ball.

"But I don't think my instructor enjoyed it as much. He was always yelling at me and wouldn't really let me land the plane, even though he'd started letting some other students do it.

"And then, well, I guess he must've spoken to my parents. Because one evening they called me into the living room..."

***

Launchpad wondered if maybe he was in trouble. But his parents were home, together for once. They wanted to spend some time with him. He was happy for that, at the least.

Until his father spoke. "Launchpad," said Ripcord, "We're pulling you out of flight school."

"What?" Launchpad stared at his parents, where they sat on the double couch. Their faces were serious; they weren't teasing him. "Why? Wait…" And the faintest flutter of hope stirred inside him. "Dad? Does this mean you're going to teach me instead?"

"You know I don't have time for that." His father's words were spoken gently, but they still cut. He never had time. Not for that. Not for him. "You know how much training I've got on for this upcoming airshow, and…"

"Rip," Birdie said firmly, putting a hand on his knee. "We're not talking about you, okay? Launchpad, it's just, well, you know you're a little bit behind the rest of the class, right?"

"More than a bit," said Ripcord.

"But I'm learning! I nearly landed the plane, but the instructor took it off me at the last second. Besides, I'm a bit behind in school too. And you're not pulling me out of that."

Ripcord frowned. "Wait, when did you fall behind again? Why am I only hearing about this now?"

Oops.

Birdie tapped her knuckles against the side of Ripcord's leg. "He's doing as well as he always does. Maybe if you were home a bit more…"

"You can talk," Ripcord growled at her.

"But who's going to teach me?" Launchpad said, a little loudly. He had to grab his parents' attention before they started fighting. He let them fight far too often. But he could never quite figure out what it was he did that kept making them so angry with each other. This time, however, they calmed and turned back to him.

"Listen, son," said Ripcord, leaning forward. "Flying is fun, yeah. And you need to be trained to do it properly. But it also takes a little… raw talent. Sometimes, it takes a little for that to shine through, and sometimes…."

"We just don't want you to be disappointed," said Birdie. "You can try something else. We'll support you. But…"

"… you're just not cut out for flying," Ripcord finished sharply, ignoring the glare his wife gave him. "You're not going back to flight school."

Launchpad shot to his feet. "I can do it, Dad! You're such a good pilot. I've watched every one of your stunts, and if you just taught me…"

"I told you I don't have time for that."

Launchpad's fists balled at his sides. "You never have time!" The words exploded out before he could stop them. And for once, he didn't care. "You're always at your stupid airshows!"

Ripcord towered over his son. "Hey! If it wasn't for my stupid airshows, we wouldn't have enough money to send you to flight school or any other…"

"Your airshows?!" Birdie jumped up as well. And though her husband dwarfed her, she squared right up to him. "Cut that man of the house crap. I earn a damn sight more than you with all your showboating…"

"Well, it took you long enough! How many bloody years does it take to learn how to… you know what? I still don't understand what the hell engineers do except take twice as long to tell you somethings broken, and they don't know how to fix it either!"

"I could've finished in half the time if I didn't have to do everything around here!"

"Maybe if you'd been here for our son a bit more when he was growing up like you're supposed to…."

"Well, maybe I could've been if you'd had your head screwed on straight and signed a decent contract."

"I can fly a plane!" Launchpad shouted, but of course, no one listened to him. If he was going to get his parents to listen, if he was going to fly just like Dad did, he'd have to do something drastic.

***

"So I walked right out, and I don't think Mom and Dad even noticed at first. Either that or they thought I wanted my space. I think it was the airfield that told them where I was."

"The airfield?" said Dewey.

"Yeah," Launchpad drew a deep breath. "You got to understand. I was really upset. At first, when I asked them if I could train to be a pilot, I just wanted to get in a plane so I could be like my Dad. And, you know, so I’d have something to talk to him about. I mean, planes were everything to him. It was all he seemed to care about. But then, I got in one and, it was just so much fun!"

"Of course, it's fun!" said Dewey. "I get it too. I love flying. I don't know what I'd do if Mom told me I couldn't fly anymore."

"Well, I went down to the airfield, and I… I stole an aeroplane. I didn't mean to take it far or anything. I just took her out of the hanger, started her up, and sat there on the runway. Everyone was yelling at me. I think I blocked everything up."

"What happened?"

"Well, it worked. I got my parents' attention."

***

Launchpad gripped the steering yoke. Even over the buzz of the propellers, he could hear the ground crew. They'd found a megaphone and were not hesitating to use it to abuse the kid complicating their job, right on quitting time. Launchpad had no intention of listening to any of it. Not until he heard one voice.

"Launchpad, son, get out of the plane!" Ripcord held the megaphone, standing there with the ground crew and Birdie at his side.

Launchpad rolled down the window. "No! You're going to make me quit flight school!"

"You're only going to fail. You're not cut out to be a pilot. But, look, that's okay…"

"No, it's not. You think just cause you can do it, I can't!"

"That's not it!"

Ripcord's friends, the other stunt pilots, wandered over, along with their manager, Gasolini. "What's the holdup!" Gasolini barked. "McQuack, why is your kid on my runway without clearance?"

"We're dealing with it," said Ripcord. Both their voices were caught up by the megaphone.

"Seems he wants to show off. I wonder who he gets that from? But looks like a discipline issue. Doesn't seem too bright from what I hear. So what's wrong, you not man enough to control your own family?"

Ripcord scowled, then lifted the megaphone again. "Launchpad! Get the hell out of that plane, or I swear…"

Birdie shoved him in the arm. There was more giggling, ribbing and comments going on between the rest of the pilots behind them, though Launchpad couldn't quite hear them.

"Hey! Do any of you have kids? Well then, shut the hell up!" Ripcord raised the megaphone again. "Launchpad, I get you're upset. I'm not mad; I just want to help. Just get the aeroplane off the runway and shut her down, please? Then we'll talk, I promise."

Launchpad gulped. His Dad was talking to him, finally. Promising they'd talk more. That had to mean something, right? But it didn't quite seem real. He'd tried to get his Dad to talk, to spend time with him, for years. It couldn't be that easy. "I don't believe you!"

"What?"

"I don't believe you! You never wanted to talk to me. You're never home. It's like Mom's said, you're always hanging out with these losers. You just want me to stop making you look bad in front of your friends. But I want to fly a plane, just like you, and the only way you'll believe me is if I show you."

Launchpad wound up the window. He eased up the throttle, wobbling across the runway, and pulled the tiny aeroplane into the air. His heart hammered in his chest. Takeoff had been a little harder without his instructor, but he'd done it.

Launchpad banked around the airfield, teeth gritted. The tower was telling other planes to stay clear. At least they weren't yelling at him like the ground crew. They also gave two more planes clearance for takeoff.

"Launchpad." Ripcord's voice came over the radio. "We're up here with you, son."

A second aeroplane, a slightly smaller stunt plane, soared into view. Launchpad grinned. "See Dad, I can fly!"

"That's great, sweetheart." Birdie fell in beside him as well. "And we will talk about you flying. Let's just get you down and…"

"Do you really think we should reward him?"

"I think there's a bit more going on here, Rip."

Something blinked on Launchpad's console. "Um, what does that mean?"

"What, sweetheart?"

"There's a light flashing?"

"Did you do a prestart?" Ripcord grumbled.

Launchpad gulped. He hadn’t quite got his head around that process yet, though it had been one of the first things his instructor had tried to teach him. In his hurry to prove himself to his father, he'd forgotten. "No."

"Like you do prestarts," Birdie shot back at her husband. "Forget about it, sweetheart. We'll just land, and then you won't have to worry about it. And we'll talk then, promise."

"Okay, thanks, Mom. I… wait, land!" Launchpad's blood ran cold.

"Yeah," said Ripcord. "How did you think you were going to get down from here?"

"I don't know how to land yet! My instructor was trying to teach me, and then he said…"

"Okay, Launchpad, calm down," said Ripcord, and even with the static of the radio, Launchpad could hear his voice soften. "I… I'm sorry, okay? You're right. I don't always give you as much attention as you deserve. And I'm trying to do better. But I think I get what you've been trying to tell me."

"Yeah?"

"You want your old man to teach you how to land a plane, yeah?"

"Yes!" Tears sprung to Launchpad's eyes. "Dad, that's all I wanted."

"Okay. I'm going to show you a little trick me and the boys have been practising. I'll guide you in, so you don't get scared, and you'll know exactly what to do. Head for the runway. Birdie, I want you to pull in under his left wingtip."

Launchpad circled around and headed for the runway. Mom pulled up on his left, Dad on his right. Both their wings came under his. They were almost touching his plane, though Launchpad was pretty sure there was still a minimal gap. Still, it felt like his parents were holding him up, and he immediately felt safer.

"Okay, I just need you to ease back on the throttle a bit."

"Ripcord, he's not a stunt pilot, and neither am I."

Launchpad pushed the throttle knob in.

"What are you, the other way! We need to slow down!" Ripcord's voice tore through the radio, and Launchpad's stomach twisted up in knots.

"What are you even trying to get us to do?" said Birdie. "Ripcord McQuack, if you are showing off for your friends, I swear…"

"Will you shut up for once in your life and listen to me?!"

"We need to get him to land the plane safely! Not pull off one of your stupid tricks."

"I'm Ripcord bloody McQuack! I am the best pilot on this damned airfield, and if I want to show my son how to land a plane with a little bit of flair, then I can..."

"You idiot! You are not in control of this!"

"I… I'm not…" Ripcord's voice wavered, and then the channel cut out.

Launchpad hands trembled on the control yoke. A third of the runway had already torn past beneath their wheels as they barreled ever closer to the hurricane fence, bushes and marshland at the runways end. "Dad?"

There was static for a brief few seconds. Then Birdie's stained voice cut in. "Ripcord! We're all up in each other's wings. You have got to tell Launchpad how to land like this. I cannot do this for you."

"Dad?" Launchpad said, and his voice cracked. "I don't know what to do. I need your help."

The radio buzzed static. Once again, his father ignored him. So Launchpad did what he'd tried to do when his instructor had snatched the controls back from him. He gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and slammed the aeroplane down onto the rapidly disappearing runway. And he dragged his parents' planes down with him in a tangle of wings, metal and screaming engines.

***

"You crashed the plane."

Launchpad hung his head. "Yeah. All three of them at once. And I was just learning to fly. So I wasn't as good at crashing as I am now."

"Were your parents okay?"

"Sort of. We all ended up in hospital. Mom and me, we were just a bit shaken up. They pretty much let us out right away. But Dad, Dad broke his leg really bad. And he had the big airshow coming up he was training for, and I could tell it upset him."

"Was he really angry?" Dewey burst in. "I mean, it wasn't like you did it on purpose."

"Actually, they weren't that mad. I mean, I didn't get to go back to flight training. But that wasn't because of Mom and Dad; I got banned from the airfield. But… well, Dad was recovering, so he was home a lot more. He still spent more time with Loopey than me, but she was younger, so… but he was talking to me more too. And, and I think he was actually listening, for once. And Mom got this promotion at work, so she was getting paid more, but she also wasn't doing any overtime, so she was home a lot more too and… you know, we'd watch movies and stuff together, and…"

Launchpad folded his arms across his chest. "It actually felt like we were a family for once."

"So, what happened?"

"Dad wasn't mad. But he just seemed… I don't know, sad? He was quieter than usual, and he'd talk about stuff other than planes. But when he started getting better, he was going and doing stuff at the airfield, not as much as before, because he wasn't training for the airshow, but… it seemed like it was stressing him out. So, one evening, he left the house because he said he needed some air. And I followed him."

"Where'd he go?"

"I found him at the airfield, in the hanger where his manager kept all the planes."

***

Launchpad slipped into the hanger. His Dad had never taken him here, though he knew it was where the stunt planes were kept. Tarps covered some in the corner. The hanger was quiet, and for a moment, Launchpad thought he must've been mistaken. His father hadn't come here. Then he heard his voice.

"You know there is no way I am going to make the next airshow, Gasolini."

Launchpad crept around the nearest plane. There was his Dad, his back to him. He wasn't talking face to face with his manager; he was on the phone. He leaned one shoulder against the wall, the handset to his ear.

A pause. "I don't care about the contract. Good luck making that thing stick. My legs busted up good. And I can't fly a plane in an airshow like this."

Another pause. "I… I don't know."

Launchpad shrunk back. He shouldn't be here. This was a private conversation. But he didn't want to leave either; he wanted to check his Dad was okay.

"You what!?" Ripcord exploded. "You have no right talking to my doctor! He has no right talking to you and… and I don't care! I can't… my leg's busted, and I can't fly these stupid, tiny planes. I never should have signed that contract. You're a weasling little jerk, and… it doesn't even matter. I can't fly them, okay? You'll have to find some other gullible, good looking idiot!" And he slammed the phone down, straight through its cradle and into the wall.

"Dad?"

Ripcord spun around, chest heaving. He held a bottle in his hand. He blinked like it took him a second to realise he wasn't alone. "Launchpad, what are you doing here, son?"

"You seemed sad at dinner. I wanted to see if you were okay?"

"Am I okay? Heh. Am I okay?" Ripcord looked at the bottle, glanced up at Launchpad then threw the half-empty bottle into a trash bin. "Well, I only just told my good-for-nothing manager I can't make the next airshow."

"Aw, Dad, I'm sorry. I know you were really looking forward to it." Launchpad reached out tentatively for his father's arm. His stomach dipped as his father shifted his weight back, moving out of his reach.

Ripcord walked over to one of the planes and rested a hand against its wing. It was an old biplane, a rusted orange with gold highlights. Despite its age, it could really turn a stunt with the right pilot. Launchpad recognised it; he knew his father flew it a lot, though he had only seen her up close on TV. "That's your plane, isn't it? The Joyrider? It looks really cool."

"My plane. Hah. Don't let Gasoloin hear you say that. I only flew it." He slowly removed his hand. "But now I can't."

Launchpad's shoulders slumped. "Because I made us crash, and you got hurt. Dad, I'm so so sorry. But, there's always next year, right?"

"I can't fly these planes again. Not just this year. Not ever."

"But… but why?"

Ripcord whirled around. "I tried, okay? I tried! With Gasolini harassing me and everything. But I can't! I can't even get in the cockpit, far less get one in the air. You were there. I busted my leg. Right? That's a legitimate reason? Isn't it?! And I can't… it just won't work with these small planes… I…" He turned back to the plane and ran his hand over the wing. His lip trembled, and tears sprung to his eyes.

Launchpad's gut tightened. He'd known something was wrong. He'd been flying less than a month, but the thought of losing that had driven him to steal an aeroplane. For his father… flying was his life. "Dad. I'm so sorry." He reached out a hand and put it on his father's arm. "Don't cry…"

Ripcord jerked his arm away. "I'm not crying! I'm a man. Why'd you have to steal that stupid plane, huh?"

"I wanted to fly, just like you…."

"Yeah, well, so do I." Ripcord's fists bunched at his sides, and he loomed over him. "And now I can't. Not like this. I tried, LP. I tried really, really hard and… I can't and…"

"Dad…"

His father turned his back to him. "You did that to me."

"I'm sorry." And, one last time, Launchpad reached out for his father.

Ripcord shrugged him off. "I don't want you here. Leave."

"Dad…" Launchpad stomach plummeted from beneath him. He stared at the back of his father's broad shoulders and willed him to turn around, to look at him, to listen to him.

"I said go! I don't want you… Get the hell out of here."

***

"So I left," Launchpad finished.

"The hanger?"

"Duckburg."

Something thumped into Launchpad's arm; Dewey clung to him. "Aw, LP. I'm sorry. How old were you?"

"I'd just turned 16."

"But, you were still a kid! Are you sure your dad wanted you to leave?"

"He said he didn't want me." It had always been at the back of Launchpad’s mind, growing up. Had his father really wanted him? Had Mom? After all, why would Dad have focused so much attention on flying rather than his own family? His father's words to him in the hanger that night had not come as a surprise. "Besides," he said quickly, "Flying those stunt planes was my dad's life. I ruined that for him. And neither he or Mom came for me after I left, so…."

Dewey turned the flyer over in his hands, smoothing out creases. Then he held it out to Launchpad again. "What about Loopey?"

"She was the only one who tried to get me to stay."

****

"Launchpad, what are you doing?" His little sister stood behind him as he crammed VHS tapes from under the TV into his tattered duffel bag on top of the underwear and bags of chips he'd already packed.

"I'm leaving, Loopey."

"But why?"

"Dad told me too." He slung the bag over his shoulder and pushed past her.

Loopey grappled onto his legs. "Don't go."

Launchpad knelt down and ran his hands through her hair. "Look after Mom and Dad, okay? I…" Tears filled his eyes, and he gripped Loopey tight to his chest. "I love you Loops… in case no one else here tells you… I love you…" And he got up, walked out and didn't look back.

***

Launchpad fingered the flyer. "I bailed on her."

"You were upset." Dewey stood to his feet. He frowned down at Launchpad, hands on his hips. "And what does seeing your sister have to do with your stupid parents anyway?"

"Huh?"

"I don't see their names on that run sheet, do you? Do you have any reason to think they'll be there?"

"No, I don't think they go to airshows anymore."

"Well, then why can't you see Loopey? I get your parents were terrible, and that really sucks. And I can't believe you went through that, but just because your parents sucked, that doesn't mean it should mess up your relationship with your sister, right?"

Launchpad stood slowly to his feet. He felt something stir down inside of him. "What if she doesn't want to see me?"

"There's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Launchpad squared his shoulders. "You're right, Dewey. I… I'm going to the airshow!"

Dewey grinned. "This is going to be so much fun! You'll see your sister, but I bet you'll enjoy the planes too."

"Hey, I'll try."

Della burst into the garage, waving a flyer above her head. "Hey! Check it out!" she said, her voice weirdly stilted. "The airshow is in town! Wouldn't it be great if…"

"Mom! Launchpad is going to come to the airshow this year! Isn't that great?"

"He's…" Della lowered the flyer, and some of her energy seemed to drop off. "That's actually really great. I'm glad, LP. I'm sure you'll, um… it'll be good for you… with all the aeroplanes, I mean, and er…" She turned her attention to Dewey. "Aw, kid, thank you." She grabbed him up in a hug.

"For what?"

"Um, nothing. I just love you."

"Mom, I know, not in front of LP."

Launchpad smiled faintly. Della was a good parent, and he was glad Dewey and his brothers had her. They really didn't know how lucky they were. Imagine having with Loopey what Dewey had with his brothers? He could only hope, but even the thought of seeing her brought a warm feeling to his chest. Maybe going to the airshow wouldn't be so bad after all.

***

Chapter 3

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