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wh00pwh00p · 3 months

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@glupiypryanik THIS IS FOR YOU (n also a great excuse to info dump about my babies)

so i have technically 5 OC worlds (minus dnd characters), i say technically 5 because i post like 4 of them here??? the other one is mainly written so i dont have a lot of art of them. but i also have ideas for how id love to present these worlds in the future..... like making some into shows or comics (i probably wont ever do that bc time but one can dream)

im ganna cover them one world at a time from least to most info??? i think?? its a long one.... much longer than i thought.... (i might just keep adding as characters get more info n stuff)

Nova & Circus (doesn't have an actual name yet) :

Nova and circus are roommates n live in a world which is like a near future with lots of built up places heavily based on cities like Tokyo, Seoul, New York and LA in there too. very entertainment industry heavy. Nova is an Idol (i specifically draw from the aesthetics of J-pop idols and a little from K-pop idols) she is very busy all the time which leads to her being very tired when shes not doing work. she also very much enjoys her work and is relatively popular. Circus is a streamer but does like live radio type streams, he used to be a DJ and producer before he started his own thing and now he also helps produce some of Novas music. hes much better at doing his own thing and he doesnt work well with like strict schedules and such. do they have to live together? no, they both make more than enough to live separately and be pretty well off. are they living together because they are dating? maybe but dating is taken very seriously within the Idol scene and it could cause problems for both of them if they were dating, which they are definitely not doing (/s)

Heavens Finest :

oh Delilah. Heaven in this universe isn't somewhere for the dead but more so a place for angels, these angels have a normal working society where everyone is delegated jobs. Delilah was delegated the job of a guardian angel, guardian angels in this universe are the beings that give you a sense of safety, they are the beings that give you the impulse to look before crossing the road or to watch your step. Delilah is horrifically bad at this (partially on purpose). everyone Delilah is sent to keep safe dies within 2-3 business days because she's either gotten to work late or was far too preoccupied doing literally anything else than her job. however shes also the queen of weaponised incompetence, every time her boss threatens to move her to another sector she happily reminds them that she will screw up anything, anywhere, anytime and out of pure fear theyve had to keep her on. as Delilahs story continues her boss gives her an ultimatum: If the next person she guards dies within a week they will let her go. Delilah happily accepts however what she doesnt realise is that shes been assigned the stupidest yet seemingly invincible guy who just. wont. die. her story evolves from her passively letting people die to her straight up trying to kill this guy within a week.

Bp&I :

this universe is a pretty normal modern world filled with halloween monsters. Skeletons, ghosts, vampires, werewolves, think of any classic scary monster n they are here. the main groups (the biggest groups) are: werewolves, vampires, skeletons, witches, zombies, demons, ghosts, sirens and ogres. sometimes (like a 1/1000 chance) a monster can have a seconds supernatural ability, these can be anything from turning invisible to being able to speak to cats. this universe exists alongside our own, for some this is their afterlife and for others our universe is a source of food (especially for vampires and sirens). another big part of this universe are the Fighting Tournaments. every month has a tournament on the last week of the month. these tournaments consist of one race (eg: an entire vampire tournament, an entire ghost tournament so on so on) this is primarily to do with the fact that some races are less or more effected by other races (eg: ghosts cant really be touched by non ghosts unless the ghost puts energy into being a physical thing and this also effects them using objects and such or vampires are more vulnerable to things like fire but demons are immune). these tornaments give non ranked fighters the ability to enter the ranked places. once a year their is a 'Ranked only' tournament which takes place over most of the month where the top 10 from each race compete to take each others rank. Rank 0s are the highest ranks and essentially run the world. Bloodpact is a vampire who also has the supernatural ability of a necromancer, shes able to bring back people she has drank from to act as undead slaves. Bp holds the 3rd spot within the vampire ranks, shes known for having an energetic and deeply chaotic personality and fighting style. her main weapon is a harley quin-esque hammer. Ink could not be further from Bp if they tried. Bp essentially picked Ink of the street to be their mentor. Ink is a ghost with the ability to shapeshift and has always wanted to be a high rank fighter after waking up here after dying. Ink is extremely chill n mildly worried about Bps caffeine addiction.

tbt the best way i can describe these two is 'Autism n ADHD solidarity' Bp may be Inks mentor but i think ink is objectively more responsible. Bp does also have a manager to keep her (and now Ink) on track in their activities.

The Bastards :

the name sounds mean but trust me they deserve it.

this story takes place on a planet which is made up of a single planet which is mainly desert but has some very large interconnected cities and towns within large bubble like structures which create almost fake environments. they can produce different types of weather and grow crops within them. however people do live outside of these bubbles, in the desert areas. this is a modern fantasy-esque space setting (a lot ik) think like Coruscant from star wars mixed with the envoriment in the Darling in the Franxx enviroment. large pockets of perfect land and infrastructure held within localised stationary domes the capability to mimic different enviroments and weather.

this is a rough idea of what its probably laid out like:

the agriculture domes are the least populated, dominated by fields and farms. these farms are able to produce most types of vegetation and can produce enough food for the vast majority of the planet.

main cities and sub cities have very high population densities (like i said think coruscant) minor cities are like the usual cities we have (think new york and london) the towns are less dense more like large sub urbs.

the smallest domes are either villages or business quarters.

the small red cubes/rectangles are settlements outside of the domes, these houses may seem to be of lower quality than the ones in the dome but theyre just much older and built for the desert conditions.

there is one main intergalactic ship dock far from the main urban areas however some of the outer dome settlements have their own landing zones for their own ships or to get deliveries

talon lives outside of the domes, he and his dad run a ranch with a focus in raising and breeding the older more traditional native breeds.

Heartstopper lives in the main city in a relatively nice penthouse gifted to her by her parents before they disowned her

cat scratch lives in the main city in a dingy basement apartment in the....not so nice parts of the main city Cat Scratch, Talon and Heartstopper all despise each other.

(arrows pointing to someone is why they hate the person its pointing to, it was just far easier to put into a diagram.)

all three of them have become bounty hunters due to life circumstances and had a pretty bad kill on sight mentality towards each other however one day they are essentially arrested and given the choice to either go to jail for the rest of their lives or become a unit to fight more dangerous crime groups. as much as they all hate each other they all hated the idea of prison more.

now these characters are supposed to be bad people however i wanted to build them in a way that gave them stories which are just bad life circumstances or events and essentially what would happen if people neglect the fact that they are deeply effected by these things and continue to bottle it up and ignore it instead of... yk.... going to therapy. just keep this in mind as i explain them.

Cat Scratch was orphaned at a very young age, never stayed in one place for long and was always bouncing homes or families. all this contributed to them harbouring a pretty strong hatred towards the world, they blamed other people their entire life, never trusted anyone and became just very violent as an outcome. as previously mentioned they were bullied during school pretty heavily by talon n his group of goons TM which onl;y made this worse as she then had to physically fight these people. as they grew up they met new people, they met heartstopper (though she wasnt heartstopper then) and a guy who they both fell for. cat scratch believed they should have him and they did get him eventually even if it did destroy their friendship with heartstopper and required a few extra steps. this didnt last long however and eventually Cat Scratch had to make it by themselves... again. they turned to bounty hunting as it was profitable enough to keep them off the streets and... a good way to get some anger out...even if it was pretty violent.

Heartstopper had a pretty good upbringing, her family was upper class and were relatively wealthy and yes maybe she had to fight for attention sometimes between her and her multiple siblings but it was never bad. she always had a knack for lying though, just little white lies here and there and pocketing a couple small things here and there (only a stick of gum or a lipstick here and there). she grew up got a good education, great grades and eventually a good job with even better money and met new people. she met cat scratch and a guy they both fell for. heartstopper knew they both had the same feeling but he obviously chose her and she hoped that cat scratch understood that. a little bit later and they were engaged and happy. only what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life became the beginning of the end. he never turned up. not only did he never turn up but no less than a week later sensitive private images, videos, messages were suddenly not so private. the emails to her work, the lies within these emails lined with sensitive content were the final straw. her family had turned their backs on her, her job had let her go and frankly she had nothing else. these things were her life. she had no money, no life and no aspirations so she said fuck it and became a bounty hunter... a much less violent one but a snake in long grass type. if lies were so easily spread about her, then why not everyone else.

Talon would tell you he had a normal upbringing, he didnt. hid mother left when he was very young and has only ever lived with his dad on their ranch. talons dad isnt exactly a good person, pretty horrible honestly, a notorious bigot but talon didnt see that at the end of the day he was his dad and that was all he had. par a few animals and his bird, rogue, obviously. talon knew he was different. not really because of his physical appearance, horns n tails were rather common at his school but inwardly he was conscious about something. it annoyed him when he saw people who were seemingly comfortable in their skin and cat scratch was one of them. it annoyed him that they would walk around as if they had nothing to lose, how theyd look at others with disgust as if they felt like they were above others. one day he and his friends, admittedly, got a little too rough. turned out this cat has much sharper claws than they thought. the next thing talon was aware of was lightning like pain stemming from his spine and the fact that it ceased as soon as he screamed in pain as if they realised he was awake and stopped. after the pain he realised he couldnt notice anything else, he couldnt see anything else. later hed be told his eyesight was unrecoverable and that his previously tan complexion and brunette hair were now stark white and his horns and spines a silver colour. as shit as it is to loose your eyes you get used to it, you find other means of navigating, for talon it was rogue. like a guide bird if you will. she even helped with using firearms, some things were off the table but if he could set up a place to camp out rogue helped with aiming and guiding him on where to shoot through sound or touch. as talon grew up he learned to ignore the feeling that he was different, as his dad grew old he took on more responsibilities around the ranch and just didnt have time to think about it anymore. money got tight a couple times and talon decided he needed to pick up a side hustle... a bounty hunter would probably make just enough.

as the story of the bastards develops they learn to trust and understand each other. they learn that at the end of the day theres not much they can do except to strive to be better.

key story moments include cat scratch almost dying due to their own reckless behaviour and having to trust the other members to not let them die and thank them for helping when they could have let them die on the mission, heartstopper fully breaking down on a mission and admits that she barely knows who she is anymore after the others confront her on her lying and manipulation of other people leading to her having to revaluate her life and open up to those around her and talon finally finds out why hes always felt different after meeting cyrus and falling pretty horrifically in love with him over the course of a short stay during a mission and having to recon with the fact that this could destroy everything hes ever known and being backed by the others in accepting himself and what he wants.

these guys are little shits but they get better n i love them, they are definitely the most in depth characters i have along with being the most depressing but i enjoy playing with the nature vs nurture aspect of terrible people yk and how some of them can get better if they only had good friends and/or therapy (dont worry i will send these idiots to therapy once theyve finished their main stories)

if you got this far heres a pic of one of my cats :3

#my silly lil guys #original character #oc #my ocs

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

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Sneaking Around | Chapter Fifteen

Lysandra’s caller ID showed up on Aelin’s phone, which she had in fact retrieved from Rowan’s earlier in the day. After a round of sex with Rowan, Aelin had eaten breakfast and walked over to pick up said phone (Rowan was too lazy to come with her), and driven back in her car.

Despite wanting to know what the hell was going on with Lysandra and Aedion, Aelin decided to wait until one of them said something to her. Which was happening now, at half past three.

“Hey Lys. Have a fun night?” Aelin couldn’t help but tease.

“Good gods yes. It was amazing.” Lysandra sounded out of breath.

Aelin answered with her usual snark, “Well good for you, darlin’, but seeing as you slept with my brother, I’d rather not hear the details.”

“Right. But holy fuck Aelin, guess what happened!”

“You two had sex. Woke up the next morning and confessed your undying love for each other. Raced into the bathroom to call me.”

Lysandra gasped. “What the hell, Aelin. Are you stalking me?”

Aelin giggled. “Oh, shit, I got it right, didn’t I? You are so predictable.”

Lys sighed. “I woke up next to him, and I laid there for a few seconds trying to figure out what the hell had happened, and then I remembered. And I looked over. And fuck, Lin, I didn’t know what to do. I debated running away, but I thought of what a coward I’d been for so long, so I poked him.” Aelin snorted here. “And he woke up and was all bleary and then he was like Oh! and then I just blurted, “I love you!” And he said it back! Fuck, who knew?”

“I know that’s supposed to be a rhetorical question, but everyone. Everyone knew.” Aelin was smirking.

“Whatever. And so I squealed and ran to the bathroom and called you. Like you said. Are you sure you don’t have cameras in here?” Lys asked.

“Yes, I do. To watch my best friend and my brother going at it,” Aelin responded dryly. “And seriously, you didn’t wake up until a few minutes ago? It’s after three.”

“Hush, I had a lot to drink. And now that I am aware of your relationship with Whitethorn, I need the details. Every freakin’ detail.”

“Maybe not on the phone when you’re camped out in my brother’s bathroom. Did you even put any clothes on?”

Lysandra snorted. “I’m too pretty for clothes.”

Aelin chuckled. “Go tell my brother he’s dumb for not making a move sooner. And shit, I owe him twenty bucks. Don’t mention that part, okay?”

A giggle escaped Lysandra. “I can’t believe you had to get him drunk and bribe him just to kiss me.”

“We Galathynius folk are always stubborn. I’m braver, though.”

Lys snorted. “You’re not wrong. Alright, thanks for the chat. Have a nice time with lover boy.”

“Oh trust me, honey, I will. Bye.”

The sound of the shower Rowan had been running stopped and a minute later he walked out in a towel. Aelin’s eyes drifted to his muscular chest. She’d had plenty of chances to look at it before, but there really was no limit to gazing at that chiseled glory.

“Like what you see?” Rowan asked teasingly.

She shamelessly replied without looking away, “Yep. And hate to break it to you, but I’m allowed to check you out; we’re dating.”

Rowan snorted and sauntered into Aelin’s bedroom. He came out a few seconds later in sweatpants and a t-shirt, basically the only thing in his wardrobe. He had brought a change of clothes with him a few days prior, and Aelin had done the same at his apartment.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever you make, dear,” Aelin replied sweetly. “And hurry, would you? I’m hungry.”

“You are wicked. But it’s Christmas Eve, so I’ll be nice.”

Aelin grinned. “For once.”

He just rolled his eyes at her and started looking through the cabinets, muttering about her abuse.

The “Christmas party” had taken place on the day before Christmas Eve, as most people didn’t want to spend Christmas Day with a bunch of drunken friends. Of the friends who didn’t travel for the holidays, Aelin and Aedion would be spending part of Christmas together as siblings. The rest Aelin would be with Rowan for. Hopefully Lys would see Aedion, but who could tell at this point? Manon liked to go out to bars on Christmas. “My favorite type of gay girl is the one who ditches everybody on the holiday to get a drink,” she always said. “The holidays are my favorite opportunities.” Everyone else always laughed at Manon’s antics.

Now, though, Aelin had a whole day to herself of Rowan.

After cereal for lunch (Rowan made a mean Cheerios bowl) and a Halloween movie (yes, on Christmas Eve - don’t judge), Aelin demanded Rowan take her on a walk.

“It’s snowing, Aelin.” Despite being late December, it hadn’t been very cold lately. Now, however, it was snowing in earnest. There was already an inch and a half on the ground and it was still going.

Aelin frowned. “That makes it even better. And remember, we need to work on your courage issues.”

Rowan scowled at her. “Enough of that.”

“It is enough when I say enough. Need I make a list of all your cowardly deeds? Let’s see; not wanting to go out in the snow now like a little baby, not telling Remelle to fuck off that one time, oh, and not asking me out for three fucking years? Also, jumping in the middle of Silence of the Lambs and-”

“Okay, that’s... we can go on a walk.”

“Yay!” Aelin brightened.

Rowan snorted. “You say that like you’re surprised. Did you ever have any doubt you’d get your way?”

“Of course not. It’s still exciting, though.”

Aelin dug through her closet, grabbing a coat, hat, scarf, and gloves. She got an extra of everything for Rowan except for the coat. Then Aelin pulled out one of her largest jackets, which happened to be neon pink, and held it beside Rowan’s towering figure. “Um, close enough?”

He sighed. “Better than freezing. I’ll take it.”

They walked down the stairs and outside. Aelin immediately started jumping around and squealing as she was pelted with snow.

“Who knew the fire-breathing bitch-queen turns into such a child in the snow?” Rowan was chuckling.

“Who doesn’t? Snow is fucking awesome.” Aelin grabbed Rowan’s arm and yanked him farther down the sidewalk and toward the park.

They spend the rest of the afternoon and part of the evening throwing snowballs and tackling each other into the snow. It was late when they entered Aelin’s apartment, took off their snow things, and ate a quick meal of pasta (neither could cook anything else). Finally, food was eaten.

“Rowan, darling,” Aelin purred.

“Yes?” he responded, a smirk on his face and an eyebrow quirked.

Aelin grinned. “It’s so cold. I was only wondering if you could be so kind as to warm me up?”

Rowan chuckled. “Anything for you, dear.” He hooked his arms under Aelin’s thighs and she instinctually wrapped her legs around his waist.

Aelin sucked on Rowan’s neck as he carried her to her bedroom. She felt satisfaction knowing it would definitely leave a mark.

Rowan placed her on the bed and climbed on top. Aelin smiled against his lips as he kissed her. “Not tonight,” she whispered, grabbing his hands before he could pull her pants off. Aelin then rolled over, pulling him with her. “I’m going to ride you tonight,” she breathed against Rowan’s neck. He let out a groan at the thought.

Rowan helped Aelin slide his sweatpants down, his underwear going with them, and he lifted his shirt off himself as Aelin stripped. Finally, they were both naked. Aelin leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed a condom. She expertly rolled it onto Rowan. He gripped her thighs and she lowered herself onto him. They both let out a groan.

Aelin started rocking her hips, drawing more noises out of him. “Oh, Aelin,” Rowan moaned. “Aelin, I love you so much.”

“Everybody does, darlin’.” Rowan just growled and slammed his hips up to meet hers.

Aelin moaned loudly. “Oh, Ro.” She braced her hands on his shoulders and kept riding him.

She was soon climaxing. He flipped them over as she moaned his name. Rowan drove his hips into Aelin several times, hard. Before long, he also reached his peak, growling as he thrust into Aelin one last time.

They lay in a pile of tangled limbs, panting. “Fucking gods,” Aelin got out between breaths.

Rowan chuckled breathily. “Damn straight.”

Aelin woke up to darkness. She glanced over and checked her phone. 5:00 am.

“Rowan, wake up!” Aelin yelled.

He jolted. “What? Aelin, what’s wrong?”

She grinned at him. “It’s Christmas!”

Rowan frowned. “That’s all? No fire? No burglar?”

She frowned as well. “What’s wrong with you? It’s Christmas,” she repeated. Aelin climbed out of bed, wearing only a t-shirt she’d pulled on the night before. She dug through her drawers for a snowman shirt to change into, as well as pants and a pair of reindeer socks.

“What time is it?” Rowan grumbled.

“It’s five.” Aelin ignored his groan at this. “Which means it time to get up and celebrate.”

“I pity whoever raised you. You must have been even worse as a child. And it’s kind of hard to celebrate when it’s the early hours of the morning and I’m trying to sleep.”

Aelin scowled. “Whatever. I’m going to go make hot chocolate.”

She did indeed make hot chocolate. And sit by the window happily reading a book. By eight o’clock, Rowan shuffled into the kitchen.

Aelin grinned. “Merry Christmas.”

He snorted. “Merry Christmas, Aelin.” He came to where she sat and wrapped an arm around her. “I love you.”

Aelin hugged him back. “Me too, Ro.”

They had a few more hours to spend together before Aelin put on a pair of snow boots, grabbed her gift for Aedion, and tromped to his apartment.

“Why are you walking, Aelin?” he asked when she appeared on his doorstep. “Did you lose your car?”

“It’s Christmas, dear brother. It’s nice outside. And don’t even comment on my pajamas, they’re comfy.”

Aedion rolled his eyes at her and let her inside. Lysandra was sitting at the counter. She turned and grinned at Aelin. “Hey, Lin. Merry Christmas. I’ll leave you two to spend your sibling time together, but I have something for you first.”

Lys had gotten Aelin a box of chocolates, making her Aelin’s new favorite person. She in turn gave Lys an expensive lipstick Lysandra had been admiring a while ago, saying she had a feeling Lys might be here.

Hugs were exchanged, and then Lys went to a back room to give the siblings some space.

“Aed, you’re my favorite brother ever,” Aelin said, giving him a hug.

Aedion snorted. “Also your only brother, but I’ll take it.” He squeezed her back.

Aelin gifted him a pair of socks with little reindeers on them (to match her own socks), getting a new series of books in return. She was an avid reader, and loved adding to her collection. Aelin stayed for several hours, then said goodbye to him and Lysandra, who were shyly smiling at each other every time their eyes met. Good grief.

Finally, she made it back to her own apartment. Upon opening the door, Aelin was greeted with Christmas lights strung all along the walls and a minature plastic tree in the middle of the room. Aelin gasped. “Ohmigosh, Rowan, did you do this?”

He was leaning against the counter smirking. “No, it was the elves.”

Aelin walled over to him and punched him in the bicep. For once, he didn’t say ‘ow.’ They were making progress. He did complain, though. “Um, you’re welcome? Also, I don’t think that’s what you’re supposed to do under mistletoe.”

Aelin looked up. Taped to the cabinet above him was indeed a strand of mistletoe. She rolled her eyes at his antics, then leaned forwards and placed a gentle kiss upon him lips. He tried to pull her in for more, but Aelin just backed away and said, “You’ll get the rest later. Now, I’m going to give you a present.”

She went to her room, put away her new books and candy, got a wrapped gift out from under her bed, and walked back into the living room. Rowan was waiting, a gift of his own on the counter next to him.

Grinning, Aelin handed him the present. He looked suspiciously at it, then unwrapped it.

And rolled his eyes at what was inside.

“I thought you needed to spice your wardrobe up a little,” Aelin said with a devious grin. He snorted, holding up the red sweater with a Christmas tree on the front. Actual minature lights were strung around the torso. They lit up when you pressed a button.

Rowan chuckled. “I love it.” He slung it on over his t-shirt and pressed the on switch. Suddenly, the light bulbs were glowing, making him look like he tripped and got tangled in a pile of Christmas lights.

He handed Aelin her present. She opened it to reveal a box of chocolates. Lys had given her the same thing, but there never was enough candy. She squealed.

Rowan smirked. “I take it you like it? Look inside.”

Curious, Aelin opened the lid to find... chocolates. And then seeing the custom order sticker on the lid she realized: “Rowan, you got me all my favorites! How did you even know which chocolates I like?”

He grinned. “Milk chocolate, pecan, almond, caramel. I’ve been paying attention. Also, the extra five dollars was worth not seeing you scowl at all of the assorted coconut.”

Aelin smiled. “They always put so many coconut candies in there and I hate them. They’re disgusting. Thank you so much, Ro. I’m warning you, though, they aren’t going to last very long.”

“I didn’t think they would,” Rowan said with a smirk. “I’ve seen you devour a large KitKat in seconds. I’ll admit, it was a little frightening.”

Aelin snorted. “I got you something else, too.” She pulled a smaller gift out of her pocket, wanting the extra one to be a surprise.

He opened it and pulled out an ornament with the inscription A + R. Aelin smiled nervously. “Perhaps a little presumptuous, but...”

Rowan looked up at Aelin and smiled widely. “Thank you, Aelin. It’s great.” He leaned down and kissed her softly. She tried to deepen the kiss, but Rowan pulled back and said, “You’ll get the rest later,” mocking her words from earlier.

Aelin tried to scowl, but it faded as Rowan walked over to the mini tree and carefully placed the ornament on a plastic branch. “Where exactly were you planning on putting this? You didn’t know I got you a tree.”

She grinned. “Planning that would have required forethought, which I do not have.”

Rowan snorted. “At least you admit it. I got you another present too.” He picked up a small box off the counter that Aelin hadn’t noticed before.

Aelin opened the box to find a necklace. She opened the locket on the end to see A + R. “We got the same inscription,” Aelin said, laughing. “It’s beautiful, Rowan.” She handed it to him and turned, pulling her hair over one shoulder.

She heard Rowan unclasp it and then he gently placed the necklace around her neck, clipping it in the back.

Aelin turned back around and lifted her hands to his face. “Merry Christmas, Rowan.”

He placed his hands on her waist and gazed lovingly into her eyes. “Merry Christmas.”

#rowaelin #tog #sneaking around #my writing

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anocchristmas · 4 years

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Merry Christmas to @katiesocs

Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly.

There was a time before 1941 when Murphy had been very excited about maybe one day meeting his soulmate. One of his eyes was a nice ocean blue and the other a deep chocolate brown. As tacky as it may have sounded, he liked both colors. It felt wrong to prefer one color over the other as it was a mystery which one belonged to his soulmate and which was his. He spent an embarrassing amount of time picturing himself with both blue eyes or both brown eyes, and picturing a soulmate with the opposite pair of eyes. He had imagined how their first meeting would go; in a small corner diner in the neighborhood, Murphy tucked in a corner sketching as a tall handsome guy leaned over to compliment his work. They’d talk and wouldn’t notice their eyes had changed until one of them pointed it out, they’d exchange numbers and eventually get married. Atleast, that’s how he hoped it would happen. Unfortunately for him, things most likely wouldn’t happen that way.

Having been in Brooklyn in 1941 and being gay made the whole concept of soulmate matching more complicated. Granted, it would have been easier to find his soulmate than be able to live a happy life with them at that time. Having to spend the rest of his life with a person who is supposed to be his match made in heaven, but being forced to hide it because of the way society viewed people like him? It terrified him. What if his soulmate couldn’t handle a life like that? What if he couldn’t? These thoughts plagued his mind every night and they only became worse when kids in his class found their soulmates.

Of course maybe he wouldn’t find his soulmate at 17, maybe he’d be older with a stable job and living somewhere where his lifestyle wouldn’t be criticized or frowned upon. Or maybe his soulmate would be someone rational enough to keep his thoughts and worries at bay. They could live in a time or place where everything would be fine. He wished he didn’t have to be old, or dead to experience something like that. Except, after receiving the beating of his life in an alley, Murphy meets Briar and is turned partially immortal. Which, cool, but also, how was he supposed to live a fulfilling life with his soulmate now? It only brought a wave of new worries and he tried not to think about them too much. Besides, he’s super strong now.

As the years passed and the color of his eyes remained unchanged, Murphy’s hope of meeting his soulmate plummeted drastically after every decade. It’s not uncommon for someone to never meet their soulmate before dying, he’d just be part of the small percentage that doesn’t. Besides, it’s not like he’d be alone. Briar had also never met her soulmate and she didn’t seem as bothered by it as Murphy. He guessed it’s because she had lived longer and had made her peace with it. He couldn’t wait to get to that point so he wouldn’t have to think about it so much. He was tired.

Eventually they had settled in a small town of Beacon Hills. They had lived in so many towns since he had become part of the clan that he’d lost count and stopped caring about the names. It wouldn’t matter anyway. They’d have to relocate after a few years when people start to question why they still look so young. Murphy had grown accustomed to it. Moving around so much had left little room for friendships and attachments. But it was also the fact that he’d outlive mostly anyone he met that held him back from socializing much. Most of his interactions were limited to the clan and anyone Briar has business with, being that he was second in command and all that. And if he sometimes ventured out by himself to be around people in hopes of casually meeting his soulmate, then that was nobody’s business.

On one of their “off” days, while Briar is out without him, Murphy finds himself becoming ansty. Nothing is easing his need to want to do something, not even drawing. He’s gone through at least half his sketchbook, but can’t seem to complete a whole sketch without giving up halfway through. Eventually he slams his pencil down on his desk and pushes the sketchbook away, cursing loudly, as one does. The clan members, Lena, Elliot, and Tipper, ignore his outburst and continue to do whatever it is their doing from where they’re lounging about in the room.

“I'll be right back” He announces. Only Tipper acknowledges him as he heads out the door.

“Don’t die!” Tipper yells out, and somehow Murphy finds that reassuring.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, given that he doesn’t really know the town well. Or at all. But the sound of faint dance music leads him to a club on the outskirts of the downtown area. There are small groups of muscled men, some nearly naked, standing outside of the building. Murphy watches for a moment before deciding to head inside. He flashes the bouncer his most current fake ID card and brushes past the tall men by the door.

The music is way too loud, with too much bass, it nearly raptures his ears. He adjusts to the noise quickly enough and bee lines to an empty corner where he can be left alone but still be able to see almost everything. If human 1941 Murphy could see him now, openly gay, sitting in a gay club, living with no fear of who he is. It’s freeing, really.

Someone sends him a drink, a lean man with light brown hair and a big smile, he waves at Murphy from the bar as the server sets the drink on the table. Murphy raises his glass as a thank you and silently hopes the guy doesn’t come over. And he doesn’t, thankfully, leaving Murphy to solitude like he’d intended.

Going to clubs isn’t something he does often, but he does like to check out the scene every couple years just to see how things are. It’s good to see how much better things have gotten since the 40s, and he’s weirdly glad that he’s been able to see firsthand how progressive people have become. Not that things are 100%, but they’re better.

He doesn’t stay long and he doesn’t finish the drink the man bought him, not that he can get drunk anyway.

Walking briskly through empty allies probably isn’t the best idea Murphy has had, given that the town is packed with hunters and other supernatural beings, but he makes it back to the forest in a breeze. It’s quiet for a moment, but the sounds of running and yelling and growling quickly reach his ears and he finds himself heading toward the noise. Another great idea on his end, really.

The scene is hectic. There’s a young woman hiding behind a tree as two figures roll around on the ground fighting. It’s hard to see much from where he’s standing, but Murphy can see one of them is losing horribly. He sees flashes of yellow and white eyes, and then the yellow is launched about 100 feet in the air and into a tree.

“Oh shit.” He says dumbly as the figure with white eyes turns to face him. He looks over at the girl still hiding, clutching the tree as if it’ll be enough to keep whatever that is away. “You should probably run.”

And then he’s rumbling with the thing too.

It’s strong, Murphy notices right away. He stumbles a bit as he tries to hold his own against it and it doesn’t take long for him to get launched like a toy, but thankfully he didn’t get thrown at a tree. Oh right. He looks over to the other person on the ground, struggling to get up. He sees the yellow eyes, fangs, and pointy ears and figures that he’s a werewolf. They’re doomed if neither of them can take this thing down together.

“Might wanna hurry up there, Larry Talbot.” He feels an uncontrollable urge to help the person, to make sure they’re okay. It’s weird and it’s gone when they push themselves off the ground to go at the creature again. Brave fucker, then.

Murphy staggers to his feet, and throws himself into the fight again. The werewolf is down on the floor in a second, falling flat on his stomach. The second it takes Murphy to look down to make sure he’s not hurt is enough time for the wendigo to crouch down and sink its teeth into Murphy’s thigh. He yells out in pain and falls to his knees because what the fuck that’s a lot of teeth.

Murphy must black out or something because the next time he opens his eyes he’s lying on the forest floor, alone. He looks around for any sign of the yellow eyed werewolf or the beast, but there’s nothing, not even a sound. The wound on his leg is almost fully healed, but Murphy can still practically feel all the teeth in his flesh, it’s gross, really. Slowly, he rises to his feet, shakes off the dirt from his clothes, fixes his hair, and heads home. Briar isn’t home yet, thankfully, so he walks straight to his room and lays on the floor.

Some time later there’s a knock on his door, which means there’s a clan meeting, so he makes his way to the living room where everyone, including Briar, is waiting. He takes a seat on the arm of the couch next to Lena and Briar takes that as a cue to start.

“There’s a wendigo loose in the area” She says. Tipper is the first to raise a hand.

“Those are the ones that shapeshift right?”

“Technically, most supernatural beings can shapeshift” Elliot replies from the opposite end of the couch. Then as an afterthought adds, “So you’re not wrong.”

“Am I ever?”

Elliot makes a face.“Well…”

Tipper glares at Elliot then turns to Lena. “Have I ever been wrong? Don’t lie.”

Lena looks at the finger Tipper is pointing at her, then looks up. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Wow. Unbelievable.”

“Wendigos live off eating human flesh” Elliot supplies, because of course Elliot knows what it is.

“Ah. Cannibals.” Tipper nods, “Hey aren’t we somehow cannibals too?”

Elliot is pinching the bridge of their nose, mentally preparing to hear whatever it is Tipper is going to say.

“I mean. Right? We drink human blood, that’s like one step away from human flesh.” Everyone groans as Tipper seems to be having a crisis. “I’m not a cannibal, but who knows.”

“Guys.” Briar warns. They all shut their mouths and go back to paying attention to what she has to say. “It’s apparently already gotten three people, including one tonight. So can we please be serious about this.”

“Wait. Was it a girl?” Murphy asks. “The one that got killed?”

Maybe he should’ve tried a little more than telling the girl to run. If she got killed because of him…. he pushes the thought away and waits for Briar’s response instead.

“No, it was a guy. He was with a girl, but I managed to get her home safely.” Briar says, then looks at Murphy. “How did you-”

Briar stops abruptly and stares with an open mouth, and soon Murphy can feel the stares from the rest of the clan. He looks over at them, then at Briar, then back.

“What the fuck are you guys staring at?” He looks down at his clothes and notices that they’ve got dirt all over and there’s a twig stuck to his sweater. “Oh. Yeah I might’ve snuck out and fought the wendi-whatever”

Apparently that isn’t enough of an answer because they’re still staring at him as if he’d grown a second head. “What? Stop fuckin looking at me like that”

“Murph….” Briar begins, but can’t seem to get the words out. Now they’re all starting to freak him out.

“If no one tells me what the fuck is going on i’m going to-“

“Bro. Your eyes.” Tipper says. And what? what about them?

“Okay?” He’s a little panicked now. Are they bruised or something? The fuck.

“They’re both blue” Elliot adds.

Both blue. What the fuck? He nearly throws up, for some reason. How did he manage to meet his soulmate and miss it? Fuck.

“Fuck” He breathes out as he runs his fingers through his hair, going over all the events from tonight. Who could it have been? Somehow the wendigo situation is put on hold and they're all trying to figure out who the lucky guy might’ve been. They probe him for questions and he answers as best he can because honestly the only thing on his mind is What The Fuck?

They somehow narrow it down to five people. Murphy is still in shock an hour later, and stares at the wall they’ve made into their mystery board. Or whatever. It’s full of post-its of different colors and sizes, most with their names crossed out. The five left on the board are moved to the center, all in order of most likely to least likely. Tipper is the most excited about it, having gone through at least three red bulls.

Server Bar Guy Bouncer Wendigo Yellow Eye Guy

“We’re going to find this dude, alright? I swear to you.” Tipper holds Murphys face in their hands, Murphy swats them away and stands. He apparently hadn’t moved since he found out about his eyes.

“Alright alright get back” He straightens his jacket and moves closer to the wall. He squints at one of the names. “Seriously? The Wendigo?” The Wendigo is my soulmate?”

“It could be. Can’t rule anyone out”

“That’s…” Murphy shakes his head and sighs. “Alright. I guess. Whatever.”

They all go into a whole discussion about how they’re going to track down every single person on the list and Murphy is surprised that Briar is joining in on their hijinks. Their excitement is kind of contagious, he finds himself buzzing. or shaking. He can’t tell.

“Shouldn’t the cannibal be first on the list? since it’s, ya know, a priority?” Murphy asks.

“Yeah but what if we die before we can get halfway through the list?” Tippy says, as if duh. Murphy shakes his head.

“Right.” He says. “Right.”

Somehow they all make it back to the club where Murphy had spent his time earlier that night. Tippy practically runs into the Bouncer asking a million questions per second. The poor guy looks at the rest of them asking for help. Elliot tugs Tipper away and asks what they need to ask.

“Have you matched today?” The man shakes his head. “Matched 6 years ago. Sorry.”

After showing their IDs, they all head inside and wait for Murphy to guide them to whoever the Bar Guy is, and the server. Luckily, the server is still on the clock, Elliot and Tipper beeline to the guy as soon as Murphy points him out. They stop a couple feet away from him and then head back.

“Unmatched” They say at the same time.

They can’t find Bar Guy anywhere and Murphy is scared that maybe he left and they won’t be able to find out if they matched. They’re about to lose hope when Murphy bumps into someone and it turns out to be Bar Guy. One eye green, one eye light brown. It’s a no then.

“Hey! It’s you!” He exclaims excitedly, clearly drunk. “Oh sorry, I didn’t know you were matched.”

Murphy half laughs. “Yeah”

The club is a dead end and now they’re left with a Wendigo and Yellow Eye Guy. Fuck, what if it’s the Wendigo?

——

There’s a meeting with local werewolves and hunters the next day that Murphy is supposed to go to, being second in command and all. He really doesn’t want to go, but he showers and changes into his Fancy Hoodie and is on his way. They meet up at a veterinary clinic a couple minutes away, because that’s where meetings are held nowadays. They’re greeted by a bald man that Briar calls Deaton who leads them into a back room where three men are standing around an examination table.

The youngest one of the three is standing with his arms crossed, gaze stern. His eyes unmatched, one eye dark brown and the other a grey green. The older man next to him has matched eyes, both green. The other a cold blue pair. He doesn’t realize how much he’s been paying attention to people’s eyes again, it’s been awhile since he last cared.

He stands to Briars left, not saying a word for the rest of the meeting. The werewolves–– that he’s learned are named Derek and Peter–– had been out hunting it down along with the other older man, a hunter named Chris. They haven’t figured out exactly who the wendigo is, so that's their next step. If there’s one, there’s usually a whole group of them, sometimes whole families. Murphy only listens to about half of what they say, but he manages to absorb enough out of the conversation to relay information to the rest of the clan in case they have questions.

When the meeting is over, they all go their separate ways, Briar and Murphy going straight to the clan to catch them up on what they’ve learned. The three members are huddled around the “Soulmate Wall”, Tipper staring intently at the remaining two names. Murphy appreciates the devotion, and he’s glad they’re all putting in effort to help him, but he’s also a bit terrified of finding out who exactly his soulmate is. And he’s also afraid of not finding out. He never thought it would be like this once he matched.

Briar calls for a quick meeting, peeling the three from the wall. She’s about to start speaking when Tipper stands abruptly, sniffing around.

“I smell blood”

And they’re off. Human blood can mean another attack, or death. Briar takes the lead, a look of determination in her eyes. She’s not one to let others die when she’s around and neither are the rest of the members, so they’re moving as fast as they physically can. When they reach the source of the scent, they’re met with a lanky pale boy sitting on the floor tending to his palms as a boy with wavy hair crouches next to him. They both jump up when they realize they’re not alone.

“Oh there's more.” The pale boy says as he hides behind his friend, or soulmate. Murphy can see that they’re both matched from where he’s standing. “We’re gonna die.”

“Who are you?” The other boy asks. Murphy can’t stop staring. He feels warm inside.

“You two shouldn’t be out here.” Briar says instead of answering. If the wendigo were to catch the scent of the boys blood, then he’d be in a lot of trouble.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” The one closest to them answers, he glances over at Murphy and sends a shiver down his spine. What the fuck is up with him today?

“Yeah he’s-“ The pale one starts, then cringes a bit. “He’s capable of taking care of himself”

Briar pauses for a moment then shakes her head. She must recognize who they are.

“You must be Stiles and Scott.” She says.

The two boys exchange a confused glance. “How did you know that?”

“Derek,” She tells them. “He told me we’d be likely to run into you.”

They’re all interrupted by a loud screech coming from further into the woods. The one with an uneven jawline says a name, Murphy thinks it’s Allison, then runs off in the direction of the noise. His soulmate probably. Murphy doesn’t understand why he’s so disappointed, but he has no time to think about it because Briar is running to the commotion too.

“Yeah, you guys just— I'll wait here.” The pale boy says as they begin running off one by one. Tipper salutes the boy and laughs before leaving him there with a bloody hand, which probably isn’t a good idea with a wendigo on the loose. But they’re all gone so Murphy leaves too.

They find a half injured Wendigo trying to fight with the guy from earlier. There are a couple arrows sticking out from its back, all probably from the tall girl in a long black coat holding a very modern bow. She’s still shooting at it, trying to immobilize it enough for them to take it on, but it’s almost like the arrows are doing nothing to it.

“Scott!” She yells out just as the wendigo sends the guy, Scott, flying. He crashes right on top of Murphy who’d been standing a few feet behind him. Groaning, Murphy pushes him off and shakes off the leaves on his clothes.

“That thing just loves throwing people around.” He mumbles, readying for a fight. the clan members are already going up against it and it’s just barely enough. Soon they’re all being thrown around like rag dolls, it’s hard to see who’s being thrown where and who’s who. It’s all a blur really, until a shot is fired and the thing falls to the ground with a thud. Everyone’s eyes go to Chris, who’s still holding the gun up.

“Don’t worry, I used a tranquilizer.” He reassures Scott who looks disheveled and a bit scandalized. He must be anti murder or something. “It won’t keep him down long, let’s get him to Eichen.”

Briar nods, then stretches an arm out to help the arrow girl Murphy assumes is Allison. She helps her up off the ground and then both of them freeze.

“Oh!!!!” Tipper yells out. “Holy shit you’re matching.”

Everyone keeps their distance, letting the two have their moment. The clan is buzzing with excitement, including Murphy who lets himself forget that he has a soulmate out there somewhere that he might not ever meet. At Least Briar found hers. He notices that the pale guy, Stiles, is somehow now next to his friend, he was probably hiding out in the trees.

Murphy watches intently as Stiles approaches the wendigo carefully, peeling its eyes open. He frowns as he shuffles away back to Scott.

“He’s unmatched.” He hears him say. Were they hoping he was matched? Well now Murphy knows the wendigo isn’t his match either. That’s good, then. “We’ll find your Larry Talbot, buddy”

At that, Murphy’s head snaps over to the pair. “He called me Larry Talbot though,” Scott clarifies. And Murphy’s head is spinning. Could Scott be Yellow Eyed Guy? How does he ask? Should he get Tipper to ask? “I don't even know who that is.”

“He’s the, uh, original wolf man.” Murphy says. “From 1941.”

“Huh.” Stiles says, hands on his hips. Scott stares intently at Murphy, it kind of makes him squirm.

“You…” Scott starts to say, taking a small step forward. “I recognize your voice. It was you.”

Murphy absolutely freezes. So it is Scott. That explains the warm feeling inside when he was around him, the same feeling he feels right now. The two stare at each other for a second too long that Stiles starts looking between the two excitedly.

“Oh, my god!” He exclaims in the same tone as Tipper a few minutes earlier. “Dude!”

“Yellow Eyed Guy!!!!!” Tipper yells, grinning.

Everything turns into a blur of hugs and yelling and congratulations that Murphy doesn’t even realize when the wendigo was taken away and when a group of people turned into just Scott and him. It’s calm, finally, and he’s glad that his soulmate didn’t turn out to be a flesh eating supernatural creature. After nearly 100 years, of living a life of not knowing who he could end up with, of worrying that maybe he wouldn’t have one because of what he became, he’s finally found someone that’s brave, with a good moral compass, and cute. Someone he still has to get to know, that makes him excited to want to learn everything about them. The thought makes him happy.

“So, soulmates?” He says nervously. A kind smile spreads across Scott’s face, it makes Murphy swoon.

“Soulmates.”

#murphy #anocchristmas2019 #an oc christmas 19 #drabble #fandom: teen wolf

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steve0discusses · 5 years

Text

Yugioh S3 Ep 36-37: Local Mom-Friend’s Weird Trick, Doctors Hate Him

Hey y’all it’s a surprise midweek post because I’m in Canada this weekend woo. Surprised I even got this post done, TBH, I finally get some time where I’m not commuting around to and from San Francisco or corralling small children and I can just sit at my computer and focus and have some peace and quiet and I got--a mysterious sickness from all those kids! *yay* So, since I can’t really focus on anything, I’ll type in here and see if any of my words make any sense at all and hopefully I won’t go on some weird ass tangent like I tend to do like every other post.

So Yugi is still dueling Kaiba, much like he has for the past like...it feels like 4 years. I know I’ve only seen 3 seasons but this is...this is a really long duel. Maybe because there was a month-long break for me in the middle, (during which I watched the entirety of Evangelion, 2 Seasons of Gotham, Stranger Things S3, and the disappointing season of One Punch Man so like...I’ve had some time away from Yugioh) or maybe...maybe it’s because they’re actually playing card mechanics that go more in depth...

But yeah, despite everything, they’re still dueling.

And honestly, I’m looking at that episode number above me and it’s like...so there’s this Kaiba and Yugi Duel and then...only one more duel, right? Is it going to be a ten episode duel? Like unless Rebecca comes back for a weird cameo like...how...?

Whatever, we’ll get there when we get there.

Anyways, everyone who’s been avoiding this duel like the plague is down with the plague victims in the hospital. That’s where Tristan gets a bright idea and it’s one of his dumber ones, believe it or not.

Man, I forgot that comatose Joey Wheeler is still wearing that duel disk Pharaoh slapped on him during all this too, haha.

Also, why does he have to have all these pectoral suction cups while they just kinda...gave up on Mai? I mean I know they can’t show boobies on a Y7 show but like...it really feels like the doctor just kinda shrugged at Mai and was like “I only have one set of boob suction cups, I really didn’t think I’d need more than that, if at all.”

(read more under the cut)

And so Tristan decides that if Joey is at the window which is like...600 ft below Yugi Muto’s duel, a duel you can’t...really see from the ground...then Joey Wheeler will arise.

I mean, it’s gonna work, it’s just also kind of laughable that Joey wasn’t able to hear any of this nonsense from the bed that is two feet away from the window.

But wtv, it’s very dramatic and Tristan gets to cry some more and feel useful I guess.

The haunted underwear mannequin plot-thread was dumped between that episode and this one, and I’m kinda bummed out that more things haven’t turned into haunted underwear mannequins.

Instead of horrific underwear mannequins, Joey’s dream has gone back to the standard fare of Joey picking on middle schoolers and wearing a much better outfit than he has for most of this show.

I will super miss Joey in a fitted suit. Like, soak it allll in horny preteens, because pretty soon, Joey Wheeler will be back in that scruffy oversized T-shirt just like...well, just like how a teenager would be. I mean there’s some REASONS Mai can’t date Joey, but the fact he has a fitted suit he refuses to ever wear is one of the top reasons right under, youknow, the fact he’d need a fake ID to ever go out with her.

It’s kind of amazing actually, how my whole life I kinda just figured this was a show of insane character designs, only to find out when I actually watch the show that there is like a ... REALLY horny line just going all the way through it.

Honestly, me trying to figure out how and when this kid’s show got so damn horny has been a very big mystery I’ve been trying to solve in the background this entire time. Like, I was told “yeah the Yugioh boys get very attractive.” and I was like “ehhhhhhhh I don’t even know what you’re talking about” but, little by little over the past 3 seasons, these animators are starting to draw these boys just waaaaaaay older than these kids actually are. I’m starting to see what people are saying. It’s still not my thing, personally, but uh yeah I can see how this spawned all that fanart now.

Anyways, speaking of, the other day a friend of mine’s sister was talking about how she, as a millennial, has been wired to love very tall skinny boys in skinny pants and very long coats with popped collars and I immediately was like “Lol are you admitting to Seto Kaiba?”

And she meant Cumberbatch Sherlock, LOLOLOLOL.

And so, back on the duel field we got Seto Kaiba, who’s a lot like Sherlock except a Sherlock who is suffering from both short term and long term memory loss. And, who does cards instead of heroin.

They probably both play violin.

Kaiba, despite having arc after arc where his little brother is his main motivation, has decided to just ditch Mokuba and it’s like...either he’s psyching Yugi out or Seto Kaiba forgot he had a brother for a little bit. He might...he might have forgotten. Mokuba is standing behind him, after all.

And so, because Joey is facing Yugi at just the right moment and at just the right time, somehow he can do his little force ability again and just do this:

Thanks, hallucination!Joey.

And out he goes, drawn like a romance anime character lol.

Anyways, he’s back to being a slob so...welcome back, wrinkle shirt, it’s been a while.

And then Joey looks around and actually said this:

“Did someone get hurt?” He asks, after being burned, electrocuted AND drowned just yesterday.

I was kinda very much hoping Tristan would deck him out.

Glad that, as predicted, the moment Mai doesn’t need to be Joey’s main motivation anymore, the moment he puts the cards away, she may as well not even exist. This show and the way they write straight romances.

Please admire the matching lace up boots on the Kaiba Corp’s Emergency Squad. This would be the most obscure Cosplay on earth but maybe the most wearable Yugioh cosplay outside of Bandit Keith because you wouldn’t need a 400 dollar wig.

And then for some reason Tea just loses her mind and has a complete breakdown. She’s been kind of a mess since Yugi walked out like 2 episodes ago, which seems kind of...I dunno, both out of character but very much in character at the same time. I mean we’re assuming they “have” a relationship it’s just never actually say that they do, so her acting like her man is dead is kinda like...it still feels like it comes out of freakin nowhere.

Anyways, Tea who is strong enough to lift this entire plane and who is, in fact, possessed by at least 2 powerful ghosts (remember Shadi did spends some time there and he did NOT like it), is now a seeping crying mess that refuses to lose any more of her hospital-prone boys.

I mean they were going to go anyway, but they let Tea pretend she had any control over that and kind of glazed over this.

Back in this game that no one else is really watching anymore, Seto Kaiba is still monologuing about his entire life story that he’s never gotten any therapy for, except for that time his evil step brother accidentally gave him therapy.

Quite upset we never see the color of Mokuba’s little tuxedo.

Course...didn’t...Noah wear a little tuxedo in that same exact shape? I mean it’s a silly headcanon but youknow...it could be a yellow tuxedo they just happened to find in the back of the closet.

And it’s at this point that Mokuba just lost his lid. I’m so used to Mokuba unconditionally supporting his crazy brother that this would have been the biggest anime betrayal of the whole series, if Mokuba had said any of this outloud (which he wisely did not).

It was like...damn Mokuba. He actually said something along the lines of “I liked you better when you were poor” and it was like. Holy cow, Mokuba. Damn.

Anyway, a bunch of card stuff happens, and Pharaoh has decided that Seto has too much anger in his heart, and that’s why he will lose. Then, Pharaoh played the card proof for how angry Seto is, and if I actually payed any attention to cards, it would have been very meaningful.

But anyways, kudos to Pharaoh on not mind-wiping Seto Kaiba this time or launching him directly off this very tall tower like he attempted to do last time. They actually played a game start to finish with eachother and nothing exploded except for every television in Domino. Progress.

and then Mokuba started crying and initially I thought...wouldn’t he have WANTED his brother to lose but then I kind of remembered oh yeah now Mokuba has to deal with this oncoming aftermath.

RIP Mokuba, I guess.

Anyway, I’m out of town for the rest of the weekend, escaping to the far North to get away from the weather. I should be back next weekend, but if I’m not, I was probably eaten by a bear. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to my Yugioh recaps in Chrono order from the beginning.

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inyournightmares97 · 5 years

Text

My Youth (Chapter 1)

Broken and miserable, Park Jinyoung returns to his hometown to learn that no matter how hard he falls, there are still people who think he’s a hero.

Warnings: Angst, slow build, maybe some language. (Please don’t ask when I’ll update. Wait until the series is finished to read if you’re impatient.)

Word Count: 3k+

(Please check my Masterlist for the Prologue and read that first! (I can’t put in links because tumblr)

You sat at your desk and slowly flipped open the newspaper. GOT Tech set to acquire its major competitors, the paper read. High growth rates predicted for the rising tech giant! The lady at the newspaper stall had handed it to you earlier that morning with a big smile. Part of you wanted to tell her to stop caring so much about Jinyoung’s successes and that he probably didn’t even remember the ahjumma he used to buy comics from. But you’d never been very good at saying what you felt. You had simply smiled and taken the newspaper from her.

She would learn her lesson eventually.

“Miss? Miss, I’ve finished these sums,” a soft voice informed you from behind your newspaper.

You lowered the newspaper and smiled at the young boy who stood in front of your desk, holding out his notebook to you. Kim Ki-woo was six years old and the smartest boy in your first grade class. It had barely been ten minutes since you’d sent the kids off to their desks to complete the sums, but he had finished them already. You smiled at him.

“Are you sure you’ve done all of them, Ki-woo?”

The boy nodded eagerly, his dark hair bouncing up and down in the mushroom cut that his mother insisted on making him wear. You folded up the newspaper and then gestured for Ki-woo to sit on the small chair next to your desk. “All right, let’s see how you’ve done then. What color pen shall I correct Ki-woo’s work with today? Blue? Purple?”

Ki-woo pointed shyly at the colored pens on your desk. “Green, Miss.”

“Green it is,” you agreed with a smile, before you began to look at the little addition sums that he’d done neatly in his book. Only one sum was wrong, simply because he’d forgotten to carry over a number. You pointed it out to him and his face fell. “You forgot to carry over the one here, Ki-woo.”

“Oh,” he mumbled. “So I don’t get a star?”

“How about I give you a small star?” you offered, reaching for the box on your desk where you kept your sticker packets. You pulled out a little packet of small silver stars while another girl came bounding over to your desk. She watched you put the little star in Ki-woo’s notebook and beamed.

“I bet I can get a big star, Ki-woo!” she teased.

You frowned at her as you handed Ki-woo his notebook back. “Let’s be nice, Jangmi. Ki-woo worked hard and did well.”

“Sorry, Miss.”

The bell rang loudly before you could say anything else and the students all rushed to their feet happily. You grinned as you watched them hurry to pack their bags and run out of the classroom. “All right, everyone! Those of you who couldn’t finish the sums today can work on them tomorrow! Everyone go home safely, now! Look both ways when you cross the street! Bye-bye!”

The children ignored you completely and ran out of the classroom in a rush. You sighed and waited for them all to leave before you began to pack up your own belongings. Sometimes you stayed late at school to plan your lessons and correct homework but today you were exhausted. There was a huge PTA fundraiser coming up next week and you were expected to help plan the event in addition to making posters for the whole thing. You had just tucked the newspaper into your bag when your phone rang.

Mrs. Park, the caller ID read. You smiled and answered the phone.

“Mrs. Park! I was just about to call you. How did you read my mind?” you asked the older woman pleasantly. Mrs. Park called you often these days, and you’d been planning to ask for her help with the fundraiser. Her delicious cookies always sold out in seconds and made the most money. You heard her laugh; a sudden, delighted little laugh that the woman rarely ever shared.

“Is that so, dear? Oh, I have something wonderful to tell you!” she chirped.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Did you finally find that lemon pie recipe you were looking for? Because I have an excellent use for it-”

“No, no, no, it’s much better than that! Isn’t school over for the day? Can you come by my house right now?” Mrs. Park asked you eagerly. You blinked in surprise and then glanced at the clock. She wanted you to come over? It was just a little past three. You had to make some calls and posters for the fundraiser but you supposed a brief chat with the older woman couldn’t hurt.

“All right, Mrs. Park. I’ll be over in ten minutes.”

“Lovely, dear. Do hurry!”

You smiled and hung up, wondering what had made the woman so excited. Perhaps Mr. Park had gotten his test results back from the hospital. The older man’s health hadn’t been doing too well lately, and the doctors were concerned that he might have developed some heart problems. You had gone with him to the hospital last week. Mrs. Park had been extremely worried. You smiled as you quickly exited the school building and hurried towards the Parks’ home. They were the closest thing you had to parents, you supposed. It was natural that they relied on you sometimes.

The light at the crossing was red so you waited for it patiently. You had crossed this road every day during your childhood. After your Father died in a car accident you had been terrified of traffic and crossing roads.

“Who even holds hands while they cross the road?” Jinyoung teased as he reached for your hand and grasped it tightly. Some of the other kids made fun of you both for holding hands. Jinyoung turned pink whenever someone commented on it, but still kept a firm grip on your hand. “We’re too old for things like that. I won’t do this forever. Come on, the light turned green. Let’s go.”

You blushed and followed him, grateful that no matter what anyone else said or even what he himself said, Jinyoung never let go of your hand.

Seven-year old Jinyoung had been much more mature than you’d given him credit for. He would often say one thing and do another, but he always knew where to draw the line with his teasing. You smiled to yourself as you watched the light turn green.

It was absurd how something as foolish as a pedestrian light still carried memories of Jinyoung in this town.

You crossed the road quickly and found yourself in the Parks’ driveway. The wonderful smell of freshly baked cookies wafted out from the kitchen window and you smiled. It must be a special occasion if Mrs. Park was baking cookies. You rang the doorbell briefly and waited.

“That was quick!” Mrs. Park beamed at you as she opened the door. Her face was flushed pink and she was glowing, almost like a bride on her wedding day. You wondered what could have made the older, wrinkled woman suddenly look ten years younger. “Come in dear, come in! I have the most wonderful surprise for you! You’ll never believe who just dropped in!”

You smiled and stepped inside, pausing to take off your shoes in the doorway. There was another pair of shoes there and you paused. Expensive and leather, most probably male. Old Mr. Park rarely used any footwear other than his worn-out sandals since his retirement. But these shoes looked like they belonged to a young man. A stylish, rich young man. Who could Mrs. Park have possibly-

No. It can’t be.

Your stomach turned over as the realization hit you like a truck. The delighted glow on Mrs. Park’s face. The shoes. The expensive leather bag that was lying in the entrance to the living room as though thrown there haphazardly.

Park Jinyoung had finally come home.

You had thought that you would have more time.

Perhaps if you’d received some warning that you were about to come face-to-face with your long-lost childhood best friend then you would have prepared yourself. You would have thought of a few things to say, maybe a few questions to ask him. At the very least, you would have gathered your thoughts and reminded yourself to be on your best behaviour for old Mrs. Park’s sake. Your tendency to replay different possible scenarios over and over in your head had always served you well, since it meant that you were rarely caught off-guard.

Except for now. Now, when you were met with the sight of Park Jinyoung sitting on the couch.

You hadn’t played this scenario out yet. You were completely unprepared.

“Jinyoung-ie! Look who I invited over! Do you remember how much you both cried when Jinyoung left for Seoul?” Mrs. Park cooed fondly. “Oh it was such a beautiful friendship! I’m sure you both must have missed each other so much!”

Her words sounded distant. You couldn’t think of anything, you simply froze in the doorway. The sight of Jinyoung was too much to drink in. He was wearing a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and revealing his toned forearms. Jinyoung’s dark hair brushed his forehead softly and his back was straight in a perfect posture; one that conveyed confidence and pride. His dark, familiar eyes met yours and you froze.

What should you say? Should you simply say hi? Should you reach out and hug the friend you hadn’t seen in years? Should you smile at him? Should you ask him where he had been all this time and clap him on the back, or should you simply shake his hand and let the awkwardness continue?

A million possibilities flickered through your mind. A million different ways that the impending encounter before you could go.

But in the end, Jinyoung made the decision for you.

“Mom,” Jinyoung said, his voice deeper than you remembered but still somehow soft. There was a sharp tone to it. The hint of acidity told you even before he spoke that he was about to break your heart. “Mom, I told you not to tell anyone that I was here. How could you go announcing it to the townspeople within seconds?” Jinyoung demanded.

Mrs. Park looked shocked. “Well… yes dear, I know you said that. But I thought… I mean, she’s your friend so I thought you would want me to tell her, at least! She’s been comforting me while you were gone for so long, Jinyoung-ie, we’ve both been worried about you…”

You swallowed hard.

Was that how it was? You were just one of the townspeople now? Whatever small hope you had clung onto that Park Jinyoung was still your friend had vanished. What had you been thinking? If he had cared even the slightest bit for you then he would have called, or sent at least an email or a text. But Park Jinyoung had done none of those things.

To Jinyoung, you were just a vague memory from his past.

One that he evidently didn’t care much for.

“I can leave if you’d like,” you managed to say calmly. If there was one thing you’d learnt in the decade that Jinyoung had been gone, it was to maintain your dignity. You never overstayed your welcome. You had spent enough of your life feeling unwanted.

Mrs. Park gasped at your suggestion. “Of course not! Jinyoung’s only tired from the long journey! He had to take a train all the way here and you know how exhausting those things are. I’ll just bring out some tea and you’ll feel much more relaxed, Jinyoung. Why don’t you both sit down and catch up?”

Mrs. Park gently pushed you towards the couch and gave you an encouraging smile before disappearing into the kitchen. Your legs felt like jelly but you slowly walked over to sit down across from Jinyoung. His eyebrows were furrowed and he blinked in mild irritation. The expression made his handsome face detestable.

“I don’t want rumors spreading about me being here,” he told you bluntly. “So kindly keep it quiet. I only came home to see my mother.”

You felt dizzy. Even if you had had the chance to go over this scenario in your mind, you doubted that you could have predicted these words to be the first words Jinyoung said to you. You narrowed your eyes at him. The man who sat in front of you was not your childhood friend Jinyoung-ie. He was Park Jinyoung, a perfect stranger.

You intended to treat him as one.

“Rumours spreading about you making a visit to your hometown?” you asked coolly. You sat back against the couch while trying to hide your trembling hands. “Hardly sounds like the scandal of the year. What sort of paper would want to print that?”

Jinyoung raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Because I’m not a celebrity?” you wondered.

Jinyoung didn’t respond. He simply turned his face away from you and looked towards the window as though he was bored. The silence was rude and uncomfortable. You couldn’t help but take the opportunity to let your eyes feast on the man before you. Jinyoung had only become more handsome in the last decade. His sharp jawline was covered in a light stubble and his plump lips were pressed together tightly. The magazines had done nothing for him; he looked like a model in real life as well.

But his hands were trembling.

You had to do a double take to make sure that you’d seen correctly. Jinyoung’s eyes were casually staring out of the window and his shoulders were relaxed. His entire posture screamed arrogance and distinterest. But his hands, placed casually in his lap, were trembling.

Trembling hands. Weakness. Fear.

But… but Park Jinyoung feared nothing.

Except failure, you reminded yourself. For as long as you’d known him, Jinyoung’s biggest fear had always been failure. His thirst for success and victory had always been accompanied by a crippling terror of being anything less than the best. Park Jinyoung had to come out on top. He avoided failure like a wild deer sprinting from a lion. Gracefully, yes. Successfully, almost always.

Yet it was a sprint that was unmistakably motivated by fear.

“I hope you like the lemon tea!” Mrs. Park gushed as she entered the living room with a tray and three steaming cups of her delicious lemon tea. The rich, tangy fragrance filled the room instantly. She set the tray on the table and you spotted a plate of freshly baked cookies on them as well. “Go on; help yourselves! I remember you both used to come here and beg me to make this lemon tea while you were studying in high school!”

You reached for a cup gratefully, but Jinyoung had frozen. His hands were still trembling but now he was staring at the tea and the cookies in silence. Mrs. Park placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

“Jinyoung, dear, are you okay?” she asked softly.

Jinyoung looked up and his dark eyes were suddenly misty. You stared at him in shock. Were those… tears? What was it? Was it the smell of his mother’s tea and cookies? Had they perhaps evoked some memories in him? Perhaps Jinyoung wasn’t as cold and uncaring as you first imagined.

“I, uh… I think I’ll take this tea to my room. I’d like to get some sleep,” he said hoarsely. You watched him closely as he grabbed one of the mugs of tea and took the entire tray of cookies. “Please don’t disturb me for a while.”

Mrs. Park blinked. “All… all right, Jinyoung, dear. You do that.”

He disappeared up the stairs and you were left alone with Mrs. Park, who looked at you apologetically. “I’m so sorry. He must be more tired than I thought. Why don’t you stay and have the tea-”

“That’s all right. Mrs. Park,” you reassured her kindly. You felt a sudden urge to run from this place, to get out of this house. It had felt like home to you all these years but it wasn’t. It wasn’t really your home. This was Jinyoung’s home. Whether he wanted it or not, it would always be his home and not yours. You placed a comforting hand on the older woman’s. “I’ll be back soon, Mrs. Park. I have some work to do for the PTA meeting coming up this weekend.”

She smiled at you. “Thank you-”

“Not at all. I’m sure you want to take care of Jinyoung now that he’s finally home. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.” She gave you a wide smile and you could see the happiness and relief in her eyes. “Oh, I’m so glad that he’s finally home.”

You smiled at her and nodded. Of course she would be. A mother could wait decades for her son and still love him no matter what. But you had never been as kind-hearted as Mrs. Park. You couldn’t wait here forever and welcome Jinyoung back with open arms no matter how much he hurt you. You wouldn’t.

As you left the Parks’ house and walked towards your apartment, hot tears welled in your eyes. The pavement under your feet was blurry. Why were your hands trembling, why did you want to sit down and cry? Why was the brief appearance of a man from your childhood enough to make your entire body tremble?

Perhaps, deep down, just like Mrs. Park and old Mr. Kang and the lady from the newspaper stall, even you had carried a small hope that someday Jinyoung would come back.

You paused in the middle of the sidewalk, took a deep breath and then reached inside of you to find where that tiny little hope had been resting in your heart. That tiny little hope that your best friend still cared about you. That tiny little hope that Jinyoung would embrace you with open arms. That tiny little hope that there was a good, justified reason why Park Jinyoung had cut you off all these years. That tiny little hope that had made today’s encounter so painful.

You carefully drew that tiny little hope out and then you killed it.

And as you continued your walk, you felt that much lighter.

---

#got7 #got7 scenarios #got7 scenario #got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 jinyoung #park jinyoung #jinyoung scenario #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung angst #got7 fanfiction #got7 drabbles #got7 imagines #got7 series #jinyoung my youth

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zaney-hacknslash · 5 years

Text

FallOut Ch. 2

Aizawa

In the station lobby, lights flickered, and the normally polished floors looked dull and scored; fingerprints marred the windows from when some kids had passed, and no one manned the reception desk. All of it made me feel foolish for thinking that, once Kira had been captured, I’d be able to return to this place, which had always been full of camaraderie, a second home to me, and go back to my old life as a detective.

Kira had been dead for thirty-three days, and people expected him to come back at any moment. The world resented us for announcing his death, and on January twenty-eighth, a new world had been born. Fresh and blinking, lost and confused, not sure who to follow or who to trust. Crime rates stayed low, leaving us with nothing to do, and wearing my badge earned me nasty looks in public.

Ide insisted it would all blow over; I knew, when it did, this new world would become just like the old one—violent, hateful, and full of fear.

Sulky Matsuda didn’t help. I’d gotten used to him being the voice of optimism, shamelessly expressing his naïve and upbeat views, but I hadn’t realized how much more bleak life would seem without any of that. I had no idea how to compensate, no idea how to draw him from the haze he’d wandered into.

For the first few days after Light’s death, he’d completely disappeared, not answering his phone or his door. I’d been wrapped up in an exhausting debriefing session, so there hadn’t been much I could do, but by the time I saw him at the funeral, he was already too messed up to intervene.

If it was just the sloppy state of his apartment or the lack of food, I’d look the other way. The change in his attitude was what worried me.

Most of the time, he seemed tremendously far away, disinterested, and straight up spacey. He wouldn’t talk to me the way he used to, spouting off everything that happened to enter his head, whether I wanted to hear it or not, and I rarely got face time with him at the precinct. I had a captain’s duties, no time to discuss feelings over a cup of hot chocolate. All I could do was watch him from across the squad room, worrying over what I saw, standing behind delicate, red tape as he drowned.

Since Light’s funeral, normally punctual Matsuda had gotten into the habit of being fifteen or twenty minutes late everywhere he went, but, this morning, when nearly an hour had gone by without any sign of him, Ide and I had started to grumble to each other, in passing, about his carelessness. When more than an hour had passed, Mogi suggested we call him. No one else had seemed to notice he wasn’t around—in addition to getting lazy in my absence, the squad had lost the sense of community which held it together back in the days of Chief Yagami—so I’d taken it upon myself.

He hadn’t answered. I’d thrown my hands up, said it wasn’t my problem, and tried to focus, but I couldn’t stop watching his desk, more and more anxious with every second he wasn’t sitting at it.

Three hours turned out to be more than enough for me. New, moody Matsuda freaked me out too much, and if angry Matsuda would go to the extreme of shooting Light Yagami, I didn’t dare put anything past depressed Matsuda; I’d even worried about what I would find if I busted down the door to his apartment.

Then the dope had just looked at me like he didn’t understand why I was there.

Worrying seemed silly now, walking next to him. Yeah, his hair was ragged, and his suit wasn’t pressed, and he looked distant, eyes a little red. At his apartment, he’d snapped at me for the first time ever, and I hadn’t known if I should slap him with a write-up or make him some tea. But none of it was really that alarming. Most importantly, I had to keep in mind that he was a coworker—a subordinate—the task force had been unceremoniously dissolved, and if he didn’t want to confide in me, I had no right to push.

When we stepped off the elevator, I saw Ide and Mogi standing down the hall, waiting. Ide swiped some black hair back from his forehead and fumbled through his suit for cigarettes, apparently trying to look unconcerned, but Mogi stared hard at us.

Matsuda greeted them listlessly. “Good morning, Lieutenant. Good morning, Sergeant.”

Ide stopped in front of him, folding his arms. We’d known each other a long time, and I recognized true concern in his narrow eyes as he admonished, “It’s practically afternoon now, Sparky.”

“Yeah.” Matsuda heaved a light sigh.

“The captain was starting to panic.” Ide grinned at me.

“So was the lieutenant,” I grumbled. He’d only hissed at me, half a dozen times in the last two hours, do you think Matsuda’s okay?

But those were fears he wouldn’t confess to anyone other than me, and Ide simply laughed like it was all a joke.

Matsuda choked out a strained chuckle of his own. “No reason to worry.”

Twice as earnest as Ide, Mogi towered over Matsuda, thick build making the kid look smaller and more delicate than ever. “So, then, you’re okay?”

Rubbing his face, tiredly, Matsuda nodded. “I better let the commish know I’m here.” He stepped past them and continued on his way.

Lately, higher-ups had been hard to come by; a lot of them had quit out of fear, including our chief, and, for the commissioner had stepped in to handle daily supervisions.

He was a new hire, brought on by Deputy Director Yagami not long ago, and I suspected he’d made our precinct his temporary office simply because it was home base to the former task force. I’d rather not believe that—God knows, there was more than enough to be concerned over without suspecting my own superiors—but, I couldn’t fully trust him. Not after my debriefing.

There had been a hell I didn’t need. Not twenty-four hours after Light had died, they’d dragged me in here, trying to get all the facts, they’d said. But the debriefing had been anything but protocol. Day after day of relentless questioning had passed, until I’d thought I might break, and, in the end, I’d only gotten out of it because Ide managed to get a hold of Near.

He’d set them straight on what they did and didn’t need to know about Kira

, I’d written up a bullshit report, and they’d finally left me alone, but Commissioner Oshima had been watching me ever since.

The last thing we needed was for him to set his sights on Matsuda next.

“I better go check back in myself,” I announced, following him.

Ide came right behind me, muttering, “At least if that snake tries to rip him a new one that’ll give me an excuse to tell him what I really think of him.”

“We can’t afford to draw attention to ourselves,” I reminded him.

“Sure.” He gestured to Matsuda, who wandered ahead of us, seemingly in his own, little world. “We’re off to a great start.”

Lucky for all three of us, Oshima didn’t have much to say. He was an older guy with graying hair and hard eyes, and I could tell Matsuda’s idiotic story about letting his phone die and oversleeping did irritate him, but he brusquely told him not to let it happen again, and then called me forward to explain where I’d been for an hour and a half. In fact, he seemed more annoyed with my absence than he did with Matsuda’s, and I got the feeling he viewed me as a more valuable officer.

Compared to most of the squad, Matsuda did have a soft demeanor, a glow of endless youth to him, and the naivete of a starry-eyed rookie, even now. Four or five years ago, we’d started referring to him as the kid behind his back, maybe sneeringly, at first, but, anymore, it looked lik that cheerfulness and blithe might be damaged forever. And, after watching him shoot a pen out of Light’s hand, I had no doubt that Matsuda was much more useful to the NPA than he looked.

“I went to pick up Corporal Matsuda,” I said, daring the commissioner to say anything about it.

Oshima’s jowls quivered. “I have a hard time believing that was necessary, Captain.”

Maybe it really hadn’t been. I hadn’t known what else to do when his phone went directly to voicemail.

Ideally, I could express my concerns to the commissioner behind closed doors, maybe find a way to help Matsuda without interfering too directly, recommend that he be given more leave.

I didn’t trust Oshima, though, and I’d be loath to let on to any weak link in our chain.

Instead, I promised it wouldn’t happen again.

“And you, Lieutenant?” Oshima wondered, next, turning on Ide, who lounged against the doorway with a cigarette in his mouth. “How can I be of service?”

“You can’t.” Ide smiled. “Sorry, sir, I doubt you ever will be.”

“Please excuse us, Sir,” I jostled against my partner, shoving him into the hallway before Oshima could decipher his disarming tone and detect the contempt in it. “I said keep your heads down.” I frowned at him and then at Matsuda. “Remember?”

“I was just late,” Matsuda muttered, with a shrug. “I don’t see the big deal.”

Ide snorted. “That prick threatened you with sodium penthathol. Sorry if I’m not inclined to play nice.”

“He’s still the commissioner, Ide.”

“For now.”

Sighing, I turned to Matsu again, saying, sharper than I meant to, “Did you finish that assignment?”

From the way he gawked at me, it seemed like he barely remembered I’d assigned him anything, and a sheepish, “Not yet, Captain,” was all he had to say as we stepped out of Oshima’s office.

“I want it by tomorrow,” I reminded him, he nodded, and we all went back to work.

Ever since the Kira case ended, every day felt just a little slower than the one that came before it, leading toward the most mind-numbingly boring day ever lived. The community safety and traffic bureaus still had things to do—domestic violence and traffic accidents—but our branch of the department no longer seemed necessary.

To make matters worse, Oshima hadn’t been doing much delegating; supposedly, he was stretched too thin, just like everyone else, and so far I’d had to be pretty proactive just to find a job to do. It gave me an opportunity to finalize and edit the official report on the Kira investigation, as well as to keep working with Ide, Mogi, and Matsuda. All three of them seemed content to help me out, but once we had that filed, I might have to get a little more creative to keep from getting stagnant.

“I might have to transfer just to get back on the street,” I muttered to Ide, as we made our way across the squad room.

“Well, I like it this way. Lazy detectives thrive in times of peace.”

“Just remember your metabolism’s not what it used to be, Hideki.”

Things would straighten themselves out, I supposed, in time, but, once we had a new chief who was willing to delegate, I doubted I’d ever have a chance to work with Ide, Mogi, and Matuda ever again.

It shouldn’t matter, I kept telling myself. They were just coworkers. Ide would always be my partner, at least, and I wouldn’t let him get fat.

Still, undeniably, after all that time of being able to count on them, of knowing that even if it turned out we couldn’t trust L I could trust them, being around them felt natural and safe. I couldn’t imagine not working with them, filing paper work and taking coffee breaks, chatting at the water cooler like everything was normal when it seemed like they were the only people in the world I still had anything in common with.

Becoming chief, of course, would mean more sitting at a desk than ever before, working alone on everything that came my way.

Determined to savor the peace while I had it, I went back to work, throwing myself in headfirst so that I barely noticed the passing of time. When it was nearly time to clock out, Mogi appeared to place a large stack of papers on my desk. “I finished my compilation for the Kira investigation.”

“Thanks.” I studied the form I was supposed to be filling out and tapped my pencil. For years, the NPA hadn’t wanted to help with the Kira investigation, but of course they’d better make sure they had a record of it. Like they’d helped all along.

Being chief wouldn’t keep things like that from happening either.

“See you later, Aizawa,” Mogi said abruptly, and turned to walk away, never one to waste words on pleasantries.

With a sigh, I set my forms aside and grabbed my jacket. “I might as well head out too. Gotta give Matsuda a ride home.” Throughout the day, I’d watched Matsuda wander around the station looking lost or spending a lot of time staring off into space. As his supervisor, I could have snapped at him to pay attention, but I’d decided against it. More and more, it looked like he just hadn’t been given enough leave.

Playing favorites won’t fly if I become chief.

Mogi and I walked in silence for a moment before he asked, “Did you find out what’s going on with him?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to,” I answered, dryly.

“Not even in passing?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed, reluctant to express the concerns I’d been feeling for the last few weeks. “Obviously this whole thing with Light was harder for him than it was for us.”

“He was close with Deputy Direcor Yagami,” Mogi mused.

There had been times I’d thought it was borderline inappropriate how close he was to Chief Yagami, but knowing Matsuda the way I did, I’d come to realize he needed that firm guidance, and the former chief had inspired affection in all of us.

“Matsuda’s a grown man,” I decided. “None of us should waste time worrying about him.”

Mogi only grunted.

I said it, but then I wondered, if I didn’t watch his back, who would.

“He should see someone,” Mogi decided.

Startled, I looked up at him, but as usual, his plain-featured face revealed very little. “What, like a therapist?”

He nodded sagely.

Seeking help from a stranger for your personal problems… What a foreign concept in my mind. I could hardly believe people did it.

“After shooting Light like that,” he went on, “who wouldn’t be depressed?” He loosened his tie and cleared his throat, and then he hesitated, giving me the impression he wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Ide and I…think you should talk to him about it.”

“Why me?”

“He looks up to you.”

“But not either of you?” They knew better—Matsuda looked up to all of us—and talking to him about something that delicate would require a lot more tact than I possessed.

“I just thought you could try it,” he added after a moment of silence.

We had reached the main lobby of the building, where Ide and Matsuda stood at reception. They’d always been the chatty ones, even though Ide’s dry remarks were an odd contrast to Matsuda’s unstructured babble, and it was strange to see my old friend muttering, practically to himself, about what he’d had going on lately, drawing on his cigarette, filling in Matsuda’s side of the conversation while casting him occasional sidelong glances like the silence bothered him.

Even at a distance, I could see the disturbed look on the kid’s face, characterized by a vacant stare and a deep frown like a gash across his chin.

“Ide should do it,” I countered. “He’s better at delivering bad news.”

Mogi paused, and I stopped with him. Carefully, he pointed out, “Ide doesn’t exactly inspire the same…respect that you do.”

I couldn’t deny that. Ide’s better polished social skills and natural charm made him friendly, and I’d seen how Matsuda latched on to him as a sort of friend or older brother, but even if Ide could bring himself to get involved on such a personal level, Matsuda might just laugh off whatever he had to say.

“In any case,” Mogi ventured, “being told he might need professional help isn’t exactly bad news. I think he’d take it better from you.”

I grumbled, “As far as I’m concerned, he just needs to deal with it.”

Mogi’s expression and voice didn’t change, but he said, “Isn’t that a little cold, Aizawa?”

Even though the words did evoke some guilt, I muttered, “It isn’t my business.”

“They’re talking about promoting you to chief,” he said suddenly.

“So I heard.”

“If that happens, you will be responsible for Matsu.”

“There must be other candidates.”

He shrugged. “I would assume so.”

Ide had noticed us and stared right at me, obviously expecting me to come and bail him out of an awkward situation. He even called, “You guys going home, or what?”

“What about you, Mogi?” I asked, moving forward again. “You’d make a good chief.”

One raised eyebrow barely wrinkled his stoic look. “No. I’m thinking about leaving the NPA altogether.”

Startled, I paused. “Where would you go?”

He shrugged. “I’ve got a couple ideas.”

That was all he had to say, and then we reached Ide and Matsuda. The four of us spent a few moments discussing our version of the boring day we’d just put in, and then made our way to the exit. Ide and Mogi strode to their own vehicles, and Matsuda followed me to mine, maintaining his unnatural silence.

Of course, I wanted to help him, but I had no control over his decisions; I had my own career to think of.

I found myself dwelling on what Mogi had suggested as I drove, nonetheless. It was common enough, I supposed, for people experiencing depression to seek professional help, and since Matsuda had outright denied being depressed earlier, it clearly hadn’t crossed his mind to involve anyone, professional or otherwise. Even the blank way he’d stared at me when I showed up at his apartment seemed to indicate that he just wasn’t thinking about the way he looked from the outside, or the solutions available to him.

There must be other options, though, ways to snap out of it if he tried. Depending on how deep the depression really ran.

“Hey,” I said suddenly, voice unnaturally loud in the awkward silence. “How would you like to come over for dinner some time this week? We’d love to have you.”

I’d never invited him anywhere before, and from the way he paused, I knew he was surprised. In a moment, he tried to smile. “Oh… No, thanks. I’m fine.”

Stopping at a traffic light, I couldn’t help frowning at him. “You know, you’re not supposed to refuse a dinner invitation that casually. You could at least make up some excuse.”

“An excuse? What kind of excuse do you want me to make up?”

“Hell, I don’t know.” The light changed, and I floored it. “Anything’s better than thanks I’m fine.”

In lieu of sheepish excuses, the quiet resumed, and I felt foolish. At his level of disinterest, I should have known he’d decline the invitation, and, actually, I didn’t know what difference it would make even if he’d accepted. Matsuda wasn’t going to snap out of his funk simply because he came over to my place for dinner one night.

It did give me a better idea of just how bad he was doing, though. Matsuda loved social events, from the smallest gathering to the biggest galas, even to the point that he’d made the Kira investigation feel like a hangout.

Strange, though. For being that way, he’d never talked much about his personal life, and over the six years of getting to know him, I’d gradually come to realize that he didn’t have many friends or even much connection to family.

Having no support system during an emotional crisis didn’t help, but I couldn’t fix that for him.

Outside, a light drizzle of rain began, and I focused ferociously on the unnerving quiet between us. In the past, he’d always filled any pauses with meaningless conversation—opinions on pop culture and celebrity gossip, or bragging about personal conquests, mostly—and I’d snort vague responses or mutter at him about anything I thought actually warranted a reply. Raving about actors and gloating over buying a new TV hadn’t often been appropriate, considering the circumstances, but I missed it, I admitted to myself. In a strange way, I missed him.

“How’s the bachelor life going?” I wondered.

Bewildered, this time he stared at me. “Fine. Why?”

“Just wondering if maybe you met somebody.” I knew better. His dating game had never been impressive either, and the one or two times he’d actually picked somebody up, it had been all he could talk about for days, his excitement sweeping him along like a river, until he got dumped and was tossed over the edge into a somewhat sulky mood not so different from this one. The difference, though, was that this time it lingered, affecting every aspect of his life.

I added, “You’ve been distant lately,” hoping he’d recognize it as an opportunity to be real with me.

Matsuda just said, “Oh,” and then muttered, “Still single.”

“Well, maybe you’ll have better luck now that the case is over. You’re not getting any younger—time to settle down.” I flashed him a grin I hoped seemed friendly, if not supportive.

Matsuda’s eyebrows etched together like the smile just confused him.

“When’s the last time you even went on a date?” I asked, teasingly.

Gradually, he turned to the window again. “It’s been a while, I guess.”

Throwing discretion to the wind, I told him, “You’ll have to try and move on at some point.”

I’d thought I said it carefully—gently even—but Matsuda glared at me, and I knew I’d missed the mark. “You think I’m doing this on purpose?” he demanded, outraged.

“Of course not. I’m just saying… Light wasn’t even related to you.”

Way to stay in character. I kicked myself. Way to be completely blunt and insensitive.

He had nothing to say, and I knew I’d only added to his turmoil.

This was exactly why shouldn’t be the one to talk to him about anything delicate.

Trying to tone it down, I amended, “Touta, if you’re so upset it’s going to affect your work, you’ll have to do something about that.”

As much as it had alarmed me on a personal level, I knew his coming in late and disheveled could turn into a real problem if he made a habit of it. No chief worth his salt would overlook this level of sloppiness, no matter the reason, and I thought, suddenly, that more important than convincing him to do something was to try and find a way to stress the gravity of the situation to him.

After all, just now, this job seemed to be all he had, and if Matsuda got fired, he’d utterly collapse into his depression.

“What do you think I should do?” he murmured.

That was what I wanted to hear, in a way, and at the same time, I had no idea what to tell him. Coming right out to say, go see a doctor felt like overstepping a serious boundary.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, finally. “Get yourself together, that’s all I’m saying; find a girl. Get involved with something outside work. Whatever helps.”

Giving a brief sigh, he suddenly brightened his tone. “Heard anything about the promotion?”

Nothing annoyed me more than to have someone ask my opinion and then refuse to acknowledge it. If he didn’t care what I thought, why ask in the first place? “No,” I grumbled. “Nothing.”

“Don’t you wanna be the chief?”

“Sure.” I’d never thought very hard about it, and I’d certainly never expected it would one day be staring me in the face without warning. I didn’t know if I wanted it. “More work, though. More responsibility.”

“The pay’s better,” he reminded me with a ghost of his old sanguinity. “That’ll make up for it.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, not sure how to explain the way the possibility of promotion made me feel. More money sounded great, and so did calling more of the shots for a change. It would likely be less dangerous. By all accounts, it was a step in the right direction. Ten years ago, I might have jumped at it.

My guts twisted as I thought back on my interrogation. After that, I’d assumed it would be years before I got any kind of promotion at all—it was lucky I hadn’t been demoted—so why in the world would they suddenly be thinking of making me chief?

Kira had left me dog-tired, stretched, old, disillusioned with everything. I didn’t feel up to being the boss.

By the time we pulled up in front of Matsuda’s apartment, the rain had started to pour, but he opened his car door without a thought to it.

“Borrow my umbrella,” I offered.

“It’s not that far. Thanks for the ride.”

As he started to climb out, I snagged his arm, and he whipped around to stare at me, giving me the impression that he really wanted to get away from me right then, and I honestly couldn’t blame him, but all the same, if nothing else, I needed him to understand my concerns.

“Hey. Remember,” I said sternly. “If they make me chief, and you come in almost four hours late on my watch…” I drew a short breath to keep from wincing as I grated out the cold words, “I’ll take your badge.”

Matsuda held my gaze a long moment, measuring whether I truly meant that or not, and, again, I thought it seemed like he didn’t completely understand this crack he’d fallen into.

“This isn’t some job at a crappy fast food place, Corporal.”

It didn’t matter that he was depressed. It didn’t even matter that we were friends. He had to figure out a way to navigate through this in a professional and healthy way, and he needed to start working on that before anyone higher ranked than me noticed how badly he was failing.

Suddenly, Matsuda forced a grin. Amazing. It looked almost perfect—straight and white, lighting his face, turning back the clock to a month or two ago when he’d been okay—but his eyes looked darker than ever, and his voice fell flat as he agreed, “You got it, Captain.”

With that, he jerked away and shut the car door in my face.

For a moment, I watched him stalk up to the building, hunched in his coat, all the energy I’d always known him to have simply gone. A little voice nagged at me that I’d better do something.

That voice drove me in all sorts of circumstances. It had driven me to become a criminal investigator, it had driven me through the academy, and it had earned me every promotion I’d ever received. It drove me to get involved with the Kira case, it drove me to form my own task force when I had to leave L’s investigation, and it drove me to start cooperating with Near when I’d come to realize Light was Kira.

But, I recognized grimly, the only thing to my advantage was a couple ranks and almost ten years on Matsuda, and, despite what Mogi had said, that just wasn’t enough.

#writing #fanfiction #death note #Touta Matsuda #Shuichi Aizawa #epic #rewrite

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soulbranded · 5 years

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fight - from @sgtjamesbbbarnes

@sgtjamesbbbarnes – one word prompts

fight : my muse stops your muse from getting into a physical fight with someone else. (I’m flipping the script a little bit here)

Before the Accords fiasco, the farthest she’d been from home was a few trips down to New Orleans with Pasha. But now Rachel was traveling all over the place, and not just in the continental US. It made her feel very much the small-town girl, and not in the cutesy, romcom sense. It was fucking overwhelming. Languages she didn’t understand, unfamiliar customs, police, not to mention each country’s own thriving extra-human population. She was striking deals, making alliances, tracking people down–all things she should in theory be good at, but every time her throat went dry and her stomach squirmed. When she’d caught Steve looking over a classified file and finally coaxed the truth from him, it was almost a relief. He was looking for somebody. Tracking spells were cake.

Except they had no DNA. Why was nothing ever easy?

She’d thought about the problem for a solid three weeks. The dude they were chasing–Steve called him Bucky–had quite the reputation. She’d looked him up in what remained of the Council database. His arm seemed the key. It was unique. An energy signature, mechanics, something. The answer was right there, itching at the edge of her mind, until she finally latched on to something. As she was wont to do, she went chasing after it, meaning she dropped off the face of the earth for a while with just a scrawled note that said Got a plan, be back later, don’t break any walls.

She’d traveled to Europe on a glamoured passport. Magic made fake IDs so much easier. Her theory was a little sketchy, but it wasn’t without legs: the Winter Soldier was practically an underworld boogeyman, as old as Steve. Unless it was a Bond-esque reincarnation, some kind of enhancement had to be at work, and from what she’d read in her research–because despite her temperamental attitude, Rachel was fucking thorough–HYDRA had to be working on a serum similar to what Steve had received. If it was similar enough at the molecular level, it could provide her with at least a direction, if not an exact location. Europe was her hotspot based on her latest intel and gut instinct; Europe was familiar, the proverbial fortress on the hill, and snipers sought the high ground. Worst case scenario, she was on a wild goose chase. But hey, at least she got to play with some possibly mind-melting magic.

In Romania, she rented a small apartment and slept the jetlag off for a few hours before starting her ritual. Oh, how she missed her metal rings in her cabin. They made it so much easier to hold a circle. But chalk was going to have to do. She drew a wide circle and put her herbs and copper bowl in the middle of it, along with a small vial that she had paid an obscene amount of money for and on which all her hopes were riding. Like called to like, so if they were even remotely the same…well, she just had to hope. And hope the spell didn’t reveal her to anyone. Or kill her. Nobody said the plan was perfect.

Mugwort, cowslip, and iris root went into the bowl, along with a few extra ingredients. Rachel held the vial up and looked at it, then exhaled a long breath. Here went nothing. She dumped the vial–blood–into the bowl and then picked up a small knife and pricked her thumb, massaging her own blood into the mixture. A match to set the spell aflame and she was breathing in the earthy smoke. For a second, nothing happened. Then she saw a face, contorted in pain, some kind of machine attached to his head. She saw experiments. The whirred past her vision like a malicious tilt-a-whirl. She saw years of torture, of death, of pain. Memories that weren’t her own flickered like a movie reel, and above it all, it was cold. So, so cold.

This was not her usual tracking spell. She was getting this man’s life. And she couldn’t stop it. Her mind recoiled, trying to push the horror away, but it stayed with her, an avalanche that buried her own thoughts and emotions. As suddenly as it started, it abruptly shifted. A street. Modern times. A small cafe and a man hunched over a cup of coffee like it held the elixir of life. He looked up.

Bucky.

The spell broke, and Rachel fell backwards onto her elbows, panting. Well, her brain hadn’t dissolved, but she had this weight. Everything she’d seen and felt sat on her chest in a writhing mass, incapable of being separated, just one huge jumble of misery. This was who Steve wanted to find?

This was the fabled Winter Soldier?

As soon as she collected herself, she grabbed her bag and gun and dashed out the door. She knew that street. It was fresh in her mind and it wasn’t far away. Her gut said the spell had ended in real time. She could make it. And she could–do what, exactly? Walk up to a deadly assassin and say Hi, wanna go to New York?

Great, Rachel. You flew halfway around the world, cooked up some sketchy ass magic, and ended it with no plan. What was that about being thorough?

But those memories stayed with her. This man, this Bucky, to say he’d been through hell was an understatement. It made her remember a grey windowless room with a chair bolted to the floor, and an emotionless voice telling her she must have faith. Steve had faith in this guy, and she had faith in her gut, so she plowed ahead. What was he gonna do, shoot her in broad daylight?

Maybe. Well, it wouldn’t be the first time, and probably wouldn’t be the last. One day she was going to learn to improve her life choices.

She rounded a corner and saw a faded red awning above some black metal chairs. The cafe. In the corner, tucked as far away from others as he could get and with his back to the building–the Paranoid Chair, as she liked to call it, which also happened to be her favorite–was Bucky. He looked like he’d gotten his clothes from a lost and found and had a baseball cap pulled down low over his eyes, but it was him. Rachel almost laughed in satisfaction. It’d worked. She hesitated for a moment, keenly aware of the gun in her shoulder holster beneath her jacket. Her gut said she needed to come at this with those memories in mind. Put the Soldier aside and remember the man. Christ, wasn’t that poetic, coming from her.

She started walking toward him when a throng of men entered her vision, approaching from the south. They were heading straight for Bucky too, and they did not look like they’d chosen the Friend Route RPG option. Rachel sped up, but she was farther away, and had to cross a busy thoroughfare. The men reached Bucky first, and she almost got hit by a car due to her fixation on his reaction. She knew that body language. It was defensive, reluctant. Dangerous but unwilling.

She slapped the hood of another car as she ran across the street. Bucky’s fists were clenched and the men were shouting at him in a language she didn’t understand, their faces hard with rage. The man at the front, who was approximately the size of a small mountain, drew back his fist, but she saw it first. Bucky was countering already, his left arm, the enhanced arm, ready to fly up.

Without thinking, Rachel flung her hand out and sent a spell flying. It hit the man in front and knocked him into the wall so hard it cracked. “Stop!”

The men turned in unison to look at this little redhead running up to them speaking a foreign language. Rachel drew to a halt, putting herself between them and Bucky. He towered over her, almost as tall as Steve, but she’d taken bigger fish.

“I said stop.” She panted, more from adrenaline than the run, and magic crackled along her skin. Another roll of her wrist and she cast a glamour over Bucky. “He’s not who you think he is.”

Mountain Man eyed her. “Cine dracu esti tu?”

Rachel blinked. “Listen, just… shoo.” She made a flapping motion with her hand. She could amp up the magic and scare the hell out of them, but that risked attracting even more attention, and she actually was trying to deescalate the situation.

“Nu este nimeni. Lasă-o din ea,” Bucky said. Rachel looked behind her at him, and he deftly sidestepped her so that he was now shielding her. She had to duck to the side to see what was happening. Goddamned tall guys.

They exchanged a few more words that Rachel didn’t understand, and their postures grew more threatening. Her interference seemed to have caused a shift in Bucky. He was trying to protect her. He pulled his arm back again, and this time she hit him with a spell, although it wasn’t nearly as strong—just enough to knock him off his balance.

“Look,” Rachel said, exasperated, and gestured to Bucky. Her glamour came off him in strong waves, but unless she was the unluckiest person on earth, these guys would see an old man instead of the true Bucky.

They looked between each other, looked at Bucky, looked at her, back at Bucky, and after several eternities, turned around and stormed away. Bucky was leaning against the wall, holding his arm. Rachel winced. She really hoped she hadn’t just given him cause for another punch.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said. “I just didn’t think it was a good idea to draw attention with a fight.”

He looked at her with haunted eyes. Rachel was suddenly freezing. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice rusty as if from disuse.

“Would you believe I’m a friend?” His face said no. “Okay, friend of a friend? I’m a friend of Steve’s.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to blink. His eyes darted back and forth as if he were sorting through information. “Steve Rogers?”

“Yeah.” Now that the immediate danger was gone, she went into damage control and looked around. A few people were staring, but nobody had stopped and she didn’t hear any sirens, but it was probably better to get the hell out of here. “Why don’t I buy you a coffee somewhere else and tell you all about it?”

He hesitated. “No.”

Oh, how the turns had tabled. She knew that look. It was paranoia, the kind that comes when they really are out to get you. And she knew, oh she knew, that it was the kind of paranoia that wouldn’t budge.

“Bucky,” she said. “I know you got no reason to trust me. But I swear I come in peace.”

The name got his attention, and he gave her a tortured look. “What did you do to me?” He let go of his arm and rotated it, but the movement was off. It was less like working a muscle and more like realigning a transmission.

“Magic. I’m… not normal. And we’ve got some things in common.” She offered him a wan smile.

He stared at her for a long moment, and she swore he could see straight down to her bones. “Why are you here?”

That was the question wasn’t it. Ostensibly, she was there because of Steve. But after what she’d seen in the spell, she had absolutely no desire to make this man do anything he didn’t want to do. There were days she could still feel the spelled iron around her wrist. She wasn’t going to take away anyone’s will, come hell or high water.

“I’m here to talk. To give you some options, and then to do what you want. If you want to come with me, you can. If you want me to get lost, I’ll never bother you again. Either way, it’s your choice.”

His eyes cast downward for a moment, and then he sighed. “Are you okay with a bit of a walk? There’s another cafe far enough away from here we should be safe.”

Rachel smiled, and there was warmth in it. “Lead the way.”

#memes: answered #re: I never knew daylight could be so violent; bucky #v: heroes fall with broken hearts;#sgtjamesbbbarnes #OH MY GOD #IT'S SO LONG #I'M SO SORRY #i have a lot of commentary about this fic #rachel stories #illfatedvoyage #asks: answered

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erlangs · 7 years

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❤️ :)

truly i hate liza bc she knows id do this to outdo her ( mere ) 655 word compliment so she sent it even tho i didnt reblog the goddamn post sdfsdf and i hate myself bc im doing it anyway. the thing is under the cut bc its really fucking long and i hate u liza.

ok so, that disclaimer aside, where do i start with liza? man, i legit still cant believe that im ur oldest good tumblr friend?? thats such an honor?? honestly tho, it feels like its been longer than only two and a half years?? before u mentioned that on ur compliment, i honestly thought that weve been here for at least three years. sometimes its just v easy to forget for me that i havent known you for like, half my life ( it doesnt help that u know one of my irl friends irl too rip ). ur presence is constantly there, and for two people who can get irritated real quick by a never ending presence, ur right; we really do make it work. i really like how youre always around but not in a way that it pressures me or anything, i just know youre gonna be there always and i hope you know the same about me too?? even if we dont talk for a few days or only talk briefly i just know youre still gonna be there when im back, and i hope you know that the same applies to you too. im still gonna be here, ok.

tbh its amazing to me too how while we’ve both changed and grew up and all that, we’re also still kinda the same?? in the sense that, aside from bonding over emmastan bein losers and other things, a lot of our convos from the beginning were riddled w salt too?? and here we are, still getting salty every single day. SPEAKING OF SALT, u know one thing that im rly grateful of of u too?? its the fact that altho u indulge my saltiness and we get petty a lot, u always always without fail help me put a brake to that saltiness. u know to stop me when u know that the salt is gonna pull me under and drag me down, u know to remind me that sometimes bitterness isnt the right way to go, and im honestly really grateful that we have that balance in our conversations?? the fact that ur firm w me when i need it is smth that i v much appreciate too like i feel like ?? neither of us are scared to speak our minds w each other too and thats really nice?? honestly, idt ive ever really skirted around about anything with u and like even if it takes me a while to bring up ( usually nothing to do w u too lmao more like personal issues i have n stuff ) it always gets brought up?? u also got a good head on your shoulders ( altho sometimes we both know that u use it better when ur giving other ppl advice rather than looking @ urself LMAO ) and i really appreciate how i can always come to you to help me rationalize things too. i remember like i used to come to u a lot about getting second opinions bc i know ur always gonna look at from an unbiased pov if u can and ur always honest about what u think?? and thats honestly still something i do a lot too, whether its rp apps or personal issues or whatever else.

and see, thats the thing. i think sometimes criticizing can be rly tough but u?? make it so easy?? its v easy for us to proofread each others things and stuff and thats why i really like showing you my rp apps as well? there are a few people who id be like “ok i know my work is good if this person says its good”, and youre one of those people. bc youre honest, but not brutal, and i really appreciate that about you. i mean, u know we can be brutal w each other n not rly mind but even outside of me, ur always v v mindful and i find that amazing?? u just....always try rly but also!! another thing that i admire about u is the fact that even tho u always try to be there for ur friends too, u know when to draw the line and take time for urself. i think like talking to you about things like this helped me get a stronger grasp on myself too? someone complimented me saying that it seems like i know who i am v well and while i know i still have a lot to learn too about myself and my place in the world and im still figuring the fuck out of everything, i feel like the people around me defff helped me find my footing better and tbh, ur one of those people. u helped me find my stance while still grow and all, and just overall, i feel like a lot of our convos when we’re not talking abt our sims or charas being complete messes or we’re talking abt random things like rice, they help a lot w self discovery?? which idt ive ever properly thought about either, but since i basically said i could probably write u a 1k compliment, why not bring it up here?? writing this down made me realize that too, so.

jfk, this is so long already ( the end of that paragraph? thats when i told its already 914 words ) and i havent even gotten into like the more Aesthetic things n ur talentz and skillz n all that. but u know time and time again ive told you how much i love your writing?? i know sometimes we look at other ppls writings and yell about how pretty they are, but i hope you know never for a second have i ever thought that ur writing is inferior to any pretty writing. like u said, we have similar writing styles and by default LMAO if u want me to be confident abt my writing style ( which i am, and again a lot of ppl close to me have helped me w that n that includes u ) then i want u to do the same w urs bc we write kind of similarly. and its amazing, bc i think our writing is v different too but also?? a v similar tone?? it makes rping w u v easy for me too bc theres just?? so little pressure?? and before we know it our threads are 1k+ n we’re yelling at each other abt how its effort but we still try outdo each other anyway. but really, you know that im honest about ur writing and when something feels like it doesnt work for me or anything i always straight up will tell u but the thing is, it so rarely happens?? genuinely, i love love your writing and also your character creation process and everything else. just — the amount of work u put into ur fiction impresses me and also, as lazy as you are, it always amazes me how u would push urself and do replies and stuff too even tho i know u stare at them for 10 hours being like “effort”.

anyway, i really should end this soon lmao but one more thing!! i cant not bring this up ok!! i think my favorite thing about you is that youre always so genuine. like, i could be talking abt an anime that u dont even have any idea what it looks like and ud still genuinely listen and be interested and god, i appreciate that sooo much about u?? steffi yells at u abt kpop n kdramas and i yell at u abt games and anime and never for one second have i ever felt like u were dismissing us?? and truly, its amazing bc i know in some friendships ppl mostly talk abt what they have in common but i feel like with you and me, we can talk abt something the other has zero knowledge abt and its still chill. and i hope u know im always interested in what u gotta say too, sometimes im slow w responding n stuff or dont respond w multiple texts but u know im always interested. i mean, for fucks sake, i attentively listen to 4 of ur simventures and its been truly a wild ride.

our friendship as a whole was probably a Wild Ride, so much has happened in the past 2 and a half years ( u graduated, i graduated, amongst other things ) and here’s to many many more years of being trash saltmates i love u

#userseonhwang #anyways truly i hate liza #liza #ask meme stuff #seonhwang #answered

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edenfalling · 7 years

Note

Ooh! Homestuck, Dirk, Roxy, cuddle. It's the post-Sburb world, and there are too many people all the time, and only Dirk and Roxy want to flee screaming to a (pair of) faraway mountains. Bring back the blissful solitude of the post-apocalypse.

Notcompliant with the credits snapchats, because reasons. :) [2,700 words]

---------------------------------------------Some Little Talk aWhile of Me and Thee---------------------------------------------

The stupid part is, up until that one moment, Roxy washaving a really good night. All her friends (except Dirk, who hung grimly onthrough dinner and absconded immediately thereafter) together in one room, enoughdinner for everyone to eat their fill and then dessert on top of that, thepleasant ache of an honest day's work building the infrastructure of their newworld... yeah. A good night.

Except the thing is, as much as she needs people -- and sheneeds people a lot, needs that feedback loop of attention paid and returned --there's a big difference between hanging out online and hanging out with adozen people jammed together in a single room. And she hasn't been gettingalone time during the days either, always busy working with a crew ofcarapacians (who at least are quiet) and consorts (who are emphatically not).

Roxy doesn't notice the slow buildup of stress, but she canpinpoint exactly when the night tips from I-can-manage to oh-god-make-it-stop.

She's been kibitzing on the edges of Rose, John, and Jane'smeal planning session (defusing any baby disagreements before they grow intoanything serious), keeping half an ear on the Pictionary session Callie,Kanaya, and Terezi have going in the far corner, and watching Jade gleefullyannihilate Dave and Karkat at Mario Kart. It's maybe a little bit much to betracking all at once, but the satisfaction outweighs the strain until Davethrows a piece of popcorn at Jade, who teleports it into the tangle of Karkat'shair, who draws breath in preparation for an inside-voice-what-inside-voicerant, and Roxy is abruptly and completely done.Zip, zilch, finito, cutlery shop's closed up and all the merchandise is gone.

She shoves herself up from the warm and squashy armchair shestaked out as her private territory back when they first built this grouphouse, and says to nobody in particular: "I'm gonna go check on Dirk, it'sbeen a while since he noped out and I want to make sure he hasn't broken his neckor started a robot apocalypse in his sleep."

Rose and Jane break off their debate over the relativemerits of fish tacos and sushi to give her a pair of sharp glances. John justlooks adorkably confused.

Roxy dredges up a smile from her last reserves of sociability.

It must not be very convincing, because Rose frowns andtenses like she's going to ask if Roxy needs any help, or maybe even stand upand give her a hug. Her concern is like a warm mug of hot chocolate, but thething about warm mugs of hot chocolate is they're awesome on a frigid winterday after messing around in the snow for a couple hours, but this specific timeand place are more like a metaphorical scorching summer day when you're alreadysugared out and anything sweet makes you want to gag. In other words, amomdaughter's loving attention is nice in theory, but it's not conducive tonoping the fuck out of the room, not to mention if anyone touches her rightnow, Roxy might actually break down and scream.

Fortunately, Jane rescues her.

She does something to Rose -- elbows her? kicks her underthe coffee table? hard to say -- and while Rose is busy trying to regather hertrain of thought, Jane grins at Roxy, somehow managing to make the expressionboth obviously fake and equally obviously made of 24-carat solid goldsincerity.

"That sounds like an excellent plan!" she says."When you find him, tell him that Jade needs to run the latest plans forthe electricity grid past him, particularly the battery storage systems forevening the solar and wind outputs. I think the files are in the civilengineering dropbox account, so he shouldn't need to ask her for anything untilhe's finished reviewing and annotating them."

Roxy nods.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Scram!" Janemakes little shooing motions with her hands.

Rose, apparently catching on to Roxy's actual state of mind,smiles benevolently and waves goodbye. "Au revoir," she says in herperpetually dry tone. "If anyone asks where you are, I'll tell them I sentyou to give daddy dearest my love, perhaps in the form of seagull pie."

Jane rolls her eyes. John snickers and sticks out his tonguein mostly mock-disgust.

"Thanks, guys," Roxy manages to say, and flees.

---------------

After a indeterminate period of time trying not tohyperventilate in her en suite bathroom, she sits cross-legged on her bed andwonders if she ought to make good on her escape excuse.

Dirk's even worse with large groups than Roxy is and doesn'tmake any attempt to pretend otherwise, but he's still human (no matter how muchhe sometimes dislikes that fact) and even the most introverted human is, atbase, a social animal. And not all contact has to be as overwhelming as groupevents.

Roxy pulls out her phone, briefly contemplates calling him,then tosses that plan right the fuck out the window. Voices are bullshit. Textis their mutual mother tongue, and she'd bet at least half a baby universe Dirkisn't up for vocalizing right now.

-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified[TT] --

TG: the thing nobody ever tells you about other people ishow fuckin NOISY they areTG: amiright?TG: i never thought id say this, but i miss ourpost-apocalyptic disaster zoneTG: not like, the looming threat of the batterwitch n shit,but the quietTG: maybe even some of the survivalist stuffTG: rose and the crockerberts gave me the weirdest look wheni said we should make seagull pie for our next movie night extravaganzaTG: there is GOOD EATING on seagullsTG: and they make a nice change from fish you know?TG: i thought id finally gotten away from descaling fishwhen we ditched sea hitlers water hellscape, but nopeTG: here we are back to fish for every meal that doesnt comestraight from our alchemiters and dwindling stocks of gristTG: (its ok you dont have to talk back if you dont want to)TG: (i just wanted to bitch to someone who gets it)TT: It's cool.TT: I know exactlywhat you mean about the quiet.TT: If you're game toendure the ultra minimum of human contact, i.e., breathing within the samecubic meter of air, I'm on the roof by the south chimney.TT: If not, I can seethe dock and it's currently unoccupied.TT: Assuming this isa day when the incessant susurrus of waves will invoke positive memories ratherthan negative ones, that could make a decent temporary retreat.TG: awww, ur a sweetie, sitting watch over our friends likea depressed gargoyleTG: on due consideration im ok with breathing your grosspre-breathed airTG: maybe if we get really daring we can work up to touchingpinky fingers!TG: le gaspTT: Scandalous. What will the neighbors say?TT: But I'm down forperversion if you are, Ms. Lalonde.TG: k hang onto your panties, im coming up

-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified[TT] --

---------------

Roxy scrambles over the edge of the roof (she could justfly, of course, but where's the fun in that?) to find Dirk not just near thesouth chimney but actually curled up in the angle where it meets the solartiles, using the heat radiating from the bricks to counter the early autumnchill. He has his shades off in deference to the darkness, but his eyes are closedinstead of aimed up toward the frankly gorgeous light of the pink and whitemoons, both approaching full tonight.

Roxy flops back against the dark tiles of the roof, armsspread wide, and watches the moons flirt with thin veils of cloud. Her friends'voices drift out of the open windows downstairs, but distance and the ambientsounds of wind and wave blur them into a companionable sort of white noise. Theconsorts' various weekend parties are louder, but further away; noticeable onlywhen a line or two of song finds a favorable breeze or a new branch tossed on abonfire sends a gust of sparks above the trees and roofs of the slowly growingtown.

The carapacians' celebrations, of course, make no sound.

She and Dirk breathe in companionable silence for nearly anhour, while the white moon travels fifteen degrees toward zenith and the pinkmoon nearly twenty degrees in the same direction, edging toward partialeclipse. Roxy's still kind of giddy over the orbital mechanics of a three-bodysystem, and the difference two moons make in the rhythm of the tides. It couldtake years to work the changes into her bones.

She has years tospend on things like that. She spent her whole childhood isolated and trappedunder an incessant, shadowy weight. Now it's gone. She's free. She's not aloneanymore.

It would be nice if she were better at coping with thatchange.

Beside her, Dirk sighs, pulls his legs up to his chest, andrests his face between his knees. Something's gone cockeyed in his head again,and if nobody interrupts him he'll just debate himself into knots and grandiose'for your own good' bullshit stunts.

And hey, an hour of silence isn't enough to get Roxyanywhere near ready to face a crowd, but it's more than enough to talk to heroldest friend.

"The dumbest thing," she says, jumping straight inbecause what's the sense in wasting mouth noises on irrelevancies, "isthat weekend movie nights aren't even party-parties,nothing loud or crazy intense. It's just all our best friends hanging out oncomfy sofas playing goofy sleepover games, but stupid me got so wound up I hadto run screaming into the night. Otherwise I would've lost my shit at them overfish tacos and a popcorn fight, and that's just wrong with a capital R."

"Capital W," Dirk mutters, uncurling slightly andtilting his head until a sliver of orange iris is visible over the edge of hisright knee.

"Pedant," Roxy says, rather than draw attention tohis temporary lack of shades. "I just keep thinking, it shouldn't bug meso much. You've got a perfect excuse to flip out at extended socialinteractions, mister raised-by-robots. I actually had real live neighbors. Ishould be over this by now."

Dirk shrugs, which looks incredibly doofy when he's allcurled up like a pill bug. "As people keep telling me, brains aren'tparticularly logical organs. Besides, there's a pretty big difference betweensign language and a dozen plus people with actual vocal cords, some of whomhave a tragically shaky grasp of appropriate volume control."

"Ha. Yeah. Still."

"Still," Dirk agrees.

Roxy spreads her arms wide, staring up at the moons and theas-yet-unnamed constellations of their new universe, galaxy, solar system.Their new sun's a little brighter than Sol used to be -- a little smaller inthe sky, a little more pure-white than yellow-white -- and more like Alternia'ssun in its position vis-à-vis galactic center, which makes for some amazinglydense and brilliant starscapes. And she's saying this as a person who grew upwith no artificial light to blank out old Earth's night skies.

"Humans made the trolls' signs into constellationswithout any outside influence, just the shape of the universe orsomething," she muses. "I wonder if it's cheating to design ourconstellations ourselves."

Dirk shrugs again, a faint movement of shadow against darkershadow in the corner of her vision. "All our sessions were fucked from thestart; we had to cheat just to get out alive. What's a little more cheatingcompared to that? Ethical qualms aside, I'm pretty sure this planet isn't goingto be the focus of any future Sburb sessions. That dubious honor goes to the billionsof native planets kicking around this universe. If anyone's getting gentlymanipulated into using three-eyed cats and purple horrorterrors as part oftheir star myths, it's all those statistically inevitable aliens out there inthe wild black yonder."

"I bet their myths kick ass," Roxy says.

"I believe that's more or less implicit in thedefinition of the word. I'm not sure what they'll make of a hat or an LPrecord, though," Dirk says.

This time it's Roxy's turn to shrug. "Old-schoolD&D monsters, maybe? Or no, ten gets you one they'll go with crows andseagulls instead." She pauses, reconsiders. "Then again, Terezi'ssymbol is basically a giant lab tool with a shit-ton of cultural baggage, andKarkat's is kind of like, handcuffs, right? Maybe hats wind up as a symbol ofintellect and general badassery -- oh! or artificial life, like Frosty theSnowman's magic hat, 'cause of your robots and puppets thing -- and recordssymbolize creativity and art and stuff."

"Hats as a symbol of hubris and overreach, morelikely," Dirk mutters.

Roxy wriggles sideways until she's just close enough toflick the fingertips of her left hand against the side of his shoe. "Knockit off, dumbass. Nobody gets to badmouth my best friend -- not even my bestfriend."

Dirk unburies his face and meets Roxy's eyes straight on,one eyebrow raised. "I was under the impression that that title belongedto either Jane or Calliope. When did I inherit the position, and why was I notpreviously informed of this change in status? Are you sure you're followingfriend protocol correctly?"

Roxy flicks his shoe again. "Friendship is a bigcategory! You're all, like, different instantiations of the concept of 'bestfriend' -- Callie's my squee and kissing partner, Janey's my partner in crime,Rosie's my sister, Jake's my goofing off friend, Dave's my surrealism feedbackdude, John's my maybe-kinda-sorta other kissing partner, and so on and soforth. You, Dirk Strider, are theperson who knows me best in two and a half entire fucking universes. Okay?You're the one who knows what it's like. If I ever run off to be a hermit on amountaintop, I want you to come be a hermit on the mountain next door. We cansend heliograph messages back and forth, or learn how to yodel and shit, andonce a month we'll get together and have a wild and crazy hermit party, justthe two of us. That's the kind of best friend you are for me."

Dirk is silent for a long moment. Then he unwraps his righthand from his legs and lets it drop downward until his fingertips are justbrushing the soft, ticklish (completely un-carapacian) skin of Roxy's leftwrist, right over the veins carrying blood back to her heart.

"All that, back at you," he says.

Roxy blinks back a sudden rush of tears, and laces theirfingers together. Dirk lets her.

"Jade has some electric grid plans for you to lookover," she says after a minute. "You can do that anywhere,right?"

"Yeah," Dirk says.

"Then come seagull hunting with me tomorrow. Just the twoof us, out on the water. Like old times. I have a harpoon gun I've been wantingto try out, and we can tell anyone who complains that we're taking soundingsand stuff for potential tidal generators. Hell, we can even actually do that.But I miss you. I keep getting tangled up in everyone else and losing sight ofus."

Dirk squeezes her fingers. From him, it's as good as a hug.

"Yeah," he says. "It's a plan."

Roxy looks up at the night sky rather than try to put heremotions into words. There's a patch that looks a bit like a cat with wings, ifshe squints and takes some heavy artistic license. She holds up her phone inher right hand and adjusts the camera settings until she can snap a usefulpicture. She'll photoshop the constellation in later tonight and show it toDirk tomorrow: their friendship, immortalized in stars.

"Cool," she says.

They watch the pink moon overtake the white one in silence,fingers still entwined, the same air pumping in and out of their lungs.

---------------------------------------------

End of Fic

---------------------------------------------

It's still a little disjointed, I think, but whatever. Iwin. \o/

#liz writes stuff #homestuck #roxy lalonde #dirk strider #mini ficlet prompt meme #cotton candy bingo #asks and answers #in conversation with the internet #madamehardy #generalized content warning

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survivor-of-removal · 4 years

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even today i can still that word in my head from those fuckers, weirdo, weirdo, gay, freak, cunt, mad, psycho, weirdo weirdo" if i just walked past on smiled at them politely or said hello they would have a go at me. i never understood why. At home i would go straight to my room, read creepypastas, cry my eyes out every night, bite myself on my arm, coming down for dinner, i would become irritable at the sound of my parents eating, i wouldn't even finish my dinner. Half the plate was there. Thinking back on it i feel so guilty and upset. My parents must have been agonized by all this, my isolating behaviour, my obsession with slender man. My mum knew of course. She showed me the something awful forum thread. i cried myself to sleep that night. i knew he was real, but no, to everyone else it was a meme. a stupid urban legend. i began to view him, the slender man, as the only person i had, the only one apart from a few people that i saw from time to time. when i wasn't around them things would go back to shit. Seeing them were the only lights in my life. and another lesson go and it would go back to the dirty looks and the insults and the shoving around and the making fun of me when i was trying to do my work. Or in the lunch queue, stupid year 11 girls coming up to me "Look at this boy man, he's so weird, hey tell this girl about that thing thats stalking you", "oh he believes in slender man", "he's a freak but kind of cute", "he's a fucking weirdo, a stupid loner". Depression kicked in, i would just bang my head against the wall until my eyes flashed in my head. i hated myself. Their words leaked into me. and all the time seeing that thing following me around. slender man, could he help me?

On Saturdays i started going to the woods, i wore a mask i made based to the marble hornets Masky mask, i would wear a black hoodie, black trousers and off id go to the woods, calling his name, asking him things. i saw him a few times, mainly i just spoke to him, a few people coming through the woods giving me Odd looks and such. People in the park staring at me as i made my way up to the woods in my mask. The mask was all i had. and it wasn't long until some two stupid kids asked me if i was possessed in the playground at the park on the edge of the woods thought it would be funny to push my off the swing and grab my mask. and ill never forget what they said:

"oh my god its Steven" my laughed tore up my mask and fucking ran off. pussies. The funniest part was i didn't even recognize them but surely enough when i went to school on Monday it spread like wildfire that i was apparently "stalking people in the woods with a creepy mask". and sure i was. in the name of slender man, because i thought he would be the only one to save me, the operator was my salvation.

i saw the rake once out the school cafeteria window and got freaked out, clearly i was attracting attention from their realm or whatever. i got more and more engrossed, every Saturday it was off to the woods on my bike, running past the cunts at the park, into the woods, stalking people. i started to get revelations, a deep monstrous voice as i did so. i knew who it was, it was him: the Slender man. apparently i was training. What for i didn't know, i began getting manic episodes even at school which of course Didn’t help at all.

There was a festival just up the road from my grandparents house, in a small village. It was a parade of people dressed up playing drums and stuff. That night whilst my family was enjoying themselves in the theme park after the parade had gone, i ran off to the tree line. he was there, in the shadows, suit, tie everything. i got on my knees saying i wished to serve him as a proxy. i got this sudden sense of... i dont even know, it was a weird feeling of joy, something i had not felt in so long. i got up nodded my head and said "yes master" to nothing, for no reason, i just new now though i was his, i was his proxy and if i was a good servant he would give me relief, perhaps even hurt the bullies that had been after me for too long now.

The wooded Saturdays continued. The kids there knew who i was now. Just a creep running into the woods. i did stalk these two boys trying to lure them to the woods, but the one younger than me ran up at hit me, really going for me so i ran off. I’m not surprised to be fair. Who wouldn't seeing a child wearing all black, hooded with a mask. Especially if older

the late October holidays were coming and i went to Cyprus. Nothing happened there. It was like a proxy break almost. i read Creepypasta there and everything but other than that it was a sweet break. From school as well which at that point had gotten so bad i was beginning to consider running way. i did put a knife to my neck though with serious intent because i got upset one night. i dont even remember why. Mad times...

when i got back to school thought everything went bad again, my life became gray once more. The brief moment of family enjoyment turned sour and my mum contacted mental health services. i became rude, isolative, silent on occasions and regective of going out. Weekends became worse as my family relationship really began to break down. We were arguing all the time, shouting at each other. i was aggressive, violent, i threw things. i even began to be nasty to my dog, my own sweet bichon frize. She was my dog, practically brought for me. i would chase her off and shout at her. i didn't hit her or anything though. Wow, what a dick i was, maybe i deserved what i got. Maybe not... i dont know

i tried recruiting another guy at school as a proxy, i gave him a letter he signed, a proxy approval. My mum found a copy and said shed call the police if shed ever found anything like that again. i had to climb out the front bathroom window to grab the one i had left in the drive way for slender man. when i would go to the woods i started to get confused. With everything still going on, people now telling me to go and kill myself, that no one loved me, my dads a nerd, I’m a girl (i flashed myself to prove them i was a boy), I’m gay, i have no friends and never will. they began shoving me around a lot more and people began making false accusations. Making fun of my obsession and my interest in slender man. i went to the woods asking him for help. i waited another week. At this point i started to get in serious trouble. i had to be removed from the class for being disruptive. they locked the gate that led to my hiding place and said i couldn't sit up at the fire exit. my family had really started to argue. i asked my mum to take me home, saying i was sick. i wasn't really. Just so fed up with the bullies. i would lock myself in the bathroom or stay inside close to the staff. i spent entire times in the library on the computers still being mocked by everyone who came by. someone changed my screensaver to the troll face and deleted a lot of my work when i went to get a book. Every day i woke up i considered running away before going to school because it was just getting too much. i would walk through the grounds and people would shout names to me. i hanged out with the guy i tried to make a proxy, he was big and i thought it was safe. It was as safe as i could get i suppose. But people still took the piss. he told them to fuck off and they did. i would cry and cry for hours when i went home, Barricading myself in my bedroom. i decided slender man wasn't doing anything good for me. people at school would make fun of me for going to the woods calling me a stalker and a freak saying i wanted to rape and murder people. The boy i trusted began turning his back on me because he didn't want to get in trouble and the big lad i felt safe with was busy with other friends. i just had to hide in the toilets sometimes i wouldn't even come out for lessons too scared of what will happen to me. more name-calling, more people sighing if i was paired up, people insulting me without the teacher doing anything, the teachers joined in sometimes i swear saying stuff like "well he is very disruptive". i would get shouted at, but i didn't care anymore. i felt numb, what had i done to myself. no... it was him.... he did this to me... slender man...

if it weren't for him i wouldn't have isolated myself, i wouldn't have talked about such things that the other students classed as freaky and weird. i biked to the woods one final time, no mask, no hoodie. i got chased by one of the bullies on his bike who grabbed me and beat me before running off. i tried complimenting him on his skills, but he showed no mercy. Everyone hated me now. fuck it, fuck you, fuck you slender man. i dumped my bike, went into the woods shouting into the distance that i quit. My family life, my school life, even my dreams were unbearable. heartbreaking. i was sick, thinking about suicide. Names, insults, mocks shouted into my ears every day. Even at home my mum began to call me different. We argued for so long sometimes, the shouting got so loud. i quit being a proxy. fuck you slender man. You ruined my chance at this academy full of jerks, you messed up all of this you fucking dickhead. i felt as if i was bleeding everyday, tears and sweat. bruises, punches, death threats. It was too much, death seemed a better option. a good cut up the wrists. Anything to end the agony, the distress, the torture i faced everyday. The sickness didn't even get better, the obsession still dominating my life. Notebooks and whole packs of paper, my school books covered in the operator symbol, slender man drawings. Drawings of people impaled, people hanging from their necks i was disturbed, i didn't even know what i was doing anymore. as the year grew colder my life became worse and worse. i couldn't cough without a dirty look, i couldn't come into the classroom without an insult, i could be in a sports lesson without groaning. i didn't know what to do anymore. Everything was falling apart. Everything. i couldn't eat, i didn't sleep, i didn't go out, i didn't talk to my parents, when i did it was arguments and curses. every night tears, teeth and blood. Bad dreams in the precious hours of sleep i got.

Even in those rare incidents i did go out in public i was scared of being spotted, being humiliated in front of my own mother. It was a mixture of anger, anxiety and depression, a huge weight of boiling water in my chest. Soon enough at school i slowly walked up the fire exit staircase outside. this was it. i had enough. slender man would never go away. i was to be dead soon anyway. i looked down at the ground ready to jump off before the big lad led me down.

i was placed on 1:1 where someone needs to supervise me doing everything. a thorough risk assessment was made. Classes like DT (woodwork), art, anything involving something i could use to hurt myself was monitored closely. i couldn't see my big friend anymore. The other guy i trusted had turned his back on me, as for the other guy who defended me, the people he hanged out with didn't like me as much as he tried to tell them i had been victimized

i tried forgetting slender man. About 6 months of obsession was not easy to forget. i tried focusing my time on learning German. But even then the popular "der ritter" and "der großmann came up. i tried focusing on anything but i couldn't get it out my head. i tried immersing myself in a fantasy world with imaginary friends. i was on the brink of insanity.

i made a mistake then... someone asked me a question about slender man. i said "I’m moving on, i dont want to talk about that" im such a fucking idiot (in their own words too) why did i say that. For the next two weeks everywhere i went: "slender" "slender mans coming to get you" and it made me sick. didn't these fuckers know if i didn't forget i could be in serious danger? oh! wait no, because they didn't believe in what i did. after all i was just a stupid psychotic weirdo. It was a game to them. who can piss him off the most. Even in drama class someone made a play. they all smiled and shouted out the title of the play before preforming "slender returns" i felt sick, dizzy. i charged out the classroom covering my ears crying. i locked myself in a toilet and cried for twenty minutes. a staff member found me after checking all the toilets. apparently they had been looking all over for me. i sat with them for a while. It wasn't long after i began dissociating regularly, finding out that i had done this and that... i hadn't... at least not me...

It was the twelve of December. The day i would die of suicide. But i wanted to annoy them, to make them feel guilty after everything i had done. Whilst everyone was getting changed i tied a noose around my neck standing on my tiptoes on my school bag. For some odd reason everyone was going mad, begging me not to. this always irritates me. these were the same fuckers who told me to kill myself every time they fucking saw me. these were the fuckers that poked and prodded me and shoved me around, these were the fuckers that harassed me when i was minding my own business. These were the fuckers that would call me a weirdo every time i walked past them, these were the fuckers that spoke to me like a piece of shit, that never picked me, and when they had to they groaned like i stunk, these were the fuckers that treated me like a piece of shit, had no remorse or empathy, made a laughingstock of me, scapegoated me, lied about me, manipulated me, made allegations. Even when i tried to be nice, these fuckers were cunts. they deserved to see me die. If i am not a human being like them then why should they care?

The sports teacher ran in and undid the noose practically carried me out made me undress and dress in front of him, and then he called my mum, and we waited about 4 hours in A and E for a couple of doctors to come up and assess me. luckily i went home that night. The school sent me work. My mum didn't exactly approve, instead giving me her own timetable of mainly, creative art work and creative writing. She saved me. it was no more slender man... no more bullies... our relationship rebuilt. The family became closer. i paid more attention to my dog. and once again our dogly friendship rebuilt. slender man became a distant thought. i destroyed everything i had on him, the drawings, the notebooks, everything... he was gone. I stopped reading creepypastas full stop

i went to the woods one final time then. Just to say goodbye, a Canine goodbye, i told him he may be a force for good and maybe he should think next time how to do things properly. i said goodbye. i snapped a picture of him, the Facebook account i posted it on was oddly terminated. Anyway i asked him to leave me alone, just this once let his victim go. i felt oddly peaceful as i walked out the woods despite encountering a bully who asked why i wasn't in school. i said because i tried to kill myself, he said "because of slender man" and did this stupid noise with his lounge. in a way he was right. But i said "no, because of you" and walked off. they stole my bike helmet whilst i was in the woods, fucking sods. they probably still have it after all these years.

The new year began peaceful. 2013 was out the fucking window. Maybe 13 is an unlucky number. Whatever the case i was ready to begin a new life without slender man, get into a new school and try again. Cliche, i was fucking wrong. Because as i now know, slender man is not a force for good, and trust me, he ldoesn't leave his victims alone.

(End of part 4)

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flyingcookierambles · 4 years

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the text id from the screenshots, if you need it

“There, I now have my part of the bounty,” said Hugo. “Thank you. It will make up for the destroyed Marshall II.”

“Oh...? How much are those things, anyway?” I asked.

“10,000,000 lir.”

“T-TEN?!” I yelped.

I had no idea it was so luxurious!

“With special tuning and extras, it can easily go over 20,000,000 lir,” Hugo added. He pointed at the inventory where he’d just put the 20,000,000 lir I’d given him, his eyes still insisting that the Magingear’s destruction wasn’t going into the necessary expenses and that he didn’t actually need any more of the bounty.

“Still, it’s quite an expensive piece of equipment,” said Hugo. “Also, that is the original pricing, exclusive to us clan members of the Triangle of Wisdom. On Dryfe’s standard marketplace, their price is twice as great. That number is doubled or tripled yet again when we’re talking about the machines that have gotten leaked to Caldina.” I had no idea whether I should be more surprised by the immense original pricing or by just how much greater it could grow.

“The pricing is the biggest problem with a Marshall II, and humanoid Magingears in general,” he added. “The machines are generally as strong as Demi-Dragons, yet actual tamed Demi-Dragon monsters cost only about 3,000,000. A striking difference.”

So that’s how much Demi-Dragons cost, eh? I thought. Maybe I should buy one along with a carriage? Then again, I have Silver, so maybe I don’t need it.

“Still, Magingears are not without their advantages,” said Hugo. “For example, they don’t use any minion capacity and can be mass-produced as long as there are materials and funds.”

Anything “Demi-Dragon” was considered to be equivalent to a full party of people with low-rank jobs. Being able to create such things was quite a big deal. I could totally see why they were so costly.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Monsters are living creatures, and you sure as hell can’t produce them just by having the materials and money.”

“...True,” he nodded.

“Also, you said something about Caldina selling them, as well. Can you elaborate?”

“Sure,” he said. “Caldina imports and sells special items from all countries, even if they aren’t actually exporting them. Dryfe’s Magingears, Granvaloa’s ships, Altar’s Tomb Labyrinth drops, Tenchi’s weaponry, Huang He’s and Legendaria’s magic items, etc. Caldina’s main selling point is that, as long as you have the money, you can buy goods from every country. Even your social standing is dependent on how much you’re offering.”

“Money is Everything: the Country,” huh? I thought.

“Due to that, many high-end players with fat wallets move over there... which has resulted in them having the most Superiors out of any country,” Hugo muttered, clearly troubled by what he’d just said.

“‘Most,’ as in...?” I prompted.

“Nine Superiors,” he answered. “The strongest force at any country’s disposal.”

“...Damn, that’s a lot.” The Kingdom of Altar had four, and nine was more than double that number. Thinking about that, I added, “Oh yeah, in the war, Dryfe—”

“Overwhelmed Altar, but was soon invaded by Caldina,” he cut me off and explained. “Dryfe’s Superiors had to leave the front lines to defend against those attacks, allowing Altar to prevail.”

And that was why the kingdom had continued to exist even after a war in which none of its Superiors had participated. Sure, Altar didn’t have enough power to retake the land taken by Dryfe, but still.

“Before the war, there was a large feast in Dryfe to celebrate the inevitable victory, yet the result was so inadequate that the one in charge of the country’s domestic affairs — Prime Minister Vigoma — was at his wits’ end,” said Hugo. “Oh, by the way, Dryfe only has enough funds to buy the help of Masters just one more time. Anything beyond that would cause the economy to crash.”

“You sure you can say that to me?” I asked.

“That’s inside info that’s readily available to Masters as lowly as myself. You see it quite often on online message boards, too. Me revealing it to you doesn’t mean much.”

“Oh, I see...”

“Anyway, to win this war, Dryfe has to either occupy the Kingdom of Altar before Caldina intervenes or merge with the country through peaceful methods.”

Well, the latter case isn’t impossible, considering that the kingdom has been weakened and is certainly not in a good shape to participate in a long-lasting war, I thought.

For better or for worse, Caldina had acted as a stopping force to prevent Dryfe from doing whatever they wanted.

...Still, I wasn’t too fond of them, considering their involvement with the Gouz-Maise Gang.

“Oh, by the way,” Hugo spoke up again. “Caldina was also the reason why Legendaria — Altar’s ally — didn’t participate in the war. Being south of Altar, the country is far from Dryfe while being extremely close to Caldina, which covers the entire desert area in the center of the continent. If Legendaria had sent its Superiors or tians with Superior Jobs to help in the war, Caldina would’ve used the opportunity to take it over. The reason why Caldina interfered in the war was to prevent Dryfe from merging with Altar, thereby stopping our country from gaining the momentum it needed to conquer the entire continent. However, Caldina itself is planning the exact same thing.”

So there are two countries vying for world domination? These sure are turbulent times.

“The reason why Caldina only invades countries that show an opening is because it’s in the middle of the continent,” said Hugo.

Basic geopolitics. Besides Granvaloa, which was on the ocean, the countries of the world could be vertically split into three parts, like a French or an Italian flag. To the left were the three western countries: the Dryfe Imperium in the north, the Kingdom of Altar to the south of it, and Legendaria even further down. In the middle, there was the City-State Union of Caldina. And off to the right, there was the Huang He Empire and Tenchi — the island nation that was relatively close to the continent.

The central country, Caldina, shared a border with every nation except the far-east land of Tenchi.

“Dryfe, Altar, and Legendaria to the west and Huang He to the east, not to mention the sea-based nation of Granvaloa,” said Hugo. “It’s surrounded. If Caldina focused on attacking something, the other countries would use the opportunity to take its land. They have plenty reasons to do so, after all.”

“A bit of a deadlock there, huh?” I said. And the only real way for the situation to move out of this stalemate would be the war between Altar and Dryfe.

“...This might be a bit belated, but why are you so casual about looking like that?” I added.

“Like what?” Hugo asked.

“Isn’t that Dryfe’s military uniform or something?” I asked.

Hugo was wearing the exact same clothing as yesterday — the ones that looked like a military uniform mixed with a rider suit.

Considering Hugo’s affiliations, it needn’t be said what military the uniform belonged to. Thus, wearing it in this country didn’t seem like a good idea.

“No, this isn’t Dryfe’s official equipment,” he said. “It’s the suit from GodFrame Grand Marshall.”

“GodFrame Gra... what?”

“GodFrame Grand Marshall.”

Well, if that doesn’t sound like a name for a mecha show...

“When did this anime air?” I asked. Assuming that Hugo was French, it might’ve been a western cartoon...

“It’s not an anime,” he answered. “It’s a manga drawn by a Painter belonging to the Triangle of Wisdom.”

“Drawn... here?”

“In this world, yes.”

Hugo began explaining how the manga had come to be.

After troubles too many to count, the Triangle of Wisdom had finally finished its first battle-ready robot Magingear, the Marshall II. Being a group of people who’d gathered for the very purpose of creating a robot straight out of a mecha anime, they’d gone absolutely nuts about it.

While most had gotten fired up to continue improving their robots, some had become motivated to do other things. One of the clan members had used the skills from his Painter job to draw a cool-looking Marshall II design.

From that, another member began had begun drawing a manga.

Those who couldn’t draw had begun writing novels or creating models, while some had gone as far as composing opening themes and soundtracks.

With the ever-growing number of clan members, this chain reaction had continued until it had become a considerably large production.

The Triangle of Wisdom was pretty much a gathering of mecha anime fans. Having a Marshall II as reference had strengthened their inner fires and urged them to create various creative works. It had gotten to the point where they now dedicated an entire area of their headquarters just for such production. And among the things they produced was the clothing based on the suit of a pilot from the manga — the very same thing Hugo was wearing right now.

“So you’re constantly cosplaying, huh?” I asked.

“It was actually made by a skilled crafter, so the stats are good, too,” he said. “It’s considered to be the uniform of Pilots belonging to the Triangle of Wisdom. Still, that’s not well-known outside of our inner circle, so I can wear it in this country with no problem.”

“The stats are good?” I asked.

“Not nearly as good as those on special rewards, but it’s no doubt among the best things I can wear at my level.”

I could only imagine the amount of passion that had gone into the costume. Nothing could really stop a person when they got absorbed in something they liked.“What about you?” I asked. “Did you join the Triangle of Wisdom because you’re a mecha fan?”“No.” He shook his head. “I joined the clan because I know the leader. In fact, I started Infinite Dendrogram because he invited me.”Well now, doesn’t that sound familiar? I thought. I started in the Kingdom of Altar because my brother told me to.“All right, I have some things I want to know, as well,” said Hugo. “I’m especially curious about the details of the Gouz-Maise fight.”“Sure, I’ll tell you,” I nodded. “After you and Cyco escaped with the children, Nemesis and I...”

#infinite dendrogram #spoilers #slight spoilers #from dendro volume 3

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exactlywhoyouthinkiwas-blog · 6 years

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[2/27/2015 9:48:23 AM] Evan: sup [2/27/2015 11:23:51 AM] YV??~: (So I was not ignoring this i just only ever wake up around 12 and i never change my status because i dont plan when i go to sleep. just felt like i needed to explain i was not ignoring this) [2/27/2015 3:28:38 PM] Evan: I kinda figured. heh [2/27/2015 3:29:23 PM] YV??~: so you wanted something? [2/27/2015 3:30:49 PM] Evan: Haha not particularly. It's going to sound pretty random, but I actually wanted to ask you a question. [2/27/2015 3:31:01 PM] YV??~: Ok [2/27/2015 3:32:21 PM] Evan: Cause I'm curious, and I can't remember if I ever asked. [2/27/2015 3:32:30 PM] Evan: Heh. Sorry if this is too personal, but [2/27/2015 3:32:45 PM] Evan: Why do you consider yourself a terrible person? [2/27/2015 3:42:39 PM] YV??~: Oh. Well you are in luck because i accidentally did a lot of terribly depression introspection earlier this week and have just the answer for that. From what i can put together from my somewhat incoprehansible whining. I've gotten through a lot of my life manipulating people through lying and gaining their pity all for my own gain...and probably will continue to. I tend to not do ANYTHING in every situation that would be optimal for working. I am able to somehow make people angry just by expressing emotion. and even when i find things i could fix i never try to change anything. [2/27/2015 3:42:54 PM] YV??~: just a short list of some of the things [2/27/2015 3:43:57 PM] Evan: I see. [2/27/2015 3:44:13 PM] Evan: It sounds to me like you're a human. [2/27/2015 3:46:21 PM] YV??~: Ehhh. I mean im not gonna tell people what they can think but i dont have to share anyone opinion [2/27/2015 3:47:23 PM] Evan: Haha, fair enough. I'll spare you the optimistic bullshit. [2/27/2015 3:47:28 PM] Evan: Why don't you change anything? [2/27/2015 3:48:51 PM] YV??~: That takes time. and effort im too lazy to put out. Ive tried to fix some things but i forget like a week later and stop trying [2/27/2015 3:49:40 PM] Evan: Do you not actually want to? [2/27/2015 3:52:05 PM] YV??~: Honestly, hell if I care anymore. I'm trash and thats that, Im not really worth the time or effort. [2/27/2015 3:52:29 PM] Evan: Not even your own? [2/27/2015 3:54:23 PM] YV??~: Im not really worth pretty much anything for anyone. Even thinking deeper about myself makes me feel like that was just a waste of time. [2/27/2015 3:54:49 PM] Evan: What do you do, then? [2/27/2015 3:55:50 PM] YV??~: Weh, theres a reason I have so many OCs and roughly 12 titles to my name with 6 running congruently at various stages of development. [2/27/2015 3:56:27 PM] Evan: Why do you make art and tell stories? [2/27/2015 4:01:07 PM] YV??~: I dont really have any other people around, and I dont really move from one spot like 22+ hours of the day so I gotta have somewhere to go, and someone to be. Even before I ended up like i am now barely leaving the house, I didnt have more than like 1 friend ever so those were my friends. I ended up picking up drawing from my sister seeing her do it because i thought itd be a good way to be able to really see these characters [2/27/2015 4:03:03 PM] Evan: Why do you animate them? [2/27/2015 4:06:56 PM] YV??~: Ive always been able to make up stories but when i create them i dont think of it as words, as a story would be if i wrote it down, I actually see the story's progression moving. When I create a story and characters I see them move and create the story themselves with small things i put in, and I hear them actually say what they have to say. out of all mediums of visual story-telling, animation is the closest to the original "being" of the story. [2/27/2015 4:07:38 PM] Evan: Why do you share them? [2/27/2015 4:10:20 PM] YV??~: I do that with pretty much any work i finish. Like "here i made this, heres proof it exists." Basically so i have something to show for myself, that i do have the ability to make things. [2/27/2015 4:12:29 PM] Evan: Does it make you proud? [2/27/2015 4:15:32 PM] YV??~: euuhhh...Proud? No. Satisfied with actually being able to have a finished product of some kind, even if its less than the original plan, is a little more like it. Even if I hate it later because there are things that could have been done better if given the time, its still better than nothing. And even then usually the ones i hate the most give other people the most enjoyment. [2/27/2015 4:17:22 PM] Evan: Do you make things that you hate? [2/27/2015 4:20:59 PM] YV??~: Oh yeah. Serious things that just went wrong early on and i was unable to fix, and joke things that ive put too much effort into that got too big compared to real work. I usually dont hate projects though. Even when I feel like theyre going no where and i retire the idea completely i dont usually hate those. Mostly art and animations, actual stories are different. [2/27/2015 4:28:05 PM] Evan: Does art make you happy? [2/27/2015 4:32:56 PM] YV??~: Not usually while im in the process of making it, im mostly just mind set on what it SHOULD look like. But stepping back to look at everything come together and finally become something finished usually is satisfying at the least. Some i never look at after that final moment of its creation, but some im really happy with the way it came out and end up looking at it over and over. So I suppose once the peice is made it does, in a way. [2/27/2015 4:34:34 PM] Evan: Are you proud when your art makes others happy? [2/27/2015 4:36:44 PM] YV??~: Well, i mean, i guess its nice when other people can find enjoyment out of something ive done. [2/27/2015 4:37:13 PM] Evan: Do you like making people happy? [2/27/2015 4:39:21 PM] YV??~: depends, usually i try not to sacrifice too much for other people, but sometimes i can be generous with somethings. really it depends on how I feel pretty much. [2/27/2015 4:41:55 PM] Evan: What makes you happy? [2/27/2015 4:47:07 PM] YV??~: I dont know, I tend to spend most of the day in a neutral 'emotionless' state, and most of the time any emotions I do have are very miniscule that I dont usually remember them. Though I enjoy being in the presence of other people, even without participating, people tend to ignore me 90% of the time. Thats a question that im not sure has a real answer [2/27/2015 4:50:26 PM] Evan: Do you have a dream? [2/27/2015 4:53:07 PM] YV??~: I try not to make solid plans more than 3 years in advance, so im not really sure. There's not a whole lot, at this point, that I could really accomplish by 2018, who can even say I'll still be alive by then. [2/27/2015 4:54:04 PM] Evan: But is there something you would want to do? [2/27/2015 4:58:05 PM] YV??~: Usually I just put goals on my characters, and I just exist to help them get there. I dont really see it so much as my life and things I want to do. Really the only thing id regret in dying is not that im stuck nowhere and im not going anywhere, but my characters not fufilling their roles and reaching THEIR closure. [2/27/2015 4:59:23 PM] Evan: Is there anything else that you do? [2/27/2015 5:02:50 PM] YV??~: All of my hobbies relate with art and story-telling in someway. Voice acting, singing, creating costumes and clothing. pretty much all of it is art and in some way has a story behind it. [2/27/2015 5:06:28 PM] Evan: What do you want to be better at? [2/27/2015 5:09:51 PM] YV??~: wehh..I dont know, theres a lot of things i could be better at and somethings i should be, but...im not really sure. [2/27/2015 5:22:15 PM] Evan: What do you think you're best at? [2/27/2015 5:28:41 PM] YV??~: Ive practiced various methods of drawing for years but, even though i just picked up sewing as a craft 3 years ago im better at that than i was with drawing early on. Everything else has taken since around middle school to get to a good level where i can still do it comparatively quickly, where sewing only took a year to get to that point. Overall for me it went from a beginner level to at least moderately experienced much faster than everything else. [2/27/2015 5:38:07 PM] Evan: What's your favorite thing to do? [2/27/2015 5:41:19 PM] YV??~: I dont know. Usually if im bored, and not too fed up with holding a pencil, i end up idly drawing....Its really like the only thing I do. [2/27/2015 5:50:40 PM] Evan: What inspires you? [2/27/2015 5:53:13 PM] YV??~: Usually things just pop into mind on their own. Sometimes they happen while im listening to, or watching something. [2/27/2015 5:53:40 PM] Evan: What sorts of things do you watch and listen to? [2/27/2015 5:57:06 PM] YV??~: Usually I put on miscellaneous gameplay footage or lets plays, and i pretty much switch between that and music. [2/27/2015 5:57:49 PM] Evan: What kind of music? [2/27/2015 6:00:23 PM] YV??~: It usually depends what i feel like. somedays its lighter faster stuff, somedays its heavier stuff. Somedays a combination of both, sometimes i just let my music shuffle and play in whatever order. [2/27/2015 6:02:12 PM] Evan: Is music important to you? [2/27/2015 6:05:52 PM] YV??~: I guess....I mean some ideas wouldnt have happened without certain songs, and some projects probably wouldnt exist. [2/27/2015 6:07:53 PM] Evan: What's your favorite project? [2/27/2015 6:10:21 PM] YV??~: Honestly, there isnt a lot of public information on Mahito but ive been working with it for 2 years, and it was actually the first thing I envisioned myself actually animating. [2/27/2015 6:11:00 PM] Evan: What's Mahito? [2/27/2015 6:22:17 PM] YV??~: Its something I came up with one day, I guess the best way to describe its themes in short would be Madoka-esque even though i came up with the basics including designs before i even watched it. I guess one could say its very "magical girl" though it is not a straight female cast. It follows a team of 6 highschool students, their leader being a socially withdrawn, sucidal girl whos only real support are her brother and his best friend. These 6 people are given powers and forced into a battle thats been going on for centuries, for supremacy within a group of supernatural beings known to the humans involved as "gods." Many of these gods have no regard for the people they force to fight so long as they are able to take surpremacy in someway, since they are unable to kill each other or be killed. The team has to fight both other human fighters and "monsters", that are the remains of humans who tried to rebel against their "god", which live beyond a barrier and can threaten to destroy inncent human life. At first they look at it as their chance to help people, but eventually their powers become a burden. [2/27/2015 6:24:26 PM] Evan: That sounds really interesting. How much have you done with it? [2/27/2015 6:29:45 PM] YV??~: So far I have designs and short biographies for the main cast. As well as designs for a few of the mosters they will face, and bios for a few minor characters that still have some influence on a part of the plot. A lot of what i have written besides characters is mostly world building, information on the roles and powers each member of a 6 man team can have. Descriptions of the basic behaviors of monsters on different intelligence levels. I plan to have all the designs done at the end of this year, and the timeline for the plot fully written in detail at the end of 2016. [2/27/2015 6:33:31 PM] Evan: Cool. O: I assume it's also going to be an animation? When do you think you'll start making it? [2/27/2015 6:38:45 PM] YV??~: Ive been saying since around last year or so itll come out in 2018. It was the first thing I considered animating seriously, things before that where like that would be cool, or this scene could be animated. But this, i decided, this was going to be fully animated, i tried to start it out in a static format just to get things laid out to be adapted into an animation, but it never worked. While 2018 may be a little too ambitious, this is going to be nothing but animated [2/27/2015 6:44:46 PM] Evan: I see. [2/27/2015 6:46:57 PM] YV??~: yeh

#said evan to vriska

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