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icey--stars · 8 months

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Born For Tragedy: Part 20

Series Index

She was tragedy. Nothing except death, fear and pain followed in her wake. When she was young, she was beaten. Now she’s the one doing the beating as an assassin. A mysterious stranger comes to her, paying an absurd amount of money for her to kill Beron Vanserra, and protect the eldest son until the job is done. She stumbles across a story much similar to her own, and knows what must be done.

a/n: this is mostly just an epilogue (and… well… calanmai again)! thank you all for reading and to those that have followed this story since the beginning (or really, just kept reading this story as it was written…) i love you <3 there might be bonus parts in the future, but not any time soon, but keep an eye out for them!

i probably won’t post any new stories any time soon and take some time for myself as life is getting hectic, but requests are still open! they just may be slow!

WARNINGS: SMUT AHEAD! (PRIMAL PLAY, overstim) MINORS DNI 18+ apologies if the primal play is odd- it’s my first time writing it. also, not proofread, so i apologize for any mistakes <3

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Strangely, life for Valda stayed about the same after that. Eris and her were… tentatively happy. The other High Lords beside an asshole named Rhysand were a lot more pleasant to deal with. However, Kallias seemed extremely unsettled by the fact that it was an assassin helping to rule one of two neighboring courts to Winter.

Valda decided to let the title of High Lady sit for a while longer, however, and instead took up the position of spymaster, both to taunt the Night Court and to get her used to a leadership position. Surprisingly, she was actually really good at what she was doing with the spies, despite it being mostly within the court, and occasionally sending someone to another court to check on some rumor. Even training! But honestly, she should’ve expected that being a spy was basically the exact same as being an assassin besides the planned, paid killing.

Eris seemed incredibly proud as she slowly took on more roles and let her help him with some of the work he was doing for the court. Most of it was boring, however, and either writing letters or making decisions. The fun stuff was when you actually met with someone on the matter. Recently, it’d been lords coming to complain and she’d gotten to snark back like in the Night Court. Not her favorite line of work, but good enough.

Throughout the rest of “summer,” they focused on the Autumn Court and less on other-court relations. Very simple. However, come autumn, it was time to start with trade deals and sadly, invite people to the court for holidays and dinners and balls. The Night Court was not invited, however. Eris had decided that they’d let that one sit for a while before attempting to soothe some sort of relationship between the two courts. The Spring Court was also ignored mostly, seeing as Tamlin denied their invitation to a short dinner. Valda hadn’t been surprised.

She found the autumn holidays much more to her liking however. Harvest and the Autumn Equinox and all the hunting competitions- it was great fun. And there was food. Oh great Mother, so much fresh, delicious corn and bread. Oh, the bread was one of her favorites, especially when paired with some butter and cheese.

Through winter, they relaxed and managed the court through some hardships like a food delivery problem to some of the poorer individuals of the court. Of course, everyone was angry at Eris, as there was so much change and fae always were difficult with change. But, with some light discipline they were set on track.

However, spring came much too fast for Valda’s liking. Calanmai, and the anniversary of Beron’s death and Eris’s rise to power drew near. She was a bit… nervous to say the least.

There were rumors spreading through the Forest House and the entire court. The Maiden.

Her.

Secondly, Eris was acting weird. He seemed apprehensive about something and there were little spikes of happy nervousness when she came into a room or when they cuddled or even when they were having dinner.

She planned to talk to him about it tonight when he got back from training the pups. Well, they weren’t exactly puppies anymore and had grown considerably (Tempus was her favorite because she was the best cuddler out of the three) and were training for tracking and this week they were going to start some basic hunting commands.

But aside from the pups and Eris’s oddness, she was still anxious about Calanmai. Not for the anniversaries or anything, but purely because she didn’t know her job for it. Was she meant to turn into a whimpering mess for her mate in the middle of the forest? Honestly, they need to put some instructions out.

“Eris?” Valda asked one night. She knew Eris was exhausted due to all the work he’d been doing today, but she needed to know with Calanmai only two weeks away.

“Yes?” He asked, his face stuffed into her chest.

“What’s going to happen on Calanmai?” She asked.

Eris didn’t reply for a few long moments but eventually responded. “Nobody is going to force you to be the Maiden if you don’t want to. The Spring Court is the main one where they have to have one.”

“But won’t you…” She hesitated.

“It’ll be fine,” he dismissed. “I’m sure it's not that bad.”

That seems very wrong, considering her memories from the last Calanmai. “But won’t the court want to see proof that we actually are mates?” Valda argued.

“Probably,” Eris admitted, lifting his head now to meet her eyes. “But I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, even if it does leave me insane for a night or two.”

Valda winced at the thought. She didn’t want Eris to suffer.

“I just don’t know what to do for it,” She admitted quietly, glancing down and away from Eris’s gaze. “I know it's a sex ritual and all that you told me before but… it’s different being the Maiden, I’m sure.”

Eris hummed in agreement. “Well, from what I remember, the Maiden is obviously dressed down and when time hits, which is when the High Lord declares an official start to Calanmai, the Maiden begins running into the forest. The High Lord is forced to wait, normally getting quite unhinged before the people holding him free him. Then I suppose, it’s a chase.”

Valda hummed. “No winnowing?” She guessed.

“No winnowing, but I doubt anyone would even know. It’d only make the chase more interesting.”

“Oh?” Valda questioned with a little smirk. “And do you like interesting, my lord?”

Eris smirked. “Only if you do, my mate.”

Valda chuckled, shoving his shoulder as he leaned in to try and kiss her cheek. “Stop it,” she chastised.

Eris only got more insistent until he simply dropped dead on her and finally made her arm collapse at the elbow so he could plant his lips across hers with a happy hum.

Valda rolled her eyes, but made sure to participate in the kiss. She turned her head to force Eris away when he tried to nip at her lip. “Uh uh,” she said, tapping his lips. “You need rest , mister. As do I.”

“You wound me,” he said, tightening his grip on her body momentarily. “But really, nobody will force you to be the Maiden, no matter what. I will incinerate them.”

Valda smiled. “I know,” she whispered, pecking his forehead gently as he laid his head back down on her chest. “I’m just nervous.”

“Because you don’t know what to do or some other reason?” Eris asked.

“Well, I know mostly what to do now, don’t I?”

“So what else?” Eris asked, snuggling closer.

“As you might know, I have very limited experience with being submissive, and with the… primal part of it, I’m not sure.”

Eris hummed in acknowledgement, staying silent for a few moments before replying to her. “It’s supposed to be natural. You follow your instincts, that’s all. And honestly, if you want to chase me, I’m not arguing.”

“The court will,” Valda pointed out.

“Fuck them,” Eris said, chuckling. “If my mate wants to fuck me, I am not saying no.”

Valda rolled her eyes, but felt a bolt of heat settle in her abdomen at the words. “I’d like to do it the way that it was intended, Eris. I’m not breaking any traditions yet.”

“So you’re doing it?” Eris suddenly asked.

Valda hummed before sighing. “Yes.”

Eris chuckled. “I’m going to love you so good then,” he said.

Valda smiled at her mate’s words. “You already do,” she pointed out.

Eris remained silent for a few moments. Then, out of the blue: “I’m going to hunt you down and make sure you know you’re mine. I’m going to chase you through that forest because I need you so badly. Because you are my mate. My prey. You’ll try and run away but I’ll catch you and pin you down and then show you just how much I fucking know and own your body.”

Every word sent a rush of heat down Valda’s spine. Holy fuck. Why did that arouse her so much? Honestly. The idea of Eris chasing her alone was enough to make her knees wobble.

Eris had a shit-eating grin on his face when he looked up at Valda. She had a slightly open mouth like she was already panting from running.

“I knew you’d like that,” he whispered. “You like being my prey?”

Valda was speechless. Absolutely flabbergasted by this side of her mate. But she loved it.

Eris supported himself on his forearms, lifting his head to look into her eyes. “Yeah, you do, don’t you? You want to be chased and pinned down just like any prey out here. Except you want your hunter to catch you, don’t you? You want to be pinned down and taken right on the forest floor.”

Valda couldn’t fucking breathe. Why did she never let Eris be dominant before? It was so hot. So hot she could barely breathe and make coherent thoughts.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what you want,” Eris said, smirking above me. He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips before laying back down. “Rest, my prey. When Calanmai comes, I will give you exactly what you want.”

——

Valda was buzzing with energy. She stood underneath a tree wearing a lot less than she usually preferred (in fact, she was wearing a skirt; how terrifying). She wore a black bra that had lace that went down to her belly button with that knee-length black skirt. That still didn’t stop her from being armed, but as she saw Eris slide his shirt off and head to the raised podium nearby, her breath was stolen.

Cauldron, he’d been relentless in his teasing. At every opportunity, he called her “my prey” or “little deer” or something like that and it just set alight a flame between her thighs.

“Welcome, once again, to Calanmai,” Eris said loudly, catching everyone’s attention. “Fire Night at its finest. Let the flames be set alight!”

All around her, fires were sparked and lit up the area around them. There would be no faelights– only the true source of light in this world: fire.

Two of Eris’s brothers, Hue and Kuhn, came up to the podium then and put an arm around each of the High Lord’s to restrain him. The moon rose higher into the sky and Valda felt the magic hum in the air. Tonight was the one night of the year that fae from all Courts could cross borders without consequence. She already saw some people that stood out from the rest.

Valda began to pant in anticipation. Soon, they would release the “Maiden” and then soon thereafter, the hunt and eventual capture would begin. It was overwhelming in the best of ways.

She didn’t bother to look at who, but someone finally yelled “Release the Maiden!”

Valda didn’t waste a beat and began sprinting into the forest. The skirt certainly wasn’t the best to wear for this, but Eris had managed to convince her since it gave him more “access.”

She leapt over a log with ease, however, and continued bolting. She had a plan to make this chase last as long as possible. It’d only make the inevitable catch more exciting. Valda turned toward the Spring Court border, not planning on passing over it, but simply planning to mix her scent up and then winnow once her mate was released.

Too soon, she felt the excitement and energy on her mate’s side of the bond skyrocket. The High Lord had been released and the court awaited the inevitable capture to celebrate Fire Night. Valda didn’t waste a beat in winnowing to the edge of the camp and began running in the opposite direction she’d taken off in at first.

Eris would know she’d winnowed since she couldn’t mix her scent with the Spring Court’s flowers, but he’d still need time to track her. Even if the mate bond they shared was almost like a living beacon. Eris’s emotions were getting slightly weaker as he moved farther away.

Valda began running north blindly now, hopping over logs and circling around trees (even climbing some briefly) before continuing her sprint. By now, she was panting heavily. But her body felt alight with anticipation. She could feel Eris getting closer again. He was coming for her. And she was his little deer.

She ran now, not bothering to disturb her trail anymore as she fell into a blind, instinctual run. Like she really was the prey, falling to her instincts of fear. But it wasn’t fear driving her but lust. Oh, she could feel him near and she needed him. But he had to catch her first.

Eris had been adamant on telling her that he’d capture her on his own two feet. Not shifting into the maddening, terrifying creature of the High Lord or even winnowing. Eris was determined, and she could feel it.

Valda kept running, skirting around a pond that reflected the moon’s light. But then a shadow leaped for her from above and she screeched in surprise.

She was pinned on her stomach, arms behind her back as something panted into her ear.

“Got you, my little deer,” Eris whispered into her ear.

Valda moaned openly, closing her eyes.

“You tried to trick me, didn’t you?” He continued. “You tried to throw me off but it never worked because you’re mine.”

She could suddenly feel her clothing being ripped off however possible. Valda was bare under her mate and she couldn’t be happier.

Eris reached down between her legs and swiped through the wetness gathering there. “Oh, wet aren’t you, little deer? Do I need to clean this up before I take what’s mine?”

Valda could barely think. She hasn’t felt this turned on in centuries.

“Come on, tell your hunter. Perhaps I’ll be kind enough to give you some mercy.”

“Please,” Valda got out. “Please. Clean- clean it up.”

She knew Eris was smirking from where he was. In seconds, she was twisted around and shoved up against a tree where Eris lifted both her thighs onto his shoulders and began to lick her cunt like a male starved. Valda could not control her noises. Nor could she stop herself from barrelling into release only a minute later.

Eris only continued, however, and forced her body into an overwhelming overstimulation. Her mind was fuzz and her body couldn’t decide whether it wanted more or wanted Eris away from licking her clit.

When Eris finally did pull away, it was when she was steadily building toward a second orgasm. His face was a mess but he looked so dirty and it turned her on even more. Was that even possible at this point? Apparently.

“My poor prey,” Eris purred, leaning up to press lips to hers. “So helpless.”

Valda whimpered, closing her eyes. “Please,” she begged, arching her back under Eris.

“Please, what?” Eris growled, grabbing her chin to force her to meet his eyes.

“I need- I need you inside,” she begged.

Her mate smirked and then tore his pants and thrust inside of her hard.

It was fucking perfect. Everything was so much but it was so perfect. Valda couldn’t even begin to make words, but she distantly felt her orgasm building more and more.

Then it snapped and pleasure tore through her as she screamed, shouting Eris’s name as he only seemed to continue thrusting inside of her with more vigor.

“You’re going to stay there like a good girl until I’m done,” Eris growled.

Valda’s eyes rolled back into her skull as she gave herself over fully to Eris and the pleasure.

It felt like centuries passed when Eris finally growled into her ear and came inside of her. She quickly followed him over the edge at the heat flooding her belly, moaning obscenely. The heat wasn’t the only thing however- there was magic completely filling the air. The magic was thick and she knew that it would be felt across the Autumn Court, signaling the Maiden had been caught and that the celebration could properly begin.

When she came to, she was sore as fuck and Eris was gently sliding out, kissing her cheeks gently.

“Fuck,” she groaned, feeling a root digging into her back. She still felt aroused, despite being so sore. It must’ve been the magic, but she was going to need a little break after that.

“You alright, my love?” Eris asked, gently helping her sit up.

Valda leaned onto his shoulder as he moved beside her. “Mostly,” she chuckled. “I’m sore as fuck. Who knew that fucking on the floor of a forest was so bad for your back?”

Eris laughed. “It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.” A warm hand slid down her back to where the root had been digging in, and gently massaged the area. She sighed in relief at the immediate relaxation and pain relief.

“Want to go back to the Forest House?” Eris asked. “We can take a warm bath.”

Valda groaned. “That sounds extremely appealing right now.”

Eris smiled and suddenly, they were in the bathroom. Eris held her up when she stumbled at the suddenness of standing. “I’ve got you,” he promised.

Valda nodded, closing her eyes as Eris leaned down to put an arm under her knees and lift her up to his chest. She heard the unmistakable sound of water pouring from a faucet right after. Eris probably used his magic. He walked to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, kissing her forehead.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated.

She hummed, smiling. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing his cheek softly.

He seemed to beam at that little movement. “I love you too,” he replied. “Mate.”

“Mate,” Valda agreed. “My mate.”

Eris chuckled. “Come on, let’s clean up,” he said, standing and turning to gently set her down into a tub of warm water while he stepped in himself to settle behind her, hugging her from behind.

Eris began to gently clean them both up, rubbing shampoo and conditioner into her hair and washing her body from any dirt stains. He also used that time to use his heavenly fire magic to massage the sore parts of her body. (well, besides one.)

“You’re too good to me,” Valda whispered as he helped her rinse her hair.

“I’m giving you exactly what you deserve, Val. Love and care.”

Valda chuckled. “Funny, I probably wouldn’t have ever imagined myself like this when I first came to the Forest House.”

“Ah, yes. Adira Void. The spunky servant who didn’t bow her head.”

“Now Valda Callahan- hopefully one day, Vanserra. Mate to the High Lord of Autumn.”

Eris chuckled. “I will keep that hopefully in mind, my love.”

Valda grinned. “I know you will.”

“I would do it right now, but I lack the proper materials and the ability to kneel before you,” Eris chuckled.

“I’ll be expecting it then,” she chuckled.

“You won’t expect the timing at all,” Eris replied ominously.

——

Eris was kneeling. Kneeling. The sun was going down, turning a bright orange and beautiful red. Nearby, Lady Merle was gasping while Hue and Kuhn looked at each other in combined surprise.

“Valda Callahan,” Eris began, reaching back to his pocket as he stared up at her. A ring box came up in his palm and he opened it gracefully. “Would you do me the honor of marrying me? Of becoming my High Lady? For the rest of eternity?”

Valda couldn’t contain her smile as she looked down at the ring. It was perfect. Rose gold colored leaves went around each other and then held a beautiful circular bright forest-green jewel– an emerald, if she had to guess.

“Of course,” she answered. “Of course, my love. I would spend all of eternity with you regardless.”

Eris smiled and plucked the ring from the box and Valda offered out her left hand.

Eris carefully slid the ring onto her finger, kissing it and then standing up to kiss her lips properly.

He even dipped her and Valda laughed as they broke apart. “You are so dramatic,” she teased, lifting her hand to examine the jewel. “Emerald, right?”

“Emerald,” he confirmed. “Its meaning is much more appealing than a diamond.”

“What is the meaning?” She asked, ignoring the others around them for the time being.

“Eternal love, peace, hope and new beginnings. I thought it fit well with our pasts.”

Valda grinned. “You’re too perfect.”

Lady Merle’s happy squeal interrupted them as she rushed over. “Eris! I wasn’t expecting this! Why didn’t you tell me?! I could’ve helped-”

“Mother, mother, I was planning on telling you. Right now.”

Merle groaned as she turned toward me. “Welcome to the family, daughter. Eris chose well, with you. You will make a powerful leader and partner for him.”

Valda smiled. “Thank you, Merle,” she replied.

Hue came over and clapped Eris on the shoulder. “You know, I don’t think you’ll be half bad as a sister. As long as I don’t get on your bad side, I’ll stay alive.”

Valda scoffed. “The only family I might kill is my old one.”

Eris smiled and pulled her into his side. “Let me join you,” he said. “Your brother in particular.”

“What did your brother do?” Merle questioned.

“Uhm…” Valda hesitated. “My late father, brother and mother might’ve hit me a lot before I left Hewn City?”

Rage filled Merle’s gaze. “Eris, you’re sending a letter to Rhysand for me,” she said sternly. “Setting up a meeting between my new daughter’s old family and me. Just me.”

Eris swallowed nervously. “Something tells me I don’t want to make that meeting.”

“I’m coming,” Valda volunteered. “It can be a girls’ night,” she said, grinning at Merle.

Merle grinned back evilly. “Girls’ night. Yes, I think that’s a good idea.”

“Alright murderous people,” Kuhn said, placating from beside his mother, “relax. We’ve got a wedding to plan first. And a High Lady ceremony.”

“Yes, indeed we do,” Eris said, smiling and sending warmth down the bond.

Valda scoffed. “Fine. Murder after,” she offered.

Everyone laughed and Valda felt joy unlike any other filling her chest.

This was her family now. Her mate. Her life. Her court. She was at home. And always would be. She was no longer that tragedy of before with her Masters’ words bearing down on her and her brother’s words echoing in her ears. She was no longer born for tragedy. No longer an assassin. But a part of a family.

For the first time in a while, she thought the words “How beautiful” without being sarcastic.

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TAGLIST (see post for getting added)

@bunnymallowo, @officiallyunofficialperson, @margssstuff, @rebloggiest-reblogger, @inpraizeof, @graciereads, @eos-princess, @imma-too-many-fandoms, @mali22, @sassybluebird, @bubybubsters,

#eris x oc #eris vanserra #eris acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #original character #oc #mywriting #acotar smut #smut

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yanderestuff · 6 months

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Yanderes as Horror movie characters

Jason Voorhees -

¤ AJ was hurt as a kid due to a teenager and AJ really wants to protect kids. AJ loves the forest and is a terribly swimmer. AJ also isn't the most attractive. ¤

AJ had spotted you from the woods, AJ knew you weren't like the average sex driven counselor, you actually payed attention and took care of the kids.

It started as curiosity but AJ feel for you. When AJ saw another counselor flirt with you, AJ disliked that very much.

AJ killed the counselor who flirted with you and dumped their body in the lake. AJ then snuck to your cabin and kidnapped you. AJ convinced themself that you were in dangered and AJ was just saving you.

"O-oh! A- Don't cry! Oh no... um... No no no! I'm not gonna hurt you! I would never hurt you."

Freddy Krueger -

▪︎ Kuro loves night time. Being in control is something he loves. Having full control brings him so much joy. ▪︎

He hopped into your dream, believing it was just another kill, when he finally found you, he was fascinated. He didn't know why but he was, he decided to keep a eye on you.

Kuro would make sure you had some of the best dreams. He loves seeing you smile, it makes him smile, he slowly starts talking to you in the dreams. When you wake up you found it weird how much you remembered and how real it felt.

As days pass you feel more and more tired and the more you sleep the more tired you feel. Kuro was trying to drag you back to him. Eventually you would be in a coma forever. He would finally have you.

"Oh? Well your so silly, of course this is real what kind of a question is that?"

Micheal Myers -

○ Samira has been killing sense she was little. She has been on the wrong side of the law sense she was born. ○

While hiding from the police she gets bored. Samira was looking for a victim when she find you. She decides to play with her food for once.

At first you were very scared as you kept seeing the notorious killer around, you figures it was just some asshole messing with you. But eventually the killer started get closer and you only saw her out of the corner of your eye till it was to late.

"You know what... I might just have to keep you."

Ghost face -

♡ Ava started by killing random people. It was a random feeling to just do so. Then Ava saw you, she knew you were ment to be, so instead of killing random people, she decided to kill those close to you then comfort you make you feel reliant on her. ♡

She had killed a football player from school, she walked down the street and saw you walking home alone. Ava knew these streets were dangerous, she was the danger, so she decided to follow you, to protect you.

Ava decided that you were perfect and she needed you so suddenly all of the ghost face murders became directed around you, that guy who accidentally bumped into you, dead, the girl who asked for a pencil, dead, over and over again no matter how little contact you had with them everyone you even slight interacted with was dead, it seemed like half the school was dead.

"Shhh I'm not gonna hurt you. I'm just protecting you."

The Blair witch -

♧ Samantha's a witch, born and raised. So she obviously is a witch. ♧

You were walking though the woods, you and your friends were planing on camping. Little did you remember, the witch lives in the woods.

You all got lost and then got split up while running from noises. You have no clue wear you are. But she does...

"Don't worry I know where you are."

Samara Morgan -

◇ Dina's will to give you time, just not a lot. She also loves the wishing well out side of her house in the garden. ◇

She saw open the file, instead of killing you she chose to kill your friends. 5 days she warned. You didn't listen.

After the 5 days were up, she killed your friends and brought you in with her.

"Don't worry we're together now, I finally have what I want."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yan #yan fem #fem yandere #my oc aj #my oc dina #my oc kuro #my oc samantha #my oc #my oc Ava #halloween

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apollos-boyfriend · 9 months

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hey icarus can you tell me more about cpurpled. can you tell me your favorite hcs and what do you think being a part of las nevadas was like for him and rb your favorite purpled fanarts. smiles /gen /nf /i hope the people annoying you explode

WELL since u asked i have no other option do i ^_^

i've been thinking a lot about this recently bc in the past i've said that i think he + the tiredtwt crew are from hypixel itself, with hypixel being like an alien planet to fit with him being an alien, but the more i think about it the less sense it makes. for me, hypixel is more like one of those fun centers that offers a Bunch of different activities. like i have one in my hometown that has a bowling alley + arcade + escape rooms + go karting + jungle gyms + a bunch of other shit. that's hypixel to me, but on a Much Bigger scale. having anyone Originate from it is a bit silly when you think about it as one of those. it makes even less sense when you consider that like, canonically, cboomer is from a Completely Different Dimension. so what i've decided is that yes, he Is from an alien planet, but not someplace that connects to a real-life server, yknow? it also gives me more flexibility to worldbuild his planet's culture and stuff since i don't have to be tied down to hypixel customs.

a slight tiredtwt-related detour BUT it is important to me to lay this out. purpled and astelic are from the same planet but didn't meet until hypixel. hannah and boomer are from the same dimension which is somewhat akin to the feywilds from dnd. originally all of them just came to hypixel to play together and would have to eventually split to return to their own servers/origins until they were like "what if we just had our own server so we didn't have to keep splitting up every night" and thus tiredsmp was born. a lot of them still lived with their parents at that point so it was also a nice opportunity for them to gain more independence and be able to venture out on their own journeys.

for las nevadas..... that is a whole Rant on its own for me to fully go into it so i will save all of it for another night as i have things to do. however. i think, to him, it was a very mechanical process. wake up, keep up the facade, scheme in the shadows, go to bed, repeat. i don't think he really thought about much other than the Necessities, ie mostly revenge. it is always really difficult for me to talk about cpurpled because the way he approaches things is very... uninteresting? he does what he needs to do, or at least what he feels like he needs to do. there's not a lot of personal feelings or retrospection when it comes to him. so talking about how HE felt in those moments is difficult because what he felt was often nothing really, outside of spite, greed, and a need to win. don't get me wrong! i think las nevadas was a super isolating and horrible era filled with nothing but self-sabotage and an unreachable goal he never even wanted in the first place. but i don't think HE realized that, you know? i don't think a lot of people realize that the persona he puts forth Is a sort of mask, yes, but not in the way they think. there are some things he's aware of doing, like pretending to be nice to the las nevadas residents to earn their trust, but a lot of it Is who he honestly thinks he is. i see a lot of people write him as putting on this mask of a brave, uncaring mercenary to hide how scared he is of all the shit going on around him and no!! he IS just an apathetic asshole!! the mask at play is how he earnestly believes the way for him to make a legacy is to have power, and that power is what he craves, when it's obvious all he wants is for people to Know him. he wants bonds!! the people who do pick up on this also tend to take it a different route of him actually being soft underneath the tough exterior, but that's also not it!! he wants to build relationships and a legacy, but wanting that doesn't and shouldn't erase the fact that he's super apathetic and materialistic and an asshole. bc that's just how he is!!! both can coexist!!!! and they do!!!!

#muse talk #superkitten-poison #icarus hcs #me: oh i can't say much bc i have things to do still #also me: that.#i just. it is so hard to get all my thoughts out #bc the last thing i want is to be misconstrued. he can want to be known by others while being an asshole #he doesn't have to secretly be soft or scared. he just wants someone to know him

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nandosniguez · 4 years

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*me reading another stupid comment/tweet about saúl*

#guys i can take it anymore #i’m close to deleting everything i ever said or posted online because these stupid people are just too much #can’t believe how stupid some people can be #i‘m too angry and sad i‘m not even able to insult those idiots anymore 😭😭😭#please unfollow right now if you ever only considered tweeting pictures of steak @ him :)))))#it wasn’t funny when it began and it’s still not funny #do those people wake up and decide to be assholes or were they born that way?#just wondering 🙂#why are people like this #in germany we ask them wer ihnen eigentlich ins hirn geschissen hat and i think that’s beautiful #idk where who i got the picture from but at this moment i really don’t care #atlético madrid #kokito #saúl

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padawansuggest · 2 years

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Also I made a connection the other day: we were told that the Mandalorian would be the darkest most gritty SW yet and it truly was not. We were then told ‘lol okay jk Book of Boba Fett will be’ and it. Is. Not.

I think they really darkbaited fanboys and said ‘lol fuck them bitches’ and literally gave us the story of the coming of the Next Great Mand’alor that will unite Mandalorians, and then they ALSO said ‘here’s what you do when local cocaine traffickers decide to use native land to move product bringing destruction and chaos in their wake you straight up kill them’ while simultaneously giving Boba Fett, THE first ever notorious Mandalorian bounty hunter in all of SW history, and arguably one of the characters with the most intense backstory, a home and family and deciding that working for the people is better than working for assholes with deep pockets. Fuck them bitches and fuck those who hurt the young.

They literally gave us a Mand’alor who deserves the title through both MORALS (he has very intense morals!!! The last amazing Mand’alor also had very intense morals!!!) and a love of children born in a cult and living underground in fear most of his life, who’s about to unite Mandalorian people because children are the future AND he believes that the Jedi are good, we’re finally gonna get Mandalorian Jedi solidarity like the darksaber ruler was meant for.

And then with Boba Fett, you take a man who’s done horrible things for the sake of survival and fear and heartbreak, a man who’s life was about getting credits and staying alive, and you get an arc where he also, decides, that the people and the children they hurt, are so much more important than the ones who used to pay him and wouldn’t bat an eye if he got killed.

Boba Fett has already shown himself to be polite, not wanting to rule by fear, ready to protect others and hire college age kids who can only get by by stealing. The rancor???? Jabba used his rancor to terrorize others, to kill for amusement, to create fear. Boba wants to give his boy a scratch on that good spot and learn to ride him. The kids? Jabba would have ordered them killed for stealing. Garsa Fwip? When he first came in her club as the new crime lord of the area, she was terrified, expecting him to demand payment and terrorize her people. It took less than three episodes for her to share an eye roll with him and shrug when he gave her encouraging words that she did her best. She’s not scared of him. The first thing she did was bribe him preemptively, but she’s not scared of him, and it’s not because she knows she already gave him the credits.

Din and Boba were supposed to be gritty characters. And that’s exactly what they are. They are buckling down and realizing that caring for others isn’t just taking bounties and collecting credits for those they consider family. They are realizing that governments can be restructured for the sake of the many, that they can make a change to the rules that exist only to hurt.

Din was excommunicated by someone who RAISED him, for taking off his helmet. That’s all he had to do to lose the last of his remaining family. Boba was stripped of his armor and dragged half alive to be a slave for others until he proved his worth to them.

It’s not easy. People who think they got baited into thinking this would be badass, aren’t actually here for the true grit that comes with creating change for the many to keep communities functioning. They just wanted bounty hunter violence and badass fighting moves.

Greef Carga went from threatening a man and child, to turning his bar into a school.

That’s the true grit that no one wants to fucking look at when it comes to the darker moments of Star Wars storylines.

#star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #boba fett #book of boba fett #bobf spoilers #i edited a few words about the rancor cause I made it sound like Jabba and boba had the same one

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ganymedesclock · 3 years

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These are questions I've had for some while and it's hard to find someone who'll answer with grace. This mostly relates to disabilities (mental or physical) in fiction.

1) What makes a portrayal of a disability that's harming the character in question ableist?

2) Is there a way to write a disabled villain in a way that isn't ableist?

In the circles I've been in, the common conceptions are you can't use a character's disability as a plot point or showcase it being a hindrance in some manner. heaven forbid you make your villain disabled in some capacity, that's a freaking death sentence to a creative's image. I understand historically villains were the only characters given disabilities, but (and this is my personal experience) I've not seen as many disabled villains nowadays, heck, I see more disabled heroes in media nowadays.

Sorry if this comes off as abrasive, I'd really like to be informed for future media consumption and my own creative endeavors.

Okay so the first thing I'm going to say is that while it IS a good idea to talk to disabled people and get their feedback, disabled people are not a monolith and they aren't going to all have the same take on how this goes.

My personal take is biased in favor that I'm a neurodivergent person (ADHD and autism) who has no real experience with physical disabilities, so I won't speak for physically disabled people- heck, I won't even speak for every neurotype. Like I say, people aren't a monolith.

For myself and my own writing of disabled characters, here's a couple of concepts I stick by:

Research is your friend

Think about broad conventions of ableism

Be mindful of cast composition

1. Research is your friend

Yeah this is the thing everybody says, so here's the main bases I try to cover:

What's the story on this character's disability?

Less in terms of 'tragic angst' and more, what kind of condition this is- because a congenital amputee (that is to say, someone who was born without a limb) will have a different relationship to said limb absence than someone who lost their limb years ago to someone who lost their limb yesterday. How did people in their life respond to it, and how did they respond to it? These responses are not "natural" and will not be the same to every person with every worldview. This can also be a great environment to do worldbuilding in! Think about the movie (and the tv series) How To Train Your Dragon. The vikings in that setting don't have access to modern medicine, and they're, well, literally fighting dragons and other vikings. The instance of disability is high, and the medical terminology to talk about said disabilities is fairly lackluster- but in a context where you need every man you possibly can to avoid the winter, the mindset is going to be not necessarily very correct, but egalitarian. You live in a village of twenty people and know a guy who took a nasty blow to the head and hasn't quite been the same ever since? "Traumatic Brain Injury" is probably not going to be on your lips, but you're also probably going to just make whatever peace you need to and figure out how to accommodate Old Byron for his occasional inability to find the right word, stammers and trembles. In this example, there are several relevant pieces of information- what the character's disability is (aphasia), how they got it (brain injury), and the culture and climate around it (every man has to work, and we can't make more men or throw them away very easily, so, how can we make sure this person can work even if we don't know what's wrong with them)

And that dovetails into:

What's the real history, and modern understandings, of this?

This is where "knowing the story" helps a lot. To keep positing our hypothetical viking with a brain injury, I can look into brain injuries, what affects their extent and prognosis, and maybe even beliefs about this from the time period and setting I'm thinking of (because people have had brains, and brain injuries, the entire time!) Sure, if the setting is fantastical, I have wiggle room, but looking at inspirations might give me a guide post.

Having a name for your disorder also lets you look for posts made by specific people who live with the condition talking about their lives. This is super, super important for conditions stereotyped as really scary, like schizophrenia or narcissistic personality disorder. Even if you already know "schizophrenic people are real and normal" it's still a good thing to wake yourself up and connect with others.

2. Think about broad conventions of ableism

It CAN seem very daunting or intimidating to stay ahead of every single possible condition that could affect someone's body and mind and the specific stereotypes to avoid- there's a lot under the vast umbrella of human experience and we're learning more all the time! A good hallmark is, ableism has a few broad tendencies, and when you see those tendencies rear their head, in your own thinking or in accounts you read by others, it's good to put your skeptical glasses on and look closer. Here's a few that I tend to watch out for:

Failing the “heartwarming dog” test

This was a piece of sage wisdom that passed my eyeballs, became accepted as sage wisdom, and my brain magnificently failed to recall where I saw it. Basically, if you could replace your disabled character with a lovable pet who might need a procedure to save them, and it wouldn’t change the plot, that’s something to look into.

Disability activists speak often about infantilization, and this is a big thing of what they mean- a lot of casual ableism considers disabled people as basically belonging to, or being a burden onto, the able-bodied and neurotypical. This doesn’t necessarily even need to have an able neurotypical in the picture- a personal experience I had that was extremely hurtful was at a point in high school, I decided to do some research on autism for a school project. As an autistic teenager looking up resources online, I was very upset to realize that every single resource I accessed at the time presumed it was talking to a neurotypical parent about their helpless autistic child. I was looking for resources to myself, yet made to feel like I was the subject in a conversation.

Likewise, many wheelchair users have relayed the experience of, when they, in their chair, are in an environment accompanied by someone else who isn’t using a chair, strangers would speak to the standing person exclusively, avoiding addressing the chair user.

It’s important to always remind yourself that at no point do disabled people stop being people. Yes, even people who have facial deformities; yes, even people who need help using the bathroom; yes, even people who drool; yes, even people whose conditions impact their ability to communicate, yes, even people with cognitive disabilities. They are people, they deserve dignity, and they are not “a child trapped in a 27-year-old body”- a disabled adult is still an adult. All of the “trying to learn the right rules” in the world won’t save you if you keep an underlying fear of non-normative bodies and minds.

This also has a modest overlap between disability and sexuality in particular. I am an autistic grayromantic ace. Absolutely none of my choices or inclinations about sex are because I’m too naive or innocent or childlike to comprehend the notion- disabled people have as diverse a relationship with sexuality as any other. That underlying fear- as mentioned before- can prevent many people from imagining that, say, a wheelchair user might enjoy sex and have experience with it. Make sure all of your disabled characters have full internal worlds.

Poor sickly little Tiffany and the Red Right Hand

A big part of fictional ableism is that it separates the disabled into two categories. Anybody who’s used TVTropes would recognize the latter term I used here. But to keep it brief:

Poor, sickly little Tiffany is cute. Vulnerable. How her disability affects her life is that it constantly creates a pall of suffering that she lives beneath. After all, having a non-normative mind or body must be an endless cavalcade of suffering and tragedy, right? People who are disabled clearly spend their every waking moment affected by, and upset, that they aren’t normal!

The answer is... No, actually. Cut the sad violin; even people who have chronic pain who are literally experiencing pain a lot more than the rest of us are still fully capable of living complex lives and being happy. If nothing else, it would be literally boring to feel nothing but awful, and people with major depression or other problems still, also, have complicated experiences. And yes, some of it’s not great. You don’t have to present every disability as disingenuously a joy to have. But make a point that they own these things. It is a very different feeling to have a concerned father looking through the window at his angel-faced daughter rocking sadly in her wheelchair while she stares longingly out the window, compared to a character waking up at midnight because they have to go do something and frustratedly hauling their body out of their bed into their chair to get going.

Poor Sickly Little Tiffany (PSLT, if you will) virtually always are young, and they virtually always are bound to the problems listed under ‘failing the heartwarming dog’ test. Yes, disabled kids exist, but the point I’m making here is that in the duality of the most widely accepted disabled characters, PSLT embodies the nadir of the Victim, who is so pure, so saintly, so gracious, that it can only be a cruel quirk of fate that she’s suffering. After all, it’s not as if disabled people have the same dignity that any neurotypical and able-bodied person has, where they can be an asshole and still expect other people to not seriously attack their quality of life- it’s a “service” for the neurotypical and able-bodied to “humor” them.

(this is a bad way to think. Either human lives matter or they don’t. There is no “wretched half-experience” here- if you wouldn’t bodily grab and yank around a person standing on their own feet, you have no business grabbing another person’s wheelchair)

On the opposite end- and relevant to your question- is the Red Right Hand. The Red Right Hand does not have PSLT’s innocence or “purity”- is the opposite extreme. The Red Right Hand is virtually always visually deformed, and framed as threatening for their visual deformity. To pick on a movie I like a fair amount, think about how in Captain America: The Winter Soldier, the title character is described- “Strong. Fast. Had a metal arm.” That’s a subtle example, but, think about how that metal arm is menacing. Sure, it’s a high tech weapon in a superhero genre- but who has the metal arm? The Winter Soldier, who is, while a tormented figure that ultimately becomes more heroic- scary. Aggressive. Out for blood.

The man who walks at midnight with a Red Right Hand is a signal to us that his character is foul because of the twisting of his body. A good person, we are led to believe, would not be so- or a good person would be ashamed of their deformity and work to hide it. The Red Right Hand is not merely “an evil disabled person”- they are a disabled person whose disability is depicted as symptomatic of their evil, twisted nature, and when you pair this trope with PSLT, it sends a message: “stay in your place, disabled people. Be sad, be consumable, and let us push you around and decide what to do with you. If you get uppity, if you have ideas, if you stand up to us, then the thing that made you a helpless little victim will suddenly make you a horrible monster, and justify us handling you with inhumanity.”

As someone who is a BIG fan of eldritch horror and many forms of unsettling “wrongness” it is extremely important to watch out for the Red Right Hand. Be careful how you talk about Villainous Disability- there is no connection between disability and morality. People will be good, bad, or simply just people entirely separate from their status of ability or disability. It’s just as ableist to depict every disabled person as an innocent good soul as it is to exclusively deal in grim and ghastly monsters.

Don’t justify disabilities and don’t destroy them.

Superpowers are cool. Characters can and IMO should have superpowers, as long as you’re writing a genre when they’re there.

BUT.

It’s important to remember that there is no justification for disabilities, because they don’t need one. Disability is simply a feature characters have. You do not need to go “they’re blind, BUT they can see the future”

This is admittedly shaky, and people can argue either way; the Blind Seer is a very pronounced mythological figure and an interesting philosophical point about what truly matters in the world. There’s a reason it exists as a conceit. But if every blind character is blind in a way that completely negates that disability or makes it meaningless- this sucks. People have been blind since the dawn of time. And people will always accommodate their disabilities in different ways. Even if the technology exists to fix some forms of blindness, there are people who will have “fixable” blindness and refuse to treat it. There will be individuals born blind who have no meaningful desire to modify this. And there are some people whose condition will be inoperable even if it “shouldn’t” be.

You don’t need to make your disabled characters excessively cool, or give them a means by which the audience can totally forget they’re disabled. Again, this is a place where strong worldbuilding is your buddy- a handwave of “x technology fixed all disabilities”, in my opinion, will never come off good. If, instead, however, you throw out a careless detail that the cool girl the main character is chatting up in a cyberpunk bar has an obvious spinal modification, and feature other characters with prosthetics and without- I will like your work a lot, actually. Even if you’re handing out a fictional “cure”- show the seams. Make it have drawbacks and pros and cons. A great example of this is in the series Full Metal Alchemist- the main character has two prosthetic limbs, and not only do these limbs come with problems, some mundane (he has phantom limb pains, and has to deal with outgrowing his prostheses or damaging them in combat) some more fantastical (these artificial limbs are connected to his nerves to function fluidly- which means that they get surgically installed with no anesthesia and hurt like fuck plugging in- and they require master engineering to stay in shape). We explicitly see a scene of the experts responsible for said limbs talking to a man who uses an ordinary prosthetic leg, despite the advantages of an automail limb, because these drawbacks are daunting to him and he is happier with a simple prosthetic leg.

Even in mundane accommodations you didn’t make up- no two wheelchair users use their chair the exact same way, and there’s a huge diversity of chairs. Someone might be legally blind but still navigate confidently on their own; they might use a guide dog, or they might use a cane. They might even change their needs from situation to situation!

Disability accommodations are part of life

This ties in heavily to the previous point, but seriously! Don’t just look up one model of cane and superimpose it with no modifications onto your character- think about what their lifestyle is, and what kind of person they are!

Also medication is not the devil. Yes, medical abuse is real and tragic and the medication is not magic fairy dust that solves all problems either. But also, it’s straight ableism to act like anybody needing pills for any reason is a scary edgy plot twist.

(and addiction is a disease. Please be careful, and moreover be compassionate, if you’re writing a character who’s an addict)

3. Be mindful of cast composition

This, to me, is a big tip about disability writing and it’s also super easy to implement!

Just make sure your cast has a lot of meaningful disabled characters in it!

Have you done all the work you can to try and dodge the Red Right Hand but you’re still worried your disabled villain is a bad look? They sure won’t look like a commentary on disability if three other people in the cast are disabled and don’t have the same outlook or role! Worried that you’re PSLT-ing your main character’s disabled child? Maybe the disability is hereditary and they got it from the main character!

The more disabled characters you have, the more it will challenge you to think about what their individual relationship is with the world and the less you’ll rely on hackneyed tropes. At least, ideally.

Ultimately, there’s no perfect silver bullet of diversity writing that will prevent a work from EVER being ableist, but I hope this helped, at least!

#disability #writing ruminations #readmore

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artzychic27 · 3 years

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In honor of the glorious pride month (Coming up soon), please enjoy these Miraculous Pride Headcanons!

Inspired by this post by @transvoltronhc

You a TERF? Fuck off, beeyatch!

Marinette- The Pan Trans Queen we all Need 🏳️‍⚧️

She/Her- Pansexual/Polyamorous

Every time Marinette inhales, a terf gets punched

Every time Marinette exhales, a trans kid gets a flag

She and Nathaniel supply the face paint

She’s very vocal at pride and gets super violent with protesters

Marinette: *Punching protester while her friends cheer* I don’t wanna see your disgusting face here ever again, you filthy pig! Same goes for the rest of you!

Terfs go to protest, walk away covered in bruises and with a tiny crush on the bluenette

Got into a muscle-flexing contest and won first

Dyed her hair the colors of the pan flag and walks around with a brightly colored, bedazzled trans flag cape

Supplies juice boxes and cookies for the pride kids

She and Marc pass out colorful binders, flower crowns, and starter makeup kits

Drag Queens and Kings LOVE her and are always giving her hugs whenever she walks by / She’s even been commissioned by them to make outfits for their next shows. The audience loved them

Alya- The Badass Pansexual Pirate 🏴‍☠️

She/Her but is not opposed to They/Them

Actually has dressed like a pirate with a sword the colors of her flag. Anarka was so proud

Will punch TERFs with their Pan bestie any day

Ships random people

Leaves many girls swooning as she walks by in her thigh high leather boots

Alya: Sorry ladies, I’m spoken for. *Kisses Nino*

No one dares to flirt with her because she’s out of everyone’s league

One protester made a transphobic comment about Nino, and Alya immediately hit em with a frying Pan

The chaotic aunt of pride

Death drops are flawless!

Hands out phone cases they painted the colors of different pride flags

Born This Way is her anthem

Has many pride-themed superhero tank-tops ‘Super Gay 4 Super Girl’ ‘I’m Bi Man’ ‘Deadpool was at Stonewall’

Nino- The Insanely Cool Bi Trans Guy 😎🏳️‍⚧️

He/Him

Marinette made him a bedazzled cape so they could match

Mari and Kim’s brother in Transness

Dresses in hoodies no matter how hot it is

One of the mom friends. / Everyone wants to be adopted by him. / He once put everyone on baby leashes so they wouldn’t wander off

Everyone refers to him as “Trans DJ Jesus” because he wore sandals with a long curly wig one time. (To this day, no one knows why he did it)

Takes a five-minute break to Vogue with the drag queens

Supplies the music while skateboarding. He blasts every gay national anthem known to humankind

Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Kim are very protective of him. Once, a TERF pushed him to the ground. Alya, Marinette, and Kim beat up the TERF while Adrien treated his friend to some ice cream

Adrien- Shit! We lost the baby! 🏳️‍🌈😱

He/Him & She/Her- Bigender/Bisexual/Polyamorous

Can’t stop, won’t stop wandering off because he’s never been to a Pride parade before

He was surprised at how accepting his father was. Although, it probably had something to do with Nathalie and Gorilla threatening to expose him as Hawkmoth if he didn’t let Adrien go

The class goes ballistic whenever she goes missing and will interrogate anyone

Myléne: *Interrogating a drag queen* Are you hiding him in your wig?! / Marinette: Get her out! She’s so frail! Her dad doesn’t feed her! / Nino: Found him! He was getting ice cream. / Myléne: ... You are free to go.

Nino has to put him on a baby leash every time

Drinks the most juice boxes and eats the most ice cream

Can’t tell when he’s being flirted with / Rando: Hey, cutie. / Adrien: ... My name is Adrien.

Bigender legwarmers, bracelets, and headbands

Dresses in pastels every year, and people just wanna hug him / He's happy to oblige and will hug anyone / Vows to hug the hate out of protesters

Every time Adrien smiles or laughs, a transgender child is accepted by friends and family and then gets a flower crown

Keeps getting asked if she and Marinette are dating. / Adrien: No, we’re just shopping buddies. (Secretly wishes for more)

A girl once asked if he was Cinderella when he wore a blue headband, and he immediately said yes. Now every week for Pride month, she dresses as a different Disney Princess

Nearly fainted when Marinette and Luka entered a flexing contest and Luka’s sleeves tore

Kim- Mari and Nino’s Bi brother in Trans Pride🏳️‍⚧️

He/Him & They/Them- Gender nonconforming

Kim: I’m a guy, I like blouses and heels, deal with it, people!

Kim/Mari/Nino: Bedazzled Cape Squad!

Muscle shirts and converse sneakers / Has a tank top that reads, ‘I flexed so hard the sleeves came off’

Got into a muscle-flexing contest against Luka and Marinette and got third place (No one beats Marinette)

Also can’t tell when they’re being flirted with

Alix and Max convinced him to dress in drag, and he went all out. Now he has the respect of many drag queens. And every pride parade, he wears heels and a huge wig

Gives everyone (Mainly Max) piggyback rides

Asked Max to be his boyfriend at one pride parade, and people thought it was so cute! They named that day, ‘Kimax Day’

Max- Not a Robot, I’m Agender 🤖

They/Them

Has many pride tank-tops and pins with puns / ‘Error 404 Gender Not Found’ ‘I Don’t Speak Binary Code’ ‘2/3 of the Invisible Trio’

Has Marinette paint their cheeks the colors of the agender and asexual flags

Has one of those digital backpacks with pixelated images on the front

Downloads Pride songs for Markov to blasts from their speakers

When they and Alix convinced Kim to dress in drag, Max may or may not have drooled a bit

Progress Pride Flag cape, socks, and nails

When protestors attack, Max goes all LGBT scientist on their butts, explaining the difference between gender and sex, what hormone blockers actually do, and how not every gay person has AIDS

Once beat up a sleazy protester for... Feeling Kim down there / Max: *Hitting protester with a baseball bat* If you ever do that again, I will fit Markov with a laser and have them slice your rotten dick off!

Marinette and Nathaniel helped them make pride bracelets with the sexualities and gender identities written in binary code. The pride nerds LOVED them

Nathaniel: Our Beautiful BiRomantic Son 🎨

He/Him

He and Marinette paint everyone’s faces before every pride parade

Painted an asexual heart on his Bi flag and wore it as a cape

Cuffed jeans, boots, tucked-in shirt, beanie, pride buttons / Paints pride flags on his denim jacket and shorts

Marc does his makeup, and he looks fabulous

His grandma teaches him how to fight in case of violent Christian protesters / Grandma: Sweetie, you’re Jewish and Bisexual, the world is gonna tear you apart. Learn how to give a mean left hook.

Once took over a face painting booth, now he does it every Pride Month

Enters the 'Crush a watermelon between your thighs' contest every time and always wins first

Saw couples cosplaying as Mightillustrator and Inverser, and cried tears of joy

He and Marc cosplay as couples at every pride parade. The fan favorites are Keith and Lance, Tweek and Craig, and Michael and Rich

CANNOT have too much sugar or he goes crazy and wakes up with no memories of what he did

The next day after an intense sugar high, people were saluting as he walked by and calling him ‘General of the Bisexual Battalion’ / He’s not complaining or questioning it / He has an army now and will one day take over all of Europe. Then the world.

Marc: The Rainbow Flag has Taken a Human Form🏳️‍🌈

Nonbinary- He/Him & They/Them

A True Pride Legend

Born on June 1st at a pride parade.

A singer helped deliver him, his cord was cut by a sword Lesbian, he was swaddled in a drag queen’s glitter cape, and their name was thought of by a drag king

This moment was so beautiful that many protesters cried and decided to join the parade

Everyone will literally stop what they’re doing just to get a picture with them / Everyone loves Marc!

Got into a splits contest and won

Makes flower crowns and knits rainbow flag scarves to pass out to everyone

Certified Mom Friend

Does everyone's makeup

Loses his shit when his shorter friends get lost in crowds

Hugs pride kids who were forced to sneak out or were kicked out of their homes then buys them ice cream / He and Nathaniel have adopted over fifty Pride kids who were kicked out of their homes

Joins Adrien in dressing like a Disney Princess. He SLAYED as Snow White

It may not seem like it, but Marc can throw a punch and fight with one hand right behind their back

Beat up a transphobic asshole for trying to “correct” a trans boy by forcing himself onto him. / They never did find the man’s body. In fact, all of his personal information was gone. Almost like he had never even existed... / Marc looks cute, but he can be terrifying when he needs to be

Alix: Two Out of 3 💚💜🖤🤍

She/Her & They/Them

Leaves many girls swooning as they skate by

Devious little shit

She doesn’t beat up protesters like her classmates. She pranks them until they cry / One year, they all ended up covered in rainbow glitter and pink feathers / Adrien and Rose help them make glitter bombs to throw at protesters, then they run away giggling

Wears sarcastic Pride shirts and black shorts with her roller skates

She and Jalil come out to their father every June

Alix: Father. I am AroAce! / Jalil: Also, I am gay! / Alim: Kids, I know. You’ve been doing this every year. / Jalil: Well... Thank you for being an ally!

This is the only time she’ll wear makeup / She wears it like war paint. Only it’s rainbow

Drinks the most juice out of everyone

Ships people with Alya. SHIPPING BUDS!

Myléne: Smol Asexual Bean ♠️

She/Her

Goes all out for Pride Month / Rolls around in glitter with Rose and Sabrina before every parade

Dyes her hair all rainbow / Wears a ‘Shakespeare was Here’ shirt with her asexual flag skirt

Has also beaten up homophobes and transphobes

Is the most vocal when it comes to putting those assholes in their place. Ivan has to hold her back sometimes

After an acephobe after they made certain comments (You ace folk know what I’m talkin ‘bout) She roundhouse kicked them / Every protester knows not to mess with the bohemian girl

Will blast The PROM soundtrack at max volume from her phone

Cosplays as musical characters. Veronica Sawyer was a fan favorite

Part of the “Where the Hell is Adrien?” Squad

Ivan: My Girlfriend is Stronger than Me, and it’s So Hot 💪😍

Prefers He/Him but is cool with other pronouns - Questioning his gender so isn’t using any labels right now

The responsible auncle

Mari and Alya’s partner in Pansexuality/ He can’t help if everyone is attractive, he just can’t!

Looks like he can kill you, but is actually a cinnamon role. Myléne on the other hand...

Has let Marc do their makeup and nails, and looks gorgeous!

Did drag. Slayed. Rocks those three-inch heels.

Tank tops and shorts club

Like Marinette, no one dares to flirt with him. Not because he’s out of their league, but because they’re scared of his girlfriend

Dyes his blonde tuft pastel pink every year

More pacifistic than her friends are when it comes to protesters, but if the right buttons are pressed, hell shall be raised

They join Alya and Alix in shipping random people

Rose: The Lovely Lipstick Lesbian💄

She/Her- Breaking lesbian stereotypes est. 2004

The kind aunt who supports all of her niblings

Has been going to pride with her dads since she was born/ One of her dads is a retired drag queen

Wears her rainbow fairy wings every year

Has a lesbian flag with dozens of girls' phone numbers written on it. / Doesn’t wear it anymore now that she has Juleka

Throws fistfuls of glitter at protesters and yells at them, “LIGHTEN UP!”

Sprinkles glitter on pride kids and tells them to sparkle

Marinette helps her make rainbow unicorn plushies to hand out to children every year

Dresses as Disney Princesses with Adrien and Marc. Princess Squad!

Bakes cookies to pass around

Drag Kings and Queens love this girl! She’s cute, loud, and carries glitter everywhere

Butch lesbians learn not to flirt with her after their encounter with Juleka

To piss of protesters, she dipped Juleka and kissed her for ten whole seconds / Rose: I bet your husbands don’t love you like that. / Drag Queens: BUUUUUURN!

Juleka: The Gay Witch 🖤🏳️‍🌈

She/Her & They/Them - Total lesbian

Was there when Marc was born, and will never forget that day. (She has an impressive memory, even as a baby)

They swore they saw a rainbow when he was born

Dresses as a witch and wears red eye contacts to every pride event so she freaks out protesters

Has actually cursed them / They just bought the spellbook off of Amazon

Carries around a rainbow parasol

Carries Rose under every threshold she comes across

Is a lot louder at pride events than on regular days

She actually sang Girls Like Girls up on stage, and everyone went wild

Sometimes wears suits

When they saw Rose being flirted with by some butch lesbians, they went ballistic / Now the butch lesbians are terrified of her forever

She and Luka help out with painting her friends’ nails and dying their hair

Dyes her hair rainbow every pride month

Luka: The Responsible Hot & Chaotic Auncle 💖💚💙

Agender- They/Them, He/Him, She/Her - Polysexual/Polyamorous

“For me, gender is like silence... I’m just not into it.”

Doesn’t really care what pronouns people use for him

Wears dresses to every pride parade. Anarka and Juleka have never been so proud

Is always doing drag cosplay. Marc and Nathaniel have never been so proud / They had people gawking when they did Jessica Rabbit cosplay

Purposely bends over in front of people, while wearing leggings, skirts, skinny jeans, or short shorts. Marinette, Kagami, and Adrien got nosebleeds

Marinette/Kagami/Adrien: Luka's ass in those shorts is a Godsend.

Dyes her hair rainbow every pride parade

The minute June starts, they’ll get up in the morning, grab their Polysexual flag, and just run around the city

Has been coming up with Pride songs to sing at protesters. Many of the songs insult them. / Luka: Okay! This one goes out to the trash behind barriers, it’s called, “Please shut the fuck up, you homophobic dildos!”

Got into a flexing contest and won second, but at the cost of their sequined sleeves

Asked Adrien, Marinette, and Kagami to be his significant others at a pride event. They all said yes

Has carried Adrien and Marinette on her biceps, and Kagami on her shoulders

Adrien: ... I marrying them first. / Marinette: Get in the back of the line, blonde wonder! / Kagami: Both of you move to the back.

Kagami: While You Were Busy Being Hetero, I Studied the Blade 🗡

She/Her - PanRomantic/Polyamorous

Surprisingly, her mother was very supportive. She even bought Kagami a rainbow sword / Turns out, Tamoe had a few flings herself. 😉

Kagami came out to the whole fencing team by wearing a pansexual-flag print fencing mask. Adrien squealed all through practice

She didn’t quite understand what polyamory meant and was confused as to why she had crushes on Adrien, Marinette, and Luka at the same time

After a bit of explaining and reassuring her that it was totally normal and not being disloyal to a partner, Kagami came to terms with being polyamorous

Tamoe allowed Kagami to go to her first Pride Parade. On the condition that she take her sword to ward off protesters

She was so overwhelmed and wasn’t entirely sure what to do until she found Marinette, Luka, and Adrien in the crowd with their friends

The four of them hung out together and got closer

Believes Adrien in pastels is one of the purest things on Earth

When Marinette and Luka entered the flexing contest, Kagami had to keep Adrien and herself from fainting

When Luka asked her, Marinette, and Adrien to be his significant others she tried to resist the urge to jump and squeal, but couldn’t hold it in

Likes it when Marinette wraps her trans flag around her. It’s so warm

Chased off a protester and TERF with her sword. They said some shit about Marinette being ‘fake’, Luka being ‘greedy’, and Adrien being a ‘pansy’, and she just snapped / While screaming in rapid Japanese, she chased about fifty protesters away. Her SOs were so proud.

Sabrina: The Ginger Gent 👑🏳️‍🌈

She/Her, He/Him in Drag- PanRomantic

Rolls around in glitter, as is a Drag tradition

Dresses in drag. / The Ginger Gent is her drag king name and she’s got like a glam rocker theme going on

Sequined leather jacket, coiffed toupee, glitter makeup

Started doing drag when she was twelve. Her dad supported her wholeheartedly and even entered her in junior drag contests. She took first place three times

Sometimes puts on private drag shows for Chloé. (Nothing weird!)

Marinette helps makes most of her costumes

Luka’s partner in Drag / Together, they kick ass and still look glamorous

A makeup expert (Next to Marc)

Roger taught her self defense / If you're going to Pride, learn to fight

Has taken down thirty protesters, his hair still looks awesome, and there's not a sequin out of place.

Chloé: The Badass Polysexual Demigirl 💖💚💙

She/Her and They/Them

Not really that attracted to guys

Best dressed. / Marc/Luka/Sabrina: She wishes!

Only allows Marc to do their makeup, no one else!

She has her own float in the parade / She passes out rainbow boas

Taking names and kicking butt

Has actually choked a protester with their flag and they don't do a thing about it since they're the mayor's child

Chloe: It pays to have political power. / Marinette: In this situation.

Doesn't tell people, but they came to Marinette, Nino, and Kim about gender stuff when they were questioning their identity

The day was spent teaching Chloe about the trans spectrum until she found the gender that felt right to her

Whenever Chloe gets excited, she makes out with the first girl she comes across. / Many young female protesters started questioning things when the blonde's lips grazed against theirs'

254 notes · View notes

caranfindel · 3 years

Text

Take these broken wings and learn to fly (15.20 coda)

het, but Wincest-compatible | about 2300 words | PG-13 for language | characters: sam winchester, sam’s blurry wife |

Julia has been widowed (God, what an awful word, widowed) for three years when she meets Sam. It’s a work-based friendship at first. She’s kind of lonely and sad, he’s kind of lonely and sad, and they gravitate toward each other. And then one evening they’re at a bar, the last ones left from an after-work happy hour, both of them drinking more than they should, and she thinks he’s kind and thoughtful and smart and he may be 10 years older than me but he’s still hot as hell and I enjoy being with him and I look forward to seeing him and maybe I should just… and she kisses him. He’s shocked; shocked enough to confirm that he wasn’t just hanging around hoping to make it out of the friendzone. And then he’s holding her face in his hands and he’s kissing her too.

It’s good. They’re good together. It’s not the earth-shattering, all-encompassing romance she had with Shaun. Julia knows she’ll never have anything like that again. Most people don’t even get one soulmate in their lives; no one gets two. And she knows Sam doesn’t have that same desperate love that Shaun had for her; she knows she’ll never have his whole heart. (She knows the woman he intended to marry was killed in a fire, she knows another woman he loved went back to her ex. She doesn’t know which of these women still owns that last piece of Sam’s heart.) But she loves Sam, and he loves her, and they get married.

(The sex is amazing. Sometimes he’s gentle, almost reverent, as if he’s afraid he’ll break her, and other times he’s fierce and passionate and almost tries to break her, and she loves both ends of the spectrum.)

She suggests they melt down her old wedding band to make a new one. It was an heirloom from her grandmother, a plain wide band of yellow gold that she loves, that she thought she’d wear for the rest of her life. But Shaun is the one who put it on her finger the first time. It doesn’t seem right to ask Sam to accept it now. A new band from the old gold seems like a good compromise. No, Sam says, I couldn’t ask you to do that. I know a way we can make it ours. He has the inside of the band engraved with the same symbol he wears tattooed over his heart, and makes her promise to never take it off. Bad luck, he says.

He’s such a contradiction. Scary smart, but as superstitious as an Appalachian grandmother. Calm and unflappable, but with a weirdly hyperactive startle reflex. Kind and empathetic, but capable of extreme violence when pushed to his limits (seriously, don’t walk your drunk ass up to Sam Winchester’s wife and lay hands on her, and don’t get mouthy when she tells you to back off) and just really, frighteningly skilled at that violence.

(A little frightening and also very sexy. Julia’s always had a thing for the hero type.)

They both have nightmares. One night Julia watches Shaun’s face melting under his gear and wakes with a cry of horror. Sam holds her as she tearfully describes living on the knife edge of constant fear that comes with loving someone whose job is literally running into burning buildings. I know, he says, over and over, even though he can’t possibly know. The irony of their first loves both dying in flames is not lost on her, but it’s not like his college girlfriend was a firefighter. It’s not like he watched her go to work every day and prayed she’d make it home alive.

Julia’s pregnancy is a wonderful surprise. She and Shaun had tried for over a year before she was widowed, and she just didn’t count on it happening with Sam. They agree not to name the baby after anyone they’ve lost. Let’s not name him after our pain, she says, and Sam is okay with that. (Or he isn’t. But ever since she showed him the positive pregnancy test, she’s known she could ask him for anything. She’s known he would rip out his heart and serve it on a platter if she asked for it.)

But they haven’t decided on a name yet when her water breaks four weeks early. When their perfect baby boy is born at 12:10 a.m., the nurse announces the date and time and Sam looks up at her in shock and blinks away happy tears and says it’s the 24th. It’s my brother’s birthday. Julia is flying high on endorphins; she loves this baby and she loves this man and she even loves his dead brother she never got to meet, and she says it’s got to be a sign; let’s name him Dean.

She takes off her wedding ring, just this once, to have Dean’s birthdate engraved on the inside. Sam does the same with his own ring. He insists they go to a jeweler who will engrave while they wait, rather than leaving the rings there. She waves a hand at her lumpy postpartum body. You afraid someone’s gonna make a move on all this if you don’t keep a ring on it?

He laughs at her and says you’re onto me, even though he’s the one who needs to be locked away, still with that long lean runner’s body and the amazing shoulders and the goddamn dimples. I just don’t like us being without them, he says. He is a sweet, sentimental fool and she adores him. He bends down to kiss her, carefully maneuvering the baby he’s wearing in a sling, and Julia looks at this man and this baby and this life she didn’t think she was get to have and knows she’s happier than she has any right to be. And she’s relieved when Sam slips the ring back onto her finger, this ring imbued with the men she loves, so maybe he’s not the only sentimental fool.

(One thing she loves about Sam is that he understands why she feels guilty that Shaun didn’t get to share this life with her.)

In July they light a little candle for Dean’s six-month birthday. When Julia wakes the next morning, Sam’s side of the bed is empty and cold. She finds him cuddling their sleeping baby in the living room. I got up to give him a bottle, Sam says. I guess I just fell asleep out here. His red-rimmed eyes and empty coffee mug suggest he didn’t actually sleep at all, but, well. They’re both battling their own private demons. If a night cradling the baby gives Sam some peace for whatever reason, she’s glad of it.

Sam’s fierce love for their child takes her by surprise. If Julia has 90% of his heart, his son has 110%. He parents with a vengeance, is the only way she can think of to describe it. Like he’s making up for something. She doesn’t feel slighted, but it’s impossible to ignore that ever since Dean was born, Sam’s prime objective has been to make sure the boy is happy and safe. Everything else comes second.

(When she notices Sam has been carefully marking his tattoo symbol onto Dean’s clothing, hidden near seams and always in a color that almost matches the fabric, she decides not to say anything. He gets a little funny about his superstitions sometimes.)

Sam desperately wants Dean to have a sibling, and they try for another one, but it doesn’t happen. Julia reminds him that they’re lucky to have even one child. That having a sibling is not a lifetime guarantee of companionship and love. She should know, after all, since Stephanie cut her off after she married that asshole Scientologist and decided she couldn’t have a relationship with anyone who wasn’t also in their stupid cult.

Dean has plenty of friends and tons of activities, which Sam encourages with an almost religious fervor, but he never pulls away from his parents. They have so much in common, Sam and his son. Instead of rebelling as a teenager, Dean seems to grow even closer to his father. They spend hours together, paging through the ancient books in Sam’s study (she hates them, they smell musty and make her sneeze) or driving in the old Chevrolet. They even travel together sometimes, visiting those friends of Sam’s that live up north somewhere. Julia met them at the wedding and they were perfectly nice, thrilled to death that she and Sam had found each other. But she always feels like an outsider when they’re around, like they’re part of something she’ll never understand. So much history, with Sam and the brother she never got to meet. They absolutely dote on Dean though, and he seems to love them too, so the boys’ trip to Sioux Falls becomes an annual event.

(Dean is 14 years old when he comes home from one of these trips with his own version of the tattoo.)

When Julia is diagnosed with cancer, Dean is 16 years old. Sam does his best to ensure life goes on as normal for their son but somehow never neglects Julia’s needs. He throws himself into research and is always on top of the latest treatment, always at her elbow with the top internet-recommended remedy for her side effects, making sure both she and Dean have everything they want and need, all the attention and support they can tolerate. She doesn’t know when, or if, Sam actually sleeps. When she feels up for it, he arranges experiences for the three of them. A week lying on the beach, a weekend in New York City, a night in the mountains looking at the stars. When we look back on this time, he says, I don’t want us to only remember how much it sucked. I want us all to have good memories too.

(She doesn’t know why he’s concerned about her memories. There’s a good chance she won’t have much time to enjoy them. But it’s good for Dean. She doesn’t want this to ruin Dean’s childhood.)

Sam insists Dean go away to college as planned. Julia agrees, although she’s kind of surprised he’s willing to let the boy out of his sight. Aren’t you going to miss him? she asks.

So much, he answers. But this isn’t about me, and what I need. It’s about him. They drive Dean to school in the ancient Chevrolet. Supposedly because the trunk has room for all of his stuff, but Julia is pretty sure it’s just one last sentimental road trip in the old thing before Sam retires it. When they pick Dean up at the end of the school year, it’s in her SUV. Dean promises his father, more than once, that he’ll restore the Chevy someday.

Five years after Julia’s diagnosis, she’s sitting in the doctor’s office learning that her last remission was her last remission. There are no more options. She has months, not years. Sam clutches her hand and nods, once, as if to say I should have known this would happen; I should have expected something like this. Then he takes her home.

It’s a blessing in a way, he says late that night, after a little too much to drink. Knowing what’s coming. Having time to say goodbye. You don’t always get that. And yes, she knows this as well as anybody does.

Sam has always been supportive of her choice not to contact Stephanie, but one day he says Jules, I promise I’ll never bring it up again. It’s just that I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you miss the opportunity to say things that you’ll wish you’d said. Julia isn’t sure Steph will speak to her. She’s not even sure she’ll have the same phone number — they haven’t spoken since Dad’s funeral, a year after she was widowed — but she makes the call. And Steph answers. And cries. And comes to visit, where she hugs and cries some more. Sam watches it all with a sad smile for a while, then disappears into the garage to sit in the old Chevy.

When Julia takes her last conscious breaths, Dean is holding one hand and Sam is holding the other. She squeezes her son’s hand and thinks I love you, dear boy, and I’m sorry I have to leave you. She squeezes her husband’s hand and thinks thank you for giving me this, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for loving me and letting me love you. Then she closes her eyes and lets the soft, warm darkness take over.

And then. Then she wakes to a cool breeze and the sound of chirping birds. She’s standing at a lake she recognizes. It’s Shaun’s favorite fishing spot. And Shaun is there, waiting for her. And everything is okay.

Sam does show up eventually. Julia’s sitting on the porch of the cabin with Shaun, enjoying the perpetual nice day (sometimes a spring morning, sometimes a fall afternoon, but always nice) when she hears the familiar rumble. It cant be, she thinks. It can’t be that old car. But it is.

I’m glad you found someone with good taste in cars, Shaun says, as Sam unfolds himself from the driver’s seat. He looks exactly as he did the day she met him; no glasses, only a little grey at his temples. Still tall and strong and beautiful. She runs to meet him and embraces him as Shaun watches from the porch.

You found Shaun, Sam says. I’m so happy for you, Jules. I really am. He doesn’t seem to have any intention of joining her (their) Heaven permanently, but he doesn’t seem to have anyone else with him either. Where is the dead girlfriend? How is this fair?

They talk about Dean, and Julia’s heart swells with pride over her strong, smart, kind, brave son. He’s like you, she says. He’s just like you.

Sam shrugs. He’s a Winchester.

But what about you? she says. You’re not — you’re not alone here, are you?

Nah, he says. I’m good. I promise.

(Eventually Julia meets the first Dean, and she understands.)

===

I know a lot of people have mocked Sam's blurry wife, but I actually have grown to love the concept. Because it means she can be anything we want her to be. And yeah, initially I liked the idea of her being Dr. Cara, or Eileen. But now I don't think that would happen. I think Sam would have to start fresh to have that kind of relationship. And I also like the idea of Sam's wife having her own soulmate somewhere, waiting for her, so she's not a huge part of Sam and Dean's shared Heaven. I mean, they're gonna visit, obviously. And then they'll go home to their soulmates.

The title is from "Blackbird" by the Beatles.

#spn #15.20 #my fic #episode coda #sam winchester

207 notes · View notes

fanfics4all · 3 years

Text

Not One Of You Anymore: Part 28

Request: Yes / No

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

John Murphy x Fem! Griffin!Reader

Word count: 2086

Warnings: Getting robbed I suppose?

Y/N: Your Name

Summary: You weren’t meant to be born but you were so when you were ten your mom and the Chancellor sent you to the ground as a test for the 100

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

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Masterlist

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

John and I packed some things and left to meet Jaha at the Dropship. John was determined to get us to the city of light. He wanted us to have a life without judgement. I was mostly curious to see if it’s real or just a rumor like everyone says it is. I thought about Lexa a lot during our trek. I understood why she left me in the mountain, but if she found out that I was weak and fell in love she would kill me.

“Sir, do you recognize anything?” One of the guys asked.

“The tent was near here. I’m sure of it.” Jaha answered and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah right, it’s all just sand.” I mumbled and John sighed.

“What’s the matter? You guys got some place better to be?” John asked as he pulled me along.

“You have a point.” I sighed and he smirked. He stopped by Jaha and looked around.

“You see anyone?” He asked. Jaha walked towards the wagon.

“Bak op o ai na frag yu!” (Stay back or I’ll kill you!) A woman said and jumped up with a knife.

“We mean you no harm.” Jaha said and John held me behind him.

“Do you speak English?” Jaha asked.

“What do you want?” The girl asked.

“Nothing. It looks like you could use a hand. What are you doing out here along?” He asked and I looked around, something didn’t seem right.

“My brother and I were on our way to the City of Light… when Wastelanders attacked.” She said, removing her face mask.

“They took our horse. All our water, everything. They killed him. This cart is all I have left.” She answered.

“Give her some water.” Jaha said and John started taking his bag off.

“No, no, no. We barely have enough for ourselves here.” One of the men said.

“Touch me again and I’ll end you.” John threatened, but I held him back.

“I don’t trust her.” I whispered.

“You don’t trust anyone babe.” He said and pulled me along. John pulled his water bottle out and handed it to her.

“It’s okay.” He said and I kept my eyes narrowed at her. She took it and desperately drank it.

“We’re on our way to the City of Light as well. What’s your name?” Jaha asked and I looked at him with wide eyes.

“Emori.” She answered and I looked back at her.

“Everyone in the Dead Zone is looking for the City of Light. Almost no one finds it. I can get you there.” She said and that’s when I noticed her covered hand. She’s one of the freaks…

“If you pull my cart.” She added.

“Done.” Jaha said and I gripped John’s arm.

“We can’t trust her.” I whispered.

“Caspian, you’re on the first shift!” Jaha shouted.

“Then just trust me.” He whispered.

“Thanks for the water.” She said, handing the water back to him.

“It’s uh- It was no problem.” John said and I narrowed my eyes at her. All of us were walking through the Dead Zone, pulling Emori’s cart.

“So I gotta ask, what made you ditch your home and risk your life to cross the beach from hell?” John asked her. I was walking ahead of them because I didn’t want to be near her.

“It doesn’t matter.” She answered.

“Come on, take my mind off all the fun we’re having.” John said in his usual sarcastic tone, making me smirk slightly.

“It wasn’t my decision to leave.” She answered and I perked up slightly.

“Kicked out? Okay, now I’m interested. What did you do?” He asked.

“If I told you, you would not look at me the same.” She said.

“Maybe. Then again, I might surprise you.” He said and I glared slightly.

“What about you? How did you end up in the Dead Zone?” She asked him.

“I could tell you the gory details, but since you’re one of the few people on this planet who doesn’t hate me at the moment, I don’t think I wanna blow it.” He answered and I felt my heart break slightly.

“Now I’m interested.” She said with an obvious flirty tone.

“Okay, you really wanna know? I killed two people. Tried to kill two more. I had my reasons, but nobody cared. I’m the bad guy.” He said and I frowned.

“Told you I’d blow it.” He said after a moment. I looked back and saw she was showing him her hand. It was mutated.

“My people saw me as a stain in the bloodline, something to erase.

“Then screw them.” John said and I looked at him with a furrowed brow.

“I wouldn’t cover it up. I think it’s pretty badass.” He said and my eyes widened slightly.

“Ai don get in yu were won kom emo.” (I knew you were one of them.) I growled, walking up to them. Emori took out her knife and I took out one of my swords.

“Y/N! Stop!” John said and Emori’s eyes widened.

“Yu laik Heda’s ait meika?” (You’re the commander’s right hand?) she asked, still holding her knife to protect herself.

“Yu beda na stedaunon!” (You should be dead!) I growled and went to go attack her, but John stopped me.

“Calm down Y/N!” He said holding me close to him.

“Let me go John!” I growled.

“No, not until you tell me why the hell you’re attacking her.” He said.

“She’s one of those freaks! Heda said they die.” I said.

“You’re not with Lexa anymore. She left you to die, remember? She left you with Cage.” He said and I shuddered.

“Don’t you dare mention that name!” I said and shoved him away from me. I could feel tears well in my eyes as the memories that didn’t happen that long again resurfaced.

“Come here.” He said and pulled me to him, taking my sword from my hand and put it in its sheath.

“For Heda’s right hand, you’re weak.” Emori said and I glared at her.

“I’ll show you weak!” I shouted, just John pulled me back.

“She’s been through a lot recently.” He said and pulled me away.

“Don’t kill her, for me.” He said and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Why? So you can flirt with her more?” I spat.

“What? I wasn’t-”

“Save it.” I cut him off and walked off.

Now it was Jaha, John, Emori, and I pulling her damn cart. It was hot, and hard to pull the cart through the sand. I was still annoyed at John for flirting with her and then lying about it, so we weren’t speaking right now.

“Dei de’s far pleni!” (That’s far enough!) A man on a horse said, holding a large gun.

“Chancellor, look out!” The guards shouted and held their guns at the ready.

“Non gon mov!” (Nobody move!) He shouted.

“Hold your fire!” Jaha said and Emori grabbed John and held a knife to his throat.

“Wait!” John said as she pulled him along. I pulled my sword out and was ready to kill her and the asshole on the horse.

“Everybody, put your weapons and supplies in the cart and nobody gets hurt.” She said.

“Natrona! Heda was ait hashta bilaik kind!” (Traitor! The Commander was right about your kind!) I growled.

“En em looks like Heda was wrong hashta yu.” (And it looks like The Commander was wrong about you) She said with a smirk.

“If we give you our supplies, we’ll all die out here.” Jaha said.

“If you don’t you’ll die right here.” She said.

“Say the word and I’ll kill her before he could even think about pulling the trigger.” I growled.

“No, do as she says, now.” Jaha said. Everyone put their stuff in the cart but me.

“Dula op em don eni techin?” (Do they have any technology?) The man on the horse asked.

“Oso’ll dig au.” (We’ll find out.) She called back.

“How’s your faith holding up, Chancellor?” John asked.

“Shut up.” She said.

“Unwavering.” He answered.

“You don’t want to do this.” He said walking towards her and I rolled my eyes.

“Stop walking.” She said.

“We all came out here searching for a better life, same as you. Maybe we can find it, if we work together.” He said.

“She’s not to be trusted.” I growled.

“Shut up Y/N.” John said and I narrowed my eyes more.

“Thanks. But no.” She said.

“Emori, hos op!” (Emori, hurry up!) The man shouted.

“Now, Y/N put your stuff in the cart and everyone back away and get on your knees!” She shouted.

“Do as she says Y/N.” John said.

“Fine.” I growled and put my things in the cart and backed away with everyone else, also getting on my knees. She turned and put John on his knees as well.

“What a surprise, you’re just like everyone else.” He said. She whispered something in his ear and I glared at her.

“Good luck, John.” She said then knocked him out.

As soon as they left I rushed to John’s side. It was getting dark and we decided not to move until he woke up.

“John.” I whispered, trying to wake him once again.

“Come on John, we need to get going.” I whispered. John coughed and reached for his head.

“There, he’s up. It’s about time.” Caspian said.

“Quiet, Caspian.” Jaha said.

“Are you alright?” Jaha asked and I helped him stand up.

“If he’s not, we’re leaving him here. His little girlfriend too.” Caspian said and I glared at him.

“Say another word and I’ll kill you.” I growled.

“Easy Y/N, I’m okay.” He said.

“It’s time to go home.” Caspian said and Jaha looked at him.

“And where exactly is that?” He asked.

“Sir, I know you’re trying to take us to a better place, but look around. We’ve got no food, we’ve got no water, and no idea how to find it.” Caspian said.

“Due North.” John said and we looked at him confused.

“She said due North.” He added and I rolled my eyes.

“What is due North, John?” Jaha asked.

“She was talking about the City of Light.” He answered and I scoffed.

“Did she say that?” Caspian asked.

“No.” He answered.

“Doesn’t matter what she said, we can’t trust her!” I said.

��Did she say how far due North?” Jaha asked.

“No, she didn’t, but she wouldn’t be sending us there if we couldn’t make it.” He said.

“You honestly want to trust the bitch that just stole all our stuff?” I asked.

“Sir, I really hope you are not considering this.” Caspian said.

“John, we have no weapons and no rations. If we go North and you’re wrong, then all of us will die. If we turn back now, we live.” Jaha said.

“So that’s it? We’ve reached the point of no return? You wanna give up?” John asked.

“I didn’t say that.” Jaha said.

“You didn’t not say it either.” He said.

“That is the North Star.” Jaha said pointing up at the sky.

“After you.” He said and motioned for John to go first. John looked at me.

“You coming?” He asked and I sighed.

“You’re lucky I lo- I mean yeah.” I said and grabbed his arm, heading North. My cheeks were heating up as we walked away from the group.

“The rest of you need to decide for yourselves, but either way, we’ll come back for you when we find it.” Jaha said.

“Sir? This is a mistake! You’re not gonna find it! You’re not gonna make it!” Caspian shouted.

“So… What was that you were about to say?” John asked walking backwards in front of me with a smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, obviously playing dumb.

“Really? Because I think you were about to say the L word.” He said, his smirk growing.

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” I said and he furrowed his brows.

“I believe this is what they call having faith, John.” Jaha said, catching up to us as we climbed the hill.

“Faith? Nah, we just have nothing better to do, right Y/N?” He asked me and I bit my lip.

“I suppose so.” I said and walked ahead of them. I can’t believe I almost told John I loved him! I could never say that to him, otherwise I would be weak and I will not be weak again.

Tag list: @theschuylersistersss @iamaunicorn4704 @riverdalehoeeeeeee @imaginehuntress @tiannawashere @teenwolfbitches2 @mockinghijack @genius2050 @hollandechart @somethingdawn @j-a-valls @moonstarsandsongs @rascal-20 @ginger-haired-queen @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @emo-godess-loves-you @now-imagine @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @vanessa-kom-skaikru

#The 100 #the 100 imagine #the 100 season 2 #john murphy #john murphy x reader #the 100 john murphy #john x fem!reader #john x reader #john x griffin!reader #john x fem!griffin!reader #john murphy x fem!reader #john murphy x griffin!reader #john murphy x fem!griffin!reader #clarke griffin x sister!reader #fanfic #not one of you anymore #part 28 #Emori

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theskywaslookingback · 3 years

Note

You can’t just say that and Not tell us more about your oc’s 👀

(I started writing the response to this at work and it got uhhh long, sorry. Also I came home and then had to drive back to work to activate a keycard so you know...that's why this took like nine hours to post, sorry. And thank you both for asking!)

*shows up six hours late with Starbucks and a powerpoint presentation*

Welcome! Have a seat! We might be here for a while :3c

So like I guess about six years ago or so I started a pet project that I told my friends about calling it “the novel I’ll never write” which has spiraled out of control and now lives in my mind rent free but also refuses to be written down. (I even made a blog for it @thisisnotanovel and my friends and I call it tinan) It’s changed several times in the last few years as I’ve made plot changes and character changes but the basis remains pretty much the same.

“This Is Not A Novel” is not a novel about Alecsandyr “It’s Alec, asshole” Summers (who a friend once called Alex sand hair dryer and now I can’t stop calling him that in my head) who’s a mid-twenties burn out who lives with his mom, dropped out of college, and has severe anxiety and depression issues. While on a trip with his mom to visit his grandfather up in Alaska, he steals his stepfather’s car and tries to take it for a joyride. He crashes pretty spectacularly, and it’s literal luck that he survives the crash - though, if asked he wouldn’t call it luck, he’d call it a failed suicide attempt like he’s failed everything else in his life. Anyway he gets air lifted to a hospital and is put on life support.

Now, Alec’s mom is a piece of shit and she makes no secret that she hates her son and hates that he still lives with her and doesn’t want him around. She starts asking the doctors when they would know for sure if he’s going to make it and starts making funeral arrangements even before he gets out of surgery. (Syl, you might be saying, this isn’t how hospitals work. And my answer is that it’s my not novel and I get to make up what I want. I’ll do actual research if I decide to write it.) All of this gets the attention of Alec’s nurse, Dante Lebasque.

Dante is an older, sympathetic man (who in my mind version of this not novel as a not movie is Idris Elba) and he decides that if Alec does have to fully go on life support and if Alec’s mother decides to let him go then he’s going to do something about it. Because -and this is where my emo 2007 self comes into full spotlight- Dante is the head of a small vampire coven, so in order to preserve Alec’s life he decides to turn him into a vampire.

So imagine you’ve decided that you’re going to steal a car, okay? And that you’re going to drive that car off the side of a mountain. And there’s pain and then it’s dark...and then you wake up in a coffin. Because that’s how Alec’s shit goes down. He’s laying there, fully dressed in a suit he’s never worn, and somehow he can see? And he’s not breathing? And his heart isn’t beating? And he’s starving?? And of course he’s freaking out because he’s locked in a box of some kind and he has no clue where he is or why and then suddenly there’s shifting sounds and scraping metal and he’s blinking up at a solid black sky and the greenest eyes he’s ever seen and a deep voice saying “Took a bit longer than we thought. Welcome to the legion of the undead, kid.”

And that’s how we meet Richard Davis, like 100 years old but somehow also the most “new and with it” of the group. He is the hipster meme personified. He used to like Starbucks but now he’s really into this one coffee chain you’ve never heard of. He doesn’t listen to music, actually, just Gregorian chanting. His last living breath was probably saying “well, actually.” And he’s Alec’s guardian, the one who teaches him how to like, ya know, be a vampire. Alec calls him Dick.

Also at the graveside is an angel of a woman, wearing a white dress with bright curly red hair. The first thing Alec notices about her is that she’s barefoot. Her name is Erika Chambers and where Richard is blunt and impatient she’s kind and measured. She was turned by a different vampire and left to fend for herself and she killed a lot of people before killing her sire. When Dante found her she was practically feral and just looking to be taken out by a hunter. He helped her understand what was happening to her but let her decide if she wanted to stay. She did, and she’s never left.

Alec hates all of this. It’s a special hell to want to die and not be allowed to. He refuses to believe that Dante turned him for purely selfless reasons.

When Dante has meetings with the governing council, Alec finds a way to spy on him and overhear, which is how he learns that Dante’s coven was about to be absorbed into a larger one because it was too small and he needed more coven members. Alec is furious and tries to leave but Richard stops him and explains that fledglings can’t go anywhere without a guardian. Alec tries to fight Richard and loses.

Alec confronts Dante later and Dante admits that, yes, part of the reason he turned Alec was because he was about to lose his coven, but it was also because he didn't want to see a young life ended so soon blah blah blah.

So during that fight Alec totally forgets about this other part he heard between Dante and the council where they mention some concern about missing vampires from smaller covens that they haven't heard from in a while and Dante mentions that they were loners and they'll likely show up in a few years.

But alas! They have been murdered! By my favorite villain of all time, Ariadne Rosewood, who is a witch using immortal blood to keep herself immortal.

So you have Alec struggling with himself and his feelings of self worth and depression vs his struggle to trust those around him vs the larger villain that wants to kill them all.

And then we have such wonderful characters as: Karazeda Sloan, Erika's girlfriend and a vampire hunter born into the trade that kind of maybe wants to be a vampire herself. Dominic, the leader of the wolf pack that I added as a joke because I made Alec a furry and it infuriated my friends. Carolina Davenport and her girlfriend Ava Lopez with their coven of vampires, Blaise, Ambrose, and Cole.

So yeah!! Horribly long post and now to the actual joke of it:

(H)imbo - Dominic, because he's a big beefy wolfman with no braincells but much love in his heart

Mean Bisexual - Alec, because he's a bitch and I love him so much

Meaner Lesbian - Karazeda, because she's an even bigger bitch and I love her So Much

She/theys - Carolina and Ava

He/theys - Cole and Ambrose

Token Straight - Dante, but he's also ace so he gets a pass

Astrology Bitch - Erika, I bet she keeps everyones birth charts on the wall

Short King - Richard, 5'5" tiny motherfucker and the more he acts like a brat the shorter I make him. He used to be 6'2".

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

#statement ends #yetanothergreyjedi #anonymous #oc tag #long post

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elliewritessometimes · 3 years

Text

IT’S @mattieswheelers BIRTHDAY!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVELY WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH

beCAUSE of this, myself and @notsomightymightytiger decided to steal tea leaf’s time travelling mattie au and create a whole entire fic with their ideas and also a design that @ari-is-anxious did a while back!! hope you enjoy aaaaaaa <3333 aLSO stabbies try and spot as many starboard references as you can heheheh

this can be read on ao3 here if you prefer the format :)

tw: swearing, murder (it’s minor and resolved tho jsgh), religion (nicco my love read with care), blood, i really hope i haven’t missed anything please do let me know if i missed anything

Mattie had always been able to time travel. For as long as she could remember, her walk-in wardrobe had been lined with silver metal and held no clothes at all. As a child, this made it all the more exciting, though as she grew older and actually started to want to own clothes, it became a little inconvenient. She supposed all great inventions came with some kind of sacrifice.

Her uncle had made the time machine as a gift when Mattie was born. Her parents, like any basic adults, assumed the wardrobe-sized box was simply a toy and had taken no interest in it. Mattie, from the age of about three when her curiosity had really set in, was the one who discovered that the machine was in fact a working portal and not just a children’s toy. Since then, she had been happily travelling time and space during the darkest hours of night.

(You may have entirely valid concerns about a three year old having full access to time travel - luckily, not just for Mattie’s safety but also that of the entire human race, her uncle had set what were effectively child locks on a lot of the controls. These were diminished the day that Mattie turned thirteen. Uncle Calvin had always been a little weird, but he certainly wasn’t heartless.)

Usually, Mattie’s time travel didn’t affect her life. Sure, it made for some pretty awkward conversations as Mattie spurted some knowledge which could never have been explained through a textbook, but those could often be blamed on watching too much Horrible Histories as a child (“Mattie, I swear to God, you’re so bageling British, and yet you’ve never been there, I don’t understand.” “Horrible Histories is a masterpiece! You’re just jealous that you’re too American to have seen it.” “Actual asshole of a child.” “Farrah-!”).

It was going well until Mattie’s freshman year at Giles Corey. And then three of her fellow highschoolers were murdered. And suddenly Mattie had a way to prevent that from happening.

In some stroke of luck, she passed out at the sleepover and didn’t find out about the murders until she was sitting in the back of a cop car, driving to her house to pick up her things. She remembered thinking how weird it was that she wasn’t being taken straight to the station, but brushed that away in favour of ‘going into her wardrobe to change out of her bloody clothes’.

The time machine was cold like it always was and that forced her out of her muddled state quickly enough. She thought back to the victims. Chess. Farrah. Clark. Snapping on her goggles, she pressed a button, whirled backwards through time and space, and appeared at the gate to Riley’s neighbour’s house.

She really wished that she had actually changed her outfit - the damp blood turned cold with the breeze and sent shivers up her spine. The smell perhaps or just her sudden appearance startled the neighbour’s dogs into a frenzy. A figure, Chess, unharmed and merely confused instead of terrified, stood up from Riley’s bench, calling into the darkness. Mattie’s breath caught in her throat. The second figure, knife glinting in the dim streetlight, slipped out of the back door. Their red hair shone in the reflection of the knife with a sick kind of beauty.

Mattie could have stopped them there, taken the knife from the assailant’s grasp, prevented the tragedy of the evening. But she didn’t. She just watched.

Three minutes later, after arriving back in her present time and pressing yet another button on the wall of her closet, she watched the same scene unfold in the bathroom with a much younger victim. Twenty minutes after that, the third attack. This one was different though, an accident.

Still a little desperate and overly conscious of the police officer standing guard outside of her bedroom, she reappeared in her wardrobe, putting on a jumper before turning back time a little further. She appeared in a gymnastics centre as a girl around Mattie’s age did wolf turns on a beam. A coach entered the scene from the sidelines as the girl stopped spinning, her distinctive plait falling still against her back. Something in Mattie ached at the sight of Chess so lively and innocent, willing to give up her life for her dream of succeeding in her sport. As the two wandered into a side room, picking up water with a smile, Mattie edged forwards, collecting soft gym mats as she went. Within minutes, the area surrounding the beam had been double layered with cushioning, and Mattie could only pray that her plan would work. She’d seen enough YouTube videos to know what happened next.

Chess emerged again with her coach, hopping back up onto the beam with practiced ease. Again, Mattie was forced to just watch as she went down into her wolf turn, then rose up, did a split leap across at least half of the beam, and jumped into a twist to land on the floor. It was a messy landing, the gymnast’s ankle caving in on itself, knee twisting unnaturally in the air, before coming down hard onto her side. But, unlike in the previous videos, there wasn’t a resounding crack, only a weak cry of pain as Chess stumbled back to her feet.

Mattie grinned despite herself as snippets of conversation drifted her way.

“-not broken, don’t worry-”

“The Olympics seem out of the picture…”

“Get her a drink to numb the pain! Yes, limeade’s perfect-!”

Mattie arrived in her room again with a whole plethora of new information just inserted into her mind like it had been there all along. There was no longer and never had been a police officer outside her door. Her shirt was clean, her head undamaged. Chess didn’t go to the Olympics, but still did gymnastics in her spare time as her knee made a full and quick recovery. Farrah wasn’t dropped. Riley, in some weird twist of fate, went to the same therapist as Mattie. Life was… good for the Giles Corey Tigers.

Across town, the sleepover was still going ahead as normal. From what weird memories she just gained, Mattie knew that the team was at a rocky patch, their personalities still clashing in any iteration of the evening. But, with some relief, she knew that it would never in this timeline be bad enough for murder to even be considered as an answer. Her phone buzzed. The lies came easily as she covered up her mysterious disappearance from the sleepover she should currently be at.

Reese (school): Where are you???

Mattieeeee: I went home :( not feeling good

Reese (school): :((( that sucks

Mattieeeee: Ikr. I think it was the ice cream.

Reese (school): I told the others

Reese (school): They all say get well soon apart from Kate and Cairo who actually agreed on something for once haha

Mattieeeee: What did they say skjghdjh

Reese (school): “Tolerate the lactose, Wheeler.”

In her short-but-actually-quite-long-given-all-the-time-travel life, Mattie had witnessed a number of key historic events (and had caused about 85% by some small accident, but that’s a story for another time). The one which ended up unveiling her secret to someone in her actual life occurred overnight one February. Or maybe July. Depends. Time is weird.

She stepped into a small room, luckily through the doorway and not awkwardly through the window, as done many times before. A man sat hunched over a desk by the window, dressed in brown and using a pen-but-not-really-a-pen to craft a page of writing. From Mattie’s extensive historical knowledge, it could have been anywhere from 1000 BC to the 16th century.

“Hello, excuse me,” she began, “But I’m a little lost.”

The man startled, his not-really-pen skidding across the page and leaving a trail of thick ink in its wake as he blinked at her in the doorway. “Who are you?” He seemed perplexed as to how a young girl was standing there, in the opening to his room, in clothing not of any time now or before.

Something that Mattie had realised after travelling not only to different times, but also to a vast number of different settings around the world, was that somehow, she was never stumped by a language barrier. Instead she was always able to fluently converse with those she met in what appeared to her as American English. It was really weird; she tried not to think about it too much or it made her head hurt. She’d also learnt that it was best not to explain her full situation to her companions, becoming accustomed to pulling the classic ‘I’m not here, you’re just dreaming’ excuse. So that was exactly the tactic she applied here. “A dream figure. You don’t need to be afraid.”

The man narrowed his eyes, glancing down at the paper and then back up to Mattie’s face. “That’s a good line.” He scribbled her words down onto a scrap piece of papyrus. “Maybe I can use that later.”

Mattie grinned, sensing her chance to fuck up history just a little bit. “What are you writing?”

“How the world came to be,” the man explained. “God.”

“Ah, of course. The Bible, huh?”

“Pardon?” The scribe locked eyes with Mattie for the first time, confusion etched clearly on his face. She shook her head in response, having learnt that it was hopeless trying to explain events of the future to people who could never even begin to imagine the future that she came from. Seemingly satisfied, the man continued. “As the vision you are, I wonder if you’ve been sent to answer my queries.”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

“I’m struggling for a name. Not for the book itself, but just for this chapter.”

Mattie smiled as wisely as she could. “What do you have so far?”

“‘Generational Crisis’. The chapter describes how our world came to be - the creation of natural elements, the first humans, the beginnings of emotion. ‘Generational’ as it shall be carried on for generations, and ‘crisis’ as it’s a huge event, a crisis for the higher powers.”

Mattie choked. Her mind imagined a world where the entry chapter to the Bible was named as so, and it was a world of chaos and highly differing language choices. “That is very wise, sir. I have one suggestion: how about shortening it? Make it snappier, more catchy. I’m thinking…” She paused, feigning deep thought, “‘Genesis.’”

The man gasped, scrawling her word down at the top of the papyrus. “Genius! Thank you, child. I should write your name in my finished book, to show my gratitude for your kindness.”

“Mattie, sir, Mattie Wheeler. It’s been lovely to meet you and see your studies.” Over the centuries, Mattie had learnt to leave those she met with some kind of reassurance as the humane aspect of her hobby. “Before I go, I may be a dream spirit, but I can assure you that the work you have done right now shall be greatly appreciated for thousands of years to come.”

“You really are a wonder, perhaps a child sent from the power above.”

Unthinking, she snorted, replying, “Oh, boy, you are not ready to hear about Jesus.”

“Jesus? You mean my sister’s husband? I do hear some curious rumours about the man…”

Mattie hid her laugh behind a hand. Of course, this was hundreds of years before Jesus Christ came to be thought of. “I know, right? Jesus? More like JeSUS.” The scribe didn’t reply, mind clearly tired of its confusion and instead turning back to something it knew well. He picked up his writing patterns again. Mattie turned away, back to the doorway. “I will leave you to your writing again. Sleep well.” Leaving a small vial of dissolved sleeping pills on the desk, she stepped out of the door.

The only class that Mattie knew she would see Eva in was Religion. They didn’t actually share the class, but Mattie’s Religion teacher was Eva’s form tutor and the older girl often used the classroom as a quieter study area for her free period. Not that Mattie would call a class of thirty sophomores particularly peaceful, but apparently she hadn’t heard the noise of the senior study area, you genuinely don’t understand, last week Jacob Thomas tried to make toast using the sun on a desk and then, bam, the entire of senior year are creating chants about sun bread, it was so weird, Mattie, I transferred to a school of crackheads.

After her travel to the 7th century AD, Mattie sparked a sudden interest in her Religion classes. Eva, being the older sister that she was, watched closely as the sophomore stayed behind after class to search the Bible for something in particular.

“What’re you looking for?”

“Nothing!” Mattie didn’t look up from fervently turning the pages.

“Well, that’s a fucking lie.” Eva perched on the side of a desk, sliding across to snatch the book out of the younger girl’s hands. “Why the hell are you looking at what is essentially the movie credits for the Bible???”

Eva watched as Mattie bit her lip, eyes darting around the empty classroom. She thought for a long moment, visibly debating points in her head, before leaning over the top of the book to run her finger down a list of names. About a third of the way down the page, she stopped. Eva’s eyes followed her finger as it drew a circle around a certain name. Matte Wheyler

“See. I was looking for that.”

Eva didn’t say anything for a while. Mattie waited with baited breath as Eva’s brain tried to make sense of what they saw. “Mattie Wheeler, what the bagel.” It didn’t bother to even be a question.

“It’s a really long story.” Mattie slumped onto the desk as well. “Hey, did you know that ‘Genesis’ would have originally been called ‘Generational Crisis’ if it wasn’t for me?”

After a glance at both of their timetables, they decided that their next lessons (biology and latin respectively) were worth missing. Instead, they stayed seated on a desk in the Religion classroom, as Mattie explained in detail how her name came to be in the Bible. It was refreshing to finally spill her secret after fifteen years of complete silence, and Mattie wondered vaguely in the back of her mind if one day Eva might be able to share in her time travelling adventures. That might take a little more explaining though, because Eva sure did have a lot of questions.

“So, you don’t change anything?”

“Not anything major. Like, I can’t stop Hitler or anything, that would change too big an event. Little things, however, like names and stuff, it’s fun to mess around with. Ever wondered why the Italian city, Pisa, has its name? I delivered pizza to the guys who were kind of like the government at the time of its naming. Hence, the Leaning Tower of Pizza.”

Eva cackled. “Wait, what?! God, dude, that’s nuts. What the fuck.”

“What can I say, all I really want in life is a little bit of chaos and also mozzarella sticks.”

Mattieeeee sent a photo.

evanescence: is that??? abraham lincoln????

Mattieeeee: Abraham Lincoln was an otter.

evanescence: how so?

Mattieeeee: Point one: look at him.

Mattieeeee: Point two: no seriously. Look at him.

evanescence: oh my god

evanescence: i cannot believe you have a literal selfie with abraham lincoln that’s fucking wild

Mattieeeee: Perks of the job :D

evanescence: literally hire me i want a selfie with cleopatra

farrah o’satanic ritual: yall i got out of the shower like an hour ago and i still haven’t changed

Imposter: What can I say, bath robes are in fashion rn

farrah o’satanic ritual: ive told you before clark stop pretending you know how to dress

Mattieeeee: Farrah did you not die in the shower?

katherine: ????mattie???????

farrah o’satanic ritual: no?? i didn’t

SmileyRiley: dang it

katherine: riLEY-

caicrow: riley i thought we’d moved on from murder

Imposter: Plot twist: Mattie was the murderer all along

katherine: CLARK-

Mattieeeee: oops-

It wasn't meant to happen, she swore up and down it was a mistake. A true and honest accident. And it kinda was? I mean Mattie hadn’t intended for the scaffolding on the new tower being constructed in Pisa to wobble, she’d already fucked up Pisa once in her career, but… Well, that's what she got for letting loose Giles and Corey (her occasional time travelling companions, who also happened to be cats) in the middle of a Italian city in 1252. She could have sworn the catnip was safely concealed in one of the pockets inside her jacket (which was filled with all sorts of trinkets from her travels in the space-time continuum), yet somehow the two had still gotten into it. She guessed that's what she got for not hydrating-feel-greating and eating-to-defeating.

An old citizen eyed her suspiciously, taking in her struggle with the two cats. Or maybe she was just more focused on Mattie’s goggles - she doubted anyone in 13th century Pisa had seen such a bold fashion statement before. The tower continued to lean in the background.

Finally, Giles and Corey settled down, each in a pocket of her trench coat. Mattie breathed a sigh of relief, which only got halfway out of her before she was sucking it back in as the old lady from across the street began to approach her.

“Young lady.”

Mattie smiled sheepishly. “Hello, ma’am. Is everything alright?”

The lady looked mildly amused. “I couldn’t help but notice your two cats going mysteriously close to the tower before it started collapsing. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. My cats are very well behaved.” Giles gave a resounding yelp at exactly the wrong time. A hiss from Corey echoed from the opposite pocket.

“Well,” the lady grinned, “If that’s the case, why don’t you leave the animals with me? You seem fairly preoccupied with the tower - perhaps you can try and assist its reconstruction?” She held out a hand.

Mattie thought for a moment and then handed across the two cats. “Thank you ever so much, ma’am. I’ll try and be quick.” The woman nodded and Mattie sped across the square to the drastically swaying tower.

When she arrived back at the woman’s table, there was a second lady in animated conversation with her. As Mattie approached, she stood up to take her leave, pressing a kiss to the first lady’s hair as she left. Something was definitely fruity there.

“All fixed!”

“I’m glad.” The woman nudged the cats back to their owner, looking intensely over Mattie’s shoulder to the stabilised tower. “It certainly looks sturdier.”

“I should hope so.”

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes,” she said, staring pointedly at an area on the structure, “I think about crabs.”

“Oh?” Mattie tilted her head. “Do you?”

“Yes. And often when I think about crabs, I think that they shouldn’t be in Pisa, and they most definitely should not be crawling over the tower.”

Mattie gasped and followed her gaze, muttering curses under her breath. “I didn’t realise I’d brought a whole crab with me! I thought I’d taken the sea life off the rocks!”

The woman chuckled. “You seem to be a strange character. Child, where on Earth did you find not only rocks large enough to support a tower, but also a live crab in Pisa?”

Accepting her fate, Mattie decided to tell the truth. “They’re from Egypt.” At the woman’s questioning look, she expanded, “I’m a traveller of sorts.”

“Oh. Well, child, you’re a gift of a traveller. Brightened my day. Italy these days is far too serious. Maybe we should put more crabs on the leaning tower, huh?”

Tucking her cats back into their respective pockets, Mattie allowed herself to laugh. “Maybe we should.” With a nod and a smile, she wandered off, eagerly awaiting her portal.

“Why were you in Egypt anyway?” Eva asked as Mattie recounted yet another of her time-travel-gone-wrong experiences.

“Library of Alexandria.”

“Oh, yeah, because that explains so much.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes. “It was 48 BC, Caesar was burning shit, this random Roman dude set fire to the library.” She pulled a book out of her backpack. “I saved this and stashed away a few of the slabs of rock. And apparently a crab.”

Eva took the book in awe. “Jesus Christ… This thing is, like, thousands of years old…”

“I know, right? Weird.” She watched as Eva flicked through the pages, tracing her finger over certain words or illustrations. “But it was such a beautiful library, I couldn’t let it just burn. So, I retaliated. Burnt the house of the soldier who set the original flame.”

“Mattie!”

She shrugged. “Setting someone’s house on fire is a survival skill.”

“Oh my God.”

“I would have done something more dramatic, but I had to get home. I had a cake which would need to come out of the oven.”

Eva laughed, the sound echoing around the empty classroom. They were skiving class again, this time PE, the one class they had which coincidentally fell at the same time for both year groups. “How are you so normal in school, but so badass when you time travel?”

“I dunno. All I can say is that cake and spite are my only motivators.”

“You’re like a superhero. ‘Time Travelling Mattie: The Only One Who Can Lead A Dual Life Successfully’!!!”

Mattie blushed, shrugging. She definitely needed to take Eva with her one day. A superhero duo. “Okay, that name needs some work. How about: ‘Sanchez And Wheeler, The Ultimate Time Travelling Duo’?”

“I think I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?”

Eva nodded, shaking her hand like they were signing a business contract. “Yeah.”

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osakaso5 · 3 years

Text

La Danse Macabre

Episode 40-2: Unheard Voices, Delivered Voices

Chapter Index

Three Years Later

Cura: Uuuugh!!!

Cura: Damn, I'm tired! These fights just won't end.

Rebellion Fighter: C'mon, Cura, there's no need to get mad.

Cura: I know. I just wish we had more people around here.

Cura: Nerve's been acting real suspicious lately. I have no idea what they're planning.

[Door opens]

Reue: Yawn... Now that was a good nap.

Cura: ........

Reue: Lately, I've been feeling just awful right before and after waking up. Maybe my age is starting to get the best of me.

Rebellion Fighter: G-good morning, sir.

Reue: Mornin'.

Cura: You DO realize that you're technically our second highest ranking member?

Reue: Well, if it isn't Mr. Top Dog. Hard at work as always, I see.

Cura: You should give working a chance yourself, Reue.

Reue: No thanks~. Libel promised me a job that requires as little effort as possible.

Cura: Ugh... You mean the asshole who went and died, right after making promises he didn't have to keep..?

Reue: Hahaha, you're such a jokester.

Rebellion Fighter: Cura! The transportation team from District 4 has run into a Unity Order patrol! They're requesting immediate backup!

Cura: What, seriously? Let's get 'em on the monitor.

Cura: This looks bad... Do we have any free squads nearby..?

Reue: Ah, I think we've got it covered.

Cura: Huh?

Reue: I thought this might happen, so I already sent over a certain someone.

- - - -

Unity Order Troop: For the Church of Nerve... For Master Misericorde...

Rebellion Fighter: Crap... They've got us surrounded...

Unity Order Troop: For the Church of Nerve... For Master Misericorde...

Rebellion Fighter: I've sent an emergency signal to the base! But...

Rebellion Fighter: I don't think we're gonna make it...

Leiden: Hold up!!!

Rebellion Fighters: ......!?

Leiden: I came to save your asses!

Rebellion Fighter: ...Leiden!

Unity Order Troop: That's...

Unity Order Troop: One of the traitors...

Leiden: Hmm.

Leiden: ...Traitor, huh? Sure, I guess I am...

Leiden: And that's just fine by me. I've really thought this through, even with my empty head.

Unity Order Troop: Stay on guard...

Unity Order Troop: We all strike at the same time..! For the Church of Nerve!

Leiden: Yeah, come at me! I fight for myself!

Leiden: Because I'm Rebellion's Leiden!

Leiden: Don't you forget that!!!

- - - -

Cura: Oh, Leiden's going there. That's a relief...

Reue: Isn't it?

Cura: Fine, I guess you helped. ...But could you at least let me know when you send out more troops?

Reue: Hahaha. When I notice an oversight in your orders, I can't help but want to fix it.

Cura: You sly old man...

Reue: Come to think of it, it's been around three years since Eternea died and Misericorde took over as the ruler of the church.

Reue: And because of Misericorde, the Unity Order is even more deeply tied to the church now.

Reue: Eternea must've been holding the church back.

Reue: The current Ark follows Misericorde's orders like a hive mind.

Reue: It'll be tough to bring them down. They've never been quite this fanatical before.

Cura: Yeah, they may not have a Celestial right now, but there's still an obvious gap between our technology and theirs.

Cura: Geez... It's gonna be a while before we overthrow them...

Reue: But we'll do it anyway, won't we? Create a world without Celestials.

Cura: Yep, that's what Libel would've wanted. And I decided to stick by him when we were both kids.

Reue: ...You've been doing well. The Surface's forces are concentrated around Rebellion more and more these days.

Reue: We've gotten new members too, haven't we? I'd say you've achieved more than plenty, for such a young man.

Cura: This much is nothing. I'm not nearly as charismatic as our old leader.

Reue: You're too humble. The world is already changing, and I'm sure it's for the better.

Cura: I sure hope so. Especially for all those of us who died for this change.

Horca: Hey... it's not healthy to let yourself be tied down by dead people. We're here for the living.

Reue: Oh, you came to visit, Mr. Merchant?

Cura: Done with your negotiations?

Horca: Yep, thanks so much. I'll be on my way now.

Cura: You're not ripping us off, are you?

Horca: ...Maybe I am, maybe not. Have a little faith in your subordinates, will you.

Cura: Well, for an old enemy, you sure have been a reliable business partner.

Reue: Right. I hear you even trade with Nerve these days.

Horca: I don't give a damn about the past. I'm just doing whatever I can to live a fun, free life.

Horca: I don't wanna hold myself back. That's not why I was born into this world, nor is it why I've survived this far.

Cura: ...I guess that's the life for you, then.

Horca: You guys have nothing to worry about. My motto is to sell everything at the same price, no matter who's buying.

Horca: I'm not making favors to any side. If I did, my old friends would just laugh at me.

Horca: ...I guess I'm tied down by the dead in my own way, too.

Cura: ...Nah. Neither of us are being tied down.

Cura: I'm doing this for Libel and Fuga because I want to.

Horca: ...That so. Well, either way, I’m looking forward to this new world of yours.

Horca: Make sure that it’s a place where even people like my old crew can live.

Reue: ...Haha. Everyone's put their expectations on you.

Cura: What a pain. It's not like I asked for any of this.

Reue: It's the duty of those of us who lived.

Cura: ........

Cura: Oh, it's almost time. ...Get ready, people.

Reue: Oh, it is? I've been waiting for this.

Cura: Yeah, you better have. The kid's our ray of hope.

- - - -

Qual: Arme. It's almost time. Are you good to go?

Arme: Yes, Qual. I'm ready.

Qual: ...You're not lonely? You haven't been around other people for quite the while now.

Arme: Hm? I'm fine. I have you... And Kabane and the others come see me every now and then.

Arme: Hmm, though I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel even a little bit lonely...

Arme: Cura and his troops are fighting their own fight, and I'm fighting mine.

Qual: I see...

Arme: For as long as I live, a new Celestial can't be born.

Arme: That grants Rebellion more than enough time to win us the world Libel longed for.

Qual: You've grown so strong.

Arme: Strong...

Arme: Qual, listen to me. I've decided something.

Arme: I want to help everyone live their lives.

Arme: However, I can't reach out to or help them in person.

Arme: Still, there may be those who would gain courage from me, even from afar.

Qual: ...Right, living on the Surface has made one thing very clear to me. Those who live in this world need something to believe in.

Qual: The Surface is free. And that's why its people are afraid. They're anxious about the path they've chosen.

Qual: We could all use something to light up that path.

Arme: Right...

Arme: Libel said I'd bring everyone hope.

Qual: Yes, he did...

Arme: I was the Celestial. The symbol of everyone's faith. But no one saw me for who I truly am.

Arme: ...The truth is, I'm completely useless. I'm weak, cowardly, naive, and not very good at reading social situations, or so I’ve been told.

Arme: Which is why I'm not fit to lead a religion. I'm not some perfect idol.

Arme: I need others to help me. I need others to keep me from feeling down.

Arme: And in turn, I'll do whatever I can for them.

Arme: Anything to help others live their life to the fullest.

Arme: I want to be the light that shines upon this world.

[Beep]

Cura: Arme, you ready? I'm jacking into the Surface's radio signal. We’re counting on you, as usual...

Arme: Yes, I'm ready as can be.

Cura: People were pretty suspicious about this at first, but you've gained kind of a fanbase as of late.

Arme: Ooh, really!?

Arme: Actually, I was thinking of learning how to sing and dance.

Cura: Hahaha, sounds good to me. I'm sure everyone will love it.

Cura: ...Just do your best, kid. And...

Cura: Make sure you enjoy this more than anyone else, alright?

Arme: Yes, I will! I'll have so much fun!

- - - -

Horca: ...Doing it because you want to, huh.

Horca: Ugh, Cura's starting to rub off on me. And so, here I am... Visiting a grave.

Horca: ...It's my first time coming here since I left.

Horca: The Underworld... It really isn't a big deal at all. Just a huge, dumb hole.

Horca: ........

Horca: Ah. Vida, Placer. Is it okay if I just... pretend you're in there?

Horca: I...

Horca: Wanted to apologize. For not coming here sooner.

Horca: All I ever did was make fun of you for being bound to the dead.

Horca: ...But I was wrong. It's not a bad thing that I keep you guys in my memories.

Horca: It's not wrong of me to do something I think would make you happy.

Horca: ...Then again, I can't hear the dead.

Horca: You guys won't mind if I just assume you're happy that I'm still alive, will you?

Horca: ........

Horca: ...Well, you'd better not.

Horca: One of the perks to being alive is I get to pretend your souls in the afterlife agree with everything I do.

Horca: Hah... And if that's a problem, you'll just have to speak up.

[Bzzt]

Arme: Ah, ah.

Horca: Uagh!?

Horca: That scared the crap out of me... I really thought the dead were gonna talk for a second...

Horca: Huh? There's something coming from my transmitter..? Who is that..?

Arme: Cura? Can they hear me yet?

Horca: Whuh?

- - - -

Arme: Ah, ah. Testing, testing.

Konoe: Oh, I've got a signal! It's starting, Master Kuon!

Kuon: Ah, how exciting.

Konoe: Kabane! Come over and listen with us!

Kabane: ...No. I can hear just fine from where I am.

Konoe: Darn!

Konoe: He's still acting distant... I thought you finally made up, after all these years?

Kuon: Ahaha. Kabane still has some trouble being around me.

Kuon: ...But he can take his time changing. We have an eternity ahead of us, after all.

- - - -

Arme: Ahem.

Arme: All of you living your lives on the Surface, can you hear me?

Arme: My name is Arme.

Arme: Today, well...

Arme: Why don't I tell you how I met a dear friend, who changed my life?

The End.

#idolish7 #la danse macabre #translation #event story

43 notes · View notes

walkerwords · 4 years

Text

“Moment of Clarity” Rick Grimes x F!Reader

Summary: After arriving in Alexandria, Rick is on edge. The two of you had been together since the fall of the prison and after noticing his stressed demeanor, you decide to steal him away for a bit to try to see what is going on inside that head of his.

Word Count: 3958

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “So Will I” by Ben Platt

Note: Set pre-negan, I just really wanted to write a cute little moment with Rick. I realized I don’t write him enough, but complain that there aren’t enough rick imagines so here ya go! NOTE: this is only a one-shot.

----------

Alexandria was a lot more than you had expected.

Since the only experience you and the rest of the group had when it came to “communities” were Woodbury and the nightmare that was Terminus, everyone was on edge.

You had been with the group since Atlanta and you and Rick had only grown closer since the day he stepped out of that truck and took Carl into his arms. Your romantic relationship with the former deputy had began on the road after the fall of the prison. You were worried about sharing your feelings with him because of what had happened to Lori, but the two of you just...fit and everyone else had seen it too.

When Rick had first kissed you, it had taken you by surprise. You, Michonne, Carl, and Rick had been hiding out in a house when you had broken down in a spare room after everything had happened. Rick had found you and calmed you down and took you into his arms. As soon as you stopped crying, you pulled out of his embrace and then, without warning, Rick had taken your face in his hands and kissed you, pulling him against his chest.

It was after that moment that you knew you were his forever. After Terminus, when you had seen him running from the slaughterhouse. You had run to him and you swore then that you’d never leave him again.

Finding Alexandria had seemed like a dream. You hadn’t felt this safe and secure since the prison. Not to mention the reality that the safe zone was so...normal.

The leader, Deanna, had welcomed you and your band of misfits easily. When she had interviewed you, you had Judith with you, giving her dad a break. You kept the child close to your chest as if shielding her from the stranger before her. Deanna had asked you routine questions and then eventually had you ask Daryl to join her.

As you passed Dixon outside, he had pressed a kiss to Judith’s brow before entering the house and the sight alone had brought a warm smile to Rick’s worried face because he knew that no matter what happened next, his family would remain by his side.

You assured him that night that he was right and that if he needed them to, you, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, and the others would by his side when something went wrong or if Alexandria was not what it seemed. And so far, you had kept that promise.

You lay alone in the bed you shared with Rick. His constable uniform was draped over the chair in the corner and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of the first time you saw him in it. Michonne and Rick were natural-born leaders, but there was something so odd about seeing them in a uniform like this.

They were warriors and while you knew Rick was glad to always help people, he had admitted to you last night that he was feeling like a fraud with the jacket on. You understood that. It had been a long time since he wore a uniform, since he had held any authority that he didn’t have to take for himself.

Rick was the best leader any of you could have asked for, but you knew it weighed on him heavily. Especially after losing people like Lori, Shane, and more recently with Tyreese and Beth. However, he did seem to forget that nobody expected him to be perfect, not even you or his children. You were hoping to make him see that which is how you found yourself planning to steal him away for the day.

Getting out of bed, you got ready for the day. Deanna still had your guns, but she still allowed you to carry your knives. As you strapped them to your thighs, you headed downstairs.

Carl and Judith were at the table with Michonne. You ruffled Carl’s hair and kissed the top of Judith’s head. “Good morning,” you greeted.

“Sleep well?” Michonne asked. You nodded, taking a seat next to her and grabbing some bread off the table. Olivia had brought some over the night before.

“Better than I have in weeks. I think my body has finally realized a Walker isn’t waiting in my closet,” you said. Michonne laughed.

“I hear that,” she said. “I guess we all have some adjusting to do.”

“I keep forgetting we’re not still on the road,” Carl admitted, leaning back in his own seat. “Do you think we’ll be able to stay?”

“I don’t see why not, but we never know, Carl,” you said and he nodded.

“I know, I’m just tired of running.”

“Me too, kid,” you told him honestly. Carl was one of the only people who knew you as well as his dad did. He had to grow up very fast after the Turn and then when Lori died, he developed steel-like skin and never looked back. At times, it was hard to remember he was still just a teenager.

“Do you have any plans today?” Michonne asked.

“I was thinking of looking around some more,” you said with a shrug. “Do you know where your dad is, Carl?”

“He went to talk to Deanna early this morning. He said he didn’t want to wake you,” Carl said. You smiled slightly. Even in the Apocalypse, Rick Grimes was still a gentleman. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“Ah, don’t worry. I’ll find him,” you said, getting to your feet. “Be good for your brother, little one,” you said to Judith as she wrapped her little hand around your finger. Your heart melted at the action and gave her another kiss before waving to the others and heading out your door.

The rest of Alexandria was waking up for the day and your new neighbors waved to you. You awkwardly waved back, but kept your focus on your search for your boyfriend. Walking down the main road, you scanned the many houses.

Carol was speaking to Olivia on her porch as she fiddled with the cardigan around her shoulders. You and Daryl had both scoffed when you had seen her trying to play Martha Stewart. You knew why she was doing it, but it was too alien to see a woman like her so...clean.

Speaking of Daryl, he was once again in Aaron’s garage, the door open, as he worked on his new bike. “She’s looking good,” you said, approaching him. Daryl looked up at you, a screwdriver locked between his teeth. He grunted in greeting. “How long till she’s up and running?”

“Not much longer,” he said, taking the tool from his mouth. “Ya want first ride?”

“Obviously,” you said with a bright smile. Daryl rolled his eyes, but you could see the small smile on his face. “You seen Rick?” He nodded, pointing down the road.

“He and Glenn are down by the gate. He’s tryin’ to convince the Monroe moron that we need more watch points,” Daryl explained.

“How do you think that’s goin’?”

“Like I said, he’s a moron,” Daryl said with a scoff.

“Fair enough.” You knew he didn’t like Spencer. Hell, nobody did, but he was Deanna’s son and you all had to get along with him. Except for Daryl. He had nearly sucker-punched the guy a day earlier when he tried to make unwanted advances on Tara which were obviously futile. Spencer backed off immediately, but then and there was when Daryl labeled himself as the group’s main protector and nobody argued with him.

“Ya alright?” Daryl asked, wiping the grease from his hands as he stood.

“Fine, why?”

“Dunno, ya got that look on yer face,” he said, flicking the hair out of his eyes.

“What look?”

“The look that means yer up to somethin’,” he teased.

“So, my usual face?”

“Exactly,” he said and you bumped his shoulder.

“Asshole,” you muttered. “I’m gonna go meet up with Grimes.”

“I’ll come with, I gotta talk to Glenn,” he said as he followed you. Your friendship with Daryl was something you cherished deeply. He had had your back since the quarry. His brother, Merle, had liked you too and since losing the older Dixon, the two of you had naturally gravitated towards one another.

Walking down the street with him, however, felt...odd. It felt like something out of a bad movie. Two people who had seen enough horror to last a lifetime walking down a road with manicured lawns and laughing children seemed like some kind of long-winded joke.

“Judith was restless last night,” Daryl said suddenly.

“Yeah, makes sense. New place and all. She’s never actually been in a proper house now that I think about it.”

“This place is good for her,” he said. “She and Carl need it.”

“Then let’s try to make it work, okay?” Daryl nodded, chewing on his thumb. Something he had made a habit of. It drove you crazy, but you had come to accept his odd quirks.

As you arrived at the gate, you could practically feel the tension rolling off both Rick and Glenn as they stared at Spencer. Nicholas stood behind his friend glaring down Glenn and you knew it was only a matter of time before those two got into it again.

“We’re not a military base, Grimes,” Spencer was saying as you and Daryl grew closer.

“No, you’re just an idiot,” Glenn said with a smile and Daryl snorted next to you, grabbing the others’ attention.

“Alright,” you interjected, “break it up boys. I think there is enough hostility in this world already.” As soon as Rick saw you, he visibly relaxed. Spencer took a few steps back as you walked up to Rick and he opened his arm to you. “Hey, you.”

“Hey yourself,” Rick murmured. You looked back at Spencer and Nicholas.

“I’m stealing him away for a bit, try not to need anything,” you said as you tugged him towards the gate.

“What are you up to?” Rick asked, letting you lead him away. From the back of your jeans, you produced his colt and offered it to him.

“I grabbed this on my way to see Daryl,” you said. “Are you up for a walk?” Rick took the gun and holstered it before glancing up at the walls and then back at you. You knew he was feeling claustrophobic and a smile slowly spread across his scruffy face.

“Absolutely,” he said, turning to Daryl. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

“Alright,” Daryl said with a nod. Spencer and Nicholas watched as you took Rick’s hand and led him out of Alexandria, Glenn locking up behind you.

“Where are they going?” Spencer asked.

“Out,” Daryl said with a shrug.

“It’s not exactly safe…” Nicholas added. Daryl just stared at them for a moment.

“They have weapons, they’ll be fine,” he said before turning and walking over to Glenn. “Idiots,” he said as he met Glenn on the way back up the road. Glenn laughed and grabbed Daryl’s shoulder.

“See, this is why we’re friends,” Glenn said. Daryl rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

————

In the hot Virginian sun, you and Rick walked the perimeter around Alexandria.

Taking his hand in yours, you let them swing between you as you kicked at the dry leaves that littered the forest floor. “You know,” you began, “I checked on Carl last night before I went to bed and it was so weird to see him tucked into an actual bed.” Rick chuckled, nodding his head.

“I thought the same thing that first night. I hadn’t seen him that comfortable since this whole thing began,” Rick said.

“Well, Alexandria is secure, Rick,” you said, “It’s about damn time he’s felt safe. Noah and Judith too. The prison, while it was safe, there was always the threat of the Walkers breaking down the fence and of course, the Governor. After all the time on the road, they deserve a bit of normalcy.”

“Normal, right,” Rick laughed. You rolled your eyes, knocking his shoulder with yours.

“Okay, smart-ass. As normal as we can give them,” you said. Rick smiled at you, but then his face fell back to his usual worried expression. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” you asked.

“I just sometimes think this place, these people,” he said, “it’s just a bit too good to be true.” You nodded, understanding completely. Everyone in your group had been skeptic from the moment Aaron had brought you in. It felt like slipping into a Twilight Zone episode.

Oddly, Michonne was the one that was urging everyone to give Deanna and her community a chance, and considering she had immediately seen what Woodbury was from the start, you trusted her judgment. However, you knew that Rick still had his concerns.

“Are you thinking about leaving?” you asked and your tone wasn’t accusatory or filled with malice. You were genuinely curious about where his head was at right now. Rick mulled over your words for a few moments before shaking his head.

“No, but I can’t think of letting my guard down. A place like this can fall at any moment and if it does, we need to be gone before that can happen,” he explained. Rick’s thumb began creating circles over the back of your hand as you walked.

“I know you’re worried,” you said, “and I hope you know that if it ever came to that, that I would be by your side. I’d go with you without question.” Rick smiled over at you and then pulled you into his side.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispered in your ear.

“The world ended, baby,” you told him with a wink. Rick chuckled and kissed the side of your head. “And whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me, Grimes.”

“I got no issue with that, (Y/N),” he said.

“But you still have concerns,” you said. It wasn’t a question. Whether he realized it or not, you could read him like a book no matter what. “Our people are going to be fine. You have to give them more credit.”

“They aren’t who I’m worried about,” he revealed.

“Then what is it, Rick?” you asked, pulling him to a stop. He sighed, glancing around at the trees as if he could see the answer between their trunks.

“What if…,” he trailed off, trying to collect his thoughts. You waited patiently. “What if I lose myself again? After Shane and then Lori… Our family needs me now more than ever and what if I can’t handle it?”

“That’s not going to happen, Rick,” you said. “And if does? We’ll handle it. Nobody expects you to be perfect all the time. We’ve all seen what this world has done to people. It has taken something from all of us, but we’ve always come back. Hell, we know loss too well.”

“I feel like I’m not doin’ enough,” he admitted.

“It’s all in your head,” you assured him. “I know none of this has been easy, but I am not going anywhere. Do you hear me?” Taking his face in your hands, you made him look you in the eyes. “I’m. Right. Here.” Rick nodded and leans his forehead against yours.

“I know,” he whispered. “This place is going to need a lot of work, (Y/N). We need to teach them how to survive or more people are going to die. And if we can’t? I don’t know how I’m going to keep them safe. I failed too many of us already.”

“Is this about Beth?” you asked. Rick’s eyes fell close at her name. Beth’s death had affected all of you. Maggie, Rick, and Daryl had taken it particularly hard. You knew Rick had seen Beth as his responsibility for a while now. They had grown closer since he had saved her father from the Walker bite.

Rick hadn’t hesitated when Daryl had located the youngest Greene at Grady. He had done everything he could to get her back. You still remember the relief on his face when Dawn had let her go and he took her in his arm and kissed her head. Then everything had gone wrong with the exchange and you had to watch as Daryl nearly shattered right then and there in that hallway. “It wasn’t your fault, Rick,” you said softly.

“I should have… I should have never trusted the deal. We should have gone in there fully armed and taken her back. I told Daryl and Maggie that I would bring her back to them.”

“Nobody could have predicted what happened to her,” you said. “Beth was as strong as anyone I knew and I miss her with everything I have, but her death was not your fault.”

“He cared about her,” Rick said and you knew he was talking about Daryl.

“I know.” Rick leaned heavily on you as you ran your hands down his back. “You can’t carry the weight of everyone’s pain on your shoulders, Rick.” He pulled back and looked down at you, scanning your face with adoration in his eyes.

“You always do know the right things to say, beautiful,” he whispered. You smiled up at him, letting your hands trail down his neck. He glanced at your lips, but before you could pull him to you, groans reached your ears. Rick sighed. “Never a good moment, huh?” he asked as he stepped back and pulled his knife from his belt as the Walkers stumbled towards you.

“Wouldn’t be a good date without Walkers,” you joked, unsheathing your own weapons.

“Is that what this is? A date?” he asked, with a slight chuckle.

“What can I say? I’ll take what I can get,” you said before going after the Walker closest to you. It lunged at you, but you were faster, driving your blade into its skull before it could grab hold of your arm. Rick was taking out two on your left as you kicked out at the one that snuck up on your right. It fell to the ground and you drove your knife between its eyes.

Rick shouted behind you as he fell to the ground with a large Walker falling on top of him. You ran over and tackled the creature, rolling it off of Grimes. It snapped its jaws at you but you jammed your knife into its mouth, cutting through the rotten pallet. Black blood dripped onto your face as you shoved it off of you. “Ugh!” you groaned as you sat up.

“Are you okay?” he asked. You nodded, trying to wipe the thick substance from your face. “Here,” he said, offering his hand. Rick helped you up and examined your face, trying not to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” you said with a scowl.

“No, no, definitely not,” he said as he took the canteen that hung around his shoulder. “Head back.” You tilted your chin to the sky as he poured cool water on your face, rinsing the foul blood from your skin. “Thanks for the save.”

“And look what I got for it,” you said with a pout. Rick used his sleeve to wipe the blood from your face and then rinsed your hair out as well.

“Not really how I imagined washing your hair,” he said in a low voice.

“I’m sure we can do something about that later,” you said as you shook out your hair and looked up at him. He was still trying not to laugh and eventually you gave in, laughing along with him. “Okay, maybe it’s a bit funny.” Rick began laughing louder as he slung the canteen back over his back. Taking you in his arms, he smoothed your hair from your face and tilted your chin up.

“It’s very funny,” he said as he leaned in and kissed you softly. You melted into the kiss, clutching at his wrinkled shirt. Even with the many corpses that surrounded you, you never felt happier than when you were in his arms. Rick’s hand cupped your jaw as he kissed you deeper, sighing between your lips.

When he pulled back, he slid his hands down to your sides and began swaying back and forth. “What are you doing?’ you asked.

“Dancing with you,” he said with a smile.

“You’re insane, you know that?” you asked, but rolled your hands over his shoulders and played along.

“I know.” He leaned his head on top of yours as you swayed. Dropping your head to his shoulder, you breathed him in. You never thought that you would ever have this, have something like him and every moment you spent together, it made you feel whole.

Rick took hold of your arm and spun you out only to spin you back into his chest. You giggled as he took hold of you again. “Only you would want to dance in the middle of woods surrounded by dead Walkers.”

“Don’t act so surprised, (Y/N). You knew what you were getting into when you kissed me the first time.”

“Actually, you kissed me.”

“Did I? Huh,” Rick said with a cheeky smile. “That makes sense, I always was a good judge of character.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Grimes,” you said, tapping his nose playfully. Suddenly, his expression turned serious again.

“I should have told you before, (Y/N),” Rick said, tilting his head and sliding his hand up to caress your cheek.

“What?” you asked.

“I love you,” he said softly. As soon as the words left his lips, you were near to tears. You had waited for him to say those three words for a while now. You had wanted to say it first, but you didn’t think he was ready yet and you didn’t want to push him. “I love you so much.”

You took his face in your hands as well and as a tear rolled from your eye, you smiled. “I love you, Rick Grimes. I have for a long while.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” he said.

“Don’t apologize,” you whispered, “but say it again.” Rick grinned at you.

“I love you,” he said with a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.” He kissed your cheek. “I. Love. You,” he said as he placed a firm kiss on your lips. You threw your arms around him as he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he backed you up to a tree. He kissed you fiercely, trailing kisses down your neck and back up. He made the circle three times before you were breathless.

“I hope this means we can make this work,” you said as he peered up at you.

“I think we can,” he said. “And like you said, we’re stuck with each other now.”

“No going back,” you promised.

“No going back,” he repeated. You leaned down and kissed his softly, just the slightest pressure on his lips.

“You know,” you whispered, “I kind of miss the beard.” Rick let out a laugh as he grabbed you around the waist and threw you over his shoulder. “Rick!” you yelled out as he gripped the back of your legs.

“I think I’m going to want that shower now,” he said with a grin. You laughed at that, running your nails down his back. “Come on, beautiful, let’s go home.”

Rick set you down and took you by the hand and together, you headed back to Alexandria with a new outlook on your future. Because no matter what happened next, you would face it together with your family behind you. Always.

TAGS: @felicisimor @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner

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thetriggeredhappy · 4 years

Note

I love your idea of scout bein born early. Would it be too much trouble for you to write abt him bein in the hospital? And maybe possibly spy findin out?

this feels like a slightly different angle than the prompt, anon, but in my defense that’s what always happens

(warnings for alcohol mention, non-graphic injury and briefly being in a hospital)

The phone rang three times before it was picked up, and Scout used all three of those rings to try and get his story straight in his head. Then it was picked up and a familiar and very pleasant voice said “Hey, this is Pauling,” and he wasted exactly zero seconds to start talking.

“Alright so I kinda need some help, Miss P,” he opened with, because frankly those were some cards he knew were gonna end up on the table no matter how he played this.

“What did you do?” she asked immediately, and fuck, she was on to him.

“I—listen, I didn’t even do anything.”

“What did you do?” she asked again.

“...So, okay, promise you won’t be mad.”

“I’m already mad, Scout. What did you do?”

Scout worked hard for about three seconds to figure out a good way to phrase the next few sentences. “...So I was just at this bar, right, and I was minding my own goddamn business—“

“Scout.”

“I was!” he said, a little defensive. “Seriously! And this guy sees me across the bar, and, y’know, figures out I’m one of those guys from the newspaper who keeps causing trouble—“

“Were you in uniform?” she asked dryly.

“Nah, but, uh, Soldier and Cyclops were there, and some of the other guys were there earlier, and Soldier had his stupid helmet on, so, y’know. Bunch of foreigners and some G.I. Joe lookin’ guy, wouldn’t be hard to piece it together. And most of the guys left, and Soldier and Demo walk off, and I’m left alone just finishing my drink before I head out, like ya do.”

“Like you do,” Miss Pauling hesitantly agreed.

“And this guy goes, hey, three dudes is a lot, but I could take this one guy. And he comes up to me, right, all like ‘Hey what’s up I’m a drunk dude who wants to get in a fight like an asshole’ and I’m like ‘Hey nah I’m good actually’ because like, I’m busy and that’s stupid, right?”

“Right,” Miss Pauling agreed. “Really stupid.”

“Right! So I’m like, ‘Hey, fuck off pal’ and he just takes a fuckin’ swing at me, and I’m like ‘Hey actually fuck this I already paid I’m just gonna get outta here’ and I try to leave, but the dude just like—just grabs me by the arm and breaks my fuckin’ wrist, and I knock my whole glass over because holy shit, and a whole fuckin’ brawl kicks off, right—?”

“So long story short you need me to pick you up from jail again,” Miss Pauling cut in, voice laced with heavy exasperation.

“Nah, bartender saw everything and I didn’t get in any trouble. I, uh. I need you to pick me up from the hospital, actually,” he said, glancing over his shoulder as a nurse wheeled a cart by.

“Scout.”

“Look, I would’a just headed back to base, but it was like two in the morning and Medic was probably asleep and the bartender guy was bein’ all nice about it and how am I supposed to tell him I’ve got this crazy German guy who fixes all my bones and shit and don’t gotta go to a real hospital?” he asked, a little defensive. “Then they wouldn’t let me leave unless someone drove me because I’ve got a cast on and can’t drive, and I figured I shouldn’t wake you up or whatever at like four in the morning, so, I ended up taking a nap on a bench, and now it’s like ten so I figured you wouldn’t be mad.”

“Well, I can’t drive you back to base—“

“Aww, what?” he whined.

“—because I’m currently in Japan on business.”

“Oh. Okay, that’s fair,” he admitted.

“But I’ll send someone to pick you up,” she said. “Be ready to go in two hours.”

“Sure thing. Who are you sending?” Scout asked.

“I’ll send Spy,” she replied, and kept talking before Scout could start to complain. “Look, maybe now you’ll learn not to get in bar fights.”

“Miss P, c’mon!” he whined.

“I’m sending him. Two hours,” Miss Pauling said, and hung up on him, at which point he sighed so hard he got looks from two nurses down the hall.

Spy pulled up in his nice shiny car an hour and forty-five minutes later, and gave him a look that immediately made him feel guilty even though it totally wasn’t his fault that he was in this situation. He shifted on his feet for a second before heading over to the car. Silence.

“Wanna sign my cast?” Scout joked.

“Just get in the car.”

He did, deciding that maybe further hilarious commentary wasn’t going to help him out this time. Silence for a second.

He reached for the radio. Spy smacked his hand away. “Put on your seatbelt,” Spy said flatly, and Scout did, although it was a bit of a struggle one-handed, and they pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

About thirty seconds of quiet again before Spy broke it. “So you’re a hired mercenary, but one drunk man in a bar can break your arm?” Spy asked.

“Go to hell, Spy,” Scout mumbled.

“I just find it interesting is all,” Spy said, tone light. “That we apparently need to babysit you or else you’ll end up in the morning paper.”

“What?”

Spy reached down between his door and the seat and pulled forth a newspaper, which he promptly tossed into Scout’s lap. “Third page.”

Scout flipped the newspaper open and found that there was indeed an article there. A brawl at the bar, minor property damage, five people arrested and several more fined, two sent to the hospital. He wasn’t mentioned by name, but he did see himself in the background of the picture beside the title.

“You’d think you would have the awareness not to get caught in a... brawl, I believe they called it?” Spy asked.

“Hey, I keep my head on a swivel,” Scout defended, closing the newspaper and tossing it into the backseat. “Everything was fine until Cyclops and Helmet-Head ditched me.”

“Oh, I’m sure it was,” Spy hummed.

Scout frowned. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“No, I’m just certain that you’re giving the full unbiased truth, even though I theoretically have no way of verifying anything you say to me about what happened,” Spy shrugged, eyes on the road.

Scout frowned further. “You callin’ me a liar?”

“No, I’m calling you a bad liar,” Spy said dryly.

“Well it’s true, that’s really what happened,” Scout said, a little offended.

“It doesn’t matter to me either way, I just wanted you to know that you need better cover stories if you want to continue getting away with your usual shenanigans.”

“Whatever, Spy,” Scout scoffed, glaring out the window.

About a minute and a half of complete silence. Scout got bored glancing around his side of the car and spent a good minute just picking at his cast before he realized he probably shouldn’t do that. He ended up reaching for the radio.

“No,” Spy droned.

“Aw, c’mon! Can’t we listen to something?” Scout complained. “It’s like forty minutes until we get back to base.”

“If you didn’t get in a bar fight and break your arm, it would be zero minutes. But you did, and I’m not listening to your terrible taste in music for forty minutes just because you can’t keep yourself out of trouble.”

Scout pouted over that for a minute or two before he thought of a good retort. “...Y’know, technically the guy probably only even jumped me because I was alone,” he said.

“Correct.”

“And I was only alone because you and all the other guys ditched me.”

“Succinct.”

“So this is kinda sorta basically your fault.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change. “...My fault?” he repeated.

“Yeah. If you didn’t ditch me, I wouldn’t have gotten jumped.”

Spy’s expression didn’t change.

“So you should let me turn on the radio.”

“Mon dieu, perhaps you should have been a lawyer,” he deadpanned.

Silence. “...So can I turn on the radio?”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Spy said, and Scout leaned over to fiddle with the dial, grinning.

He really didn’t think Spy would put up with the sort of stuff he usually listened to in the car, so he ended up putting on a station with something old enough that Spy probably didn’t hate it. And Spy didn’t turn it off or pull over to dump him on the side of the road, so apparently he picked something alright.

Ten minutes without talking. Scout looked out his window and tried to remember not to pick at his cast. Because he was looking out the window, he pretty easily caught sight of a sign advertising a diner.

He looked over at a Spy. Spy didn’t look back.

“Can we get diner food?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“No,” Spy said.

“Please?” Scout asked.

“Tell me you aren’t seriously going to try this game,” Spy said, already looking annoyed. “You’re a grown man.”

“I’m hungry!”

“Then get something to eat at the base,” Spy said.

“I’m hungry and I have a broken arm and I’m gonna have to deal with Medic fixing my broken arm and also all the guys making fun of me. Can we please get diner food?” Scout asked,

Spy paused for a long moment. Scout’s eyes kept flicking between Spy and the upcoming exit. Spy sighed heavily and moved to take the exit. Scout cheered. “I can still change my mind,” Spy threatened. Scout shut up.

Scout double-checked his pockets for his wallet twice before they even pulled into the parking lot. It didn’t look particularly busy, but Spy didn’t pull up near the door anyways. He put the car into park and gave Scout the single most unimpressed look of his life.

“I’m giving you five minutes to order and get back in this car or I’m leaving without you,” he declared.

“Did you want anything?” Scout asked, fumbling with his seatbelt.

“Do I want terrible greasy American diner food?” Spy scoffed.

“Look, just thought I’d fuckin’ ask, alright? Jesus,” Scout mumbled, managing to get his seatbelt off. “And that doesn’t answer my question. Do you want anything?”

“Four minutes and fifty seconds,” Spy drawled, and Scout quickly got out of the car.

There wasn’t anyone in line, and luckily the diner was staffed by the kind of people who didn’t ask questions beyond giving a pointed glance towards his cast. He kept his order simple and kept an eye on the clock on the wall, and bolted back into the parking lot with the paper bag of food in hand wondering if Spy would seriously actually ditch him.

Surprisingly, Spy had left on the radio, and raised an eyebrow at him as he tried his best to bundle himself into the car one-handed. He managed to get his seatbelt on with only a minor scare about almost spilling the food, and promptly started digging through it as Spy pulled them back out of the parking lot.

“Here,” Scout chirped, holding something out to him. Spy frowned, glancing at his mirrors and taking what was being handed to him distractedly. They were out of the parking lot and back on the road by the time Spy actually looked at it.

“What is this?” he asked dryly, looking at the paper-wrapped something.

“Chicken sandwich,” Scout replied, pulling his own food out. “I uh, I think I got ketchup in here too—“

“Why did you get me a sandwich?”

“Why not?” Scout shrugged, unwrapping his burger and glancing it over before taking a bite and frowning. “Aw, man, I wanted cheese on this. Damn.”

“I didn’t ask for anything.”

“I mean, if you don’t want it, I’ll probably eat it.”

“No,” Spy said, and hesitated. He waited until they were at a stoplight before moving to unwrap the sandwich, glancing it over with a critical eye. Scout noticed that he didn’t take it completely out of the paper even when he did move to start eating it, instead using the paper to hold it. Probably worried about grease or something on his dumb gloves. Usually Scout would make fun of him about it, but he was pretty sure he was very close to getting kicked out of the car.

He wolfed down his hamburger (even without cheese) and started getting to work on his french fries, being extra careful due to the fact that he was pretty sure Spy would kill him if he dropped a fry in his nice, fancy, very very clean car.

He could only play it cool for so long once a joke occurred to him, though. He grinned, taking a fry and holding it between two fingers up near his face. “Hey, look, I’m you,” Scout joked, pretending to take a drag.

Spy spared him a glance and promptly rolled his eyes, returning to glaring at the road. “Not even close.”

“Aww, what?” Scout complained.

“First of all, I’m better dressed,” Spy quipped. “Second of all, I’m taller, and third of all, I didn’t get my arm put in a case because of a bar fight. Shall I continue? The list goes on.”

“Well why are you gettin’ personal about it?” Scout asked, bristling. “I was just makin’ a joke, sheesh.”

“How was I meant to know? Usually jokes are funny,” Spy said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Scout didn’t have a good comeback for that, just sinking in his seat and moving to look back out the window.

A good ten minutes of silence again, broken only by the radio and the hum of the car. Scout finished his fries and put his trash back in the bag the way that Spy seemed to be doing, then crossed his arms over himself and just looked out the window at all the nothing. Silence. Road.

Surprisingly, Spy spoke first. “You’ve missed two Volkswagen Beetles,” he noted.

Scout didn’t say anything.

“Usually when we pass one of those you punch me very hard on the arm and I almost crash the car because you’re an idiot.”

Scout sunk further in his seat, but didn’t say anything.

“Am I meant to gather from this that the way to get you to stop doing that is by making you angry with me? Because if so, clearly I’ll need to be much worse to you from now on if I want to keep this vehicle in one piece.”

“Like that’s even possible for you,” Scout said under his breath.

“I didn’t need to come pick you up from the hospital, nor did I need to let you turn on the radio, nor did I need to pull over to allow you to get food from the diner,” Spy pointed out. “All things considered, I’ve been very nice to you so far.”

“What a saint,” Scout mumbled sarcastically.

Silence. “Do you have something to say?”

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ talk about this, alright Spy?” Scout finally huffed.

“And why not?”

“Look, I’ve had a shitty night, okay?” Scout snapped, glaring hard at the desert outside the window. “I got my arm broken in a stupid bar because the guys got annoyed and ditched me and I was up until like four in the morning getting my arm set and put in a cast and then I had to sleep on a shitty bench in a hospital waiting room and then Miss P sent the one person on the planet who hates me more than anyone else to pick me up. I’m not fuckin’ doin’ this right now, okay? Just lay off.”

Silence. Thank god for the radio, or he would’ve suffocated in it.

“Surely I’m not the person who hates you the most in the world,” Spy said after a few moments. “There are nine men being paid to kill you on a daily basis. I’m sure they hate you much more than I do.”

Scout didn’t reply to that.

“And I’m sure none of them would have pulled over to let you get something to eat,” he added.

“Yeah, holy shit, your Peace Prize is in the mail,” Scout huffed.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Scout snapped, finally looking over at him. Spy couldn’t hold eye contact for long, needing to watch the road. “What was that supposed to mean?”

Spy sighed hard, looking extremely irritated. “It means that have you ever considered that perhaps the team worries when someone goes missing? And that occasionally your teammates might worry about you?”

“How was I supposed to know? Usually teammates are supposed to be nice,” Scout sassed, echoing Spy’s earlier joke.

He watched Spy take a measured inhale, a controlled exhale. When he spoke a long few seconds later, his voice was level. “Fine,” he said. “Alright. You’ve made your point.”

Scout just turned to look back out the window.

“...And I’m sorry we left you alone at the bar.”

His head whipped back around, eyebrows furrowed. Spy wasn’t looking at him.

“And I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier, and thank you for also getting me a sandwich when you didn’t need to,” Spy continued.

Scout waited a good few seconds for the catch, for the ‘gotcha’, for the punchline. For the part where Spy would twist the words around and hit him with something really biting once his guard was down. But nothing came. Just silence.

He needed a long moment to figure out how to reply. “...Thanks,” was all he could manage, and he knew it was lame, but Spy just shrugged and made no further comment.

Minutes of silence. Scout looked out the windshield, picked at his cast. “Punch buggy,” he quipped a few minutes later, slugging Spy on the shoulder with his good hand, and Spy made an appropriate sound of disgust and annoyance and offhandedly threatened to make him walk the rest of the way, but Scout just laughed.

#dad!spy #tf2 #team fortress 2 #my fanfiction #shut up me #everybody talks #spy orders one black coffee and keeps driving like the john mulaney bit

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