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prof-peach · 3 years

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Hello Professor Peach!

I've followed your account recently and I was wondering. What types of Pokemon would I need to run a sucessful greenhouse like yours?! I know that I would obviously need Grass Types and maybe Bug Types, but what others would I need?

Thanks in advance!

From a fellow Grass Type and Nature Lover!

We have several greenhouses on the island, as we specialise in grass Pokemon, so I’ll run though what each has and why.

Seedling house

Set up for young sprouts, both plant and Pokemon based, with some areas shaded with netting, others in full sun. This space needs to be easy to clean, and you’ll find yourself disinfecting between sowing, to reduce fatalities and get the most out of your seeds!

Bulbasaur (potato) a good boy, old as sin now, but his gentle lullaby helps young plants grow, and keeps the baby Pokemon calm and settled. You DO NOT want a whole greenhouse worth of baby Pokemon crying, trust me. He’s stern but patient, and this is why he works well in this space, as he will not tolerate bad behaviour, and raises the youngsters with a firm but kind vibe. His vines are delicate and intricate enough to handle young seedlings, and because he himself is partially plant, he understands the needs of actual plants very well. His age also helps, he’s quite good at delegating and can boss the other workers around, and hold their respect. He has a few underlings he is training to help while he’s away, a sunflora, a turtwig, and a nuzleaf, all of which enjoy the work too.

Lotad, we keep a lot of these, as they tend to come and go. Usually we have around 4-5 in the seedling house at any one time, their broad leaves make them good at carrying things, moving trays of babies, and genrally handling youngsters, and they can usually learn water gun with some training, thus making them excellent at keeping the place well watered (but not too much). Their plant nature means they’re quite respective of small species,and tend not to crush any small sprouts if they can avoid it. They do however hibernate if it gets too cold, so it may be worth employing the help of a more winter tolerant water Pokemon if need be. We swap the Lotad out for Wooper in winter, they are small, not often too hard to handle, easy to find in our area, and kind natured on average.

There’s a old Pangoro that hangs out in this house, often happy to help lifting tables to move and rearrange spaces for new species, or to help do the big spring cleaning jobs each year. His disposition is far mor W gentle than normal, so I’d advise finding a patient, gentle Pokemon, who can do some heavy lifting. It’s always worth having a powerful individual here, as lots of Pokemon look to seedlings as snacks. As a defence, this pangoro works well, and birds and bugs tend not to enter the zone without his watchful eye on them.

A rather old Espeon without a tail likes to sleep in there too, her psychic powers means she can handle threats without big brash movements, and she tends to quietly spend her days just keep guard, and genrally being a watchful eye should the Pangoro mosey off to eat or bathe outside the greenhouse. This is a good example of shift Pokemon. When one is gone, the other is more alert and active as a guard. Never have just one Pokemon to a job, as they too need time out, breaks, vacations and down time to enjoy and relax. It’s too much to expect one individual to do everything.

Youngsters often enjoy a nightlight, so we let the volbeat and illumise into the greenhouse at night, to dance and keep a gentle glow in the area. The young seedling Pokemon are often stuck in pots, unable to move about yet, so they enjoy entertainment, and some are not keen on the deep dark of night outside. This settles them, and these bug types don’t eat seedlings, so they’re often great company.

In winter, we move one of greys charizard in to heat the space and protect the babies from frost. We have around 6 charizard on the island, and they are sometimes well behaved. We have the most calm and maternal in this house, she is a gentle soul, and I’d often not advise others to use this species for this work. A better fit would be Torkoal, known for exuding gentle heat continuously with enough food, or perhaps a Darumaka, Numel, or carkol. They tend to have much calmer natures for fire types, and ambient lay heat spaces well. Frost is a killer for seedlings so this is very important. As a grower, you also end up with infected or sick plant matter (trimmings and such) and the only way to responsibly dispose of that is to burn it. This keeps the risk of spreading infections far lower, and you won’t end up putting sickly, potentially fungus filled material into your compost, and in turn spreading it around. Fire is very important in the garden, in a controlled and careful way of course.

Healing house

This space is half open space, half I solated zones, built for recovery and care. When a Pokemon or plant becomes sick, they need specialist care, and sometimes they can spread their illness to others, so having an area to quarentine them and cure any issues is very important. This space needs to be fuss free, able to be disinfected easily, ideally with drains in the floor (much like you’d see at a swimming pool or something) so you can slosh down some disinfectant and ready the spaces for the next patient. Think of a glass topped kennel, that’s what you’re going for here.

Meganium, (summer) a lovely lady who’s been with me a while now, she’s quite resistant to disease thanks to her variation, and so she’s ideal for working in these kinds of environments. Despite this I would not mix her with a Pokemon who’s seriously sick, she’s more the “nurse” figure of the greenhouse, who oversees everything while I’m away. Her roles require her to be caring, and very calm despite seeing many in alarming states. The Pokemon doing this job needs to have a will of steel, and a strong stomach. Some diseases are quite unnerving to see progress. Keeping a bright outlook is a key component to this work. She’s able to emit a soothing aura, filling a space with gentle scent that can calm, energise, or even put patients to sleep. Her vines make her dexterous enough to hold tools and perform general care tasks like sweeping and watering ect.

I have befriended some Marill, a small pod of about 12, who come and go to help water and keep the place cleaned up. Their jolly natures are great for patients who are isolated while healing, and as they aren’t grass types, many of the individuals inside this space can interact with them, and not risk spreading illness (most of the time). They’re a little more rough and ready than the seedling watering team, but this is ok, as we don’t often keep youngsters in this house. They like to be paid in snacks, but others prefer toys, stories, games, and even tv time. Negotiating a fair deal for everyone is very key here, a Pokemon taut feels cheated will do a bad job. If they’re happy, you’ll be happy, trust me.

Audino, not often a Pokemon I discuss much, and don’t even use in the main lab, as this particular Audino has been trained to deal with grass issues specifically. She flunked out with her old trainer at medical college, so I took her on and tried to focus her in on something a bit more practical. She’s not able to catch a lot of grass issues due to her normal nature, and is a handy healer to have around. She’s actually quite a lazy individual, and is often found asleep in the staff room when not working.

This space will also require a dedicated burner Pokemon, a fire type to remove infected and dangerous tissues taken from infected patients. I often use Valka (vulpix) for this job, as she’s usually with me, and this greenhouse is where I spend the majority of my time, and she’s very efficient.

I advise you not use grass Pokemon so much in this greenhouse, as sick grass Pokemon tend to be more infectious to other grass types. You’ll often find me using normal, ground, or rock types, with strong immune systems, or individuals with calm natures, as this space sees a lot of unnerving things, and needs level headed individuals.

Tropics house

Also known as the hot house, as when you enter it you break into a sweat. Humidity is high, temperature is high, ceilings are high. This is a 4 floor tall building, all glass, planted like a jungle, with varying canopy levels, sunken pond spaces, and dense lush greenery. I also keep my orchid collection here, and you’ll find many bug types are drawn to the colours and smells. This is the highest skill level greenhouse behind the healing house, and I’d advise you try to start with one of the more simple ones firstly, should you be new to this kind of work. Heating this space is done with hot water pipes, and the whole building is lined with sprinkler systems that runs on a timer. Every 15 minutes everything gets doused with a thick, cooling fine mist.

This is where the Queen of my Bellossom clutch hangs around, she’s quite something to see, far larger, with soft pink coloured petal skirt, and a real air of royalty about her. The whole greenhouse respects her as she’s proven her skill as a leader many times, resolving conflicts with reason and patience. She may not be the strongest, but she’s certainly smart, and can lead with an iron fist need be. She is good with visitors, as this greenhouse is public, and open to visitors, unlike the previous ones mentioned above. She is a good overseer, and saves me a lot of time and trouble, fixing squabbles and keeping everyone calm. She is at the top of the hierarchy, and can request help from just about everyone else within this space, and they’ll oblige.

There’s a substantial Tangrowth who chills out in this zone, usually sleeping in a sunny patch at the back, he’s usually left child minding, as many of the Pokemon within have young of their own, and need a good baby sitter. Something that’s sturdy, with a lot of arms to keep tabs in them all (he just ties a vine to them and lets them run riot while he dozes) he can be quite defensive of the young but this is good, as the public spaces are more likely to be stolen from, and as we handle a lot of variants, security is needed. People like to steal young Pokemon when they’re unusual or rare.

Tsareena, a power house, acts as a guard, and works with a couple of Lurantis, who all enjoy the heat and have high prey drives. Should someone try to nab a baby, wade into a dangerous area, or start a fight within the greenhouse, they’ll step in, crushing most things in their path without too much issue. The Lurantis is actually one of quite a few, and should they become overwhelmed, they’ll call the others in as backup. This lot keep the peace physically, and can stop fights (as you don’t want broken glass in this space).

The windows need to be cleaned to keep the light levels high, so we often employ flying or psychic Pokemon to get us up higher to handle this work. I use whatever is around at the time, but often a good ladder will do the trick if you have a shorter building than ours.

Watering is actually done mostly with hoses and irrigation in this greenhouse but we do have one water type who resides within, in a deep pond in the centre. A Dreadnaw, Tobi, who came back with me from Galar quite recently. He’s very docile for his type, so we figured he’d enjoy the calm jungle vibes of this zone. He occasionally wades out to wander around and water things, keeping a close eye on everyone. Their species is renown for biting and aggression but Tobi is rather chilled out, and has taken to being the biggest water type in the space quite well. He shares his pond with a couple of small relicanth, and the odd little water type who comes in out of curiosity, along with a small pod of Lotad. He keeps things very damp, even in the dry corners, and often will listen to grass Pokemon who need extra water, and come over to assist.

No fire type in this building as all damaged or trimmed material should be collected and removed from the area, to be either composted, burnt, or used as cutting material elsewhere.

We encourage bug types in this space for the most part, as they feed other Pokemon, and also pollinate. This space has fruit trees and flowers, so we leave the windows open for whatever may want to enter to look around (and for airflow). The general temperament of the greenhouse is pretty calm, tanks to the balance of staff Pokemon, so if an aggressive bug comes in, it’s soon chased out. causing trouble isn’t tolerated within this space.

This greenhouse is abll about emulating nature, so taking trips to more jungle locations may benefit you here. I’d suggest doing detailed research, and studying established locations before building this zone, as there’s a lot of foundation work to be concidered, like water, piping, irrigation, airration, and light levels.

Desert house

Hot in the day, cooler at night, dry, often sparser in style. Very bright! This is a common space for a lot of variations, and also cacti based Pokemon. We have an array of desert species hanging out here, but also a lot of rock types. This is a petty easy going space, not a lot of water needed, but certainly care none the less.

A heater! We use a Heatmore, who seems to enjoy the general ambience, and is stroppy enough that the cacti Pokemon can’t bully him or get into too much trouble. He keeps the space hot in the winter, and not too cold at night, he will occasionally drop his workload in the summer when the temperatures are high enough without him. We trade him out with a Slazzle from time to time, should he require time out.

Watering is sparse, we call in one Politode now and then to drench the space, then leave it to dry out quite a bit. There’s of course places for Pokemon to drink from, small water features and the odd trough to get a drink from, but the species here don’t require half as much as others, and will happily go two or more weeks without more than morning dew. We tend to keep an eye on things and use a hose when we catch the odd Pokemon or plant who needs a little extra.

Cacturn is the boss of this space, and works hard to maintain a firm level of control over the many little Pokemon who live in this house. He’s old now, with many arms, not just the initial two, standing at around 9ft tall, with very thick limbs. He’s not kind as such but only really shows his mean side if you mess with him or the ones he protects. This is a space that’s open to the public, so we have to employ his power to protect from theft.

This space contains a lot of young alpine Pokemon too, bulbasaur, oddish, and some fun variants of Crustle who have plants atop their backs. There’s a strong nod to those who can handle drought, and so it’s a great starting greenhouse for anyone who’s a little forgetful. We also keep quite a few Sudowoodo and their pre-evolutions here, as they dig the dry air. They also help in creating rockery areas with their attacks and strength, that suit the area and the Pokemon within.

Carnivorous house

Not easy to plan but simple enough to keep. They need boggy conditions, lots of open light areas, and genrally this space is quite wild looking, certainly not tended, and I’d advise you get some waders or wellies for the work done here. Water types and bog Pokemon will love this space, and it should be protected from the frost, for those who do not like the cold.

Carnivine, often found hanging from vines within the space, they have a very particular diet, and I tend to run the tours for visitors to this greenhouse, to make sure no one gets chewed on. There’s quite a few colours and shapes, but they don’t do,innate the space as much as others. Their ungodly shrieking can be wonderful alarms to danger, and I totally advise having a few around, even if only for their comedic value and friendship.

The champions of this space are Victreebell and it’s pre-evolutions. I’ve kept many, and variants are something I research, so you can imagine the amount collected here. They’re very handy in summer should you get large infestations of bug Pokemon anywhere else, as their diet is all about eating other living things, and they don’t like rich soil or plant feed at all. Herd them to the bugs that bother you and let them hunt, you’ll soon have things under control again.

There’s a lot of Mudkip, Stunkfish, Quagsire, you know, mud lovers, and their watery ways can mean you have a lot of Pokemon able to keep the water levels high. This space needs to almost be submerged in water at all times, dry roots can lead to unhealthy buddies.

One thing to note is windows. You need to have access for bugs in this space. The species within have specific diets that Pokemon food doesn’t quite do justice, so allowing them to lure bugs in with their scent, and eat healthy correct diets will lead to far better health for your carnivorous friends.

Extra notes:

Theres the obvious, a standard, sturdy, average grow house. The beautiful basics to all the areas I’ve discussed above. Without just a space to store, to care, to grow, and to keep, none of the beautiful public spaces would look half as good. We have overflow greenhouses for winter, for overcrowding, for if the torterra want to come in, or if we get a large herd of Tropius sent to us who hate the frost. Grass types come in a lot of shapes and sizes, but should a large set come your way, these spare zones come in handy. If you have the space, set a few up, even if they’re storage most of the time, they will come in handy eventually. There’s a lot that happens behind the scenes, so make room for this.

THERE IS NO RIGHT SET OF POKEMON. I mean this seriously, I picked who I knew would suit the work, it’s not right for everyone. Grass Pokemon may have a good understanding of what plants and other grass types need, but you need to find species who are caring and patient. I’ve seen a lot of grass Pokemon who are fighters, impatient, stroppy and even aggressive, and they’d not suit this kind of work at all. You need to pick your team based on their personality, not just their type or species. Take your time and don’t be afraid to switch out their work load, try new things, and test an unusual Pokemon in a job position if you see potential in them. It’s a myth that grass Pokemon will be best for other grass Pokemon. I find I use a lot of other types to handle them, and often bugs will chew and eat at your grass types, so you have to pick carefully. Be clever with your research on this all.

Don’t think this set of Pokemon will take the workload off of your shoulders. A greenhouse needs YOUR time too, you need to throw some tough gloves on and get stuck in, or your team mates won’t feel enthusiastic about the work. Lead by example, work hard with them, weed and sow seed, trim, care for, and be part of the process, and it will feel all the sweeter when plants and Pokemon bloom and grow into beautiful things.

I find if you get stuck, if a Pokemon or plant won’t grow right, or keeps getting sick, take a step back, reevaluate what your method is, and take a look at their home. We forget that every plant and Pokemon has an actual originating location, and if we can emulate those conditions, their survival chances go up drastically! It’s not always easy, so don’t be afraid to google stuff, whip your phone out and have a good scroll around. There’s no such thing as a stupid question, so ask anything and everything.

A cheeky helpful tip, some Pokemon learn sleep powder, and many think that this move doesn’t affect other grass types, which is a pain because this move is very handy when dealing with difficult Pokemon. It in fact does affect other grass types, but only those who cannot also learn the attack. So an oddish can put a Leafeon to sleep who cannot learn the move, but not a Morelull, who can also learn sleep powder.

This was a BIG ONE but we have a lot of greenhouse, all catered for differently, so here’s hoping this helps your endeavours.

#long post #pokemon #prof.peach #peach talks

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ginazmemeoir · 3 years

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Bhaiyyaaaa story plej

here you go. it's about how sibling rivalry leads to slavery, gambling/betting can indeed destroy your life, and following what people say by the word is indeed a good thing cause words be sneaky.

yes this is the story of Garuda, the Emperor of Birds, King of Eagles, Destroyer of snakes and poison, Vahana of Vishnu.

So we start with Kadru and Vinata. Both sisters, and both married to Rishi Kashyap along with their 21 other sisters. And both of these, were involved in a bitter rivalry. The kind of rivalry where you ruin your sister's date cause she used your lipstick without asking you, and then the other sister shreds your PhD thesis. This is the shit I'm talking about.

And then one day they got into a typical desi aunty squabble : who's children are better? THEY WEREN'T EVEN PREGNANT THEN. So Kadru asks Kashyap for 100 children, sparkling like molten gold, draconic in features blah blah blah basically she asked for snakes, or nagas as children. All nagas in the world are her children. Vinata on the other hand asked for 2 children, both mightier than Kadru's children. Kadru laid 100 eggs, and Vinata laid 2. (WHY DID THEY LAY EGGS. WHY?)

Anywho Kadru's eggs hatched pretty soon, and her thousand children sprang forth. These included Ananta or Sheshanag, the thousand headed snake which controls the flow of time, on whose hoods the earth stands and on whose coils Vishnu rests; Takshaka, the Second Naga King, who poisoned Arjuna's grandson Parikshit; and Vasuki, the Third Naga King, who is coiled around Shiva's neck and whose daughters Uloopi and Sulochana were married to Arjuna and Meghanad respectively. So you can guess Kadru's children were pretty legendary. Meanwhile Vinata's egg were just... there. They didn't hatch. They didn't glow. You couldn't make an omelet out of them because they were the size of a car or something like that. So Vinata grew restless and cracked an egg open one day, and out came Aruna, the gender fluid god of dawn (you might also know them as Usha, the goddess of dawn). And they were EXTREMELY strong and angry and had no body from the waist down, because they were born before their time. So they cursed Vinata, saying she would be enslaved someday (sheesh. cold).

And the fated day came during a holiday. Kadru and Vinata were taking a walk down the beach when they saw Ucchaishravas, the King of Horses. He also breathes fire, can fly, is as white as moonlight, has ten heads, and can eat meat. Vinata looked at him and said, "Just look at him, I bet he's shinier than all the pearls and moons" and Kadru, in her normal behaviour and contradicted her by saying, "Nah bitch, look over there, he has a black strand in his tail." Vinata obviously said no to which Kadru said, "Wanna bet? Loser and her children would be slaves to the other for eternity." And so in such high risk situations - you say yes even though you know your sister's a dirty cheater. Kadru knew she had lied, and also knew she couldn't lose, so she ordered her children to coil themselves around Ucchaishravas' tail to make it look black, to which many replied "Nah mama ya big liar" to which Kadru replied "Nah you ungrateful brats I curse you to be burnt alive in the future with your entire subspecies". The rest of them got in line pretty easily then.

Both of them came the second day, and obviously. Ucchraivas' tail hair was black since the snakes were coiled around it. And poor poor Vinata was reduced to Kadru and her children's slave. And her son, Garuda, a half man-half eagle, was born into slavery.

Garuda hated the way the snakes treated him and his momma. One incident includes a teenage Garuda (big as a mountain now) carrying all the snakes on his back and flying across the ocean, while Kadru sat on his momma's back as she swam. In a fit of rage, he flew too close to the sun in an attempt to kill all snakes by burning them. Kadru immediately prayed to Indra, King of Gods and god of rain and thunder, who has always been a friend of the nagas, to protect them, and so he covered the sky with dense clouds.

Now came a time when Garuda became fed up. Enough is enough, slavery is evil, and plus the snakes made SUCH a huge mess. So he asked them what he could do to free him and his momma, to which the snakes replied, "Bring ussss Amrit, the nectar of immortality." Great. So all you have to do is steal the nectar of immortality, stashed in the most secure location in heaven, wrestle gods, and give it to some evil noodles. Garuda obviuosly said yes.

On his way to heaven, he ate a huge ass elephant and turtle, who were locked in an eternal battle. Not relevant but seemed like a neat thing to add.

Garuda arrives on the gates of Swarga. He breaks 'em open, and flies in, defeats all the gods, no sweat, steals the Amrit and flies away. On his way, he is intercepted by Lord Vishnu, who says "Dem noodles are too powerful. You can't make them immortal." to which Garuda replies "Don't be afraid mysterious alien. I have no intention of letting the bastards have it." because you see dear reader, the nagas told Garuda to bring them the Amrit. They never told him to let them drink it. See, following everything by the word is so fun.

Garuda reaches down, and places the Amrit-kalash in front of the snakes. The Nagas immediately freed him and his mother from slavery, and when they slithered closer to the amrit, Garuda advised them to go and have a bath. "You must be so tired from waiting," and the greedy bastards slithered away to bathe. When they returned, the amrit was gone. So was Garuda. In desperation, they started licking the ground where the amrit pot was kept. Since the ground has graced the amrit, it acquired some of it's regenerative properties, hence snakes are able to shed skin. But even that was too strong for them so the grass blades slit their tongues into forks.

Garuda went back to Swarga to return the amrit, when Vishnu again intercepted him and said, "You have the amrit this entire time and yet you didn't want to drink it?" to which Garuda replied, "No. I wanted to free momma and myself. Also this smells a bit weird." "I require your services young man, as wingman and transport and minion." asked Vishnu, to which Garuda replied "Mmkay, but I ain't gonna be beneath you. I also gotta be above you" for which Vishnu invented his flag and emblem - the Garudadhwaj - a flag with Garuda's picture on it. Yes it is a scrappy dumb solution, but Garuda decided to go along with it, cause you're now protected by a really powerful god.

phew that was TOO long. Garuda also got his revenge since now he and all his progeny were allowed to feast on snakes and were immune to any and all types of poison.

Garuda is also the national emblem of Thailand and the state of Karnataka in India.

#garud #garuda #hindu mythology #mythology #story time

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nicknellie · 3 years

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Anonymous requested: Julie and the Phantoms are on tour and Juke are dating, one stop on tour Luke gets sick (woke up with fever, swollen glands, sore throat etc) and the doctor diagnoses him with strep and an ear infection and Julie takes care his stubborn butt back to the hotel because he doesn't like to let down the fans since they have to cancel few shows.

Anonymous requested: alive guys, out of school in the real world, now all living in an apartment together. The 5 Times Luke Was Sick, and The 5 Times Julie Cured Him and maybe add in the 1 time Luke returns the favour of taking care of Julie.

Anonymous requested: Luke and Julie are married and have a daughter (Rose, 3). Rose and Luke end up waking up sick with the flu and Julie takes care of them, and she gets worn down from doing everything and caring for them. And even with him being sick in bed he lays with Rose when Julie’s beat and cuddles her when she feels sick even though he feels the same. Cute family fluff basically.

We Will Fight To Shine Together

The entire week had been hectic. Julie – along with her boys, Luke, Alex, and Reggie – had finally got the keys to their new apartment and had spent the whole of the previous two days hauling their belongings there from their respective homes. Ray Molina, protective as always, had been breathing down their necks in a frantic and worried attempt to help them out, the presence of Willie and Flynn had resulted in less unpacking and more Cardboard Box Wars, and most of their things were strewn about in unlikely places after the chaos of unpacking; just that morning Julie had found Alex’s drumsticks in the fridge.

But they were finally there, they were finally home, and there was nothing to worry about. Everything in the apartment seemed to be in order, they weren’t set to go on tour for another six months so the stress of that was still a way off, and the band’s new-found sense of freedom and independence hung over them like a rainbow. There was nothing that could have gone wrong. Nothing except–

“Dude, you look sick! And not in the good way.”

Julie had been sat atop the kitchen counter, watching Alex prepare their breakfast, but she looked towards the door when she heard Reggie’s exclamation. Stood in the doorway, bundled in about four hoodies, his eyes bloodshot and his nose running, was Luke. Reggie was right – he looked as if he were about to keel over and die. His puppy dog eyes were wide and watery and he looked utterly dreadful.

“Luke,” Julie said, hopping off the counter and heading over to him. “Are you feeling alright?”

He shook his head and sniffled pathetically. “I’m sick,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, you look it,” Julie said. She took his hand and gently led him towards a kitchen chair. He collapsed into it with a relieved sigh as if he couldn’t have bared standing any longer.

To Julie’s surprise (and slight annoyance) Alex and Reggie were laughing.

“You must have the weakest immune system known to man,” Alex joked as he put the group’s breakfast onto plates.

“On the bright side, Willie owes me ten dollars,” Reggie said with a beam. “I bet him you wouldn’t last two weeks before getting sick.”

Julie put her hands on her hips and glared at the two boys who immediately ceased their laughter. She knew she could be quite terrifying when she wanted to and she didn’t like abusing that power too much, but this was a situation she felt called for it.

“You two are seriously lacking compassion,” she scolded, pointing to and from Alex and Reggie. “Your friend is ill and all you can do is laugh at him. It’s mean – he has it difficult enough right now.”

Luke, pouting pathetically, nodded in agreement.

Alex and Reggie, both looking suitably chastised, muttered, “Sorry Julie.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t apologise to me.”

“Sorry Luke.”

“That’s better,” she said. Julie took herself out of Mother Mode and returned to Supportive Girlfriend. She gently ran her fingers through Luke’s hair – he relaxed a little as her touch. “I’m going to take you back to bed, you’re going to get some rest while I look up your symptoms, and then I’m going to take care of you.”

Luke’s eyes widened. “It’s probably just a cold. You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t, but I’m going to. Come on.”

Julie sent one more cutting glare to Reggie and Alex before helping Luke stand and leading him back through their little apartment to their shared bedroom. She eased him back into the bed, helped him make a half-nest-half-fort with the pillows and duvet, then grabbed her laptop and set up YouTube for him. Then, she pulled up a tab on her phone and sat beside him on the bed.

“Do you feel like you’re going to be sick?” she asked.

Luke shook his head.

“Are you feeling dizzy at all?”

“A little bit,” he croaked.

She smiled knowingly. “Sore throat too?”

He closed his eyes and nodded.

Julie asked him more questions, then determined that because of the stress of moving his immune system had utterly crashed and some nasty bug had seized the opportunity. According to the internet, he needed plenty of bed rest, he should have been kept warm, he needed a lot of water, and most of all he simply needed to not do anything for a while.

“But we’re supposed to go to the studio tomorrow to record a bunch of songs,” Luke protested when Julie told him. He sat up abruptly, but eased himself back down, a hand rested against his forehead, wincing.

“You’re not going anywhere like that,” Julie told him. “I’ll call the studio and let them know we’ll have to record your parts a different time. Don’t say anything,” she commanded as he opened his mouth to argue again. “I’m not changing my mind.”

He grumbled something she couldn’t quite hear but assumed was something childishly rude – it had certainly sounded as if he’d been mocking her voice. She ignored him and instead headed back out to the kitchen. Julie grabbed painkillers and a large glass of water and took them back to Luke who had started a long YouTube playlist of Bondi Rescue videos.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be sitting in front of a screen if you’re dizzy,” Julie contemplated, handing him the tablets and the drink. Luke looked up at her with a mixture of sadness and fury in his eyes.

“I’ve already lost my health, I can’t lose Bondi Rescue too,” he said.

She breathed a laugh and sat back down beside him. He immediately melted into her side, his head rested against her abdomen. She stroked her fingers through his hair and felt him sigh at the touch.

He was asleep within minutes.

Julie and the Phantoms were on tour. It was a moment they had all been anticipating ever since they’d inducted Julie into the band. The four of them had saved up enough money to buy their own tour bus emblazoned with their faces and the band’s logo and were spending nine months driving across the United States and Canada to perform their show to sold-out crowds. Julie could hardly believe it was happening.

Right that moment, part of her wished it weren’t happening.

Julie had been led to understand that before she joined the band and became the responsible one, Alex was the ‘parental figure’ who had kept Luke and Reggie (both far more boisterous by nature) in check. If anyone had told her that on the second leg of their tour, she would not have believed it for a moment. Alex was sat in the passenger seat beside her, but was leaning over the back of it to swat at Reggie who was kicking the back of his seat. Both were calling each other childish names and their hands were flapping about like they were having a catfight. Julie had given up trying to stop them about two hundred miles ago.

Looking after them sometimes felt like having a pair of toddlers. Though more often it was like having three toddlers because Luke would find a way to join in on the shenanigans. But right then, in the backseat beside Reggie, he was oddly quiet.

“Luke,” Julie called over Alex and Reggie’s squabbling, readjusting the mirror so she could see Luke behind her. “You okay?”

Luke nodded then tried to clear his throat. “Yeah,” he said, voice gravelly. “Sore throat, that’s all.”

Julie frowned. “Are you sure? You don’t sound good. Will you be able to sing for tomorrow’s show?”

His eyes widened frantically at the mention of the performance. “Of course! I’ll be fine, it’s just a sore throat.”

It was, unfortunately, very clearly not just a sore throat.

Julie pulled the tour bus into the parking lot of their hotel and the gang all headed to their rooms. Julie and Luke were sharing, partially to save money and partially because they wanted to. Before they went to sleep, Julie checked again with Luke to see if he was alright and again he told her in that rough voice that he was fine.

However, when they woke up Luke seemed distinctly worse for wear. He was radiating heat like the sun but shivering as if he were in the arctic, he was complaining of pain in his right ear, and when Julie looked down his throat she saw that his tonsils were swollen and covered in white spots.

“You’re not going on stage like this,” she said, shaking her head. “No way. I’m calling a doctor.”

“I don’t need a doctor,” Luke insisted, attempting to hoist himself into a sitting position but giving up quickly. “It’s just a sore throat.”

“You can try telling me that again when you can swallow more than a drop of water,” Julie said before picking up her phone and calling the nearest doctor.

Luckily, the doctor was able to come out to the hotel so Luke didn’t have to even get out of bed. The doctor took one look at his symptoms, then turned to Julie.

“Looks like strep throat,” they said, snapping their latex gloves off. “The pain in the ear is because of an ear infection that came after the bacteria travelled from the throat to the middle ear. I’m going to prescribe him a course of antibiotics, he’ll need to take them all otherwise the infection will come back stronger. I recommend he doesn’t perform for at least another month to give the infection ample time to heal.”

“A month?” Luke tried to yell, but it came out as an outraged breathy whisper.

“Yes,” the doctor said, looking down at him over their glasses. “Your infection is particularly severe, Mr Patterson, and if you want to finish your tour then I suggest you take my advice.”

“We can’t cancel shows,” Luke protested weakly. “Think of how excited everyone’s been…”

Julie smiled to the doctor and saw them out of the room. “Thank you very much,” she said. “I’ll make sure he gets those antibiotics and plenty of rest.”

Once the doctor was gone, Julie called Flynn, the official manager for Julie and the Phantoms and Julie’s lifelong best friend. “Cancel every show for the next month,” she instructed. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Are you alright, Jules?” Flynn said, immediately sounding concerned. “I can come over and take care of you, whatever you need, I’ll book a flight right now–”

“I’m fine, Flynn,” Julie assured her. “It’s Luke. He’s got strep.”

“Oh no.” Flynn’s worry morphed into something akin to disappointment. “He’s literally the worst one of you guys to get ill right now.”

“Tell me about it. He’s furious that we’ve even suggested cancelling the shows.”

“He gets it’s for his own good, right?” Flynn asked.

Julie shook her head even though Flynn couldn’t see her. “He knows that but he doesn’t want to let everyone down. He’s been more excited for the tour than the fans have – he doesn’t want any of it to go wrong and this is about as wrong as it could go.”

“I’m sure he’ll get over it once the ‘get well soon’ messages start arriving,” Flynn said.

“I think that’ll just make it worse,” Julie countered. “Anyway, it’s fine. There’s nothing we can do. Just make sure everyone knows the next shows are cancelled.”

“You got it, boss. Good luck with Luke.”

“I’ll need it.”

Julie hung up on Flynn and headed back towards Luke. He was still sat up in the bed, looking very sorry for himself as he pouted with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey,” she said softly, crouching down next to his side of the bed. “I’m going to make you some hot honey and lemon water – my mom always made it for me when I got a sore throat. It’ll help, I promise. Is there anything else you want?”

“I want to do the shows,” he said petulantly.

Julie shook her head firmly. “You heard the doctor – none of us are going on any stage for another month. Flynn’s cancelling the shows as we speak.”

Luke looked aghast. “No!”

“Yes. You’re sick, Luke. And think about it; if this were me or Alex or Reggie in your position, what would you say to do?”

“I’d say we should cancel the shows until you got better,” he said as if the answer were obvious, then he seemed to hear his own words and deflated a little. “Fine. I suppose this is for the best. I… I just feel like I’m letting everyone down.”

Julie intertwined their fingers and held his hand tightly. She gave him a soft, reassuring smile. “You aren’t letting anybody down, Luke. It’s not your fault that you’re sick and there’s nothing any of us can do about it now. All that can be done is for you to rest and take your meds so that the next shows we do are as good as they can be. Okay?”

He rolled his eyes sighed, but there was the tiniest smile playing about his lips. “Okay.”

Julie had said it was a bad idea from the very beginning, but the boys had insisted that they’d done it before and it was perfectly safe.

It felt good to be proven right, but less good to be vomited on.

The first problem was that there was definitely not enough room anywhere in their tiny apartment for three grown men to attempt the famous lift from Dirty Dancing. Julie had pointed that out. She had pointed it out almost a dozen times. Every time, Reggie had told her that they didn’t actually need a lot of space, trust me.

The second problem was that their heights simply didn’t add up to a safe lift. Luke and Reggie were of a similar build, but Alex was much taller and there wasn’t really anywhere for him to go – if he held up one of the guys, they’d be held at an angle; if he were the one on top, he would likely crush the other two.

The third and final problem was that none of the boys were dancers and had no training or experience, therefore none of them knew how to do the lift properly and safely. Julie had stretched this argument to its breaking point but the three idiots had not heeded her warning.

And so they had done the lift.

It had started out strong. They had decided that Alex would be the one in the air, so Luke and Reggie had got into position with their hands outstretched and Alex had taken a great running start and leapt at them. To their credit, the boys held Alex in the air for a solid three seconds before Reggie lost his balance and Luke’s grip slipped, and the three of them went tumbling to the ground.

Julie watched in unsurprised horror as Alex fell flat on top of Reggie and scrambled to get off him, while Luke dropped far too close to the dining table and whacked his head on its corner with a grotesque thud.

He was out cold.

Julie muttered a curse and hurried towards him. Alex and Reggie gathered around slowly too, warily looking down at Luke, clearly feeling guilty.

“Luke?” Julie said to the unconscious lump in her lap. He was heavier than he looked – she privately understood why they had decided to lift Alex instead. “Can you hear me, sweetie?”

After a few more minutes, Luke came to, groaning and cradling his head.

“Hey,” Alex said, smiling brightly. “You’re awake! Sorry about that, we–”

Alex didn’t get to finish his sentence because Luke interrupted him by loudly and violently throwing up on Alex’s shoes. A little bit hit Julie’s dress and she quickly yanked the fabric out of the way.

Alex looked at his shoes disappointedly. After a long while he said, “I am going to the bathroom. Either to shower or be sick, I’m not sure yet,” and then disappeared.

Reggie was a deathly shade of green, staring at Luke and the vomit.

“If you don’t like it you can go, Reggie,” Julie said. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

Reggie nodded and followed Alex out of the room, wide-eyed.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh?” Julie said. Luke nodded vaguely, his eyes far away, and she led him through the apartment to their bedroom. She only just managed to get him into bed before he started slipping into unconsciousness again.

It was plain as day that Luke had a nasty concussion. Julie tucked him into bed, then switched off the lights and drew the curtains so that it was almost pitch black. She got him an enormous glass of water and readied all the painkillers she could find, as well as grabbing a large bowl so that he didn’t have to run to the bathroom if he needed to be sick again. Then she looked up concussion on her phone – it said that if he’d woken up after being knocked out then he needed to go to hospital; she wasn’t sure how she was meant to get him there now that he was unconscious again.

Julie decided to wait until he woke up again. She laid down beside him on the bed and pressed the gentlest of kisses to his forehead.

“You’re such an idiot,” she whispered. “I love you.”

Julie loved her boys usually, but sometimes she really believed they lacked the common sense necessary for general survival.

“You did what?!”

Luke, Alex, and Reggie looked between each other frantically, stuttering for excuses.

“Uuuuhhhh…”

“Nothing really out of the ordinary, I don’t think.”

“Pretty sure it was actually you who did something they shouldn’t have.”

Julie raised her hands and the boys silenced. She glared at them, half furious and half exasperated.

“Are you seriously telling me – or rather not telling me – that after all the times I specifically told you it would be a bad idea, you went and got hotdogs that were being sold out of the back of an Oldsmobile?”

“In our defence,” Reggie piped up, raising his hand like a kid answering a question in class, “they smelled really good.”

“Wish they’d tasted as good as they smelled,” Luke grumbled. Alex hit him.

“I have never met anyone with less common sense!” Julie yelled, waving her arms. “What is wrong with you? What made you think it’d be a good idea? How did you not think that it was the dodgiest set up for any fast food ever?”

“Relax,” Reggie said, “street dogs haven’t killed us yet.”

The highly questionable hotdogs did not, in fact, kill them. However, the next day all three boys were overcome with food poisoning so horrible that Julie simply could not take care of them all by herself.

That morning she sent a quick text to Willie to offload Alex to him: Come and get your dumb boyfriend, he and his idiot friends ate bad hotdogs and got sick, you can take one. Twenty minutes later, Willie showed up to take Alex back to his apartment, an ungodly amount of blankets in his hands when he arrived at the apartment.

Reggie was the least ill – he could pretty much take care of himself and at the very least he wasn’t throwing up everywhere. He stayed on the couch, watching some cartoon on repeat. Julie let him be.

Luke, on the other hand, was quite the task. He was feeling and looking absolutely dreadful, unable to move himself from his bed and being sick whenever he tried to do so much as drink a glass of water. Julie truly had her hands full trying to take care of him.

Despite his protests, she called the studio and cancelled their appointment with Luke today. He was in no fit state to record any hit songs right then; he could hardly even open his mouth without sick coming out of it.

Feeling particularly frazzled, Julie finally allowed herself a little break from rushing around after Luke to relax, just for a moment. She settled herself comfortably onto the bed beside Luke once his sickness had calmed down a bit and fired up Netflix. She could feel his doleful eyes on her as she selected a movie and let it play.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked.

“Are you apologising for being sick or for eating those hotdogs even though I told you not to?” she questioned.

Luke had the good grace to look a little ashamed. “Both.”

Julie shifted a little to wrap her arms around Luke’s midriff. “Don’t apologise for being sick. It is your fault, but don’t say sorry for it. I will accept your apology for disobeying me though.”

Luke rested his head against Julie’s shoulders, shuffling further into the covers. “We should have listened to you, I know. But if you could have just smelled those hotdogs…”

“Yeah, I’m sure they smelled great mingling with the stench of petrol,” Julie deadpanned. “I’m starting to think you three need constant adult supervision.”

“We are adults.”

“That’s why I’m so worried.”

Luke huffed a laugh, but then frowned. “I feel bad. You’re always the one taking care of me. Just once I want to take care of you.”

Julie raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want me to get sick?”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that,” he said hurriedly, even though Julie had been joking. “I just meant that you do such a good job with this every time. I want to give you a break.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Julie assured him. “But… if I ever do get sick, I’ll make sure to come straight to you and you can take care of me. Deal?”

“Deal,” Luke said with a soft smile.

It had been many years since Luke had been really sick. Julie had naively thought that maybe they’d get lucky and he’d never be sick again. Maybe his laughable immune system had finally caught up and had strengthened itself against what most people could avoid easily.

Wishful thinking.

Flu season was set to ruin Julie’s life. She had woken up one Monday morning and followed her usual routine, heading to her daughter’s bedroom to wake her up for preschool. She had shaken little Rose awake, but the three-year-old had been extremely hot.

“Oh, sweetie,” Julie had said gently. “Are you feeling sick?”

Rose, rubbing her teary tired eyes, had nodded and cried very quietly.

Julie had pulled her into a hug. “Okay, honey. You go back to sleep. It’s alright.”

She laid Rose back down, tucked her back in, and encouraged her to sleep. It took a long time and a lot of tears from Rose, but eventually the little girl drifted back into a fitful slumber. Feeling like all she wanted to do was go to sleep herself, Julie headed back to her own bedroom and shook Luke awake.

“Luke,” she whispered. “Rose is sick. I’m going to call the preschool and tell them she won’t be in, but then I’ve got to get to the studio. You think you can take care of her today?”

Luke sleepily opened his eyes and groaned as he shifted into a sitting position. He held a hand to his head – it looked far too similar to him steadying his balance for Julie’s liking.

She sighed. “Please don’t tell me you’re sick as well?”

Luke tried for a smile. “No, no, I’m alright. I’ll take care of Rose, don’t worry.”

He tried to swing himself out of bed, but Julie didn’t miss the way that the sudden movement made him wince. That and the fact that he clapped a hand to his mouth, the other held over his stomach. Unsteadily, he got to his feet and headed to the bathroom. A few minutes later, he came back to the bedroom looking sheepish.

“I’m sick too,” he said quietly.

Julie sighed haggardly and looked to the alarm clock on her bedside table. She needed to be at the studio to start her recording session in half an hour, but no part of her was willing to leave her husband and daughter alone while both of them were seeming awfully ill. She quickly made her decision.

“You get back to bed,” she said gently to Luke, taking his hand and leading him back to the bed.

“No, I need to get Rose,” he said, but he grudgingly followed her.

“I’m going to get Rose,” Julie told him as she sat him down and tucked him in. “I’ll bring her here and you can stay snuggled up together. I’ll call the preschool, run some errands, and I’ll check on you both later, okay?”

Luke nodded and lifted Julie’s hand to his lips as if to kiss it, then seemed to think better of it and dropped it. “Okay. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Julie went back to Rose’s room. The little girl was fast asleep, wriggling around a little as she dreamt, her black curls that were the same as her mother’s spread out over her pillow. Gently, Julie picked her up and held her tightly to her chest, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head as she carried her to her own bedroom.

Luke smiled as Julie entered the room with Rose cradled in her arms. He lifted up the duvet so that Julie could lay Rose down beside him. As she put Rose down, the little girl woke up. She looked around, seeming surprised to have been moved. Then she began to cry very, very quietly.

“Dada,” she wailed, tiny fists clutching at Luke’s pyjama top. “Mama!”

Julie was exhausted. She could see a long day ahead of her, looking after both of the most important people in her life as they battled this disgusting illness. But as she looked at them – tearful little Rose snuggled up with Luke, who had his arms around her tightly, stroking her back soothingly as he whispered shushes – she felt a little bit of that exhaustion melt away, replaced with love.

She perched herself on the bed. “Rosie,” she whispered, tucking one of Rose’s stray hairs behind her ear. “If you quiet down, Mama will sing you a lullaby.”

Luke’s eyes widened. Behind the bloodshot sickness, Julie could see the love and admiration he had for her in them. She beamed at him, and he smiled back as if in awe of her. She felt her heart swell with love.

Rose hushed a little and Julie began the lullaby that her own mother had sung to her when she was little. It was a traditional little rhyme, simple and easy, but the beautiful melismatic notes strung together like bunting made the rising melodies sound ethereally pretty. It had always been one of Julie’s favourite songs.

Rose fell back asleep, huddled in Luke’s arms. Luke reached his hand out of took Julie’s hand.

“You’re perfect,” he mouthed, trying not to wake Rose.

Julie smiled, gently kissed his hand, and finally got up to phone the preschool.

Julie never got sick. It wasn’t in her nature. It just didn’t happen.

Except for that one time.

Julie woke up with the highest temperature the thermometer had ever recorded, her head was spinning like she was on a rollercoaster, and her muscles felt so fatigued that she couldn’t get out of bed.

And yet, she said to Luke, “I swear I’m fine.”

Luke, in a rare moment of knowledge and common sense, didn’t take her word for it. He seemed almost excited for her sickness – Julie wasn’t sure how to feel about that – and he pulled her into a tight hug.

“No,” he said firmly, “you’re sick. I’m going to take care of you.”

And he did. The very next thing Luke did was make Julie up a hot water bottle and bring it to her to help combat her chills, then he brought her three boxes of paracetamol and an entire pitcher of water. He called the doctor’s office for advice, then dragged the entire television set up to his and Julie’s room from downstairs. He got Rose ready for school and before he left the house he assured Julie that he would be back soon and she didn’t need to worry and, “If you need anything, just call me and I’ll come straight back.”

Julie couldn’t help but smile despite her tiredness and awful feeling. “I’ll be fine, Luke. Get Rose to school before she’s late.”

“I love you,” Luke said.

Rose, stood at the end of Julie’s bed, said, “Love you, Mama!”

“I love you, Rosie. Have a good day.”

Julie watched the love of her life and her perfect daughter leave the room and listened to their footsteps heading downstairs. Maybe she felt absolutely terrible and perhaps like she was going to be sick, but when she had someone like Luke looking after her it didn’t feel quite so dreadful.

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juniaships · 3 years

Text

Jora Holiday Bio **Update 2021**

The following paragraphs contains information exclusively for the original series.

Full Name: Jora Ladybird Holiday

Age: 9, 29 (Ben10000); 39 (Ken 10)

Birthday: March 31/April 1 (she was born 11:59pm on March 31)

Species: Human

Race: African American

Fandom: Ben 10 (classic&reboot), The Secret Saturdays (crossover), Generator Rex (crossover), Cartoon Network/CN City (crossover)

Voice Claim: Kimberly Brooks; Brandy Norwood is another alternate choice

Character Role: Friend and love interest to Ben Tennyson

Powers/Abilities: Rot Inducement, Mycokinesis, Poison/Toxin Immunity, Self Healing/Regeneration, Moderate Chronokinesis (Time-Acceleration)

Items: Vials, Mini Lab, Gloves

Relationships

Family: Jeremy (father), Mavis (mother), Tasha (sister), Pattibelle (first cousin) Ginger (family friend); Kenny, Kendrix & Belle (future children), Devlin (adopted son/cousin in law(?))

Friends: Ben & Gwen Tennyson, Max Tennyson, Cooper Daniels, Richard Mortis, Mama G (future mentor)

Acquaintances: Ginger T. Glass, Tamika

Love Interest: Ben is her primary love interest, as seen with their eventual future together as well as hints and blatant displays of "puppy love."

Enemies: Pretty much every villain in this show; her personal arch-nemesis is Kudzu, a lifestyle expert & entrepreneur who initially tried to gentrify Jora's neighborhood & ruin her family's business. Other villains include Master Mortis (Richard's creator), and Kudzu's bounty hunters.

Appearance

- Dark Skinned African American girl

- Chubby, shorter than Ben and Gwen

- Has dark brown hair styled in twisted pigtails, pink hair scrunchies

- Black Bead Eyes//dark brown

- Wears lilac lacy gloves

- Wears three different outfits through the show:

- Season 1: Yellow t-shirt, pink shorts, beige sandals

- Seasons 2&3: Pink and Yellow striped tank top, orange skirt, and same sandals

- Season 4: Pink and white t-shirt, yellow capris with orange belt, and purple shoes

Personality

A sweet and quiet girl, Jora Holiday did not consider herself to be special. She lacked friends in school and kept to herself out of fear of getting bullied. This was because she had to deal with her mutant powers since they came into fruition as a very small child. Jora normally tries to avoid or deflate conflict, though deep down she does get a little fed up with playing peacemaker if the squabbling persists. Jora is compassionate and humble, never boastful but also bashful when it comes to compliments and praise. Of the four kids she is regarded as the nicest.

Because of her powers Jora has clean freak tendencies in her desire to look as normal as possible. She tried to avoid gross situations, although later down the line she learns it's okay to dirty her gloves - literally.

But with sweetness comes sourness, as she does have a passive-aggressive side towards slights, whether real or perceived. She didn't get along with Tasha, feeling as though the latter didn't care for her (which isn't true). Jora tends to be oversensitive and takes things too personally, ans even can be prone to tears if provoked hard enough. She also bears lingering resentment and shame over the partial ailments her element brings; these feelings fade away over time as she grows to accept her powers and adapt to her condition. One of her biggest flaws is her timidness and inability to stand up for herself and others. She also didn't get along with Ben for a while, though they get better quickly.

Jora has a love of nature, as shown with her hobby of collecting flowers and mushrooms. She despises animal abuse of any kind, and strives to be a bit more conscious of the environment. She also seems to have no phobia towards bugs, and thus is the designated "spider catcher" on the Rust Bucket.

Jora has a passion for fashion and a girly sense of style, preferring to dress in bright or pastel colors. Her love of nature and love of fashion could lead to a career based on environmentally friendly beauty products.

Ben 10000: Lavender shortsleeved dress and white apron

Adult Appearance

When she grows up Jora is considerably more capable of handling herself. She gets upset when people see and treat her as a fragile thing, seeing as though they don't trust her. She also is very in tune with nature, spending her days off on long walks in the forests, or at her homemade lab making potions.

In this timeline she was a waitress who worked after shifts as a vigilante. At the time the Hero of Heroes didn't know who this mysterious woman was, although he was struck by familiar feelings.

Ken 10: Mint Green blouse and pink maxiskirt with pink wristwatch (which is actually her transformation device)

Costume: White bodysuit with light purple accents, helmet and visor.

Powers:

Jora has the element of Decay (&Rebirth), which enables her to induce decomposition in organic material.

Techniques

- While not proficient at hand to hand she can run fast in short bursts and have stamina

- Generate spore clouds to obscure vision and block a person's airways

- Increase or decrease the rate the decay

- Increase or decrease the size of mushrooms, from giant prehistoric constructs to miniature samples to be used for medicine

- Create a slippery puddle of rot to make opponents fall

- Throw globs of inky, rotting matter to create fungus or for long range

- Autumn Leaf Tornado

- Create Penicillin (first "upgrade")

- Able to "purify" corrupted Mycellium in the episode "Camp Fear"

- Scavenger-animal Empathy

- Forensics (adult level)

- Fossil Fuel Manipulation (adult level)

- Floral Manipulation (adult level, possibly teen)

- Acid Spit (adult level)

- Hallucinations (teen level)

Weaknesses

- Her power has little to no effect on material such as metal, glass, synthetic fabrics, stones

- Has to wear her gloves at all times which can be tedious and uncomfortable

- Lacks strength and hand-to-hand proficiency

- Weak to extreme heat & cold

- Shroom Constructs can be easily destroyed if not continually reinforced

- Unable to control her powers if under extreme duress

- Requires weapons to compensate for elemental weaknesses

- Requires a source for better potency

Strengths

- Immune to Time related attacks since her powers are considered a form of chronokinesis

- Create healing potions

- Immune to mycotoxins and can decrease and even render dangerous mushrooms safe for consumption (handy for outdoor missions)

- Powers seem to increase in wet environments, the Moon

- Her kind gentle personality makes it easier for her to restrain the dangerous potential of her abilities

- Memorized enough species of fungi and has her own mini lab to safely store and carry samples

- Natural empathy towards others

- Quick learner, continually studies her powers and traits to adapt

Background

Born the second child to floral shop owners Jeremy and Mavis Holiday, Jora had a normal childhood in the comfy small town of Annville, SC. A quiet child, she spent after-school helping around the shop. They were small yet popular with the townsfolk, reputed for their knowledge of plants and colorful arrangements. However that normalcy took a detour when Jora's powers camemto fruition.

When people started to notice more and more plants dying, that in turn led to decrease in customers and soon the shop began to undergo financial trouble. One day, a beautiful woman named Kudzu came into the store offering to buy the place from Jeremy. See, Kudzu was one of the wealthiest and powerful people in town. He refused. The next day Kudzu came again with another proposition. Again Jeremy refused. This occurred all through the week, until finally a very irritated Mavis demanded Kudzu to leave their family alone. That time, Kudzu left and didn't ame back after that. The couple was relieved. Jora was nervous.

One day, just as Tasha and Jora were at the last day of school anf thr parents were off to cash in their winning lottery ticket, the floral shop caught fire! The firefighters were called and put out the blaze, but it left their shop and home in charred ruins.

Jora felt very guilty: if she never had her powers, there wouldn't have been such an awful domino effect. The fire was ruled as a freak accident, however Jeremy and Mavis believed that other forces were at work. They couldn't prove their theories as their suspect had too much power and leverage to be fought one on one. So they came up with a plan: they would spend the summer working to add money to the saved money while their kids go out of town. Mavis called upon an old friend from trade school to take the girls on vacation (somewhere safe from Kudzu).

The next couple of days after staying at a shelter, the girls were able to buy a few new outfits and essentials and told to wait for a brown and white RV. When the RV arrived, out came a older gentlemen in a bright scarlet Hawaiian shirt, with two children trailing behind him. He introduced himself as Max Tennyson, and the two kids were his grandchildren Ben and Gwen.

Trivia

Jora has a nature motif to contrast Ben's aliens and Gwen's magic.

Overall Jora is the most normal member of the team; her family has no connection to the Plumbers or magic.

Jora doesn't have signature color, the closest would be pink and yellow since those are colors she tends to wear the most of.

I made Jora so that there'd be another main girl in the cast and because the show didn't have a black female character (despite having nonwhite female characters of other ethnicities, and black male characters)

She does not have a major role in UAF; instead her storyline is seen as a spinoff (think Static Shock to the Justice League) focusing on smaller-scale plots with occasional cameos from main cast

Jora does come back in Omniverse to replace Gwen as the female lead; she is joined by Dr. Azura (Secret Saturdays OC), Myra Hopewell (GenRex), Ginger T. Glass, and her cousin Patti.

It is unknown whether her power is genetics or a random mutation.

In the Ben 10000 timeline she and Ben broke up because Ben tried to forbid her from going on active missions as a way to keep her safe. Obviously she didn't like that and left. They do reconcile at the end of the episode.

Out of my OCs for this fandom Jora is the lead character, followed by Kendrix

Jora's powers can vary based on the type of fungi she's using at the time. So her colors could range from inky-black to a gorgeous green

She is a candidate to take on the mantle of Mother Nature (currently held by Mama G)

Her hobbies are: reading comics and books primarily fantasy genre, costume design, hiking, floral pressing, DIY crafts, and insects

Due to her timid nature she has a fear of public speaking.

I don't have a claim for her in the live action films sorry!!

Jora is a foil for Kevin in that she was born with destructive powers. Unlike Kevin, she learned to rely on friends to help her stabilize her powers.

- A recurring subplot is the girls encountering and escaping from Kudzu's hired goons sent to track them down.

Jora was going to have standard plants and flowers as her power but I wanted to go for nontraditional elements instead.

The irony is that she's a softie dressed in bright colors and respects life, yet has a power related to death.

- At the end of the show she reunites with her parents and they're able to rebuild their business. She also stands up to Kudzu and exposes the woman for the rotten POS she is

Quotes:

"Pot, meet kettle. Kettle, meet face!"

"I like comic books. My favorite is the Fantasia Legends."

"If you're supposed to be Lucky Girl then why dress up like a black cat?"

"There's a lot of stories hidden beneath these trees. You just gotta know where to look."

"I'm not that scared little girl you used to pick on, Ben. I think you know I can take care of myself."

"Look I didn't get to choose my powers okay! But Kudzu chose to set our family's house on fire and I'm not gonna sit back and watch her hurt anyone else!"

"It's okay. I'll help you."

"It's called having good manners. You should try it sometimes."

"Leave. Them. Alone!"

"Please let this be a normal day this time!"

"You're like a mushroom. Unassuming at first, but something unique and vibrant!"

"Ben I don't know how to say this but... you're not alone. Don't ever think you're alone."

"I hope you'll be able to see that there's more to life than just money and business but until that day comes, we'll all do very well without you!"

"I may make things rot but the both of you are rotten to the core!"

Recent Pictures

Reference sheets for Omniverse

Sketches:

#oc bio #fyeahocsofcolor #ben 10 #ben 10 original series #ben 10 oc #oc: jora holiday #canon x oc #love interest #oc x canon

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amphtaminedreams · 3 years

Text

COVID-19, Negligent Manslaughter, and a Timeline of Tory Indifference

“I feel sorry for Boris Johnson. He is doing the best he can in the situation and I don’t think anybody else could have done a better job.”

[exhibit A: a gem somebody that I’m Facebook friends with reposted earlier]

It’s a sentiment that I cannot quite wrap my head around. I sit here hopeless and furious and trying to hold back tears because it’s been almost a year since England first went into lockdown and yet here we are, almost 100,000 dead, in an even worse position than we were before whilst other countries begin to slowly return to normality. It is clear to me who is to blame for this, however there are a large proportion of people who don’t want to “politicise” the actions of the PRIME MINISTER with regards to his approach towards handling a virus sweeping the country he GOVERNS.

Typically, these kind of posts making the rounds on social media will be accompanied by some kind of photo of Boris Johnson looking somber as if to suggest that the way things have played out were beyond his control and that he is some kind of broken man beleaguered by the suffering he has, despite good intentions, inadvertently caused.

This one in particular of Johnson with his head in his hands is a staple. In reality, this is a photo taken back in 2018 whilst he was receiving flack from party members for comparing Theresa May to a suicide bomber (for her handling of Brexit, ironically) as well as from the papers due to his rumoured (now also proven, in a completely non-surprising turn of events, to be true) affair with his former aide, Carrie Symonds.

So let’s shut this narrative-where we should feel for Boris because he’s doing his best, and apparently a better job than anybody else could’ve done in his situation- down right here. In a supposedly developed country with one of the world’s largest economies, if we’re talking by proportion, our COVID-19 death toll is up there with the worst of them. It seems that every other state figurehead (bar a small handful), and I mean almost every single one of them, is doing a better job. People love to throw figures out there about how densely populated we are to combat damning statistics as if we haven’t got just as many factors playing to our advantage, as if it’s unfair to compare our response to Germany’s or Japan’s or Singapore’s (both of which are far more densely populated) or New Zealand’s or Vietnam’s, but we are an ISLAND with world-leading technology and infrastructure and healthcare equipment and professionals and a relatively high standard of living. In what world is almost 70,000 dead in a country with abundant time and means to prepare a response reflective of said country’s leaders doing a good job?

Apparently we’re supposed to believe that Johnson feels some sense of moral responsibility for this astronomical failure. A man who refuses to acknowledge the multiple children he has fathered outside of his marriages and who has had repeatedly engaged in affairs and one-night stands throughout said marriages. A man who continued to cheat whilst his most recent wife was receiving treatment for cervical cancer, for fuck’s sake. Yep, a real stand-up guy.

So where does this idea that Johnson must feel remorseful for this catastrophe come from? We haven’t seen a second of remorse or a hint of accountability for the lives lost from him nor any members of his cabinet. That much is really no surprise; I have this hypothesis, and it’s not a stretch, that these people do not have an ounce of empathy in their bodies. These ridiculously privileged, privately-educated individuals who have had everything handed to them their entire lives simply cannot put themselves in the shoes of the average working person and that is the problem. Unable to recognise that what distinguishes them from most others is little more than the luck of being born into wealth and the abundance of recourses and connections that has entailed throughout their lives, they see us as beneath them-as less intelligent, less driven, and thus less deserving of the status and respect they enjoy. They see us as a bunch of whining, unmotivated idiots who do not recognise the chokehold they have over our media nor the fact that everything they do is a desperate grab to keep money and power within the hands of a select group of people, an exclusive members club from which most of us are barred (just take a simple Google search and watch Jacob Rees-Mogg’s opinion of the Grenfell victims or the buried Johnson speech where he talks about how inequality is essential). They know that we will squabble amongst ourselves about who is to blame rather than wising up to the truth which is that every decision they make is fuelled by cronyism and the inability to make and follow through with difficult choices, the pandemic being no exception. The supposedly self-made elite see the life of the average working class person as having far less value than their own, and their parties actions over the last 10 years have made that very clear.

It was in December 2019 that the first case of COVID-19 was declared to the World Health Organisation and on March the 11th that they announced they considered it as a pandemic. In Wuhan, people were dying of pneumonia in their clusters. And what was Boris Johnson doing in this time? Well for starters, here in the UK we didn’t even have a pandemic committee-Johnson had scrapped it six months before. If years of benefits cuts and defunding of the NHS in favour of funding nuclear weapon programs, keeping British troops on other people’s lands, and tax breaks for the mega corporations that donate to their party didn’t convince you that the Conservatives have little regard for human life, them getting rid of this committee-whilst a pandemic has been declared year after year as the greatest threat to mankind-should have been the first sign of trouble. As if that wasn’t enough, he also skipped five of the COBRA (meetings are made up of a cross-departmental committee put together to respond to national emergencies and PMs routinely attend those pertaining to crises on the scale of COVID-19) meetings addressing the situation. Whilst other countries were closing their borders and stocking up on PPE, Johnson and his ministers were selling PPE abroad and simply telling people to wash their hands to the length of the tune of happy birthday. Their only policy was one of “herd immunity”, which was in fact not a policy but just an abandonment of their party’s public duty disguised as one, intentionally obfuscated with pseudoscientific jargon.

Even thinking the absolute worst of politicians you would hope that when it came to the point where the UK’s non-response to COVID-19 was becoming an international disgrace, Johnson and his ministers would take proper protective measures if only to save face. But when they eventually seemed to do so, it became clear that the priority was not the safety of the ordinary people affected by the virus. Outsourcing their test and traces system to companies such as Serco, Sitel, Deloitte and G4S rather than public health services, Conservative ministers could not resist attempting to line the pockets of their friends and benefactors in the process. According to the Guardian, instead of reaching out to the experts or using publicly funded services to handle COVID containment measures, the Conservative party has awarded a disgusting £1.5 BILLION WORTH of contracts to businesses with explicit connections to its MPs and donors, the majority of which lack any relative experience of the tasks they’ve been trusted to carry out. Unsurprisingly, the National Audit office found that when awarding contracts relating to the production of COVID-19 protection measures and treatment needs, there was a “high-priority lane” for suppliers referred by senior politicians and officials; companies with a political referral were 10 times more likely to end up winning a government contract than those without. On top of this, it is not hard to draw a link between the late initiation of lockdown measures and preemptive openings of pubs and restaurants against scientific advice to the interests of frequent donors such as Wetherspoons owner Tim Martin. Even if one chooses to ignore the blatantly obvious correlation between the owners of the businesses whose profits were prioritised over safety concerns and the number of those owners who donate to the Conservatives, party officials at the very least were reluctant to follow the lead of many other countries in financing furlough schemes themselves and instead avoided this responsibility by using loose lockdown measures to leave it down to the discretion of small business owners, who couldn’t themselves afford to furlough staff, whether or not to stay open.

Time and time again, as the government flounder and fuck about, favouring personal desires to keep their powerful, high-paying jobs and to satisfy the corporate allies who make this possible, blame has been shifted from the public to care homes to NHS workers and back again whilst we, the public, make the biggest sacrifices of all under the illusion that we were being guided out of this pandemic rather than lied to and thrown under the bus. Whilst the elite continue to pick and choose what rules apply to them, it’s students and the elderly and the vulnerable paying the fines and scrabbling to afford basic living costs and hoping that they don’t lose someone dear to them.

Don’t get me wrong, a large proportion of the public have contributed to the spread too with their selfishness and entitlement and the arrogance it takes to develop a sudden refusal to acknowledge basic science from experts who have studied in the field their whole lives so that they can justify their need to go to the pub (speaking of, it’s absolutely HILARIOUS how many “mental health advocates” are suddenly coming out of the woodworks on football avi Twitter after they’ve spent years calling people on mental health Twitter attention seekers). And don't get me wrong, there were inevitably going to be casualties of this pandemic. But it didn't have to spread to this many people, and there didn’t have to be so many deaths due to a lack of preparation, and this wouldn’t have been the case if it weren’t for the inherent apathy of the Conservative party towards the lives of people of lesser status than them, the reluctance to put those lives before party interests. I wish I felt like there was an end in sight, I wish there was some positive takeaway from all of this, but even now, we continue to see corners being cut with the vaccine lauded as our saving grace and anti-maskers gathering outside hospitals to chant about how “oppressive” it is to be urged to wear a bit of cloth over their faces for the short periods of time in which they leave their houses and all I can think of is the selfishness that runs like poison through our country. It makes me sick and leaves me to question desperately where we go from here. I don’t like unanswered questions, I don’t like feeling politically directionless, and I don’t like the growing fear I have about the state of the world which seems to intensify every single day. In the UK at least, it’s starting to feel like nothing will ever change-we’re told we live in a democracy and yet mainstream media is owned by the people whose interest is to keep their Conservative friends in power. The stronghold they have over print media in particular allows them to continually get away with smearing and defaming every person who comes along and seems to want to actually help ordinary people, without being challenged, to the point where the only kind of “opposition” we’re left with promises nothing but a big boss approved tactical reshuffling of the status quo (which they call “electability”); it doesn’t feel like democracy when the majority of the country are being fed misleading information and convinced against voting in their best interests.

This is the result of that. The state we find ourselves in is the inevitable result of being manipulated into helping the elite build their protective wall whilst the rest of us scrabble to get in and step on each others heads along the way, the people inside shouting over that it’s those even more vulnerable than ourselves that are taking our places. Outside the wall, the earth is falling from beneath our feet, and instead of throwing over the ropes to help us out, the people inside are stockpiling them so they can secure their firm place above ground and then later flog the rest. How many more people have to die before we reach some kind of widespread realisation of that? Where do we go from here and what do we do? Well for one, we can stop spreading those god-fucking-awful textposts on Facebook and get our heads out of our arses. Wear our masks over and wear them over our fucking noses. Have some fucking consideration for others. Don’t wait til an issue affects you personally to give a fuck about it. AND START HOLDING THE FUCKING PRIME MINISTER AND HIS MINISTERS AND HIS ENTIRE PARTY AS WELL AS THE OPPOSITION MPS THAT HAVE SAT BY THE SIDELINES AND ALLOWED THIS TO GO ON WITHOUT PROTEST ACCOUNTABLE. That would be a good start.

I’m so tired. Things didn’t need to be this way, and yet because of the selfishness of the few, thousands upon thousands are dead. It’s not about “throwing around blame”, it’s not about “throwing around” anything, it’s about expecting a leader to do his best to protect lives. If that is “throwing blame”, let’s get things clear, I have no issue with hurtling it torpedo style at those who handed out a death sentence to so many in this country rather than do anything that might compromise their own privilege. Honestly, pass me the shovel after and I’ll happily bury the wreckage in the ground. Who wants to join?:-)

#rant #politics #anti capitalism #anticapitalist #covid-19 #covid #england #labour #socialism #fuck the tories #fuck the torys #fuck boris #rant post

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babblable · 3 years

Note

SO, I am so sorry, but I can't decide what to ask for the character ask meme, so I'm asking EVERYTHING for Jackie pls forgive me ;w;

1. How likely are they to have a stuffed animal? What kind? How many?

They currently only have one stuffed animal atm. Their Sheepy Sleep Sheep. Or Fluffy as Jackie calls it!

If they had any more stuffed animals, they'd name every one of them. They do not though, only got the one.

2. What does their bedroom look like?

Currently, unless they're bunking with Abbigull in her captains quarters, it looks like your regular Salty Squabble barracks. I don't know if they're able to personalize it or not, due to the barracks being for crewmates hired for short voyages rather than long staying family.

Regardless, their room has always been pretty empty. Jackie doesn't have a lot of belongings. They didn't have enough to fill their studio apartment and what they had there is all being abandoned due to Reasons™️. They certainly don't have enough to fill a room right now.

3. Do they collect things for themselves? What do they collect?

Things to chew on, mostly? And Jackie, the child brained dumbass that they are, will put damn near anything in their mouth. They also like to collect gears, bits, bobs, screws, small pieces of metal and tools, though! Also anything dinosaur related. They LOVE dinosaurs.

4. Do they cuddle/snuggull/hug in their sleep? Do they talk in their sleep?

Jackie is the kind of toon that needs pressure when they sleep and thus snuggulls Very Much Into Things, but really only allows two birds, a dog and maybe a rat they've known for a while to be PEOPLE they snuggull into. Otherwise, they mostly just burrow into blankets and hug Fluffy.

5. What are they most afraid of? Does it cause them nightmares? How bad?

Haha, Listen to Warships for your answer to this one! :D

6. How do they respond to stress? Any habits they have when stressed?

Oh boy. They respond to stress mostly by becoming irritable and itchy. If it gets bad enough, they begin to stress molt and combined with their scratching? Depending on what causes it as well, they have gotten physically ill and lost their lunch before. Not Good. Tbh though, Jackie is easily prone to stressing out. They may not look/show it, but this penguin is a ball of anxiety with damn near no skills to manage it, yet.

7. Do they prefer warm, mild or cold baths/showers?

Warm baths, tbh! Showers are nice but they're small and sometimes the strength of the water from the showerhead hurts. Also, they can't splash around as easily in a shower, so not as fun! Don't expect them to come out actually clean though. They learned how to bathe from their dog Todd.

8. What's their view on socks/shoes/pants?

They wear pants usually anyways, so their viewpoint on those is just: [Meh!]

Socks and shoes though? That's a different story. They can't wear socks bc of their talons, but they can wear shoes! It's a learning process, tbh, but they're doing it! They can't figure out how to tie them though. Hmm...

9. Do they like ice in their drinks? how much?

Yes and no. Depending on the drink. They don't drink as many cold beverages as they used to anymore, but when they do, it's usually either icy cold or has plenty of ice in it.

10. Do they have a comforter? What is it?

Yes! Fluffy! Their Sheepy Sleep Sheep!

11. Favorite article of clothing/accessory? Favorite home decoration?

Hmm... Probably their light up sneakers! As for their favorite home decor... they don't really have any.

12. If they could live anywhere, where would it be? What kind of house would they have?

A lighthouse by the shore! With a sunrock to lay on!

13. Favorite game to play with family/friends?

Any game! Even dangerous ones!

14. Favorite moment in their life right now?

Hm... Perhaps their Mama Abbigull holding them til they fell asleep in the nest in the drifting cube. They had never felt more safe than in that moment, in the arms of their Mama after such a frightful day.

15. If they could have any pet, what would it be?

A frog! But they really really do love their dog Todd. He's a very good boy! The BEST Boy!

16. Chili, Soup, Stew or Other? What kind is their favorite? Why?

Soup! Jackie gets colds easy and soups are lighter on their already sensitive belly than the other two.

17. What's their opinion on their childhood, if they had one?

:'D Haha! Warships!

18. What's their view on their siblings?

They haven't quite adopted any yet, so I couldn't tell ya. Although one person is close enough to start being considered...

19. Who do they miss the most right now?

Their best friend, Legs and friend Bilgerat. Legs deserves an explaination the most out of all their friends and Bilgerat deserves to be told what went down, but also to enjoy his vacation.

20. What kind of touch do they need the most right now? Forehead kiss? To hold someone? To be held? [Insert other options here]?

To be held or hugged. Always. Tbh, more specifically from Abbigull and Legs.

21. What do they think their base needs are?

Water, Play, Attention, Todd, Fluffy, Sleep, Food. In that exact order.

22. Opinion on touch in general?

They Cannot Handle. It causes them severe physical pain if from a stranger, unprepared for it, and/or it lasts for too long.

23. Soft, stiff, normal or fuzzy blanket?

Soft and fuzzy!

24. Do they have a secret hideaway they retreat to?

There is a garden hidden away in one of the parks they like to go to...

25. What is their deepest desire right now? Will they work to achieve it?

To get away from Mortis. They'll do their best, but really, they have very little faith in themself and for good reason when compared to him.

26. What's something they're in denial of, if anything?

Wanting to be Bilgerats sibling. And also their worth.

27. What's something they're starting to admit to?

Abbigull being Mama Your Honor.

28. What would they do if they could go back in time?

Dare I say... leave the Glacier Rider.. They had plenty of opportunities to just. not go back to her. But they did.

29. Their favorite color?

Yellow!

30. Do they celebrate their birthday? How do they do so? How would they like to?

They've never celebrated before and honestly wouldn't unless the one person who knows when their birthday is threw them a party or did something to initiate the celebration.

31. How often do they get sick/injured? How are they when they're sick/injured? Sleepy? Needy? Bored? Fussy? [Insert Something Else]?

Jackie gets lethargic as hell and incredibly needy. Growing up a sick kid, their immune system isn't the greatest and combining that with what else they went through? Yeah, no, they're pretty prone to getting sick. It doesn't help that they really don't know what to do other than eat soup and sleep to make it better.

#leeym answers asks #ajaxx mackeller #ajaxx mobel #admiral abbigull #bilgerat

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derangedhyena-zoids · 3 years

Text

So, random headcanon blather time mainly re: Zero, One, and zoidian apocalypse bullshit since I want to note things while I’m thinking about them:

One really hasn’t changed much since I made him up. In fact he actually seeded an entire ... idk what to call it, line of personal tropes? It’s complicated.

But yhea. He’s basically the same. One is basically amoral, and views things through an extremely animalistic lens. Very short-term-goals oriented, doesn’t really think much in the long term - not because he can’t, but because he doesn’t see the point. By this same token he’s indifferent to the concept(s) of being worshiped (or not) - if it works to his advantage, cool, if not, whatever. Just don’t mess with him and he won’t care. He’s hopelessly devoted to Vega, and despite being brought into existence by the power of the Zoid Eve, fails to believe in it as a deity. He has basically no patience and very little sense of humor; what little he does have is, as one might expect, fairly morbid and dark. He thinks highly of himself and has a lot of pride, though it’s all rooted in a realistic assessment of his abilities so... can you blame him? It’s also difficult to tell because he doesn’t act prideful, in fact he doesn’t act like much at all. Most times you’d wonder if he was even listening because he doesn’t react or emote much, visibly. If he does, it’s usually anger. He has a hard time understanding nuance and lacks empathy.

Zero, however, has changed. Quite a lot.

For one, Zero’s way more of a dick now. (pre-KYH he was also WAY more of a dick because he, very literally, felt entitled to be worshiped as a god.) And while he’s extremely inclined to help people, he’s not selfless. (also, I don’t know how many people acknowledged this at the end of the No Future comic, but Zero straight-up was abandoning Zeke.) Unlike One, he has a lot of patience, and is not easily frustrated. And also unlike One, he tends to think of things on a longer timeline, though given his and the Liger’s screwed-up memory, this can be Weird. He likes to nap a lot because frankly he’s tired of the world’s bullshit. Part of the reason Bit’s having such a time in Echo with the flashbacks is because Zero’s memory is incredibly damaged, as was the Liger’s. As Zero heals/regenerates after the initial reformation in K&G, he’s regaining some of his memories because he has the ‘resources’ available to spread out and sort through things out a little better. Unfortunately those ‘resources’ are Bit. But by this same token they’re incredibly bonded, as they both are to the Liger. Historically speaking, both Zero and One were taken in by their respective “main groups” after the battle at Eveopolis. The split Death Scorpion and Zero were eventually able to defeat the Death Saurer, and Zero was then able to deal with the squabbling Scorpions. Zero was still standing at the end of all this, and was hailed as a hero. He was regarded as a leader and a savior after this, expected to help the survivors. One was out of the fight shortly after being fucked up by Zero, just as the Scorpion had initially been split. The group that saw One as the hero here were mortified to see him cast aside, and after all was said and done and they fled the city, they brought One with them. The damage that the Death Saurer had managed to do in its blithering rage was basically world-ending, though. As mentioned prior a lot of the “goo” worldwide was dried up initially or dried up shortly thereafter, severely restricting breeding grounds for Organoids and Zoids alike. A lot of the water, both surface and atmosphere, was evaporated as well, fucking up weather, temperature, soil, you name it.

(It’s STILL fucked up, albeit settled into a ‘new normal.’) The sun got blotted out, and water was scarce. Most vegetation died. This really sucked for the uh, basically-vegan Zoidians. Under the extreme conditions the Zoids and Organoids couldn’t produce anything extra to help, either.

Between air becoming unbreathable in places (from toxic metals being vaporized by heat from chain-reactions set off by the DSaurer) and the basics for survival going away, Zoids, Zoidians and Organoids alike started to die off en masse. Though the Zoids and Organoids were better able to withstand the poor conditions, they desperately tried to help their partners. As Zoidians died and Organoids panicked, feral behavior started to set in and infighting started, often destroying what remained of many groups. Tech wasn’t equal across various Zoidian nations and cultures. Some had the capsules (or similar) figured out and in place for emergencies. Some didn’t. After it was determined there weren’t any known habitable places left, those with knowledge of these capsules had started directing people to go to the locations with them. Decent groups would pick up other ailing groups if they found them and urge them to come with them. Less decent groups... well... The group that had taken One with them (surprise, Hiltz’s group) were not immune to the issues and panic setting in as everything around them started to fail. They went hard after other groups for their resources, and had no issue with slaughtering whole caravans to take their ever-dwindling supplies and eat their Zoids and Organoids. (pls note that they were already crossing ten tons of lines by doing the latter, it was almost universally considered taboo to kill Organoids except in self-defense, a longstanding rule because everyone had Organoids, and nobody wanted to deal with the consequences of losing theirs. Hiltz’s group started *targeting* the Organoids in the caravans specifically, which - after they’d killed just a few, the victim group would be in such panicked disarray it’d be easy to pick apart.) It was the Organoids who started eating the Zoidians who’d been killed, as the group’s own Zoids were thin on resources and symbiosis became impossible. One, throughout all this, was provided sufficient food to recover, and when he awoke was faced with a desperate, violent lot that pleaded for his help.

One was already fucked up at this point, but hadn’t lost much coherence yet; he was basically like “survival of the fittest, lol. I’m sure you can figure it out” ....which they basically took as permission to become outright cannibals. Anytime anyone showed signs of failing health/weakness, they were swarmed and torn apart by the group. So what basically started happening is folks masking issues to the point of collapse, at which point they... well, were still ripped apart. They also had their own capsule tech and likewise were headed to their major sites for it, albeit with great difficulty. There were several smaller sites on the way, and some especially fit survivors were placed in these, the idea being that they’d be more likely to survive in smaller groups later when they re-awoke. One was preserved along with a fair portion of (this traveling segment of) Hiltz’s group; when One’s capsule is later found and brought in by Prozen’s crews, Hiltz remembered this and finally had some hope that more Zoidians had been found. But they hadn’t been - they were all long-dead. That’s the literal point at which Hiltz lost almost all hope. Then while in such a state he basically got told off by One, which is very literally what gave him the idea he was going to go figure out the Death Saurer and Become A God and Save Zi all on his fucking own, because, well, that’s what you super reasonably do when told off by a minor deity, right? RIGHT?

(Everything in the ocean was largely okay from The Apocalypse. Zoids and Organoids who tried to carry on and function in shallower seawater were preyed upon intensely (and unable to, you know, survive doing this), because the competition for oceanic resources had skyrocketed and things had become a bit fucked up. Ultimately in NC0 times, what I’m saying is that the ocean is literally filled with giant, wild nightmare leviathan horrors and everyone who knows what’s out there just LEAVES THAT SHIT ALONE. Most people have no idea at all though, as the sea life in the shallower areas around Europa is pretty tame. HELL PLANET HELL PLANET

#headcanon #blah blah blah

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fifielady · 4 years

Text

Bourbon Choco and a Jealous Not-Boyfriend

Rating: T

Ship/s: USUK

Day 1 of @usukweek || Mistake | Canonverse

Note/s: I reaally hope this hit the prompts well-- Have fun reading, you guys!

At least the taste of bourbon on his tongue was comforting.

Canada sighed at his brother's sour attitude. "All I'm saying is that you don't have to look at it if you don't like it. The chocolates aren't even yours so you don't even have a say on mauling them."

"Easy for you to say. You weren't there when some girls blocked the hallway just to give your almost-boyfriend some chocolates. I swear, one of them had this pleased look on her face when she gave hers to Arthur." America turned to scowl at the offending confectionery sitting innocently on the meeting table. Ugh, Arthur didn't even try to hide the chocolates unlike how when America gave him a ship sculpted from dark chocolate, England's favorite flavor, on that year’s Valentines' Day. "I bet it's all melting and totally gross when he opens it."

"With the way you're glaring at it like the desert sun, I'm sure it will. And, stop sulking will you? Other nations are starting to arrive at this meeting you're hosting." Matthew lightly smacked his brother's head, moved his brooding stare in the opposite direction of the chocolates, and pulled him down to sit beside him. America tsk-ed and opened his briefcase to sort out his documents, giving dirty side-glances to Arthur who was bickering with Francis.

America wasn't sulking. He wasn't sulking about England getting three boxes of chocolate from a few people they passed at all. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not. Even. A. Bit. However, America really wished he could fling those very probably delicious sweets out the window in the rooftop of the building. Victorious cackling erupted beside him and he can't help but give England a look expressing his disapproval when he deliberately bragged about his prizes directly on the indignant face of France.

"Bah! That is injustice! Injustice, I say! Why would they even spare those renowned bourbon chocolates for someone like you? You never liked bourbon in even the littlest bit, much less bourbon-flavored chocolates." Francis exclaimed, all the while dramatically pointing a finger to England's direction. America silently agrees though he'd wonder more why anyone would even dare to give England expensive chocolates when he was around. That's just in bad taste.

"Shut up. It would be rude to refuse these after the trouble those girls had just to even find a shop that hasn't run out of these 'limited edition' chocolates." England caressed the packaged gifts as he said this with a wry smile, almost crooning to the box. Beside him, America mock-gagged and vehemently gestured at the appalling look of happiness on England's face to his brother. Canada only rolled his eyes and continued to read his papers, much to America's annoyance of being ignored while he rants about the struggles of his love life.

France harrumphed and looked down at England with disdain. "Ah, of course, I seldom forget how much of a complete gentleman you are to accept such gifts filled with devotion from someone other than your beau-- in front of him, no less! Just look at him, filled with too much melancholy to even give you attention."

Exactly! Even France gets it, you stubborn grandpa! America crossed his arms on the table and hid his face. Why can't England be more perceptive at times like this?! America screamed in frustration on the sleeves of his suit jacket. It was muffled, though, and only Canada heard him. He felt the reassuring pat of his brother on his upper back as he continued to mull over his 'petty' problem.

Yeah, America knows he and England had an 'almost-relationship' label and it wasn't really 'official' official but it was still a relationship! They eat their lunches together most of the time, had dates, visit each other's houses for months at a time. They sleep in the same bed and everything is so frustratingly wonderfully domestic, he might as well slip a ring on each of their fingers and no one will notice except him, and he and England still wouldn't have a definite description of their relationship! ...Well, maybe it was both their fault for still not saying those very-much-should-be-said three words (It's been a century, dammit! When will England finally get off his high horse and confess to him!).

His seat neighbors on his other side were still fighting. Somehow, the conversation went from the chocolates to a completely different subject and both were now insulting one another so loudly people from the other floors could hear them arguing about tablecloths. Was this how Canada felt whenever he visits him and begs him to play the newest horror game he brought with him? America shook his head. Nah, his brother must've been over-exaggerating.

America started to ignore their conversation until France said something that was maybe too out of line because the slighted man released his very much unimpressive curses (spending too much time with England made America immune and impassive to his sailor's tongue) to redeem his ass and proceeded to pull on France's most-likely designer tie. "--Care to repeat that, you snail-eating no-good-amphibian?!"

Argh! He slammed both of his hands on the meeting table and got everyone's attention. "Okay, everyone, we've got a lot covering today so we should really begin this meeting!" America nodded to Germany to begin his routine of reminding everyone that maiming another nation is strictly not allowed, even if someone used the distributed plastic folders again. And so, the conference began and America continued his silent battle of heatedly glowering at the displeasing display of chocolates that were now placed England's lap. His lap!

After the hours of squabbling and inactive criticism whenever anyone presented, it was finally time for their first break. America watches in his peripheral vision as he yawned, stretching his arms and hearing his spine crack as a ploy to observe his not-really-but-it's-serious-lover check his watch and muttering something about going to the 'loo'. England removed the chocolate boxes from his lap and stood up, placing them on top of his documents as he trudged his way to relieve himself.

America peered at his left-side neighbor, "Psst!" Canada groaned and looked pointedly at him, raising an eyebrow when America tilted his head to the boxes and boxes of chocolate. America looked around the room and noticed the other nations left and only the brothers were left in the meeting room. "Let's eat it."

"... What."

The American already reached for the topmost box and began to unravel the ribbon and tapes. "You gotta eat all these with me. C'mon, Matt, help me out once in a while, okay?"

"Wha--No! Alfred, you do realize Arthur will only get mad--"

"Fuck, look at this man. Hearts? They're giving him heart-shaped chocolates? Screw it, I was planning on eating these but these will look better outside the window." He raised up the appalling thing to Canada's face. "Look at it, it's so damn tacky, ugh."

His brother only scrunched up his nose, irritation rising, "It smells like one of your bourbons-- And put it back. Those aren't yours, and don't waste them!" He shoved the box back to America who was still scrutinizing the chocolates. Suddenly, America's eyes went wide.

"Wait, really?" He took a whiff. And another. "Oh, hey, it does smell like genuine American Bourbon," and just as quick as he held his positive interest on the confectioneries, America deadpanned, "I'm not even gonna let Arthur even see these boxes again."

"God, Alfred! I know you're jealous and all but you've got to stop--"

It was too late, America had begun swallowing down the little pieces of heart-shaped chocolates, never stopping even when a few dropped down onto the carpeted floor of the room. America doesn't care if England yells at him for touching and eating something that wasn't meant for him. He won't even blink if the other would ban him from the bed. In America's eyes, it was England's fault, to begin with. Who deliberately ignores and rejects affectionate cuddling from their not-really-but-actually-lover when they haven't even seen each other personally for three months!

America felt his eyes warm and tore open another box, while still chewing the chocolate in his mouth, against the insistent 'No!'s and 'Al, stop!'s of his brother. Not even Canada tried to understand his woes.

At least the taste of bourbon on his tongue was comforting.

-----

Arthur expected something like the loud chattering of people in a room, a few shouts here and there, and maybe America goaded enough to finally confess to him. And maybe a little bit of broken furniture out of passion. But he didn't expect America trying to squeeze the immortality out of him while looking down with such an adoring expression with those blue eyes of his when he opened the doors to the conference room.

"Aaart, Aarthuuur, Sweetheart," America was nuzzling him like a child does when given their favorite toy. "My sweetheart, darlin', you're heeeeere! I dun'... I wanna, wanna kish-- mwah!" He planted a wet one on England's cheeks, beginning to flush pink to the openly drunk affection from America and from his embarrassment. Giggling much like a child, America proceeded to hug him by the waist and slurred his words on the other's expensive vest. He was leaning against England with such an adorable look on his face. Hmm, this wasn't unwelcome at all.

It wasn't often that America got drunk. From eating alcohol-laced chocolates, at that.

"You should have brought the bourbon chocolates with you," Canada reminded him quite heatedly. "You know how he is when you receive romantic gestures from other people...!"

"Yes, it was my mistake to leave behind sweets where Alfred is sure to find them," England smiled oddly, already dragging America and himself out of the room, he paused but didn't look back, "I'll be sure to properly escort him to the hotel."

He never said when and to which hotel though.

#usukweek #hetalia #APH England #APH America #hws america #hws england #usuk #ukus #fi writes #canonverse #mistake #hetalia fandom #Hetalia Fanfiction #usuk fanfiction #axis powers hetalia #aph #hws #arthur kirkland #alfred f jones

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devintrinidad · 3 years

Text

Aw those hcs are adorable!

I like that green tea is such a staple for 1146 even cells who know him treat getting accepted by him like a pet owner does when their cat bring them a dead animal offering. At least he brings them tea instead of a dead germ. XD

I’m now being reminded of the S1 ending where Platelet sits on top of 3803’s cart. Only replace it with NC now. I can imagine all the weird looks they get when she’s carting around adult Normal Cell like he’s a child. Neither of them care. NC probably just gives off a smug ‘you wish a strong pretty girl would give you a ride on her cart all over the body’ (and he’s right. Some are jealous). But I also see Leader Platelet come running after them because she’s used to 3803 doing that for her too. Instead of making NC leave, Leader Chan plops gerself in his lap all three go on a adventure together (3803 is a disaster and curiosity magnet so eventually things could always get wild).

It’s funny to think NC is in fact very protective of her. But because he’s a Normal Cell now he’s much weaker then her. She ends up acting more protective over him and carrying him around when he can’t walk. That or she gives him piggy back rides. It probably takes him awhile to get used to this new reversal. But then he’s like 'eh she’s caring about me and that’s all that matters’. He definitely still acts very protective but he’s more of the nagging type like 5100. But he does it more grumpily. He’s actually bonded with 5100 when it comes to worrying about 3803 (which is pretty ironic). The only difference is he focuses more on how tough she is too and likes it when 3803 goes off the beaten path and does things a RBC isn’t known to do. Since 5100 thinks so little outside the box, NC also sasses her but she sasses right back and then they can squabble (in a non hostile way that never goes to the levels he and 1146 squabbles can) about how she thinks 3803 should just do as expected of her. While NC praises 3803 for doing more then what’s expected of her and even uses the time she called the Calvary on Cancer as an example (which is also ironic).

Lol, 1146 takes awhile to figure out he’s not over senstive about NC acting affectionate with 3803 because of the past (at least post finally accepting NC in their lives by giving him tea). He’s just straight up jealous and territorial. He’d hate any guy kissing her on the cheek. 3803 doesn’t mind because she actually gets that NC is not doing this out of romance (he’s just as dumb if not dumber then 1146 when it comes to that). Granted she knows he has a crush. But he’s also still very affection starved and not very good at getting social norms. He’s trying his best though and these days wouldn’t dare do anything to upset her. After awhile she notices 1146’s sheer grumpiness and NC tells her he’s upset he’s too shy to kiss her cheeks too. 3803 being 3803 quickly tells 1146 what NC told her and she informs him 'of course he can kiss her cheek too’. She waits for him to kiss her cheek but he just stands there frozen like all the life got sucked out of him. NC is trying not to laugh out loud. 3803 gets tired of waiting so - thinking it might help - she gives a quick kiss on the cheek to 1146. Then his clothes explodes off him as his face turns more red then her hair. Normally NC would get a little jealous but even he’s in a little awe by the reaction. 0_0

Normal Cell would cry tears of joy that NC managed to find two friends. That’s a lot more then he expected. He’d be such a busybody like that overly enthusiastic momma bear who’s so proud and invested in her child. NC would stop him from getting too excited over 3803 being his girlfriend because she’s not. Normal Cell also shows 1146 all of NC’s most embarrassing photos because he sees 1146 as a nice upstanding guy who is like NC’s best friend. 1146 is polite enough to leave before laughing his head off and subtly making fun of NC about it later. That’s the quickest way to get NC to behave once he realizes all the blackmail ammo 1146 has on him.

Aw, I bet 1146 gives the best hugs to 3803. He just envelopes her into his big arms and she feels so safe and warm in them. Sometimes when he’s particularly happy or sentimental, he sweeps her off her feet for a tight hug while she laughs.

I can imagine 1146 just has his iconic dour face when he’s carrying them and thinking he’s the only adult in this trio.

NC would make fun of 1146 for liking boring vanilla best. 1146 would defend his choice saying it’s vanilla Bean! Very different from ordinary vanilla. Then he’d point out lemon suits NC just fine because they’re both so sour to deal with.

Aw NC trying his best to find a good dynamic with 1146 and 1146 leaving to cool off instead of exploding at him. They’d definitely have a ways to go and NC would be grateful deep down how patient and kind 1146 really is with him. The sass will always remain but NC is definitely forcing himself to learn how to not hurt others when previously that’s what his entire existence was about. NC probably cried once when he accidently made 1146 REALLY upset. Then 1146 ended up getting flustered and giving NC way more treats then he could consume in one sitting because those tears would stop coming. That’s their weird dynamic.

NC will never stop treating 3803 like a queen. Making her happy is the one thing that eases his guilt a little. She definitely sees herself acting like a big sister for him and always accepting his gifts. She’ll pat him on the head and hope someday he’ll hate himself a little less for a life he hadn’t picked. Her forgiveness is the one thing that helps him sleep at night.

As much as NC would never admit it, he doesn’t want to ever move out of Normal Cell’s apartment. He knows he’ll get lonely without his creator and sees him as a security blanket despite all his visible annoyances over said mentor’s clingy ways. He’ll probably treat Normal Cell’s next clone like that annoying younger sibling he never asked for and is his mortal enemy by birth (you know in a normal sibling way).

~~~

Hiya! Are you new? Your email is unfamiliar to me....

Hahaha, now I’m getting images of 1146 covered head to toe in blood while dragging around the mutilated remains of a bacterium for his friends. It’s somewhat adorable but also terrifying.

That’s a great callback! I actually wanted to reference that time in 3803/NC’s relationship back in RBA (basically one of the first times they meet and 3803 saves Cancer by running for her life with Cancer hanging on for dear life in her cart). But the reference to the season one ending is also a great detail! And yes, Leader Platelet (and a few of the other platelets), also like to ride on 3803′s cart.

(Sometimes, other RBCs will get their own platelets and they’ll go have races around the body).

I am living for the friendship with NC and 5100. Although I’m pretty sure 5100 will never know the true story behind the kidnapping and NC’s true origins, they will surely bond over 3803. (But let’s face it, NC gets 3803 roped up in his shenanigans and it’s up to 5100, 4201, or 1146 to bail them out. And no. NC regrets nothing).

Protective NC is best NC, even when he’s being a sassy little child when doing so.

1146′s CLOTHES EXPLODE??? HEHAHAHAHAH! 3803 is left mystified while Dendritic Cell swoops in for a few photos.

(NC pays Dendritic Cell with a few humorous stories of 1146 in exchange for a few photos... to which Normal Cell promptly sticks into his budding scrapbook for NC).

1146 gives the best hugs. Sometimes, when he swoops 3803 in his arms, he sees NC looking off to the side, an angry blush on his cheeks. 1146 isn’t one to gloat, but that’s probably what he’s doing when he sees the look on NC’s face.

(Don’t worry... some day down the line, 1146 hugs him... but they will never admit it).

If there’s anyone interested in the Abnormalities verse and also happens to be an artist or likes to doodle... please draw grumpy 1146 holding his two friends like they’re a sack of grapes? Please? It would make my day, haha.

Hehehe, I gave NC lemon flavor because of his “lime green eyes”. But he is definitely pretty sour to begin with.

^^^ I won’t expand on it, because you worded it better than I ever could. You broke their relationship into their barest essentials.

Oooohhhh, I love the image of 3803 patting him on the head. While NC isn’t that much taller than 3803, the height difference is still apparent. I can just imagine that whenever NC gets really down or especially guilty, he hunches over himself, becomes smaller, and bows his head (reminiscent of his first reincarnation as a child trying to hide from the big, bad immune cells). When 3803 sees this, she immediately goes into mother/big sister mode and starts patting his head and smoothing his locks. Maybe she even kisses him on the forehead/cheek (depending on how she’s still dealing with the trauma).

After that, NC beams at her, but doesn’t sass or say anything.

He’s content with what she has given him.

Hehehe, I bet Normal Cell has to explain that there are rules and regulations to this sort of thing. So, they compromise. NC and Normal Cell will live on the same floor of their apartment complex and NC gets to visit whenever he wants.

(He totally comes over every day just to annoy his younger sibling).

Thanks for the lovely add ons! They were really cute and adorable! :D

#cells at work #hataraku saibou #caw #caw anon #anon ask #devintrinidad author #devintrinidad #devin trinidad author #devin trinidad #submission

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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 22

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007

She stands at the kitchen sink, watching through the window as they sit side by side at the patio table. Millie already in her pajamas, hair still damp from a bath, Tyler in a pair of weathered old sweatpants and tattered t-shirt. Their resemblance striking; same color and texture of hair, same ears and profile, even the same shaped lips and those brilliant blue eyes framed by impossibly long and dark lashes. She’s her father’s child; even more so than the boys; sharing not only physical appearance, but facial expressions and body language. Even now their faces mirror each other: eyes narrowed, and brows pinched together, mouth set in a thin, stern line. A staring contest and a battle of wills that’s lasted for more than a minute with no sign of either weakening or wavering. Millie strict and demanding over how she wants things done when it comes to her birthday invitations, her father wondering just how the hell he’d managed to get himself into such a mess in the first place. They're both ferociously stubborn; Millie even more so. And she always wins; no one is immune to that mop of hair and those eyes and that little voice.

Her father is especially weak when it comes to her. An almost six-year-old able to bring a man that size, and who possesses so much strength and power, to his knees. She’s his number one weakness; always balking at scolding her even when she deserves it, succumbing to all the begging and pleading for ‘one more’ bedtime story even though it always turns into five, finding it incredibly hard to say no and very rarely doing so. While his bond with all the kids is strong, the one with Millie is even more so. Perhaps because she’s the first after Austin’s death; a rainbow baby of sorts. Or maybe because she represents the start of his new life; his second chance. A man that had so little to live for suddenly being given everything to live for. She had been conceived in the most unconventional of place during the most unconventional of times. A little blue-eyed miracle that reminds him every day of just how lucky he is to be on this side of the ground.

“Daddy....I am telling you...” Millie finally speaks, her facial expression never changing and her eyes never wavering from his. “...you HAVE to use the glitter.”

“But I don’t want to use it. That shit gets everywhere. You do it the way you want. Then your mom can bitch at you for getting it all over the place.”

“She’ll bitch at you for letting me use glitter without supervision.”

“I am sitting right here. I am supervising.”

“But you gotta use it too,” she insists. “Or the cards won’t match.”

“They don’t have to, Martha Stewart. Relax.”

“Yes. They do have to match. Why are you being so difficult?”

“Amelia...”

She giggles. “Daddy...”

“You’re not the boss.”

“Neither are you. You just think you are. Mommy’s the boss. Your boss.”

Tyler frowns. “Is that what she said?”

“She doesn’t need to say it. It’s just the way it is. And mommy would tell you to use the glitter too.”

“You and I both know that’s bullshit. She’d never say that. She hates glitter.”

“She hates play-doh and slime,” Millie argues.

“And glitter.”

“She never said that!”

“Excuse me? Yes, she did. After your brother got mad at you and dumped a whole container of it in your backpack. Remember? When we still lived at the old house?”

“Oh yeah,” Millie scowls, then pulls her top lip between her teeth and then releases it with an audible ‘pop’. “...well I guess that means you should be really, really careful with it then.”

“I guess that means you should get someone else to help. A glitter bitch.”

“Daddy! That’s a bad word! Why do you have to give me such a hard time? Don’t be like all the other boys in the house. Please don’t.”

“How would like another brother?” Tyler counters.

She gives a dramatic gasp. “Why would you do me like that? Isn’t three enough? Why so many boys? Boys are dumb. And annoying. Except you of course.”

Grinning, he lays a hand on the top of her head and presses a noisy kiss to her temple. “You are so lucky you added that last part.”

“Why? What would you do? Nothing. Because you love me too much.”

“You know what?” His voice and face are stern at first, but then a slow grins spreads from ear to ear and he scoops her up and places her in his lap; pressing kisses against her cheeks and rubbing his beard against her skin until she’s giggling and squirming in a half assed attempt to escape; little hands on his cheeks trying to push him away, the squeals becoming even louder when his fingers dig into her stomach and start tickling.

“What?” Millie asks, when the playful assault ends, and she kneels in his lap facing him; hands delicately cradling his face, a look of pure adoration on her face as she regards him. “What daddy?”

“Get back in your seat and hand me the goddamn glitter.”

Esme laughs and then turns away from the window, busying herself with making a tea and a coffee and tidying the kitchen. The house is eerily quiet for only nine at night; both Declan and Addie fast asleep upstairs, Mac curled up under her crib, snoring lightly. Normally the twins are still tearing around. Either tormenting one another or their older sister or burning off the last of their energy in the pool or down on the beach. She misses them; the dirty handprints that she is constantly wiping off every surface, the sand that they track through every inch of the house, those little voices –and even their squabbling- and the way they eventually fall asleep either spread out on the couch with the tops of their heads touching, or on the bottom bunk pressed back to back.

They’re a handful and have been since day one; a pregnancy filled with complications and scares. But they’re a joy. Rambunctious and mischievous. Fearless to a fault. Always willing to try new adventures, as long as they’re together for them.

The sun is beginning to set as she steps out onto the patio, and the strings of solar powered white lights wrapped around the patio railings springing to life, bathing the area in a soft, almost soothing glow. And she places the steaming mug of coffee on the table in front of her husband, then lays a hand on the back of his neck and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Despite the outwardly display of confidence and the rare genuine smile that crosses his face, he’s struggling. The last couple of days have been especially rough; medications not enough to take away that edge and that sense of impending doom she knows he’s feeling. It’s so many things: TJ’s troubles, Millie’s rapidly approaching sixth birthday, the situation with Ovi and the very real possibility of having to get back in the game. But he gives her an appreciative smile and lays a hand on her hip; gently squeezing before allowing his hand to lightly slide over her ass.

“Just what are you guys doing?” she inquires and slips into the chair at the head of the table; a foot on the seat, bottom of her hoodie pulled over her knee.

“I don’t even know anymore,” Tyler admits. “I just do what I’m told.”

“We’re making birthday invitations,” Millie says. “Glittery ones.”

“Yeah...I see that...” Esme frowns, then moves her seat back from the table to avoid any wayward sparkles. “You know that crap is going to be everywhere for weeks, right?”

“Daddy already has it in his hair,” Millie giggles. “And in his beard.”

“Because you thought it would be hilarious to dump glitter in your hands and rub them all over my head,” he complains.

“It was funny!” she exclaims. “You’re going to be sparkly forever now. A sparkly daddy.”

“Like one of those vampires in Twilight,” Esme muses, and he gives her a dirty look. “Just much more handsome.”

“I have vampires,” Millie announces. “Daddy could kick their asses.”

“Damn right,” he agrees.

“Daddy would kick all the monsters’ asses, right daddy? Like you kicked all the bad guys asses. Do you miss kicking bad guys’ asses?”

“You know what I miss? I miss when you didn’t say ass every five seconds.”

“Better than the s word or the f word,” she reasons, and kneels in her chair to reach for plastic container full of pencil crayons sitting in the middle of the table. “Do you? Miss kicking the bad guys’ asses?”

“Nope,” he quickly replies. “I don’t.”

Esme knows it isn’t the entire truth; someone just doesn’t give up a job...a life...like the one he’d been leading and not experience some fall out. It’s fast paced and generous; living life constantly on edge and waiting for the other shoe to drop. Days and sometimes weeks of putting your ass on the line to help a stranger; shedding a lot of blood, sweat, and tears for that pay out in the end. The job is exhilarating; every mercenary will admit to that. That there’s a certain rush that comes with the intensity. And most won’t say it out loud, but there’s a feeling of satisfaction you get when you witness revenge and karma up close; even if it means you’re delivering them yourself with your bare hands.

His entire adult has been that existence. First the military, then the job. And there’s no way he doesn’t miss. It’s quite the change; going from that life to one of routine and domesticity.

“I bet the bad guys don’t miss you,” Millie muses. “They were tired of getting their asses kicked. But who does it now that you don’t? Who goes after the bad people?”

“Other guys,” Tyler responds.

“What other guys?”

“Guys like me. Who do that sort of thing. There’s lots of guys like that out there.”

“And girls too?”

“I guess. I suppose there’s girls out there that do that kind of thing. Mommy did.”

Esme directs a kick to his shin under the table, then shakes her head when he gives her a quizzical look.

“Mommy sort of did that job,” he quickly adds. “She helped guys like me out. She helped track down the bad people and then told guys like me where we could find them.”

“Mmmm...” Millie considers this, head cocked to the side, eyes focused on the drawing she’s creating. “....is that how you met?”

“Yup. When I used to live here before I had you or your sister or your brothers.”

“In this house?”

“Not in THIS house. In my old house. Well it wasn’t really a house. It was more like a shack. But there’s where I met mommy. A long time ago. Auntie Nik brought her there and introduced us.”

“We should go there sometime,” Millie suggests. “To your old place. To see it. Who lives there now?”

“A friend of mine. You met him a few times when you were a baby.”

“I want to go there,” she decides. “To your old place. I want to see where you met mommy. Is that where you helped put me in her tummy?”

“No. That happened somewhere else,” Esme speaks up. “In an entirely different country. In Bangladesh. A place called Dhaka. Daddy and I were working there. That’s where you were made.”

“We should go there too,” Millie concludes.

“Yeah, that’s a no from me,” Tyler says. “That’s not a place I want to go back to.”

“Is that where you almost died?”

Esme watches her husband’s face; mug pressed against her lips as she waits for his reaction. Noticing the small intake of breath and the slow, steady way he releases it. The way his shoulders tense and his leg begins to shake back and forth underneath the table.

“Yeah...” he finally speaks, then turns his attention towards the craft in front of him. His eyes are dark and that vein in his neck...the one that had to be surgically repaired after being blown out by Farhad- begins to pulsate. “...that’s where I almost died.”

“How?” Millie asks.

“You know what,” Esme comes to his aid. “This isn’t a good time to talk about these kinds of things. Not so close to bedtime, okay Millie? It will give you nightmares and as much as we love you, we don’t want you sleeping with us until you’re eighteen.”

“It won’t give me nightmares,” she argues. “I’m fine.”

“Amelia...” Her tone and her face are stern; the warning in her voice noticeable enough that her daughter looks up at her. “Not right now. Thank you.”

Silence falls on the table, no further conversation for several minutes. Nothing but the sound of the waves rolling onto the shore, the slight rustle of the trees, and the soft scrape of pencil crayons against paper. And Tyler reaches under the table to lay a hand on Esme’s thigh, squeezing lightly and giving her a small, grateful smile. There are days when he can talk openly and honestly about what happened in Dhaka. He was able to tell the therapist the whole story without even breaking a nervous sweat. But there’s other times where it’s unbearable; the memories too strong and too painful. The mental wounds still too fresh and feeling still too raw.

“Look at you,” Esme laughs, and the lays a hand on the side of his face and turns his head towards her. “You have glitter everywhere. It’s all in your beard. It looks like you went down on a stripper. I hope you don’t think you’re coming near my bits looking like that.”

He grins. “Oh, I so am.”

“Like hell you are. Last thing I need is being sparkly down there. I don’t know how you’re going to get all that out of there,” she vigorously rubs her palms against her beard, then frowns as she studies the purple and silver flecks left behind on her skin. “It couldn’t at least be a good color that brings out your eyes?”

“Might have to just shave the whole thing off,” he says.

“Like hell you will. We’ve talked about this. Do you want a divorce? Because that’s how you get a divorce.”

“You don’t even know what I look like clean shaven.”

“You’re not Tyler without a beard. Your kids won’t even recognize you. That's how they know you. That’s how I know you.”

“Don’t do it, daddy,” Millie implores. “You’ll look totally different. Like a stranger. I want you to look like daddy.”

“Two against one,” Esme says. “The beard stays.”

“You only look like the beard because when we do...well when I do...you know... you like the way it feels.”

“I’ll give you that. But it’s also because it’s rugged and manly and you look so freaking sexy with it. Even with silver and purple glitter in it. Speaking of glitter....” she stands up and picks up on of the finished creations. “...I take it she mentioned her party and you went along with it.”

“Come on, you knew I wouldn’t say no.”

“I did,” she admits. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to be completely uncomfortable and miserable, either. That’s a lot of people. Here. In your space. I know how much you value your space. So, if you think it’s too much to deal with...”

“I’ll be okay,” he says. “I’ll deal.”

She stares at him pointedly, brows arches.

“I’ll be fine, babe,” he assures her, and reaches out to lay a hand on the small of her back. “It’ll be okay. I’ll be okay.”

“Daddy’s tough,” Millie declares. “Super tough.”

“Yes,” her mother agrees. “The toughest guy I’ve ever known, that’s for sure.”

“Is that why you fell in love with him?” Millie inquires. “Because he’s tough?”

“There’s a lot of reasons why I fell with him,” Esme replies, as she sits back down in her seat and places her feet in her husband’s lap. “I guess being tough was once of them. Because I knew that I’d always be safe, and I’d have nothing to be scared of when he’s around. That he'd always be willing to protect me and be able to physically do it.”

Tyler smiles and gives her a wink, his hand giving her foot a squeeze.

“He also had really cool hair and crazy beautiful eyes,” she continues. “And big arms. Not to mention that face. Pretty damn handsome, I think. He was kind of mean though. When we first met.”

Millie’s eyes widen as she looks towards her father. “You were mean? To mommy?! Did you make her cry?”

“I did not make her cry and I was not mean.”

“Not right away,” Esme says. “But he got really mean and really bossy when we got to Dhaka.”

“Listen, your mom’s not telling you the truth,” Tyler address his little girl. “I got a little mean, yeah. You want to know why? Because even then your mommy didn’t like to listen to a word I say. And I was in charge and she did something I told her not to and she got in trouble and I got mad.”

“I just put him in his place though,” Esme says with a shrug as she sips her tea. “That just made him even more mad and even meaner. Deep down though, I think he liked it. A woman being all assertive and aggressive with him.”

“I’m not afraid to admit that I liked it. I liked it a lot.”

“That was obvious,” Esme grins, and presses her toes into his crotch.

“You think I’m tough, Millie? Your mom’s even tougher than I am. Hands down the toughest woman...person...I’ve ever met. She’s little, but she’s bad ass.”

“Like me!” Millie cheerfully exclaims.

“You’re exactly like her in a lot of ways. You know how tough someone has to be to trick the bad guys into telling her secrets and letting her know where they are? Crazy tough. When you get older, I’ll tell you a story about how she handled things in Ireland against some pretty scary people. She went in there and talked them all by herself. She wasn’t even scared. Not for a second. I was proud of her. Insanely proud.”

“Don’t make me cry,” Esme pleads, and gives him a brilliant smile. “Because my hormones are all over the place since having your daughter and I’m liable to bawl at anything.”

“Mommy’s the most amazing person I’ve ever known,” he continues. “Not a lot of people would do what she did. When she stuck around to help me in Dhaka. No one else was going to do it. I would have died if she hadn’t had been there.”

“But you didn’t,” Esme says. “And that’s all that matters.”

She hates being praised for it; truly believing that she’d done what anyone with a conscience and an ounce of compassion would have done in that situation. Ovi had been too young; there’s no way he should have had to spring into action and shoulder that kind of responsibility. But there’d been no excuse for Nik. There were other team members there; they could have easily kept the situation under control while she held; at least lending a hand to control the bleeding long enough to get him into the chopper and get both Ovi AND him out of there.

And she’ll hold that grudge for the rest of her life; every time the subject of Dhaka comes up or she looks at the scar on her husband’s neck.

****

Ovi arrives just as darkness fully sets in, standing on the bottom step of the patio; cautiously watching them for several minutes, hands shoved in his pockets, nervously rocking back and forth on his heels.

“You don’t have to just stand there, mate,” Tyler speaks up. “You can join us, you know.”

The younger man breathes a sigh of relief as he climbs the steps, giving Esme a small, apologetic smile which she returns with a curt one of her own before looking away. Their talk the night before had left a bitter taste in both of their mouths; she’d been harsh and brutally honest and refuses to make any apologies for it. She doesn’t understand how, despite all of the things he’s seen and heard in Dhaka and the years following it, that he can be so steadfast about diving headfirst into such a dangerous life. She’d laid out the hardest of truths she possibly could; the long-lasting effects on Tyler’s mental and physical health, the demons and the monsters that prey on every day, the trickle-down effects and impacts the entire family. Yet he remains determined. Either too stubborn to face the truth, or too just immature and ignorant.

“Millie, why don’t we go inside and get a bedtime snack,” Esme suggests, when Ovi steps up onto the patio, finishing the last of her tea and pushing her chair away from the table. “You can finish these tomorrow, okay? I think daddy’s had just about as much glitter and coloring he can take.”

“Okay,” she willingly –and surprisingly- agrees. “You’ll still tuck me in right, daddy?”

“You know it. Just come and get me when you’re ready, yeah?”

Nodding, she curls an arm around his neck and sweetly pecks his lips. Then scurries over to Ovi and wraps her arms around his, tightly squeezing.

“I can’t deal with this tonight,” Esme says, when Tyler catches her by the wrist before she can leave, a concerned and almost puzzled look on his face. “I don’t want to deal with it all. You do what you have to do. I don’t want to hear any more about it.”

He nods in understanding, and she leans down to press a soft, quick kiss to his lips before ushering Millie into the house.

“I think she’s still mad,” Ovi comments, as he drops into a chair at the end of the table.

“Really?” Tyler scoffs. “What gave you that impression?”

Standing, he begins tidying up the table, stuffing pencil crayons, glue sticks, and tubes of sparkles into small plastic storage containers. A far cry from when his hands used to inflict pain and even death on others; glitter caked under his nails and stuck to his fingers as opposed to blood and dirt. And it horrifies him how disappointed he feels over the thought; how blood seemed so much better and easy to accept than a child’s craft supplies. It’s not the first time in six months he’s missed what things were like before, and he knows it won’t be the last. That it will always be there; that side of him that had actually enjoyed the job and the payday that came with.

And it fucking disgusts him.

“I understand why she’s upset,” Ovi says.

Tyler regards him, eyebrow arched. “Do you? ‘Cause I don’t think you do.”

“She doesn’t want you getting back into this. Into that job. Into the job. Because if what happened in New Zealand.”

“Do you even understand what went on there? Why I left? Why I called it quits and came home? Because something tells me you don’t.”

“Mental health issues.”

“That’s part of it. I came home because I couldn’t fucking do it anymore. I’d had enough. Of that life and all the bullshit that came with it. Fucking death and blood and gore and everything that came with it. Helping people that don’t give a shit if I’m alive or dead at the end.”

“I gave a shit,” Ovi reminds him.

“You know how long I’d be doing the job? Almost sixteen years. That’s a fucking lifetime for guys like me.”

“Guys like us,” the younger man stresses.

“You’re not there yet. You might not even get there. You might not even get past what I have in store for you. You want to think it’s all a big game and that it’s something you ‘just want to try out’? Well you’re going to see just how fucking fun it is when I get a hold of you. So if you’re having any second thoughts, I’d back out now before it’s too late and I have you curled up in a ball of your own puke and piss.”

Ovi blinks at the harshness in his voice.

“You wonder why she’s upset? Why she’s pissed off with you? With the whole fucking world right now? Do you know how many promises I’ve made to her that I’ve broken? So many that she doesn’t even believe me when I make promises anymore. That’s fucking sad. It’s pathetic. And here I am, breaking another one.”

“You’re not exactly...”

“You know what? You don’t get to talk. You're just going to sit there and listen to what I have to say. You want to be a man and make these kinds of decisions? Then you sit there and let another man tell you the way things are. I’m not just random off the street that doesn’t know what he’s talking about. The job was my life. It’s who I was. And when I walked away, I thought I left it behind. And then you come along with this bullshit...”

“Tyler...I...”

“Just shut the fuck up and listen,” he growls. “I’m not fucking around here, Ovi. I’m not pulling any punches. It wasn’t just the job that screwed with my head. There was a lot of things that fucked me up. Things you don’t even know about. All the way back to when I was a kid. But the job? The job fucked me in more ways than you can even begin to imagine. You think it’s fun killing people? That I actually enjoyed it? I took pride in it?”

Ovi shakes his head.

“I did it for the money. That’s it. I didn’t do it to help people. I didn’t give a shit about myself, why would I give a shit about them? And then you came along, and Dhaka happened, and that was my one chance to make things right. For redemption. To prove I wasn’t a shit human being. And part of me was ready to die that day. More than ready. And another part of me wanted to stay alive because I thought maybe...just maybe...I’d met someone that could teach me how to give a shit again. That would actually give a shit about me.”

“She obviously did. And still does. Or she wouldn’t be here.”

“She stayed behind on that bridge. Knowing there was a chance that Asif would get a hold of her. Do you know what would have happened to her if he had? What he would have done to her? Way worse than he would have done to you. He would have killed you quickly. He would have waited days with her. Weeks. Until he was bored with her; tired of doing all kinds of sick and twisted shit to her.”

Ovi swallows heavily, tears welling in his eyes.

“And she still stayed. Knowing what would happen if she got caught there. Fucking Nik took off. She wasn’t even going to come back for us. Everything should have told Esme to leave me there and she didn’t. So don’t come here...to my house...and even think about disrespecting my wife.”

“I wasn’t going to. I...”

“You didn’t even give a shit about what she had to say last night. She’s trying to save your life and you didn’t even care. She doesn’t want you ending up like me, don’t you fucking get that? You think I want to be like this? Fucked in the head? Having to take medication every morning to just goddamn function like somewhat of a human being? You think I want my wife and my kids to see me like this? What the hell is wrong with you that you can’t see what the job does? It hasn’t just fucked me up, it’s fucked all of them up. My wife, my kids. Why can’t you see that?”

“I don’t expect you to get back into the job. Just to help me. And you said you would. With the training. You said...”

“You think it’s really going to stop there? That that’s going to be enough? I’m going to get dragged back into this shit. You know it, I know it. Esme knows it. And it’s fucking killing her inside. Because I told her that this time I was done for good. And now look. Look at the goddamn mess you’ve gotten me into.”

“I never meant to...”

“Never meant to what? Bring me back into it? Bullshit. It’s what you wanted right from the get-go. You never wanted to do this alone. You wanted me with you right from the start. Well now you got what you want. You’ve got me right back into this crap. Whether I want to be in it or not. You know I wouldn’t let you do it alone. You damn well knew from the start I’d never let that happen, didn’t you.”

Ovi reluctantly nods.

“Well I hope you’re prepared then. Because I’m not going to make this easy on you. You want me to drag me off to some shit hole and get me killed, I get to do things my way. And I swear to Christ, if my marriage falls apart because of this and I lose my kids....”

“You won’t. That won’t happen. She’d never leave. You know she wouldn’t.”

“I know she WOULD. Don’t tempt it. I break one more promise to her and it’s done. She’ll take off and I’ll never see my kids again. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making yours miserable because of it. Understand me?”

“I don’t understand why you’re both so worried. Why you’re both so upset. I don’t...”

“What if I don’t come back?” Tyler angrily interjects. “What if this is the one time no one is around to save me? What if it’s the one time a sniper puts a bullet in my head instead of my chest? Do you know what I leave behind? Five kids. Five little kids that deserve so much better than this. Does that even matter to you? Do they even matter to you?”

“Of course they do!” Ovi exclaims. “I love those kids! They’re my brothers and sisters! How could you even ask me that? How could you...?”

“You love them but you’re willing to take their dad away from them? It’s okay that I go in there to rescue your ass, but I get killed for it? I leave them behind; I leave Esme behind. Do you know what that would do to her? Me not coming back? Like what the fuck?” He angrily tosses the craft supplies into a storage container on the edge of the patio and slams the lid closed. “Do you not realize everything I stand to lose?”

“I do. I do realize that. You have a life. A wife and kids and...:”

“And you’re still going to do it. You’re still going to go ahead with this bullshit.”

Ovi sighs.

“We start the day after Millie’s birthday. I don’t want to hear anything more about it until then. You know you’re more than welcome to keep coming over here, just don’t talk about this again. Not in front of my wife. And especially not in front of my kids. Understand me?”

“I understand.”

“We’re finished here. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. It’s been a long fucking day and I’m done with it. With everything. I’m going into Port Douglas tomorrow to take Millie to see my dad. You can come along if you don’t mention a word of this around her.”

“Okay. I’d like that. To see him again. And I’m sorry. I really am. For all the problems. For all the bullshit. I never meant to cause issues. Especially for you and Esme. I never meant...”

“You come between us and fuck things up, I will make your life hell,” Tyler vows, as he gathers up the dirty coffee mug and steps towards the entrance to the house. “I lose my family because of all this, it won’t end well for you.”

“Tyler, I...”

“We’re done with this,” he says, and then slams the door closed behind him.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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fierytragcdy · 4 years

Text

eddie & richie.

richie knows eddie far too well for that excuse to work. if the machine really was broken, he’d be hailing every healthcare professional into that room – a charming trait that his mother had most certainly stamped upon him. one richie might have come to find a certain fondness for, even in his desperation for eddie to live and let live, to stop worrying so much about everything. “oh really? a broken machine, ‘ay? now i’m really worried. the eddie i know would be pressing that button over and over again to call a nurse in for a broken machine, maybe you’ve bumped your head?” the words are stuffed into this feigned naivety, and the more richie talks to eddie about it, the more certain he comes that maybe, just maybe, eddie kaspbrak; the boy he’d pined for from childhood did, in fact, feel the same way about him. the boy who’d told him off or told him to fuck off whenever he’d tried to make him and the other’s laugh, the boy who he’d always been too eager too impress, might have loved him back. fingers brush against his temple, leaning in as if to inspect it. “hm…looks okay to me, but then again i’ve always thought that you did need your head tested…and what a better time?” his head cants a little, a smirk filled with laughter filling up his expression as the other threatens him with the paps, "…you might make a killing, and i’d very much respect you for taking up the offer. comedian bully seems a lot less common. from my experience around others, they were definitely the ones getting bullied.” it’s said in jest, but he wasn’t immune from bullying. one of the reasons why richie had hidden his feelings for so long – one of many. now though, he’d forgotten all about that. now that eddie was looking at him the way he was, making him feel as though he mattered. for more than just how entertaining he could be.

maybe it got exhausting after a while, even if he enjoyed every minute of it. sometimes richie just needed to breathe. to be. once eddie’s given the go-ahead, he rests his other leg over eddie’s own. it happens naturally. it certainly can’t be helped. not once eddie’s is hooked on his own. once all of his body is on the bed, he turns to face eddie too; careful with it, not wanting to knock into him all too much. when he rests his nose against his shoulder, his own heart picks up pace. richie thanks his lucky stars that he isn’t connected to a heart rate monitor, because he’d have been exposed now too. “there. we’ve always been able to make the best of a tight space.” he reminds him, though he’s not sure why he does. because now he’s thinking about it. about the time he’d been on the hammock and eddie had forced his way upon it too; all petty squabbles and feet in his face. richie had acted so irritated then, but he’d never felt safer snuggled up with eddie. never felt warmer, softer, fonder. eddie bought it all out of him. he remembers the countless other times they shared tents and beds and dens, always inevitably ending up cornered together, always inevitably acting irritated by it, always bringing it upon themselves. richie’s bought out of his daydream by the sound of the apology, “you better be…” is what he starts with, trailing off before he wiggles to make himself all the more comfortable. “…you don’t have any reason to say sorry, eds.”

the kiss to his shoulder surprises richie; in a way he can’t disguise or make a joke of. he doesn’t want to, because maybe if it does it won’t happen again and he so desperately wanted it to. for it to be more than a fleeting moment, or an action bought on by some fog that eddie was potentially still in, due to the fact he’d only just woken up after a very traumatic incident. tender still; his fingers stroke across his healing cheek, a blush tinging his own skin as the question leaves eddie’s lips. there’s no disguising how he feels at this point, even if it remains unspoken. “it might be.” richie admits quietly, croakily due to his stunned surprise over eddie’s former action clogging up all the words in his throat. “i didn’t bring the entire contents of my wardrobe with me, i had to get creative…” it’s a weak attempt at an explanation, but he can’t say he wants to try particularly hard to disguise his feelings anymore. he had come the closest to losing eddie he ever wanted to and he didn’t want him to disappear from his life again, never again. “…and it smells nice.” he carries on, which does very little to help any case against him wearing the garment because of any other reason besides the fact that it was eddie’s. and richie wanted to be as close to him as possible, even when he was lying right there in front of him. “suits me better anyway.” he carries on, but even when the words fall; they’re softer, the smile on his lips impossibly fond. “and yeah, i missed you. i missed you when i’d forgotten who you were, if that even makes any fucking sense.” he chuckles softly, though for once it’s void of much humour. without another word he presses a kiss to his temple, lingering there for a second more than entirely necessary.

how he had thought richie would let that pass was beyond him. he knew richie like the back of his hand and it was inevitable that he would call him out on his excuse. “maybe it isn’t a broken machine,” he mutters, colour flooding to his face. richie tozier was an asshole of epic proportions for doing this to him. and yet, he was still fond as ever of the man beside him. disgusting, right? “i don’t know. maybe i did. you tell me. i blacked out, remember?” he sort of regrets mentioning it because he knows that it must be a sore spot for all of them, but especially richie. he remembers the terror he felt when he saw richie caught in the deadlights. the relief he felt as he leaned over him and saw that he was okay. then, nothing. well, not nothing. he was still conscious for a while, but it was hazy and he thinks that is probably a good thing. he can only imagine what his friends looked like in that moment, what they looked like as they fretted over him and how to defeat it. his skin tingles as richie touches it and eddie looks up at him, eyes wide and far too innocent looking for the things he’s seen and done (most of which all before the age of fourteen). “like i told you when we were kids, my mother had me tested. for everything. if it was a disease, she had me tested for it.” it was easier to mention it now, laugh it off. as a kid, he had told richie during a sleepover when the others were passed out. they were alone and eddie confided in him because it was richie. it was sweet, stupid, funny richie and eddie never felt safer than when he had richie by his side. “could you imagine if i did? it wouldn’t even be worth it. not to ruin your rep. besides, how can i go on record and call you a bully when you used to throw yourself in the line of fire for me?” he hadn’t remembered that before they went into the house, had he? had it just come back now? who knew? but eddie remembered and his heart swelled at the memories.

being tangled up on the bed with richie was a dream come true. and truthfully, it was one that had come true a number of times when they were a kid. in the hammock (more than once), in tents, on floors, in beds (never eddie’s because what would his mother have thought if she walked in on that?). “yeah, we have. and i don’t know how, cause you were always taller than me. too long legs and your arms, too. but we always made it work, huh?” his eyes light up at the memories. they had come flooding back when they were in the clubhouse after ben had fallen in. eddie had been glad to not have been hooked up to anything then, the memory alone almost killed him. “remember the hammock? god, you were so rude about that, all the time. you’d never get out when it was my turn. i had to climb in with you.” he never once had to, but it was more comfortable and it felt safer to be in it with richie. there was something about close to him and pressed against him that eddie had never had replicated. it was just something that richie did to him, it seemed. eddie used to scowl at the others when they pushed the two of them together, but he knew now that they knew more than they let on. they knew more than eddie and richie did themselves. they did it for their own good, but life had a funny way of working out and they never got the chance to find out if they felt the same way about each other. “maybe. but... i am. i can’t even begin to imagine how scary that was. to... to not know if i was gonna live. i had a brief moment of that when you were caught in the deadlights, but you were okay. i...” he trails off and then looks up, a little more confident in himself. “i saved you. and then you saved me, rich.”

eddie could see that the kiss had thrown richie off and that was probably a good thing. he was off his game and eddie could probably beat him at his own game. god, he did look good when he was flustered, though. perhaps that meant more than eddie was willing to explore right now. “oh, that’s right. you only brought a bag that had, what? a pair of underwear and a spare shirt?” he teases, eyes fond as he watches richie. he knows there was no real reason for richie to take one of his hoodies. he would definitely be better suited to have one of mike’s or ben’s. there was another reason why he took eddie’s and he was almost determined to find out why. and, oh, he wasn’t expecting that. “’cause it smells like me?” he asks carefully, unsure if he wants to know the answer. there’s always the chance that richie will make light of it and ruin the mood. again. “well, it’s not like i could wear it again now, asshole. you stretched it out with your broad as fuck shoulders.” oh, so maybe eddie would be the one to ruin the mood. figures. he goes to respond to what richie says but then, well, richie decides to press his fucking lips against his temple. what a dick move. he knows exactly how richie felt earlier now and his heart is racing. the monitor is going crazy and honestly? eddie feels like he’s died and gone to heaven with the way it feels to have richie’s lips against his skin.

he’s pulled from the daze by a nurse in the doorway, arms over her shoulders. “mr. kaspbrak. i wish, for my own sanity, i could take the monitor off you. i can see your room from the nurses station, so i haven’t come in until now.” she gives them a knowing look and eddie’s cheeks flood with colour. if the ground could open up and swallow him whole, that would be preferable. “mr. tozier. if you could be careful up there. he’s due for a change in dressing in an hour, at which time you will need to get off the bed so that we can make sure he’s comfortable.” she looks like she wants to say something more, but she doesn’t. and eddie is very, very thankful for that. “i’m sorry. he’s an idiot and i can’t stop him from doing anything.” she rolls her eyes and smiles, before turning to walk away. eddie smacks the back of his hand against richie’s chest. “that was so embarrassing, rich!” eddie is kind of living off the feeling, though. and he sort of wants to kiss richie now, because the nurse all but confirmed it was richie making his heart go crazy. but she can see them, like she had said. he has to settle for leaning up and simultaneously pulling richie down so that he can press a longing kiss to his cheek.

#fervour #interactions: eddie kaspbrak.#featuring: eddie & richie.

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weilongfu · 4 years

Text

Kiss and Make Up

DBK/KMA/Kiss the Series, PeteKao Inspired by Kiss and Make Up by Dua Lipa feat. Blackpink This is dedicated to @ctl-yuejie. Merry Christmas!

Summary: Pete and Kao have a history of fights, even after they started dating. Non didn’t make things any easier. But with the truth of Non’s deception out in the open, things have finally begun to resolve themselves. And yet… It’s still been weeks since Pete’s seen a trace of Kao. Kissing and making up was what June had suggested before. He suggests it again, but this time, Pete sees the merit in the suggestion.

We haven't talked all morning Bang my head, bang my head against the wall I'm scared, I'm falling Losing all, losing all my control And I'm tired of talking Feel myself saying the same old things But this love's important Don't wanna lose, don't wanna lose you this way I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I Feel like we about to break up I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I Just wanna kiss and make up one last time

Post Dark Blue Kiss Ep 11, but you know, with my own twist as per usual. Because fuck canon.

This fic went through so many iterations in the past year I’ve had it in my WIP folder. Thankfully DBK gave me a reason to finish it and I hope you all enjoy.

-------

Pete’s FB Live was still the most talked about thing on campus. Non had deactivated his Instagram after the wave of negative comments he received in response. About Aboyz also distanced themselves from Non. Non’s father stepped down from the director position at the high school.

Slowly, but surely, Kao’s name was cleared bit by bit. Even the cover of Kao’s tutoring notes was suddenly a common sight again in hallways and cafes.

But Kao himself had disappeared.

No texts or messages were read. No matter which hallways Pete, Sandee, Thada, or June scoured, their friend was not to be found. It was as if confirming his innocence had set Kao free from this mortal plane and he was off to better things.

“So what do we do now?” Sandee asked as she slumped against Thada’s shoulder. Thada wiggled his eyebrows at June and Pete, only to suffer an elbow to his ribs for his troubles. “If Ai Kao doesn’t want to be found, you know we won’t find him.”

“Ai Pete, why didn’t you speak out sooner!” Pete shot June a glare, but June had long since gained immunity to anything that didn’t involve physical violence. “If you had that kind of evidence, why didn’t you release it immediately! Instead you let Kao get dragged so far down, he must have buried himself already!”

“Ai June.”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

June instead stood up and kept wagging his finger in Pete’s face while Pete grumbled and growled. Thada was sure that one day Pete would bite the finger June was so fond of using. At least if Kao was here, he’d hold him back from biting the entire finger off.

“Ai Pete really is feral if Ai Kao’s not around, huh?” Thada asked.

Sandee rolled her eyes and finally shoved June and Pete apart. “Enough. Ai June, it’s good enough that Ai Pete said something to clear Ai Kao’s name. What were you doing the entire time?”

“Me? I spent every day declaring Ai Kao’s innocence!” June thumped his chest. “Any time I found a person looking at that story I declared it slander! You can ask every student here in Engineering! I was a good friend!”

“You’re a shit person!” Pete shot back.

June rounded back on Pete. “If you had just listened to me and kissed Ai Kao and made up in the bedroom, we wouldn’t have had all these problems.”

“And if you hadn’t tried to be so buddy buddy with that fucker, Non, would he have continued to go after Ai Kao?!”

At last, June quieted down. “How was I supposed to know such a sweet looking junior had venom like a viper?”

“You should have known because I said so!”

“Ai Pete, you’re not exactly known for your judge of character,” said Thada. “But enough squabbling. Who wants to go to Ai Kao’s house to check if he’s there?”

“Where else could he be?” June asked.

“P’Sun’s cafe?” Sandee suggested.

“I’ll check his house. You guys go check the cafe and anywhere else you think he might be.” Without saying goodbye, Pete got up and left.

“He’s really confident Ai Kao is at home, huh?”

“Ai June?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

------

It hadn’t been so long since Pete had seen the gates to Kao’s home, and yet the familiar sight gave him a sense of nostalgia. Had it really only been a short while ago that they teased each other openly here. Only a few weeks since Pete had begged Kao to let him stay the night to avoid practicing for one of his speeches. A few weeks since Pete found Non walking about so casually, claiming to be Kao’s boyfriend.

Pete rested a hand against the bars before leaning his forehead against them. A few lights were on in the house, but whether they were because of Kao or his mother, Pete couldn’t say.

“Ai Pete?” Kao’s voice suddenly appeared from behind. Pete whipped around to face him. Kao was dressed as casually as usual, a convenience store bag dangling from his fingers. “What are… Why are…”

“Where have you been? The gang’s been worried sick about you,” Pete blurted out. “You think you can skip class just because your name has been cleared?”

“I didn’t-”

“If you had listened to me about Non-”

“Okay! I get it! Non is-”

“-this would have never escalated this far and-”

“He’s still just a kid!”

“A kid who plotted every step of the way to break us up and stick himself in the middle!”

At last Kao just sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump. “Did you come all this way just to yell at me?” Kao’s gaze also dropped. “I know I was wrong about Non. But I also didn’t do anything wrong. I kept turning him down, you know that.” Kao walked past Pete and pushed the gate open. “If you’ve said all you have to say, then you should go.” Kao moved to close the gate, but Pete slipped in.

“I’m not done yet.”

“If all you’re going to do is lecture me, then do it another day.”

Kao finally looked up and Pete could see that although his name had been cleared, dark circles were still under Kao’s eyes. His complexion was paler than ever. Pete reached out to trace the ridge of Kao’s cheekbones, feel the circles under his eyes, as if he could wipe them away. Kao flinched back.

“I’m… I’m not going to lecture you any further,” Pete said quietly. “Please let me come in.”

Kao only turned around and continued walking to his house. The front door was left open. Pete took it for the invitation it was. By the sound of Kao’s footsteps, he had retreated to his room. Pete followed. There, the curtains were drawn closed. No lights were on. It was a stark contrast to the usual bright and cheery atmosphere Kao preferred.

Kao sat at his desk and turned his tired gaze on Pete. “So what else did you want to say?”

Pete took in all of the sticky notes and pictures of them together surrounding Kao, shrouded in the shadows of the room. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “You lied to me. And it hurt. But that doesn’t mean that I should have hurt you in return.” Pete opened his eyes. “I should have tried to listen to you when you were making amends. I’m sorry.” Pete stepped closer. Kao didn’t move. “I’m sorry.” Pete cupped Kao’s face and Kao didn’t stop him. At last Pete’s thumbs rubbed the circles under Kao’s eyes and Kao allowed it. Pete touched his forehead to Kao’s. “I still want that future with you. I still want to be a boyfriend you can depend on.” Pete brought his lips closer. “Please say I can still be that boyfriend.”

“Pete,” Kao said after an unstead inhale. “You can’t just-”

“I’m going to do better, be better. For me and you.” The warmth of Pete’s breath on his lips made Kao feel dizzy. Pete kept talking all the same. “I won’t ask for us to be what we were. I want us to be something better. So say yes, and keep doing your best. And I’ll do mine.”

“Pete…” Kao tilted his head just the slightest bit and Pete took it as his signal.

After so long, depriving himself of Kao’s lips, soft and sweet in memory and reality, Pete felt some thrashing and angry part of himself come to peace. Kao whimpered, his hands formed fists in Pete’s shirt. Pete didn’t smile, but instead pulled Kao closer, wanting to sear the imprint of Kao’s body on his bones.

“I love you, Kao. I don’t think I’ll ever stop, no matter how mad we get at each other,” Pete said as they broke apart. “And as long as you love me too, I think we can make it work.”

Kao didn’t reply, but instead curled himself under Pete’s chin. It was answer enough.

#petekao #dark blue kiss #dbk #kma #kiss me again #kiss the series

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writersrealmbts · 5 years

Text

Pack Trials: Jackson

Description: As the trials continue, you can sense a change in the air. But when you’re forced to choose, will you be happy with the choice you make?

Warnings: Can’t remember

While there is quite a bit with BTS, this is for Got7.

Introduction Here!

Posted: 06/14/2019

Tags: Hybrid AU, Hybrid!BTS, Hybrid!Reader, ReadersChoice, Hybrid!Got7, Hybrid Everybody and their Mother, ReaderxJackson

Angst/fluff: 5,934 words

A/N: It’s a little befuddled but I hope you like it! I felt like I needed to work him in more before he was chosen so I hope this is okay! Also, I know Jimin was supposed to be next but I hit a road block and have to fix that (by deleting words, a truly painful process). Anyway! Enjoy!

“This is a setup!” Someone from the Stem pack screeched from the safety of their pack.

“The Scout Pack should be eliminated from the trials!” “Why should they have the advantage over all the other groups?” You stayed behind the safety that the Jay and Scout packs were providing you, alarmed. You’d been steadily disqualifying suitors in your own way, spending meals with the suitors from the different packs to get to know them better. Really trying to keep an open mind, and judge fairly. But with the way they were acting, you knew that if you chose someone from the Scout pack a war would break out. Feuding packs was the last thing anyone wanted. “Eliminating them from this is hardly fair,” JY tried to reason, and you could tell he wished he had your father to broker the peace as he had always done. Because no one was listening to him. Which meant you had to acknowledge what that sinking feeling in your stomach was. You grabbed Jackson’s sleeve to get his attention, waiting until he bent so you could speak in his ear. He looked at you with wide eyes, confirming that you were serious. You nodded, looking away. He stepped forward, past JY, effectively gaining everyone’s attention. “Our lady, y/n, has decided she will pare down the suitors to two from each pack and decide on her mate by tomorrow evening. She asks that you respect this decision and go back to your own camps to allow her space and quiet to think over this important decision.” There were grumblings and murmurings, but they started backing away. Jackson looked at you to confirm that he conveyed the right message. “Thanks,” You said, grateful that people always respected messengers. They were the ones that had a sort of immunity when it came to traveling through other’s territory. If they broke the laws of the packs, then they’d be tried, but just crossing through the territory was always allowed and their words carried weight because they did travel so far to convey their messages. Namjoon and JY approached you, but you held up your hand to prevent them from speaking.

“Any further delay in this process will only bring more tension and squabbling. My father worked his whole life to keep the peace between the packs, he would be devastated if it fell apart because of me. I’m aware of the import of my decision…I have to choose with both my head and my heart. And I apologize, Namjoon, but if I choose Scout pack…no one can afford a war right now. I’m afraid the two I include from your pack will be a formality.” You dropped your gaze to the ground. “I understand. I hope whatever your decision is will be the one that leads to the most happiness for you. I’ll send Taehyung over with some dinner for you?” You nodded. He stepped closer and rested a hand on your shoulder. “I really do hope you find happiness.” You pressed your cheek to his hand momentarily. “And the same for you and the other boys. Arrows sharp and aim true.” “Fair skies and clear path,” He responded quietly, then walked toward his own pack. JY was still waiting. “Y/n?” You looked up. He looked worried. “Do you really feel you know anyone well enough to decide?” “I don’t have the luxury of time to get to know them more. This is just something I have to do. Thank you for assisting me and looking out for me all this time, but now more than ever, this is a decision I have to make on my own.” You dipped your head to him and walked past him and the subpack that had stuck around, into your tent where you collapsed on your bed with a squeak of frustration and anxiety. You were out of your mind. Absolutely bonkers.Cutting it down to two from each pack? You could have said four just as easily! You could have given yourself three days instead of one and a half. There was nothing left to do but make your choices. Two from each pack. “Y/n? I brought your dinner.” Taehyung’s deep voice resonated through your tent. You got up and straightened yourself a bit and opened the tent flap. “Thank you.” He entered with the tray of food. “Are you out of your mind?!” He hissed the moment the tray was on your table. You sighed. “Tae, please…you think this is easy for me? If I don’t choose, war will break out among the packs. If I choose your pack, then it will be targeted. My father worked so hard for peace between the packs, but the balance is delicate. If he was still around, then maybe I would have more of a choice.” “They don’t deserve you,” He muttered, hugging you. “At least…pick someone from Jay Pack. At least they’d take care of you. Please. And we’d still see you now and then.” You sighed softly, relishing the warmth and comfort of his embrace. “I…I was thinking of picking someone from JB’s subpack.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “They’re good men. They will take good care of you. Keep you safe.” You breathed out shakily. “I’m scared.” “It’s okay, y/n. It’ll all be okay. Do you want help? Or do you want me to leave you alone to work on it?” He brushed your hair from your face. “Alone. I need to go through the letters from some of the remaining candidates. I can get rid of some that I just haven’t felt a connection to. I’ll make sure to enjoy the food. Tell Jin and Yoongi that I appreciate the food.” He sighed and exited the tent. You finished the food, pacing your tent as you read. Finally, you peeked out to see if the coast was clear. It wasn’t. “Jackson, a word?” You called, getting an idea and running with it. He looked at you, surprised, but quickly excused himself from his group and came to you. “My lady?” “Do me a favor?” You asked, doing your best to keep your expression neutral since it had garnered attention from others. “Anything, my lady, within pack law.” “Help me sneak away from camp so I can think clearly?” He grinned and bowed slightly. “It would be my pleasure. Give me a paper or something and I’ll pretend I’m delivering it, give it a few minutes, then head toward the bathrooms. I’ll clear them out after you’ve hidden in one of the stalls and then you can escape out the window and we’ll head out into the forest. I’ll have to guard you and keep you safe…” “That’s perfectly all right,” You replied as you handed him an blank paper, folded in two. “Thank you.” His plan worked beautifully, and soon you were wading mid-shin in one of the streams, surrounded by birdsong and psithurism instead of conversations and clanging. He respected the tranquility of the place, keeping an eye on the surroundings as you attempted to unwind and clear your head. He also had a parchment he was sketching on now and then. You went over the list of remaining suitors, sighing softly and sitting on the stream bank. “Trouble, miss?” “Is there ever not?” You asked, with a single huff of laughter. “This meeting was supposed to be…good. Strengthen the packs, solidify the peace, and support the trade between packs. Instead it feels as if I’m tearing them apart. Before the trials really started I was so confident that I could use the trials to actually find someone that cared about me. To find someone that I could actually care about, and love. It was foolish of me. All I’ve done is stir up malice and discontent and completely twisted myself around so that I don’t know which way is up.” He sat down beside you, but kept his feet from the water. “Are you scared?” You nodded. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, waiting until you shifted and rested your head on his shoulder. “Y/n, you can’t control how the packs will react to anything. Jay and Scout pack will have your back no matter what your decision, but that isn’t necessarily true for the other packs, even if we wish it were true. You need to do what’s best for yourself and stop worrying about everyone else. You have to pare this down to two people from each pack, right?” He gestured to the list. You nodded. “And I can’t risk the Scout pack by choosing one of them. They already know as much.” “Alright, so, who’s left from Stem pack? Because I’ve interacted with them and I can tell you more about them.” You pulled away so that the two of you could discuss the Stem and Jellyfish packs. With his insight into their characters and how they actually feel about the competition, you managed to pare down to two from the other packs. Then you just had to pick the two representatives from Scout pack and decide on those from Jay pack. A decision that would best be made on your own. Jackson escorted you back to your tent. “Can you tell me why security around me has increased?” You asked. “Toward the beginning I was able to go about as I please, now it feels like….” He frowned. “Too many murmurs of threats.” “I see. Thank you, Jackson. For your help.” He bowed slightly. “A pleasure, y/n.” You went into your tent to determine who would still be there to vie for your hand. Scouts it was easy. You picked Namjoon so that his pack could respect him more for making it as far as he did, and Jimin who had passed every trial since the beginning. Jay pack was a little more complicated. Jackson was an obvious choice, but the other…they were all good men. Honorable. But the next best connection you felt was with Youngjae, so that was who you put down. You went out as evening fell, striding toward the arena, and hearing the whispers from everyone as they realized that you had already pared it down. It took about fifteen minutes for all the packs and suitors to gather in the arena, while you stood on the platform, calm and ready to deliver your decision. “From Stem Pack, Mark and Lay.” Some cheers for the packmates that made it through filled the air. “From Jay Pack, Jackson and Youngjae.” More cheers from a different section and astonished looks from both of their faces. “From Jellyfish Pack, Leo and N.” Whoops of encouragement. “And from Scout Pack, Namjoon and Jimin.” Quiet cheers since their pack was smaller, but still louder than Jellyfish. You stood there as the eight remaining suitors lined up. JY cleared his throat. “Do you have the next trial in mind?” “Probably would have been a good idea,” You whispered. “Tracking?” “Did that already.” “Oh yeah. Um…” You noticed things quieting down, and your mind started racing. “The next trial will be told to the suitors in the privacy,” You glanced at JY and saw him nod, “Of the command tent.” “What?!” Stem leader yelled. “Did I stutter?” You asked, fixing your gaze on him. It was quiet for a few more moments, both of you challenging the other. You could see that he hadn’t been challenged before, and certainly not by a woman, so you relaxed, confident against him. All around you it felt like everyone was holding their breath, waiting to see who would break first. “You challenge me?” He growled. “No, you challenged me,” You replied, folding your hands together as you waited for him to back down. “So let me make something very clear. You agreed when you arrived to the terms that I lay out for the trials. In those terms were conditions that allow me to make judgments as I see fit. Now, do you really have a problem with me speaking alone to my suitors? Because if so, I will happily remove your pack from the equation so that you have no fear of any misconduct.” His eyes widened in disbelief. You stepped closer, smiling softly. “So, shall I remove them from the trials? Or shall I continue as I see fit?” He was shaking, probably in anger and disbelief, but he stepped out of the way. You strode past him, trying to think of what the heck you would do for the next trial. JY caught up to you. “Are you sure?” “Don’t know what the trial will be, but yes. I’m sure of isolating them. You won’t be allowed to follow.” “As you wish.” He stopped following. You headed straight into the tent, taking the few minutes you had to pace and try to figure out the next trial. “Told you, she’s making it up as she goes,” Jimin chuckled. You chucked a pillow at his head. “Shut up. Do you think this is easy?” “Sorry, no.” He caught the pillow and held onto it. “But that was pretty bold, challenging a leader.” “He challenged me first.” You sat down as you directed a glare in Jimin’s direction. He grinned and bowed. Namjoon elbowed Jimin, then gestured to ask if he could sit as well. You gestured for them all to take a seat. “Sorry, I’m just…fresh out of idea and if you speak a word of this outside, I’ll gut you.” Mark cracked a smile. “Challenging our pack leader and telling us to withhold information from him?” “Oh please, I know how the sub-packs work. Important things conveyed, unimportant things left out. And each sub-pack has their own little code that they live by with a different set of rules, most of which are similar to the rest of the packs, but some of which differ depending on who the leader of said sub-pack is. Your loyalty is stronger to your sub-pack leader.” You rolled your eyes. “I’ll think of a trial, just give me a couple minutes.” Leo regarded you thoughtfully as he sat. “My lady—” “I do have a name,” You interrupted, wincing. “Sorry, y/n, but what if you didn’t actually put another trial. Don’t tell the rest of them, and just do the last few meals before you said you’d make your decision with the eight of us. We can probably all pretend that there’s actually a trial that we’re conducting. You could send us on errands or something, to get things from the forests and fields that you can’t since you’re being watched so closely.” You tilted your head as you contemplated. “Or we could say the trial was to carry you back and forth as many times as possible and that you were self-conscious about it, which was why you used the tent. Then tell them that the rest of the trials are little things. Acting like we’re actually a couple for a determined interval of time tomorrow. We would be providing for you, and you would be providing for us,” Youngjae said it like it was a side thought, paying more attention to the wooden car the he had sat on. “And you can say you eliminated me since you only included us for formality,” Jimin added, his gaze a little sad. You looked at the ground. “What?” N asked, sounding surprised and confused. You looked at the members from Jellyfish and Stem packs. “Tensions are high. If I were to choose anyone from the Scouts, war would break out. Even Stem pack can’t afford a battle. My father fought for peace amongst the packs, I will not be the reason the peace is broken. They are included in this because it is not fair that they should be eliminated just because of my prior familiarity with them, but I cannot choose them. There are truly only six of you left for me to choose from.” “And any of us would be honored and happy to be with you, y/n,” Lay told you, dipping his head. You smiled at him. “But if we are going with that story, you better eliminate me as well,” Youngjae said. “I can’t carry anyone that far.” “I don’t really know that that matters. We’ll just say Jimin dropped me.” “Hey!” “Leave it, Jimin,” Namjoon ordered. Jackson was watching you, quiet and thoughtful. “Is that what you want to do, y/n?” You took a deep breath. “Do you all agree with Youngjae’s idea?” They all nodded. You nodded as well. “Alright, then tomorrow, we’ll spend the day acting as couples. An hour and a half at a time?” They nodded again. “Um, I guess starting at seven? Do you want to figure out timing amongst yourselves?” You asked, hoping dearly that they did. “We’ll figure it out. Why don’t you and Jimin head out and we’ll discuss it?” Namjoon smiled at you. You nodded and got up, taking Jimin’s playfully offered arm “You’re almost free,” He said softly. You hummed. “Of the trials, yes.” “Nervous?” “Try terrified,” You whispered. “If things get bad after you pick, you will always have a safe place with us in Scout Pack. But…are you really considering going to Stem Pack? Their leader will never let you forget that you challenged him.” He sounded worried. “I have to play the game, Jimin.” He didn’t reply, and the two of you walked silently to your tent. Then he bowed to you. “Y/n.” “Jimin-ssi,” You whispered in reply. He smiled at you, then headed back toward his pack’s encampment. “Y/n!” You paused, irritation rising up as you saw the leaders heading toward you and the clearly irritated look on JY’s face. Then you turned and entered your tent. There was no way you were dealing with them again today. “Y/n!” Stem leader hollered from outside the tent. You sat with your quilt, humming softly to yourself as he continued to create a scene outside of your tent. It went on for an hour, truly annoying, but finally he hollered that he wouldn’t be ignored and that he would talk with you in the morning “or else”. You decided you weren’t leaving your tent without a weapon. You woke up half an hour before the first suitor would be joining you, dressing slightly less formally since you fully intended to go out into the woods with one of them. Gather some herbs. You went out to cook breakfast for yourself and whoever the first suitor of the morning was, and noticed everyone heading toward the arena. Heuning-Kai from Scout Pack came running up. “Stem pack is demanding an audience.” You narrowed your eyes at the arena. “Thank you, hurry back, but not a word to anyone other than Yoongi that I received the information.” “Yes, my lady,” He turned and ran back. You went back into your tent, contemplating the best coarse of action. Did you dress as regally as possible, or as a warrior? Or neither, your mind supplied as you spotted a dress in your trunk. It was one of your mother’s. One she wore during summers by the lake when you were very little. You had done some work on it, making it fit you as well as the changes in fashion. It was light and pretty. You changed into that dress, did your hair half up, half down, with many flowers tucked in. You wore the fine silver chain necklace with the pearl pendant. Then you strapped on a belt after attaching the sheath of your prettiest knife. Pretty enough to look like part of the outfit, but just as deadly as any other knife. The camps were all abandoned for the arena. You entered unnoticed at first, but then it was like a wave of quiet that followed a surprised murmur. Stem Leader turned to you, looking a little thrown off. “Is there a problem?” You asked your suitors, smiling softly. “I was expecting one of you at my tent this morning when I noticed that everyone was gone. I was going to cook breakfast.” Youngjae bowed. “Apologies, my lady, we were…detained.” You turned to the leaders. “So I see. What, pray tell, is the problem?” “This has gone on long enough, pick a mate! We don’t have all summer!” Stem snapped. “There are preparations to be made for fall and winter! Are you trying to cause the packs to suffer?!” “It is not my fault if you left your land unattended for the duration of the trials,” You replied. “It is not my business, either, not unless I choose to join your pack.” “Then choose already!” “What are you waiting for! A cacophony of voices arose, some with words directed at you, others defending you. It got worse and worse by the minute, and you looked around with forced calm to assess the situation. Damn it. It was too close to getting violent. You looked at the suitors, noting the worried looks on their faces. Namjoon was looking toward his pack. Leo and N were glancing toward the loudest areas where fights were likely breaking out. Lay and Mark looked like they might be sick. Youngjae was watching the leaders as they fought. It took you a second to realize that Jackson had moved between you and the leaders. You looked around, having decided. Then you screamed a blood-curdling scream because there was no other way to get their attention. Silence decended as you stood there with your arms folded. “If you are all done acting like animals,” You snapped out. There were murmurs. “I choose Jackson Wang, of Jay Pack, if he will have me.” He looked at you in astonishment, then bowed. “I would be honored.” You nodded. “Then the trials are complete.” You turned and bowed to JY. “My leader.” He held a fist of his heart and dipped his head. Jackson offered you his arm and quickly guided you out while everyone was still astonished. “Are you certain?” “Yes,” You whispered. “Are you?” He smiled down at you, then looked away. “Yes. But, let’s wait until we’re back in Jay Pack territory. Back to my…our…home. For the mating ceremony, I mean.” “I figured that was what you were referring to, and I couldn’t agree more. I want to get as far away from Stem Pack as possible. Besides, I also have to greet your sub-pack leader as one of my leaders as well.” You rested your head against his arm. “Of course. They’ll be by to help you pack up your camp. I imagine the packs will disperse quickly. I’ll protect you.” You kissed his cheek, then settled back with your head on his shoulder. “You look beautiful in that dress, by the way,” He said, smiling even more. “It suits you. You look happier in it, more carefree. The way you should be.” You sighed. “I feel more carefree. Wait here while I change into travel clothes?” He nodded. You ducked into your tent, changing into clothes you could run in or sit in a car in. Whichever it ended up being. You held open your tent for him to enter once you were done changing. “I just need to pack my clothing and bedding really.” He nodded and helped you pack away your things into the trunks. “Jackson?” You moved to tie open your tent. Jaebum dipped his head to you, smiling. “Hello.” You curtsied to him respectfully. “We’re happy to have you in our pack, y/n,” He said warmly. “Happy to be part of it.” “JY wants us to leave as soon as we can, so I brought some help for moving your things.” He gestured to the rest of his sub-pack, as well as the other sub-pack, the Strays. You nodded and moved out of their way. “Thank you.” Taehyung darted over while they were taking down your tent and hugged you after getting permission from Jackson. “Take care, y/n. You’ll be happy with them, I know it.” “I hope you find your own happiness,” You whispred in reply. “Arrows sharp and aim true.” “Straight paths and silent steps,” He replied softly, then kissed your forehead before stepping back so that Hoseok could hug you, and Jimin, and Jin. Namjoon squeezed your shoulder and Yoongi kissed your hand. Jungkook awkwardly tapped your arm with his fist. Jackson came over as they walked away. “Time to go.” He held out your travel bag. You took it and happily took his hand as well, letting him guide you to their vehicle. The ride was mixed with both singing and quiet, goofy conversations and naps. Jackson kept in constant contact with you. Holding your hand, or wrapping his arm around your shoulders. Checking on you and making sure you were okay. It felt familiar and comfortable. Their sub-pack, your pack, split off from the other group at one point. JY talked to Jaebum for a while before parting. “Jackson, he wants to prioritize the maps. Including the new territory. You’ll have to make a trip to the Scouts when the map is done to finalize the split of Arrow territory.” Jackson nodded when Jaebum looked back, then shifted to look at you. “You want to travel with me, or stay based with the guys?” “Travel with you,” You answered easily, blinking up at him. “Trails can be tough, and I have to continue even in the rain and cold.” “Nothing I’m not used to,” You replied. “That’s what coats are for.” “Living in a small tent, only enough room for us and our packs, during the summers.” “Not during fall and spring?” He smiled. “There’s a little overlap, but during the colder seasons…well…” He frowned. “We’re going to be the main users of the new territory. JY wants us to establish ourselves there,” Jaebum explained quietly. “That’s why we need to settle the territory split once the maps are ready. We’ll probably build off of any buildings already there. There will be other parties for hunting and defense, but we’re in charge of the land and it’s use. Just like we did with the falls.” You tilted your head. “Am I supposed to be assisting with the split of the territory?” “You’re in charge of it,” Mark said. “He just forgot to mention that.” “Sorry. Yes, you determine the split.” You nodded, then went into your bag, pulling out the maps you had of the territory, looking over it to determine the most practical and diplomatic method of splitting it keeping in mind the size of the land and the packs. Jack shifted so he could look at them as well, eyes widening. “Whoa…” “What?” “It’s so detailed! There’s a gorge there?” You nodded. “It’s a very important gorge, because over here, this area that’s hard to get to is where we do all the work with the maple sugar and candies, and where we tap all the trees. There’s a cabin there. Outpost buildings here, here, here, and here,” You pointed to the map. “Hideaways there, and there. Guard posts there and there. Hunting perches there, there, and there. Over here is where the best healing herbs grow, over there is where the best blueberries grow, and this is the only place where we had semi-permanent residents.” The three men were staring at you, completely surprised at how well you knew your territory. “You don’t know your territory this well?” “I do, but, in a general sense, as in I can find my way anywhere from any point in our territory. Not in a mappy sense.” Jackson took the map, looking it over. “Which is kind of bad when you think about it because I actually make the maps. Well, I’m supposed to now that our senior mapmaker has died.” “Okay, where are we heading right now?” “To a temporary house near the edges of our territories.” “The Scouts we’ll need to wait a while before going to the scouts, so why don’t you and I travel to the place by foot and I can help you map out the land?” You suggested. Jackson looked to Jaebum. “Jinyoung! Stop the car?” “Okay,” He called back, bringing the vehicle to a stop. Jackson smiled and helped you out of the vehicles, making sure to have his own pack, as well as yours before waving the vehicle off. “Where do you want to start?” “Take me to the edge of Arrow territory and we’ll work from there,” You told him, taking the offered hand after putting on your own pack. The two of you made your way leisurely through the territory that day, you making marks in a small notebook now and then, running back and forth over similar stretches of land, talking and goofing off. He caught a rabbit for dinner, and you prepared a salad to go along with it from the flora around you. Seasoned it with some wild onion you found and the salt you kept in your pack. He set up the tent while you cooked, arranging the bedding carefully while you watched from the corner of your eye. He was singing, probably without thinking, and making sure there were no rocks or lumps. Gathering pine needles to cushion the two of you under the cover of the tent. Pulling an extra blanket out after a glance at you and a moment of thought. Then he came over with a grin. “Tent is set up.” “Thank you, love,” You answered with a smile. His grin got even bigger, and he sat beside you, which was perfect. You turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “Such a good provider,” You whispered. “Such a good protector.” He leaned forward and kissed you, lingering as his arms wrapped around you. You smiled at him after the kiss ended. “Food should be ready soon.” He nodded and kissed you again for a moment before tucking your head into the crook of his neck. “Thank you.” You breathed in his scent. You couldn’t tell if he was an alpha or a beta, but you were guessing a strong beta. He could easily stand up to an alpha, with mental and emotional clarity that could be dangerous to an alpha, but he also wouldn’t have a problem not being in charge. You liked that balance. “Smells good, honey,” He finally commented after a moment. You breathed in deeply, pulling away to tend to the food now that you had been reminded. You could feel him watching your every move, and glimpsed the fond look on his face as he did. He praised the food endlessly, even the salad, and it made you feel so warm and loved. “Why me?” He asked after a moment of quiet. “Because during all the chaos this morning, while everyone was worried about fighting, you stepped between me and the threat to my health. You worried about me, while all the others were worried first about their packs. You made me feel safe,” You answered softly. He nodded, seeming happy about your answer. “You know, your father carried me on his back for a whole day once. I was eight and I had thought he was JY, so I jumped on his back and I just ended up staying there. Neither of us were willing to admit it was a mistake and get the other one off. “I remember. You stayed there all throughout dinner, and my father was feeding you over his shoulder. You looked pleased. I couldn’t figure out what was going on.” “It was like we both had this unspoken challenge of who would stop first. After that he always was nice to me when he saw me. He would ask how I was like he really cared. Treated me like I was one of his pack every time.” “He did. He really did. About everyone that he met. I just wish…” You took a deep breath, then let it out. “I wish he had been able to spend his last days with people that actually cared back. All he had was me, and a few elders here and there. He tried to make sure all of us were strong warriors, but a leader can only do so much and the rest is up to the parents. I would have thought with the poachers they would take teaching their children better, but they were complacent. If you asked my packmates what I was they would say alpha. Because I fought, and hunted, and achieved so much. It’s easy to achieve much when so little is being done by others.” “Hmm, I can’t actually tell if you’re a beta or an omega. Not by your scent. And your actions are strong for an omega, but given the way your pack was, you could just be a very strong, and strong-willed, omega.” He walked with you to the stream to help wash the dishes. Then he stopped moving, looking at you with wide eyes. “You’re a gamma, aren’t you?” You nodded once, then knelt beside the stream. “My grandmother was as well.” “I’ve only heard wive’s tales of gammas,” He replied, kneeling beside you. “Gammas are basically betas,” You explained, sort of brushing it off the way you had your whole life with the elders when they fawned over you. “Is it true that they only submit to those that they respect or love, or an ultimate alpha?” “Did you not see me challenge the leader of the Stem Pack? Did you not catch me accidentally submitting to Namjoon?” He was quiet, and you could feel him staring at you. “Namjoon?” “He’s an ultimate alpha,” You answered, scrubbing at the pot the rabbit had roasted in. “Only one I’ve ever noticed, anyway. There may have been one or two in the other packs that I just never talked with.” “Huh.” You took his surprised sound and subsequent silence as him thinking, feeling no need to fill the silence. “And what about me?” You looked at him. “What about you?” “Would you submit to me?” “Of course.” “What if I didn’t want you to?” You shrugged. “When I submit it’s more like deferring to your leadership than being bossed around. Just like it would be with a beta. I don’t feel overpowered by you, but I do feel the need to let you lead. Did we mark the distance to the stream?” “I’ll do it in the morning. So, if I were to tell you to go to the tent and be ready for us to mate?” “Depends on how much you mean it.” His arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. His lips against the side of your neck. “Go ahead back to the tent, baby. I’ll bring back the dishes. You get ready for us to mate.” Chills went up and down your spine, and your head tilted back, exposing your throat completely. “Okay.” His fingers brushed over your throat before he let go of you and you turned to kiss him. “I love you,” He murmured. “I love you. Don’t take to long,” You whispered, then headed back toward your camp with a peaceful, warm and fuzzy feeling. You definitely made the right decision.

Masterlist. ~ Masterpost. ~ Introduction.

#got7 #got7 fic #got7 jackson #jackson wang x reader #readerxjacksonwang #jackson wang #pack trials #hybrid!au #hybrid!got7 #im jaebum #mark tuan #bambam #youngjae #jinyoung #yugyeom #abo dynamics #packtrialsseries

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shellheadtmarc · 5 years

Note

📖 our muses read a story (quinn & duncan, story time with daddy tony !!)

This particular copy of The Hobbit had been well-loved before the bombs; it’s a fact made obvious from the many dog-eared pages within, the bookmark crocheted from cotton thread that had also been tucked away deep inside. There’s no name in the cover, no indication as to who it might have belonged to, and that actually suits him best - probably the reason he’d picked it up in the first place, because he’s never been a fan of Middle Earth. Stories about elves and dwarves have never caught him - he grew up with King Arthur and Camelot, and the Knights of the Round Table. And it’s a damn shame that thus far he has yet to come across any books with those stories. He’d take Gawain and the Green Knight any day over Thorin and his Company.

The boys, however, are of a very different opinion on that front. It makes sense, right, The Hobbit is a kids’ story. And on one of the bookshelves just outside, in the makeshift library, there’s a copy of all three parts of Lord of the Rings, waiting to carry on the story once they wrap up the retaking of Erebor and the defeat of Smaug and the squabbles between men, elves, and dwarves. And orcs. It’s a damn good thing he’s found those - his memory of both sets of stories has been extremely foggy, and somehow or another they’d found out there’s more to the story than just the book they’ve been making their way through, and he could never in a million years drag that out of his memory without a refresher. Sure, he could make something up, but this way? He doesn’t have to think too long or too hard about Middle Earth at all.

He doesn’t read ahead for this - honestly there’s not a soul on earth that could pay him to do that, this is a labor of love in every sense of the word. He is, in fact, only slogging through this and rallying enthusiasm for it because both Duncan and Quinn have gotten attached to the story itself, and characters within. He’s not so sure Quinn is old enough to really grasp it all - even for a kid as smart as he is. (As if there’s ever been any doubt he’ll be a handful - all anybody has to do is look at himself, and look at Zetta, and they know - genetics didn’t fuck around in the slightest in that respect.) But Duncan, who’s a few years older, most certainly is.

Which is why, now at the end, he comes to a somewhat troubling conundrum. The Company has always been presented as something of a unit - a Greek chorus of sorts that moves as one - with the exception of the line of Durin: Thorin, Kili, and Fili have, in a very simplistic way, been set apart, developed further. He’s not a Lit guy, he’s just a mechanic, but he’s read a lot of books, and he is not unintelligent, and he is also fairly sure that, narratively, that’s been on purpose. Because here at the end he remembers: Just like that, the entire line of Durin wiped out in a succession of a few pages, nothing more than a footnote in the history of Middle Earth. And he - he can admit this - panics.

Death is a reality in the wasteland. It usually comes swiftly, brutally, and without mercy. It takes the young, it takes the old. It takes the healthy and the infirm and everything in between. It doesn’t care if a person is all alone in the world or if they have a support network spanning a continent. It’s an important lesson probably best learned early on, because wariness and suspicion will keep you alive out here. That’s the facts of it. Even Tony, a man who’d hit the prime stride of his life before the dropping of the bombs, isn’t stupid enough to believe it should be a conversation avoided until you just can’t anymore.

The problem, however, the fact that makes him panic - because no one covers this and he’s still very, painfully new at this fatherhood thing - is what to do when you come to this impasse. Duncan is not, and likely never will be, the healthiest kid. Sure, he’s survived the Blue Flu, and that in an of itself is practically a miracle, even with the unlikely cure that had been dug out of the very bowels of Med-Tek. And that’s fine, Tony would go delving into that ghoul-infested hellhole in a second if he needed to, and do it all over again. Wouldn’t bat an eyelash at the need for it. But the problem is, it’s left Duncan on the frail side. His immune system took one hell of a beating, he’s a kid of the wasteland, born to wastelanders. If he doesn’t end up…Well. In a lot of ways like his dad, Tony’ll be surprised. After all, RJ MacCready has every marker of being someone who grew up in less than ideal conditions in an already harsh world, too. Short, underfed-looking, really, no matter how stable and safe the home. And Duncan gets the added bonus of of having the roughest of starts, when it comes down to it.

That’s enough to kick Tony’s…He hesitates to use the term protective instincts, but that’s what it is…Into gear. But he also knows good and damn well Duncan’s gotten attached to Kili. He’s the smallest, he’s…Well. He’s the most like Duncan, it makes sense, right? Of course a kid his age is gonna latch on to the character that - even if they don’t realize it - reminds them of themselves. And Kili dies. He dies, and he’s given a single, solitary line to mark that passing and…Honestly? It hits a little too close to home. The wasteland is harsh - people die with less notice every single day - but he’s not going to be the one to sit here and tell the kid that the character he’s found himself in gets no better ending than a single line to mark his death and a quick mention in a funeral. He’s not, he can’t. He won’t. He’s always said he won’t be that parent, you know, that he won’t be the guy that lies to his kids because lying sets a terrible precedent. It’s easy to slide down that slope - a little white lie to spare feelings there, something bigger tomorrow. And he’s bad about lying. It’s a reflex. And when Quinn was born he said he wouldn’t coddle to the point of making him unprepared for the world - and that goes for Duncan, too, that kid’s as much his now as Quinn is - to make sure they’ll survive. He’s sworn up and down he won’t set them up for failure, as best as he - with his limited experience and limited knowledge - is able.

But right now he lies through his fucking teeth.

In their version of The Hobbit, then, Kili, Fili, and Thorin all survive. There’s no funeral, there’s a celebration. Thorin is King Under the Mountain. Kili and Fili will live to be old dwarves. And it concludes with Bilbo returning to the Shire with a bounce in his step, and from there on the story continues as normal. He throws out his relatives trying to take his things, and he takes himself a well-earned rest. And when it’s over and done and they’re tucked in and the book is back on the shelf…He doesn’t feel bad about it. It’s not going to be something that weighs on him. And tomorrow night they’ll pick up years down the road, right back in the Shire (it’s amazing how things come back to you when you get your memory jogged, even if it’s something you’ve never really cared for) with Bibo’s nephew.

And sure, one day they’ll no doubt go back and read the book again, and realize the story they remember is not the story as it exists. He’s not going to let himself feel bad then, either. He’s not going to tell that kid all that struggle ended up being for nothing because lying is one thing in this case. Planting the seeds of the idea that struggle is ultimately fruitless? The good guys only get a pyrrhic victory at the end? It might be how it’s always worked out in his business - his other business, that is - but killing that kind of optimism early on? He won’t be the one to do it.

random act prompts : accepting : @gwinnetts

#gwinnetts #⚛ (protocol: answered) / i stole the keys from the sky #⚛ (protocol: ic asks) / a soul in tension that's learning to fly #⚛ (program: fallout group 2) / with my two fists of iron but i'm going nowhere #// mala's coming for my goddamn throat #// anyway so this isn't #// a traditional meme response no #// but #// this was where he went with it and you know good and damn well #// he's got the wheel #long post #long post for ts

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broken-clover · 5 years

Text

12 Days of Whump- Search Party

Technically not late! At least one was posted before midnight. I hope to heck tomorrow’s actually comes in on time. I didn’t proofread as well as I usually do, I’ll look over it in the morning just to see if I can make it any better.

Day 11 of the 12 days of Whump- Search Party, featuring Zappa, Faust, and the Paranormal Investigation Team!

“Maan, it’s been a wild year, huh?”

Zappa perked up at that, turning to look at Randy. “I suppose so. What makes you say that now?”

“Are you serious, where have you been?” The man wore a cheshire smile as he leaned back in his chair. “Did’ja forget the fact that the last time we were in here, we wound up solving a mystery with demons and most up us wound up missing for two weeks?”

“Ah. Right.” Zappa paled a little. “I was hoping I’d finally be able to repress that memory.”

“You were the only one who didn’t fly out of a building like a goddamn firework! Besides, there was also the whole ‘end of the world because the pope turned out to be a genocidal robot’ thing.”

“Aside from that, though, has it really been that interesting? Up until the last couple of months, nothing was really happening.”

Randy’s smile fell. “Why’re you being such a downer today?”

Zappa shrugged. “Just don’t feel like teasing fate, is all. There’s only a few hours left until the new year, so I want to try and make it without any other accidents.”

“My food’s ready!” Alexis burst through the door, hoisting a dish of some kind of pasta. “Did you guys finish already?”

“I brought some drinks from home!” Randy gestured to a trio of colorful bottles on the table. “Nothing alcoholic, though, they wouldn’t let me ship that across country borders.”

The woman laughed at that, putting her steaming container down. “Bummer. How ‘bout you, Zappa? Anything good from Australia?”

“My mother sent some of the jams we make with the crops we grow.” He reached out and picked up a jar. “It’s really good on toast! The onion jelly is my favorite.”

“Who the heck makes jelly out of onions?” Shaking his head, Randy made a little gagging noise. “Friggin Australians…”

“Greetings, paranormal team! I come bearing food!”

All three turned to the door, bearing various shades of confusion as a too-tall figure ducked inside the room.

“Dr. Faust?” Zappa asked. “What are you doing here?”

“Spreading some festivity!” The bag-headed man’s voice was at its usual whimsical tone. “Mr Kiske mentioned there was some New Year’s celebration. I’d planned to head out in the morn, so a bit of last-minute festivities seemed apt before my departure! If it helps, I did bring my own dish to contribute.”

Randy glanced at his companions. “Listen, doc, I dunno why-”

“-You feel like you’d be unwelcome!” Alexis cut him off. “By all means, find a seat! We’d love to try whatever it is you’ve made!”

Faust lit up at that, though it was hard to tell with his face obscured. “Well, don’t mind if I do!”

It didn’t take long after that for the rest of the paranormal investigation team to show up, with everyone bringing a different dish to add to the swiftly-growing pile on the table. A few people eyes Faust’s unexpected appearance with wariness, but most of them were too caught up in the festive mood to react with more than a quick glance.

“Here’s to a new year, guys!”

“Hold it, Randy!” Someone interjected. “It’s New Years! We can’t toast without champagne!”

“Huh? Why not?”

“I dunno...just feels wrong, I guess.”

Someone else sent Faust an aside glance. “Should we really be discussing champagne around a doctor?”

“A bit of alcohol can be good for the cardiovascular system!” Faust chimed in. “Besides, I’m not immune to indulgences, myself. No need to hesitate around me!”

“Uhh, doc?” Randy said. “What exactly is it that you brought?”

“Hmm? Ah, I suppose I forgot to say that, didn’t I?” He made a little gesture towards his dish, a mix of something white in a red sauce. “Mapo tofu! Very popular where I grew up. A bit spicy, but very tasty.”

Someone raised their spoon. “Oh, oh, pass it! I wanna try!”

The team fell into loud, cheerful chatter, swapping stories and memories from the past year and their hopes for the next. Everyone seemed to lose track of time as the pitch-black sky opened up and began dumping down snow, creating a beautiful view through the unobscured windows.

Before long, the numerous dishes had been almost picked clean. “Ohhh, whoever brought the ziti, it was delicious, and also I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Alexis shook her head in disappointment. “Why did you eat so much, Randy?”

“Such good sauce....right, Zappa?”

When he got no response, he sat up and looked around. “Zappa? Where’d he go?”

“He mentioned he was leaving to go and get something.” Replied Faust. “Though, now that you mention it, it has been a rather long amount of time since I’ve seen him.”

“Randy, do you have his com?” Alexis asked.

“Yeah, good point. I’ll just send him a ping and see where he’s gone to. I’m sure it’s nothing…”

The chatter in the room quickly settled down as the magic com rang once, twice. It kept ringing over and over again, as the atmosphere grew more and more tense.

”Hi, um, this is Zappa, please leave a message-”

“The heck?” Randy looked at his own fading com in disbelief. “I can’t think of the last time he hasn’t picked up. Maybe the weather’s messing with it?”

Faust was already out of his chair. “This is concerning. Would everyone be willing to partake in a search before dessert?”

Unsure murmurs were passed between the group. Ultimately, nobody seemed to have any major objections, though the current ambiguity was making people worry.

“Here, this is the frequency for his magic-com, keep trying to call it until we can get him to pick up.” Randy gave a quick demonstration. “He can’t have gone too far. I guess we can split up into groups and look around whatever shops are still open and see if they’ve seen him at all.”

Despite the initial aversion, the team easily divided themselves into smaller groups and started heading out via the nearest castle exit. The weather was just as unpleasant as it looked, and everyone was immediately buffeted by snow.

“Sheesh, what the hell possessed him to go out in this weather?” Wrapping arms across his chest, Randy looked back and forth before picking a direction and starting to walk, followed closely behind by Faust and Alexis.

“I’m not sure. Though considering the temperature, it does concern me quite a bit. I do hope he’s managed to find shelter.” Faust said.

The town outside of the castle’s walls was bright with lights, but very few buildings were open so late with it being so late on New Year’s. Randy kept trying to make calls, only to be met with the answering machine over and over again.

“The grocer said he hasn’t seen him?”

Alexis shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Dammit. I’ll try calling again.”

Faust perked up. “Mr Randy, is your com malfunctioning?”

“Huh? No, why do you ask?”

“I’m getting an odd sort of feedback. Miss Alexis, is your com running?”

“No?”

“Then why…”

The doctor took off running down the snow-covered path, leaving his two companions behind. Randy and Alexis exchanged looks before sprinting off after him.

“The heck is he doing?” She asked.

“Finally lost it? I don’t know much about the guy. Just try not to lose him!”

As it turned out, Faust hadn’t been running off for no reason. As the two of them turned around the next corner, they spotted the man hunched over next to a lump half-buried in the snow.

“Is that…?”

“There we are, there we go.” Faust was muttering quietly, barely audible over the wind. He brushed his long fingers over the snow, feeling something underneath it. “Just keep ticking. I know it’s cold out. You’re going to be fine.”

In one smooth motion, he pulled the shape out of the snow and held it tightly. When he turned back around, Alexis and Randy realized that it was in fact Zappa, curled up in a ball and seemingly unconscious.

“He was out here the whole time?” Alexis sounded horrified. “Is he dead?”

“No, no.” Faust’s voice was unexpectedly calm. “Just cold. We’re going home now.”

It was Randy’s turn to be confused. “Home? What are you going on about? What about us?��

The doctor made a little motion with one hand. A green door suddenly appeared in the middle of the street. When it swung open, they weren’t greeted with the sight of the other end of the street. Instead, it opened up to reveal a dark, unfamiliar landscape, filled with odd somethings that neither of them could identify from a glance.

“Of course you’re coming with us. Step inside my door.”

The two looked at each other again, and reluctantly followed Faust inside.

++++++

What seemed like only a second later, the small group was dumped back out into the dining room, with everything exactly as they’d left it.

Aliexis looked back at the door as it swung shut and began to fade. “W-what the hell was that?!”

Randy looked around. “Huh?”

“In the door? Didn’t you see that?”

“Nah, I blinked.”

“You blinked?!”

While the two squabbled, Faust made his way over to one of the room’s couches, settling Zappa down on it. He reached into hammerspace and pulled out his oddly-patterned green tarp, lifting it up to be used as a blanket. Before he could toss it over the motionless figure, though, he noticed that he seemed to be wrapped around something.

“Oh? What have you got there?”

With a bit of maneuvering, he pulled out out a yellowish bottle, adorned with a pretty blue ribbon. Curiosity piqued, he took a glance at the card that hung off of it.

’Congratulations on a great year, guys, here’s to one more!

~Zappa’

“Aww…” With his free hand, Faust tossed the tarp-blanket over him, offering a little pat on the head.

Randy turned his head at the sound. “Faust, you say something?”

“Well, ah,” he hoisted up the bottle, “anyone up for a glass of champagne?”

#*dabs into the void*#guilty gear #Faust #Zappa

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