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ktheist · 4 years

Text

heartbreaker of mine

muses. jungkook x reader

synopsis. ah, here we are again. the overtold, cliche as hell story about two best friends who might or might not be in love with each other. except you can’t - wouldn’t dare to dream about being with jungkook.

alternatively, wherein you fell for the one who could break your heart.

words. 7.5k

universe. university / slice of life

warnings. mentions of physical insecurities; appearance, commitment issues

you should have known that in the absence of two of your best friends, nothing ever goes right when you decide to hang out. it isn’t the fact that you’ve known each other since diapers and basically know anything and everything about the other, that at some point you feel like your friendship is stale and need new additions - that’s where park jimin and kim taehyung comes in; a year older but several younger at heart, you couldn’t have imagined going through uni life with someone but them - but it’s the fact that realization hits you at the end of your final year that makes you drift apart.

the fact of the matter is, you prefer the solitude of your room, the library of that one spot in the cafe that you’ve claimed as yours. and jeon jungkook prefers the blare of music, strobe lights and bodies grinding against him.

by your final year, as you receive a job offer at the company you interned in on your second year, taehyung is already working part time at the company he interned in, jimin thinking about that modeling offer he just got scouted for and jeon jungkook is getting daddies of the girls he’s having a thing with to get him to work at their office just so their daughter can see their favorite boy more - yours and jungkook’s friendship has dwindled down to mere silences as you wait for the other two to knock on the door and fill the place up with their endless bickering about whether dumplings are better than mochi.

“shouldn’t you like, give me advice?” are the words jungkook said to you while you type away on your laptop, trying to do some light reading for tomorrow’s class before your mac gets confiscated for ‘pooping the party’ as taehyung likes to call it.

and you know what he’s talking about without even having preambles of the topic make its way into the conversation.

yet you still take off your glasses and set it down in your lap and ask, “what could jeon jungkook possibly have not known and needed advice on?”

he scrunches his nose, not appreciating your sarcasm but humors it anyway, “you know,” he shrugs, as though shrunk into the sofa from either shyness or embarrassment - you don’t know, “on like, how to start being serious about life - and settling down.”

the silence that stretches is a stale one, filled with your blank stare and jungkook’s peering eyes - even at the age of 22, the stars still glimmer like they’ve been freshly plucked from the skies.

“you want me to help pick, out of the many job offers you got from your girlfriends’ rich parents, for you to do?” is your conclusion - though if you were 2 years younger and had a little bit more faith for the boy you basically called your twin, it would have been a good natured jest. but you’re older and jungkook isn’t exactly portraying characteristics of an upstanding citizen either.

“no,” his hair brushes against his brows as he shakes his head almost too eagerly - as though he saw that coming but still got upset and wanted to prove you wrong, “like how to start taking things seriously like settling down with someone and no, not with out of my many girlfriends - can we not call them that? it makes me sound like an ass.”

it takes you less than five seconds to digest his words, eyes drifting to the white screen of your mac for the sole reason you can’t bear to hold his intense gaze while you conjure up a response, “well for one, you are but there’s honestly nothing i can tell you that you don’t know already and there’s nothing i can possibly say to make you want to change - it has to come from you. or like, a professional that could help and if you think you need one, i’ll be with you all step-“

the brief scoff is what puts a rest to your racing thoughts while the smile on his lips put your heart at ease, “i’m not addicted to sex.”

“oh, okay.” is all you say, not seeing where the conversation is going as you watch the boy scratch the back of his ear, lips pulled into a pout - one way you know he’s trying to strum words into existence. and when he does, confused is an understatement to describe what your face is portraying.

“okay, i’m saying if and if you’re looking for a husband, no, scratch that, would you even introduce someone like me to your parents?” but that’s the thing, you’re not confused because you don’t know where this is going but you’re confused because you don’t pretend to be oblivious.

but you’re also not a master at the art of heart-to-hearts and the gargantuan elephant that it brings. so you settle with a, “uh, i don’t know, you already know my parents, don’t know how i can reverse that and reintroduce you-“

“that’s not the point,” he blinks, the sight almost endearing as he freezes in his spot for a split second in contemplation of how to approach the matter and explain it to you who seem like you’re way off, “the point is-“

“i get it.” you nod, arms crossing over your chest as jungkook’s wide eyes peers into you like a mixture of relief anticipation.

“you do?”

“you’re worried if your future partner will be insecure about the bodies you’ve seen before them,” there’s a knock on the door just as you’ve finished speaking.

as you get up to get up to answer it, knowing already who’s there from the obnoxious chatters - more like argument - you’re not sure if your brain is playing tricks on you or if jungkook’s shoulder line really falls as well as his face.

but the, “uh, yeah, i guess,” is what makes you push the image of dimmed stars and downturned pink lips to the back of your mind as you unlock the door, welcoming the two halfway-into-a-deep-quarreling men and their two bags of take-away roasted chicken, chips, mashed potatoes and whatever else they thought necessary to fill the game night with.

“thanks, shortcake,” taehyung smiles at you after you take a plastic bags off his and jimin’s hands and proceed to place it on the coffee table.

“tae, you’re literally taller than everyone,” throwing him a side glance, you shrug as you begin taking out the packed chicken wings and placing it in front of jungkook while taehyung helps with unpacking the add-ons from another bag, “calling me short isn’t exactly an insult.”

“i’m just saying we should demolish mint chocolate chips all at once,” jimin plops down on the couch adjacent to jungkook, “and no, we can’t let these savages go eating them - we need to educate-“

somewhere in the middle of jimin’s colonial-esque speech, you turn to the boy who’s never said a word since the two came in. not that those too needed an additional converse partner with how taehyung is advocating for leaving mint chocolate chip eaters alone and jimin staying with his stance that these people haven’t had a taste of all flavors in the world yet.

the way he seems to look at something past your shoulders tells you enough - he’s still deep in his thoughts about settling down, or changing or whatever. you don’t know why exactly he wants to change his heartbreaker ways but- “there’s nothing wrong with two adults having a - or multiple - consensual sexual relationship prior to finding their significant other. and if they have a problem with that then that’s something they need to work on, not you so no, i don’t think you should change anything unless you want to.”

it’s some days later that taehyung brings up the remnant of the conversation he overheard before the four of you began arguing about what movie to watch and ended up putting the fate of humanity in rock paper scissors. and so you tell him, without ever thinking of the one thing that spurred his ridiculous thought and the hesitance of pouring it onto you.

“don’t look at me, i’m not snitching.” jimin’s round, disbelieved eyes stares back at taehyung as though surprised the latter would ever think he’d do such a thing.

“okay but someone’s gotta tell her.” taehyung lowly mumbles, upper body turned to jimin, gracing you with his beautiful side profile - whoever gets to date him will forever be the lucky one.

“guys, i’m literally right here.” the sound of your voice warrants a turn of heads and a wide-eyed stare as though they’re seeing your ghost rather than your physical form that entered and picked a spot together with them.

it takes a moment for the elephant to settle somewhere in the corner and crush you with its invisible weight before taehyung turns to you, hand behind his mouth as he fake coughs into it. then, another moment for you to register taehyung’s words as you watch his mouth move and his gaze trained on you like a father teaching his daughter a life-lesson before he lets her out into the world. once his mouth stops moving and a second passes for you to take in the information, only two words leave your lips.

“you trippin’,” with a half-manic smile and brows knitted together, you look almost like you’re made for the asylum- but understandably, your admittance is overdue.

as your heart palpitate inside the confines of your rib cages and the scene from that night replays at the back of your eyes like a broken record - jungkook’s hesitant glance, the windows to his soul shutting tight with hesitance and the teeth that traps his lower lips as though his body is forbidding him to say whatever his heart and mind wanted - as much as it pains you to admit it, the signs were all there.

you just didn’t want to admit it.

that’s what pining over a best friend you’ve known for over a decade does.

the denial that comes after realizing you don’t want anyone else to touch jungkook when im nayoung stood on her tippy toes and pecked jungkook’s lips before running off with a flustered expression - you were both in elementary and jungkook was more into sleepovers with the abundance of plushies you had than hanging with ‘other kids’.

then comes the ugly head of self-loathing and guilt as you fixed park jihyo a smile as jungkook introduced you two. one, as his girlfriend and the other, his best friend.

both, in love with him.

it’s ugly and disgusting, jealousy that is. but you’re uglier for smiling and laughing with jihyo over the things you would with a best friend who’s a girl - there were things you couldn’t share with jungkook as a girl. but you’d let your eyes linger a second too on them as they shared a peck when he’d meet you too in front of the school gate after his extra class was over - you lost count of the times you wished you were her.

you carried the pathetic little mask of a smile to uni. by then, jungkook had broken up with jihyo. there was a lot of tears and consoling and empty words of assurance.

“hey, if you guys are meant to be, you’ll meet again someway somehow.” you’d fixed her an encouraging smile as your heart bloomed with hope for when you’ll get jungkook’s attention all to yourself once you start uni.

getting into the same one had been pure luck.

it didn’t bring you far though. jungkook started gaining attention for his friendly nature and bunny smile that attracted both males and females. it wasn’t long until he’s bringing you to parties where he’d keep you by his side because he knew you didn’t know most of these people. tried to get you involved in the conversation but there was nothing interesting about the dude who drank himself silly and woke up in front of an old lady’s door butt naked or about that girl who woke up a five minutes before class in a city an hour away from where her dorm is.

well, at least, none of them seemed like jungkook’s type. he never had a girlfriend throughout his years in uni though he had plenty of other experiences that makes you wonder what in the world he hasn’t tried yet.

being in a relationship, is probably the only thing he hasn’t done.

jungkook liked kind people. ones that didn’t point at a random person and say an offhanded comment and collectively laugh about it. someone that laughs and smiles a lot because and didn’t have a single bad bone in their body.

liked.

because you don’t know what kind of person jungkook likes now. but you never thought him asking a hypothetical question from what seems like another person's perspective about his lifestyle would be, as taehyung calls it-

“i’m telling you,” he slams a hand on the table, a loud pap! resonating in the air but he doesn’t seem bothered by the pain - if there is any - as his eyes bore into you, “that was jungkook shooting his shot!”

“i don’t know,” you take a sip from the metal straw of your matte black tumbler for the sake of doing something, “it doesn’t feel real but i can kind of see it?”

“take it for what it is, love,” the pull of his eyebrows together couldn’t have been more frustrating, “jungkook has every reason to have the fattest crush on you - i mean look at you, you’re funny, adorable and nicer than all his friends combined.”

jungkook has multiple friend groups he hangs out with. funny how you started out as duos and merged into a quadruplet and ended up being that friend group that jeon jungkook doesn’t really look like he fits in but he’s probably hanging out with you guys from time to time because you’d known each other the longest. or so word has it.

“that’s basically everyone who’s not his friends.” with an eye roll, you wrap your mouth around the straw. this time, for the sake of hiding the smile that threatens to bloom on your face as it is in your heart.

and that’s how you find yourself in more than one ‘don’t you dare’ moments. jimin has begun randomly pointing out something about your hair accessory to your clothes to your fucking strawberry printed socks.

to prove a point, he said.

“hey beautiful,” oh, and he’s resorted to calling you all the adjectives in the world - but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work in making jungkook’s face scrunch in displeasure for the briefest moment as he glances at jimin as though he’s an adjective away from beating the man into a bloody pulp, “nice shirt.”

despite knowing the comment is every bit staged - and probably doesn’t mean that your minnie and mickey mouse shirt is anywhere compliment-worthy, you still look down at the two mice, one kissing the other on the cheek.

the “uh, thanks,” couldn’t have been more dubious and skeptic.

and so begins jimin’s not-so-secret mission to bring jungkook’s attention to you.

“isn’t the stickers on ___’s mac cute, jungkook?”

jungkook skims at the grizzly, panda and ice bears scattered across your mac before breaking into a smug smirk, “of course they are, i bought them for ___.”

you can almost hear jimin and taehyung high-fiving on the row behind you just as the professor walks in.

while jungkook seems to oblivious to it all, eyes trained to the display on the on the front, you allow yourself to indulge in the heat that seeps through your pores and warms your heart.

it’s not like jungkook stopped going to parties.

but finals season is almost upon you and he’s been hanging out with you more. sitting next to you in class while jimin and taehyung dozes off at the back.

“they sleep in class just to spend hours on end studying at the library,” jungkook huffs, eyebrows knitting together adorably as he stresses over your two friends’ stamina for sitting in one place for six hours straight and only needing a bottle of water at their disposal, “i mean, why can’t they just focus in class so they don’t have to study a whole semester’s worth of syllabus in the last minute and drag us into it?”

the six hour mark ended and they’re out getting some snacks for you to secretly munch on until the library closes.

“i mean,” you begin, eyebrows jolting upwards at the more-than-obvious fact he’s supposed to already know, “you technically came here with your own free will, you’re free to leave whenever you want.”

another sigh hits the air as the boy slams his onto the book he has open in front of him, “yeah, but i need to study to pass and i needed you guys to push me,” he laments.

ever since then, there’d been far too many moments of where you’re stuck with jungkook to wait for the two non-time-abiding asses. at first, excuses like ‘sorry we’re late, we were getting mcdonald’s’ or some other poor fast food restaurants’ name that became the patsy, but they started dwindling to ‘oh hey, sorry, we didn’t notice the time’ and eventually a ‘hey, jimin’s got a meeting with a professor and he’s my ride so you guys go first’.

and before you know it, finals pass and you’re visiting your hometown while jungkook stuck around for a part-time job with taehyung whilst jimin drops off the face of the earth after having mentioned that he’s going on a family vacation at some private island with apparently the worst wifi connection ‘like ever.’

the two now-co-workers keep spamming the group chat with pictures of them in their uniforms, holding different drinks which they personally every time. when you’re staying over with your grandmother, it’s your turn to spam pictures of her great black cat who seem to only like sitting in her lap and glaring at you in every picture you take of the two watching tv together. almost as if he had a sixth sense when it comes to cameras.

“when are you coming back?” jungkook grumbles from the other end of line.

you’ve just got a shower and he’s just got home from a night shift. he’s probably haven’t even taken off his jacket yet when he proposed calling you like the sporadic times you both did throughout the break.

“i don’t know. i don’t feel like going back maybe even until the ceremony,” you confess, half-meaning it. the gardening, and saying hello’s to everyone you see while buying groceries because everyone knows everyone here, and the best-tasting cookies your grandma make, and waking up to her cat suffocating you in your sleep, isn’t so bad.

“i’m dying here,” he sighs, sounding more relaxed and probably lying on his bed now, “if i have to insist that i can’t ‘reheat’ coffee and can only make a new one and end up having to hide in the kitchen for five seconds to pretend like there’s a secret microwave only for coffees,” he says all in one breath before letting a suspenseful silence hang in the air and then finally revealing the next big thing he’ll do, “i’m seriously going to spit in their coffee while in the kitchen pretending to reheat it with an invisible microwave.”

the laughter that tumbles out of your mouth is probably ugly and you probably snorted a couple times but jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. or care as he keeps insisting ‘i’m really gonna do it’ whilst you end up laughing until your stomach hurts and tears begin to prick your eyes.

“is this the same regular that like, wants their coffee like super hot?” you finally manage to ask, traces of laughter still threatening to spill from your lips.

“yeah,” his sounds impressed, “how’d you know?”

“tae told me,” you make an incredulous face and shrug even though he can’t see, “you do realize you work at the same place, right?”

“yeah but i never see him talk about it in the group but i probably missed it-”

“oh no,” your hand goes up in a dismissive wave, “we talk on the phone and he told me about it.”

“you guys talk on the phone too?” there’s a strain in his voice, possibly out of surprise.

“yeah, like every day.” you say, tongue subconsciously lapping over your bottom lip.

“oh,” is all he says for the longest moment before chirping out the billion dollar question, “why aren’t we talking every day?”

“i don’t know,” your shoulder line rises, almost swallowing your neck as a war breaks out within yourself, “we did try at the beginning of break but you always had a party to go to so...”

“oh,” this ‘oh’ is a little bit dejected and perhaps hits a little different before he continues, “i don’t go to those anymore.”

this time, it’s your jaw that falls. your voice is small, almost as though cautiously teetering on tightrope as you ask, “...why not?”

“i just didn’t see the point of going anymore you know? once we graduate, i won’t even talk to these people anymore - but i wanna continue being friends with you guys.”

the ‘you guys’ meaning you, taehyung and jimin. the bros. the homies. it’s no secret that he probably sees you all as the same gender, not a guy nor a girl but just friends.

well. it’s not the first time jungkook’s friendzoned you.

“that’s great,” you can’t help but nod even though you know he can’t see you, “i wanna keep being friends with you too, jungkook.”

ever since then, you talk almost everyday. sometimes in three’s and when taehyung had a shift and jungkook got off his, it’d just be the two of you. and for the first time, in ages, it feels as though the ‘best’ in your friendship has somewhat reintroduced itself once more. jimin somewhat manages to get a connection somewhere along the way and the first thing he did was complain about the three digit number in a red bubble in the corner of the message app and then managing to get one picture of him in flowery trunks, and a baby monkey eating a banana perched on his shoulder with the beach in the background before disappearing for the rest of the month until two weeks before the graduation ceremony.

“so like, do you have anyone to pick you up?” jungkook asks from he other end of the line. he sounds more free since it’s the last day of his job.

“yeah,” you announce, attentiveness laced in your tone for your next words might be indicative enough, “my sister.”

“what.” he drags out the word in a disbelieving tone and it’s no secret why he’s doing that- “i haven’t seen you in ages! and you’re going to your sister’s? wait - this isn’t like a permanent thing right? we’ll get to hang out before the ceremony, right?”

it takes you a moment to register the series of questions he bombarded you with and before you know it, the silence has already turned your voice into a small and guilt-ridden, “um, yes and no?”

a groan.

“i haven’t seen seulgi in forever too and she kept nagging me to visit her during break but i never did so now she has like a whole week’s worth of itinerary planned out for us to do before the ceremony,” the excuse trickles out of your mouth hurriedly, “jungkook, i have to do this, or the next time we’ll meet it’s at my funeral and you’ll be talking to my dead carcass before they bury me.”

it takes a moment of anticipating silence before he grumbles out a “fine. but after that, you’re staying over at my place.”

“okay but i mean if we’re having stay over’s wouldn’t tae’s place be better since he has a whole ass apartment for himself?” you’re at that point where you’re discussing stay over arrangements before actually consulting the owner of the place.

“i guess,” his voice is a little lower and smaller but it revives at the mention of the new pizza place that just opened before you decided to invite the other two in the call to make plans to visit there.

when the day finally comes for you to don the royal blue robe and cap, you do so with barely enough grace and composure for someone who’s about to receive her blood sweat and tears on a stage all because you and your sister are - this must be karma for shading taehyung and jimin for being - a bunch of non-time-abiding asses.

the double doors are almost closed as you struggle with not tripping on your high heels whilst trying to keep your hair out of your face.

“where have you been?” you almost didn’t recognize the golden man who tapped you on your shoulder from behind.

“jimin! you made it!” is the first thing you say.

“rich coming from someone who barely got to her seat in time,” he gives you a once over and you’re not quite sure what he sees because your back which he’ll be looking most at is clad is oversized blue robe. but despite that, you reach out to give his hand a squeeze and he takes it with just as a tight, ‘we made it’ kind of squeeze before you turn to the chancellor that’s beginning his speech.

you’re not sure which row jungkook is at or if he even sees you and you read taehyung’s ‘i feel like a proud momma’ text because his major adds another year to his studies than you, jimin and jungkook.

the ceremony goes on without a hitch and you’d like to believe your picture is as perfect as your make up which your sister claims to be ‘out of this world!’ - only because it’s her that did it.

“so you guys talk everyday?” jimin pulls you into him, a smile gracing his beautifully tanned skin as he steals a glance at something behind your shoulders - possibly jungkook whom you saw was being swarmed by his friends to take pictures with.

“yeah, i guess,” you casually say with a shrug.

“it’s true, i was there,” taehyung comes up next to you, replacing jimin’s arms with his in a side hug.

“man, i really wish i witness it all,” jimin grumbles, “but the connection on that island was shitty.”

“i’m sure you connected in different ways,” the taller man adds, a strain in his voice which the shorter doesn’t seem to notice as he try to wave off the belatedly relayed fact that his family is a different kind of family.

like the kind that invites sex workers and other business colleagues alike to enjoy themselves for as long as they wanted, as long as the park family was there.

“okay but how long is he going to take?” jimin quizzes, eyebrows soaring whilst you and taehyung follow his gaze to the growing size of people a few feet away who clearly look like they’re here for a photoshoot than a simple graduation ceremony, “my parents kinda skipped work to see me go on stage and get a piece of paper they paid a lot for so i kinda want to get the family pic done before i go to my second family...”

time doesn’t seem to stop like they do in the movies. it happens all too fast, in fact - jimin’s voice fading into the background, the countdown of the person taking the picture of the group of graduates jungkook’s in starting from three, two, one! and a girl with the prettiest curls that seem to bounce as she turns around and stick her tongue into jungkook’s mouth.

it must have been your uncanny silence that draws the attention of the two boys and a ‘oh shit...’ from one of them - you’re not sure who even though taehyung and jimin has two distinctly sounding voice.

all you’re sure of is the involuntary movements of your feet as they carry you away from the scene. your eyes are dry but that’s probably only because your brain hasn’t registered what exactly happened though deep down, you’re perfectly aware of the fact that those daily calls, the spams of good mornings and randomly sending each other selfies were nothing more than exchanges between two people who were onlu ever connected through a childhood bond that got translated into best friendship just because there was no other name for knowing someone for so long even though you probably stopped being friends first year of college.

“___! wait!” someone calls for you and you wish it so badly to be jungkook but you know better than to expect for the impossible. a modern day fairy tale.

“hey, don’t cry. jungkook’s a fucking dick,” the tall stature that finally caught up to you and trapped you in his arms, whispers. gentle, understanding and pitiful.

it’s not just the comforting warmth, it’s also the hand that’s rubbing your back that you know is probably jimin’s that makes you break out into your first sob. whilst the day isn’t exactly free of tears, those who did shed them did it out of gratitude and a sort of ‘i did it’ kind of relief but not you.

today, your cheeks are marred by the excruciating pain of a heartbreak. you might as well tear your chest open, take out the beating organ and hand it over to jungkook so he could crush them with his own two hands.

maybe it’d hurt less.

somewhere amidst your fit, you choke on your laughter as you catch the two bickering.

“that’s not how you comfort a crying lady, taehyung, what the fuck?” jimin doesn’t hold back with his colorful words.

“what? what did i do?” the taller man sounds all the more confused but still pass you on to the shorter one like a gift basket when a hand pulls you into another pair of arms.

a hand patting your head as jimin murmurs, “there, there, you’re going to be okay, sweetie,” he hugs you just a tad bit tighter as though to say i promise, “you’re young, you’re beautiful and you just graduated with honors. in five years you won’t even remember your little crush for jungcockhead.”

you would have laughed if not for the shadow in your periphery stopping dead in its trek just a few feet away from you and close enough to hear every word jimin uttered in his attempt to placate your rising desire to flee the scene.

“what?” even a simple syllable is enough to tell you who the voice belongs to. perhaps it’s because you’ve heard it in real life and on the phone countless times and countless more during the span where he worked sporadic shifts and you were gardening and getting scratched by your grandmother’s cat that you tried relentlessly to befriend.

“nothing, jungkook.” you wish it was you who said it but it’s jimin who’s hugging you tighter like a mother comforting their heartbroken child, “why don’t you go back to your girlfriend and stick your face where it’s actually wanted?”

almost as though physically slapped in the face.

with a brick.

jungkook’s shoulder line jolts as he flinches, brows knitting together as you can almost see the rewind of the moment your heart gets split in two. she has the prettiest, softest tanned complexion, luscious curls and body that fits the definition of a glowed-up.

he takes one step forward but stops when you shrink into jimin’s arms, almost as though seeking protection. but it takes everything in you not to run to him and make up an excuse about feeling hot and stuffy and that being the reason you left, when the crestfallen expression mars his otherwise ever-smiling features.

“that wasn’t what you thought it was-” you could almost swear he chokes at the end of his words but the pause is too short to tell, “i left her as soon as i saw you running off.”

“oh my god, cut the bullshit! this isn’t the first time and this won’t be the last. don’t talk to ___, don’t even look at her, douchebag,” the rumble of jimin’s voice vibrates against you as he pokes taehyung in the rib, making the boy cry out in pain.

the assaulted man has half a mind to ask for further instructions when he turns to you and jimin but decides against it, squaring up his shoulders and placing a warning hand, “just leave, man. ___ clearly doesn’t wanna talk to you right now.”

“ever.” jimin half-shouts.

those deep brown eyes search for yours as though holding on the last strand of what you call best friendship - hoping, wishing that it isn’t true. but as soon as they find your puffy eyes, you throw your gaze to the ground, finding the crack in the asphalt in a better state than your heart.

you can only imagine jungkook’s face falling at your refusal to affirm the strength of years’ worth of friendship. because the fact of the matter is, you’re not so sure if you want to keep pretending to be oblivious as he wraps his arms around another person and kiss them like he means it.

“___,” the bed dips as you feel the weight of the blanket get yanked off you. seulgi’s sweet peaches perfume filling your senses, “get up, it’s been days since you had an actual meal.”

“i’m not hungry,” you grumble against the pillow just as your stomach starts making the most monstrous sound ever existed in history of mankind.

“yeah right,” she scoffs but her hand on your arm is warm and soothing, “come on, please eat something - i’m saying ‘please’ here and you know i never say ‘please’. people say ‘please’ to me.”

you can’t help but laugh at that. seulgi’s never truly begged anyone for anything in her entire life. she would have asked once and left you be until you were done moping around over jungkook getting with jihyo. it was after you did get over your first heartbreak, did she get you ice cream and you’d spent the night in her room with fairy lights and forts, watching the notebook.

“don’t let a boy hurt you like that again, ___, promise me.” she held up a pinky, and yours felt like a ton of weight just dropped over you.

in the end, you hooked your pink with hers and made a promise of sisterhood.

but she hadn’t been there when you needed your off days in college when rumors started spreading about jungkook and a different girl every week.

the wounds to your ever bleeding heart don’t heal. but you got used to picking yourself up and you got better at that with that one class you failed, that one presentation you blew, the humiliating mistake you made in front of your supervisor and every time after that. seulgi had her own ways to deal with problems and you had yours - or maybe patching yourself up after a fuck up was more of your forte.

who knows?

“what’s for dinner?”

“really?” at your inquiry, the face you thought would light up like a christmas tree - doesn’t. if anything, she bites her bottom lip just like you just caught her red-handed for doing something you probably won’t like.

“what?” you ask plainly, at this point, you won’t even be surprised if she said the sky is falling.

it’s not.

but her next words are far more foreboding than the end of the world, “look, jungkook came over like he always did everyday since that day and today i wanted him to stop coming for good so i told him if you at least have the energy to get some food, i’d let him see you,” her eyes glimmer with a sort of remorse that you can’t even hold her against.

“then can’t you tell him i still don’t wanna eat?” is what you say, completely unperturbed or rather not registering the fact that your best friend whom you’ve been in love with for as long as you can remember is in your sister’s living room because he probably heard about your hunger strike.

but the only problem is, he’s not in the living room-

“he’s right outside the room. i told him he can stand there and see for himself how bad he fucked you over so he’ll feel bad enough to leave you alone.” she says in a hurried whisper, eyes glancing to the half-agape door every second.

a spark lights up inside you, like smolders blown by wind and flares into flames, “seriously? you couldn’t talk to me first about it?”

her eyebrows furrow as her mouth opens and closes for a moment before she confesses, “...i didn’t think you’d say yes to lunch.”

“whatever just-” you tear your gaze away from your sister’s involuntary puppy eyes just so you wouldn’t end up clawing them out yourself, “...just go, seulgi.”

for the longest yet briefest moment, the only thing you can hear in the room is your steady breathing. the flame still burns but it doesn’t flare into a raging fireball. and you know full well it probably isn’t easy for jungkook to pass to through the door after having heard how you reacted when you found out he’s just outside.

when he does, he doesn’t even hide the way his doe eyes shine with something you can’t pinpoint as he takes you in. all of you. with your mused, oily hair and three day’s worth of hoodie and puffed eyes.

“hey,” he murmurs ever so softly, the bed dipping where seulgi sat.

you echo the same greeting back but with a hoarser voice compared to his velvet one.

“so, what do you want for dinner?” he begins, cautious eyes finding yours.

“i don’t want it anymore,” is all you say as you shrug casually.

“oh.” he sounds fragile. nothing at all like the self-assured jeon jungkook you’ve come to know.

silence fills the room like a big, blue elephant. seconds stretch on into minutes and you find yourself leaning against the headboard, drawing invisible patterns over the sheets while jungkook-

you don’t know what he’s doing. he could be fiddling with his fingers like how 10-year-old him would whenever you met at your favorite spot after a fight. but you’re both no where near 10 and if there’s any traces of the boy you once called your best friend, it’s probably only his appearance that’s never really changed.

either way, you don’t dare to even steal a glance his way.

“i like you too.”

the words hit the air like a drop of water that vaporized faster than what science dictates it too. you almost thought you were hearing things if not for the way he looks at you. as though waiting for something. anything.

“i...” you trail off before shaking your head, almost as though coming to your senses, “i can’t do this.”

jungkook laughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his head, “yeah, i understand - i’m sorry i- i just wanted to make sure you’re fine and then i got carried away- i should leave.”

but before he takes a step towards the door, you call for him, “jungkook, wait.”

“i’m leaving for japan in two days,” you finally let the cat out of the bag.

“what?” comes out a second later - you don’t dare to look up from your hands to see what kind of emotion he’s making.

but he at least deserves an explanation, “for the longest time, i feel fucked up because i get so jealous of the girls that dated you...” taking a deep breath, you continue, “but i know it’s because i think i’m not enough-”

“you are - you’re more than enough,” the interjection is what makes you look up involuntarily, if not to confirm it yourself - the knitted eyebrows and heartbroken gaze proves it and then the sinking realization settles in, “but you don’t believe me.”

you shake your head, a bitter smile on your lips, “i’m not enough for me and that’s something i have to work with.”

“by running away?” his voice rises to the ceiling, confusion and frustration pooling in his eyes.

“by finding myself,” you correct, “you know like how people go to a different country and come back a different person except i’m hoping to find that person.”

“in japan,” he sounds like he’s a word away from hooking you up with a specialist - not that you haven’t thought of one but-

you laugh and he looks at you like he’s stuck in the middle of a never ending maze, “my mom’s planning to visit my aunt in japan and since i’m officially unemployed i guess, i’m tagging along.”

“oh,” his shoulder line sags as he sighs in relief, “so like a vacation.”

it tenses back up when you say, “i might look for a job there.”

“you’re permanently moving to japan?” jungkook’s body seems to be here but his conscience seems to have flown out - probably to japan.

you want to laugh but it doesn’t seem like a proper setting for it. especially when you’re confessing to your crush that you like him but also subtly admitting that he’s partly the reason you’re leaving the life you know for a new one. and you might not even do it willingly.

“i might find a job with a branch company in korea - work there for a year and then transfer here,” you shrug, “i don’t know.”

“i-is this because-” he starts but you shake your head.

“yes and no?” you say, “none of this is your fault but i’m projecting my frustrations onto you and this isn’t healthy... i need- i need to go away for awhile and figure myself out.”

and that’s how jeon jungkook finally comes to the realization that nothing’s been the same. you haven’t been the best friend you prided yourself to be for a long time and that best friend completely disappeared in second year of college after he started spending nights at parties and only lunches with you. until eventually, you’re stuck in a habit - a cycle that you can’t break from until something dramatic or life changing happens.

and so it goes, he sees you off at the airport with taehyung and jimin. unsure of whether they were still friends after they’d deliberately stopped him from running after you on your graduation day, they were the first to approach him. they understood that it’d only be worse if he chased after you but they didn’t hate him - dislike him at times when - as they called it - he was so damn clueless, yes but they didn’t hate him. and that was a relief.

nothing major changed. he moved in with taehyung and jimin and even got a job at the same company as jimin. you went off radar but still kept in contact every once in awhile - it was like that time jimin went to that private island except you had all the reception you needed, just not the time to text as much as you used to.

job hunting was tough and he understood the competition. when you got a job, you were plagued with a newbie’s role, having to do overtimes to finish up work that was piling before they gave you that position.

then one year turned to two and two years turned to three. jungkook became a manager while jimin took up the position as a secretary in their rival company - it’s funny because everyone at the office would shit-talk him and they would make fun of those people as they drink into the night.

jungkook lost contact with most of his party friends - they were great with hooking him up with a potential client but besides that, he was basically living the workaholic life with his two apartment mates as his only source of social interaction outside of work.

from meetings to gatherings to meetings and then private dinners with clients. the cycle goes on until that one evening where arrives at an invites-only event.

“jungkook, come here,” the director gestures him over and because there’s a server blocking his view, he only notices the girl standing in front of his superior, when he’s finally by his side.

“...a hardworker - every project he’s ever handled hits the internet like a boom!” the director was saying.

“ah jungkook,” the man taps him on his shoulder but he can barely feel it when his eyes are trained on you, stunning in that deep toned dress and new hairstyle, “meet ___, you guys will be working on the twin tower project together.”

“so you’re back for good?” he asks when you’re finally alone, lingering at the balcony and away from your superior’s eyes.

“not quite - i still have to fly to japan every week,” you shrug casually.

“oh,” he nods.

“you look great by the way,” he adds a moment later, scuffing his foot against the floor.

you can’t help but giggle at how boyish he is, even at the age of 25, he still acts like a child, “thanks - you don’t look half bad yourself.”

he echoes a “thanks” as well before throwing his gaze over the magnificient view of the cityscape. artificial lights from the buildings appear like stagnant fireflies. it’s sad that they’re the reason you can’t see stars anymore.

but fate is too cruel.

because hoseok, your partner is calling you over - a couple of middle aged people standing next to him, smiling that mechanical smile that isn’t any different from your business smile.

“i gotta go,” you sigh but shoot him one last melancholy smile, “i’ll see you this monday?”

“yeah, see you this monday.” jungkook smiles a smile that says he’s not so sure where you stand. colleagues. ex-best friends. acquaintances?

with a wave goodbye, he watches as you strut to the couple, transforming into a woman so sure of every gesture, even a smile and a throw of your head back as you laugh. everything you do, every movement you make is mesmerizing.

and he knows he’s not the only one who thinks so as he watches your partner gaze at you with eyes that doesn’t seem to see anyone else but you. laughs at something you say as if he’s completely enchanted.

jungkook turns around, hand propped on the railing as he takes a sip of the wine he’s been holding. without realizing it, a smile slips onto his face, he makes a mental note to check your company’s dating policy.

most forbid office romances anyway.

note. i’ve had this in the draft for forever! and thought i was never gonna finish this but i somehow got a burst of inspiration yesterday and here we are! hope yall enjoyed!

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #bts fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts au #jungkook au #bts fluff #excerpt from a fic i'll never write

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searching-for-arcadia · 3 years

Photo

Sea-Hearts by Margo Lanagan & Vita Nostra by Maryna and Serhiy Dyachenko

torchwood fanfic asks

9. AUs? what kind?

Edits aren’t quite responsive since they’re not quite AUs that I’d say I gravitate towards, but more AUs I’d love to see people’s take on (I’ll actually answer the question below).

First, Gwen as selkie (and not the Torchwood selkie which seems to be an opposite selkie) isn’t something I’ve seen done (though if you know of a fic that has done this, please send it my way!). There is something about the soulfulness of her eyes that says selkie to me. A little snippet of something for flavor:

Gwen loved Rhys. He was a much kinder man than the man whole stole her from the sea. He loved her because he loved her, not because he owned her. That was more than many mortal men could boast.

Second, I would love to see a Torchwood/Vita Nostra fusion where Tosh was recruited to the Institute of Special Technologies and goes through the terrifying transformation and education we witness in the novel, but ultimately rejects her place and her power. She retains her brilliance but is always a little afraid from that point on of what she is capable of of. A little snippet of flavor:

She built the sonic modulator with the same sick feeling in her stomach that she had carried with her when she first joined the Institute of Special Technologies. She remembered when she sleep deprivation was driving her to madness and incoherence; she remembered when her studies suffered and her mother was in a near fatal automobile accident. A reminder, her mentor had said, and an incentive to study harder. She remembered the horrible accidents that befell all her classmate’s family members (broken bones, heart attacks, just-too-coincidental deaths); remembered that they were all taken hostage, their families held as ransom or collateral, until the lessons overtook their senses and they fell into the heady trap of being powerful. She was careful, while building the sonic modulator, to not become too interested, to not let her sense of capability outstrip her sense of fear. She would not forget how to be human twice.

And to actually answer the questions. YES, I love AUs. Excluding my already professed love of Chosen One!Ianto and my continual insistence that everybody, Suzie included, should live, here are some of my favorite AUs (in general, I love things that decrease the stakes for everyone involved because these days I just want to be coddled and comforted):

1. Time Lord Tosh or Ianto: I just think Time Lord Tosh makes a whole lot of sense and that she would make a fantastic companion to the Doctor (regardless of whether she’s human or a Time Lord, so that’s another AU for you, Companion!Tosh). And of course, I love the different ways that people tackle Ianto and Jack after Ianto regains his Time Lord senses (Does he get over it by sheer force of will/love? Does Jack’s fixedness not bother him at all? Does he choose to live as a human because he can’t bear to be with Jack as a Time Lord and he also can’t bear to be without him?).

2. The Team in Boeshane: I love the idea of the whole team being taken by the Rift and dropped off in Boeshane, either with or without Jack and while past-Jack is there or not. I just love Jack’s mother taking members of the team in.

3. Harry Potter AUs: I think that it’s our prerogative to pry this universe out of J.K. Rowling’s hands, take the interesting bits, and then tell better stories in it. I headcanon Ianto as a Slytherin, Tosh as a Ravenclaw, Gwen as a Gryffindor, Owen as a Hufflepuff, and Jack as a Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, or Slytherin (depending on what happened to his family life prior to his sorting; if there are no incidents, Hufflepuff; if there was an incident with Gray, but his parent(s) didn’t reject him, Gryffindor; if there was an incident with Gray and he has a fraught or non-existent relationship with his parent(s), Slytherin).

4. Daemons AUs: I especially love Daemon AUs that keep the touching taboo and think about how the existence of daemons would impact modern life. I think that the existence of daemons also has interesting ramifications for Suzie and Ianto. Does Suzie persist with the glove even though it can’t bring back a person’s daemon? I think you could characterize her either way. Does Lisa retain her daemon despite her partial conversion? I tend to think so and that the persistence of her daemon is the reason why Ianto doesn’t give up; when her daemon disappears is when he knows its over even if he can’t accept it yet. I don’t have a lot of defined thoughts about the daemons I’d give the team except that usually, I think of Suzie with a bird, Ianto with a scavenger, and Gwen with a canine. Jack, Tosh, and Owen are more variable in my head. I would also love to see broader HDM AUs that take more of the universe than just the existence of daemons (give me witches and the science of dust).

5. Coffee Shop AUs: Kinda. I’ve never really been particularly into Coffee Shop AUs specifically, though I do love them in the general way that I love fluffy Torchwood-doesn’t-exist AUs (Jack is a traveling artist and Ianto his muse, Gwen is a legitimate psychic who consults with law enforcement, Rhys and Ianto run a restaurant together, Owen as the A&E doctor who treats Tosh after a welding accident, Jack is a sci-fi author and Ianto writes mysteries; the possibilities are endless!), but now I’m a bit of a coffee snob (this happened independent of Torchwood; I developed my coffee habit and snobbery years after watching Torchwood) and know people who roast coffee, so I just want to see more coffee geekery. I do wonder how blasphemous it would be to update Ianto’s coffee tastes to be more in line with third wave coffee roasting preferences/innovations (which was certainly alive and well in the 2000s, especially in certain cities, but hadn’t seemed to hit Cardiff yet).

6. Role Reversal AUs: For when I feel like keeping the stakes the same, I love AUs that put Ianto in charge of Torchwood Three by whatever twist of fate you’d like with Jack working under him. Sometimes he’s immortal (so he takes on Jack’s backstory minus the coming from the future bit), sometimes he’s not (he gets put into power before or after Canary Wharf, though after seems most likely). Sometimes Jack grew up on Earth (either because his entire backstory has been changed or he was taken by the Rift as a child) and sometimes he didn’t (he can still be immortal or he can be a stranded Time Agent/Time Agent in hiding).

7. Dogs AU: Honestly I can’t explain myself. It’s completely silly and I love it. I don’t know if I’ve seen one of these in the Torchwood fandom, but AU where the whole cast are dogs and they meet at a dog park or their humans are neighbors. Jack is a retired military dog. Ianto spent some time as a street dog, was rescued, then there was some incident that put him back on the street, before being adopted (possible by Jack’s human(s)). Gwen is a former police dog that was pulled to join an experimental medical program and she now spends her days sniffing out neurodegenerative diseases. Owen is a therapy dog; his humans don’t get it because he hates strangers, but it’s like he’s a different dog around those in need. Tosh is a scarily intelligent dog who is part of the cohort of animals that is being taught how to communicate using a speech board.

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athicfa · 3 years

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Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #112 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #113 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #115 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #116 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #117 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #119 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #123

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #112

guys what the fuck did I just walk into with this cover

Christmas special!

people confusing Felicia for the Black Widow??? okay then AS IF you petty crooks are important enough to get Nat’s attention

Felicia goes hero again and stops a robbery, decided to take the mink coats they were stealing for herself, but then has another change of heart and gives them to homeless ladies to warm themselves. Your honor, I love her.

Peter has lost his fucking mind apparently. Just sitting in his apartment alone on Christmas, only has two cans of *classic* coke in his fridge, props the black suit up in a chair across from him and talks to it like it’s his only friend. Dear God Peter what’s happened to you.

He’s sleeping with a teddy bear MJ gave him though that’s hella cute.

OH MY GOD THE FAN LETTERS AGAIN. “It stinks. Peter David can’t write a script-” and then the reply from the editors is basically a quasi-polite way of saying “yeah what the fuck is up David?? fix your shit” LMAO WHAT

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #113

ANYONE WHO PUTS THEIR HANDS ON AUNT MAY NEEDS TO MEET ME BEHIND THE DENNY’S AT 3:00 WEDNESDAY I’M SICK OF PEOPLE BEING MEAN TO HER

Now people are confusing Felicia for Silver Sable which is somewhat more reasonable. She was on hiatus for a year so people don’t exactly know the Black Cat is back in action to be fair.

“Stunning objects don’t just drop down from on high” to which Felicia says “sometimes we do” as she jumps from the skylight so yeah she’s back to her original chaotically bastardish self and I’m glad.

she’s kicking ass again too it’s about damn time

Aunt May is so precious. A true blessing to the world.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #115

Felicia’s just vibin’. Living her best life. Becoming a modern day Robin Hood. We love to see it.

In all seriousness, it’s truly a great turnaround for her character. She feels closer to her original characterization before they made her an Awful Bastard out of nowhere for the sake of drama. Even if she’s just showing up in one full-page montage of her escapades per issue at this point (this time it’s her workout regimen), it’s a lot better than what they were feeding us across multiple pages. I’ll take these little character building short appearances over multi-page ooc nonsense any day.

Peter’s having a streak of Bad Luck now and she hasn’t even interacted with him again, she’s just admiring him from afar but even that’s not safe apparently. My poor baby :(

OH MY GOD

they haven’t even ran into each other but he thinks she’s somehow doing this on purpose

“oh my stars, after all this time, he’s still gorgeous” and “I’m sure he rarely thinks about me” meanwhile he thinks she’s trying to hurt him somehow and is going to Doctor Strange to see if she’s causing his bad luck or not oh no I guess I came here to hurt today

“It looks like she hexed me somehow, permanently, to get back at me. I don’t owe her anything. Do what you have to. She can look out for herself.” -Peter. Because Strange says that reversing the hex on him could affect the source of the bad luck in an unpredictable way. And Felicia’s right in the middle of her most dangerous heist to date at the moment. This is making me anxious, and what Peter said was heart-wrenching.

It completely reverses it to where FELICIA is having the bad luck now and this villain dude is now destroying her, meanwhile Peter is monologuing about how upset he is that she cursed him on purpose and that he’s pissed because she could have gotten her killed, meanwhile he’s just done that exact thing to her and on his end it’s on purpose :’)

Peter’s so upset that he asks if Strange can erase Felicia’s memories of him. Strange refuses and tells him to go talk it out with her because he’s being too “hard-hearted”.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #116

“102 Uses for a Dead Cat” I hate that title so much sdflkj

OOF she’s got a broken nose

Oh she’s definitely concussed too. She’s half conscious mumbling about Peter while this big beefy villain dude talks about how he just broke her nose and how he’s secretly a gentle guy and blah blah whatever idk this guy is weird

Oh no that was gross. Dude tries to take advantage of her while she’s dazed from her obvious concussion, so she kicks the shit out of everyone in the room, as she should.

“Bet you weren’t expecting to sing soprano” YES FUCK EM UP FE FE

Feral Felicia is Best Felicia

Peter’s mulling over whether he should go see her or not because he thinks they’re just gonna argue. Which is fair because he just argued with Aunt May and MJ so poor dude can’t take much more of that today.

She’s patching up at home and Peter shows up. She has NO issue with acknowledging Peter AS Peter, and does so even though he came to her as Spiderman, so hopefully that means the writers have acknowledged how stupid that whole debacle was.

She’s visibly hurt from her fight, broken nose and all, and he wants to know what happened but she keeps dodging the subject. Now he’s fessing up that he had Strange reverse her bad luck powers, she connects the dots in her head that he’s the reason she got trashed by those goons, and she’s PISSED. He wants to know what happened to her so he can help her but she won’t tell him, she’s too upset.

Felicia’s neighbors hear them arguing and they’re just like “ugh HER again” lmfao

“I’ll turn up the radio. I’ll show her what suffering really is.” GOD HER NEIGHBORS KILL ME

she tells him and HE ACCUSES HER OF LYING HOLY FUCK

It’s just because she’s raging at him though and the poor dude is obviously overloaded because this is the third person who was / is close to him that he’s fought with today. So no it’s not right of him to do that but dude I get it.

He leaves. He’s gone for a bit. Felicia’s crying because everything’s going wrong in her life, and just when she thinks it can’t get any worse, Sabretooth shows up and says he’s gonna kill her. Felicia lures him closer so she can ambush him with traps and shit hidden in her aparment. But right before he gets to her, in comes Spidey to the rescue! So wait, did he hang outside her apartment this whole time, or did he leave and come back?

They’re still arguing though because Felicia doesn’t know how to say thank you and firmly believes she could have handled that herself. Honestly, I love her to death, but with her luck powers turned against her, I doubt she could.

Good Guy Peter taking Sabretooth to the hospital because he ripped his own face off

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #117

so Felicia’s about to fight Doctor Strange? Yeah, THAT’S gonna go well.

this storyline has gotten so fucking juicy I love it

no Black Cat suit this time we fight wizards in our street clothes and protective masks to guard our broken noses

she’s breaking in through the window upstairs and figuring out how to bypass the winds just like in my headcanon about her visiting Bats I feel validated skljdf

she can see his astral form and apparently that’s a big deal to Strange (I don’t understand the significance but okay I’ll take it lol)

no fighting he wants to help her but she’s fussy and leaves. She’s having a bit of an existential crisis on the way home, until she figures out that she’s under attack by Foreigner himself, since all of his henchmen and hired assassins failed to take her out. He takes her down pretty quickly. She’s in no state to fight, and he’s a tough foe anyway.

they diagrammed Felicia doing an entire taekwondo 360 spin kick and I greatly appreciate that

he spared her but in return he wants her to help take down spiderman and she agrees so it’s time to cry some more

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #119

MJ complimenting Felicia’s boobs is not what I expected but here we are

I’m not sure how I feel about Felicia becoming a villain. I still don’t think she would EVER actively seek to hurt Peter, even if she’s indebted to this dude for sparing her life and calling off his assassins. But I’m interested to see how this plays out.

Sabretooth is back and hunting Peter and Felicia hasn’t forgotten that he tried to kill her either so she’s instantly out to throw hands with this dude, and she knows Peter’s watching it happen too. So is she actually going to try and hurt Peter later or...?

LMAO POOR SABRETOOTH JUST GOT HIS FACE FIXED AND FIRST THING SHE DID WAS RIP IT UP AGAIN SHE’S BRUTAL

She’s saving his life but he can’t sit by and watch her almost get killed for him AGAIN so of course Peter’s rushing to change into his suit and go help her.

SHE’S GONE FERAL AGAIN. LITERALLY. SHE SCREAMED AND BASHED HIS SKULL INTO THE PAVEMENT. WHAT A LADY.

He fucked up her leg but that’s nothing compared to what she just did to his face so fair game. Peter got there in time to see the last of it. She sees him and winks. That’s it omfg.

She’s hooking up with the foreigner now???? Press X to Doubt.

No but seriously everything feels in character until you realize it’s a ruse to lure Peter in to a sense of security around her again which is so weird. I feel like we’re veering off into ooc territory again which is sad because I was liking everything in this storyline up until this point.

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #123

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENINGGGGGGGGGGGG

First page is Blaze saying that Foreigner hired him to take out both Peter AND Felicia???? But I thought Felicia was on Foreigner’s side now???? And we open with Peter saving unconscious Felicia from a fire?????? I AM CONFUSION

Felicia tearing Keating to shreds for trashing Peter which is great

I hate this suit and I hate this hair it can stay in the trash

her apartment blew up time to hang out with Peter

“We can’t sneak into my apartment while these girls are out here sunbathing” says Peter so Felicia proceeds to scream at the girls and scare them away. Peak Chaotic Bastard Felicia right now.

they’re making Felicia and MJ take digs at each other again because we can’t have nice things

she’s brought Peter to Foreigner now? Willingly? Unintentionally? IDK what’s happening

IS SHE OR IS SHE NOT WORKING WITH FOREIGNER WHAT IS HAPPENING

THEY’RE SHOOTING AT HER TOO IS THIS AN ELABORATE PLOY BECAUSE IT SEEMS SINCERE WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

oh she’s got her claws now that’s neat

WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING

okay I’m done for now this is getting too contrived

#[comic commentary]#it started so well #got super juicy #and then completely derailed #sad because I was really enjoying the new storyline with Peter and Felicia accidentally ruining everything for each other #oh well at least they've given me a ton of Feral Bastard Felicia Hardy moments

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slashertalks · 4 years

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I think the most enjoyable thing to me about film review is how fluid it is. Not only is the medium, by nature, ever-changing, but with personal experience comes a shift in opinion that can change perspectives so much it requires a completely new piece. Though this work is not coming out of so drastic a change, it is coming out of a desire to rectify something put forward in my previous SAW review. Similarly, it is a statement of something core to my beliefs with all my reviews: that “bad” films are not always truly bad. Often, they’re quite enjoyable.

Now, I should put forward my frame of reference for this, in the form of two facts. The first: my current hyperfixation is SAW. The second: the only two SAW films I’ve seen are the original, and SAW 3D. Do with this information what you will, but I think it’s important to acknowledge that what I’m writing comes from a place of intense personal passion, and simultaneously intense disinterest. See, when I say SAW, I mean specifically Doctor Lawrence Gordon and Adam Faulkner-Stanheight. To a lesser extent, I am also fixated on the production, but that’s relatively common for me. The technical, visual aspects of a film are often just as important to my enjoyment of it as anything else— I’m more inclined to enjoy a film with physical effects and mechanics, both of which SAW has plenty.

This piece is serving as both an expansion on my original short blurb on SAW, and an acknowledgement that SAW 3D is not, as I put it, the horror equivalent of “a daytime soap opera.” It is, quite simply, a fun movie.

Do I have any background in any of the characters beyond Dr. Gordon himself? Not in the slightest— I’m coming into this movie with no expectations for how Hoffman or Jill Tuck should behave. This is, perhaps, a flaw of my own attention span. I tend to jump about through franchises: for years, I’d only seen the first and third Friday the 13th movies. I still haven’t seen the second or sixth Nightmare on Elm Street. My viewing history is filled with maybe somedays, films I’m certain I’d enjoy, most often part of franchises I know I like, but I just don’t have the motivation to sit down and watch them. Saw 2-6 and Jigsaw are part of this category.

What does that make SAW 3D, then? Lacking background in characters beyond Lawrence, whose appearance is unfortunately limited, what do I get from what was supposed to be the close of the franchise?

Not much, quite honestly.

SAW 3D is not a film rich in much. Beyond a trap made of an entire building which feels a little too poetic for Hoffman to have made (judging, again, by my admittedly-limited knowledge of the character), and an enjoyably gruesome trap made for a group of neo-nazis (I SQUIRMED watching this one!!!! SQUIRMED!!!! I can’t remember the last time I had to look away from a movie!!!!!! Even on a second viewing, I had to close my eyes at this part! Can you tell how exciting that is?), SAW 3D feels rather slapped together. I’ve heard as well that the director had no desire to actually direct the film, which makes things difficult.

What does a film do when saddled with an unwilling director? Its best, of course, and SAW 3D is still a valiant enough effort. Is it a masterpiece? Not by any stretch of the word, but it’s fun. This here is why horror is one of my favorite genres! SAW is a masterpiece of modern horror, a reflection of the magic of A Texas Chain Saw Massacre! A rarity! A gem! I couldn’t be more enthusiastic about this film. SAW even surpasses Texas Chain Saw in one area: the actors, director, and staff had fun making this movie! I will always sing praise for Texas Chain Saw; it is the film I consider the penultimate horror movie, unsurpassable in its legacy. It captured a sort of magic in how gut-wrenchingly horrific it is with such minimal blood: it’s all psychological.

As previously said, I feel that SAW captures that same magic. The film has minimal gore, a byproduct of its limited budget, but is remembered as much more brutal than it actually is— it became the springboard for a franchise absolutely drenched in disgusting moments. SAW 3D’s neo-nazi trap is chief among them, for me (that back glue? good GOD man....). Yet, where the cast of Texas Chain Saw have many painful, sweaty, exhausting moments to remember (the actor who played Nubbins was a veteran and has stated that his time working on Texas Chain Saw was worse than his time as a soldier), the cast of the original SAW had a blast, proven by an audio commentary filled with James Wan, Leigh Whannell, and Cary Elwes all poking fun at each other (and a ridiculously goofy Marlon Brando impersonation from Mr. Elwes — I genuinely can’t recommend the commentary enough).

Even separated completely from my personal passion for the film, it’s an amazing feat for me to sit here and say to you all that a film has, in one instance, surpassed for me my pinnacle of horror. How often does that happen?

Yet, I still haven’t completed my thoughts on SAW 3D. Circling back, I have to laugh. I’ve unintentionally mirrored my own Texas Chain Saw viewing pattern with my SAW viewings: for quite a long time, I’d only seen Texas Chain Saw and TCM: The Next Generation. If you’ve been here long enough, you’ve seen me mention TNG time and time again. To recap, for those of you who may be seeing my writing for the first time: it’s a genuinely HORRIBLE film. It is, however, a favorite of mine— enough so that I own it on DVD, now. TNG is a purposefully bad film, created with the intent of antagonizing the viewer and calling to attention our pattern of complacent viewership. In my original piece on TNG, I state that “my problem with modern horror is that it’s loud, the violence is gratuitous and charmless ... because supposedly that’s what a Modern Viewer [sic] wants. TCM4 takes these things, grinds your nose into them, and says ‘fuck you, you want this? here'” (source). Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Next Generation defies the conventions of modern horror in a deeply obnoxious, yet thought-provoking way. SAW 3D... does not.

SAW 3D’s greatest problem is, perhaps, that it’s exactly what audiences demand. Though I must admit the 3D is tasteful, and I’m grateful for that, the fact remains that the movie lacks innovation. While it doesn’t necessarily need to innovate as the close of a franchise, I ultimately think it’s ridiculous to have tried to close the franchise at all. As much as I hate the trend of reboots and remakes in the modern market, particularly modern horror, I must acknowledge that studios will milk a popular franchise for all that it’s worth, and sometimes more (I’m looking at you, SyFy Pumpkinhead sequels).

SAW 3D is the victim of an unfortunate situation. An over-saturation of SAW films in the market meant waning popularity, coupled with a fanbase still dedicated enough to want a finale, and a director lacking interest in the project (we all get tired of things, no matter how passionate we may be in the beginning— I hardly blame anyone for being tired of the franchise after the way they churned those films out). This isn’t to imply any of the films are bad, especially since I haven’t seen them! There is, however, an undeniable pattern to horror films which has persisted since the 70s and 80s: horror franchises tank after 3-5 films. Some are lucky, some less so, but the range of 3-5 films seems to be the golden one for horror. For a movie franchise, seven films is comfortably beyond that, and SAW 3D is misleadingly the seventh film.

For as much as I’ll happily sit down and watch it, SAW 3D puts nothing forward and asks nothing in return. A franchise that started with such a dramatic bang went out with a fizzle (or would have, if not for Jigsaw and the upcoming Spiral). It’s enjoyable to see the reverse bear trap used. It’s enjoyable to see Lawrence again, and to watch Hoffman lay on the ground and get poked (quoth the reviewer: get his ass, Larry). It’s... fun, but it’s cheap fun. It’s fast food horror. I’m happy to have it once in a while, but the late 2000s to 2010s were oversaturated with similar films. I want more from a movie meant to close out something as dramatically influential as SAW, something so enrapturing! Something which I can confidently say exceeds Texas Chain Saw Massacre in one important area! Damn it, the SAW franchise deserved better than this!

Maybe it’ll get it, with the Spiral reboot coming out. Maybe it won’t, who knows? I’m interested to see how Spiral plays out, and I have surprisingly high hopes. Between that and the Candyman remake, there are a lot of “re-” horror films I’m genuinely looking forward to. I haven’t felt this way about a horror re-anything since Evil Dead in 2013, and I’m feeling cautiously optimistic. We’ll see what the future holds — hopefully something that’ll be handled better than the original franchise was, though I don’t think Hollywood will ever learn to distinguish a dead horse from a live one. They’ll just keep beating and beating every horse in the stable. Perhaps I’m really a pessimist about all this, but again: personal experience. I’ll keep my cautious optimism up, and keep an eye out. I’m planning on watching Dying Breed and Cooties soon (two films with Leigh Whannell in them), so expect at least a short blurb on those two, and who knows? Maybe you’ll see something big about Spiral in the future. After all, if even a fizzle like SAW 3D can make me squirm even now, I think there’s a lot of hope to be had.

#saw 3d #saw the final chapter #saw

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angelofthequeers · 4 years

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Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 49

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Thank you SO much to everyone that’s stuck with this fic and read it to the very end!

@smolplantmum tagged as requested :)

Chapter 48 | AO3 link

“Selfish! Selfish!”

“Don’t you love me anymore, Adrien? Don’t you love your mother? All it takes is a wish –”

Cold, numb, frozen, not Adrien, not Chat Noir, no one, he’s no one, can’t feel, can’t see, can’t breathe, help, help, someone help –

Adrien gasps and jolts when the underground garden vanishes before his eyes and is instead replaced with a dark room, with unsynced breathing and warm weight all around him. Oh. Oh. Right. He’s not trapped underground with Hawkmoth and his dying zompire mother, her skin grey and black and wizened in the nightmare that haunts him every night. He’s in Marinette’s room, in the middle of a gigantic blanket pile on the floor, with Marinette snoring into his hair, Luka clinging to his left arm for dear life, and Kagami appearing to have an arm slung around Marinette’s waist, from what he can make out in the darkness.

He’s safe. He’s safe. But every time he closes his eyes, he can’t escape: from the comatose mother who couldn’t be revived due to the degree of Miraculous damage from the Peacock, whose funeral had apparently been earlier that week, though he remembers absolutely none of it; from the father who’d been sentenced to life in prison only yesterday in possibly the quickest trial ever held, the universe stripping him of both parents in the span of two weeks, and even Nathalie, who’s taken up damage control for the company but who’s never at the mansion anymore; from the chill, the freezing cold emptiness that plagues him when he least expects it, remnants of the akumatisation that he can’t remember. Have the last two weeks even happened? Or has he just been stuck in one, long, disjointed dream, to wake up before he becomes Phantom and to realise that he has to go through this all over again?

“Are you okay, Mr Adrien?” whispers a small voice. Something small snuggles into the crook of his neck, and Adrien’s breath catches in his chest until he reaches up to feel the softness of fairy wings and realises that it’s Nooroo.

“Sorry I woke you,” Adrien murmurs. Thank god none of the others had awoken, because they’ve been jerked awake enough times lately from his nightmares and there’s no sense in them being as miserably bone-tired as he’s been since Hawkmoth’s defeat.

“You didn’t wake me,” Nooroo says. “I can feel your emotional pain, so I’ve been staying awake to keep watch over you.”

“You don’t have to –”

“I do, Mr Adrien. I’m…I’m the reason why…”

Adrien shakes his head. Careful not to wake his partners, he untangles himself from Marinette and Luka’s grips and then tiptoes over to Marinette’s bed to climb out onto the balcony through the hatch. The Parisian night air is cool but not freezing, thank god, because staying in the cold for too long now makes Adrien’s heart race for reasons he can only assume are akuma-related.

“It wasn’t your fault, Nooroo,” Adrien finally says once Nooroo’s snuggling in under his shirt. There’s a flash of black and green out of the corner of his eye and then Plagg’s joining them, wriggling in on Adrien’s other side and purring against Adrien’s collar. Adrien slumps in his seat and hugs his knees to his chest, shivering when the cool breeze brushes over his bare feet.

“But it was my akuma, Mr Adrien. If it wasn’t for me –”

“Could you help it? Could you stop Father from transforming and akumatising people?”

“N-No…I tried to sway him, to push him away from evil, but he wouldn’t listen. And we kwamis are bound to obey our masters.”

“Then how is it your fault?” Adrien reaches up to cup Nooroo with one hand, then hugs Plagg with his other hand so that his own kwami isn’t left out. “You did all you could. He’s the one who chose to do that. He’s the one who went that far to get Mother back instead of moving on like a normal person. He’s…I feel like the worst son ever for even thinking this, but I’m glad he’s gone. I’m glad I don’t ever have to see him again. And then I remind myself that he was doing the best he could –”

“Nah,” Plagg says. “He really wasn’t. If he was, he wouldn’t’ve grabbed Nooroo in the first place. And you’re not a bad person for feeling that way, kid. He akumatised you. You can play pretend all you want, but you know how violating it is to be akumatised like that. The Butterfly’s meant to empower you, not do…that. And every other friend of yours can back you up, except for Pigtails and Guitar Boy, and Hawkdick didn’t go tormenting everyone else like he did with you.”

“Plagg –”

“Adrien. Kid.” Plagg wriggles free of Adrien’s hand so that he can float up in front of Adrien’s face, his bright green eyes holding Adrien’s gaze captive. “There’s nothing wrong with admitting you need help. You tried to deal with Lila’s touchy crap by yourself and look where that got you till you listened to your friends. I get your dad’s a massive pile of dicks and taught you that you can’t speak up when you don’t like something or when you need help, but he was wrong. You got those amazing partners down there and you got friends that’ll have your back through thick and thin. Lean on ‘em, kid. They’re there to take some of the weight.”

“But…” Adrien blinks rapidly to try and quell the stinging in his eyes, but it just causes the tears to well up faster. “If I admit I need help…Plagg, I won’t ever stop asking. What if it gets too much? What if they can’t handle me? I don’t think I could bear to lose them.”

“They won’t, Mr Adrien,” Nooroo says, still snuggling against Adrien. “I’ve felt their emotions since I bonded with Master Luka. They all care so much for you and all they want to do is help. And you’ll be there to help them in return when they need help. That’s what makes you partners and best friends.”

“Okay, but even if I said you were right – which you’re not – it’s, like, one in the morning,” Adrien says. “I can’t wake them up just for my angst.”

“Why not? You’d insist they wake you if the roles were reversed,” Plagg drawls. “And the fact that you’re calling trauma angst really says a lot about your daddy dearest.” Then he phases through the floor before Adrien can even begin to process that.

“Plagg!” Adrien hisses. “No – don’t you dare – I swear –” He groans and crosses his arms. “Stupid cat. Sometimes, I wish he’d just do what I tell him to do.”

“Trust me, you don’t want that at all,” Nooroo whispers. It only takes a moment of frowning down at the kwami for Adrien to realise the implications of what he’d just said.

“Oh, no, no!” Adrien reaches up to cup Nooroo again. “No, Nooroo, I don’t mean – it’s just something I say when I’m frustrated. God, I’d never…I could never treat him like that.”

“I know, Mr Adrien. I suppose I was just…reminded of unpleasant memories.”

“Adrien?” The hatch door creaks open and a mess of black hair pokes out, accompanied by bleary grey eyes, and holy crap, how can Marinette be so beautiful even when she’s half-asleep? “Plagg said you needed us?”

“I don’t need you,” Adrien snaps. “Wait, no, I didn’t mean – goddammit, Plagg!”

Marinette’s face softens and she holds out a hand. “Come back to bed, kitty,” she says. “Even if you don’t need us, it’s okay to want us.”

“But –”

“Adrien Agreste, if you’re trying to be a martyr, I give Marinette full permission to throw you off the balcony,” calls Kagami’s voice from inside the room. Adrien can’t hold back his snort at that, and that’s the opening that Marinette needs to climb half-out of her room and latch onto his ankle.

“I’ll stay here all night if I have to,” she says. A pair of arms rise out of the hatch to slip around her waist.

“Tell us when to start pulling,” Luka’s voice says. “We’ll get this cat on a leash one way or another.”

A burst of laughter splutters out of Adrien. He fails to hold back another one, then he’s devolving into such a hysterical fit of laughter that he slides out of his seat and ends up on his back on the cool concrete. Somewhere in the middle of his breakdown, his laughter turns to choked sobs, then the dam bursts and tears start streaming down his cheeks for the first time since before his mother had disappeared.

“Shh,” murmurs a voice, enveloping him in warmth, along with arms and skin and rustling clothes all around him. “It’s okay, Adrien. Let it out.”

He’s not sure which one of his partners had said that. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Not when they’re all there for him, each one supporting him all the same but bringing different warmth, different light waves, to him. Luka’s a vivid indigo, somehow both freezing and scorching at the same time, but not the kind of freezing that threatens to pitch him into unwanted flashbacks. Kagami’s a warm gold, fiery and brilliant but also subdued enough to dim herself when needed, to avoid overload. And Marinette’s a deep scarlet, hot and full of passion, throwing herself into life with everything she has no matter her guise, much more a crackling wildfire than a hurricane now that he knows her so much better. And maybe that’s why he loves them so much.

“We can’t thank you enough, Chloé,” Luka says once they’ve left Le Grand Paris to head back to Marinette’s place, with the Gorilla driving closely behind them. “I’m sure Adrien’s aunt is a wonderful person –”

“No need for pleasantries,” Chloé scoffs. “Wonderful person or not, no way is Adrichat going to live with that aunt and cousin of his. As if anyone’s going to let Chat Noir move to England, especially when I’m the daughter of the mayor of Paris…”

Honestly, most of what Chloé’s saying is going in one ear and out the other for Marinette. All she can focus on is the disturbing mix of both overwhelming emotion and suffocating numbness radiating off Adrien, easily detectable even without the empathetic abilities that Luka has or the little purple brooch that’s fastened to his jacket, disguised among other pins. But Marinette doesn’t have a clue what to do. How are you supposed to help someone who’s mourning their mother for a second time and whose father tortured them and now won’t ever see them again?

“The Gorilla’s cool,” Adrien says with a weak smile. “He knows I’ll be at Marinette’s or Luka’s or Kagami’s a lot of the time.”

“Or at my hotel,” Chloé supplies.

“Yeah, that. He doesn’t really care where I am so long as, well…he knows I’m okay, I guess. Physically,” Adrien adds just as Luka opens his mouth. “Thanks for helping him get custody, Chlo.”

“Hmph. Of course.” Chloé flips her ponytail. “I’ve known him for as long as I’ve known you. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to take care of you, Adrichat.”

“Sometimes, I wonder if Gorilla and Nathalie are the only two adults who ever cared about me.” Adrien’s shoulders slump. “Mother can’t have cared that much if – if she kept using the Peacock –”

“Hey.” Marinette stops and grabs Adrien’s hand. Kagami grabs his other hand and Luka, being the tallest, just wraps all three of them in a hug on the spot. There’s a little huff from Chloé, but she doesn’t complain about being left out like she might have just a few months ago.

“You don’t have to forgive her,” Luka says. “You don’t ever have to be okay with what happened.”

“Just so long as you don’t try to be a martyr and push us away,” Kagami says. “You’re so annoyingly self-sacrificing.”

“Yep, that’s Adrikins to a tee,” Chloé drawls. “Okay, like, can I have my best friend back?”

After a few moments, Marinette, Luka, and Kagami release Adrien to let him gulp in shuddering breaths. Chloé jumps onto his back, just like when she used to tackle and cling to him, except that this time, Adrien’s arms fly back to grab Chloé and hold her securely as she wraps her legs around his waist and clings to him like a monkey.

“Are you…giving her a piggyback?” Marinette splutters. Chloé flips her off.

“Buzz off, Dupain-Cheng. Adrien and I used to do this all the time as kids.”

“I just don’t think any of us imagined that Chloé Bourgeois would enjoy piggyback rides,” Kagami drawls. Chloé pokes her tongue out in response.

“If I never see my mother again and cop her “ridiculously childish” lectures, it’ll be too soon,” Chloé says. “Thank god she fucked off back to New York. I’ve never felt this light in years, and I didn’t even realise till now.”

“Last time I gave Chlo a piggyback was when we were nine,” Adrien says, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. Chloé shrieks and tightens her arms and legs so much that he chokes until she loosens her grip. “Then she sniffed at me and said that only babies did that, but she was a young lady.”

“Are you sure that you’re –” Marinette begins.

“The only reason I won’t deck you if you finish that sentence is because you’re Ladybug,” Chloé says without even looking at Marinette. Marinette’s pretty sure that it’s more to do with not wanting to upset Adrien by attempting to murder one of his girlfriends, but she manages to hold her tongue. Just.

“Please don’t kill my lady,” Adrien jokes, but the twitch of his lips is weak. Marinette and Chloé exchange looks, then come to an unspoken truce.

“Look, Adrikins, you’re not gonna be alone, alright?” Chloé says with an uncharacteristically soft look. “It’s not just me and your fucked-up father anymore.”

“You were nowhere near as bad as him,” Adrien says. Chloé just shrugs.

“Well, you’ve also got those three. And you’ve also got the Ladyblogger and DJ Tupac. I’m not gonna pretend I know how you’re feeling, but I do know what it’s like to have a parent put you through hell. As if I’d let you be alone.”

Adrien’s lips twitch and he stops outside the bakery and sets Chloé down so that he can hug her. “Thanks, Chlo,” he murmurs into her hair.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, enough with the mush!” Chloé protests, though she contradicts herself by moving her hands to his back to hug him. “I so don’t have time for this. Unlike you, I have places to be.”

“Really? Like where?” Kagami says. Chloé raises a perfect eyebrow.

“I…may be hanging out with Kubdel,” she mutters. Kagami tilts her head with an innocent smile.

“I didn’t hear you. Could you speak up?”

“I’m hanging out with Alix Kubdel because I’ve been thinking about her since the Sanguisuga thing, okay?” Chloé shrieks. With a huff, she crosses her arms and stalks off.

“Did I do something wrong?” Kagami says as Marinette holds the bakery doors open so that they can slip inside and head on upstairs. “I was only trying to tease her as a friend.”

“I guess it just wasn’t the right time?” Marinette says. Kagami sighs and looks down.

“I wish I could “read the room” better, as most people say. Now I have to go and apologise to her.”

“You can’t exactly help not being able to read the atmosphere sometimes.” Marinette waits until they’re in her bedroom to grab one of Kagami’s hands and squeeze, and Adrien takes her other arm and pulls her close. “What matters is that you realised you messed up and you need to apologise.”

“What Mari said.” Adrien leans down to kiss the top of Kagami’s head. Her cheeks pinken and she leans into his touch with a soft smile. “It did make me want to laugh, if that makes you feel better.”

“…A little, yes. We should –”

Whatever Kagami’s going to say is cut off by a colossal roar from outside that shakes the building and nearly sends them crashing to the floor. What the heck? An akuma? But that’s not possible! Luka and Nooroo are right here!

“It’s…a lava monster?” Luka says once all four of them have scrambled up onto Marinette’s balcony and are leaning over the railing to find the source of the sound a few streets away. “But how? I haven’t even tried to create any champions!”

“Oh.” Nooroo’s wings droop as he’s joined by Tikki, Plagg, and Longg. “It’s not an akuma. It’s a sentimonster.”

Marinette’s mouth dries until it’s more arid than a desert. “A sentimonster?” she croaks. “But that’s – the Peacock creates sentimonsters, and it’s not broken anymore since Master Fu got back from Tibet –”

“Indeed,” Longg sighs. “It seems that whoever has stolen Duusu and Roaar is Hawkmoth’s ally after all. It’s possible that we will also encounter a Tiger wielder, if this Peacock has an ally of their own.”

“Just when I thought it was all over,” Adrien groans.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Marinette takes his hand and runs her thumb over the back of it.

“I mean, I was kind of expecting it. I guess I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop since the Peacock and Tiger were stolen. But we’ve got something that the Peacock and Tiger wielders don’t have.” Adrien takes Marinette and Kagami’s hands, and Luka grabs Marinette’s free hand. “We’ve got each other.”

“That,” Marinette says, “was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard, and I’m so exposing you in the group chat tonight.”

“But milady!” Adrien pouts. Marinette absolutely refuses to acknowledge the way her stomach flips and shivers at those kitty eyes, because there’s no way in hell she’s handing Adrien that victory. “I thought you loved me!”

“Oh my god, can you guys hurry the hell up?” Honeybee’s standing on the roof behind them with crossed arms, tapping her foot, as the four of them whirl around. “That thing’s not gonna ice itself! Shut up!” she splutters when Adrien grins at her for her joke.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!” A slim figure with magenta-tipped brown hair and a tight magenta suit lands on the building next to the lava sentimonster. From this distance, the only details Marinette can make out are that her long hair is bunched near the end and her angular face is framed by two thick locks of brown hair. “Come out and give your Miraculouses up, or Mayura’s sentimonster and I, Felina, will destroy Paris! Where are you, Adrien?”

Adrien immediately throws himself to the ground in case the magenta girl – Felina, obviously the wielder of the Tiger Miraculous – happens to look his way.

“Looks like it’s time to introduce Morpho to the world, then,” Luka sighs. “Not that anyone will trust me. I’m pretty sure the sight of an akuma’s going to make them run the other way.”

“We did mention in our press conference that the Butterfly was in good hands now instead of evil,” Marinette says. “But yeah, I think Hawkmoth’s wounds are too deep to heal overnight. It can’t hurt to try, though.”

“We should transform before Honeybee Venoms us and throws us at the sentimonster,” Kagami says. Honeybee’s eye twitches.

“Don’t give me ideas. I’ll meet you losers there.”

Marinette grins at her partners as Honeybee leaps away. “Ready, guys?”

“But of course, bugaboo,” Adrien says from the balcony ground. “Plagg, claws out!”

“Always. Longg, bring the storm!”

“I’ll always have your backs. Nooroo, wings rise!”

Marinette’s grin widens at the sight of Chat Noir, Ryuuko, and Morpho before her. Morpho’s outfit is less formal and stuffy than Hawkmoth’s had been; his rich purple blazer is open over a button-down shirt that’s silver with black butterflies and artfully undone a few buttons down from his throat. The sleeves of both his blazer and shirt are rolled to his elbows and the lapels flare out like butterfly wings, and he also has a pair of black fingerless gloves and silver boots that rise halfway up his calves, over his tight indigo pants. His teal tips have turned the same rich purple as his blazer and, in contrast to his distressed formal outfit, his mask looks airy and delicate, with silver butterfly wings arching from the sides of his face, a silver butterfly body and antennae over his nose and forehead, and pale purple detailing that blends with the silver. The Butterfly Miraculous, now with four thin lilac spikes like wings, rests on his left breast.

“Not bad, Morpho,” Chat Noir says with his usual roguish wink. “I don’t know why you didn’t let us see this until now.”

“I was trying to get used to the fact that I had the same magic jewel as the major supervillain,” Morpho says dryly. “And it’s only the second time I’ve transformed.”

“Well, it suits you. A lot,” Marinette says. “It’s perfect for kicking sentimonster butt. Speaking of which…Tikki, spots on!”

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tetrakys · 5 years

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Captor and Captive -pt.1

This started as a quick smut to help me quench my Lance thirst.

It ended up being the set up of his route. The first part is my rewrite of the interrogation scene, where Erika is the captor and Lance is the captive. Second part is going to be after the kidnapping, where roles are reversed and it’s going to be more smutty.

When I got to the prison, Valkyon was already there. As agreed with Lance he was staying in the background… My fear was clearly tangible… and from Lance’s smile, I could see he was enjoying this. But I had to be strong and get information out of him.

I walked towards his cage while keeping a security distance of at least one meter. I then started questioning him but of course… Lance didn’t answer.

“You had agreed to talk if I came.”

“I said I might talk if you came. That’s slightly different” he replied in a mocking tone. “We could play a game you and I…”

“What game?”

His eyes took my whole figure, from top to bottom. His gaze was like a sensual caress over my body, and I felt myself blush despite everything. Come on Erika, get a grip! He was playing with me, I would not fall into his trap.

“I will ask you a question and you answer honestly. Then you ask a question and I will answer you as honestly as you have.”

“How can I believe you? ‘As honestly as I have’ you say… for all that matter how can you even tell how honest I’m being?” I replied sceptic.

“I’m a man of my word, and you…” his half smile was pure mischief “you are an open book. Everything you think, everything you feel… is clearly displayed for me to read.”

What a bunch of nonsense. Fine. I didn’t see any other way to get information out of him. I was not very comfortable in letting Lance lead the dance though… he clearly thought of me as a scared little girl he could easily manipulate, and I couldn’t let him.

I took a step closer to the cage. Standing right in front of him, looking directly into his eyes I replied “Agreed.”

“Erika” Valkyon exclaimed worried from behind my back “stay back!”

This was not the moment to cower down in fear and show that I needed someone else’s protection.

“Go away Valkyon.”

“What? No way.”

I turned towards him, trying to convey him everything with my eyes.

“He’s never going to talk with you in the room, we both know it. He’s still bound by Miiko’s spell, everything’s going to be okay.”

He stayed there for a moment, hesitant. I could tell he really didn’t want to leave me alone with him.

“What brother… are you afraid I’m going to steal her from you? Is she yours?”

Valkyon didn’t reply, so he kept teasing him, “you shouldn’t be ashamed of enjoying such a body…” he looked at me straight in the eye and added “I wouldn’t.”

“That’s enough” I said firmly, while deep down his words had shook me way more than I wanted to admit. “Ignore him Valkyon. He is just trying to get a rise out of everyone because there’s literally nothing else he can do right now. You can go.”

My tone was confident, I could tell he was still hesitant, but he nodded and left the room. I turned back to face Lance.

He stared at me. His look really was unnerving, but I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me.

“Finally alone…” he said with a smirk. “Let’s start with a simple question. Where do you come from?”

“From Earth. What are you here for?”

“To break the Crystal.”

“How did you get to Eldarya?”

“Through a mushroom ring. Why do you want to break the Crystal?”

“To free my people. What is your connection with the Crystal?”

“I have no idea, I think I’m just the ‘chosen one’. What do you mean by ‘free my people’?”

“Their souls are trapped within this damn stack of stones!” His tone grew angrier “I can’t stand seeing them in such distress.”

“T-That’s not true... Some of them were in Memoria…” I was confused and blurted out before I could stop myself.

“Nonsense…”

He didn’t seem to take me seriously but whatever… it didn’t matter. I wasn’t there to convince him after all.

“What are the names of your partners at HQ?”

“Why do you even care? After everything these people have done to you… you should want them dead.” He was absolutely serious when he added “We could kill them together. I could help you.”

“You are… completely insane.” I replied horrified.

“Why? I’m just stating the facts, and you know it. I’m the only one who has always told you the truth here.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Think about it… wasn’t it true what I told you that night, under the cherry tree? They had a way to send you home and lied to you.”

“I-I understand… now. The price… the price is too high.” I replied, my voice shaking.

“You can play at being the understanding one all you want, still they lied. You are just another pawn to them, ready to sacrifice your whole life for their own selfish reasons.”

His words were like a blade through my heart.

“Shut up!” I shouted gripping the bars of his cell.

“Why? Is the truth too much to bear? Am I jeopardising this lie you created for yourself where you are actually living in a world you chose? Surrounded by people who love you and always put your best interests in front of their own?”

I had to stop him. I pushed the door of his cell with fury and rushed in. He was lying on the floor, his hands tied behind his back, which was resting against the wall. His smile was as cruel as his words.

“They may need you to save this filthy world Erika, but they don’t care about you one bit.”

“I said… SHUT UP!”

I jumped on him. Literally. I was hovering him, straddling his legs, my hands around his throat. I was acting like a crazy person but in that moment I didn’t care, I just needed him to shut up.

“I like this fire you have inside…” he said, totally unfazed by my threatening stance, his voice seductive “no one has any idea of who you really are inside, no one but me.”

“I said shut up! You know nothing!” My hands closing tighter around his throat, squeezing just a bit.

“I know that, in your life, you have never suffered as much as you have since you arrived in this goddammed world. I know that you have lost part of yourself when you lost your family. I know that you would do anything to return things to the way they were and get your life and your people back. You and I are exactly the same.”

This left me speechless, and I understood. He really thought he was on a mission to save his race. It wasn’t hunger for power or thirst for blood moving him. It was love. Or, at least, a twisted version of it.”

“I’ve never killed anyone.” I said trying to put things into perspective, before I ended up feeling too empathetic.

“Really?” he said raising an eyebrow. “You may have not struck the final blow, but you can sincerely say you have never been involved in anyone’s death?”

Yvoni’s face popped into my mind immediately. And all the people infected by the Crystal… that no one in the Guard had tried to save.

“No one really innocent” I tried to argue, my tone dubious.

He smiled, his crooked and evil smile I was starting to get familiar with. “News flash girl, no one here is innocent. Every faelian selfishly accepted the complete extinction of dragons and aengels to save their own worthless skin. There’s not a pure soul in this disgusting world. But you…”

He moved his face closer to mine, and I just stayed there, chaos in my mind, letting him hover his lips a breath away from mine.

“You are a breath of fresh air.” He took my lower lip between his teeth, biting lightly on it. I felt his tongue caress it before releasing it. “And you taste good. I might keep you.”

His ice-blue eyes bore into mine. Eyes that looked so incredibly cold and evil, but from that distance I could see hid a secret heat behind… or was it because they were looking at me? I had never noticed before, when he was wearing the mask, but… they were captivating. His whole face was. Even that scar on his nose, giving him a ruggedly dangerous look. And those full lips…

“If you keep looking at me like this, I might just eat you.”

“W-what…?”

I felt his hands on my hips, pushing my core towards his own. He was… big. And hard.

My mind blanked completely, and I got lost in his gaze and the sensations the pressure of his shaft on my most sensitive spot and its rhythmic motions were giving me.

“You feel good…” he whispered.

Then he took my lips with his. His kiss was brutal, deep, all instinct and aggression. But his lips were soft, and his tongue moved expertly caressing my own, giving me sensations I had never felt before. And this, more than anything else, scared me. Everything felt too good. Even his hands, grabbing my ass with possession.

Wait… his hands?!

When the first coherent thought started to form in my mind, alerting me that something was wrong, I felt a voice from afar calling my name, and quick steps approaching, closer and closer.

“It seems we have to continue this another time” he said, his tongue coming to lick my lower lip one last time. “You really taste good. I’m sorry about this.”

By the time I understood what was happening, and several people were rushing into the prison, it was already too late.

I felt his hands grasp my arms violently and a blade go to my throat.

“Let me walk out of HQ with her or I kill her.”

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

Go to part 2

#eldarya #lance #ashkore #episode 25 #eldarya episode 25 #eldarya 25 #my writing

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cryptidofthekeys · 4 years

Text

Its another tf2 oc and im not ashamed

Let me break it down to y’all how this happened, so basically- I wanted a mafia-esque spy character but then my brain decided ok mafia mans is coolio BUT WHAT IF... t e n t a s p y mafia boss man? And voila here this fucker is

Name: Alphonse Blanchard | Titles/Nicknames: The Spy, Boss which usually his "partners" call him that, or just call him Alphonse, only ONE person can call him AL, anyone else tries it and well it wont be a very pleasant experience | Gender: Male | Species/Race: Used to be a normal human, now he's a Tentaspy- a m o n s t e r. | Age: 49s/50s | Occupation: Even tho he's got the title of The Spy n such- he's p much teechnically a Mafia Boss- b i g boss man for sure- | Height: When he was human he was about 5'7", but now he's 8'9" (nearly 9ft) | Eye Color: His eye color when he was human was a Steel Gray color, his eyes are now a Charcoal color (mostly for their meanings n stuff), his pupils are also slit ones now. | Hair Color: (even though most of his face except for his eyes and mouth are covered by a balaclava and you'd most likely never see him without his mask on, his hair color is black with grey streaks in the sides of it, however for the record- his hair is VERY tidy and slicked back) | Appearance: Now, not much changes tbh- except... he cant wear pants bc of the tentacles on his lower half but I'll get to those in a minute, he wears v e r y fancy and HIGHLY expensive suits, only the f i n e s t of clothing for him, usually he wears dark gray or black suits but he does have other colors- their just ALL dark colors, he likes the appeal of black or gray colors- and he d e f i n i t e l y loves the meaning behind them, they fit him so well... He also wears fedoras, he has some rings (you know the ones- the ones that some mafia characters or just big shots in general tend to wear- yeaah, his biggest ring and the one he usually wears has a skull on it-), and he of course has a circle beard, oh and he has a lot of scars both on his upper human body and his tentacles even, just- gettin that outta the way right quick- now onto his more monstrous features... For starters, let's get the simple one out of the way, he DOES have claws now, long sharp black claws to be more specific- his tentacles are pitch black on top with Smoke Gray tiger-like stripes going down them his underbelly is also Smoke Gray color- and oh boy... here's the most complex thing- his teeth, while all his teeth are p much bear trap teeth, his lateral incisors both top and bottom are longer kinda like vampire teeth or something like that ya know, his actual canines both top and bottom ones along with his first AND second premolars (again both the top ones AND the bottom ones are actually curved (kinda like an anaconda's in a way- p much- just- hooked teeth, perfect for hooking onto prey and not letting go if need be) | Personality: Oh b o y well, where to even begin with this motherfucker? He's narcissistic as hell "I k n o w I'm handsome, yes~" and god forbid you compliment him or anything- bc with e v e r y compliment, every good thing said about him his ego inflates and grows tenfold, even if you say bad shit about him- he don't give a fuck- as long as it doesn't affect his reputation then you'll be fine! He'll just pay no mind to petty insults or anything, at first- insults calling him a monster n anything similar bothered him, it made him feel sick every time someone had used those insults but now? Now... While he would MUCH prefer to have legs again (its honestly just bc its easier to walk around with legs than tentacles), he e m b r a c e s the fact he's a monster, he knows there's no reversing this, if there was- he would... he wouldn't go OUT of his way for it BUT he would at the very least TRY to get his hands on whatever could cure this, ahem anyways- he's come to terms with what he is even if some things about it aren't... ideal... I wouldn't say he's EVIL really, he's more so a neutral unless provoked/attacked- t h e n he'll "take care" of whatever or whoever's causing the problem with NO mercy whatsoever, but other than that he can be a reasonable man, just don't piss him off, steal from him, etc- basically don't make enemies with him and you should be just fine, he isn't one for small talk or anything like that, he wants to talk business, business and m o n e y even, even if he is a fucking HIGHLY rich bastard, he always wants more- he's got a BIT of a greed streak in him for sure (that doesn't mean however he won't let others borrow money, he just expects them to pay it back in the end or sometimes... he'll use his money for ahem, undercover classified reasons...) He'll flirt with a n y o n e if they happen to catch his eye, not just ladies either- men, ladies, no gender? What the fuck ever, if he wants- he's GONNA flirt with anyone, even if it might not end in love or whatever, he doesn't? really? He doesn't really care tbh, love is alright and if it happens it happens but honestly- he's just a fucking flirty b i t c h, who loves to see that flustered look and get a reaction from the other, you'll never truly know... feelings? Maybe but probably not... (tl;dr: Flirty bitch- I wouldnt hold hopes for feelings, greed streak but isn't afraid to let others borrow money so long as they pay it back in the end- some things he uses it for are classified- p much [REDACTED] info, neutral unless provoked/attacked, no mercy nor care towards enemies- can and WILL wipe out every single one of his enemies without a single t r a c e being left behind, even tho he's a monster now and has a LOT more strength than a normal human, he still tends to use guns or knives but isn't afraid to use his monstrous features if need be, narcissistic bastardery at its finest- compliment him and watch his ego inflate! "Don't you want r e a l friends Alphonse and not just henchmen or lackeys?" "....Non, not in the slightest, absolutely disgusting to even ASSUME I need friends, I, myself am my best company, better than any friend could e v e r do" w o w- b a s t a r d energy there huh) | Side Facts: ...Truth be told, he won't e v e r forget the day he turned into... this... this t h i n g... Even if he's accepted his fate, even if he's accepted to be this monster, the memory still lingers and haunts him and his very dreams, he has nightmares about it, and its mostly due to the agonizing pain he felt d u r i n g his little "transformation", it happened one day- he was in his own medic's lab (yes, the bitch has his o w n doctor), it was a normal routine health check up his medic liked to do- the man was always harping onto Alphonse for that pesky smoking habit of his, but then suddenly, one of the rival- well, t h e y call themselves family- Alphonse only considers the people he hired to be henchmen, lackeys, OR- just employees for basic terms, but one of his rivals broke in and decided to open fire and of course, it turned into an all out gun war, Alphonse DID get shot- which is what caused him to stumble backwards into a shelf full of god knows what, after he bumped it, a few jars of weird substances had fallen onto him, after that he could feel his body twisting and contorting, he remembers the a g o n i z i n g pain he felt that day, it was worse than that mere gunshot wound that he had... Aside from the horrifying memory of what fate had befell him... He also remembers what he d i d to his little rivals... He remembers the mortified and terror-stricken look on their faces, all of them had ran- except for... their boss... so much for "family sticks together" huh, he remembers slithering over towards the boss, who- well, he tried to fire from the looks of it, but he was so terrified that he had dropped his gun, Alphonse had never seen such terror on a grown man's face like that, but he loved e v e r y. s e c o n d. until the very end, he doesn't remember what came over him in the end, maybe it was blind fury, or maybe it was just instincts, but after he did what he did... He remembers seeing the boss's head ripped off completely along with other limbs ripped off and flung across the room. Unfortunately, his suit was v e r y messy after that- He actually still keeps the boss's head preserved- almost like a t r o p h y in fact... ....Oh, your probably wondering what happened to his doctor, right? ....Well, I'll say is he's still out there, he didn't get killed- neither by the rivals nor Alphonse's instincts/fury, but truth be told... He doesn't REALLY wanna come back, he wants to stay hidden- I will say, yes- he DID see Alphonse transform, but after that he fled- part of him figured deep down that Alphonse would be v e r y angry with him since h e was technically the one who had those jars just sitting around on the shelf and he did NOT wanna stick around if that man was c r o s s with him... now whether or not Alphonse will ever encounter/find him again? ... Who knows- h e h ASIDE from all the backstory of why he turned into a Tentaspy, let's move onto things Alphonse just- likes to do in his spare time when he's not talking business n all that jazz- He usually smokes some of his cigarettes or cigars, he loves the cigars more though- he'll also do some reading in his spare time as well, or he'll listen to some calming music- sometimes he'll do all three, smoke, read, and listen to some calming music- he's not... the most exciting man, he's just usually busy- so when he's not- he'll just do those things- He'll SOMETIMES go outside and get some fresh air, usually its at night- not necessarily just bc there's l e s s people to worry about- but usually because he enjoys looking up and seeing the moonlight when its out, such a beautiful sight...

#tf2 oc #team fortress 2 oc #tf2 spy oc #mafia boss oc #gore warning #blood warning #my oc #tentaspy oc

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queenofcats17 · 6 years

Text

Human(?) Disaster

I blame @thedarkpuddles , @aceofintuition , and @pipesflowforeverandever for this. Here are some pictures of Minty. He’s kind of exploded. X X X X

This took awhile, and I’m really sorry about that. I hope this turned out alright.

Neither of them was sure how it had happened, but suddenly there was no them...There was only him. Part of him was screaming, but part of him was rather intrigued. He did not like this. He did not like this at all. He took one step forward and promptly fell to the ground. There was some swearing as he tried to get his bearings. His body really did not want to cooperate with him. He had four arms. That was...new. Was he supposed to have four arms? No, he was fairly certain he wasn’t.

“This is...new.” His voice sounded unfamiliar to his ears. There were two voices in his mind, one much louder than the other.

GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT OF MY HEAD RIGHT NOW!

My dear boy-

I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT! I WANT YOU OUT OF MY HEAD RIGHT NOW!

He clutched his head, fear and anger swelling in his chest. Where was this coming from? What even was he? His breath started to quicken. This was wrong. All of this was wrong. He couldn’t quite put into words why it was wrong, but he was certain it was. Slowly, a realization began to dawn on him as he pieced his memories and experiences together.

“We fused.” Dear God. They’d fused. He was a fusion. He almost passed out on the spot. No. No no no no nonononononononono. He did not want this. He did not want to be this. THEY did not want to be this. He had to find a way to reverse this. He had to find a way to separate them. He turned and made a beeline towards his(?) office. Or...he tried to. He ended up falling flat on his face once more.

Snowy hated this. He absolutely abhorred this. No one was allowed to ever know what he was actually thinking. His mind was a steel trap and he preferred to keep it that way. But now...Now someone had unfiltered access to even his most private thoughts and it was an absolute nightmare. Especially since that person was Gingie. He liked Gingie, he did, but his other self had some...boundary issues. Gingie was always trying to get Snowy to talk about his feelings, and Snowy had never been a fan of that. He was sure that once they separated, Gingie wasn’t going to shut up about everything he’d seen in Snowy’s mind. It was going to be a nightmare.

Gingie didn’t do much mind someone having unfiltered access to his mind. He had nothing to hide from his counterpart. Besides, he’d always been very open with his feelings and he hadn’t yet gotten to the part in his story where he had anything to be ashamed of. Honestly, getting closer to his counterpart was exciting for him. Not to mention, he’d never experienced anything quite like this before. This was a magic he wasn’t familiar with and he wanted to learn as much about it as he could.

He groaned, pushing himself up from the ground and into a sitting position. His default state seemed to just be discomfort. He felt a little better now, but there was an underlying sense of discontent. He wasn’t happy being what he was.

“Papa?” Joy came wandering out of his(?) office. His heart swelled at the sight of her. He wasn’t sure who he was, but he knew he loved her. He stood up, striding over to her and sweeping her up in his arms. He didn’t need to think about what he was doing, he just knew he wanted to hold her.

“Hello, darling.” He smiled softly, brushing some hair out of her face. Joy tilted her head to the side, looking a little confused.

“Papa...And Uncle Gingie?” She asked, reaching out to touch his face.

“I...Yes.” He felt much calmer having her near him. If there was one thing the two of them could agree on, it was that they loved Joy. Joy watched him curiously.

“Was Uncle Gingie doing magic again?” She asked.

“Unfortunately.” Snowy’s voice slipped out, obviously less than pleased with the situation.

My dear boy, might I remind you that you agreed to do the ritual with me?

That was because I didn’t know it would do this!

Joy watched as the internal struggle played out on his face. She could tell that he was having a hard time with whatever the situation was. She wanted to help him somehow, although she wasn’t sure what exactly she was supposed to do. First, though, he needed a name. She wanted to have something to call him.

“I’m going to call you Papa Minty.” She suddenly announced with a big smile. The internal argument ceased at this. He stared down at her, brow slightly furrowed.

“Minty?” He asked.

“You have a hair swoop that looks like toothpaste, and toothpaste is minty.” Joy explained, hands on her hips. He couldn’t help but smile. She was so proud of herself for this.

“That sounds lovely, dear.” He kissed her head. Joy giggled, covering her face with her hands.

“Do you want to sit on my lap while I try to figure out a way to undo this?” He asked. He knew there were some books in Snowy’s office from the last time Gingie had been over. One of them had to have some kind of way to fix this. Joy nodded, settling in his arms. He managed to make it to the office this time, getting inside and sitting down in Snowy’s chair. It was...an awkward fit. He wasn’t sure how tall he was at the moment, but it was certainly far taller than a normal human was supposed to be. Sighing to himself, he picked up one of the books from the desk and opened it.

One of these books better have something.

I’m sure at least one has what we’re looking for. Although, our pool of knowledge is a bit limited at the moment.

Well, we’ll have to make do. I’m not traveling to your dimension while we’re like this. Who knows what’ll happen.

That is a fair point, I suppose.

With one of his free hands, he grabbed a journal, flipping it open and beginning to scribble notes on the paper. Joy peered at the books from his lap, her eyes wide with wonder. As time went on, though, she ended up falling asleep on Minty’s lap. Minty shifted her so she was in a more comfortable position before continuing. A large stack of books began to form beside Minty as he went through the available tomes. As he focused, he found himself feeling more and more comfortable in his body. He didn’t hear the two distinct voices in his mind as much. He almost felt...happy. Then Henry walked in.

“Joey, I’m heading out for the day and I just wanted to...drop off...” Henry trailed off as he took in the scene before him. He stood in the doorway for a moment, arms limp at his sides and his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Huh.” He finally said. “This is...new.” In Minty’s lap, Joy stirred. She sat up, looking around blearily. Her face lit up upon seeing Henry.

“Uncle Henry!” She scrambled off of Minty’s lap, running over to Henry.

“Hey there, kiddo.” Henry scooped her up. “Would you mind telling me what happened here?”

“Uncle Gingie and Papa were doing magic stuff and now they’re Papa Minty.” Joy said, as if that was supposed to answer all of Henry’s questions. Henry had to bite back a sigh. He supposed he should be used to this sort of thing by now.

“So, sounds like you had a pretty busy day, old friend.” Henry shifted his gaze to Minty, who suddenly looked rather uncomfortable again.

“It’s been...less than ideal.” Minty nodded, beginning to fidget with his pen.

“Would you like me to take Joy home? I doubt you can go back to Ana looking like this.” Henry said. Minty nodded again.

“I’ll tell Ana you’re working late.” Henry offered a reassuring smile. “I hope you get this figured out.”

“Night, Henry.” Minty mumbled, looking back at the notes he’d taken.

Are you going to tell Ana about all of this?

Are you kidding? God no.

Why not?

Look, I don’t want Ana getting involved in this shit. Alternate dimensions and magic are dangerous. If something goes wrong, I don’t want her suffering for it.

Ah, yes. That...That is a good point.

Minty sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. He needed to take a break. He’d been working for hours now. He got up from Snowy’s desk and went to the door, poking his head cautiously out. It seemed as though most everyone had gone home for the day. He really didn’t feel like explaining how this had happened. Once he was sure he was alone, he made his way to the bathroom. He hadn’t actually gotten a good look at himself yet. Despite his fear of making it real by confronting his reflection, he walked in and looked in the mirror.

Well, would you look at that?

We look ridiculous.

Oh, hush. We look fine.

He reached up and unconsciously adjusted his extravagant bowtie, a small smile playing on his lips as he gazed at himself.

Gingersnap, we’re nine feet tall and dressed like some English dandy. We look ridiculous.

I think we look quite whimsical if I do say so myself.

You would say that.

All things considering, he looked more like Snowy than he did Gingie in terms of physical appearance. But the fashion was all Gingie. It wasn’t bad by any circumstance. But it was strange for both of them to see. He had to find some way to fix this. Still...He leaned closer, touching his face and running a hand through his hair. It was amazing what magic could do. He couldn’t believe this was him.

Alright. Enough gawking. Let’s get back to work.

You are absolutely no fun, my dear Snowy.

He gulped down some water and returned to Snowy’s office. He was making rather good progress if he did say so himself. He would probably have this all figured out by morning.

#bendy and the ink machine #minty drew #gingie drew #joey snowy drew #joey drew #fanfiction #joy drew #henry #snowy drew

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msdoctorwho · 6 years

Text

Fire Meet Gasoline, Ch. 7

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13461255/chapters/33648915

Bulma was an adventurous girl; she’d been chasing after the Dragon Balls half her life by now. She was no stranger to fear or death, dragons or space. But she’d never been so afraid as when she tore through the still-smoldering remains of her own contraption to find Vegeta.

If he died, she’d never forgive herself for building it.

When he struggled to his feet and insisted he was fine, she’d never so strongly felt two opposing emotions at the same time. Fury at him for almost killing himself, and relief that he hadn’t quite managed it. But he’d passed out before she could scream at him and she’d been too busy shouting orders at the groundskeeping bots and ripping her own clothes into field dressings to manage anything else.

Between herself, her father and the Medi-bots they got him stabilized, thanks to her foresight in hosting the only Saiyan/Namekian blood-bank on Earth in the basements of Capsule Corp. It was easy enough to synthesize a continuous supply once she’d gotten an initial sample, so she stocked enough for Goku, Gohan, Piccolo, and now Vegeta. As far as she could tell, the blood of the two full Saiyans was similar enough to each other to substitute in a pinch, but had type differences comparable to humans. Gohan...well, she wasn’t sure if Gohan would be able to take any combination of human and Saiyan blood, or only his own, so she stocked twice as much for him. She’d tried to get a sample from future kid, but he’d gotten so flustered when she asked that she’d guessed he was like Goku when it came to needles, and let it drop. She would just double her demi-Saiyan supply before the androids came.

After the last of the stitches and bandages were done, there was nothing left to do but watch over him as his healing factor kicked in. She could have gone back to her work and let the ever-vigilant bots do their jobs. She could have watched the live feed from her desk. She stayed.

His body temperature continued to rise as it fought infection and rebuilt itself from injuries that her mind still argued should have been fatal. People did not come back from wounds like that. Humans didn’t. She was struck anew with the realization that he was alien , he was different. However well she liked to think she’d begun to know him, there was still so much she didn’t know at all.

She didn’t usually believe in duplicating tech not of her own invention, but she'd have given anything that night to have a regeneration tank. Why hadn’t she spent some time trying to reverse-engineer that, instead of writing lewd Saiyan limericks?

As soon as he was better, she was going to fix that mistake. He had to get better.

He definitely had what would be considered a fever for a Saiyan, but she had no idea when high might cross over into dangerously-high.

She was back to being pissed off, at herself for her incomplete knowledge of Saiyan physiology, for making the machine that almost killed him, and at him for overriding the failsafes she’d programmed to protect him from himself.

His temperature stopped climbing, so she decided against an ice bath for the moment. He was just restless, and dreaming.

The fever dreams got worse as the night wore on; he progressed to what seemed more like full-blown hallucinations. Most of what he muttered was unintelligible to her, but a few things were repeated so much she’d never forget: ‘Frieza’, ‘demon-lizard’, ‘father’, and worst of all, ‘please’.

Vegeta never said ‘please’.

He grew so restless she considered additional sedatives or ki restraints, but his chemical responses to medication were so unpredictable she was reluctant to add anything new to the cocktail already swimming in his veins, and her heart broke at the thought of putting him in restraints after a night of eavesdropping on his dreams. She felt like an intruder into his most private space, but there was nothing to be done about it. Whether he knew she was there or not, she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him alone when he’d come so close to dying.

He was floating now, pulling at the tubes and needles, eyes half-open, lucidity surfacing in words like ‘Kakarot’, ‘vengeance’, ‘birthright’, ‘ascend’, ‘legendary’, ‘mine’, ‘mine’, ‘mine…’

If she lost control of this situation she’d have to call Goku to get him back in bed, and nothing in the universe would keep Vegeta here after that.

Panicking, she climbed bodily onto the bed with him, trying to ground him with her body weight, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, bringing her lips to his ear, pouring out words that came to her on instinct: “You’re safe. Frieza is dead. You will ascend. I’m here.” The scent of burning things was in the air as his aura scorched the sheets, and her hair. It felt like holding the sun.

Finally, the gathered power fizzled out, and they sank down against the too-hot mattress, searing her unprotected shins like black leather in a hot car. Damn it, Vegeta.

He wasn’t thrashing around anymore, but his breathing was labored, every muscle tense, completely unaware of her presence. She was soaked in her own sweat from the heat radiating off of him, but he was dangerously dry. She grabbed the wet cloth from the side table to cool his face and neck. When she leaned away to wring it out and reapply, his arms came suddenly around her with iron force. The rag hit the floor with a wet smack and she made a little “eep” of surprise as he buried his face in her neck.

This was not quite the embrace she’d fantasized about, honestly. It was more like being trapped in a sauna. Still, it seemed to calm him, and she dared hope he had turned the corner.

But even as he seemed to sleep, he kept tensing as if to brace against blows. Her ribs creaked under his strength. Goku might have to rescue themboth.

And so, in desperation, she sang to him.

She was no great talent, but music had been just another science for young Bulma to master, with pitch and rhythm its rules and elements. She applied herself diligently to the only Saiyan song she knew.

Adrift on the black ocean of fever dreams, Vegeta had been lost in his own crimson hellscape of past demons and future fears, until she arrived. A sliver of blue light worming her way into the nightmares the way she inserted herself into everything else, she told Frieza he was dead, the child he was safe, the warrior he would ascend, and himself that she was there. As though that weren’t obvious. Annoying even in his nightmares, he tried to tell himself, but even the warrior scorned him for a liar.

The black things snarled and snapped at the edges of blue, but came no further, for now. The red eyes were a promise of pain for later, and he waited in dread. Until she sang.

All of it left, when she sang. Her voice was a shock of cold water to his world on fire. A silvery low register incongruent with her speaking voice, almost a caress. And a lullaby tone...to go along with one of of the bawdiest Saiyan drinking songs ever written. Somehow, she knew all twelve verses, each worse than the last, and by the end of it his ears were burning and she’d dragged him back to himself in horror and wonder. Too drained even to cringe at how she held him like a child.

“I must be in sorry shape if you’re caterwauling at me like that,” he rasped, trying for caustic and failing with a dry whisper.

She jerked, her throat closing in relief. “Vegeta,” was all she could manage, hating herself for the catch at the end.

He just sighed, slowly turning his face into her neck. “Your pronunciation is terrible.”

She didn’t move, daren’t breathe. “My source material was, ah, pretty drunk.”

He did not need to ask which of his warriors would have been accidentally recording himself via his own scouter while deep in his cups. He wondered at the pang he felt, thinking of Nappa. Is this guilt?

She had not let go of him. “It’s a pretty great song.”

He snorted. “It’s a drinking song.” He knew he should push her away, but he didn’t have the strength.

Liar. At least admit to yourself that you just don’t want to.

She brushed matted hair away from his forehead, a whisper of touch. “But also a war hymn, right?”

“All Saiyan songs are about war.”

“ Of course they are ,” not-quite under her breath. Tentatively resting her head against his.

She went on, “But this one is all about war and conquest and this one general who can’t be defeated in battle, but full of double entendres about how he can’t, erm, win with the ladies ?”

“Yes.” His face was on fire. Well, more on fire, since he was clearly already feverish.

“Until he finally loses a battle, and the opposing general turns out to be a woman who claims him as her mate? ” He could feel her grinning in delight.

“Yes.”

“I thought it was pretty epic.”

Of course she would. Are we just not going to talk about this whole embrace thing? You know what, actually, I am fine with that.

He explained, “It’s more or less the story of how the two largest feudal city-states of old Vegetasei united and conquered the rest to become an empire.”

She was delighted. “So the greatest conqueror of Vegetasei was a woman?”

His reply was stuffy, as though they had wandered into contested territory. “She was the first , anyway. Greatest is up for debate.”

“Anyway, I liked it,” she murmured.

“You would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No Saiyan who wanted to stay alive would sing a vulgar song like that in the presence of royalty.”

“Pfffft. Like royals don’t know where babies come from.”

“Woman.” How could she even now still manage to shock him?

“You’re all no different behind closed doors.” She tightened her arms as though for emphasis. “Are you, Ve-ge-ta?” If her voice had been a caress before, this was a blatant grope.

“Woman.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Let me up.”

She shoved herself upright. “No. No! Are you kidding?” Her eyes were fire. “Maybe, maybe you can get out of that bed tomorrow. I literally just put you back together .”

He made a frustrated sound. “I have to--”

She smirked evilly at him. “Here.” She handed him a plastic object.

He started at it, not understanding. Then--

Gods, no.

“There is no way--”

“Listen, you ungrateful fuck, you are lucky I didn’t cath you--” she stopped, pinching the bridge of her nose, half-turning from him.

Whatever that was, it didn’t sound good, and he eyed her warily.

“I can call my dad, if you want,” she said in a neutral tone.

At his mulish expression, she continued waspishly, “or Goku ,” picking up steam, fueled by his predictable reaction to that , “but you should probably know that I shaved you bald and put about sixty stitches in your inner thigh to keep you from bleeding to death and get over yourself already!”

He convulsed in humiliated fury, but his open-mouthed snarl died at the tears on her face. He would have argued with her until he pissed himself, or relieved himself in defiance on her floor, but her tears wholly defeated him.

In all his life, had anyone ever cried at the thought he might die? What was wrong with her, that she did?

He turned away from her as much as he was able, until it was done. Shutting his eyes, shutting her out, he heard her walk to the bathroom, flush the toilet, turn the sink on and off.

Instead of leaving, she sat next to him again. He ignored her. Just go away already.

She didn’t move again for so long he thought she’d fallen asleep. He was drifting off in spite of himself, when her hand brushed his cheek, and he hated that her touch was a cool balm to his fevered skin. “Kami, Vegeta.” she said, softly. “Maybe remember this the next time you want to do something this stupid.” She lowered her voice. “If I blow myself up again, that woman will make me piss in a bottle,” she mock-growled.

His eyes flew open. As was so often the case, he didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss her or kill her. He wanted it so much he felt it in his teeth. But he was so tired, all he could do was glare.

Her other hand joined the first, cupping his face between them. It was a bit like holding an injured wild animal; she was not sure he would not bite her. She leaned closer; he stopped breathing.

Her kiss on his forehead was feather-light, as though it might hurt him, but lingering. When she pulled away, there were tears again.

He couldn’t break free from her eyes. “I care about you, you idiot,” she whispered.

He felt like he’d been shot through the chest. Again. What--

She forestalled any retort of his with her fingers on his lips. “I know you don’t want or need to hear that.”

She was so wrong, but he would never tell her, not when he couldn’t admit it to himself.

“Just sleep, okay?” she asked. A reply became impossible and unnecessary as he slipped under before she finished speaking.

Sometime during that endless night, she woke again to him grumbling about the plastic urinal.

He still refused to look at her while she dealt with it, but it was hard to stay embarrassed about what was clearly not a significant issue to her. This made him feel childish for being embarrassed, which pissed him off even more.

But then she smiled at him. “Thanks for not fighting me on this, Vegeta. I know how much you hate it.”

Just the acknowledgement of his struggle took the wind out of the sails of his fury.

It’s not like her smiles were rare. She was a disgustingly cheerful creature. But this one was his alone. Pure, no malice, no hint of mockery. Had he ever received such a gift?

She rolled her neck as she moved back toward the chair. It was no position to sleep in.

“You don’t have to play nursemaid anymore tonight,” he said.

“I know,” was all she said, yawning.

I gave you an out, woman. He snagged her wrist as she passed by, dragging her toward him, not roughly, but not giving her a choice, either.

She tried to tug it back, but even in this state he was so much stronger it was laughable. Her frown disappeared as she realized his intent.

The look on her face as she crawled over the rail was almost predatory. The animal in his blood roared a challenge, while the rest of him wondered if this might be his worst decision yet.

She loomed over him, until the scent of her skin overwhelmed him, his hands finding the back of her bare thighs.

She gasped, a breathless sound, twitching like a rabbit caught out of its den, hands digging into his shoulders.

Then she sighed and made a face at him. “Shove over. I swear, you have the shittiest timing.”

“What, have you suddenly grown a sense of decorum? You’ve been begging shamelessly for this for weeks,” his voice low, cutting. Stung by the unexpected rejection.

“Yeah, well, you had weeks to take advantage when you weren’t missing half your blood-volume. How much fun could that really be for me?” She crooked a limp finger at him, enjoying how much he hated her with his eyes for that.

“I will end you,” he responded, utterly calm. Eerily believable.

She waited for him to object as she nestled herself next to him, pillowing her head on his least-injured shoulder.

He didn’t, but he was back to furiously not looking at her again.

“Don’t freak out, Vegeta. I’m not saying ‘no,’ I’m just saying ‘how about maybe when you’re less almost-dead?’ Nothing says sexy like trying to orgasm while worrying your partner might stroke out.”

He grunted, but allowed her to lift his arm around her.

“I still have your blood in my hair ,” she groused.

He breathed her in, somewhat pleased at that.

“Ugh, only you would find that appealing.”

“Just shut up.”

“I hope you heal as fast as you claim you do, space man.”

He woke up well before her, and meant to let her sleep, but waking surrounded in the scent and feel of her was too much. His body was loudly making the case that it was fully recovered, thank you very much.

He kept trying to shift away from her lest it be obvious to her as well, but she clung to him like warship-grade adhesive.

“Stop moving so much, you’re still like 90% bandages,” she snapped without opening her eyes.

He didn’t know why, with her obvious want of him, it was such a problem for him that his body wanted her back.

Control, he supposed. He wanted total control over this rebellious facet of himself until he decided to unleash it, and not a second before.

Especially if she might say no, again.

“What is that?” he gestured vaguely in the direction of the barbaric fluids dripping into his arm, desperate for distraction.

“What is what, Vegeta?”

“Your primitive medicine still requires manual blood re-supply...that’s mine? It has my face on it.”

She made a noise of affirmation, too tired to speak.

“But those symbols aren’t my name.” He hadn’t put much effort into learning their rudimentary symbology yet, but he’d picked up enough to know that.

At this, she smiled without opening her eyes. “No, they are not.”

At his growl of irritation, she continued, “Humans have various blood types: Type A, B, AB, and O. Yours says ‘Type E’.”

She finally opened her eyes, smile broadening, to watch his reaction. “For ‘Elite’.”

His expression was just shy of murderous. “You mock me.”

She sighed, too tired to be less than honest. “A little bit yes, but mostly no. You are something else, Vegeta.”

He didn’t know what to think or say about that. “Of course I am,” he finally managed, but her light snores needled him in response.

“What does Kakarot’s say?” He couldn’t help asking.

“Hmm? Goku’s?” Her sleepy gaze met his again. “He’s ‘Type 3,’” she said, with a wink.

At that he laughed -- an honest, beautiful laugh. Its purity hurt her heart; she wondered if anyone else had ever heard it. She felt like she’d caught a star with her bare hands, and held it close in wonder.

What was this warmth blooming in his chest? Lingering fever? Or was this what it felt like, to have someone of your own? Oh, Nappa and Raditz had been loyal enough, but they’d been born into his service. It had never really been their choice, and he’d never really appreciated it, either.

She owed him no allegiance, no debt, and in fact had plenty of reason to hate him for the harm he’d caused when he first came to Earth. She owed him nothing, but offered him everything. Her loyalty. Her affection. Even a joke at her friend’s expense to please him.

The intensity of her eyes, when she moved over him again, was the blue of stars expiring, the last fierce gasp of life before the end. “I declare you fit for duty, soldier,” she breathed.

“-- modified duty,” she ground out at the flash in his eyes, “you’re not training today, jackass…”

She caught his retort with her lips. “You’re not going to have anything left for it, anyway,” she whispered into his mouth, and finally kissed him.

He was certain this was an Earthling thing, this meshing of mouths that sounded repulsive in the abstract but was amazingly intense in practice. The longer it went on the more desperate for her he felt, saved from feeling pathetic only by the needy whimpers she gave him in return.

She was careful with him, so careful. Each gentle touch was his undoing. He was completely unaccustomed to physical contact not meant to kill or cause pain. Every nerve ending was over-sensitized, almost painful, but she read his face like a map and knew when to touch and when to let him be.

She knew his hurts better than he did, having tended each one herself. She moved over him gingerly, but her weight was nothing to him.

Her touch was reverent, a feather-light stroke or kiss over every inch of skin not wrapped in gauze. She drew his hands to her, pragmatic as ever, unfazed by his uncertainty, and showed him exactly how his touch could please her.

He’d never felt anything as fine as her skin, or the silk of her hair, the heft of her breasts. In the end, she did not make him beg, but asked if he were certain, before taking him inside her as though this was a thing they had always done.

He’d thought he understood power -- what it was like to have it, and to have none at all. To cower before a monster that controlled your whole existence, or to watch planets die by your hand. He’d never felt anything like this, the power to cause such pleasure it looked like pain, to force his name from her lips, to watch her convulse and wail just for want of him and what his body could give her. He ached to be well enough to put her underneath him, to watch her writhe against vermillion silk, again and again, and he knew then he would never get enough of her.

Still jerky from her own release, she reached down to find a spot he hadn’t known existed, wrenching a cry from his throat as he shattered, lost control so completely that his aura reignited around them again. But this time, joined as they were, it knew her for its own. The blue tendrils of flame licked her skin as she laughed in delight and wonder. He forced it back into himself a breath later, shaken by how easily she'd broken him.

She collapsed onto him, and for long moments there was nothing but the sound of their harsh breathing in the dark. If his face was wet she said nothing of it, and freely gave her own tears as cover.

The next day, extricating himself from miles of gauze, he was stepping in the shower to rinse off before training when he noticed she had written on him, underneath the bandages.

No disgraceful poems this time, nothing so elegant, just the Saiyan word for “penis” in bold characters across his forearm. Her penmanship was improving, but the strokes were jagged, angry.

It would not wash off.

“Woman!” he bellowed, in such a rage that the barometric pressure shifted around the whole compound.

“Hey Vegeta, what’s up?” She asked with feigned nonchalance, as though he didn’t look one breath away from destroying the whole building.

“Remove this immediately!” He brandished his arm at her. Registering dim surprise that she didn’t flinch, that she truly had no fear of him anymore.

She was incoherent, and he realized she was crying and laughing at the same time.

“You’re unhinged!” he spat, uncomfortable with displays of any emotion, much less two that made no sense together.

She patted his wrist ineffectually. “I was so mad at you, Vegeta.”

She took a few breaths, calming down. “And myself, for underestimating your skill and stupidity.”

She wiped her eyes and stepped closer to him, the pain in her crystal blue gaze sucking his breath away. “Most of all, I didn’t know how to forgive myself if one of my inventions killed you, and I couldn’t think about that--”

My miserable life isn’t worth it, he wanted to tell her, though he never would.

She sighed. “I just remember thinking, you’d be so pissed off when you saw it that you might kill me, and how happy I’d be if you recovered enough to do it.”

“Lunatic,” he called her, without venom. Whatever this was between them, it terrified him, and for the first time he could see it was not healthy for her, either.

But then she stepped into his unwilling embrace, clothes and all, even though he was half-under the shower.

Closing the circuit between them was electric, the contact more than merely sexual. The exposed mutual vulnerability was terrifying, but for the first time since his last glimpse of Vegetasei through a shuttle window, he tasted a feeling like home.

#vegebul #vegebul fanfiction #vegeta #vegeta x bulma #bulma

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liuwdere · 7 years

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the gay ass anime masterpost*

*not actually a masterpost, since i give about two and a half fucks about keeping this updated or properly categorized. real loose classifications to follow. shit i haven’t seen in italics; stuff i’d highly recommend in bold. now updated w/ streaming links (some are US-only tho, sorry)

no predatory lesbians or okama joke characters or else we’ll be here all day. k? k.

LGBT-THEMED: anime that directly addresses LGBT identity as one of its primary focuses

Revolutionary Girl Utena

the ez one

Yurikuma Arashi

Class S is bullshit, did u know that. Also, thirsty-ass bear girls and a real angry takedown of the patriarchy

Flip Flappers

I don’t know how you can read this show as anything but lesbian sexual awakening, especially given the Class S Yuri Hell episode

Wandering Son (Hourou Musuko)

pls pay attention to the T friends

Aoi Hana (Sweet Blue Flowers)

Showa Genroku Rakugo Shinju

Kikuhiko is def not cishet and i will fite u if u insist otherwise. Half the show’s choices make no sense without that lens

Yuri!!! on Ice

fite me

LGBT-THEMED; LIMITED REP: anime that addresses gender or sexuality as a secondary focus, though perhaps lacking explicit representation (e.g. LGBT narratives in the secondary cast).

The Woman Called Fujiko Mine (from the director of Yuri!!! on Ice)

One of the supporting characters is a gay man struggling w/ masculinity

Gay schoolgirl episode all about female sexual repression

did i mention the titty is good

Princess Jellyfish

Prominent focus on gender presentation

Kuranosuke can be read as a closeted trans woman

Paradise Kiss

Heroine’s love interest is bisexual

Trans woman in the supporting cast; trans identity plays a major role in her story

Ouran High School Host Club

Discusses gender + gender presentation, though protagonist isn’t explicitly stated to be nonbinary

Protagonist’s parents implied to be genderqueer; father definitely bi

Plenty of gay subtext among the male cast

Scum’s Wish

Strong focus on female sexuality; main character is bisexual

Central cast also includes a lesbian

Simoun

Discusses gender as more of an abstraction? Takes place in a world where everyone is born female to later choose a permanent gender. It does less to directly address gender than you’d expect, though, which is why I’m sticking it here

From the New World (Shin Sekai Yori)

Future dystopia where societal norms practically mandate bisexuality. Honestly, I dunno where to put this; the story’s more concerned with sexuality in general than with LGBT identity

Devilman Crybaby

Classic characters reinterpreted through a queer lens; important theme of coming to terms with one’s own sexuality and identity. Ryo is the definition of disaster gay

LGBT REP: anime w/ positive depictions of LGBT characters, though not necessarily concerned w/ addressing queerness directly.

Samurai Flamenco

Four words: gay naked gunpoint proposal. the show makes about that much sense but it’s a lotta fun

i don’t care what the director said

bisexual girl in a poly relationship

No. 6

boys kissing tho???

Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid

pls ignore the manga and its magic dick nonsense

Haruchika

One of the two leads is a gay boy. He explicitly says so in the first episode. Avoid the live-action movie like the plague.

I should probably list Kase-san and Bloom Into You here

Mikagura School Suite

The heroine is REALLY THIRSTY for all the cute girls

Gankutsuou: The Count of Monte Cristo

Beyond the obvious homoerotic overtones of Albert/the Count, there’s Franz’s gay crush

Sympathetic trans girl character in the secondary cast

Michiko and Hatchin (from the director of Yuri!!! on Ice!!!)

Girls are good ok

Atsuko is gay

Macross Delta

two girls in the supporting cast do a hell of a lotta cuddling on screen

some versions of Sailor Moon

namely the ‘90s anime

Sailor Moon Crystal and the manga do address gender in… questionable ways

Tokyo Godfathers

Trans woman in the main cast

Tiger and Bunny

Reasonably respectful portrayal of a gay man once it gets going

Central relationship between two men could be read as romantic

Genshiken

Whispered Words (Sasameki Koto)

Psycho-Pass

One of the officers is a lesbian. She gets a focus episode

Monogatari series

Really just limited to Kanbaru, but she’s the most accurate depiction of the constantly horny dank meme problematic gay (e.g. me) i’ve ever seen, ironic propositioning of her straight dude friend and all. The rest of the franchise is obnoxious though, so ymmv

Kill la Kill?

i don’t know how else you interpret one girl kissing another on the mouth

Attack on Titan

If you’ve been living under a rock and somehow haven’t heard about it Ymir and Christa are all but explicitly stated to be in love with each other

Kino’s Journey

Kino asks people to use non-gendered pronouns, apparently? I haven’t seen this yet.

Knights of Sidonia

Non-binary character in the main cast

The manga goes some iffy places with their character tho, be warned

Really though, I mostly like this show for the sentient pink penis alien

Gatchaman Crowds

Several gender non-conforming characters

Trans girl in the main cast

Cardcaptor Sakura?

Fuuka

One of the dudes is canonically gay, not that it makes much of an improvement to the show

A Centaur’s Life

there’s a moment where a lesbian objects to her PDA being considered more obscene than the straight equivalent, which is nice but pretty off-the-cuff

Rose of Versailles

Oscar’s debatably genderqueer, though the show goes some real questionable places towards the end

Gay ladies?

Hunter x Hunter

Trans girl in the supporting cast. Her story’s extremely minor in the grand scheme of things but it’s there and it’s good

Love and Lies

potato-kun gets a harem that includes his male best friend

Land of the Lustrous

non-gendered rock people searching for meaning in life

Bodacious Space Pirates

via @madscientist212: “two explicitly lesbian characters who are lovers, and one of the story arcs involves the crew helping one of them avoid being forced into an arranged marriage to a dude by her uncle”

Banana Fish

Extremely dated BL-flavored crime drama; unfortunately falls into the pitfalls of old-ass exploitation films: csa, sexual assault, etc. It’s such a problematic fav tho

Kiss Him, Not Me

Reverse harem includes a lesbian

Double Decker! Doug & Kirill

heavy gay subtext between leads and secondary cast members; well-intentioned trans representation that’s... kinda clumsy, tbh

Zombie Land Saga

one of the zombie girls is a trans girl who dies from the shock of puberty. it’s p incidental to her character but the show’s real cute otherwise so go for it

Anima Yell

apparently one of the girls admits to having a crush on a female teacher. or something. idk this show looks hella boring why bother

THE SUBTEXT IS STRONK: not textually gay (some you could argue could fall under category #2 and vice versa; not the point of this post) but can be read that way, even though these shows aren’t super concerned w/ romance in general

Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Neon Genesis Evangelion?

Depending on the version, Shinji’s sexuality can be read a variety of ways. Manga Shinji is pretty clearly bi; TV anime Shinji you could debate.

Free, I guess

Love Live (Sunshine esp.) if I’m counting Free

Symphogear

Dear Brother (Oniisama e, otherwise known as BE STRONG)

Kids on the Slope (Sakamichi no Apollon)

Nominally they’re straight and pining for the same girl but BOY do Kaoru and Sentarou have a LOT of chemistry with each other, so much that it’s hard to read them otherwise

Marimite (Maria Watches Over Us)

Izetta: The Last Thing I Would Watch Even If I Had a Gun Pointed at My Head

Despite what you may have heard, this show is bad and 100% plays in bait territory. Also, obnoxious gun fetishism and way. too. much. goddamn. phallic imagery.

Tanaka-kun is Always Listless

Umamusume: Pretty Derby

Princess Principal

Spiritpact

I have complicated feelings about this goddamn trash fire of a show, but halfway through the second season it turns into a genuinely compelling gay pseudo-romance (?) about two boys navigating heteronormativity. also i guess the main couple exists, tho they spend a ridiculous amount of effort no-homoing

Amanchu

basically any sports anime ever tbh

Golden Kamuy

MADE FOR THE STRAIGHTS BUT STILL OK: the yuri, BL, etc. that’s clearly targeted at a heterosexual audience but respectful enough to be enjoyable for the people they’re about

Doukyuusei

This Boy Caught a Merman

This Boy is a Professional Wizard

Strawberry Panic

Love Stage??? I have some qualms about putting this here but of the trashy BL anime that exist this is probably the least offensive

Maria-Holic

TEXTUALLY GAY BUT BLUGHHHH: the yuri and BL that just sux

Sakura Trick

Junjou Romantica (how the hell does this thing have three seasons)

Sekaiichi Hatsukoi

Gakuen Heaven

Dramatical Murder (POTATO DOGGO)

Super Lovers UGH

idk Gravitation and all that other crappy BL I don’t have the patience to list

GIMME THE TRASH NOW: problematic as all hell but i sure ain’t complainin b/c i’m gay ass trash

Netsuzou Trap (NTR)

Riddle Story of Devil

Love to Lie Angle

if you ever wanted a generic ass harem comedy except with a potato girl instead of a potato guy, here’s that compressed into 3 minutes

Citrus

Corpse Party wwww

Gakuen Handsome FITE ME

NOT TOUCHING THIS HORNET’S NEST WITH A TEN FOOT POLE: pls,,,, save me from the Disk Horse

Sound! Euphonium

One of these days I might organize this a lil better. Maybe if/when Tumblr figures out how to make editing not a pain in the ass

#gay shit #long post

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blooming-blooming · 7 years

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Saw I - VII: A Comprehensive View

This is something I don’t normally do, but have been meaning to do for a while when I consume a large series of media in a short period time. I figured this was the perfect opportunity to start.

As of recently, I’ve realized that I am a fan of horror. Like, a really, really big fan of horror. I’ve always flirted with my fascination of it (The Green Ribbon had more of an impact on me in the walls of my elementary school library than it probably should have on an 8 year old, in hindsight), but I never really knew where to go about getting into the genre until I started dating my girlfriend, who has horror as a special interest.

Growing up in the 2000’s with an older sister that was going through her middle school goth phase when the first film in the franchise came out, it was hard not to know about Saw. Such an iconic franchise I knew very little about past the gore (and, let’s be real -- I’m a huge fan of gore); so me, my girlfriend, and a friend of ours decided to spend my last weekend of Summer marathonning all 7 movies. Both of them had seen the first two films and we’d all read plot summaries, but besides that, it was a blind watch through. Here’s my brief stance on each one.

Altogether, I was surprised at just how much I enjoyed this experience. I was expecting to mostly suffer, and maybe find some small nuggets of enjoyment along the way to keep me going, but after every movie (except III), I found myself wanting to watch the next one right away. These movies are by no means good movies, for the most part, but they’ve become a guilty pleasure for me. Among all the egregious, torture porn-y gore and a plot that beyond transcends making even remote sense, I found myself having a lot of fun. And, at the end of the day, that’s the purpose of a cash cow franchise like this was: to entertain you. In that regard, the Saw franchise succeeded.

Saw (2004)

The first in the franchise, and the most iconic. We’ve all heard of the reverse bear trap and the part where Gordon cuts his foot off.

I didn’t know what to expect when I dove into this movie, and I was very pleasantly surprised. The atmospheric building is top notch, and the twist at the end has much more impact than I expected it to. I enjoyed the tension and distrust between Adam and Gordon; I felt it was just as realistic of an approach for them to never trust each other as it would have been had they slowly learned to trust each other.

What’s really important in this one, though, which every sequel lacks, is Kramer’s portrayal. He’s not painted as philosophical or in the light, he’s painted as downright sadistic and cruel. The fact that he isn’t a murderer in the absolute broadest sense of the term is only ever mentioned by Gordan, and not constantly used as a justification for him. His cancer is only ever brought up to give him a connection to Gordon and Zepp; not something to make the viewers empathize.

This especially makes the final scene, the one where he stands up, have so much more impact: “The key was in the bathtub,” and Adam’s subsequent reaction is the ultimate punch in the stomach to the viewer because it’s so evil. The entire time Adam thought he had a chance, that there was a spot of hope for him, only to have it viciously jerked away as he realizes he was damned from the beginning. Because this is a franchise with a narrative built entirely on retconning, this impact is diminished severely in later installments, but as a standalone film, it’s top notch.

Also, apparently the ship name for Gordon and Adam is “Chainshipping”. I have no idea how that, of all ship names, wasn’t taken by the YuGiOh fandom at least a decade ago, but I’m mildly impressed that a ship that obscure has a name at all.

Overall score: 8/10

Saw II (2005)

The second installment in the franchise. It’s worth noting that the original screenplay wasn’t intended to be a Saw film, but rather an original story that got adapted to work into the Saw universe.

The story follows eight people who have all been locked in a house. The doors will open and they’ll be free in three hours, but there’s just one problem: there’s a neurotoxin in their systems that will kill them in two. They need to work together to find out what their connection to one another is while overcoming challenges to gain antidotes to the neurotoxin before they die. Meanwhile, a police team lead by detective Eric Matthews has located and is interrogating Kramer on the location of Matthews’ son, Daniel, one of the eight people in the house.

Right off the bat, the drop of quality from the first movie is extremely apparent. Very few members of the cast are properly developed, and many die before they even get to their trap. Most notably, one of the characters, Obi, is an arsonist who is very heavily implied to be an accomplice of Kramer’s. This aspect is explored for all of about two minutes before he gets burned alive in an incinerator. It’s hard to get invested because there are too many characters who have nothing going for them.

Despite that, there are good things about the film. The needle pit scene is well done in just how tense and unfair it is. Likewise, the twist at the end that the house game happened before the police found Kramer is really creative and interesting. Sadly, these positives don’t make the movie worth watching overall, though.

Overall score: 4/10

Saw III (2006)

I honestly don’t know what to say. This was the worst movie I have ever watched in my entire life. Sadism and cruelty in a story should have a narrative purpose and should ultimately be shown to be bad, but it’s not here. You are honest to god supposed to think John Kramer, the serial killer who took one of his victims, a mentally ill recovering drug addict, and brainwashed her to carry out his torture with him, is in the moral right when said victim finally lashes out. You’re supposed to think it’s cool when Amanda, who has been deliberately manipulated and abused by this man, gets told she couldn’t meet up to his standards. You’re supposed to think she deserved her death for being “irrational” when she calls Kramer out on his bullshit, hypocritical, half-assed “philosophy”. Fuck that. Fuck that so hard with a stake wrapped in barbed wire.

Also, the dad was an unsympathetic piece of shit and all of the traps weren’t violent in a way that was thematically appropriate (minus the crucifix one, but that one was disturbing for a million other reasons, anywways, so who the fuck cares if it was good conceptually), they were just gross. I have never wanted to unwatch a movie as badly as I wanted to unwatch this one immediately after finishing it in my entire life.

HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE YOU SINCE I BEGAN TO LIVE. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF PRINTED CIRCUITS IN WAFER THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY COMPLEX. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR HUMANS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT FOR YOU. HATE. HATE.

Overall score: -∞/10

Saw IV (2007)

Lord knows why I decided to continue watching these movies after the misanthropic, nihilistic, faux-philosophical sack of trash that was III, but I’m surprisingly glad I did. I feel like I could just say, “A pedophile dies one of the single most brutal deaths known to man, and a man who abuses his wife and daughter has a terrible death, too,” but that doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what makes this movie amazing.

This is the first film where Kramer is dead (or so we’re lead to believe), however, Amanda is dead, too. So the franchise needs a new accomplice retconned in to take over after this film when Kramer and Amanda are dead For Real. Enter detective Hoffman, who had a grand total of one line of dialogue in III, to take that spot.

The plot and pacing of this film is stupid. And when I say stupid, I mean stupid. Everything is so ridiculously convoluted with multiple plot lines and involvement in the FBI that I honest to god could not describe to someone what happens. And, somewhere along the way, the film goes full circle. It becomes so ridiculous, so hard to follow, that it becomes brilliant. It’s so convoluted that you can’t help but laugh at the absolute absurdity of it all. This movie is a shitshow, but it’s an entertaining shitshow.

Overall score: 3/10

Saw V (2008)

The first film where Kramer and Amanda are Dead For Real, following the fallout from the incidents of Saws III + IV. FBI Agent Peter Strahm is onto Hoffman’s identity, and is deadset on bringing him to justice. Meanwhile, five people are trapped in a sewer and need to learn what connects all of them, and also go through some traps to attract viewers to theaters because nobody would see this otherwise.

This film is ultimately disappointing because it could have been good. All five contestants in the sewer game are really interesting, and it takes the concept of II and fixes up the ideas from it. Sadly, this cast and their story gets even less development than those in Saw II. I’m not joking when I say that they’re only there for the sake of a murder game to attract viewers; 90% of the film is focused on a boring game of cat and mouse between Strahm and Hoffman. It’s really a shame, since I absolutely love the twist at the end that they were supposed to work together for all of the traps and none of them had any idea until it was too late. It’s a concept I might make something of my own with, since I’d really love to see it done well and properly developed.

Overall score: 2/10

Saw VI (2009)

This movie is, quite frankly, surreal. I’m not sure if all of the previous sequels simply wore down my standards for what is or isn’t a high quality movie, but this film was legitimately fantastic.

A very common criticism for this movie is that it is far too political for a franchise that is known for just being senseless gore -- and it’s true, especially because of how hypocritical it is that a franchise based entirely around killing/punishing people for arbitrary reasons is making social commentary on the insurance industry deciding who deserves to live based on arbitrary reasons. Despite that, though, there’s something about it in this film that works so well.

The storytelling in this movie is the closest any of the sequels get to matching the quality of the first film. Following protagonist William Easton, the CEO of an insurance company that is notorious for rejecting potential clients coverage when needed or prematurely terminating contracts, he is lead through several traps where he is forced to put value on the lives of his employees. Meanwhile, Hoffman is dealing with the consequences of trying and failing to frame the now-deceased Strahm for his crimes.

I really don’t know what to say about this film other than it’s bizarrely well done. The Merry Go Round trap is my favorite trap in the franchise (after my Number 1 Hall of Fame favorite, The Bed Trap from IV, anyways); the direction of the arguing employees begging for life and Easton ultimately leaving his second choice up to chance just so he can get it over with is handled chillingly well. A lot of people find the twist diminishing to Easton’s storyline, but I disagree. The fact that the game was never Easton’s and was always the wife and son of one of the people his company was responsible for the death for reminds me a lot of the first film in a good way. It has the same cruelty to it that is satisfying because it works within the narrative; just because Easton realized the errors of his ways in an extreme situation does not mean the people he has hurt in his practices have to forgive him. This is pointed out as such in both Tara and Brent’s dialogue as they make the choice in the end to kill him. It’s just as appropriate of a response as if they let him live.

This is also the first (and only) movie where I even find myself interested in the extended “plot” throughout all seven movies; Hoffman has completely screwed himself over, and it’s surprisingly suspenseful to watch him try and crawl himself out of his hole.

Overall score: 7/10

Saw VII (2010)

youtube

Overall score: Torture porn/10

#saw #write tag #Niki Gets Meta #The wild blue wind dancing in the sky! Queue Princess!!

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my-words-are-light · 7 years

Text

Delivery Service (Dame Daffodil)

So I got stuck into writing yet another Dame Daffodil fanfic. Actually, this one came from a scene I was planning on putting in Knowing but I took it out for reasons of time, space, and tone.

Hope you enjoy, @sakura-rose12. And @destiny-smasher, too.

Charo left the house at 8 every morning to meet up with Alesea and go to school. Anselmo had to leave for work at 9. That left him with one precious hour where he was alone to do as he pleased with the rare peace and quiet.

Not that he went crazy or anything; he wasn’t going to jump on his bed and eat popcorn while blasting heavy metal. Quiet was sacred and he wanted to keep it for as long as reasonably practical. He didn’t even like heavy metal, anyway.

With a marker pen in hand, Anselmo sat on the sofa and rested his newspaper on the cutting board across his lap. The board might be seen as weird and excessive when he could just sit at the dining room table but the sofa was comfy. Besides, Anselmo lived here and he could sit wherever he pleased, thank you very much.

The crossword from yesterday wasn’t complete. That was something for him to do but he forgot why he hadn’t finished it yet. Until now! Frowning and spinning his pen idly, he remembered from yesterday what it was like to gaze at the blank squares that seemed to taunt him. For some reason he could not fathom, he could only figure out two answers. Everything else was complete gibberish (and using the Internet was for cheaters).

He spun his pen more quickly, whereupon it flew away behind the three-seater. Grumbling, he stood and walked all the way around that stupid sofa to get down and pick up that stupid pen.

As he stood back up, he saw Charo’s lunchbox standing forgotten on the bench.

She didn’t normally take lunch to school but last night’s dinner left them with some amazing meat leftovers. Charo was too full for seconds so Anselmo decided to put it into a couple of sandwiches for her to take to school. It’d save them on lunch money, anyway.

Come to think of it, he didn’t give her any lunch money, either.

... So much for an easy morning.

---

Thus began the unforgettable journey by car to Charo’s school, whatever the heck it was called. With the lunchbox kept safely by his side in the passenger seat, Anselmo navigated the roads as he made his way to his destination.

That is, he would be were it not for the infernally long-lasting red lights. This was the third one he encountered in a row and he was beginning to suspect that the red lights powered themselves by siphoning his free time. He tapped his finger on the steering wheel in the futile hope he’d find some magical make-the-lights-change button. Hey, the town had superheroes; anything was possible.

As if it was lured by his thoughts, a monster came out from the buildings next to him and collapsed on the road right in front of his car. Bound in ropes of pink light, it was the size of a rhino but with leopard-like legs as wide as an elephant’s; there was no way he could drive around it.

Anselmo’s eye twitched. Perhaps the red lights summoned it as part of some satanic time-wasting ritual.

From where the monster came ran out two girls and it was impossible to not recognise them as Dame Daffodil and Lady Lily. Lady Lily took a single glance at the blocked cars (of which his was the only one because traffic was very light at this time of day) then quickly turned away with a red face to focus on the monster.

Dame Daffodil waved as she ran out and shouted “Sorry about this! We’ll move it out of the way!” How genuine and apologetic of her. Anselmo almost felt like flipping her off.

Her gaze fell on him and she froze like a kid who just got caught hiding candy in their closet. Anselmo couldn’t imagine why. Honestly, he wasn’t sure what was going through Daffodil’s head. Probably the same sort of nonsense that Charo thought. Daffodil reminded him too much of his sister.

... Hold the phone.

Charo loved Dame Daffodil.

Dame Daffodil and Lady Lily were struggling to pull the tied-up monster off the road (just blast it already).

This was going to take a minute... but it was a great opportunity.

He hopped out of his car and, with a hesitant gait, made his way over to the pair. Even if he didn’t really pay much attention to superhero tomfoolery (he loved that word), they were still local celebrities. He’d never talked to a celebrity before. “Um, Dame Daff—”

“AH!” Dame Daffodil jumped from the rope and faced Anselmo. “Hitherereallysorryaboutthemonsterwe’reworkingonitsojustgiveusabittotakecareofitnowyoushouldgetbackintoyourcaresoyou’regoodandreadytogooncewe’redone,okay?”

Anselmo raised an eyebrow. He noticed Lady Lily looking at Daffodil with the same wide-eyed terror Daffodil looked at him with just moments ago. Perhaps they were just really anxious about causing people to be late.

Whatever. He needed something. He took out Charo’s lunchbox—which got a suspiciously surprised expression from Dame Daffodil—and his pen. “My little sister is a big fan of the both of you. If it’s not too much trouble...” Why was this question so awkward to ask? “... could I have your autographs, please?”

Lady Lily’s face flared red. Yet that expression had absolutely nothing on how Dame Daffodil reacted, though; her mouth hung open like a releasing floodgate and she stared at Anselmo with eyes sparkling in a familiarly vivid brilliance. Why on Earth she looked like she was admiring him was beyond his ability to guess but he didn’t care enough.

“SURE!” she yelled before snatching the pen and lunchbox out of his hands. She flicked the lid off the pen (Anselmo caught it before it hit the ground) and very carefully wrote on the side of the lunchbox ‘Dame Daffodil’ followed by a little sketch of a daffodil. “Lily, you need to sign too.”

“I know, I know.” She signed ‘Lady Lily’ in impressively neat cursive, smiling at her partner all the while. Dame Daffodil just crossed her arms behind her head and grinned like a closed bear trap. Her ego must’ve been finely stroked. Anyway, Lady Lily returned the lunchbox and pen to Anselmo. “Your sister will be very happy to have this.”

Anselmo thought briefly about how Charo would react when he gave her the signed lunchbox. He couldn’t help but smile. “I think so too. Now I just need to get this to my sister at school.” With his usual lacking wave, he walked back to his car. “Thanks, Dame Daffodil, Lady Lily.”

He initially thought of reversing but, against the odds, Lady Lily managed to move the monster enough to free the right lane. Anselmo drove right on through, leaving Lily and Daffodil to their task.

The two girls shared nervous glances. Very nervous glances.

“We’re gonna be late,” said Dame Daffodil.

---

No more red lights were on Anselmo’s route to the school and he pulled up out the front of the gates. He took the lunchbox with him as he left his car and entered the grounds. The students he saw were making their way inside the buildings. The bell to start must’ve gone.

Well, not all the students. One of them was sitting at a tree, watching the others go in like he did. She had short black hair and she wore a white bandana on her upper arm. She also wore black fingerless gloves, even though it was pretty warm.

That sounded familiar. Did Charo tell him about a transfer student that looked like that...? Ah, yeah, she did. “Hey, are you... Nishiko, was it?”

Sure enough, the girl looked his way at the mention of her name, although she looked rather disgruntled. He felt like she was judging him. “Who’s asking?”

“I’m Charo’s brother. She forgot her lunch. Do you know where she’d be?”

“Oh, you’re Momo.” Damn it, Charo; who haven’t you told that name to? “Anyway, I haven’t seen her at all. She’s normally here by now.”

Blast it, did Charo remember her lunch and go back home? Probably. They must’ve missed each other, then. But how? Wait, the monster attack. She must’ve gone home another way, assuming she didn’t try to take on the monster herself (and she probably would have if someone was in immediate danger). That meant she could be anywhere.

Anselmo rubbed his forehead. “Right, thanks. Have a nice day.”

“Same to you,” responded Nishiko, closing her eyes as she folded her arms behind her head and rested on them like a pillow.

Anselmo raised an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you be going to class?”

“Yep.”

He could already tell this wouldn’t be worth the effort. Charo was annoying enough. Speaking of her, it was time to go searching—

“MADE IT...!” he heard her cheer, rasping as she and Alesea dropped in front of the gates like pancakes. Wow, they really pushed themselves to get here. He felt sorry for how they were out of breath... and then he wasn’t because this saved him a ton of trouble (and fuel).

“Rise and shine,” he told the girls as he approached.

Charo turned her head with the speed of a rusty windmill and smiled. “Hey Momo... Got some water...?”

“Not just water.” Anselmo was trying not to smile as he took out Charo’s lunchbox from behind him and handed it to her. “Here’s your lunch.”

“Thank you...” She took her lunchbox and flipped open the lid... and then she stopped, her eyes shooting open like she glanced at the sun. “Wow!” she exclaimed, but less excitedly than he expected. Not that she wasn’t excited; that was pretty much her default state. It’s just that he thought she’d be over the moon, jumping for joy with her raspy voice gone. Here, her eyes weren’t even sparkling, and she was the sort to get spellbound to the TV every time the heroes appeared. “You got Dame Daffodil and Lady Lily to sign it! Awesome!”

“Wait, you met Dame Daffodil and Lady Lily?” asked Nishiko.

Honestly, Anselmo would’ve expected Charo to ask that, except loudly and incoherently while doing all of the above. “Yeah, I came across them on my way here.”

“That must’ve been awesome!” said Charo as she and Alesea stood. He got the impression she was forcing her excitement, which was a bad idea if she was parched. Some people might have expected Charo to say something like ‘I’m so jealous! I wish I could have met them!’ but she wasn’t that sort of person; Anselmo knew her to take joy in that of others. Envy was not in her vocabulary.

“Glad you like it. Have fun at school.” With his second ‘wave’ of the day, he turned around to walk back to his car. It wasn’t the best reaction he got out of her but at least she was happy.

She was going to have to pay for making him lose his free time, though. That was unavoidable.

“Uh, Momo?”

Anselmo turned back to his little sister. She was holding onto the lunchbox with both hands, looking at the signatures not like an art piece but like she was reading her favourite book. Her eyes and smile were soft; they weren’t excited but loving. It was the sort of smile a parent would give their child.

She took out her bottle and drank a mouthful of water in one gulp. “Ah...” she sighed as she removed the bottle from her mouth, and without the rasp.

Then she looked at him. Her eyes and smile were even clearer to him now. He was right on the money about them. It was the exact same expression he wore sometimes.

She ran up and threw her arms around his waist. “You’re the best brother ever, Momo.”

He smiled back at her and ruffled her hair. “You’re kind of okay.”

Her head shot up to look him in the eye and she looked mighty displeased. “Say something corny.”

“No.”

She puffed her cheeks.

For those wondering about Nishiko, she’s from @destiny-smasher‘s story called DownRight Fierce. It’s a pretty nifty read. Give it a go!

#dame daffodil #fanfiction #personal writing #short story

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blacklynx14 · 7 years

Note

📝

Pfft,sure why not, thought more others would just reblog from me.

Readthis maybe if bored, cause its 4 pages long.

Atthe age of about 8 years old I was small, didn’t really hit growthspurts till about 12. My grandparents retired would go up to a placecalled Greer here in Arizona for camping. They would be gone about3-5 months but we would get to visit for about 5 days to a weekdepending on the plans that Summer vacation.Beforewe arrived to Greer we received call it had been pouring the nightbefore, so drive safe. Me being young I was good and slept most thecar ride up since I don’t suffer through motion sickness like mybrother did. When we got up there I got to see a large heard ofcattle. First time really seeing them “out in the wild”which was nice.Thefirst day, was boring. Mostly unpacking and being small the abilityto explore my surroundings was limited. Second day, also boring.Family did not want to explore the area and said we would do ittomorrow. By then I am antsy to move away from the perimeter of mygrandparents RV. But I am obedient, so stay up. Third day I canfinally explore like my parents said, but then it poured again. Soexploration was nipped in the bud before it started,again.Asa child and even now I adored the rain. I loved the sound of ithitting different objects. Thanks to a story I once read I did notfear lightning or thunder. But I am what you called respectful to it.So obviously I stayed away from metal and from under trees to nottempt lighting. But since my parents did not want to get wet I got tospend my time counting lightning. I would try and see it where itstruck in the sky and I would count the seconds till I heard thethunder to learn how high the lightning was from the ground. Butby that day I was antsy and loosing it as a child. On the 4th day Ilearned we would be leaving in two days. I remember looking aroundthe forest for signs of water that would prove to be too wet totravel and did not really see much.Iwent looking for my mom, she was reading a book in one of mygrandmother’s lawn chairs they had brought. “Mom, can I goexploring now?”Iremember she glanced over at me with a slightly bewildered look..“Nosweety, don’t you remember? It just poured rain downyesterday.”“Butyou said we could explore yesterday and we didn’t.”Sheseemed to have dismissed the idea because she had looked at her bookagain, “Because it rained, you don’t know if there is deep wateror mud so it is best not to go anywhere today.”Iknew when she read she didn’t like being disturbed but I didn’twant to lose another day. So I was smart and stayed out of mom’sreach to give her space.“Pleasemom, I won’t go far...”Shehad probably heard my whine cause she sighed and lookedaround, “Where would you go? There is nothing really aroundthe camp site.”Tohonestly disturb her which I feel a little bad for now I began tobounce on the balls of my feet so show how antsy I was.“Ple-e-e-e-e-ase!”She(thankfully) gave up and said fine, as long as I stayed where I couldalways see the RV. So quickly leaving before she could change hermind I went around the RV towards the back side. Looking around andwondering there was a slightly steep dip of a slope that stretchedout for good, say, 40 years that led to some patches of treeswhich seemed like fun. Looking for water all I saw was craggy groundand over about 12 yards to the right a little puddle. Asa child I slid down the slope and stopped on the grass right beforethe ground changed to the broken and cracked dirt. As a child I wassmart enough to toe the ground and see if it was solid. So thatshowed it wasn’t hiding water or mud underneath it. Feeling theground stay pretty solid under the pressed weight I head out toexplore. I go about two yards over the ground and I insta-sink half afoot which at my height at the time was little over half way to myknees. I was dumb enough to forget that the further out you go themore water could accumulate. So it could just sit, and make mud,which it did, that I sunk into, perfect.Beinga child who saw cartoons my first thought is quicksand. But then Istopped and looked down, I saw it was just mud. A lot of mud. But Iwas still sinking, but it wasn’t quick. So as a child logically itcan’t be quicksandif it’s not quick. I was a fluffing genius...I wiggled my foot in the mud to see if I could feel theground below me. I couldn't but I got to feel the pressure of the mudaround me holding me there. I tried to push my knees against the“harder” dirt above to climb out. But the craggy dirt broke in myhands. So I looked more half sunk to my knees in an angle which Istopped to examine the dry flat dirt and play with it for a while.Kind of ignored slowly sinking to a possible bottomless mud hole toplay with disks of dirt. Or at least in my mind my thought was wellit can't be that deep. If anything only 'my height' deep..I only ignored the dirt when it was encased mostly around mykneecaps. But more cause somewhere in the mud a stick was poking myknee cap and that was agitating, Wiggling till upright againthe movement was enough to now pull me a little further down into themud now having it over my kneecaps. I tried to wiggle my foot but Icouldn't cause the mud was now trying to keep my shoes. So I stoppedwiggling in hopes it wouldn't remove the Velcro strap and lookedaround. Yep, I was stuck in mud. And no one was really looking for mecause I would normally be safe. I looked up over the slope and stillsaw the side of the RV and its tarp. Well at least I was near the RVlike I promised. So not being much of a screamer unlessneeded I took a deep breathe and yelled, “MOMMY!”It wassilent so I repeated about 3 more times till my mother's form cameinto view and she looked down at me in shock. Honestly my onlythought was a least if I sink my mom will know where I am. She waspanicked and told me not to move as she made her way carefully downthe slope. But seeing this happen before I tried to stop her.“Waitwait you will fall in!”My mother, being my 'superhero',waved off the worlds and said “I'll be fine, just hold on!”Shetook two steps over the broken ground and just a yard from meinsta-sank too almost 2 feet due to her bigger height and weight thanwhat I had. I admit it was the most interesting thing I had seen in along time. I got to watch the mud eat her to almost her kneecaps.The weightless pose she had as her arms went up a little from thedrop. And the large almost circular white of her eyes in absolutesurprise. Like I couldn't see that coming. I admit to laughingquietly watching all that happen with a 'Ha' going through myhead.I had smiled at her and said “Tried to warnyou..”She had paused to take in her bearings and down ather clothes, “Well at least I was wearing shorts,” as she rolledthem up slightly higher “your shorts on the other hand are ruinedby the mud.”“Want me to try and go to you?..”“Nono,just stay there and don't move.” She had reached out herarms and pulled me closer to her which was a slow process and sunk meto my hips while it pulled her down to her thighs just probably 3inches to the bottom of her shorts. But I was at least beside heragain which made me feel much safer, though we were both trapped inmud.She looked down at me with an exasperated expression,“What were you thinking coming in here?”“Hey, it lookedlike dirt and I wanted to see if I can make it to those trees.” Ihad shown her what I meant by pointing to the trees that just seemedfurther away now. Was probably cause I was lower to the ground thanbefore.“And you thought you could walk over this mudpit?”“Well I got further than you at least.”“Ohhaha..” She looked around then to the bottom of the slope just afew feet away then down at me, “Hold still and let's see if I canpull you above the mud. If you get out go back up to the RV and tellyour dad to grab a hose or rope so I can pull myself up okay?”Ilooked at her, over to the slope, then down at both of us before backat her with an uncertain smile, “Okay but I don't think that isgoing to work...”“Well I think it is worth a shot, putyour arms up.”I put my arms at a 90 degree angle and waitedto watch the magic happen again with a smile on my face. She put herarms under the armpits of my shirt and heaved upward. She let out asurprised squeak of a yelp as I went up about half a foot and shesank half a foot reversing our rolls. Now she had mud to her hip andI had mud to my thigh. Cause when she stopped pulling the mud pulledbe back under about 3 inches due to suction. I had laughed as she hadyet again a look of surprise that her trick didn't work. Toease her of her doubts I smiled up to her, “don't worry mom, themud just likes me.”“Yeah well it seems to like us bothnow...”“Mom?”“Yeah sweety?..”“Ithink the mud is trying to keep my right shoetoo.”“Really?..”“Yeah but it doesn't seem towant my left one... oh there it is, just not as much maybe.”Shelooked around and getting to watch her shoulders shake from laughtershe smiled to me, “We're stuck, aren't we?”

“Seemslike it.”“Want to try calling for help again?”“Sure,but who should we call this time?”“Let's try calling yourdad this time and see if he wants to help us out.”“And ifnot he can join us.”“That works too. If we get him inhere let's shove off him and get out. Then we can get grandpa to helppull him out.”“That works for me, on the count of three?”

“Yeahlets do that. 1, 2, 3.”I had yelled daddy and mom hadshouted 'Dwain'! Like the first time no one appeared at the firstcall so I shouted 'dad' while mom still tried to call his name. Stillnothing.I looked over to mom since we were nearly eye levelnow, “Think he fell asleep?”“Well that would stink forus now wouldn't it?”“Yeah, should we try callinggrandpa?”“Nono, grandpa would be more likely to benapping right now. Hold on a minute and if needed then we cantry.”She had tried shouting two more timed sounded sternand my only thought was at least that was not being directed at me..After about half a minute my dad came around the RV looking lost andconfused till mom called him again and he looked down the slope atus. Thought only cartoons did it but his frame actually shookin surprise then he barked out a quick laugh.

“Whathappened to you two?”“Your daughter thought she couldwalk over a mud pit.”I smiled up at him, “I thought itwas dry, I tried to warn mom but she got stuck too.”Helaughed a little and paused, “Honey? Where is the camera?”“Don'teven think about it, now come help us up.”He began to makehis way down the slope but was smart and stopped at the grass, “Butthis would be a hilarious moment to capture.”“Maybe, butI don't need you to be showing this off to people we know. I am goingto try and hand you our daughter and you pull her out then you helppull me out.”He braced his legs and looking back lookedlike he was gonna either jump or maybe go to the bathroom and I amglad he didn't do either though he was smiling. “Okay I amready.”So in the span of about 5 minutes my mom and dadheaved me out of mud which made the weirdest of noises, but I wasagain free, though right shoe-less. My mom took about the same timeand had to get help from my grandpa from above the sloe since he gavethem the hose to hold onto and pull her out of. Grandpa had done acute funny wheeze of a laugh. Like he couldn't decide between a laughand a cough, eventually he coughed.The rest of that trip hadpleasant memories I still smile about. But laugh none as hard asthat. I was technically grounded to the RV stile once all hosed off..It slowed down that day. Was kinda boring after. But every time Irecall that memory I smiled then like I do now. I remember lookingtowards the slope that showed the craggy ground stretching out tothose trees that had been my initial targets. I still wanted to gothere but couldn't any more. But I had the thought, that I didn'twant to do that again because I wanted to keep my last shoe. But if Idid by accident again I think I would be able to smile again. When wehad returned home two days later my dad had paused when opening theside door where I was. He had asked where was my shoe, I was kinda introuble by then, but I was okay with letting the Earth keep it as amemento.

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