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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Field Medicine - on ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Jiang Cheng didn’t really like change.

He thought it was a rather justified opinion, as things went – he’d gone through far too much change in his life, staring from the moment Wei Wuxian appeared in his life through to studying at the Cloud Recesses, the indoctrination camp, the loss of his parents and sect, the Sunshot Campaign, and now, even after it was all supposed to be over, Wei Wuxian’s recent change in behavior and personality…

Subconsciously, Jiang Cheng clung to the few things that seemed to remain the same.

Jiang Yanli, for one. No matter what she’d been through, what they’d all been through, she was still his jiejie, warm and wonderful and caring, a refuge from all troubles, and it was so easy to forget how much had changed for her, too. Her engagement to Jin Zixuan had been broken years ago, ages ago, before everything happened and the world irrevocably changed, and yet somehow whenever he had imagined her married, imagined her wedding day, he had always seen her surrounded by the gold of Lanling Jin.

Maybe that was why he was quite so shocked when it was Lan Xichen – First Jade of Lan, Sect Leader Lan, Zewu-jun, the second of the Venerated Triad – who came to him with Jiang Yanli’s arm tucked in his and asked if it would be possible to arrange a date for their marriage.

“To…each other?” he asked, a little stupidly, and then realized how much of an ass he was making of himself. “Uh, of course! I – uh – that is – when did you even meet?”

Jiang Yanli hid a laugh in her sleeve. Lan Xichen was more polite, but there was amusement in his eyes as he recounted the story of how Jiang Yanli had been assisting with medical care during the Sunshot Campaign, how he had been injured on one of his missions, how she had helped him, how they had taken to each other, how he had asked and she had agreed –

When he finished explaining, he lifted up her hand and pressed his lips to it, and for the first time in Jiang Cheng’s life he saw his sister blush and stutter like a girl in love, delight written in every line of her.

His heart gave a pang, and then melted.

She deserved it. She deserved it more than anyone.

“We decided to wait until after the war had ended to tell you,” Jiang Yanli told him, and Jiang Cheng understood. “But it has, now, and so…”

“It’s what you want?” he asked her, just to be sure. “I’d always thought, you know…but this, this makes you happy?”

“It does,” his sister said, and there was no doubt in her tone.

“In that case, of course we’ll set the date,” Jiang Cheng said, and reached out to grasp Lan Xichen’s hands – his new brother-in-law’s hands. “You’d better take good care of her, you hear me? Or else we’ll skin you.”

Wei Wuxian would have thought of a better threat, he thought. Wei Wuxian ought to be here for this, for something of this magnitude, but he hadn’t shown his face here today, even though he’d promised he’d be there, just as he promised, just as he’d failed to appear for days –

He was probably still healing from the final battle, Jiang Cheng forcefully reminded himself, even though actually Wei Wuxian had been fairly obviously up and about for a while. He certainly seemed to find enough energy to go to the wine shops to guzzle down liquor even if he didn’t find time to help out with anything else.

Still. Jiang Cheng wasn’t the one who’d used demonic cultivation to save the day; he shouldn’t judge.

“When would you like to announce the engagement?” he asked, and then frowned, abruptly remembering some gossip that had drifted past his ears. “There’s a celebration in the Nightless City tonight, but I heard…”

He hesitated.

“What?” Jiang Yanli asked, her brow furrowing. “What’s wrong, A-Cheng?”

“I’ve probably heard wrong,” he said, even though he didn’t think he had. “And anyway it’s just rumors, rumors I discounted at once, because I don’t think Sect Leader Jin would – I mean, certainly not without telling us in advance – well -”

“What did you hear?” Lan Xichen asked. There was no judgement in his voice at Jiang Cheng’s stuttering, merely quiet, steady concern.

He’d be a good brother-in-law.

“I heard,” Jiang Cheng said reluctantly, “that he…that he was thinking of proposing that we reestablish the old engagement. Jiejie and Jin Zixuan.”

He’d heard that Sect Leader Jin planned to surprise them with the proposal in the middle of dinner. Anyone else and he would have dismissed the entire thing out of hand for sheer shamelessness, but with Sect Leader Jin he really couldn’t say for sure.

“I would say no, of course,” JIang Yanli said, and the quickness and surety of her answer relieved him.

“I don’t doubt that,” he said, flashing a brief smile at them both. “But I don’t know if we have time to announce it to everyone before the celebration, and if we let the Jin sect ask and then reject them, they might…”

“It would not be outside the realm of possibility for Sect Leader Jin to take offense for a perceived slight, such as the notion, however mistaken, that we have played him for a fool,” Lan Xichen said, frowning thoughtfully. “And being as his sect is helping to fund both of our sect’s reconstructions, that could be troublesome…I have an idea, actually, if you don’t mind being the subject of a little gossip.”

“Gossip? For a good purpose?” Jiang Cheng said, his voice dry without even meaning to be. “That’d be a nice change.”

“In that case, I’ll leave the two of you now to go set it up. Leave it in my hands,” Lan Xichen said with a smile, releasing Jiang Yanli’s hand and bowing far deeper than he had to – Jiang Cheng made an immediate sound of protest and tried to catch him, but he carried on – and then he left, striding away purposefully.

“You’re going to get married,” Jiang Cheng said to his older sister, abruptly excited, and pulled her close. “Oh, jiejie…!”

“I’m happy,” she said, and she looked it – she looked radiant. “I’m so happy, A-Cheng!”

“You deserve every happiness in the world,” Jiang Cheng said. “Wei Wuxian and I will plan you the best wedding, jiejie, you’ll see – oh, where is he? He should be here by now! He’ll miss the celebration tonight!”

As always, he wanted to say. Just like he’s missed everything else to do with the reconstruction, with training the new disciples, with – wasn’t he supposed to help me? Didn’t he promise me to be by my side? Was all of it a lie, did he actually want my position the way mother always thought, or did he just at some point stop caring –

“He knows it’s happening,” she assured him. There was no doubt in her voice. “He’ll be there.”

“But then we won’t be able to tell him in advance…!”

“I’ll tell him it’s my fault for waiting so late to tell you, and of course it’s all Sect Leader Jin’s fault for not telling any of us what he was planning,” Jiang Yanli said. “Don’t worry, A-Cheng.”

Wei Wuxian showed up right before the banquet – without his sword, again – and Jiang Cheng wanted to tell him, but couldn’t. They were surrounded by so many people, and if people found out that Wei Wuxian hadn’t known in advance, it might suggest to them that he was distancing himself from the Jiang sect…

Which wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“Don’t act surprised,” Jiang Cheng murmured to Wei Wuxian as they walked in to be greeted by Jin Guangyao. “I’ll explain later.”

Wei Wuxian shot him a curious expression, but then they were talking with Jin Guangyao and all the sects were starting to congregate. Jin Guangshan was walking up to the main seat with an avid expression; he was likely going to start the celebration with a speech soon. There wasn’t time to say more.

What was Lan Xichen planning?

Just as Jiang Cheng thought that, Nie Mingjue, looking through the crowd from his excessive height, caught sight of Lan Xichen and strode over to his sworn brother – the entire room parted to let him pass, as usual, he was a hard man to miss – and then he said, in a voice that appeared almost unintentionally loud, “Xichen! What’s this I hear about you finally proposing? I insist you let me help plan the wedding!”

The entire room stopped paying the slightest bit of attention to anything else.

“Da-ge, please,” Lan Xichen said, although he was clearly smiling. Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell at this distance, but he would bet money that his eyes were curved up in suppressed laughter.

Nor could he blame him. Using Nie Mingjue’s horn-blast of a voice to “unintentionally” spread the information was a brilliant move – everyone knew Nie Mingjue was often over-loud, especially when he was being enthusiastic, and what was more natural than a pair of sworn brothers discussing the subject of an upcoming marriage? This way, there would not need to be any public announcement until the formal one, and Jin Guangshan could change his plans without losing face.

“It’s really not necessary,” Lan Xichen continued, pretending to be oblivious to the crowd of onlookers. If Jiang Cheng hadn’t known that he knew, he would have thought he actually was. “We’re only in the most preliminary discussions – we haven’t even set the date. We’re not even ready to announce it!”

Which is why they were going through all of this.

“Nonsense,” Nie Mingjue said. “Spare me your superstitions, Xichen. Not only would no woman in their right mind reject you, there can be no doubt that you and Mistress Jiang will be a wonderful pair, and I have every intention of drinking to your health this very night. Surely you can find someone who can calculate an auspicious date among all the sects gathered here?”

The rest of the room broke out in whispers the second Jiang Yanli was referenced, people starting to turn to stare at Jiang Cheng – Jiang Yanli, out on the balcony with the majority of the female cultivators, was temporarily spared – and at that point, Jin Guangyao materialized by his two sworn brothers’ sides, his smile a little strained (although nowhere near the abrupt scowl appearing on Jin Guangshan’s face), and their conversation dropped down to a more reasonable volume.

Jin Zixuan had something of a constipated expression on his face, too, but Jiang Cheng didn’t give one tiny bit of a damn about that – he’d had his chance. If he learned now, too late, to regret what he had lost, then that was on him. Let him go mourn in private, and leave the rest of them alone.

Jiang Cheng gave the room a mysterious smile, more a smirk really, and stepped on Wei Wuxian’s foot when his shixiong looked like he was going to say something. “You really need to start showing up on time,” he murmured, his voice low. “They agreed on it ages ago, apparently, but only told me today.”

Wei Wuxian nodded dumbly.

They might have managed to actually shock him silent, Jiang Cheng reflected, amused despite himself, and he glanced over at the Venerated Triad again – smiles on all faces, even if he did think Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue looked a bit more natural with it than poor Jin Guangyao – with the thought that they ought to be venerated for this little stunt as well as all their other strengths, and that’s when he suddenly had a moment of absolute brilliance.

“Wei Wuxian, you’re not doing anything right now, right? How about you go to Gusu as jiejie’s representative to negotiate some of the details that need to be covered with the Lan sect?” Jiang Cheng asked. “Dowries and such, that sort of thing. They’ll send someone to us, but under the circumstances we don’t want to put them to too much trouble in terms of travel right now. As sect leader, I really shouldn’t be leaving the Lotus Pier right now, but it’s not the same for you.”

Wei Wuxian was clearly unhappy with the Jiang sect recently, though Jiang Cheng did not know why; the only reasonable assumption was that the problem was with him, maybe, or may be with Wei Wuxian himself. Moreover, he knew Lan Wangji had been on Wei Wuxian’s case about the demonic cultivation, asking him time and time again to go with him to the Cloud Recesses, as if he thought there was something there that could help him…

If setting up this marriage could help convince Wei Wuxian to stop everything he was doing and take up regular cultivation once more, walk him back from the strange road he’d chosen and back to Jiang Cheng’s side, that would be – fantastic.

That was the only thing left. It would make it all perfect.

Before Wei Wuxian could demur, Jiang Cheng added, “Jiejie deserves only the best.”

Wei Wuxian folded at once, as he’d hoped.

Perfect, he thought, pleased with everything. Finally, everything, from now on, can be perfect.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #lan xichen #jiang yanli #wei wuxian #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #field medicine

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teawaffles · 3 years

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The Fugitives from the Fire: Chapter 8 / End

——It had been an absolutely bizarre day.

After Sherlock Holmes and the others had solved the case, that was what the man known to them as Jerry Dorff thought.

Presently, he was walking along a thoroughfare in the city, a piece of paper in hand. He still wore the bandages that had made him a suspect in the arson-and-murder case; as people walked past, his unusual appearance sent them casting dubious and uncomfortable glances openly in his direction.

However, he’d already grown used to such negative reactions. Paying no mind, he continued walking towards his destination, and thought back to the events that had resulted in this curious appearance of his.

——Originally, he’d been a capable businessman: one who had expanded a retail shop into a major commercial establishment. But one day, he was betrayed by a noble he’d thought of as a close friend. He was kidnapped abruptly in the dead of night, shot in a deserted area of London, burned all over while still alive, and thrown into the River Thames.

Yet he survived. After being swept downstream, he regained consciousness; somehow, he managed to climb out the river and save himself. At this point, he thought of returning home, and telling his child and his friend that he was alright—— but the moment he considered that, he stopped.

The man who’d tried to kill him was part of the nobility: an institution which wielded absolute power in this country. If that man knew he’d survived, he would attempt to eliminate him once and for all. On top of that, he could even be placing the people important to him in harm’s way.

As such, the man relinquished everything. He gave up proving that he’d survived, a life of peace, as well as the chance to see his family and friends again. From then on, he never revealed his true identity to anyone, and led a solitary life in the slums under the false name Jerry.

However, just the other day, a mysterious letter had arrived at the inn where he was staying. Written on it was his real name, and some simple instructions.

To summarise its contents: an incident would break out at a nearby inn; he was to get himself involved as one of the suspects; after which, the famous detective Sherlock Holmes would solve the case. Then, once the man had seen that the case was resolved, he was to go to this address.

And in reality, in the case involving the famous detective, the man had indeed been caught up as a suspect.

At first, when he read the letter, he was wrought with unease that his survival had finally been discovered. But if that had been the case, it would’ve been an assassin rather than a letter that arrived on his doorstep. As such, he surmised that at the very least, the author of the letter meant him no harm.

Moreover, the occurrence and resolution of the incident had happened exactly as the letter said it would; from that, it was apparent that this person had considerable foresight. Hence, powerless as he was right now, it would be mean nothing for him to disobey those instructions anyway. Having arrived at that conclusion, the man resolved to head to that address, even as apprehension took root within him.

“……Only being able to go with the flow — just like a puppet on strings, huh.”

He murmured self-abasingly, then stopped. He had reached the address written on the letter.

He was in the heart of one of London’s shopping districts. It was dusk, and the street lamps were lined up like candles on a birthday cake, casting a gentle glow all around. As usual, the passers-by cast strange looks in his direction, but the man didn’t care a whit.

Amidst the stream of people, he stood stock-still, his gaze fixed on the enormous building before him.

This was the department store he had, in the past, guided to success together with his friend. It seemed that a big incident a while back had forced the business to close. But as he soaked in its majestic atmosphere, a sense of nostalgia surged into his chest.

Nevertheless, at this point, he was no better than a recluse. No matter what end awaited this department store — the very one he had watched grow like his own child — that had nothing to do with him anymore. How was his precious family spending their days? That was immaterial to him too.

A firm resolve; and within it, an inexorable sorrow and regret. Perhaps the one who’d sent this letter was hoping to dredge up these emotions within him. If that were the case, then although he didn’t know who they were, he was certain they had rather bad taste.

Carrying a faint indignation, as well as an emptiness in his heart, the man made to leave.

Then, a little further down the street, a carriage caught his eye as it slowed to a stop.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“——Hey, William. You came to my house all of a sudden, picked me up in this carriage, then brought me all the way here — what on earth are you doing?”

As they rode together in a carriage, that was what Helena Curtis asked William James Moriarty seated across her. His elder brother Albert was seated next to him, and their youngest brother Louis held the reins in the driver’s seat.

However, both William and Albert simply responded with meaningful smiles.

“You’ll know it when you alight……. Since everything up till now, has been part of my plan.”

“………?”

She still couldn’t grasp the meaning behind his words; but for the time being, she did as he said and descended from the carriage.

Then, she found herself standing before the place where that brutal occupation had occurred several days earlier, and where she had ended up making William’s acquaintance: that very department store.

“……Maybe they’re going to unfurl a banner saying ‘Congratulations on your reopening!’ or something like that?”

Helena murmured as she gazed up at the building before her. Now, its enormity seemed almost hollow. She had thought of this store as her second home; part of her had been reluctant to see it fade away, but she also understood that there had been no other choice. For better or for worse, she was an intelligent girl.

What on earth was their purpose in bringing her here?

With that question on the tip of her tongue, Helena was just about to turn back to the carriage, when a voice came calling out to her from the side.

“……Helena?”

“——Eh?”

Her gaze shot toward the direction of the voice; there, stood a man whose face was wrapped all over in bandages. As the evening sun shone on him from behind, he looked almost like a demon from a child’s picture book.

Helena was shocked.

But it wasn’t because this suspicious-looking man had suddenly called her by name. What had taken her by surprise, was that ‘colour’.

——A warm, and slightly lonely colour, like clouds drenched in the evening sun.

It was dusk now: perhaps she had simply confused it with the sky? No, definitely not. That colour had certainly come from this man.

Then, the man seemed to have realised something all of a sudden, and turned his face away.

“Apologies. It seems I was mistaken. You reminded me of an acquaintance’s child.”

He said that as if making excuses to someone else, then turned away and tried to leave.

But Helena stared right at his back and shouted.

“Dad! It’s you, isn’t it!?”

Her voice had been clear, and imbued with a strong conviction. The girl’s plea washed over him, and the man looked down.

“……You’re mistaken. I’m not related to you.”

“That’s a lie! Your colour is the same as my dad’s! I’m absolutely sure on that!”

At this point, her voice was already trembling. With all her strength, she dashed toward him. He’d stood there with his fists clenched, and his back still turned; but finally, as if tearing himself free from everything, he spun around and knelt on one knee, hugging his daughter in his arms.

“I missed you so much……”

Helena spoke, her face buried in the front of his tattered, worn-out shirt. Even without looking at her, the man knew tears were flowing freely down her cheeks.

“……It’s been so long. And you’ve gotten so big.”

He too smiled at his daughter, no longer caring about the gazes of the people around him. Just for a moment, it was as if the bustle of the city had faded away, and the evening sun bathed the reunion of this long-separated family in its tender glow.

If only time could stop at this moment, they wouldn’t have to suffer the anguish of the impending tragedy. With that thought in mind, even as he felt a pang of regret, he pulled his daughter away from his chest.

“Helena. I’m glad I got to see you again. But, it’s no use: if he finds out I’m still alive——”

“——You need not worry about that anymore.”

Right then, William called out to him as he got off the carriage.

“……You are?”

“My name is William James Moriarty. I was fortunate enough to have made friends with Miss Helena.”

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Helena spread out her arms in joy.

“Thanks to William, I also saved Mr Kevin’s life, you know. Also, that noble, Andy — he can’t lay a hand on us anymore.”

“Is that…… true?”

From within the depths of his bandages, the man’s eyes widened, and he looked in William’s direction once again. At that, William responded with a smile full of warmth.

“This may be a bit too sudden, and perhaps you will need some time to process it, but that will not be an issue. We have completely eliminated that which has been tormenting all of you.”

“That…… How?”

“About that, please speak with your daughter in your own time after this.”

The man was more bewildered than overjoyed; but William left only those words with him, and stepped into the carriage once again. Her face brimming with smiles, Helena looked at William in the carriage, as well as Albert seated inside, and Louis in the driver’s seat.

“To everyone in the Moriarty family: truly, thank you. No matter how many times I say that, it will never be enough.”

William bowed respectfully, and then the carriage set off. As he watched the man stand there blankly, and the young girl waving at them as hard as she could, a gentle smile rose to his face.

Seeing that, Albert chuckled.

“So, is this the finishing touch?”

William nodded.

“That’s right, Albert nii-san.”

——Searching for Helena’s father, and reuniting them. That had been William’s plan this time around.

In order to pronounce judgement on Andy at the survival game, they had been looking into what the man did to Helena’s father, when William landed on the possibility that he was still alive and in hiding somewhere.

They had commenced their search right away, but it seemed the man was leading a rather inconspicuous life — his whereabouts were a mystery. Hence, William took advantage of the department store attackers who had fled from the police.

Those men were born and raised in the slums; having committed numerous petty crimes for a long time, they were well-versed in the art of escaping from the Yard. Of course, among the streets they’d grown up in, they were also familiar with the best places to evade detection. Putting it another way, one could take it that wherever these men had chosen to lay low, that same place would be perfect for Helena’s father to hide himself, seeing as he wanted to mask his existence. Hence, as soon as the fugitives holed up in one place, William would probe the surrounding area, and when he’d determined that Helena’s father was not there, he would let the fugitives catch wind of the Yard’s presence, and drive them on to their next hiding spot.

After repeating this a few times, as William had predicted, they finally discovered a man who appeared to fit the bill. He stayed at a certain inn, calling himself Jerry Dorff; but having laid low for such a long time, the man had become extremely distrustful — it would be no mean feat to call him out to meet Helena. Forcibly abducting him was out of the question, and even if they had brought Helena to meet him, he might mistake it as a trap set by the noble who’d betrayed him.

After exploring various methods, William chose to send him a single letter. Written on it was a full description of the incident that would occur — serving as a prophecy of sorts, to show that he meant him no harm, as well as a final notice: hinting that he couldn’t escape the net William had cast. After which, all that was left was to send an anonymous tip-off to the police regarding the fugitives’ location.

Then the detective and the Yard moved to hunt down the two fugitives, and Helena’s father was led to this place. Everything had unfurled from atop the palm of the “Lord of Crime” — and all of it occurred without the slightest deviation from his plan.

As a modest reward, William had been able to witness a beautiful love between parent and child. Sharing a meaningful look with Albert, he called out to his younger brother.

“Shall we, Louis?”

“Yes, William nii-san.”

With that, Louis urged their horse on a little faster.

Now that their twilight-coloured plan had been accomplished, they were headed in the opposite direction from the sunset sky, still radiant with the sun’s last rays — and towards one which was already dyed pitch-black.

When the sun went down, this city would once again be ruled by the darkness of the night. They would continue to race through its darkest parts, and work towards their goal. Finally, dawn would arrive. All the darkness would be dispelled, and a new day would begin: one that would bring people hope.

The carriage continued racing forward in a straight line. As it disappeared into the streets that had begun to dissolve into the gloom, William James Moriarty smiled.

One day, the morning sun would shine upon this world, and the ideals they created would come to life — that, was what he believed.

T/N: …When Helena’s father was revealed to be alive, I was oh my god what if—— and then they did get reunited and I was about to cry… It’s a better end than I could’ve imagined! (tears of joy)

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #the girl who sees rainbows

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rason-rodd · 3 years

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All The Time We Need - Jason Todd x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Reader and Jason meet again after two years being apart and reconnect with their long lost love.

Warning : Angst, Fluff, Smut

Author’s note: A OS definitely inspired by my 2-years long hiatus and that somewhat acknowledges it. It was almost cathartic writing it and allowed me to reconnect with Jason on a writing scale. You can read it as a sequel to “Summer Love and Swimming Pool” or not. Some moments are a bit too cheesy to my taste but I hope you’ll enjoy it nevertheless. NSFW Part is at the end. You can skip that part if you want to.

You actually realise Time flies when you take time to acknowledge it. And sometimes acknowledging is like getting buried under a mountain of sand and feeling each grain slowly chocking you and reminding you there is no escaping. The sands of Time cannot be stopped, nor can they be shoveled. They run and slip through your fingers like dust in the wind and the tighter you try to grasp them the faster they go. And when they’re gone, there is no catching them back. That’s why Time is scary. Because no matter what you do, it won’t allow you to go back or to put an end to it. And it will certainly not allow you to forget about it either. Time will pave your life until the day you die with a constant reminder that, unlike it, you’re not eternal. And the saddest thing is it doesn’t care about what you think of it. And yet, it seemed like Jason Todd had managed to tell Time to go fuck itself. “How long has it been?”

He hadn’t changed a bit. Looking as handsome as ever. Always and eternally sporting the same disheveled short black hair and the same mischievous yet tortured blue eyes, eyes that had put you in more trouble than you could remember. “Two years or so … I don’t know.” All you could remember was a passionate summertime infatuation that had burnt your body and your heart night and day like a hot and dazzling sun. A fading yet intense memory you secretly cherished and replayed in period of loneliness and that you couldn’t seem to be able to replace on the timeline of your life. “Still so beautiful, I see.” You scoffed and he chuckled. “What?” “You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” He scratched his head; arm muscles compressed in a leather jacket à la Jason that made you wonder how he could bear wearing such a light jacket in such freezing weather. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You goggled at his smile, childish, adorable yet naturally so seductive. The same smile that used to make your legs shake and turn to jell-o. “I didn’t know you were back in Gotham.” “Right back at you. Last time I heard of you, you were in this little town … Hopletown, was it?” “Appleton.” He corrected. “Looks like Timbo talks about me in my absence.” “You’re his brother. Of course, he talks about you, just like everyone else in your family.” Judging by his signature small crooked smile on his face he seemed touched by your words, taking even time to ponder over them. Did the family really think of him in his absence?

Shivering, you tightened your wool coat around you, attempting to prevent the cold wind to infiltrate under the cloth and steal your body heat, as you let Jason think about what you had just said. But your reaction didn’t go unnoticed and it managed to pull him out of his train of thoughts. “Do you want to go somewhere warmer? We could have something to drink, catch on. I’m sure you got plenty to tell.” “Not plenty but I could use a hot tea.” You confessed, already imagining the spicy smell of cinnamon and chai in your nostrils and the hot steam caressing your cold face. “Amazing.” He grinned, genuinely happy and excited, a bit like a little boy at a toy store, and lowered your beanie to properly cover your ice-cold reddened ears. That gesture got you confused for a small second but it was so sweet and caring you eventually smiled. Ah Todd, always the overprotective type I see.

***

“So, what are you doing in Gotham City? I thought you wanted to ‘travel the world Dora The Explorer-style and get the hell out of this cesspool’?” He quoted you and your genuine chuckle made him smile but only briefly as you gained back your seriousness in a matter of seconds.

He could tell you were not the same girl he used to date two summers ago. You had changed, matured. You had become a woman, a woman who seemed to struggle with responsibilities so heavy they could crush her at any second. You looked tired, weary… sad even. The cheeky light in you was gone. And he wanted to know why. Not out of curiosity but to help you. “Well, I did travel and it was awesome, like a dream come true. But I guess we always wake up from dreams eventually.” You looked down at your tea, looking at your pale reflection in the hot water, melancholia hitting you like a train. “My mother got sick and, well, her savings were not enough to pay for all the medical care so … let’s say I had to swap my backpack for a satchel… I work at Wayne Enterprises now. Bruce hired me, out of pity I suppose.” “I’m sure it wasn’t out of pity.” You shrugged and Jason grabbed your hand and you looked up at him. “And I’m sorry about your mother. I know how it’s like to …” “Do you still think about us?” You abruptly cut him short, not willing to keep talking about your personal issues or to plunge Jason back in dark memories that you know were very hard for him to handle. Sure, you could have chosen another question, another topic of conversation but the thing was that those words were niggling at you since the moment you two broke up. “I mean do you happen to think about what happened between us?”

Jason didn’t answer at first, more out of surprise than out of hesitation because there was none. There was just one answer to that question. Of course. Of course he had thought about you all over those two years. Of course he had thought about what happened, about the moments spent with you – however ephemeral they had been -, about that love he had felt and had never learned to completely erase despite the women who had entered and exited his life. Of course there had been nights in which he had replayed the lustful burning memories of you in his arms, against him, against his naked body. Of course was the answer. But not the answer he gave you. “Come with me.” He forced you to get up and slammed a fifty-dollar bill against the table, not caring about the hot chocolate he hadn’t finished or the blueberry muffin you had barely touched. “But … the change.” You tried to protest. “Fuck the change. I want to show you something.”

***

Out of all the places in Gotham, you never thought he would have brought you here. “Why are we here, Jason?” It was an ancient building, far from the fancy city centre and only a few blocks away from Crime Alley. Dilapidated, covered in colorful yet ugly graffiti, this place looked liked a landmark for drug dealers and junkies and it was an understatement to say that, without Jason’s company, it would have normally made you feel unsafe and uncomfortable. “I grew up here, before Bruce took me in.” You glanced at Jason who was staring at the place with both disgust and melancholia. “I’ve always hated that place. But it was home. And I guess it made me… I guess that is because of that place that I somehow became the man I am today… I mean, if Jason Todd hadn’t grow up here with a junkie mother and a lousy father he would have never met Brue Wayne and never became …” He stopped, on purpose, you could tell it. “Even if I hate to, I come back here when I want to think of my past, when I’m looking for a reason to keep on fighting. This place is like my temple, a memento of who I am. Damn, you must think I’m crazy.” “ No, not at all… ” You smiled and put your hand on his arm to reassure him. “Just very Romantic for the bad boy of the Wayne family.” You teased him, knowing perfectly that literature always been Jason’s hobbyhorse and that the whole bad boy thing was a persona, a thick armour he had made to protect himself. “Blame Alfred. He’s the one who made me ready Wordsworth.” He joked, appreciating the small banter. “Follow me.” You took the warm hand he offered you and followed him inside the decaying building, minding your step and trying to ignore the dirt and the potential rats.

Once on the third floor, Jason pushed a rackety wooden door that cracked and squeaked on its hinges and you entered what once was his house. “You grew up here?” You asked only to fill the heavy void caused by this dreadful place. “It was the living room. Used to hide under the table there when my parents were fighting.”

You looked around you, trying to imagine a small Jason living in here. You always knew about his crappy childhood but there is a huge difference between what you had imagined based on the stories Jason had told you in the intimacy of your bedroom and this place. “You asked me why we’re here.” You turned around and spotted Jason knelt on the dusty wooden floor, a small dusty shoebox that he had just taken from under a floorboard between his hands. “I’ve had this since I was a child. Used to keep the things I loved most in it. Somehow, even after I left this place, I never could take it away from here.” He handed it to you and you slowly opened it, careful not to drop it. You could tell this box was important to Jason.

The content left you silent and you sat on the floor near Jason to study it. “I never really opened it. I don’t like getting stuck in the past. It terrifies me.” You frowned, thinking about all the nightmares, all the anxiety attacks he used to have back in the days you were together. “I never showed it to anyone either but hopefully that’ll answer the question you asked me in that coffee shop.” The question? You had forgotten about it, way too overwhelmed by the sudden solemnity of this moment. “Never?” “You’re my first. You should be proud” He tried to joke to lighten the mood and it worked for a couple of seconds. Then, you saw it, among a dog toy, a broken necklace, a batarang and other small tokens. A photo of you two kissing and smiling. A Polaroid you had personally taken on the day when Tim had offered you the camera to illustrate your travel book. “You kept it.” You declared in a whisper. “I told you. I keep the things I love most in that box.” You stared at Jason, at the cracks of melancholia and the vulnerability in his beautiful blue eyes he allowed only a few people to see. “Of course I thought of you over the years.” You were not the cheesy romantic type. Jason was - something rooted to his love for gothic literature and poetry you supposed. But that sincere and pure confession got you all … flushed? bothered? You couldn’t really pinpoint the feeling but you could feel the shaky warmth spreading in your body, now paralyzed by the beauty of that moment. “Did you … think of me?”

If Time could stop, you would have chosen this moment to stop it. Here, now, away from your stressful life and its issues, away from all fears and all pains, with Jason and only him, forgetting about the past you’ll never be able to change or the future that vows to be uncertain and scary, thinking about what truly matters, now. “What do you think?” He chuckled and you saw his hand slightly twitch, as if he was hesitating to do something. And so you took it in yours and shared an umpteenth intimate look only he could read. “Sometimes I wish I’d never left.” Meaning, sometimes I wish I would have stayed and be with you. “Trust me, princess. You made the right choice. Your life would have been miserable with me.” He tried to reassure you, in vain. After all, he could barely convince himself? “More miserable than the one I have right now? I seriously doubt it, Jay.” You frowned and finally got up, leaving Jason’s box on the ground, to watch at the sunset and its red golden rays from the shattered window. “What do you think would have happened had I stayed?” You had your ideas; small little ones of pure love, happiness and bliss that Jason would have managed to lock in that little box of his. “I have a better question, Y/N. What do you think can happen right now?” He was towering you, expecting an answer, waiting as he was gazing at your skin glowing under the soft light of the sun and at your shining eyes. “You tell me, Todd.” This sentence echoed in Jason’s head as a call.

And so his thumb brushed your cold cheek and you looked up at his face, your eyes glued to his features observing them and all the small details you hadn’t noticed before. A little scar thin as a needle on his right brow and a much bigger one, an invisible one that you could see in his eyes, the scar left by all the losses and the pains he had gone through recently. Roy, Bizarro, Artemis. Maybe Jason had changed as well after all. Maybe there was no secret to stop time. But he didn’t let you ponder over this and gently pressed his lips on yours.

He needed that. He had thought about it all day and the truth was, you had too. You welcomed his kiss without hesitation or second thoughts and came to press your small body against his - which seemed so tall and strong in comparison to yours – to instinctively look for safety and protection. “I missed you, princess.” He whispered close to your mouth for a brief second before capturing your full lips with his again. “I missed you too.” You confessed, hands over his hard chest, feeling his heart beat loudly under your palms. Jason was holding you close now, his arms tightly circled around your form as if he was scared for you to leave, scared to be alone again. His fingers weaving in your hair, his head buried in the nape of your neck, he was pecking your delicate skin, smelling the sweet and heady perfume, glad it was exactly like the one he remembered. “Damn, Y/N. You’re still driving me crazy.” He murmured as he allowed his hands to slide in your coat and under your jumper to caress your bare back, awakening a cheekiness that you thought was long gone. “I tend to believe constancy is a quality.” You quoted him.

***

As soon as the door to your apartment slammed shut, your coat dropped to the floor and with hasty hands, Jason threw your beanie across the room, showing an excitement you had almost forgotten. It almost knocked an old crystal vase over but he couldn’t care less. He had waited long enough. Two years to be precise and he couldn’t wait a second longer. “Bedroom?” He asked between two hungry kisses that were making you almost suffocating against him. “ At the end of the corridor.” You whispered, already breathless, as you managed to finally get rid of his leather jacket. “Okay.” He suddenly grabbed you to hoist you up with incredible ease, hands under your ass, squeezing it on purpose. A lustful yet cheerful action that made you yelp in surprise. “I’m already making you scream? Perfect.” He declared with an amused smile as he rushed towards the bedroom, with you in his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist, his lips devouring yours. “Wrong door.” You said as he tried to open the bathroom. “Fuck.” You giggled and very soon your body finally bounced on your bed as it landed on the soft mattress.

You attempted to sit down to admire Jason but before you could do anything the hasty young man was already on top of you, right in between your legs, his lips already kissing your hot belly as his hands were slowly pulling up your jumper above your lace-covered breasts. That’s when your first moan finally escaped your mouth. “God. I missed that sound.” Jason mumbled against your shivering skin as he cupped and squeezed your round breasts. “Do it again.” He demanded, his tongue licking you up until it reached your cleavage. “Jason.” You moaned his name, feeling a very specific humid warmth forming in between your legs as you fingers were struggling to get rid of his green t-shirt. He cursed and knelt on the bed to take off your jumper that he carelessly tossed on the nightstand. It knocked the lamp and the radio alarm clock to the ground with a loud clinking noise. “Can you stop breaking my stuff?” You joked and he apologized with another amused bright smile. “I’m sorry, princess” “Are you? Show me how much.” You declared with an audacious confidence you hadn’t seen in a while. “Yes, ma’am.” Jason winked and immediately unbuttoned your jeans to pull them down along with your panties, revealing your wet and rosy womanhood begging for his attention. He sighed and took a deep breath when he saw it, glad to rediscover that little part of you. Slowly, his calloused fingers went to caress it, making you draw a sharp breath as your fingers tightened around the covers. You didn’t want him to tease you too long and you somewhat you know he wouldn’t. Not today. He was too excited and needy for that. And so were you in a way judging by the certain frustration that made you mewl when Jason’s expert finger slowly entered you while his thumb came to tickle your swollen clit. You wanted him now but you had to admit you had missed his fingers down there, the same way you had missed everything about him. Which reminded you there was something you had to do. “Let’s even the odds, shall we? I want to see how you handle such a sweet torture.” “Sweet torture?” He repeated with a cute chuckle as you unbuckled his leather belt. “How am I torturing you, Y/N?” You unzipped his black trousers and immediately plunged you hand in his underwear to gently grab his already hard cock, making Jason curse even more crudely than before. You chuckled and free his shaft from his boxers to jerk him off. He was as thick and long as you remembered. You bit your lower lip, impatient to feel him inside you. “Like what you see?” “Shut up.” You knelt on the mattress and immediately took his tip between your lips to suck it like a lollipop, enjoying the taste of his bitter pre-cum on your tongue and the sound of Jason’s sharp breath in your ears. “Damn it, princess.” He managed to say with half lidded eyes. You licked his penis with a grin before finally welcoming it in your mouth with a lustful moan. How much you had missed it. “You know. I think I get what you mean by sweet torture now.” Jason confessed as he weaved his fingers in your soft hair, torn apart by two ideas: one, let you continue your amazing blow job. Two, fuck you like he never did before. But you did not listen and started bobbing your head the way you knew he loved, taking his dick as deep as you could without gagging around him. “Fucking hell, Y/N” Jason groaned as he grabbed your head between his hands to accompany your pace. “You’re fucking amazing.” Then, his hand gently slapped your ass and he bent over to kiss it with a loving smile that was swallowed by another growl of his as his abs violently tensed with pleasure. “Alright, enough.” He pushed you flat on your back and placed himself between your legs again. He kissed your folds and licked your slit to wet it even more than it already was to finally lingered on your clit that he sucked eagerly, forcing a guttural crying moan out of your tightly sealed lips. Damn, that tongue! “I thought you said enough.” You complained, your voice as low as a whisper.

Jason chuckled and smiled brightly before he eventually knelt in between your spread thighs. “God, how gorgeous you are.” He declared as he tapped his hard cock against your reddened lips, a cheeky gesture whose sole purpose was to make you beg. You knew it. “You want this?” “Fuck, Jay.” You grumbled, moving your hips vigorously against his shaft, looking for a way to finally welcome it inside you. But Jason ignored your whim and bent over your body. “You want me?” His face was so close to yours you could feel his hot breath caressing your lips. “Yes.” You murmured. “I want you, Ja…” He did not let you finish your sentence and caught your lips with a burning eagerness, his hand around his cock guiding it inside you, making you moan in his mouth. “Fuck.” Jason growled between his gritted teeth as he felt himself slowly sinking inside of you. “I almost forgot you felt so tight.” “ I almost forgot you were so big.” You cleared your voice, an inexplicable mechanism to relax and allow his cock to fully enter and stretch you. “I know. Sorry.” He winced, adjusting his position on top of you to admire how beautiful you were around his penis and how perfect you pussy was for him. “Damn. I don’t know if I’ll last long, princess.” Jason admitted with a shiver and you cried out when he suddenly pulled out to push himself back inside of you with one long exquisite move. “That’s alright. We’ll do it again.”

Those last words made Jason grin in a way he had never done before as he was genuinely happy that you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, a casual lay to remember the old good days. So he immediately took a nice pace that quickened after each new thrust and you let your hands caress his smooth chest from his strong pectorals down to his divine abs and the chiselled V below his navel, finding him simply handsome. Then you nudged his rear with your ankles, pressing his hips closer to yours to take him deeper inside of you, and started moaning his name again, a strong wave of pleasure forming in your core, ready to drown you. “Jay!” His mouth met your neck and sucked on the thin skin with ardour. “Are you gonna cum for me, princess?” That was too much to handle. “Yeah” You cried out, tears of bliss watering your eyes. “Cum for me then.” He didn’t have to say it twice. You dug your nails in his back and screamed loudly as your walls clenched around tightly his thick cock. “That’s it, princess.” He said as you kept calling his name on and on, sending him closer to a most awaited orgasm that he eventually reached and let explode in you under the shape of a loud growled “fuck” and beads of white seed right inside of you. “Y/N” Jason groaned between his gritted teeth as he thrust hard and deep in you for the last time, his sweaty forehead against yours. “Jay!” You shouted again while clawing at his back painfully enough to make him wince and hiss. Then he stopped moving, exhausted and breathless just like you, and watched you sink in the mattress trying to catch your breath. He caressed your hair as you both slowly came down from cloud nine. A kiss on your nose and he whispered. “You’re okay?” and in spite of the silliness of the question you nodded. “Never been better.”

Your lips found each other again and Jason let himself lie down on you, placing his head on your breasts, listening to your hearts pounding and to your loud ragged breaths. “I missed you.” He whispered and he held you body against his. “I missed you too.” You repeated as you planted a kiss in his wet dark hair. “Did you have to keep your jeans on?” The question escaped with a laugh and Jason chuckled. “You know me. Didn’t want to waste any time.” He managed to gather the little energy he had left to sit down and finally remove his trousers as he thought he would feel more comfortable without them. “Oops. I think I broke your clock.” He grimaced as he noticed you the broken device on the floor and the flickering numbers flashing up endlessly on the screen. “I don’t care.” You said as you pulled Jason back against you. “We’ve got all the time we need.”

#Jason Todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #fanfiction #one shot

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leviiattacks · 3 years

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Two Faced | Chapter Two

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.6k → click here for the next part !

You're apprehensive the first few days. Peering over your shoulder when you walk through the halls of the Duke's estate. You often find yourself fiddling with the only real possession you have remaining from the entire ordeal - a silver locket given to you by your mother, it hasn't stood the test of time, it's littered in small scratches and it's clearly seen better days. Neither does it shine the way it used to but you need it to feel at ease.

Currently, sitting in the estate's library you attempt to focus on reading the book in front of you. It details the life of an orphaned child, the rest of the plot is a blur to you as this task is not done with the intent of enjoying the literature but with the purpose of distracting yourself.

You've been avoiding Duke Ackerman for days on end now. He's made the occasional visit to your quarters, always politely asks if he's permitted to speak to you - allowed to take even a second of your precious time. You decline every single request, your excuses range from "I'm feeling particularly ill today." to"I would like to rest early.", He never inquires after you've responded. You do however find he communicates in a variety of different ways ; Meals of the finest standard, A luxurious place to live, the maids also offer you the opportunity to venture out into the beautiful gardens but you know he's asked them to do so.

Quite frankly, you're still petrified and are unable to fathom what happened that fateful day, you had never been one to put much faith in God especially after all he had put you through, but maybe there was a God or a higher being or a somebody who helped you in your moment of despair.

Eyes darting from your page to the door of the library, you swear you see the door knob twist and you hastily double take. Nothing looks out of the ordinary so you allow yourself to shake it off. Your eyes droop shut as you knead your shoulders attempting to relieve some of the tension you feel. Recently, you find it to be an ordinary occurrence for your muscles to seize at the worst possible opportunities.

"May I speak to you?" A beaming voice enters the room from behind you but never had such a cheerful voice made you freeze in fright. It's him.

At his appearance you begin to think of all sorts of scenarios and outcomes but the specific thought you've been actively ignoring slyly slips into view. What if the spell weakens?

Fate is an ever changing entity, one minute it may be in your favour, the next... you'd rather not delve any deeper into that alternative.

Jumping to your feet you don't look in his direction trying to keep the contact you have with him minimal.

He audibly huffs and just as you're about to scurry away he speaks again. "Halt your movements."

Something about his voice beckons you to do so and you anxiously face him.

"Did I come off too bold?" The expression he makes is unlike any other you've seen from him before. His eyes twinkle and it looks as if he's holding his breathe expectantly. It's almost comical how different he looks and you can't stop your cheeks from flushing. He's quite adorable under this spell.

But then a flashback is presented to you. The anger in his eyes, the cold feeling of his sword, if he were any closer he would have been swiftly slicing your neck open. Y/N, you were seconds away from becoming a corpse you remind yourself fiercely.

"I'm not doing very well at courting you, Am I?" He frowns as he asks but he's not upset, perhaps disappointed.

Looking at the floor you hear him bombard you with even more questions, he's crowding around you now like a swarm of bees - somehow he manages the job of an entire hive on his own. No one has ever taken such an interest in you.

Your conscience tells you that you will regret this later on down the line, it tells you this will come back and bite you incredibly hard, you will regret being so ignorant and trusting yet you yield. Is it so wrong for you to consider feeling affection? When the Duke snaps out of this spell he will promptly execute you and you're aware of that fact, so what reason is there to cower away in fear?

For all your life you have never experienced the true feeling of love. You had mother's maternal love, which hadn't lasted very long at all. Never would you have any other opportunity to experience the romantic intimate kind involving a significant other. If you were to die you may as well play the role of his wife for as long as this spell wills it. Perhaps he'll receive his memories back so late he forgets or simply no longer cares. Part of you hopes he doesn't remember at all.

"Would you like to..." you pause already regretting what you're doing but before you can continue the Duke cuts you off.

"Have tea together? Explore the gardens together?"

What really sticks out to you most is how he casually emphasizes the word together. He really doesn't care what activity you engage in as long as it's with him. You feel your heart twist in your chest. This is dangerous.

He's eager, leaning forward with wide eyes. It feels odd having someone care about your input, even more odd seeing that person smile at you with the same spirit of an elated child. It's bittersweet knowing his true character.

"Let's have some tea."

A few months have passed since then. Surprisingly you're still alive and the spell shows no signs of wearing away any time soon.

After the raid at your palace he's been nothing but sweet towards you. At first many people were against him courting you and a handful of his advisors attempted to steer his sights away due to suspicions and speculation that you were a "sinful witch" who had manipulated or even seduced him.

The day he had heard those rumors he caused an uproar and had fired the royal advisor who spread them around. "Impertinent fools have the audacity to make such comments about my Duchess." You would usually add in you were not worth such respect considering you were not officially a Duchess but the fiery blaze in his eyes had stopped you.

"Hey Lev, lets go have some tea they've learnt their lesson." You shot the gossiping maids a sympathetic look.

Being under the spell does not make him more tolerable towards other people is what you learnt that day.

Multiple women all with visuals worlds more appealing than your own approach him, some even sent by his advisors to set you up. They test if his love is strong enough to withstand the attacks of others. Time and time again he proves everyone wrong and doesn't think for a second to give up on you.

You're glad for that because through these few months you've ascertained how much you love the Duke for who he is. Well, who he's acting as. You want to slam your head against a concrete wall repeatedly when you think about the level of affection and tenderness you hold towards the man but you can not lie and say you hate him.

The fact that before meeting him you lived a life lacking of love and affection does not help your case either. It only makes it harder.

But it's painfully obvious to you that this is all truly one sided. You aren't really in love with the Duke but you're in love with the magic holding him hostage.

You share these thoughts to yourself as you take a short sip from your tea cup. Sasha has left the room to fetch some pastries and sweets. She takes her job seriously as head maid (you never address her as such because really she's just a friend to you). It's a chilly day hence why you've covered yourself up in a shawl, it coincidentally matches the beige drapes.

Suddenly a boy who you recognize to be one of the young apprentices by the name of Eren bursts through the doors of your tea room. His hair is all over the place and he's panting as he tries to formulate a sentence.

"Duke." Puff. " Duke Ackerman" Puff. "Refuses to return to the Imperial Palace and is threatening the Emperor stating he won't return to his duties!"

You ignore it and try to keep to your own affairs because who are you to interfere in military business? It's looked down upon to involve yourself in such matters.

You send him off and in the mean time Sasha makes her way back.

A few minutes later as the both of you are munching on a particularly sweet macron the palace's butler bursts in the same way as Jaeger and tries to get a word in but Sasha manages to interject first.

"My lady, perhaps you should check in on the Duke." she suggests.

You try to speak but the Butler cuts in abruptly.

"Duchess. I'm afraid he hasn't ate a meal in five days. Please talk to him."

"Mike there is no need to call me a Duchess when I hold no such title...wait the Duke hasn't ate for five days???"

You find it unbelievable that Levi has forgotten to eat or possibly starved himself for something.

Making your way to his office you enter with a speech prepared about how eating is one of the blessings you've been given and how it should be appreciated but instead you're met face to face with a trail of rose petals that lead to the Duke.

You stare at him in confusion. He holds a bouquet of roses in his hands and they kiss his chest, He gives you a look of admiration that can only be described as the look that is reserved for your one true love. His eyes glimmer and they shine along with his glossy raven hair. You look him up and down in astonishment.

He's arranged all this for you.

"I'd do anything to have you be by my side for all of eternity. Will you honor me with the opportunity of taking your hand?"

Just looking at this entirely different version of the Duke, you feel relieved and in the moment you recklessly accept his proposal. You know it's stupid, you know it's ignorant, you know you should be denying him but you can't make yourself ignore the will of your heart.

"I hope to live a long life. One with you present." he whispers into the shell of your ear, it tingles.

After weeks of the Duke's courting you accept his marriage proposal and the both of you quietly wed two months later.

He's so kind and affectionate that you're plagued with nightmares where the spell wears off.

In your nightmares he continues what he left unfinished. Every time he's about to plunge his sword into the depths of your chest he wakes you up and caresses your face in between his large hands. He wraps his arms around you after some time. Once your breathing relaxes he asks what has made you cry and you can't do anything to explain. It only hurts more seeing his concerned expression. The way his eyes flick between your eyes and trembling lips, you want to tell him the truth, instead you state that you"had a nightmare, and don't wish to talk about it." You don't want him asking questions over it.

It's another Wednesday and you're pacing back and forth in front of his office door arguing with yourself about whether or not you should enter. Finally, you decide to make your entrance and peek inside. You hear him arguing with his advisors as normal.

"Instead of blithering like a idiot and making excuses why don't yo-" he's midway through his sentence when he sees you at the doorway.

Dropping the previous matter he rushes over towards you and scoops you up in his arms. Smiling up at you, you smile back sheepishly ignoring the stares of his staff.

"Honey, why did you leave me? Where did you go?" He whines into your neck and you try to push him away shyly but he won't budge.

Everyone around you grimaces at his usual mood swings as well as the heavy flirting that he's targeting at you.

"You haven't come to eat dinner with me for three nights. You're the workaholic who left me." You swiftly retort his point and you pout at the end of your sentence. He pouts back and you can see his cheeks are tinged a blushed pink.

"Then we must dine immediately, you should have informed me that I had made you feel so neglected, my darling!"

After making your way to the dining room you and Levi are conversing happily as per usual when you spot his highly agitated secretary Mikasa. It settles in that she's been standing there for a considerable amount of time, time flies when you and Levi speak. She's clearly waiting for him to report back to duty.

The first time you had met Mikasa she was highly suspicious of you and would keep an eye on your movements at all times (literally) , you thought she perhaps fancied the Duke but later learnt that she was related to him and that was probably why she was on edge at the appearance of a new individual. Besides all that she's sweet really, sometime she joins you and Sasha for tea and you happily converse. She isn't much of a talker, more of a listener which works out well considering how extroverted Sasha is and how you love to story tell. You've shared many fond memories with her.

That's why you place a hand on Levi's shoulder and interrupt him.

"Why don't you return to your work? It's about time I send you back now." You suggest but he rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"Why do you keep on trying to get rid of me? I want to stay for a little longer. After all you are my wife. You count as one of my duties. If not the most important duty of all!" He's about to break out into one of his embarrassing speeches and you want to save Mikasa from that.

"Mikasa really needs you to complete your other duties. Do it for me Lev." You try and butter him up with the mention of his nickname. As expected he perks up and stands up to leave, not before placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"Ah Lev, I'll be taking a short trip out today. Is that alright with you?"

You don't specify that 'out' means the Sunday Market place, he'll ask question after question.

He holds onto your chin with his thumb and leans in for a chaste kiss.

"Of course my darling. Be careful."

He giddily waves at you as he leaves and you wave back with the same enthusiasm. You giggle at the sight of Mikasa practically gagging at the two of you and glaring daggers at Levi.

The door then shuts and you're left alone.

All that accompanies you is silence and you purse your lips together trying to keep it together. Recently as soon as he turns away from you all you can think about is how this love of his is a hoax.

He doesn't really love you.

That doesn't stop all the sweet words he's ever uttered from flooding your memory.

"You're mine and I'm yours."

"My beautiful love."

"I love you I mean it." It hurts. He doesn't mean it.

But you'll keep the charade up. You'll find a way to keep him this way forever. It's selfish but you can't be blamed, It keeps you safe and happy.

Love is nice but you would prefer to live.

#levi ackerman #attack on titan levi #attack on titan #snk #aot #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi aot #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons #levi fluff #levi smut #levi angst #duke levi #leviiattacks #levi fanfiction

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navyhyuck · 3 years

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𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐄𝐃, 𝐉𝐀𝐘.

↳ a love letter a week, and it has you wondering who’s your secret admirer. you have nine weeks, eight candidates, and one story to live. will you find out who your ‘jay’ is?

a/n :: here’s part two my sexy friends, i’ll be starting to add a little warnings tag from now on because parts will start to get longer and may include some triggering topics!!

wc :: 2.9k (i’m sorry it’s getting longer and longer i know)

warnings: mentions of sex (kinda, not explicit), a singular mention of death, someone’s borderline a bully but not quite (they’re just mean)

taglist: @childofthecycle @the8luvr @staywrites @chocolattees @cloudzume @babytoadz @cherrystay @sandaigdigan-reads @hoes4hoseok @ctrlaltfangirl @kodzu-ken @xazucaradictax @qtieskz @blueprint-han

couldn’t tag: @x-dawna-x

let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

You’re listening to Ryujin go on and on about Han Jisung at practically 6 a.m. (okay, it was around halfway to 8 o’clock, but her words were making you lose track of time), your head resting against the cool metal of the locker, almost wishing you were banging your head against it instead. As much as you knew your friend had a thing for the boy, you never thought you’d be stuck in the middle listening to her over analyzing everything that happened in English the day before. Sure, the precarious boy could be outstanding at pipetting in chemistry, but his social skills weren’t the best. Or at least, they weren’t the best with you.

“Anyway, I’ll shut up now, you look like you just watched The Conjuring and threw up on yourself.” She exclaims rather dryly, and you raise your head, glimpsing at the questioning look on her face. “By the way, that movie was shit. I’ll get to the point, then. I was gonna ask who you’re going to homecoming with.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes at both the comment on one of your favorite horror movies ever (that you’ve watched four times already, each time with the same girl who insists it’s not scary but ends up peeking past her fingers anyway) and homecoming. “Myself,” you reply, returning your head to its original position. “Do I look like the kind of person that would go to homecoming with a date? Really?”

“You went last year,” she points out, and you realize it’s true with a groan. It wasn’t your fault that you couldn’t refuse the captain of the basketball team when he proposed the idea in the middle of the cafeteria, halfway through the sixth period. Honestly, San wasn’t too bad anyway, he just wanted to have some fun with a girl that wasn’t following after him in the general sheep crowd; after the night was over, however, you swore to yourself that you would never come to a dance voluntarily wearing stilettos without one of your go-to friends. “And you liked it. Plus, I was thinking, we should all get dates this year! You know, since it’s our senior year and all. You won’t have another hoco to miss after this one.”

“Get dates? You’re acting like it’s buying takeout.”

“It basically is,” she shrugs. “You go out, ask for something from someone, and they either give it to you or not. Though I’m not really sure if restaurants are allowed to refuse service.”

“We could just all go as friends,” you suggest, finally opening up your locker. “As great as having some random dude as my date, no thanks. Like you said, it’s our last year. And hoco’s been fun since freshman year for us anyway, what’s the point of setting us up with dudes when we’re just gonna ditch them?”

“Who said I’m gonna ditch my date?”

“Me, I just did,” you deadpan, shuffling through your books to grab onto your chemistry lab book and stuffing it into your bag. “Remember sophomore year? Yeah, you might not want to remember it, but I do. Lee Daehwi?” She groans at the sound of the familiar name, making you chuckle.

“Okay, fair enough, but I’m not gonna ditch my date this time. Not if I get the one I want.” Ryujin smacks your arm to grab your attention, making you hiss before you see the knowing look on her face as she wiggles her eyebrows. You cross your arms in confusion, trying to scan and rescan her face for hints to what she was getting at, but when your mind finally clicks, you freeze. And then, your jaw drops. “Shut up.”

“I-I didn’t even say anything!”

“I know what you’re gonna say!” She points at you, shaking her finger before bringing it back down. “Look, like you said, it’s senior year. I don’t have a chance, really, not after this one. Either I ask him out for homecoming in the next week or I mope around for the rest of my life regretting not going to a high school dance with the hottest guy in school. Yeah, okay, I guess that kinda does sound a little pathetic.”

You consider it for a moment, imagining how awkward the interaction between Ryujin’s infamous crush and her would be; there would be a whole lot of tripping at the feet and ten times the amount of stuttering. Plus, you’re sure that the boy didn’t have the heart capacity to receive a request without passing out cold. He’s a little fragile after all. “You think Jisung’s the hottest guy in school?”

“Duh, who else do you think? That Hyunjin dude? Yeah, maybe, I saw him a few times in the past few days, but so what? People just get hyped over some guy whenever they come to the school and like four days later he’s no longer a cool transfer student and just ‘the guy next to me in calculus.’” You give her a look, one that you hope resembles something that conveyed the message of ‘you just brought up Hyunjin completely unprovoked’ but she doesn’t budge, her eyes trailed on her nails as she continues. “...and I’ll ask Jisung. Chaeryoung said she’s going with that other guy from your chem, whatever his name was, him. So then, it’s just you.”

You’re reminded suddenly of the letter that you pulled from your locker a few days earlier, the one that followed after the previous introduction and pleaded for you to attend the dance. Even if the letter had never arrived, you were planning on it anyway, but now, you had a purpose. “I don’t really want a date,” you say carefully, your eyes darting across the busy hallway before focusing on the blue of your best friend’s hair. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe, whatever. I don’t feel like stressing out about asking someone, so maybe if someone asks me, I'll be their date. But don’t count on it, alright?”

Ryujin narrows her eyes at you, as if searching for something underneath (something that wasn’t there, you’d like to point out, but she’s still looking intently) before humming. “Alright, sure.” She finishes abruptly, clearly wanting to add onto her sentence but refraining from doing so, making you raise an eyebrow at her shenanigans.

“Spit it out, c’mon, I know you have more to say.”

Your best friend gives you a deadly look but considers it, resting her back against the lockers before turning back to you. “Okay, this is just a thought, got it? Just something running through my head right now that I want to share.”

You cross your arms. “A thought? You? Thinking? Well, that’s no good.”

“Shut up and listen to me first,” she waves you off, shuffling closer until you can see the glimmer of her eyeshadow smudged on the side of her winged eyeliner. “Think about this. You, Y/N, a beautiful girl with absolutely no intention on going to homecoming with a date because of the lack of attraction towards snotty teenage boys, asking the Hwang Hyunjin, a transfer student that’s extremely good-looking and apparently affectionately kind who has no intention on going to homecoming with a date because of the lack of connection with beautiful girls, to homecoming.”

You blink twice, looking up at the ceiling as you quietly process her words. It’s a bit jumbled in your head, but once you think it’s clear enough, you look at her. “Ryujin. May I express my feelings about this ‘thought?’”

She scans you up and down, and then nods.

“It’s absolute bullshit.”

“Hey!”

“I hate my life,” you say to yourself as you swing open the door of your car, stepping out rather impatiently onto the asphalt. Having forgotten to grab your psychology notebook at the end of the day, you found yourself taking an unwanted U-turn back to the school to pick it up; in your defense, you would rather maintain your A in the class even if you had to stop by the gas station on your way back. Like you were told, a class requires commitment.

You march your way into the school once again, wondering why the school officials never thought to add any precautionary measures to the buildings. It makes you wonder if someone had ever snuck onto campus since you were a freshman. From the very deep memories of your sophomore year, you remember a junior at that time sneaking in one of his friends during finals week thinking he’d get away with it. Honestly, Juyeon was something else.

Just as you make your way to your locker, you quietly scroll through your phone distractedly before seeing a text pop up in your infamous group chat.

[3:05 p.m.] chaechaer: guess what guys!! :D

[3:05 p.m.] praying mantis: don’t wanna guess

[3:05 p.m.] hwangji: she’s finally getting dick

[3:05 p.m.] chaechaer: i’ll fucking bite you yeji.

[3:06 p.m.] hwangji: bite me baby i wanna see you try

[3:06 p.m.] you: spill c’mon

[3:07 p.m.] praying mantis: y/n.

[3:07 p.m.] praying mantis: why are you at school right now

[3:07 p.m.] chaechaer: gasp

[3:07 p.m.] chaechaer: looks like i’m not the only one getting dick

[3:08 p.m.] you: oh fuck off, i came back bc i forgot something

[3:08 p.m.] you: wait did you just say ‘not the only one’

[3:09 p.m.] hwangji: so you ARE getting dick???

[3:09 p.m.] hwangji: spill mf, right now

[3:09 p.m.] you: ryujin, are you checking my snap location rn??? hello??

[3:10 p.m.] praying mantis: ofc i am, i’m your guardian angel :)

[3:10 p.m.] you: you’re a stalker

[3:10 p.m.] praying mantis: but whose dick are you getting? that’s the real question

You roll your eyes as hard as you can, hoping that your best friend would know even from a distance. Just as you continue to tap furiously into the glass of your phone, you’re suddenly hit by your left shoulder, sending you flying down to the ground in an instant. “Shit,” you whisper under your breath, brushing your hair out of your eyes well enough to look up and see that the hard object you just ran into wasn’t a wall. In fact, it was a human.

“Watch where you’re going,” the boy snaps at you, rather loudly in fact, making you flinch as you slowly stand up, gathering your phone. “This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t on your phone. Who walks in a hallway with their head down like that? Do you want to die?”

It takes you a minute to realize who’s actually standing in front of you, and it’s only when you’ve managed to gulp down his harsh words. Seo Changbin. He looks at you from head to toe, the scowl still evident on his face when your eyes widen. Suddenly, you’re a little more aware of yourself, shifting uncomfortably in his gaze as he doesn’t move.

“Well?” He crosses his arms across his chest, now approaching you. “I don’t hear an apology.”

You instinctively back away, avoiding the boy’s eyes before you’re looking right back into them. If you weren’t mistaken, there was no one in front of you until there was, and there was no way that you could’ve ran into someone without noticing their presence earlier. Scoffing, you mimic his posture, looking behind him to see if you’re right about your assumption. In fact, you are, seeing the door of the locker room staring right back at you. “Me? Shouldn’t you be watching where you’re going?”

Changbin looks taken aback by your retaliation, somehow making his forehead lines fall into a straight line. “Don’t talk back to me, bitch.”

“Bitch?” You want to laugh, but instead, you press a smile down. “Seriously? Who do you think you are?”

You’re honestly appalled at the way the admired swimmer is acting towards you, but you’re not surprised. You would be lying if you didn’t say you weren’t in the faintest surprised. The entire team could act like a handful of bullies that didn’t have any other free time on their hands, if you looked into it more. Changbin seems to be dissatisfied with your answer, closing in on you as your back presses against the wall.

“What did you say to me?”

You’re about to respond with an equally harsh answer but there’s a sudden call of Changbin’s name from the end of the hallway, making the both of you turn your heads. Yet another swimming team member comes jogging your way, sporting a school branded shirt that tells you exactly what he’s part of. The boy stops a few feet away from the two of you, a large smile spreading across his face as he looks from Changbin to you. You scratch your head. Is Bang Chan currently standing in front of you? Or was it just a figment of your imagination?

“Hi! What’s your name?” He asks, coming closer before glancing over at Changbin and stopping. “W-What? Wait, what? What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Changbin defends immediately, making you raise an eyebrow as he holds up his palms. “I didn’t! Nothing happened, Chan. It’s all good. Let’s just go now.”

Chan doesn’t budge when he grabs onto his arm, tugging to pull him away, but he instead focuses his attention on you. His smile persists. “Hi sweetheart, judging from the look on your face, he did do something, right?”

You’re taken aback at his soft voice, a complete contrast from what you just heard from the other boy. Pursing your lips, you try not to let your cheeks flame up. Sweetheart? “It’s nothing—he just ran into me and tried to pin the whole thing on me—it’s all good, really. I’m fine, I didn’t get hurt. So…”

“You didn’t get hurt? But he ran into you?” Chan shoots Changbin a sharp look, one that looks much darker than the gaze he returns to you. “Are you okay? It might’ve been a hard fall. I can take you to the nurse’s office, if you’d like?”

“N-No, it’s fine!” You shake your hands in refusal, an awkward chuckle leaving your lips. Chan only laughs brightly in response, his entire face somehow appearing ten times more charming than before. You notice with another fleeting glimpse that there are dimples that crease into his skin as he smiles, now making your heart do an unidentifiable leap inside your chest. “Um, okay, I actually have to go now! I’ll, uh, yeah! Bye!”

You turn in your heel, trying to walk at a casual but extremely quick pace at the same time, which proves to be difficult. Just as you’re about to turn at the corner, there’s a shout from down the hall.

“Hey!” Peaking your head back, you see Chan waving his hand at you. “What’s your name?!”

“Y/N!”

“Nice to meet you Y/N! I hope to see you around!”

Gulping, you lean back against one of the lockers near yours, placing a hand over your chest as you finally notice the thumping. You take a deep breath, shaking your head a few times to get the entire situation out of your head; it doesn’t work, not with your brain taking you back to that exact moment once again. You just spoke to one, no, scratch that, two extremely talented swimming players with your own two eyes. And perhaps the rapid beating of your heart wasn’t just because one of them was being nice to you. But you wouldn’t admit that now, would you?

dear y/n love,

hi hi! i’ve missed talking to you (yes, i know, there’s no way you can respond to me, but anyway), but this letter will be unfortunately short today. please don’t think too much of it! my class is about to end, haha.

i saw you at one of the swimming meets a few days ago, and oh my god, i really couldn’t take my eyes off of you. i don’t know if anyone has ever told you, y/n, but you are so beautiful. i remember what you were wearing; was it...a black shirt? and jeans, oh yes. your sense of style is so simple yet somehow so perfect. i couldn’t even take my eyes off of you, oh god, i remember all my friends yelling at me to pay attention but all i was doing was staring at you. sounds like a problem, huh? but i enjoy it. shit, this sounds kinda creepy again, doesn’t it? i’m so sorry, love, that’s not what i was going for. i just...really admire you. a lot.

also, the homecoming game is this weekend! i hope you end up going, you can even go with your friend! the blue-haired one, yeah, ryujin, i think. that’s her name, right? oh god, you probably think i’m even weirder now that i just told you that i know your friend. fuck. anyway.

once again, i hope to see you there! there’s something waiting for you there and i want to be able to surprise you, even if i don’t want to reveal my identity just yet. see you soon, love.

signed, jay

#inkidz #stayhavennet #kpopscape #skz fluff #skz series #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #skz x reader #skz au #stray kids series #stray kids writing #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids au #stray kids x reader

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abraxos-the-phantom · 3 years

Text

Scum Disciple: Alpha Stage

Alpha, described by google as "...an exploratory phase. Beta means the features have been locked down and are under development (no other features will be added). More commonly: Alpha: Usually the first normally interact-able thing out (private or public use is irrelevant)."

And here are some of the highlights that I liked from the first few versions lol.

Fun Times in Gusu

Lan Xichen walked to quite a strange sight.

While normally he would have greeted the younger Nie with a smile, the image of the famous Wei Wuxian pouting as YunmengJiang’s young master and QingheNie’s second master grinned was a little too ridiculous for him to process without chuckling.

“We both know you aren’t actually going to tell Ming-shixiong,” Nie Huaisang chuckled at the shifted to pat the other.

“Yeah,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “I’m worried though.”

Jiang Wanyin had raised his eyebrow, making quite the image as he looked over his crossed arms, “You’re worried about your brother? QingheNie Sect’s Monster Head disciple? The Youngest Rogue Cultivator in the Generations? The Peerless Prodigy? I think you’re a little delusioned Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian’s nose crumbled at that, “They really call Gēge that? Such lame names.”

“I think brother called him the Crane Dragon once,” Nie Huaisang added. “When you and Ming-shixiong went on a Night Hunt.”

Wei Wuxian shook his head, “Forget it, that’s not what I’m worried about- it’s just. Gēge has never let me on my own like this before. He gets antsy.”

Nie Huaisang pursed his lips, “I can understand but- A-Xian, you’re one of his best students.”

“He just- he gets this look sometimes,” Wei Wuxian sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it but sometimes he looks at me and I’m pretty sure he’s seeing something else. I never asked because he always looks sad after.”

“Didn’t you grow up together?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ming-shixiong with anyone else besides the three of us but the other disciples.”

“He’s never talked to anyone except father, mother, myself, sister, and some of the disciples at our sect,” Jiang Wanyin said in agreement. “You guys didn’t meet anyone when your Brother was still Rogue?”

Wei Wuxian shook his head in Jiang Wanyin’s direction, expression slightly pinched still, “I wouldn't remember, and I know we’re close- but there’s some stuff I know he hasn’t told me. You guys realize that my brother is nineteen?”

Jiang Wanyin blinked, as well as several other disciples who were not so covertly listening into the conversation about the mysterious prodigal Cultivator of the QingheNie Sect. “He seems much older, I didn’t think anyone knew his actual age.”

Because that was the curiosity wasn’t it, for all that he was well-known, there was never truly anyone who knew Wei Ming, because he would never actually say anything about his past save for vague hints. One could ask Wei Wuxian of course, but the latter had the same result because of the mere fact that Wei Wuxian didn’t know much about his older brother either beyond his personality, likes and dislikes. Any years before Wei Ming had lived with his brother was knowledge he couldn’t even forget because he never knew in the first place. Nie Mingjue never asked, and neither did Nie Huaisang. It took Wei Ying meeting other children to realize that nine-year-olds never talked the way Wei Ming did. They didn’t know facts about monsters, and they certainly never talked about demons. Yet Wei Ming had extensive knowledge since who knows how long, and no one ever questioned it.

Whether that was because Wei Ming knew how to subvert the conversation or because they simply never asked, that was a question no one could really answer. Not even Wei Wuxian, for all that he loved his Gēge, knew where to start.

Sensing the sudden dip in Wei Wuxian’s mood, Nie Huaisang brightened as much as he could, “Well it doesn’t even matter does it? He’s your brother, he’s my teacher- and he scares my brother to boot.”

Wei Wuxian laughed, if a little weakly, “He told me he actually enjoys it a little.”

Jiang Wanyin winced, “Isn’t your brother known to your Sect as the Punisher?”

With an enthusiastic nod from both Nie Sect members, they proceeded to scare everyone else by saying, “300 copies of Consequence, 200 paces across the hills and back in three days and patrolls in three of the Qinghe protected lands by the end of two weeks!”

They silently cackled as the other Sect disciples paled at the prospect.

After gently teasing Wangji of his interaction with Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen bid his brother a good night as he suddenly remembered what he had sought the older Wei out for. The technique he used was quite unique and not among any technique he had some knowledge of, though granted it could purely be because he himself was not well learned in any but the Lan Sect style. Regardless, he was hoping to have a discussion about it and to possibly inquire if the older Wei would use his expertise to critique his own swordsmanship.

He was just about to do just that before he heard an audible thunk and grunt of pain from within the room Wei Ming had been assigned for his stay here.

Lan Xichen abruptly opened the door out of instinct, blinking in surprise to find Wei Ming wielding a brush in his hand and a paper in the other, dark eyes roving the entire wooden table with apprehension.

“Mn?” Wei Ming looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, Zewu-jun. I was under the impression you had retired for the night.”

“I had initially been hoping to discuss swordsmanship with you before,” Lan Xichen looked at the papers, elegant calligraphy lining each and every one save for the large stack of paper at the corner of the table. “I admit, however, that this seems to take my interest far more at the moment.”

“Ah, well.” Wei Ming gestured to the papers. “These are lesson plans, notes if you will- but plans all the same.”

“...Lesson plans?”

Wei Ming nodded seriously, “It’s important for a teacher to understand what they are teaching every day, so as not to leave anything important out.”

“Ah…apologies, considering the subject you are teaching I thought-”

“To be fair, the material I’m teaching does require less theory than practical. Had I been teaching something akin to a bestiary subject or perhaps even medicinal practices, I wouldn’t be as extensive as this,” Wei Ming once again gestured to the large stacks. “This is not the case however, as I am teaching fighting techniques. I also have to come up with tests and exams, sort the students into pairs for sparing purposes, note everyone’s strengths and weaknesses, formulate proper lectures concerning the techniques I am teaching- that sort of thing. Besides the fact that I’m considering adding other techniques so that my students are well informed.”

Though granted the stuff he was doing was easier than when he had been Qing Jing Peak’s head disciple, the paperwork for that Sect was monstrous because of the additional lessons for music and the tactitionary course. Both were a requirement as a disciple of Qing Jing, as they were the main jack of trades within Cang Qiong as their roles were both in support and primary fighters when it came to battles. This was especially true during the pseudo war between Lou Binghe’s forces and during the battle with Tianlang-jun. Shizun would normally do most of the work but with the absence of Lou Binghe, a lot of it arrived to Ming Fan and he didn’t have the heart to inquire about it.

After Binghe’s return Ming Fan just never thought to question it anymore, Shizun was happy and he got used to the workload. It wasn’t as if he never had help either, he took charge of the male disciples while Ning Yingying took charge of the females. After Lou Binghe soon took up some work every now and then; it’s just the way things were after...After.

Wei Ming blinked after returning from his thoughts, “Hundreds of apologies, may Zewu-jun repeat himself?”

Lan Xichen smiled, “Of course, I only wished to ask if you would be open to giving me advice on my swordsmanship? Nie Mingjue mentioned before that your advice had helped him improve his saber technique and I would very much like to also improve myself now that the opportunity is open to me.”

“Or perhaps Xichen-ge would not like to be left behind by his dîdi?” Wei Ming said with an amused smile.

At this Lan Xichen’s ears colored slightly even as he smiled neutrally, “That is also a motivation, but I believe no brother would want their younger brother to leave them behind.”

“Very well, when Zewu-jun is free; we shall spar.” Wei Ming’s lips quirked. “I would also like to know if my observations are correct.”

“Let us have this spar soon Teacher Wei, thank you for your time.” Lan Xichen stood and dipped his head slightly before exiting with a final ‘good night’.

“Gege what are you doing?”

Wei Ming was currently in the Lan Sect library, pouring over old books that amused him and greatly reminded him of some of the brighter moments in his past life. Namely: The Resentment of Chunshan. The book itself was poor in terms of accuracy, but amusing nonetheless. He and the other disciples found themselves horrified and amused by the story described within. Even more so when the Song of BingQiu became popular among the locals.

He was also starring an old map of the land, clearly looked into by someone considering the small hand-written notes in black ink. The penmanship was oddly familiar but Wei Ming couldn’t exactly remember where.

There was also an area circled, the name Cang Qiong Sect written in careful script.

“What do you think?” He asked absentmindedly, fingers brushing over the circled area. It was far from the other Sects, inaccessible due to the mountain ranges that circled it. If one tried, they’d have to do so by climb rather than sword. The air would be thinner; challenging even for a Cultivator.

He vaguely wondered if the land had changed so much as to the sudden growth of mountains around the Cang Qiong Sect area.

“Looks like someone was trying to look for the mythical Cang Qiong Sect,” Wei Ying peered over his brother’s shoulder. Tilting his head at the map. “Weird.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Eh,” Wei Ying shrugged as he sat next to him. “Cause it’s just a legend, no one actually knows if the Cang Qiong Sect is still around. If it ever was around. I mean- demons, the War- it’s described in pretty poetry and details, but other than that- most people write it off as a fantasy since no one’s ever seen it.”

Wei Ming considered the next question carefully, “What do you believe?”

“I think there’s some truth to it,” To himself, Wei Ying vaguely wondered why the sudden inquiry. His brother had no interest in the stories that were normally told to children, he had been busy at the time and Wei Ying only knew of it because the Nie Brothers held a rather large collection of the stories of the illustrious Cang Qiong Sect and one of their most famous Lords: Shen Qingqiu. Nie Huaisang had admitted that most of these were his brother’s, and he himself was promptly amused. Now he was starting to wonder. The stories of the Cang Qiong Sect were often used for the children of Cultivators as lessons, Lan Sect used it too if what was in the library was any indication- it was an impressive collection.

Though it did have nothing on Sect Leader Nie’s secret collection of nearly all the tales of the General from Qing Jing Peak: Huázháo-jun.

“Hm, perhaps,” Wei Ming noted non-committedly, shaking his head. “Let’s talk about what to do for tomorrow.”

“Mn! You should teach-“

[Fun fact about this one up here! In this version of the story, MF brings WWX's body up through the mountains to Cang Qiong Sect in the hopes that he could get help in reviving his brother, thereby re-meeting with his fellow disciples of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect]

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ripley95 · 3 years

Note

Self-positivity ask! Show off some of your favorite bits of writing. It can be from a WIP or a published work, but go ahead an show off and be proud of your amazing work!

Thank you so much for this awesome ask whoever you are!! It means so much to me that you’re interested and thought of me. I’ve chosen a few passages all from already published works, some are under the read more including a long passage:

From A Cursed Blessing - Synthesis ending one-shot, F!Shenko:

He sees the husks helping rebuild in droves. Once grotesque reanimations of humans, asari and turians with the sole purpose to harvest are now breathing and civilized and have lives of their own. They are no longer hordes meant to kill. They're functional and cooperative. He laments at the thought that his father could be among them. He doesn't know what to make of them, and he can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse.

...

He turns in the middle of the night and moves his arm to envelope a body that isn't there. His fingers brush the empty pillow. He opens his eyes to see his arm, covered in green. He feels tears begin to form. He shuts his eyes tight and presses his fingers gently against his eyelids, and still sees green. Everything's green. He curses it and wants to scream. Just one night, he doesn't want the reminder. He clings the empty pillow tightly to his chest and imagines how he used to brush her hair out of her face as she slept. He remembers that this green sheen was because of her. The thought of it quiets his breath. He trusts in her decision. It was an end to the war, even if it wasn't how they'd planned it. He still doesn't know what happened up there, but he knows he would have done anything to stop the war. He knows he may very well have done the exact same thing as Shepard had their positions been reversed. It's a small comfort. He reminds himself that they'd won, and the war is over, and that's all that should matter. He willfully reaffirms that this is a blessing as much as it feels like a curse. He bunches the pillow up closer to his face and is saddened that it no longer smells like her. It hasn't for quite some time now. Eventually, he finds fitful sleep.

From This Ratty Old Thing - Post Alchera, Hannah Shepard grieving the death of her daughter:

She looked back to the screen then, any trace of mirth entirely gone. “Sometimes I wonder if we pushed you into this life. It was never my intention. As much as I’ve appreciated my time in the Alliance, I always felt like it was my only option. I never wanted that for you. I can’t deny that you’ve done well with it, but sometimes I wish I pushed you harder to consider other things. We never really talked about our careers much, but were you happy? Did you like it?” She cut herself off rather abruptly after that, realising she would never get a response.

Her gaze shifted back to the stuffed dog. Any semblance of happy memories was exchanged for something resembling disdain. “They never even found your body. How is someone supposed to grieve with no proof of death? I don’t even have any ashes. No dog tags. Nothing!” She was visibly upset now, still not looking at the screen. She waited until she calmed down slightly before continuing. “Nothing but this ratty old thing.”

She gave the toy one last glance as she brushed her thumb over the dog’s face, and set it down on the desk. She didn’t even bother looking back at the screen as she stood up, her finger hovering over the power button to her terminal.

“This was a mistake.”

She pushed the power button, and the room returned to blackness.

From Echoes of Old Embers - Post-War, accidental/fake dating, F!Shenko (this one’s long) Honestly, I think this has become my favourite story of mine, and it probably has most of my favourite passages in it, but only chose one to share:

Maisie walked up to them, moving to the beat as she made her way from the dance floor.

“What, you guys aren’t going to dance?” She asked with a beaming grin on her face.

Even if this was an ideal situation and she and Kaidan were somehow together, she would have had a good excuse for getting out of this one. She may as well have been a ballerina on the battlefield, but she had absolutely no rhythm when it came to dancing. Unless she wanted to make a mockery of herself, she wasn’t about to go out there. It was one thing in privacy with her crew. Under normal circumstances, she might not even mind letting loose here, but it would have been one more thing to draw attention to her. For the most part, Libby’s already had her magical night, but she still hated the potential to steal it from her and opted to want to stay on the sidelines.

“I’m afraid I’m a horrible dancer,” Shepard said.

“What?” Maisie asked incredulously, stopping dead in her tracks. “You can’t be serious. You?”

“Oh, she’s telling the truth all right,” Kaidan said from beside her with a snort.

“Hey! You’re one to talk. I seem to remember you making finger guns at that party in my apartment,” she said with a big grin on her face.

“Hey, now, this conversation isn’t about me. Maisie’s already well aware of my dancing abilities.”

“Uh-huh,” Shepard said with a smile that she couldn’t help thinking would wane the moment that Maisie left them alone again.

“It’s true, I know he’s got no game on the dance floor. You, on the other hand, are not allowed to say that without a show,” she said, all but ready to drag Shepard into the middle of the crowd when Shepard pulled back.

“Maisie, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to draw attention to myself,” Shepard tried to say in a lowered voice.

Maisie huffed out a laugh at her. “Well, if that’s your goal, maybe you should reconsider. Have you taken a good look at that crowd?” she asked, turning to look at everyone dancing. “Everyone’s making a fool of themselves. Only ‘Commander Shepard’ would have a complex about this. If you ask me, I think standing on the sidelines is probably drawing more attention to you than however bad your dancing must be.”

Shepard looked out into the crowd. Sure enough, it was full of people just letting loose. No one cared about how they looked, though she still thought her skills were subpar to everyone out there. At the same time, she probably wasn’t bad enough to draw attention away from everyone else who was just out there having fun.

Shepard turned to Kaidan then, “Shit. She has a point, doesn’t she?”

“I’m afraid she might,” Kaidan said with a smirk.

“Yes! You know I’m always right,” Maisie said with a smile.

“You don’t have to rub it in,” Kaidan said, holding his hand out to Jane. “Shall we?”

“Can’t wait to see this,” Maisie said with a smirk.

Maisie took their glasses and Kaidan gave her the tiniest of glares before he and Shepard made their way out onto the dance floor.

“So, do you have a buzz going yet?” Kaidan asked.

Shepard looked at him, slightly amused. “A bit,” she answered.

“Good, because I think it’ll at least help us not be so self-conscious out here,” he said with a smile as he started dancing.

Maybe it was because she was teasing him about it moments before, but it seemed like he would be leaving his finger guns holstered for the evening. His rhythm was almost as bad as hers. In fact, it was as bad as hers. It brought back memories of them dancing in that casino on the Citadel when they were trying to figure out who stole her identity. Before they even knew she had a clone. They had the exact same dance style then too… And somehow she was always the one that got flack about it from the crew. It made her wonder how security at the casino never thought they were suspicious, because who would want to be seen dancing like that out in public? Shepard had to laugh at the memory of it.

“What?” he said, in mock offense as he stopped dancing immediately, thanks to her outburst. “You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s not that,” she said, grabbing his arms to get him to start bopping them again. “It’s just that, I’d say we’re two peas in a pod or something.”

She started mimicking his moves. Not that she was trying to match him or anything, but more because she legitimately didn’t know any other way to dance. She never knew what to do with her arms. Or her legs for that matter... or where to look. Practically nothing came naturally to her about dancing, but then again, she rarely ever had a partner. Today, she had Kaidan as a distraction and it was easier to let go of the insecurities, already knowing that she looked ridiculous, because he looked ridiculous too. They looked into each other’s eyes. It made both of them laugh some more as they kept dancing.

She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the dancing, but the night’s tension finally started to feel like it was easing away. She liked seeing Kaidan let loose a bit. It wasn’t something that was typically easy for him either.

Before they knew it, they danced through song after song, and the tempo suddenly changed to something much slower. That made them both stop and catch their breath as they looked to each other again, wondering what to do.

Kaidan saw everyone else around them starting to dance, so he looked back towards her with a smile, holding his hands out in question for her to join him. “I guess we probably should.”

Shepard looked around her, realising the same thing. “Right,” she said as she put her hands in his, and he pulled her closer.

Thanks again for this ask! This was really fun to pick out some favourites.

#my writing #mass effect fanfiction #snippets #F!Shenko #Hannah Shepard #asks and answers #thank you!!!#Anonymous

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slytherinknowitall · 3 years

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Potion Fumes and Cauldron Leaks

Chapter 20: Celebrating You

(Click here for chapter 19!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

“Hermione, my dear, I keep telling you that you’re getting too thin! Would you like a piece of my famous cinnamon apple pie? It’s fresh out of the oven!”

The young witch smiled. Sitting at the large wooden table in the Burrow’s kitchen, the family’s famous clock ticking away in the background, she was flipping through the morning edition of the Daily Prophet as the Weasley matriarch was busily preparing breakfast for everyone. Coming back had felt like returning home – she had desperately needed some time away from all the N.E.W.T.s pressure at school, and it had been so nice to see the redheaded nonuple in its entirety again. And while she and Ron were still a bit uneasy around each other, they were at least back on speaking terms.

“No, thank you, Mrs Weasley. Personally, seven in the morning is just a bit too early for dessert!”

Hermione turned her attention back to the newspaper in front of her, but she could not seem to focus on the words written there – because the only thing busier than Mrs Weasley’s kitchen was her mind. She could not stop thinking about Professor Snape. The two of them had unarguably got close over the past few months. While he had definitely hated having her as an apprentice at first, it did not seem like that was the case anymore; or at least he did not show it any longer. She could not be sure, of course; but she had the feeling that he enjoyed being around her just as much as she enjoyed being around him.

Though she had initially felt uncertain following her talk with Ginny, she had ultimately decided that she simply could not stay away from the Potions Master. He was her safe space, her rock. Whenever she was around him, she finally felt alive again. A rush of ecstasy would travel through her entire body like wildfire every time he brushed against her or even merely called her by her first name. And so she had come to the conclusion that maybe fancying one of her teachers was not that bad, after all. She obviously knew that nothing would ever come of it, but she figured she could at least enjoy their unlikely companionship while it lasted. Still, she would probably not let her best friend know that she had chosen to disregard her advice.

However, there was one thing that was bothering her. From her apprenticeship application, Hermione knew that it was Professor Snape’s birthday in one week’s time; all possible tutors had been listed with both rank and date of birth. But what made her sad was knowing that no one, not even he himself, would care. With how self-isolated he was, she was certain that there would be no party, no birthday cards and no presents (except for one from Dumbledore, perhaps), and he was worthy so much more than that! He might be kind of a grouch and not the most pleasant teacher, but he was a brilliant man and deserved to have his life celebrated. And after the amazing gift he had sent her for her own birthday, she wanted to give him something in return.

Suddenly, she had an idea.

“Hey, Mrs Weasley?” The older woman turned around, a pan of still sizzling bacon in her hand. “Can I ask you something?”

*************** *************** ***************

If there was one place in the entire castle where you did not want to be during the winter, it was the dungeons. They were already disgustingly cold and permanently damp under normal conditions, but the colder months made them almost unbearable. And so on this particular Friday night in early January, as Severus was working in his classroom, the temperature was so low that he could see his own breath.

He was slowly walking around the room, placing a sheet of paper on each of the student desks one by one. His first class after the weekend would be the second year Slytherins and Gryffindors, and he had prepared an especially difficult surprise exam for them. He obviously knew that none of them had studied for Potions over the holidays, but he did not care – after all, there was a reason for his reputation as the meanest teacher at this school. But always one to favour his own house over those troublesome Gryffindors, he was planning on casually dropping a small hint while conducting his weekly visit of the common room the following day.

Now, one might think that Severus was simply being a very diligent teacher who liked to make sure that all of his tasks were done ahead of time – which was true. But on this specific day, his actions had an added motive as he was trying to distract himself from the fact that today was his 38th birthday.

He had never been one to attach much significance to the date that marked the anniversary of him taking his first breath. Truthfully, he could not remember the last time he had celebrated it; it had always just been a day like any other. But this year, it was different. This year, he had been loathing its arrival. Why? Well, because turning a year older merely served as yet another reminder of how messed up this attraction to his student really was. It pulled him out of a dream world in which he was not her professor, in which he was not a lot older than her and in which he still had a chance to get with her. A twenty-year age gap – how could he not feel like detestable reprobate?

Deep in thought, he startled at a sudden knock at the door.

“Professor!” Sticking her head through the open crack, Hermione immediately started to beam from ear to ear once she spotted him in the poorly lit room. “There you are! You know, after checking your office and your rooms, I almost thought you had vanished into thin air!”

Severus was completely nonplussed. “Wha-”

But before he could even get a proper word in, her head swiftly disappeared behind the door again. After about ten seconds of weird noises and sounds – and even the occasional swearing under breath – the door was pushed open to reveal a party hat wearing Hermione Granger, a lit Muggle sparkler in one hand and a relatively large gift box in the other. Taking five big steps into the room, she arrived in front of him and held out the package with both hands, almost risking setting it ablaze with her hand-held firework.

“Happy, happy birthday, sir!”

The wizard was speechless. He felt like a young pubescent boy all over again as all he could do was stare dumbfounded at this perfect woman standing across from him. After a long day of studying, this wonderful creature had made her way into the glum dungeons to congratulate him, even putting in the effort of wearing one of those ridiculous paper cones on her head. Severus did not know what he had done to deserve her. Just two minutes ago, he had hated himself and the world and had wanted nothing more than for this day to be over. But like the wind, she had swooped in and brightened his day, completely overwhelming him with emotions. The way she was looking at him, full of excitement and joy, and the beautiful colour of her rosy cheeks made his knees weak. Who knew that he would one day find happiness like this in a friend of Harry Potter?

“Come on, open it!”

Her exclamation abruptly brought him back to reality. Trying hard to ignore how inviting her plump lips were looking at that very moment, he accepted the box before replying, “Another gift, Hermione? You really should not start to make a habit of this. Otherwise, some might begin to think that you are trying to bribe your way through school.”

“Oh, stop it!” she called out, the delightful melody of her laughter filling his ears.

“But why would you get me a birthday gift? Apprentices do not have to give their tutors anything; it’s not part of the tradition.”

“I know,” said Hermione as she placed the now burned-out sparkler on the desk next to her. “But I just wanted to.”

Severus felt his heart melting. He truly did not deserve her. She was too good for him, an angel.

Opening the lid of the box with a shaky hand, he pulled out some sort of emerald-coloured piece of fabric.

“What is this?” he asked confused.

“It’s a jumper!” she said, taking the garment from him and holding it out so he could properly see it. Indeed, it was a deep green pullover made of thick wool. “I know you normally only wear black, but I thought that this shade would go well with your light complexion, and it also fits your house colours! So even if you won’t wear it on the daily, it would at least be good for Quidditch games.”

He had to admit that he was amazed by how much thought she had put into this. “Hermione, I appreciate this greatly, but you really should not have spent your money on me. I thank you from the bottom of my heart; however, I cannot accept this gift.”

“But I didn’t spend anything. I made it myself! I asked Mrs Weasley for help as I’m not really acquainted with the art of magical knitting. I didn’t tell her why I wanted to learn it, of course; but you wouldn’t believe how excited she was to pass on her secret housewife tips and tricks to me. I guess that Ginny has always been a little too much of a tomboy for her.” She let out a small snicker.

Severus experienced a warm sensation spread from his middle all the way to his fingers and toes. Not only had she remembered his birthday, but she had also taken time out of her busy day to carefully craft this sweater for him – no one had ever genuinely cared this much for him!

“Hermione.” He had to swallow as it suddenly felt as though he had a frog in his throat. “Would you perhaps like to join me in my quarters for a cup of tea? Plain, of course."

(CHAPTER 21 COMING SOON!)

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balizardsnakething · 3 years

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TW DRAMA AND ME ACTING ON MY EMOTIONS CAUSE OF THIS POST

Granted I did post this after sending her an apology and I’m glad I now have official confirmation that she has seen said apology. The very fact that I have sent an apology means that I had got over the situation and just didn’t care about it anymore. I also tagged @toomanyfamdom because we thought it was ✨funny✨ and have gotten over the situation (unlike some).

It should also be noted that I haven’t had any contact with Maddy since everything that happened and at least had the decency to send an apology and move on. Also, for the record, I had nothing to do with that list of toxicity. That list was put together and shown to me by my friends. I then continued to FORWARD THE SAME MESSAGE to Maddy because I disagreed with the list.

Let’s see, shall we? Up first on the list of hell that I had nothing to do with (and disagree with) there is... “inconsiderate of time zones and peoples family life.” This eventually turned out to be accurate, not just for me but for many others. Madison would organise events like DnD games at UNGODLY hours in the morning (because she is in American time zones) and when us British people were unable to turn up she would kick them from the game and then proceed to shame their character for an hour. Granted her uncle did pass (im very sorry for your loss), but that had nothing to do with anything. Many of us (including myself) helped Maddy and were there for her, and I have plenty of messages to prove it.

ANOTHER thing to do with time is when I was added to one of the greatest Instagram group chats in the world! However, my sleep was abruptly ruined when Maddy group-called the chat at 4am because she wanted to play Minecraft with a friend. Please direct call next time... thanks.

Whilst on the subject of time family life, one of the most memorable things this girl did was shame me and attack me on one of the discord servers we were both on. What made this even worse was that I had an audition for a London West End theatre school which had the power to change my LIFE. And Maddy knew this and also knew that it was worrying me and that I was extremely stressed about it. You may say ‘oh, it's just a coincidence’. If you believe that please explain why said post tagged everyone and was posted 5 mins before my audition. Maddy knew this would stress me out, I spoke about the audition and my ability to read into things many times before and she knew this would get to me! A lot of the things Maddy did were petty shit, but then again, that’s who she is.

Next up is... “shows blatant favouritism.” Well, it’s no surprise Maddy has so many friends! But which ones does she actually care about? My friends and I witness this first hand on many occasions, one of which being another DnD game where she was the dungeon master. Maddy made the turn order by (and I quote’, “the order is in who I love the most.” This caused some of us to feel a little uncomfortable, but we continued until Maddy put each character on a path to different destinations and explained which each path was. By the time it got to me, my dyspraxia/dyslexia couldn't hold the information, and I asked Maddy to explain them all again. Maddy agreed and but then ended with, “You just used up you go, Charley.” I was so confused! Apparently, explanations waste a turn??? But this was fine by me until Maddy explained the destinations to another player, but this time, she let them choose where they wanted to go instead of keeping them on the bench, awaiting their turn. Maddy would also allow people to have longer goes/round claiming that there was more to their story. My turn would be around 2mins where someone else would be 5. Again, petty shit which still happens to make people upset.

Note: It was not just me who felt this way! Many others slid into my dms because they felt upset with how Maddy treated others but not themselves.

Up next is, “making your best friend feel like shit for making a joke”. Another reminder, this list wasn’t written by me, it was written by my friend who was watching from the outside. And this is very true. I would often make jokes with people about Donald Trump and America because their laws and president (not anymore) were stupid. This always seemed to annoy Maddy and hurt her feelings. I would often make a throwaway comment but end up feeling bad about it because Maddy would leave the call. I always felt like I was walking on thin ice with her because if I said something even remotely controversial, she would not speak to me and leave the call. This really hurt me because I cared about my friends a heck of a lot and never wanted to ruin any relationships with them. I would send countless messages to Maddy, apologising and crying to her, telling her not to be mad at me. THAT 👏🏻 IS 👏🏻 A 👏🏻 TOXIC 👏🏻 RELATIONSHIP 👏🏻 One joke shouldn’t be the be-all and end-all of a friendship,, but that is what It always felt like! Also, Maddy never specified it was a trigger until recently, and even after she did say it was a trigger, I held back so she could feel comfortable.

The final thing is: “made you feel bad for your emotions.” Madison needs to learn that EVERYONE IS DIFFERENT and that people deal with things in different ways. Not everyone is smart, sensitive or skinny like she is. Whenever anyone hurt my friends, I would lash out and act upon my emotions because I didn’t know what else to do. This is something Maddy heavily criticised me for and something that eventually resulted in me listening to high-frequency sounds so I could get rid of my emotions and feel numb. My logic was that I didn’t want to hurt anyone ever again by jumping the gun and acting upon emotion. But thanks to others, I was pulled out of that loop, and I’ve learnt to use logic and reason as well as emotion.

As for “breaking my heart”. Yes. Our friendship ending did hurt me, a lot. Just like everything with you, it is very one-sided. I was reaching out, listening and trying to help Maddy repair relationships with people whom she’d hurt. We both said equally bad things which made the ‘relationship’ toxic, and I would just like to point out that the name, ‘evil Maddy’ is cringe and I’m ashamed I was ever friends with you considering you used that in a callout post. /hj

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

Sarcasm aside, ima be real here because I am not afraid to tell my side of the story. So, @ thenameisnoone / Maddy. Here is a long-ass response to the post you made about me. xx

Look, I’m not going to call you out or use Politics_notmything to cancel you because I’m not like that. I’m an actual good person who really tried with Maddy and dis my best to change myself to make her feel comfortable. I left a group chat with all my friends for a week and blamed it on ‘family issues’ because I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. I made an entire Birthday PowerPoint for her, which included some of my best and favourite bootlegs. I made a genuine effort, but Maddy didn't really do anything else but tell me to “calm down” or “not throw everything away and give in to anger or despair and calm down until you can think rationally and make a logical decision”.

And I’m glad I actually saw this because this is a classic Maddy move. She argues with people, builds up a situation then removes/blocks them, so they cant see everything she’s saying about them (i have proof of this from a server im in.) It has happened before, and she manipulated people into believing her side of the story.

“I am allowed to block people who lie to me about serious topics even though they have trust issues which makes them unable, to tell the truth, if it hurts them. I am allowed to talk to people who blow up on me before hearing my side of things where they would have realised what they thought is wrong even though I dont get back to people until 3am and decide to leave them on delivered/read for days at a time when I am happily talking in other servers. I am allowed to block people who accuse me of shit-talking them with my friends who I introduced them to (and I never do that) when I have only defended them and said friends genuinely were being nice to them even if they have proof. I am allowed to block people. Period.” - Maddy

And I’m not saying Maddy isn't allowed to block people. It’s a free world. Im just defending myself :)

Granted, Maddy did defend me and say that this situation shouldn’t change anyone opinions on me, and I can say the same. Just because I had a terrible experience with Maddy, doesn’t mean she is a bad person and I encourage anyone online who loves women’s’ history and WATT to befriend her.

But being honest, she did also call me a bitch on a Tumblr callout post, so I had to come and write this all down for safekeeping and reblogging purposes. Im not a bitch, and that is why I’m not using my following to cancel her. But anyway, we both had some shit experiences with each other so you can read this and make up your own mind even though I did back her up with the previous call-out post, sent her my support, apologised and didn’t block her when she was at a bad time in her life or when she needed help. If anyone has a problem with me posting this, please contact me via DM.

Sorry, not sorry ‘bout what I said. I’m just tired of your petty shit.

#it was supposed to be a joke #u took it too far #like u always do #please just move on #your causing so much unnecessary drama #no offence #but this is just stupid #also dont presume in not gonna find out #can we also talk about how #i destroyed my mental health for u #cos u wanted someone to spy for u #cos u were once again #BEING PETTY #also florida sucks #i just thought id mention #make sure ya'll vote biden next time

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tomeandflickcorner · 4 years

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Episode Review- The Real Ghostbusters: Who’re You Calling Two-Dimensional?

Well, I’ll say this much; this episode kept me entertained.

Hey, remember that machine we’ve seen Egon working on occasionally, ever since When Halloween was Forever? It’s finally finished! Turns out, he was building a Spectral Differentializer. The purpose of this particular machine is to conduct examinations of ghosts in order to see what they’re made of. As the episode opens, the Ghostbusters are using it to analyze Slimer, since he’s the only ghost willing to cooperate with them. Obviously, this whole scene is really cool, as it gives us a reminder that 3/4 of the Ghostbusters were originally parapsychologists that studied the paranormal. So the fact that they’re attempting to chart out the actual anatomy and physiological makeup of a ghost is very fitting. However, Ray observes that the Spectral Differentializer generates a good amount of heat. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except for one tiny detail. Turns out that, prior to being analyzed by the Spectral Differentializer, Slimer apparently ate a sizable amount of corn. And what happens when you heat up corn kernels?

Yeeeepppp. In no time at all, Egon’s lab is completely flooded by popcorn. So much so that Janine is momentarily buried by a wave of popcorn when she comes to knock on the door in order to inform the Ghostbusters that they’d received a call. Of course, we’re not shown what exactly they do with the excess popcorn as the next scene shows the Ghostbusters heading off in the Ecto-1. So I can only conclude they left the task of clearing up the mess to Janine. Let’s hope they gave her a generous bonus with her next paycheck. (Then again, maybe Janine managed to make a few extra bucks by selling the popcorn to the local movie theater.)

The call the Ghostbusters received brings them to Fleischman Studios, an in-universe animation studio founded by Walt Fleischman. Apparently, Walt Fleischman is supposed to be a homage to both Walt Disney and Max & Dave Fleischer. The current caretaker of the old animation studio explains the history of the studio to the Ghostbusters as she leads them through the halls. As she states, Walt Fleischman was a true genius, and the cartoons he released were years ahead of their time. But in the 1940s, Walt Fleischman mysteriously disappeared without a trace and hasn’t been seen or heard from since. Recently though, strange sounds have been heard coming from what was once Walt Fleischman’s private studio, which is why the Ghostbusters were called in. Ray and Winston are particularly excited to be there, as they both grew up watching Fleischman’s cartoons. Though, as they begin their search in Walt’s private studio, Egon notes that he’s not getting anything on the PKE Meter. Until a cartoon door suddenly appears behind Winston. To investigate, Egon opens up the door, and the Ghostbusters are pulled through the door by a strong gust of wind. The moment they fall through the door, it vanishes as quickly as it appeared.

On the other side of the door, the Ghostbusters soon come to realize they somehow ended up in a completely different dimension that runs on cartoon logic. For instance, they’re completely surrounded by darkness until they flip a light switch that just happened to be hovering nearby. The moment the ‘lights’ switch on, they find themselves surrounded by absolutely nothing. There’s no sky, ground or any sort of object anywhere. As Egon concludes, they’re pretty much standing on a blank slate. At that moment, an anthropomorphic duck with a Viking helmet runs past them, waving a sword. Winston is quick to recognize the duck as Conqueror Duck, one of the many cartoon characters created by Walt Fleischman. Moments later, Ricky Roach, another one of Walt Fleischman’s creations, appears on the scene, driving a miniature-sized Early American style car. For some reason, after Ricky Roach drives off, Peter inexplicitly jumps into the air. Much higher than should be humanly possible. Not sure why he jumped in the first place, but whatever. Of course, because they’re in Cartoon World, normal physics don’t exist, and Peter continues to rise higher and higher into the air. In order to help Peter get down, Winston suggests that he think of a cliff. The moment Peter does so, a cliff suddenly appears above him, stopping his assent abruptly.

Once Peter is firmly back on the ‘ground,’ the Ghostbusters began to head off in a random direction, figuring that, if they managed to find a way into Cartoon World, there has to be a way for them to get back out again. As they make their way along, we get a pretty decent 4th Wall joke. Winston asks ‘if we’re in a cartoon, where’s the audience?’ In response, Ray points out towards the viewers, saying ‘I guess they’re over there.’ Personally, my overall opinion of sudden 4th wall breaking moments largely depends on how it’s executed. There are times when I just cannot stand them. Like in J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan, when Peter starts openly addressing the reader/audience, asking them to clap in order to save Tinkerbell. And in the second Care Bears movie, when True Heart does the same thing when Christy’s life is at stake. Those kind of 4th wall breaks make me quite uncomfortable. But this one, I didn’t mind. I thought it was pretty well-executed. Though I can’t say why I was fine with this sort of 4th wall break when I detest the sort utilized in Peter Pan and Care Bears 2. Maybe that’s a mystery a licensed therapist can help unravel.

Before long, the Ghostbusters hear a voice calling out for help. Immediately they run towards the voice and end up in a city street. They track down the pleas for help to a factory, where yet another Fleischman creation is. This is Winchester Wolf, and he is not alone. To the amazement of the Ghostbusters, Winchester Wolf is holding the actual Walt Fleischman captive, subjecting the famous animator to various torments by forcing him to experience every single cartoony mishap and pratfall he’d put his animated creations through over the years. The Ghostbusters decide to come to Walt’s aid, speculating that, since he created these cartoons, he must know of a way to get out of Cartoon World. They promptly charge into the factory to try and save Walt from Winchester Wolf’s torments. And for some reason, Winchester Wolf seems to know who the Ghostbusters are. Which doesn’t make any sense, when you think about it. How exactly does this animated cartoon character know who the Ghostbusters are? Winchester Wolf was created by Walt Fleicshman, and Walt has apparently been trapped in Cartoon World for the past 40 years. Considering Peter, Ray, Egon and Winston might not have even been born by the time Walt went missing, the Ghostbusters didn’t exist back then. Regardless of the obvious plothole, Winchester Wolf manages to effortlessly thwart the Ghostbusters’ attempt at rescuing Walt by opening up a trapdoor that they all fall through. The Ghostbusters are then instantly transported into the middle of a desert. Which also appears to be located on the surface of this cube thing that Winchester Wolf has in his possession. Because cartoon logic.

Because they have no other options, the Ghostbusters begin to walk aimlessly across the desert. As they trudge onwards, Ray starts to wonder about the whereabouts of some of the other Fleischman creations. Namely the Good Guy characters, such as Dopey Dog. Remembering how, in the cartoons, Dopey Dog often said that all you had to do was call, Ray begins to sing what I’m assuming was Dopey Dog’s theme song. “Dopey Dog, Dopey Dog, flying through the air. Dopey Dog, Dopey Dog, flying everywhere. Come on boy we need you. Don't let us down. Dopey Dog, Dopey Dog, we need you!” Sure enough, when Ray completes the song, Dopey Dog instantly appears before them. Though it’s probably worth noting that this Dopey Dog doesn’t resemble the Dopey Dog plushie that appeared in the earlier episode, The Bogeyman Cometh. Back then, the plushie they featured was that of a generic brown dog. But here, Dopey Dog is a white furred sheepdog wearing an outfit that’s not unlike the one worn by DC’s Captain Marvel/Shazam. Maybe Dopey Dog underwent a character redesign at some point. I guess that’s possible.

Dopey Dog proceeds to tell the Ghostbusters the whole backstory of how the whole mess began. He explains that, years ago, Walt Fleischman was known for making cartoons that seemed almost alive. It turns out that Walt believed in his animated creations and wanted them to actually be real so much, his imagination somehow created an actual dimension in which his cartoon characters were actual beings. From that point on, all Walt had to do was simply photograph his characters onto film. But that was when Walt made a serious mistake. He ended up creating entirely new characters. Namely Winchester Wolf, a character that was simply evil through and through from the very start. It turned out that Winchester Wolf wasn’t just pure evil, he was too strong to be controlled. And one day, Winchester Wolf managed to open up a portal between Cartoon World and the Real World and abducted Walt Fleischman. Which explains why he went missing 40 years ago. And because of the unwritten rules of Cartoon World, Walt was prevented from aging, which explains why he hasn’t aged a day since he was abducted. After Dopey Dog’s tale is completed, the Ghostbusters ask him why he didn’t do anything to stop Winchester Wolf. After all, Dopey Dog is the hero of Fleischman’s cartoons. To this, Dopey Dog states it is one thing to play a hero in cartoons. Actually being one is another matter. However, the Ghostbusters are not deterred by this, announcing that they intend to rescue Walt Fleischman and get back home. And nothing is going to stop them.

Naturally, they’re immediately punished for this confidence. Because in Cartoon World, saying that nothing is going to stop them is about as bad as saying ‘it can’t get any worse.’ At that moment, Conqueror Duck appears once again, stating that Winchester Wolf sent him. He then uses the laws of cartoon logic to create a large cliff that Peter, Ray and Winston are forced to cling to. When Peter mentions he wants to get down, Conqueror Duck complies by effortlessly shoving the cliff over, and Peter, Ray and Winston start to plummet down. Egon, who is still down below with Dopey Dog, realizes that his friends would most certainly be killed from the fall. Fortunately Dopey Dog has an idea. They can simply move the lake that’s featured on a random animation cell that had just happened to appear nearby. Of course, this doesn’t really sit well with Egon, as the whole concept of physically moving a body of water is completely illogical. Still, he goes along with it, and he and Dopey Dog reposition the lake so the others will simply fall into the water and survive the fall. And then, to alleviate the issue of them being soaking wet upon emerging from the lake, Dopey Dog instructs them to simply walk out of frame and then come back. Which results in Ray, Peter and Winston becoming completely dry again. As one might expect, this proves to be simply too much for poor Egon, as all this cartoon logic is clashing with his sensible nature.

Finally, Dopey Dog seems to be willing to try and help the Ghostbusters return to their world, but he speculates that it might be quite dangerous, and it will require them to travel to the very edge of Cartoon World. The Ghostbusters agree to try whatever Dopey Dog has in mind. And so, they head off, with Dopey Dog rounding up the rest of Fleischman’s cartoon characters to assist them: Ronald Rooster, Foxey, Felicia Feline, Sinclair Squirrel and George Gopher. Together, they all gather to where Winchester Wolf is currently busy pelting cream pies at Walt Fleischman, with Conqueror Duck, Ricky Roach and some other cartoon bad guys the episode doesn’t actually name standing nearby. And it’s here that the final battle starts, with Dopey Dog and his allies fighting Winchester Wolf’s minions. When the Ghostbusters try to join in, however, they quickly discover their Proton Packs don’t work in Cartoon World.

Fortunately, the Ghostbusters manage to get away from the fight and approach Walt Fleischman, who had been freed from the ropes holding him thanks to a cartoon mole. The Ghostbusters began to lead Walt away. Upon seeing this, Winchester Wolf, who is currently dueling with Dopey Dog, states that there’s nowhere the Ghostbusters can bring Walt that he won’t be able to reach him. In response to this statement, Dopey Dog calls out to his allies, instructing them to do what must be done. In compliance, Ronald Rooster, Foxey and the others began to tear at the edge of the film, which causes the filmstrip Cartoon World exists on to break in half. As Cartoon World’s reality starts to crumble around them, Dopey Dog urges the Ghostbusters to continue on towards the giant film projector that’s suddenly appeared before them, as doing so will return them to their home. When Ray asks Dopey Dog what’ll happen to him, Dopey Dog tells them to not worry about such a thing. Which is clearly meant to indicate that Cartoon World and everyone in it will most likely disappear for good. Which possibly means Dopey Dog and all the others will likewise cease to exist. Especially since we clearly hear Winchester Wolf stating that he can’t exist without Walt. Quite a heroic sacrifice from Dopey Dog and his friends, if that’s the case. It means they’re willingly giving their lives to help save the man who created them.

So, after a few tense moments, the Ghostbusters and Walt manage to escape Cartoon World in the nick of time, emerging safely back in Fleischman Studios. Walt Fleischman expresses his gratitude towards the Ghostbusters for successfully rescuing him and returning him back home, stating that he doesn’t know how to properly thank them. Ray, however, seems to have an idea, announcing that, once Walt has had a chance to properly adjust to the culture shock he’s bound to face as he adapts to how much the world has changed in the past 40 years, there IS something he can do. Of course, the others have no idea what Ray is thinking. And they don’t find out until an undetermined amount of time later, when Janine enters their bedroom back at the Firehouse in the early hours of the morning in order to wake Ray up and let him know that ‘it’s here.’ Turns out, the reward Ray requested was a life-sized Dopey Dog doll. Peter, Winston and Egon all groan at this reveal, but Ray isn’t bothered by their unenthusiastic response, deciding that they just don’t understand. And then, in the last few seconds, the Dopey Dog doll turns his head and beams at Ray. So….are we supposed to conclude that the Dopey Dog doll is the actual Dopey Dog? Was this the episode’s way of reassuring us that the cartoon characters are still okay after all? It’s not very clear either way.

Still, this was a very imaginative episode. And serious props to how it did a good job at highlighting the main traits of each of the Ghostbusters. Peter as the wisecracker, Ray as the enthusiastic one with a childlike demeanor, Winston as the straight-man and Egon as the man driven by seriousness and logic. Plus, it contains another one of those moments that emphasize the always enjoyable camaraderie between Egon and Peter, which occurs when Peter is teasing Egon over the incident involving the Spectral Differentializer and the popcorn.

Egon: Peter, do you know how to set your Proton Pack on explosive overload?

Peter: No.

Egon: I do.

Peter: [Pause] Now that I think about it, it was a good effort, Egon! Ah, a really, really good effort! Heh, science would be proud!

I could easily watch an entire episode focused solely on those two interacting. They really play well off each other.

(Click here for more Ghostbusters reviews)

#the real ghostbusters #rgb episode review #ghostbusters franchise

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queercode-my-minecraft · 5 years

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Flag to the Heart Part Two | Pride Prompt

Words: 1008

Relationship/s: romantic Analogical

Warnings: crying, brief mentions of kissing, running away from your probelms (like you do)

Notes: This is 1008 words of pure mess that hasn’t been corrected because I’m writing this at the last minute don’t look at me you do it too and yeah, Virgil is Demiboy, uses they/them and he/him pronouns. Btw this is the second part of my other Flag to the Heart, because I’m unoriginal with title names and this is based in the same universe

Virgil wasn’t one to purposefully hide their identity, especially not to their friends, who were the most open and accepting teenagers he had ever met (and of teenagers they had met countless, as they had been forced to change to a new school every time they and their family moved).

They weren’t one to flaunt their sexuality (for example coming to school draped in their flag, like Roman) and hadn’t even bothered coming out, except to their parents. Maybe it had been this sort of carelessness, which was unusual in Virgil Alighieri, that had resulted in them not owning any sort of Pride flag.

Which they didn’t know they desired so much until one fateful afternoon.

It had been a calm day, school had sucked, they had daydreamed of a certain friend of theirs during class and hadn’t eaten alone at a table during lunch. If you had asked them, they would have answered that life was starting to look up for them. Finally the aching loneliness that had accompanied them for years had started to dissipate into the void.

Climbing into the window of Logan’s bedroom, as it had become some sort of tradition through the passing months, they got greeted by the sight of the boy, holding a wrapped gift, a tiny smug smile on his face.

Logan wasn’t one to let down his walls so easily, especially in public or around people he wanted to impress, but, around Virgil some of them seemed to crumble to the ground. And, those tiny smiles that he offered Virgil, was what shone from the crumbled rocks.

Learning to cherish them hadn’t been hard, especially since it always made their heart flutter wildly.

“Open it, it’s a present for you.”

“A present?”

Asked Virgil, voice clear in disbelief, as they received the parcel and began unwrapping it. When opened, their jaw dropped, staring at the neatly folded fabric that was now in shining in their hands.

“It’s a-”

“Demiboy flag. I thought it might be an adequate gift since you don’t seem to have-”

Logan never finished his sentence as Virgil’s lips crashed against his, immediately melting in a soft kiss.

It was short and sweet, and even as they kissed Logan, fingers deep into his hair, it didn’t seem true. Didn’t seem true until it abruptly ended, with Logan staggering backwards.

Virgil was buzzing, frazzled in every sense of the word, missing the warmth that had come with Logan. The aforementioned, though, was having quite the opposite reaction.

Everything in his body was screaming to run, pushing the memory of Virgil away from him, far away and leaving only panic and guilt. What had he done?

“Logan?”

But, Logan had already disappeared, running out of the room, tears starting to prickle from his eyes.

____

Logan hadn’t spoken to him in a week a half.

Which was driving him crazy, to say the least. He, also knew, though, that trying to press and get information out of Logan would serve to no purpose except scare him more. Which was what Virgil was trying desperately to avoid.

He couldn’t stop tormenting himself about what had just happened, about the kiss and Logan’s terrified gaze- losing sleep and becoming a wreck. It was not going well for him, and he could have bet that everyone was realising so. Even Logan, who chose to hide himself behind books, had realised that Virgil, from a vampire, had become a zombie of sorts.

That might be the reason why, during lunch one day, after Patton and Roman had ran out to discuss what the hell was happening between the two of them (surprise: it’s romance), Logan had closed his book, before staring intently at Virgil.

“What? Why are you staring?”

“Why am I staring? The more appropriate question is why you’re acting so-” he made a vague, frustrated movement with his hand. “-not inadequate. Just- not yourself! Not Virgil, not- not-”

A groan left the smaller boy, as Virgil just silently watched him, before taking the book from the paper.

Sherlock Holmes. Of course.

“You’re telling me that you see that I’m acting unnatural, but, you can’t understand that you running away, after we had /just kissed, isn’t linked?” Seethed Virgil, before letting the book drop and getting up himself.

“I- Virgil? Where are you going?”

As Logan had started to talk, Virgil had began walking towards the exit, hiding himself in his hoodie and trying his best to ignore Logan.

“Out.”

He grumbled as he heard footsteps rush towards him as he reached the first corridor that took to the exit of the dreadful place.

“Virgil you can’t just say that you’re going “Out” without even explaining yourself-”

“Because I’m the one who hasn’t explained myself, huh?”

The silence between the two stretched for long moments, enough to make Virgil if Logan was still incessantly following him.

However, he was reminded of his presence once they reached the outside of the building, when he grasped he took his hand, forcing Virgil to turn around and stare down at Logan.

“I- I didn’t want to make you upset. I- I didn’t think of the consequences-”

“Yeah, you didn’t and…” His eyes began stinging, as the weigh around his heart that he had been bearing, began unfurling. “It wasn’t nice Lo. It really wasn’t- did- do you know how much did I think about you running away, that I- I cried because I didn’t know what to do? Do you-”

His words were cut to a short by soft lips.

It was then that Virgil noticed that tears had began falling from both of their faces, and that he unconsciously intertwined his fingers with Logan’s.

“I’m sorry- it’s- I- I don’t want to destroy something that has some chances to make you happy, I hope you’re aware of the fact that I care for your well being.” Murmured Logan, face still inches away from Virgil’s face, which was making it incredibly hard to think about anything but the other.

“Well, that’s nice to hear, Starlight.”

#virgil sanders #logan sanders #analogical #sanders sides #demiboy! virgil #trans! virgil #romantic! analogical #sam writes #aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah why did i choose to participate #fuuuuuuuuuuuck

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today-only-happens-once · 5 years

Text

With Great Power - Chapter 2

Title: With Great Power – Chapter 2

First Chapter | Next Chapter | Read on AO3

Fic Summary: Thomas Sanders is just a regular social media personality. But when he gets bit by a spider during filming one of his YouTube videos, his whole life is about to turn upside down—whether he (or the aspects of his personality) want it to or not. Platonic LAMP/CALM + Character!Thomas. Spider-Man AU (but more the concept of Spider-Man and contains no spoilers for any particular movie/comic series).

Word Count: 3522

Chapter warnings: some panicking, arguing, cursing, some doubting of reality (briefly), discussion/use of Cartoon Therapy, some spoilers for Danny Phantom, vertigo/nausea mention, falling furniture.

A/N: 2019 is off to a crazy hectic start. Sorry for the wait. Hopefully it was worth it! Special shout-out to @creativenostalgiastuff for helping me when I got extra stuck in this chapter. Edited by yours truly, so all mistakes are mine. I would absolutely love to know what you think.

WGP Taglist: @captain-loki-xavier, @magicpanda31, @the-peculiar-bi-tch, @mining-pup, @band-be-boss-blog, @asexual-trashbag, @samathekittycat, @why-should-i-tell-youu2, @theobsessor1, @princelogical, @vigilantvirgil, @always3charcoaltea, @changeling-ash, @logical-princey, @crimsonshadow323, @flickering-raven, @smokeyrutilequartz, @dontbugmeimantisocial (I’ll be keep this taglist separate from my normal one for organizational purposes. Please let me know if you’d like to be added!)

Thomas’s chest feels tight and uncomfortable. He wonders somewhere in the back of his mind if passing out would mean falling to the floor or if he’d just wake up still stuck to the ceiling of his bedroom. Thomas attempts to pulls his hands off his ceiling—praying that his feet would still stick to the wall so that he wouldn’t fall face-first in the floor—but they don’t budge.

“Why can’t you let go, Thomas?” Virgil demands in that deep distorted voice, the words falling out of his mouth in a jumbled panic. “Just pull!”

“I’m trying, Virgil,” Thomas snaps, an edge of panic in his own voice. “It’s not that easy!”

“What do you---” Virgil cuts himself off, pulling at the strings of his hoodie. He takes a breath. “Can someone else get in here, maybe?”

Thomas wasn’t sure who he was expecting to come to their aid, but it certainly wasn’t all three of them at once. Virgil’s hood is pulled so low over his face that his eyes aren’t visible, but the other Sides aren’t looking at him anyway. Roman’s jaw falls slack at the sight of their host clinging to the ceiling with his feet against the wall. Patton scratches the back of his head, his brows pulled together in confusion.

Logan’s eyes are wide. “Fascinating,” he says quietly, mostly to himself, but the room is dead silent except for the Logical Side’s voice. “Utterly fascinating.”

“This is probably just a dream. It’s not like it’s real,” Thomas insists, although now that he’s said it out loud, he can hear in his own voice how much he doesn’t believe it. He looks desperately at Roman across the room for confirmation.

Roman shoots Thomas an apologetic grimace. “Uh…” He rubs the back of his head awkwardly. “I’m afraid that while I may be the dreamer here, it’s more in a more… figurative, metaphorical sense.”

“Regardless,” Logan supplies, “a guaranteed way to wake up while asleep is through experiencing the sensation of falling.”

Thomas feels his stomach squirm at the same time Virgil makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Bad idea,” Virgil snaps, his voice still distorted.

“Yeah, I don’t really want to faceplant into the floor and break my neck.”

Logan glances at the floor below Thomas, then back up at the host. “Unlikely to occur from that distance. Besides, if we’re careful, you may even land perfectly fine on your feet. And on the off chance you are dreaming, you won’t land at all. You will be awakened from your dream state.” He adjusts the knot of his tie. “While I must admit, Thomas, the likelihood that this is a dream seems predominantly rooted in wishful thinking rather than being substantiated in evidence, we might as well permanently remove that option from the list of reasonable explanations.”

Thomas sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. He can feel the blood rushing to his head from looking upside down at his personality traits, and it isn’t helping the vertigo. “Okay,” he says. “Except that I don’t know how to let go.”

Patton hums thoughtfully. “Well, what worked for the phone?”

Thomas hesitates, glancing at Virgil as he answers. “I… tried that breathing thing you taught me, and the phone just kinda fell.” Virgil meets Thomas’s gaze, his eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. Wordlessly, Virgil nods a little, and Thomas sees him close his eyes and take in a deep, slow breath.

Thomas’s legs swing off the wall. The slight pain in his shoulders from the sudden weight pulling him towards the ground reminds him of the times he’d hang limply from monkey bars as a kid.

“All right, Thomas,” Virgil says in a quiet, measured voice. “I think I’m gonna need your help getting us the rest of the way. Breathe in for four seconds.”

Thomas closes his eyes and follows his Anxious Side’s instructions. Virgil walks him through the exercise even though Thomas remembers it well. It’s oddly reassuring to hear the manifestation of his own Anxiety try to help him calm down. Like they’re in it together. Thomas can’t help but feel like that odd feeling of being less alone—even though Virgil is just a part of him—is really what helps ease the pit in his stomach.

Thomas yelps when Virgil gets to count 7 of breathing out as his fingers abruptly detach from the ceiling and he falls hard on the floor of his bedroom. He lands on his feet, but his legs aren’t ready for the sudden weight and collapse beneath him.

“Thomas!” Virgil cries out.

“I’m okay,” he assures him quickly, really not wanting to risk getting either of them worked up again. The last thing Thomas wants right now is to be stuck to the floor and have to go through it all over again. “Just surprised me. I’m good.”

All the same, Thomas doesn’t try to stand up just yet. He sits on the floor near some dirty laundry that hadn’t quite made it to the laundry basket in his closet and takes a deep breath. His mind is still reeling. He blinks a couple of times.

“You Gucci, Thomas?” Roman asks.

Thomas swallows. “I… don’t know,” he says honestly. “I mean… what the hell was that?”

“Well, we have confirmed one thing that it is not,” Logan supplies. “You fell, and yet are still here in this situation. Therefore, this is not a dream. It’s a reality.”

Thomas can feel Patton’s worried gaze linger on him as he pushes himself to his feet. The father figure figment’s eyebrows pull together. “So what does that mean?” he asks.

“A reality means that the events are not occurring within an imagined construction of thought or fantasy, but rather—”

“No, I—sorry. I didn’t mean ‘what is reality’,” Patton interrupts hurriedly, holding out his hands. “I meant, what does that… mean? For Thomas and… for us?”

The silence that meets the end of Patton’s question hangs heavy in the air. Thomas’s gaze flickers up across from him and falls on Roman. The Prince’s eyes are wide, and he holds Thomas’s gaze for a moment before he looks around at the other three. He scoffs with a note of incredulity.

“I mean… isn’t it obvious?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas is pretty sure he sees Logan bristle slightly. “To what are you referring, Roman?”

Roman raises his eyebrows as if genuinely surprised at everyone’s blank look. He gestures towards Thomas. “Thomas has super powers.”

Logan opens his mouth, then closes it, his eyes narrowing first at Roman and then at Thomas with something akin to curiosity.

Virgil rolls his eyes, but Thomas doesn’t miss the way his shoulders shift uncomfortably underneath his oversized hoodie. “Super powers?” he says. “You can’t be serious. Logan already established that this is reality. We’re not living in some comic book.”

Roman holds an overdramatic hand to his chest. “I’ll have you know, that conclusion is perfectly reasonable.”

“Explain,” Logan says, a finger on his mouth as if in deep thought. His eyes flicker briefly from Roman and back to Thomas. Thomas tries not to squirm under Logan’s steady, intense gaze. He feels like some sort of specimen under a microscope.

Roman gestures in a wide, sweeping arc towards Thomas. “It’s not as if normal people can stick to walls. And wasn’t it just yesterday that he was bit by a spider? A plus B equals C and all that.”

Virgil is shaking his head before Roman has even finished speaking. “Logan, isn’t it you who always said that correlation doesn’t necessarily mean causation?” His dark eyes flash a bit as he says it.

“Now, Virgil—” Patton tries, his voice placating, but Logan cuts him off.

“While that is true, Virgil,” he says slowly, “It was Sherlock Holmes himself who said ‘when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth’.”

“Ha!”

Logan continues, ignoring Roman’s shout of gloating victory. His gaze looks distant in thought. “Therefore, while it’s highly unlikely that Thomas gained any kind of superhuman capability from a simple spider bite, it cannot be entirely rejected as a possibility. The facts as they stand are that Thomas is not currently dreaming and he has exhibited capabilities that are beyond normal human ability. So far, that only includes sticking to phones, walls, and ceilings.”

Thomas stares at Logan. “Is the logical part of my brain actually saying that the idea that I might have super powers isn’t completely impossible?”

Logan flashes him a dry, unamused look. “Yes. This is already a highly improbable circumstance. The explanations in relation to it are likely to be equally improbable. Therefore, since I can’t definitively prove that super powers do not exist, I can’t fully rule it out as a possibility.”

“I…” Thomas starts to say, but trails off. He rakes a hand back through his hair and blows out a breath. He squeezes his eyes shut against his reeling thoughts. He has super powers? Does that make him like some kind of super hero? Is he supposed to crawl on walls and ceilings and drop down and somehow rescue people from…what? Some unidentified danger?

Thomas looks to his left towards Patton. His Moral Side is looking worriedly at him, his brows pulled together in thought. “Patton?” he asks, his voice sounding smaller than he expected it to, even to his own ears. “You doing okay with all of this?”

Patton sighs, averting his gaze with a small shrug. “Honestly, kiddo? I’m… not sure.” He glances up, then across the room towards Virgil. “Maybe we all just need a minute to process this.”

Thomas rubs the pads of his fingers over his eyes and shakes his head. “I…” he says. He knows that Patton may have a point, but it all feels like too much too fast. He suddenly wants everything to just stop for a minute, but it won’t and he knows it. “I don’t have time for this right now. Joan is waiting on me for filming.”

He snatches the pair of jeans and dark t-shirt he’d chosen from his closet and changes quickly.

“Thomas,” Patton says as Thomas tugs the shirt over his head with perhaps a bit more force than was really necessary, “Are you sure we shouldn’t… stay home for the day until we figure out what’s going on? We could tell Joan you… caught a bug?”

“Is now really the time for puns, Patton?” Logan asks dryly.

“I don’t know,” Thomas replies as he brushes past Virgil and snatches the phone off his bed. “Right now, I just want to focus on the things that I do know. So I’m gonna go film the rest of this Cartoon Therapy episode, and when I get back I’ll… we’ll figure it out.”

Even Logan looks a bit concerned as Thomas sits on the bed and jams his feet into the closest pair of sneakers he can find. “I’m not sure that is wise, Thomas.”

Thomas doesn’t reply as he pushes through the door and closes it behind him with an echoing bang.

…

“Sorry I’m late,” Thomas says as he rushes into the familiar office space half an hour later.

Joan already has the lighting fixtures and camera set up in front of the couch. Thomas drops his bag in the corner and shoves the bangs falling into his eyes back into his hair. He tries to flash Joan an apologetic smile, but from the way their brows furrow in concern, Thomas has the feeling it probably looked more like a grimace.

“It’s okay, dude,” Joan says. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” Thomas says, hoping he sounds more confident than he feels. For a brief moment, he thinks about telling them. But he wouldn’t even really know what to say, and he has a feeling that it wouldn’t exactly help Joan’s evident concern if he told them he’d somehow found his way stuck to the ceiling of his bedroom and that he now thinks he maybe has super powers. “Just… a weird morning,” he says instead.

He can feel their lingering gaze on him as he turns to grab his laptop out of his bag. “Wanna talk about it?” they ask.

“Not really,” Thomas replies honestly. “I think I should probably just focus on filming.” He sits in the chair across the brown couch and opens his computer, pulling up the needed software and studiously ignoring Joan’s eyes.

“Okay,” Joan says after a moment. Thomas feels his shoulders relax a bit. “I was thinking we’d finish up filming Elliot’s scenes nad get what we’re missing of Picani’s. We got the last of Corbin and Sloane yesterday, so we should be good on that. And Valerie is doing her filming tomorrow.”

As Joan walks through the schedule, Thomas feels himself nodding along and doing his best to not let his thoughts drift. The normalcy of it all—the familiarity of the office, the routine of filming, hearing Joan lay out a concrete plan for the next couple of days—helps quell the jitteriness he’d felt the entire drive over. He can focus on the things he knows. The things that are familiar to him. And as he does so, he feels like it’s a little easier to breathe.

“So what do you want to tackle first? Since it’s just us to film today, we can kinda do whatever,” Joan says.

Thomas shrugs. “I think Picani is gonna take longer, so maybe we should start with that.”

Joan nods their agreement, and Thomas grabs Picani’s costume and changes quickly in the bathroom before hurrying back. He adjusts the pastel green tie as he takes his seat in the office chair. Joan has the camera set up and Thomas glances into the viewfinder and adjusts his hair slightly as they grab the laptop and pull it up into their lap.

“You ready?” Joan asks.

Thomas gives them a smile, and it feels a little more natural this time. “Yeah.”

Joan tugs the beanie down a little as it starts to slide back on their head, typing a few thing on the laptop before nodding. “Cool. We’re picking up in the scene with Elliot, right?”

Thomas agrees, grabbing the notebook off the shelf behind him. Joan, carefully balancing the laptop on their legs, grabs the script off the floor. Thomas takes a steadying breath. “Elliot has the first line, right?”

Joan nods, flipping a few pages before they find it. They cast a quick glance up at Thomas to double check that he’s ready before reading the line. “’Wait, there are two Danny’s?’”

“’Well’,” Thomas says in that thick Midwestern accent, “One is Dani with an ‘i’ and the other is Danny with a ‘y’, but we’ll just call ‘Dani with an i’ Danielle for clarity’s sake.’”

“’Okay…That’s not confusing at all…’” Joan reads with that familiar sarcasm from Elliot.

“Bear with me, Elliot,” Thomas says, holding his hands out. “Now, Danielle was created by Vlad because Danny wouldn’t disown his parents and become his son instead. In the eyes of Vlad, Danielle was just a poor imitation of what he really wanted.”

Joan pauses before they read the next line. “How did she react?” their voice is quiet, subdued. Thomas feels the corner of his mouth quirk in sympathy that is somehow a blend of acting and his own actual reaction.

“She didn’t let it stop her from being who she was,” Thomas replies gently as Picani. “When Danielle found out, she helped bring Vlad’s plan to a stop and then committed herself to doing as much good in the world as she could.” Thomas pauses, knowing they’d want to cut in with Elliot’s reaction briefly. “Just because Vlad created her to be one thing didn’t mean she couldn’t define who she was for herself.”

“I…” Joan falters on the line. “Cool? Nope. Fuck. Hold on.” They laugh as they look down at the script. “I forgot the line.”

Thomas laughs, the serious ambience of the moment breaking. This is what he remembers and what feels safe: making things he loves with his friends. Being creative, having fun with them, and laughing their way through the mistakes during filming. It’s a comforting routine.

“Wait, okay,” Joan says. “I got it. Turn Serious Picani back on, Thomas.”

Thomas laughs again. “Is this where I say ‘Going Serious’? Instead of ‘Going Ghost’?” He crinkles his nose after he says it. “Doesn’t really have the same ring.”

Joan shakes their head, smiling. “You could do something like the Box Ghost.”

“I am Picani! Beware!” Thomas laughs again. “Pretty sure therapists shouldn’t be yelling at their clients to ‘beware’.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” There’s still a twinkle of amusement in Joan’s eyes.

Thomas shakes his hands out and takes a deep breath in an effort to get back into character. “Okay, okay. What’s the line?”

Joan glances down at the script. “I just don’t really know where to start.”

“That’s okay,” Thomas says encouragingly. “Figuring out who we are independent of who other people think we should be is no easy task. Danny struggles with this too. Stuck between half-ghost and half-human, Danny always feels caught between worlds. And he finds it hard to be himself when neither side wants to fully accept him.”

“Well that sounds familiar,” Joan says dryly.

Thomas gives a sympathetic smile. “But the important thing, Elliot, is that both Danny and Danielle learn to accept who they are, complications and all, and they do what they can to help others.”

There’s a quiet, weighted moment after Thomas has finished speaking. The words echo in his head for a moment. Accept who they are, complications and all, and they do what they can to help others. The events of the morning flicker back through Thomas’s mind briefly. The two blend together in a combination that swirls uncomfortably in his stomach.

Joan cracks a small smile. “I feel good about those takes,” they say, pulling Thomas out of his thoughts. “What about you?”

“Yeah,” Thomas agrees, shaking his head quickly in an attempt to clear it. “Yeah, I feel good about it. I, uh, I think I’m gonna grab some water real quick.” He stands up suddenly, the chair pushing back into the bookcase behind him in the process.

Everything seems to slow down around him.

A voice in his head that sounds an awful lot like Virgil yells Thomas, behind you! He ducks out of the way instinctively as the bookcase wobbles.

Joan shouts his name as it starts to fall forward. If it falls, it’ll hit Joan.

He reacts on instinct. His hand darts out, catching the corner of the heavy bookcase as it pitches forward.

Joan has their arms thrown up to protect themself from the falling shelves. Books, stuffed animals, and other knick-knacks fall to the floor and Thomas uses his one arm to pull the bookcase back to the wall.

“You okay?” Thomas asks, looking to Joan with worry and adrenaline.

It’s not until he sees Joan’s wide, surprised eyes as they lower their arms that Thomas realizes what just happened.

He shouldn’t have been able to stop a bookcase full of things from falling on Joan with just one hand.

And he definitely shouldn’t have been able to pull it back with just one arm. Not one that had taken both Thomas and Joan to move into the office space to begin with.

Thomas thinks he can actually feel the color drain from his face. Joan is staring at him.

“I, um, y-yeah,” Joan stammers out. “Yeah, I’m fine.” They open their mouth, their brows pulled together and head cocked as if they’re about to ask a question. They close their mouth a second later.

“Good,” Thomas says tightly. “That’s good.” The bookcase hadn’t even felt like it weighed anything at all.

Joan nods slowly, uncertainty and doubt simmering in their dark eyes. “Did… did you just… I mean, have you been working out or something?”

“What?” Thomas asks absently. The question breaks through his racing thoughts in the next moment. “Oh. Yeah.” He knows he doesn’t sound convincing and it’s all he can do to avoid cringing.

The tie around his neck suddenly feels too tight. Thomas tugs slightly on the knot, unable to help the way his hands shake slightly. He doesn’t know if it’s the lingering adrenaline from the bookcase almost falling on him and Joan or if it’s something else.

“Are you okay, Thomas?” Joan asks. Their voice sounds far away.

Thomas swallows. His chest feels tight, and it sounds like more than one voice in his head is telling him to get out of there. Joan’s intelligent, careful gaze certainly isn’t helping. “I just… need some air, I think,” Thomas replies. He’s half-way out the door before the words are out of his mouth.

“Do you—”

“I’m fine,” he insists. He doesn’t meet Joan’s eyes. “I’ll be fine. I just need to stretch my legs.”

He’s out the door before Joan can say another word.

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #platonic lamp/calm #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfiction au #spider-man au #tw cursing #tw panic #not a panic attack exactly #tw doubting reality #tw nausea #with great power #with great power fic #danny phantom spoilers

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southerneldritch · 5 years

Text

It begins (Chapter 1)

The sun was not burning hot so much as painfully reminding him how important it was. High in the southern sky the heat pushed the humidity around enough to make the small shaded porch feel more like a sauna that a place for reprieve. However, now a good 3 feet down and still digging into the grave or one Mr. Lewis Rothburg, it left him wondering if the shade would prove more comfortable than it had once provided.

Stopping a moment to wipe his brow he looked around the long abandoned cemetery. Each stone edifice, once a proud reminder of capable men and women who in their lives had done great things...and horrible things, now standing derelict deep in the woods surrounded by an ever encroaching nature. A slight smirk crossed his lips, "The seem lucky." he thought to himself aloud. "They have no issue with what horrors are coming...they really needn't worry." He laughed as his shovel struck something hard and the sound of hollow wood thunked through the air. "Shit." He muttered.

There were two distinct things that immediately ran through his mind. Either the cemetery back in the day was notably unconcerned with health and safety, thusly the coffins were buried much shallower than they should be or, more worryingly, the man who sold the information about the location of Mr. Rothburg also warned that the graveyard had been used by criminals for hiding all sorts of things. Typically speaking the actions of the criminal world seldom would have bothered him but the fear that Mr. Rothburg was no longer where he was supposed to be greatly shifted the situation from simple to complicated.

With little to no options left for him he began to dig and free whatever thing he had just struck with his shovel. The sun glaring at the actions below as with some considered effort the lid of a coffin was uncovered. The sound of cicadas filling the air he took a deep breath and jammed a crowbar around the edge of the lid. With a groan and firmly planted feet the casket lurched open. "Well fuck." He let the words lose themselves in the summer heat as he looked down in disbelief.

The tires of the old truck did not grip well on what could best be called a trail, perhaps a path, either way he didn't care. With a foot down hard the engine putted and pushed all it had as the vehicle flew through the thick of the woods back towards a motel on the outskirts of town. Skidding onto the actual road the cargo stowed in the back of the truck slid and banged hard against the side causing the skid of the tires to feel far more dramatic than how sharp a turn he actually made. Despite the weight the very coffin sized and shaped container, it didn't break.

With a grinding of gears and feet hard down on the brake the vehicle came to a stop in most of one parking space outside the Quiet Glenn motel. He slammed the door not so much from panic as much as the sweat that had covered him had caused it to slip quickly from his grasp. The setting sun still fighting the cold of the darkness that was now trying to cool the area. He threw the motel door open and as abruptly as it had made such a calamitous entry the cheap door was resting back in its sill with him sliding the lock into place. His heart was racing but he wasn't tired, turning around and smudging cemetery dirt across his shirt he looked up at a surprised woman sitting at the small table near the back of the room. Normally her thick raven curls of hair would have been accenting each side of her face but instead were now tightly pinned up, slightly damp with a glob of something smeared across a part of the her hair. She chuckled while setting down a slice of pizza back into the box on the table. "So it went well?" The question was sincere but purposely teasing in tone.

"Well!?" He exclaimed walking towards the table. "No I think we can categorically label it as poorly." His voice laid out a frustration that was punctuated with his glare at the tv which was currently displaying some sort of reality show, before flopping over onto the bed. "How well do you know Virgil?" His words muffled by the pillow he spoke into.

“Most of my life.” She cocked her head to the side and grasped the pizza box before standing and asking, “Did he give us bad info?”

“No, if anything the info was very correct.”

“So what’s wrong?”

“Several things, most of all, how well do you trust Virgil?” He pulled his face from the bed and sat up on the end of the stiff excuse for bedding provided by the motel. “Also, what the hell is in your hair?”

“I didn't have anything else to do so I’m bleaching some bit of my hair. It looked fun. Anyways, I know him pretty well, he’s known me and my family for a long time.” Her eyes grew concerned as she looked down at him sitting on the edge of the bed. “What happened?”

Drawing in a long breath he looked up at her and the box of pizza and reached out to take a slice. “We’ll at the very least I suppose we can feel satisfied that Mr. Rothburg was where Virgil said he would be.” Pausing to take a bite of the room temperature slice while again finding reason to glare at the TV. “Sadly he also mentioned that such a place tends to attract the more unsavory of folk.”

A smile crossed her lips as she plopped down heavily beside him. “Aren’t we the unsavory types? Somewhat doom and gloom, all manors of suspicious actions, illegal activity and occult hoobie dooby?”

“Not that sort of unsavory, more of the ‘we kill to accomplish our goals’ sorts of unsavory.” He said with a grimace while now looking at the slice of room temperature pizza in his hand. “We have never sought to injure, Mel.” he added with an impressively serious tone.

Placing the box on the bed just behind them both Mel asked, “So are you going to explain what has you in a such a mood or do I have to keep playing 20 questions?”

“I wish it we simple but it feels like it's worse.” he muttered

“Let's start simple.” She hated it when he acted like this, always a man with a plan and if things shift up, big ol grump for a hot minute. “Was Rothburg there?”

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure it's him.”

“Good. So first problem?”

“The coffin was roughly three feet down.”

“Only three feet?”

“Yup, first issue.” He stated after taking a bite of the pizza. “Do we have beer?” he added.

“Sure do, but so what if he was buried in a shallow grave. It wasn't like the townsfolk were gonna respect him"

“True. However, there is more to this mood than just interesting burial habits.” He stood and walked over to the small whirring mini fridge and plucked a beer out. “I don't think this is the first time Mr. Rothburg has been dug up.”

“What, why would anyone other than us want to dig him up!?” She was beginning to understand his mood. “What possible reason would they dig him up and then put him back!?”

“Like I said.” he began walking towards the door gesturing for her to follow. “How well do you trust Virgil?”

She got up and followed, both stepped outside into the hot twilight. The sun still determined to broil the area before being slowly beaten back by the encroaching night sky. They walked over to the back of the truck and swung open the tailgate door. He hopped into the back and grabbed an edge of the coffin lid and looked up at her, “Come here I don't want anyone to see.”

She stepped in beside the door and looked down at the coffin lid his fingers were gripping. “Well enough build up, lets see it!”

With a sudden jerk and a loud crackling of metal hinges set in wood the lid lifted open. Light from the now buzzing parking lot fluorescents poorly lit what was laying in the coffin. First and foremost was the body of Mr. Lewis Rothburg, clearly it was his twisted form as the shin bones had been separated from his legs and placed under his chin. Though a considerable amount of decay had occurred it was also still plain to see that the jaw of Mr. Rothburg had been wired shut with crude metal studs and copper wire, ensuring even in death that he would no longer speak damnable words.

No, the condition of Mr. Rothburg was not the reason for shock or even a turned stomach full of pizza delivery, the reason that both of them looking into the coffin had slack jaws and bewilderment across their faces was because nestled around Rothburg’s remains were countless stacks of cash, gold, intricate medallions with arcane symbols and some weapons of peculiar design.

“What the hell is all of that!?” she exclaimed before realizing there were too few tenants in this particular southern motel outskirts of town to justify shouting without drawing attention. In a more collected tone while he began to shut the coffin. “Why is Rothburg swimming in cash?”

“I'm sorry, but did anything about my entry and line of questions sound like I have more ideas than you do now.” Hopping out the truck he closed and locked the doors, he suddenly felt very watched and disliked the notion. “Let’s get back inside and figure out our next move.” A cool breeze of night air brushed passed them both, typically a wonderful feeling now oddly ominous. They both went back inside the motel room before turning to locked the door behind them he added, “And wash your goddamn hair.”

#paranornal #supernatural #writing #mine #J #southern eldritch #eldritch #faceless postmaster #horror #terror #cosmic horror

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notamyope · 6 years

Text

Day 1 - 10/09 - 11/05

Lena has daydreamed about bumping into crushes many a times in her life thus far. Generally, they take place when she’s going out to do errands, where she likes to think about running into her crush while in the middle of her task.

A very “meet cute” scenario that she sees often times on screen or in books.

Maybe she’d struggle to reach for a book, and her crush notices and reaches it for her. Or perhaps she’d go out into the parking lot after a purchase, and her crush accidentally drops their supplies and she goes to help them. Maybe they’re in line together, and one of them notices that, hey, they’re right next to each other!

She’d keep her eyes peeled for any signs of her crush then, and get her hopes up for just a bit when she sees someone with the same colored hair or a similar outfit to what they would wear.

Only, it turns out to not be her crush and she continues on.

But then, she finishes whatever it was that she was doing, and is off to move on to her next errand for the day with just a slightly disappointed feeling of her daydream not being fulfilled.

Lately, that feeling of slight disappointment seems to have made its way to Kara.

And the amount of times she finds herself slightly disappointed whenever she goes out has made a major increase. She blames that feeling solely due to the high number of people who have long blonde waves for hair and wear business casual attire.

(Or maybe that’s just because, those are the only type of people who catch her eye, and make her hope that it’s Kara.)

Today, taking a stroll around the park and noticing the ice cream vendor, her mind takes her to seeing Kara in line, and then casually striding over to say hi. Then, Lena would offer to buy her ice cream and they would walk around the park or stop and sit over by a bench to chat.

The thought is absurdly unrealistic, she knows. But she can’t help but turn her head to look anyway, with the dimmest of hopes that maybe it could actually happen.

She is painfully and abruptly pulled back into reality via soccer ball right to her nose.

She bowls over, hands covering her throbbing nose as she groans pitifully in pain.

She blinks through her watery eyes, a blurry set of feet coming into view and someone picking up the ball, and her first instinct is to glare at the person.

Only…. It’s a child.

A child that she has successfully struck fear into.

“U-Uh...Um.” The child clutches onto the ball the size of her torso, nearly squeezing it into herself as her eyes fleet around with uncertainty. “I-I’m uh…. I’m sorry….” She near whispers, barely able to pronounce the “R” properly.

Lena can’t help but soften, and before she can say anything else, the one person who had been occupying her fleeting daydreams, arrives the one time she didn’t want her to.

“Lena! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” Kara asks, running up to her with ponytail wildly bouncing back and forth.

“Kara!” Lena exclaims, stunned in disbelief at the sight of her, though it comes out muffled through her hand.

Face full of concern, Kara comes to a stop as she nears, crouching over to get a better peek at Lena’s face. “Here, let me take a look.”

“It’s fine, I’m fine really.” Lena tries to assure, though winces when she lowers her hands.

Blue eyes flicker about, closely inspecting the area. “Well, you’ll definitely have a bruise.” Kara assents, straightening back up. “But nothing some ice can’t help.”

Lena playfully rolls her eyes, “Why, thank you Doctor Danvers.”

Kara flashes a toothy smile, before turning her attention back to the child. “Did you say sorry, Lyra?”

The little girl bobs her head, though shrinks back behind Kara’s legs for protection. “Yeah…”

Kara knits her brows in confusion, hand rubbing at Lyra’s back. “Hey, kiddo, what’s wrong?” She asks, bending her knees to level herself closer to her height.

Lyra whines, pulling the ball further into herself.

“Hm?” Kara tries to prompt again, lowering herself a bit more.

Lyra glances over to Lena, and back to Kara as she leans in close. “She’s scary.” She whispers, rather loudly.

“Oh, really now?” Kara asks, side eyeing Lena, who has the decency to look a little embarrassed. “What did the scary lady do to you? Besides being a Luthor.” Kara adds with a little wink.

The joke flies over Lyra’s head, though she does give Kara a weird look at first. “Her eyes are scary. When she looks at you, you freeze! Like- Like Medusa!” She exburently exclaims with more than a few mispronunciations.

And Lena can’t help but be taken aback by the comparison.

How does a kid know about Medusa anyway? Is that…. Is that a thing now?

Did she know when she was Lyra’s age?

Was that even appropriate?

Should she be taking offense or be pleased?

Kara doesn’t seem phased by the explanation, instead she simply nods in understanding. “Yeah, that’s true. Her eyes do seem like they can be a little scary.”

“Very scary.” Lyra corrects.

“Very scary.” Kara amends, “But Lena is a very good friend of mine, and she would never hurt you on purpose.”

Lyra looks dubious at this, warily glancing back over to Lena. “Really?”

Kara nods, “Really. Right, Lena?”

“Right.” Lena agrees, “I’m sorry if I scared you, sweetie. I didn’t mean to.”

“Oh.” Lyra considers this, looking down at her soccer ball as though it had all the answers of an eight ball, before looking back up. “That’s okay.” She smiles in such a way that is so reminiscent of Kara, and Lena can’t help but wonder if it’s possible for hearts to spontaneously combust from cuteness.

“Alright, why don’t you take that ball back to the other kids and play a bit longer?” Kara suggests.

“Okay,” Lyra nods, “But I’m gonna check on Caitlyn first.”

“Sounds like a solid plan. You go on ahead, and I’ll catch up with you soon.”

Lyra brightens up, turning tail and running back in the direction of where the group of gleefully squealing kids were at.

“Sorry about that again.” Kara says with a laugh, not taking her eyes off of Lyra until she was back with what Lena presumed was the group. “The game got a bit more heated, so the kids are getting… Y’know.”

“It’s fine, it’s my fault for not paying attention anyway.” Lena waves off.

“Something on your mind?” Kara asks.

Lena nervously laughs, “You could say that.” She says, though internally chastises herself.

How many times has she thought of a situation such as this, only to butcher it the moment the opportunity presents itself to her?

“Lyra is pretty cute.” She tries, attempting to redirect the topic of conversation.

Kara eyes her curiously, but takes the line with a soft smile. “She is. Wicked smart too! Loves books, I’m sure you can guess where her recent interests have been taking her.”

“Do they involve powerful, mythical women?” Lena asks.

“She absolutely loves them,” Kara laughs. “And she’s always asking me why the Greek boys are always being so silly.”

Lena can’t help but be absolutely endeared by that, “And what did you say?”

Kara pauses, shifting her demeanor to be more serious before nodding once, with all the wiseness of the world. “Cooties.”

Lena throws her head back in full laughter, her nose slightly aching from the action, but she refused to allow that to deter her. “Well, you’re certainly not wrong!”

“I feel bad though! Ever since then, she’s been telling the other boys at the orphanage that she doesn’t want to hang out with them, because of cooties.”

Lena’s mood dampers suddenly, as she looks out to the group of kids, “Orphanage?”

Kara rubs the back of her neck, “Er. Yeah.”

Lena gives a sympathetic smile, “I didn’t know you worked there too.”

“I don’t.” Kara corrects, “I just volunteer there.”

And… Lena can absolutely envision that. “Well, you seem great with kids. So I’m sure you’re a fantastic fit there.”

Kara laughs, “I hope so! Otherwise it’ll hurt my ego when I find out that the kids are just pretending to like me.”

Lena smiles at that.

And in the distance, she hears the cries of children calling for Kara to, “come play with us!”

Kara apologetically smiles, “I should probably get back to them.” She says, taking a step away.

“Oh.” Lena nods, trying not to feel disappointed. “Of course. I’ll see you around?”

“Hopefully soon.” Kara smiles.

Lena’s heart lifts in hope as Kara waves goodbye before jogging back to the kids.

She’s immediately tackled and grabbed onto by a small horde, and Lena sees Lyra simply taking hold of Kara’s hand as others hang around her other arm and legs.

And Lena’s imagination briefly fleets to the idea of a life where she and Kara have been together for years and years, and adopt many, many children together where they all tackle her when she arrives home.

She’s brought back to reality by the sounds of gleeful screams, and her eyes focus on the scene of Kara pretend wrestling with the group.

She watches for a bit longer, and decides that perhaps…. she could try to make her dream reality by pulling out her phone and hopefully making plans to meet with Kara for brunch sometime soon.

First things first however-

She types in a reminder to make a donation to every orphanage in the area.

#squinting myope #supercorp #Supercorp fic #I wanted to do Nanowrimo! but realized i'll be gone for most of november so I'll do it for oct!#Soooo I'll tag this as #Write 'til Vaca!

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