#in fact. have r kid do all announcements around the city for everything actually.

[partlyironic]

I NEED you all to hear this and to try and understand the energy when this unexpectedly piped up on my tram journey this morning.

#the way people were GRINNING #and then outwardly chuckling at the announcement for the etihad #I'd give anything for this to stay beyond the festival. #in fact. have r kid do all announcements around the city for everything actually. #liam gallagher #manchester #music #oasis

[potts89]

By @potts89 for @hold-our-destiny, written for the fourth @friendly-neighborhood-exchange.

Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts Summary:

“Honey,” Tony coaxed her, purposely not taking his eyes off the monitor in front of him. “What did I do?” “What do you mean what did you do?” “You’re giving me the look.” He could hear Pepper sighing but Tony simply assumed that she must have had a long, tiring day, that’s why. “Tony, when should I pencil you in to see Peter?” “See him for what?”

It started out as a run-of-the-mill, after school patrol... until Peter was reminded of a different alley, from a different time, but a very much familiar scenario.

Read it here (full fic under the cut) and on AO3.

“You’ve got the board meeting at four o’clock today, and Morgan’s ballet recital is at ten tomorrow morning and we’re supposed to meet Jim for lunch afterwards.”

Pepper went through Tony’s schedule as she waltzed into his workshop that afternoon, the measured clicking of her heels somewhat making him nostalgic for those days back when she was still his personal assistant and she would always harangue him about his meetings. He smiled distractedly at the thought that his wife and CEO, even after over a decade and a half, still refused to delegate his schedule to someone else. Not that he was complaining (because, really, he much preferred it this way), because Pepper, Tony knew, happened to be very hands-on after all. That and the fact that she probably knew that, except for Morgan, no one else could pry Tony away from whatever new project he was currently obsessing on. So it made sense that if Pepper wanted him to actually adhere to his schedule, she really should take the reins herself.

Tony threw a cursory glance at his monitor just to check the time, because Pepper was standing in front of him with her arms crossed in front of her chest, impatiently waiting for him to say or do something.

He noted that he still had about an hour to wash up, get dressed, and take the elevators to the conference room which was just twenty floors down, so unless he forgot their wedding anniversary (which, to his credit, had never happened), Pepper shouldn’t be giving him that ‘Drop whatever it is you’re doing right now,’ look.

“Honey,” Tony coaxed her, purposely not taking his eyes off the monitor in front of him. “What did I do?”

“What do you mean what did you do?”

“You’re giving me the look.”

He could hear Pepper sighing but Tony simply assumed that she must have had a long, tiring day, that’s why.

“Tony, when should I pencil you in to see Peter?”

“See him for what?”

Ever since he got the kid back, Tony had been consciously trying to keep some distance. Sure, not a day went by that he didn’t worry about Peter – the anxiety over something happening, again, that could take the kid away from him, again, never truly completely disappeared – but he didn’t want to suffocate the boy either. So as much as Tony wanted to be a helicopter doting (pseudo-) parent, he kept his distance. He no longer required daily patrol reports, he disabled the Baby Monitor Protocol (at Peter’s request and much to his disapproval, although they did reach a compromise that Karen would automatically ping FRIDAY should Peter be fatally injured (they had a long discussion on what Tony actually meant with fatal afterwards)), and he didn’t mess with Peter’s patrolling unless the kid specifically asked for his help and advice.

The adjustments were difficult, but Tony knew that he wouldn’t be around to hold the boy’s hand forever so he endured the changes. Plus, Peter seemed to appreciate this new sense of responsibility and independence, and Tony could only imagine that this was probably what it would feel like when the kid would finally leave for college at MIT.

God, he could feel the separation anxiety already.

“Michelle called…” Pepper trailed off and Tony would later on realize that he really should’ve noted the worry in his wife’s tone. “Something happened during his patrol.”

That surely caught Tony’s attention. He quickly glanced up at Pepper while the screwdriver he had been working with clattered to the floor.

“Is he—”

“He’s not hurt… physically.”

“Right, of course. FRIDAY would’ve alerted me if that’s the case.” He breathed a sigh of relief, but that relief was short-lived when he finally actually noticed the frown creasing Pepper’s features. “Wait, Michelle called? Where’s the kid?”

“He was on patrol. He tried to stop a mugging incident but by the time he got at the scene, a young boy’s father was already shot and—”

“He’s been blaming himself for it,” Tony finished for her and he knew just exactly what’s going on in Peter’s head right now.

Pepper reached for the rug that was lying on his worktable before walking up to him and giving it to him to wipe the grease off of his hands. “Michelle has been trying to convince him otherwise. Now I’m telling you this because Peter knows that Michelle’s the one person who will comfort him no matter what—”

“Which means he won’t believe it when she says it wasn’t his fault.”

Pepper nodded while Tony sighed tiredly, hating the fact that Peter seemed to have picked up on his own tendency for self-reproach. He handed the rug back to Pepper who seemed pleased that her husband appeared to be finally on the same page as she.

“Pep, honey, how important is today’s board meeting?” he asked, even if he knew that Pepper wouldn’t keep him anyway.

“Well, R&D is presenting that tech that you wanted the patent on.”

“Tell them I’ll have to reschedule.”

She smiled at him, a knowing smile that he had gotten so familiar with and so thankful for over the years. “I already did.”

He really did marry the perfect woman, didn’t he?

“You’re the best,” he told her, wrapping his arms around her and it did amuse him to note that she didn’t make a comment on how the grease would most likely get on her own clothes. He kissed her, deeply though hurriedly. “I love you.”

“Go and be a good dad. I love you, too.”

---- --- ----

“I thought we already agreed that you’d disable the tracker in my suit,” Peter muttered without glancing, long before Tony could even announce his arrival thanks to that thing he really didn’t like to call ‘Peter tingle.’

He had been sitting there alone all afternoon, deep in a quiet, one-way conversation with the headstone in front on him which bore the name of the uncle that pretty much raised him as his own. The same uncle who, up to this day, Peter still felt guilty and responsible for.

To say that Peter was having a terrible day was definitely an understatement. It started out like any normal afternoon – he nailed that physics test, he listened (enraptured) while MJ discussed the women’s suffrage in great detail over lunch, and he swung by Stark Tower to drop a new toy for Morgan sometime after class – there was nothing out of the ordinary, at least until a few minutes into his patrol.

He was swinging by some of his usual hunts in the city when his hyper-keen senses caught the scream of a young boy just a few blocks away. Peter rushed to the scene without second thought, but what he initially anticipated as a run-of-the-mill mugging incident in one of New York’s quiet alleys turned out to strike too close to home.

Peter just stood there, unmoving, rooted to the spot as the bandit fled the scene of the crime leaving behind a young boy quite possibly no older than nine, a man in his mid-forties lying on the pavement and possibly bleeding to death, and Peter who seemed to have been transported back to a different alley, from a different time, but in a very much familiar scenario.

Peter felt numb, so much so that for a while there, he completely believed that he was watching a younger version of himself, helplessly crouching over the bleeding man, while the police and ambulance sirens sounded nearer and nearer and nearer…

“What happened here?” one of the EMTs shouted but Peter was too stunned and completely trapped in his own head that he was practically the most useless person on the site. “Spider-Man?” the EMT prodded but Peter was too out of it (or maybe, too into it) that he barely registered the question at all.

Everything was a blur afterwards. He barely recalled the EMTs loading the victim and the young boy into the ambulance, he was quite unaware of the many people looking his way wondering why Spider-Man was standing there, motionless in an alley. He barely recalled clutching his phone to his ear and hearing MJ’s confused and worried voice as he muttered “It’s my fault,” over and over and over again.

He couldn’t even exactly remember how he managed to end up in this place, or how long he had been sitting there on the ground apologizing to the indifferent headstone that offered him neither forgiveness nor reassurance.

For hours (he wasn’t really sure if it had been hours, but it certainly felt that way to him), he kept having those dreaded flashbacks in his head… The image of the boy crouching over his father’s body merging and morphing into looking more like Peter, while he himself applied pressure on the man’s wounds with his bare hands, the same man who was beginning to look more and more like his—

“I did disable your suit’s tracker, but I didn’t exactly need one to know where to find you.” Tony’s voice was grounding, pulling him back to the present… to what was real, to what was happening.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Peter asked, not really knowing what was the point in asking. Still, he avoided Tony’s gaze, choosing to focus his eyes instead on the headstone in front of him even as the older man took a seat beside him. “You didn’t need to come and pick me up, I was heading back anyway—”

“Of course I know you’d be here, you give me so little credit, kid.” Peter felt that gentle, reassuring pat on his shoulder and the gesture alone was enough to break what little composure he had left. “And I also know that I didn’t need to come, but I wanted to.”

He didn’t really know what to say to that, not out of shyness nor awkwardness because he and Tony were definitely past that point by now, but more because he was once again reminded that Tony actually cared… that the man was in his corner and would always be, come hell or high water.

Even after all these years, Peter still couldn’t wrap his head around that idea, that he actually had someone, that he wasn’t truly completely alone.

“Alright, why don’t you say what’s on your mind?”

“Who says there’s anything on my mind?” Peter deflected, easily picking up on Tony’s usual modus operandi when confronted with something that he wasn’t really keen about discussing. Peter learned from the master, after all.

“There’s always something on your mind,” Tony’s tone was patient with a hint of chiding, and Peter wanted to stop himself from thinking that the tone was almost paternal. “The only time it doesn’t pop right out of your mouth is when you’re not sure you should say it… that and when you were still trying to tell MJ that you actually like her. So?”

“I’m fine,” Peter mumbled, but he knew it would be pretty naïve of him if he were to believe that Tony would actually let him get away with not talking about it. Still, he could try, right?

He almost did believe that Tony had decided to drop the issue because the palpable silence stretched between them, with Peter not really wanting to relive the afternoon and with Tony probably waiting for that conversation opening that Peter would be absolutely unwilling to give to him. Still, Tony, Peter knew, was nothing if not persistent.

“Pete, you can’t save everybody.”

It was said so simply, so fatherly even, that Peter could really do very little to stop the dam from finally breaking. He knew that Tony knew that he never really felt comfortable talking about his uncle, and Peter was actually thankful that Tony had opted not to pursue the topic directly at least.

Still the thought didn’t do much to alleviate Peter’s guilt from what happened that afternoon. He kept thinking that if he had only been a bit faster, a little braver, a bit tougher… if he hadn’t let the ghost of his past failure haunt him at such a very crucial moment…

Peter cringed at the possibility that another kid could be orphaned by now all because he got scared and stunned, exactly like the boy he once was the last time he actually saw his uncle breathing and living…

“Kid, it’s not your fault. We try and we try but we can’t save them all.”

“But you did, and granted that it cost you a lot,” Peter paused, his red-rimmed eyes quickly darting towards Tony’s prosthetic arm, making him feel so small and unsure and inept. “But you did… you did save us all.”

“I didn’t, kid.”

“No, you actually did—”

“I didn’t, kid, at least not during the first time. Else, I would not have spent a lot of nights imagining, dreaming that I saved you in Titan. Because every night before I go to sleep, in the last five years I keep thinking about the things I could have done differently… Kid, every night I save you, in my head and in my dreams. But when it mattered the most, when it actually counted, I failed. I didn't save you.”

“No, Mr. Stark... Because when it mattered the most, you brought me back.”

Peter didn’t really know what else to say other than that, but he hoped that it was enough for now. He was, after all, very much aware that no matter how immensely grateful he truly was, his thanks wouldn’t even begin to give justice to what Tony had to do, had to gamble with, just to get him (and the others) back.

To tell the truth, he would have dwelled on the thought, on the more appropriate thing to say, but his mind was basically elsewhere at the moment and he blurted out his worries before he could even stop himself.

“I just… I froze earlier because I know what it’s like to be orphaned young, and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Touché.”

“I’m sorry— I didn’t mean…”

He glanced at Tony but there was nothing but understanding in his old man’s eyes, the memory of his own loss clearly still as saddening but time had clearly played a factor in healing past wounds.

“I know what you mean, kid, more than anyone, really. I was twenty one then, technically already an adult, but I was very far from being one.”

“It’s just, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy… And to think that I could’ve done something earlier today had I been faster, stronger, braver…” Peter trailed off, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat as he thought back to his own parents and his uncle. “I know what it’s like to be alone, to be on your own… It was difficult, it still is.”

“I’m sorry, kid.”

Peter furrowed his brows at the way that Tony’s voice broke. “Sorry for what?”

“I try so hard… so hard to make you feel that you have someone, that you’re no longer alone, that you’re not an orphan, at least not anymore. And I really thought that giving you some independence was what you wanted, but I guess I wasn’t doing enough if you still feel that—”

“But you are,” he cut in, only realizing in that moment that he had inadvertently made Tony  feel inadequate, when the truth was Peter actually felt so indebted to him. Peter knew that he owed him his life, so much so that he actually felt shy being around the man, especially whenever he would see Tony’s prosthetic arm because if not for him…

“You’re doing more than enough,” Peter assured him, wanting to tell him that he actually filled that paternal void just exactly when Peter needed him the most. “Mr. Stark, you’re like the—”

Peter caught himself, stopping before he could even say anything more… because doing so would be impolite, would be imposing, would be asking for too much.

“I’m like what?”

You’re like the father I wish I had.

Peter bit his lip as he tried to grapple not necessarily with the right words but with more appropriate ones, less assuming ones, because he was still so uncertain about his place in Tony’s family. Never mind the fact that Pepper would regularly set a place for him on the dinner table and Morgan would ask him to read her bedtime stories and Tony kept calling him kid but…

He didn’t feel worthy.

Because if he couldn’t protect them in the end just like the way that he failed with his own uncle, he would never be worthy. If he couldn’t keep that kid’s father from earlier that afternoon safe, how would he be able to keep this family safe?

You’re like the father I wish I had.

“You’re my mentor, Mr. Stark,” was what Peter settled for in the end. “And I’m very lucky because you’re doing more than enough for me.”

“Well, that’s disappointing,” Tony smirked at him when Peter threw a sidelong glance in his direction, the obvious chagrin in his voice making Peter curious about his remark. “Because I thought you were going to say that I’m like a father to you, but mentor’s fine, I guess. I’ll take it.”

Peter gazed at him, his brown eyes so full of wonder while Tony simply grinned in that patented smile he usually reserved for the adoring public.

“So let me get this straight. You see me as a son-figure?” Peter asked, forgetting all about his earlier reservations.

“Well, Morgan did tell her teachers that she has an older brother so—”

“That’s Morgan. How about you, though?”

“—and Pepper’s still about twelve percent convinced that you really are my secret lovechild from back in my playboy days—”

“Would it kill you so much to say it out loud?”

Tony laughed and Peter honestly thought that it would probably be better if the ground simply swallowed him up at that point. This was just so embarrassing but he figured that his need for affirmation outweighed his sense of shame, at least in that moment.

“You’re my kid, okay?” Tony reached out to put an arm around his shoulder and somehow, Peter felt lighter, safer, in spite of the day’s events. “Mine and Pepper’s, Morgan’s brother. You’re family, Pete. You always have been. Why do you think you have a room at the Tower and at the lake house?”

“I just thought they’re guest rooms,” he mumbled quietly, eyes downcast because he could feel the tears now streaming down his face.

“Those rooms have photos of you with Morgan, and Star Wars memorabilia, and clothes and shoes in your size. Guest rooms can’t be that specific.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“And it’s not your fault. What happened today and what happened with your uncle, it was never your fault, Pete. You’re just a kid.”

Peter couldn’t help but wipe his eyes with the back of his hand while Tony pulled him into a tighter side-hug. He wished he could tell Tony thank you, but he was quite sure that words would betray him at this point. He honestly didn’t know what happened back there at the alley – he had, after all, been to space and fought his fair share of nemeses – but the familiarity of the situation caught him off-guard, hitting too close to home and trapping him in his own mind and with his own memories.

Peter realized that maybe it was because he had not really forgiven himself… for what happened with his own uncle and for Tony having to make a sacrifice. But if Tony never really blamed him, then…

“Pepper asked me to tell you that the boy’s father is now out of the woods and that he will make a full recovery,” Tony told him after some time, reading the message Pepper must have sent him on his phone. “And that she’s expecting you at dinner tonight, at the tower.”

Peter furrowed his brows, frowning in confusion as he did so. “How did she know about…”

“Who do you think Michelle called?”

“Of course.”

“So let’s go? Home?” Tony stood up, tossing him the keys to the Audi. “You drive. Slowly. I’m gonna guide you, but drive slowly.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile. He didn’t feel alone anymore. After all, he never really was, and he never really would be.

He grinned just as he started the engine, the way that Tony gripped the edge of his seat was not lost on Peter at all.

“You know, Mr. Stark, I think as long as I drive slower than you do, we’ll be fine.”

“Pete, driving slower than me doesn’t automatically mean that you’re driving within the speed limit.”

“I merely said—”

“Just drive. Slowly.” Tony cut in, sighing as he closed his eyes beneath the tinted glasses he was sporting. “Before I change my mind.”

Peter smiled, stepping on the gas and speeding off, within limits, of course.

***

#The Friendly Neighborhood Exchange #peter parker #pepper potts #tony stark #irondad #spider son #Peter Parker is having a bad day

[noona-clock]

The Demon 👿 Zombie

Genre: Office!AU

Pairing: Jae x You

Warnings: Some Emotional Angst

Words: 2,342

Day and Night  👿 Zombie  👿 Tick Tock  👿 Love me or Leave me  👿 STOP   👿 1 to 10  👿 Afraid

Breathin’ but I’ve been dyin’ inside Nothin’ new and nothin’ feels right Deja vu so I close my eyes Let the demon sing me a lullaby

Today’s a present that I don’t want So I’m wonderin’ in this world Am I really the only one Who’s been wantin’ to hide out from the sun And run

You immediately let out a whining groan when you heard your morning alarm pierce through the air.

You knew you should be thankful you had a steady, well-paying job. You should be grateful you could keep a roof over your head and food on your table.

But, good grief, you just didn’t like it. You didn’t hate it, but you sure didn’t love it. It was a fine job. Mediocre, at best. You just had trouble mustering up any positive energy whatsoever when it came to getting up and going to work.

Once you actually got to work... Well, to be honest, it wasn’t much better. You trudged through each workday because you had to, not because you wanted to. You simply went through the motions every day, like a robot on autopilot.

You know that song that’s like “Everybody’s workin’ for the weekend’?

You were convinced that song was written about you. Friday evening was your absolute favorite thing in the entire world.

And Sunday evening was your absolute least favorite thing in the entire world.

Up until just recently, you’d been able to make it through each day, each week. It wasn’t pleasant, but you did it.

For the past few weeks, though, you’d felt the dark unhappiness creeping into your brain. It was getting more and more difficult to force yourself to get out of bed and head into the office. So much so that you were on the verge of taking some time off. It sounded more than heavenly to just be able to stay in bed and laze around all day -- hole yourself up and do anything but go to work.

When we live a life Always dreamin’ for a dream to come true So I live this life Wanting somethin’ I can’t see And something I can’t reach Or somethin’ that could not exist

To be honest, one of the only things keeping you going right now was your co-worker, Jae.

The two of you had started this job at just about the same time, so the newbie status instantly pulled you together. The fact Jae could successfully distract you with both memes and profound thoughts at the same time was what kept you together.

Whenever you needed to rant about another co-worker or a client, Jae was there. Whenever you needed to get out of the office for lunch and satisfy your craving for fast food, Jae was there. Whenever you needed to relieve boredom or waste time -- you guessed it. Jae was there.

He was basically one of the only reasons you continued working this job, and you liked to think he felt the same way about you.

After reaching over to pick up your phone and turning your alarm off, your whining groan turned into a weary sigh. Normally -- as in, before your jaded attitude about your job had set in -- you would turn off your alarm and almost immediately get out of bed. Now, however -- and especially more recently -- you found you had to scroll through your overnight notifications on your phone before you could even think about getting up.

And that’s exactly what you did today.

Your eyes scanned all of the alerts you’d received, stopping when you noticed one of them was a text message from Jae. Unsurprisingly, he’d sent it way after you’d gone to sleep, knowing you wouldn’t see it until you’d woken up this morning.

Just two more alarms for the week, dude. You got this.

You really weren’t sure why because it was literally just a text message, but... reading Jae’s words actually helped you get out of bed. Maybe it was the fact you knew someone at work was on your side, or maybe it was the fact someone else understood how difficult it could be... or maybe it was a reason you truly couldn’t understand.

Either way, you quickly typed out a reply (‘WE got this, bro!! See you soon!’) and then swung your legs over the side your bed.

I feel like I became a zombie Not alive but I’m still walkin’ When the sunrise is upon me I’ll be waitin’ for the day to pass by Oh why

I became a zombie And there’s nothing that can cure me So tomorrow I know I’ll be Just the same, you’ll see me Wishin’ to stop and close my eyes

Unfortunately, Jae’s text message only gave you enough positive energy to get through your morning routine. As soon as you stepped outside and headed toward the bus stop, you turned into the robot on autopilot again, simply going through the motions of getting to work.

You got on the bus, swiped your pass, sat down, stared out the window as it began to roll deeper into the city.

It was times like these when you found yourself zoning out entirely, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time.

Your gaze became focused on the sunrise peeking through in-between the buildings, and your mind became unfocused on just about everything. And it was usually during your morning bus ride when you felt the most like a zombie -- half-alive. Or, rather, physically alive but emotionally... not alive. Probably because you knew the day was just beginning, and you had so many hours ahead of you to get through.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head and pressing your temple to the cool glass of the window.

Just before you were going to let out a deep but silent sigh, you felt your phone vibrate inside your bag.

With a small jump, you opened your eyes, sat back up, and reached in to see what the notification was.

A small smile crept onto your lips when you saw Jae had texted you again.

B R O. I need COFFEE. Want anything?

Soy hazelnut latte maybe?

What about food? You can treat me to lunch later as a thank you.

LOL okay deal. Everything bagel plz!!!! You’re the best!!!!

You would say one thing: it was definitely easier to get through the morning with some caffeine and some food. Hopefully, you would feel more like a person after you got some breakfast in you.

Yeah this is my life Always dreamin’ for a dream to come true This meaningless life Wanting somethin’ I can’t see And something I can’t reach Or somethin’ that could not exist

No more of this I wanna cry Dried out but feel like I should cry Tell the world that I’m still here tonight Oh oh

Besides the very end of your shift, lunchtime was your favorite part of the day. You especially enjoyed it when you got to eat with Jae, and even moreso when you ate out at a restaurant -- I mean, if you classify McDonald’s as a restaurant. Which you totally did.

Since Jae had so graciously provided breakfast for you this morning, you followed up with your promise to treat him to lunch. He had announced that he was craving a McChicken sandwich, so here you were sitting in a booth at the McDonald’s across the street from the building.

And, apparently, you were sitting in the booth more listlessly than you realized because as you were swirling some fries around in your ketchup, Jae kicked you gently under the table.

“Yo, what’s up?” he asked. “You okay?”

You blinked rapidly, shifting your gaze to look at Jae across from you. “Hmm?” you hummed. “Oh, I -- have you ever felt like your life is basically meaningless?”

...Had you meant for such a profound question to come out of your mouth?

No.

But there was no taking it back now.

Jae practically choked on his McChicken, his eyes widening and his brow furrowing deeply. “Say what now?”

You shifted awkwardly in your seat before replying, “Never mind.”

“No, no, no -- meaningless? Is that how you feel? Like your life is meaningless?”

“...Kind of?”

Jae’s forehead wrinkled even more, and he leaned forward closer to you. “Dude, that’s not true at all,” he said quietly and with the most sincere tone. So sincere it almost made your heart break. “Why -- I mean, why do you...?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just feel like... every day is a chore to get through. I’m just waking up and going to work and going home. I don’t feel like I’m actually... doing anything. And like there’s no end in sight.”

Jae let out a soft sigh and set down his sandwich before folding his arms on top of the table. “I mean... I knew you didn’t like this job, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

To be honest, neither had you. Not until just now. You’d known you weren’t particularly happy, but you hadn’t truly understood just how unhappy you were.

“...Yeah, I guess it is,” you murmured.

“So... find a new job.”

You automatically let out a breathless chuckle and shook your head. “Like it’s that easy.”

“Listen,” Jae began. “I don’t want you to find another job. For my own selfish reasons, I don’t want you to leave because you’re definitely my favorite part of work. But... dude, if you’re that unhappy, you have to leave.”

You didn’t answer him right away; you simply bit the inside of your cheek and gazed at your food.

“I have friends with all kinds of jobs,” he continued. “I could ask around and see if they can help. You’re smart as hell, I know there are plenty of jobs out there you would be so good at.”

His words -- and his earnest tone -- made your throat tighten with emotion and your eyes fill slightly with tears. “Really?” you choked out. “You would help me like that?”

When you finally looked up at him, you anticipated his expression to be one of ‘You’re kidding me, right? Of course, I would help you like that.’

Instead, his expression said something more like... Well, you weren’t sure what. The best way you could describe it was... shy.

“Well... yeah,” he mumbled. “I... I just want you to be happy.”

I feel like I became a zombie Not alive but I’m still walkin’ When the sunrise is upon me I’ll be waitin’ for the day to pass by Oh why

I became a zombie And there’s nothing that can cure me So tomorrow I know I’ll be Just the same you’ll see me Wishin’ to stop and close my eyes

Unfortunately, no matter how badly you wished for more time, your lunch break was only an hour long.

Jae had double-checked that you were all right before the two of you went back into your office building, and he even sent you messages here and there throughout the day -- including one informing you that he had texted all of his close friends about job openings, and he already had some good leads for you.

At this point, though, you didn’t really want to get your hopes up.

Jae typically didn’t leave at the same time as you because he preferred to finish everything he’d started that day; you were the type to leave right when the clock struck 5 and not a minute later, so unless Jae finished early for the day, the two of you never walked out of the office together.

But Jae must have finished early for the day because the two of you walked out of the office together.

As soon as you stepped out of the building, Jae nudged you gently with his elbow. “So, are you gonna quit?” he asked quietly.

“Well, not right now,” you replied. “I still need to pay my bills.”

“Yeah, but -- if one of my friends can get you an interview, will you go to it?”

“I -- I mean, I guess so!”

To be honest, you wanted to leave this job, but... change was really scary. Starting all over at a new place, getting to know new people, getting used to a new schedule? It didn’t sound inviting.

But, then again, neither did keeping on with your current situation.

“I promise,” Jae said with raised eyebrows. “I will help you get out of here.”

You had to stop walking at that.

Your brow furrowed as Jae suddenly stopped, too, turning to face you.

“...What?” he asked.

“Why are you so determined to help me find a new job?” you asked, though there was absolutely nothing accusatory about your words. You were just... curious. I mean, it’s not like you and Jae were extremely close. You were best work friends, for sure, but you hadn’t hung out a whole lot outside of work.

Again, Jae’s expression turned shy the same way it had during your lunch conversation.

“I just...” he began, but then he let out a sigh and brought one hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. 

...And then it dawned on you.

Out of the blue.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks that you had only stayed here because of Jae.

He wasn’t just one of the reasons you could manage to keep going. One of the only things you liked about your job.

He was the only reason. The only thing.

You were so hesitant to get another job because you knew you wouldn’t get to see him everyday, and seeing him everyday was the one thing in your life that actually made you genuinely happy.

Before he could continue on with his thought, you stepped up to him. You slid your arms around his middle and circled your arms as tightly as you could and pressed your cheek to his chest.

“Whoa,” he muttered, but he didn’t leave enough time for you to start second-guessing yourself because he almost immediately returned your embrace.

“I don’t --” he mumbled. “I don’t want you to leave because not seeing you everyday would... suck. But I don’t think I can keep seeing you everyday knowing that you hate it.”

You simply shut your eyes tightly, nuzzling your cheek against the silk fabric of his tie.

“I can’t see you everyday knowing that you’re -- you’re a working zombie or something. So... please. Please say you’ll leave.”

“I will,” you murmured. Because even though Jae made you happy... it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t continue to rely on him to get you through the day; it wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

“But...” Jae added, his voice quieter and a bit more shaky. “Please say... you won’t leave me.”

Your lips curved into a wide grin at his words. He was hugging you back, yes, but you still hadn’t been certain that he felt the same way as you did right now.

But now you knew.

“I won’t,” you assured him, squeezing him even tighter.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of... Well, you weren’t quite sure. Hope? Happiness? Love? Or maybe just... different?

After living your life in the same way day after day, week after week, month after month... something different had happened.

So, I guess the best way to put it was for the first time in a long time, you felt that tomorrow could actually be different.

And that was all you needed.

#kwritersworldnet #jae scenarios #jae imagines #jae au #jae angst #jae fanfic #day6 scenarios #day6 imagines #day6 au #day6 angst #day6 fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop angst #kpop fanfic #day6 #day6 jae #park jaehyung #kpop #book of us: the demon

[kenzichi]

Summary: Riku gets an unexpected visit from Roxas. Post KH3.

Note: Totally self indulgent. Don’t mind it too much lol.

Riku pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes were burning from lack of sleep. His appearance probably didn’t look like much either. He needed to get off the database. He took one more look at the Sora in the computer screen before he stood up and hastily removed his jacket. He threw it onto the stool and walked outside Merlin’s house.

But once he did he had no idea what he wanted to do. His eyes stung at the morning- morning? -Midday sun. There was no one walking along the streets which was usual for this time of day. Maybe Leon and the others were visiting Kairi? He needed to do that soon.

"Hey." Came an unexpected greeting followed by footsteps. He turned to see Roxas walking towards him. Wait-

"R-Roxas!" It had been months since Riku had last seen him. Since the final battle over half a year ago in fact. "What are you doing here?" Roxas had never been to Radiant Garden as far as he knew. And he had no connection with anyone here so for him to be here...

"I came to check up on you." Roxas smiled, hands in his pockets.

"Me?" Riku was taken aback. Roxas certainly didn't seem like he was the type to pay friendly visits and they weren’t friends even if they didn't hold a grudge against each other.

"Yup." Roxas replied with a smile that worried Riku for some reason. "Let's fight!"

"What?"

"You heard me." Roxas stepped closer until he was a few feet away from him.

"Why would I-?"

"You owe me a fair, finished fight. Last time you turned into that man. A cheap trick to win." Roxas glared up at him.

Riku subconsciously gripped his wrist that Roxas had injured in that very fight. Riku had thought this was all in the past. But looking at Roxas it seemed he still wasn't quite over it.

"I want to fight you for real this time." Roxas summoned his Kingdom Key without breaking eye contact. "Real ‘till the end!" He announced. Riku had no time to protest before he had to summon his own keyblade to block Roxas swinging down from straight above. The impact sent Riku sliding backwards on the stone pavement.

"Roxas!" Riku yelled angrily. What the hell? That hit would have been really bad! Is he being serious?

The impact of the hit sent a stinging aftershock through Riku’s legs straight to his ankles. He winced and fell onto one knee.

I... I know I haven't been training much, but...

Roxas scoffed, "Are you serious? Have you just been fooling around since Sora disappeared?"

"Of course not!"

"Prove it then." Roxas replied sourly. He broke into a run. "Come at me!"

Just as Roxas had reached him, Riku sprinted under Roxas’ swing as if to run, but as soon as he was right behind him he halted suddenly, spun around and swung his keyblade towards his opponent. But Roxas turned around just as fast and blocked his attack.

Roxas smiled, "Ahh, there's the Riku I remember! Give me a good fight, alright!" They pushed each other back with their blades and put some distance between themselves.

"I don't have time for this." Riku practically hissed. Not while Sora is still out there. We’re wasting time!

"You have time." Roxas retorted. "By the looks of you, this will be over real quick."

Riku narrowed his eyes, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Roxas leaped towards Riku to close the gap between them. With both hands he swung towards Riku’s left side, but Riku blocked. Roxas swung again in the same spot, harder this time. "Exactly how it sounds!" Roxas lunged forward and slammed his shoulder into Riku’s chest, knocking him backwards. Riku stumbled wide eyed.

"What happened to the strongest kid on the islands? Keyblade Master Riku?" Before Riku could regain his balance, Roxas started an excessive chain of swings that Riku couldn’t help, but block helplessly against.

Riku felt cornered. Roxas wasn't giving him any chance to counter. All he could do was make sure Roxas didn’t run him into a dead end.

Roxas’ blows started to slow down just slightly, but enough for a seasoned fighter like Riku to notice. He’s getting tired... "Brings you back to the islands, huh? Just like old times, right?" Roxas said in between breaths.

Huh? Why would he bring up the islands?

Just as Riku thought that, Roxas took a big gasp before going in for another swing. Now! Riku quickly cast a single thunder bolt to strike between them.

Roxas jumped backwards before the attack could hit. Riku let out a heavy breath, relieved they were no longer so close.

Roxas chuckled at the exchange they just had. What’s with him? Was he making fun of him?

Riku clinched his teeth. That magic attack seemed like nothing, but it was more to get him off his back than to cause injury. And he felt like Roxas knew that too. That’s why he had that irritating smirk on his face.

Roxas lifted his keyblade into the air and cast firaga. A plethora of fireballs came flying towards them.

Riku gasped. He couldn't dodge. They were surrounded by buildings. Not to mention Merlin’s house with their only clue to finding Sora in a long time. Quickly, Riku ran in front of Merlin’s house and managed to produce a larger dark barrier than usual and deflected as many fireballs as he could back at Roxas. Without missing a beat, Riku released dark barrier and cast waterza on the fires that were quickly building up around them.

Riku let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Through the smoke he saw Roxas standing on the other side of the walk area, waiting patiently for him.

Riku steadied his breath before clinching his fists. "Are you an idiot?! People live here! Don't throw reckless magic around!"

"This is a real fight remember?" Roxas replied. "If you don't like it, stop me."

Riku had had it. He charged at Roxas so fast he was only a flash of dark energy. Roxas had no idea he had this ability. He certainly didn’t have it in The World That Never Was. Before he could react, Riku appeared before him, grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him to the ground. He knelt down on Roxas’ weapon-wielding hand, causing his grip to loosen and his keyblade to disappear. Riku slammed the end of his Braveheart into the ground next to Roxas’ head. "That's enough. Playtime is over."

“But we were just getting warmed up!" Roxas chuckled.

"Stop screwing around!" Riku yelled, clinching the boy's shirt tighter. He was straddling him and with his arm pinned down Roxas couldn’t move.

"Would you treat Sora like this too?" Riku paused. "On the islands," Roxas continued. "is this how you were when you fought with Sora?" There was no underlying playfulness to his words this time.

Why is he bringing up Sora? And the islands? No. This was nothing like that. Even when Riku was mad he still enjoyed his sword fights with Sora. Even when he was clouded by jealousy; he just wanted to be close to him. But right now Roxas was just pissing him off. "Why do you keep bringing weird things up?" Riku demanded.

With his free hand, Roxas gripped the fists that were holding him by the collar. "Kiss me."

Riku froze.

"You miss Sora don't you? It’s obvious to everyone. And sad, really. Even I’m starting to pity you."

"What are you saying?" What does he mean ‘everyone’? "You don't know anything." I'm fine. I'm the same as usual. Did someone put him up to this?

"So much so that you shut yourself away from everyone for 2 months."

But... I haven’t. Right? I’ve done plenty these past few months... Riku quickly thought back to his current day to day life. He would wake up, check the database, eat (maybe), run scans on the database, check on Kairi at the castle, train for an hour... maybe less, go back to check the database...

"We know about the computer in there. You unlocked everything you could on that thing and there are still no answers. So why are you still always on it?"

Riku looked away. "There could still be a clue." He answered quietly. He did truly believe that, but he also couldn’t deny just seeing Sora’s image on the screen comforted him. "Anyway, it doesn’t concern you. You do things your way on your end and I’ll do the same-"

Roxas sat up on his elbow, "It does concern me! Sora wouldn't want you to spend your days staring at a computer!"

"I'm fine. I don't need your twisted help." Riku let go of Roxas' collar and started to stand, but Roxas kept his grip on Riku’s wrists, keeping him close.

"But I look like him don't I? Remind you of him?" He pulled Riku so close their bodies were touching. Riku could feel Roxas’ body heat through their sweaty clothes. He felt a knot form in his throat. "I don't think Sora would mind. Not if it was to help you."

"Stop." Riku lowered his head. Despite them being so different, Roxas was still Sora’s nobody and they almost looked exactly the same. Their builds were strikingly similar. Not to mention their eyes. Riku squeezed his eyes shut, ashamed they were even having this conversation. Ashamed he was actually feeling something. Did everyone feel this much pity towards him? Was he really that miserable looking?

Roxas grabbed Riku’s shirt, and pulled him closer. "Look at me." He said as softly as he could. Eventually, Riku did. He saw Riku’s eyes for the first time that day. Tired and sad. Eyes that hadn’t had a good night��s sleep in weeks. "I know you want to. So kiss me."

Of course he wanted to! Or rather, of course he wanted to, with Sora! To touch him and kiss him. Somehow, now that he knew his true feelings for Sora, it only made it harder for Riku to be away from him.

"Kiss me like you would Sora." Roxas ran a hand through Riku’s hair, "Touch me like you would Sora." He wrapped his arms around Riku’s neck, "He wouldn’t want you to suffer like this anymore."

He wouldn’t, huh?

Every night he’d dream of a city with towering buildings. Shining signs and bustling roads. And every day he’d imagine Sora next to him, talking to him, like a curse.

Every day, since having those dreams of the city, Sora would lean into him when they talked. Lay a gentle hand on his shoulder whenever he laughed. He’d smile up at him and say his name. He’d pout when he lost at a game of Rock Paper Scissors to decide who got to take a bath first. But then Riku would be forgiven when he let Sora have the last piece of meat for dinner.

When Riku was settling in for the night it was only a matter of minutes before Sora came to his room. Sora would lay down onto his bed before he even had the chance to. Riku would caress Sora’s spiky brown hair he loved so much.

And Sora would laugh.

He’d wrap his arms around Riku’s waist and nuzzle close to him. They would talk about their day of training even though they had just spent the whole day training, together. Sora would fall asleep telling his stories and only then would Riku kiss him good night because that was the only time he was brave enough to do it. But Sora wouldn’t be asleep. And he’d demand Riku kiss him again. And again and again. And each kiss would be less nerve wrecking than the last. Riku would fall asleep feeling Sora’s warm skin and soft lips. And his slim frame that fit so perfectly against his muscular one. And he would wake up the next day and realize it was all a dream, or an illusion, or whatever the hell it was.

And it would start all over again.

So when Riku actually felt a warm (real), gentle hand run through his hair... Soft, slender fingers against his neck, he was so tempted. Oh so tempted. And for a flicker of a second he did see Sora’s face in Roxas. Riku gently let his fingertips brush away the strands of blond bangs on Roxas’ forehead. He wanted to imagine they were Sora’s messy brown ones. Imagine his flushed cheeks were Sora’s, bright and pink. His eyes were the exact same blue as Sora’s it almost scared him. Riku clinched his fist on the pavement.

But Roxas was not Sora no matter how much they looked alike.

"No." Riku finally replied. "You’re not a replacement for Sora. And you know that better than anyone. Sora... He told you that." Riku said, eyebrows furrowed.

Roxas stared at him for a bit before closing his eyes, sighing. "He did... didn’t he..." His grip around Riku’s neck loosened, but he didn’t completely let him go.

"You and Sora. Even if I tried... I could never mistake you. You, who’s so quick to anger." He smiled genuinely, the hand playing in Roxas’ hair now on his cheek. "You, Roxas, with the sharp tongue and the presence so strong an enemy would shutter as soon as you entered the area." Roxas’ eyes widened. "Whereas-"

"Whereas, Sora," Roxas continued, "is the one who would brighten up any room as soon as he entered it." He smiled small. "And Sora, who could never say a bad thing about anyone no matter how much they deserved it."

Riku nodded, “Yeah.”

Roxas felt so stupid, but relieved. Roxas stiffened under Riku, suddenly feeling self conscious at their positions. He let his hands fall from Riku’s shoulders to his chest. "Yeah..." He whispered.

......................

"If we had gone through with it, would you have hated it?" Roxas looked up from the half empty glass of water in his hands. He hadn't realized he had zoned out. The little lamp on Merlin's table stung his eyes. Had he dozed off? The tall, red chair at Merlin’s table was cozier than it looked.

Roxas looked across the room. Riku was on that damn computer again, staring intently at the screen. "Sorry... What did you say?" Roxas asked.

Riku let out a long sigh, "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

Roxas groggily looked back down at his hands. The hands he used to touch Riku. The hand he used to caress Riku’s hair.

Back when he had dreams about Sora, Roxas recalled Sora always looking at Riku. He always admired his height, his strength, and his long, silver hair. The silver hair Sora secretly longed to touch...

Roxas closed his eyes.

I’m sorry, Sora.

If they had gone further, would he have liked it? His feelings for Riku, Sora’s feelings for Riku, weld up in his stomach. Even though I’m not Sora... Sora’s memories, Sora’s feelings for Riku were still imbedded in his heart. So had Riku desired it, he would have kept going.

Roxas’ chest tightened.

He was a terrible person.

"I know you want to. So kiss me... Like you would Sora." Roxas ran a hand through Riku’s hair, "Touch me like you would Sora."

Riku clinched his teeth before leaning in and kissing the blond on the lips. And Roxas parted his lips instantly, welcoming Riku’s touch.

#kingdom hearts #fanfic #fanfiction #roxas #riku #kingdom hearts 3

[gem-quest]

[ QUEST 01. — I N F E R N A ]

taglist: @ayzrules​ @bebemoon​ @atimefordragons​ @armadasneon​ @now-on-elissastillstands​ @interluxetumbra​ @pulltheskydown​

Inferna was hanging out in her favorite spot in Yue City - the lousy excuse of a Chinese restaurant, because it was just so easy to market her Inferna Sauce and sriracha to players who came away disappointed by the Asian dishes with absolutely zero seasoning - when the announcement popped up in the sky.

[  . . . T O U R N E Y . A N D . F A I R . I N . W I L D F L O W E R . M E A D O W . . . L E V E L . O N E . . .  ]

"Well, shit, that's just right around the corner," Inferna said out loud, putting away her sauce for the time being. She wasn't sure if she was going to compete - she'd prooobably get distracted by the free food - but it might be fun to just watch for a little bit.

So, with one over-dramatic whoosh of her hooded black capelet (which was decorated with intricate gold embroidery, because Inferna didn't wear things that were plain, thank you very much), Inferna was off.

When she got to the meadowlands, the entire place was filled with stalls and throngs of players eager to watch the tournament. Inferna decided that she'd watch the tournament after some refreshments, and immediately headed for the food stalls. She stocked up on some chicken pot pies and mead, nibbling on an apple turnover as she browsed. Eventually, she came across a wyvern being turned over a spit, and tossed the NPCs roasting the thing a coin in exchange for a hunk of meat, which she drizzled her homemade hot sauce over before biting into.

It tasted just like chicken. Then again, most meats that weren't pork or beef also tasted like chicken, in Inferna’s opinion.

Rats, for example; Inferna had been dared to eat a rat skewer in the City of Magic, once. She did it, and got a whole blueberry pie in return. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy. And that pie had been good.

Inferna wandered around for another thirty minutes, snacking on the wyvern kebab, before finally making her way over to the lists. She frowned when she noticed that there were almost no seats, instead hopping up onto the balustrade after shoving all the dumb meatheads out of the way.

There. That’s a perfect view, she thought, satisfied. She was taking in the sight of the Moonstone player with the pretties armor she’d ever seen facing off an Obsidian player in all black, just as she felt someone flick her calf.

“What the f-” Inferna’s muttered profanity was cut off when she noticed who it was.

"Hey, what’s up? You’re Neddy, right?" she asked, grinning widely. Inferna had met Neddy back in Level Ten, AKA Finvarra’s Gardens, and honestly, Inferna thought she was the sweetest thing. And her dragon, ugh - Inferna would never! Get! Over! Jack!!!!

The other girl looked up. "Inferna?" 

Inferna beamed down at her and offered her a hand up instead of answering. 

Neddy took her hand, and Inferna pulled her up onto the balustrade with her. “View’s better up here,” she told her with a wink, grinning her usual shit-eating grin.

Inferna was about to go back to watching the action - the Obsidian player had easily unseated the Moonstone one - when she noticed...was that Jack?!?! Riding in a basket on Neddy’s back?????

She gave an excited half-squeal, half-exclaimation. “God, Jack is so freaking adorable! Does he still like sugar cubes?" she fired off, pulling out a sugar cube she’d gotten from the Tearoom, as well as a tiny bottle of Inferna Sauce (she’d decided that she was going to make mini bottles to carry around outside of her inventory, just for convenience). She dunked the sauce onto the sugar cube.

"How are you faring out there?" asked Neddy.

“It’s been pretty chill on my end,” Inferna replied, giving the Moonstone player a cheeky grin. “Haven’t really done anything exciting, besides get some blueberry scones from the Tearoom yesterday; they’re amazing. I was at Level 39 the other day too, but fighting the dragon is so much work, so I fucked off after a few minutes.”

Her attention strayed back to Neddy’s dragon. “Ooh, fuck, Jack is so cute. Here, you’re a good boy, aren’t you?” she said, gently tossing the sugar cube in the air and clapping with delight when Jack caught it in his mouth.

“What about you? Got anything fun going on?” she asked Neddy a moment later, tearing her eyes away from the miniature dragon.

"Nothing quite as exciting as thirty-nine," Neddy replied. "I've just gotten through floor twenty-nine by the skin of my teeth. Mermaid Cove won't be easy for me since I'm currently, you know, on my own."  

Inferna nodded, grimacing. “Oh, yeah, that level’s a pain in the ass if you don’t have a party. I think I got through it by just finding a group that needed an extra person who didn’t care about Angel’s Breath. Aydina - that’s the NPC you go up against - is kind of a cunt, too. Like, I get that it’s just pre-written dialogue, but the lady could be nicer while trying to fuck us over with that dodgeball of hers, you know?”

Inferna rolled her eyes at the thought of the pirate queen. Really, though, she was a cunt, she mused to herself. Everything she said, just - ugh! So unnecessary. 

It was a known fact that Inferna talked so much shit about any and all of the NPCs in the game. She was a bit infamous for it within the Obsidian Guild, actually, which was something that Inferna was immensely proud of.

"I’m not very good at dodgeball," said Neddy.

Inferna shrugged. “It was my favorite thing in gym, when I still had to take that bullshit class. All I did was dick around and throw balls at the annoying people in my grade, even if they were technically on my team,” she said, in the most solemn voice she could muster. 

She continued. “I thought that level was pretty fun, besides Aydina’s totally unnecessary commentary. So I can help you, if you want,” she said, “if you bribe me somehow. Since I don’t see how helping you with dodgeball helps my Guild, after all.”

Neddy seemed surprised. "Bribe?" she managed to get out. "I don't have much in the way of coin. . . . I'm not formidable by any means. Surely, it won't hurt Obsidian any if you help little old me move through a lower floor."

Inferna narrowed her eyes, skeptical. “Little old you and a dragon,” she pointed out, gesturing towards Jack. As cute as Jack was, both miniature and at his full size, he was still a, you know, dragon.

Neddy nodded, slowly. "Yeah. Okay- well, I can give you all the apricot tartlets in my inventory if you help me out."

Inferna bit her lip. Apricot tartlets? That was...that was a tempting offer. Plus, dodgeball was really fun, and plus, Inferna sort of owed Neddy, because Neddy had saved Inferna from being eternally trapped in Level Ten with that insufferable faerie prince (but the sweets on that level all looked absolutely divine, so could you really blame her?).

“Alright fine, I’ll do it,” Inferna agreed, flipping her red hair over one shoulder. “Just tell me when, and I’ll be there. But don’t make it before noon, or I’ll probably sleep straight through it. Like, I’m not even kidding; last semester I somehow slept through ten alarms and missed a 12:30 PM lab. So don’t make it before twelve.”

She narrowed her eyes, again. “Now hand over those tartlets.”

After Neddy had given her the tartlets, Inferna lingered for a little while, then decided to go find some other food to eat, nibbling on one of the tartlets as she went. She bought a steak and mashed potatoes dish, stowing it away in her virtual inventory for the time being.

A commotion by the lists caught her attention, about an hour or so later. Intrigued, Inferna crept closer, just in time to see a fellow Obsidian player wearing a flowy dress win a duel. Inferna cheered with the rest of her Guild, elbowing closer for a better view.

Hey, she thought, suddenly. Isn’t that the girl I saw yesterday?

Inferna let her gaze follow the blonde girl as she collected her prize money and went off towards one of the open areas. She took off after her, finding that it was extraordinarily easy to follow the other player when she was wearing a pretty flower crown - all she had to do was look for the flowers in the crush of people.

Once Inferna reached the grassy field, she scanned the area before finally locating the girl she met at the Descend the day before.

“Oh, hey,” Inferna said, trotting over. A quick glance at her profile said that she went by ‘Morningstar’. “I saw your duel, by the way. Congrats on winning.” She grinned.

Morningstar gave her a scathing look. Inferna ignored it and flopped down to sit on the grass next to her, dragging out a bottle of Inferna Sauce from her inventory, as well as as the steak and mashed potatoes dish she’d just purchased. She all but drenched the food with her hot sauce, because everything in the game was so damn bland - to someone who’d grown up eating spicy food, anyway. 

“Do you want some, by the way?” Inferna asked, glancing up at Morningstar and grinning again. “It’s hot sauce. For when the white people food in this game gets too boring.”

She paused, for a moment. “I’ll trade you a bottle for a potion that makes me feel like I’ve just smoked some weed, if you have any. Or if you have anything like vodka? This mead and ale and stuff is fine, but jesus fucking christ, sometimes I just want to take two shots and be done.”

The two of them talked for a bit. Inferna mentioned that she’d be doing dodgeball with Neddy soon, and asked Morningstar if she’d want to join in. Then, once Inferna was hungry again, she got up and went searching for more food.

I should probably also get something if I’m going up against Aydina again, she thought. God, but she’s such a fucking cunt.

As such, Inferna found the marketplace and bought herself a few propugnatio potions, knowing that she’d need them to up her defense for the underwater dodgeball game; as a fire-mage, she was more vulnerable in aquatic environments. She also stocked up on fortissime potions, just to make sure her fiery attacks would pack an extra punch.

Satisfied with her haul, Inferna tossed the items into her inventory and went towards one of the stalls selling pastries. God, but they smelled good.

#writing #q1 #inferna #vicky #inferna story #wildflower meadow #yue city #s/o to fanfan for dialogue!!!

[firegrilled]

Mommas’ Boys - Part 3

@erejeanweek2k19 Prompt: Danger

Part 1 | Part 4

Summary: Jean takes it upon himself to show his whole school that he’s turned a new leaf, but he didn’t expect his and Eren’s moms to bear witness to the rather embarrassing moment.

 Glancing at her watch, Celine smiled.

“Thirty minutes to spare,” she mumbled to herself as she walked around the corner of the city block, her heels clacking with each step. Her eyes honed in on the cozy little café at the end of the block. “Carla should be proud of me this week.”

Celine was barely inside the building before she noticed her lunch date already sitting in a corner, typing furiously at a computer. Her mouth fell into a frown when she noticed Carla’s frazzled appearance. While Mrs. Jaeger was hardly the picture of business, a wrinkled shirt and barely combed hair were unusual even for her.

Rather than order a coffee she walked over to her friend, pulling up a chair.

“Someone is here early,” Celine commented, spooking Carla.

Her friend jumped in her seat, placing a hand over her chest. “Celine! I wasn’t expecting you for another hour… Wait, you’re early today!”

“Perks of managing one of the smaller branches. Same pay but much less hours and work.”

Celine rested her purse on the table as she took a seat.

“Oh I’m so glad to hear. I’m sure Jean must love that,” Carla smiled. “After being away for so long…”

Dark bags drooped under Carla’s eyes but Celine remained silent.

“Yeah, a summer turned into a year abroad but it did him a lot of good. My maman always had a firm hand. Can you believe Jean actually does the dishes and is so incredibly polite? And I haven’t heard from Erwin at all this first semester.”

“Really?” Astonishment evident in Carla’s voice. “Eren has mentioned he’s better behaved even if he’s still hanging with those same hooligans from middle school.”

Sighing, Celine nodded. “I’d heard that but he doesn’t see them after school anymore. I pick him up straight from track. He might’ve been way out of line but he was right, I wasn’t there for him so now I’m going to make sure I am.”

Carla placed her hand over Celine’s, grasping it.

“I’m so proud of you, both of you.”

“Thanks, dear. But that doesn’t explain why you’re here so early, and on a laptop no less. What’s going on?”

At that question the light behind Carla’s eyes faded. She pulled her hand back and reached into her pocket to pull out a tissue. Water formed at the edges of her eyes but she dabbed them away before they fell.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time before you found out, but Grisha… the world learned he faked the results of some of his papers. He’s lost all credibility in the scientific world and the hospital fired him for academic dishonesty. He left home a week ago and never returned,” Carla answered in a hushed tone, sorrow hanging over her words.

“Oh honey, that was his lab in the news?”

“Yes. I thought he just needed some time to clear his head but today he reached out to me. He doesn’t know when he’s coming back and he withdrew most of our savings, his savings. Now we need to move before the end of the month and I need to find a job to provide for Eren and Mikasa.”

A sob escaped Carla causing her to hunch over. She wiped away the tears as they came but she kept her voice steady.

Déjà vu hit Celine like a ton of bricks, unearthing long repressed memories. She trembled thinking about Carla’s situation but soon regained her composure. Placing a firm hand on Carla’s shoulder, she looked her right in the eyes.

“You will get through this, Carla. It’ll be long and it won’t be easy but you’ll do this. Even though it feels like your entire world was wrenched away from you, you’re gonna pull it right back and continue being the best damn mom to those kids. I’ve been in your shoes before and I’ll help you as best I can.”

Sniffing, Carla tilted her head in confusion. “You have?”

“Yes, many years ago. Jean’s dad passed away when he was just a baby and he left me with the most wonderful child to raise by myself. I know it hurts so much and you feel defeated but it’s temporary. The world won’t stop turning because he’s gone. And Eren and Mikasa won’t stop needing you. Just focus on one step at a time and everything will slowly come back into place.”

“One step at a time… I need to find a home. We at least have enough for that and a little while longer,” Carla tried to clear her mind. She took long and deep breaths until she regained her composure.

“Right, and then we can work on finding a date for you to start your new job.”

Carla snorted gracelessly at that remark.

“Start my new job? I need to find a place that’ll take a resume of ‘housewife and mother – sixteen years’.”

“Not a problem, we have an opening at my branch that I’ll hold for you,” Celine offered.

Carla’s jaw dropped.

“R-really? You’d do that for me?”

“Of course! Just focus on the other important things like your kids. They need you.”

For the first time during their conversation, Carla’s expression relaxed and the life returned to her eyes.

“Thank you so much!”

As if on cue, Celine’s phone rang. The two women glanced down to see Erwin’s picture flash across the screen, wearing his usual stern expression.

“I think I might’ve jinxed myself,” Celine sighed, ignoring her friend’s chuckling. She swiped a finger across the screen and took the call. “Hello Erwin.”

“Hi, Celine-”

“Jean again?”

“-yes. We’ve had a rather awkward situation develop and I’d like you to come down.”

Rolling her eyes, Celine gave Carla a dull stare. “Should I bring Carla? We’re currently having lunch together.”

“Ah, give her my regards. Yes, please bring her too.”

Carla cocked an eyebrow until Celina nodded at her, causing her to hang her head. “Oh, Eren…”

“Alright, we’ll be right over,” Celine confirmed. Hanging the phone up, she gestured to the door. “I’ll drive.”

The two women paid the bill and left in a rush. Much to Celine’s surprise, Carla pointed out a quicker route to the school that she was unaware of and beat her personal best time. As they pulled up to park, they saw Erwin waiting at the doors to the school.

“I hope they didn’t get in a fight again,” Celine sighed. Her son was so close to making it one semester without trouble. So damn close.

“Here’s to hoping,” Carla shook her head, unbuckling her belt.

They carefully shut the doors to the Honda Civic before joining Erwin on the sidewalk.

“Carla, Celine, I hope today has treated you well… Or at least as best as the circumstances allow,” Erwin greeted, his eyes focusing on Carla for the latter part of his statement.

“It was,” Celine said. “What happened? What did they fight about this time?”

Erwin frowned, shaking his head. “I’m afraid it’s not that simple. Good news is that the boys didn’t fight each other for once.”

Celine flinched at those words. “Come again?”

“From what I’ve gathered the boys didn’t fight each other. In fact, Jean defended Eren this morning from his friends.”

“Jean defended Eren? From what?” Celine interrogated the man, disbelief in her voice.

Eren wasn’t a boy that needed defending.

“Mr. Wagner and his little group were harassing Eren about his father,” Erwin started, pausing when Carla’s mood instantly soured. “Jean took exception to this and verbally lambasted them.”

“Oh he didn’t throw a punch, thank goodness,” Celine released a held breath, wiping her forehead she smiled.

“Correct, but he might as well have. His so-called friends saw fit to tape these to every locker in the building.”

Erwin pulled a neatly folded paper from his breast pocket, extending it to Celine. She quickly unfurled it, nearly dropping it when she saw the contents: a grainy picture of her son with large words underneath it.

“’Jean Kirschtein is a faggot’?” Celine read aloud, her blood freezing in her veins. “His friends did this?”

“Yes, we have them on camera. We currently have Jean in the office to shield him from harassment. Eren is also present since he took it upon himself to avenge Jean’s honor,” Erwin informed the mothers. He gestured to the building, “If you’d follow me we can go see them.”

Carla shook her head at the news.

Just as the three stepped towards the building, the doors swung open to reveal Levi dressed in a custodial outfit. “Erwin, get to the office. Now!”

“What?” Erwin tilted his head in confusion as they walked to the building. He quickly realized something was off when he heard the school’s PA echoing in the halls.

“…and the time we thought Connie shat himself on the bus to DC? That was Mina after she ate Taco Bell for the first time. Totally just blamed him and everyone bought it. Oh and she cheated on you Connie with Thomas. And then cheated on him with Franz who then cheated on her with Hannah,” Jean’s distinct voice announced.

Celine placed a hand over her mouth as the color drained from her face. While she listened to her son’s speech she noticed the posters lining the halls. Every locker with a picture of her son’s face with those nasty words underneath them.

“Let’s go, now,” Erwin stated, immediately power-walking for the office. He didn’t miss the smirk on Levi’s face as the janitor listened to the juicy gossip.

“But Thomas, you hypocrite, you’re the one that made out with Franz when you were both tipsy. And I just love how you told everyone you lost your virginity already. News flash, you fucked your stuffed bear Mr. Tinkles and pretended it was a big deal,” Jean continued. Repeated dull thuds could be heard in the background but Jean seemingly ignored it.

Celine kept her mouth bolted shut as she heard her son using such brazen language.

“And what about Franz? You really haven’t done too much. Besides the fact you like to pick your nose and eat the boogers. And that you wet your bed until like three years ago.”

The three adults were almost at a jogging pace when they could faintly hear someone shout, “Liar!”

“Call me what you want but I’m not a pants shitter, a toy fucker, or a cheater. Or a toy fucker. Poor Mr. Tinkles. In conclusion, fuck you three.”

Erwin and the mothers arrived at the principal’s office in time to see Hanji shoulder-checking the door. Each attempt was in vain as the wood held strong.

“Hanji, where are the keys?” Erwin asked, leading Carla and Celine inside.

Turning to reveal crooked glasses, Hanji raised a finger and opened their mouth but no words came out.

“Oh, right. Those,” Hanji eventually spoke.

Quickly retrieving the keys from their pants pocket, Hanji unlocked the door to reveal Jean sitting in Erwin’s chair facing the window with a sorrowful look while Eren was on the floor wheezing. Eren grabbed his sides while laughter wracked his body.

“Jean Alexandre Kirschtein, what have you done?” Celine asked, catching the attention of both the boys.

Jean spun around in the chair, his expression now akin to a deer in the headlights.

“Maman-!”

Carla’s eyes fell to her son who struggled to regain his composure. With a concerted effort Eren managed to stifle his laughter.

“He just straight up murdered Thomas Wagner, Mina Carolina, and Franz Kefka. Good riddance,” Eren explained, wiping a tear from his eyes. “Oh this is the best day of my life.”

Carla covered her mouth with her hand at her son’s reaction. It wasn’t disappointment or anger that kept her silent, but awe. Jean managed to bring a wide smile to her son’s face.

Erwin crossed his arms as he stepped into the room, clearing his throat. “My chair?”

Not needing to be told twice, Jean scampered away from the leather chair and into one of the plush chairs on the side. “Sorry, sir.”

“Why, Jean? They would’ve been disciplined and punished accordingly,” Erwin wondered as he pulled a pink sheet from his desk. He started scribbling on it, looking at the calendar on his desk for the date.

“No offense, sir, but they wouldn’t have learned their lesson. I know them. They’ve never known what lines shouldn’t be crossed and a suspension wouldn’t do anything. Now they know what happens when you go after low hanging fruit.”

Celine pursed her lips, processing her son’s explanation. While she didn’t know what to make of her son’s very public stunt, she was moderately impressed by his reasoning. Not that she’d ever tell him that.

“Ms. Kirschtein, you know the drill. Please sign here that you understand the reason for his detention,” Erwin said as he slipped the pink paper across the desk.

“Only a detention?” She asked.

Even Jean perked up at that news.

“Yes, he’ll be in detention Monday morning for using the intercom inappropriately and slandering students. He’ll be joined by his friends of course but this is no reason for suspension,” Erwin explained.

“Of course, thank you,” Celine nodded as she signed the line.

“You may take him home early today, I don’t wish for any further disturbances to our educational environment.”

“Okay, thank you.” Celine turned for the door when she noticed Carla. Before she could respond Carla held up her hand.

“It’s ok, I’ll get a ride with Levi. His shift should be ending soon and he was due to clean our house today. Go home Celine.”

Smiling, Celine replied. “Okay. We’ll talk about the other thing later. Please don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything else. Now, come along Jean.”

Carla nodded.

Jean got to his feet, shoving his hands in his pocket and keeping his eyes to the ground. Before he got too far, Eren called out to him.

“Hey, Jean. Thanks,” Eren grinned at him.

Jean returned a tiny smile and shrugged. “No problem.”

Celine almost tripped upon hearing those words but thankfully caught herself. Today was really full of surprises.

To Be Continued

#fic: Mommas' Boys #erejean #Eren Jaeger #Jean Kirschtein #jean kirstein #jean's mom #carla jaeger #erejeanweek2k19 #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #jean and eren finally make peace #shingeki no kyojin #snk #side eruri

[cyb-by-lang]

Shell Game (10/?)

Kei’s week ends on a couple of high notes.

Saturday’s four class periods were entirely mundane after the ridiculous first week, because Kei didn’t get pulled out and wasn’t being shouted at by anyone but Isobu, who knew multiplication better than she did. He was also picking up Modern Literature coursework faster, which Kei figured said more about her than him. Even a week into the term, she was not the best student. Senioritus set in early and didn’t let go.

Honestly, if not for the utter havoc of the first three days, Kei probably would have said it was a nice way to end the week. As things stood now, though, she was a little antsy and rather eager to get out of UA. Everything going wrong seemed tied to the school. Lying to Midoriya and saying she’d had a run-in with a mugger didn’t make it less true.

It seemed like it was going well until she was about to walk out the front door of UA, at which point a voice more accustomed to booming tried to whisper, “Young Gekkō, if I could have a word?”

Kei turned on her heel and stared down the…emaciated dude in an oversized yellow pinstripe suit. Kei blinked twice, surprised. While she’d seen the guy around, in the same vague way as she knew the school had other class years and people who weren’t involved in almost dying a lot, she couldn’t put a name to the face. If she had to make a comparison, especially with the way his baritone didn’t seem to suit his body, she’d call him Skinny Steve.

“Fine,” Kei said, and followed back into the thrice-damned school building. “I’m assuming you’re a teacher here?”

“You’d be right,” he said. “Heroics only, however.”

Huh. “Makes sense. I don’t recognize you.”

This could be a trap.

At this point in the week, I’m about ready to push somebody out a window for that kind of crap. Let me have this.

Once again, Kei made her way to the all-too-familiar staff room. Ambling along after the unidentified teacher, she spotted Mummy-Aizawa snoozing under a desk. Or maybe his yellow sleeping bag had just developed sapience and its owner’s personality. It was hard to tell.

Nonetheless, the pair of them settled on the couch (skinny dude) and the opposite chair (Kei). There was tea already there, but it’d long gone cold.

“Did you need to speak to me about something…?” Kei trailed off, unsure what to call him. She didn’t have the civilian names of most of the teachers memorized anyway, and it was at least plausible that this guy had been a hero in the past.

“I wanted to apologize,” the guy said, drawing a blank look from Kei.

“Okay…?” Kei paused. This was already awkward enough. “Look, what do I call you?”

There was a pause on his end, too. Then, much akin to Tsunade’s youthful facade stitching together after she used her regeneration a little too much, the bony guy filled out right in front of Kei’s eyes. It went fast enough that the air actually popped, and the guy’s hair shot upright like gel was some universal law unto All Might.

…Is All Might secretly a muscly balloon animal? Kei mentally whacked Isobu’s shell. Did you see that?!

I am using your eyes to see. I certainly saw that.

“Uh,” said Kei, once Isobu whacked her in retaliation. “That’s a…neat trick?”

The conservation of mass is a lie.

It may just be on vacation.

As though Kei hadn’t said anything or made a deer-in-headlights face at him, All Might bowed about as far as he could while sitting. “Young Gekkō, I most humbly apologize for the strike I dealt you during the USJ incident! Had I taken thorough stock of the situation, I would not have made such a heinous miscalculation! My apologies!”

The sapient sleeping bag grumbled a general affirmative. Sounded like Aizawa-sensei had probably said more when he had more energy. That was about as close to approval Kei had ever gotten from him.

“I mean,” Kei said after a second, “if I hadn’t known I wasn’t going to hurt anyone besides the villains, I would’ve probably punched me too.”

“You should never make excuses for the poor actions of pro heroes, Young Gekkō!” All Might insisted, while Kei tried to subtly reel back from the volume he was using. “As a symbol of my trust, I have revealed my true form. It is a poor apology for my actions at the USJ, but I hope it is one step toward forgiveness, Young Gekkō!”

“Well, then I can do this?” Kei waved a hand in front of her face just as All Might looked up. Between her hand cutting off his view and no longer doing so, she’d let Isobu’s chakra leak into her coils. Her eyes itched a little, as they always did when they took on Isobu’s traits. “The, uh, the thing I do? This is the most basic stage. Can’t do the other one indoors without breaking things.”

The two of them regarded each other—a man with pitch-black where white ought to be in his eyes, and a girl with utterly inhuman eyes from another being entirely.

“Just accept the apology already,” Aizawa-sensei griped from the corner. “I’m trying to sleep.”

But he had a point. “I accept your apology, All Might-sensei. Please don’t do it again.”

Just as Kei dropped the usage of Isobu’s chakra, All Might poofed back into his skinny shape. Once the smoke cleared, he scratched at the back of his now-limp head of hair. “You’re pretty easygoing…”

“Did you expect something different?” Kei asked, gently challenging.

“I did, but now I see I was wrong.” All Might settled back onto the couch, but he did bow one last time. Just a bit. “Go on, Young Gekkō. Enjoy your weekend.”

“Thanks, All Might-sensei.”

“When I look like this, please call me Yagi-sensei.”

Kei waited just long enough to make sure she wasn’t going to be scolded for using the title even for his incognito form, but nothing was forthcoming after Kei bowed to show her agreement. On her way out of the room, she leapt neatly over Aizawa-sensei and ducked out into the hall.

It was time to leave the freaking campus behind for the week.

She checked her phone once she was on the train, ignoring news updates for the moment.

GreenThumb: u get hayate for sat-sun

GreenThumb: hes been buggin me for 2 days

GreenThumb: and u need more marble things

TMNT-TNT: Hand the phone to him

GreenThumb: r u on ur way back?

TMNT-TNT: Yeah but he doesn’t have a phone

TMNT-TNT: Have him call me

Not four seconds later, Kei’s phone started ringing. “Yeah?”

“I get to stay over the weekend!” Hayate’s grin was audible. “And you have to let me see the city this time. I got the Hokage to sign off for a ‘cultural project.’”

Kei didn’t want to know how much wheedling it would’ve taken Sensei to cave to Hayate’s demands, because there was a chance it’d be used against her. “Okay, but the first thing we need to do is get you clothes to blend in better.”

“Seriously?” But before Kei could argue her point, Hayate gave in. “Fine, fine. I’ve been looking out the window and nobody dresses like Obito.”

There was a muffled “Hey!” in the background.

“These phone things are pretty cool,” Hayate managed to say, while apparently fighting Obito off one-handed. There was a thud and the sound of struggling stopped.

“They are,” Kei agreed.

“Come back soon, okay?” Hayate paused, thinking over what he’d just said and finding it a bit too heartfelt, then added in a brighter tone, “Or else we’ll both starve to death.”

Teenagers. “Got it.”

Well, it was like All Might said. Kei fully expected to enjoy her first weekend of the school year.

By the time she got back to the apartment, Obito looked like he was perfectly ready to leave for a week. Instead, though, he jokingly saluted Kei and only said he had one more delivery to go, at which point he disappeared into thin air with a message scroll.

Kei, who could recognize Sensei’s calligraphy on the outside wrapping at a glance, let him get on with it. She had a kid brother to look after instead.

“Please don’t make me wear one of those,” Hayate said, indicating Kei’s school uniform. To Hayate’s shinobi-trained sensibilities, it probably looked pretty ridiculous. Kei didn’t disagree.

“I won’t,” Kei promised, and once she had a chance to change, they were off.

Kei, who had quite the discretionary budget and little to spend it on besides food and train fare, found that her little brother’s presence had a way of punching a hole in her established bottom line. It wasn’t because he was hard to provide for, but rather that he had a list and was checking it twice. Hayate wouldn’t have minded going to tourist hotspots or trying junk food that didn’t exist in Konoha, but people back home had tacked on things like university-level medical textbooks (Rin), ludicrously specific novelty kitchen gadgets (Kushina), and omamori from every shrine they could find (Genma). As such, Kei spent most of Saturday afternoon running errands with her kid brother in tow.

Shinobi weren’t above making a conveniently traveling friend buy souvenirs.

Hayate, for his part, had plenty of fun flitting from place to place like a kid at a theme park once Kei got him a replacement for his haori-style coat. There was no way to fully hide his starstruck behavior, but Kei found that his constant rubbernecking and the barrage of questions actually revealed how much she’d been learning about Tokyo. And, underneath her constant griping, her appreciation for the city and all it offered. Even with the occasional superpowered fight.

“This kind of stuff is so unnecessary,” Hayate muttered while they waited for a train. The second ride of the day, in fact.

“Mass transportation?” Kei asked, still half-listening to the station announcements. Between the various circuits they’d made and Kei’s lingering unfamiliarity with the system, it’d be easy to get lost. Again.

“Yeah. I mean, can’t we just…run?” Hayate kept his voice down, at least. “I mean, so many of us can go so fast…”

“Turning to technology means that more people can benefit, though,” Kei explained distractedly. “I mean, it’s not just about people with powers, you know?”

Though the shinobi world sure pretended it was. Half the roads even in Konoha weren’t paved. Kei probably ought to tell Sensei to rethink that policy, but it was difficult to explain without vehicles to reference.

Hayate frowned. “I guess?”

And though Kei hadn’t been a student at UA for long, or managed to be particularly good at it, she could say, “There’s also the fact that even heroes with really wild powers tend to use support items. Endeavor can’t exactly go around wearing normal clothes with his face on fire.”

Though she did kind of question why All Might couldn’t find clothes that fit both of his forms.

“So…” Hayate leaned back a little, hands loaded down by shopping bags. “Is it like fūinjutsu?”

“A bit,” Kei agreed. “But instead of spending years mastering the art alone—”

“You can have a lot of people benefit because anybody can use it,” Hayate concluded, which was a bit of a forty-five degree turn. But it was okay. Not a great analogy, but not the worst ever made.

Kei shrugged. “Sure.”

They made it through a few more stops before Hayate really started to flag. It had little to do with actual endurance, and a lot more to do with mental fatigue. Any person could only process so much in a day, and shoving Hayate into an urban environment even with a tour guide was a bit over the top.

“I’ve never seen so many buildings or people in my entire life,” Hayate said, once they were on the last train of the day. His shopping bags had ballooned a bit, making it difficult for others to find places to sit. “How can you stand it?”

“I got used to it,” Kei replied, rearranging the bags to give other people a few more spaces to sit. This was absolutely silly. “You holding up okay?”

“Mostly?” Hayate managed to keep a straight face for a while, then couldn’t hide a jaw-cracking yawn though he ducked his head. “Sorry, it’s a lot.” He scrubbed at his eyes with the heel of his free hand, like he’d been trying not to do all day. The city air didn’t agree with him. They’d already had to pick up cough medicine just in case.

“Good thing we’re headed back, then,” Kei was feeling the day drag on, too. “I’ll cook. You take a nap and we’ll have a slower day tomorrow.”

Hayate, after managing a tired, “Sounds good,” ended up dozing on a still-wrapped All Might hoodie. He wasn’t much more awake on the walk back.

While Hayate napped on the spare futon and Kei reheated stewed pumpkin, Isobu decided to check in.

What are the chances your Hokage only sent an itemized expense report for damages? Isobu didn’t sound like he cared about the answer.

It’s more likely that Sensei just bit Nezu’s head off in writing. Kei leaned against the counter and sighed. I was really more focused on how All Might, of all people, has an actual secret identity. Everyone else has their names listed and works with an agency.

Does the mutual unmasking have to mean anything? I am content to stew in resentment.

Then I won’t stop you. But the mission on our end doesn’t change much. Kei scratched the lowest corner of her scar. Today’s been all right. I don’t want to ruin it now.

Fine, Isobu huffed.

It was just a quiet night in, but it meant a lot even in this strange place.

#Shell Game #Keisuke Gekko #Hayate Gekko #Isobu #All Might #aizawa shouta #Obito Uchiha

[eliegloryofficial]

Chasing Stars

summary: Once a world-renowned musician, Lucy Heartfilia put her violin away for the last time when she was seventeen. Five years later, she finds herself drawn back into the world of music after meeting a pianist with a fiery style of playing.

fandom and pairing(s): Fairy Tail, Natsu Dragneel / Lucy Heartfilia, others to be listed as they appear

Chapter One: An Unexpected Call

ff.net | ao3 | chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

“The second Lucy Heartfilia’s bow touches the strings, the world seems to stand still in patient anticipation for what comes next.”

They meant it as a compliment. It and variations of the phrase were penned in almost every interview, every review no matter how retroactive. It became a model for aspiring musicians to follow, each performance just another attempt to recreate what the judges had already decided only Lucy Heartfilia could accomplish. For her part, she never actually made comment on the frequent review. Smiled and nodded along just as she was supposed to and thanked them for taking the time to speak with her. Exactly as she was supposed to.

The fact of the matter was, however, that it simply wasn’t sure. The world didn’t stop when she started playing. For Lucy, the world could only ever begin when everything else fell silent around her except for the practice perfect draws of her bow. It was the only time she felt safe, the only time she had ever felt alive. Heart pounding in beat of the conductor’s wand and fingers dancing across the neck of her violin as if nothing else mattered – and nothing ever did. Not as much as the music. No, the world only came to an end when her bow was gently lifted off the strings and pointed back to the ground.

But there wasn’t a good way to convey that in a magazine interview.

For years, Lucy thought that all there could ever be in life was the violin. She played until her fingers cracked apart and then bled through the glue meant to hold them together. She perfected every song from every symphony she ever performed until she could play it blind and deaf. There was nothing else; there could be nothing else. It all made so much sense, until the day it didn’t.

Suddenly, at the peak of her career and with no end in sight, she cancelled her upcoming performances. Disappeared from the public eye. Reports went up around the city, asking where she went. People suspected foul play, more than a few suspected she had been murdered. She hadn’t cared what they said, wouldn’t have addressed it at all if not for the insistence in which it was covered. Finally, her father stood before the press and announced that Lucy would be taking a short hiatus from performing so she could focus on her studies.

She was seventeen the last time she picked up a violin.

~

Friday

(08:17) Hello Lucy. As you must be aware, I will be forced to move the estate soon, and I would like you to come and collect your violin and music collection. Please come by as quickly as possible. Regards, your father.

The phone had just turned dark again when Lucy finally understood the text she had just received. “I’m sorry, what?” she hissed, smashing her thumb against the button to once more unlock it. Levy and Cana both looked up when she spoke, but Lucy was too focused on her phone to notice her friends. Just as before, the words flashed across the screen, caged by the first gray box in their text thread. Part of her expected a follow-up text to appear saying that it was just a joke, but her father rarely joked in person, let alone through a text that was sighed ‘regards’.

As both of her companions asked what was going on, Lucy practically jumped out of the wooden seat, thumbs swiping the screen to call him. Jude answered after only a couple rings, his voice sounding more exhausted than she could recall. “Good morning, Lucy.”

“What do you mean you’re being forced to move the estate?”

The words slipped out of her a little louder than intended, and Lucy quickly moved outside the small coffee shop for privacy. There was the slightest rustle on the other end, a deep sigh. “I’m afraid the Heartfilia Konzern has not been doing well these last several years,” he explained. “Nothing terribly serious, but enough to warrant a change. Something perhaps a bit smaller, more modest.”

Admittedly, she didn’t much follow her family’s business all too much, but it wasn’t much of a surprise. With air travel so readily available these days, it was a wonder any of the old railroad families had stayed profitable. At least he wasn’t totally bankrupt. “What about Mama’s grave?” Lucy asked, swallowing thickly. That was the most important part, to her. Who cared about the acres of land and state of the art restructured mansion? “That won’t be staying behind, right?”

“Of course not. I’ve already arranged to have it moved. I don’t have the address in front of me at the moment, but I’ll be sure to send it you once I do.”

Lucy exhaled shakily, not realizing she had been holding her breath. “Good. Thank you,” she said, leaning against the building. Her friends were still watching her, staring at her back through the window as they formulated questions to bombard her with the second she returned. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to return to Crocus, I have work every day for the next week or so. Couldn’t you just mail it to me?” Lucy fidgeted slightly, tugging at the bottom of her jacket. The idea of sending her violin through the mail felt repulsive, even after all this time – too many things could go wrong, even in the highest quality case. She might not have any desire to continue playing, but she certainly didn’t want the treasured instrument to return to her in pieces.

Jude huffed. “And risk having such a valuable instrument shattered by a careless postal worker?” he scoffed. “Nonsense. Surely you could speak to your supervisor and request today off.”

Of course she could. It wasn’t a matter of could, it was a matter of wanting to be nowhere near the old family estate. “I have class.”

“You missed class all the time when you were in high school, and I have no recollection of such absence affecting your grades.”

She felt her face flush a little, scowling at the parking lot as if it were to blame. “I didn’t enjoy missing those classes, father,” Lucy snapped, feeling her patience running thin. So typical of her father to expect her to drop everything for his demands! For his part, he seemed to understand the annoyance in her tone and did not push it. Instead, all she could hear was another rustle, a sort of shift in the earpiece as he repositioned the cell phone from one ear to the other. Finally, after a terse few seconds, Lucy sighed. “I will speak to my supervisor and professors. How long will you be at the estate?”

Another rustle. “We’ve planned to leave tomorrow afternoon.”

Tomorrow afternoon.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?!” Lucy cried, pushing off the building. “First you text me out of the blue telling me you’re moving as if I’d have somehow known that all the way over here, and now this? That doesn’t give me a whole lot of time to get back, father.” The last word was practically spit, a deep-seeded resentment surfacing as it so easily did when they spoke.

“I know, and I am sorry.” Jude’s voice dropped a little, and Lucy closed her eyes to calm herself. “Please let me know as quickly as possible if I need to mail it to you.”

And with that, the line disconnected. She pulled the phone away from her cheek in disbelief, watching as the call faded away to her home screen. It had been almost five years since they were last in the same room, and Jude still somehow found a way to dismiss her! This was no better than briskly telling her she had permission to leave the room. Lucy glowered at her phone for a few seconds longer before shoving the device into her jacket pocket and storming back inside to where her friends were waiting. The questions began as soon as she took a seat, groaning loudly and allowing her forehead to smack down against the table. “I can’t believe this is happening to me,” Lucy whined.

“What is happening to you?” Levy insisted, crossing her arms against her chest. “Did something happen? Who was that you called?”

She groaned again. “My father wants to come back home so I can pick up my violin. Apparently, he’s moving and decided to wait until the literal last opportunity to let me know.” Still pouting, she lifted her head so that her chin was resting against the hard surface. Cana and Levy gave each other curious looks. They knew of her family – it was impossible not to when signs of Heartfilia railroad were still prominent across Magnolia – and her uncomfortable relationship with her father, but something else seemed to pique their interest.

Lucy realized too late what it must be, but they didn’t give her the chance to backtrack. “You played the violin?” Cana asked, dark eyebrows raised. “I didn’t know that.”

“I...yeah, I played a lot as a kid and a teenager,” she replied, glancing at the pattern on the table. There was a coffee stain not far from her that she focused on, shifting a little uncomfortably. “I stopped when I was about sixteen so I could focus more on school.”

“How could playing the violin take away from your studies that much?”

God help me. Lucy rose once more, shoving the textbook she had been attempting to read through into her bag and mumbling some excuse about needing to talk to her professor. “Wait! Lucy!” Levy called, reaching for her bag. Her fingers brushed across the material, but she was faster, already out of arms reach.

“I really need to talk to my supervisor and let my teachers know I might not be in class,” she said, forcing a nervous laugh. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

With her name echoing behind her, Lucy was gone. She moved quickly, glancing once over her shoulder to make sure Cana hadn’t decided to go running after her. Her friend was surprisingly agile when she wanted something, but there was no sign of either of them. Breathing a small sigh of relief, she slowed down, reaching into her pocket to find her phone already alight with frantic messages asking what all that had been about. She didn’t bother opening them, flicking the small switch on the side to silence any further texts while she halfheartedly asked her boss for the day off.

The walk to the library was quiet, and the few other students she passed looked like walking zombies. Students who had taken a morning class and had decidedly skipped every other one due to waking up late and then giving up rushing in favor of coffee. It had become familiar over the last few years, and she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Certainly not a day trip back to Crocus.

Inside the library was even quieter, and she nervously glanced around the front desk to see if her boss would be sitting at his desk. “Hey Hibiki,” Lucy called, pushing the small door open. He looked up at her voice, eyes blinking as if he was still lost in the world of whatever book he had been reading. “Sorry to bother you so early.”

“Not at all!” he said cheerfully, swiveling in the chair to face her. “Though I am a bit surprised to see you here so early. Your shift doesn’t start for another few hours, is everything alright?”

No. “Sort of,” she said with a shrug. “There’s been an unexpected emergency back home, and my father needs me to get over there and pick up the last few things I left behind. Today.” Lucy watched him carefully, hoping her tone would be enough to suggest how very much she’d rather not. Hibiki only watched her carefully, a frown decorating his handsome face so she could continue. “I need the day off. But I’ll make it up to you! I can work a double tomorrow, or come in next Thursday.”

“Nonsense!” Hibiki said, jumping up to his feet. “Of course you can have the day off! Is everything alright back home? It’s nothing too serious, I hope.” His concern was so genuine, it nearly caught the girl off guard, but she carefully rose her hands and softly explained that it was nothing major, just an unexpected relocation. “Well, either way, don’t worry about the shift. I’ll make sure to get it covered soon. Will you need someone to cover your class today, too?”

“I was actually going to just send an email and cancel it.”

He shook his head, frowning at her like the idea was totally outlandish. “Don’t you worry about a thing. Send me the lesson plan for today and I’ll personally see to it.”

After some time going back and forth, Lucy finally relented. Hibiki was a good boss, but he was an even better friend, so after a quick hug as thanks, she was off once more. The ride to Crocus would be about six hours or so with the various stops and personnel changes along the route, so she’d need at least a good book or her laptop to keep her amused. Lucy was a little lost in her own thoughts, half dreading the surprise trip home and half excited to see the older staff she had been close to. Ms. Spetto still sent her flowery emails every year wishing her a good birthday and such, and she knew it’d warm her heart to see for herself that she was doing just fine.

Her apartment was on the other side of campus, and the quickest route would be to cut through the Center for Performing Arts rather than walk the winding pathways around the quad. Lucy knew Magnolia University well, having lived on campus and in the general area ever since she left home in the middle of the night all those years ago.

Jude had been furious. How dare she spit on all the work he’d done for her, he demanded. But Lucy was steadfast in her decision, reminding him that she could finish high school on a laptop and took money only out of her own personal account. Legally, he could call the police and have her returned home since she was a minor (a fact mysteriously changed on her lease), but after three days of screaming at one another, he finally told her that she was on her own. They hadn’t spoken about it or much of anything in the years following, and she’d been a happy resident of Magnolia ever since. Returning home felt like a strange step backwards, a dive into the past she had so willingly abandoned.

But what else could she do?

The CPA was normally quiet this early, as most classes didn’t start until after at least eleven, but as Lucy pushed the heavy doors open, the unmistakable sounds of a piano rang through the halls. She paused in the entrance for a second, trying to name the tune, but while it certainly sounded familiar, there was something about it that escaped her. Pursing her lips, she checked the time on her phone and tried not to pay attention to the line of texts waiting to be read. Surely she had enough time to listen for a little bit, perhaps find the musician and ask them the name. Curiosity eventually won over and she quietly made her way through the maze of a building, following the sound of the piano. Her search eventually led her to the stage entrance of main auditorium, where she found the doors cracked open with a black and a red backpack propped between the doors. Lucy stared at it for a while, still trying to name the melody that was playing. Once or twice she thought she’d got it, but then it would suddenly shift, the notes taking an entirely new direction.

Whatever it was, it was unlike anything she’d ever heard before. And whoever was playing was unlike anyone she’d ever heard before. Trying not to disturb the musician, Lucy carefully squeezed between the doors, finally catching sight of the magnificent grand piano center stage. On the bench sat what appeared to be a young man, his back to her as he swayed and shifted with the music, hands moving across the keys without reserve. Lucy couldn’t help but watch, half of her attention caught on the pretty shade of his pink hair while the other lost itself in the music.

There was no sheet music, she realized after a few minutes. Nothing except the boy with pink hair and the fiery dance his fingers performed across the ivory. It was beautiful, whatever it was. Lucy closed her eyes and allowed herself to simply enjoy the music, foot instinctively tapping to the beat. For a second, she was no longer twenty-three and dreading the rest of her day.

Suddenly, she was thirteen and losing herself in her instrument. Her skin flushed under the lights of the stage, the slightest tremble of her leg as she tried to ignore the hundreds of eyes watching her. Life had been defined by the stage at that point, the clean black wood more a home than any aircraft recliner. It was a constant in a life where few others existed, and Lucy had to remind herself that she had been the one to walk away.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to leave, but her foot was closer to one of the curtain levers than she realized and she swiped across it in the process. The curtain shifted, just enough to make a noise, and the music cut off. “Fuck,” someone hissed, and Lucy watched as the pianist jumped to his feet, hands up and at the ready defensively. “I didn’t think you’d be here…this…early?”

He stared at her, and Lucy stared right back. They were close enough that she could see the olive green flash of his eyes and the matching pink of his cheeks as he flushed a little. Everything around them seemed to still, an empty silence where an audience should have been giving a standing ovation after such a brilliant performance. But there was no audience. “You aren’t Erza,” the boy finally said, relaxing his stance a little. “You aren’t here to, like, report me, are you?”

“Why would I report you?” Far as she was aware, so long as you were a student at the university, the instruments were free to use with professor approval. Perhaps not the grand piano in the main auditorium, but she could understand why a musician would prefer this to one of the public uprights littered across the building and campus.

He blinked, a hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “If you aren’t, I don’t think I should tell you. Just in case you change your mind,” he finally said, tilting his head to the side. “What’re you doing here anyways? Auditorium is locked.”

Lucy looked around. “Yeah, I know it is,” she said, placing her hands delicately on her hips. “Do you?” He stared at her for a second before laughing.

“Guess you got me there, huh?”

She smiled a little before glancing back at her phone. “I was just passing through and heard the music so I got curious. What were you playing, anyways?”

The boy shrugged. “Whatever I felt like, mostly.” He glanced back at the instrument and lightly dragged his fingers across the edge, expression softening a little. Lucy watched him for a second before turning away, feeling as if she had unintentionally interrupted some private moment. His love of the music was almost physical, exuding off of him in waves. “You play?” The question was soft, uncertain almost but not at all unwarranted. Why else would she have been in the CPA this early if not for practice? Lucy felt her fingers twitch a little, but she shook her head.

“No.”

“Not just piano, I meant. Anything.”

“Still no.”

Lucy cleared her throat, turning once more to leave. “Sorry to have disturbed you. I promise not to tell whoever Erza is that you picked the lock and hijacked the piano,” she called, waving once. The pianist huffed a little in response, but he didn’t stop her from leaving. Lucy stepped over his backpack carefully so as not to disturb the placement or accidentally slam the doors on him and quickly moved back through the building. The tune he had played was still echoing in her thoughts, and by the time she was unlocking the door to her apartment, she had started to hum along.

#wörter #fairy tail #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #fanfiction #elieg1ory writing #musician au #chasing stars

[thezeekrecord]

GAGEGN ch8

[index/summary]

REPORT: Regarding the housing arrangements of the "Science Team" and co.

Darnold wasn’t sure how the science team was able to just plunge themselves right back into action when they robbed several banks, and then the White House—he was perfectly comfortable staying behind, providing support through potions, intel, and organization. Darnold wasn’t even entirely sure how this all worked, though; clearly, for some reason, the strings of reality decided to drop them right back into another video game. A different one entirely, in fact. Darnold stayed in some headquarters they were provided, receiving all the cash they’d managed to grab and splitting it up evenly as best as he could as he waited for them to return. It was a nice, repetitive motion to keep him occupied while he tried not to panic about reality.

Eventually, though, after an incredibly close call, the group returned to what Darnold had come to understand as the “real world” with all the money they’d stolen. Darnold panicked about it at first—what sorts of strange consequences would come from them bringing video game objects into the real world? Exactly how punishable was it to claim video game money as real, if people found them out? But the rest of the Science Team—and also Benry now—insisted to Darnold again and again it would be alright, so he forced himself to relax, just revel in the amount of money he had now after that and all the settlement money.

Darnold was sat in a public library near his hotel, the amount of time Dr. Breen was willing to pay for the room quickly running low. Not that it was too much of an issue, Darnold reminded himself—he could renew the room himself if he wanted with all the money he had now, but in his irrational, anxiety-ridden brain, he’d begun to see it as a hard deadline to find his own permanent home. He scrolled through house listings on one of the computers there, the timer in the corner of the screen ticking lower and lower as his hour of computer time ran out. He had several numbers taken down to call later for house viewings, but god, even now that he could afford it, it was a massively stressful decision to be making. Darnold let out a deep sigh as his phone rumbled in his pocket, taking a brief break to flip his phone open and check his messages. TOMMY!!☆♥☆: hi darnold DARNOLD: hi! TOMMY!!☆♥☆: r u still looking for a house? DARNOLD: yeah :( are u? TOMMY!!☆♥☆: kinda TOMMY!!☆♥☆: i was wondering if u would wanna b roommates? TOMMY!!☆♥☆: we could split the cost and b in the same neighborhood as the rest of the science team TOMMY!!☆♥☆: i emailed u 1 of the house listings i saw :) TOMMY!!☆♥☆: only if ur ok with that of course!

Darnold tabbed over to his email and, sure enough, there was a new one from Tommy. He clicked the link, finding a nice, four bedroom/three bathroom house that was well within his price range, assuming he and Tommy split the cost evenly.

Darnold leaned back in his chair as he thought about it. It was a nice house, he assessed as he clicked through the provided photos. And if he was going to live with anyone from the Science Team (or Benry), he’d pick Tommy in a heartbeat. Did he want a roommate, though? He’d hated the idea of a roommate so deeply years ago, but...it was nice to be spending more time with people socially, actually; he’d still have his own space to isolate in if he needed, but Tommy would always be there, close by whenever he was lonely. An uncontrollable smile quickly spread across his face. That sounded really nice, actually. DARNOLD: thats a nice house! DARNOLD: i would love to check it out with u :) TOMMY!!☆♥☆: :D TOMMY!!☆♥☆: ok ill call for a showing then

It all moved so quickly from there. Tommy and Darnold went to the showing, weighed their options briefly, then split the cost of the house. They moved what few belongings they had after leaving everything but the clothes on their backs behind at Black Mesa—Darnold had bought a few sets of clothes to get him by while he lived in the hotel, and that was pretty much all he had to move—then rented a small moving van to make a trip for furniture. They had made a comprehensive, thorough list of things they would need that they followed religiously as they wandered through the massive store; furnishing an entire house from scratch was no laughing matter, unfortunately, but it wasn’t all stressful. He and Tommy had fun selecting their furniture, and were in the section for couches when they spotted a familiar face accompanied by a small child.

“Mr. Freeman!” Tommy exclaimed. He took Darnold by the wrist, Darnold’s face burning hot at the contact as he let Tommy drag him over to Gordon. “Are you buying furniture, too?”

“Oh, hey guys!” Gordon greeted with a smile, holding the child’s hand tightly as he tried to reach for a massive plush set out nearby. “Yeah, I figure I should replace some of my old shit, now that I can. That couch was getting pretty old.”

Tommy nodded knowingly. “Yeah, that’s a good move.”

“So, you guys are moving in together?” Gordon asked. The brief glance down at Tommy’s hand, fingers still wrapped loosely around Darnold’s wrist, was not lost on Darnold.

“Yup!” Tommy replied with a nod. “It’s gonna be really cool, living—being in the same neighborhood. It’ll be like the dorms, but nicer.”

Darnold chuckled at the memory of his old dorm. “Yeah. Much nicer.”

When the child tugged harder on Gordon’s hand, Gordon glanced down at him, smiling and scooping him up in his arms. “Oh! By the way. Darnold, this is my son, Joshua.”

Darnold grinned at Joshua, who didn’t look too interested in Darnold. “Hey, Joshua. I’m Darnold.”

Joshua only stared at Darnold briefly before turning to Tommy. “Where’s Sunkist?”

Tommy laughed. “Sorry, she’s at home.”

“Hey, actually, since we’re all here...” Gordon said, setting Joshua down and holding his hand again, “do you think we could help each other out with the furniture building and moving? I mostly just like, need someone to be able to keep an eye on Josh, but y’know, the arm might make it kinda hard on my end, too.”

Gordon held up his right hand to demonstrate. Darnold hadn’t even noticed at first, but the tubes were gone, and in their place was what looked like part of the glove and sleeve from the HEV suit. Looking a little closer, he noticed the ball joints on the fingers and wrist; so, it was a prosthetic. Darnold put his finger to his chin thoughtfully. The tubes had grown right out of his arm after the potion. Just how many times did this man lose his arm? He wondered if there was still metal inside his upper arm from the tubes, or if they’d been removed, somehow. When he was snapped out of his contemplation by Tommy squeezing his wrist, Gordon was giving him a slightly amused look. Darnold’s face flushed in embarrassment.

“Huh—uhh, sorry, I spaced out.” Darnold muttered.

“So, you wanna work together on moving in?” Gordon repeated.

“Oh! Yeah.” Darnold nodded. “Moving on your own is bad enough. I can’t imagine moving with a kid to watch, too.”

“Sunkist can keep an eye on him.” Tommy suggested helpfully.

“I...don’t know how qualified a dog is to watch my son, but y’know, I think we’ll manage.”

The three of them finished shopping, then headed back to their neighborhood. Gordon’s prosthetic wasn’t quite dexterous enough to perform many fine, precise movements required for building furniture, but he was able to hold things up for Tommy and Darnold and read out directions, at least. Joshua ended up quite occupied with Sunkist after all, making it easy for the three to focus more heavily on their work. It took a long time, but eventually, they were finished with all the biggest, most exhausting tasks, and they all sat together in Gordon’s newly-furnished living room, watching some old VHS of Babe: Pig in the City Gordon happened to own as they drank their choices of special beverages—Tommy and Gordon opting for cheap alcohol while Darnold had a hot chocolate. Joshua had already gone to bed by that point, leaving them in relatively peaceful silence—at least, until everything surrounding Darnold disappeared.

No, that wasn’t right, he could still feel the couch beneath him; but that didn’t stop panic from surging in his chest. Beside him, Gordon let out a shriek, and he could feel him lunging off the couch.

“M-Mr. Freeman, it’s okay! It’s just the power!” Tommy blurted out.

Darnold instinctively reached for Tommy, desperate to confirm he was still there. He squeezed his hand tightly, looking in his direction—finding that the contact wasn’t even necessary. As Darnold’s eyes still struggled to adjust to the darkness, all he could see was the bright, pale golden glow of Tommy’s irises. Tommy squeezed his hand back, still holding onto Darnold as he stood and reached out for Gordon.

“Mr. Freeman—” Tommy repeated.

“Fuck!” Gordon shouted, and Darnold could hear a loud, dull thud. “Don’t—don’t touch me!”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy said gently. “Are you okay?”

Darnold blinked a few times, finally able to make out the vague outline of Gordon on the floor. He curled in on himself as Tommy knelt down—still holding onto Darnold’s hand.

“I—fuck, I’m fine, just...” Gordon wheezed. “Just give me a second.”

Darnold jumped in surprise at the sound of the front door opening. Gordon yelped in shock, scrambling to his feet as a new figure entered the house.

“Gordon, it’s me.” Bubby announced flatly, joined by the distinctive figure of Dr. Coomer. “We just came over to check if your power’s out, too.”

Gordon wheezed again, clutching his chest and dropping heavily to the floor.

“Oh dear, Gordon, are you alright?” Dr. Coomer asked.

“Alright, you baby, give me a second.” Bubby huffed, feeling his way into the kitchen as Dr. Coomer headed carefully towards Gordon.

Once Dr. Coomer was by Gordon’s side, Darnold saw Tommy’s eyes turn back towards him, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

“I-I’m fine.” Darnold said. It was true—now that his eyes were adjusting, his anxiety was starting to ease up a little bit. “Thanks, Tommy.”

Bubby returned shortly after with a source of light—a wooden spoon set on fire. Despite the blatant disrespect for Gordon’s belongings, he visibly relaxed now that he could see, burying his face in his left hand.

“Would you like me to calm you with my sweet voice?” Dr. Coomer suggested.

“God, no, no sweet voice shit.” Gordon grumbled. “I’m fine, seriously, just—you can ignore me.”

“You look very not fine, Gordon.” Bubby commented flatly.

“Yes, Gordon, I think—” Dr. Coomer started.

“I’m fucking serious! Just back off!” Gordon snapped. After a brief, shocked silence, he let out a shaky breath. “...Please.”

“I-I’m sorry, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer said, standing up and stepping back to give Gordon space.

“I’m gonna go check on Josh.” Gordon said quietly, taking the flaming spoon from Bubby. Gordon disappeared up the stairs, and everyone was quiet enough to hear the quiet creaking of a door opening.

“Yeesh.” Bubby whispered.

“We should, um, pick up some flashlights, sometime.” Darnold commented, if only to fill the awkward silence.

Eventually, Dr. Coomer began talking about some travel plans he’d made with Bubby for a little bit before Gordon returned with the still-flaming wooden spoon, an exhausted look in his eyes. He sat back down, pushing his hair that had fallen out of his ponytail behind his ear.

“Umm...sorry about yelling.” Gordon said awkwardly.

“That’s alright, Gordon.” Dr. Coomer replied in a friendly tone. “I’m certain the lights will be back on in no time.”

As if on cue, the lights flickered back on around them, rendering the flaming spoon useless.

“Ayyy, you were right.” Gordon said, his voice much more relaxed, now. “You guys wanna—”

Gordon stopped, a slack-jawed look of disbelief quickly spreading on his face. Darnold looked curiously at him, then followed his gaze past Dr. Coomer and Bubby. At the other end of the living room sat Benry, sitting in a folding metal chair Darnold didn’t recognize. He was wearing brand new pajamas underneath a hoodie—the tags still attached and everything—and a blue hunter’s hat lined with fur in place of his security uniform and helmet, looking back at everyone casually.

“Yo.” He greeted.

The room was eerily silent for a long moment before Gordon stood.

“Benry, get the fuck out of my house.” He said sternly through gritted teeth.

“Awww, man, but we’re all hangin’ out, you want me to miss that?” Benry questioned in heavy disappointment.

“Yes! Get out!” Gordon shouted.

“I think you gotta calm down, bro.” Benry mumbled, pulling out a Gameboy and turning it on.

Gordon stomped towards Benry, flaming spoon still gripped firmly in his hand. “Benry, if you don’t get the fuck out of my house, I—”

“Mr. Freeman, hold on!” Tommy suddenly exclaimed, pulling away from Darnold’s hand and catching up to Gordon. He gave him a long, concerned look before turning to Benry. “Umm—do you wanna come to me and Darnold’s house?”

Benry shrugged, stuffing the Gameboy in his pocket and picking up his metal chair, squeaking obnoxiously as he pushed it closed. Darnold stood as well, casting an awkward glance at the rest of the Science Team as he prepared to leave with Tommy.

“Goodnight, Mr. Freeman.” Tommy said as he turned to follow Benry towards the front door.

Gordon frowned, a deeply conflicted look on his face. “...Night.”

[previous | next]

[albionscastle]

We’ll Meet Again. Pt.2 (Collins Fic)

I actually have part 3 written already which will probably be posted later tonight.  I’ve been reading a lot of first hand accounts of the Blitz, my great nana was there for it and my great uncle was an RAF pilot so I’m interweaving some of their experiences into the narrative. I gave Collins the first name Jack...you know why. I was thinking this was originally going to be only a 3 or 4 part, but its looking like closer to 6, I keep coming up with new ideas. Hopefully I can keep them coming pretty regularly as long as R/L doesn’t interfere too much.

Anyway I made this chapter fairly happy because the next two are going to be pretty bad.

FIC MASTERLIST

Part 1 Here

After the war was over they would call it ‘The Blitz’, the incessant day and night bombings carried out over Britain by Hitler’s Luftwaffe. It seemed as though the sirens were constantly shrieking and the sickening dread had cast a pall over the city of London. In the five days since the attacks had begun on the cities there had been nothing but fear, screaming and the constant smell of burning buildings.

You and the others had ceased going to the Underground shelter, more than half your time was spent in the basement of the boarding house or the shelter near the factory. There had been talk of a Tube station being flooded during a bombing and everyone in there drowning. You would take your chances with a collapsed building. None of you had slept in your beds since that first night, even though, so far, nothing had fallen close to your neighbourhood. The factory was a target you knew, you manufactured munitions for the army. It was really only a matter of time.

Every day there were fighter planes in formation over the city, reports of aerial battles taking place all over. There had been heavy bombing of RAF stations in August which had left you worried sick for Collins until every letter arrived announcing him unharmed. Often while you were outside, you saw Spitfires flying over and waved, wondering if he was in one of them. His last letter had arrived the day the bombings started so you knew at least he’d not been a casualty of the most recent base attacks.

He was right in the thick of it from what you’d read, out there somewhere risking his life, fighting for it and all you could do was keep writing, keep hoping and keep checking the casualty lists. Every day that he wasn’t listed was another day that you could breathe.

You never went anywhere without his letters, or the portrait he had sent at your request. Your fingers would constantly brush over his face, the black and white doing no justice to the brightness of his eyes or the gilded glow of his hair. The tight fear in your chest was with you constantly now.

Margot had nailed you. Attached you certainly were, more than that if you were honest with yourself. While you may have cared for him in a friendly way when you’d met (ignoring the spark of attraction you’d felt as soon as he’d turned that smile on you), his letters had brought you so much further. The unwritten rule that you tried to keep things hopeful infused both of your letters. He knew all about your friends, your work and even the fact that the boardinghouse girls routinely walloped the older men in street cricket. He wrote to you of food fights in the canteen, of a young officer who’d disappeared from base, only to be discovered shacked up with a Commander’s daughter in Brighton. And because he knew he could, he would tell you when one of his squadron didn’t come home, or the fear he felt whenever he flew and the desperate desire to just make it home.

In the three months since your first letter there had developed an intensity to your letters and to the things you both wrote. There was a deep understanding of one another and an overwhelming desire to know everything you could. Somehow he had wedged his way firmly into your heart with his honesty, charm and humor.

But now for five days there had been nothing, not a word. Despite not seeing him listed as a casualty you couldn’t hold down the fear. He could have gone down in the Channel again, or over Germany. He could have been captured, or just be missing. You weren’t family so no one would even know to notify you if something had happened to him.

Not knowing was killing you.

You still wrote to him as promised, every other day and you would never stop, not until you knew for sure. Today, September 14th, your letter would be all about Violet’s wedding. Her beau was home on leave and they didn’t want to wait, they would get married in the basement if they had to. It was hard to plan anything special between the bombs and the ever stricter rationing, but everyone had pulled together for the young couple and it promised to be a beautiful day.

“Y/N! Hurry up, it's time to go.”

Margot, Dolores and Della all stood at the foot of the stairs and you joined them, waiting for Vi to make her appearance. Each of you wore your prettiest day dress from before the war, a strange feeling after so long with nothing to celebrate. Della had visited her kids and brought back armfuls of wildflowers and you had all woven in your hair and fashioned into a bridal bouquet.

The pall that seemed to hang in the air lifted as soon as Vi emerged at the top of the stairs.

A chorus of appreciative oohs and ahhs accompanied the pretty girl’s descent. You all agreed that there had never in history been a more beautiful bride. She wore Della’s wedding dress, cream silk flowing to the floor, covered in part by Dolores’ veil which fluttered around her head like a halo. A new gown could not have looked or felt any more perfect.

“Ladies, if you please.” A photographer from the paper stood nearby, Margot having convinced him to document the day. He was sweet on her and hopeful that as time went on she might look back at him. Despite her continuing grief you had begun to think there might be hope for them in the end. Every little piece of happiness counted.

You all walked Vi to the church down the street, eyes watering as passersby cheered at the procession and began to follow. Despite everything, all the death and fear, a swell of hope permeated the warm air and you allowed it to fill you. There was no room for unhappiness today, and for the people around you, not a million German bombs could take that hope away.

Vi’s beau, a gawky lad of 23 with thick black hair and a slight stutter wept openly as his stunning bride walked up the aisle along with most of the neighbourhood, filling the little stone building. Within moments you gave up trying to wipe away the tears and just smiled through them, holding Margot’s hand as thoughts of your own men flitted through your minds.

Your breath caught when you rose to exit the church, as Collin’s face, smiling in the dawn light that day in June lurched into your head.

“He’s fine Y/N. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Margot squeezed your hand, the sadness in her eyes almost breaking your heart.

What if he wasn’t? What if you had just been smiling while he was being shot down? What if he was dead? How could you ever even fathom the thought of getting over him?

Lifting your face to the sunlight as you stood at the top of the church stairs, you sent out the wish that Margot was right. You didn’t pray, you never had, but if there was a higher power out there you wanted to hedge your bets.

“Please, please just keep him safe.”

Dolores stepped over, wrapping an arm around your waist, followed by the others until all five of you stood in a huddle, heads together, drawing strength from one another and giving comfort where there was none other to be had.

“Well I’ll be God damned.” Margot suddenly laughed.

She gently grasped your shoulders, turning you until you faced the bottom of the steps, the gasps of the others following you as all eyes fell on the man standing there, resplendent in RAF blue and sporting a smile that could melt a glacier.

“Collins!” you cried out as you launched yourself down the stairs and into his outstretched arms.

He held you, hoisted in the air, face in your neck as you squeezed him, the wool of his blazer rough under your bare arms. Part of you thought he was an hallucination, no matter how tight his arms felt around you.

He didn’t put you down when he pulled his head back to look at you.

“Well now I wasnae expectin such an enthusiastic greetin lass.” he laughed.

You slipped down, feet firmly on the ground, hands roaming over his shoulders and arms, making sure he was real.

“You’re ok, you’re ok.” you whispered over and over, your heart bursting with joy.

When you finally looked up at him you saw his look of concern, followed by understanding.

“Ah lass, I’m sorry. I’m fine.” he sighed pulling you in, your head resting over his heart as he wrapped himself around you.

“What happened to you? I was so worried?”

“I couldna get a letter to ye, they started bombing the cities so quickly, everything happened so fast. If we aren’t flyin we’re sleepin, on and on fer a week or more, then they let us have some down time. I asked fer leave tae come see ye.”

“How long?”

“I have tae be back on base by midnight, so six hours. Some mates went out on the town fer the day, they’ll swing by fer me later.” You nodded, the breath that you had been holding for the last five days whooshing out of your body. You would take 6 hours over nothing, any day.

“I guess you just got invited to a wedding, then.”

“Wouldna miss it fer the world.” he hugged you again, lips pressing against your forehead. “I got yer letters last night, but I didna get a chance tae read em.”

“Read them later. Come and meet everyone.”

He was a hit with your friends, with everyone in fact and you found you couldn’t get your eyes off him for a moment. Not that he ever went far from your side.

The entire neighbourhood had banded together for the newlyweds and the small park behind the houses had been festooned with wildflowers, Union Jacks and a hodge podge of items from everyone’s homes. Each neighbour brought a dish to a makeshift trestle table and it was a veritable wartime feast. A violin, drum and some brass had been pulled out and a group of older men were playing music for people to dance.

It was, for one day, as though there wasn’t even a war. Even the Germans refrained from their bombing runs and you could almost forget the threat of invasion, as long as you ignored the flyovers and barrage balloons. Being the only man over 16 and under 60 and not a new husband, Collins was much sought after as a dance partner and he squired every woman who asked. There was nothing in that park but laughter and love, and the kind of hope that wars were won on.

Margot came to sit beside you, stealing an oatcake as you both watched Collins lead your 74 year old landlady in a perfect waltz.

“I have to admit, he’s something.”

“It's the accent.” you quipped, smiling when he waved in your direction.

“Partly, and it obviously has nothing to do with that gorgeous face, that smile or that charm. And don’t even get me started on the rest of him.”

You blushed as Margot elbowed you gently in the side.

“Oh come on Y/N, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it, because I know you’d be lying.”

“It's only the second time I've ever met him.”

“And? I knew the first time I met Charlie, that was all it took for me.”

“Did you…..you know, ever…?”

“Oh yes, and let me tell you something, I don’t regret it, not for a moment. We were going to be married when he was next on leave so I didn’t care. Now, no matter how my life goes, I’ll always have those moments with him, I’ll always know that I was loved, and that he died knowing he was too.”

“It's just, I’ve never.”

“Neither had I. You’ll know if it's right, and if it is, don’t hold anything back. No regrets.”

“No regrets ‘bout wha?” Collins stood in front of you, a little out of breath, his jacket over his arm. He motioned for you to stand, which you did, allowing him to slide onto your chair and pull you down to sit across his lap.

“We were just talking about the happy couple.” Margot smiled, winking at you.

“Ther’ a lovely pair.” he took a bite from the biscuit you held in your fingers, laughing when you narrowed your eyes at him. “Wha? They dinnae feed me at the base, no like this, I’m fair tae wastin away.”

He tried to look innocent, which lasted about as long as you could manage to hold back your laughter. His arms slid around your waist, head resting against your shoulder. You gave into the temptation and brushed your cheek against the top of his head, his thick hair soft against your skin.

If you could have stayed like that forever you would have. There was nothing but contentment to be found with him and you understood everything that Margot had been saying. He was the one, and there was never going to be another.

Afternoon started to blend with evening and the party continued, you danced with Collins until your feet ached and you couldn’t breathe from laughing. Your heart soared with happiness and you tingled all over every time he touched you. Finally, as night began to fall he looked at his watch and sighed.

“They’ll be comin fer me in a few minutes. Le’s take a walk.”

His fingers threaded through yours, his hand so big, engulfing you completely.

“I’ll no get leave again till after the next round, so abou’ three weeks. And I’ll no be able tae write much while we’re flyin, but I’ll let them know tae contact ye if something happens.”

“Don’t think like that, you’ll be fine, just you wait and see.”

He nodded, though both of you knew that the chances were fairly high that he wouldn’t make it in the end. You weren’t going to allow those thoughts to ruin your last precious moments together.

You stopped, tugging his hand until he faced you. Stepping closer, you brought your hand up to his face, fingers tracing his rough jawline and cheek before sliding down to his neck. Standing up on your toes, you pressed against him, brushing your lips over his, feather light and questioning.

With a groan, Collins pulled you up against him, his mouth colliding with yours, teeth scraping against your lips. Need radiated from you both, the need to be closer, the need to cling to this feeling of being alive. Your fingers threaded into your hair as you tried to hold him to you.

The honking of a horn startled you, and with one last swipe of his lips across yours, Collins pulled away, his hands still splayed across the small of your back. His forehead rested against yours as you both panted and tried to catch your breath.

“I wish you didn’t have to go Jack.” you whispered, cupping his face in your hands.

“I was wonderin if ye were ever gonna say mae name. I don’ want tae leave ye. Next time though I’m due a few days, and I’ll be wantin tae spend every second wi’ ye.”

You nodded, blinking back tears, not wanting to let him go. He was living, breathing and warm in front of you, how were you supposed to send him back to war?

“Collins! Let’s go!”

“Oh leave off, lemme say goodbye tae me girl would ye?”

You both chuckled, lips brushing again. Jack pulled you into a bear hug, lifting you off the ground. His fingers brushed over your hair, pulling free one of the flowers.

“I’ll be seein ye lass. Write tae me tonight, tell me about today.”

“I will, and I’ll see you soon.”

He kissed you one last time and stepped away, taking that warmth and life with him. Walking backward to the car, Jack lifted the flower to his lips, smiling and enjoying the slaps on the back his buddies were giving him.

You stood and watched until the car disappeared, the air chilly as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to retain his warmth. In time you wandered back to the park where things were winding down, the bride and groom having disappeared into the house already. The older ladies waved you away when you tried to help, insisting you girls had done enough.

Jack had left his blazer behind, draped across the back of the chair you had both occupied. You placed it over your shoulders, running your fingers over the wool and the small brass plate engraved with his last name. For a long time after you finished writing his letter you sat, tracing the letters over and over before finally wrapping yourself in it, inhaling his smell and drifting off to sleep dreaming of him.

#dunkirk #dunkirk fanfiction #dunkirk collins #Collins is everything #collins fanfiction #jack lowden #jack lowden fanfiction #collins x reader #jack lowden x reader

[quarantineculture]

quarantine day 3

Quarantine day 3

Friday, March 20, 2020.

It’s technically 2:08 AM on Saturday now, but since I haven’t gone to bed yet, again, still technically Friday night to me. I’ve been staying up later.

I think it’s starting to hit me a little more now.

It was kinda fun the first day or two. After I got past the no senior year and no graduation, I adjusted pretty fast to my new cellar dweller life. It isn’t all bad. My family is upstairs and I can hear them walking around and talking and they yell at me and FaceTime me throughout the day, so it’s not as lonely as it is for my friend who’s in a summer house all by herself. I’m glad I’m here and not in an apartment all alone because then I think I’d really go crazy.

At noon (I think?) Governor Cuomo was doing a live press conference. He announced they’re shutting down all non-essential businesses in New York State. I wasn’t surprised, but I was still kinda sad, just in terms of the ramifications for people directly and indirectly affected. This is shit for the economy in general, but I can’t even imagine what it’s like for people that work in “non-essential” businesses – that are essential for their own survival. I know Trump says he’s gonna send checks and stuff, but I don’t know how that’ll work. I really know very little about money and economy stuff (I took AP Macroeconomics and I think I pulled a 5 while knowing… jack shit), but based on my (VERY) limited knowledge, couldn’t that cause inflation? Like, where’s all this money coming from? Wouldn’t it start to lose money if we just print a bunch of new cash? I have no clue. This is why I don’t work in politics or business or economics.

I also found out Connecticut is also closing all non-essential businesses. For some reason, liquor stores and mega defense companies like Sikorsky and Pratt & Whitney (I don’t remember which is which, but I know some make helicopters and others manufacture guns/weapons) are considered essential. I kinda get the alcohol – what else are people gonna do for fun or to relax in their homes when we’re kinda-not-really being put on lockdown – but the weapons companies? I don’t really get how that’s considered essential, other than essential for the economy since they employ so many people.

Today I went to the park, but this time I wanted to go with my sisters. I ended up going ahead because it was so nice out and they were taking F O R E V E R finishing homework. Hannah looked at my location and they eventually found me but thought I was Mom at first. I looked at Mom’s location to try to avoid running into her so she and Dad wouldn’t know that I’d met up with Hannah and Mandi. It backfired because by the time I realized my parents were getting close they’d already spotted us and were running toward us. We spent the next 10 minutes running around trying to lose my parents. I felt like Pac-Man, and my parents were the ghosts. It was ridiculous. Every time I turned around, there they were! Still following us!

It just kinda sucked because I just wanted to talk to my sisters in person but my parents apparently (clearly) didn’t trust us to stay 6 feet apart. I never touched them or went too close. We kept a distance away. I’m completely asymptomatic. I have no coughing, sneezing, rhinorrhea, fever, shortness of breath, or any other symptoms. I just get cold in the basement because it’s cold down here. That’s it. I just don’t like being treated like I’m dirty or contagious, although I guess theoretically I could be highly contagious. I mean. I know that I could be contagious despite being asymptomatic. I just don’t see how I could spread it to someone if I don’t touch them and don’t have any body fluids going anywhere near them and I’m not coughing or sneezing or dripping mucus. I’m just a sad boi and want to hang out with my siblings.

On the bright side – it was absolutely GORGEOUS out today! It’s been kinda cold and windy and grey for the past two days but I was enjoying just getting out of the house and seeing the wildlife and other human beings in person even if I don’t know who they are. But today – WOW! It was so nice. Here’s a pic. I was just thinking about how ugly the city can be sometimes but turns out it’s just the grey weather that made it look ugly! A little sunshine and blue skies can do absolute wonders for how it looks.

I think it looks extra nice here because the blue skies kinda match the blue of that house in the middle. It’s just very satisfying to me. Even with the bare trees! Lovely! You really have to appreciate the little things. Sometimes, it’s all we really have. Especially in times like these.

Anyways. I found out some darker news tonight. [content warning for mentions of hospitalization & death] I don’t know them personally, but my mom knows someone whose family member got diagnosed with covid a few days ago. He has not been in good condition, unconscious within a day of being admitted to the hospital, and today he passed away. My mom says he was pretty young – only 51, her age – and healthy too. He jogged every day. (I felt bad because I don’t even jog every day, or every month, and I’m 21.) But somehow he died within a couple days of getting diagnosed. It kinda fucked with my head because it goes against the whole “it’s only really risky for seniors and people who are immunocompromised” narrative. I mean, I don’t know if he was immunocompromised or not; it’s certainly possible. But from what I’ve been told he was generally healthy and still fairly young.

So I guess I’m just re-thinking the risks and what this all means. His kids are teenagers. He’s the exact same age as my mom. Obviously not everyone (and most people) who get the virus are going to die, but it doesn’t negate the fact that a good number of people will.

I will be honest – I really didn’t take it seriously at first, particularly when it was mostly located in China. I mean, I didn’t really expect that what has happened would happen. I don’t think anyone did. I work(/ed) in an emergency department, and most of the doctors there brushed off the coronavirus buzz as hysteria. They compared it to the flu and pointed out that tens of thousands of people die of flu every year and no one shuts everything down or hoards toilet paper. Hell, lots of people don’t even get flu shots (which you should, by the way, PLEASE GET YOUR FLU SHOT, they’re still available and still helpful and pretty cheap if not free!) But this is different, I guess, because the death rate is apparently several times higher than that of flu, and we just don’t have a vaccine or enough beds to treat people if the cases skyrocket, which is very possible given how quickly it’s spreading and how many people are carriers without realizing it.

I’m not entirely sure where I was going with this, other than I’m a little more scared now. Especially with what’s happening in Italy. Doctors should not have to be choosing which patients get ventilators and which ones die. A lot of Italian people are warning us Americans that we’re next. Even my mom says the US is just not prepared for this.

I can’t predict the future. All I can say is, please wash your hands, cover your mouth, stay inside and practice social distancing – not just for yourself, but for other people. This situation sucks. It really does suck and we don’t know when it’s going to end. But people have gone through so much worse and survived and thrived because of how resilient humans are by nature. We can all save lives just by staying at home for this period of time. We’re going to get through this. Keep your chin up and be kind. Remind the people you love that you love them. It’ll be okay.

THINGS I AM GRATEFUL FOR:

Warmer weather! Sun and blue skies! Not having to wear gloves or a jacket to go out! People playing tennis. Watching my sisters dance and do Chinese yoyo tricks that I wish I could do. The weird rice krispy/graham cracker marshmallow chocolate concoction they made for me. Peanut butter. Cute dogs. FaceTiming my friends from school. Texting people that I haven’t talked to in a long time.

QUARANTINE BY THE NUMBERS:

Time outside basement: approx. 1 – 1.5 hours

Pokemon Shield: approx. 1.5 hours

Breath of the Wild: approx. 2 – 2.5 hours

Toggl-logged time working on endocrinology lectures: 1 hour 15 minutes

Toggl-logged time working on day 2 blog: 53 minutes

Lying in bed absentmindedly with no real productivity: unable to obtain accurate data but subjectively noted to be considerably more than previous days

Shower time: 9 minutes

Screen time on phone: 8 hours 12 minutes (to be fair, probably 4 of those hours were FaceTime.)

Frustration about crocheting: approx. 2 minutes

Actual crocheting: 0 minutes (I just thought about it briefly and was sad.)

Turtles spotted: none because as soon as we reached the lake I saw dad and started running the opposite way

#covid19 #coronavirus #quarantine #quarantine blogging

[andyandjulietbiersacklovers-blog]

POZ Interview: Juliet Simms + Andy Biersack 

Posted July 22, 2013  

Senior Writer Jesse Richman sat down with Juliet Simms and Andy Biersack (Black Veil Brides) at Warped Tour a week or so ago for an incredibly in-depth interview. We spoke with Simms and Biersack about Warped Tour, The Voice, each of their careers in the music industry, the future for both, and so much more. Check out one of the most in-depthi interviews we’ve ever done on PropertyOfZack below!

How are you guys doing? Andy: I’m good. Juliet: I’m good. Definitely warped. I caught your set this afternoon, Juliet. First of all, it sounded great and the crowd seemed to be into it. How are you feeling about these dates? Juliet: Honestly, it was unexpected to arrive on this tour and have such an incredible response. I only came out here with a guitarist. Thankfully, Black Veil Brides have been more than accommodating and Warped Tour has been so accommodating in helping me so much. It’s been pretty crazy. POZ: I can only imagine! Juliet: Keep-A-Breast has been amazing too. As you mentioned on stage, today is your and Andy’s anniversary – you met here at the Long Island Warped Tour two years ago? Andy: We didn’t meet, but we officially started dating here. We’d been hanging out for a couple weeks at that point, but I guess we officially decided to call it what it is is here. Juliet: Yeah, we’re in love, and he… POZ: Was there any great romantic story to that? Juliet: There’s a couple! We were walking through bus world, and that’s where we screamed at the sky, like, “I love Andy” and “I love Juliet.” Andy: I was screaming that I love Andy. She was a little upset [Laughs]. Juliet: That’s where we “officiated” everything. Is it tough, with both of you being so in the middle of big points in your careers right now, to find the time? Andy: Yeah, but in a situation like this, it’s so nice to be on the same tour. Most of the year we don’t get to spend as much time together as we’d like to, because of tours and schedules. But actually, every tour that she’s done since The Voice I’ve been on. I just go out with her. On the last one I helped, I co-tour managed. POZ: Do you schedule it around each other? Andy: You can’t really. Black Veil is on tour like eight months out of the year. It’s hard, but fortunately the one time she had a long run I came out. Juliet: He’s being too humble. He’s been incredible. Seriously, he’s been helping me a lot with management, promotion, and anything I need to do, from “what shirt should we make?” to “this song” or “that set,” and setting up things for shows. He came out and was on tour with me in a van! No laying down or anything, and just helping me with everything. Andy: I get up every morning at the buttcrack of dawn and help her set up her merch, and… Juliet: Even on Warped Tour, where this amazing rockstar should be sleeping in bed until 3PM, he’s getting up in the morning and carrying things, finding people with me, helping out with street teamers, and doing everything with me. It’s absolutely incredible how much he’s been helping me. Andy: It’s not her fault, but there’s nobody stepping up to do it. She’s had a lot of mismanagement – people who have, in my opinion, not been there when needed over here career, so… POZ: I feel like that’s been a story since going back to the Automatic Loveletter days. Juliet: It’s an ongoing theme for sure, but the struggle, and the fight, and the working this hard is just going to make for a good story. Initially, you were only going to do a short run on Warped Tour. But you recently announced that you’ll be doing the full tour. Juliet: What happened was that I went and visited Andy during the California dates. And I basically just went up to Kevin [Lyman] and was like… It takes a lot of money to be on this tour, and I didn’t have the funds to be on it with a full band. So I told Kevin. Kevin has become… He’s family. Like he’s my uncle. He discovered me. He really was just like, “you’re going to be on here acoustic, you’re going to be on here for the full thing.” You’ve done Warped as a full band tour with Automatic Loveletter. Is it strange being up there solo instead of with a band? Absolutely not. Dave, my guitarist, has been incredible. He’s such a big help. Being up there is all about just connecting with the crowd, connecting with fans, giving your message, and it’s being received really well. Is Automatic Loveletter still a thing? Juliet: It’s completely not over. To be completely honest, Automatic Loveletter was me. I wrote every song. The reason that it’s Juliet Simms now is because I’m on the show [The Voice]. Andy: It’s called Semi-Automatic Loveletter now. [laughs] Juliet: What he said. [laughs] Ok, so let’s talk about that – you were on The Voice. One thing that we’ve seen a lot of over the past few years is people from the Warped Tour scene going onto The Voice. It seems like a lot are going there to try to escape from this world, to get into more mainstream territory, more radio territory. Juliet: Why? POZ: Well that’s what I was going to ask about! You’re back here on Warped, so that doesn’t seem to be your agenda. Juliet: I don’t have the mentality that The Voice is bigger than Warped Tour. I think that Warped Tour is such a great tour. Who wouldn’t kill to be on it? And that’s what I’ve been doing. Every day we wake up at 7:30am and we bust our asses because, shit man, you’re reaching so many people when you’re on this tour! Andy: It’s one of those things, you know? She went on a tour with an artist she had toured with in the past, and the tour was very poorly promoted. Most of her fans didn’t even know she was in the cities she was in. It was a poorly attended tour. This is a situation where her fans know that she’s here and she’s already at the show. They can walk up and go see their favorite singer. It’s a great situation for any band, and especially an artist that has some sort of appeal or has done something commercially. Are you seeing folks coming out to see you at Warped who clearly know you from The Voice and have never been to Warped Tour? Juliet: Definitely, for sure. I’ve totally seen that. POZ: I imagine they stick out like a sore thumb. Juliet: It’s crazy! I’ll see… Andy: They only know “Roxanne!” Juliet: Yeah! They start screaming when I sing “Roxanne” or “Man’s World.” I’ll see a 17 year old girl who knew me from Automatic Loveletter, but then I’ll also see people in their 50’s! Like screaming and stuff! They obviously saw me from the show. It’s crazy. Andy: It’s an interesting dynamic to observe. So many of the stagehands and people who work on my stage all have a different perspective on her; like “oh, my wife loves you from the show.” For somebody who’s been on Warped Tour for a hundred years to now be like “I watched you at home while you were on my TV.” Television has such an interesting impact. People feel like they know you more when you’re on TV, when you’re on a highly rated television show for a year almost… POZ: You’re in their living room every week. Andy: There are more people that say, “My wife said to say hello.” She doesn’t fuckin’ know their wife! But everybody thinks… It’s nice, because she’s such an amicable person anyway. Is it hard for you? Do you feel like you’re playing to two different audiences at once? Juliet: No, I mean… Honestly, when I’m performing I’m in my own world. When I’m performing to kids, people, grownups, or whatever; everyone has been there and everybody has the same things in their minds. It’s like we’re all one. When I’m performing or doing whatever I’m doing with an audience, I kind of just feel like “we are who we are, let’s all connect and be one right now.” Does performing feel different post-Voice than it did before? Juliet: Definitely! I would definitely say because of The Voice I’ve found my voice. Not to say that I didn’t know who I was in previous tours, but I just feel like this is who I am now. You’ve got your first single out from the post-Voice era called “Wild Child.” Can you talk about the song and how it came about? Juliet: The song was very much inspired by the fact that I’d have fans come to me in person or through Facebook, Twitter, fan letters, all of that, and I’d read them. Right now it’s such a controversial time right now – there’s bullying. People are weird, there are freaks and there are dorks and there are losers and that’s fucking awesome. It makes them different. It’s about you being confident about yourself and saying “fuck you” to the world and that this is who I am and I’m going to represent myself. That’s what that song is about. POZ: That sounds a lot like what Black Veil Brides have been singing about for a few years. Is that part of your bond? Juliet: Definitely. Andy has inspired me so, so much. I feel like one of the reasons why we’ve connected so much is that we have a lot of the same mentality. It just worked out perfectly. Andy: Plus I like her hair. POZ: It’s a new look! [Simms recently chopped off her lengthy tresses in favor of a bleach-blonde pixie cut]. Juliet: It’s a new look. It’s a “I don’t give a shit! I’m going to fucking take a shower and be done with it!” Andy: Good for Warped Tour. On The Voice you were coached by Cee-Lo Green and you’ve continued working with him afterwards. Can you talk a bit about what you guys are up to? Juliet: I performed with him a couple weeks ago on his new single. He’s definitely taken a good role in helping me creatively and talking about me in interviews. He’s been such a huge supporter. I’m sure we’ll be doing something together in the near future. You’ve got the one single out. What else is coming? Is there an album in the works? Juliet: Honestly, what’s happening right now is, I’m in negotiations with Universal Records. And whether or not we do an album together, I’m going to be… if it’s a Kickstarter, or if it’s another label… POZ: Do they have you locked into something through The Voice? Andy: They have an option. The single was released through a contractual option. The rest of it is up to whether they want to make a record or not. Juliet: And it doesn’t matter either way. I have so many studios, so many friends, so many musicians… I am going to get an album done this year for sure and out. POZ: Have you been writing in the meantime? Andy: She has, like, 100 songs. Juliet: So much. On The Voice, it seemed like you sang a lot of classic rock material, which is a different direction from your earlier work. Is that indicative of where the writing for the album is going? Juliet: Yes. On the show, I wanted to do something different that people haven’t done on singing shows before. And I feel like I did that. POZ: You definitely didn’t go the typical ballad, big singer route. You went the rock n’ roll route. Juliet: I wanted to sing songs that inspired me throughout my career and inspired me to sing and be in a band. I feel like that connected a lot. That’s why I got so far in the competition. I feel like what’s missing today in music is that kind of sound, that kind of music, and that kind of rock star. Where are our Debbie Harrys and Joan Jetts and Fiona Apples and Janice Joplins? Where are they? POZ: Are you concerned that maybe there’s not room for that kind of person in the musical world right now? Juliet: Oh not at all! I think there’s totally room. I think there’s one spot available, and it’s mine! And if I do what I did on the show in my own music, I feel like that will connect with my audience, because there’s a demand for it and it’s missing. And it needs to be there. One other thing I wanted to quickly ask you about. You have a bracelet company called Never Take It Off. Can you tell me how that came to be? Juliet: What’s really great about the company is that it started on 2011 on Warped Tour; it started with the record I released, The Kids Will Take Their Monsters On. And it’s all about making vows and promises – to yourself, or to somebody else. If you think about a friendship bracelet, it’s kind of like that. Andy: It’s a vow. She was talking about the concept behind her music and everything of kids fitting it, and having something they’re getting over or whatever… It’s vows. “I’m going to stop doing this thing that’s harmful to myself,” or “I’m going to be more outgoing” or “I’m going to do these things.” The bracelets all represent different vows. The kids get them and they put them on. [Points to wrist] That red one has been on me for three years. It’s a vow to yourself. Never Take It Off. I like it a lot. I got involved. I now have a line within it. Juliet: Andy is actually the first official, like, “Never Take It Off by Andy Biersack.” Andy: People tie things around their finger, to remember a date. It’s essentially the same concept, you know? Juliet: He designed his line, did came up with the names of the vows and bracelets, and necklaces. It’s really cool. So Andy, while I’ve got you here, do you mind if I ask you a couple questions? Andy: Alright. How are Black Veil Brides doing this year? You’ve done Warped before. Andy: It’s very different to be one of the headlining bands on the tour and to have that situation is very humbling. I went to Warped Tour every single year growing up and I got to see Dropkick Murphys, Rancid, and AFI and all my favorite bands that I’d stand and watch. I dunno, it’s cool to play on it. I say it on stage every day and I mean it: It really is an honor. All of the macho swagger of everyone being on stage, all the “get the fuck up” and shit, it’s fine. We all do it. But the one thing that should be said by every band – and I think most bands do – is that it is truly an honor  for anyone to be involved in this. It’s the 19th year of this. For any of our bands that are stylistically a departure from the core of bands the tour started with, like NOFX playing in front of a lake and trees, for us to be accepted onto something like this, and to be the people that are carrying the flag on Kevin’s tour, is a huge honor. The reception to us has been insane as well. I didn’t know what to expect. Going into the last Warped Tour we did, we just put out our first major label album. Our touring numbers were solid at clubs, but we hadn’t played big stages or whatver. We did pretty well, but this year is a whole different ball game. It’s crazy to see the number of people out there. You mentioned that you guys aren’t exactly where the tour started out. One thing I’ve noticed this year is that it seems like a very fractured tour. There are a lot of little scenes, but not one overriding scene anymore. And of all those little scenes, the biggest one is metal – whether it’s metalcore, or whatever little gradations you want to put on the term. Why do you think metal has become such a strong part of what started as a punk rock thing? Andy: You know, there are different divisions of punk rock, and people who believe “only this is punk rock” and “only this is punk rock.” And within that, bands started to tread that line. You go back even to the 80’s, when the glam rock stuff was going on, and that was “heavy metal.” These bands like GBH, all these bands that were teasing up their hair and doing glam rock albums, like TSOL that cross that line. You have these punk rock bands that crossed that line way back then. POZ: And then you could look at a band like Crüe or early Van Halen, they were coming out of that punk tradition as much as metal. Andy: Exactly. I think it dates back to a point even then that it’s such a crossover, that young fans don’t even know what a band like The Dead Boys or The Damned is, and they don’t know that Black Veil Brides is heavily influenced by that stuff. But they do know what Metallica is though, so they can associate with that part of our influence. A band like Bring Me The Horizon, they have a mosh-metal feeling to them. They’re very energetic on stage. There are always elements of punk rock in the whole festival, it’s just sometimes people can’t see it that way. And then the one thing that’s kept on, that I think is amazing, is ska has also had a very long history on this tour. With Reel Big Fish and Goldfinger and some smaller stage bands, there’s a lot of ska on this tour, and that hasn’t been around in a while. Maybe that’ll make a resurgence. POZ: Maybe it’s time for the fourth wave of ska! Andy: Yeah exactly! The new wave! Mosh ska. We’ll have kids with swoopy bands doing upstroke ska. [Laughs] I think there’s enough punk rock ethic in what metal currently is, or in what people call metal, that you’re not looking at… There’s only one band on this tour, and that’s Black Dahlia Murder, that you could probably classify as “metal” as it is. I greatly respect them. It’s not necessarily the type of music I buy and listen to, but I go by their stage and go, “Holy fuck, they’re playing guitars!” Not to dog any bands on the tour, but it’s nice to hear people playing the fucking guitar, not just hitting it over and over again while people jump. Since you went there, I have to ask about the amp controversy. Bands have been doing fake cabs since The Who in the 70’s. Andy: It’s as simple as this: Black Veil Brides is the band with the long hair and the body paint and the makeup. That’s the “faggy” band for that. And then Black Veil Brides stops wearing the makeup, cuts the hair, and it’s “the guy sounds like the guy from Nickelback” now. Okay, we come out and play new songs and they’re “oh, that’s different. But there has to be something!” So they go on stage and take a picture of our cabs and then say that they’re fake amplifiers. Which, by the way, is so incredibly ignorant, because cabinets are never amplifiers! You cannot play music out of a cab. Unless someone has figured out a way to plug directly into a cab! Machinehead came out last week and was defending us in a way. Robb Flynn was like, do people really think that like, Judas Priest and Slayer and all of those – the ones that are on fire in the background, that they’re working too? Do they have fucking cables going up to the ceiling? POZ: Slayer’s upside-down cross… Andy: Exactly! You look at pictures of Van Halen and shit, they’ve got stacks and stacks. How could they possibly maintain any amount of electricity in that venue with 9 million cabs. KISS has had cabs that shoot video out of them for years! Do they think those are working as well? So what we did was turn them around, and asked the audience “look how boring this is! See these pieces of wood? People online are saying this is a better way to do this, that we’re faking. Somehow we’re still making music, but would you prefer if we turned these around?” And of course, an audience wants to see a show. We’re Black Veil Brides; we make no bones, we’re not going out here to be the “artistic  cred” band. There’s a lot of bands I have great respect for…a band like letlive. is a way different band from Black Veil Brides. We might come from similar things, and we can talk about playing VFWs and what that shit was like, but when we’re on stage, we’re the band that has the smoke bombs and the fuckin’ theatricality. So why wouldn’t we take that step on Warped Tour and have some sort of staging? That’s just part of who we are. So we’ll keep ‘em turned around; if people want it, maybe we’ll do them sideways, do a triangle of them? [Laughs] But yeah, it was silly.  People always find something. I’m sure the next thing will be, like, someone in the band’ll grow a beard and then it will be “beards are gay.” I don’t know, but there will be something. You brought up KISS earlier. You guys lost a lot of the makeup and longhair that made your reputation in the beginning. Andy: We were described as the Walmart KISS, the shitty KISS. “Stole everything from KISS” POZ: So is this your KISS late-80’s/early-90’s “Unmasked” era? Andy: You become a caricature of yourself over time. We never sat down and said, “Hey, let’s all stop wearing makeup.” Over the years, you look in the mirror and you don’t want to do the thing as much, because the thing is becoming… You can’t dress up as the same thing for Halloween every year and not get bored of it. We love the theatricality and going on stage and having that presentation, but for the time being we’re enjoying a more raw, natural look. We’re still guys in fucking leather jackets and everything else. That’s still part of us. But I don’t think the band needs to go out there like that. And by the way, if you want to see a band that’s head to toe in paint and makeup, there’s about 30 bands that have come out in the last year and a half that are doing that. So the stripped-down look – is this a more “authentic” you, or is it another character that’s just the “stripped-down character” instead of the “makeup character?” Andy: I like to think that it’s just what Black Veil Brides currently is. And I don’t know if in six months we’ll be wearing gas masks and clown wigs. Who knows what the next thing is, what we’re going to feel? I don’t think that’s going to happen, but right now as it is we’re not sitting around going “man, I wish we were still wearing makeup” or “it’s great that we’re not doing this.” We’re just wanna go out there and perform. I think we’re a better band than we’ve ever been. The look fits well with that. Like you said, you don’t know what you’ll be in six months, but do you know where you’ll be? What’s coming after Warped Tour for BVB? Andy: We’re doing a co-headlining tour with Bullet From My Valentine in the States for the Monster Outbreak Tour. POZ: That’s an interesting older band / newer band mix. Andy: Yeah, it’s gonna be fun. They’re closing each night. A lot of the venues we’re playing are venues we just headlined. It’ll be cool to see not only our fans, but theirs. It’s funny, because I feel like Bullet For My Valentine started out in this Warped Tour scene when they were getting going, but now they almost seem like the furthest thing from it. They’re in a very different world. Andy: Same thing with Avenged Sevenfold. People forget that Avenged Sevenfold did Warped Tour in tents for years and years. Then they worked their way up to second stage, and main stage… POZ: I remember people saying that M. Shadows singing would never work! Andy: Exactly, yeah! I remember, I saw them in like 2004 at Warped Tour. They were on the second main stage. He sang all the fucking songs – this is before they released the singing record. So he comes out and sings the songs and I’m like “whoa! This is more up my alley!” On Waking The Fallen, I think everyone knew they were going to skyrocket. And thank god they’re nice guys. We toured with them last year and they were wonderful people. And obviously an influence on us. We try to look at that and take it a step further. We wanted to be that band where, if we’re going to be on Warped Tour, we want to give them a cool show. POZ: Is it your goal to have one foot in this Warped world and another in the mainstream rock world? Andy: Maybe. I would never want to abandon something that has been so kind to us. So many bands get too big for their britches, they’re like “oh, we’re too big for Warped Tour,” blah blah blah. Assumably we probably won’t do it again next year just because that’s the nature of the tour, but I think if Kevin invited us again, we would definitely do it. Juliet: I’ll always do it. Andy: She’ll always be here. They actually put her in one of the production trucks at the end of the tour. [Laughs] POZ: Just keep her ‘til next year! [Laughs]. Juliet; This tour has been so incredible. Today is our anniversary, and today they let me and Andy plan the whole menu for catering. POZ: What’s on the menu? Andy: At lunch we had chicken wings, this corn that I really love, and BLTs. For dinner we’re doing ribs and mac n’ cheese. We’re going to go get that right now!

#andy biersack #julietsimms #vanswarpedtour #ishfauxtography

[gem-quest]

[ I N F E R N A  . . . ]

Real Name: Victoria Chang (goes by “Vicky”)

Age: 22

FC: Hoyeon Jung

Species & Class: Fire-Mage, Rogue

Guild: Obsidian

“Middle finger up, F you pay me”  —Blackpink, Boombayah  

Description of In-Game Powers: Inferna (Vicky) can generate and manipulate fire. She should theoretically be able to put it out, too, and control it in a more precise way, but so far, no luck. Over-using this ability results in dizziness and fatigue. 

In addition, Inferna has a natural affinity for fire-related ability scrolls, potions, and items. She is invulnerable to fire, though water and being underwater in general gives her up to -2 in defense.

Place of Birth: The suburbs surrounding Baltimore, USA

Appearance: Although Inferna’s natural hair color is black (technically, dark brown), she had it dyed red when she first got to college. In-game, she changes her hair color very often, utilizing a bunch of H-rank potions that are only there for cosmetic effects. She also gives herself a bunch of face tattoos in-game, just because she can. Currently, she has some of the lyrics from Blackpink’s DDU-DU DDU-DU tattooed around the area of her left eye, like so.

“I just think that it’s kind of lame that there isn’t even a Starbucks out here. I mean, all this fancy mead is fine and all, but sometimes I just really want a frap, you feel me?”

Places Most Likely to be Found In-Game: Inferna adores the Level 7 Tearoom. She’s always been keen on spilling the tea, both literally and metaphorically (plus the sweet treats don’t hurt!).

Inferna’s also a pretty regular sight in Yue City, trying to market her Inferna Sauce and Inferna Sriracha to beginner players.

Current Inventory: 

Flaming daggers x4

Regular daggers x2

Pocketknife x1

Silver dust x5

Dispelling amulet x1

Crossbow x1

Ignitium potion x2

Lock picking set x1

Ictuium potion x7

Black pearls x3

Blue pearls x3

“Inferna Sauce” (AKA hot sauce that tastes like Lao Gan Ma/chili sauce that she made using in-game ingredients to spice up the bland-ass white people food available in the marketplaces) x10

“Inferna’s Sriracha” (same deal ^^^) x14

Shortsword x1

Murmurationium x1

Assorted sweet treats from the Tearoom x22

+ assorted foodstuffs/drinks, and more coins than anyone would ever need because she’s such a goddamn hoarder

Strongest Character Trait: Flippant

“Leak college textbook pdf files, not nudes. Jeez.”

Strengths: Inferna’s a total boss at League of Legends (she was Diamond before she decided to check out Gem Quest), meaning that she’s pretty familiar with a lot of the game mechanics that GQ was founded on; in-game, she’s very good at appearing out of nowhere and then fucking off with whatever she decided that she wanted to steal; despite the fact that she thinks computer science is boring as all hell, she’s not bad at it - she hasn’t failed so far, which is a sign that she must be doing something right; somehow passing 3 years of CS courses means that Inferna’s pretty well-versed in a variety of programming languages (Python, Java, Haskell, Ruby, C++, etc); has a very good memory, despite her general flightiness; her in-game character is very speedy, if not always very stealthy; quick reflexes and good hand-eye coordination (Inferna would like to thank her eleven-odd years of playing League); a natural curiosity about the game has led to Inferna exploring all the little nooks and crannies of every level she’s been to so far, so she knows about many little secret passageways and the like

Weaknesses: In real life, Inferna’s primary motivations are 1) food, and 2) being petty, and this is definitely true in-game as well - the primary difference being that in real life, Inferna does not have the ability to whip out flaming daggers whenever she wants to; in general, Inferna is ready to throw hands way too often for it to be healthy; very reckless and impulsive; tends to jump to conclusions and rush into things without thinking it through; fickle as actual fuck; flighty and easily distracted; probably more fixated on trying all the pastries in the Tearoom than actually clearing the game; stubborn, headstrong, and bullheaded when she focuses on something long enough to decide that she wants it, no matter what - Inferna has a very ‘my way or the highway’ attitude; can and will pack so many meme and vine references into one sentence that it’s practically incomprehensible; what is self-control?; is avoiding all her responsibilities 24/7

Player Stats: Inferna’s got pretty high strength stats for her class, mostly because she decided to spec into fire-mage abilities (”Honestly, I just wanted to be like Uncle Iroh from ATLA and breathe flames from my mouth”), but her cautiousness is abnormally low for a rogue.

STRENGTH: 8

DEFENCE: 7

CHARISMA: 6

PSYCHE: 5

WILLPOWER: 7

CAUTIOUSNESS: 3

AGILITY: 9

ENDURANCE: 7

INTELLIGENCE: 6

LUCK: 5

Inferna’s general personality is better suited to being a Knight or a Rider, but on the intro screen she read that Rogues tended to get easy money, so she was immediately sold.

Personality: Well, to be perfectly frank, Inferna is...kind of a bitch (and, in real life, she was kind of an attention whore as a teenager, though she mellowed out a bit once she got to college). Inferna's perfectly aware of this, but she also like, doesn't care. With her sarcastic and irreverent sense of humor, Inferna is flippant and frivolous, always brushing other peoples' concerns and criticisms off with a breezy "eat a dick" (or something along those lines). Inferna is also a bit vain, especially when it comes to her hair, and has a very irreverent/ironic sense of humor (and she always appreciates a good nerdy science pun).

Although she really isn't the nicest person around, Inferna’s outgoing nature and spunky spontaneity (paired with a healthy dose of snarkiness) has still made her a couple of friends (and said friends are usually just as thick-skinned as Inferna can be). She's a bit too cocky and reckless for her own good, and she can be blunt to the point of being cruel. Inferna has no sense of tact nor subtlety whatsoever, and she means something when she says it. Inferna's not afraid of confronting someone head-on, and she has absolutely no patience for pussies who would rather subtweet her than talk trash to her face.

Flighty and fickle, Inferna's not always very good about texting back or making plans. She's extremely petty and makes way too many smart remarks for her own good, and has quite the temper on her - Inferna is both easily excited and easily angered, and can be rather capricious if she hasn’t had any coffee. However, she's also quick to forgive (if not necessarily to forget), and she can be surprisingly perceptive and observant sometimes. Inferna's a bit of a hypocrite in that she's not afraid to call out stupid bullshit when she sees it, but she's also very much full of bullshit herself, a fact that she will freely admit to. And although she doesn't seem to take anything seriously, Inferna can and will hold a grudge until the end of time if you piss her off enough.

Finally, some people can find her downright annoying, which Inferna is also perfectly fine with. She's quite self-aware, despite what one may think after interacting with her, and she's definitely not as clueless or oblivious as some people think she is-it's just a matter of if she cares enough to confront somebody about something. And, spoiler alert: nine times out of ten, she doesn't.

“I do things for two reasons, and two reasons only: 1) spite, 2) the aesthetic. That’s it.” 

Biography: Inferna had a pretty normal childhood, all things considered; she was a rebellious kid for sure, but her parents were patient with her and let her do what she wanted, so long as her grades didn’t slip (granted, her mom was pretty pissed when she decided that she wanted red hair on a whim one day and just went ahead and got it dyed, but beyond an annoying lecture, there were no other consequences). Inferna got into the gaming scene pretty quickly as a kid - she passed over stupid games like Call of Duty for ones where she could fuck people up and look cute, like League of Legends or World of Warcraft. 

Inferna got into a fairly decent public university in Baltimore, and was subsequently pressured into pursuing an undergrad degree in computer science by her parents. Inferna thinks that CS is alright - it’s not her favorite thing in the world, but it’s not unbearably boring like reading wack ass Shakespeare plays and then bullshitting a 2000-word essay about it - and so far, she’s passed all her classes. Which has to count for something, right?

Inferna decided to check out Gem Quest not long after it was released to the public, during the summer after her sophomore year of college. The only reason she really decided to was because she was tired of forking over $10 for each damn skin in League, and with a game like League, what was the fucking point if she couldn’t have a cute character? She slowly got more into it as time went on - the character customization options were absolutely gorgeous, plus she liked being able to actually sample the in-game foods - and it was strangely freeing, in a way, to be able to go on her own adventures and explore everything the levels had to offer. A way better use of her time than sitting in the library trying to debug her goddamn code, in Inferna’s opinion.

As Inferna began to take Gem Quest more seriously, she built a reputation for herself as That Bitch (TM).Thanks to her penchant of hoarding items and coins, she has gotten quite coin-rich, and thanks to her affinity with games that were similar to Gem Quest, she quickly advanced through the easier levels. 

Inferna was...surprisingly nonchalant, regarding G’s recent announcement that players could not freely leave the game anymore. She figures that if something horrible happens, she can always steal a relinquium potion from some rando, but until then, she’s just going to enjoy life. G told the real world about the development, Inferna’s assuming, meaning that her parents won’t be expecting her anytime soon. It’s selfish of her to just leave them out there worrying about her, really, but Inferna doesn’t want to go back to the real world, not just yet - one day, she’ll steal that relinquium potion and finish her degree like she’s supposed to, get a 9-5 office job like she’s supposed to, spend all her time on boring software development like she’s supposed to - but right now, she just wants to have some fun.

Relationships:

ENTHRONED - Inferna met Neddy for the first time in Finvarra’s Gardens (Level 10), which Inferna beat a long time ago but returned to because she remembered that the level had the most gorgeous pastries (she forgot that eating/drinking anything would trap her on the level for the rest of the game). Neddy reminded her of that rule, and Inferna spent an inordinate amount of time fawning over Jack like he was a puppy (before asking to ride him, which Neddy agreed to). Inferna thinks Neddy is super cute and generally likes both her and Jack.

Eventually: realizing that Inferna and Plagueis have run into each other before + Inferna has heard the rumors about him and Bloodbriars having the Supernova scroll, Inferna helping Neddy beat Level 30 because she thinks dodgeball is fun

MORNINGSTAR - Inferna met Morningstar in the depths of the Descend one day before the first event. Noticing Morningstar’s potioneering supplies, Inferna asked her if she had anything that would “make it feel like being high on weed, not this red gas stuff that’ll probably give me cancer” (Inferna’s not like, that big on weed, but she likes it on occasion, and kind of misses getting high). 

Eventually: form a small two-person party together, Morn being all starry-eyed about Inferna telling her about how she’s fucked around in general (going to college parties, getting absolutely wasted, getting twisted, just generally dumb college freshman shit), somehow realizing that Inferna knows Emily through a League Discord server

CHAR -

Playlist:

"DDU-DU DDU-DU” by Blackpink

“Fire” by 2NE1

“Friends and Foes” by Higher Brothers ft. Snoop Dogg

“Dalla Dalla” by Itzy

“Icy” by Itzy

“My New Swag” by VAVA ft. Nina Wang & Ty

“Solo” by Jennie of Blackpink

“Boombayah” by Blackpink

“Just Like Fire” by Pink

“High Hopes” by Panic! at the Disco

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/ayzrules/leak-college-textbook-pdf-files-not-nudes-gq/

#char info #inferna #vicky #obsidian #character info