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floserd-theflowercows · 5 months

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Information Spill

Since I'm running out of time at this point, I'm gonna have to throw in all the information, and then either organize it when I have time tomorrow, or organize it in December.

There are 5 subspecies of Floserds:

Plain Floserds, Tundra Floserds, Water Floserds, Parasitic Floserds, and Desert Floserds

They each have slightly different diets, with some corresponding portions

Plain Floserds eat berries, grass, hay, anything cows regularly eat, with an addition of tea. Which is specifically for babies. Or special occasions. Floserds don't really drink their own tea, unless another Floserd is injured, in which the tea helps sooth them, and makes them feel better as they're helped. But that's never tea from themself, as they'll never drink tea specifically from themself. They also drink water. They'll also eat fruits, but specifically fruits like apples and such. Not flower fruits (which is also something I'll get into in a later section of this spill)

Tundra Floserds eat berries, bush leaves, shrubs, and fruits. To get water, they use their hooves (which are slightly sharper) to make holes in the ice for them to drink from. Their diet is kinda similar to the Plain Floserd, but with biome differences.

Water Floserds eat sea plants (seaweed), and if they can access it, will eat grass and land plants (this is mainly water floserds from pond/lake--stream/river. Not really sea/ocean water floserds.)

Desert Floserds eat grass and other desert plants, and really like cactus fruit, as it's both what they eat and drink.

Finally, Parasitic Floserds eat nutrients from plants, nutrients from other Floserds, plants, and other Floserds (as a treat :3). They also really like sap from trees (imagine a bunch of Parasitic Floserds surrounding one of those red sap trees, and just drinking the sap. That's a worrying sight XD) (then again yall can't imagine it cus I haven't shared an Parasitic Floserd examples yet, and nobody looks at this blog)

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Now this is kinda some atanomic (how the freak do you spell it. Anatomy. Fricking Anatomy.) stuff, but not entirely?

To start off with the not-entirely anatomic (???) stuff, since I've explained that Floserds lay seed-like eggs, I added an extra step while I was gone:

They make fruit

Not edible fruit, that's very important. That's their child in the fruit, as the fruit is like an outer layer as the egg/seed produces. The fruit is what they pollinate (with the pollen in their flower tails), and the fruit is basically portable as the herd moves. After some time, however, the seed emerges, and has to be buried, as the herd waits for the egg to hatch/the seed to grow.

Now the rest.

The seed that a Floserd is born from is still apart of them as they grow. It kind of ends up being... it's heart? I haven't fully decided still as of now so currently it's its heart. But they, in short, have plant anatomy because... they're basically plants!! They're living and breathing(ish) but they're plants!! The biggest difference (in my opinion) is they have the seed's roots on the inside (kinda how they have their nutrients stored inside, as what they eat gets turned into nutrients and oxygen, as they release waste via oxygen!

Also I'm sorry I'm not good at anatomy, so their anatomy will definitely be updated at some part, the main constant will probably be the fact they have plant-like anatomy!!

Also, Floserds don't exactly have lungs, they breathe through their tails (or for some Floserds with back leaves, through their leaves as well)!! So yeah, losing their tail can be very dangerous for em...

Also (this is the third "also" in a row), I don't know if this fits here, but Floserds photosynthesize!! I think I forgot to say that!! Sometimes they lay in the sun, and just photosynthesize for a bit.

...their flowers also close at night that's a random unnecessary fact

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Now this part is kinda more like lifestyle?

Floserds always stick in herds, as I believe I stated before (if I didn't then my bad..), unless a Floserd specifically decides to leave their herd to explore or to start their own herd (which is very hard for Floserds to do)

Floserds also have a specific funeral tradition (don't ask why I gave them funeral traditions, I thought it'd be neat to give em). They bury the body of the dead Floserd (...or at least what remains of the dead Floserd - if anything - due to however they died), and surround it with flowers, herbs, and berries (the flowers and herbs are many different flowers & herbs, but are mainly the flower/herb the Floserd that died was). They then honor the lost Floserd, and after they finish honoring the Floserd, they all move on, but they do still mourn/grieve over the lost Floserd.

After some time, the buried Floserd regrows, but as only the plant they were. No longer a Floserd, but just a flower or herb.

Also, on the topic of this, most predators to a Floserd are omnivores or herbivores, and of course Parasitic Floserds

#Floserds #Floserds info #Information Spill #(I feel like by either December or June-August I need to organize this blog better...)

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yappaccino · 2 years

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so uhhhhh I drew too much stuff of specially fall morty so I’m dumping it all here. congrats to fall morty for being allowed to (kinda) come back. finally someobody let him out of his cage!!

this probably the longest post I’ll ever make here enjoy lmao

the moon has it’s dark side....

I came up with yet another au (cue people booing). Gist is that fall morty is morty’s evil alter ego yaddayadda he takes ho-oh from silver and ho-oh becomes shadow ho-oh yaddayadda morty does evil things.

moving on to eusine’s role in this au...I honestly couldn’t decide what it should be. I don’t think eusine would ever chose anyone or anything over morty (this is not up for debate) but eusine won’t help morty destroy anything or reset the goddamn world either. I just pull a “porque no los dos” and just make eusine an unwilling accomplice.

aka this is the sacredshipping section

so uh fun fact about me. I listen to music while I draw and when I hear a lyric/verse I really like I just write it on the canvas, doesn’t matter if it’s related to the art or not. I actually forgot to erase the lyrics in this case since I mostly sketch on one layer lmfao. song in reference was Siouxsie and the Banshees’s “Night Shift” and I actually wrote the misheard lyrics but that’s unimportant lol.

(just do me a favor and pretend eusine’s hair is down in the above pic I forgot that morty untied his hair at this point lol)

“I’m not evil” proceeds to burn everything. but its ok he’s the just cleansing the world of heathens who refused to believe in mystical power. this is fine.

OH YEAH I headcanon that eusine wears a clear bell as a ponytail holder and that morty wears a ho-oh feather on his choker. I don’t think I ever mentioned that here? lmao.

ok who cares about some dumb au plot. let’s move on to 🔞la desnudez🔞

this is purely artistic nudity. there’s no nuts so don’t go nuts.

I feel making eusine an angel and morty a demon is pretty self-explanatory. believe it or not there’s even more fricking art for this au but its way too high effort for me to post here. if you know where else I post art you’ll see it soonish.

ok let’s end this post with a haha funny image since it’s too long :)

ok that’s enough cringe I’m logging out bye!!!!!!!!

#pokemon masters #i had to resize that goddamn gif like 4 times so enjoy #dog animation studios

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purple-dahlias · 2 years

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Ok I'm sending this in cuz I love med school au an ungodly amount okay :

medtober prompt exam : Ava's feeling her pulse and putting her stethoscope to Sarah's heart and stuff like that cuz they're preparring for the cardio test or something but Sarah's going crazy like 'frick Ava's so so close to me' and like ava knows Sarah's blushing and just asks why her hearts beating so fast with a grin on her face

Oh my god I'm rambling its ok if u cut stuff out or add stuff lol also I don't know if u do this is med school irl but fgtgvv

Sgvxfg 😚

day twenty six- exam

i am so sorry this took so long to complete, but thank you so much for this request! i hope you like it <3 wc: 1962 warnings: none

Sarah checks the message again as she walks across campus, bundled up under a ridiculous amount of layers with her chin and mouth tucked into her scarf: an extra layer of protection from the biting November chill.

Meet me in the skills lab at 10

Honestly, when Ava had suggested the two study for their upcoming clinical skills exam together, after they’d worked on the physiology practical, Sarah hadn’t actually thought she was being serious. She just thought it was something she had said out of kindness or as a formality, without any real intention to follow through. And so, understandably, when Sarah had received a message from Ava late last night asking if she was ‘still on for tomorrow,’ it had come as a shock. So much of a shock, really, that Sarah recalls it’s a complete wonder she didn’t drop her phone then and there.

Her shock was further drawn out by the text she had found waiting for her that morning, instructing her to meet Ava at ten. It sent a jolt of both fear and excitement coursing through her, because this surely meant Ava must like her at least a little. Because this was something she absolutely didn’t have to do. There were probably over a dozen other people Ava could have gone with to practice and yet she had thought to ask her.

As Sarah agonises over whether Ava had meant ten in the morning or at night (but then really, who books the skills lab at ten pm? Sarah wasn’t even sure it was open then. No, it must be morning, she decides), her thoughts are interrupted by someone (Ava, she realises), calling out to her.

“Hey, Sarah!”

“Hey,” Sarah smiles, turning to find Ava a little way behind her, a cup of coffee in each hand.

“Thought we should at least start off caffeinated,” Ava returns the smile, holding out one of the cups to Sarah. “Americano, white, one sugar,” she recites. “Remembered from last time,” she grins, noticing the bemused look on Sarah’s face.

And of course Ava would remember her coffee order. She was Ava Bekker. She knew everything.

She’ll be able to read your mind if you’re not careful, Sarah thinks to herself.

“Thanks,” Sarah accepts the cup gratefully, warming her fingers around it. “Shall we get going?”

Ava falls into step beside her, nodding. “Let’s go.”

It doesn’t take the two long to make their way to the skills lab, but by the time they do, Sarah’s hands are considerably warmer, and she’s feeling a little more at ease, what with Ava chattering along beside her, complaining about her complete idiot of a roommate, Connor.

“So how do we want to do this?” Ava asks, securing her stethoscope around her neck as Sarah does the same.

“Well we’ve got cardio, respiratory and abdominal examinations to practice, so we could go through each of those normally, and then do them but with symptoms that we have to come to a diagnosis for?” Sarah suggests.

“Sounds like a plan,” Ava smiles warmly. “Mind if I examine first? You be the patient and let me know if I miss anything out?”

“Sure,” Sarah says brightly, though she knows Ava will never forget anything. “Do you want to start from the examination itself, or from the beginning with the introduction part?”

“Can’t hurt to add in the introduction, we want to simulate the real thing, after all.”

“Alright then,” Sarah settles herself on the exam couch and lays back, waiting.

“Hi, my name’s Ava Bekker, I’m a first-year medical student. Can I confirm your name and date of birth please?”

“Sarah Reese, July 16th, 1991.”

“Perfect. Ok, so today I’m going to be examining your heart, and that will involve me having a listen to your heart, feeling your pulses, taking your blood pressure and inspecting your hands, face and feet. Would that be alright with you?”

Sarah nods and gives Ava a smile so as to let her know so far so good.

“Right so before I start, are you in any pain at all?”

“No, all good.”

“Great. I’m going to start by just examining your hands,” Ava informs patient-Sarah. “So, could you put your hands out, palms facing upwards.”

Sarah nods, doing what Ava says and willing her hands not to shake. Because even though she knows this whole thing is being done so they can both practice for their clinical skills exam, spending time with Ava is hardly easy or straight forward, and not least because Sarah may or may not have a silly, ridiculous crush on her. But Sarah reminds herself that no, Ava does not and cannot feel that way about her, as much as it pains her to think. All the same, though, as Ava takes Sarah’s hand in hers, turning over them, inspecting the hands no doubt for splinter haemorrhages or clubbed fingers, a purely clinical action, it doesn’t stop the adrenaline coursing through her, doesn’t stop her feeling something.

“Looking good so far. I’m just going to feel for the pulse in your wrist,” Ava announces, moving her fingers round to find Sarah’s radial pulse.

An eye on the clock, Ava counts the beats, a small frown crossing her face. It should not be that fast. Had she calculated it incorrectly? No, she couldn’t have. But surely… that had to be way too fast for a resting rate, right?

“You alright?” Sarah asks, noticing Ava’s pause.

“Oh, yeah,” Ava nods, fixing her expression. She knows something is definitely up, but she’s not quite sure what.

(She may have a slight idea, though).

Sarah’s thoughts are running a mile a minute, no doubt matching her heart rate, if Ava’s expression was anything to go by. She just really, really hoped Ava won’t figure out the real reason for it. That would take a lot of embarrassing explaining that Sarah absolutely did not want to have to go through.

“Would you mind rolling up your sleeve? I’m going to take your blood pressure,” Ava continues, that professional tone back as she turns to pick up the sphygmomanometer and cuff.

Well, at least she hadn’t asked about the elevated heart rate, Sarah thinks to herself with relief.

“Sarah?” Ava questions once again.

“Hmm? Oh, uh, sure,” Sarah returns belatedly, stumbling over her words when she realises Ava had, in fact, been talking to her. She’s more than a little flustered, and hopes Ava won’t have noticed that, or the way Sarah’s eyes follow Ava’s every move. And it is not because of nerves from the procedure. Not at all.

“Hate having to use the sphyg,” Ava mutters to herself and Sarah lets out a little laugh. “We have machines now for a reason,” she huffs, inflating the cuff around Sarah’s arm, who silently agrees with her.

“A little elevated,” Ava purses her lips, a frown on her face.

“Hey! I’m the patient remember, no making comments or faces that could make me uneasy. And in any case, it’s probably just white coat hypertension.” Sarah shrugs, a more than a little defensive.

“But I’m not wearing a white coat,” quips Ava, a smile playing across her lips.

And no, she wasn’t wearing a lab coat but a high neck dark green sweater that just complimented the blonde waves of her hair so well and…

Sarah realises Ava is staring at her, and Ava is staring back. Had she said any of that out loud? Was Ava a mind reader?

“Continue with your exam, student doctor Bekker,” Sarah manages, a little stiffly, and more than a little embarrassed.

“Alright, alright. Miss Reese I’m going to have a look at your neck and a feel of the pulse there. Could I just ask you to turn your head to the left?”

Sarah nods, following the instructions, knowing Ava will be assessing the jugular venous pressure.

“That all seems fine. I’m going to have a listen to your heart and the valves now,” Ava informs as she puts in the earpieces of her stethoscope, placing it over Sarah’s chest.

It really, really does not help that Ava is so close to Sarah, leaning over her so that Sarah can smell the perfume she’s wearing (floral, lilacs maybe, the same as last time, which admittedly is a little frightening that Sarah can recall that particular fact), can see the gold leaf necklace hanging around her neck, can feel Ava’s hair brushing her chin. Sarah can feel her own heart thumping in her chest, can practically feel the blood pulsing through her body and rushing to her face, to where she just knows her cheeks are reddening. And she knows Ava will pick up on these things too. She also knows that Ava knows it is not at all because she is scared of doctors or clinical examinations or even the upcoming test. There is entirely another reason. One that Sarah is sure Ava knows about, and has known since that day they worked together in the lab for the lung function testing practical. She probably even knew before that. And Sarah doesn’t quite know where that leaves her. Nowhere good, most probably.

She knows it’s futile, but she wills, oh she wills Ava not to pick up on it. But of course she will. Because the whole point of practicing these examinations was to be able to recognise signs like an elevated heart rate and figure out what to do about them. How does Sarah explain to Ava that the way for her to stop this all would be if she just asked her out? But then again, she’s not even sure that would solve the problem. Might make it worse. She might suffer a myocardial infarction instead. Although, if she died from that, she at least wouldn’t be having this problem anymore.

Ava moves her stethoscope around, auscultating for the valves and moving down to the apex beat. Once again, she listens, counting the beats just as she had done with Sarah’s radial pulse, an eye on the clock. This time she listens for exactly a minute, not the thirty seconds and multiplying by two. That had to be fast for someone who was just lying there, right? She gets an unmistakable one hundred and fifteen. So yes, fast. Tachycardic, even.

“Okay, well. That concludes my examination,” Ava smiles, drawing Sarah back out of her rabbit hole of thoughts and back into the room. Amusement plays across Ava’s face as she watches Sarah realise that yes, in fact, Ava had been watching Sarah and that no, Sarah Reese was not as good at concealing her emotions and not showing them on her face as she thought she had been.

“To follow this through further, I could order a complete blood count, perform an EKG and conduct an echo. Any questions, Reese?”

“Hmm? Oh, uh…” Sarah trails off. Well, there was one. But Ava meant questions relating to the work, didn’t she? “No. I think you covered everything well in your examination,” Sarah smiles weakly, hoping her voice doesn’t sound as shaky as she feels.

“That so?” Ava cocks her head to one side. She knows she’s torturing Sarah, trying to tease it out of her, waiting just a little longer, just to see the reaction she’ll get.

“Mhmm.”

“Alright, well I have a question,” Ava announces, surprising Sarah. “If you’re free afterwards, want to come check out this new café that opened up a few blocks over? They have the most amazing looking pastries in their window. And afterwards, we could go down to the ice rink, if you want. I haven’t skated in years.”

“What? Me?” Asks Sarah, eyes widening ever so slightly in shock.

“No, the couch. Of course you, silly.”

“Wow, okay, yeah. That sounds lovely,” Sarah says shyly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. But the minute the words are out of her mouth, she hates them. Why, why did she have to be so awkward about things like this?

Ava graciously pretends not to notice the very obvious inner turmoil Sarah is in, fixing her with a grin. “I’m glad you think so,” she hums, pretty sure Sarah’s heart must be working overtime right about now, and both knowing the exact reason why. “Now let’s finish these examinations.”

#medtober 2021 #even though it's november and this fic is basically almost exactly 1 month late oops #med school!au #my aus #my writing #sarah reese #ava bekker #chicago med

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princeanxious · 3 years

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What art are you most proud of? And please show us a pic if you can! <3

Not gonna lie, this was actually p hard to answer. I’m honestly proud of any piece I get done, especially any full body, full color, full background pieces, and I refuse to let myself out-right hate anything that I draw in general now-a-days, unfinished or no. I draw for fun, always have, so I try not to put too much worry on how good something looks so long as it gets my idea across in a way that I like, or that I tried?? (And ik being proud of a piece doesnt have to tie into what the end result looks like, im just covering that base) I looked through all of my recent digital art on my ipad(that i’ve had what, 3-4 years at this point?) and found myself about just as happy with each finished piece-

-Except one. There is one piece that I forget about constantly but I’m honestly super proud of the amount of effort it had put in to reach the end result. It probably sees a number of glances infrequently(due to my sporatic activity on said blog) but isnt posted to this blog’s art tag.

It’s the blog banner I drew for my @thelostguardianau fic, of the(at the time) whole cast in the au. You can find the post to reblog it from here but i’m also adding it below for reference. (* and honestly I’ll mention every other art piece in this au posted to it’s blog stands at having this same proudness, as each individual characters complicated design fed into this big banner, each one having a giant set of uniquely drawn wings, complex body markings, and unique clothing and features. And I would not have been able to complete this banner without having those singular character chart pieces finished first, except for Thomas’s design, who has yet to be posted for ✨reasons✨)

This fricking Banner was and still is(for now, *wink*) the most ambitious piece I’ve managed to finish. It took me so long, my wrist hated me, my ipad hated me, my ipencil hated me, medibang hated me, this piece pushed the limits of the poor app. Every time I try and open this piece up on the app it takes a solid couple seconds to open, save, and close.

From sketching to lining every single character, to having to uniquely match up Their Wing Sizes and Heights, because Guardians are fucking Tall, so Wing size and Height size was hell to calculate and portray. Why, you might ask?

Because I was limited to the proportions that would actually fit into a tumblr mobile banner. Which, funfact, is much smaller than you’d think!

I had to make sure they’d all fit, wings and all. And they didnt fcking want to. But I made it fit, because I wanted a full body + wings cast banner and goddamn it that was going to happen. And I did. And I lost a fuck-off amount of detail-space for it.

Coloring it wasn’t exactly difficult, but I will once again point back to this app hating this piece and it draining my battery because of it. I work in layers. My lineart will have 5-6 different layers in color before I combine them and set the hue to black, but I still keep my lineart seperate in that each character has their own lineart, and the background lineart is seperate.

I had their lineart, and probably still do, seperated into Seven different layers, one per character, each one w/ an extra masking layer for their wing glow. Each character got their own folder for colors, and had multiple layers for each colored section: clothing, skin, skin blush + eye whites, hair, wings, body markings, marking glow. And then there was the background layers, and the glowing affects, ect. The whole piece stands at having about 80 total layers having been used over the course of making it.

So yeah, Medibang does not like this piece when I try to open it. xD

But really, setting aside fighting and babying technology thats being pushed close to its limit, the real pride comes from the fact that this piece has Seven fully colored, near-full body characters drawn, all touching and interacting and accurate to the scale that I made. It is the most amount of characters in one piece that I’ve ever drawn, colored, and finished, and I’m pretty fricken proud of it.

Which makes it all the more daunting that said banner is going to get an upgrade, because it’s a Character Cast Banner after all, and its going to have four more fully designed and full winged characters added into it.

And by upgrade, I mean I get to redraw the whole dang thing. Because I gotta rearrange ✨everyone’s✨ positions. And at this point, the only way thats possible is by starting over.

wish me luck on that. o_o;

#sanders sides #luka draws #thelostguardianau #luka answers #ask to tag #tw long post #kinda #luka rambles

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lunavadash-creates · 4 years

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The real pleasure

Warning: NSFW, explicit, first time Also all my works can be found on AO3 "Lass, have you ever been with a man?"

Shay's question was hanging in the air as you looked at him completely stunned. The sudden silence that surrounded both of you was awkward and you felt like every beat of your heart was as loud as thunder. You had no idea how your friendly, funny conversation became this weird.

Shay was your best friend, a fellow member of the Templar Order, one of your favourite people out there. You could rely on him, trust him and you thought you had no secrets from each other. Yet now you felt embarrassed. You had never expected to hear a question like this from his mouth.

For a second you wanted to turn it all into a joke like you usually did. But after one look at his handsome, worried face, you have changed your mind. One deep breath later you decided to simply answer his question.

"Yes, I have been with men before. Few times but I..." You stopped, biting your lower lip as you searched in your head for an appropriate word. "I have never truly enjoyed it. And to forestall your next question, no. I have never reached an orgasm with a man."

You reached for the glass of wine and took a sip, enjoying the taste. You had stolen the entire box of authentic Italian wine from the ship of the assassin you had been hunting together. It wasn't a big reward but definitely a sweet one.

After a moment of

silence during which Shay never took his eyes off you, he asked another question, one that made you choke on your wine.

"And with women?"

"Oh god, Shay!" your face blanched as though you had just seen a ghost. How could he read you so effortlessly?

"I don't know..." Shay rose his eyebrow, giving you a nod, encouraging you to continue. "I was with a woman once. I was completely drunk then, and I don't remember anything after the moment my ass hit the bed. I only remember that I was so fricking wet the next morning and both my head and throat hurt like a bitch. How about you?"

"If you are asking about my sex life then I haven't been with any men, but I know how to pleasure women."

He spoke with a purr, looking at you as a hunter would at his prey. A promise of divine pleasure was hidden in the twinkle of his eyes as he focused on your lips, redden from the way you had been biting them.

There was no denying it - Shay was a man made of dreams; he was as sweet as poison, as tempting as the most promising lie and as handsome like the work of art, a sculpture made by Michael Angelo himself. Everything about him was irresistible, from his dark hair, a scar on his face, his voice, his eyes, his lips, body, muscles, even his outfit.

You swallowed hard. It felt like something large was lodged in your throat, making you unable to speak. Was it a proposition? Suggestion maybe? Did he really want... or was it just a joke?

You waited for a second to see if Shay would burst out laughing, but it never came.

"Shay, do you want to have sex with me?" you choked out a question, still worried that you’d fallen for his trick like a novice, but once again, his eyes were expressing more than thousands of words. He reached for his wine, emptying the glass and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"I’m asking if you would let me show you the real pleasure. You deserve more than those useless bastards who don’t have a first clue on how to pleasure a lady." He paused, his eyes boring into yours. "Especially when she’s as remarkable as you"

Once again, you ended up stunned and speechless. You wanted to say yes, but you had so many doubts right now. Perhaps it wasn't about those men? Maybe it was you and your body? You never really doubted your look or features. You were healthy and strong, well-trained and you definitely had an appearance that earned you look from envious women and lustful men. Yet you had doubts. Maybe you were silent for too long as Shay let a sigh and shook his head.

"Forgot I asked. I'm sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable. Probably it's just...

"I want it Shay," you interject, suddenly coming back to reality. You couldn't waste that opportunity, especially since you had feelings for Shay. You hid them, of course. Your lives were far too dangerous, to ruin you relationship with love would be silly.

Bur if he wanted too…

"I just... I'm nervous. I haven't done it in such a long time, and I don't know if it's not just me being terrible at it."

"Shh," Shay was at your side in a blink of an eye. He gently stroked your cheek, looking straight into your eyes, before he leaned down to gently kiss your temple.

"I will take good care of you. I promise Y/N."

Before you knew it, he simply lifted you from the chair and carried you to his room. You were spending the evening at his home in New York – he’d proposed you stay with him instead of looking for an inn. And now, for the first time, you were in his bedroom. You have always been curious about it but never had the opportunity to sneak in, especially since you respected his privacy. And now, when you finally managed to find your way in, you had no time to look around as his lips were soon on yours.

Oh god, his lips were so much better than you imagined. Despite the first impression they were soft and warm, gentle even. He kissed you for the first time as though he were afraid he could hurt you. He held you so close, slowly devouring your mouth. You moaned silently, feeling the wave of heat spreading inside your body and cumulating between your legs. He broke the kiss for a second, resting his forehead against yours.

"I wanted to kiss you for so long y/n. You are far sweeter than the best wine."

Before you could answer he kissed you again, his tongue brushing against your lips, asking for entrance. You granted it gladly and in no time your tongues immersed in a dance of dominance and passion until you both ended up breathless.

With shaky hands, you reached for his coat to start to unbutton it and for the first time, you wondered, why he needed so many layers. At the same time, he reached for your coat, it was easy to open, you only had a few simple black buttons and a belt in the middle, so it was on the floor in no time. Shay took your hands away from his coat and kissed every single of your fingers, giving you a wink before he focused on undressing you again. Your shirt, trousers and boots soon joined your coat on the floor, and you laid back on the bed dressed only in your dusty punk slip and marching drawers.

Shay licked his suddenly dry lips and took the hem of your slip to get it off your body and then a loud gasp escaped his lips as he saw your beautiful, perfect body. He loved everything about it, your breasts, already protruding nipples, your skin and...

"I had no idea you had a tattoo."

You made it a long time ago to hide a particularly ugly scar. In its place was a tattoo of an Yggdrasil tree. Shay smiled and took off your panties before he started to undress himself. The floor was covered in clothes now, belts, coats, boots, underwear. And finally, you could see Shay naked and as beautiful as ever.

That man was perfect and that thin line of his black hair starting under his navel and reaching up to his cock that was already semi-hard made you gasp. You reached out to touch his body; you wanted to feel muscles of his stomach under your palm, to trace your fingers over his scars, especially that one on his stomach and under the collar bone. You knew the story behind those two, the wounds inflicted by his friends from the Brotherhood. He twitched when you touched one of those scars, but he didn't move away to begin with.

"Wait. Aren’t I supposed to take care of you? Be a good girl and lay still for me."

You did. You laid your hand on the cover and let Shay kiss you again. This time it was a short kiss, he soon moved on your neck to kiss and suck it gently. His hot tongue was tracing complicated patterns on your skin as he moved down until your collarbone where he left a little red bitemark. You inhaled sharply, letting out a moan as you moved your legs, trying to gain some stimulation with the wetness accumulating between them.

The next thing you felt were those warm lips closing around your left nipple. This time you moaned shamelessly. He sucked on it hard, licking the hardened nub, enjoying how resistant it seemed against his tongue, once he even bit on it. His free hand was in the meantime taking care of your other nipple, caressing it with his fingers, pinching it, twisting, pulling. You tried to cover your mouth to silence all those sounds you were making but he groaned, taking your hand away.

"Don't. I want to hear everything."

As he said that, he started to suck on your other nipple, making you squirm and wiggle on the bed. The pleasure was more intense than you have ever imagined. You felt jolts of pleasure spreading in your body, weird, almost unknown heat accumulating between your legs. His hand pinched on your nipple harder than before and you bent over the bed with a loud cry, that soon turned into a moan when he started to move his nail on the very top of your wet and hard nipple, now swollen from all the attention it received. You had never played with your nipples before, so it was such an alien feeling that made you all horny.

"Shay, God..." you moaned again as you felt his hand wandering lower, in between your legs. He just moved his fingers up and down your sex, and a wide grin appeared on his face. His raised his hand, and you could see his fingers wet and glossy from your juices, and that made you blush harder than ever in your life. But what made you almost faint was when he licked his fingers, giving you the most sensual purr, you have ever heard.

"So, wet for me. And so sweet. You won't deny me such a dessert, will you?"

You could only nod in response. In a matter of seconds, Shay positioned himself between your thighs and gave you a long lick before he closed his mouth around you. He sucked firmly on your clit while his fingers were caressing the insides of your thighs. You dug your fingers into bedding, squirming uncontrollably. You couldn't stop all the sounds escaping your throat as he was pleasuring you in ways you could never imagine. He moved his lips slightly to suck on your labia, then dug his hot tongue inside you.

In the beginning, he simply wanted to simply make you wet and well prepared for more. But then he heard your moans and screams, the moment he saw your face in pure bliss, he decided that this night would be unforgettable. He wanted you to cum for him and because of him. More than once.

He moved back to your clit and after a few more licks, the heat that was accumulating in your body for the past few minutes exploded. You back arched hard, screaming and digging your heels into the bed as he led you through your orgasm. You fell on the bed almost breathless and saw his face with a smirk plastered on it. His lips were still wet as he looked into your eyes.

"Hey lass, it's just a little foreplay. Don't tell me that’s all you can take." He was clearly mocking you, and you wanted to say something, but then he kissed you again. You could feel your own taste on his lips. His hand reached lower and he pinched your clit, making you jerk and moan again.

"Relax."

He disappeared between your legs again and you felt his fingers moving between your labia, gathering your juices and saliva before he slipped one finger into you. He moaned, feeling how tight you were. Your insides were clenching around his finger and he wanted to bury himself whole into you. But now he knew he needed to prepare you and he didn't hesitate for a second.

He started to suck you again, moving his tongue around your over-sensitive nub, while his finger was moving inside. But suddenly he stepped back and caught your hips to turn you on your stomach with a quick move.

"Shay?!"

"A little bit of trust," he muttered and lifted your hips higher. Soon his fingers were once again inside of you at his tongue danced around your most private area, making your breath harder than before. After the strongest orgasm of your life, you had trouble with formulating words, but Shay didn't mind. Your body was telling him everything about your pleasure, and that made him proud.

He slid inside you his second finger, searching for your sweet spot. You felt stretched and weird, penetration always made you feel uncertain, but somehow Shay was making it bearable. It wasn't the best feeling in the world at least until another shock shook your body. You moaned, rocking your hips as you wanted him to do this again. He brushed something inside you, making your muscles twitch. Another jolt of pleasure spread in your body, and this time you felt it even in your nipples.

"Do it again, please do it again!" you moaned, unable to resist the urge to feel it again and again. You heard Shay's chuckle as he added a third finger and brushed that spot again. His tongue returned to your clit and he started moving his fingers fast and hard, spreading and flexing them inside. He found that a little thickened and rough spot inside you and pressed it with all his fingers, at the same time biting in your clit.

The pleasure that overwhelmed your body was divine and your orgasm powerful and sudden, and your scream was so loud it could wake up all the dead in the city. Shay once again led you through it and you simply collapsed on the bed, your body trembling and twitching in post-orgasmic shock. You could heard Shay laugh and then the smacking sound as he licked his fingers clean once again.

"You are beautiful when you cum. And your voice could lure sailors at the sea into the doom. But that was only two... I wonder if you can take one more?" he purred, lying next to you. He gently ran his fingers over your spine, making you shiver. You turned around to face him, your breathing was still hard and you felt like your thoughts were shattered but you didn't mind at all. you looked at his beautiful body and then noticed his hard cock, waiting for more. You realised that all this time he was delaying his own pleasure and orgasm only to satisfy you and now... now you had to return the favour. You sat up and with a reassuring smile, you helped him sit. You wanted a different position as he already did so much to you. Now he will be the one moaning...

"Lean against the wall," you ordered and moved between his legs.

Actually, you had never sucked a penis in your life but you wanted to moisten him beforehand. You licked your lips and took his hot cock in your hand, stroking it gently a few times before giving a little lick on the tip. Shay's hips jolted in anticipation and you looked at him with a grin. You gathered all your courage and started to suck him. At first, it was very gentle and focused around the tip, but soon you started to be more confident with all Shay's moans and grunts. You dipped your tongue into the slit of his penis, while your hand was playing with his balls. Then you tried to make your way down, swallow as much of you as you could but he was just too big for you and soon you choked a little as you hit back of your throat.

"y/n don't overdo it. Use your tongue more. You can suck harder and by the gods, don't use your teeth." the last part came a bit shaky from his throat as you sucked hard on his head and wrapped your tongue around his hot shaft. In the same moment, he put the hand on your head, gently controlling your movements. You could feel the precum leaking from the tip, it was salty and weird but somehow it made you excited for more. You eagerly played with his shaft and balls, making him nice and wet. You even tried once more to take him deeper but then he stopped you. You left a disappointed moan, as a child that lost its favourite toy, but Shay just gave a smile and wiped the saliva from your chin. You had no idea you had made such a mess and immediately your cheeks became red, making Shay laugh.

"Don't be shy. There is nothing sexier than seeing your swollen lips wrapped around my dick."

"Is that so?" you asked mockingly, moving closer to him. You kissed him hard, grabbing his dick and directing him into you. You lowered yourself, impaling himself on his cock. You both left moans of pure pleasure as he filled you up so perfectly. You needed a second to adjust to the feeling of being so stretched before you started to move. Slowly at first but with every thrust, your movement became faster and stronger. You needed to lean against a wall as you work your hips hard. This time it was Shay moans that filled the room. He grabbed your breast, sucking on your nipple while his other hand was holding your hip. It was messy sex, fast and furious, but you both needed it.

Suddenly Shay slipped out of you and put you on all fours on the bed, making it clear in what position he wanted fuck you.

He entered you, grabbing your hip firmly and start moving, now hitting your sweet spot with every thrust. He was slipping out to the hilt and slamming back in you so hard that the whole bed started to move, hitting the wall with a metal bed frame.

His grunts became louder as he was getting closer and your screams were shameless now. You didn't care if the whole New York heard you. Now you were in your personal, sexy and rough heaven, reaching your third orgasm that night. And as you did you clenched around his cock so hard and he barely made it out of you before cumming all over your ass.

His breath was heavy and hard as he nearly immediately collapsed on you. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your body was devoided of all tension, you lost your name, your purpose, words and everything. The only thing you could feel on that moment was his warm body, his heart beating as hard as yours, his breath on your neck.

He moved off you with a moan and laid on his back, grabbing you and moving you to his side. You complied, wrapping an arm around his stomach. But then you felt something weird digging into your arm so you moved slightly to grab this thing. Surprisingly you found a piece of a wall. You both looked at it shocked and looked at the wall. In the place where the frame was hitting it, there was a whole reaching to the bricks. And on that moment you both burst out with laughter that filled the room.

"Now you can say that only one man made you cum," he said when both of you calmed down.

"The very best man I dare say. It was... my God. Shay, it was... divine."

"Well... If you wish we can do this more often. You are so beautiful Y/N. And you have no idea how long I've been dreaming about holding you in my arms. I wish to be the only one who can see you like this."

"I won't complain Shay. I wanted you for so long but I was too afraid to admit it."

He grinned like crazy and kissed you hard and passionately like he wanted to fill you with all emotions he has been hiding from you. He took your hand, rested it on his chest and smiled.

"Now I'm yours, y/n."

"And I'm yours, Shay."

"And I'm never again staying in this house with the two of you" Haytham entered the room, looking at you both with disappointment. He threw a damp cloth at Shay

"Clean yourselves. I expect you both well-rested, we have work to do."

As soon as Haytham left the room they both exploded in laughter once again. Well, it was so easy to forget about Haytham’s presence in this house...

#shay cormac #ac rogue #luna writes #asassins creed rogue #shay cormac x reader #shay x reader #haytham kenway #reader insert

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reneesi · 4 years

Text

i never would have thought // CH.07

WRITTEN PORTION

The clock on the sleek mint green wall of the train station read 10:15. Only 2 minutes had passed since (y/n) had last checked it, never the less at 10:18 her eyes where shifting to read the time once more. (Y/n) wrung her hands together, gaze falling to her feet for what felt like the millionth time. She wasn’t nervous, or more like she wasn’t nervous because of Tsukishima, she was just in a hurry! At least that (y/n) told herself as another wave of fluttering washed through her stomach and up her throat. Her breathing had been weirdly staggered all morning, and though she’d never admit it (y/n) had spent a little too long picking out her outfit. Eventually she had settled on a pastel pink tank top and light wash overalls along with low white socks that had cute lace trimming along the edge. It was simple enough, nothing that seemed as though she had necessarily tried but enough of a difference to elicit an exited “You look really cute today!” from her little cousin Natsu as she was leaving the house.

(Y/n) went through her mental checklist, again, attempting to calm her nerves. If she had forgotten anything she’d have to walk all the way back home to grab it and would probably loose too many daylight hours. Speaking of which she was already falling behind schedule given the fact that Tsukishima had yet to arrive. (Y/n) pulled out her cellphone, reviewing her last three text messages again. It had been nearly half an hour since Tsukishima had sent his simple “Im on my way.” And yet he was no where to be seen.

Sighing, (Y/n) sat on the nearest bench, frustration threatening to consume her. She tried sending another text. She checked the clock once more, 10:20. She sighed.

“This fucker…” she mumbled under her breath, staring at the time on her lock screen. They had agreed on 10 o’clock sharp. Well maybe not “sharp” but it had still been 10-ish as in around 10, not 10 fricking 30. (Y/n) calmed herself yet again, wanting to maintain a positive attitude for the long day that was certainly to come. Five more minutes, she thought. Five more minutes and if he didn’t show she’d call Tsukishima until he picked up the fucking phone.

Five excruciatingly long minutes later, (Y/n) was holding her cellphone to her ear, dial tone ringing its mechanical melody. (Y/n) bit her lip.

“Idiot.” A familiar voice scoffed from behind, as a sideways palm came over her head, hitting her hard enough to elicit an ouch of compliant.

“Why would you call me when I’m right behind you?” He asked, voice even and monotonous as always.

(Y/n) turned to look back at Tsukishima, sending him a glare as she stood.

“Because you’re 25 minutes late!” She accused, pointing an enraged finger at his chest.

“I told you somewhere around 10.” He shrugged, moving past her as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Yeah well I thought that meant maybe 10:05 at the latest? What kind of idiot thinks 10:25 is around 10?! Thats around 10:30 more than anything!” (Y/n)’s voice was rising with every word, “And where are you going?!”

Tsukishima stopped and looked back over his shoulder, not an ounce of readable emotion across his face.

“We’re going to miss our train.” He said evenly, before turning back to walk onwards. (Y/n)’s eyes widened and in a scramble she picked up her backpack and stumbled to catch up, boarding the train just after Tsukishima. Once they had settled into seats right by each other he mumbled quietly.

“You wanted to go to the city right? The train leaves at 10:30 so as long as I was here before then everything is okay, right?”

Rosy pink bloomed over (Y/n)’s cheekbones, her head dropping slightly to hide her face. Suddenly she was too close to Tsukishima.

“Y..yeah.” (Y/n) uttered, embarrassment pricking at the tips of her ears as the nerves in her stomach flared.

The two rode in silence for the remainder of the trip, Tsukishima tilting his head to stare away from (y/n) while listening to music though his headphones, and (y/n) sneaking glances every so often at Tsukishima. She argued internally that she was just doing pre-shoot mental plotting. Deciding what poses she’d put him in, what kind of lighting would look good and so on. But it was during these reticent glances that (y/n) noticed Tsukishima’s hair was still damp. A single droplet of water rolled off a strand of shimmering blonde every so often, and with the early light each bead shone like a crystal. Upon further inspection (y/n) concluded he must have taken a shower not long before his departure given the fresh glow of his creamy light skin and the hint of shampoo that hung in the air between them. It was a scent close to laundry detergent and something else she couldn’t quite place, something sharp and intriguing.

(Y/n) felt something strange bubble in her chest, similar to nervousness but different enough to be foreign, and realized she had yet to pull her eyes away. Mentally she thanked the higher powers that Tsukishima had settled down facing away from her and leaned her head back, moving to stare at the ceiling. If not for his position he would have otherwise noticed not only her staring but the hints of pink and red that had failed to leave her face since the beginning of the train ride.

They arrived at the city around 12 PM, (Y/n) complaining loudly at the sheer amount of time “wasted” on the train. She quickly declared their first order of business to be finding a spot with some sort of decent lighting and taking a few preliminary shots to determine the best angles for the shoot. The pair walked around for a while, passing sarcastic jokes and small retorts back and forth. Every time they’d pass a window, on of them would make some sort of judgment call about whatever was being displayed and in the turn the other would jump in to defend said item.

“I just don’t see how you could hate a hat so much! It’s got flowers!” (Y/n) explained, mouth wide and aghast

“It looks tacky.” Tsukishima shrugged, (y/n) shook her head tragically

“Oh Sucky-shima, when will you learn the true beauties of this world.” She sighed drastically, Tsukishima snorted in response

“You’re the one who said that strawberry shortcake looked soggy, which was just factually incorrect.” He threw back, side eyeing (y/n) with a raised brow

“It did not look appetizing.”

“You just have no taste.”

“I don’t dislike strawberry shortcake! There’s just better out there, and I am a person of taste” (Y/n) defended.

“Plus I could probably make a better one.” She finally added, after a long beat of silence. Tsukishima looked like he had something to say but ultimatley didn’t reply, instead he simply rolled his eyes and continued in silence.

Eventually the two came across a fairly empty park and settled into a well lit corner of the greenery. (Y/n)’s camera flickered on and after some button pushes and general adjustments she looked up, half expecting Tsukishima to be in some sort of position. But to nobodies surprise but her own, Tsukishima only stood a couple feet away looking around awkwardly. (Y/n)’s breath caught in her throat as she considered going over and positioning him herself, only to realize that would require touching him which might make things even more awkward than they already where. Because even for all the friendly banter they’d grown to take comfort in, they were still barely good friends and a thick layer of discomfort was very much present between the two.

“H-how do you want me to stand?” Tsukishima asked after one two many moments of silence had passed. It was difficult to tell due to the harsh light and hot weather but (Y/n) could have almost sworn Tsukishima was beginning to develop a soft blush atop his cheeks.

“U-um, why don’t we start with some sitting one! Like on that bench!” (Y/n) pointed, giggling forcibly at the end of her sentence. She cringed inwardly. Tsukishima only nodded, walking over and taking a seat on the bench she had selected.

(Y/n) took a deep breath, it was always weird in the beginning. She always felt awkward at first, so this was no different. All she had to do was get into a groove and she’d be in her element in no time. Then everything would stop feeling so suffocatingly weird.

“Okay, um, don’t move just maybe rest your arms on the top behind you and put that leg over the other, wait not like that I mean-“ (Y/n) blushed, resisting the urge to cover up her face with her hands. Tsukishima looked up at her, confused.

“Just, sorry, just sit however makes you comfortable and try to um relax.” (Y/n) finally sputtered out, sighing as she brought the lens up and squinted. This was going to be harder than she thought.

The first couples shots were tense and really REALLY awkwardly positioned. Tsukishima looked like a broken store mannequin that was being held at gunpoint. But once he noticed (y/n) had started to relax, Tsukishima began joking around again, throwing insults and light criticisms at her in a playful way that felt comforting to their dynamic. Once (Y/n) started laughing again, the ice began to melt and Tsukishima was able to produce a much more normal looking pose. After a half hour of shooting like this (Y/n) stopped and plopped down beside Tsukishima, leaning back into the bench. She began to swiftly click through the images, deleting most of them.

“What was the point of that if you’re just gonna delete them?” Tsukishima asked, furrowing his brows in annoyance “Now I’m gonna have to do all that work again.”

“Relax, that wasn’t the actual shoot. I was getting some test shots to see what exactly I wanted and also what you’d be comfortable doing.” (Y/n) explained, pausing on an image of Tsukishima with his head back, a smile barely visible but never the less present. She smiled to herself, moving on to the next picture without deleting it.

“Since clearly you don’t like to smile for the camera we’re gonna do a stylized phtoshoot so your facial expression doesn’t hinder the process.” She continued, emphasizing the last bit in a sarcastic tone.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes,

“Whatever, let’s just get this over with.” He sighed, melting back to lay against the bench in a half seated half slipping off sort of way.

The next couple hours were long, to say the least. (Y/n) barked orders from afar at an increasingly annoyed Tsukishima, as the day grew hotter and brighter forcing the pair to change the spot they had settled into. The stances Tsukishima took only really worked half the time, since he was mostly too tense or couldn’t figure out the desired posing from (y/n)’s words alone. Regardless, (Y/n) refused to go over and physically put him in position in fear of accidentally ruining the easy atmosphere they had finally achieved. And as they trudged on, the heat began to wear them down, gathering sticky sweat across their foreheads which dripped down to their chests which fueled their matching exhaustion.

Eventually Tsukishima came to a halt

“Okay, enough.” He ran a hand across his forehead “We need to take a break.”

(Y/n) considered arguing but as she felt another bead of sweat roll down the back of neck she decided that maybe just this once, she’d have to listen to Tsukishima.

“This shit is no joke, now I understand why people get payed to do it.” Tsukishima huffed, collapsing back onto the bench they had initially sat in, which had now come to be in the shade. (Y/n) tossed him a water bottle from her backpack and sat beside him, popping the cap off and guzzling the cold down her throat. The refreshment of the cool liquid was unparalleled, and as she drank (Y/n) felt streams of water slipping down her chin. She exhaled, wiping at the wetness with the back of her hand.

“Yeah, it usually isn’t this hot though.” She remarked, shooting Tsukishima a look of apology before leaning back to let her head fall off the edge of the bench.

“Had Tsukishima been blushing just now? No, it had to be the heat.” She pondered internally, staring up and enjoying the way the tree’s leaves moved in soft tandem with the wind, streams of light breaking through the shrubbery.

“You said you needed something interesting, right?” Tsukishima asked a few minutes later

“For the photoshoot?” (Y/n) asked, pulling herself back up to sit upright while turning to look over at Tsukishima

“Yeah, I had an idea.” He began

(Y/n) tilted her head expectantly.

“What if we used the water, from the water bottle? You could probably create a cool effect with that right?” He suggested, holding up his half empty water bottle. (Y/n) narrowed her eyes, thinking for a moment

“That… could actually work.” She pipped up, energy returning in a burst “Wait! I think I have an idea.”

(Y/n) scooped up her camera, fiddling with the settings as she looked around for a spot to shoot. In the blur of excitement she took a hold of Tsukishima’s wrist and dragged him into position.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, jeez.” He grumbled clearly annoyed, not attempting to pull his hand away despite this. (Y/n) released his hand and began adjusting his shirt, and it was then that she realized just how touchy she’d suddenly become. She peeked up at him and this time he was definitely blushing. Her own cheeks flared and (Y/n) jumped back, vision hazy with embarrassment.

“S-sorry! I didn’t even-“

“It’s fine.” Tsukishima scoffed, looking away to avoiding her eyes “It’s just part of the job right?” He shrugged, feigning indifference that was clearly contradicted by the red on his face.

(Y/n) bonked herself internally, he was probably so embarrassed and uncomfortable. She stood farther away but positioned him physically none the less, making sure to only touch him if absolutely necessary. As she set up the exact shot she wanted, (Y/n) mumbled little apologies in between, biting her cheek to calm the raging nervousness at the pit of her stomach that only worsened with every touch.

Eventually they were able to get a picture that (y/n) deemed presentable and the pair moved on to the rest of the portfolio, since the major piece had been accomplished. The two first years ended up staying out until the sun began to set, partially because they kept pausing to banter in between each click of the shutter but mostly because (y/n) couldn’t help but to stop and stare through the lens every so often, making some snarky remark to hide the way her breath caught behind the camera.

Orange light swallowed the tile and columns all around, painting the empty train station (Y/n) and Tsukishima had come sit in in a soft gold hue. The sound of wind and far away trains whirred in the distance and the weather had cooled to a comfortable warmth, the kind felt by a fireplace in the dead of winter when snow falls on eyelashes and the air smells like sugar cookies. A gentle warm, like that of a blanket.

The sticky sweet vanilla dripped onto the floor beneath her and (y/n) licked at her ice cream bar, hoping to catch the next drop with her tongue instead.

“Thanks for helping me out today.” (Y/n) finally mumbled, eyes fixated on the barely visable pink tinted clouds that lay in the far away sky. She could feel Tsukishima next to her, radiating subtle warmth which was sort of strange since he was always so cold, not just to her but to everyone. It was hard not to think so much about him, when he was only centimeters away.

(Y/n)’s mind wandered back to her slip up and suddenly she remembered the feel of his wrist in her hand, and another wave of hot brushed over her face. His skin had been… soft. She peeked over at his hand, the free one that lay in the space between them and wasn’t holding up an ice cream bar. She’d never really been one to pay attention to such trivial details, but now that she knew what his skin felt like, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if his hands were just as soft.. how his long slender fingers would feel wrapped around her own.. what his palm would feel like against her cheek-

“Yeah, no problem.” His response was like a snap back to reality, and although Tsukishima hadn’t noticed the way (y/n) had been staring longingly at his hand her blush still deepened as she lowered her gaze back to her feet.

In the end, (y/n) got ice cream on her overalls and a pestering poke to the cheek from Tsukishima.

“Don’t zone out while you’re eating ice cream, idiot.” He’d sneered, causing (y/n) to slap his hand away in protest. The two had argued back and forth before eventually boarding the train and much like that morning, had rode home in silence. When they had arrived back home, there had been only a slight pause on Tsukishima’s part before the two had exchanged goodbyes and parted ways. In that moment before their departures, Tsukishima had looked confused, almost as if he’d been trying to figure out his next play in a long game of chess, but a look like that only had a lifespan of about 5 seconds on a face like Tsukishima’s. (Y/n) sighed in exasperation, throwing her head back to stare at the stars as she walked, she never could read Tsukishima… So what the hell had he been thinking?

CH.07 II you owe me

A/N: Hi, i am SO SORRY! I really was trying to stick to the uploading schedule and then i just got absolutely hit by life. Last weekend was kind of really crazy and i knew i had a big chapter planned so i didn’t wanna sacrifice the chapter in order to release something earlier :/ Then yesterday I was still trying to finish up this chapter and it kind of all snowballed together. To stay on schedule Im gonna double upload wednesday since i still owe you guys another chapter. I hope this one sort of makes up for the lateness, since this is the first REALLY long one in terms of ss and writing! Again, i’m really REALLY SORRY :(( But i hope you guys enjoy!!!

The picture of Tsukishima from the photoshoot with the water bottle is FANART and nOT MINE, it belongs to @unico_ts on twitter!! All credit is her’s!! Go check her out, her fanart is DIVINE <3

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greycappedjester · 3 years

Note

"If ATFO isn’t up by the end of the month, feel free to ask me for an already written scene from one-shot from that universe." is the offer still open?

Gotcha! Sorry this is late 😬

Here is young Jason's POV. It's from right after Year 4 so before Tim and right after Jason was formally adopted (still in training to be Robin)

Here's the first eight pages

-------

Year 4.5: The Vacation

Alright, so here’s the thing.

Jason is a city boy. He grew up in a city. It was Gotham so it was a shit city and the part that he lived in even shittier; but, it was, without question, a city. And one where he had lived the entire fourteen years of his somewhat depressing life. Jason was familiar with said city.

So, Jason is decidedly not familiar with the so-called “great” outdoors. Fuck, he’s pretty sure the closest he’s come to nature is fights with Poison Ivy.

All of which is just too fricking bad because Jason also happens to be the recently adopted brother of Dick Grayson, who has for some unimaginable reason decided camping is the best way to spend a vacation.

And Jason is coming along.

Why? Because apparently Dick’s first thought had been this was a great time for brotherly bonding. Okay, actually his first was that it was perfect for Jason’s birthday but Jason had flat out refused and Dick moved it to the week after.

So, now, the newly fourteen year old is watching as Dick somehow crams a tent, sleeping bags, and camping gear into one of the Wayne’s very fancy and very compact sports cars.

Jason looks back wistfully to the manor door.

It’s probably not too late to back out.

But, as lame as it most definitely sounds, this camping trip actually seems really important to Dick. Like important enough to give Donna his Titans duties for a few days and ask Roy to be back up for Barbara in Gotham if she needed it. Plus, more terrifying, getting Barbara to agree to that.

And, as much as he refused to say it aloud, Jason could privately admit that Dick Grayson may have a very large part in why his recently somewhat depressing life is a now a lot less depressing.

Whatever. So, Jason might not actually think it’s too terrible to spend a few days with his older brother. Even with the camping.

That still doesn’t explain the other part.

“Why can’t we bring our uniforms again,” Jason complains, crossing his arms.

Dick doesn’t stop in his work to get the trunk shut. “Because that would mean we’re working and I’ve been informed by both Raquel and Zatanna that working vacations don’t actually count as vacations.” The trunk pops back open and Dick’s head disappears inside. “Besides, we won’t need them where we’re going.”

“Yeah, cause that doesn’t sound ominous,” Jason mutters under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!”

Dick emerges and the trunk finally closes with only a slight creak of protest. “Ha, there! What did I tell you? Circus performers always know the best packing tips.”

Jason is reluctantly somewhat impressed.

“Come on, get in! We’ve gotta get to the grounds while there’s still light to set up the tent.”

Jason slumps into the passenger seat. “Are you sure this isn’t like you stealthily training me in advanced wilderness survival or something?”

“It’s a vacation, Jason,” Dick insists, starting the car and backing down the drive way. “Believe me, if it was training, I’d pick a lot trickier place than twenty minutes out of Gotham city limits.”

Crap, if it was training, Jason would at least know it sucked for a reason. Doing it for fun makes it even worse.

“You know you’re an heir to like billions of dollars, right?”

“We’re the heirs,” Dick corrects because of course, he does.

Jason rolls his eyes. “I’m just saying if you wanted nature, we could go to like the Bahamas or the Galapagos or even just buy an island if that’s what you really wanted.”

“We don’t need an island.”

“Sure, we do. We could even use it as a secret prison for supervillains when we’re done. It would be great!”

Dick’s grinning, checking briefly before pulling into Gotham traffic. “Secret island prison bases definitely fall a bit too far into the supervillian category, Jay. They'll sue us for trademark infringement.”

“Still beats camping.”

“Camping’s fun!” Dick laughs. “Trust me. Millions of people do it every year. They can’t all be wrong.”

Per usual, Jason is far less trusting of the populace’s intelligence than Dick is.

As if to spite his skepticism, the hour or so drive out to the woods doesn’t go so bad. Jason commandeers the radio so they’re listening to a good classic rock station instead of being subjected to the weird mix of folk songs and pop music that Dick likes. The dark buildings and usual smog of Gotham starts to fade out around the forty minute mark, somewhere between one of Dick’s Titans stories and Jason complaining about a plot thread in the last book he read.

The drive is nice. Peaceful, even.

You know like most horror movies start.

“We’re here!”

Jason eyes the stretch of trees for any kind of sign or even a distinguishing feature. There’s nothing.

“Dick, this is definitely not a campsite.”

“It’s a few miles off,” Dick explains, dropping a bag in Jason’s arms. “I wanted to avoid the usual campgrounds in case the tabloid reporters found us. Don’t worry, I checked with the owner. No one’s used this stretch in years.”

Jason thinks there’s probably a reason for that since there’s not one hint of a trail in sight.

“Where are we even going to set up a tent?”

“Not sure,” Dick says way too cheerfully. “Finding a spot’s part of the fun!”

Jason gives him a look.

Dick rolls his eyes. “Relax, Jay. The owner told me there’s a stream about half a mile in. We’ll set up camp there.”

Jason still gives a token grumble just because.

By the time night rolls around, they do manage to find a camping spot, set up the tent, and Dick even starts up a small fire right in the middle of the campsite.

If pushed, Jason would admit the entire thing is a bit picturesque.

He bites down on his hot dog as Dick digs through the rest of their stuff.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you!” Dick pulls something out of the bag. “Look, I brought stuff to make s'mores!”

“Cool, hand them over” Jason grabs for the bag of marshmallows only for Dick to pull them away.

“Not yet, they’re for our last day. Gotta ration out the food.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Why not bring enough for every night?”

“Cause then it’s less special,” Dick answers sagely. “Think about it like a prize for surviving camping.”

Because Jason is the generous sort, he doesn’t even make a crack about “surviving”.

“So, okay, let’s say I buy that camping is a vacation,” he says instead between bites.

“It is a vacation.”

“Yeah, fine, sure. Real question though, why are we taking a vacation?” He waves a hand. “What ever happened to ‘crime never sleeps’ and everything?”

“I’ve never said that!”

“You said it to Babs last week!”

“That was so she’d help me run the Poison Ivy samples! That doesn’t count! She didn’t even believe me!”

“Definitely counts!”

Dick rolls his eyes. “You know most kids don’t need a reason to go on vacation before school starts.”

“So, that’s what this is,” Jason accuses. “This is for you! You wanted a vacation before college!”

Dick turns his face down to poke at the fire. “I’m not going to college...not this year anyway.”

Jason frowns. “I thought you got accepted to Gotham U. Shit, I know you did. Alfred still has the letter hanging on the fridge.”

Dick shrugs. “I’m going to turn it down. There’s too much going on right now. Gotham. The Titans. I’ve gotta start sitting in at the Wayne Enterprise meetings soon, too. I don’t have time for classes.”

“Pretty sure, the classes would help with the Wayne Enterprise crap,” Jason says. “And you know Roy and Donna can help with the Titans and Babs and I can cover more in Gotham if--”

“Jay, it’s fine,” Dick cuts him off. “I need to choose what to focus on and it just can’t be college right now. It’s okay.”

Jason wants to argue more but then Dick’s continuing

“And, hey, I know camping’s not exactly your thing; but, I’m glad you decided to come anyway.” Dick gives him a blinding grin. “You deserve to do some normal summer stuff after all the Robin training. And I’m glad I get to spend some time with my favorite little brother.

Jason glares, ignoring the way his cheeks have gone warm. “Shut up, I’m your only brother. And you know I hate it when you say stuff like that.”

“No, you don’t,” Dick says, shit eating grin in place.

Jason flings the bag of hot dog buns at him.

He catches it, still grinning. The asshole.

-----

Something that’s always jarring but becomes really fucking obvious once he thinks about it is the fact that Dick gets nightmares.

Of course, he does. How could he not? Jason’s doesn’t know why he never expects it.

It’s not even loud nightmares with like screaming and flailing arms and shit. It’s just these short, sharp little gasps as his body goes entirely too stiff and face twists in pain. Sometimes, Jason thinks that’s worse than screaming.

Jason shifts in his sleeping bag, turning to face the top of the tent. He briefly contemplates waking Dick up; but, he knows from experience, it won’t help much. Better to let him get some rest until the nightmare goes away on its own.

Only problem is that Jason still can’t fall asleep. It’s kind of funny. He’s never really thought of himself as a picky sleeper before. Fuck knows he’s slept on way too many of Gotham’s mold infested roofs back when his dad was on parole. But, there’s something about the cold feeling of hard dirt that he swears he can feel even under the layers of sleeping bag and tent.

Camping sucks.

Screw it. Jason’s not just going to lay here all night. Least he can do is get up and explore around the campsite so he can have a better idea of whatever “fun” activities he’s sure Dick has planned for tomorrow.

He slips out of the tent without waking up Dick--which actually does serve as a fairly good challenge for his new Robin training--and heads into the woods, careful to keep note of how far away he goes from camp. He feels ridiculously like he should have bread crumbs or some other kind of fairy tale stuff to track his way through the forest.

He swears if he survived living in Crime Alley, Black Mask, and a freaking explosion just to get lost and die in the woods, he’s going to haunt Dick forever. Jason the Unfriendly Ghost.

He gets to the stream that he and Dick found earlier so at least he’s not that lost.

SNAP!

Jason’s head whips around in the direction of the noise.

Nothing.

He lets out a long breath. Dumb, of course, it’s nothing. It’s the forest. Forests make weird noises. It’s reason #357 why they’re terrible.

SNAP!

Okay...that definitely sounded like something big….but, maybe it’s something normal like a tree branch snapping or--

Snap!...Snap!...Snap!

That’s footsteps.

Jason moves back into the tree line, crouching down until he’s covered in the darkness of the bushes. His hands run over the ground, trying to find anything even remotely useful other than a slightly pointy stick.

Snap!...Snap!

Shit, he really is going to die here, isn’t he? In this stupid forest before he even gets to go out as Robin. Of all the dumb fucking--

Snap!...snap!...snap...snap.

The footsteps are getting further away. Echoing deeper and deeper into the forest on the other side of the stream.

snap...snap...snap…

Jason listens, in slight amazement, as the sounds slowly fade off into the distance until they finally disappear. Slowly, Jason counts in his mind to sixty, then a hundred and twenty, then two hundred.

On three hundred, he bolts--tearing through the forest in the direction of the camp until he finally catches sight of the obnoxiously bright yellow of the tent Dick bought, shining in front of him like a heavenly beacon.

He tears through the opening, breathing heavily, just a half a second before there’s an arm jammed hard against his neck.

“Jay?”

The pressure disappears and then Dick’s looking down at him with wide eyes and a slight blush. “Sorry about that. Was surprised. What’s wrong?”

Jason’s heart rate’s finally slowing down. And here in the safety of the tent, in the face of Dick’s patented concerned face, admitting to getting freaked out by noises in the woods seems beyond stupid.

“Nothing,” he mutters. “Just thought I heard something?”

“Heard something?”

“Yeah, like footsteps.”

Dick frowns. “We’re on private camp land. There shouldn’t be anyone around here. You sure?”

Jason shakes his head, face feeling hot, as he sits back down on his sleeping bag. “No. Don’t worry about it. Like I said, it was probably nothing. Maybe it’s just a mountain lion that’s gonna eat us in our sleep.”

Dick pats his shoulder. “Mountain lions don’t really live in this region, Jay.”

Jason rolls his eyes before turning over pointedly to try to get some more sleep.

“It’s bears you need to worry about.”

#atfo

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slytherinbarnes · 4 years

Text

Sub Rosa [8]

viii. day trip

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Language, character death, violence, fighting, blood, injuries. Allusion to past assault.

Summary: You and Bellamy go on a little day trip, even though you’d rather be with anyone other than him.

a/n: oh hey, I like this chapter! also, pls no one worry bc I WILL NEVER KILL BELLAMY BLAKE FOR THIS SERIES! happy endsings only (but don’t let that fool you, bc we got angst angst ansgt on the way!) also join the taglist here!

previous chapter // season masterlist // series masterlist

You stand back and admire your handiwork of the repairs to the wall, satisfied with its hold. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you move over to the water containers and grab something to drink. Clarke finds you leaned up against a tree, drinking water, and she walks over with a small smile. “I’m heading to the tent to talk to the council, if you want to join.”

You shake your head, “I’m not sure I can look at Jaha’s face without screaming. I’ll probably just check on Octavia, if that's okay.”

She nods, “Of course. I think she’s still in the dropship, waiting to visit the Grounder.”

You stand and nod towards the tent, “Let me know how it all goes.”

“I will.” She offers you one last smile before ducking into the tent to face the council.

You glance around the busy camp, watching the teenagers as they move around, repairing the wall and preparing for winter. Sure that they can handle it, you turn and head to the dropship, unsurprised to find Octavia plopped down near the ladder, waiting to see the Grounder. You smile as you approach, “Visiting hours over?”

She lets out a huff of frustration as you settle down beside her. “Yes. Bellamy won’t let anyone up except for Miller.”

“I wonder if I could-”

Bellamy’s voice cuts you off, “You’re still here?”

He descends the ladder, feet hitting the floor, and you notice his eyes shift over to you before landing on Octavia again. Her eyes slide away from him and land on the wall, annoyed. “I’m not moving until you let me up there to see him.”

“Get comfortable,” he quips back.

Noting the tension, you stand and silently move away from the siblings and over to the dropship door, eyes scanning the camp. You spot your twin immediately, headed your way, looking troubled. She comes to a stop at the door, and you tune out the bickering siblings behind you as you ask, “How was the meeting with the council?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Jaha tried to lecture me about forgiveness.”

“Good thing I missed it then.”

“No kidding. But,” she holds up a map and a set of coordinates. “There is potential good news.”

She hands you the paper and you look over it as she continues, “It’s supposed to be an old emergency aid depot, built to withstand nuclear war. It could shelter us from the cold.”

You start to hand her back the map, “You going to check it out?”

“No,” she pushes the map back your way. “You’re going to check it out.”

Your brows lift in surprise, “Me?”

“You’ve been out there more, and you know the terrain better. Plus, I have to keep an eye on Finn, he’s not out of danger yet.”

“Okay, I’ll pack a bag then.”

You start to walk away, but she grabs your arm, stopping you. “Wait. There is one more thing.”

She looks over your shoulder, eyes locking with someone, before she nods them over. As you hear footsteps approach, she sighs, “I want you to take Bellamy with you.”

You pull a face and step back, as he stops beside you. You glance up at him and back at your twin. “No way. No.”

“What’s going on?”

You ignore him and glare at Clarke as she insists, “You’re the only two I trust with this, and I know that you’ll keep each other safe.” She squeezes your arm lightly and adds, “You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.”

You glare at her for a moment before letting out a sigh. “Fine.” You redirect your glare to Bellamy, “Be ready in ten, I’ll meet you by the gate.”

“Ready for what?”

“Clarke will explain.” And with that, you walk off, grabbing a pack and your knife on the way. You stop at the food station and grab a few rations before making a beeline for the gate. As soon as you arrive, you spot Bellamy already waiting, stuffing a bunch of rations deeper into his pack. You give him a sidelong glance and brush past, “Let’s go.”

Unlike your previous outings with Bellamy, this one is largely spent in angry silence as you navigate through the woods and pointedly ignore Bellamy. As you climb down a grassy hill, you pull out a pack of nuts and eat them quickly, noticing that Bellamy is trailing behind you, doing the same. As you reach the bottom of the hill, it starts to slope upwards again and you check the map before continuing. When you reach the top, you pause, and Bellamy stops beside you.

In the distance, there’s a large house, destroyed by the nuclear apocalypse. You start to feel uneasy as you take in the burned out house, situated behind a dark lake. You glance at Bellamy, “The depot is supposed to be around here somewhere.”

You watch him scan the area again, “Let's just split up, cover more ground. Stay within shouting distance.”

You walk off down the hill, towards the lake, while Bellamy moves parallel to the house, both of you in search of a door. Only a few minutes pass before your foot lands on something with a metallic thunk. Confused, you step back and brush the leaves and debris away, revealing a door. You smile to yourself and call out, “Bellamy! Over here, I found a door!”

A second later he approaches you, stopping beside you at the door. You lean down and pull on the handles with all of your strength, but it doesn’t budge. You look up at him, “I think it's rusted shut.”

“Here. Watch your foot.” He pulls out his axe and uses it to break the lock, before muttering, “Give me a hand.”

You both pull on the door, and this time it swings open with a creak. You peer into the ominous darkness and pull out two lights, turning to hand one to Bellamy. With a deep breath of courage, you descend the stairs, Bellamy close behind. You follow the stairs deeper into the depot, deeper into the darkness, pausing when you see a skeleton sitting on the stairs. Bellamy stops behind you, so close that you can feel his breath shift the hairs on your neck. You shiver and squeeze past the body as he mutters, “Hell of a place to die.”

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, and shine the light around, disappointment flows through your body. Cobwebs hang over everything, accompanied by a thick layer of dust. A damp chill hangs in the air, and you both have to step around fallen and scavenged supplies. “This place is disgusting.”

Bellamy hums in agreement. “Anything left down here is ruined.”

Water rains down from the ceiling in front of you, and you cringe and skirt around it, looking at the picked over shelves. You lift the lid of a box in front of you and smile at the contents inside, “Hey, I found blankets.”

“Excited about a couple of blankets?”

You toss a glare at him over your shoulder, “It’s something.”

He storms past you, dropping glow sticks that he found as his voice rises in anger, “How about a canteen or a med kit or a decent fricking tent?”

He lets out a yell of frustration and kicks an oil drum over, the black liquid spilling towards you. You turn in surprise, your shock only growing as you hear something clatter to the ground. Your eyes lock on the pile of guns now spilled out over the floor, and you and Bellamy lock eyes, mouths spreading into a grin.

He grabs a couple and pushes past you, back to the blankets, pulling one from the container. He shifts everything over to one arm and grabs you as he walks by, dragging you with him. You yank your arm free and freeze in place, watching as he uses some dirt to spread a target on the blanket before hanging it up. “This changes everything. No more running from spears.”

You lift a gun from beside you, eyeing it carefully. He grins as he stops beside you, watching as you load the gun. “Ready to be a badass?” You roll your eyes and he steps towards you, “We're lucky the rifles were packed in grease. The fact that they survived means we're not sitting ducks anymore. You need to learn how to do this.”

You let out a sigh, “Fine.” He moves out of the way, allowing you to step up to the target, lifting the gun with hesitation. You glance down at the gun, and then over your shoulder to look at him. “So I just hold it on my shoulder?”

“Yeah.” He steps closer to you, folding his left hand over yours where it sits on the grip, and placing his right hand on your right shoulder. He guides the gun up, “Just a little higher now.”

You lean down and peer through the scope, trying to ignore the way his breath shifts your hair and his hand slowly slides from your shoulder and down your back. Another chill runs down your spine and Bellamy doesn’t miss it. And then he’s stepping back and shaking his head as if he’s clearing his thoughts, “Yeah. Uh, that's good. Watch and learn.”

He steps away and grabs a gun of his own, before moving up beside you and pulling the trigger. You hear a click echo in the small space, but stand there confused as nothing else happens. Bellamy reloads the gun and pulls the trigger a second time, but the gun offers nothing more than another click. You let out a snort and he turns to glare at you as you openly smile at his expense. “Still watching.”

He glares at you harder, “My bullets are duds. Try yours.”

You lift the gun and settle it to the place on your shoulder, where Bellamy instructed, before looking through the scope and pulling the trigger. The sound of the gunshot rings through the room, and you stand tall and admire the new hole in the blanket. You let out a laugh in amazement and turn to him, finding that his face is already split in a smile.

You let the smile drop when you remember your anger, but you don’t turn away from him. “I guess we’re going to have to talk to Clarke and decide where we’re going to keep these and who has access.”

He ignores you and raises his gun, pulling the trigger, and stepping back as the sound echoes in the room. You spot the hole he leaves in the target, near the middle. As you’re about to comment on it, he turns to you suddenly. “You should keep Miller close. The others listen to him.”

Your brows draw together in confusion. “I should keep him close? Bellamy, what's going on?”

You stare him down and he shifts beneath your gaze, uncomfortable. A lightbulb goes off in your head when you remember the rations from earlier, “All the rations you took. You're gonna run! You were gonna load up on supplies and just disappear.”

“I don't have a choice. The Ark will be here soon.”

You step closer to him, “So you're just gonna leave Octavia?”

Bellamy shakes his head, “Octavia hates me.” He pauses and his voice drops to a whisper, “You hate me.”

He shakes his head again and takes in a breath, “She’s gonna be fine.”

“You don't know-”

He cuts you off, “I shot the chancellor. They're gonna kill me. Best-case scenario, they lock me up with the Grounder for the rest of my life, and there's no way in hell I'm giving Jaha the satisfaction.” He slams the gun down and throws his hands up in frustration, “Keep practicing. I need some air.”

He brushes past you, leaving you alone in the depot. You stand there for a minute, looking around, before lifting the gun back up and aiming at the target. As you do, you watch as the target melts away, taking the bullet holes with it, leaving the blanket untouched. You lower the gun in confusion and back away, jumping in surprise as you feel the gun bend in your touch. You throw it to the ground and step back from it, turning to look around in confusion as the space around you transforms into your cell in the Skybox.

You feel panic rise in your chest as the prison stares back at you, mocking you. You back away in horror, jumping in surprise when your back collides with someone. You spin around, and come face to face with your father.

You feel your lip quiver with emotion as you whisper, “Dad?”

He smiles and you jump towards him, sighing in relief as his arms wrap around you tightly. You bury your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent of Ark soap and grease. As you pull him tighter, the memory of his death flashes across your mind, and you feel your stomach drop. You pull back slowly and watch him closely, “You're not real, are you?”

“Sorry, kiddo. I wish I were.”

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts, before looking around at your cell. “Wait. How is this possible?”

“I'm thinking why is more important than how. Why me?”

Tears well up in your eyes, “Because I miss you. And I never got to say goodbye.”

He shakes his head and reaches up to brush your necklace, “Think there's more to it than that.”

You hear his voice in your head, disconnected from a memory. My girls. My sun, my moon, my stars.

You feel your face harden at the thought of her. The thought of what she did. “You want me to forgive her.”

“Your mom loves you both. Everything she does, she does for you two.”

You turn away from him, and plop down onto your bed. “She betrayed you. How can I forgive her for that?” He pulls a face, and it’s one you recognize well. “The disappointed look isn't fair. I'm trying.”

He reaches out and pulls you to him, into a hug. “Come here. I know, honey. It's been tough, hasn't it?”

You feel emotion tighten your throat, “I watched as someone got tortured. Said awful things to Clarke. Caused the Culling on the Ark…”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you recount your sins, and your father leans down to kiss your head. “You're doing the best you can.”

“You want me to say mom did the best she could.”

His face softens, “This is about what you want.”

“You're dead because of her. She doesn't deserve my forgiveness. Our forgiveness.”

He shakes his head softly, and comes to stand in front of you, “Listen to me. Forgiveness isn't about what people deserve.”

Before you can respond, his eyes lift sharply, and you swear you hear muffled yelling nearby. He looks back at you, and lifts a hand to your face. “My little la lune. He needs you.”

Seconds later, something collides with the back of your head, sending you tumbling down a tunnel of black.

You pull your eyes open, groaning against the sharp pain radiating from the base of your skull. You rub your eyes and struggle to recall what happened, letting out a quiet gasp when you remember your dad’s final words. He needs you.

Bellamy.

You stand, fighting against the pain in your body, and stumble towards the gun you tossed down earlier, grabbing it quickly. You run towards the stairs and out into the night, following the sounds of yelling nearby. As you get closer, you see Bellamy on the ground, looking up at Dax, who is pointing a gun down at him. You stumble up behind them and aim the gun at the middle of his back, before yelling, “Put it down, Dax.”

He spins, “Should've stayed down there. I tried not to kill you, but here you are, and Shumway said no witnesses.”

Your blood freezes at the name, and you lock eyes with Bellamy. You take a deep breath, willing the fear to leave your body as you look back at Dax. “I won’t tell you again, put it down.”

“Walk away now, and I won't kill you.” When you stay locked in place, he shrugs. “Your choice.”

You pull the trigger, but the gun clicks, and your blood goes cold at the sound. You dive to the left, behind a tree, seconds before you hear Dax’s gun go off. He misses, but you hear Bellamy yell in anger before colliding with Dax, the sound of them fighting reaching you behind the tree. You tug on the gun, trying to reload, before giving up and jumping up from behind the tree, and running at Dax with the gun raised to use as a bat. “Get the hell off him!”

Just as you reach him, Dax spins and hits you with the butt end of the rifle, right in the stomach, sending a flood of pain through you as it collides with your wound. You groan and hit the ground, but the distraction gives Bellamy enough time to find a discarded bullet and plunge it into Dax’s neck. You both watch as he bleeds out, struggling and gasping for air, before he hits the ground, dead.

Bellamy stumbles towards you as you drag yourself to the tree, clutching your stomach. You plop down at its base as he lowers himself beside you, his hand on your thigh as you both pant from exertion. You grit your teeth against the pain and lean towards him, putting your hand on his arm. “You're okay.”

“No, I'm not.” He shakes his head, and you watch tears well up in his eyes. “My mother...If she knew what I've done, who I am...She raised me to be better, to be good.”

You try to cut him off, “Bellamy-”

“And all I do is hurt people.” He lets out a sniffle as the tears spill over his cheeks. “I'm a monster.”

“Hey.” You squeeze his arm and he turns to look at you, “You saved my life today. And ten other times. You may be a total ass half the time, but I need you.” His eyes widen slightly and you continue, “We all need you. You want forgiveness, fine, I'll give it to you. You're forgiven, okay? But you have to come back with me.”

“Jaha will kill me when he comes down.”

You shake your head, “We'll figure something out.”

He lets out a deep breath, “Can we figure it out later?”

You nod and let your head drop to his shoulder, whispering, “Whenever you're ready.”

You both sit in silence for a few minutes before you whisper, “I saw my dad.” He shifts beneath you and you lift your head to look at him. “I mean, I know it wasn’t him, but this time I got to say goodbye.”

Unsure what to say, he chooses instead to say nothing, and you lean back against the tree, looking at the stars. Your eyes find Orion quickly, and you whisper, “See those three stars in a row up there?”

You see Bellamy nod out of the corner of your eye. “That’s Orion’s Belt.” You lift your hand and trace the rest of the constellation. “And that’s Orion the Hunter.”

You turn towards him slightly, a small smile on your face. “They say Artemis, the goddess of the moon and the hunt, fell in love with Orion. And Apollo, her twin, was worried she was going to give up her vow of chastity for him. So one day, when Orion was swimming far out into the ocean, Apollo called to his twin. He pointed to a rock near the horizon, and dared her that she couldn’t hit it. Of course, Artemis hit it easily. But imagine her horror when Orion’s body washes up on the beach, and she realized what she had done. She put him up in the stars after that.” You turn and look at him. “I wonder if she takes comfort in knowing that he’s always up there.”

You look away and back up at the stars, both of you sitting in silence. After checking your bandage and watching the moon rise higher, you mutter, “We should probably get back.”

“Yeah, we probably should.”

He stands and helps to pull you to your feet, before leading you back down into the depot, and gathering the guns and blankets. You both tie up a sack a piece of weapons, and head back to camp, walking through the woods in a comfortable silence, interrupted only to discuss what’s next.

As you near the camp, you hear the sounds of fighting from within. You and Bellamy walk faster, pushing through the gates just as someone asks, “What if he brings other Grounders back?”

Just then, Bellamy pushes through the crowd, before stopping in the middle. “Let the Grounders come. We've been afraid of them for far too long, and why? Because of their knives and spears. I don't know about you. I'm tired of being afraid.”

You both drop the sacks, revealing the guns to a camp of excited teenagers. You catch Clarke’s eye across camp, and sense her hesitation, but she offers you a smile anyways. Bellamy continues, “There are plenty more where these came from. Tomorrow we start training, and if the Grounders come, we're gonna be ready to fight.”

Excitement ripples through the camp, and you give Bellamy a nod before walking over to your twin. “I need you to set up a meeting with Jaha for me and Bellamy.”

Her brows lift in surprise, “Uh, yeah. Of course. Just give me a few minutes.”

You nod and look around in search of Bellamy, spotting him near the edge of camp, draping a blanket around Octavia. You watch with a smile, and when they seem finished, you call out to him. “Bellamy.”

He turns and looks at you, and you give a nod in confirmation. He heads over to you, following you to the tent. Clarke steps out and gives you a smile, squeezing your hand quickly as she passes.

You both step inside and settle down side by side, pulling on the headsets to chat with the waiting Jaha. When you’re both ready, his eyes go straight to Bellamy. “Mr. Blake, I've wanted to talk to you for some time now.”

You cut in, “Before you do, I'd like to say something. When you sent us down here, you sent us to die, but miraculously, most of us are still alive. In large part, that is because of him, because of Bellamy.” You both lock eyes, before you turn back to Jaha. “He's one of us, and he deserves to be pardoned of his crimes just like the rest of us.”

“I appreciate your point of view, but it's not that simple.”

“It is.” Bellamy offers, matter of fact. “If you want to know who on The Ark wants you dead.”

Jaha considers this for a moment, and each passing second feels like a minute. He leans forward, looking at you. “You're pardoned for your crimes.” He turns to Bellamy. “Bellamy Blake, you’re pardoned for your crimes.”

You both smile in relief, before Jaha continues. “Now, tell me who gave you the gun.”

When the video feed ends, and Jaha disappears from the screen, you and Bellamy exit the tent in silence, before pausing at the door, unsure what to do. Just as you are about to step away, he turns towards you. “Your cut.” You glance up at him. “We need to change the bandage.”

You nod and follow him to his tent, sitting in the same spot as before as he gathers supplies. When he makes his way back to you, you lift your shirt, exposing the bandage. You watch him quietly as he works, removing the bandage, cleaning off the fresh blood. Only breaking the silence to ask, “What if they don’t float him?”

He looks up at you, confused, and you add, “Shumway, I mean.”

“They will.” He goes back to your wound, nearly done cleaning it up.

You press, “Yeah, but what if they don’t?”

He looks up, sensing something in your tone, and meets your eyes. You take in a sharp breath, and look away. “There’s something about Shumway that I haven’t told you before. Something I haven’t told anyone.”

He picks up the bandage, wrapping it around your middle, afraid to interrupt you. You pick at your nail as you whisper, “I was arrested a few days before my dad was. But I didn’t know that until Shumway came in my cell one day to gloat. He told me that my dad had been arrested for treason and was going to get floated for it. He said he was getting floated in half an hour.”

You hear Bellamy’s sharp intake of breath and he leans away from you to meet your eyes. “Shumway wanted to know what I would do in order to see my dad one last time. What would I give him in order to say goodbye to my father. I didn’t hesitate, I told him ‘anything’. As soon as I said it, I knew I had made a deal with the devil.”

You pause, lip quivering. “I knew that I just gave him what he wanted all along. He cuffed me and led me through the Ark, taking me to see my dad.” Your voice breaks on the last word, and tears spill down your cheeks. “I didn’t make it in time. Right as I came around the corner, we locked eyes, and they pushed-”

You cut yourself off, crying harder, and Bellamy puts his hand over yours, offering comfort. You gather yourself and push on, “I was pissed. I knew that Shumway got me there late on purpose, because that’s the kind of man that he is. I raised hell, got shocked and dragged all the way back to my cell, before they decided to throw me in solitary, permanently, because I was just too much to manage.”

You shake your head, “Solitary made it that much easier for Shumway to get what he wanted. No one listens to the cries of a problem child. No one listened when I said he came into my cell, and abused me.” You look up and lock eyes with Bellamy, finding a fire of anger burning there. “That day you found us, I thought he was gonna-” You shake your head, “Right then and there in the hallway.”

Bellamy is quiet for a second, and you see a muscle in his jaw clench and his eyes grow hard. “If he’s alive when they make it to the ground...I’ll kill him myself.”

next chapter

#bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake fanfictio #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction

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lutrain2020 · 4 years

Text

Meet the Creator!

Introducing: Squido!

Commission: I haven't and don't really intend to. I don't want to take anyone's hard-earned money. Just ask me to draw things and there's a good chance I will.

Social Media: Tumblr: @sky-squido AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_squido/pseuds/sky_squido

Tell us a little bit about yourself!

Call me Squido! I love to draw and write but I'm also super extraverted and I love interacting with humans so always feel free to chat with me! Aside from drawing and writing, I just love being outside and have a tumblr sideblog dedicated exclusively to nature photos I take. I love mountains, the ocean, the sky, and just about everything else in this beautiful world of ours! If you ever feel like having an internet stranger give you a thousand word rant, ask me why my favorite color is blue and you will not be disappointed!

What got you into creating? what inspires you to keep creating?

I've been drawing for as long as I can remember and can't seem to stop, though I take long breaks sometimes I always seem to come back to it again. I try not to have anything in mind when I draw, but to start sketching and let the drawing happen. Sometimes I find that what I'm trying to draw is not what my drawing wants to be (if that makes any sense) and change what I'm making halfway through. It makes drawing a really relaxing and carefree therapeutic experience! Writing is different. I've always enjoyed writing, but I didn't write much and never shared my writing with anyone because I thought it was super pretentious. It wasn't until entering High School and joining the literature club and making a deal with a friend that we'd share our writing with each other that I actually gained any sort of confidence in my ability and sought to improve it. Being in that club and sharing my pieces at the open mics was a really encouraging experience! I invite everyone to share their writing, even if it's with some random internet stranger (I'm open anytime!) if they're unsure of their abilities. A little encouragement goes a long way! Now that I'm on Discord, ao3, and tumblr, I receive so much more feedback than I ever have before! It's been super encouraging! What inspires me most is definitely nature. Even if my ideas aren't directly related to the outdoors, I get my best ideas there. Fandoms are also a great idea generator. The sheer volume of headcanons and prompts is enough to make me dizzy with ideas!

What's your creative process like?

I love sketching. My favorite thing about drawing digitally is that I can sketch as much as I like and never worry about wasting materials! Often times my sketches turn themselves into drawings without permission and other times they stubbornly remain sketches for all eternity. I always dive right in because I have no patience and the idea I started out with generally isn't that great but in the process of pursuing it, it spirals out of control and sometimes the idea gets better and sometimes it gets worse but I just kinda roll with it. Creating is a really chill process for me and while I regularly scream stuff like "I'M DRAWING ON THE WRONG LAYER NONONONONONO" or "NO HECK FRICK SHOOT IT SMUDGED HECK HECK GET THE ERASER QUICK," the creative process is a great way for me to unwind. I'm the same way about writing. I never plan or outline and just kind of roll with things. I mean I generally have the basic jist in mind, but I try to not have a plan so I can keep the story driven by the characters and not force them into acting the way I wanted them to in the outline I made hours or even days ago. Creating is my opportunity to break free so I don't really see what good a plan or outline does me. I'm a pretty spontaneous person!

What kind of mediums do you like to use?

I like to take pictures, but it's not really my main focus. I've been mostly digitally drawing—I use my iPad Pro and Procreate—but lately I've been pencil sketching with just your average everyday mechanical pencil (I'd forgotten how nice the texture of paper was! Clearly I spent too much time drawing on my iPad!). I have these Stabilio chalk pastels I love to pieces, but have also spent a great deal of time with watercolors. Digital is my primary medium currently, though.

Is there a specific scene wrote that you are particularly proud of?

"Sky’s golden scales are glowing with reflected light from the sun while beneath them, the same pulsing blue in her mane runs like a river as her very skin is alive with electricity. The sun’s beginning to dip, fading through the color wheel from yellow to deep orange to scarlet and the world is bathed in watercolor and hue shifted through the rainbow until all that was blue becomes red. This new alien world begins to darken as red fades to deep purple-pink, the clouds catching last vestiges of gold in their pillowy folds, yet Sky continues rippling with lighting, the bright blue flowing like blood through her veins and the gold shimmering in the eerie azure glow. We weave through the winds and zephyrs and I close my eyes and let the breeze caress my hair and when I reopen them, I’m standing back on the ground again in a world long since darkened by night. I place my hand over my beating heart where Sky is still laughing with joy and smile because once you’ve awakened your dragon, you don’t need wings to fly anymore."

Is there someone who inspires you and your writing or art?

Every fanartist and fanfic writer that posts their stuff online is an inspiration to me. Even if their stuff isn't very good—especially if it isn't very good—it's a huge testament to the courage of the creator and their bravery in expressing themself! I sat on fanfic and fanart for years and never shared it and here were kids half my age putting out art that was their first experiment in a new medium and a little shaky but it was still out there and they were still being supported by the community and that really inspired me to reach out and stop lurking in fandom and actually get involved!

is there something that you struggled with that made you grow as a creator?

I feel like everyone has these periods where they were just gaining confidence in their artistic ability but suddenly everything they make is trash and they're not happy with any of it and they feel so down and worthless and "where did all of my hard-earned ability go? Will I ever get it back?" I think this is a pretty common experience and when I find myself there, I find it most helpful to share what I make anyway, even if I hate it, with someone who I know will give it to me straight because they'll point out the deeper problems—the root of the issue—that I hadn't even noticed and I can use that information to grow as an artist. Bad pieces are just as valuable as good ones. There was also a time where I had a lot of trouble developing a style. I did a lot of experimenting and never found anything I liked. What happened is I just kept drawing and whatever popped out eventually evolved into my style. I used to get frustrated that I couldn't draw anything without a reference, but after years and years of using references and drawing some of the same things over and over again, you won't need the references anymore. I mean, they're great and you should always feel free to use them, but over time, you won't need to look up a picture of every little thing you try to doodle.

What got you into writing or art?

My silly twitchy fingers can't ever seem to stop drawing! Same with writing. Words and ideas follow me around, little plot bunnies pestering me until they get written down somewhere. I was greatly inspired by the works of C.S. Lewis in my writing, especially his Cosmic Trilogy. My art style was aided by Hiromu Arakawa's Fullmetal Alchemist, which was a valuable stepping stone in developing my own style. Other than that, it was my own insatiable desire to MAKE THINGS that spurred me onwards. I don't think I could stop if I tried!

What's your favorite part of the creative process?

After you've got that first paragraph and you've found a flow and you've got a topic and you just GO. I get into the zone and the story starts happening on its own and I'm not an author anymore, I'm just a channel between the world of the piece and the page. That's my favorite. I love watching things take shape. I love shading a sketch for these same reasons. The whole drawing comes together and becomes A Thing and it's the most exciting time to be a creator. Something else inside you has taken over and you're just along for the ride. I have no idea if my experiences are common at all but this is what it's like for me!

What's your least favorite part of the creative process?

EDITING. I HAVE ZERO PATIENCE. THE THING IS DONE. WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP LOOKING AT IT. CAN I POST IT YET. This leaves me with a lot of holes in what I make and I can't do a very clean, super detailed drawing unless it's for an art class and I'm forced to keep working on it. I have a terrible habit of never proofreading my things!

What's your favorite type of scene to write?

AAH hard question! I love writing description and places where I can really let my inner 19th century romantic be unleashed but I also love a good emotional moment between two characters. Something tense. I like fight scenes, but I try to keep them brief and interesting. Sometimes I find scenes where I have no idea what's going on and I try to avoid that, but it's really hard sometimes.

What's the hardest for you to create?

I have so much trouble with endings. I can generally figure something out, but there's always a moment of panic before the end like "heck I wrote everything I wanted how do I wrap this up????" That's probably a byproduct of me planning nothing XD I sometimes have trouble with characterization and making sure everyone acts the way they actually would. The hardest part is continuing after you have an "oh heck what do I do now" moment that breaks you out of your zone and all of your ideas and plot threads turn invisible or evaporate or go wherever it is they go when you're looking for them.

What's your favorite genre to write?

ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST. Wellll... scratch that. I love something adventure-y and plot driven with a lot of really meaningful character interactions. I've always had trouble putting my writing into genres, but I guess that kind of speaks for itself in a way.

What fandoms do you enjoy creating for?

Linked Universe is the fandom I have created and posted the most for by a LONG SHOT. I found LU shortly after making my tumblr and I joined the Discord shortly thereafter. Since then, it has been nonstop inspiration and creativity for me! I tend to get sucked into one fandom and it consumes me for a few months before I silently drift out of it and never think about it again. LU is the fandom I've been the most active in EVER though—and it's still going—so there's a good chance I'm never getting off this ride.

What's the work you are most proud of?

AAAAAAAAAAH MY BABIES. okay um here's the first and only fanfic I've ever posted anywhere but I'm really happy with: https://sky-squido.tumblr.com/post/618964544219463680/turn-back-time-a-linked-universe-fanfic I have a lot of other pieces kicking about, but they're not fandom so I haven't shared them yet. I probably will after I touch them up a bit.

Do you have any fics inspired by real life stories?

Not really? I don't really know where my ideas come from to be honest!

Where do you post your finished works?

my tumblr. I tag stuff #squido writes and #squido draws so you can find them easily. I also put them on the discord but they get lost in the stream of other works pretty quickly so stick to my tumblr. I also have an ao3 now! https://archiveofourown.org/users/sky_squido

If you have any fun stories about the pieces you made, please do share!

Turn Back Time was actually live written in the Discord, but entirely unplanned and in the #angst channel! It was just a headcanon but then I started describing it and like 2 hours and 5k words later I'm sitting in the Discord like "what just happened??"

#Meet The Creator #lutrain2020 #linkeduniverse #lu

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luxexhomines · 4 years

Note

if requests are open, may i ask for ouma and saihara (separately) getting their nails painted by their s/o and the whole time they’re like “hOLY fRiCK dUDE HOLY FRIcK-“ and blushy n stuff but their s/o is just completely and utterly oblivious? thank you c:

Thank you for the request, sweet anon! To be honest, I don’t feel as though I’ve done the prompt justice, but here it is anyway. I kind of forgot about the oblivious part, oops… Your request came after requests had been closed, but I didn’t delete any of the ones I’d gotten for some time after I’d closed them, so today after I looked around my inbox, I thought maybe I’d fulfill this one. Icon credit to danganronpaicons! I used their surnames in the writing since your request used their surnames, so I hope that’s okay- I never know whether to refer to them by their first names or surnames. I can change it if you’d like. Here’s your request, under the cut, since it’s a little long.

—–

Kokichi & Shuichi x Crush! Reader Painting Nails

Kokichi Ouma

Ouma was currently sitting in front of you, his hand cradled gently by yours as you concentrated and carefully painted a layer of purple nail polish on his index finger. Grape Panta purple, to be exact.

He couldn’t quite remember how he’d got into this situation- did it even matter, anyhow?

He tried to keep the red from tingeing his pale cheeks as he stared at you blankly. If he were a robot, this would be the moment he overheated. What’s that, you say? Why make a fuss over getting his nails painted? The point was not that his nails were being painted. The point was that his nails were being painted by you, his crush, the one and only.

He thought he might faint, but that would be much too out-of-character for someone like him. He’d leave all the fainting and daintiness to Saihara.

“Alright, that’s one hand done,” you exclaimed happily. “I was so nervous, I thought my heart would burst!” you looked him in the eye and beamed at him.

Perhaps he should get a pair of sunglasses, Ouma thought to himself. Not that it would actually help prevent him from falling further in love with you. He offered his usual smile- or at least, what he hoped was his usual smile -and leaned in slightly.

“How does this work? Should I paint your nails, too?”

You laugh. God, that was such a beautiful sound- like the trickling bubbles of the river, or perhaps the singing of the birds. Was Ouma being sickeningly cheesy and overly poetic for no reason? Probably. Not that he minded. It was a natural reaction to being around you, after all. How anyone spent time around you without acting the way he did and thinking the things he did was a wonder to him.

“No, that’s alright,” you reply, grinning. “I somehow have the inkling that you’d get the nail polish all over me and my clothes, probably on purpose.”

He arches an eyebrow, amused.

“You really have so little faith in me? Nishishishi,” he nickered. “I promise I won’t,” he says in a rather sincere manner, which was a miracle in its own way. He supposed being around you just made miracles like that happen.

A corner of your lips raises, and you display a lopsided smile.

“Only if you pinky promise,” you say, giggling.

He sighs and shrugs.

“Fine, if it’ll get you to believe me,” he says in a mock-show of disappointment and betrayal.

He holds out his pinky, the one that hadn’t been painted yet- after all, the other one was still drying after you’d applied the polish -and you hooked your own unpainted pinky around his firmly.

“You promised,” you remind him before letting go. “You’d better be careful. But first, I have to finish painting your other hand!”

He holds out his unpainted fingertips to you, and you hold his hand gently. It was warm, you thought to yourself absent-mindedly before grabbing the bottle of purple nail polish once again and forcing yourself to focus as you painted his thumbnail.

Ouma shivered, and you looked up at him, stifling a chuckle.

“Not used to it?” you jab. “You will be soon, with me around. I’ll paint your nails again after it all chips off.”

He wasn’t sure if he could handle being in such close proximity with you again, but at the same time, he had to thank his lucky stars that you wanted to paint his nails. Either way, it meant he got to spend more time with you.

“I’m not a nail polish maniac like you,” he retorts. “This is the first time I’ve had my nails painted, after all.”

You smile broadly.

“That’s right, I’d forgotten! That’s why I decided to paint your nails,” you declared.

Ouma rolled his eyes playfully.

“Against my will. You dragged me in here kicking and screaming.”

You shake your head as you paint his pinky finger.

“Lies, all of it,” you say, teasing him back.

“When have you known me not to lie?” he smirks. “It’s my trademark.”

You snort.

“I knew you were the devil when I met you. Should’ve kept away. Now it’s too late, and I’m stuck with you for the rest of my life,” you say dramatically.

His heart skips a beat. It was now or never, he thought.

“It’d be nice to spend the rest of my life with you,” he says softly. Oh, the things you did to him- it was hardly a phrase he’d ever imagine himself saying. Maybe in another life, but not as Kokichi Ouma. He waited for your reaction as you capped the purple nail polish bottle and then examined his fingers closely.

“I’m all done! Your fingers are all painted. Aren’t they pretty?” you say excitedly.

Funny. He was sure you’d heard him. He stares at your face pointedly, and it was then that he started to notice the redness of your cheeks. It’d been there all along, actually, but somehow he’d failed to notice it until now. And you looked rather nervous and somewhat giddy. He smiled and licked his lips. It sure was different, being on the other end of having a crush. Especially once you knew it was mutual.

Your eyes flitted around as you stammered, taking note of the silence.

“W-What’s wrong? You don’t like the nail polish?”

He leans in just as you lean backward instinctively, away from him.

“I love it,” he says with a smug smile and watched your expression change as your heart jumped.

“You…you love the nail polish? That’s great,” you babble. “I..next time we’ll switch colors, and maybe I can draw some designs on them too…” You stand and rush to the door in an attempt to escape, but somehow he gets there just as quickly, and soon enough, you’re trapped between the door and Ouma, who’s somehow starting to resemble some kind of predator hunting his prey.

“Don’t run away,” he says, gazing directly into your eyes, and it’s all you can do to keep the heat on your face from rising any further. You gulp.

“What is it…?” you ask, your voice quivering.

He takes your hand in a sensual manner, intertwining his fingers with your own.

“I haven’t painted your nails yet,” he says slyly.

You glance back at the door, wanting to escape as the tension rose, and you tried to answer him, stumbling over your words in an attempt to find an excuse.

“I… There’s… I’ve got to go,” you say. “You can paint my nails another time.”

He sighs dramatically.

“I know you’re lying,” he says with a mischievous smile. You know that smile means trouble, and you press your back to the door. “But I guess I’ll let you go for today,” he concedes. “We’ve got a lot of time, after all. But I’ll just take this first,” he says and leans in, placing a small kiss on your cheek, and you felt yourself stop breathing as the heat that had dissipated rise once again to your face.

“O-Ouma!” you stutter when you find your voice. He smiles in that infuriatingly self-satisfied manner, and you run out the door, a ball of nervous energy, embarrassment, and happiness.

He laughs.

“Now that I know there’s at least something there, I’ll take my time chasing you down,” he says to himself, a smile playing at his lips. “We have all the time in the world for me to make you fall in love with me.“

Shuichi Saihara

“You’ve never had your nails painted before? Want to try?” you say with great enthusiasm, grabbing Saihara’s white, slim fingers. “It would look great on you,” you promise.

Just holding your hands was enough for a blush to rise to his pale cheeks, and he struggled to focus on your words. You were holding his fingers, he thought to himself again. It was hard not to doubt the existence and reality of such a lucky occurrence.

“I, er… I’m not so sure it would look too good on me,” he says apprehensively.

You shake your head adamantly.

“Saihara, it’ll look amazing on you! I can see it now. Come on,” you laugh, carefree, and pull him into your dorm room. He was having a hard time following the events, what with all the sensory overload- first, you’d taken his hands in yours, and then he’d entered your room, which smelt like you and had all your personal effects in it.

“Are you sure?” he tries again, still not convinced.

You pat the chair, signaling for him to sit, and sit across from him, holding a bottle of nail polish.

“I’m sure! I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” you say, your body almost unable to contain the excitement you had.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your energy as you uncap the nail polish bottle.

“Okay, okay, if you say so,” he replies, smiling wryly.

You put your hand out, palm-up, and looked at him expectantly.

“Hand,” you say as if ordering a dog to give you his paw. On command, he gently places his left hand on yours, and you keep it steady as you paint the first layer of nail polish onto his thumbnail. It was colder than he had expected, and he observed your careful precision at work. It was like a dream, having you paint his nails- and being in your room, too, was like a dream.

“Out of curiosity,” Saihara says, “why did you pick the color gold? I would’ve expected something a little more understated for someone like me.”

At those words, your head flicks upward quickly.

“Don’t say ‘someone like me!’” you admonish him. “How many times do I have to remind you? Anyway, the color gold is perfect for you,” you smile. “It’s the color of your eyes,” you peer into said eyes, “which are absolutely stunning.”

He leans back slightly, and the color pink crawls onto his face slowly.

“Thank you?” he says as if asking a question. “I’ve never been told that my eyes were stunning before.”

You hum as you paint his ring finger.

“Well, they are,” you reply, not thinking too much. “You’re the most attractive person I’ve met, actually.”

When you don’t hear him reply, you look up at him only to see a sea of red coloring his cheeks, and his signature ahoge is all bent out of shape. His dark gold eyes, the color of ichor, the blood of gods, were averted from you, and it was then that you realized what you’d said. You subsequently turned a similar color and tried to backtrack- but the damage was done.

“I, uh… I meant that you’re objectively beautiful!” you blurt. Nice save. Not. He glances at you, and you’re suddenly back to painting his nails studiously.

“Oh, I see,” he says, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he sounded disappointed.

“There,” you say, all smiles. “One hand down! Keep it away from stuff so it doesn’t get ruined, and give me your other hand.”

He nods, placing his other hand on yours once again. He thought he might understand why people said they wouldn’t wash their hands after shaking hands with a celebrity now- the feeling was unbelievable, and he wanted to enjoy it as long as possible.

You work in a comfortable silence for some time, and he finds himself drawn to observing each part of you. There was just too much about you that he loved. Being able to be in your presence like this was too good to be true, he thought to himself, but he still valiantly fought the heat from his face.

You finish and cap the bottle of nail polish, standing and putting it away.

“All done! Now you’ve just got to be careful not to ruin it by touching things or doing anything weird,” you say as if prescribing him a treatment.

“Thank you,” he says, standing up as well, and he looks at his painted fingernails closely. “They’re rather pretty.”

You bit your lip lightly and then smiled proudly.

“I did my best! They look better than my nails ever do. Probably because I can do both of your hands with my dominant hand.”

He quirks an eyebrow, intrigued.

“That’s right, I forgot that when you paint your own nails you have to switch hands…”

“Unfortunate but true,” you agree. “It’s alright, though. I do it more for the fun than to look nice,” you admit. “Thanks for trusting me,” you say genuinely.

“Of course,” he says warmly.

It was now or never, you thought to yourself.

And so you leaned in and kissed Saihara on the cheek affectionately.

It took a moment to register- rather, it was funny watching the usually cool-headed and calm detective transform into a young schoolboy once more, and he put a hand to his cheek quietly, mouth slightly open.

“Did you- did I…” he mumbles, and he stares at you as his face rapidly turns redder and redder.

“Did you not like it?” you say innocently, slightly nervous.

Out of all the words to come out of your mouth at that time, he had been expecting something more along the lines of you asking what he meant or maybe something else confirming he’d been hallucinating- but no, here you were, a fond look in your eyes as you looked at him questioningly, blushing slightly.

He summons up his courage for his next actions, and he leans in and delicately wraps his arms around you, and you do the same, your arms going around his back. You could feel the color on your cheeks as the pace of your heartbeat escalated.

“I-… I loved it,” he says. “I love you.”

“I love you too, in case it wasn’t obvious,” you say with a teasing tone in your voice.

The two of you embrace for a bit of time before letting go, and your eyes immediately darted to his fingernails.

“You ruined them! What did I say?” you scold.

“For a good reason,” he protests in defense of himself.

The two of you hold defiant expressions until you both burst into laughter.

“Alright, alright. I’ll redo them,” you say in between fits of giggles, and you kiss him on the cheek once more. “I’ll just take this as my payment,” you smirk as he turns another 50 shades of red.

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seasonal-shifts-au-fanartfunart · 4 years

Text

Goodbye Winter

Summery: Fall!Virgil goes to talk to Winter

Warnings: sleeplessness/overworking, it’s just overall kinda melancholy & bittersweet, idk pretty much the typical stakes for this au overall >w< Tell me if anything else needs to be added.

Words: idk. over 700ish. (Its not super long at all)

Anyway, here. Have a fic. :)

Virgil pulled on his hoodie and glanced over at the only other season in their home. He sighed, leaning back against the doorway to his room. Logan’s back was to him, a sprawling collection of papers surrounding him where he sat on the floor. An occasional mumble accompanied the frequent scratches on the various papers and calendars.

“Take a nap sometime soon,” he said, ruffling Logan’s already disheveled hair.

Wispy blond strands falling into his eyes, he glanced up from the papers. The crease in his brow softened, just a moment, “Yes, yes… I’ll endeavor to do so-” He worried his lip and added, “Just- after I work out this...”

Virgil gave a lopsided smile, and turned towards the doorway with a two-finger salute. “See you later, alright?”

Logan nodded, the crease in his brow was back. He adjusted his glasses, shaking his head. He let out a soft huff. “You don’t have to say that every time one of us goes out,” he said, trailing off as his eyes returned to his schedules and plans.

“Yeah, I kinda do,” Virgil muttered to himself as he shut the doorway. He glanced up at the sky, sighing into the chill air. He weaved his way through patches of oranges, reds, and golds. Fingertips brushing old branches, the wind shaking out old leaves in his wake. He mused the possibility of a thunderstorm for the night, although, it might just happen on its own accord, considering his mood.

He sighed, pausing in front of the lake, a spindly layer of ice webbed across it. Virgil leaned back into the air, staring up at the grey clouds hanging overhead. “You’d think you’d be close by, given how cold it is already.”

Frost crept around him, almost gentle and curious. Icy cold fingers braced against a tree.

One sure would think.

Virgil kicked at some of the leaves on the forest floor, hands in his pockets… He swapped his cloak for a hoodie, Patton noted dully. That must’ve taken some courage. Virgil had had that cloak for ages. Patton wavered against the tree he’d hidden behind, watching Virgil, looking over the familiar terrain.

“Logan’s not… handling it too well. Despite what he says. I, kinda offered to take over, at least for a little, but he’s stubborn as always. Maybe he thinks I’ll worry myself into an ice age. Maybe he’d be right. Heh. You know I’ve never been the best at keeping myself in check.”

Virgil slumped against a tree, “Roman’s not much better. Actually- I think he’s hiding something…” An ominous rumble curled through the sky, “Or I’m just overthinking. I mean, he hasn’t changed much, just complains even more about Logan doing his job wrong.” Virgil laughed a little, “If that’s possible.”

Patton shifted and hit his head against the tree he’d been against, listening to Virgil ramble.

“Isn’t this the part where you try and get me to see the bright side or tell a silly joke or something? Frick, what’s that term I heard- somebody called it something and I- Dad joke- somebody called ‘em a dad joke. I think you’d like that. ‘M not sure if it’ll stick, I think it’s kinda silly… but then again, so are the jokes.”

Patton smiled, soured with melancholy. Yeah, he liked that. He missed this. Meeting up in the crossover between their seasons, talking about everything and nothing. He missed Virgil’s rumbling voice, and the shuffle of leaves underfoot.

Distant thunder rolled overhead. Patton glanced up and frowned. Virgil sighed. “Well I guess that’s been decided for me.”

“I- I’m trying, Pat. I’m trying.” Virgil leaned forward, glaring out at the ice, “Maybe if I stay out longer, Logan’ll rest more. I- I don’t know what I can do for Ro. Logan’s gotta see him more often anyway so maybe he’ll figure something out... Yeah.”

Patton nodded to himself, avoiding thinking about how if he’d just come back- No, no they had each other. They’ll be fine. They had to be.

Virgil had gone silent. Patton was half sure Virgil would call him out, demand he reveal himself. Patton wasn’t sure he knew how he’d react if he did. The air was still. Stiff.

“And I’m talking to the air,” Virgil huffed eventually, quiet. “Cause you don’t stop by here anymore…. I-”

Virgil tapped the tree beside him briefly, he whispered something under his breath. He was gone with the rustle of leaves and a rumble of a storm overhead.

Patton covered his mouth and twisted his eyes shut.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so so sorry.”

That night, a spattering of hail crashed onto the streets while the wail of wind and boom of thunder crashed together in a thunderstorm. The following rain lasted nearly a week.

A dreary downpour that had little hope of breaking.

The sky wasn’t clear by any means, but it was bright. The air was brisk. Clouds fluffy and light.

“And the seasons, they go ‘round and round- and the painted ponies go up and down-” A voice sung softly, crystalline clear.

Virgil glanced around, turning to find the singer wandering toward the frozen lake.

“We’re captive on a carousel of time- we can’t return we can only look behind- from where we came- And go round and round and round in a circle game-”

“Well that’s depressing,” Virgil huffed, albeit a smirk had found its way onto his lips.

Patton gasped, “It is not! It’s a story about growing up and looking back. Reminds kids to take their time to grow up, since time doesn’t slow down.”

“See, case in point. Depressing.”

Patton shrugged, scrambling over the fallen log to sit and oversee the view. “Well I think it’s cute.”

“Why do you keep coming back here?” Virgil asked, taking his place next to Patton- next to the human.

Patton smiled, “Too see you, silly. Plus- it’s pretty. I like this spot. There’s.... memories here.”

The air seemed to sharpen, just a bit. “Like what?”

“Oh, I hung around here lots as a teenager! There was this one time when I thought it’d be a good idea to try and kinda- half skate on the ice- I didn’t really have skates, but the ice was slippery so it was kinda like skating- I almost fell in actually-” Patton waved his arms around, gesturing , “I know that was a dumb idea. But it was fun!”

Virgil leaned on his elbows, shaking his head, “If I was there-”

“I’m almost certain I would’ve been able to rope you into it,” Patton said a smile plastered onto his face.

A giggle fluttered through the wind, rustling the sparse leaves hanging onto the trees. Virgil nodded, resigned. “Probably.”

Patton sighed, smiling to himself, “I don’t know- It’s- kinda been an Always Spot, you know? I feel like I’ve known this place forever. And it’s just where I like to be, especially during the Fall, when it’s getting cold and the leaves turn pretty colors- and Now I just so happen to also like to check to see if you stopped by, too.”

Virgil nodded, tugging on the edges of his hoodie, “That’s- that’s nice Pat.”

“It would be easier if you actually, ya know, told me when you were in town.”

The rolling in of clouds had been slow, gentle. Smell of fallen leaves surrounded them. “I mean- I have my ways of saying so.”

“Mm, somebody should get a phone.”

“I’m actually not sure if that would even work where I live.”

“It’d work in town at least!”

Virgil shook his head, “We’ll see.”

Silence was comfortable. The air was a soft sort of chilly. Patton’s breath fogged into the air when he gasped. He crinkled his nose with a little smile and glanced up at the sky. “Well hello, Winter.”

Virgil took in a sharp breath, eyes wide as he glanced over at Patton. A snowflake fluttered down onto his nose. He glanced up at the sky himself. “Oh. Yeah.”

Patton rubbed his fingers together, warming them up. Snowflakes nestled into his blond curls like they belonged there, seeming reluctant to let him go. Which- Virgil could understand.

“Yeah... Hello, Winter. Definitely nice to see you again,” Virgil said to the air, because "Winter” doesn’t stop by here anymore.

#Logan Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #Summer!Logan #Winter!Logan #Winter!Patton #Fall!Virgil #seasonal shifts au #season!sides #writing #fanfic #(me writing a fic mostly cause I found old plot points I never got to & remembered people kept asking about fics? Yea it happens sometimes.)

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dafukdidiwatch · 4 years

Text

Cool Cat Saves The Kids

I watched this movie and I still can’t believe this is the actual cover art for it.

God I wrote so many notes about this that even my flipping Bullet Points were basically an essay. I don’t even know how to begin just thinking about it hurts my head.

Overview: Cool Cat is Cool. Things happen to him, and he has to deal with bullying.

That’s it. That’s the thing I watched. Because there is no Real Flipping Plot to this movie.

This is a kid’s show. Or at the very minimum, a movie that is intended for children. It was based on a kid’s book series I’ve never heard of whose author Derek Savage decided to turn it into a movie. Though movie isn’t exactly what I would call it. When you watch it, it honestly feels like there are six 15 minute shorts that they just mashed together to a feature film, but even then that is a Generous Description.

Basically, the film tries to be a children’s program (and I guess has beef with Barney?). And you can see intent behind it being informative child-friendly psa. But the execution was so bad.

First, there is no plot. Sure the cover says that this is “an anti-bullying kid gun safety movie,” but it really give you nothing. What would happen is that Cool Cat has a problem, like someone bullying him or his friends. It would either A) be addressed immediately and solved so that’s great, or B) it is dropped immediately and never really addressed throughout the rest of the film.

And example of A is that the bully kid Butch just starts stealing candy just to be “evil,” Cool Cat sees that and chases him, and the kid gets arrested twenty seconds later. The End.

For B, Cool Cat gets a mean email. And...that’s about it. He responds to the email, but doesn’t actually address the issue and the subplot drops entirely until that VERY Last wrap up scene.

I think the reason for this lack of plot is that there was just WAY too many messages in here. Like, take a shot every time you see a psa announcement. It ranges from don’t bully, how to deal with bullies, being creative, crossing the street safely, to fricking GUN?! Like, the gun thing that I Guess was promoted in the movie tagline, only shows up the last 10 minutes. It caught me so off guard. You cannot call this a Gun Safety movie when guns aren’t even prevalent!!

And the lack of plot is counterproductive when you want to make a Kid’s Movie like this. If you want to tackle each issue as a show or a short, the messages would come across better. There would be more time to develop each message for kids to really understand. But because there is So Much to cover, a lot of the things are gonna fall to the wayside. There is no way a kid would pay attention to this, and if they do I doubt they are gonna learn everything that Derek Savage is trying to teach. There just isn’t any real focus.

The acting, god like they Tried to go with the kid friendly vibe, but was not working. At All. It was like they thought that to add emotion is to just enunciate your words as loudly as you can. Cool Cat was way too yelly. Every line he was just screaming, has no change whatsoever. Even Elmo can sound sad when need be (fucking love Elmo, but he does has a similar voice vibe to Cool Cat, just better).

Then the kids....I don’t want to be mean but I’ll be blunt. They are just reading lines, this is a middle school stage play basically. I’m not blaming the kids, Butch look like he had a hell of a time doing his villain laugh. It’s just that some of the scenes felt like it was taken in one shot and they didn’t bother to retry. Example: One kid got too excited and jumped his line, but they couldn’t just retake that??

And the lines, man. OOF. Some of it was bad. Like, really really bad placement.They should have had someone proof-read this.

Cool Cat: “Why Are You Painting That Wall?”

Random Kid: “Because Nobody Loves Us”

lol what?

Maria: “I bet those kids have never been shown love before.”

Cool Cat: “Thanks, and it’s all true”

LOL What??

There are just a LOT of lines like that that should have been rephrased.

THEN there are the freaking technical issues.

The audio kept fluctuating in sound quality, which honestly started to hurt with Cool Cat’s constant yelling. Some scenes it sounds like they recorded in a studio, sometimes it sounded like the actors had to yell in order for the camera to capture it. There were echos, there were layers, you can’t hear the lines over the song, you can’t hear the song over the cheers. There was one point whispers overlaid on top of the lines where I thought that Cool Cat just got haunted now. And the fun side of having headphones on means I heard the phone button noises in only One Ear. LOUDLY.

Blocking could have been better. There were a lot of backs to the camera, shots of characters walking away from camera not just off screen. This didn’t bother me as much, because I know this isn’t professionally made. But it didn’t feel like they really tried as much as just half-assed it. Example:

Cool Cat was drawing a picture with different colors, but the actor only used one marker and just said different colors. Or Cool Cat is working on a poster but really just rubs the already completed poster on a clean table as him “working.” Like, how hard is it to just film on a table with a bunch of craft supplies around you?

Then there are the questionable camera shots. LOTS of lingering shots to I assume fill up run time. These are shots of just showing Cool Cat walking round without having any real purpose. It shows Cool Catwalk all the way Up Stairs. Walked all the way Down Stairs. Walking into the House, walking into the Car. Even just shots of the parents doing things with no real motivation or impact to whatever Cool Cat is doing. It’s just there. If you want to say stuff like "oh well its to show the parents relationship" no it doesn’t. You can’t really add nuance to characters when the rest of the film is just one chaotic shot after the other. It just gets lost in translation.

The music number is probably what hurts me the most. You see Cool Cat WRITE the song. Then he SINGS the song. Then he DANCES to a DIFFERENT song. And that was it. He just needed the song for the parade, but there wasn’t any explanation or anything. I don’t even know WHY he needs the song for the parade! There was no explanation. It was just an excuse to have two back-to-back bad music video of poor choreography that again, NO POINT to whatever plot/message/psa thing he is trying to do.

I get that there should be some leeway since it looked like this was shot at Derek Savage’s house/neighborhood, so there really isn’t much they could do with their setting. But they could at least tried more with what they had. Cool Cat’s room doesn’t look exactly child friendly. There are only blank drab walls with two, maybe three posters of just Cool Cat himself. There is a reason the settings in other children shows have vibrant colors to engage them. Along with that, another half-assing moment was Butch graffiting Cool Cat’s poster, but it was one of those political posters you stuck on the lawn so it was like a foot tall outside. 1) You can’t really see that shit that small. 2) You couldn’t put the poster on a wall to film that scene at, to give a better view to the audience? It’s just a bunch of little things like that all over this film that really adds up.

Also, what’s with the posters only being about Cool Cat in his own room? A bit narcissistic if you ask me.

I'm also like 70%,sure they made this movie around the footage of them being in the Hollywood parade twice. They were at the parade, got the film, and wanted to use it so they made a movie for it. And I know it was twice because the announcers that were there to announce the arrival of Cool Cat had a costume change after switching scenes.

And after ALL of this, there is just so many random shit that really don’t do anything. Elements are randomly introduced and just as randomly dropped. We get a “next day” transition in the middle of the movie when days have already passed before them. Cool Cat breaks the 4th wall a couple of times with no real reason why. There is this joke where the camera was following Cool Cat into the bathroom for Cool Cat to ask for privacy, only to just ignore that bit every time he goes to the bathroom afterwards. Cool Cat just makes random ass noises when doing things, not important stuff. Just Doing Things. And he does this weird thing where I think he is trying to do Air Guitar, but it just looks like he is just shaking his leg a lot. I don’t really get it.

(Oh Shit, it is only after like the 3rd proof-read of this review I notice that in the gif you can clearly see the dude’s actual leg. I don’t know how mascot suits actually work, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not supposed to let kids actually see that there’s a person underneath in a kid’s show.)

There is also this....lowkey humblebrag going on? Which does not do the movie favors. After the first dumb song number, Derek shows off that he has a signed guitar by Van Halen. Like not just him playing it (which after the 15th zoom in on the guitar how could you NOT notice it thank you Derek), but pointing out to the audience that, Yes it was Indeed signed by Van Halen. Then there is the footage from the Hollywood Parade about the cars there. Sure, I get showing off like the Ghostbusters car, or Jurassic Park car, or the Batmobile. But Hurby the Love Bug? Night Rider?? Starsky and Hutch??? Magnum P.I.?????? The target audience is elementary kids, they aren’t going to know these old shows. So who is this for exactly?

Kudos to the cop for actually doing this, seriously. That cop probably had a hell of a lot of better things to do than arrest children for a bad after-school special.

And this is just SOME of the main problems of this film. There’s so much going on it would be impossible for me to go over everything without

The thing is, there is good material here. Maybe not great results, but there are a lot of ideas here that you can work with to make a decent kid’s movie. I actually loved the part where Cool Cat is dreaming and trying to figure out how he should handle bullies. I thought that was a good scene and a good way to show kids how to think through different options. There are good ideas here, but it was just way to much going on at once the movie basically shoots itself in the foot.

So here is My Version of what Cool Cat should have done.

Cool Cat is running for School President. That’s the main story line. Early in the movie he learns of a writing contest where the winner gets their own float at the hollywood parade (stretch but roll with it). But Cool Cat has no idea what to write, and talks to it with his friends who offers ideas. So he is juggling that along with running for Student President.

However, the Butch the Bully doesn’t like that. He doesn’t want Cool Cat to win. So he vandalizes his posters. Cool cat still runs and makes better posters. Butch tries to frame Cool Cat for vandalizing the playground, but instead his cronies get caught and convinced that it was a bad idea. So Butch decides to cyberbully Cool Cat and his friends to scare them off. He works with the other kid running for President to make a hate ad against Cool Cat, telling everyone how terrible and bad Cool Cat is. Cool Cat tries to go against this my making his music video song over how cool he is to swing the votes, making Butch more angry and vindictive to his bullying scheme.

Cool Cat doesn’t know how to get Butch to stop, but after getting advice from his friends, parents, teachers, and some hard thinking, he decides to confront Butch about his bullying issue, tell someone, and thus solves the problem. Later on after talking to Butch, maybe manages to convince him to start being friends.

Finally, Cool Cat uses this scenario to write his story about how to deal with bullying and make new friends. Which wins and we end with the Hollywood Parade.

Is this perfect? No. But it focuses the idea to one main plot (running for president) with the other issues naturally coming off of it, instead of making each issue it’s own separate thing. There is no random shifts in narrative, no GUN moments (or GUN in general we kick that shit out) and just focus on the main bullying theme.

Overall: This was a weird and bad children’s show. You have to put in a lot of effort into making a movie, but there was just too much going on for this to be a Good Children’s Movie, least of all a Good Movie in general. But it isn’t to say that it wasn’t morbidly enjoyable. It’s was like playing Spot The Difference to find all the Wrong Things in here. It was fun in a bad way.

So will I show this to children? No. But will I play a drinking game with my friends where we take a shot every time someone says the phrase “Cool Cat”? Yeah that sounds enjoyable.

Take a shot for every time you read “Cool Cat” in my review.

Side Note:

You had this as a GUN PSA, wtf are you doing holding a gun!? Given how the only 3 videos this channel has is only Cool Cat Trailers, I’m assuming this is official Cool Cat. Soooo.....what the hell?

#dafukblog #dafuking films #cool cat #cool cat saves the kids #week 8 movie #derek savage

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anpannkko · 4 years

Text

Here's my entrance exam for @taiyuu-high-oct

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kiru bounced her leg, growing antsy. The pit in her stomach that had formed when she arrived has been filled with the prickly thorns of impatience. She’d been in the waiting room for what felt like actual years. The rest of the students had slipped into a sedentary state, idly checking their watches or cleaning their nails, or even just staring at the wall. Every so often, someone would jerk their head, fighting off the tendrils of sleep seeping into their bodies.

"STUDENTS!" the over-enthusiastic voice crackled over the intercom, jolting the examinees out of their stupor. "Prepare yourselves for the most dangerous exam of your lives! This exam is fraught with peril, fear, and…" The voice, who Kiru supposed was a woman, trailed off. "Buckskin, what's another word for danger?"

"Er, maybe it'd be best to get to the exam part, Miss Laccadaisie." A soft voice (Buckskin, apparently) replied.

"Ah." There was a pause, then a scraping sound, like the microphone was being pushed across the table. "Your turn, then."

Buckskin sighed. "Anywho. Students, pay attention to this bit. Your entrance exam will be given in the form of an obstacle race." Low whispers snaked across the room. Some students, like Tokachi and Hiraku, brightened. Their quirks were well suited for a race. The others looked deflated, Kiru among them. How was she supposed to show off her quirk in an obstacle race?

"Some of you may be feeling downcast," Buckskin said as if reading her thoughts, "but don't fret. We've taken care to ensure that all quirks will be usable." The room let out a collective sigh of relief.

"You will be scored in three categories. The first: heroics, which is measured by how many enemies you defeat and bystanders you save. The second: speed, measured by how fast you defeat each obstacle. The third: co-operation." Kiru raised an eyebrow.

"You will be taking the exam with an assigned partner."

...

Oh boy.

Cries of indignation filled the room.

"What?! This a group project?!"

"I hardly know anyone here!"

"Oh...what if I'm no help?"

Laccadaisie cleared her throat pointedly. Everyone quieted down immediately. Buckskin muttered a quiet thanks, then continued. "Your pairs will be displayed on the screen to the right, and then you may leave through the door on the left. Remember, your points are cumulative, so don't try to sabotage your partner." He coughed. "Er, we wish you all the best of luck.

"And don't forget to have fun!" Laccadaisie chimed in. And with a click, the intercom shut off.

Silence.

Kutou was the first to pipe up. "Whoever gets assigned with me, you better not expect me to carry you."

"Vhy vould anyone trrrrust you enough to carrrry zem?" A girl with purple hair and grey skin muttered.

The screen on the right flashed.

TAKAKUTOU SHAKOU & TOKACHI AMEKO

Kutou stood up and trudged her way over to the door. "Come one, bunny girl. Let's get this done." Tokachi stood up begrudgingly, glaring with all the powers of Hell at Kutou's retreating back. Kiru whistled lowly.

She never wanted to be on the receiving end of that glare.

The two of them slipped out of the room, and after that people started trickling out into the most important moment of their careers. The screen flashed brightly, sealing each pair's dates.

SEISHIN TAMASHI & INOUE HIRAKU

YUKINO ZOË & HOTARU FUJI

SUZUKI POPI & ARAKAN KOATSU

With each person that left, the tension grew heavier and heavier until Kiru could practically taste it. Her potential partner options grew slimmer and slimmer. She had a sneaking suspicion who hers was gonna be, but she kept praying it wouldn't be so. Soon everyone had left except for…

Him.

She hadn't even bothered to learn his name. Why waste time and energy getting to know someone you'd never plan on talking to by your own free will?

The look on his face told her that her line of thinking was paralleled.

She sighed. "Well, howdy doody, partner? What's your name? I didn't catch it over the sound of your stupidity whilst you were preening earlier."

He scoffed and pointed to the screen.

KANZOU KANEDA & KOTTOBA KIRU

"Personally, I'd rather avoid speaking to you more than is necessary," he drawled. "Don't want to give the impression that I tolerate you."

Kiru rolled her eyes. "Your loss, McSalty, you're missing out on a stellar personality." She strode over to the door and opened it, giving him a comically over-the-top bow. "Ladies first."

"What an elementary insult."

"Honey, if you thought that was an offence, you've never looked in a mirror." She shut the door behind her. Kanzou opened his mouth, probably to give some poorly thought out retort, but was cut off by a rather distracting explosion.

Kiru ducked instinctively and turned her attention to the scene before her. Several surprisingly human-sized robots were darting around; breaking windows, throwing around bricks, and harassing passerby. There were screams of citizens (which she hoped were simulated) echoing around. Above them all, a significantly larger robot floated above the chaos, clearly meant to be the final boss.

She whistled. "They really went all out, didn't they?" Silence. "Alright then. Can you handle a couple of robots while I do some rescues?"

"Let's just get this over with." He rushed off and started hurling...sugar? At the robots? How was that supposed to help?

She shrugged and ran off towards the nearest citizen, who was being attacked by a villain. The citizen was a different type of robot, more round and friendly-looking. The enemies were sharper-looking and had screens on their faces, which was currently displaying “>:)”. Kottoba rushed over and tugged the attacker off, throwing it across the street. It was surprisingly light. She turned back to the citizen and helped it to its feet.

“You alright, man?” The friendly robot brushed itself off and gave Kiru a thumbs up before running off. She smiled. That wasn’t that hard. She ran to the next group of citizens and herded them away from the fight. Then there was one pinned under a bit of debris. Then a child-sized one stuck in their house. Then a couple, clinging to each other, being beaten by a whole gang of robots.

She obliterated them all.

Feeling more and more confident with each moment, she turned around to check on Kanzou.

“Oh, brilliant.”

The narcissistic rat was challenging the boss. There was a random assortment of small fruits and vegetables floating around him. He was hurling sugar everywhere, occasionally spicing it up with a piece of produce, which didn’t seem to have a be super effective. The boss was attacking him so fast, it was a wonder Kanzou wasn’t shredded to bits by now.

“Oi! Raisin-brain! What are you doing?!” Kiru yelled out.

Kanzou glanced over and at that moment the boss was able to land a hit. He dropped to the ground.

“Frick-” Kiru rushed to him, prepared to help and possibly perform CPR, but Kanzou kicked her as soon as she was in range.

“Ow! Why?”

“Get down, you stupid friking idiot.” he hissed. Kiru dropped immediately.

“Why the heck were you fighting that thing? You were supposed to get the little ones down first.”

Kanzou rolled his eyes. “Did you forget the entire point of this thing? It’s a race, dummy. Obviously, the big bad is the obstacle. We've gotta defeat it and then find the exit."

“Okay, then, what do we do?”

He put a hand on his chin and furrowed his brow. "Obviously, it's a tough one, considering my skills were barely able to make a dent in it. We'll have to rely on trickery."

Kiru gave him an incredulous look. "Your skills? You mean throwing potatoes at a robot?"

He gave her a harsh glare, cold as ice. "Well, you haven't done anything significant this whole time."

She sputtered. "I'm the only reason we even have points! You're the unhelpful one! All you've done is chuck fruit and I could do that without a quirk!" Kanzou opened his mouth to argue, but at that moment The Boss hurled a handful of small building chunks at them. One piece smacked Kiru in the head, and it hurt.

To put it delicately, Kiru lost it.

"Oh, rust off, you bucket of bolts!" She popped up from their shoddy hiding place, anger boosting her new-found energy. "You are the sorriest excuse for a villain dummy I've ever had the displeasure of meeting! You're not even doing anything, you stupid hunk of garbage! Your mother was a roomba and your father came from a scrapyard! What are you even made of, brainless steel?!" The Boss stopped suddenly, its facial screen glitching. Sparks flew from its joints, and it jerked violently. Kiru backed away. It was going crazy. The robot stopped convulsing, its facial screen briefly displaying an ":0" face.

And then it exploded.

"Gah!" Kiru scrambled out of the explosion's range. Flaming pieces of robot rained down, making it 100% more dangerous. A hand tapped her shoulder and she jumped. It was Kanzou, who was pointing to a door that had opened up on the other side of the fire.

"That has to be the exit!" He exclaimed. Kiru nodded in agreement.

"How do we get there?"

In response, he flicked his hand and drew out a white powder from one of his pockets. "You need to follow me closely, otherwise you'll get burned." He took off, laying down thick layers of powder in front of him. Kiru bolted after him. The powder seemed to put out the fire almost instantly. After they had gotten through the worst of it, he spread his arms in a grand gesture, and a flurry of powder settled over the remaining flames. He turned back, satisfied. Kiru grinned.

"Race you to the exit." Kanzou rolled his eyes, then dashed ahead of her. "Hey! I didn't say go yet!" She yelled, but she wasn't really mad. She ran after him, but he totally got there before her. "Rude."

"Don't be offended,I'm just better than you." Kiru snorted. She pushed open the door, giving him a comical bow.

"It's still ladies first."

"Excuse you, I'm a queen." He strode in and yelped. Kiru quickly followed him.

"What? What is-" she gaped.

In front of them, there was a large screen, displaying their rankings among the other examinees.

"Second place?!" Whatever Kiru was expecting, it wasn't that. "Heck yeah, dude!" She raised her hand for a high five. Kanzou just scowled.

"I could've done better if you hadn't slowed us down." He meant it to sound insulting, but Kiru thought he sounded more mad at himself.

Or maybe her brain was filtering it to sound that way as not to ruin her mood. Whatever.

"Well, we're in the school now. Schools are for improving, right?" She grinned. "I'll just have to work hard to turn my stupid into strategy." Kanzou didn't respond, but he didn't scoff or roll his eyes, so Kiru took that as a sign he'd taken her stellar advice to heart.

Ah, yes. Kottoba Kiru, dropper of hot wisdom, maker of puns, master of flirtation…

Hero hopeful.

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theorynexus · 4 years

Text

Fifty and Four sends us cresting over the hill, if we weren’t already. How long until we hit the bottom?

Oh ho? Jane’s perspective again, huh? ‘t’s been a while.

EEEHHHH?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh, that is not good!

Rrrrgh, she does not need to be building up a habit like that! The consequences of such use are far too severe and unpredictable, even if you don’t consider the potential negatives to one’s psychological health. >.< Gosh... even with her Life aspect probably protecting her a little bit from its sugary after-effects, reading that makes me feel sick. > ~~~ <

Figures that a Cherub would be biased in favor of it. At least Alt!Calliope is willing distance herself and try to be objective, though.

***giggles uncontrollably, even though this honestly shouldn’t be funny***

Very politically-minded, but it also sortof sounds like the excuse-making that an addict would engage in, so I am not convinced that this is a legitimate argument. Yeah, shoring up your base is important, but doing something that could strongly alienate swing voters is not necessarily wise, either. I suspect she knows this too, but is in denial about the fact of the matter, because she enjoys the benefits of Trickster Mode too much. It is quite interesting that the human kingdom’s subjects appreciate it so much~

HAAAAA. Oh my fricking gosh, Alt!Calliope is a Cherub Supremacist! XD

(Sortof makes sense, based on the mindsets that were described in Aranea’s [?] talk about the Cherubs’ origins, though. Might be biologically-driven, honestly.) Also, it’s quite interesting to see Jane interacting with Alt!Calliope like that, but it is hardly unique or overly-noteworthy, all things considered... at least, most likely. Quite a few other characters have responded to narration in a similar manner.

... Honestly, I was about to freak out about the Juju getting covered in dirt and grime, but the way she tossed away probably significant keepsakes, trophies, or the like for the sake of honoring it is... quite disturbing, and speaks to a danger in her presumably worsening compulsion/habit. Though they might just be cookies.

Dirk displays surprising wisdom/good judgment, here, and amusingly alludes to the fact that his voice is being otherwise suppressed. His actually talking in a scene represents a nice sort of loophole, but not one by which he can utilize such control as he would otherwise be capable. ... And yes, her burning out is a very legitimate concern, which speaks to the fact that Dirk definitely+legitimately cares about the things that serve his purposes and/or agendas. They, he is willing to more gently guard, comparatively, it would seem.

It feels like this is a reference to something, probably from the 1980s or early 90s, but I can’t place my finger on it. Oh well.

This is very amusing, honestly.

Deeeeeerp. (Yet another example of why it is difficult to take his attempt at super-godhood seriously... or at least find it anything better than dreadful. Dirk is great at juggling many things at once, but not as great as he’d need to be. )

Oh, and I appreciate Jane’s concern for Dirk. She is indeed correct in saying that he is usually much better at it than my previous comment might have suggested. But I am not entirely being unfair, insofar as this is true: the greater the responsibility one wields, the greater the level of competence one must have in order to pass proper muster. He was failing in his attempt. I didn’t really give him all that much of a chance to sway me, honestly, but my own demeanor in dealing with him had nothing to do with the actual quality of his work.

This must be really concerning to Jane. And... honestly, yes he is. They are very, very similar. Dirk is just more obvious with his intelligence, more controlled, and more mature. They are both highly ambitious, crave challenges, enjoy art, have quite a bit of masculine pride, and have a shared appreciation for irony, riddles, and absurdist humor. Caliborn was likely very, very influenced by Dirk in particular, both of them received Yaldabaoth as their Denizen due to their personality and prowess, and both of them are highly manipulative men of questionable morality. Also, their sexual interests seem to be somewhat similar, but that is a debatable matter. Lord English has Lil’ Hal integrated as part of his soul, Lil’ Cal has played a profound part in both of their (multiple) life cycles. Finally: as of the Epilogue and his attempted control of the narrative seen therein, Dirk essentially has pursued the same goal that LE did: domination of Paradox Space through his will controlling the natural flow of events. Dirk and Caliborn are in truth extremely alike.

I do so very much like where this is going. It would seem that we will soon find out precisely what Dirk is planning. “Diminishes and ascends” has an interesting ring to it, as well. That red rifle: Is it the one that launches portals? Honestly, Dirk is indeed quite clever, by the way. He has the seeds of great potential. It’s simply that it has not fully bloomed, yet, and he is a little bit overly full of himself, and arrogant in what he believes he can do. And yes, he is indeed temperamental when people interfere with his plans, it seems.

There’s the scheming politician we’ve all been waiting for. Way to go, thinking in such calculated manners and considering backstabbing ones you care about, Jane. Somewhat petty, and certainly rather dangerous, all things considered (things are a bit more explosive, where gods are involved), but closer to the political ideal which I would hope for if she were to be portrayed as competent. (Of course, I am actually disgusted with that sort of behavior. It’s one of the things I dislike about politics. I’ll recognize that it at least paints her in a slightly better light than the previous samplings of her thought process and tactical capacity has; thus, I generally like and dislike where this is going.)

Yep. Angelic purity with sexual potency/desire. There has always been this sort of tension in Hope’s nature. Just like the fact that angels are, in Biblical texts, both symbols of terror and destruction as well as hope and salvation. All (almost all?) the important positive interactions with heavenly beings start with fear on the part of mortals, followed by a “Fear not!” to suggest they come in peace. Otherwise, they come bringing judgment and wrath, and thus don’t tend to bother much with formalities.

Is that sarcasm, Jane? If not, there’s certainly a heavy layer of irony. Do remember what just happened with Jane when she invited Jape Jake over for a friendly visit, not too long ago, my good audience members.

... ***twitches, and tries very hard to hold in the inappropriate laughter***

If only I had someone so dependable to tell me when I was not dwelling far enough into the land of Always Woke. Perhaps then I would be able to avoid the inevitable scandals that would result from Foot-in-the-Mouth-itis. Oh, wait, no politician can avoid being attacked for various probably minor accidents on their part as the populace naturally over-reacts to what honestly may not actually reflect their character so much as them being accident prone or ignorant? What’s that about manipulation of audio/video recordings for the sake of generating useful sound bites that might be used in an attempt to impugn the honor of any prospective candidate? Oh. I see. Thank you for that important bit of knowledge that I otherwise might not have had access to, imaginary adviser. (Note: I do not actually believe that one should try to be as careful as possible with regards to what one says; nor that one should ignore or scorn important social issues. I am utilizing exaggeration and mockery for the sake of comedy.) ... Alt!Calliope’s description of Dirk holding the rifle is quite elegant and beautiful.

This is indeed a beautiful irony, seeing the situation with regards to Dirk and Alt!Calliope’s tendencies toward bias being reversed.

***snickers*** Magnifique.

It is strange to see Alt!Calliope teasing and egging him on. It may be unintentional. Hard to say.

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