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yandere-sins · 3 years

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Charred

Horrortober Day 7: Shock “You look like a deer caught in the headlights.”

Ah yes. Angels. Complicated beings, I love them. Randomizer sure gave me an interesting combination for this day, but I am not complaining :D Also, if you are one of the people leaving a comment on my posts, please just know you are everything. I love you ♥ Even if they are in the tags, I am so happy to read your thoughts and feelings, it really helps so much to stay positive and motivated! ;;

Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Corrupted Angel, Mild violent outburst Characters: Simeon x Reader

Angels aren't human.

How could you have forgotten?

Running through this godforsaken hallway, you were constantly blinded by lights. Little remnants of Simeon's power, one you didn't know he had. "I should have known better," you thought as you shielded your eyes from another flash caused by an orb to your left. If only the holy magic Simeon was able to use wasn't that harmful to your vision. If only he wouldn't use it on you. If only you never let it come this far.

But how could you have known? You thought you two were friends and like-minded people when you got closer to Simeon as you two attended RAD as exchange students. You weren't that kind of sinner; you never gave yourself hope there could be anything beyond friendship. And you weren't looking for it either. But to dismiss his exalted status as well, that one was on you. Of course he could use magic that was dangerous to you, especially with how little Simeon could understand human emotions.

Sure, he could crack a smile at a joke, show sadness, and give comfort, but he only did what he learned to do, feigning his sympathy. He didn't mean to hurt anyone with it, but it just wasn't in him to feel as humans do, or else it was threatening to defile them. Angels aren't human, they couldn't feel emotions like you did, and when they did, well, this is what happened.

Simeon was a mess. He was beside himself, trying to figure out what was wrenching his body. Ironically, it had been Lucifer who warned you about this. He kept himself brief when talking about angels and corruption, not wanting to open his own wounds. But he still made a point to tell you that it was overwhelming and maddening to have lived for centuries and only then regaining an emotional conscience. It war pain. Suffering. A change that would take months and years to overcome.

And it was all the scarier how quiet it made Simeon.

He didn't tell you what was happening, and you didn't notice it, busy with your duties and the brothers. You should have seen it! You blamed yourself for not being more careful as his friend, but it was already too late. When he started to demand more of your time and attention, glaring at the others for taking up his space by your side, it should have rung some alarm bells. It was almost painfully obvious that him getting more touchy when you were together and antsy when you pulled away was a warning of what was to come. Maybe you chose to ignore it. Perhaps you thought your friendship could survive him being irrational and angry, snapping at you and others at times.

But by the time Simeon became what he wasn't supposed to be, he had already kidnapped you somewhere strange and magical, just as twisted and scary as he was now. It was like an endless dark, ancient castle. Rooms with high ceilings and tall windows looking into the nothingness around the building. The insides were decorated, but the colors everywhere were constantly shifting, nauseatingly so. Sometimes white, sometimes grey. Gold accents, then copper. The temperature was hot when you were awake and cold when you slept. You knew it was magical and tied to Simeon, but that made it all the more uncomfortable and scary. You didn't want to experience this. You never asked for it! Part of you knew what was going on, and it made the realization worse.

There had been moments of clarity in his eyes when you pleaded with him to get a grip, but they fogged over with emotions an angel shouldn't have. When you tried to reason with him, he got jealous over the argument that others would come looking at you. "You're mine!" he screamed, and then his eyes cleared as he regretted his words, leaving you alone abruptly before you could say another word. He was ashamed and scared, you had seen it in his expression, but he still came back as if nothing happened.

On the surface, he was still the Simeon you knew. The one you loved. But he was so quickly offended and angered by now that you only grew more worried every day. Suddenly he started locking your room or would sit and watch you sleep, and you were scared of this angel that wasn't an angel anymore.

So… you ran.

At the first opportunity, you ran. The hallway seemed endless, and you didn't know where you were going. Flashes went off every few steps, and you ran into a few amenities blindly. Even if it was pure madness and wouldn't help either of you, you couldn't do this. The longer you stayed, the worse Simeon got. You needed to find help for him—and for you. That was the only way. The others would know what to do! They could do something for Simeon that you weren't able to, give him stability and support him in these hard times. You were just a human and didn't know if Simeon could remain an angel after all that happened, but if he could, that's what you wished for him from the bottom of your heart. You never intended any of this to happen, and secretly, you didn't want to be the reason for it.

"AH!" with a loud shriek, you were caught by a slice of light right in front of you. It was like a slit opening up, but even brighter than the orbs that had exploded before that. You could recognize magic when you saw it by now. Simeon's magic. Flashy, dazzling, unbefitting of the tumult he was going through. Simeon was far stronger than you expected him to be, but you realized now that you took his calm and sweet demeanor for weakness, when really, it was mercy.

Tumbling backwards, you landed on your side, your arm throbbing as you slowly tried to get up again. It should have shocked you more to see the person slowly stepping out of the light, but you could barely see anyway, only recognizing the voice as he spoke up. "My, you look like a deer caught in the headlights."

Finally, the light shining at you terrifyingly bright vanished, leaving only you two behind in the warped hallway. It took you a few blinks to recover from it, tiny sparks flying through your vision when you looked up at Simeon. Other than the dark corridor, Simeon was wearing his pristine, white clothes. Pure and amiable. Nothing like the inner tumult he was battling, and still, he looked nothing like the Simeon you knew. The kind Simeon. The one you loved.

You feared he was already gone.

Around you, the colors of the castle shifted to nightmarish black while accents turned into a deep red, all while you and Simeon never broke eye contact. He was walking towards you, hand on his chest and smiling in greeting. You once loved his reassuring smiles, the encouraging message they delivered. But this one was menacing and cold, as was his voice when he spoke up again.

"Where are you going?" he asked curtly, right to the point. Biting your lip, you only looked away. You wanted to argue, but good could come out of that? When you cracked your room's lock, you thought it would take him longer to find out. Long enough for you to form a plan, but it only now crossed your minds that the lights you encountered could have been like security cameras for Simeon to check in the case you ever did break out.

"There is no leaving this place, my dove. You know this. Why are you testing me."

"Why are you keeping me here?" you asked the same question he ignored so many times. Though this time, he indeed had something to say to it.

"It's dangerous out there. Demons will get to you, blemish your skin with their marks and rob you of your life. Aren't you worried at all?"

"I'd like to see for myself what I can do out there," you retorted firmly. "I think you're losing it, Simeon. You are nothing like you were when we were students."

Confronting him may not have been the best idea as his once so kind eyes turned moody, smile turning into a frown as you mentioned the past. "No, I am better. I can protect you now. I take care of you. You owe me more respect if you think I've gone mad. The only thing making me mad is you!"

Gulping, you looked at him. He was prideful now too. It was painful for you.

Simeon was slipping further and further. Every passing second was destroying him.

"Simeon, please," you whispered, pleading with him from the bottom of your heart. "I want to help you! B-But I don't know how! I need help to help you, I need to get out!"

"You're not going anywhere," he decided, cutting his hand through the air in a gesture signaling finality to his word. Kneeling down before you, he pulled you roughly into his chest, pressing your head against him. If there was any good that came out of the change, perhaps it was how open he was now to touches. You longed for this, for something longer than just a hug when you two met. But your heart was throbbing out of devastation now, rather than jumping from joy.

"Please get help," you pleaded, gripping his clothes. "I won't leave you, but please ask the brothers or Lord Diavolo for help, Simeon!"

"Never say their names again," he hissed at you, an unfamiliar hostility in his voice that brought you to tears. But Simeon held you as you cried into his chest. His comfort wasn't helpful, but what else did you have to cling to? If not for him, you would be alone and abandoned in this realm, and you had to painfully admit that he was indeed taking care of you. Good care. In his own, twisted way.

While you were still crying, Simeon carried you back to your room, laid you in your bed, and tugged you in. He did so with a frown deeply lodged on his beautiful face, the wrinkles so unfitting for an angel. But a small hope remained inside of you that you crying would make him see reason. Instead, he sat by your bedside as you two stared at each other, eventually muttering that he was going to get you some food before leaning down and kissing your forehead. You hated this affection. Actually, you hated that it was under these circumstances.

When Simeon got up, he left you without another look back over his shoulders, and you sniffled, the tears never drying out as you looked after him. So cold, so… lonely. He was in pain too, he must have been. If only there was a way to reverse it. To make him see reason and to calm his aching. You wished you could have helped him, at least a little bit. As a human, was there nothing you could do? Maybe just take some of the sins he was living through! As normal as they were for you, they were killing him from the inside.

The intense light from before flashed up as he opened the door to your room, blinding and stinging in your eyes. Still, you were already crying, and it was hard to avoid your gaze from Simeon even now. It was the first time you noticed his wings, usually concealed by magic, but as he used them, they came into plain view. You had believed until the last second that maybe there was a way to help him. To save him from this. But you were a little wiser as you looked at the feathers sprouting from his back. His beautiful, large wings.

Charred-black.

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dannyphantom-rewrite · 3 years

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Timekeeper's assistants AU

Alright y'all! This is gonna be my info dump post for the Timekeepers assistant Au- buckle up cause it's gonna be a long one!

Inspired by @queendibz post here

The entire purpose of the assistant squad is to keep all the time lines running smoothly- this can range from stopping a world ending event to making sure things misplaced by natural ghost portals get put back into the right time and place.

So First up on the crew list,

Dan:

-Dan definitely isn't a homicidal maniac anymore but he's not 100 percent "redeemed" either.

-I mean he's probably still a bit of sadist but he tries not to be?

-The best description I can give is that he's in recovery, basically.

-So, Clockwork knew that Dan would eventually bust out of the thermos just because it wasn't built to hold a ghost of his power level for a prolonged period of time. But beyond that?? He has no idea about anything in regards to Dan. Since Dan's creation was averted, his timeline doesn't exist anymore. He's a paradox that exists outside of time, and unfortunately, that means he's the one entity in the multiverse that exists in Clockwork's blindspot. There's no way for him to know what Dan's going to do next.

-Anyway, Dan eventually breaks out of the thermos fully intending to Fuck Shit Up, And Clockwork makes a point of informing him that if he leaves the clock tower he will cease to exist. (Like Dan, the tower exists outside of time, so he's safe there.)

-Dan is the first member of the assistant squad. Granted, it took a while for him to come around to the idea of helping Clockwork but he got there eventually.

-Dan is an entity that was born out of the rage and grief of two very broken people and he has so much shit he's working through as a result

-One of the first things he had to do was recognize and accept that he's an entity that's completely separate from Vlad and Danny. He might have all their memories and the weight of their mistakes on his shoulders, and on top of that, the atrocities he himself committed because of them. The first step is realizing that he doesn't have to be defined by the people that made him.

-It's a really fucking difficult thing to do tho and he's got a lot of weird emotions in regards to Vlad, Danny and the Fentons as a result. A near constant identity crisis, self loathing, daddy issues, something that could arguably be called an Oedipus complex, (FUCKING THANKS, VLAD)

-Cannot stand the smell of fast food, it makes him nauseous and the sight of Nasty Burger sauce alone is enough to make him vomit Ectoplasm.

-He's just a hot mess all around y'all

-He tries to keep his interactions with the Danny's as minimal as possible at first bc of this. The first time he meets them in person he shape shifts into Danny like he did in TUE and just pretends to be one of them. Some of them have had interactions with their respective Dan's already and would be super wary of him and probably pretty freaked out otherwise.

-Dan is eventually allowed to leave the clocktower for supervised "Field missions" with the aid of a time medallion to keep him from poofing out of existence, but it takes a while for clockwork to build up that level of trust.

-Dan's shapeshifting ability Actually comes into play a bit on a lot of those missions, since he can Mimic Danny it also makes sense that he'd be able to impersonate Vlad in the same way. Granted he's not incredibly comfortable taking on either of their appearances but it does help him hone his shapeshifting ability to the point where he's able to pick and choose features from both Vlad and Danny and sorta make his own human disguise.

-Most of the time he acts as the eye in the sky from the tower, monitoring for timeline anomalies and then notifying the appropriate member of the assistant squad.

-He has a room under the clock tower that he operates from. I kinda like the idea of there being like, catacombs down there? Anyway he's got all kinds of monitors and view screens and he very rarely leaves. It also doubles as his "living space." He doesn't need to sleep but he's got a big mess of a pillow fort that he crashes in regardless bc sometimes you just NEED to be unconscious for a while. The catacombs are also absolutely full of those little blob ghosts that wander around the zone bc They're attracted to the ecto energy the tower gives off. He's really annoyed by them at first but they grow on him after a while and now he just dotes on them.

-There's a specific throw pillow sized one that likes to hang out in Dan's room a lot and he ended up getting a little over attached to the stupid thing. His name is Dorian. Bc he's a gift.

-SIR THATS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLOB

-Dan's appearance has changed slightly. He wears his hair loose now and it's kinda just this big fiery mane when it's not contained. His cape is more of a cloak now, it has a hood and he wears it sorta pinned together at the shoulder so the DP logo is covered.

-Dan's relationship with the rest of the Danny's is kinda weird, and a little strained. He has a hard time being around them for very long because, well, he used to sort of be them? Except not really? He does care about them tho, and the last thing he'd want is for one of them to end up like him.

-His relationship with clockwork definitely starts out pretty familial, after he becomes his assistant, anyway. There's room for that to develop into meddling minutes but I'm not entirely sure if I'm gonna go that route yet.

-The Danny's only ever hear his voice for a while before he finally let's them meet him for real, so they end up calling him Charlie for a while as a joke. Cause Ya know. Charlie's angels. Even after Charlie still ends up being his designated name on missions.

Mer! Danny:

-Was recruited bc a lot of the shit that gets sucked through natural portals ends up in a body of water somewhere and when that happens he's on call to retrieve it.

-Is Actually not at all ghostly! Mer Danny's situation is basically the plot of H2O (just add water), or if you haven't seen that, Aquamarine. And by that I mean he's only a merfolk in water.

-He's an electric eel

-His Jack and Maddie are marine biologists, with a particular interest in marine cryptids

-We're taking sea monsters baby!!!

-Not entirely sure how this Danny ended up half mer yet but I'll figure it out, lmao.

-14 years old

-His nickname/ designation is "Moray"

Crown Prince! Danny:

-Nickname/designation is Prince / Princey

-16 years old

-Not allowed to go anywhere in the zone without the Fright knight bc of some ancient ghost law bullshit, so he has a constant babysitter.

-He's next in line bc he sealed away Pariah, but can't take the throne until he is both, A) at least 18 years and B) Completely deceased

-Vlad is his Regent bc he did have a part in the whole sealing the previous king thing, but he's also not completely dead so his power is super limited there.

-As Prince Danny has the crown of fire in his ghost form, although now the name is kinda ironic seeing as it's completely frozen over. It's blue now and it smokes like dry ice.

-As Regent, Vlad has the ring of rage for "safe keeping"

-Vlad and Danny are pretty much constantly at each other's throats, fright knights probably had to shut down more than a few of Vlad's attempts to usurp the crown from Danny through combat.

-Princey deals with the timeline issues that involve the ghost zones' internal / political affairs, and he's gotten very well versed with dealing with the Observants.

Winged! Danny :

-15 years old

-Mallard duck wings

-His Vlad is a swan

-Comes from a family of waterfowl, Jack is a goose, and Maddie is a white swan. Both he and jazz are ducks bc of their grandparents.

-As Fenton his wings are white, like jazz, and as phantom they turn black with a green iridescent sheen.

-He's trans

-Nickname/ designation is inviso Bill. Bc ducks have bills haha get it-

-Ghostly wail?? Nah son he's gotta killer QUACK

-Absolute besties with Mer!Danny/ Moray, sometimes they go swimming together after a mission.

Clone! Danny:

-Physically he's a 12-year-old, but he's only been alive for a few months.

-Alt universe where Vlad manages to stabilize the perfect clone with his own DNA.

-Dani still exists, and the original danny from his time line also rescued the other problematic clones.

-Doesnt like the fact that he's a clone, and very much wants them all DEAD. Bc them running around is a reminder that he's not the real danny.

-Human half looks the same aside from the widows peak and the mallen streak. His ghost half takes after plasmius. Blue skin, and the Hazmat kept it's original white colors.

-Probably has fangs and a forked tounge.

-Not so much a member of the squad as he is someone that they need to be keeping an eye on.

-Does NOT get along with them.

-Dan enjoys making him uncomfortable.

-Designation is Masters / the brat (not to his face tho)

Family Breakfast AU! Danny:

-A BABY

-The boy is a fucking overpowered todler okay. He's an 8 year old.

-The biological son of his Vlad, was born a Halfa. Jack, Vlad and Maddie got their shit together and are in a healthy poly relationship.

-Got separated from Vlad one time in the zone and inadvertently adopted by the assistant squad and clockwork.

-His Vlad is aware of the squad and just. Dad's the crap out of the Danny's as a result. It makes for some..... interesting interactions.

-I can't think of a nickname so I'm just gonna be lazy and say he gets to be the one Tru Danny bc cute little kind privileges lmao.

Full ghost! Danny:

-15 years old, will always look 14.

-Nickname/designation is Toast

-Died in the portal accident and got fucking FRIED.

-He always smells like somethings burning.

-He's really bright and sorta sparks a bit, you can see his bones glowing through the hazmat.

-He still leave the zone to protect his version of amity, but lives with clockwork full time.

Canon Danny (NOT PHANTOM PLANET COMPLIANT) :

-Basically show Danny, except phantom planet never happened fuck you

-Joined the crew after the events of de stabilized

-Also he's trans fuck butch

-Franken! Danny

-Yall remember that Headless Danny Au? This is my take.

-Is Actually 20 years old, but physically stuck at age 14. Bc he's a walking corpse :)

-Came from a timeline that was directly parallel to Full ghost! Danny. He dies in the portal accident, but jack and Maddie are in the lab when it happens and manage to sort of bring him back using a combination of science and freaky ghost junk.

-So he's basically possessing/ stuck inside of his own dead body. Which, is thankfully not rotting or going into rigor mortis bc Ectoplasm is rather similar to formaldehyde, but he's not the most durable thing and bits and pieces fall off from time to time.

-Like his head. For example.

-He's pretty desensitized to it at this point and if he loses a leg after a ghost fight he doesn't see anything wrong with sitting down on the curb of a main street to stich it back on. His being dead isn't exactly a secret.

-Don't ever ask him to "give you a hand" bc he can and will not hesitate to pop one off and Chuck it at you.

-Said hand and any other body part will continue to function just fine even if it isn't attached to anything, btw.

-Nickname/ designation is Adam. Bc. Ya know. that's the name Frankenstein's monster gave itself.

Post Phantom Planet! Danny:

-A very jaded 22 year old who is driven only by spite and enough caffeine to kill a horse

-Very, very tired of the hero thing.

-Being a global celebrity isn't all it's cracked up to be.

-Decided to follow Vlads lead and fuck off to space for a while. Partially to get away from everyone and also partially bc he kinda feels responsible for the fact that the only other person like him and probably floating DEAD in the void somewhere? And yeah Vlad fucked up all on his own but what if he'd tried harder to get through to him things could have been different-

-Joins the crew after a natural portal opens up in space and decides to help out and use clockworks resources to try and track down his Vlad.

-Nickname/ Designation is Polaris, aka the north star.

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yukipri · 4 years

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On Thatch & Marco - A One Piece Mermaid AU Text Headcanon/Story

So I’ve gotten quite a few asks regarding Marco and the Whitebeards, and while this isn’t a response to a specific ask, here’s a little story on them!

It's only been a few weeks since they've left Dawn Island, and they're still in East Blue but they've somehow already more than doubled the number of brats on board. And while the Moby Dick is far from boring, Thatch has had more adventures in this short timespan than he's had in years, and he's thriving.

Sure, he still feels little twinges of guilt for basically ditching his duties, but he's growing, in ways that the stability of an established Yonko crew hadn't allowed, and he knows that he'll be a better, more useful man to Pops and the others by the time they've caught up in the New World. Honestly, he's wondering if he should suggest these kinds of experiences for all the commanders, and wonders how Pops would feel about that.

But it's on one of these days and brief moments of calm when Thatch is daydreaming about his family in the New World when he spots a blue seagull circling far above them. It's weirdly shiny, and Thatch immediately recognizes it as a species native to an island in Pops' territory, and one that is unusual all the way here in East Blue.

Which means only one thing: Marco's checking in.

A quiet whistle from Thatch is all it takes for the seagull to come spiraling down, and Thatch remembers to take a quick glance around deck to make sure Luffy hasn't spotted it; he's learned the hard way what it means for a bird to land on deck when the ever-hungry mermaid is feeling a bit peckish.

But the bird lands safely on the rail close to Thatch's arm. It's by no means nearly as brilliant a blue as Marco, but certainly more beautiful than most birds you can find out at sea. Thatch still remembers the first time he found Marco making friends with the things, remembers laughing hysterically and making all sorts of bird jokes as Marco, then still a teen, looked more and more like the constipated old man he eventually grows up to be.

Well, jokes aside, the birds are now incredibly useful, serving as Marco's personal messengers to their allies across the world. Which, huh, Thatch supposes that includes him now, which is kind of an odd feeling.

And while Thatch wants to feel flattered that Marco's checking up on his favorite Thatch, he also knows that Marco's checking up on their littlest little brother, and the little brother of that little brother (baby brother^2, Thatch and Marco had fondly dubbed her, when Ace first told them about her). Because while Thatch's definitely accompanying Ace and co for his own selfish reasons (and he also swears it's not just so he could encounter the love of his life, darling Luffy), he also knows that Marco and Pops had ulterior motives for letting Thatch go, beyond just allowing Thatch to stretch his legs.

When Ace had asked, uncharacteristically shy, if he could still be one of Whitebeard's sons without formally joining his crew, and when Whitebeard responded with an affirmative--Thatch wonders if Ace really understands what that meant. A good parent, a good father is definitely a foreign concept to him (and unfortunately for Luffy too, Thatch has found, and knows that Pops will adopt her the moment he meets her if he hasn't already). And the Whitebeard pirates don't take the bonds of family lightly.

So while yes, Thatch is here for his own adventures, he's also very aware of what he represents, both to his family and to the world. For his family, his presence on board maintains the connection between the Whitebeards and Ace. Ace is still so very new to their family, and while no one doubts his competence, he still has much to go in terms of learning to rely on them, on learning that the Whitebeard pirates will ALWAYS have his back. And well, East Blue is kinda far away, too far for a shout to be heard on the Moby. So Thatch is here acting as their representative, and he couldn't be more honored to have the role. He is, if nothing else, excellent at being a nagging older brother, and it's the role he's easily found himself fitting into here.

But the other reason is that Thatch is the Fourth Division Commander of the Whitebeards, and no one who knows anything about pirates would fail to recognize him, and the weight of his presence. He knows people won't immediately make the connection that this crew has already been adopted, or even what that means because it's not quite the same as ally, but Thatch's presence establishes an undeniable connection between them and one of the Four Emperors. Thatch knows that when he makes eye contact with the marines and they balk, it's not just him they see: it's the huge, looming shadow of Whitebeard himself. And until the world learns to see that shadow behind Ace, behind all of the ASL pirates, well, Thatch will stay right here.

The blue gull on the rail looks at Thatch expectantly, and Thatch lets it perch on his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen. Sanji glances up in surprise and squints at the bird, but doesn't say anything as he returns to preparing dessert for the ladies (it's a reminder that Thatch should be doing that too, or else the snot-nosed cook will one up him in earning the favor of Luffy, or at least her stomach). Thatch decides to make this quick, and grabs two cookies from the hidden cookie jar, as well as some parchment and a writing utensil.

Thatch knows Marco wants to know how they're doing, but well, the timing of the gull is awfully convenient, so he's taking advantage.

Dear Blue Chicken Sauteed in Pineapple Sauce, Thatch writes, taking advantage of the opportunity to write in "code," despite the lack of confidential information and low risk of one of Marco's blue gulls being stopped. He'll take every opportunity to tease, thank you.

The stove on this ship works great, and the fish is beautiful. Thatch's pen moves before he really thinks about what's coming out. She's stolen my heart, I think I want to marry her. Thatch pauses...huh, well, honestly he's not exaggerating, is he? He'll let Marco guess how serious he is. (he's suddenly uncomfortable because he's not sure how serious he is himself, but that's a thought for another time)

And now, the most important part of the letter: PS - I dropped my hair wax in the ocean. Can you send me an extra from my room?

Because, tragically, Thatch had--and now his beautiful pompadour is a sad mess that's tumbling down his shoulders. Thatch knows he could pick up another tub of hair wax on any of the islands they’ve stopped at, but he has standards, and he needs his special wax that he’s used for decades, which is unfortunately only found in the New World.

Which makes his current situation stuck in East Blue quite tragic, except it isn't quite as heart-breaking as Thatch had thought it'd be, once he realized how much Luffy likes playing with his loose locks, and the sheer number of times Thatch has been finding himself overboard recently would have made putting his hair up again after every time a pain--but well. It'd still be nice to have the familiar weight of his hair wax in his pocket again.

Thatch decides to omit the major change with himself since he last saw Marco that resulted in the hair wax being lost in the first place: the fact that he's eaten a devil fruit. Because that's a surprise. Thatch wants to see Marco's face when he realizes how badass Thatch has become, controlling Darkness of all things. (well, Thatch has to actually get good at it first, and stop almost drowning. It's coming along)

Thatch wraps one cookie in the letter, tying it into a neat parcel, and feeds the other to the bird as thanks for his services. The bird takes off as soon as Thatch opens the door.

Well, now Thatch has a lovely mermaid to feed, and a baby cook to outclass.

Thatch sees the next blue gull a week later, damn those things are fast. It's carrying a parcel this time, and Thatch reaches out gleefully, because he doesn't remember the last time he's had his hair down for this long and he can't wait to have his signature hair style once more.

The bird doesn't stick around this time, and instead just drops the parcel into Thatch's hands before wheeling back the way it came.

And...huh. The parcel's not the right size, or weight to be Thatch's hair wax.

Thatch squints suspiciously, as Ace comes to stand by him, staring after the gull. "Marco?" he asks, and Thatch grunts, already feeling grumpy and just knowing he's not gonna be thrilled by whatever Marco sent.

He opens the parcel, and inside is a little blue bauble, wrapped in Marco's infuriatingly precise, fancy shmancy handwriting.

Dear Soggy Bread, congratulations on graduating from a baguette. May you evolve into a better bread next time. PS - The stone's for baby brother^2.

Ace ignores Thatch's enraged yowl and plucks up the stone--before cursing and dropping it. Thatch's reflexes manage to catch it before it hits the deck--and he immediately knows why Ace dropped it in the first place.

The stone immediately feels weird, not necessarily in a bad way, but in a way that distinctively reminds Thatch of the sea. He's familiar with what the stone is, but not how it feels, and is reminded once again of his relatively new status as a devil fruit user. At Ace's questioning (and wary) look, Thatch explains, as a good older brother should.

It's a special stone made on Fishman island. There's a piece of seastone at its core, and then it's wrapped in a mix of glass and crystal. It's a luxury trinket popular with a lot of young mermaids, because it's pretty, but also feels like the essence of the ocean is in it, which can be immensely comforting to most merfolk and fishmen.

While not the purpose, the glass and crystal casing also ensures that devil fruit users can touch it without feeling weakened, though they can still sense the sea from it, hence why it feels weird.

Thatch hates, hates to admit it, but it's a ridiculously thoughtful (and expensive) gift for a mermaid devil fruit user who can't enjoy the sea directly, damn Marco for thinking of it first! The bastard's definitely teasing Thatch by trying to woo his crush from half a world away. Marco hasn't even met her, this is just a game to him, but Thatch's serious, damnit!!!

Thatch wishes he could be petty enough to lie and say the bauble is a gift from Thatch, but he can't, because as much of an asshole as Marco can be, Thatch still loves him. Sigh.

Luffy chooses that moment to slide across the deck to them like a playful sea lion, slamming into Ace's legs and snaking up him in a split second to peer over his shoulder at whatever her brother's looking at in Thatch's hand. Ace isn't fazed and doesn't even twitch.

Thatch sighs dramatically. Adorable little brothers and their adorable little brother^2s, damnit.

Thatch dutifully presents the little stone to Luffy, as Ace warns her not to drop it, it's gonna feel a bit weird ok. Thatch lets Ace take over rattling off the information he'd just conveyed, doing his own duty as Older Brother, and is instead transfixed by the way Luffy's eyes widen in wonder as she rolls the shiny thing from one hand to the other.

While Luffy's not really the type for jewelry or trinkets, it's clear she's enthralled by the stone, the way she is with few inanimate objects other than food. Thatch belatedly notices that the stone's a brilliant crystal teal, with shards of gold obscuring the dark seastone center, the same color as someone's Zoan form. Bastard.

"Who's it from?" Luffy asks, and Thatch knows he's told her about his crew before, but she's unlikely to have remembered any names.

He may not lie about who the gift's from, but it doesn't mean he can't take revenge.

"A pineapple man who can turn into a burning chicken," he says with a straight face, ignoring Ace's frantic gestures to abort.

Thatch finds out why moments later, as Luffy's eyes widen impossibly more, and he belatedly realizes that to Luffy (and probably only Luffy), he'd just made Marco sound like the coolest person on earth.

Thatch meets Ace's furious eyes apologetically even as Luffy's COOOOOL!!!!!! rips across deck, and they both sigh.

They're not looking forward to Luffy meeting Marco

Hope you enjoyed! As always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated and encourage me to create more for this AU! ^ ^

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

Read the next part: Marco’s Bauble, Part 2

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

#One Piece Mermaid AU #Whitebeard Pirates #Thatch #Marco #ThatchLu #MarLu #YukiPri rambles #genderbend #text headcanon #except it's honestly more of a short fic this time #is 2K a short fic idk #long post #longpost #Ace: all you needed to say was 'it's from an old dude with funny hair' and Luffy woulda forgotten about him in an instant!#but now she's excited and won't think about anything else!#Next she'll say she's always wanted a burning chicken on the crew!

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alwaysmychoices · 4 years

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So, I wrote a HC that was pretty angsty and messy about what would have happened if Ethan and MC started dating after Miami. I still think that would have happened, but I started wondering, “what would I have written if I was writing a cute HC about that?” Next thing I knew, it was 2 am and I was writing this on my phone from my bed.

So, here are all the cuter details about what I think would have happened if they started dating in Book 1.

Ethan & MC Dating after Miami - Cute Moments HC 💖

When Ethan and MC started a relationship in Miami, neither of them had any idea how hard those first six months would be. Between the fights and miscommunications, they were just trying to get to know each other while their personal lives went to hell.

There were breakups, makeups, passive aggressions, avoidance, and even a few rounds of silent treatments.

But there was a reason they always came back. Because, late at night, when they mulled over their loss, it wasn’t the bad things that they thought of - it was the good, the pure, and the four letter word on the tip of their tongue that brought them back to each other’s doorstep time and time again.

Because, when they were good, they were amazing.

Ethan loved to send MC flowers.

Before MC, he had never been the kind of man who sent flowers. They were messy, impermanent, and hard to enjoy when you spent all your time at work.

But one time, MC said she mentioned that she liked buying flowers because they allowed her to enjoy a piece of nature, even when she spent her whole day inside the hospital.

The first time he sent them, Ethan had made a real ass out of himself. He said something stupid at dinner, which lead to a fight. He had already worked it out with MC, and though she assured him it was alright, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he needed to do something to prove that he wasn’t such a jerk. On impulse, he ordered 2 dozen roses to be sent to her apartment.

When she got home to her roommates crowding around the prettiest rose bouquet she had ever seen, it didn’t even cross her mind that it could be for her - not until Elijah supplied the card addressed to her from a secret admirer.

Once she was alone, MC called Ethan to make sure it was really him. She couldn’t imagine him willingly ordering such a romantic gift, but she also couldn’t picture someone else giving it to her.

When she asked him if he bought the flowers, he tensed, afraid he’d accidentally risked their secrecy by sending it to her home, but he anxiously admitted that he did and asked if she liked them.

And when she said she loved them... he felt a feeling so unfamiliar he couldn’t classify it. He was so proud to be the one who sent them and so happy that he found a way to make her smile when he so often felt like he was always messing up with her. Right then, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time he sent her flowers.

And it wasn’t. He regularly sent her bouquets and only let up a little when her roommates became suspicious. Once, when MC was alone in his apartment dog sitting Jenner, he had a massive flower arrangement delivered to her with just the message “I miss you.”

To accommodate their busy schedules, date night usually meant going back to Ethan’s apartment with takeout, but after one too many nights of Thai delivery, Ethan decided to teach MC how to cook.

He was startled to realize she had absolutely no idea how to cook. How had she gotten this far into adulthood without this basic skill? Every week, he had a new recipe for them to try, and he would walk her through all the steps.

When Ethan concentrated on cooking, he got these little lines between his eyebrows. MC thought they were cute. Sometimes, she would smooth them out with her thumb to remind him to relax. Other times, she would kiss them. When she did that, he always became distracted. Once, he almost cut his hand because he was so wrapped up in her.

Ethan pretended to find this annoying, but whenever she did it, he showed a small smile that gave him away.

Their fights were usually brutal. They were both so smart and so stubborn that the fights became unwinnable.

And probably because of that, their debates were practically a force of nature.

More than once, they spent a whole Saturday afternoon half naked in Ethan’s apartment and debating the finer points of medical ethics or treatments for patients. They usually could reach an agreement, except when they debated pineapple on pizza.

They pushed each other.

They made each other better doctors for having worked together and better people for having known each other.

Perhaps more importantly, they cared about each other. Even when they were locked in a disagreement or feigning disinterest, they cared. If the other needed them, they were there.

They needed each other more than they would admit. Very quickly, MC became Ethan's rock as they treated Naveen. She was the only one who could understand what he was going through.

MC was nervous to tell Ethan about being sabotaged at work. She didn't want him to think of her as the kind of person who blamed someone else for her mistakes, but when Landry was exposed as a traitor, she was devastated and just wanted Ethan to comfort her.

When he found out all that Landry did, Ethan was furious. Beyond hurting his girlfriend, he had endangered dozens of patients and the stability of the whole hospital.

But he was also hurt that MC hadn't told him.

Ethan realized that he wanted to be the person she shared her problems with. He wanted to be her person, just like she was his.

MC was surprised that, when it came to someone insulting or hurting her, Ethan was always on her side - even when she was equally as guilty. Once, MC complained that an attending made a sexist, offhand comment during rounds. Ethan never liked that attending again. When someone hit on MC and made her uncomfortable when they were at a bar together, Ethan told him off and forced him to leave.

Ethan was equally surprised by how jealous MC could get. He rarely noticed when women flirted with him, so it took him a few months to detect MC's jealousy. The first time he saw it, they were having a drink at a bar. A woman was very shamelessly coming onto him, though she didn't get much of Ethan's attention, but MC looked furious. Every time the woman came over to talk to them, MC moved just a little bit closer until she was almost in his lap.

When he took MC home, he commented on it, assuring her that he was only there for her, but MC grumbled that it happened all the time and that he didn't notice.

So, he started paying attention, and wow, it happened way more often than he thought. Even patients flirted with him, earning a glare from MC.

Once, when Ethan and MC were in the middle of a really big fight, Ethan caught MC staring at him at Donahue’s. To get a rise out of her, Ethan started flirting with the woman sitting a few seats down at the bar. MC was outraged. Thirty minutes later, when he got up to leave, MC followed him out, and they yelled at each other in the ally. And then they made out in the ally and had sex in the back of his car.

The next morning, they acted like nothing happened at work.

In fact, that was usually how they acted at work.

But at the beginning of their relationship, there were plenty of cute moments to be had at Edenbrook.

Like when their hands would accidentally brush when looking over a chart. Or when Ethan's breath hit her neck when he looked over her shoulder to see if she was doing something right. Or secret meetings in his office under the guise of needing to talk about a patient.

But MC thought the sweetest moments where the ones when he would see her coming down the hall, and just for a second, his face soften and warm to her. Almost immediately after, his face would harden again as he got back to work. But in that short little moment, MC knew she made him happy.

Keeping the secret was so hard, especially when MC was always under the watchful eyes of her roommates and friends.

They were all convinced she was in love with someone and joked that she had a secret boyfriend. MC laughed along, but they never actually thought it was Dr. Ramsey.

To make it a little less obvious, she always joined in when they complained about him.

Ethan noticed and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t stop her.

The only person who noticed in Ethan’s life was Naveen, but Ethan skillfully dodged the question whenever he could.

However, they had almost been caught so many times, in and out of the hospital. Even at the farmer’s market, they weren’t safe from a coworker finding them and innocently approaching.

MC always looked around before she kissed him, and Ethan had to be at least 5 miles from the hospital to show any display of affection, not that he particularly liked public displays of affection in the first place.

MC knew that she loved Ethan before she even really knew him, which was terrifying. She worried that, one day, she would learn some horrible fact or realize some unforgiveable trait. Ethan, on the other hand, never imagined that MC would become ruined in his eyes. He didn't think she could. No, he worried that he would be the one to make the mistake.

Both them harbored a lot of insecurities in their relationship - insecurities that held them back.

When they shed them, even just for the night, it was incredible.

Some of the best nights were spent wine-drunk, oversharing hundreds of little details that shaped who they were. MC liked hearing about Ethan's childhood, and she frequently needled him about his mysterious past relationship with Harper. Ethan wanted to know everything about her adult life before him, even when it included ex-boyfriends he instinctively hated.

When their relationship settled into comfortable, stable commitment, they still had nights like that.

Even when they moved in together, they sometimes picked out a bottle of wine, finished the whole thing, and spent the second bottle of wine sharing stories and experiences.

That was when it felt real. That was what reminded them that this was magic - that this was love.

@stateofgracious I think this was kinda cute, so maybe I can do some cute ones 🤞

#Ethan Ramsey #Ethan Ramsey x mc #Open Heart #Open heart 2 #choices #choices stories you play #pixelberry

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aperrywilliams · 4 years

Text

The Request - Part II (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist - Requests

Part I / Part II / Part III

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Reader is the Spencer’s best friend and although she has some doubts she'll ask him to do something big for her.

Word Count: 4312.

Warnings: Hospital and pregnancy topics. Some curses. References to masturbating. Slight smut. Fluff and angst mixed. I don’t know how to do a ‘pure’ type!

A/N: Thank you for your comments and feelings about – now- Part I. But, I have big troubles to do things short so is why this fic will have 3 parts. Like always, impressions, comments and any reaction are welcomed. Thanks for reading! Don't worry, this will have a happy ending. If you want to be in the taglist for this one, let me know!

——————–

I don't deserve a friend like Spencer. I have always been able to count on him, even in the darkest moments of recent years. I would say he is the only person, besides my mother, who knows me so well. Our friendship started almost immediately after I joined BAU over 4 years ago.

It's true when they say the BAU becomes your family. I feel that way too, but with Spencer it was something more special. The first time we talked, I remember being impressed by the amount of knowledge that was in that brain and it was coming out of his mouth. I understood pretty quickly why they called him the ‘resident genius’, and when the rest of the team seems fed up with Spencer's ramblings already, I enjoy them to this day.

In addition to his big brain, something that sets Spencer Reid apart is his kind heart, his genuine concern for people. I'm not saying the rest of the team don't have it, but everything seems so transparent and genuine on Spencer. Over time I learned his good heart persisted despite all the suffering he had to face from an early age. His resilience still amazes me.

I can say I’m one of the lucky people who earned his unconditional love and friendship. His concern and loyalty are bulletproofed. Sometimes I feel bad for not being able to retribute even a small part of what he has given me in all these years. And more now, asking him for something so personal and untimely. I’m not proud of that. I didn’t want Spencer to feel compelled to give me a positive response to my request. But I couldn't have thought of anyone other than him.

Why him? I have asked myself that question several times. I suppose because our friendship goes far beyond what I could have with another person. And yes, I must confess this also confuses me sometimes. I started thinking about that again after what happened with Darren.

I'm not going to lie, when I started working in the BAU I was attracted to Spencer. To some extent I assumed I was mistaking admiration for attraction. I accepted it that way. I was starting a relationship and didn't want to mess up things at work, so I just assumed my feelings toward Spencer were admiration, care and concern. I became convinced of that through the years.

But now my world has completely collapsed. The emotional stability I was used to just disappeared. What I believed was safe in my life no longer exists. Dreams, goals... all in doubt and suspense. What do I want for my life now? I still have my job, I have my friends. Is that enough? Is it normal there were days when I just want to just breathe and not have to make any decisions? Not to have to worry about what I would do the next day? The feeling of floating in an emptiness consumed me much of the time after my breakup with Darren. I had to rethink what things I wanted for my life. Refloat my own wishes stored in a drawer.

I think my big conclusion from all of this was I have to do the things I want to do. Don't give up, even if I fail. Losing the fear of failure. My efforts are on that now. I’m not taking this lightly. Of course I thought about all that it means to bring a new life to the world. Or at least in the possibility of doing it. That is one of my biggest wishes kept in the drawer. And while it may not work, I don't want to get the feeling that I didn't try, that I didn't put any effort into it. I know, they are not the ideal conditions, but after all ... is there an ideal condition for this?

My own internal ramblings were interrupted when I saw Spencer walking towards me. We take the morning off to come to the clinic to do new tests and take samples. Of course, we only told the team that Spencer would come with me to the doctor since I hadn't been feeling well. Nor was it a complete lie.

“Hey…”. He sat down in a chair next to me.

“Hi…”. I replied with a smile and looking at him.

“Have you been waiting for me for too long?”. Spencer glanced his watch to calculate the time he have been away.

"Not. I left the lab no more than 20 minutes ago.”

"And are you okay? Was it painful?". Despite the fact that I had previously explained to him what the procedure would be, he was still worried.

"Yes, I'm fine. It was not painful. Uncomfortable yes. How did it go for you?”. I also knew what the procedure would be for him, but I thought it was kind of me to ask.

“Well… it’s not so easy jerking off and cuming in a small cup. You need to do some magic to accomplish that”. A blush in his cheeks told me he was some embarrassed.

“I thought men could easy to get that kind of task done.” I joked. Spencer looked me with a shy smile.

“Not really. It’s not a natural environment if you know what I mean.”

"Uhm, I thought this kind of places had all the supplies needed to do that."

“Not all... I think.”. Spencer sighed heavily.

“A comfortable chair?”

“Yes”

“A TV with porn on it?”

“Yes”

"Naked woman’s printed magazines?”

“Yes”

“What they forgot?”. I couldn’t help to laugh.

“You could think every men are the same. But things that turn us on are not the same, you know?”

“Ok. I get it. I’m sorry if I’m pushing too much”.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry. What happen now?”

“We need to wait. Results will be ready in a couple of days… and, we’ll need to do this again if doctor agree with the treatment. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Whatever it’s needed. You know that, right?”. He looked at me with an open smile.

This man is gold. I could only reply with an intense kiss on his cheek and barely modulating a ‘thank you’ with my lips.

The days progressed and we had little time to worry about the results of the tests. Three cases on completely opposite sides of the country kept us pretty busy. When I returned from the third case to my place, I received a call from the fertility clinic saying the doctor had analyzed our results and that if we started treatment promptly, we would have a chance of having a successful result. I immediately called Spencer to tell him. I was so happy.

Without hesitation, Spencer took a treatment to strengthen his production of ‘little geniuses’. For my part, I had to face a series of injections with hormones and supplements. I had to make changes to my diet and try to be 'healthier' in my daily life. I did it without protest. However, the hormonal pump had me at the limit of the bearable. Those days before the 'implantation' were a torture, and not only for me, but for everyone around me. The team and Spencer himself included.

One day I was in the conference room crying without stopping. Every person who came to ask me what was happening received a yell from me and a 'leave me alone' in response. It was evident that it didn’t go unnoticed. What's more, I'm sure they went to ask Spencer what the hell was wrong with me. I couldn't control myself. From one moment to the next, Spencer entered the room and saw I was sitting in one of the chairs with my head between my knees and covering my head with both hands so that no one would see me.

"(Y/N)..." he said sitting in front on me and taking one of my arms so I stopped covering my head.

"I know what you are going to say. But I can't help it. I'm sure they already asked you what was happening to me.”

"Yes... they are worried."

"What did you tell them?"

"That you were going through difficult days, that your doctor had adjusted your medication doses and that had you out of balance."

“Thank you…” I muttered. “Fuck Spencer! This stupid hormones!... I’m crying and can’t stop...”. I felt my body tremble because I couldn't stop crying.

“I’m sure it’s pretty normal...”. Spencer tried to hug me to try to calm me down.

“Normal or not I don’t like it...”. I replied letting out hard sobs.

“Eventually you’ll feel better soon...”. I know he was trying to reassure me, but in my anger blindness I didn’t get it.

“I don’t want feel better soon... I WANT IT NOW!”. I yelled him. It was a shout too loud for he jumped up and stopped hugging me.

“Maybe if you go home and try to sleep...”. Spencer wasn't giving up trying to calm me down.

“Damn it Spencer! I just need to blow up!. Leave me alone!”

“Okay”.

That was his last attempt. He got up from the chair and walked to the door to leave me alone with my outburst. At that moment I realized what I did. I quickly got up and grabbed his forearm to stop him.

“Sorry. Spencer, I'm so sorry. Really, please don't go. I know you are trying to help me. Please forgive me…”

I started crying again. He came closer and hugged me again. This time I accepted his embrace, sinking my head into his chest. I felt so overwhelmed and not clear why.

"You will be fine. You just have to be patient. You have received 5 times the amount of hormones that your body is usually used to having. That affects your ability to handle emotions, among other things. That is why you do not even know why there is times when you feel like this. But I can assure you this effect will diminish, especially after the 'procedure'. Your body will slowly adjust to this.”

I just let out a sigh. The tears stopped falling and I looked at my guardian angel right in his eyes.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you." I rose over my feet and gave him a soft kiss on his lips. He said nothing. I could only see some confusion in his eyes. I'm also not sure why I did it, but it was what I felt I should do. Spencer was about to say something, but at that moment Penelope entered with something in her hands.

"Boy Wonder told us you were not feeling so well, so I made you this hot chocolate. I'm sure you’ll feel better with this". She said that, handing me the mug.

"Thank you Penelope. And, please forgive me for how I treated you today"

"Don't worry my little one, we've all been through bad days, right, Boy Wonder?". Spencer nodded, with his hands in his pockets.

"Well, I'll go back to my desk. If you need anything else (Y/N), let me know." Saying so, he left the room.

Spencer was right. After the fertilization procedure, my hormones started to regulate a little, as well as my mood. Although the procedure was quite uncomfortable, at all times he was with me. I had to ask for a few days of leave in order to recover a little. Those days the team was out of city for a case. Spencer called me every night to ask me how I was doing. I didn't want to admit it, but I was anxious.

In addition to the anticipation, there was something more stuck in my head. I began to see my relationship with Spencer differently. I mean, it's not that we stopped being friends from one day to the next, but I felt the need to be close to him all the time. I tried to explain that thinking my emotions were totally distorted. It was possible. But without realizing it, I began to notice things about him that I had not taken attention before. His eyes seemed more beautiful to me than before, they spread a serenity that I had not found before. His smile was able to lift my spirits even though it might be the worst day of my life. Feeling his hands stroking my back gave me pleasure and calm. Every time he hugged me it was like feeling at home. What was happening to me?

I was scared to think I could be "using" Spencer to overcome my breakup. Many months had passed since that. But this felt different. Ours was a kind of complicity that I hardly managed with Darren in the years we were together. This was really starting to confuse me. Spencer was right. This was going to change the relationship between us, but I didn't think the result would be to start falling in love with Spencer Reid. Maybe I was very naive thinking that I could separate things well. The worst thing was that I didn't even know how to identify what I was feeling in first place. Eventually we could have a child together. How could it not have occurred to me that this could have unexpected consequences between us?

The days passed and to avoid getting more confused, I tried to put some distance between us. He did the same. We spent less time together, talked less on the jet, came less frequently to my apartment. Although at all times he never stopped worrying about me, how I felt or if I had pain.

That afternoon of March rained incessantly. Almost at the end of winter it seemed that heaven wanted to tell me something and I was not going to like it. I was sitting in the doctor's office. This time I didn't ask Spencer to come with me. My hands were sweating, my legs were shaking. I knew what the conversation would be about. Throughout the post-insemination cycle there were no signs of pregnancy. Only the confirmation of the doctor was missing to clear my suspicions.

"Sorry. In this process we try all possible methods trying not to be so aggressive with your body. But the results are not as expected. At this point it is minimally likely that you can get pregnant. Now maybe you could try… ”. Before he continued speaking I interrupted him.

"Thank you Doctor. For now I think that's it. I don't feel able to do anything else. Maybe… I don't know, at another time… ” I tried to say it with the utmost integrity that my broken heart and body allowed me.

"It’s okay. I’ll be available for any questions you may have. I'm sorry again."

And so my hopes were shattered into a thousand pieces. I expected it, but hearing it was much more painful than I thought. To try to calm down I started walking aimlessly in the incessant rain for a few hours. I didn't mind being soaked, at least that way no one would notice my tears falling.

If I wanted to, my feet took me to the place where I knew I could find comfort. I went upstairs to the second floor and knocked on the door. Quickly it opened, revealing a worried Spencer seeing how I was in front of him completely soaked and with my eyes puffy. Without hesitation he pulled me into the apartment, closed the door, and hugged me.

"Spencer, don't hug me, I'm soaked." I said as I raised my arms so he couldn´t touch me.

"I don’t care. Come here." He knew. He knew exactly what was going on. "Sorry, I'm so sorry," he said as he kissed my forehead.

"Me too. I really thought it might work…” My strength was over at that moment. I collapsed crying in his arms.

"It's okay. Cry all you need to. I’m here".

Spencer tried to comfort me by stroking my back and whispering words of encouragement into my ear. I spent a few minutes sobbing in his arms, until he broke the hug when he noticed that I was starting to shiver.

"Come, let's dry you and change your clothes"

And we did that. He took me to the bathroom and let me take a shower. He went to his room and looked for some clothes that I could wear. He left everything tidy on the table beside the toilet, along with a towel and left the bathroom.

The hot water helped me compose myself a little. I dried myself and put on the clothes Spencer had left for me. I got out of the bathroom and saw him in the kitchen making coffee and something to eat.

Without saying a word I sat next to the table. Spencer joined me, leaving two mugs of coffee and sandwiches on the table. He sat next to me and took my hand.

"You need to eat. If you don't want to talk, that's fine.”

"Thank you. You know what this is about, though, right?”

"Yes I know. So I don't want to pressure you to have something to say."

"I'm just disappointed. And although I expected it, it doesn't stop hurting less. I really wanted it to work.” Tears no longer came out of my eyes. Just sighs from my chest.

"Me too" he confessed.

"Really?. Don't you feel even a little relief? ... after all it was a life for this world. It is not a small thing. You said it before.” Surely my voice sounded hurtful but I didn't know why.

"Of course not. It was something you wanted… and I was determined to give it to you if it was within my reach.” He didn't even hesitate to answer.

"Why? Because are you my friend?". Spencer looked at me oddly. It was not an expected question for him.

"Yes of course. Because we are friends. Because I want to see you happy." I should have stuck with that answer, but for some reason I wanted to keep pushing.

"Only for that? There is no other reason?". I really didn't know why I was doing this. But I couldn't stop.

"What do you want to ask me (Y/N)? Whatever is in your head, just say it." I could feel Spencer becoming uncomfortable with the conversation.

"Are you going to deny that you have feelings for me?". His eyes widened suddenly, but I didn't see any intention that he was going to say a word, so I kept talking. "Are you going to tell me that in all these years you never thought of me as more than a friend? Did it not occur to you to have something with me?"

I know I was being unfair. I was projecting my own revived desires onto him. But I couldn't help it. His demeanor changed to a much more defensive one.

"Does that matter now? Do you really care now how I feel about you?". That was a revelation that I didn't expect to hear so quickly.

"Of course I care. I always cared. I've always cared about you, Spencer."

"If it really were like that, you wouldn't be asking me these questions right now when you know I can´t answer those." He said, standing up from his chair, walking and leaning himself against one of the walls looking out the window avoiding my gaze.

“Why can't you answer my questions now? Because am I hurt? Because do I have to accept that there are things that I won't be able to have in my life, no matter how much I want them? Because do I look vulnerable?”

“Exactly. This is not the time for that.”

“I just want the truth Spencer. I'm tired of assuming things, of false hopes, of not having any fucking certainty in my life.”

Spencer looked at me with sadness in his eyes. I'm sure he evaluated all the possibilities in seconds before saying anything.

“Do you want the truth? It's okay. I will tell you the truth. I've been in love with you for years!. I've been trying for years to convince myself that the best way to be by your side is by being your friend and leaning on what you need!. I have believed for years that I have done my best to make you happy. And one day you come and ask me to be the father of your child... or rather, the sperm donor.

And if I told you that this was not the time to talk about this, I’m not going to stop now. I told you this was going to change things between us. And now, no matter how hard we put it into making it ... it didn't work. And not only you lost (Y/N). I lost too. I lost my friend, I lost the only thing that kept me happy, which was to make you happy and I lost the secret hope of being the father of a child with you.”

After saying all that, Spencer walked over to the couch and sat with his hands on his knees and head facing the floor. I was speechless. I pushed so hard that now I had a love confession and the person I love the most in this world hurt because of me.

Perhaps if the words were not enough, the actions could help express what I was feeling at the moment. I walked over to the couch and sat next to him. I took one of his hands and squeezed it to look at me. When he did, I moved closer and my lips brushed his. I stayed still a few seconds waiting for his reaction. He did nothing, just closed his eyes.

Without waiting any longer, I let myself go and now I caught his lips with mine kissing him with all the intensity I could. He tried to keep still, but began to reciprocate the kiss with almost the same desire that I felt at that moment.

We started making out in his couch. His hands taking my cheeks. My hands around his neck playing with his hair. Needy kisses, clumsy kisses, intense kisses. All at the same time. I felt wanted. I felt loved. Was it the same as I felt? I had trouble thinking about it in that precise moment. I just knew I needed to feel it, that I needed him. My body and heart had become dependent on Spencer Reid. And that moment, I didn't mind accept it anymore. Between kisses Spencer tried to speak.

“You asked weeks ago about what turn me on. The answer is you. You drive me crazy in all possible ways. You can’t even imagine the whole picture. It’s so frustrating and so addicting at the same time.” He said this words as his lips traveled from mine to the skin of my neck and my collarbone.

“Please, show me… show me how you love me.”. I was begging him to take me right then.

“This is what you want?”. As much as desire consumed us both at the time, he wasn't going to do anything that I didn't agree with. So I tried to be as explicit as possible.

“Yes. I need to feel you. Make me feel again.”

“This is not a solution, you know?”. Spencer said as he took the edge of the shirt I was wearing and pulled it out. Meanwhile I released his tie and unbuttoned his dress shirt.

“I know, but it helps. Please, just do something.”

That was enough for him. He got up from the sofa, took me in his arms and carried me to his bedroom. He gently laid me down on the mattress, while he began to remove the clothes that were still in my body. He did the same with his garments. He lay down next to me, touching softly my body and looking for my needy lips.

“I could keep touching you all night long, do you know that?”. His raspy voice was almost a whisper in my ear.

“Prove it. Show me you mean it”. Desperate to feel him I just wanted him to not stop kissing or touching me.

“You will gone in the morning”. He said as his fingertips explored the skin between my legs.

“This matters now?”. Spencer shook his head as his fingers moved dangerously to my wet core. The sensation was so pleasant that moans escaped my mouth and I could stop them.

“No. If this my only chance. So be it”. Without leaving his ministration in my body his lips caught one of my breasts, sucking the nipple and letting out moans that made my skin vibrate in pure ecstasies.

“Are… you expecting… I say it back?”. I managed to ask although I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear the answer.

“No. I’m not expecting anything right now…just I want make you feel good. This is enough for me”

“Spencer, I never… wanted to hurt you…”. Even though my senses were lost between pleasure and lust, I felt like I should tell him anyway.

“I did this to myself… nothing to apologize”.

That was the end of our talk. After that the room filled with only moans, gasps and our names sliding from each other's mouth. If I had to describe the moment, I must say the times that I could have fantasized about something like this, they didn't come any close to the reality.

I felt alive again. The warmth of his body was like firewood for my cracked humanity. I let myself go and I let myself be loved. Spencer showed me exactly what his words said earlier. He meant it. And the only way I could think of to show him I cared too was giving him my body and soul that night.

———-

Taglist: @mortallythoughtfulgurl @cielo1984@blameitonthenight21 @icantevenanymore1 @hopebaker @eternalharry @britishspidey @tiktokslut @jessydestroy @mollygetssherlockcoffee @colalcherryhunt @fukyouthink

———-

A/N 2: Reader is still confused about her feelings to Spencer and she will talk to someone of the team about it. Who you think must be this person?

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut

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st-fandom-imagines · 5 years

Text

Never The Same

TRIGGER WARNING- SEXAUL ASSUALT I hope you like what I wrote and how I wrote it, I hope this is what you were looking for :) I need some more requests guys, don't be scared, almost nothing you could request is off limits. The prompt list is here if you wanted to send a request from that but you don't have to! ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Request- @wtfdavidsvlogsreply asked: 5, 6, 13, 29, 30. Sorry, I know that’s a lot but I was thinking like Billy badly hurt the reader in an attempt to sexually force himself on her and She’s currently dating Steve so he gets really upset that he wasn’t there to help her so like angsty at the beginning and then fluffy at the end?? It’s okay if you don’t want to write this with the assault issue in the plot. Thanks so much!! 5-“You’re safe now.” 6-“No ones gunna hurt you.” 13-“Who did this.” 29-“It’s okay to cry.” 30-“Is that blood?” ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Being nineteen with no car, truly sucked. I have to ride my bike everywhere, in the small town of Hawkins where everyone knows everyone, I was the girl they all laughed at when I road down the road next to twelve year olds. When Steve and I started dating he offered to drive me whenever I needed so I didn’t have do fave such silly humiliation, but ever since he started his summer job it’s gotten harder. I get off work at the library at seven when it closes while he gets off at nine while the mall closes. Some days he will get off early or switch with Robin so we can get out at around the same time but it’s been hard. I usually don’t mind at night, less parents and kids are out to see me but more teenagers and adults my age are out. “Hey babe, need a ride?” I heard a familiar voice ask as a car rode up next to me. I rolled my eyes and kept peddling on the side walk as I saw Billy in the drivers seat of the car. Billy was relentless, always has been and probably always will be. He was attached to me only for the reason that he knows it pisses off Steve. “No thanks, I’m almost home anyway.” I lied, hoping he wouldn’t know where I lived. I heard his car stop, shut off to be exact and I just kept peddling, knowing that he was probably getting out of his car to bother me more. Before I knew what was happened, Billy pulled me off of my bike by my arm and started dragging me towards his car. “You are such a bad liar.” He laughed as I was punching his arm that was holding mine, as I tried to weight myself down so he couldn’t take me with him. I had never seen Billy like this, he had never touched me before, he would usually just curse at me and drive off. Once we got to his car he shoved me on the hood of it, and stood between my legs. I tried clamping my legs shut, not allowing him to stand there, but he shoved them open, his nails digging into my inner thighs making me wince in pain. “Billy, stop!” I yelled making him cover my mouth with one hand as the other tried to pull my shirt out of my pants. I bit Billy’s hand that was over my mouth causing him to slap me across the face. “Little bitch.” He swore as tears started to well up in my eyes. We were on the middle of the street, houses all around us and not one person was seeing what was happening. As Billy tried to unbutton my shorts, I knew that I only had one shot to get away. As soon as he got to the zipper of my shorts, I raised one of my knees up and nailed him right in the crotch making everything come to a fault as he doubled over in pain. I shoved him away from me as began screaming as loud as I could while I ran down the street, holding my shorts up as I ran, I saw lights turn on in houses, porch lights turn on, people had heard my screams. The only house close that I knew someone would be home at was the Byers. So I ran through the woods where Will had disappeared so long ago, where I could get to Steve’s house but no one would be home and I sure as hell wasnt going to wait outside for Billy to find me. Billy didn’t know these woods, not like I did. As soon as I reached the house and saw the Joyce’s and Jonathan’s shared car in the driveway. I ran to the front door and pounded on it as loud as I could, my body racked with sobs. The door opened to reveal Joyce in the doorway. “(Y/N), honey are you okay?” She comforted as she pulled me inside. I just shook my head no, not being able to form a sentence. She sat me down on the couch. I didn’t want to talk, I just wanted to feel safe. I saw Joyce look at me, blood on my thighs, a hand print of my face, my shorts undone and my hair and shirt a complete mess. I didn’t know what to do or say, it was like everything was in slow motion, I could see Joyce talking to me but I wasn’t hearing a thing, complete shock taking over my body. Jonathan must have been with Nancy and Will with his friends because they hadn’t come out to the living room, a good thing too, I didn’t want them to see me like this. I don’t know how long I was sitting there but before I knew it blue and red light illuminated the house as well as another set of highlights. I stopped crying immediately, not wanting to show weakness to anyone, especially anyone that would judge me. A panicked knock on the door broke me from my state, I grabbed Joyce’s hand as she went to answer the door. “No, it’s him.” I cried making her shake her head and walk over to the door. “It’s Hop and Steve, I called them.” She showed me as Steve rushed into the door and over to me while Hopped walked in behind him. Steve kneeled down on the floor in front of me, trying to grasp what had happened. “Kid nearly tackled me so he could get to the door first.” Hopper sighed as Steve looked me up and town with tears in his eyes, he was still in his Scoops Ahoy uniform, Robin just have let him leave early to see me. “Who did this?” Steve asked me as he cupped my face on the same side that Billy has smacked, the touches in the same place but so different. I didn’t say anything, I was still in shock, still terrified that Billy was going to come back. Steve continued to look me up and down, trying to see what damage has been done. Once he saw the blood and fingernail marks on my thighs, he lost it. “Is that blood?” Steve questioned, rage in his eyes. He knew who did this, he didn’t need me to answer him anymore, but Hopper did. Hopper saw the same things Steve did as he examined me, he was looking over Joyce’s shoulder as she told him what had happened, he knew I was assaulted, he also knew that he couldn’t examine me so Steve assessing my injuries were good enough for Hopper. He didn’t want to scare me anymore that I had been already tonight. “It was Billy, go arrest the son of a bitch, we are pressing charges.” Steve stated as he sat next to me on the couch, wrapping one arm around me. “I’m sorry Steve, I can’t do anything unless I hear her tell me who it was.” Hopper frowned, knowing his hands were tied in this one thing. There were a lot of lines that were blurred for Hopper, a lot of rules that he knew had to be broken but sexual assault was not one of them. “If she wants to press charges and this goes to a judge, I need to be able to say that she identified her attacker.” Hopper defended as Steve went to say something else. “It was Billy.” I simply squeaked out, and that was all Hopped needed. “Steve stay with her, Joyce make her some coffee or tea or give her a shot, the girl had been through hell tonight.” Hopper said as he left, going to take Billy into the police station. As soon as Joyce left the room to head to the kitchen, my body racked with sobs once again. “I’m so sorry (Y/N), so sorry that I couldn’t be there to stop him, that I couldn’t protect you. God, all because of some stupid job slinging ice cream.” He began to blame himself and beat himself up when he knew deep down it wasn’t his fault. “If you were there, he would have just waited until I was alone a different night.” I whispered, my voice shot from screaming. “She’s right. People like Billy won’t stop till they get what they want.” Joyce said as she came back over to us, three shot glasses in hand and a bottle of vodka in the other. “You’re safe now.” Steve tried to comfort me as I downed the shot that Joyce has handed me, my hands shaking slightly. “I get out of work, every day at six. I will pick you up every day that you need, okay? Now, I’m gunna go in the kitchen so you two can talk.” Joyce promised and sent me a small smile. Joyce loved all of us like we were her own, ever since Will had went missing, she knew she needed all the love she could get. “It’s okay to cry.” Steve said making me chuckle as I downed another shot, the liquor loosening me up. “I think I cried enough.” I responded making him take my hands into his. He locked eyes with mine, telling me that he was beyond serious. “This will never happen again, you have me, Hopper and Joyce. I’m so sorry this happened to you.” He whispered, his voice breaking slightly. Most women who were sexually assaulted don’t want to be near anyone of the same sex of her attacker until her attacker is in custody but Steve, Steve was different. I know he would never hurt me, never force me to do anything, never lay a hand on me. “Let’s go shower, I know Joyce won’t care.” Steve offered and for the first time I looked down at myself, my shirt loose from being pulled, blood down my legs, my shorts hanging loosely around my waist. I walked into the bathroom, Steve a few minutes behind me as he got me a change of clothes from Joyce. I was going to burn these clothes as soon as I got home. Steve had seen my body a million times over now but for some reason I felt shy, like it was strange for him to see me like this. “I’ll turn around, just let me know when you are in. I can still join you, right? I mean I won’t if you feel uncomfortable, I thought you would just want help or want me in there for stability. I’m just assuming things.” He rambled nervously as I stepped into the warm water, all my muscles relaxing at once. “Please come in here, I need to know you are here, you aren’t him Steve, you don’t scare me.” I responded making him strip outside the shower before stepping in with me. “No ones gunna hurt you, not again.” Steve swore as the blood ran off my body and down the drain, and I knew he was right. I knew he wouldn’t let anything happen to me after tonight, he wouldn’t leave my side unless he knew someone else was with me and I was okay with it. After tonight, I don’t know how long it will be until I’m close to okay again but one thing is for sure, I’ll never be the same.

#stranger things #stranger things season 3 #stranger things season 2 #stranger things season 1 #steve harrington #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #jim hopper #joyce byers

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elyvorg · 4 years

Note

In a non despair au, Shuichi ending up in a case leads himself into being kidnapped and tortured in a cruel way (in all forms, psychological, physical, mental and emotional), if he survives he’s left with permanent physical scars (lost few fingers or a leg) and broken beyond repair. Or worse case scenario where he does die, but left alone to die in a cold isolated. Kaito would be beyond shocked and furious. Kaede would do everything to comfort him and Maki would protect him.

Man, you really like tormenting Shuichi, don’t you? (I imagine this is probably the same anon as last time.)

Kaito would be beyond shocked and furious, but a lot of that fury would come from him desperately trying to cover up the unbearable pain he’s feeling that something this awful happened to one of his sidekicks - that he let it happen, even if, again, there was no reasonable way he could have ever prevented it. I can even see him being so overwhelmed with rage that he ends up kinda sorta turning a blind eye to Maki wanting to murder the people responsible for it (and then, if she does go through with that, thoroughly repressing his guilt over the knowledge that he should have stopped her and chose not to).

But, more importantly, if Shuichi survived (and let’s assume he does, because I talked quite a bit about Kaito’s reaction to Shuichi being killed in the previous ask), Kaito would do everything he could to support him.

I don’t want to imagine anything other than Kaito being one of the ones to rescue Shuichi from that hell in the first place, because Kaito would want that so badly - as soon as he realised what was happening to Shuichi, he would drop everything and unthinkingly take any risk necessary to get his sidekick out of there. So imagine the broken, exhausted Shuichi realising that it’s over and just collapsing into Kaito’s arms, sobbing in desperate relief and clinging to him like he never wants to let go, because Kaito is strong and reassuring and makes him finally feel safe now that he’s here. And no matter how bad things got, Shuichi would have always kept some vague, faint glimmer of hope that Kaito was going to come for him one day and save him from this, because that’s what Kaito does, isn’t it? Shuichi’s idolisation of him, which is usually pretty subtle and low-key especially in a non-despair AU, would be brought out more than ever by something like this. Kaito really is his hero.

Kaito, for his part, would also be an absolute mess of emotions, seeing the state Shuichi’s in, blaming himself for not having come sooner and having even let this happen to his sidekick in the first place. But he would fight harder than ever to suppress all of that from the surface so that he can give one of his big bright smiles and tell Shuichi that everything’s going to be all right now, like that’s just an obvious fact, because he knows Shuichi would need that from him more than ever right now. With Shuichi this broken, it might actually be the case, for once, that it genuinely is better for Kaito to appear to be completely invincible, and that it’d be harder for Shuichi to feel safe and begin to recover if he could see that Kaito was also hurt and lost and suffering because of this on some level. Which, oops, way to enable Kaito’s horribly unhealthy outlook on this kind of thing and make him never properly face or deal with the trauma that this has given him.

While rescuing Shuichi and telling him everything’s going to be okay and giving him the biggest longest most reassuring hug in the world, Kaito would also make sure to tell Shuichi how proud he is of him for simply managing to make it through this at all. He’d know that that’s the best way to help Shuichi find some semblance of his own strength again and believe that he’s not just a weak helpless victim but a survivor and so he’ll be able to overcome this in time. What matters in terms of who he is isn’t how much this hurt him, but just how he deals with it going forward. (A concept that Kaito would not understand if applied to himself, of course.)

I imagine Kaito would deliberately employ a more gentle kind of encouragement than he normally does as he supports Shuichi through the aftermath, at least at first. Shuichi would be fragile enough that he might not respond well to Kaito’s usual more forceful approach right now, and Kaito would realise this and tailor his support accordingly. He’s so good at that.

Shuichi’s dependent nature would be in full force after this, so he’d end up really really emotionally clinging to… well, to all of his friends, really, but especially to Kaito, since Kaito’s always openly presented himself as someone who’s there for Shuichi to rely on. Kaito would be 1000% okay with this (somewhat more than is healthy) and would straight-up put his astronaut career on hold for as long as necessary to help Shuichi get back on his feet, even if that was indefinitely. He’d never dream of abandoning his sidekick when Shuichi needs him by his side more than ever. He’d only get back to being an astronaut once he was absolutely sure Shuichi would be able to manage without him again. What if Shuichi had some kind of relapse of his PTSD over this and desperately needed Kaito while Kaito was stuck up in space and unable to be there for him? No. Unacceptable. Shuichi is even more important to him than space is.

Kaede and Maki would be there for Shuichi too, of course. Maki in particular might be better than you’d expect at supporting Shuichi through the aftermath, in ways that Kaito wouldn’t be able to. Remember, she was tortured during her assassin training, so she’d have a much better idea than anyone else of how he might be feeling based on her own personal experience and could offer coping methods that she’s found worked for her. Shuichi would probably really appreciate the chance to talk to someone who truly understands what he’s been through, and Maki would be happy that she could at least use her past suffering to be able to help in a way that only she can.

I also think you’re underestimating Shuichi’s strength to think he’d be broken beyond repair. He’s “weak” in the sense that things can hurt and scare him fairly easily, more so than for someone like Kaito, but we also see in canon that he has an incredible resilience and ability to keep going despite that, at least after he starts drawing on all the strength his friends give him. He’d be getting so much support from everyone to help him move on from this - and unlike a certain someone, Shuichi would be more than happy to rely on that support for as long as he needed to and would never try and push away people’s help. So, yes, the torture would severely break his spirit while it was happening, and he’d take a long time to recover from it in the aftermath and would always be scarred by it in some way. But I really do believe that, with the help of his many amazing supportive friends that he’s lucky enough to have, he’d eventually be able to regain something at least pretty close to his former levels of strength and stability. Shuichi always wants to get stronger than he is and to overcome his obstacles, so this would be no exception. It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d get there.

[Alternatively: how about if the roles were reversed?]

(Just as a note, we all have different tolerances for these kinds of things, and the thought of losing limbs in particular makes me somewhat uncomfortable to think about, hence why I glossed over that part. I’m fine with torture in and of itself - in fact, the psychological aspect of it is something I find particularly interesting to explore in fiction - but I prefer the specific physical methods to be kept fairly PG or at most PG-13. I don’t mind getting asks about darker themes like this, but do try and keep them below that PG-13 borderline for my sake, and I reserve the right to not answer anything that happens to wig me out too much.)

#danganronpa v3 #danganronpa v3 spoilers #shuichi saihara #kaito momota #maki harukawa #friends #my buttons #v3 aus #i sure took this as an excuse to talk about how wonderfully adorably supportive kaito is and i have no regrets #torture #mutilation #ptsd #man these are some content tags #lemme know if i need any others #Anonymous

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dinfeanoriel · 5 years

Text

Tempest Tossed

A Linked Universe fic I decided to write today when the idea hit me. It took a bit of a sad turn... Linked Universe belongs to Linked Universe and Jojo56830! I own nothing but my writing. ~~~~~~~

They’d noticed the gathering storm before it hit. There had been signs here and there. A shift in the wind, a drop in temperature, and the disturbance of the waters surrounding them. The roiling, thick, black clouds in the distance drew nearer and nearer until they had finally reached them.

The tumultuous downpour was the first to assault them followed by the harsh and vindictive winds.

The Links had done their best to prepare for it, but all but one of them was an expert sailor who knew what to expect. And so, it was up to the youngest of their group to lead and guide them through what they were to do.

Wind was piloting the vessel they had boarded only hours before, fighting to keep it steady as the unforgiving waves slammed against all sides. The ship rocked perilously back and forth, threatening to capsize them if they made a single wrong move. The sailor remained calm and focused, calling out terms the other Heroes were more-or-less familiar with.

Strangely, it was Four who would interpret them- his explanation being that he was well-read.

Legend, Warrior had noticed, had grown far paler than he thought possible, and he briefly feared he was growing seasick. He was also not moving, instead, he was clinging to one of the masts of the ship, murmuring to himself and eyes darting back and forth at the raging waters and vengeful storm. Never once did he move away from it.

“Legend!” Warrior shouted, fighting his way to the tense Hero. He stumbled when the ship listed sideways and would have fallen if he hadn’t caught hold of a rope whipping in the air. He saw Legend cower against the mast, ducking his head low and squeezing his eyes shut.

His breathing was sharp and unmeasured and his hand was clutching at his heart, telling Warrior he was on the brink of a panic attack. Never had the Knight seen Legend so unfettered and downright terrified!

It worried him. He knew something had triggered it. The storm? Maybe the ship? Legend hadn’t wanted to board it. He’d been extremely reluctant to. He knew it was a losing battle, and when Legend realized there was no getting out of it, he’d stormed aboard and disappeared into the hull.

Hyrule later reported that Legend was acting strangely. Out of character and antsy. The Links had wondered about it. Legend was nothing more than a ghost wandering aimlessly down below, arms wrapped tightly around himself and mutterings spewing from his lips.

They hadn’t paid it too much attention, but now, Warrior realized they should have noticed something was wrong. They should have looked deeper and seen that Legend wasn’t acting like his troublesome self.

There was something more to it. Something more to his reluctance and anxiousness. Seeing him now, nothing more than a quivering mess slumped against the mass, Warrior knew he needed to reach him. And fast!

None of the other Links had noticed. The Heroes were occupied with executing Wind’s commands.

A heavy box briefly distracted the Knight as the crate slid against the wooden deck, breezing past him and slamming against the railing. Warrior cringed when it splintered into pieces, the items within lost to the greedy sea. Turning back to his quailing friend, determination flared in Warrior’s eyes and he tightened his grip on the rope, using it to pull himself up towards Legend.

He planted one foot in front of the other, moving with caution. One eye was screwed shut against the wind and the other partially opened as he made his way to the main mast.

He grunted when he almost lost his grip due to the ship jerking left and throwing him forward. With a fierce scowl, Warrior swallowed back his own fear that sparked and threatened to ignite. He didn’t need to be an expert sailor to know the tempest was bad.

Very, very bad.

Warrior hadn’t missed the flicker of worry and concern that flashed across Wind’s otherwise steely visage.

“Steady!” The sailor cried out, straining his voice to be heard by everyone, “Keep her steady!” His knuckles were turning white from the vice-like grip he had on the handles of the steering wheel. “Pops!” He wouldn’t admit it aloud, but even Wind was questioning whether or not they would be able to ride out the storm. It was the worst he’d experienced on the Great Sea and he didn’t like how dark it was getting.

Something about it struck him as unnatural.

Time whipped his head in Wind’s direction upon hearing his name. His teeth grit together when his hair mercilessly lashed at his face and stabbed his single good eye, but he did not waver in his task.

“I need you here!”

Time immediately dropped what he was doing and forced his way to the upper deck. His feet were almost knocked out from beneath him by the wind, and Warrior was amazed by how Time managed the impossible feat of remaining upright. He soon joined the sailor at the wheel, and helped to keep it still.

A deafening groan resonated through the air when the ship careened to the left, and Warrior’s stomach plummeted when Four stumbled and crashed painfully against the wooden planks. His head smacked against the deck the same time a boisterous clap of thunder splintered the sky.

“Four!”

Twilight lunged, snatching the dazed Hero before he could slide down the slanted deck and into the wrathful ocean. He yanked him close, Four latching onto him with wide eyes and chest heaving.

Warrior breathed a sigh of relief, his heart thundering in his chest and pulsing in his ears.

That...had been a close call.

“Four, are you alright?!” Sky demanded to know, having heard Twilight’s cry but being unable to turn and see what was happening. Worry laced his tone and coated his words, the Skyloftian sitting back on his heels and yanking the rope he held with all his strength.

He was soaked to the bone, hair clinging to his face and neck and boots uncomfortably soggy. It was difficult to gain any traction from how wet the deck had become but he managed to succeed.

“He’s fine!” Twilight answered for the dazed Hero he had in his arms. The colorful Link was was collapsed against his chest, eyes fluttering and mind disoriented. Twilight worried his lower lip. Four had hit his head pretty hard. No doubt he probably got a concussion but no one was in the position of fetching a Red Potion. “But I think he’s out of commission!”

Not good.

Wild scowled and glared up into the blanket of darkness above them. Lightning flashed brilliantly, the thunder bellowing angrily in response. The Hero tugged strongly at the rope directing the sail with Sky’s aid.

They were both struggling to keep a good grasp on it. The abrupt movements of the ship and force of the wind weren’t doing them any favors.

“Hyrule! Where are you?!” Time’s deep voice hollered over the agonized wind. It comforted the Heroes to hear him. His steady and calm voice, reassuring presence, and composed appearance. How he managed to keep his cool in any given situation was beyond them, but the Heroes were grateful for the stability he gave them.

“Here!” A smaller voice replied. It was horribly distorted and warped but the Heroes were relieved to hear it.

Warrior plunged onwards, ignoring how the wind attempted to beat him back. He was intent on reaching Legend. When he’d finally got to him, his hand flew out to shake the stock still Legend from whatever panic had overtaken him, “Legend! Need you here, bud!”

Legend blinked then slowly raised his haunted eyes to meet Warrior. The Knight was stunned to see the intense conflict taking place within them.

“Warrior,”

It was the ghost of a whisper and the Captain had to strain his ears to catch it, but he did.

“It can’t happen again…”

Confusion furrowed Warrior’s brow at the shuddering words. Legend was looking worse for wear. Worse than usual. There was a fear in those cobalt blues he’d never before seen. A fear that spoke of a traumatizing past experience.

Warrior cursed to himself. The storm must have dredged up some unwanted memories at a most unprecedented and inopportune moment.

“Hey!” He briskly shook Legend, forcing the younger to look up at him again, “I need you to stay with me, alright?”

Legend swallowed thickly, gaze wandering past Warrior’s shoulder and to the stormy waters. The waves crashed into one another and slammed mercilessly against the surface and he tensed again.

Memories from several years ago crawled unbidden to his mind, forcing him to relive the terrifying nightmare he’d had to endure…

~~~~~~~

A small, struggling vessel caught amidst the chaos and confusion of the great and terrible storm that had suddenly swept in unannounced.

A young Hylian boy wearing tan breeches and long-sleeved undershirt beneath his green tunic, grunting as he fought to maintain control of his little boat.

Knowing his efforts were futile but trying anyways. Survival was all that mattered.

He was afraid. So deeply afraid that he wouldn’t make it out alive.

His breath caught and he pulled at the rope with his teeth clenched, praying that this next gigantic wave wouldn’t come crashing down on top of him and send him sinking into the deepest, darkest, depths of the ocean.

“-gend! Legend!”

~~~~~~~

Legend sucked in a sharp breath when the familiar voice that didn’t belong to this memory seeped into his mind, disturbing his thoughts and sending them skittering. It served to reign him back into the present, and when he snapped his head up, it was to find Warrior standing before him, a scowl fixed on his stern features.

He’d adopted his “Captain’s Persona,” as Wind dubbed it.

“Snap out of it!” The Knight sharply ordered him, giving him another shake, “I know it’s easier said than done, but if you don’t lend us a hand, we’re doomed!”

Legend knew he spoke nothing but the truth. But it was hard! Everywhere he looked, everything he saw, reminded him of his experience back then that had ended in disaster. None of them knew of Koholint. He’d kept all that encompassed that adventure to himself. A dark secret never to be revealed and one he would take down to the grave with him.

The breeze picked up without warning, growing in both speed and strength. The howling of the anguished winds swirled madly around the nine scattered about the deck. The fabric of their clothing flapped brutally against their skin, their hair whipping at their eyes and faces and leaving behind stinging reminders.

Muffled voices cried out in a mixture of alarm and urgency.

Legend exhaled shakily, closing his eyes and taking a moment to gather his wits together. If he didn’t want a repeat of that time, then the Heroes needed him to stay in the here-and-now. This boat was much bigger than his own had been and more likely to endure the brutality of the storm than his did.

The futile attempts to reassure himself fell flat. His stomach twisted and churned, sharp stabs of fear stealing his very breath away every time the ship would creak and groan or sway from the force of the wind and waves.

Saltwater spilled over the railings and onto the deck, soaking his and Warrior’s boots.

~~~~~~~

The foreboding wall of water rose tall and proud before him, monstrous in both size and grandeur. The Hylian stared in horror and dismay, his heart thumping once against his chest before plummeting deep down.

His features morphed into despair. He knew then and there that he would never make it home.

Was this how his life was to end? Was he to suffer an agonizing fate after all he had done for Hyrule as her Hero? Was this how the Goddess had chosen to repay her Chosen One? Were his sacrifices, his losses, his grief, and pain all for naught?

Where had he gone wrong?

~~~~~~~

“Come on, Legend!”

A strong hand anchoring him to the present once more grabbed hold of his arm, dragging him away from the mast he’d been clutching to.

“You’re sticking with me!”

Relief swamped over Legend at the words and he allowed Warrior to lead him away. The Knight never relinquished his grip. For that, Legend was grateful. He wasn’t sure if he trusted himself not to fall back into the past and lose himself in those horrific memories.

He swallowed back the paralyzing fear lingering at the edges of his mind. He licked his chapped lips and called above the wind, “Where are we going?”

Warrior spared him a look and brief, relieved, grin. He was glad to hear his voice.

“The sailor-”

And that’s as far as Warrior got when an explosion of white light blinded the both of them-

~~~~~~~

The vessel strove to remain upright in the raging ocean. The waves tossed and turned, thunderously crashing against the surface and nearly capsizing his boat more times than he cared to count. The storm was unrelenting. Lightning split the sky, flashing erratically. The thunder would bellow in retort, causing the Hylian to cringe and the coils of fear and dread to thicken in his stomach.

His heart pounded, his chest heaved. It was excruciating! Never had he felt such suffocating terror!

His boat began to ascend the daunting wave with agonizing slowness, foam and water sprinkling his face and drenching his already soaked form. This was a feat he’d already deemed impossible.

The bitter cold clutched him within its grasp and he shivered. Whether it was from the freezing temperature or from the immobilizing fear that gripped him, he did not know.

It didn’t truly matter.

There was no way he would make it. His boat was too small. But still, he tried. He wanted to live. He wanted to make it home! And so, he tried to believe.

As if the Goddess had decided to grant him a miracle, the straining vessel made it over the wave and skimmed along the top of it.

A flood of relief overcame him but before he could celebrate, a bright, blinding light caught his attention.

Dread and panic burst within him. His eyes grew wide with a shrill gasp as the mast of his little boat exploded into millions of pieces. Wood splintered, the sharp, deafening crack echoing in his ears and ringing in his mind before all went black…

~~~~~~~

Legend felt strangely light and airborne. In the distance, he could have sworn he heard an agonized cry and anguished shouts of despair and disbelief.

Was he the one screaming? It didn’t sound like him, but he knew the voice it belonged to. The name escaped him, but he knew it would later come to him.

His eyes were sealed tightly shut and his body flew back from whatever force had thrown it. His head rang, the fracturing of wood resonating in the air. He slapped his hands tighter against his head, flattening his pointed ears in order not to hear the terrible and familiar sound.

The painful collision with the wet and unforgiving deck jolted his body and Legend grunted from the impact.

Panicked calls of ‘Legend’ and ‘Warrior’ could barely be heard over the wailing wind brutally whipping at him.

Had it happened again? He couldn’t help but wonder, heart beating a frantic pace. He couldn’t think clearly. He couldn’t move. He was frozen in place, the turmoil he felt feeding the growing tempest within his own mind. His sense of reality started to slip and he desperately grabbed at it, trying to keep an air-tight lid on it.

“-end!” A strong voice shouted above the storm. Legend did not react, falling further into himself as he struggled and warred against the memories slipping through the cracks. He clutched to the seams threatening to burst apart. “Legend!”

Legend blearily blinked, fighting to clear his vision as he slowly lifted his head halfway. There was someone forcing their way through the storm towards him. An arm was cast over their face, protecting it from the items picked up by the wind, golden-blonde hair stabbing viciously at their eyes as they stubbornly moved one foot forward then the next, planting them firmly in the ground as they inched their way towards the fallen Hero.

Despite the blurriness of his vision, Legend would recognize that gold armor and the markings on that wise and stoic face anywhere. The scar that ran down one eye and the other eye that was never shut unless he were resting or lost in thought.

Time.

“Legend!” He hollered, asserting his powerful voice so that it carried and caressed Legend’s ears. His single, good, eye was squeezed shut, opening into a slit every few seconds and staring fixedly at Legend’s folded and pitiful form. He saw Legend looking at him, frantic and beyond anxious. He was scared.

The explosion had made him mostly deaf in his right ear, but his left had fared better.

He exhaled shakily as the unsettling realization sunk deep into his heart. The past had almost repeated itself. Lightning had struck the boat, but Legend was safe and sound. He was still on the vessel, not lost to the unforgiving sea.

He wasn’t being tossed and turned in the tumultuous waters, or dragged further into the depths of the ocean where he would drown and his body never to be found.

“Legend! You must move!” Time was pressing himself onward, intent on reaching the shaken Hero.

Legend blinked then snapped his head forward, eyes growing wide at the gap in the ship’s railing and scorch marks along the deck. His feet were only inches from the hole the seawater poured in from. He scrambled backwards, petrified.

The lightning...had done that?

Then again, lightning had been the reason his own little boat had been reduced to nothing but fragments of wood.

He swallowed thickly.

Too close.

That had been too close.

“Legend, please!” Hyrule’s tear-filled voice drifted to him, and Legend’s brow creased. Why was Hyrule crying? He was perfectly fine. A little rattled, but virtually unharmed. “We can’t lose you too!”

Wait…

They can’t…

Lose him too?

Horrified realization dawned on Legend just as Time arrived and crashed to his knees beside him. The older Link wrapped his arms tightly around the shell-shocked Hero, pulling him further away from the wide maw in the railing and chipped wood when Legend made to lung forward and see for himself what had become of his friend.

Saltwater spewed onto the deck but Legend didn’t notice.

His head felt light, his heart warring against what he had discovered.

This time, the storm hadn’t taken him.

This time, the lightning hadn’t destroyed his ship and left him to drift along the ocean on a single beam of wood.

This time, the Goddess had exercised mercy on him at the expense of another.

“NO!” Legend choked raggedly. His eyes stung, and not from the salt in the water that sprayed his face. He fought against Time’s hold on him. He kicked and struggled, refusing to believe the truth staring him in the face.

He knew... He knew deep down what it meant to be caught up in those waves in the middle of the great and terrible storm.

“NO!”

Wind promptly burst into tears, his small body quaking from the force of his sobs as he clung desperately to the wheel.

His big brother...

His big brother was gone. The Hero he looked up to and idolized. The Hero who took Wind under his wing and ensured he was safe and physically well. The one who would allow him to sit in his lap and fix his hair or just loosely wrap his arms around him.

Wind had always felt so safe and secure with him.

The Knight who would immediately shed his scarf and wrap it snugly around the sailor if he even shivered once.

The Knight Wind would no longer be able to see, to hug, or talk to. The Knight he’d grown to love and look up to as an older brother would no longer be there to wake him or listen to his stories or regal him with his own.

Wind would never forget. He would never forget the Hylian Captain, Warrior, or how his life was so cruelly ripped away by a single freak of nature.

Sky couldn’t wrap his mind around it. It felt so unreal- like a horrific dream. A nightmare. His mouth moved but couldn’t form words. The Skyloftian was at a loss. Devastation was all he knew and the Hero slowly lowered himself to the ground, weeping bitterly. He raised shaking hands to cradle his head, cobalt blues swimming with a multitude of emotions.

Hyrule was curled up against the railing, face hidden in his arms and knees drawn to his chest as bone-rattling sobs shook his form.

Wild was frozen. Twilight tense.

Both stood beside one another in disbelief and pain. Their hearts bled, the Heroes mourning the loss of their dearest friend.

Four was mumbling incoherently, words jumbling over each other and eyes flickering madly.

“He’s gone-”

“He’s dead-”

“How could this happen-”

“Please, no-”

Legend couldn’t bring himself to believe it.

“He...He’s not...” Legend began, only for his voice to fail him. His breathing picked up speed. His heart pounded. His mind swam as thoughts raced through it before going blank. “No...no...” He shook his head.

Legend knew death.

He’d seen it before.

He’d watched it take his Uncle.

He’d watched it steal his parents.

And now...

Death had taken his friend.

His comrade.

His brother.

Warrior...

Warrior was gone.

Legend’s expression crumpled, twisting into one of agonized grief and excruciating pain.

“Warrior!”

The strangled cry was carried by the winds, never to be answered or acknowledged by the one he hoped it would reach.

Time shut his eye against the tears that rose within them. He ground his teeth together, cursing the Goddess while crushing Legend to him. His long fingers wove into Legend’s hair, pillowing the younger Hero’s head to his shoulder as he exhaled shakily.

“Legend, you can’t-” His voice cracked and Time had to try again, softer this time, “He’s gone.”

Tears slipped down Legend’s grieved face, mingling with the rain as he slumped back against Time.

How could this be..?

Why..?

“Warrior’s gone…”

The Old Man was crying.

The sound pierced his heart and Legend knew then and there that it was true. This was no dream. It wasn’t even a nightmare. He wouldn’t wake to find himself marooned on an island with the others or traversing Wild’s world- where they’d been before.

And when he would wake, there would be something missing.

There would always be someone missing.

Legend had been fortunate this time.

The storm had taken something else. Something far more precious and irreplaceable.

It had taken Warrior in Legend’s stead.

#Linked Universe #linkeduniverse #Warrior #Legend #Sad #Legend of Zelda #Fanfic

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witkoa61 · 4 years

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Have You Ever Chapter 7

TITLE OF STORY: Have You Ever

CHAPTER NUMBER: Chapter 7

AUTHOR: Witkoa61

WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: Actor Tom

STORY GENRE: Drama, Action, Romance

STORY SUMMARY: Tom sees a woman fall from an overlook while hiking in a northern Wisconsin nature reserve. He goes to help her only to learn that her fall was no accident and the man that pushed her is not happy she survived the fall. The race is on to get out of the woods.

STORY RATING: Mature. Some strong language.

CHAPTER WARNINGS/TRIGGERS: None

It felt to Cady like Tom had been gone for much too long a time. She was also aware that she might not be able to trust her sense of time. It was becoming difficult for Cady to be able to tell the difference between consciousness and hallucination. She feared she may have hit her head during her fall the previous evening and was suffering ill effects from that. The injury to her leg was causing her so much pain that she had not thought about any other injury that she may have had. Relief washed over her when Tom returned to their makeshift camp.

“Where’d you go?” she inquired worriedly.

“I needed to gather some materials to assemble something that will help to get you and me out of here. I’m sorry. It took me longer than I expected to locate everything.” Tom replied as he dropped the items he was carrying.

Cady looked over the pile of material now lying at Tom’s feet. He had two branches maybe ten feet long each. He had 4 shorter branches that were about three feet long a piece. There was also a mass of some type of vine.

“I’m going to need to borrow my jumper for a minute. Is that ok?” Tom asked as he leaned down beside her.

“Your what?” Cady asked as she watched Tom reach for her splinted legs.

“Jumper. I think Americans might call them hoodies? I need to pull the string out of the hood. I need the string to tie the branches together. It’s to make a travois, or sled, to be able to get you out of these woods. I’ll make do with the vine when I run out of string.” Tom replied as he gently removed the hoodie from between her calves. Cady knew he was trying not to hurt her but she couldn’t hide her grimace caused by the pain of moving her leg just the smallest amount.

“I’m sorry! I’m trying not to hurt you. I really am.”

“You don’t need to apologize Tom. None of this is your fault.” Cady responded quietly. “I don’t know how I will ever be able to express how grateful I am to you.” Cady began to gently cry. She felt incredibly guilty about everything that had happened. It was also challenging for her to have to be so dependent upon someone she barely knew. She had always been proud of her ability to take care of herself.

“I’m so sorry you got caught up in this mess. Hell! I can’t believe I’m in this mess!”

Tom stopped what he was doing and looked over at Cady. Cady had expected him to ask eventually about what had happened the previous night. She watched various expressions go across his features: worry, curiosity, and then determination.

Tom finally asked the question. “What did happen last night Cady? Do you remember anything?”

“I still don’t remember falling or what happened prior to the fall. The last clear memory I have is arriving here, in the park, to take a short hike with my friend Gavin. I was running late. Work was crazy and I left late. I remember being a hurry because I didn’t want to leave Gavin sitting here alone. The hike had been my idea. Gavin’s not big on nature but he had agreed to meet me here.”

“What does Gavin look like?” Tom asked softly as he used the string from his hoodie to begin tying the branches of wood together.

“I guess you would call him average. He’s not handsome. He’s not ugly. Gavin is maybe 5’9” but he never seemed to feel awkward doing stuff with me. Some guys seem to act differently around me since I’m taller than they are. He has dark short hair. Clean shaven. Why?”

“He sounds like the guy that came down after you after the fall. Did you know he owned a weapon? Have you had problems with him before? Is he your boyfriend?” Cady could see that Tom was getting agitated. She wasn’t sure why. Surely it couldn’t have been Gavin to have done all of this. It had to have been some random attacker.

What if Gavin was hurt, or worse, somewhere else in the woods? “Um, no. Gavin and I are just friends. I haven’t really known him that long. We met a couple of months ago at a bar that I go to occasionally. I was at the bar by myself. He sat on the bar stool next to me. We realized we had a lot in common and spent the next couple hours talking. We’ve hung out a few times since then. He’s a decent guy. Not my type romantically but I enjoy being friends with him.” Cady replied. “I can’t believe that he would hurt me and I’ve never seen him carry any kind of weapon.”

“I didn’t get a great look at the guy. He came up from behind me while I was checking on you. I did get a couple good hits in and he took off. The guy definitely had a gun. I’m glad that he didn’t fire it.” Tom replied tersely. “Ok. I’m almost finished here. It’s probably, ok definitely, not going to be the most comfortable thing you’ve ever layed upon. It should make it easier for me to get you out of here.”

Tom walked over to where Cady was atop her stone bed.

“I think we may need to untie my legs so I can hop over to the sled.” Cady was beginning to worry about how much this small amount of movement was going to hurt. “Before we try moving, can I have some aspirin from your pack?”

“Sure, can you pass my pack over here to me?”

Cady threw her temporary pillow over toward Tom. The pack went sailing past him and landed a couple of feet beyond. Tom bent down to dig the requested medication out of the pack and to pick the pack up. Cady was in a lot of pain but not so much that she couldn’t appreciate her current view. She thought to herself that if she survived this adventure in the wild, she was going to write to Nike and ask them to thank whoever designed the sweatpants that were currently struggling to contain the perfect bottom within them. These weren’t your grandfather’s sweatpants. The cut of the fabric was not too snug but it was not baggy by any means either. It was obvious that Tom was in excellent physical shape.

“Ok. Here we are.” Tom said as he turned while standing up. Cady was pretty sure Tom had seen her gawking at him but he didn’t say anything. “We’re almost out of water but there should be enough left for you to take these.” He said as he handed the medication and the water bottle to her.

“Thanks.” She responded a bit shyly. She handed the empty water bottle back to Tom. “Ok. Let’s get me loaded up and get going. Tom had undone her splint and helped her to stand. “Um Tom? I feel stupid telling you this, but I really need to go. Can you help me to get over by that tree? I think if I lean against it, I should be able to do what I need to do.” Cady could feel her face flushing red. She hoped that Tom wouldn’t notice her blushing in the shady forest light.

“Oh! Yes of course! We’ll just take it nice and slow.” He helped her over to the nearby tree. Once she was steady on her feet, he gave her some space and walked a few feet away on the other side of the tree. Cady hobbled to the other side of the tree when she was finished. Tom jogged over to her and helped her over to the makeshift sled that he had assembled.

Cady was rather impressed by Tom’s handiwork. The sled was made of two long thin branches. The two branches were joined at one end by a branch about two feet long. This shorter branch provided stability to the front of the sled so that the two longer branches couldn’t move around as much. Three branches about three feet long each had been tied toward the further end of the sled. Tom had then used some of the vine to create a netting to help support Cady’s weight while she was on the sled. This netting was created between the three branches. Tom re splinted Cady’s leg. This time he splinted it to a short stick. He didn’t want to splint her two legs together again just in case he needed her to be able to get up and move about for some reason. Cady found the sled uncomfortable but not unbearable. She was relieved once they started moving.

“How are you doing back there?” Tom called out a few minutes later. He stopped to turn and check on Cady when he didn’t receive a response. Cady had passed out again. This worried Tom but she seemed to be breathing steadily and ok for the time being. Tom resumed pulling the sled.

He quickly became lost in his own thoughts. It was crazy how quickly one’s life could change. Tom usually enjoyed engaging in new experiences. This was part of the reason that he loved acting so much. Each character that he brought to life gave him the opportunity to learn from those characters. He had learned more about World War 1 filming War Horse than he had ever learned about that dreadful war in a classroom as a child. Each Shakespeare play that he participated in gave him an opportunity to delve more deeply into what Shakespeare was trying to get across in his works. It was one thing to read and study the plays. He had learned more about Shakespeare while performing the plays than he had during his studies alone. Tom smirked to himself at the irony that he had portrayed characters that had rescued others but he had never expected to become responsible for someone else’s life in real life.

He prayed that this was one role he would not screw up.

#tom hiddleston fanfiction #fan fiction #have you ever

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screamingatanemptyroom · 6 years

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Fictober 18 Day 17

Original Fiction

Prompt: “I’ll tell you but you’re not gonna like it.”

The Erin/Gerald story continues! (Should I just suck it up and come up with a title for it?) Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 Links

At Olivia’s urgent message, Gerald and Erin rushed over to the magical theory building.

As they moved, Erin couldn’t help but have the nagging feeling that they were being watched. She looked around, trying to keep her expression neutral. The path was well lit, with multiple lamps on either side keeping the area bright in a pale blue light, but just a few feet beyond the cobblestone under their feet was darkness. Despite her attempts to peer into it, she could see nothing. Getting more nervous, Erin kept her guard up as they walked, almost jumping out of her skin when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Gerald’s quiet voice in her ear immediately gave her a sense of calm.

“I feel like someone’s watching us out there, but it’s too dark. Even with physical reinforcement of my vision I can’t see anyone.”

“…”Gerald paused, and Erin felt a brief flash of embarrassment. What if she was just being paranoid? Before she could worry too much, he whispered again.

“Any particular direction?”

The last bit of tension left Erin as she realized he believed her. “To the left and partly behind us.”

He nodded. “Okay, give me a minute.” He seemed to be focusing inward, his steps becoming less coordinated. Concerned, Erin grabbed his arm and helped to keep him walking in a straight line.

Finally he shook his head, as if to clear it. “It’s Wilhemina.”

“You’re sure?”

Gerald thought it over before nodding. “Level 4 wind, level 3 fire, level 1 Illusion… unless there’s another student running around with the exact same powers.”

Erin cursed. “Seriously, does she have nothing better to do than to follow us around?”

“You assume she is following us, and not out here for other reasons…”

“Like student attack reasons?”

Gerald shook his head. “I’m not so sure, but it’s probably not good.”

He glanced down at her and chuckled briefly, causing her to frown.

“What’s so funny?” She followed his gaze and realized she was still holding onto his arm from where she had grabbed on to stabilize him earlier. Flushing, she let go and walked in front of him, hurrying to the magical theory building. Gerald silently followed behind her, a cheerful smile on his face.

They arrived at the location Olivia had called for them. In the light of the lanterns, they could make out a small, still form on the ground, wearing a female student uniform. Olivia knelt next to the victim, a gentle palm glowing in a pale healing light resting on their forehead. Her face was uncharacteristically grim, as she carefully studied the unconscious student. Erin caught sight of a silver sparkle around her neck, reflecting the magical lights around the walkway. Coming closer, she could see it was actually several silver chains with crystal pendants, swaying back and forth in the evening breeze. Olivia tucked them back into the collar of her uniform with a casual gesture, and looked up at the two new arrivals.

“It’s the same as before.” She shook her head sadly, looking at the young girl lying silently on the ground. “All of her powers are gone.”

Gerald stepped closer, his face strangely blank. “What were her abilities?”

“I’m not sure.” Olivia shrugged. “We can probably check their records. Why does it matter?”

“…” Gerald was staring off into the distance and didn’t answer.

Uncomfortable, Erin knelt down by the other girl to study the latest victim. She was younger, likely 14 or 15 in age, her eyes closed. She almost could have been mistaken for someone simply sleeping, if there wasn’t a sense of wrongness hanging over her. Erin shook her head. She didn’t have any insight ability, but it was clear that the girl was drained of her powers, just like the other boy a month ago.

“How did you find her?” Gerald’s question seemed almost distracted; he was still studying the surrounding area.

Olivia rubbed her neck, obviously tired. “I was studying for the next theory exam, and on my way back to the dorms. I saw her lying on the ground and she didn’t answer when I called out.” She glanced back down at the injured girl with a worried expression. “I can’t heal her. It’s not something I can fix.”

Frustration and exhaustion colored Olivia’s tone. Having a level 4 healing ability, there were very few problems that she couldn’t fix. Besides, Erin knew that it probably hit fairly close to home, given her family’s situation.

“Did you see anything else?” Erin tried to probe gently, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

“Well…” Olivia hesitated, “It could be nothing… but I did see an older female student running away as I showed up.”

Gerald and Erin exchanged glances. “Short and blonde?” Erin asked.

“Yeah, I think.”

“Wilhemina.” The name sounded like a curse when she whispered it. Glancing up at Gerald, she asked: “Can you track her down with your insight ability?”

He frowned, thinking. “Even with level 5 Insight, It’s more about specificity of information rather than range… unless…” He grinned. “Could you lend me a hand with some reinforcement?”

Olivia looked up. “Reinforcement? How would her physical reinforcement magic help you out?”

Gerald let out a soft chuckle. “You really do play your cards close to the chest, huh?” he raised an eyebrow, looking back down at Erin, clearly hesitating to reveal too much about her powers.

Smiling, Erin spoke up. “It’s fine. For all the three parts that make up a person: mind, body and spirit, there is reinforcement magic. Although I use the physical reinforcement magic the most as it is useful in fights, I also have mental and spiritual reinforcement abilities.”

Olivia was shocked. “Aren’t those fairly rare? How have you not scored higher in your practical ranking?”

“Easy,” Erin smirked. “Just like all my other powers, they’re ranked at level 1. No one cares how rare your abilities are if they’re weak.”

She stood up and walked towards Gerald. “I can give you what help I can, but don’t expect too much.”

“I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me.”

“Shush.” Suppressing the urge to smile at his flippant words, Erin closed her eyes, reaching out a hand to gently rest on Gerald’s cheek.

She focused inward on her power, ignoring as always the buzzing magical wall that was the restriction spell. Slowly she drew out magic for a mental and spiritual reinforcement spell. Mental reinforcement would allow him to focus, to process information quicker, and ignore distractions. Spiritual reinforcement would temporarily boost his magical capacitance, allowing him to use more magical power. Given that his Insight ability was already a level 5, the amount of energy she was able to pull out before the restriction spell caused a throbbing headache seemed puny.

She pushed all the power she could draw out up through the contact in their skin, and felt him sway slightly as he received the effects of both spells.

Finished, she let out a light sigh of relief, opening her eyes… Only to meet his earnest gaze staring right back at her, a deep emotion burning there that caught her off guard. Startled, she looked away, slowly moving her hand away from his cheek.

“Thank you.”

She nodded in response to his whispered words, feeling too embarrassed to look in his eyes again.

“Umm…do you two need to be alone?” Olivia rolled her eyes. “Seriously, I let you guys go on one date together and now you’re acting all sickeningly sweet.” She looked like she was complaining but Erin saw the girl give Gerald a “thumbs up” sign behind her back.

Gerald openly returned the gesture with a wide smile and walked away, his focus already on his insight magic.

As they were left alone, Erin studied Olivia a little closer. Dark circles under her eyes, slumped shoulders, she looked exhausted… but even more concerning, she looked defeated. Erin sat down next to the smaller girl, reaching out to mess with her short hair.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“… I – I don’t know.” The tone of her answer was frustrated, almost angry.

What was going on?

“…Is your brother doing any better?” Erin felt uncomfortable, she rarely pried into Olivia’s family matters, knowing it was a touchy subject, but she was hard pressed to figure out what could be bothering the girl so much.

It was a difficult situation, one that she hadn’t even found out about until they had been friends for years:

Olivia’s twin brother was sick.

Not the kind of sick that could simply be healed. After all, as the brother of a girl with one of the most powerful healing abilities available, if he had a true illness, she would have cured it by now.

But his problem was there was everything was working too well.

He was born with ice magic, a variant of water abilities. Very rare, one that would gotten him a top spot at the academy. Even more so that it was a level 4 at the time of its emergence when he was only 5 years old.

But that was the problem: It was too powerful for him to contain. His body was slowly freezing to death, and only by frequent applications of level 4 fire magic could he survive, and even then many days were spent with him in bed, suffering.

Olivia was devoted to him, had spent her life studying magical healing to try to find a way to fix him. Her goal in graduating from the academy with honors was to gain a position at one the larger healing centers, and get him free access to the more advanced therapy available there.

Many people didn’t realize the happy-go-lucky girl had such heavy baggage. Olivia didn’t want them to know. Erin was one of the few who did, and even then they often didn’t speak of it, pretending everything was just fine.

Olivia looked up at Erin silently for a few moments as if considering what to say.

“He’s the same. He requires more frequent treatments now.” She spoke quietly, Erin had to strain to hear her. “If I can’t keep my scholarship…”

Olivia was the second highest scorer in magical theory, after Erin. Typically the academic scholarship would have gone to the top student, but with Erin’s connections, her tuition had been easily covered, so she passed the honor down to the line to Olivia. All of her family’s resources were tied up in paying for treatments for her brother, without her scholarship, there was no way she could continue to study there.

It was a lot of pressure on her to succeed.

“If you need any help with the material for the upcoming test, just let me know.” Erin offered.

“… Thanks, but I’ll handle it on my own.” Olivia looked away, her expression grim. “I’ve got it under control.”

“…” Erin didn’t know what to say.

“I found her!” Fortunately, before the silence could drag on too long, Gerald arrived.

Relieved, Erin stood up and moved to follow him. Before she had moved too far, she paused, looking back at Olivia. “For the attacked student…”

“I’ve already contacted the teachers, I’ll stay with her until they pick her up.” Olivia forced a smile.

Erin simply nodded in reply and turned to follow Gerald.

“It’s not too far.” Gerald grabbed her hand, pulling her deeper into the dark surrounding woods. She activated a small amount of physical reinforcement magic, trying to see as much as possible in the pitch black night.

“You know where you’re going?”

“Of course!” Gerald sounded offended. “You don’t trust me?”

Sighing, Erin continued to let herself be pulled along. Finally, after only a few minutes, he knelt down behind a tree, dragging Erin down with him.

“What…?”

“SHHHH!” He clapped a hand over her mouth, silently motioning for her to look around the tree. Tentatively, Erin followed his example. What confronted her was a strange sight:

Wilhemina stood alone in a clearing, a small ball of light hanging above her head. Erin recognized it as an illusion type spell. The strange thing was what the girl was talking to: She stood facing a small wooden puppet. It stood at waist height, but moved like a normal human being. Even more disconcerting, a clear voice could be heard emanating from it, giving the girl instructions.

“A level 5 wind artifact?” Erin whispered in shock. It was a highly advanced magical communication device. Who would be powerful enough to make one of these, much less use it to communicate to a student this late at night.

-Do as I tell you, and you will get the rewards you were promised. If you proceed exactly as I have instructed, she will have no further room to run and hide.

“She’s not alone anymore, though.” Wilhemina had her arms crossed, her tone petulant. “The new student, that idiotic prince has been hanging all over her since he arrived.”

- ... Can he be persuaded to abandon her side?

“No. He’s weirdly devoted. He beat up Frederick today just for insulting her! He’s crazy!”

-Then he will have to be removed from the picture as well. I need her isolated. She should have no other options than what I have provided her.

Erin and Gerald exchanged worried glances. They were talking about her! She broke out in a cold sweat, realizing that some of the constant torment she had been undergoing from the student council had been more than just bullying. It had been designed by someone, someone powerful, just for the sake of alienating her from others.

But why?

Wilhemina leaned forward, interested. “How are you going to get rid of him? Can I help?”

-Just stick to the plan. I already have measures in place.

“Fine. Just don’t forget what we agreed on.”

With that, the girl turned away. Erin and Gerald pressed together behind the tree, hiding from her as she glanced in their direction. Their hands were still clasped together, squeezing so tightly it was almost painful.

Finally, everything was silent. They were alone. Both let out a loud sigh of relief at the same time.

“That… was not what I expected to hear.” Gerald admitted, leaning back against the tree trunk and closing his eyes.

“Gerald…” Erin paused, unsure of how to say what she wanted, but decided just to be blunt. “I think you should stay away from me.”

“No.”

“But we don’t know how powerful this person really is…”

“Don’t care.” Gerald spoke serenely, his eyes still closed.

Erin started to get angry. “Be serious!” She grabbed his shoulder with her free hand, shaking him a little. “They were talking about getting rid of you! Who knows what they are planning!”

Finally Gerald opened his eyes, again his gaze held a strong emotion, one that made Erin want to take a step back. “I. Don’t Care.” He squeezed her hand. “Let them try. I’ll watch your back, and you watch mine. I’m not going to let someone wooden dummy dictate whether or not I stay by my future wife’s side.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “You’re crazy. And I’ve never agreed to the ‘future wife’ title.”

His smile was slightly devious. “I’m an optimist.”

Unable to agree, they finally headed to the dorms and parted ways for the night.

Erin was hardly able to sleep at all that night, filled with apprehension over what the future would hold. Who was working behind the scenes? Why were they targeting her? She closed her eyes for a while, but by the time the sun was rising, she felt more tired than when she had first laid down.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Bleary eyed, she opened the door to her dorm room. It was Olivia.

“Olivia? What the heck are you doing here so early?”

The other girl looked as tired as Erin felt, but tried to smile anyways.

“I’ll tell you but you’re not gonna like it.”

“…” Erin sighed loudly, giving her a stern look. Finally Olivia threw up her hands in a gesture of surrender, laughing.

“Okay, Okay, just stop with the death glare! The student council has called an emergency assembly, we all have to go to the main hall.”

“Great.” Erin rubbed her eyes, pulling on her uniform with a yawn. “Let’s go.”

They were one of the last to arrive. Erin, feeling slightly uncomfortable in the large crowd, spotted Gerald and waved, but was unable to move closer in the large crush of bodies. The noise was overwhelming as hundreds of students stood there, talking amongst themselves, everyone curious as to why this meeting was called. Fortunately they didn’t have to wait long.

“Everyone, thank you for coming.” Wilhemina stood up on the stage at the front of the room, projecting her voice with a simple wind type spell. “I won’t waste too much of your time. Unfortunately, our student council president Frederick is indisposed today, and so I will speak in his place.”

Erin held back a chuckle as Gerald struck a triumphant pose at the word “indisposed,” but the cheerful feeling quickly died away and was replaced with shock at the girl’s next statement:

“Éirinne de Roderick! Care to explain why you have been attacking the good students of this academy to steal their powers?”

#fictober18 #writing #short story #part 6 #the plot thickens #magic #not sure what i should title this #calling it the erin/gerald story is so awkward though #Hope you guys enjoy this part as well!#Erin/Gerald

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aliceslantern · 5 years

Text

Beyond this Existence: Counterpoint, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 4

Summary: After being recompleted, Ienzo vows to do everything in his power to atone for the atrocities he committed in the past. But this life hasn't been easy, and he's plagued with memories and nightmares. When Demyx suddenly reappears, the two discover that they have more in common than they thought, though the secrets in their past might tear them apart. Zemyx (Demyx/Ienzo), post kh3

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

The space Ienzo chose was the one where he’d been taught as a boy. It had good, natural light from the wide windows, and was far enough away from the bedrooms that the noise wouldn’t bother anyone. It was also close enough that they could easily get back for water or tea, or the washroom.

Like everywhere else, it was full of some ten years’ of dust. When Demyx saw it he groaned, and privately Ienzo agreed.

“Well, we shouldn’t shirk,” Ienzo said. “Let’s clean up.”

“It’s not like we have Dusks to do it,” Demyx muttered.

“I’d rather not work in filth, would you?”

“No,” he agreed. “Let’s just get it over with.”

He helped Demyx sweep through the worst of the dust. Even with the windows open, it made them sneeze. Once it seemed to be mangeable, he left Demyx to continue on and started retrieving books that might be helpful. Rune dictionaries, copies of the fairy tales with scholarly annotations, theory and music history (for context on the composer’s life), typical history. The composer had to be from Radiant Garden; how else would it have gotten here?

When Ienzo returned with another load of books, Demyx gave him a droll look. He was doing, surprisingly enough, a good job of it, and the original color of the floor was actually visible again. “For how insistent you were with the cleaning, I figured you’d be helping me,” Demyx said.

“It’s more efficient if we split our labor,” Ienzo said. “I hate to break away from my work once I’ve started. I’d rather be overcautious with materials than not.”

Once the floor was dry, Aeleus and Dilan brought the piano in. Admittedly it was a sorry sight to see, scratched and wobbly. Demyx stabilized it with a few blocks of wood. He looked at it like he might an old friend, with a sort of hazy nostalgia. He pressed the first sour key and flinched.

Ienzo knew he could not really be of help in this case. He watched Demyx as he propped open the old top, armed himself with a pair of pliers, and steeled himself for the work ahead.

He didn’t think he would find it interesting to observe, but he did. Without even use of a tuning fork, Demyx managed to get the keys back towards normal range with only a few delicate twists. And once it sounded more-or-less perfect to Ienzo, he kept adjusting.

“You must have a very good ear,” Ienzo remarked quietly. “To tell such minute differences.”

He seemed unsure of how to take the compliment. “Well, I would hope so.” He rolled his right arm. “We wouldn’t have to do all this if I just had my sitar,” he said bitterly. “That’s about as good as it’s going to get.”

Ienzo touched one of the smooth ivory keys. “Much better.”

“Still a bit flat, but I was afraid to pull much harder, especially on the higher notes. I doubt there’s any spare piano wire hanging around. It’s not exactly a commodity.” Ienzo noted, chastising himself slightly, that he’d never heard Demyx speak so deeply or knowledgeably about a subject and has assumed he’d been unable to. Then again, before now he’d never bothered to listen. Demyx played a chord. “It’s bearable, at least.”

Ienzo nodded. “Shall we get to work, then?”

His expression slipped. “Now? Don’t you want to take a break first?”

“Why? There’s still so much of the day left.”

Demyx rolled his shoulders again. “My arms kinda hurt.”

Ienzo sighed. “I could do with some lunch.”

It ended up being good that they took a break. He changed out of his dusty clothes and saw the room with a fresh eye. In his urgency, he’d left his books in a mess. “I didn’t realize I left these so… unorganized.”

With a notable hesitation, Demyx sat down on the little old bench. His posture for practice was good, but he looked tense anyway. He played some scales that sounded like they came easily, but there was a furrow in his brow.

“You look uncomfortable,” Ienzo said.

He shook his head. “Just trying to warm up.”

Ienzo turned back to his books. He wasn’t sure what the best way to keep them organized was. Subject? Date? Relevance? Of course he’d brought too many; he always had. The steadiness of the scales became a sort of background noise that was easy to tune out, at least until he heard Demyx play a sour note. Ienzo saw him flex his injured hand. He’d attributed their early break to laziness, but honestly Demyx was likely in pain. “Is your wound bothering you?” Ienzo asked. He began to wonder how often people had assumed the worst of Demyx, only to have the behavior come from a perfectly logical place. Moreover, why had he let people drag him down like that?

“Just a bit stiff,” he said, with an odd smile. He kept playing scales, gradually letting them vary in rhythm and complexity, while Ienzo continued to get himself organized. Once he was happy enough, he sat in a chair close enough so that he could also see the score.

It was so dense and complex; honestly it looked to Ienzo more like a drawing than a song. At least the runes were legible, but that didn’t help Demyx. Even so, he seemed to sight-read with relative ease, making sense of the chaos and playing a beautiful, melancholic song. While he did made a few mistakes Ienzo noticed, Ienzo would have been more surprised if he hadn’t.

But instead of looking relieved, or at peace or happy, when he got through the first part of the score Demyx pressed his hands between his knees anxiously.

“It’s lovely,” Ienzo commented. “But--rather sad. I wonder what it means.”

“Could just be what was on their mind when they wrote it.”

“Perhaps. We’ll know more when I translate. Keep going. I’ll try to remember the rhythm of the sung phrases.”

For a long time--it was hard to tell how long exactly, but the sunlight in the room was starting to darken--Demyx kept pressing forward. It was all woefully complicated. Looking at the notes made Ienzo dizzy. Instead he watched Demyx’s hands work across the keyboard, surely and competently. He was utterly, completely, and almost painfully focused as they passed from movement to movement, only pausing ever so slightly to turn the page. This was talent, raw and simple, and Ienzo felt a wave of guilt when he thought of how they’d all belittled Demyx for his obsession with his sitar.

This guilt broke his own concentration, and he noticed the bandage on Demyx’s hand was no longer clean and white, but soaked through with blood. He grabbed his shoulder. “Stop. Your hand.”

Demyx looked down, startled. The keys were faintly bloody. Ienzo grabbed one of the cleaning rags and tied it over the first bandage. Demyx did not seem concerned about his hand; he was more worried about the blood on the piano. He started wiping at it with another rag, discordant clangsreplacing the previous melodies.

“Leave it. You probably need stitches,” Ienzo said.

“It’ll get stained if I don’t,” Demyx said. A sharp, anxious edge crept into his voice.

“That’s all right.” It was a very old piano. That would be the least of the damage. “I’m going to get a first aid kit. Put pressure on it. About that much.” He squeezed Demyx’s right hand to demonstrate. He could feel the faint scratch of the thick calluses against his own soft, unweathered hands. He set off. He’d never seen Demyx’s hands without gloves, had never paid much attention to them before. In a way they were quite graceful when not hidden behind the Organization’s uniform.

Why was he thinking about this?

He found the first aid kit in its usual place, still well-stocked with sutures. Ienzo washed his hands meticulously, twice, and returned quickly. He crouched down and took the injured hand. “Bleeding seems to have stopped. I suppose i must have misjudged how deeply the wound ran the other night.”

“Even did too,” Demyx said weakly.

“That’s odd,” Ienzo said. “I usually trust his judgement with these things.” He unwrapped the bandages and saw why. The wound was narrow but ran deeply. He cleaned it gently, but Demyx still hissed in pain. Then he prepared the sutures. “I’m sorry, this will hurt. But it won’t heal correctly otherwise.”

The needle had barely pierced the skin before he was cringing away.

“Steady,” Ienzo said. He tried to move as quickly and lightly as possible, but even so it took nine stitches to close the wound. The irony of this was not missed by Ienzo, and while he did not believe in luck, he considered adding a tenth. He changed the bandages out for clean ones. “Nine stitches. Rather auspicious.”

He wiped at his eyes. “It fucking kills.”

“I can’t see how it would be… pleasant. Nonetheless, I think you should let your wound heal before we continue.” He sat down next to Demyx. “Of course, I should like to do some translation work. If it’s all the same to you, I can translate, and you can rest. For today… I think this is enough.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” More than anything, he looked exhausted, and he cradled his injured hand.

Did his anxiety keep him awake as well? Ienzo nearly asked. Instead, he said, “I am curious, though. How many instruments can you play? I shouldn’t have assumed your mastery of piano, though you are rather skilled in that regard.”

The question seemed to startle him. He exhaled, clucking his tongue a little. “Well, I mean I don’t really know. Sitar, obviously. Stringed instruments tend to come really naturally to me. I don’t have much experience with brass or woodwind, but if I looked at it for a little while, I could probably pick it up. It just seems to make sense to me. You know?”

How Ienzo envied that skill. Nothing, not one little thing, had ever come so easily to him. Except perhaps overthinking. “Fascinating. So you’ve no formal training?”

He shrugged. “Not that I can remember. I mean, some one must have taught me how to read and write music.”

Ienzo blinked. “What else can’t you remember?”

Demyx whistled, a low, strange sound. “Well, I mean, a lot, really. My past is… kind of blurry.”

That made no sense. If he were whole now, he should have all his memories. Ienzo wondered if there was a reason why Demyx hadn’t revealed his true name. “That’s… peculiar. Did you remember your past as a Nobody? The first time you were one, anyway.”

He twitched a little, and a hand went up to his head as if in pain.

“Demyx? Are you alright?”

Demyx breathed shakily and audibly. His eyes were glassy, vacant; without warning, he fell forward in a dead faint.

“Oh, goodness,” Ienzo said. He crouched down next to him and shook him, but he didn’t wake. He reached back into the first aid kit, looking for smelling salts of something of that ilk, but Even usually considered such medicine old-fashioned and didn’t stock it. Ienzo took Demyx’s pulse, noting it was uncomfortably high.

What on earth? Was this some sort of reaction to his questions? Why? Had Xehanort deliberately withheld the vessel’s memory from them?

He tried to lift Demyx’s body, but of course he was too weak. He sighed, more frustrated with himself than anything. He picked up his gummiphone. “Even? I need your help.”

It took both of them, but they were able to get Demyx into bed. Through all of this he didn’t stir in the slightest. Even took some blood, hurried out to run some quick tests, and came back some half hour later. In the meantime Ienzo waited nearby, afraid to stray too far lest something even worse happen. Despite himself, he was worried. It was hard not to feel at fault somehow.

“Well, I’ve check his blood count,” Even said wearily. “Everything is normal but the sugar and iron were low. I’m sure that explains the fainting. What you consider a trigger is no doubt a coincidence.”

Ienzo shook his head. “I’m not so sure. He had mentioned something about lacking memory. Why is it that when I tried to prod, he had this reaction? Roxas was similarly knocked unconscious when he strayed to Castle Oblivion.”

Even wrinkled his nose. “Ienzo, you know as well as I do that Demyx has a bit of a flair for the dramatic. Perhaps he just wanted some attention. Your worry is misplaced.”

He didn’t care for Even’s callous tone. But at the same time, he was the only person who had become human the same way Demyx did. “...Even, do you have all your memories?”

“Of course I do! I think I would know if that were not the case.”

This did not make things any clearer. “How odd. How odd…”

“His heart is not yet complete. That may have something to do with it.”

“I’m going to take a look at my notes regardless.” He’d never heard of such a thing. Was it perhaps a trauma-induced amnesia?

“Still, this brings up the matter of our diet. I had suspected it is somewhat lacking, too high in carbs. Perhaps we can go down to the marketplace and find something more nutritious…”

Ienzo found it strange that, despite having studied memories and hearts for the majority of his career, this was what he was hyperfixated on. “Aren’t you at least a little curious?” he asked in a low voice.

“I am. But at the same time, it’s still so early on. We know now that this recompletion process favors entropy. If we woke with our physical wounds, wouldn’t it make sense to wake up with psychological ones as well?”

“I… suppose.” He sighed.

“He will recover,” Even said, with just the slightest bit of warmth. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two bottles. “This is just some medication for him. Iron and a painkiller for that hand. I should have noticed how bad it was.”

“I’ll bring it to him. Thank you, Even.”

“I’m the only one here with a doctorate in medicine. My burden to bear.” He actually smiled a little, and set off back to his studies.

Ienzo got some water for the pills. He himself was feeling dizzy and achy, and desperately tired. The last thing he needed was to fall ill. When he went back to Demyx’s room, Ienzo found that he was awake. “Oh good, you’re conscious. How are you feeling?”

Demyx was a touch less pale, but didn’t look good. “...Weird,” he said. “I don’t know why that happened.”

“You’re a tad anemic. And your blood sugar was low.” He set down the pills and water. “Even recommended you take some supplements. And I brought some mild painkillers for your hand. No doubt it’s several weeks’ of malnutrition catching up to you. I’m sure it was hard to come by good food when you were hiding.”

He took the pills and water. Ienzo considered leaving, to get some rest of his own, but then he caught sight of the plant on the window. The soft, silver-blue-purple evoked something deep and startling within him. “That’s a lovely illumina plant. Where did you get that?” Pinpricks of memory, vague and faint--his mother, seeming impossibly tall, gently pruning the buds by the light of the full moon.

“Oh. Someone at the marketplace gave it to me. Aerith, from the restoration committee.”

Of course. Aerith was one of the few people in Radiant Garden who actually knew all of the local blooms. She used quite a lot of them in her healing. “Ah, yes. That makes sense. They’re a good group of people. I’ve been keeping in touch with them about Sora.” Demyx must not have known about its properties; in direct sunlight, the plant was slowly dying. “You needn’t leave this in direct sunlight, you know. They grow at night.”

“Did you study botany, too?” Demyx asked.

Another fuzzy memory of his mother, surrounded by plants in her study. ““Not quite. A specialty of my parents’.” He took the plant off the windowsill. At least it seemed well-cared for, other than the sunlight. “Can I see your stitches? I want to make sure you’re healing properly.” The wound had stopped bleeding, and looked to be healing well. He could feel again the warmth of Demyx’s skin like his own had memory. Ienzo didn’t understand. Had he been touched so rarely that it felt odd? Was that what this was?

“Thanks. I’m sorry about earlier.”

He shook his head. “That’s quite alright. I forget that you’re still adjusting. You should use the rest of the day to get some rest. I’m going to go and see what translation work I can get done while there’s still good light. Aeleus is making stew. I’m sure he’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

So Ienzo returned to the study room alone. He settled down with some tea and the papers and bent to study the first line of runes. It was not going to be as straightforward as he thought. The composer was using odd colloquialisms. After an hour or so, he’d barely gotten through one line, and even that was a guess.

Dawn town is a fucking mess. Or maybe they meant Dawn, town? So Dawn, and town is a fucking mess. Unfortunately, the swear was the only part he was really sure of.

With a splitting headache and just his memory to rely on, the melancholic music made the space seem even lonelier. The unbidden thoughts of his mother didn’t help. He’d been incredibly young when they’d passed--five or so--and his memories were blurry and ill-formed.

Ienzo realized for the first time how brief his time at the castle had been as a human. Only three years. In his mind it felt like ages and ages. He’d learned so much, and when he was a mere seven years old the experiments had kicked into high gear. Xehanort had spent more time with him, encouraging him with ideas until he had toddled over to Ansem, tugged the hem of his coat, and asked, “Master, what makes a heart?” And Ansem had said, “why, Ienzo, we’ve been wondering the same thing, what do you think?” And he had said, “People who bond.”

That had given them enough fuel and questions for the test subjects.

Ienzo wouldn’t make it as far as the washroom. He vomited in the kitchen sink. His head ached so badly he thought he might faint as well. Instead of cleaning up his mess, he had to sit down for several moments.

Ansem came into the kitchen, likely to gather him for dinner. “Ienzo, is everything all right? Are you ill?”

“I think so, Master.” To his horror, his eyes were watering. The panic was hot and sticky in his breast. Thin, sharp memories stabbed him. The others, telling him lies, or what they thought was the truth-- Ansem’s gone mad, he’s been experimenting on children . He remembered the faces of the people they’d questioned, remembered questioning them himself, remembered the screams when they felt their bonds being ripped apart--

He jumped up and was sick in the sink a second time. Ansem rubbed his back and he nearly recoiled from the touch.

“You must get to bed,” he said softly.

The tears were hot and salty on his face. He wiped his mouth on a napkin and started to run water over his mess. Xehanort had lied, had turned them all against one another for his own purposes, made them think that casting their hearts off was a choice. You will be free of all fear, of all guilt.

“I shall take care of it. Let us go.” He guided Ienzo back to his room and waited until he had lay down. “First Demyx, now you. We might all catch it.” He touched Ienzo’s forehead. “You don’t have a temperature. Maybe you ate something poorly?”

He couldn’t find the strength to say it wasn’t an illness.

“I’ll get you some ginger tea. That’ll settle your stomach.”

He shouldn’t feel guilty that Ansem was taking care of him. He pulled the covers tightly around him.

“My dear boy. Go to sleep, alright?”

In the silence and stillness of the room, he curled around himself. He tried to hold back the tides of emotion and memory, but they battered him again and again and he couldn’t help but cry, weakly and pathetically, until his abdominal muscles ached.

He didn’t want to be Ienzo. He didn’t want to be anybody.

#beyond this existence: counterpoint #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #demyx/ienzo #beyond this existence

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anearthstruckalien · 5 years

Text

So I wrote another dialogue-based writing thing and it features Giegue and Ninten (for the second time in total on this blog pfffft). But, this time it’s more recent as opposed to further in the past of this blog’s timeline. It’s all under the cut.

Giegue: [Teleports into Ninten’s room and intently fixes his dark gaze upon the individual in question whom appears to be fast asleep; it was just past midnight after all. And perhaps his timing could be a little better, but this was important and could not wait. Matters of safety could not wait until after a specific action or actions were taken, the possibility of another one of them coming here (and thinking about it) cemented that. However, he doesn’t quite speak yet because his attention is immediately drawn to what facial similarities between Maria and the other persisted over the past decade.]

Ninten: [Shuffles around in his sleep—suddenly uncomfortable as if he can sense the distinctly unnatural (and rather unforgettable) presence of his adoptive alien relative—in a rather restless way.]

Giegue: [Vaguely blinks at the motion itself. That’s right. Enough of staring. It’s time to get to his main reason for being here so that he may return to advancing his own goals. He narrows a dark blue void and starts to concentrate on psionic efforts intended to fully wake the other up…]

Ninten: [Squints a bit tiredly as if caught between straining to see in the darkness of his room and trying to convince himself that what he is seeing is real before a rather groggy inquiry is voiced.]

Uncle Gie.. –uncle Giegue…? S’that you… –?

[Then, just as quickly as he voiced his inquiries, something seems to jolt him to full consciousness and before Giegue can answer, Ninten speaks once again.]

No. Wait… –better question: what the heck are you doing in my room in the middle of the night–?

Giegue: I am here to communicate some rather… –important information to you.

[Pale hands clasp one another anxiously behind his back. Yes. This is very important. That is why his message must not only be informative, but effective as well in achieving the desired outcomes… without dragging Ninten (or any other members of that family; innocent humans in general even) into all of this.]

Are you willing to listen to my message… –?

Ninten: [Lazily runs a hand through haphazardly arranged dark hair and squints again in a futile attempt to see any better through the darkness. Damn sight limitations. Turning on the lights was also an option, but if this was as discreet as it sounded like it had to be, that might defeat the purpose of what his uncle set out to accomplish here.]

Okay. This is a super-weird way of going about it but–…[A pause before a slightly resigned sigh follows as the dark-haired boy stops trying to see any better and (for once) rather concedes to his fate instead.]…yeah, I’ll bite. It can’t be any weirder than the lamp and the dolls that one time. What’s on your mind uncle?

Giegue: [Frowns a little at the expression ‘bite’ but also notes that Ninten is making no motions to carry out the promised action. Hm. Perhaps it is a human expression of interest or agreement or both? He does not know… nor does he care enough to bother with thinking much more on such a comparatively trivial matter. Delivering his message is what matters. Ensuring the other’s safety by entrusting him with this knowledge is what matters. And so, that is what he will proceed with doing.]

There is another member of my species present on Earth. But, they are not of this universe.They have traveled to this one from another… and are currently stranded on Earth because I have destroyed their only means of returning back to their universe.

Ninten: [Actually falls right out of bed simply because he had attempted to get out of it far too haphazardly and recklessly in a characteristic show of his innate quality to take action as quickly as is possible, odds of success be damned. But, even the slight fall doesn’t stop him from blurting out what’s come to the forefront of his mind almost immediately.]

What?! Why? What the heck do those creeps want now!?!

Giegue: Nothing with this universe’s Earth if that is your primary concern. Their petty goals no longer have anything to do with me whether it be within this universe or another.

[He says rather firmly as if scolding the other for making such an audacious inquiry at all to begin with. Then a pause. And he continues with conveying what he knows in a deceptively flat and neutral way; fortunately nothing about his external demeanor easily betrays how anxious this is truly making him.]

Based off the information that was extracted from them, the ‘alien’ was tasked with the mission of capturing me. Or if capture did not prove to be a viable option?... then termination was a likely alternative to it.

[He clasps his hands even more tightly for a moment behind his back, before releasing the pressure a second later. He can do this. He must do this. He has done far more difficult matters than this and though the implications of this are still in the air, he will handle them if the time should ever come for such things to become an unfortunate reality. The biggest threat in all of this is none other than Giegue himself if his stability should slip up enough. That is why he must remain as calm and rational about this as is possible; allowing for fear to make its way through will only make everything worse. A deep inhalation of breath.]

It is connected to the events of the second invasion of Earth. My second attempt at it. The magnitude to which my power had grown at the time… and the way it presently is now… have caught the attention of others it seems...

[He looks down for a moment. Then exhales almost exasperatedly. Of course. This is yet another consequence of his own actions. But, it is how it is and as the cause of all this, he must accordingly be the one to address it. No one else should have to deal with this mess.]

But, you need not concern yourself with this. I will handle it.

Ninten: [Looks like he’s on the verge of protesting, but just manages to hold himself back. Protesting or freaking out any more isn’t going to helpful in this situation. If anything, it’ll only make Giegue even more nervous than he already is beyond that deadpan demeanor and just complicate things. Again. He wants to do something to assist, but that’s a matter for later. He should first try and see what he can find out about how things look now.]

… … …

Ninten: [Gets up off the floor and takes a step forward. Okay. He’s got this. This isn’t too different from how things were before except that now? his uncle is on the right side of the conflict. Or potential conflict. It’s really difficult to tell at this point.]

So… –how do things look now? Uh with the alien that’s here on Earth that is? The other stuff is pretty important too, but I think that it’s important to start with that.

Giegue: [Effectively calms himself back down even more and glances directly at Ninten anew.]

The current state of the situation is acceptable. I have effectively neutralized all immediate danger… and reached a cooperative relationship with them.

[The rigidity in his posture eases up a little and as he proceeds with elaborating on the details underlying all of this, the pale alien seems to enter an even greater state of internal peace. After all, the situation could be worse. Bad as the possibility (bordering on certainty) is about any more of them coming over here—never mind how concerning the idea of someone with the title ‘leader’ truly is—it is good that the one that is here seems to have no intentions of causing trouble here.]

They are on Earth, but I do not think that they will do anything to it. They were never here for the Earth to begin with… and seem to value their ‘freedom’ enough to avoid any activities which may otherwise jeopardize it.

Ninten: [Scratches his head intriguedly before narrowing his eyes.]So the alien is uh… on the loose then… –?

Giegue: I suppose so. They are no more ‘on the loose’ than myself.

Ninten: [Nods quickly in understanding. Okay. Maybe that wouldn’t have been his choice for someone that wasn’t some alien relative of his, but that didn’t mean that it was a bad one. No matter how tense things may be with aliens in general, he’s got to remain open-minded for his uncle’s sake. And so, he ponders over the matter for a bit longer before responding.]

I trust your judgement on this uncle. If you say that everything is fine… then I’ll take your word on it…

… –But, I still wanna see them for myself. Maybe even get talk to them just to make sure that everything is good with this whole [He makes a couple of semi-erratic hand gestures as if emphasizing or clarifying a point that he can’t quite get across as nicely as he’d like to.] alien situation thing?

Giegue: [Stiffens before rather rigidly shaking his head and offering an equally rigid retort.] Absolutely not.

Ninten: [Immediately frowns at that. There it is again. This is just like when he had gone to see how things were back on Mt. Itoi a few months ago.]

But you said–

Giegue: [Sticks a hand out (still) rigidly and unabashedly proceeds with interrupting Ninten mid-sentence in a rather strict and controlled way, as if he’s just barely containing how anxious this is making him again and how imperative it is that his mother’s family stays safe during this.]

I am aware of the contents in my message. This does not mean that you should ever approach such a creature. At all. Let alone interact with it.

[He pauses and places his hand down and back by its respective side.]

This is for your own good. You must understand this Ninten.

Ninten: [Now he’s upset and it shows from the way that his hands curl into fists to the clenching of his jaw as he tries not to get too upset despite it all. Part of this is admittedly because it’s always been a dream of his to meet aliens that weren’t totally hostile (or his relatives for that matter) BUT a far bigger part of this is because he’s being denied a chance to his part for the Earth, even if it is as seemingly harmless as just talking to confirm everything for himself. To just do something so that his adoptive family member isn’t stuck doing everything alone. A heavy sigh.]

Yeah, I do get it uncle –but you can’t just expect me to sit on my ass and do nothing while you’re the one taking all the risks! That’s not fair!

This is my home –the Earth is my home and I wanna do at least this much. If they aren’t out to get us or the Earth or anything, then there shouldn’t even be a risk anyways right?

Come on. Don’t be such a wet blanket. It’s just one short conversation–

Giegue: [He takes a step forward and straightens himself out to his full height of just a little over 10 feet and stares down the other in a rather intimidating way. Enough is enough. He cannot let this happen, he cannot fail her (his adoptive human mother) again.]

No. That is a disaster waiting to occur.

Ninten: [Takes a step forward as well and looks him straight in the eye through the darkness, unhesitatingly and utterly unyielding just like he had done so a decade ago.]

Why? What the heck do you think is gonna happen huh? Why is this such a big deal if you’ve already done all the hard parts of solving that whole situation?

Giegue: [Pale hands curl into tense fists at his sides, but this time the motion does not release itself. No. This time it remains even as a rather stiff response comes. He is decidedly anxious and frustrated all at once it seems.]

Because they are closely connected to the species leader in that universe. And it is entirely possible that this leader may come here to retrieve them… and more.

Ninten: [Draws back, but only a little. Not enough to indicate backing down any time soon, but certainly enough to denote a limited kind of understanding and openness to hear the rest of this out.]

… … …

Giegue: My apologies. I should have been more direct earlier. My transmission of this information was… faulty, but nonetheless my point remains.

This connection makes them dangerous and regardless of how cooperative they are being, that alone also makes them utterly untrustworthy.

[An exasperated sigh. He’s already feeling drained by all of this and this isn’t even the hardest part. But, nonetheless he assertively presses onwards.]

Do not be a fool, Ninten. There is no need to involve yourself when I… have everything under control.

Ninten: [There’s so much that he can say and so many things that he can do in response… but in what may perhaps be an indication of having matured over the past decade, he exercises some self-restraint and does none of those things. Not yet anyways. He crosses his arms over his chest and plops back down onto his bed with a light thud.]

What can I do then… –? What am I supposed to do if I can’t directly get involved…?

Giegue: I would say ‘nothing’… but I suppose that… I can understand that you are not that kind of person…

[And that is something that they share in common, reluctant as Giegue himself is to admit it. At the very least, he can appreciate that Ninten seems to have given up on pushing this whole thing. Which is important because if genuine, then it’s one less thing to concern himself with. His overall posture eases up once again and there’s only a split-second of silence before he gives an answer; it’s the least that he could do for the other in light of everything.]

The best course of action that you may take is… to remain cautious… and ensure your own safety along with that of your family’s. Can you comprehend this… –?

Ninten: [He thinks for a moment. And then another. And then yet another… only to reluctantly concede to this after all. It’s not nearly as involved as he likes to get when it comes to important things like these, but it’ll have to do. Ninten gets the distinct feeling that there’s a lot more that he doesn’t know about this entire situation and much as he might want to act, it might end up making everything worse because of that. No one needs that.]

Ugh –yeah. Fine. I can do that. But only if you’re really really sure that there isn’t anything else…

Giegue: [A swift nod confirming his own answer while just a hint of relief washes over him.]

I am certain of it. Thank-you for being reasonable about this.

[He turns away from the other and hesitates for a moment before offering one last farewell and teleporting out as swiftly as he had come.]

Goodbye… Ninten. Stay safe.

#.writingpost #.giegue #.ninten #.timeline: interuniversal interference

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codylabs · 6 years

Text

CodyLabs Guide To...

Specifically, I will be analyzing Time Travel in Gravity Falls. Yes it’s a kid’s show and I’m an adult man, but I hecking got myself INTO this, alright? This is IMPORTANT TO ME.

(This also serves as an appendix for my fanfiction, The Forest of Daggers. So if you’ve been linked here from that, good for you. You’re in the right place.)

Anyway.

So.

If you’re ready for some weird science, press the ‘Keep reading’ button and hang onto your butt.

Whenever I watch a time-travel movie, I want to know and understand what’s happening. That is, I want to understand the rules that the movie assigns to this fictional phenomenon. What power or technology allows it? Can you travel to the past? Can you meet yourself? Can you change the past (i.e., is the time travel stable or unstable)? How far can you change the past? Are you yourself affected by changes the past incurs? Does changing the past ‘replace’ the old reality, split the universe into two realities, or warp the reality that is? Do you have free will while in the past? What kind of paradoxes (if any) are likely to pop up, and what the heck does a paradox even do anyway?

Every movie, book, or piece of media seems to have different rules.

Back to the Future (perhaps the most well-known version) uses a freaky-looking car as a means to ‘time-drive’ to the past. It does allow changes to the past (that is, it is unstable). Changes to the past do affect the time traveler himself (when he accidentally prevents his parents from hooking up, he himself begins to disappear.) He does retain free will. And this movie clearly threatens an unstable time paradox: changing the past would kill the time traveler or else remove his means of ever changing the past in the first place, thus generating an inconsistent loop of causality that just doesn’t add up, no matter how hard you think about it.

In Groundhog Day (a classic comedy that uses the same exact rules as one of my all-time favorite movies, Edge of Tomorrow) the main character ‘time-resets’ back to the previous morning via his own mysterious innate power. However, his entire body isn’t transported back in time, but only his brain, skills, and memories. He replaces himself, and then has complete freedom to change the past however he can. Although he has complete free will, his memories and everything he brought with him remain unaffected by his changes, thereby never resulting in a messy paradox. The old reality from before the changes is assumed to disappear without a physical trace.

Terminator goes a whole different route. In Terminator, one cannot change the past at all (doesn’t stop the murderous Austrian robots from trying, but hey, to each his own.) In terminator, time travel is accomplished via a big, ominous time portal, which ‘time-teleports’ folks back without equipment or clothes. Once in the past, the time traveler’s actions inevitably result in the future happening the way it already did. A killer robot tries to kill the mother of the leader of the human resistance, and fails. A human resistance member goes back and makes him fail, along the way getting the mother pregnant with said leader of the human resistance… And to further complicate things, the time-traveling killer robot is reverse-engineered by human scientists, and accidentally used to create the robots that started the whole mess in the first place. This is a clear-as-mud example of a stable time paradox: wherein time travel occurs, and the reason it occurs is because it did. (Sure, if it didn’t occur then it wouldn’t occur, but instead it did so it would, which makes a better movie, so ha, so there.)

Yeah.

All that being said, what rules does Gravity Falls follow?

Well, let’s start with the basics.

Time travel is accomplished by using small, tape-measure-shaped devices to ‘time-teleport’ one or more passengers at once (along with their equipment and clothes, thanks a lot for making that distinction necessary, Terminator…) to any time in history. In order to be time-teleported, passengers must be either touching the device, or in direct physical contact with another passenger who is.

Since time machines have been stolen in the show from time to time, and the time-authorities have to physically chase down the time-criminals to retrieve them, we can assume that they are totally independent devices that run under their own power and control. It is never specified in the show how long it takes them to run out of fuel, or if they even require fuel at all.

Now, as for the actual rules of how time travel behaves, the particulars are never really laid out very precisely. But if you happen to be writing a hard sci-fi fanfic (the unfortunate and uncomfortable predicament in which I find myself), you need to interpret Alex Hirsch’s unspoken rules properly, and need to make your writing fit with his. (Note: In this analysis, I’m going to be ignoring the book “Dipper, Mabel, and the Curse of the Time Pirates’ Treasure”, firstly because I haven’t read it, secondly because it isn’t canon, and thirdly because its many alternate endings don’t fit with the natural stability of time that we see in the show.)

So let’s look at the evidence from the show’s 2 episodes where time-travel is prominently featured.

Diagram of Blendin’s Game:

Blendin’s Game is very clear-cut, so I’ll start there. In that episode, the time-travel behaves in a highly stable way. Changes they make to the past are already a part of history. (For example, when Dipper and Mabel go to fix Soos’ b-day, they accidentally leave a screwdriver in Young-Soos’ yard. Young-Soos found the screwdriver and returned it, resulting in him getting the job at the Mystery Shack, which is already how things were. Indeed, his job even indirectly resulted in Dipper and Mabel time traveling to fix his b-day.) The alternative (where he never gets his job) never happens. And, since the Time Paradox Avoidance Enforcement Officers either ignore this causality loop or fail to detect it, we can assume that such stable paradoxes aren’t considered much of an issue.

Diagram of a hypothetical Time-Wish use:

In order to significantly and neatly change history in an unstable way, an enormous power source such as a Precious Time Wish is required. (The key word ‘Precious’ here implies that significant unstable change is NOT normal. It is, in fact, worth Globnaring to access.)

Also, since Dipper and Mabel went 10 years into the past when they themselves were only 12, we can assume that they existed concurrently with their past toddler selves who were likely in the nursery in Piedmont. As would make sense.

As an aside, we also see Blendin freezing local time to talk with Soos and give him the Time Wish. So time machines must therefore have an optional feature to freeze time (except for the time travelers themselves and certain persons of their choosing.)

That’s all clear enough, eh?

Diagram of Time Traveler’s Pig:

However, ‘The Time Traveler’s Pig’ confounds things a bit. In that one, Dipper and Mabel loop through a day back to “high noon!” several times.

This marks the one and only time we ever directly saw an unstable version of time travel in the show. Dipper tries to loop back around to undo creaming Wendy in the eye, and ends up causing her to get creamed again. As Dipper stated in such impressively large words: “The forces of time naturally conspire to prevent any new outcomes.” So, even though we see multiple ever-so-slightly-different realities arise and fall over the course of the day, only one reality, one that is extremely close to the original, is all that remains after all is said and done.

This means, in a way, that Mabel and Waddles were DESTINED for each other. Unfortunately, this also means that Dipper will need to devote more to this relationship than just a baseball. Poor guy. Nothing worth having comes easy.

Anyway.

‘The Time Traveler’s Pig’ also features one extremely weird detail: when time traveling through the day, Dipper and Mabel never seem to encounter their past selves. (Plus their clothes and bodies never seem to carry changes back in time, nor get older or dirtier. Even Mabel was instantly restored to her former beauty after a month of standing out in the sun headbutting a chunk of solid plastic.) Therefore, it can be assumed that only their brains and memories (and the time machine itself) do any real time-travel. Their minds take the place of their original bodies at the start of the day.

However, the whole brains-only rule doesn’t fit with the rest of the show, or even the rest of the episode. When they start traveling beyond the day, they visit prehistoric times where they wouldn’t have been born yet, the distant future where they would have been long dead, and even appear briefly at previous points in the Summer, while past versions of themselves lurked nearby.

So that’s weird. Part of the episode (the part where they’re only traveling on the scale of hours/days) seems to follow one set of rules, and another part (where they’re traveling on the scale of weeks or more) seems to follow some different rules…

There doesn’t seem to be a clear answer here. Therefore, I will make something up to make it make sense. Namely, I will make up a ‘GroundHog Day switch’ (or GHD switch). When the switch is ON, the time machine will scan the target time for instances of the user’s body. If the time interval is very short (less than a week) and if the user’s past version is nearby, it will attempt to save fuel by locking onto a past version and transporting only the time traveler’s mind, soul, and self. If the time increment is more than a week, or if it cannot find a viable past self for replacement, or if the switch is OFF, then it will transport the whole body.

Over the course of TTP, Dipper and Mabel left the GHD switch ON, which allowed them to repeat the day without countless past versions getting underfoot. Whenever traveling beyond their local week, the Time machine defaulted to non-GHD travel. In Blendin’s Game, however, they probably left it off.

BUT THAT’S JUST A THEORY. A CODYLABS THEORY. THAYNKS FOR WACHIN.

Anyway.

In conclusion to all that nonsense above, here is my personal list of rules for time travel in Gravity Falls, that pretty much encompasses all we’ve seen.

These are the rules that I have been/will be writing from, and that I invite you to use as well.

Small, handheld time machines can be used to quickly and easily transport multiple people at once, along with equipment. The time machines can travel to most, if not all, points in history. Past, present, and future indiscriminately.

Time machines are capable of freezing local time, at least temporarily. Somehow, this freezing does not harm the freezer or the frozen. (Logically if time were frozen, everything would be perfectly cold, infinitely dark, and the air would be hard as rock, but that’s no fun so we ignore that.)

Time machines can be set to either replace the user’s past self in the target time, or not. If the past version targeted for replacement is more than a week distant, the replacement will not work. The function can be toggled on and off depending on need. (This is just a theory of mine, but I’ll roll with it because it makes enough sense. Plus a story I’m writing kind of depends on it. :P)

Time travel always defaults toward stability. From a practical standpoint, this means that any action undertaken in the past is most likely already a part of history. However, if significant effort is undertaken to deviate from set history, (especially replacing a past version of yourself), unstable change is somewhat possible. Which leads to my most important point:

The wrinkles of instability are usually ironed out by ‘the natural forces of time’. These natural forces take the form of poignant, improbable events: anything from a ball improbably striking an eyeball, to gusts of wind improbably blowing a ball off-course to strike an eyeball, to a girl improbably losing her delicate sanity in order to elicit pity from her brother and convince him to throw a ball in such a way that it could have the chance to strike an eyeball.

Stable time paradox loops form randomly and with some frequency, for no apparent reason besides general weirdness. Any closed, time-like curve, from Soos’ screwdriver loop to the dropped calculator loop, may form and become a ‘canonical’ part of established, stable history. These stable loops are not particularly significant, even if their causality is pretty weird.

Time travelers always maintain their own personal memories of observed events. This includes memories of any realities they have experienced, even those unstable realities which have since been altered or replaced. (This is important, because it allows for linear character arcs amid a nonlinear story.)

Oh yeah, and unstable change is possible and easy using the mighty power of the Time Wishes… And you get Time Wishes by fighting to the death for them. So have fun with that.

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sickdaysofficial · 6 years

Text

Not So Picture Perfect Health (Sick Days 4.0, Day 3)

Submitted by Anya of @feelingalittlesick

Warnings for Emeto

New characters! These babes aren’t ice skaters. Mitsunari is a painter and Izumi is a photographer. They’re high school students. finishing their last year. They are both eighteen. Hopefully you guys enjoy these new babes!

When Mitsunari had stumbled for quite possibly the ninth time within a matter of the seven minutes he and Izumi were walking back to their street and to their respective homes across from each other, Izumi knew for a fact something was up.

“Mitsu, are you okay?” The shorter male asked as they continued down the sidewalks of Meguro.

Mitsunari was looking bad all day. When, at lunch, Mitsunari hadn’t even dared touch his food and instead gave it to Izumi and Naoki, Izumi knew something was wrong. The train and walking between lines from Shirokane to Meguro seemed to do the poor boy in further and further.

Which brought them to now, walking home from the station. And to someone who didn’t know Mitsunari, with how terribly he was walking, they would think he was wasted beyond words. But Mitsunari never drank, and even if he had, he was in school since that morning.

Mitsunari stumbled again. But this time his dark chocolate colored eyes clenched shut and he pinched the bridge of his nose, sniffling softly. The sway of his body sealed confirmation that Mitsunari was too dizzy to keep walking straight through.

Izumi wrapped an arm around his boyfriend to steady him “Mitsu, what’s wrong?”

It didn’t take much to realize how badly it felt like Mitsunari was boiling in his school jacket. Yet, it felt like he was trembling slightly.

“I…just don’t feel so good. Give me a few moments and I’ll be good to finish walking.” Mitsunari mumbled, the lingering sound of swallowed broken glass replacing his voice, with a tone l like he was in a deal of discomfort and his words slurred as if in a drunken stupor.

“Ah, you poor thing…” Izumi said softly “Mitsu, are your parents or sister going to be home tonight?”

Mitsunari shook his head, his eyes staying closed “Mami is out with that absurd boyfriend of hers and is probably going to get wasted with him in Nakameguro. And my parents have been away on business.”

“Stay with me, please…” Izumi said “Please, stay with me.”

Mitsunari nodded slowly, a soft whimper following suit.

Mitsunari was too pale for Izumi’s liking. And as they were walking home, to Mitsunari’s first, then Izumi’s, Mitsunari wouldn’t stop shivering despite the weather warm enough they could have removed their school jackets. Izumi did, but Mitsunari only pulled his tighter around his body.

Izumi knew Mitsunari, he knew that his boyfriend, was ill. Very ill it seemed. But, he also knew Mitsunari would do nothing but deny it.

—-

“So, anything in particular you want me to make for dinner?” He asked, ruffling Mitsunari’s black hair as they had approached the door, before unlocking it and nudged Mitsunari closer to the couch.

Mitsunari just shook his head slowly. But he didn’t answer, just started biting his lip. He sat down without much hesitation, his body exhausted.

Izumi knew Mitsunari well. He knew Mitsunari never owned up to his own unwell conditions. Izumi knew that, witnessed it. And now he was recognizing and witnessing once more.

“You seem exhausted.” Izumi said as he sat next to Mitsunari on the couch.

Mitsunari’s chin was to his chest, himself falling asleep. He felt terrible and exhausted. At the very least, too exhausted to disagree. Instead he lifted his head, taking a deep breath and running his fingers through his hair.

“Yeah, just a bit.” Mitsunari said

“No sleep last night?” Izumi asked, wrapping his arm around Mitsunari’s shoulders, completely ready to help his friend stand up and get in bed.

“Yeah, just a bit. Mom was mad that Mami snuck out, Mami was mad at dad for…hell knows what reason. And literature review was giving me hell.” Mitsunari spoke tiredly.

“Come on, let’s go lay down, yeah?” Izumi asked softly

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

This was a lie. A complete lie. He probably couldn’t stay up much longer. He probably should try and sleep. At least a little bit. If the weird feeling in his stomach and the chill that has rooted itself in what feels to be his bones, Mitsunari knows he’s sick.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t that big of a deal. I’m getting tired anyway. But, will you please lay with me?” Izumi asked softly.

There was a reason Mitsunari didn’t want to go lay down with Izumi. An uncomfortable feeling set in his stomach and he feared throwing up in his boyfriend’s bed.

“Come on, it’ll be okay.”

—-

He couldn’t sleep. The nausea that tugged at his sensitive stomach kept him awake, and the restlessness made his fever not want to lower.

Beside him, it felt as if Izumi was asleep. Izumi’s arm was wrapped around his waist, but honestly it felt like he was being held captive.

His breathing was shaky and almost pained as nausea tugged at the high schooler’s stomach.

He was feeling terrible.. Absolutely terrible now. He felt acid stinging the back of his throat, causing him to whimper softly and try to breathe deeply through his nose. Anything to ease the nausea and still the unfortunate dizziness that started to slowly set into his head.

How the hell could he possibly be dizzy while laying down?

The breathing wasn’t working, the dizziness was merely worsening the nausea. Another strangled whimper tore from his throat. But then, oh no. Oh no…

A nauseous belch bubbled up the high schooler’s throat, his shoulders jolting slightly as a bitter taste slid onto his tongue. Mitsunari covered his mouth with his hand, swallowing thickly and shuddering.

“Mistu, love…?” Izumi had suddenly, his voice groggy but gentle and soft in Mitsunari’s ear.

Izumi was not liking the hue of his boyfriend’s skin. Not one bit. It was almost as if the color of Mitsunari’s skin was simply drained to a scary pale with a slight green tint. He did not look good, not at all.

“Hey, hey let’s move you to the bathroom, okay?” Izumi says softly.

Mitsunari shook his head. But his breathing was slightly more labored.

“Okay, okay… Let me grab you a—”

Mitsunari couldn’t choke it down anymore. The high schooler lurched over the side of the bed, thick, warm liquid landing on the rug that Izumi kept by the edge of his bed. A gasp tore from Mitsunari’s already sore throat as a pain seized his stomach and more vomit spilled past the Hashimoto boy’s pale lips.

“Ah, Mitsu!” Izumi gasped in sudden shock, letting go of his hold on Mitsunari’s waist, instead switching to hold him up from his shoulders.

“I-Izzy…I’m s-so sor—” Mitsunari tried to heave out, only to be cut off by more of the thick liquid forcing its way up his throat. Mitsunari’s slim fingers wrapped tight around the sheets of the bed to stabilize himself. Something between a retch and a broken down sob tore from Mitsunari’s throat as it forced up yet another wave that was mainly liquid.

“Get it out…” Izumi said, soft and gentle. That tone was so familiar to Mitsunari, and it never left Izumi’s voice “It’s okay, it’s okay… just get it up.”

As it seemed, Mitsunari’s body was more than willing to do exactly as Izumi ordered, for the following twenty minutes, violent waves of a chunky liquid slipped past his lips. As the vomiting started to slow down, as his body completely started to wring itself dry, dizziness and lightheadedness settled into his body. His breathing was merely panting tied in with whimpering. His fluffy hair was now damp, it’s length obscuring his blurry vision. Why was he so tired…? An exhausted, broken sob tore from his throat. For moments following, he hovered over the edge, thin trails of drool dripping out of his mouth as he just tried to breathe.

“Oh… you poor thing… you really feel terrible…. Don’t you?” Izumi sighed, brushing fingertips through Mitsunari’s sweaty hair.

A cough tore from Mitsunari’s throat, and it was weak yet brought up a thin stream of bile and water. But that was it. Just that.

Mitsunari had a look of panic on his face.

“Shit, Izzy… i’m so so sorry.” Mitsunari rasped “Look where’s your cleaning–“

“No, no Mitsu… you don’t have to… you need to lay down…” Izumi remarked.

“N-no… please…. please….” Mitsunari borderline pleaded “I have to. Because its my mess… I should have gotten up and went to your trash can at least.”

“Mitsu, you’re sick… it’s okay…” Izumi said, but looking to Mitsu, he could tell the poor boy was shaken up. “Okay… how about this… you help me clean this… but dont do all of it. Just wait here, I’ll grab the supplies.”

Mitsunari sighed and nodded slowly, shifting how he sat and pulling his knees to his chest.

#tw vomit #emeto #feelingalittlesick #january 30 2018 #sickdays 4.0 #submission

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shadowsfiguresfigments-blog · 6 years

Text

A good place to die Chapter 4

Warning: harsh language, violence

I regained consciousness, and it sucked. My throat hurt badly, and my limbs felt like goo, but that didn’t suck as much as the fact that Pennywise had failed to end me.

It wasn’t just me who was unable to kill myself.

A coughing fit made my entire body twitch, and my eyes shot open. I was lying in a fetal position on the washing-machine platform, covered in even more rags. Penny must have tucked me in while I was unconscious. The light had diminished, but I could still see enough to realize that he was sitting on the low wall that surrounded the abyss from which he had crawled almost two and a half weeks ago. It must have still been during the day, but definitely later than when Penny attacked me.

I was still alive.

The clown turned his head towards me, his eyes a weird shade of silver.

“Wha-wha-what… ha-happened?” I was wheezing, and my voice sounded like sand paper.

“Why… am I… I still alive?”

The clown shrugged, the rustle around his neck continuing the movement even when he was sitting still again.

“You weren’t scared. You were happy. I can’t kill you when you are happy.”

I felt drained and disappointed.

“Why?”

“Don’t you think I’d like to know that too?”, the clown spat at me.

“Well, I’m sorry.”

I buried my head between my legs and arms, waiting for my breath to stabilize.

After a while I could feel something touch my hair. I looked up at the clown standing before me.

“Listen, I’m exhausted and you are probably too. I should better go home now. Auntie will be worried,” I murmured, slowly unfolding my body. “I am sorry for what happened. Seems like I’m not the only one who has trouble killing me.”

My joke fell on death ears.

“Anyway, thank you for your effort.” I caught myself feeling somewhat anxious about my next question. “Can I come back tomorrow?”

His eyes turned somewhat more yellow, and his puzzled look became mingled with suspicion.

“Why would you want to do that?”

I wasn’t so sure myself. “I guess I like it here?”

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

I was lying in bed, thinking about the last couple of hours. Of course auntie had made a horrible fuss when she saw the state of my body. I told her I had tripped with the bike because of the new potholes, but I was pretty sure she didn’t believe me. She knew perfectly well that my nice classmates liked to mess with my bike – after all she already had to borrow me money for new tires and breaks, and once even a new saddle. And my accident also couldn’t properly explain the ligature marks on my neck. But she didn’t ask again, and so I could flee to the dark safety of my bed, contemplating the events of the day.

Pennywise had brought me back to the entrance once more, his eyes glowing bright blue. We didn’t talk, but it wasn’t uncomfortable – more like a fatigue we both shared. He even helped me with the brake cables that had been dislodged. He hadn’t answered my question, though.

Obviously he perceived me as a threat, and I still had no idea why. The fact that I wasn’t scared of anything seemed to be part of the cause, but how this would actually affect him was beyond me. He said he fed on fear and bodies, yet he had let that kid go when I visited him. I briefly wondered if he had fed on somebody in the meantime, but there was no curfew in place nor had I heard of any missing kids at school. I tried to be horrified at the fact that I was befriending a monster, but I couldn’t. The only thing that had managed to penetrate the numbness was the slight spur of excitement I felt any time I went down into the sewers. Maybe I should have started taking my meds again.

Once again I found sleep evading me.

Instead my mind was wandering back to my childhood days here in Derry. My mom had given birth to me at the tender age of fourteen, and the guy who had abused me had married her at sixteen. He wasn’t my real dad, as far as I knew. I was punished for everything I did and didn’t do. He was very versatile - he used his fists, his belt, sticks and whatever else he could find. When I was seven he started groping me. I told mum, and she smacked me so hard I had bruises for ages. As a punishment I wasn’t allowed to eat dinner. Again.

The only brakes I got were when auntie came to visit. She always had a little present for me, which Dad would quickly dispose of as soon as she left. But at least I wouldn’t be hit, and I was allowed to eat my three meals. Then the fateful day came.

It must have been about a week after I had wondered into the sewers for the first time. Dad and Mum fought again, but it was different this time. Soon they started hurling things at each other. I crawled beneath the table to shield myself from flying tableware, empty bottles and the occasional book. Then Dad reached into his boots, pulled something out and a big BOOM followed. Mum sank to the floor, blood spilling from between her fingers, and Dad stumbled backwards, the gun falling from his hand. Very slowly, he turned around and looked at me. He pulled the table away and yanked me up by my arms. His face was almost as white as the wallpaper as he picked up one of the knives lying on the floor. He raised it high above his head, but before he could plunge it into my chest, another BOOM shook the kitchen. Mum had crawled across the floor, leaving a bloody trail behind, picked up the gun and shot him square in the head.

It took fifteen minutes for the police to arrive. The medics, who arrived just seconds after them, said that I was in shock and wrapped me in blankets. Everything after was but a blur. Days faded into each other. I was constantly moved between facilities, doctors and therapists. It had taken me a long time to figure out what they expected from me. When I finally understood, auntie took me ‘home’ with her, back to Derry. I couldn’t complain, she was very attentive and genuinely concerned. But it didn’t change the fact that I only ever felt like a zombie.

Around 4 a.m. I finally drifted into a light slumber. For the first time in forever I had hazy dreams of silk against my throat, of ghosts and glowing eyes. When I woke up I was drenched in sweat.

Auntie had left a note for me. “Bee is coming over at 6 p.m. I’ll make dinner. Hope to see you there too.” I wrote back that I would come. Bee, as we called her, was a good friend of auntie, despite being almost twice her age. She was a beautiful lady, though her red hair had become considerably greyer in the last year and creases had appeared all over her face. She was kind and caring, which was rare in Derry, and she actually listened to what you would say. As I was ready to leave for school, the phone rang and a nurse informed me that Mr. Shanks would be released in two days and expected his shop to be clean and ready for business.

School was horrible.

Apparently my frequent trips to the barrens had stirred up some drama. Rumors about me banging half the school were flying about, and even girls who had never spoken to me before were hissing “bitch” under their breath when I passed. My locker had been picked and somebody had filled it with used condoms, empty liquor bottles and other nice gifts. Boys were whistling at me and remarking how uninteresting my bony figure was, but that they’d do me for five bucks and the like. The only pleasant surprise was the dismissal one hour early because of a conference.

I felt like a fugitive when I sped away on my bike, heading for the barrens as fast as I could. This time I was going to take my bike with me, because I had a feeling somebody might come looking for it. And the second I had turned around the first bend of the sewer tunnel, I heard voices echoing from the entrance.

“You saw her here?”

“I swear, she was here like ten seconds ago.”

“Stupid bitch.”

“Where’d she go?”

“No idea. You think she went in there?”

“Well, she probably would.”

“Shall we go looking?”

“Through all the dirt? You crazy? I’m wearing my new Gucci.”

I backed away slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. Only after I had gone on for several minutes I dared to breathe again.

When I finally reached the cistern I was a little unsure of how to proceed. For starters I parked my bike against the wall, and then called out softly: “Pennywise?” I almost expected to not receive an answer, but after a couple of heartbeats the clown appeared behind the nearest pile of junk.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”, I asked, the tiniest sensation of nervousness building in my belly.

He shook his head, and his bells jingled. “I wasn’t sure whether you would come back, little girl. Since I can’t help you.”

I smiled a little. This weird sensation had begun to come more easily to my face after the last couple of weeks. “It’s still better to hang out with you than stay at any place out there, so if you don’t mind too much…”

He studied me intensely, his eyes the weird in-between silverish shade that wasn’t quite blue and not quite yellow either. “I still don’t understand why you, as a human, would want to be here.”

I thought about that for a second. “Maybe it is because you aren’t put off by me the same way everyone else is. It’s quiet, and I don’t have to pretend to be something I’m not. And you were the first one to actually try to help me with what I really wanted. I know auntie means well and all, but she doesn’t understand me. I don’t think anyone can, really.”

He nodded, and I nestled into the rags on my usual spot. I had brought another book with me, a collection of short stories by Poe, and immersed myself into the beautiful flow of words that painted the most bizarre pictures in my mind. When I was just starving on the vast sea, contemplating the fact that I might have to consume human flesh to survive, a soft touch on my shoulders snapped me back into the twilight of the cavern.

Pennywise stood next to me, his big hand tentatively touching my shoulder. He looked like a little kid scared of dogs and being forced to stroke one.

“Would you read to me?”

I was caught off guard. He hadn’t complained before when I read out loud, but that he’d actually ask for it surprised me very much.

“Uhm, sure, if you want to…”

And with that the big clown sat down at the foot of the pile of junk, facing away from me, his head so close that my feet almost touched his hair.

I quickly skimmed through the book, wanting to read a story from the very beginning, and ultimately stopped at ‘William Wilson’, one of my favorites. As I started reading out lout, the clown let out the smallest of sighs.

I snapped the book close with too much force, and the sound echoed through the abruptly quiet cavern. A quick glance at my watch told me it was time to go home, or I would be late for Bee.

“I’ll have to go, a friend is coming for dinner”, I explained as I slid down from my seat.

Pennywise turned his face towards me, his expression as confusing to me as ever. His eyes shone in the most profound blue I had ever seen.

“So, uhm… See you tomorrow?”

He blinked, but didn’t move otherwise. I smiled at him tentatively, before I made my way back to the tunnel. Apparently I would have to find my way back on my own this time.

#pennywise #pennywise fanficition

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