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razorblade180 · 3 years

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Always there

Inciting incident here!<-

After a long mission, Ruby Rose had finally made it back to her warm and cozy home. The seasoned veteran walked in with her tattered cape in her arms and removed her shoes from her sore feet. It would be nice if grimm stood still for once. The lack of pattering feet must’ve meant Garnet was napping. Her assumption was confirmed when Jaune came from down stairs with a story book, his eyes a little droopy.

Jaune:Hey beautiful. How was your mission?

Ruby: subterranean grimm is a crime against humanity. More so than regular grimm. What about you? Those eyes look like they need sleep.

Jaune:Don’t I know it? I only got back yesterday night with Carmine from camping, when distress call happened right as we were packing up.

Ruby:Was it bad?

Jaune:It....sigh, we were in desperate need of more people. A town got bombarded by a hoard, a big one. If that wasn’t bad enough, weather got ugly and the grimm were aggressive enough to track all the way to Ren and Nora’s orphanage.

Ruby:Are they okay!?!

Jaune:They’re perfectly fine. So were most villagers.

Ruby:Soooo is this just a tired face or is there something eating at you? *rubs his face* Did Carmine not listen out there?

Jaune:She did. Things were just heavier than expected for her.

Ruby:Heavy how?

Jaune:She....lost someone. Her room door has been shut ever since. This really hit her hard.

Ruby:Oh. Sigh, I’ll go talk to her. You go get some rest.

Jaune:You sure?

Ruby:Even super dad needs to take a breather. Give me several minutes and maybe you can start a bath for the both of us to float our stress away?

Jaune:Sounds like a plan, super mom.

Ruby:Pfft, not even, but I appreciate the compliment.

She kissed Jaune’s cheek then walked outside. Closed doors were a pain to get opened. Knowing her daughter, it was locked with things right on the other side of the hinges. Ruby took the faster route, petal bursting up around the Carmine’s balcony. As luck would have it, the balcony door was actually opened and the young Rose laid on her bed with her eyes locked onto Ruby’s. Knocking may have been less awkward in hindsight. Ruby opened the screen door of the balcony to let herself in. Unprepared for this actual talk, Ruby sorta....stood there aimlessly. Her daughter looked just as tired as Jaune. Ruby brushed the hair in front of Carmine’s face with a single finger, swirling the strand around.

Carmine:.....

Ruby:Ummm hehe, I’m home?

Carmine:The door was unlocked ya know?

Ruby:I never know with you. Plus I figured you weren’t in the mood to move. Umm, may I sit?

Carmine:*pats bed* Be my guest.

Ruby:Have you slept any since being back?

Carmine:Nope......talk to dad?

Ruby:Yeah but no specifics. Care to fill me in, if you want to that is?

Carmine:Not much to say. Arrived on the scene to help evacuate the people. I had a clone make a path of roses while several more started killing grimm. One of them had came across this girl who was crying for her mother as she bled in the mud, so I tried saving her. It didn’t work out.

Ruby:And?

Carmine:....

Ruby:Carmine I know there’s more.

Carmine:I...she....the path I made wasn’t safe. I had to take a longer one which ate valuable time. It may not have been my actual body but it felt like I could feel how cold she was getting. All I can do his sing her your lullaby; meanwhile me, the real me, found the mom after cutting down wave after wave of beowulves and several stupid monkeys. They got really aggressive, and I got so, so tired. I had to use my eyes; dad’s permission of course. It saved my life but that mother...I was too tired to save her. Apart of me wanted her to yell at me. To just give some kind of anger, but she didn’t. All she could is tell me that I’ve done enough and how thankful she was that in her time of need, Ruby Rose’s daughter saved her own daughter.

Ruby:Carmine...

Carmine:*trembling* I looked that woman in the eyes and told her that little girl was safe, but I don’t know if I did that for her comfort or my own. I just know a woman thanked me when all I did was fail her and the daughter. All because I wasn’t good enough.

Ruby:And that’s where I have to stop you. I’m no stranger to losing ones I wanted to save. It hurts, but sadly it’s unavoidable. The point is to never stop trying to save everyone. I didn’t have to be there to know that you tried your absolute best; there’s no shame in that. Only perseverance.

Carmine:....

Ruby:....Do you wanna be alone?

Carmine:No. Not really. I just...I can’t stop thinking about that mother and seeing you; or how that child looked so terrified. Like how I was back then, like....I still am.

Her entire body tensed up. Carmine could feel the fear carved into her back begin to manifest. The only comfort keeping the memories and tears away was her own mother positioning Carmine so her head laid still on Ruby’s lap; where she continued to feel gentle fingers run through her hair.

Ruby felt her own heart ache. It was rare to see her daughter waver. Carmine always stood firm in the face of tragedy. Ruby knew well that a person could only do that so much before they needed to break. It happened to her family, to Jaune, and even herself. It’s why having people to lean on was so important. Even the brightest sparks had to be rekindle now and again. Ruby didn’t need a long winded speech to say right now. Even she could tell right now that all her strong baby girl wanted right now was to be a daughter with her mother.

Ruby: Dream of everything. I’ll make it all come true. Everything you need, is all I have for you~

The tears couldn’t be suppressed any longer. Carmine hated it, but she began crying in frustration.

Ruby: I'm forever, always by your side. Whenever you need a friend I'm never far behind.

If the stars all fall, when there's no more light; and the moon should crumble. It will be alright.

Don't you worry about the dark. I will light up the night with the love in my heart.

I will burn like the sun; I will keep you safe and warm.

Like the smell of a rose on a summer's day. I will be there to take all your fears away.

With a touch of my hand. I will turn your life to gold~

Ruby looked down to see her daughter gripping the hem of her dress, eyes shut tight but crying nonetheless. Gently, Ruby rubbed her thumb across Carmine’s face not to wipe tears, but add the comfort she needed; to reaffirm an undying oath as a parent to her child.

With a touch of my hand, I'll turn your life to gold.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #rwby lancaster #rwbabies #rwby rosebud #carmine arc rose

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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 3 years

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Decagon: The Supportive Hero Chapter 2

Summary: When Izuku finally accepts that Bakugou is not his friend anymore, he ends up collapsing at home. He discovers that he has had a Quirk all along- the ability to bond with others and increase their Quirks. Izuku fully intends to become a hero still, now with a new Quirk by his side. A new school leads him to new friends and new bonds both Quirked and not, plus his mom finding a new husband has his family increasing and the support he needs keeps coming in.

Look out world, here comes Decagon!

On AO3

Pairings: Aizawa Shouta/Midoriya Inko so far. Others TBA

Warnings: Bakugou Faces Consequences. Bakugou critical. But also he ends up getting redeemed like WAY later so… yeah.

Other Tags: Shinsou is Aizawa’s cousin/nephew, Queer Platonic relationships ahead, Izuku has a Quirk.

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The Quirk specialist called in wasn’t the one Dr. Aizawa wanted, but apparently that one was in America for a conference. Instead a tall blue haired woman had been called in.

“Ah, hello. I am Doctor Yamanato Yuki.” she had introduced herself. Apparently her specialization in Quirks were sex based but she also had faimilarity with bonding Quirks.

“Sex Quirks and Bonding Quirks actually are incredibly similar when you break it down,” she had explained to Izuku when the boy had asked in curisotsity. The woman had gone red when he had asked but she had managed to stutter it out. “Sex Quriks often affect other people, much like Bonding Quirks. They affect the same areas of the brain to stimulate the Quirk’s effects on the person. So I learned a lot about them both.”

The testing was a bit boring. He and his mom sat in machines with weird stuff attached to them, and Eraserhead, which he had gotten more excited about after his brain fog cleared up, would activate his Quirk randomly so Dr. Yamanato would observe Izuku’s Quirk in use. He then sat in more machines to scan his head and body.

When they were all done that, Dr. Yamanato also took some blood to test it.

Meanwhile though, Izuku had to stay in the hospital. His body temperature registered still as below average, but rising up. Dr. Yamanato had more theories about that, but she wanted to check first.

Izuku didn’t mind the hospital too much, it meant that he didn’t have to go back to Aldera which he knew would be filled with kids gossiping about him now. His mom told him he didn’t have to go back at all.

“Your Quirk is very special honey, special enough that people would want it. Due to this, we can apply for a fund to move you to a better school where you will be safe.” Inko did not tell her son the risks of kidnapping him were incredibly high, and that he would be sent to the school Dr. Aizawa’s girlfriend’s son went to. Dr. Aizawa had told her a few quiet stories of how his girlfriend’s son had nearly been kidnapped multiple times for his mind control Quirk. She didn’t want to worry her son with that news.

Izuku did know that Bakugou attempted to get to him a few times. He had heard Inko talking about it with the doctor and even a security guard. Apparently Bakugou had come back and tried to force his way into the pediatric ward. The nurses hadn’t let him and he had tried to make them only for them to not only call his parents but the cops.

That had nurses gossiping all day, and Izuku had listened to a few talk about how awful he was and how they didn’t understand how a child could act like that.

Izuku felt a little pleased at that. He shouldn’t be, he knew and felt guilty. However, little boys who were bullied and tormented for years do tend to get glee their abuser faced consequences for their actions or ended up mocked for their attitude.

Or well, anyone would be.

Izuku waited a week for more info, during which he got to know Eraserhead more and more. He apparently also taught at UA, Izuku felt so happy learning that he ended up asking way too many questions. Eraserhead didn’t mind though and answered what he could.

“But what about your classes?” Izuku asked him a day after he being told, suddenly realizing it. “Shouldn’t you be teaching?”

“Nah. I’m the home room teacher for the third year this year and I expelled most of them. I have about five kids in the class and they’re currently doing work studies. I barely see them.” Eraserhead had told him, which sparked a debate on why he expelled most of his students that even Inko weighed in on.

“But if they were skilled enough-”

“It doesn’t matter, I won’t let kids who have no potential go out to either get themselves killed or others killed.”

“But couldn’t they learn?”

“They go to Gen Ed when expelled from my class and I watch them. If they actually show ANY potential and want to do better I will let them back in but otherwise-”

Izuku watched the back and forth of his mother and Eraserhead for a bit, head turning between them. Dr. Aizawa, who had walked in a few minutes before with Dr. Yamanato, also watched. His face looked amused though, confusing Izuku. More so when he told the little boy,

“I think I will be seeing more of you even when you’re gone. I have never seen Shouta look so engaged before.”

That was weird, Izuku thought as Dr. Yamanato caught his mom’s attention.

“Oh! Doctor! Do we have more information?” Inko asked the female doctor who smiled kindly.

“We do.” She got the other two to leave, leaving Izuku, Inko and Dr. Yamanato alone in the room. The doctor sat down in a chair with a clipboard on her lap that she read some notes off of as she spoke.

“Your son’s Quirk from what we found is the ability to form bonds, we know this. He is able to increase a person’s Quirk. Most likely they can either use their Quirk for longer, can aake it stronger somehow or possibly even mutate it depending on what sort of Quirk he has.” the doctor explained. “The bond however, goes both ways. We got permission from the Bakugou family to do some tests on their son. From what we can tell, the bond between Izuku and Katsuki was only half of a bond. It was parasitic in nature. Katsuki would draw upon Izuku but Izuku received nothing back from him.”

“Is that why he was so sickly for so long?” Inko asked.

“Yes. Izuku’s Quirk worked overtime to support the bond with Katsuki and yourself.” Dr. Yamanato explained. “The bond between the two of you is incredibly healthy, but from the bit of the former bond we can find between Katsuki and Izuku it was entirely one sided and drew too much from Izuku. If it had been both ways, Katsuki most likely would have been even stronger and Izuku would have experienced minor side effects of the bond.”

“Side effects,” Inko interrupted the doctor while Izuku reeled from all this information.

He had a Quirk. He had a QUIRK. A really cool one! He could bond with people, make them stronger… suddenly his thoughts went to why he expressed happiness before, when he didn’t have to go to school. His stomach dropped like a stone.

People would only want to be his friend because of it.

“What sort of side effects?” Inko asked the doctor, unaware of her son’s slowly worsening mood.

“Well from what we can tell from some of our physical tests, the bond with Katsuki did cause him to be sickly but the bond with you is altering his body a bit.” The doctor explained. That drew their attention, Izuku even pulled from his thoughts.

“How so?” Inko asked, voice as calm as possible so she didn’t freak Izuku out.

“He’s more…” the doctor looked thoughtful, trying to find the right word before huffing. “He’s much lighter than most boys his age. I believe it relates to your Quirk. Pulling small objects towards yourself- Izuku has made himself lighter. It may also play into why he does have a hard time keeping to a healthy weight.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Inko worried, a hand going to rest on her son’s shoulder. Izuku himself felt nervous.

“I’m no dietician. I would suggest swapping to a heavier diet for him and focus on muscle building rather than fat building, but that’s not my specialty.” Dr. Yamanato told Inko. “The broken bond between Izuku and Katsuki as well is what is causing him to be so cold as well.”

“Bakugou has explosions as his Quirk, was he making me warm?” Izuku asked the doctor who shrugged in answer.

“Possibly. Or it could simply be the shock from suddenly breaking a bond. It isn’t life threatening as you know but you will need warmer clothes from now on.” Dr. Yamanato told them. “Now, we did get a brain scan done and we think we see… the term I guess would be ports…” the doctor frowned and then shrugged, seemingly satisfied with her word choice. “Ports where more bonds could form. We counted ten. This number though is not a hundred percent accurate though, so be warned you might not be able to bond with ten or might be able to bond with more than ten.”

“... Is there anything else? How do I bond with people? What sort of bonds? Are they all like family bonds?” Izuku asked. Dr. Yamanto blinked owlishly before she smiled at him.

“Well, you’re eager to learn. From what we think happened with your mother and Katsuki, we think the bond had to be mutual with both of you wishing to be bonded.” Dr. Yamanato said. She used the clipboard she had on her lap to sketch out two stick figures with two arrows between them, going from one figure to another. “The bond requires mutual affection. Now, this affection can be good affection or… bad affection.”

“Bad affection?” Izuku asked, his mind whirling.

“Sometimes people like to pick on and be mean to others.” Dr. Yamanato explained. “This is cruel behaviour and bad affection. They do feel something for their victim but it isn’t affection such as your mother feels for you as her son.” She drew two more stick figures with two arrows between them, one broken. “However, once the bond is formed, then even if the person who is bonded to you breaks the bond, the bond continues until you break it yourself. At least, that is our theory.” Dr. Yamanato shrugged. “Quirk Science is half the time us screaming at one another and the other half threatening each other, I won’t lie.”

“I read an article saying Quirk Science is twenty percent guessing, forty percent chance, thirty percent sheer luck and ten percent drinking.” Izuku said with a grin.

Dr. Yamanato cackled.

“You got it in one kid.” She handed Izuku the notes she had taken, and then handed Inko a card. “That is my number. Now, I would like to step outside with your mother to discuss adult things if that’s okay?”

Izuku figured that meant it would be stuff his mom felt to scary for him but would tell him later if she felt it was needed. He agreed and the two women stepped out.

Outside the room, Eraserhead waited for them.

“Doctor, Mrs. Midoriya.” He greeted both of them.

“Ah good Eraser, are you the assigned hero?” Dr. Yamanato asked him. He nodded as Inko blinked in confusion. “Perfect. Now, Mrs. Midoriya,” Dr. Yamanato turned to her. “You understand that due to the nature of your son’s Quirk you are being offered the help moving him to a new school?”

“Ah, yes. Dr. Aizawa said that his girlfriend’s son goes there? His Quirk is something people might want?” Inko did not want to think about her son being kidnapped but it was a very really fear with his Quirk. If a villain got a hold of him and managed to bond with him… it could be disastrous.

“Correct. Now- I’m going to be completely honest. As soon as we place this information into the system anyone with even the slightest ability to check out the database will see it.” Dr. Yamanato said bluntly. “Any Quirk that benefits anyone will be of interest. This means you will be harassed by pro heroes, government agents or researchers who want to use your son for their own gain.”

“... what?” Inko asked shakily.

“It’s common,” Eraserhead said honestly. “Any Quirk deemed useful gets looks and greed. The fact it’s a bonding Quirk that increases other Quirks…”

“Frankly I would bet on Endeavour visiting at least. The man is a power hungry asshole,” Dr. Yamanato said, shrugging at their looks. “My wife has the ability to create children using any genetics from either parents.” The doctor glanced around and lowered her voice. “No one knows but she’s able to pick Quirks to.” That got startled looks from the other two. “She keeps it undocumented for her own safety. That gets out, she will be in dire risk. She managed to word her Quirk profile just right that she’s not lying either. However, Endeavour found out. I don’t know how and he forced her to give him a son with his and his wife’s Quirks.”

“Oh god,” Inko said. Dr. Yamanato nodded.

“Exactly. So be warned. I have some drafts of vague ways to word his Quirk description.” She handed said drafts to Inko and then bowed. “I must be off but take care of yourselves.” She lefts, leaving Inko and Aizawa.

“This… this is going to be hard.” Inko said to herself, clutching the note tightly. She had been aware the reason the government would pay for her son to go a new school with better security was because his Quirk could be dangerous in the wrong hands. She had heard of some of the kids who went there during her research of the school. Kids with healing Quirks that could heal almost any wound, kids who could copy other Quirks, kids with Quirks that released deadly gasses… and now her son would need to go to it because of the risk of a villain bonding with him…

“You’ll be fine.” Eraserhead said. He reached out to awkwardly pat her arm. “I’ll be here to help out for a bit if needed and I’ll make random visits until they decide the risk is over. I’ll help protect him.”

Inko smiled at the man, relief flooding through her. She would not be alone. She didn’t have to do this by herself. Not anymore. Even if it only lasted a little while, she had someone with her.

She could do it.

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“The power of the blasts lowered by 200% after the bond broke,” casually remarked Dr. Yamanato as she looked over the results of the youngest Bakugou.

“What?!?” Katsuki screeched and Dr. Yamanato ignored him, facing his parents.

“It looks like the bonding Quirk was very effective in boosting his Quirk. Thank you for letting me use his Quirk as a way to calculate how much Midoriya’s Quirk could boost another.”

“Of course,” Mitsuki said woodenly as she stared at her furious son. Masaru remained silent, staring at him as well. Dr. Yamanato, sensing that they needed to talk, quietly left.

“This isn’t fucking fair! It’s bullshit-“ Katsuki ranted right before his father spoke, cutting him off.

“Katsuki it is fair. From the sounds of it your actions were deplorable.” Masaru wondered where they had gone wrong. How their prideful son had become so arrogant.

“I am disgusted with you,” Mitsuki said bluntly. Katsuki flinched. Usually his mother would scream that, rage it. But instead she just said it softly, calmly. “I never thought I’d raise a thug like my own father. I’d hoped for better then that.”

“I’m no thug! I’m going to be a hero!” Katsuki roared.

“Not with your current attitude, and it looks like you’re back to square one.” His father said, motioning to how his son’s hands were slightly sparking but only creating small crackles and not the usually soft booms when he lost his temper. “Your actions have consequences Katsuki. We thought the school here would give you them but from our conversation with them, they aren’t.” The two adults traded looks.

They had spoken to the school and found that the entire system was rotten. They praised Katsuki and promised to ‘convince Izu-kun to get over himself and bond again’ stating their son’s skill and power meant he would be a hero. They were horrified at the way the school talked about Izuku like a thing their son could use, not even a person.

“You won’t be going back there.” Mitsuki said.

“What?!?” Katsuki yelled. “But it’s perfect for my-“

“Your hero origin story?!?” Mitsuki snapped. “That utter fucking bullshit you seem to adore sprouting? Here’s the thing Katsuki, you DO NOT have that sort of origin story. You’re talking about an underdog story. Newsflash, you’re not!”

“Your mother and I make good money, you have good health, you only go to that school because we thought you wanted to be with who we thought was your friend,” Masaru began listing. “We paid for the best Quirk Counselors we could, we always made sure you were healthy and happy, and again, we have money.”

“You’re no underdog. You’re the bully in a hero story, the privileged asshole the underdog takes down.” Mitsuki said cruelly. She would feel terrible later, but right then she didn’t care. “I’d say Izuku went through his origin story while at that school, not you.”

“You will not be going back there, and…” Masaru hesitated. Katsuki already was being punished. He would lose his hero origin story fantasy, he had lost a lot of the power of his Quirk. He would have to make friends in a new school, a school Mitsuki picked out dust to them being very stern on bullying.

What else could they punish him with? Taking away his Quirk gym privileges seemed to cruel after he would need to build his Quirk up again. Taking away his video games didn’t seem enough.

“You won’t be going to Hero Con for the next two years.” Mitsuki said. Every year they would take him to see all the merch, year all about heroes and just have fun. Izuku always went with them to. They would still offer the tickets as always to Izuku on his birthday but wouldn’t go or go with Katsuki.

A fitting punishment in her eyes. Katsuki loved Hero Con but the event occurred once a year and wouldn’t affect him to greatly on top of everything else he went through.

“WHAT?!? AREN’T I BEING PUNISHED ENOUGH?!” Katsuki screamed.

“For years of bullying and tormenting? No.” Mitsuki told him. “My father is in jail for his actions. I don’t want to see my son follow his footsteps.”

That quieted Katsuki and the adults took their son home hoping he was thinking and reflecting on his actions. They find that’s much hope though.

For Katsuki he was plotting. Okay, fine he wouldn’t go to Aldera anymore. But the nerd still lived around him and went to the park. Fingers and Wings also would still go to Aldera. He’d have access to Deku again, he would force him to rebond with him.

He would be a hero, and nothing would change that. He refused to let his origin story die like that. He wouldn’t!

Hearing his parents talk about visiting the Midoriyas to make him apologize he changed his plan. Apologize and then rebond with the nerd. Deku could never stay away from him, the fact he had gotten so upset would easily be brushed off as Katsuki going to far only once. It would all end up fine!

He would apologize and things would go back to normal. Deku would tell them to let him stay at Aldera. He would get his hero origin back, be the next great hero. With Deku along he guessed but the freak could be a sidekick in his agency he supposed. Providing him with strength on top of his own greatness to beat All Might and be the next number one!

Heading to the stupid nerd’s house, he plotted how it would go. An apology, then Deku forgiving him. Deku would offer to rebond, after apologizing himself for being an asshole and breaking the bond, risking his future.

They walked up to the apartment, and Katsuki sneered as his mother grabbed his shoulder.

“We’re going to say sorry and then leave.” she told him bluntly. “Nothing else.”

“Or your punishment will be worse,” Masaru promised his son, causing Katsuki to stare at him in shock for the dark tone. He had never heard his father use that before.

Mitsuki rang the bell and waited. Inko opened the door, face blank.

Katsuki felt some regret seeing Inko. He once called her Auntie Inko and she would bake cookies and give him and Deku treats. He used to like her a lot more then his own mom until his parents sat him down and explained why they didn’t speak to their parents, why he didn’t have grandparents like other kids did.

Learning how fucked up his parents’ childhoods were had him appreciating them way more as a nine-year-old. And made him think they were the most badass parents ever. His dad taking down his villain dad by walking right into a freaking police station? His mom stealing all the valuables in the house and running? Epic.

Stand there, looking at Auntie Inko and feeling those feelings again though made him feel small. Bad. Dirty.

He ignored it. Deku was a fucking weakling who wouldn’t get far in the future, no matter his Quirk. It was just a bonding Quirk after all. Katsuki would be the future number one hero. Deku was lucky to be part of his story.

“Yes?” Inko asked the Bakugou family.

“We would like to apologize to Izuku.” Mitsuki said, bluntly. Inko simply watched them a bit longer.

“We were just released today, we asked that the results from the tests Dr. Yamanato had done would be give to you after we left.” Inko said after a moment.

Katsuki didn’t move. He’d figured that the fucking hospital had been working against him, after he had gotten the police called on him for trying to see Deku earlier. He had been so angry then, he wanted Deku to take back his lies, or what he had thought were lies.

It took him using his Quirk over and over again to figure out the truth. Deku had increased his Quirk strength. By a lot.

He was still awesome, he wasn’t back to square one like his dad said. However he couldn’t do the same amount of damage as he could before. It infuriated him and he needed Deku to rebond with him.

“We’re aware but we want to apologize to him.” Masaru explained. Inko looked them over for a bit longer before she sighed.

“Wait here-” she began but a dark haired man appeared, looking tired.

“I’ll ask him. If he doesn’t want to meet you, would you be okay sending an apology letter?” the man asked.

“Of course,” Masaru said, bowing his head.

Katsuki knew Deku would come to the door. He never could stay away from Bakugou.

The man came back, and shook his head.

“He said an apology letter would work best for now,” the man began but Katsuki stopped paying attention.

What? The nerd refused to see him?!

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Katsuki screamed. “I’m fucking apologizig and the little shit won’t fucking-” his hands crackled with energy and he yanked himself from his mother’s grasp to step forward when his hands went cold and a scarf wrapped around him, holding him there.

“Do not take another step.” said the man coldly. His eyes had turned from dark brown to red, and his hair floated above his head, the scarf he had been wearing wrapped around Katsuki. “I’m the pro-hero Eraserhead, assigned to watch over the Midoriya family. Your actions of trying to force yourself into situations is not welcome here.”

Mitsuki grabbed her son, yanking him back.

“We’re sorry for his actions,” she bowed, forcing Katsuki to do so as well before she pulled him away from the apartment as Masaru spoke to Inko for longer. Mitsuki dragged her son to the stairwell, the boy in shock from losing his Quirk so suddenly still. “I cannot fucking beleive you!” she snapped. “That was the most disrespectful fucking thing I have seen yet from you, and apparently I haven’t seen everything.” she glared at her son, anger burning deep in her eyes.

“Deku-” Katsuki tried but Mitsuki glared at him, silencing him.

“Not another damn word.”

Mitsuki dragged her son down the stairs and to the car, unaware that part of his world view was shattering.

Deku… Deku didn’t want to see him. Deku refused to. Deku wanted a damn letter and not him in person.

Katsuki bared his teeth. Fuck that. Deku would understand where he belonged- under his feet, providing him with power for his future career.

He would make Deku rebond with him, and he would not take no for an answer!!

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You know, it occurred to me as I wrote this that Bakugou might claim that Izuku did not help him at all and the bond was completely fake. I tossed the idea around a bit but decided to leave it as Bakugou wanting Izuku to rebond with him. I felt that while Bakugou is a narcissistic egotistical brat, he also most likely would want the bond with Izuku to be more powerful. The punishment from his parents is something I feel makes sense. 1- the school was a large part in why Bakugou is the way he is. I mean, he was always a little shit as we can tell from flashbacks where BEFORE Izuku was declared Quirkless. The Deku name came before, Izuku was picked on by Bakugou before and more. However, the school did not help by praising him and saying he was going to be great. As well, excusing his actions against Izuku was bad. 2- Removing Bakugou from the school also robbed him of his ‘hero origin’ which you know was FAKE AS FUCK because Bakugou is not an underdog. Rising from a bad school only works if you’re also from a lower income and Bakugou really isn’t. 3- I don’t believe in punishments that are like: we take away everything you love and enjoy. It does nothing and is actually damaging. As well, as Mitsuki and Masaru come from bad families they also worry about being to harsh. So, change his school and also restrict him from Hero Con for a few years. A good punishment-more so since he will be sent to a strict school where his bullying behaviour is not allowed. Other notes: -I have six bonds including Inko for Izuku planned. Suggestions welcome but might not be listened to. -Dr. Yamanato is a character from another fic- my Omega Quirk one. I didn’t want to make another Quirk specialist character so I just reused her. Honestly I’ll probably keep reusing her because hey- ready made Quirk specialist here. -The Endeavour thing is more of a warning to Inko then a real plot point. If Aizawa follows it up I doubt I’ll focus to much on it. -Izuku’s low body temperature and light weight will be brought up often. This is solely to combat the trope where a medical condition is only brought up for plot. It won’t here. -This actually isn’t the full of Izuku’s Quirk. That will take way more time, effort and experimentation to figure out. -The reason Bakugou got such a big part of this chapter was for future plotting reasons. I don’t like… actually plot ahead much. I usually know the gist of what I want, and one thing I do know is Bakugou is a minor antagonist for a portion of this fic. Then he gets his redemption. As well, this chapter is more: Here is Izuku’s Quirk mixed with some plot so it’s not to info dumpy? -Inko is able to pull bigger objects now, she just has never tried because she doesn’t need to pull larger objects. -Japanese culture puts a lot of stock in apologizing and harmony. (Makes me wonder why Bakugou would be allowed to run around like that so much…) Hence why the Bakugou parents insisted on apologizing. (Oddly enough this makes me realize even more the ‘our son’s fault for being kidnapped’ thing is really a mistranslation/cultural thing where it isn’t meant like that at all based on my research) -I was told I use a lot of passive verbs so I tried not to here.

#bnha #bnha au #decagon #izuku has a quirk #Bakugou critical #dadzawa #more world building then plot #but plot

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fizzingwizard · 3 years

Text

Episode 41 was another fun one! It doesn’t seem related to the main plot, but that’s ok because we needed more world-building. And it does give us a bit of character development. Most importantly of all, it’s the DESPERATELY needed Sora-focused episode. And it’s all hers. We really needed this for Sora and I’m really happy with how it went down. It’s a simple, easy to follow story, and yet it was still cute and funny and good for Sora.

My one complaint would be that, though it’s great to see Sora be awesome and see her friends appreciate her, she didn’t seem to have something she needed to “overcome” like Jou and Koushirou, or something she had to prove like Yamato and Mimi. There’s definitely an important theme for Sora which, like the others, is related to her Crest. It just didn’t have the gravitas I felt it needed. It was a much sillier episode than Yamato’s, for instance. (But nowhere near as silly as Jou’s.) Still, overall very good.

Pic of the day:

A vision of perfection.

More below!

First off, the animation in this episode is really nice. Almost uniform througohut, and some seriously great expressions. CREDIT WHERE CREDIT IS DUE

The kids are taking a break (yay!!!! again!! I sweat the producers are reading my blog, HELLO PRODUCERS, THANKS FOR GIVING ME EVERYTHING I ASKED FOR, lol). Taichi and Sora spend it teaching the Digimon to play soccer. Interestingly, some of the Digimon evolve in order to play x’D I guess I can see why Gomamon can’t really play unless he’s Ikkakumon. Plus Tailmon is already Adult level anyway.

It’s really fun to see how much Sora and Taichi both love soccer and love playing it together. Koushirou has a cute moment explaining to the others how awesome Taichi and Sora’s teamwork is.

Sora blows the whistle on Tentomon for grabbing her because you don’t do that in soccer. I think this is a little unfair given that Tentomon can’t really kick the ball that well since he’s got bug feet xD

The whistle Sora has, for some reason, is Jou’s, given to him by his brother so that if he runs into a bear in the woods, he can whistle for help. Lol. That is adorable and hilarious. Still wish it was Hikari’s whistle though

Speaking of Hikari, she and Takeru are happily engaged in making flower crowns together while Patamon smushes the grass.

All of a sudden, these weird, veiny meteors come crashing from a huge island floating in the sky, leaving a crater in the field. Could be dangerous!

Taichi: I’m not afraid. Besides, I’m curious.

Yamato: Be careful, Takeru.

Takeru: Yeah, be careful, Hikari.

omg too cute

I mean look at these expressions and body language. It’s fantastic. I love how Taichi looks like he’s trying not to get too close as he pokes the object with a stick and how Koushirou is like hiding behind his computer lol.

They discover it’s not a meteor, but a fruit. (And look another adorable Taichi face!) Question is, is it edible?

Agumon: Sure is!

Taichi: D:

no seriously I love Taichi being freaked out by his own partner. Lol. It’s one of the best things about Taichi & Agumon. I ate it up in Tri lol

So, I expected Yamato to be the downer of the group here along with Jou, but he’s just concerned that the fruit is too small for everyone to share. Aw what a mom.

It’s also pretty funny that, when a floating island appears and a mysterious fruit falls down with enough strength to leave a crater in the ground, the kids’ reaction isn’t to wonder about what’s going on, but to try to figure out how to eat it lol.

At this point they’re just so used to floating islands that it’s lost all novelty. They’re like, “oh, floating island, been there done that”

Agumon comes up with the obvious solution and Taichi and Sora fly up to the island together to get more fruit. Why only two of them go... is convenience for the episode xD

But it does lead to some good Sora moments and Taichi/Sora friendship. First, Sora is absolutely adorable. Even Agumon comments that she seems in a really good mood and Taichi can tell it’s because of how much she loves playing soccer. The way Sora talks to him, all fast and excited, is just so cute. You can tell she really loves soccer, especially with Taichi.

This episode kinda made me ship Taiora ;_; it was honestly more Taiora than any one episode in the 99 show...

Meanwhile, another giant object starts falling off the island towards the rest of the kids, and Palmon makes THE WEIRDEST SOUND. Like SO WEIRD. I think Yamada Kinoko passed out and made this noise while recording or something bahahahaha

Anyway it’s a refrigerator. Now appliances are falling out of the sky. I don’t understand why it makes the same size crater as the fruit despite being way heavier.

OMG baby Taichi’s hairrrrrrr I cannot

Soon they come across Flymon (why do Sora episodes always involved bugs...? This is the third time lol) who’s abducted a very helpless looking Digimon. They decide to help. Agumon gears up his Baby Flame but is stopped by Sora, who realizes that if they attack they might hurt the victim as well. I assume this is meant to tell us that, while Taichi’s brave and a strategist, another pair of eyes from someone like Sora whose first priority is others’ welfare is a big help.

... except that Sora’s plan for “tackle them” doesn’t seem to me that much better xD It still results in the poor abducted Digimon falling through the sky to her doom... I guess it’s better than falling out of the sky and alsobeing on fire tho

They catch the Digimon, who is Pomumon and just as pathetic as he looks. Meanwhile they’re being attacked by... Tropaliamon? Tropicanamon? lol I already forgot, a big bird with the ability to MELT ENTIRE FORESTS.

Pomumon explains that Evil Tropical Bird-mon and his Flymon invaded the island and started turning all the Pomumon into fruit. When the fruit ripen, they eat them. Pomumon is now the only Pomumon who hasn’t been fruit-ified.

Agumon: ... so... does this make me a cannibal?

Taichi: Maybe now you’ll be mindful of what you eat!

Okay and now the most AMAZING interaction ever, between Yamato and Mimi, and seriously it is a TRAVESTY that they don’t interact directly in the 99 series, I mean LOOK AT THE GOLD WE GET HERE,

Mimi says she hopes there’s fruit or juice in the fridge. Yamato makes an expression like someone just insulted his mother.

They then proceed to argue over what constitutes “juice” and Yamato’s all fired up about it and Mimi’s just like “lol not listening”

IT IS HILARIOUS. Quality content. Mimato shippers eat your heart out

And... this is all they do for the rest of the episode. bahaha. I DON’T EVEN CARE. I love the idea that they fought over this the WHOLE time and never even opened the fridge. The others just had to listen in baffled astonishment xD

Taichi and Sora fight Evil Tropical Bird-mon to save the Pomumon, but Taichi and MetalGreymon get knocked into the pitcher plant that turns Digimon into fruit.

Metla Greymon doesn’t quite fit into the fruit, his horns are really stretching it out lol.

and asdfghjkkl;’‘ TAICHI GETS TURNED INTO A FRUIT TOO, HE’S A DEFORMED BLUEBERRY, HIS GOGGLES THO, LMFAO

i really shouldn’t be as amused as I am

now... I have to say it - the one thing here is, the show has already played its trump cards like Omegamon and WarGreymon. I am sure they have more in store before the end, but the point is, it’s hard to believe Taichi is struggling against Digimon who seem like they shouldn’t have a chance against him. It’s like, you can defeat DoneDevimon, but not Evil-Tropical-Birdmon? You can escape the influence of Millenniumon’s miasma, but not a pitcher plant?? lol

Sora gets ANGRY when Taichi becomes Taichi-fruit. Her Crest of Love glows and brings out Garudamon. Taiora fans around the world screamed.

One way or another, this leaves Sora on her own (yay). And she is a busy girl. She wants to save Taichi first, but Pomumon also needs her help, and Garudamon needs her support while fighting the enemy.

Pomumon: don’t worry about me! I can fly on my own! *fails miserably*

Sora’s face says “I just don’t understand this world,” lol

They are then attacked by Flymon, and Pomumon still pretty much expects Sora to protect him. Sora’s like, “Fine, I’ll deal with Flymon, but you have to go save your friends,” and when Pomumon asks how, she just says “GOOD LUCK” and tosses him away, which honestly made me laugh out loud, you go girl

she’s like QUIT BEING SO USELESS DO SOMETHING ON YOUR OWN and just chucks him

buhahahaha

Pomumon, despite being useless, is able to free one of his comrades. After a brief discussion about how useless they are, they go to save the others.

I believe I can fly

I believe I can touch the sky

think about it every night and day

spread my wings and fly away

Sora thinks back to yet another soccer game where another student did a foul, I guess, on Taichi, and knocks him to the ground. Seeing Sora get so angry and protective of Taichi - omg, it totally squeezes my heat, gah. And it also makes her look so cool. Not just the girl in the back who comforts you when you fall down - also the one who runs up and tells the bully to back off!

that hair tho

Even though he’d been hurt, Taichi encouraged Sora not to quit playing and to win the game. In present time, Sora recalls that instance and uses it to push herself onward:

At this point, I could’ve gotten annoyed: as much as I loved the Taiora friendship and seeing their teamwork, it’s Sora’s episode, and I didn’t want her to succeed because of “what I learned from Taichi.” However, it’s very similar to Koushirou’s episode, where it was the faith Taichi had in him that gave Koushirou the confidence to find the courage he already had. It’s similar for Sora. Plus, since she’s got the Crest of Love, it makes perfect sense that love for her friend would be a motivating factor here.

On top of that - the things Sora thinks about Taichi are then echoed by Garudamon, only about Sora. Sora won’t give up because Taichi never does - and Garudamon won’t give up because Sora never does. You can see the chain reaction: friends building each other up through their support and faith in each other. Very sweet.

buhahahahahaha the freaking taichi blueberry

I really expected Taichi would be a little more wigged out about having been TURNED INTO A FRUIT, but once he’s free he’s like “Thanks, now let’s get back to the fight!” lol

to be fair there were only a couple minutes left in the episode, no time for freak outs i suppose

They save MetalGreymon who goes to back up Garudamon, but then Sora comes up with a plan.

Of course, it’s related to soccer.

Obligatory Cool Girl Soccer Star Sora shot

They kick the ball to lead the Pomumon’s seed? attack directly into Evil Tropical Bird-mon’s mouth. This... seems to be our kids’ favorite play this season, lmao

While choking on seeds, Garudamon and MetalGreymon launch their attacks and finally defeat him. Yaaaay goodbye weirdass fruit transmogrifying cannibal Digimon bird thing

Taichi tells Sora she’s awesome T______T It’s soooooooo sweet. My Taiora heart leapt

and my Taishiro heart whispered “he said カッコよかった to her but saves すごい for Koushirou <3 “ lol

Soooooo cute. MVP

Garudamon agrees that Sora is awesome

Ending card

So... the honest truth is yeah, this episode wasn’t necessary for the plot at all, and it would have been nice if it had been. But not all of the others’ center episodes were plot-related either. The important thing was for it to be wholly Sora’s episode and give her some Crest-related development. It did both those things.

I really would have liked a conundrum for Sora to fix, but I think the problem there is, since before now she wasn’t getting attention at all, they hadn’t set much of a foundation for that conundrum. The first time around, it was “oh, Sora is kind, so she wants to help anyone she sees” and there was a bit of personality clash with Yamato. Though it was small, it was a good bit of development and useful for two characters. It also led to Yamato and Sora’s friendship strengthening. With Taichi and Sora, we’ve been told they’re friends and teammates, but have not seen many strong examples of that. And, if there’s a fight between them, it could easily turn into a Taichi episode... that’s what I think anyway. So I guess the focus point for this episode was showing how Sora’s deep love for her friends strengthens her already, and maybe there’ll be more complex problems in the future, perhaps when she gets her next evolution... We’ll see.

Anyway. Good episode. So glad to see this show seems to be pretty solidly back on the rails. We only have like 20 episodes left though, seems like a lot but it’ll go fast.

That’s why I’m a bit surprised to see that next week looks like another not really plot-related episode:

Takeru and Yamato are going to a theme park. There’s no context for why they’re not with the others, but my guess is Takeru wanted to go and Yamato took him... easy as that xD I guess we’ll see, but I really hope this doesn’t mean the team is splitting up again.

However, we really do need quality time with Yamato and Takeru as well, so I’m all for this. It’s like the show really has got some self-awareness about how lax it’s been developing characters and relationships thus far and is now cranking it HARD to fit everything in we’ve been missing. Good.

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon psi #digimon adventure:#digimon reboot #fizz watches digimon 2020 #digimon #didnt check for typos as usual

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ronoken · 3 years

Text

Story starter - Take Your Shot

This is something original that I’ve started brewing. It’s loosely based on my fan works, but this is 100% mine. I think I know where I want to go with this, but I figured I’d post the first rough chapter here for you to enjoy.

Let me know what you think.

***

“Step right up! Step right up! Take a shot and win a prize! One dollar gets you ten shots!”

Gina Mosey took a bite of her ice cream cone as her eyes drifted to the shooting booth. It was a warm autumn evening and she and her friends were out enjoying themselves on a Friday night. The carnival had rolled into town just that afternoon, setting up in the abandoned General Miller’s grocery store near her home. She was out with her friends, Andre and Tulip, and after riding several terrifyingly flimsy rides, they were wandering the game booths and pigging out on sugar.

“Hey, check out that booth,” Andre said. He was munching on an oversized elephant ear and gesturing with his food towards the stand. “It’s setup like an old timey shooting gallery.”

Gina made a ‘mmm’ noise in agreement as she took another bite of her chocolate cone. She was careful not to get it on her jean jacket. It may have had a slew of frayed band patches all over it, but the ornate stitching on the back had been done by her mother. It had been a birthday gift, and even thought Gina didn’t make a big deal out of it, she absolutely adored it. So what if it did clash with her black, flower print tee shirt? So what if it didn’t exactly go with her jean shorts and black leggings? Aside from her beat-up converse, her jacket was her prized article of clothing, and she wasn’t about to get a stain on it.

Beside her, Tulip started hopping up and down excitedly. She was in a green dress that offset her dark skin nicely, and the green barrettes in her short, black hair shown yellow in the carnival lights. Her face was fixed in what Gina had long ago accepted to be a permanent smile.

“I wanna give it a try! This looks fun!” Tulip said. She broke from their small group and half-ran over to the large, dark shooting booth. Gina and Andre followed, both taking in the detail of the gallery. There were painted hills, some houses, a fence, and what looked like a barn in the corner. Moving on a rickety track were metal ducks, cows, chickens, and on a fence post in the back was a small squirrel. All of them were on what looked like small metal sticks.

“One dollar gets you ten shots,” the carny sad from beside them. Gina noted he was dressed exocentrically for a barker. He had an old, red felt tuxedo and an oversized top hat. His eyes were hidden behind a set of oversized spectacles, and he was grinning like a jack-o-lantern. He turned his head towards Gina and leaned in. “Care to give it a go?”

Tulip handed the carny a dollar and picked up a flimsy-looking BB gun. She took aim and after ten shots, managed to knock down three ducks and a cow.

“Not bad, not bad,” the carny said as he handed her an oversized green duck plushie. He looked again to Gina. “Miss? Care to try?”

“I’ll try,” Andre said. He fished a dollar out of his red flannel shirt and handed it to the carny. Gina watched as he ran his hand through his slightly unkept blond hair and took aim. He managed to hit a chicken, a cow, and four ducks.

“Why, not bad at all, sonny. Here, have a prize for your trouble.” Gina watched as the carny handed her friend a small, red and green basketball.

Andre smirked at Gina and said, “Bet’cha can’t do better.”

Gina glanced at the targets and then at the carny. She considered saying no, but it did look kind of fun, and if there was one thing she had never been able to do in the 15 years she had been alive, it was turn down a challenge from Andre. They had grown up together, and as a result, they had been through hundreds of dares, challenges, and fights.

And Gina hated losing to him. Like, seriously hated it.

Gina handed him her ice cream and fished a dollar out of her jean jacket. She handed it to the carny and reached for a BB gun, but the carny cleared his throat.

“Excuse me,” he said in a slightly quieter voice than before. Gina watched as he reached behind the counter and brought out a very different looking gun. It was larger, and slightly heavier. The handle looked like it cocked down and up to load, just like the other BB guns, but it was obvious that the overall quality of the gun was superior to the ones out for use. “I believe this rifle might be more to your liking, Miss.”

Gina stared at the rifle for a moment before giving a small nod and carefully taking the gun from the carny’s hands. She hefted it for a moment, allowing herself to get used to the weight before she settled against the counter and adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses. Green eyes narrowed as she followed the sight at the end of the barrel towards a flimsy tin duck.

BAM!

Three ducks went down in a row.

Tulip let out a whistle as Andre shrugged and frowned. “So what? It’s just beginner’s luck.”

Gina frowned and glared at the chicken targets. “Hey Andre?” Gina muttered.

“Yeah?” Andre replied.

BAM!

“Shut up.”

Andre and Tulip stared, slack-jawed, as two chickens, two cows, a bird, and a rotating sun target over the barn all fell one after the other.

“How’d you do that?” Andre asked, dumbfounded. “Your mom doesn’t even let you play laser tag!”

Gina shrugged and took aim at a rabbit target. She pulled the trigger and watched the rabbit fall.

“Dunno,” Gina said. “I just… Did?”

“You have one more shot,” the carny said. He pointed at the squirrel target in the back. “If you can hit that squirrel, I might have a special prize for you.”

Gina bit her lip and took aim.

BAM!

The tin squirrel rocked back and disappeared.

“We have a winner!” The carny cried out. He took the gun back from Gina and rooted around behind the counter. Meanwhile, Tulip was staring at her with eyes as wide as saucers.

“You’re amazing! Do you have a shooting game at home?” Tulip stared awestruck at her friend.

Andre let out a snort. “Dr. Mosey wouldn’t spend money on a shooting game if her life depended on it,” he said. Gina nodded in agreement.

“It’s true. Mom isn’t a fan, so, yeah.” She glanced at the targets again. “I just, um, did it. That was my first time.”

“Well then,” the carny said as he popped up from behind the counter. “I’d say that deserves something special. A special prize for a special lady.”

Gina eyed the carny as he handed her what looked like a leather bracelet. She looked back at Tulip’s green stuffed chicken and cocked an eyebrow. “Um, no offense, but how is this better than a chicken?”

“That right there is a special charm bracelet,” the carny said as he handed it to Gina. “There’s not many out there of this quality, nor that can take charms quite like these. I assure you,” the carny leveled his gaze at Gina. “This is a very rare prize. In fact, I’d been waiting to see who would win it, and here you are.”

“Yeah,” Gina said as she backed away from the somewhat creepy carny. “Here I am, and here I go. Thanks, Mister.”

“Anytime,” the carny said as the trio of kids drifted away. He grinned after them as they disappeared into the crowd. “Anytime at all.”

***

By the time Gina got home, it was late. Andre and Tulip had walked her to her door, but honestly it wasn’t like it was out of their way. They all lived on the same little winding suburban street. It was one of those neighborhoods that was teetering on being either really nice or really run-down, and with the number of rentals that had popped up over the last few years, it was tilting towards the latter.

Gina kicked off her shoes and looked around the quiet, dark two-story home. Her mother was working late, as usual. Gina let out a small sigh and headed to the kitchen for some soda. It wasn’t like she blamed her mom for working; someone had to, after all. Gina just wished from time to time that they had more time for each other after…

Gina popped the top of her soda can and took a long swig as she wandered into the living room. She then glanced to the family picture hanging above the couch.

“Hey dad,” Gina said to the picture. He was in a white dress shirt with a red tie, and his arm was around her mother’s waist. She was grinning and her hair was curly and hanging in her face, and between them was Gina, just a year younger than she was now.

Gina sighed. The three of them looked blissfully happy.

“So, I had fun at the carnival. Andre won a basketball. Did you know he sucks at shooting?”

Gina smiled and took another sip of soda. “And, like, I’m apparently awesome at it? Who knew? You would have been impressed.”

Gina stood in the dimly lit room and hugged herself. “I wish you’d been there. We should have all gone together. I wish mom could have gone, but she’s done nothing but work since, well, you know.”

Gina held up her hands. “And that’s cool! I mean, I get it. She’s trying to make sure we’re taken care of, but, like…”

She looked around the empty room.

“I’m lonely, dad. I miss you. I miss telling you about my day.”

Gina wiped at the hot tears starting to slide down her cheeks. She quickly finished off the can of soda and headed upstairs to her bedroom.

“So,” she said as she closed the door to her cluttered, poster-lined room. Around her, the faces of numerous grunge bands stared back. She carefully navigated around the piles of dirty clothes and flopped down on her bed, her jean jacket jingling as she did so.

She fished into her pocket and pulled out the charm bracelet. Idly, she examined it in the yellow light that was pouring in from her window.

“Weird,” she muttered as she slipped it on. “I mean, the bullet is cool, I guess? Could I even wear this to school? Hmm.”

Gina turned her wrist slightly, letting the bullet charm catch the light from the streetlamp. Gina didn’t notice as the light shining on it went from the pale yellow to having some blue reflecting off of it.

“I guess I’m a crack shot,” she mused. “I wonder what kind of gun that was?”

“Well, it looked ta me like a really cheap Berthier rifle.”

Gina let out a surprised cry and scrambled to a sitting position against her wall at the sound of the voice. It had a thick southwest accent, and it had come from right beside her.

Horrified, Gina stared wide-eyed at what was before her.

Standing right next to her bed was a glowing, ghostly blue outline of what looked like a short woman in her 20’s. She was in what looked like a rugged dress with some ornate lace around the collar and sleeves. She had long, curly hair and a huge grin on her face. She was holding what looked like a glowing blue rifle, and she winked as she reached up to tip her Stetson hat to the terrified girl.

“Howdy, ma’am.”

Gina screamed.

#original character #original story #take your shot #Gina Mosey

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playinonaloop · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2: I’ll give you war

Warnings through out the series: (mentions of) smut, violence, drugs, alcohol, guns, maffia stuff, ya know!

Story masterlist

As soon as he said that he left the room. Leaving you all to yourself as the sun began to set. Seeing as it was setting, it had to be around nine o’clock already. It did leave you wondering which day it already was. How long had you been knocked out? As hundreds of thoughts whirred through your head you heard the door open behind you.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you” The voice that spoke to you made you shiver. It had been 19 years since you saw him. This time you didn’t try to turn around to take a look. You didn’t need to see him. Scratch that, you don’t want to see him. He got closer; his footsteps were much heavier than the last time you heard them.

“So, you’re not going to say anything?” He was now standing in front of you. Joe Ricciardo, looking at you directly. You tried to look away as he came down to your eyesight.

“You let your brother leave you behind, for you not to talk at all? To be too scared to look me in the eye” You now looked directly at him, hatred fueling your heart as you stared in his brown eyes. Joe inched close, now merely centimeters away from your face. You couldn’t read his gaze, so you resorted to being yourself; headbutting him and smiling afterwards.

“Ouch! Shit!” He stumbled backwards as he grabbed his nose. Blood was already running down his lips. You started laughing. Joe took a look at you while you cleared your throat.

“Daniel takes after his father, I see”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“That he fell for the same dumb trick, but you are even more stupid. Coming closer while I’m as silent as can be” Joe now started smiling too, realizing you didn’t change one bit. He sat down in front of you, about a meter away, as he held his nose to make the bleeding stop. You were now wondering what he was thinking about. Joe just sat there, looking at you.

“What are you thinking about?” Your question pierced through the air making his eyes now focus on your eyes.

“How you haven’t changed at all. In all those years I haven’t seen you. God, how long has it been?”

“Nineteen years Joe, it has been that long since you… S-since you killed Rich”

He completely ignored the comment about Rich and jumped onto another question. It was as if he was afraid to talk about is. You could see his eyes twitch as he asked the question.

“So, you’re 28, now right? You were three years younger right? Can’t seem to remember”

“Yeah, 28 now”

Joe became silent, he looked at the floor. This made him look weak. If he was vulnerable, now was the time to try and pry information out of him or try and get yourself out of here.

“Joe?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really hungry and my throat is dry. It might be too much to ask but could you get me something to drink or eat? Please?” He looked at you which made you make yourself look as parched and hungry as you could. To be honest, you were starving and parched but you knew this was crucial for you getting out of here.

“Y-Yeah of course, you might be our hostage but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get food or water!” He got up at once and ran out of the room.

How was he so nice? Wasn’t he supposed to be the mean evil bastard that killed Rich and started the war?

You met a face with a big grin when you looked up to Joe. “Hiya darling, ready for another playdate?” He scooped you up in his arms and cuddled you softly. You giggled and nodded. Joey was cuddled up against his leg as your parents said their goodbyes to Grace and Joe. The two of you were going to spend the afternoon at the Ricciardo’s as your mum and dad had some important business meetings to attend. Joe took you and Joey into the spacious home they occupied. Michelle and Daniel came running at you and they immediately took off with Joey. Joe had just put you down, but since you were younger and thus smaller you weren’t as quick to follow them. Daniel was waiting for you at the top of the stairs, smiling down as you got on the stairs. “Thanks for waiting for me!” You said with a smile on your face. Daniel smiled back at you and said “Always” The two of you walked towards the playroom to join his sister and your brother.

A few hours went by as you waited for him to come back. The sun had left the surface and the room had gone dark. You heard ticking of a clock somewhere in the room, probably on the back wall. The curtains weren’t closed so it gave you a wonderful view of the sky outside. It was clear out, so you could see the stars. Nobody had come in since Joe had visited you. It made you wonder, was he making a four-star dinner for you? Or was something else going on. Something that should concern you, something that could change everything for you. But you were so tired, and you guessed it was getting late. You couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer.

“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!” You felt a big push at your back as you opened your eyes. It startled you awake, that was the least to say. The voice was recognizable everywhere. Michelle, Daniel’s sister.

“So, today, we’re going to have some fun!”

“And what is that Michelle?”

“Well, first you are going to eat and drink. It is surprising to see you’re still alive after 30 hours without water” 30 hours, that’s how long it has been since Joey left you behind. You licked your lips before you spoke.

“The human body can go without water for 48 hours. It’s not that surprising”

Michelle now walked to you, turning you around towards the door. She had a cup in her hand.

“Listen, if you even think about headbutting me like you did with dad and Danny, I swear to God I will kill you.” You let out a small giggle as she came closer.

“You always were smarter than he was, don’t worry you’re bringing me the things I need most at this moment. I won’t be stupid enough to do something now.” She smiled as she got down on one knee, bringing the cup up to your mouth. You started drinking quickly, getting as much fluid in as possible. Michelle took the cup away as she stood again to grab something else. She turned her back to you and you heard some plastic being ripped off. When she turned back, she had a sandwich in her hand. She got back on her knee and fed you small pieces of the bread.

“Nice, huh. Finaly some food inside your stomach!”

“Yeah, but why are you being so nice?”

“Oh don’t worry hun, Like I said, we’re going to have a good evening!” She smiled as she took the sandwich away. The door in front of you opened and Grace came through the door. She hadn’t changed one bit in all those years. The sound of screeching wheels filled the room.

“G’day hun! Time to make your presence worth while.” A sinister smile embellished her mouth. It was the same smile like Danny had two days ago. Michelle turned you back around, making you face the window again. There was a jangling of iron objects that sent a shiver down your spine.

“So, since you’re here and we need to get some information, we’re going to have a chat. How’s your dad?” Grace spoke as she sat down in front of you.

“My dad is fine, why?”

“Well, we’ve heard some news that your family is making some steps into the higher ranks of politics”

“Yeah, we are” This was not an unknown secret, your dad had been walking this road for about a year now.

“Then you can also tell me how he’s getting that money?”

“I will not” Grace was onto something bigger and you knew it was crucial to not tell them anything.

“I think you should tell us, y/n. It will be less painful that way” Michelle spoke as you felt a knife spin on your cheek.

“Well, I think your family should tell the world that you’re all tide up in a drugs scandal. You know, the coke and meth stuff” You spoke as you wiggled on you chair.

This was the moment you knew you wouldn’t leave the room unharmed, which was no surprise. Instead of showing your fear you smiled at Grace.

“You should know, there is no way you’re getting me to talk” As a statement you winked at her.

“Then we’re doing this the hard way”

The hard blow you received to your knees thundered into your head. A scream left your mouth as you dove in pain. Michelle turned the tray over as she checked for a dent in it. The knife she was carrying came closer after she dropped the tray. You noticed that your neck was now bare, so you quickly shot up. Grace had picked up more duck tape by now and Michelle grabbed your hair. "Of course we don't want to wake up the whole house." Now that the duck tape had been pulled over your mouth and Grace had taken over your hair, Michelle came terrifyingly close. She turned the knife in her hand and now rested it against your chest. One quick move further and your t-shirt was in half so you were now in your bra. "It's special that you attack in a nice bra, that's a shame. Who thought you would seduce?" She now put the knife just below your collarbone and let it slide superficially over your body. Blood was released, but it hardly hurt. This was probably due to the adrenaline rushing through your body. Michelle drew a few lines across your upper body like this. Then twisting the knife a little deeper in some places. "So tell me where does the money come from" You shook your head and looked at Michelle, a frown on your face. "Then we'll go on, Mom can I have the next part?" Grace handed Michelle a spray bottle. She shook it briefly and handed the knife back to her mother. Meanwhile, the pain slowly set in and with it a headache. Out of nowhere, Michelle sprayed the mysterious stuff on your upper body. It provided immediate pain that burned through to the rest of your body. "And now, tell us something?" With tears in your eyes you shook no again. This evoked the following methode of torture. This was also without success. Grace sighed, Michelle threw her things on the floor in frustration. "This is useless Michelle, forget it. We are going to clean up" And with this statement they started to clean up and left the room shortly afterwards. As soon as they left you slipped out of consciousness.

The bench made a soft whooshing sound while you were laying on top of it. Wind was pushing you in a steady rhythm as you turned a page of your book. To be honest it was a boring book, but since your English teacher had put it onto the list you read it. You weren’t the person to skip homework, or slack anything for that fact.

“Hey ugly, wanna join us on the dirtbikes?”

Joey screamed at you from the barn. You propped yourself up on one elbow as you yelled back at him.

“I can’t, dad says I am too young!”

Now Daniel emerged from the back of the shed with an extra helmet on his dirtbike.

“Do you see your dad around?”

Daniel asked as Joey reved his bike, the sound was hyping you up to say yes.

“No, b-but I don’t want to get into trouble”.

“Well, we aren’t going to tell him if you don’t tell him”

Joey put on his helmet and got on the bike.

“Now or never, y/n!” Daniel screamed, making you put down your book and getting up. You sprinted towards him, grabbing the helmet snd hopping on the back of the dirtbike. He looked at you as he put on his helmet and got on the bike and followed Joey. The sudden movement brought you out of balance which made you grab Daniel by the waist. You heard Daniel laugh as you scooted closer to make sure you didn’t fall off. Joey was driving so fast that Daniel almost couldn’t keep up. You lost Joey and Daniel decided to go off road through the woods. Next was a steep hill, which made Daniel go even faster. On top of the hill the two of you came to a stop. Daniel let you get off safely, you taking of your helmet as soon as your feet were planted on the ground.

“Nice ride huh?”

Daniel asked as he put his helmet on the bike.

“Yeah, quite fast too”

You replied softly as the view took away your breath.

“How’s school y/n?”

“It’s fine Danny, boring but fine”

He chuckled: “You’re nine, how is it boring but fine?!”

“Because it just is”

You turned around and looked at him. He was standing next to the bike with a big grin on his face. Suddenly the sound of a bike was getting close, next Joey came upon the hill.

“Y/n, we’ve got to go. Dad’s home”

You weren’t able to see his face due to his helmet but his voice wasn’t normal.

“But why? I know I’m not supposed to be on a bike but w-“

“Now y/n! We’ve got to go, family stuff is happening.” You put on your helmet and walked towards him.

“You are following us back, right Danny?”

You asked as you looked at him.

“I think it’s better if you get home too Daniel, it’s safer that way”

Joey spoke as he pulled you close.

“But why, this is your bike Joey?”

“Take it, we’re leaving”

And with that Joey put you on the bike, got on and drove away.

Click here for chapter three!

#fanfic #imagine #f1 #fic #daniel ricciardo #writing #formula one #mob!au #torture #angst

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pxnk-velvet · 3 years

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The Dancing Warrior: Water, Chapter 9

(Sokka x OC Reader)

The sun was long gone, sunken deep behind the horizon as the fire glowed golden, just like the sun. The sky was a deep, deep blue, almost black, and the water along the shore just as dark to match. Accompanied by the full moon shining down on everything.

There they sat across from each other on the cold sand. The Fire Nation girl and Water Tribe boy. Navani sat with her legs crossed in front of her, leaning back on her palms, running her fingers through the grainy sand. She let out a sigh, careful not to be to loud. Katara and Aang were fast asleep only a few feet away from them.

She moved to a normal sitting position, glancing at Sokka poking at the fire with a stick. He sat with his knees up, starring at the fire, thought heavy on his mind. And it didn’t go unnoticed by the girl. She got up quietly, and settling beside him. She could tell something was one his mind, maybe she could help him.

“Are you ok?” She asked, gently placing her hand over his, taking the stick from his grasp.

He didn’t look at her, “Mhmm.” She ignited a small ball of fire from her palm. Adding the small flame to maintain the bigger one.

She turned and looked him in the eyes, “What are you thinking about?” Again taking his hand in hers.

Glancing down, intertwining their fingers he began, “Two years ago my dad and the other warriors left for battle. I had my war paint on, bags packed and everything. Ready to go off to war. But dad said I was too young. Even though he though I was a strong warrior. He said I needed to stay in the south to protect Katara and the rest of the village. Saying that a man knows where he is needed most.”

She looked at him with sad eyes, not realizing the lump forming in her throat. Her heart ached in her chest as she ran her thumb along the back of his hand, “I’m sorry, it must’ve been hard for you. Having to look after a village with your sister and all.”

“Yeah, I don’t know how anyone could live without a father. Let alone me.” He looked up, catching her gaze. He saw something he had never seen in her eyes before. They swelled with sadness, drooping almost. But he could tell that she was trying to make it seem like they weren’t. She was putting on a forefront. Then he had realized what he had said.

“Oh, Navani. I didn’t mean it like that.” He apologized, turning towards her and taking both her hands in his.

Her head hung low, “I know you didn’t. It’s alright.” She explained, speaking so her words wouldn’t waver. When she looked back up, tears swelled in her water line. He pulled her to his chest, holding her tightly. Her arms wrapped around him as she pressed her face to his chest, trying hard not to cry.

She couldn’t help it but all she could think about was how lucky he was to have a dad in the first place. Yes, she knew her father was out there somewhere, but when she was little she would fall asleep, wishing for him to return home. Hoping that he really did want her as a daughter. But she’s gone 15 years without a father and she could handle 15 more. Or at least she thought she could. The way she sat in Sokka’s arms sobbing said so otherwise.

The boy caressed her hair, like how he had seen Meena do before, “Hey, it’s ok. I didn’t mean to make that sound the way it did.”

Navani pulled away, looking at him with glossy eyes and tear stained cheeks, “It’s not your fault, Sokka. I shouldn’t even be crying over something so irrelevant in my life. Something so stupid.” She scoffed, feeling the lump in her throat grow heavier, along with her tears. She looked towards the sky to prevent them from falling.

Sokka placed his hand on her cheek, guiding her gaze back to him, “It’s not stupid, ok? These feelings you’re feeling aren’t stupid. It’s ok to let them out every once in a while, and I can tell that you’ve needed to for a very long time.”

She sniffled, looking him in the eyes as she spoke, “Thank you,” She wiped away her tears, “I guess I did need that...”

“You can always come to me for things like this.” He gave her a warm smile, finally having a moment to take her in.

The light from the fire illuminated her skin, highlighting her amber eye beautifully. Almost as if it was glowing. Meanwhile the moon aided her blue eye, turning it gorgeous shade of blue, a bit brighter than normal. She just looked so captivating and he couldn’t resist. She watched him lean in closer, glancing down at her lips as if asking it was ok. She answered by leaning in further. Their lips a fraction of a second apart, only stopping at the sound of a stick snapping under someone’s foot.

“Who’s there?!” They both jumped from their sitting position, Sokka wielding his boomerang and Navani shifting into a fight stance, her palms igniting a flame.

A man in water tribe clothing, with basically his whole left side of his torso and arm wrapped in bandages, emerged from the shadows behind them.

“Sokka?” He called once he was in close enough range.

Sokka’s confused expression shifted into a smile, “Bato?” Navani still stood in her stance, unsure if she should back down or not. At this point Katara and Aang had awoken.

Navani let down her guard, returning to a normal standing position as Sokka and Katara ran towards the stranger for a hug, “It is so good to see you two! You’ve grown so much.” The man cheered happily.

Aang walked past her to greet the man, so she figured she should join in as well.

“Hi, I’m Aang.” He bowed.

“And I’m Na-“ She began, only to be interrupted by Sokka and Katara asking questions. Her face fell and shoulders slouched as a big gust of wind sent chills through her body. Aang warmly placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a smile. Which she returned happily.

Soon Bato had lead them to the abbey where he was being cared for. Introducing the group of young adults to the sisters and leading them into his room. He pulled the door aside, Sokka and Katara gushing at the sight. Different decorations were hung on the walls, pelts were laid out on the floor, and there was a pot in the middle of the room with something cooking in it.

Katara and Sokka made themselves right at home, walking in.

“Bato!” Katara gasped, “It looks just like home!”

“Everything’s here. Even the pelts.” Sokka exclaimed, crouching down to run his fingers through the fur.

Aang trailed slowly behind them, “Yeah...nothing’s more cozy than animal skins.”

Navani stood in the doorway with a feeling in her gut that she didn’t like, “My mom had a few in her room. We didn’t really use them much since it never really got cold back home.”

Navani wandered in hesitantly, looking around. She recognized a few things, but other than that she was completely clueless. She eventually slowed, standing next to Aang. She somehow felt out of place, like she should know about these things even though she didn’t. She was a part of the culture after all....right?

Katara handed her and Aang small bowls of the sea prune stew. She loved eating them but she had only ever had them on occasion. Mostly because they typically didn’t agree with her stomach most of the time. But as she settled on the floor she took a small sip anyways, disregarding the fact that she would regret it later. She continued to eat her soup as Bato told stories from the South.

Soon after she had notice Aang get up from his spot and wander over to a hat hung up on the wall. As he placed it on his head, Navani couldn’t help it and giggled.

“Aang.” Bato called, “Please put that down. It’s ceremonial and very fragile.” Aang placed the hat back on the wall, walking to the other end of the room with a slouch.

Navani frowned at the sight, moving to go comfort the boy, only for Bato to ask, “And what about you, young lady? I never got your name.”

Navani turned, startled at the mans sudden interest in her, “I’m Navani.”

The man gestured towards her clothing, “I saw you fire bending earlier so I’m assuming you’re from the Fire Nation?”

“Oh, yeah.” She glanced down at her dark burgundy tunic, “But my mother, Meena, is from the Southern tribe.”

“Ah, yes! I knew you looked familiar. How could I forget?” Bato laughed and smiled, “She hated my guts but I will say that she is one of the best warriors I’ve ever seen.”

Navani smiled, “Yeah, she’s a great teacher.” Finally having a reason to warm up to the man.

“And what about your father?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“He’s Fire Nation and the reason I can do this.” Navani demonstrated, lighting a small flame in her hand, “I’ve never met him but he sends his regards every month.”

“Well,” Bato chuckled, “Leave it to Meena to fall in love with a man she can’t have.”

“Oh.” Navani muttered, recuperating her guilty and unwelcome feelings from just a few moments before, “Uh, I think I’m going to grab some fresh air.”

She stood up, making her way towards the door as her head hung low.

“Oh! And by the way, Navani, I suggest you change out of that tunic before someone gets the wrong idea.” Bato called just as she slid the door open. Navani didn’t turn to look at him. She didn’t mean to but she accidentally pushed the door closed a little too loud, catching the attention from all the people within the area.

She muttered an apology, quickly leaving the reserve for a walk. As she wandered down a trail she felt the lump in her throat form again. Not everyone form the Fire Nation is bad, she thought. She had unintentionally found herself at the beach they had set up camp earlier. She noticed Aang perched on the boat washed ashore. She slowed, deciding to give him his space.

She turned quickly at the sound of heavy footsteps and watched as a man rode by, stopping in front of Aang. Navani was too far away to hear and care frankly. She stood silently at the edge of the beach as her stomach lurched.

“Uh oh.” She muttered, grabbing her stomach in pain. She stumbled her way over to some bushes, letting go of the food she just ate. She coughed and gagged, her stomach blatantly rejecting the food entirely. Once she had finished she slumped against the side of a tree, feeling miserable.

“Why did I eat those sea prunes?” She complained out loud.

“Navani?” Aang questioned, walking over to her, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She struggled to stand, “I just shouldn’t have had the sea prunes. They can never sit right in my stomach.” She took hold of the boy’s outstretched hand, allowing him to put her arm around his shoulders for support.

“Well, let’s get you back to Sokka and Katara for some food that you can actually eat.”

===

The next morning she had woke up feeling better but she only got to relish in it for a little while. Seeing now that Bato was now taking them “ice” dodging, her stomach was doing flips again. Bato had instructed them all on what to do. Aang and Navani both in charge of the gip. Navani was nervous beyond belief. She had been on boats before but nothing ever like this. The boat rocked and jerked back and forth as they all took control of their positions. The only time she moved was when told to, other than that it was like she was frozen in place. She nearly wet her pants when the boat neared a blockade of rocks too close to each other to pass through.

“Aang, I need air in that sail.” Sokka commanded, “Katara, Navani, I want you to bend as much water as you can between us and those rocks.”

Navani waddled over the the side of the boat, careful not to get too close to the edge.

“Now!” Sokka yelled, signaling everyone. Aang blew gusts of wind into the sail as Navani and Katara moved swiftly to bend the water beneath the boat. They all let out sighs of relief once they made it over the rocks. Once they docked the boat on the shore, Navani raced off, happy to be in solid land again.

“The spirits of water bare witness to these marks.” Bato exclaimed, “For Sokka, the mark of the wise.” The man painted a symbol on Sokka’s forehead. The Katara, who bared the mark of the brave. And now Navani.

“For Navani, the mark of the aid. For being there when needed.” Bato painted a symbol on her forehead as she smiled bashfully.

“Now for Aang, the mark of the trusted. You are now an honorary member of the water tribe.” Bato claimed, swiping his thumb across the boy’s forehead.

“I can’t.” Aang rebottled unexpectedly, startling them all and wiping off the fresh paint.

“Of course you can.” Katara exclaimed, only to have the boy protest again.

“Aang, what do you mean?” Navani questioned, stepping forward, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

His head hung low as he explained himself, “You can’t trust me. A messenger gave this to me for Bato.” He pulled out a wad of paper, handing it to Navani. She uncrumbled the paper, revealing a map. She hadn’t been able to see what it was a map of before Sokka snatched it from her hands from over her shoulder.

“This is a map to our father!” The boy yelled in her ear, causing her to jump back, “You had it the whole time?! How could you?!”

“Sokka, I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Navani tried, only for Sokka to push her aside.

“You can go to the North Pole on your own!” He turns to stomp off, looking over his shoulder, “Katara, Navani, are you coming?”

Navani and Katara stand beside each other, glancing from one another. Navani watched as Katara padded over to her brother.

“Sokka, you can’t just abandon Aang like this. You’ll get to see your father eventually.” She argued, anger bubbling inside her.

“Why are you even part of this?” Sokka stomped over, sticking a finger in her face, “I knew you wouldn’t understand! You don’t even have a dad!”

In that moment, her heart sank into her stomach and her palms grew hot. The anger the flowed within her went straight to her palms, creating flames but she quickly stopped herself, knowing it would only worsen the situation. Instead the anger diminished into sobs as she pushed past them and ran off, choking on her tears.

[][][]

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yergink · 4 years

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Bravery and a Bowline Ch. 2

Heavier on the fluff this time around! Also a bit longer than last chapter at 4.6k words.

First Chapter

Next Chapter

Crossposted to Ao3

Summary: Walter learns a bit about the other people on the island. Meanwhile, the kids decide to amuse themselves the best way kids know how.

They’re out gathering charcoal one day and Walter has a particular thought on his mind.

By now, his stay on this island the others call “the Constant” has reached a whopping ten days, and in that time, he’s been doing his best to be of help around camp.

For instance, he’d been helping Webber tend to the farms. Walter didn’t mind the dirt and muck staining his clothes, and he’d gone on a field trip to a farm for school once, during which he’d been paying a lot of attention, so he was sure he could help. They’d packed seeds into the ground with manure and mud, and to Walter’s surprise, the crops grew alarmingly quickly. Webber seemed to enjoy the company as well, chatting away about the things he liked as they worked. Walter’s found out they both have a similar penchant for bugs.

He’d been helping Wendy as well, and her biggest chore was tending to the rabbit traps spread amidst the plains. She showed him how to weave them and how to set them above the rabbits’ dens. That was where his help had ended, though. Walter tried to help her collect the traps at the end of the day, but he’d ended up feeling so bad for the rabbits that he’d ended up letting one go and Wendy said she’d handle it after that.

Still, Walter wants to be as helpful as he can, which is why he’d volunteered to help Willow gather fuel without realizing what exactly that would entail until. And then, he was standing in front of a forest ablaze, eyes wide as he watched Willow clap excitedly until the burn died down. When he’d piped up about fire safety, she’d just waved him off and reassured that this was a “controlled burn.” Walter didn’t think that was true, but he bit back his objections.

Now, amidst the scorched trees, he watches Willow heft her axe over her shoulder and asks, “You said there were other people on the island, right?” She pauses, adjusting her angle.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. There are. What about it?”

She swings the blade at the trunk of a freshly charred tree, and it crumbles under the force. Walter gets about, kneeling to gather the fallen pieces of charcoal and packing them away in his backpack. Woby, well-fed and in her large form, lies on her back in the sunlight just outside the forest.

Walter fidgets, rubbing his soot-stained fingers together. “Can I meet them?”

Willow snorts. She’s leaned down now, helping gather the pieces as well, and she stuffs the last charred branch away and straightens up. “When they decide to show up to our base, then sure. I’m not supposed to let any of the kids wander around.” She approaches the next tree, and before she can even regain the grip on her axe, Walter zips around it, clasping his hands together and putting on his best pout. His mom always told him he could convince the moon to fall with that face.

He’s not certain it’s going to be enough, but it does give Willow pause. “Stop using little kid powers on me, it isn’t gonna work.”

Walter pouts further, blinking a few times to make it really dramatic. His eyes water a little bit.

Willow makes a show of not looking at him, but after she cracks down the tree and sees him still waiting expectantly, her resolve seems to falter. She sighs. “Listen, I can’t really take a break to give you a whole tour of everyone’s camps, but I can tell you about the rest of them at least.”

“That works!” Walter chirps.

Her axe fells another tree. “So, I’ve mentioned Wilson before, right? He’s like, a scientist or whatever, which is just a codeword for ‘huge nerd’ if you ask me.”

Walter personally finds science rather enjoyable, so he just gives a small hum at that. “What kind of science?”

She makes a vague hand gesture. “He’s never really specific about it, to be honest. But he’s sort of a doctor. Or, he used to be, I think. Before we got here. And he used to be really stuck-up about it, too, thinking he was all smarter than the rest of us.”

“But not anymore?”

“I mean…” she trails off. “I think it was mostly just him being defensive. When it comes down to it, he’s really sweet, even if he is an idiot sometimes.” She turns, moving towards the next blackened trunk, but not before Walter catches the half-smile on her face, a look that seems uncharacteristically soft for Willow. She clears her throat. “Anyway. Ms. Wickerbottom also stays at the eastern camp with the kids. She can be a bit strict, but she’s pretty nice. She’s kind of like everyone’s grandma. You’ll probably get along with her pretty well, spouting off facts the way you do.”

They keep gathering, circling the edge of the forest line. In between felling trees, Willow’s counting off people on her fingers. “There’s Winona. She’s real spunky, and smart to boot. And there’s Mr. Wolfgang who comes off really intimidating, but he’s a sweetheart under all that muscle. He gives the best piggyback rides. And there’s Wigfrid--she can be a bit intense, but she isn't too bad. And--”

“Hey, Willow?” Walter interrupts. He feels like he’s back home trying to memorize plant names, and he wishes he had a notepad. “Maybe I’ll remember them better if I actually meet them.”

She laughs. “Sure.”

The sky grays out a bit by the time they finish hacking down trees and collecting the charcoal. The sight of incoming rain makes Willow anxious, and she gestures for them to begin the trek back to camp. The two of them walk side by side, Woby shuffling along quietly behind them. Walter shifts his hands up the backpack straps while they walk, getting a better hold on the heavy load. Despite intending to shelve the topic of the other people on the island, he can’t quite stop thinking about it.

Cautiously, he asks, “So, how many people are here in total?”

Willow hums in thought. “I think with you we’re up to a whole seventeen.”

Seventeen people. It’s a bit difficult for Walter to comprehend. Not the number itself, mind you, but that so many people would have been lost here and had yet to find a way home. It’s worrying, although Walter doesn’t want to linger on it for too long. If he’s honest, the biggest concern he has is that this is going to make him get sick of camping.

...He just hopes his mom isn’t worrying too much.

After they return to camp and unpack the charcoal into the boxes by the fire, he notices Willow keep glancing fretfully at the clouded sky, and she juts her thumb towards the tent, saying that she’s going to take a nap before nightfall.

Walter nods, of course, fully intending to stay in camp as well, although as afternoon sets in and the promise of rain is still unfulfilled, he finds himself growing bored. He sits by the smoldering ashes of the firepit, tossing a stick across the length of camp for a now-small Woby to fetch, although it looks like even she is getting tired of doing so.

She drops the stick at his feet and whines, headbutting his arm when Walter reaches to throw it again. He lets the stick fall and scratches behind her ears. “You’re bored too, aren’t you,” he mumbles, and Woby barks in agreement. She darts away from him abruptly, pointing her nose towards the gate and running back and forth between it and where Walter is sitting.

He perks up a bit. “You wanna go on a walk?”

She barks. Walter stands, glancing back towards the tent, listening to Willow’s snores gently emanating from it, and then to the sky, weighing the risks. Then, he carefully unlatches the gate and slips out without looking back.

Together, he and Woby meander through the plains a bit. The air here doesn’t smell like the air back home; it’s got a sense of danger on it, not to mention the heavy smell of monster blood that Walter hasn’t entirely grown accustomed to. Still, there is still the thrill of taking it all in. Nature is nature, and Walter has learned to appreciate that. He even has a badge for it.

The tall straw-like grass begins to give way into forest, and he’s wandered back into the midst of the deciduous trees, where he first met Wendy. As autumn has gone on, more and more of the trees have gone bare, and with the clouded sky the forest has a much eerier atmosphere than usual. Woby sniffs out mushrooms for him to pick, particularly the spongy green ones that tend to sprout in the evening.

He’s just crouched down behind a few bushes to dig up another one when he pauses, the sound of voices brushing by on the wind.

There are several. One of them is high, an echoey sort of trill that he recognizes as Wendy immediately. There’s also that haunting wispy sort of noise that Wendy’s sister Abigail always makes. She doesn’t speak with words the way Wendy does, and Wendy’s the only one who can understand her, but she’s a good translator. Walter thinks he and Abigail have become pretty good friends, even if he was a bit creeped out by her at first.

Then, he hears a third voice, one that’s unfamiliar. Woby starts growling, a low, threatening rumble that doesn’t sound right coming from her small body. Walter shushes her, going still to try and hear what was going on.

The unfamiliar voice is talking. It’s a deep, smooth cadence, and it makes Walter think of that old ragtime tune that had played on the radio that brought him here.

“--struck with a bout of insomnia and was coming by for some assistance,” the voice says.

“Out of nowhere?” Wendy asks.

“I believe it has to do with that ridiculous robot screeching up a storm every night just over the river.”

Walter pushes aside the lower branches of the bush to get a better view. He sees Wendy, standing by a nearby pond with an older looking man in a sharp suit. Immediately, he’s a bit suspicious. The man is tall, and he all but towers over Wendy, leaning slightly down towards her as they talk. Walter feels Woby, still rumbling with a quiet growl beside him as he looks on.

He watches Wendy shake her head. “I’m afraid Ms. Wickerbottom is currently absent from camp. Both she and Mr. Higgsbury embarked to the underground nearly a fortnight ago. Only Ms. Willow is there right now.”

The man scoffs. “They left you in the care of the firestarter? I wouldn’t trust that woman to look after a goldfish, much less a child.”

“To be fair, uncle, it would be extremely difficult to burn a goldfish.”

Walter looks to Woby, who cocks her head in what seems like an equal amount of confusion. “Uncle” ?

The two conversing fall into a lull of silence. The man clears his throat.

“...And you’re sure you won’t reconsider staying at my camp?” he asks. There’s a hesitation behind his words, an uncertainty that marrs his otherwise smooth, charismatic tone, roughening it around the edges.

“I do not feel comfortable leaving the camp at this time,” Wendy says after a moment’s thought. “And, in fairness, I believe Ms. Willow to be a good caretaker. You needn’t worry.”

The man coughs. “Right.” He glances backwards. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

A peal of thunder rumbles across the sky, and Wendy murmurs, “May you stay well,” as the man leaves. She watches him leave with that odd sort of stillness of hers, like a statue in the forest. A few leaves fall, sticking in her hair, though she does not move until the man has entirely vanished from view. It’s only then that Walter makes a move.

“Wendy!” he calls, shaking himself out of the bushes. “Who was that?”

Wendy pauses, glancing to Abigail, then back at him. “You were eavesdropping,” she frowns.

“Kinda,” Walter admits. “So who was that?”

With some trepidation, she says, “That was our”--she indicates to herself and Abigail with a nod--”Uncle Maxwell. He camps by the rock fields.”

Woby barks, and Walter looks down to see that she’s glaring in the direction the man left, her hackles raised and tail angled in alert. He frowns. “Woby stop, that’s not nice.”

Usually, a command like that would be enough to calm her, but she growls again, low and threatening, pawing at the ground like she’s about to run off after him.

“Woby, what’s wrong with you?” Walter exclaims, swooping to pick her up before she has a chance to take off. The dog squirms in his arms, and he struggles to keep his hold on her, her back paws digging into his stomach as he tries to get her to still.

“She probably senses Their presence in him” Wendy suggests, her head tilted sideways as she watches him grapple.

He rests a hand on Woby’s head, scratching in the space between the bumps of her horns as her growls begin to taper off. “What do you mean?”

One of her hands reaches for the flower clipped in her hair--a nervous habit. “I forgot that you don’t know.” Upon seeing her sister hesitate, Abigail floats closer, whispering in that airy, incomprehensible tone. It seems to help, because even as Wendy looks away, she keeps talking.

“My uncle was the one who brought many of us here,” she explains. “And even while he has lost his crown of shadows, there are many who have continued to forego forgiveness.”

“Oh,” Walter says. He doesn’t know how to respond.

“Not all of us were condemned by his hand,” she says hurriedly. “You, for example. But my uncle has a hard time finding good favor with others. His time as king has tainted him with a terrible arrogance.”

“He did seem kind of rude. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken.”

They keep walking. It’s awkward. Walter breaks the silence. “So, do you talk to him a lot?”

Wendy hums. “As often as I must. Despite everything, he is still family. And he has been earnestly attempting to better himself, which I believe we all appreciate.”

Abigail makes a sound like steam rising off a lake, and Wendy nods in agreement. “Abigail makes a good point. We know that he cares about us.”

It’s an offhand comment, but it sends a pang of jealousy through him. Wistfully and without thinking, Walter says, “It seems kind of nice. To have family with you.” It’s a more emotionally revealing statement than he wanted to make, and he’s a bit alarmed with himself for having said something like that. Wendy seems to take it in stride though, making a sort of sympathetic sound.

“It is difficult,” she says, “to be forced to face a cruel world without a caring presence beside you.” Walter gets the feeling she isn’t talking about Maxwell anymore. Abigail murmurs sadly, hovering over Wendy’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he agrees. Quickly glancing around to verify that they’re alone, he puts a hand over his mouth and steps closer to her. “Don’t tell anyone, but… I think I’m getting a bit homesick.”

Solemnly, Wendy nods. “I shan’t speak a word of it to anyone.”

According to the strange thermometer set up in the camp, winter is approaching, and Walter is sure starting to feel it. The forest has started going bare, the coating of leaves along the ground growing denser by the day. There’s a chill pervading the air, one that sends him shivering on early morning fishing trips and late-night firefly hunting. He, along with the other members of the camp, huddle closer to the fire at night.

Wendy’s been making hats from the silk and fur they have, decorating them with different patterns and toppers. She’s steady with a needle, and Walter watches her thread the fabrics together in awe as they sit together.

“Who’s that one for?” he points at the completed hat she has sitting atop the spool of silk beside her.

“It’s for Webber.” She lifts it into the air, showing off the ear flaps. “So his extra legs don’t get cold.”

“It’s pretty.” The hat has been colored orange and red with boiled eggshells and berry juice. It’s an impressive feat of craftsmanship, and he wonders if Wendy will teach him how to sew like that, too.

She turns it over. “Thank you. But I think I made it a bit too big.”

“Let me try,” Walter says, reaching for it. The hat is soft, and he takes a moment to admire the texture before going to put it on. Before he gets a chance, however, Wendy interrupts.

“That’s backwards.”

Walter stops, looking at the hat. “It is?” He turns it over. The other side looks exactly the same. “It’s kind of hard to tell,” he admits.

Wendy shrugs. An idea suddenly dawns on him.

“You know,” he starts, and Wendy must hear the mischief in his tone because she immediately frowns at him. “It would be kinda funny if he wore it backwards.”

Unconvinced, Wendy asks, “Would it?”

“Yeah! My older cousins once convinced me that you can wear a skirt like a shirt, and they thought it was pretty funny, so I guess it must be funny to wear clothes wrong.”

“Maybe.” She still sounds dubious.

Walter stands up, gesturing for Webber to join them. “Here, give it to him,” he whispers to Wendy, shoving the hat back into her hands as Webber approaches.

“What is it?” the boy asks, glancing back and forth from Walter to Wendy. His smaller eyes don’t quite synchronize with the movements of his larger ones, and Walter finds himself momentarily distracted by this. Luckily, Wendy takes charge, standing as well. She holds the hat out to him.

“Here. Try this on,” she says.

“Oh, you finished our hat!” Webber exclaims. He grins as he takes it, taking a moment just as Walter did to marvel at the softness, before placing it over his head. Wendy’s initial assessment that the hat was too big was immediately obvious, and coupled with having put it on the wrong way, the hat leaves Webber with just a bit of his furry head showing. The front lip falls all the way down past where his nose would be, and his mouth is just barely visible underneath, open in alarm.

“It covers our eyes!” Webber says loudly, as if to make up for his lack of sight.

Walter giggles, trying vainly to stifle it with a hand, and Wendy shushes him. “It’s the intended design, Webber. And you have to wear it because I made it for you.”

They both know Webber will be too polite to object to that. His mouth abruptly shuts, hiding his fangs, and Walter thinks he sees the boy swallow, as if steeling his nerves. His stance straightens, like he’s fully committing to spending the entire winter blinded. “We will wear it then!” he declares, turning and almost immediately running headfirst into the camp’s outer stone wall. With a startled cry, he backs up, and Walter just barely manages to grab hold of his shoulder before he trips and falls backwards.

“Thank you,” Webber says as he regains his balance. “This hat is scary!”

Wendy laughs. It escapes her like a puff of smoke, a small, flightless thing that could be mistaken as nothing more than a breath come too fast. But Walter can tell what it is, and he looks to her in surprise for a moment before a grin spreads across his face.

He thinks Webber can tell what it is too, because Walter sees him lift the hem of the hat, and even though he’s not very good at discerning spider expressions, to him, Webber looks incredibly pleased.

“That was amusing,” Wendy says after they’ve gotten the hat off Webber and tucked away in Wendy’s bag for further tailoring. “I will admit that despite your naivety, you have good ideas, Walter.”

It’s a bit of a backhanded compliment, but Walter doesn’t take it personally. “Thanks. You’re a lot better at holding it together when it comes to pranks, though.”

She nods. “That is true. Does that mean you would be opposed to orchestrating a second one?”

He grins. “Not at all.”

They get Webber to help with their next one. Willow’s used to him spending nights by the spider dens along the forest, so it’s not suspicious if he doesn’t show up by nightfall.

Woby whines, shaking her shaggy head as Webber gets close, and Walter does his best to hold onto her collar and keep her from bucking him away and scampering off. “It’s okay girl, he’s nice, trust me,” Walter soothes, petting her big floppy ears as Webber struggles to mount her.

He gets it eventually, holding on tight to the fur on the back of Woby’s neck, and Walter takes her head between his hands and speaks very sternly. “Be nice to Webber, and listen to him, okay? We’re doing a prank on Willow, and you’ve gotta be good for it.” Woby woofs, which doesn’t really sound like agreement, but she seems to quickly give in, licking his face affectionately when Walter pouts at her. He grins. “There’s a good girl.”

He rejoins Wendy by the outer camp wall, where she’d been watching.

“It is impressive how well you have tamed such a great beast,” she says.

He shrugs. “Woby’s not much of a beast. She’s scared of butterflies.”

“I see.”

Nightfall finds both of them back in camp with Willow, watching as she rummages through the fridge for something to put together into a half-decent meal. Wendy looks over to him and gives him a nudge, indicating that they should start.

“I have a story!” Walter announces loudly, planting himself cross-legged by the fire. That does enough to gather attention. Willow likes to pretend she isn’t all that interested in his stories, but oftentimes she’s the one sitting most on edge, her chin resting on her hands as she listens with wide eyes and held breath for him to finish.

Now is no exception. She lingers at the crockpot for a moment while Wendy joins him by the fire, although sky quickly abandons the meatballs she’d been preparing in favor of listening to the story. Walter clears his throat, glancing out beyond the walls. There’s a small gleam of light out there, a torch, where Webber and Woby are waiting for their cue.

“So there’s this monster out in the woods,” he begins, putting his hands up. He’d practiced for this one, no messing up or scrambling his words. It has to be good. He takes a breath to steady himself.

“They say it’s huge, almost three meters tall, with long shaggy fur that drags behind it, getting all dirty with mud and leaves, and long scary claws. The people who see it say it looks like a piece of the forest itself.” He thinks that was pretty good, but Willow doesn’t look impressed yet. He goes off script, amping it up. “A-And it’s super venomous too, with acid breath and big sharp teeth!” He claws his hands in front of his face, imitating fangs. “It goes around hunting people who wander too far into the woods. Sometimes, people’ll see lights shining through the trees without knowing that they’re just the monster’s shiny eyes.”

The fire pops, sparks flying as if to emphasize his words. Willow seems pretty enraptured now, head tilted slightly as her eyes flick between the flames and Walter’s gestures.

“What else?” Wendy prompts, just as they’d planned.

For the briefest moment, the script slips from his mind, and Walter stumbles. “Huh? Oh, yeah, so--” he clears his throat again. “It uh…”

“They say…” Wendy whispers.

“Right! They say it roams out there, stalking unsuspecting campers...” he turns and finds that speck of light with his eyes again, raising his voice for the final line. “...Waiting for a chance to strike!”

With a resonant howl, Woby leaps over the southern wall of the camp. Webber, with his hands wrapped around her neck, holds on for dear life. She doesn’t quite nail the landing, scrambling to slow down on the dirt and slamming sideways into the alchemy engine, nearly knocking it over.

Walter giddily looks to see Willow's expression, but quickly finds himself pushed backwards, scraping his knees in the dirt, with Wendy toppled over and looking equally confused beside him. He winces, assessing the rough scratches of grit on his skin. Once he’s confirmed he’s not bleeding, he glances forward.

There is a towering dark shape before him, backlit by the glow of the fire, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s Willow, her spear readied and sharp in her grasp. She’d shoved them behind her almost immediately, widening her stance and placing herself firmly between them and Woby.

Walter uprights himself, reaching out hesitantly for her sleeve. “Willow--”

Her head snaps down to him, and he flinches backwards. There’s nothing but ferocity and aggression in her eyes, although it slowly fades as she takes note of Woby skittering away from her spearpoint nervously, and Webber sliding clumsily off her back, landing with an ‘oof’.

After another few moments of taking in the scene, her stance drops. “Okay,” she says finally, sinking her spearpoint into the dirt and turning to glower at each of the children in turn. “I don’t know what you all were thinking, but that was really dumb. Like, actually really dumb.”

“It was my idea,” Wendy pipes up, brushing dirt off her skirt as she stands up. “I asked Walter--”

“No, you just said you wanted to do a prank,” he argues. It doesn’t feel fair for her to try and take blame. He faces Willow, hands folded behind his back. “It was my idea.”

“...We just thought it would be fun, Ms. Willow,” Webber says sheepishly, wringing his hands as he edges forward.

“Yeah? Well I could’ve stabbed you. Bet that would’ve been real fun,” she snaps.

Webber’s eyes start welling. Seeing this, Water steps forward. “I asked him to do it. It’s my fault.”

Her sharp gaze turns to him and Walter stiffens, looking down and feeling very much in trouble. Still, he can’t let his friends take the heat for him. He’s got honor, after all.

“I know you don’t know yet, but things bursting into our camp and attacking us isn’t really something we can joke about,” Willow lectures, her tone like an edge of broken glass. “Putting one of you in the position of some monster? That’s really, really dumb.”

Walter keeps examining his shoes, his hands tightening around each other behind his back. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Something in Willow seems to soften at that. She sighs, patting him on the shoulder. “Just. Don’t pull that sh-- stuff again.” She grimaces. “I have a headache. See you in the morning.” With that, she disappears into the tent.

Webber still looks on the verge of tears, and Walter murmurs an apology to him as well. Through it all, Wendy still looks nothing more than apathetic. She glances to the tent, then nods, as if to herself.

“To be fair,” she says. “Conceptually, it was very amusing.”

Walter sniffs, brightening at that. “Yeah?”

The tiniest of smiles graces her lips. “Yeah.”

#don't starve #dont starve #dont starve together #dst #dst walter #ds wendy #ds willow #dst fic #dont starve fic #my writing #reblogs and comments appreciated!#marine blogs #finally another chapter done!#ended up being longer than expected even w me scrapping an entire other scene

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superman86to99 · 4 years

Photo

Superman #83 (November 1993)

Funeral for a Friend: uh, that one Green Lantern supporting character who died when Coast City got blown up (Joe? Gary?). In this issue DC’s superheroes pay tribute to the tragedy of Coast City while also deciding what the hell to do with the giant engine that’s now in its place. Weird early ‘90s Hawkman! Dr. Fate with boobs! Already-slightly-psychotic Hal Jordan! EVERYONE IS HERE.

(Nice one, Guy.)

Meanwhile, Lex Luthor Jr. is also sneaking around Engine City, supposedly to prevent it from falling into the ocean and killing some of Aquaman’s friends, but in reality he just wants to look into the Cyborg Superman’s computer to see if he can find a recipe for making kryptonite. As the heroes argue about what to do with Engine City (Hal says drop it into the water, screw the fish), some leftover Warworld aliens start attacking them, like the holdout Japanese soldiers who never found out WWII was over.

The attack precipitates the city’s fall into the water and the heroes have to think fast to prevent a fish holocaust. Their solution is for all the Green Lantern-related characters (Hal Jordan, Guy Gardner, Alan Scott, Alan’s daughter Jade) to “detoxify” the debris with their powers before it falls into the ocean. And it works! These guys should totally open a carpet cleaning business.

As for Lex Jr., he does find the recipe for kryptonite inside the crumbling city, but just as he’s about to write it down (he wasn’t carrying any floppy disks, apparently), Supergirl yanks him out of there to prevent him from burning alive. What an unsupportive girlfriend. Anyway, Superman then takes some of the debris and builds a giant memorial for Coast City’s 6,999,999 anonymous lost souls, and Gary. Sweet Gary. You will be missed.

Creator-Watch:

If the art looks different that’s because this is the first issue inked by Joe Rubinstein, ending Brett Breeding’s classic two and a half year run as Dan Jurgens’ main inker (so classic that it feels a lot longer than that). Breeding will be back for Superman/Doomsday: Hunter/Prey and other stuff, though. As for Rubinstein, Don says: “At the time, I had trouble with the transition, being soused to Brett Breeding’s finishes over Jurgens’ pencils, but looking at it now, the art looks great. It doesn’t look as smooth or blocky as Breeding’s finishes, but Rubinstein’s hatchier style serves Jurgens pretty well, even if it takes some getting used to.”

Plotline-Watch:

At the start of the issue, Superman goes to pick up Batman to take him to Coast City, only to find him wearing a different costume, acting differently, and sounding like a different guy. That’s because that’s not really Bruce Wayne in the suit anymore, but the replacement he got after Bane broke his back. That’s right: freakin’ Psi-Phon and Dreadnaught.

Superman gives a speech about how superheroes must work together to prevent another tragedy like Coast City from happening, but when Guy asks him if that means he’s going back to the Justice League, he’s like “uh, not yet.” Wisely, he’s gonna wait for Grant Morrison to get there first.

Hal Jordan’s characterization in this issue is interesting. In Green Lantern #47 (which came out the same month), he’s bummed about Coast City but still hopeful and serene, while here he’s already going Parallax on us. Wonder if Dan Jurgens knew more about what DC was planning for Hal than the other comic’s writer.

There’s a cute scene where Superman is flying by Kansas on his way to Coast City and quickly drops some flowers for Ma Kent. (That, or Flash picked this moment to hit on a random older woman.)

Former TV exec/crime boss Morgan Edge has released an autobiography where he trashes the Daily Planet’s Cat Grant for using her sexiness (and, you know, sex) to get dirt on him and send him to jail. He also accuses Cat of being a crappy mother to her son Adam. He kind of has a point there, because what kind of mom would let her kid play with an Atari in the early ‘90s?! The SNES and the Genesis were already out!

Believe it or not, Morgan Edge’s pervy dad in that screenshot above isn’t the creepiest thing in that scene. Don: “Very spooky how the guy dangling outside of Cat’s apartment goes without mention. An ominous foreshadow of one of the very few missteps of Jurgens’ run.”

But the most ominous part of the issue is at the end, when Clark Kent accepts Jimmy Olsen’s offer to become roomies, since Clark lost his apartment on account of being dead and all. Don wants you to know that “Jimmy is still in that towel by the way” in the scene below. I hope.

Patreon-Watch:

Shout out to our patrons Aaron, Murray Qualie, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, and a warm welcome to Samuel Doran! Last month our patrons got to read an article about Superman’s bizarre first Elseworlds appearance ever, the Kamandi: At Earth’s End miniseries, and got a veeeeeery early look at this post you’re reading right now (since Don finished his part way before I did mine). Right now I’m preparing this month’s Patreon-only article, which involves Superman wearing pointy ears and Luthor wearing make up. Find out more at https://www.patreon.com/superman86to99

Oh, and in case you missed it, we’ve been posting Don’s new commentary for older issues on the Patreon as free posts (click above and scroll down to see them). EVEN MORE from Don after the jump!

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

Another classic issue, and such a nice wrap-up to the "Death and Return" storyline (as well as being a much-needed check-In on the DC Universe at large). We start with the cover, and it’s a very good one, letting the reader know right away that it’s a big team-up issue. (It also is a real showcase for 90s costume design, and how weird the JLA lineup was at this point).

The opening splash is a neat image of a rarely seen pairing, Superman and Commissioner Gordon. Jurgens draws James Gordon a little heavier and more Pa-Kent like than I’m used to seeing him, but it’s still neat to see him interacting with Superman. A page later, we get another rare pairing—the returned Superman with the imposter Batman, Jean-Paul Valley. The tension in the interaction between “AzBats” and Superman comes across well in their exchange, as does Superman’s doubts about who he was really speaking to.

It’s a dreamy looking Superman crossing the country from Metropolis to Coast City, and I daresay that they’re trying to channel Dean Cain a little as he approaches Kansas.

The best panel of the issue though is the two page spread of all the heroes gathering at the wreckage of Coast City, and there’s so much to love here. The body language, and facial expressions speak volumes about each of the characters: Superman looking swashbuckling and upbeat, Green Lantern brooding like a man barely holding on, Green Arrow all attitude and shadow. Just a great spread.

Another cool image is Aquaman showing up late, and emerging very royally in protection of his ocean (undercut masterfully by a legitimately funny couple of lines from Guy Gardner). Page 14’s Hal Jordan is a great drawing, and this whole storyline seems like a table setter for the "Emerald Twilight" story coming up.

The sequence of a firelit Luthor at the computer is a good look at his madness, but it does beg the question of just how little Supergirl seems to take in. He was JUST talking aloud about Kryptonite, and she emerges seeming not to hear. The image of Supergirl flying Lex away as he struggles against her psychic grab is a good one, even if her uniform is depicted as a little clingier than I imagine it to really be.

Superman floating above his obelisk with his arm in front of his face like Dracula is a cool look, even if it is a little dramatic.

Lastly, the image of Clark turning up the stereo is a good one, even if his hair length is wildly shorter here than in Coast City (and I usually dislike it when they mention real world bands, as it comes off trying too hard to be hip).

STRAY OBSERVATIONS:

I have to love how meta it is to have Superman outright saying that Batman is dressing more “threatening” these days, on page 2. I guess he couldn’t come right out and say “you have an extreme new look, and it’s totally badass! Batman the next generation!”

Last we saw of Supergirl she was storming out of the party on Lex’s Zeppelin after Lex II was getting all horned up at the sight of Lois Lane, but it appears here they’ve mostly patched things up as they fly to Coast City.

More meta-stuff: Jimmy clunkily complimenting Lois on her new hair by saying she “oughta be on TV or something!”. This whole exchange is very expository, really, “Clark must be pretty mad… though he’s busy worrying about where he’s going to bunk…” Anything else to get in there, Jimmy?

The harshness some of the heroes have for Lex Junior seems a little out of place, especially since he’s still known to most of the heroes as an ally from "Panic in the Sky", and the "Doomsday" storyline. Superman’s comment was borderline, but where is all this anger Flash is showing coming from?

Being as familiar as we are with these writers, there are certain phrases or ideas that a certain writer will go to way, way too often. Byrne had a number of stories where Superman would “ionize” something with his heat vision, and it occurred to me that maybe he just liked that word. I would submit that Dan Jurgens likes the word “atomize”. It was used by the Cyborg Superman when talking about Doomsday, and is used a bunch just in this issue.

I find it hilarious that Hawkman appears so prominently in this issue, but doesn’t get any lines. This issue is an interesting time capsule—I had almost forgotten about the de-aged Starheart powered Alan Scott era.

Speaking of lines, they don’t give Captain Marvel much to do in this issue, but I always like seeing him, even if his only contribution is the odd “Holy Moley!”

Colouring error on page 12, where Hal’s ring has a red centre (maybe the colourist had Alan Scott’s red and green look on the brain?)

A raging Hal standing by Green Arrow is a sad foreshadowing of their confrontation to come in Zero Hour.

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fancat-not-fangirl · 4 years

Text

It’s Not You Pt.7

They sat in silence for a bit, finishing their food.

Scared that if he’d look up he’d find Cas staring back at him with those big blue eyes, Dean kept his head down, pretending to look at the remaining pie on his plate. Only, once they were done, he didn’t have any more excuses not to look at Cas. So, steeling himself, Dean raised his head and immediately found Cas’s eyes, that glanced away the moment they met. Clearing his throat, Dean decided that the only way out of this steaming pile of shit was through.

“So. Cas.” The freshman’s head swiveled towards Dean, who desperately tried not to lose his nerve. “Sam tells me that you bring an extra sock everywhere you go, just in case you lose one from another pair.”

Cas blushed furiously (awwww) and started fiddling with the edges of his sleeve. There was a word, a name maybe, stitched into the underside of his sleeve, but Dean couldn’t make out what it said. He focused instead on Cas’s face. “My mom makes me bring an extra because she knows that whenever I go somewhere, I always lose one sock.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “Always?” A nod from Cas.

“Always always? As in, not once in your entire life have you gone on a trip somewhere and not lost a sock?”

Another nod. “Well then the Sock God up in Sock Heaven must really hate you, Cas.”

Dean loved the way the name rolled off his tongue. What he loved even more, though, was the small smile and laugh that Cas let out. Just for him. Now feeling incredibly pleased with himself, Dean bravely asked another question.

“And is it true that you have a vinyl record signed by the one and only Bruno Mars?” At this, Cas got this adorable proud look on this face and he nodded.

“I went to one of his concerts for my sixteenth birthday and my mom got us backstage passes. That’s where I got him to sign it.” He then added quietly, “I’ve kinda been obsessed with him since I was little.”

“Did you bring it with you?”

Looking a little surprised, Cas nodded. Taking a deep breath and shyly looking down, he asked, “Do you want to see?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Dean said, “I’d like that.”

***

Back in the dorm room, which looked like it came straight from a magazine because it was so clean, Cas walked over to his bed and the record hanging above his pillow. Taking it off of the wall like it was the Mona Lisa, he gingerly cradled it in his arms and walked over to Dean.

“Be careful.” He whispered as he offered it into Dean’s outstretched hands. Nodding, Dean held the vinyl record with the scribbled ‘Bruno Mars’ in the center. It was heavier than he expected. Heavier and a lot more rough. Examining it for a few seconds, he then silently handed it back to Cas, who looked thoroughly relieved that it was finally back in his care. Even then, the cute look of worry never truly left the freshman’s face until he record was safely hanging back on the wall. Oh but how adorable he looked when he was worried. His forehead scrunched up, and his nose twitched, and he shifted from foot to foot, and Dean decided that he should probably stop mooning over Cas and say something.

“I know how to play some of his songs on the guitar.” Cas obviously wasn’t expecting Dean to start talking, and he jumped a little at the sound of his voice. Dean fought back a smile and continued. “I’ve been playing the guitar for a while now, since Sammy was little.” He sat down on Sam’s bed, wincing a bit at how far down he sank into the mattress.

“Did he ever tell you that the only way he would be able to fall asleep when he was a kid was if I sang to him?”

Cas shook his head with a small smile and in turn sat down across from Dean on his own mattress.

“Well, it’s true. And one day there was this guitar up for grabs outside this house that was for sale, and I decided ‘What the hell, I sing to him anyway. Might as well learn to play the guitar while I’m at it’, and snatched that wooden piece of junk from the driveway.” Smiling at the memory, Dean shrugged. “It’s still the same guitar I play now. She’s never let me down.”

He heard Cas stifle a laugh. “She?”

“Yeah. She. If my car is Baby, then my guitar is Baby 2.0.”

The giggle that left Cas’s mouth made the entire room brighter. Dean suddenly made it his life’s mission to make this freshman smile and laugh as much as physically possible. Starting now.

“Hey, did Sammy ever tell you about the time that he got invited to this chick’s middle school Halloween party? And he thought that she was oh so pretty and got so nervous, that when he went to go bob for apples and show her how ‘much of a man he was’, he threw up all over her?”

Cas stared at him for a second before bursting into laughter. Dean couldn’t have been happier. Making a split second decision, he got up and moved across the room to sit down next to Cas on his bed. Cas looked a little shocked at first, but then Dean launched into another story that had Cas almost rolling on the floor with laughter, making Dean the luckiest man alive.

“What about you?”

Cas looked up, still smiling but now a bit confused. “What about me?”

“Has my little brother done anything stupid around you?”

A slow smile spread across Cas’s face and he started telling Dean about the time that the boys had accidentally left their window open and a bird had flown in. Sam had apparently tried to shoo it out, but it had pecked him in the face, causing him to run out and come back a few minutes later with a broom, then proceeding to chase the bird around the dorm room. At one point in the story, Cas had stood up and pointed to a small indent in the wall, explaining how Sam had swung the broom towards the bird but missed, instead hitting the wall. Demonstrating Sam’s furious running back and forth, Cas had Dean almost in tears by the end, and he collapsed onto the rug in the middle of the room and panted, trying to catch his breath. His dark hair was spread around his head like a halo, and Dean had the fleeting thought that Cas looked like an angel. A beautiful, insanely adorable, funny as hell angel.

Dean gasped out through laughs, “What kind of bird was it?”

“A pigeon.” Then Cas’s eyes went comically wide as he lowered his voice to a whisper and brought his face so close to Dean’s that their foreheads almost touched.

“It pooped on his head.”

Both boys dissolve into another fit of hysterics. Dean was soon joining Cas on the floor, both of them rolling around, cracking up. Dean couldn’t understand it. How happy he was, laughing his heart out with this freshman. God damn it, he was Dean Fucking Winchester. He wore leather jackets and had a cool car and could beat you up if you looked at him the wrong way. Yet here he was, with a boy that made his face light up and his stomach hurt and his heart almost burst out of his chest. Cas had somehow managed to throw everything Dean Winchester stood for out the window, and now he found himself giggling like a five year old at the faces Cas was making. And Dean didn’t want it to end.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, Dean choked out, “Do you have pictures?”

Cas nodded fervently and hauled himself up into a sitting position on the floor, sweater sleeve hiking up on his arm as he reached for his phone that was lying on his desk.

Dean froze.

Before he could think about what he was doing, he was tackling Cas and wrapping his arms around the now very very confused looking freshman. The one that was so cute and adorable and whose smile lit up Dean’s entire world. The one whose laugh was like listening to the prettiest music on Earth. The one whose eyes were like staring into the summer sky and whose hair looked like a halo around his head.

The one that had the word Winchester imprinted on his wrist, and whose last name, Novak, was stitched into the underside of his sleeve.

The one that didn’t pull back when Dean pressed their lips together, instead letting out a small sound that made Dean glow from the inside, and returned the kiss. It was perfect. Dean had kissed people before. He had kissed girls, he had kissed boys, but nothing could have prepared him for this kiss. This kiss was an explosion of color. Fireworks, even.

Dean finally, finally, raised his hand and ran it through Cas’s hair. Hair that felt like silk under his fingers. Dean firmly decided that this had been worth the wait.

Cas moaned into the kiss, and arched his body up into Dean, who wrapped his arms tighter around the small, cute creature who he could now finally call his. Dean could do this forever, he decided. Cas’s mouth was perfect and sweet and everything Dean could have asked for.

“CAS, I’M NOT YOUR SOULMATE!”

Dean and Cas didn’t even have time to break apart before the door was bursting open and Sam was careening into the room, announcing the phrase loud enough that people five doors down could hear. He was followed by Gabe, who froze alongside Sam at the sight of Cas on the floor, Dean sprawled on top of him.

“What the shit-”

“I can explain-”

“The hell are you doing, barging in like that-”

“You’re finally getting laid little bro-”

They all spoke at once, drowning each other out. Sam and Cas were both red in the face, one of them apologizing and the other staring at Dean in disbelief. Gabe, meanwhile, was obviously trying to contain his laughter, and Dean was clearly mad that his brother had interrupted them.

“Can someone please explain what’s going on?” This came from Sam, who looked incredibly confused at the scene in front of him.

Dean smiled and started rolling up his sleeve. He then unclasped his watch, which he only ever took off at night, so that Sam could never see his soulmate’s name. After realizing as a little kid that he and his brother shared the same imprint on their wrists, he refrained from sharing his soulmate’s name with his brother, afraid of the drama it would cause in the family. Instead, he kept his watch on him at all times of the day, but it finally came off now.

Sam inhaled sharply as he saw the clear, black ‘Novak’ inscripted on his brother’s wrist. Cas gasped, too, and his wide eyes met Dean’s, who didn’t look away this time.

“So what y’all are telling me,” Gabe spoke up now, still trying his best not to laugh. “Is that I’m going to be fucking your brother, and you’re going to be fucking my brother? We’re one big brother fucking family now or what?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Try selling that shit to Disney.”

And then they were all shrieking with laughter, doubling over and gasping for breath until their sides hurt. Cas and Dean were yet again rolling on the floor, but this time they were grabbing at each other’s hands and shirts instead of keeping to themselves. Gabe had collapsed onto Sam’s bed, giggling into the pillows. Sam was bent over, trying to steady himself by grabbing onto Cas’s chair, which promptly tipped over, sending him tumbling to the ground. That didn’t help matters whatsoever, and it was a solid ten minutes later that they finally got themselves under control and could say anything without the group launching back in a frenzy of chuckles and cackles.

Regaining their breath, Cas and Dean sat up and leaned their backs against Cas’s bed, Cas putting his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“So how did you figure it out?” Dean asked his brother, who hadn’t bothered getting up from the ground and remained sprawled across the floor.

Sam blushed and opened his mouth to answer, but Gabe talked over him, winking at his soulmate. “Oh buddy, you don’t want to know.”

Anything that was enough to make Sam blush was a must-know in Dean Winchester’s book.

He leaned forward.

“Tell me everything.”

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #castiel novak #gabriel novak #destiel #sabriel #college au #soulmate au #destiel fic #it's not you

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 5 years

Text

Lost Boy (Chapter 8: Selfishness & Selflessness)

Summary: When his family moves from San Francisco to the town of Shadyside, T.J. thought his life would change. And it did. He just didn’t think it would come in the form of the ghost of a boy who haunted his new bedroom.

Prologue

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7)

@delicatesleeper,@ibroughtachallah,@frenchtohste,@alittletooliteralleah,@tyrusmagocious,@tjskipping, @mirrorslover, @opatrickr, @lesbianrelateddeath, @justkimberley,@burning-hot-pan,@green-lemonboys,@anotherangelfromspace,@thebisexualweirdo,@likelightning-inabottle,@thedampjofangirl, @fizasdr, @awkward-bisexual-alien, @whipashwhipash, @abg-blah,@atthemomentimintothis,@emberofthefrost, @sana-drinks-isklar, @tyrusisobviouslyendgame, @delilahdee00, @lazymarvelfan, @glitch-ditch-canonbitch, @miracufan

………

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of depression, self-harm, and suicide

...........

“Will you listen to my side this time?”

“Yes.”

Cyrus smiled in appreciation before leaning back against the headboard and staring at the ceiling. He was silent for a few moments.

Even though he was overly curious and desperate to know everything, T.J. held himself back from asking questions. Subtly, he pressed his shoulder against the ghost’s, shivering when he felt the cold but still wanting to be close.

“A lot did happen that time,” Cyrus began, his tone wistful. “I figured out I was gay.”

T.J. bit his lip.

Cyrus took a deep breath. “I… realized that I liked Jonah.” He chuckled. “I’m a walking cliché, aren’t I? First ever guy friend and I ended up crushing on him. And what more was that I had a crush on my best friend’s crush… who ended up liking her back… and they kind of sort of dated or whatever their relationship was.”

T.J.’s chest clenched a bit as Cyrus looked at him.

“I didn’t mind that Jonah liked Andi,” he continued. “I was perfectly content just being his friend and crushing on him in secret. What else was I supposed to do? He and Andi already had their thing going on before I even came out to her.”

Now, T.J. could not stop himself from talking. “Was that why you…?”

Cyrus bit his lip. “It was probably a contributing factor,” he admitted. “But, no, it wasn’t completely because Jonah didn’t like me back. I mean, I…” He took a deep breath. “I literally just figured out I was gay and I was scared. So scared. I didn’t know what to do and I had just gotten a girlfriend and she was so nice but I felt so guilty being with her that I had to break up with her.”

T.J. didn’t know Cyrus that Cyrus had a girlfriend before. It wasn’t too far-fetched – the boy was handsome and sweet and kind to boot. Who wouldn’t like him? He wondered if the girl knew what happened and if she knew the truth.

“Buffy was the first person I came out to and she told me everything was going to be okay. I tried to believe her. But… I just…”

T.J. pressed closer. “You don’t know if it would actually be okay,” he finished for him, recalling his own turmoil when he was figuring things out about himself. “It’s like… one day, you feel like you can take over the world with your truth. But, the next day, you’re in a panic and wondering if people would figure it out and hate you. Especially the people you love.”

Cyrus stared at him and the blonde looked down, sheepishly.

“Sorry, I know I said I’ll listen to your side now but I just… remembered that that was how it was with me.”

The ghost chuckled. “It’s okay. You’re completely right. That was what happened with me, too. I was constantly scared about my family finding out. I knew they loved me but… did they love me enough to accept me?”

He bit his lip. “When I came out to Andi, I thought things would be better. And, they were, in a way. We had this secret understanding when it came to Jonah and she knew she could always talk to me. Sometimes, a little too much.”

He chuckled again but it was devoid of humor. “She kissed him in front of me, you know. Right in front of me. I’m sure Andi didn’t mean to. She was caught up in the moment. I mean, who wouldn’t be? The guy wrote her a love song! And I was okay with it… I really was… They were happy… so… happy.”

“I unloaded a lot on Cyrus and he just let me. That was the type of person he was.”

T.J. held a gasp in, his own chest clenching.

Andi and Jonah had kissed right in front of Cyrus. That explained the deep guilt he saw earlier in Andi’s eyes as she spoke about Cyrus. She had hurt Cyrus but didn’t realize it until it was too late.

Meanwhile, Cyrus continued talking, as if he didn’t just reveal his deepest and most intimate heartache to T.J.

“I don’t know when exactly it started happening. Maybe around the time Buffy moved? I was suddenly always so upset… and sad… and angry… I couldn’t eat or sleep and everything felt like a chore. And my anxiety attacks started happening more frequently. My mom… she figured it out. She had me see someone, someone who wasn’t my stepmother. I never told the girls or Jonah, I didn’t want to worry them. I put on a face for them and I guess I was a better actor than I thought because they never suspected anything was wrong. It helped that they were preoccupied. Andi was helping her parents plan their wedding. Buffy was working on the new girls’ basketball team. And Jonah was busy with his music and dating this new girl after he and Andi broke up. They pretty much left me to do my own thing.”

He breathed out, leaning back against the headboard. “I wanted to come out to my Bubbe Rose. Out of all my family, aside from my parents, she was the one person I knew I could always count on. And if I came out to her, I knew she would still love me and maybe, I’d have some support. Maybe I would finally have the guts to tell my parents. But before… before I could do that…” His hands shook as he brushed invisible tears from his cheek. “She died. She was sick but she didn’t tell anyone how bad it was. And I was so mad at myself for not noticing… for being too late.”

“I’m sorry, Cyrus,” T.J. whispered, placing a hand over his and squeezing gently.

The boy shook his head. “I had many regrets. But, no use dwelling on those now. And I’m sure Bubbe Rose wouldn’t want me to. Hey, I’ll probably see her soon once we figure out this whole unfinished business thing. And I can tell her.”

T.J.’s throat was dry all of a sudden. “Cyrus… how did you…?”

The ghost finally looked at him. “How did I die?”

Wordlessly, T.J. nodded.

Cyrus’ lip quivered as he visibly trembled. “I didn’t mean to,” he said, softly. “It was an accident.”

“You said that,” T.J. replied, gently. “But… how? Andi said you took… pills?”

Cyrus swallowed. “Yeah. I had trouble sleeping so I started taking them. It wasn’t a huge dose, just enough to get me through the night so I could still wake up on time for school the next day. But, after Bubbe Rose died, my insomnia just kept getting worse. I kept waking up before morning and couldn’t fall back asleep. So, one night, after waking up again, I decided to take some more. I wasn’t supposed to but I didn’t really think about the consequences. I just wanted to sleep and dream and stop the pain of everything.”

His brow furrowed. “I remember feeling awful… dizzy… and so much pain… I wanted to throw up… I might have… Then, I passed out. And… next thing I knew… I was standing next to my body at the hospital. My parents were crying and they couldn’t see or hear me. The doctor told them they managed to get most of the drugs out of my body but the damage had taken place. I was brain dead. And it would take a miracle for me to wake up. The only reason I was still breathing was because of the life support machine. Otherwise… I’m dead.”

He turned to T.J. now, sad eyes meeting his gaze. “I didn’t want that to happen. Please believe me.”

“I believe you,” T.J. said, immediately. “And that’s why I want to help you wake up.”

Cyrus groaned. “T.J., please.”

“Why are you so against this? Don’t you want to come back?”

“You don’t think I’ve tried? I’ve tried! Several times that I’ve lost count!”

The items on T.J.’s desk began to shake due to Cyrus’ seething fury. T.J. needed to calm him down before anything broke but he was stuck frozen in his position.

“I did what ghosts did in movies and tried to fuse with my body but it just pushed me out. Even now, with this whole unfinished business thing. Clearly, getting Andi and Buffy to be friends again wasn’t it. I’m still here! Nothing’s working, T.J.! I’m stuck like this! I’m dead and I’ve accepted it! Why can’t you?!”

“Because I don’t want to lose you! Okay?!”

The shaking stopped and all was still again.

Cyrus was looked thunderstruck, mouth slightly open in surprise.

T.J. blushed as he quickly added, “You’re my friend, Cyrus. I just want you to be alive and okay and… here. I don’t want to lose you.”

Finally, for the first time all night, Cyrus smiled. Really smiled. In that warm way that lit up his face and made his brown eyes sparkle.

“Thank you,” he said, softly. “I don’t think there’s any hope for me. But, it’s nice to know that someone else does.”

Realizing he was still holding the brunette’s hand, T.J. gently gave it a squeeze. “I won’t give up. I’ll find a way.”

Cyrus continued to smile. “Okay,” he agreed but T.J. knew he was simply agreeing so they wouldn’t talk about it anymore.

He had that resolved look on his face, one that said he didn’t want to argue further.

And T.J. didn’t want to fight with him either. Now that he heard Cyrus’ side of the story, now that he knew Cyrus never wanted to die, it made him even more determined to try and save him.

No, not try.

He would save him. Even if Cyrus didn’t want him to, he would.

“You should go to bed.” The boy squeezed his hand. “You had a long day, right? And I woke you up. Go to sleep.”

Now that he mentioned it, the fatigue began to settle and take over him. His eyes suddenly felt heavier, his body weakening. Yet, T.J. held Cyrus’ hand even tighter.

“Stay?” he asked, hoping that he didn’t sound too clingy.

He just didn’t want Cyrus to disappear.

The ghost chuckled and nodded. “I’ll be here. Go to sleep.”

T.J. felt himself lowering back against his pillows. He wasn’t sure if it was his own movement or if Cyrus was working some ghostly powers on him, but nonetheless, the soft mattress felt heavenly to his tired body.

“Don’t leave, okay?” he said, as his eyes closed and his vision plunged in darkness.

He wished he could hold him. But, he would settle for their linked hands.

“I won’t,” Cyrus’ soothing voice promised.

And with that, T.J. drifted off to sleep.

…….......

When T.J. woke up the next morning, it was to a soft humming. Forcing his eyes open and flinching a little when the sun hit his gaze, he managed to spot Cyrus’ shimmery form sitting by the window, flipping through one of T.J.’s gaming magazines.

T.J. allowed himself a moment to just watch him, wondering how he was doing after everything that happened the day before. From his vantage point, Cyrus looked perfectly normal. Content, even, as his eyes roamed the pages of the magazine and hummed a random little song under his breath.

But, then again, after everything T.J. learned, he wondered if the ghost was just putting on another façade so he wouldn’t worry T.J.

Cyrus looked up and met T.J.’s eyes. He beamed. “Good morning, Sixth Sense.”

Oh, so they were back to nicknames.

T.J. slowly sat up then stretched, feeling his muscles crack. “Morning, Ghost Boy.” He flashed a smile. “How are you feeling?”

A brow raised. “I should be asking you that question. Still have the urge to save my soul from heading towards the light?”

He said it in a joking tone but T.J. was stone-cold serious when he replied, “Yeah.”

Cyrus’ smile faltered a little. Sighing, he put the magazine away. “I meant what I said last night, T.J. I’ve accepted my fate. So should you.”

“I can’t promise you that,” he replied, honestly. “I’m sorry, but you’re my friend and I want to help you. If there’s anything I can do, I will.”

The other boy sighed again. “You’re so stubborn,” he huffed.

T.J. only shrugged as he got out of bed and stretched again. The carpet tickled his toes and he wiggled them against the fabric. Outside, the sky was clear and the clouds were out. It was still early in the morning.

“Do you want to go out?” he asked the ghost.

Cyrus’ eyes widened. “G-Go out?”

“Yeah. Like on a walk. I could use the exercise. Wanna come with me?”

“Oh! A walk! Right!” Cyrus nervously laughed as he got to his feet. “Sure, that sounds great.”

“Great!” T.J. walked over to his closet to grab a hoodie. “Meet you out front?”

Cyrus nodded before disappearing from sight.

After changing into the hoodie and basketball shorts and putting on a pair of old sneakers, T.J. grabbed his phone and headphones and made his way down to the kitchen. His mother was already there, toast and a glass of orange juice in front of her as she perused the morning paper.

She looked up when T.J. entered. “Good morning, honey. Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna go for a quick walk.”

It wasn’t unusual for him to wake up early on weekends and go for a walk or a jog so she didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“Be careful.”

Nodding, T.J. lifted his hood over his head as he walked to the door.

Cyrus was already there, examining the row of flowers by the fence. He once told T.J. that they were his stepmother’s doing to help her patients relax and brighten the atmosphere surrounding the house.

They made eye contact and T.J. nodded, sticking the headphones in his ears but not turning his music on. The ghost fell into step beside him.

“So… park?” T.J. asked.

Cyrus hummed in agreement. “I like the park.” He looked at T.J. “What’s with the headphones?”

“So I can talk to you without people thinking I’m talking to myself. I can pretend I’m on the phone with someone. It’s very effective, I used to do it a lot back in San Francisco.”

“Do you miss it? San Francisco?”

T.J. shrugged. “Sometimes. I mean, that’s where I grew up and it was my home for a while. But, all the ghosts there know who I am. I could never get a moment of peace. At least, here, you’re the only ghost who does.”

“That makes me feel special.”

T.J. braved a wink at him. “You are.”

Looking embarrassed, Cyrus turned away.

They walked the rest of the way to the park in silence. It was the first time they hung out that wasn’t in T.J.’s room or the living room when his mom and sister weren’t home. Under the rays of the sun, Cyrus was almost transparent, but if T.J. moved his hand just a bit closer to his form, he could still touch him. He resisted the urge to hold his hand. (He was already embarrassed about his clingy behavior last night.)

A few ghosts were out and about and T.J. made sure his gaze was straight as he ignored them. Cyrus waved to a few who waved back. Some asked who T.J. was and Cyrus cheerily responded that he was haunting him.

“I thought you didn’t talk to the others,” T.J. said under his breath.

“I say ‘hi’ now and then but I never stop to have conversations. Learned that lesson the first time. He was an old man who fell off a ladder during a bad storm back in the 60’s. He’s still bitter about his death and I barely escaped his ramblings. He haunts one of the hospital rooms on the same floor where my body is.”

T.J. hummed. “Ghosts are chatty.”

“Am I chatty?”

“Hell, yes.”

“Hey!”

T.J. only chuckled in response.

They finally reached the entrance to the park.

“Mind if I jog?” T.J. asked, turning on his music now.

Cyrus nodded. “I’ll follow you.”

“Thanks.”

After a few stretches and mapping out a route in his head, T.J. took off. The early morning air felt good and he breathed it all in, his body relaxing. Eminem was pumping in his ears, urging him on. From the corner of his eye, he could see Cyrus floating along next to him.

Based on Andi and Buffy’s stories, he knew Cyrus wasn’t athletic. In fact, he was told that the boy was quite clumsy. T.J. couldn’t really tell because as a ghost, Cyrus could simply float along, gliding rather than walking. So, even if he was barely moving next to T.J., he could still keep up with his jog.

He jogged for a while, following a path through the park. There were barely any people yet so it was nice and peaceful. By the time he made it to the playground, he was sweating and his lungs were burning, but the exercise felt good.

“Oh, the swings!”

T.J. smiled in amusement as Cyrus bounded over to the swing set and settled in.

“They’re my favorite,” he explained when T.J. flashed him a questioning look.

The blonde chuckled and headed for the swing next to the ghost. It had been a while since he last played on a swing set. There was a park he and Amber used to frequent back in San Francisco but there were always too many people there. The swings were popular so he rarely had a chance to have a turn.

“So… you came here often?” he asked, internally wincing at how much it sounded like a cliché pick-up line.

“Only when I was feeling bad about myself,” Cyrus replied as he began to swing. “So… fairly often, yeah.”

T.J. chuckled and mimicked him. “Did it help?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

T.J. wondered if he came here a lot before his accidental overdose. Did he have someone else to swing with? Maybe Andi? Buffy? Jonah? Anyone so he wasn’t lonely.

They swung in silence for a while.

If anyone were to walk by, they’d see T.J. on the swings but would probably freak out at the empty swing moving next to him. At the moment, though, he didn’t really care. Cyrus looked happy and T.J. didn’t want to ruin it for him.

A few ways away, by a large tree, a lone girl in a poofy dress played alone. She ran around the tree, hid behind it then jumped out, and ran around the tree again. And again. Over and over.

“What’s her story?” he asked Cyrus. “Do you know?”

Cyrus’ swinging slowed. “Her name is Victoria. Seven years old. I think she was playing here when she was killed. Not sure how, exactly. But…the others say it was brutal.”

Cyrus pulled his gaze away from the girl but didn’t resume swinging.

T.J. finally spotted the splotches of red on the girl’s skirt and also looked away. His heart ached, wondering how he could help her. But, then, he had to remember that he was done fraternizing with ghosts. The only ghost he wanted to help right then was Cyrus. Call him selfish because he was, but he didn’t want any distractions from his goal.

“Do you want to help her?” Cyrus asked, softly.

T.J. shook his head.

“But you’re determined to help me.”

“You’re different,” he replied, honestly.

“What makes me different?”

“You just… are.”

Cyrus hummed.

Worry filled T.J. all of a sudden. What if Cyrus saw him differently now? What if he thought he was selfish and wanted nothing to do with him anymore? What if he thought T.J. was an awful person?

“It must be hard… being able to see ghosts and wishing you can help but you just can’t. I don’t know how you do it, Teej. You’re amazing.”

T.J.’s head turned so hard that he felt his neck almost snap, eyes wide in surprise.

“W-What?” he blurted out.

Cyrus smiled at him. “I think you’re amazing. Being able to handle all the responsibility of your ability from a young age. And, even now, you’re helping me.” He looked towards Victoria again, who was still playing by herself. “Even if you can’t help Victoria, I can see that you want to. But, I get it. You can’t help everyone.” He turned back to look at T.J. “But, you’re helping me and I appreciate it a lot. Thank you.”

T.J.’s mouth opened and closed. He bit his lip. “Don’t you think I’m selfish, though? I want to help only you and no one else.”

Cyrus furrowed his brows. “You spent the last couple of years of your life helping ghosts in San Francisco. You got in trouble a lot just by helping them. And you protected your mom and Amber. That’s not selfish to me. And, if there’s anything I learned from my 3 psychologist and 1 life coach parents is that there are times when it’s okay to be selfish about our wants and needs. Sometimes, I…” He took a deep breath and stared at the ground. “Sometimes, I wish I had done that more when I was still alive.”

T.J.’s breath hitched.

He didn’t know what to say. Cyrus’ selflessness knew no bounds and he didn’t know how to react to it.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, instead.

Cyrus lifted his head to look at him. “Sure.”

“When you get back to your body-.”

“T.J., please-.”

“No, no, just… humor me. Please?”

Cyrus sighed. “Fine.”

T.J. cleared his throat. “When you get back to your body, what’s the first thing you want to do?”

“Oh.” Cyrus pursed his lips, his brow furrowing as he thought deeply. “I guess… hug everyone.”

“Including me?” T.J. teased.

“Of course,” Cyrus chuckled.

“And what’s the second thing you want to do?”

“T.J., what is this?”

“I’m genuinely curious. Come on. Humor me.”

Cyrus rolled his eyes but nonetheless, tilted his head to the side in thought.

T.J. waited, patiently for his answer.

Finally, Cyrus seemed to have come to an answer. “Go to The Spoon and have some baby taters and a milkshake.”

Of course. At that, T.J. smiled. “That sounds amazing. Then, we’ll do that when you wake up, okay? After you hug me, of course.”

Cyrus made some sort of choking sound, looking at T.J. like he had three heads.

“Wait. What?”

T.J. shrugged. “I said what I said.”

The brunette huffed. Steeling his gaze as he met the blonde’s eyes, he asked, “Why are you so determined to wake me up from my coma?”

The question caught T.J. off-guard. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks. “I… I told you already. You’re my friend and I…”

Cyrus perked up in interest. “You…?”

“I…” T.J. swallowed. “I care about you.”

The ghost smiled. “Thank you. I care about you, too. That’s why I don’t want you to hope too much about getting me back because it just might not happen.”

“You can be too negative, sometimes, you know that?”

“It’s how I’ve always approached the world. Less disappointments, that way.”

With a sigh, T.J. stood up. “Well, I’ll be the positive one for the both of us then.”

“Teej-.”

“Let’s go home.” T.J. smiled at him. “I can feel my stomach yelling at me ‘cause I didn’t eat breakfast before jogging.”

Although he still looked ready to argue, Cyrus clamped his mouth shut and silently stood up. They both took one last look at Victoria – the ghost was still playing her solitary game – before making their way out of the park and on their way home.

As soon as they reached the front door, Cyrus flashed him a sweet smile.

“I’ll be out all day. Don’t wait up for me, okay?”

Without letting T.J. respond, he disappeared.

#andi mack #tyrus #tyrus lost boy

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mischiefandspirits · 5 years

Text

You Are NOT the Father

Tony gets a surprising revelation when he walks in on Young Avengers hijinks.

This doesn't follow Endgame, but there are a few minor things taken from it so fair warning.

“Hey, have you guys seen Spider-kid anywhere?” Tony asked as he and Pepper walked up behind Sam, Barnes, and Natasha, the latter of whom smirked and pointed forwards.

Tony turned, only to feel his jaw drop at the sight before him.

The kid he’d just been asking after was currently lying back on a weight bench holding the bar aloft. This wouldn’t be too alarming, except the bar Peter was holding was not only playing perch to Shuri, Loki, and Lila (the first two girls sitting on either side with the last balancing on the center), but was also being loaded down by weights Tony knew were specifically designed for the likes of Hulk, Thor, and Steve because he was the one who designed them.

Steve and an armored Rhodey were the ones doing the loading while Thor stood by Peter’s head like an over-enthusiastic spotter. Behind them, Harley appeared to be recording the whole thing from atop a beanbag chair while Strange meditated midair next to him. Cassie was leaning against Dog on Harley’s other side, eating popcorn and tossing pieces of jerky to the giant ant while Groot laid next to her playing a video game.

“What is going on here?”

Peter lifted his head just long enough to give the man a smile before refocusing on his task. “Hey Mr. Stark, can’t talk now.”

Tony turned to Natasha for an explanation, but Strange spoke up before he could.

“They are testing to see how much weight he can handle.” He opened an eye. “For the record, I don’t approve. I am only here in case medical aid is needed.” He closed his eye.

“Also for the record, we just got here,” Sam added, giving Tony a nervous look and gesturing towards himself, Barnes, and Natasha.

“And what’s your excuse, Capsicle, Point Break, Rhodey?”

Steve shrugged and carefully added another weight to the bar in time with Rhodey. “The kids were going to do it either way. I figured it was better they had someone to supervise. Besides, it is good to know your limits.”

Barnes snorted.

“I was also made aware that it is better to have someone to help manage the weight, which none of the young ones can do,” Thor added.

Loki sent him a look. “I could handle it.”

Thor gave her a smile. “I’m sorry, sister. You just look so small in your new form that I misspoke.”

The reborn goddess scowled then suddenly transformed into a man taller than Thor and as hulking as, well, the Hulk. “If I wished to appear a brute like you, I would,” he said in a gruff voice.

“Woah, Loki!” Peter yelped as the bar tilted with the unexpected extra weight and Lila stumbled, just managing to catch herself before she fell.

Shuri, meanwhile, looked unaffected, if a bit amused.

“Apologies,” Loki said, returning to normal, though the teen remained male.

Unfortunately, this merely had the opposite effect as Peter’s compensation for Loki’s added weight that no longer existed sent the bar careening the other way. Lila did fall off this time, thankfully into Thor’s waiting arms, while Shuri slid off the bar and onto her feet.

Loki was tossed onto Peter, who huffed at the impact and barely managed to keep ahold of the bar.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for today,” Tony snapped and Steve and Rhodey immediately moved to take the bar from Peter.

The kid grudgingly handed it over to the “Boo!”s of Harley and Cassie and the jeering “I am Groot!”s of said talking plant.

Loki pulled himself off the older boy, dusting himself off and giving Thor an annoyed look. “This is all your fault.”

Peter jabbed him in the side with his toes, saying breathlessly, “You’re the one who shapeshifted while sitting on the bar!” He then rolled off the bar before Loki could retaliate, coming to stand next to Shuri.

“Alright new rule, Young Avengers, no playing around with the heavy weights,” Tony said, crossing his arms.

Loki, as per usual for learning about any new rules being placed against him, looked affronted while Peter just pouted at his mentor. The three off to the side looked unaffected, Groot already having returned to his game and Cassie and Harley shrugging it off.

Lila, who was now sitting on Thor’s shoulder, crossed her arms back at him. “How are we supposed to test Buggy’s strength if we can’t use the good weights?”

“Buggy?” Peter muttered and Harley snorted.

“Now you know why I turned down Ant-Girl,” Cassie chuckled.

Loki tapped his chin, “He could lift up a car, then we could just put heavier and heavier things in or on it until either the car gives in or he does.”

“No. No, no, no. No more ideas from you, Orpheus,” Tony cut in. “I will come up with something. Something that won’t end in him being squashed by a car.”

“I would have spotted for him,” Loki tutted with an eye roll.

“Come now, the young ones are just having fun,” Thor said, coming over to slap Peter’s back. Lila, still on his shoulder, laughed as the boy stumbled. “And your son has proved he has the strength to stand with the mightiest of heroes. You should be proud.”

Tony opened his mouth to say he would be prouder if the kid would stop pulling stupid stunts before Thor’s words truly caught up with him. “My what now?”

“Your son,” Thor said, frowning. “Peter.”

“He’s not my… You thought the kid was… I don’t have a son!” Tony sputtered and darn it he could hear Pepper giggling behind him.

“He’s not yours?” Thor said deflating.

“No! Why would you think that?”

“Well, you know, the… technology…”

“Wait, Spidey’s not yours? Like seriously?” Sam asked and Tony turned to see him and Barnes giving him unconvinced looks.

“He’s seventeen! Pep and I’ve only been married for -”

“All due respect,” Strange cut in, dropping to the ground. “But I doubt anyone thought he was Mrs. Potts’. Just yours.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Tony asked, narrowing his eyes at the sorcerer.

“Considering your past, it’s not inconceivable that you’d father an illegitimate child or two.”

“Despite what you and many others might think of my past, I was very careful during my past… interactions,” Tony trailed off, very aware of his wife standing at his back. “I have no illegitimate children.”

“No matter how many women have tried to say otherwise. For the record, I had paternity tests done for both Harley and Peter ages ago.”

Tony spun around towards her and Pepper rolled her eyes.

“Only so that we’d have proof in case such rumors started going around the news feeds when the two became more public. In case your forgetting, I was the one who always had to escort your interactions out. I’m perfectly aware you’ve covered your bases.”

“So?” Barnes asked. “What were the results?”

Pepper chuckled as Tony turned to scowl at him. “They were both negative.”

Tony threw his hands up. “Alright, raise your hand if you thought Underoos was my kid!”

After Steve confirmed that Underoos referred to Peter, everyone in the room raised their hands save Loki, Natasha, Harley, and Pepper.

“Rhodey!” Tony shouted at his best friend, who shrugged as much as he could in the suit.

“I thought you were just trying to keep it on the down low.”

Something registered in his mind before Tony could continue yelling. Slowly he turned to Peter, who dropped his arm with a blush.

“Awkward!” Harley called cheerfully.

Peter shot him a look. “Oh like you never wondered why Tony’s always giving us attention out of literally anyone else in the world.”

Harley shrugged. “Nah. Though I think my mom’s still half-convinced she had a drunken fling with him and just can’t remember. Kind of wish she had, though. He’s already a better dad to us than my dad was to me and he doesn’t even dad us.”

“He totally dad’s you,” Cassie snorts. “He’s seriously got that whole dad-aura whenever he’s around you two and Morgan that he doesn’t have any other time.”

“I am Groot,” Groot said, shaking his head. “I am Groot.”

“He said you have the appearance of sharing roots,” Loki translated. “Also, you talk the same. His words, not mine.”

Lila nodded. “I would have thought he was your dad even if dad hadn’t told me you guys were father and sons.”

“Clint told you they were related?” Pepper asked and Lila nodded.

“He knows they’re not,” Natasha said, shaking her head. “He was messing with you kids.”

Lila laughed. “Yeah, I figured, Auntie Nat.”

“Wait, when did I get dragged into this?” Harley asked, sitting up. “People think I’m his kid too?”

“Obviously,” Shuri said.

“Hey, I think we broke Stark,” Loki said, smirking at a frozen Tony.

The genius was still gaping at Peter.

“Tony?” Pepper whispered, setting her hand on his shoulder. She turned to the others. “Alright, I think that’s enough excitement for today. Kids, Carol brought back treats from her trip to Tønsberg,” she called before leading her husband out of the room.

“You okay?” she asked once they were alone.

“He really thought — They all thought that Pete — that both boys were mine.”

Pepper smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Everyone knows how much you adore those boys, and they both are so much like you. It’s not unbelievable that people might wonder. That’s why I had the tests done.”

Tony wanted to argue that, but found he couldn’t, so instead he focused on what had been his biggest point. “They thought the only reason I would care about them was because they were mine. Peter thought that!”

“Oh, Tony.” She pressed her face into his shoulder. “You know he didn’t mean it like that. You know how self-deprecating he can get sometimes, kind of like someone else I know.”

He huffed and she smiled up at him.

“He idolizes you. It’s not that he thinks you wouldn’t want to pay attention to him, he just doesn’t think he’s worth you paying attention.”

“That’s insane. That kid’s amazing. We need to work on that.”

“Pots and kettles,” Pepper mumbled before kissing his cheek.

I saw this post and had to write a thing. It was only supposed to be Harley at first, but then some of my MCU Young Avengers headcanons shoved their way in.

#MCU #young avengers #ironsons #ironson #tony stark

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kariachi · 5 years

Text

”So, we’re gonna start today’s Martin Mystery rewatches with The Vampire Returns. Should I have listened to more of the Young Frankenstein soundtrack during lunch in preparation? Probably. But here we are instead.

I love how this show always specifies the exact time shit starts going down. For instance, in this episode, 10:32 pm CEST

Good on Lady Soulsucker’s date for paying enough attention to notice when the girl he’s out with grows fangs and her eyes start glowing. You don’t see that often enough.

Aw and then she takes the daintiest bite of apple with teeth bigger than Date-Dude’s face.

I wonder how they got out without being noticed... can’t remember if the vampires in this episode can do the ‘turn to fog’ thing. Sure I’ll find out later.

Diana sitting there with a book and a crowd of impressed young ladies. What are you showing them, Diana? Did you make this book yourself? Did you mother write it? I can’t think of a reason for the ooo-ing and ahh-ing going on otherwise. Either that or you managed to attract a pack of lesbians and they are trying to get in your pants.

...ya know I’m kinda all for the idea that Diana has unwittingly attracted a chunk of Torrington’s lesbian population and they are all trying to smooze in the awkward way that only a young gay can manage.

Also hello Tonio, it’s nice to see you. I’m going to have to include you in this in some way, I believe, given the location and also that this is a fic for nix.

Martin, Martin, sweetie, no. You are not getting that girl. There were actual sparkles coming off her, you don’t deserve that sort’ve quality. Plus, ya know, she sounds like your brand of nerd isn’t her style. I know the saying is “aim for the moon, if you fail you’ll land among the stars” but let’s be realistic for five seconds

Tonio can see this disaster coming from a mile away.

Amber is not having it, solidly unimpressed. I’m shocked.

You think the girls at this school ever rate the boys and just, give Martin a solid 6/10 for effort and moxie alone? “We wouldn’t date him, but at least he’s entertainingly stupid.”

Amber’s look of shock and concern at the idea of Martin enjoying studying. Like she’s about to call in the Psi Psi Psi girls and Diana, clearly their moron has fallen ill. Diana, meanwhile, is just pissed and I can’t decide whether the idea that this is because Martin is lying to get a date or because ‘has he been lying for the past our entire lives’ is funnier.

Though, given we’ll be working with witch!Martin for this it’s not like he’s lying. He just doesn’t like studying, well, anything they teach at Torrington. (Although I am still a big fan of the idea that he’s perfectly bright and just doesn’t apply himself like, at all.)

Martin don’t growl at your sister, you’ll get enough chances to in season 3.

And Amber trying to let him down easy.

“Very rare, and totally irreplaceable” and you, all the way into season 2, are going to work with them, in your office, immediately after calling in Martin- known disaster and Destroyer of Projects? I swear you’d think MOM wanted her crap ruined. After a point you have no one to blame but yourself.

Martin no.

I repeat, MOM, no one to blame but yourself. Most people with an ounce of sense would stow away the shit they didn’t want destroyed when the guy who keeps destroying shit was called in.

Diana no. You’re being sent on a mission not a fucking river cruise.

Introducing, the world’s scariest tunnel of love. First condoms in the water, now people going missing, this dude is just done.

Well Lady Soulsucker just fucking demolished that place didn’t she. Godsdamn, forget shutting it down because people disappeared, shut it down because it’s officially a safety hazard.

Okay, access hatch in the ceiling, that explains that.

...Okay but Martin isn’t entirely wrong with his assessment here? Something strong and nocturnal is right on the nose, and while the werewolf and half-beast-half-humanoid (and I love he uses that word specifically) hybrid guesses aren’t quite right, they aren’t far off the mark. He brought his A game today.

Diana, darling, kids playing practical jokes generally don’t leave fair rides completely demolished in their wake. That is not a normal occurrence.

Java about to eat half-consumed food off the floor like child did Diana not teach you better than that? I wouldn’t be surprised Martin didn’t but Diana?

500 year old saliva. This is the sort’ve ridiculousness I expect from this show. What, did Lady Soulsucker not swallow, spit, or brush her teeth since she escaped her coffin? Was she going around with 500 years of no brushing on her breath? Of course she’s got vampire hypnosis it’s the only way she could get a date.

Vampire goes rwar at children, flees into the sun to escape capture. Also he may need some heavier clothes, those don’t seem to be keeping the sunlight out.

Martin no.

Billy making himself useful. Helping them follow the massive flashing clue that is the vampire’s clothing.

Martin slow your jock-ass down

Martin no, purple isn’t your color.

Okay, can I just say here that Lady Soulsucker looks fucking weird? She looks like a haunted porcelain doll. Or a shitty oc. Here, a theme song to go with her.

Question, why is there a surf shop in the middle of Paris? Is Paris big for surfing? A true French sport?

Oh, yeah, Simone, I forgot her name. It’s very French. Also dude chill.

Diana will not be stopped by some weird hyper-jealous dude.

She also, ya know, looks like a fucking corpse. But yeah, the reflection thing is your first clue something’s up.

He doesn’t see her, he doesn’t hear her, he doesn’t smell the 500-yo morning breath. I claiming him as an anosmiac by the way, the flag is in.

Welp. I can’t decide whether this feeding was more or less extreme than the last one. I mean, this time was pretty fucking hardcore, but last time she demolished an entire fair ride.

Simone, sweetie, have you considered that if you are looking for a specific guy maybe, just maybe, the way to go about it isn’t to just eat whatever random dude happens to be within hypnotizing range? Just a thought?

“He needs help, I’m going in” Martin says right after watching a guy get eaten by a vampire, proving that while he may not be the moron we deserve, he’s the moron we need. Diana, on the other hand, is a voice of reason and doesn’t deserve this shit.

Lucky those clothes were there to break your fall, Martin.

Martin, after dropping from the ceiling into a vampire’s feeding ground, alone: Don’t make me fuck your shit up! Simone, seeing this: Oh yay it’s my moron! Speak of the devil!

Am I saying Gerard was probably just as much an impulsive dumbshit as his great-x-grandson? Yes. Yes I am.

“Clever, and brave.” And a complete moron of a dork. “Just like my Gerard.”

“And just as handsome” it’s nice to see the looks keep in that family? I don’t believe Gerard got the floaty hair though, but his hair looked stupid so really Martin has the advantage there.

Vampire minions are strong, holding back Java with one hand.

Vampire true love is apparently very sparky.

Well Diana, at least you saved the watch.

Martin gets abducted by vampires, Billy immediately must run to the scene.

I’d be impressed with your strength, Java, if those doors hadn’t looked 70% fallen in before you got to them. You could’ve probably gotten the same result from a hearty cough on them.

Gerard=Martin w/o floaty hair or modern fashion. Don’t know why the portrait is in black in white.

You’d think Billy could’ve taken the thirty seconds to read a brief overview about the woman while he waited for Diana and Java, but no.

No wonder Gerard looks weird, there’s not even a splash of warm color in that outfit. And warm tones don’t do Simone any favors. Coordinate your fashion better, people, you’re vampires for fuck’s sake! What would Mike say!

How do we know about genes from a 15th century vampire? Also I note she says ‘relative’ and not ‘descendant’, but I’m not in the mood to dig into that.

Billy you are literally a galactic conqueror, but your big boy underwear on and get in the basement.

Let’s be real, Diana, that’s just a sibling thing. You go into horrible places to save them so you can give them hell about making you go to a horrible place to save them.

How many minions has Simone gotten together? Like, the clan hasn’t been renewed yet, so... When did she get the time? It’s been like 24 hours

Okay, that explains new guy A, what about B and C over there, who look like they stepped out of Robin Hood? where they sealed in with you? Is this the old crew?

Simone, queen of the night and motivational speeches.

Martin you can’t just call on a specific guy, poor thing probably had a heart attack. “Fuck, my Lady’s new consort has beef, fuckfuckfuck” but no, you just want some fucking fries. And Simone is fucking loving it.

Okay, so we know some of them sleep upside down.

It’s nice to see vampires can still be active sleepers.

Hissy vampires on all fours

Vampire!Martin is perfectly fine with being an evil trophy husband

Vampire!Martin standing there like “yeah, you rule the underworld, babe, rocking it!”

“Do you know how much grief I’ll get at Torrington if my stepbrother comes back a vampire?” Would it really be that much more than you get just for having him as a stepbrother in the first place?

A vampire lord consort and yet still, at heart, an annoying brother

Simone: Get me back my fucking moron and we’re all screwed!

Tell me that’s like, Diana or Java’s dirty sock because I’m fairly certain even Martin doesn’t deserve to have his own stuffed in his mouth

And Simone becomes a massive fucking bat beast. Fur, muzzle, little winglet-dealies, big ears, big teeth, no tail...

Okay, yeah, Java’s sock, cool

Those are some seriously dirty windows. Or, well, were.

Sunlight burns everybody but also burns Simone to fucking ash right quick. Which then removes the curse on her victims.

Also I wanna know more about this apparent vampire gene. It is of much interest, especially given next episode will be dealing with werewolves and in some folklore werewolves when killed become vampires, so...

Martin. No.

Amber really. Either you were setting him up or you yourself are dense as teak.

Oh Martin... stick with spies and monsters, honey

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rainbow-sides · 5 years

Text

Anomalies: Chapter Seventeen

Summary: Anomalies is about different reactions to grief and how four brothers each respond to the death of their mother. The oldest brother, Roman, gets custody of the twins, Patton and Virgil, and the youngest brother, Logan, after their mother’s death. Virgil is also trying to navigate through a multitude of anxiety disorders, including OCD and trichotillomania, with the help of his brothers and his therapist, Dr. Picani. But meanwhile, Roman isn’t sure he can handle the responsibility of taking care of his brothers, Logan doesn’t process loss in a way most people can understand, and Patton isn’t nearly as okay as he seems…

Warnings: Death of a parent, grief, cancer mention, mention of attempted suicide, mention of severe depression and self harm, gift-giving, food, Christmas.

For a list of the content warnings for the whole story as well as more information, please see this post. Please heed the warnings and stay safe.

Word Count: 3,236

Notes: This is mostly just the Christmas chapter, with bonus Remy! <3 ~Martin

Masterpost to All Chapters

“Don we now our gay apparel, eh?” Roman called, bounding into the living room wearing a slightly ugly rainbow Christmas sweater. He laughed at Logan and Virgil’s groans, and at Patton’s delighted squeal.

“Can't we just open presents?” Logan complained. “A fashion show is not necessary.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Roman tossed a package to each of his brothers. “Actually, a fashion show is absolutely necessary. Go on, I want to see you all wearing them!”

The tearing of wrapping paper filled the room. There were sounds of delight as everyone saw their sweaters. “Are these hand-knitted?!” Patton exclaimed.

“I didn't know you could knit,” Logan said, stroking the soft material and smiling.

“My friend Kelly from work taught me and helped me,” Roman explained. “I've been working on them for months.”

“They're beautiful,” Virgil said softly. “Thank you.”

Patton had already put his sweater on and ran over to hug Roman. “Thank you, I love it!”

Roman squeezed him tightly. “Love you, Pat.”

“My turn!” Logan scrambled to hand Patton a large, heavy package.

Patton opened it and looked at it confusedly for a second before his eyes widened. He pulled out a large, blue and grey plaid quilt. “Is it a weighted blanket?” he asked.

“Yeah, it's heavier than mine because they're supposed to be twenty percent of your body weight,” Logan said. “I thought...you might like one. They're grounding.”

Patton had sat down on the ground and was wrapping the blanket around him, an expression of pure contentment on his face. “It's so cozy and warm and soft,” he sighed happily. “Virgil, come share!”

Virgil slid under the corner of the blanket. “Oh, this is a nice one,” he said. “It is really soft, you're right.” He nestled down in the blanket next to Patton, closing his eyes.

“We're not getting them out of that anytime soon,” Roman laughed. The twins looked very comfortable. “Maybe you should've saved that one for last, Lo.”

“Perhaps you're right,” Logan said. “I do have a gift for you, too, but I think it would be better if I showed you later.”

Roman tilted his head. “Some big secret?”

“Yes, exactly. Can we give Virgil our present to him instead?” Logan suggested.

“If we can distract him from the blanket for long enough,” giggled Roman. He picked up the box under the tree that had Virgil’s present that he and Logan had gotten together.

Virgil reluctantly pulled his arms out of the blanket to take the box into his lap. “It's heavier than it looks,” he observed. He carefully sliced through the tape on the package with his fingernail and took the wrapping paper off in one piece. There was a long pause where he just stared at it. “Whoa,” he breathed.

Logan and Roman exchanged a glance. “Do you think he likes it?” Roman asked.

“Hm, I'm not sure,” Logan replied.

“I think he needs to tell us what he thinks,” Roman said, reaching out to poke Virgil. “Hello? Anybody home?”

“I...I wasn't expecting…”

“If you don't want it, give it back,” Roman teased.

“No, it's mine!” Virgil retorted, hugging the box to his chest. “Oh, my god, guys!” He looked close to tears.

“You better take lots of pictures with that,” Roman instructed. “That is a good camera.”

“Yeah, I know! I haven't...I haven't been taking many pictures lately,” Virgil confessed.

“I know.” Roman reached over and put his hand over Virgil’s. “This is so you start again. Okay?”

Virgil nodded. “I will, I promise. Oh, Roman, Logan, thank you!” He blinked his tears away and smiled. “I love it.”

“It was Logan's idea,” Roman made sure he knew. “I just provided some of the funds.”

Already opening up the box, Virgil said, “Its battery needs to be charged...but I should be able to start taking pictures tonight. Oh, it's beautiful!”

“I'm glad you like it!” Logan said.

“Here, this one is for you,” Virgil told him, handing him a thin, flat box. “I...um, it's from a while ago, but I gave it some new life.”

Logan opened the side of the box to slide the picture frame out. His face didn't give much away, but his eyes sparkled as he turned the frame around so everyone could see it. Roman recognized the picture as being from a photoshoot that Virgil had made them do at the beginning of his photography class last year. He had taken them all out to a field in the middle of the night, all of the brothers and their mom, and taken pictures of them sitting together with their backs to the the camera, holding hands and gazing up at the sky. They had to sit very still, Roman remembered, because Virgil had set the shutter speed slow enough to capture the light of the stars. They shone clearly in this photo, probably having been enhanced, and thin white lines had been added between some of the stars to form the constellations.

“It's alright,” Logan said in a small voice, but it meant so much more, and Virgil understood.

“Good, I'm glad.” Virgil looked at Roman and Patton. “I hope you like it, too, ‘cause you all get photos.”

“Well, hand them over!” Roman took the package that Virgil held out and opened it. “Ahh,” he breathed as he opened it. It was a very simple photo of himself sitting on the edge of the stage at the community theater, deep in thought and not aware of the camera. The golden lighting and red curtains behind him made the picture seem more dramatic than it probably had been at the time. Roman’s shape was slightly out of focus, more the background than the subject. The silhouette of three people sitting in the audience was the foreground of the photo, and Roman recognized their shapes as being Logan, Patton, and their mother. The rest of the audience was empty. Roman didn't even remember sitting there like that. He had no idea that Virgil had taken his picture. “It's really nice, Virge. Thank you.”

Virgil gave him a thumbs up and a smile, and then passed Patton the third package. It was a smaller frame, and Patton stared at it for a long time before he showed the others. Virgil watched him carefully, pulling the blanket tighter so he could snuggle closer to his twin.

Roman didn't say anything when he saw the photo, just nodded. There was a sudden lump in his throat.

“Your first homecoming,” Logan stated.

In the photo, Patton was standing with a bright smile, holding their mother's hands as she laughed about something. He was wearing the dress he had fought the administration to be able to wear to the dance in support of their trans and nonbinary friends at school, and she was just in a t-shirt and jeans, but she looked beautiful. She had always been beautiful, even when the cancer had made her thin and weary, her hair fallen out from the chemotherapy. But this was before the cancer has touched her--or perhaps it was already there, and they just weren't aware of it yet. Her diagnosis had come just a couple months after this picture had been taken. It captured a moment of pure joy, and Patton stroked the glass of the frame lovingly and longingly. He didn't seem to have any words. After a few more seconds, he turned to bury his face in Virgil's shoulder, hugging him so tightly that Virgil coughed.

“Patty, I'm glad you like it, but I can't breathe!” he yelped.

“I love you so much,” Patton whispered, barely audible. He loosened his grip. Virgil got his arms out to hug him back.

Roman waited a minute, then said gently, “Patty, are you gonna give us your gifts or should I grab them from under the tree myself?”

“You do it,” Patton responded, muffled. He was crying a little bit, and Virgil rocked him back and forth.

“It's okay, Patty, we can wait,” Roman said, sliding closer to the twins and touching Patton’s shoulder. “Take as long as you need.”

“N-no, you get the p-presents,” Patton stumbled. “Yours is from both of us.”

Roman took the gift bag addressed to him and opened it, gasping at the beautiful notebook and pen set inside. “Oh, it's gorgeous! Oh, thank you, I'm gonna write such good words in there, you have no idea.”

Patton was smiling and wiping his eyes, sniffling a little. “Glad you like it.”

“Someday when you're rich and famous, you better not auction those away,” Virgil teased. “Unless it's for charity, I guess. ‘This is the pen that the great Roman Sanders wrote the first lines of his award-winning script with!’”

Roman laughed. “I wouldn't auction it away, don't worry.” He handed Logan the other gift bag. “What's in here, hm?”

There was an actual squeal of delight that came from Logan's mouth as he pulled the book out of the bag. “Patton, this is wonderful, it's exactly what I wanted!”

“May it bring you hours of joy from reading it,” Patton told him.

Logan was already flipping through the pages of the collection of Sherlock Holmes stories, making ecstatic remarks about each one he came to. They all listened fondly as he talked. Virgil opened his gift from Patton, putting the sweatshirt on and smelling the purple candles with a content expression.

Roman eventually managed to drag them all to the kitchen to make pancakes, which was almost a disaster because one of them burnt so badly it started smoking, and they narrowly avoided setting off the fire alarm. It turned out fine, however, and the pancakes were delicious. Christmas movies followed, starting with The Nightmare before Christmas by Virgil’s request.

Halfway through It's A Wonderful Life, the house phone rang. Roman flinched. Hardly anyone called them there.

“Are you gonna answer it?” Patton whispered. “We can pause the movie.”

“It's fine, you don't have to pause it.” Roman wriggled out from underneath the excessive amount of blankets they were cuddled under and ran to get the phone before it stopped ringing. “Sanders residence.”

“Hey, girl, merry Christmas.”

Roman bit his lip. “Rem, this isn't the best time.”

“Please?” Remy begged. “Please, you haven't answered my calls in months and I just wanna talk for a few minutes.”

“Okay, okay! Fine. Hold on.” Roman came back over to the couch. “It's Remy,” he whispered. “Don't pause the movie, I'll be back in a few minutes.” They all gave him a sympathetic look. Roman fled to his bedroom and closed the door behind him, sitting on the bed. “Yeah, Remy. I'm here.”

“Girl, oh my goodness, it's nice to hear your voice,” Remy sighed. “You okay?”

“I'm…” Roman hesitated. “Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Okay, I know you've...had a lot going on,” Remy said. “And I know you've needed to spend your time taking care of your baby bros. But...I've been kinda worried about you. All of you. Can I have any sort of an update?”

Roman clutched the phone tightly and said nothing. This was hard. Really hard. It was hard to talk to Remy after everything that had happened between them.

“Ro, honey, listen. I'm good with giving you as much space and as much time as you need, I promise. I told you that before, and I'm telling you again now. I'm waiting, for as long as it takes.”

“I know,” Roman managed. “And I love you for it. You deserve better, someone who can actually be there for you--"

“Don't you start that again,” Remy warned him.

“Sorry.”

“It's okay, girl, it's okay.” Remy paused. “How's Patton? Poor baby.”

“He's doing better,” Roman answered.

“Yeah? Oh, that's good, that's good, I've been so worried about the kid. Miss him. I see Virge sometimes when I'm helping out in the school theater, but he doesn't talk much. And how's the baby genius?” asked Remy.

“Logan's doing pretty good.”

“And how are you?” Remy said seriously. “Roman. Be honest, ‘kay?”

“Rem...if I'm honest, I'm gonna start breaking down on the phone with you,” confessed Roman, his voice shaking. “I can't talk, not really. Not yet.”

“Come see me soon,” Remy said softly. “Come see me when you can talk, really talk. I'll be here."

“I know. I know.” Roman swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Merry Christmas, Rem.”

“Yeah, girl. Merry Christmas. Love you.”

“I love you.” Roman hung up quickly before he could start crying. He closed his eyes. After a minute, he stood up and went back to the living room. He slid underneath the blankets next to Patton and grabbed his hand, fixing his eyes on the movie.

“You okay?” Patton whispered softly.

“Hardly,” replied Roman.

“Is Remy okay?”

Roman squeezed his hand. “He's fine. Shhh, talk later.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise. It's okay.” Roman smiled reassuringly at him and kept watching the movie.

Late that night, after Roman had talked to Patton a little bit about the phone call and everyone was supposed to have gone to bed, Logan came into his room.

“Hey, nerd, what's up?” Roman yawned.

“Did you forget? I have a present for you,” Logan said.

Roman eyed him suspiciously. Logan didn't seem to be carrying anything. “Okay, where is it?”

“It's not an object.”

“Okay...what is it, then? You've sufficiently piqued my curiosity.”

“Promise you won't be angry?”

“Uhhh...tell me what it is, first.” Now Roman was slightly worried.

“It's just, I did it without your permission--but if it's not something you want, it's easy to back out, I promise, I did a lot of legal research, and nothing is actually signed, of course.”

“Logan,” Roman said calmly. “What did you do?”

“I got you a book deal.”

“A...book deal.”

“With a publisher. A small publisher, but a legitimate one. Like I said, I did a lot of research. And you can back out of the contract at any time.”

“Okay, first of all, how?” Roman demanded. “You're fourteen!”

“I registered myself as a literary agent with a company that didn't have an age restriction, and I communicated with the publishers only via email,” Logan answered. “I, well, I got the idea from School Story, by Andrew Clements.”

“Oh, you did, did you?” Roman scoffed. “Is this legal?”

“Morally dubious, but technically legal. And the publisher wants your book, Roman. They aren't supposed to sound eager, but the way she was talking about how much promise your novel has and how much she liked your writing, and the deal she offered you...of course you should look at the contract before you sign it. I just…” Logan shifted where he stood. “Perhaps this was a bad idea.”

“Logan,” Roman said softly. “How long have you been working on this?”

“Since I finished editing the first draft three weeks ago. Well, longer than that, actually.”

“And there's a publisher who wants to publish...my novel.”

“Yes. It's a very good deal for a first novel, too, and above average royalties, and…” Logan was fiddling with his thumbs, looking rather nervous as he swayed from side to side. “But as I told you, you don't have to take it. I just got the opportunity for you.”

Roman was trying to wrap his head around this. Part of him wanted to chastise Logan for doing something like this behind his back. Another part of him just wanted to pull Logan into a big hug. “You think it's good enough to publish?” he asked.

“Not only do I think it's good enough to publish, the publisher agrees with me,” Logan said.

“My silly little novel?” Roman checked. “Are you sure you didn't accidentally send them something else?”

“I'm positive. Your novel. A publisher wants it.”

“And you did this for me.” Now Roman was getting a bit choked up, which made Logan seem even more nervous.

“Roman?”

“Come here,” Roman demanded, and he wrapped Logan in the tightest hug he could muster. “Come here.”

“So you'll take the deal?” Logan squeaked, clearly having a hard time breathing.

Roman let him go. “I'll have to look at it first, and actually talk to this publisher myself.”

“Of course!”

“And under no circumstances should you ever do something like this again. I thought we were done keeping secrets?”

Logan crossed his arms. “I thought it didn't count if it was a present?”

“Finding loopholes now, huh? You'd make a good lawyer if you weren't so set on being a medical researcher and college professor, buddy.” Roman nudged him playfully. “Okay. You're gonna show me everything tomorrow morning. But right now, we're going to bed. Night, Lo.”

“Then...you're okay with the present?” Logan checked.

Roman’s face split into a grin. “It's the most thoughtful present I've ever gotten.”

“I didn't do much,” muttered Logan. “You're the one who wrote the book, I simply made someone else see the potential.”

“And you edited it and encouraged me and had faith in me even when I didn't.” Roman poked his little brother's nose. “We make a really good team, huh?”

Logan gave him a tiny smile and backed out of the room. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Lo. Sleep well.” Roman laid down on his bed in the darkness. He reached for his cell phone and hovered his finger over Remy’s contact for a minute before putting it aside again.

He and Remy had been together for almost two years before they had parted ways. Remy was Roman’s first kiss, first love, first everything. They had a friendship based on trust, which had been hard for Remy to form at first. It had broken Roman's heart to tell him that he needed space, that he didn't have the time or the energy to maintain their relationship when it became clear that his mother wasn't going to make it, and that he was going to be responsible for his brothers.

Remy, wonderful Remy, had understood. He had told Roman he would wait for as long as it took until Roman could be with him again. They were both in the production of Singin’ in the Rain even after they had broken up, with Remy absolutely nailing the role of Cosmo even when Roman was struggling to balance rehearsals and family, and Remy had been the one to tell the cast that Roman had to quit after Roman had officially told the director. Roman was so grateful to him for that.

He had fallen apart in Remy’s arms only once, a week after the funeral. Roman had left work and found himself driving to Remy’s house. The door had opened before Roman had even knocked, and Roman let out everything that he had been holding in because he couldn't let his brothers see how much he was struggling. They had to believe he was strong, or they would have been so scared.

“I can do it, I can take care of them,” he had insisted, sobbing and barely able to stand. “I just need to...I just…”

Remy had pulled him inside and held him as he collapsed to the floor. He didn't say much, but he didn't have to. Roman only needed someone he could break down around, someone with whom it was safe to show his weakness. Remy drove him home a few hours later, long after sunset when the other three boys were all asleep. Roman didn't know exactly how long Remy had sat with him. He remembered falling asleep to Remy rubbing his back, and the next morning, there was a text saying that Remy’s ma had picked him up and brought him back home.

Roman hadn't replied. Virgil was the only one who talked to Remy much after that, since he occasionally drove him home from school. Resolving to at least text Remy tomorrow, Roman closed his eyes.

Hope you enjoyed! It’s been a while since I posted, I was just having a hard time finding the time to post over the past couple weeks because I’ve been so busy doing adult stuff. <3 ~Martin

My general taglist

@a-lexicon-of-words @am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell @sassy-in-glasses @iamsilentwolf @theshipqueenarrives @alurea-actually @haikyuupaladin @my-happy-little-bean @faithfulcat111 @iris-sanders-athena @riverblujay @faacethefacts @sushipug43 @decaffeinatedpersonnel @finger-gunsss @wicked-universe @escapingslowly @greeneggsandham1998 @blue-fluffy-dragon @fuzzypurplecloud @anuninspiredpoet @justanotherpurplebutterfly @insultme-notmyfandoms @your-username-is-unavailable @candiukas-deactivated20180808 @spectacled-renegade @ocotopushugs @runawaysketch97 @unikornavenger @generously-sweet-asexual @icecoldparadise @nerdygeekyscience @starjames-pma @jamiecambrera @lunareclipse-13 @shesavampirequeen @theboywhodaredtofangirl @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @k9cat @wilford-woofstache @generalfandomfabulousness @echomist13 @a-whole-lot-of-screaming @ninjago2020 @danielscupoftea @the-fandoms-are-takin-over @melorabarton @alextheodd @the-better-bard @aidenneedstogetalife @vulnerablevirgil @trust-me-i-just-get-weirder @romanssippycup @journalanxiety @shadowsoul357 @dr-gloom @heck-im-lost @otaku-marijane @starryfirefliesbloggo @lienlovesshadowhunters @dontaskmyfandomidontknoweither @everyday-emo-stuff @bi-shy-and-ready-to-die @interesyvrany @bestestwaffle @today-only-happens-once @5-second-cookies @vigilantvirgil @evilmuffin @ajdraws0430 @youreverydayinternethobo

Anomalies taglist

@i-will-physically-fight-you @alextheodd @a-lexicon-of-words @cinderlunarcyborg @justamassivenerd @quietdeerfan @haikyuupaladin @anonymous-at-midnight @toriwithacamera @k9cat @anuninspiredpoet @afilhadehades-blog @logicallyanxious-morallyromantic @akiraaria @drunken-ghost @hanramz-the-fander @callboxkat @blubblubfish @spectacled-renegade @fillyourteacup @im-a-bin-child @keys117 @brikcsandbones @jadekitten1 @too-queer-for-the-binary @arandomkoalainaustralia @cinnnamonrollpatton @infinityonthot @romanssippycup @kirsten-the-freak @ab-artist @super-magical-wizard @illiani @angels-are-beautiful @dailylogandoodle @merlybird500 @imherefortheheckofit @moonfang03

#anomalies #ts sides fic #remy sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #my writing

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quarterfromcanon · 5 years

Text

Warm Whispers

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 26 - Interruptions [1,683 words]

Heather woke to the sound of scratching at the bedroom door. She rolled over and buried her head beneath the pillow. "Somebody needs to explain Daylight Saving Time to these cats." The clawing persisted. "It's too early, Perry. Mom gets an extra hour." Esperanza responded with a series of meows, each louder and higher than the last as she tried to rouse one of her mothers from their bed.

Valencia stirred. She scattered a few kisses between the straps of Heather's tank top and pinched her hip under faded sleep pants. "It's okay. I'll take care of them. I need to water the plants anyway."

One of Heather's eyes opened and peered through the pale blue of the unlit room. She felt the springs rise when Valencia left the bed. Esperanza and Shadow mewed their impatience while circling every step Valencia made. They were called to the kitchen with drowsy coos and kissing noises.

Heather could hear the cascade of cat food falling into bowls. Shadow's recognizable corner-of-the-mouth crunch followed shortly thereafter. The sink faucet burst into life with the turn of a handle. A tumble from the tap echoed in the watering can.

Valencia hummed softly as she waited for the plastic container to fill. Heather listened to the tune and sighed. Her weary limbs seemed to grow heavier against the mattress, urging her to fall into a deep sleep once more, but that voice in the quiet morning air possessed a more alluring pull.

Heather swung her legs free from the sheets. She padded to the bathroom entrance and took her robe off the hook. Her feet located a pair of slippers near the wall before she departed for the space beyond the open threshold.

A few minutes later, Valencia entered the living room to find their couch occupied. She glanced at Heather -- cross-legged, disheveled, alert -- and arched an eyebrow. "What happened to that additional hour you needed?"

"I decided I could find a better use for it."

"Uh-huh," Valencia acknowledged with faux skepticism. She braced a hand against the wall to lean over one plant and tend to another. "Watching me do household chores is entertaining for you this early in the day? Doesn't seem eventful enough to warrant the effort."

"You don't have my vantage point."

Valencia smirked. She stooped under the pretense of checking the soil. Her oversize Class of 2006 t-shirt inched higher with the bend. Heather straightened her spine and gripped her ankles in white-knuckled fists.

"I can sense that, you know," Valencia remarked without turning from her work. "Your stare is burning the back of my neck."

"Funny, you're picking it up a lot farther north than you should be."

Valencia's laughter was low and throaty. "I can feel it there, too."

Only two small succulents remained, each on a wooden ledge fixed to the wall behind the sofa. Heather eyed them both then turned to observe Valencia's approach. Out of every possible technique that could have been utilized to complete the task, Heather did not predict the method Valencia elected to employ.

Each movement was languid and deliberate. She straddled Heather's lap and reached for the final plants. Valencia's t-shirt grazed her girlfriend’s face. Heather resisted the urge to burrow deep into the fabric but her fingertips sought purchase on the strong thighs that squeezed her own. Valencia held a plant and the watering can in front of herself, tending to the greenery with practiced indifference to their physical contact. Her facade of detachment did not even flicker when Heather's nails left pink lines from knees to pelvis.

Valencia restored the glass pots to their proper places. She overturned the spout above Heather's head. The can was already empty. "Hmm. Guess I finished it off." Her palm lowered and she allowed the container to slide to the floor. "But something tells me I didn't really need that to get you wet."

Heather tried to roll her eyes, although the dismissal lost its edge as she folded back Valencia's nightwear to access her stomach. "I wanna call foul for such an obvious line, but you're also not wrong so... well-played."

"The opportunity presented itself and I couldn't resist." Valencia's fingers plunged into Heather's curls and her muscles trembled under the trail of kisses winding over her abdomen.

"I can understand the temptation," Heather mumbled against Valencia's ribs.

She guided the material away inch by inch with no particular concern for brevity. When the shirt finally fell from view, Valencia's body was covered in nothing but shivering pinpricks and the soothing attention of Heather's hands.

Valencia pushed Heather's robe off her shoulders. They shifted as one to stretch along the couch, but then Heather froze. "Goddamnit."

"What's wrong?" Valencia followed her line of sight and giggled. "Hola, Za-Za."

"Really?" Heather demanded with a half-hearted scowl at their indifferent feline. "This is the place you choose for your post-breakfast nap?"

Valencia traced Heather's clavicle. "She wants to be near our mutual favorite person, so I can't say I blame her."

"Yeah, well, I would really appreciate it if she expressed that love by letting me enjoy unaccompanied quality time with her Mamá." Heather widened her eyes meaningfully, but the cat neither acknowledged the non-verbal signal nor showed any inclination to obey it.

Valencia's teeth found Heather's jawline and nipped lightly. "Why don't we go try the bedroom instead?" She climbed off Heather's lap then held out her arm.

Heather accepted the offered assistance with a parting head shake at willfully oblivious Esperanza. Valencia stole Heather's robe to wear on the walk and hugged her middle from behind. She dragged her mouth across any skin she could reach while they shuffled in a two-part train formation toward the room they had vacated a short while ago.

When they reached the doorway, Heather stopped mid-stride. "Nooo..."

Valencia peeked over Heather's shoulder. Shadow was curled atop the groove in the sheets on Valencia's side of the mattress.

"This is starting to feel like a deliberate takedown," Heather groused. "It’s lucky for them that they're both so cute."

"Mmm, very." Valencia rested her forehead against Heather's back. "You know, maybe our problem is that we're searching for a horizontal flat surface. There's no rule saying we need one."

Heather twisted toward Valencia, careful not to disrupt their established embrace, and slipped both arms inside the open robe. "Interesting proposition. What's the support?"

Valencia's upturned lips brushed the curve of Heather's neck. She sidestepped while maintaining her grip and slammed them both against the wall.

"Neither of them can see us here," Valencia declared while her fingers crawled down Heather's torso.

"How're you so sure?"

"Baby, I used to live on social media. I know how to work my angles." Her urgent touch bypassed the waistband of the pajama pants.

Heather's breath hitched. "In more ways than one," she joked.

Valencia winked.

They melded together with open-mouthed kisses and wandering caresses. Much to Heather's relief, there was no further interference from the other occupants of the house. She rolled her hips against Valencia's forearm. Heather moaned when sharp teeth ghosted along her pulse point. Her knee bent involuntarily and Valencia bore down on her thigh.

Unseen by the lovers in the hallway, Shadow's and Esperanza's ears flicked at the escalating noises that cut through the silence but the intermittent cries and passionate murmurs did little to disturb their slumber.

Valencia adjusted her weight for support as Heather slumped forward. Heather nuzzled her hair until they both caught their breath. Too exhausted to remain where they were, the couple returned to the bedroom hand-in-hand. Shadow was still occupying the same spot, enjoying the rays of the rising sun. Heather gently attempted to nudge her aside and make room but Valencia caught her elbow.

“She can stay.”

Her palms eased Heather onto the mattress in a reclined position. Heather obeyed the subtle pressure against her shoulders and smiled when Valencia settled on top of her. Valencia’s cheek rested over Heather’s heart. Her arms wound around her waist, and Heather mirrored the hold while rubbing circles at the base of Valencia’s spine. The robe loosely fell over them both. It made a suitable replacement blanket in lieu of the covers their cat monopolized.

Heather crooked a finger under Valencia’s chin. She tilted her into a lingering kiss. When Heather’s mouth moved to the sensitive skin behind her ear, Valencia checked the time on her charging cell phone. “We’ve still got about… seven-and-a-half hours before the service starts at Sacred Heart, which means six-and-a-half before actually needing to be out the door to get a pew with my family on time, and five-and-a-half before I’d have to start getting dressed and ready…”

“Do you wanna tell me why you’re doing clock math right now?” Heather’s teeth tugged on Valencia’s earlobe.

“I think you know.”

Heather’s laugh breezed over Valencia’s cheek. “What about your sun salutation?”

Valencia cupped Heather’s neck to bring her closer. “Well, I’m already running a little late to start at dawn.”

“Oops.”

“Yeah.” Valencia closed her eyes with a sigh. “But I’m sure I can still fit it into the schedule between now and the lunch hour. Meanwhile, I’m finding this pretty restorative on its own.”

“Wait a minute.” Heather pulled away enough to look her in the eye. “You’re gonna let me disrupt your Sunday routine to stay in bed and fool around for the rest of the morning?”

Valencia lifted her eyebrows. “Thanks for joining us, Professor.”

“And now you’re ‘no shit, Sherlock’-ing me about it.” Heather leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “What’s gotten into you?”

“There’s a pretty easy answer to that question, but I’ve already exceeded my quota for obvious lines.” Valencia coaxed Heather’s hand between her thighs. “What do you say, Miss Self-Proclaimed Badass? Do you want to break a few rules with me?”

Heather’s expression brightened when Shadow hopped off the bed and departed for the living room. A mischievous grin spread across her face. She flipped Valencia onto her back in the vacated space and hooked a leg over her hip. “C’mere, rebel.”

#H+V FF #CEG Writing by Me #Helencia #Heather x Valencia #GUESS WHO IS FINALLY BACK?#(Me.)#I'm so relieved!!!

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rrrawrf · 5 years

Text

twas the day before thanksgiving

so, naturally, the airport went to hell in a handbasket.

credit to @thewinedarksea for the edit!!

so i’m gonna take y’all through this step by step.

my usual schedule is 530am to 600pm. a couple weeks ago, to be nice, i took a coworker’s 3 to 6 shift today on top of this, because they have a family and a real life outside their job, and meanwhile i’m just an airport troll who lives there anyway.

usually i work ramp or ops, because i like them better than dealing with passengers. today, i am actually the gate agent :) all day. :) :) :)

so we start today off nice and easy, with a mainline flight to denver that leaves at 705 am and is, of course, oversold. because it’s the day before thanksgiving, so of course it is.

fortunately, someone doesn’t show up for their flight, so we board everything smoothly, get gate checks, everyone has their seat assignment, it’s just another flight. i have to supervise my gate assist when she pulled the jetbridge back from the plane bc she is new and nervous, and then literally right after that, i have to go supervise two of the rampers in deicing the plane bc they are also new and nervous.

everything goes fine. it’s fine. no big deal.

next plane is a chicago flight (ORD #1) at like 9 something or other. we don’t usually have this chicago flight during the off season, so i had no idea i was working it until like 20 minutes before it landed.

scootch my bootch upstairs to deal with it. i’m merrily going about giving seat assignments to passengers when i get a call from downstairs.

“lisa there is a pet going on this flight, i need you to come accept it”

“admin j, my sign in does not work for this airport (still)”

“can you please come down i am sending another gate agent”

i go back downstairs while a very nice lady coworker takes over for me at the gate

turns out, the governor of a state i used to live in is flying out! turns out, he is also shipping a dog! turns out, we only found out AFTER the load plan had been locked, so we can’t get the dog on the plane! turns out! the governor and his dog aren’t even at the airport yet!

(: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (: (:

my manager, thankfully, gets involved as me and our main ops agent say no, we cannot get this dog on this plane, load planning cut us off, the guy isn’t even here, he doesn’t get to try and ship a dog less than an hour before departure and not even be here with the dog.

while my manager is down at the counter trying to manage things, this poor old lady who just wants to check in and needs wheelchair assistance shows up, so i bail on my manager and wheel her up to security

“i ship dogs with you guys all the time!” says the very late and angry governor to my manager, as i gleefully make my escape with a very kind old woman who later gives me a ten dollar tip

i manage not to flip the governor off, but his assistant may have heard me call the governor a bastard very loudly in the break room. i feel bad about this. i thought he was the mayor of a very large city by a very large lake, who with which my friends back in said state have had previous experience with in the flying arena.

when i get the lady back up to ORD #1, my fellow gate agent is just starting pre-boarding, so i just swoosh kind lady on down to the plane and help her to her seat, come back, displace a ramp agent who has some gate training as he tried to help the actual gate agent seat people. it was very kind of him, but he was out of practice and i took over and let him abscond back to the outdoors to throw bags, as i look on longingly from the gate windows and wish that i, too, could return to my natural habitat.

we rock ORD #1, get it out on time, everyone celebrates and i do my paperwork

time for ORD #2!

this is a smaller plane. it has 4 open first class seats. it has no one on the upgrade list. the only people with status were the very basic united credit card holders who really don’t get any benefit from the credit card at all.

do you know what this means?

it means i get to go hog wild.

we’re oversold by three in economy, so i have to upgrade people. i upgrade a dad and his lil son bc they had a hilarious last name and bc i just wanted to make someone’s day. i also upgrade a young couple. upgrading these four people meant i could throw two parents and their three kids together, a mom and her kid, her husband and their other kid, all in good seats next to each other with no families being separated. a guy on the heavier side asks if i can get him some extra legroom. unfortunately, i gave all the extra legroom seats to people with kids, BUT i have two empty seats in the back, so i move a couple people from a row back a row up and free up the guy his own row.

i am l i v i n g

breaking policy left and right

throwing upgrades away like oprah

it’s a thanksgiving miracle

(i go down to the plane to give the flight attendants their paperwork. they are less than thrilled with the woman of the younger couple that i upgraded - she was being mean and disrespectful. i feel bad for the amount of time it takes me to close the door and pull the jetbridge back, bc how would i have known this girl who got a free upgrade would be a witch? karma will get her back later.)

and then

ḑ̴̥̭̪̝͉̰̈́̓̆̃̈́̓̎̎͐̀͗ ȩ̸̧̛̠͈͚̺̪̣̙̳̲̲͍͎̰͛̾͌̉̉̓̑̓̂͠ n̷̡̡̻̬͎̫̦̹̰̹͈̫̏͘͜͝ͅ v̵̫̬̫͋̔̆̊ e̵̟͗͐́̓ r̸̡͕͈͎̟̜̣̠̰̖̦̒͊̆̓̈́̅̉̔̑͛̐̍̕̚͜͜͝

because it’s the day before thanksgiving, our big boy mainline denver is oversold by two! because of course it is!

i start soliciting for volunteers right away. amazingly, i get three (technically five, but two were a pregnant lady and her husband, so i just went “nope we are not putting them through this nonsense” and ignored that)

the first kid was actually a volunteer for the same flight yesterday, and got bumped, and he volunteered again because he didn’t want to spend any more time with his family in seattle than he had to

#mood

two girls who are going to just denver also volunteer. i very happily take them, because volunteers are literal angels and should have shrines built in their honor

as it turns out, by the time we stop checking people in, we need only one volunteer. boy going to seattle is first on the list, so he gets to stay (he ends up on san fran flight later). i shoo the two very lovely girls onboard, along with the older couple who would have been involuntarily denied boarding, had a pack of millenials who don’t want to go home for thanksgiving not shown up to go “please give me a reason to stay in montana”

fellow gate agent and i spend the next six years trying to figure out how to process an oversale by ourselves. it goes well. kid walks away with 800 dollars of travel vouchers from yesterday, and 900 today, and ends up with 1700 all total. he is gaming the system and i am unceasingly proud of him for it.

normally, this would be the end of my day.

it is not.

because now we have

the californias

because half of california is on fire and also experiencing extreme winds, our los angeles flight (LAX) is delayed by like four hours. our san francisco flight (SFO) is on a ground hold for an hour.

because it’s the day before thanksgiving.

the reason i usually work 530 to 3pm is because i’m willing to get up early, than stay late, because the californias are always late. and if it isn’t the californias, it’s our last baby denver plane (denver the third). because DEN #3 is flown by gojet. and gojet is consistently late.

except for today.

SFO gets here first, and then are on the ground for like an hour because they’re only delayed because of a ground hold in san fran because of smoke and high wind speeds. everything is chill. no one comes up to me to get rebooked. pilot asks for a departure time 3 minutes before what the computer says, and i give it to him.

now, at this point, the delay on LAX is known. it is in the system. pax would have been notified via phone, email, and the flight boards in the gate.

so, naturally, you would think that people on LAX who need to be rebooked would come up to me in the hour before i have to board SFO, right?

when i have the time? when i can take fifteen minutes to look at their itinerary and work something out?

lol

miss mary, older lady who is a little worried but overall a pleasure to work with, shows up just before i start boarding SFO and needs to get to sacramento and was on that LAX flight

i have no gate assist, because denver #3 just landed at the other gate and the other two gate agents are dealing with it next door.

so i have to board this plane, and i can get miss mary on only if one passenger doesn’t check in before thirty minutes to departure

fortunately for miss mary, they do not

unfortuantely for miss mary, she has to stand there while i board, try to rebook her, stop boarding bc the preboarding woman who thought she could use a walker on the plane (you can’t, aisle is too narrow) needs an aisle chair to get to her seat, make one of my rampers stand at the door and keep everyone from boarding, run down the jetbridge, aisle chair this poor older woman on, apologize 500000 times because i should have just taken the initiative, boarded her like ten minutes early, and done it myself because none of the rampers know how to use an aisle chair, then run back up to the gate, finish rebooking poor miss mary, reroute her bag and get her on the plane

that would have been enough

BUT THEN

i am paging the last two SFO passengers. they’re being stupid and not there. fourteen minutes to departure, which is four minutes to closing the main cabin door, a guy shows up

“hey uh if those two people you’re calling don’t show up, can we get on this flight? ours is delayed”

:| “no”

“are you sure?”

“i cannot rebook you in four minutes”

he leaves. two minutes later, his girlfriend comes, while i am still boarding, and asks the same thing

i get angry with her

“is there really no way?”

“well i could delay the plane for you,” i snap, very frustrated by this point

i think i scared her, she backs off

five seconds later, my last two idiot passengers show up anyway and the plane is full, so gf and her bf wouldn’t have been able to switch onto my plane anyway

sidenote: for anyone who thinks that rebooking you is a matter of like two minutes and a smile

it is not.

i get SFO out, which much pain and almost tears (but i didn’t cry!!!!!)

meanwhile, next door, three of my other gate agents are scrambling to do denver #3

tryna get another girl on LAX onto denver #3 instead, one coworker is on the phone with her dad who is trying to work things out

HALFWAY THROUGH BOARDING DENVER #3

THE MOBILE BRIDGE ADAPTER BREAKS

the MBA is a little bridge we use on certain aircraft that we can’t bring the jetbridge up to as closely, so we just scoot a lil bridge out to the plane

the right hand railing won’t stay upright

so i yell at gate 6 to stop boarding, drag the broken MBA out of the plane, run over to gate 7, yell at a ramper to help me drag that MBA over to 6, get it set up, have to run back up to gate 6 to yell at them to start boarding again, because no one! is listening! to the radio!!!!!

they are still trying to rebook this poor girl on denver #3. last minute, her dad changes his mind and says no bc we can’t guarantee she will get to sacramento that night

we took

a one minute delay

because of this bullcrap

anyway after the flight was gone one of the other gate agents got her onto a delta flight, so that’s good for her

now we still have like three hours before stinkin’ LAX even gets here

things kinda slow down - except my dearest darlingest coworker x

oh, x :)

x COMMITS A VIOLATION OF SECURITY REGULATIONS BY BRINGING A BAG THAT HAD GONE THROUGH SCREENING INTO THE PASSENGER AREA

NO, X

YOU CAN’T DO THAT

W H Y

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

fortunately, no one is arrested and we get it sorted out. i nearly have a heart attack. we’re most definitely going to get an email about this.

at this point, it is 640pm. we are overstaffed bc we only have one plane to come in, so supervisor sends most of the rampers home

and

praise hallelujah

they send me home

and i wrote this

#long post #lisa at work #airport stuff

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