#so moral of the story maybe listening to your big stupid feelings is okay sometimes. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beigehearts · 3 years

Text

Multiple requests are fine! Requests are unlimited.

This is a cool idea so hell yeah

Yandere Adult Trio finding you after a few years after escape CW: physical abuse, mentions of kidnapping, blood, needles

Hisoka

This is rather nice actually. A quiet life in the middle of nowhere where no one questions you. It’s somewhat of a farming community you live in. You work at a farmers market, selling fresh fruits and vegetables to the same people every day. Everyone here recognizes you under your fake identity, and treats you as part of the community. As if you didn’t randomly appear one day. As if you aren’t in hiding.

It’s been about three years you would say. Three years since you escaped... him. You dyed your hair, wore colored contacts and completely changed your clothing look. You moved countries, learned a new language, and completely dropped your entire identity and life. It was the only way you could escape him. How you escaped him remains a mystery to you too. He was always attentive but- you escaped that last time. Slipped through his fingers.

Mr. Grady, the oldest farmer in town hobbles over to your stand and smiles with his big loose mouth. He only has a few teeth but you don’t need many when you blend all of your food anyway.

“Oh hello Charlie. How are you today?” He asks with his frail old man voice.

You smile back and begin bagging up the usual for him. “Very good Mr. Grady. How are you?”

Your conversations are never short but it’s almost become a highlight of your day to hear the old man ramble. “Oh you know. The sheep dog are sick, so I tried rounding those cows up with my cat. He practically got trampled!” He throws his arms up as if it’s unbelievable. You somewhat listen as he continues. “... moral of the story is, cats are unreliable and only have two lives.”

As you hand the paper bag over the counter the old man stops to think for a moment. “I saw someone new up by the shops today, he was a real character. Quite tall too.”

You nod and get the change for the money he hands you, “Oh really? Did you talk to him?”

“He wasn’t much interested in me. Though he didn’t seem like a normal traveler. He was much too eccentric for that.” He offers one last toothless smile, “Don’t work too late. It’s time for the foxbears to come out of hibernation soon.”

Before you can further question him, he hobbles off pretty quickly for an old man. Of course you’re overreacting but someone eccentric and tall randomly coming to town? No it couldn’t be. It’s been over three years since then. And he wouldn’t go this far for you would he?

After closing up the shop you grab the keys to your car and head for the ‘parking lot’. It’s a field with white lines spray painted on the grass with a single light to illuminate the whole place. You hop into your car and are just glad to finally go home after a long day. It was rather slow but that’s because it was a tuesday. It is very busy on friday-monday. You start your car, and turn on the air, you plug your phone in and relax some into your seat.

You adjust your rear view mirror and scream when you do. You just barely catch the reflection of someone in the back of your car. He’s sitting in the back seat watching you closely. You decide against turning around to face him.

“Hello y/n. Or is it Charlie?” He asks calmly, as if it were a casual conversation.

You clear your throat and try to control your shaking. “What are you doing here Hisoka?”

He ignores your question completely. “You really know how to choose a nice town. Quiet, friendly, off the grid.”

“I suppose.” Your hands grip on the steering wheel tightens. “How did you find me?”

“Oh, well, it was quite hard really. You did a good job. But once I found the first person who helped you change your identity, it was just a matter of going down the chain.”

You’d rather not think about what happened to those people. “And what are you doing here?” You repeat your question.

“Well there’s only one thing I’m here for of course.” He leans back in the seat, just barely having enough room for his legs. “I’ve come to bring you home.”

“I don’t want to. It’s nice here.” You state as if you have an option.

He leans forward this time, and cranes his head around the drivers seat to whisper in your ear, “It’s really not up to you pet.”

Before you can even react, there’s a rope around your neck, and he’s pulling you hard against your seat. You claw at the rope and gasp for air. You try to turn some but the rope burn hurts too much. You manage to get your fingers under the rope around your neck, and throw yourself forward.

His head smacks the back of your seat but your head smacks the wheel, honking the horn. There’s no doubt that you’re bleeding. You throw the rope over your head and jump out of the car, and run. But he’s much faster.

He jumps out of the car and before you know it, he grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you to him. He holds you against himself with his arms, leaving no room for escape. But you have one more trick up your sleeve. You throw your head back as hard you can and headbutt his face. There’s a loud crack that you can only assume is his nose.

He groans and his nails dig into your skin through your clothes. “You really got feisty while I was away.” His nails begin to pierce your skin, ripping through the cloth of your shirt. “But it’s no matter, it only turns me on more.”

Illumi

To say you’re on the run is an understatement. You’re practically sprinting away even all these years later. You know that if you stop for even a few days that he would find you. You spend no more than three days at a time in the same place. You’ve travelled half of the world by now- and quite honestly it has been somewhat nice. Not just the freedom from the suffocating grasp of your captor Illumi, but being able to see the world. You would never have done this if not for the situation you were in. Maybe things happen for a reason.

It feels like forever since you’ve been travelling. But the reality is that it’s only been two years. Two long years of not stopping. You have a new name and often go days without eating. It’s not easy getting money when you aren’t in the same area for long.

It was late night when you escaped from him. He never let his guard down so you just had to go for it. He wasn’t expecting you to make a mad dash out of the manor, and hide out in the woods for a few days. Slowly but surely you managed to get out of the mountain prison, leaving through the small door next to the office. The man working at the entrance was sipping tea and reading the newspaper when you left much too busy to pay attention to you. You’re more than sure he was punished for missing you leaving. But sometimes you wonder if he chose to ignore you on purpose, and let you escape.

It’s a beautiful morning. You slept on a few blankets and a sweatshirt as a pillow on the ground of a cave. It was hard to get any sleep at first but you managed to get used to the back pain. The sun is shining through the canopy, streams of light illuminating the cave. The grass outside of the cave is wet with dew droplets. It’s only slightly humid but the breeze with the warm weather is heavenly. It’s not every day you get good weather like this.

You sit up and stretch your arms in the air, yawning tiredly. Your usual morning routine was to get a fire started, and put the tiny kettle above it. In your small backpack you have a few essential items. Coffee being one of them. You get out your tin can after jimmying a fire and filling the kettle with water from a nearby stream. You drop some instant coffee grounds in the kettle and bask in the aroma of coffee.

You pour yourself a cup and put some powdered milk packets and splenda in the cup, stirring it with a stick that looked relatively... clean. But you had a feeling that today was the day. You weren’t sure why this morning you knew he would find you. But you did. Almost on cue, you hear footsteps approach behind you.

You bring the tin cup to your lips, taking a long sip of the hot coffee.

“So this is where you’ve been.” You don’t even flinch at his words. You knew this was inevitable.

The coffee burns your tongue. “Yes, I must have stayed here for a day too long. Don’t you agree Illumi?”

“Yes. It was quite stupid.” There’s a silence between the two of you. You continue sitting on the ground with your back facing him. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks as if he’s picking you up from and elementary sleep over.

“May I finish my coffee first?”

“I suppose.” Though he doesn’t move from his spot, his gaze staying firm on your back.

Luckily you haven’t spent all this time just running, but training. In self defense to be specific.

Quickly you jump up and turn around, you move your arm to throw the coffee on him in hopes of burning him. He grabs your wrist, but the coffee does land on his forearm. You bring your leg up to kick him in the side but he grabs it right as you make contact. The only hit you actually manage to land is when you throw a punch with your free hand at his throat. If it were anyone else they would be stunned for at least a few seconds. But this wasn’t anyone. He shows no sign of flinching.

“Are you ready now?” He asks.

You allow your body to relax and he lets go of your limbs. “Go ahead, put a needle in me.”

He doesn’t argue with your point, pressing a needle to your chest and the last thing you hear is “Don’t fight it.”

Chrollo

The very thought that all of these people by his side had no qualms about you being kidnapped makes you sick. All of them had many chances to set you free and yet they stayed loyal to your captor, as if this were normal and okay. So many people witnessing this unhealthy obsession and not even muttering a word about it. Honestly you find it more ridiculous than you do sad. How did he have all these people under his thumb? Was he really just that powerful?

Wherever he went, you went. One day he had what they called, ‘a mission.” You had caught a cargo train out west and jumped on, as stowaways. It’s not as if anyone checked each boxcar. All of you had fallen asleep in the small space of the boxcar. The train was at full speed, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. Cargo trains were much faster than you anticipated. Once you were sure everyone was asleep, you stood up casually as if you were just stretching. In case someone woke up. Which they did. Nobunaga peeled his eyes open and examined you. But he was too slow, you leaped out of the car before anyone could grab you. You went tumbling through a field after hitting your head very hard against the ground. It wasn’t the perfect escape but it was an escape.

After that you found a nearby farm, and while it was still night you stole a horse from a barn. You rode for many miles, until days later you found a very busy city. Somehow you managed to make a life for yourself, becoming a low grade secretary.

Today was a slow day, your employer did not have many clients today. You checked in on your boss to see if she needed anything but she waved you away. You decided to play solitaire on the computer, a perfectly valid way to waste time.

The phone rings and you pick it up while still keeping one hand on the mouse to play solitaire.

“Hello this is the Seedling Lawyer’s Office. How may I help you?” You stick the phone between your ear and shoulder, playing solitaire.

There’s a chuckle from the other side of the phone. “So it is you.”

Your blood runs cold, and the only thing that your head is telling you is ‘run’. “I’m not sure who this is, could you please state your name and purpose for calling?” Playing dumb seems like the only decision right now.

“My darling, there’s no need for the semantics. I’m coming to pick you up right now.” Perfectly on cue, the sliding doors of the building open and you drop the phone, standing up abruptly.

His eyes show affection and kindness, but there’s a glimmer of... rage. You look around but no one is in the waiting room and you know the cameras are fake for security. This is a cheap layer’s business after all.

“There’s no need for the semantics Chrollo.” You try to say mockingly but it comes out more as fearful and unsure.

His smile drops and he begins walking towards your desk. “Do you understand the consequences of your actions y/n?” He scoffs kicks the heavy desk to the side as if it weighed nothing. “I missed you of course.”

“Ah well, maybe I needed a break.” It comes out as a question.

He corners you against the wall and places a rough hand on your cheek. “Oh darling, oh my sweet darling.” His smile reappears, as sweet as it always has been. “I’m going to kill your entire family.” His hand grips the side of your face roughly and he tilts your head back.

“You really are something. I would never hurt you, you know.” He places a gentle kiss against your cheek despite his tight grip on the side of your head. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for what you’ve done.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and grab his wrist. “Well you’re hurting me right now.”

Immediately he drops his hand and sighs. “I would never hurt you intentionally, or if not necessary.” He grabs your throat, holding it so tightly you wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk again. He’s crushing your air ways and vocal cords. You claw at his wrist but its useless. “Disciplining you does not count as hurting you.” He leans forward, and if you could yelp you would.

He bites your cheek, definitely leaving a mark. After drawing blood, he licks it up. Your vision is going dark but you’re simply not strong enough to fight back. “Do you understand darling?”

#hisoka #hisoka morrow #hisoka x reader #yandere hisoka #illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #yandere illumi #chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo #phantom troupe #hxh #hunter x hunter #adult trio #adult trio x reader #yandere adult trio #yandere

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starglow-xx · 3 years

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(About the brother!atsushi) aRE YOU READING MY MIND MISS?! Because that has been on my mind for MONTHS. TYSM For writing it was amazing!! If you don't mind, may I request (if requests are open) atsushi, still an older brother, but with a sister that's 10-13 yrs old? It's totally fine if you don't wanna do it. Keep up the good stories, ily mwuah!

*sobs* you’re so kind thank youu 🤧🤧

i wrote this a bit differently i hope that’s okay anon! at first i planned for this to be mainly abt atsushi and the reader, but i decided to add in relationship hcs with the agency bc i ran out of ideas

if you guys liked this don’t worry! im planning a special part two for this one so be the look out for it hehe

atsushi with a tween! sister

ft. the armed detective agency

like in my baby sister hcs, you’re still the most important thing to him period

the two of you got picked up by dazai and kunikida when he was 18 (obviously) and when you were 12

for a 12 year old, you were a bit small bc of malnourishment (which makes atsushi feel so bad) so both dazai and kunikida thought you were a bit younger than you actually were

they assumed you were about 9-10ish

you and atsushi both share a favorite food !! chazuke :)

so when kunikida treated the two of you, he made sure you got more bowls bc like i mentioned above, he feels really bad that you were malnourished and under weight

(don’t bring this up but kunikida felt bad too hehe)

when dazai went with your brother to the warehouse, you were with kunikida

imagine the surprise of the other ada members when kunikida came in with a little girl dressed in rags that popped out from behind him

kenji was the one who vocalized his thoughts

“kunikida-san you have a daughter?! wow! i didn’t know that! :D”

when you found out your brother was a tiger, you were a bit concerned but you were actually kind of excited

you were even more excited when you found out the two of you were going to be taken in by the agency

anything was better than the stupid orphanage

and besides!

you got a tiger for an older brother and a bunch of other super powered agents to take care of you! who could want anything else?

at your age, you’re very impressionable and can be influenced easily so atsushi makes sure to teach you more in depth of good morals and the importance of kindness

his heart swells with pride and relief when he catches you being kind to others

pride bc he’s proud that even after all the two of you have gone through, you still ended up being a good kid and having a bright view of the world

and relief bc he hasn’t failed as a big brother

pfftt like he could ever fail

but please, from time to time reassure him that he’s perfect and the only big brother that you’d ever want bc he rlly needs that kind of validation

with his salary and savings, he tries to buy nice things for you

what a sweetheart 🥺

he saw you eyeing that one dress at a store window? fast forward abt a week and half and it’s inside a pretty gift bag for you

you wanted to try that dessert from the nice bakery? that’s dessert after dinner at one point

but other than buying you things, he sets money aside for you

like all the time

(y/n), here have this, you might need it”

“but nii-san you just gave me—”

“take it”

#1 spoiler

also your #1 confidant and source of physical affection

you tell him anything and everything (except crushies and those kinds of things)

atsushi loves it when you talk abt your day and he can see the big smile on your face and the sparkle in your eyes

it gives him the strength to keep going 😖😖

the two of you aren’t as touch starved as you’d probably think, but that’s only bc the two of you had each other

in your opinion, no one can match the hugs of your big brother

and it got even better bc YAYY he has tiger arms now ٩(◕‿◕)۶

if you ask, he’d carry you around too hehe

you also get nightmares quite often so he’ll always be there ready to calm you down, talk if you need to, and rock you back to sleep

god i love him 🤧🤧

atsushi will do everything in his power to protect you and make sure you get to grow up happy, supported, and loved

port mafia attack? oop he’s already taking you to the nearest escape route

someone is starting to harass you? they just got suckered punched into the next week

you want to go out to have some fun? he’ll go ask the president for a day off

you’re not feeling well? he’ll take another day off and take care of you

whatever you want to do, he’ll do it with you! (as long as it’s within reason)

will always be your #1 supporter! and he’s the president of your fan club hehe

he loves you so so much and will do anything for you; your life and happiness will always be more important to him

you are his reason to keep going

agency head canons !!

atsushi is your big brother, but kunikida is most definitely some sort of father figure

everyone can see it

except kunikida of course

kunikida scolds you lightly if he thinks your manners need work or if you make a mess in the agency

you listen to him of course and in turn as some sort of a reward, he’ll give you pieces of stationary

he always gives you the nice, good quality kind and you’re over the moon

atsushi adores it when you come running to him showing your new notebook or fountain pen and blabbering what you’re going to do with it

sometimes it isn’t even as a reward for being a good child; he’ll just give it to you and he’ll say smth like “i noticed you’ve used up your last notebook quite quickly, so here’s another one” or “did you run out of ink? here have this then”

he usually has a soft spot for children in general, but he most definitely has a soft spot (or a thousand) for you

yosano is kind of like a motherly figure to you

she gives you the guidance a mother should and goes on shopping trips with you!

atsushi always gets dragged along by you, but he thinks it’s worth it seeing you look so happy

yosano being a doctor also tries to teach the things you should know, or things that would be helpful to you

she’ll teach you the basics of cooking, sewing, how to treat a cold/fever, etc

also gives you excellent advice 1000% of the time

“remember (y/n)-chan if someone hurts you come tell me and then i’ll chop them into—”

“yOSANO-SENSEI DONT TELL HER THAT—”

fukuzawa is like a father to most in the agency but you see him more as a grandfather figure

bi weekly tea and gossip sessions hehe

along with cat talk!

most of the time though, it’s just you talking and him listening to you, but the two of you enjoy it nonetheless

“and then kunikida-san ended up crashing into a pole and dazai-san started to laugh at him and i did too because it was really funny but we ended up getting scolded—”

“hmm i see...”

he’ll let you stay in his office as he fills out paperwork; you’re usually doodling or drawing in your notebooks

sometimes he’ll meditate and you’ll join him, but 4/7 times you’d fall asleep

you always wake up with a blanket over you

dazai is like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

frequently takes you out with him when he ditches work

walks in the park, eating at uzumaki so he has the excuse of treating you so he doesn’t have to pay his tab avoiding kunikida and sometimes chuuya and akutagawa, all that fun stuff

also tries to not talk abt suicide in front of you especially if it’s just the two of you alone

he knows that you mean the world to his pupil and that said pupil would probably hate him for putting suicide inside your brain

he teaches you random but useful things like how to pick a lock, how to steal kunikida’s notebook if you’re looking for some information, how to sweet talk your way out of things, etc.

is also the one to tell you that if you ever get a significant other to introduce them to the agency first

he always wants all of your gossip; some of them work pretty well for blackmail

“dazai-san! dazai-san! did you know that kunikida-san lost his glasses and he was looking for them for nearly an hour when he was just holding them the entire time??”

“woah really (y/n)-chan?! hey hey can you say it again into this recording device so kunikida-kun would believe me when i tell him—”

always ends up giving kunikida a heart attack when he says that you’ve been with him all day

ranpo is also like a cool but a highly concerning and kind of high maintenance uncle

will share some of his snacks, but don’t push it or you might not get anything at all

loves it when you compliment him

if you tagged along with him and your brother on a case, he will show off to impress you

“...and that’s how the crime happened”

“UWAHH RANPO-SAN YOU’RE SO COOL”

atsushi is lowkey and kunikida is highkey stressed that ranpo’s eating habits will rub off on you

“ne (y/n)-chan do you wanna try this highly caffeinated drink and this concerning amount of sugar filled snack?”

“can i really?!”

“rANPO-SAN NO—”

ranpo definitely does stuff like that on purpose

the tanizakis are like siblings to you!

a weird set of siblings but siblings nonetheless

the two of them adore you and think you’re precious

atsushi definitely knows how to do your hair whether it’s long or short but he got even better at it when he asked the two

hehe braid trains are definitely a thing + kyouka and kenji (and maybe even dazai)

sometimes you have sibling swap days

you’re with junichiro for most of the day and atsushi is with naomi

strange i know

each of the tanizaki siblings try to make it fun bc they know that the two of you did not at all have a happy upbringing

junichiro likes spending time with you by taking you out to different places that naomi likes to frequent

like the mall, different stores and restaurants, the park, places like those

naomi does the same thing with atsushi so if you ever bump into them, you go out and eat together :)

besides atsushi, the next one in line who spoils you the most would be junichiro (and yosano & kunikida both coming in at a close third)

he honestly can’t help it; you remind him of how naomi was when she was younger

and besides

he’s always been a sucker when it came to the happiness of a little sister

“would you really buy this for me junichiro-san?!”

“of course! don’t worry about it” :)

wanna talk abt boys/girls/celebrity crushes things like that? naomi is your girl

you feel a bit embarrassed to go talking to yosano or your brother abt that and kyouka does not know a thing abt them either

“uwahh naomi-san look at all these people in this magazine! they look so good!”

“right?! but of course onii-sama is still the best—”

you get along with kenji and kyouka quite nicely being roughly the same age as them; they’re also like siblings!

just pure, wholesome vibes from the three of you

you’re over the moon when she finds out that kyouka is staying with you and your brother

atsushi is twice as happy seeing you talk your mouth off and finally having a girl around your age to talk to

“do you think demon snow can change how she looks?”

“hmm... im not sure...”

you and kenji talk abt anything and everything

he even teaches you how to take care of plants!

sometimes the two of you are kind of in the same boat bc you don’t know much abt yokohoma being stuck in the orphanage and kenji doesn’t know much abt cities in general

“wait where are we again kenji-san?”

“ah we’re close to the ports! but im not really sure how close because i don’t know what the symbols on this sign mean”

“don’t worry! neither do i!”

bonus things!

yosano was kind of too late teaching you abt you know what

“NII-SAN IM BLEEDING IN BETWEEN MY LEGS”

you’re sobbing in the agency’s bathroom and atsushi is panicking trying to get you to open the door

“Y/N?! H-HOLD ON LET ME GET YOSANO SENSEI”

ranpo overhears and cackles making everyone around him confused

suddenly atsushi bursts in the agency basically on the verge of tears rambling incoherent sentences abt the bathroom, you, and blood

it just clicked for everybody in the room

(im going to pretend that kenji has sisters back home so that atsushi is the only one who remain oblivious here hehe)

atsushi is genuinely confused and sort of concerned that no one is freaking out with him

yosano waves her hand saying smth like that she’d take care of it and junichiro pulls atsushi to the side to talk to him

fast forward like half and hour and dazai and ranpo are cackling on the looks of both of your faces

honestly not sure who’s more traumatized, you or your brother

“why does this have to happen” :(

“ne ne (y/n)-chan!~ you’re too young but at some point you’re not going to have it!”

“uwahh really dazai-san?” :D

“yeah! but first you have to have ANFK—”

next thing you know your ears are being covered by your brother and dazai is thrown across the room by kunikida

you know

the normal

you’re twelve and have never gone to school, but the agency takes care of that

it’s too dangerous to go to school so they teach you what’s necessary and whatever else they can

kunikida takes care of math (obviously)

yosano takes care of science/biology/anatomy/health (whatever you wanna call it)

ranpo even dragged poe to help you with english

atsushi even got lucy to help you out with english too!

as tanizaki and naomi used to be students, they give you their old work books and they try to teach you all the other subjects

sometimes kyouka and kenji are there learing with you too!

sorry if there’s some errors! i’ll read through it again later :)

and as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

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ancientwastedlores · 3 years

Text

Undone by “Darling”

REQUEST (from @november-solarstorms): Celebrating another year of this earth being braced by Tom Hiddleston's presence! Lol. Might I make a prompt request? I feel as though it would be interesting to read from Loki's POV to explore the dynamics between him and a human female who is just as intelligent as he. She has a sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Her sarcastic and clever nature enable her to out-banter Tony Stark, the king of snark himself (may he rest in peace). But she is also just as flirtatious and salacious. She never blushes, never falters, and is incredibly clever. You can decide the nature of their encounter. Really im just in it for a good game of cat and mouse.

A/N: Okay, I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!! And yeah, this will run a bit longer than my usual fics lol. Also, there IS a Loki POV, just keep reading thaaanks <3

WARNINGS: none.

WORD COUNT: 1,932

____________________________________________________________________

Undone by “Darling”

17 hours and 6 white chocolate mochas later, it was finally ready - an upgraded version of Corvus Glaive’s glaive, this one spec-ed out to your fancies and requirements. It was a beast, and definitely not something Nick Fury would ever let you play around with, even if you made it.

Satisfied with your work, you remove your safety goggles and grin at Stark, who is working on his own weapon he scavenged from the Black Order.

‘I’m done!’ you say triumphantly, causing him to look up and groan. ‘How did you finish before me!?’ he lowers his glasses and looks at your weapon. ‘I’m smarter’ you say. ‘I went to MIT’ ‘And I didn’t, yet here we are, both in the same lab’.

He shakes his head, not unlike a petulant child, causing you to laugh.

‘How far along are you?’ you ask. ‘Still running diagnostics’. ‘Still!?’ ‘Have you seen the size of his hammer?’ he gestures to Cull Obsidian’s chain hammer on his work table, but the innuendo doesn’t escape you and you grin at him. He facepalms. ‘Y/n, for god’s sake...’ ‘You’re just tired, or you’d appreciate the joke too’.

You stretch your weary body and let out a deep breath. You’d test the weapon out tomorrow, but for now, you need a nap.

‘Take a load off, Stark. Hammer’ll be there tomorrow’. ‘Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you...’ he puts his goggles back on and get to work.

Loki’s POV:

Humans are surprising, but I always knew that. I never thought them boring, even if my brother says I do. Humans are of so little power but such incredible resilience that it’s frankly astonishing. I am inclined to believe that sometimes resilience is just stupidity... in most cases, I am right. But that’s not to say I haven’t come across some truly brave people.

Take the Avengers Tower, for example.

Just in here, you have Y/n, a brave soldier with the mind of an intergalactic scavenger, and I do mean that as a compliment. She’s awfully clever, she can build better than Stark, and has a track record of finishing every mission to perfection and before time. And then you have the Super Soldier Steve Rogers, a big muscled, big hearted idiot who often mistakes challenging our enemies for bravery and morality.

The two couldn’t be more different, but they get along like siblings. Not siblings like Thor and I... better adjusted, perhaps.

They sit in front of me, talking about some mission while they play Chess. Her moves are quick but calculated, his take more time because he’s more interested in telling his story than playing the game.

‘...so there I am, no weapons, no shield, bang in the middle of the Serpent Citadel...’

He’s a good storyteller, I’ll give him that. But not as good as Y/n. She paints quite a picture, full of delicious gory details and horribly dark jokes.

‘Steve, you have to pay attention, you’re losing’ she says. ‘Yeah, I don’t actually know how to play chess, I just wanted you to listen to my story’.

She looks up at him, almost offended. ‘STEVE...’ ‘Cool, I’m gonna go wrap Stark into a game of Battleships and tell him about my fight with Copperhead’.

She laughs as he leaves the room, and she puts the chess pieces away.

‘We could play?’ I ask her. ‘Is the God in a mood to lose?’ ‘Over confidence isn’t attractive in anybody’. ‘Oh darling, neither is telling someone what is and isn’t attractive’.

She’s never called me that before, and in the context it should seem cutting, but it isn’t. ‘Darling?’ ‘Problem?’ ‘It’s quite a term of endearment to set someone straight’.

She says nothing.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ I tease her. She only smiles and continues putting the pieces away neatly. Stark’s chess set is gold and black, all individually carved pieces. The pawns are all Iron Man suits, but that’s to be expected. She handles them with the care Stark would.

‘I mean...’ I continue, ‘honestly, if someone heard, they’d never let you live it down’.

And she carries on, unbothered.

‘Y/n!’ ‘Oh dear, look at you come completely undone with just one term of endearment’ she comments, shutting the chess set. ‘Whatever would happen if I held your hand?’

The very thought of it seemed to drain my brain of blood. I unwillingly glanced at her hands, working the lock mechanism of the box, her blue veins prominent.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ she asked.

I stood up, the human emotion of embarrassment becoming too familiar for me. ‘I’ll have to see you at lunch’. ‘Sure, darling’.

Oh, I hate how she’s enjoying this.

----------

The next day, Y/n booked a training room to test out the Glaive, and Stark had a rusty but working chain hammer. Steve insists on trying it out anyway, and now our breakfast is being spent on discouraging him from doing that.

‘Guys... if nothing else, I’ll still have my shield. Let me test it out!’ ‘Y/n’s glaive cuts through Vibranium, you know that, right?’ Stark says. ‘Y/n wouldn’t do that’. ‘Oh yes she would’ Y/n says nonchalantly as she sinks her teeth into a bacon and egg sandwich.

As she does, the yolk runs down her fingers. She makes a sound at the inconvenience and sets the sandwich down, then grabs a napkin. I’m hardly ever crude, but the energy it took not to take her hand and lick off the yolk myself could burn every star in the galaxy.

Captain America scrunches his nose at her remark, severely offended.

‘In any case, that shield barely covers your giant body. It will force Stark to make you a new one’. ‘What do you care about his giant body’ Stark says. ‘It’s America’s ass, Tony’ she takes a sip of her iced coffee. Steve blushes, and Tony rolls his eyes.

----------

The training facility is magic, of course, somewhere between a mirror dimension and Wanda’s reality powers creating a safe cocoon inside the building so no one can be harmed. Y/n hardly trusted anybody to fight with her except Thor, but given the nature of Corvus’ Glaive, she knew magic would be required.

And so she called me.

After getting into my battle armour, I stepped into the facility, equipped with my sceptre and the teachings of the witches of Asgard.

She whistles as I walk in. ‘Trying to distract me from killing you?’ ‘Are you?’ I ask. She’s dressed in a black bodysuit, details of purple in her belt and weapon harnesses. ‘Why yes, I am. Glad you noticed’.

The glaive is on the floor, and she stomps her foot on one part of it so it swivels up and neatly places itself in her hand. She smiles.

‘Try to keep up. I’m not just looking for eye candy in a training partner, darling’ she says, getting into battle stance.

With nothing left to say for the second time this week, I aim the sceptre at her and the stone at the end glows.

She charges and I shoot at her, but she spins the glaive and creates a shield which absorbs the energy.

She continues to charge at me. I shoot again, and again the glaive takes the hit. Not a scratch on her.

Once she comes closer, she simply places the flat end of the weapon against my chest, sending me hurtling back into a wall.

She spins the glaive and laughs.

‘Compliments of Wakanda. It absorbs any hits and charges up with kinetic energy’.

I get up on my feet. This is far from over. I create multiple illusions to surround her, all of them brandishing knives, Chitauri tech, and sceptres.

‘Damn, suddenly my whole evening has opened up’ she says, looking around.

Even my clones look around at each other puzzled.

‘Come on then, who’s up?’ she spins the glaive around. ‘One at a time or all at once, baby’.

They charge at her, and I expected her to fight them off at once... instead she plants the staff on the ground and ducks, and a semi-circle shell grows from the top of the staff, down to the floor... like a mini fortress, completely impenetrable. It could, no doubt, continue to take hits and build up kinetic energy, so I call off the clones.

She gets up and retracts the shell. ‘Nanotech’ she grins at me. ‘The whole shell sits in a disk. It can withstand bombs and even a moon’. ‘Is there any tech you haven’t adopted?’ ‘I’m an intergalactic scavenger, aren’t I?’

I stare at her, horrified. Can she read minds?

‘Maybe I can. Or maybe I heard you tell Stark when he was complaining about me finishing my weapon first’.

Silence.

‘Also, darling, you’re awfully predictable in your fighting’.

She picks up every trick and tech she sees, so beating her is less about weapons and more about cunning.

No problem. Cunning is my specialty.

‘Ready now?’ she asks. ‘Mhm’.

She takes a deep breath to ready herself, her eyes shutting slightly. Once they open back up, she stares in shock.

In my Jotun form, I give her my most menacing smile.

She cocks her head to the side, studying my icy blue skin.

The illusion I cast of myself approaches behind her, dagger in hand. Once it’s close enough and I can almost taste my victory, she raises the glaive and in one swift motion, sticks it into its abdomen.

The illusion disappears into green light.

‘Cute’ she remarks. She points the glaive at me. ‘What else you got for me?’ I shift back to my Asgardian form and sigh. ‘You win’.

Y/n laughs and lowers her weapon. ‘Oh darling, I won the second you walked in wearing all that leather’. She winks at me, then walks out of the facility. I feel a blush creep to my face, much against my will.

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

‘Maybe you should stick to your guns, Tony’ Y/n says, ‘Fancy suits is it for you, chain hammers may be overshooting it’. ‘Is that what they taught you in the back alley you learnt ironmongery from?’ ‘Yes! Do you want their number, I’m sure they’ll have a spot on the waiting list for you’.

Ah. Y/n’s relationship with Stark seemed more like mine with Thor. While they banter, Steve and Natasha tear up from laughing. I wouldn’t go so far as to call this domestic, but it certainly is comfortable.

‘Come on, the glaive can’t be that good, right Loki?’ Stark asks.

The company looks at me expectantly. ‘To say her weapon isn’t good enough means to insult your own tech, Stark. Everything about it is founded on your theories’.

‘So technically, it’s my brain that made the glaive so cool’ he tells Y/n. ‘Yeah, you could say that. The glaive comes from the same mind that manufactured Captain America’s dinner plate’.

Steve doesn’t find that one funny, but Natasha does, sending her into peals of laughter.

‘Oh whatever’ Tony huffs. ‘I’m going back to the lab’.

He stands up and Y/n grabs his arm. ‘Aww Tony, I’m just kidding!’ she pats his hand, ‘Look, you’re a brilliant inventor, we all have our slow days’.

He sighs and nods, and holds her hand. ‘Thanks... I guess I’m just not in my element, you know?’ ‘Yeah...’ she keeps patting his hand.

And the feeling of domesticity creeps in. We really are all a family. Y/n smiles encouragingly at Tony, and Tony seems more relaxed.

‘So, you want me to get you the number of that ironmongery, or...?’ ‘OH FOR...’ he snatches his arm away and storms out of the room, with Steve and Nat losing it all over again.

___________________________________________________________

Ah this was so fun!!!!!!!! I hope you guys liked it <3

MASTERLIST HERE

ASK BOX OPEN FOR FIC REQUESTS. Find GUIDELINES HERE.

#loki x you #loki pov #loki x reader #loki marvel #Marvel Avengers #avengers tower #avengers fluff #tony stark #loki fanfic #loki fluff #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston birthday #fic prompts

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guessimwritingficsagain · 3 years

Text

To been seen, part Four (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Summary : You get a text. You freak out.

Author’s note : I am very very soft for Frankie.

Also, I have a few days off and I thought I have been really self-indulgent so : the cheese gift really happened to me (best birthday ever, he got me a Mont d'Or because he knew I had planned on eating one with my best friend to celebrate), the Edward Scissorchands movie thing really happened to me, and the "date" with the grandma too. In France, the Opera is often showed in movie theaters. When I was a teenager, I thought it was quite the event, though. So I got invited. Next thing we saw together with that guy was the movie Black Swan and I made sure someone was tagged along.

The holidays came and went in a blur of laughter, hot chocolate was big sweaters. You were happy. And Jessie was happy too. January came, and went, too. Everything was slow. So you watched the movie you’d bought, and a bunch of others too.

February was over before you knew it, and when March warmed up the air, you found yourself, one morning, looking at the screen of your phone like the message would disappear if you blinked. You turned your eyes to the cupboard that contained the empty box of chocolate that sat there, hidden from the sniggering remarks of Linda, and looked back at the screen. The text message was still there. You put the phone down, abruptly, fingers tingling and burning and went to get a glass of water. Your eyes landed on the bottle of wine, still unopened, and you almost spilled your drink. You went back to your phone in a hurry, opened the chat you shared with your friends and sent

Who the fuck gave Francisco fucking Morales my phone number ?????

You waited, breathing hard, hoping anyone would answer. Nothing came, not right away. Phone on the table again, you slumped on the couch, nervous breakdown on its way. You couldn’t do it, there was no way you could do that, you couldn’t, that would kill you, you wouldn’t survive this.

Time floated for a while, up until your phone vibrated and you jumped. You’d been so caught up in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed everyone had answer, Anna, Jessie and Linda with a simple « not me » but James …

James had sent a

Go get some

And an eggplant emoji.

James, then.

Okay.

You were fine. You could answer a text. You knew the drill, by now. You knew how to pretend you were not freaking out every time Frankie did something unexpected and kind, like that time he offered you chocolate and a bottle of wine for Christmas. You had coping mechanisms, now, to hide the fact you had a doctorate in yearning.

You’d replayed the Christmas Scene so many times in your head you sometimes thought you made it up, but the reminders were there, in your flat.

You’re replaying it now.

You’re getting out of your car, with ten minutes to spare before work starts. It’s almost six. You spot Frankie’s truck on the parking lot and you’re a bit surprised but mostly delighted, even more so when you see the man himself jogging towards you. It takes you a minute to see he’s holding presents. By the time he gets to you, you’re confused. He smiles a breathy hello before handing you what he’s got in his hands. You stare at the neatly wrapped packages for a bit, like the dumbass you are, unable to put two and two together. Maybe it’s for Clara ?

It must be for Clara.

You take them. Say thank you. And Frankie answers :

« Open them. »

Your braincells must have left the building like God in Supernatural, gone off to do the Macarena dance somewhere very far away because all you can answer is what and you know you sound like a dumbass and you feel like one too.

The lack of reaction is getting to Frankie, you can tell, because he’s rubbing the back of his neck and you feel bad that he’s embarrassed so you say :

« You got me presents ? »

Well, except you don’t really say it. More squeal it. Or shriek it. You’re not sure. It feels like a repeat of that moment a boy you’d liked but never made a move on offered you fucking cheese on your birthday and was all embarrassed about it and you didn’t know what to do or say because his birthday had been a few days before yours and you didn’t get him anything.

You add, for good measure, because why the hell not :

« But I didn’t get you anything. »

Like maybe he’s going to take them back, or maybe the moment is going to rewind except you don’t want it to rewind because Frankie has gifts for you, just for you.

Maybe he got something for Jessie and Anna, too ? You wonder. And Linda. You know he goes there to buy books. Maybe he showed up and got her some stuff. Not books, you hope. Stupid to buy books to a bookseller.

All of this goes through your mind and in the meanwhile Frankie’s waiting and when you finally put your bag down on the hood of your car to carefully open the first present, your body finally moving, you don’t miss the sigh of relief that escapes Frankie. It’s a box of chocolate, a fancy one at that. You recognize the brand. You hold it for a while, before you set it down with your bag and say thank you in a voice that’s way too small. You open the second one, then. Wine. White wine. Wine that you actually love. Your favorite. You wonder how he knows that.

You’re holding the bottle the way he’s holding his breath : tight. You lift your eyes to meet his and you can tell he’s embarrassed and a bit blushing. He rearranges the cap on his head and announces :

« Merry Christmas. »

You say it back, smile so big your cheeks hurt because Frankie got you presents for Christmas. You put the bottle with the rest of your stuff and then, on a whim, you throw yourself at him for a hug. He closes his arms around you, and one hand comes up right between your shoulder-blades, his thumb just here, sitting on the back of your neck, skin against skin and maybe you’re dead and in heaven right now.

You stay like this way too long and at some point you mumble against his shoulder that you really didn’t get him anything.

« It’s fine », he answers as he lets go, hands squeezing your side briefly.

You get into work late.

And now, you got a text. You opened it, read it again.

Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could take it to the next level. After all, you’d became closer to the boys over the last two months. Santi could have sent you that text, right ? That text didn’t have the word date in it. Maybe you were friends now. Frankie’d gotten you Christmas presents, after all.

So you read the words again, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you sent a yeah, sure, I’m in !

Your eyes went over his message once again, just to make sure the words would be burnt into your brain.

Hey, it’s Frankie. I know Friday’s your day off this week. I got two tickets to that new Marvel movie and one with your name on it. You in ?

You could spend two hours in a dark room with Francisco Morales right next to you. No problem. None at all.

———

He’d picked a screening that ended around seven. Your mind supplied just in time for dinner, and you kicked the two remaining braincells you had. You’d decided to drive there separately and were now sitting next to each other, you explaining the Marvel timeline and him listening intently. You were a nerd, but, him, not as much. You didn’t try to think too hard about the fact that he was doing this for you, because he was not as much into comics or movies as you were.

The whole thing was pleasant and relaxed.

This was not a date, you reminded yourself.

You got dinner after that, dissecting the movie as you ate - nothing fancy, but it was nice. The conversation shifted, at some point.

« Yeah, I get what you mean : movies are not the place to make a move. Especially when there’s a hot guy on the screen. I mean, what chance do you get when you’re watching a movie and Oscar Isaac is right there ? » Frankie laughed.

You nodded, getting another sip of your drink, and, as an afterthought, added :

« You know, Santi kinda looks like Oscar Isaac … »

Frankie grunted :

« Never, ever, tell him that. »

You promised you wouldn’t. After that, the two of you told each other stories about your worst dates, and you remembered :

« You know, when I was younger, before I met James, I hung out with a bunch of guys. I was like, fourteen, and they were sort of … beginning to understand I was a girl, you know. There was this guy, a good friend of mine, who actually told this other guy we weren’t going to see a movie. I remember, it was a special screening of Edward Scissorshands. So, my other friend never showed up and the guy told me he couldn’t make it. »

« Let me guess, the other guy told you later he thought you weren’t going ? »

You laughed.

« Yeah, basically. And then this guy I went to see the movie with invited me to a really fancy thing. It was a Wednesday afternoon, I remember. We got lunch. I didn’t pay for anything because he’d invited to come along with him and his grandma. Let me tell you : after that, I made sure to always have someone with us when he invited me somewhere. »

Frankie’s laugh was something you’d never grew tired of, you knew that.

———

Months went on, like that, with you and Frankie hanging out to see movies, and everybody showing up for Benny’s fight when you could (Jessie and you had to keep James updated, those nights, because he’d gone back to Washington after new year’s eve but wanted to know everything). Jessie had started dating a guy, at some point, and you didn’t find him that great but Will hated him.

« When are you gonna make a move ? » You asked, one evening as you were sipping beers with him at his place.

« When she doesn’t have a boyfriend dull as dishwater » He answered without missing a beat.

You knew this was the moment, then. You had two options : say nothing and let things be, or say something and get those idiots together. You thought hard, about the phrasing of your next sentence, and settled with :

« For you, she’d dump him. »

Will froze at that, just for a second, and quipped back :

« I’ll make a move when you make a move on ‘Fish. »

So that conversation was happening. You’d hoped none of the guys had noticed but obviously, at least one of them had. And you knew, by now, that his ex-wife had left him, had left Maria too. You knew he was available. You sputtered a bit and Will, kind Will, let it be. You enjoyed a nice evening with him, not once wondering why he sought you out, because Will and you didn’t hang out.

The answer came a few days later, with a simple text from Frankie.

Come over please

———

« I need you to take care of Maria », Frankie said as he opened the door. He looked really tired, like he hadn’t slept in days.

Please, he added, begging but you didn’t quite understand what he was begging for.

You complied, never stopping to think that this was the first time you saw Maria, never stopping to think about what might be possibly happening, even as Frankie went to his room, muttering apologies. It hit you when you put the girl to bed, and you remembered Frankie and the way he’d been looking at you that day, when he’d asked if they could throw a birthday party for their late friend’s daughter.

It was around that time, last year.

You walked hesitantly towards Frankie’s bedroom and stared at the white paint in it for a while. You were nervous, and actually turned around to smoke a cigarette outside, the air a bit too chilly for you, but cold enough to wake you up and give you the strength to walk to Frankie’s bedroom and knock.

So you did it.

He didn’t answer, but, feeling bold - or rather, feeling like you needed to do it - you opened the door anyway. The room was almost dark, the moonlight giving you an idea that Frankie was curled up, on his side. You put a hand on his shoulder. He put his on top of yours. You chose - you chose - to take it at a silent invitation, lifted the covers, and got, fully dressed, right next to him. Because friends do that.

———

When you woke up, he was staring at you. While your brain tried to make sense of the situation, you asked, voice heavy with sleep :

« What time is it ? »

Seven, Frankie answered. Maria’s gonna wake up soon, he added. You were too tired to say anything else, because when you’d laid down next to him you’d felt like your heart had been about to burst so you’d just listened to him, his breath steadying as he’d got to sleep. You’d finally got to sleep too, but it was too damn early for you.

Later, you’d blame what happened on your foggy brain : you snuggled closer, and Frankie let you. Then, it hit you. At that moment, right next to him, it hit you : you were not friends with him. You were pretending to be, but you were not and never would.

You couldn’t.

You wanted to wake up everyday like that, to Frankie telling you it’s seven, Maria’s gonna be awake soon. You wanted everything and friends just wouldn’t cut it.

Two things happened at once, then : you were realizing how much you liked - loved - Frankie when he gently took one of your forearm and brought it to his lips. All of the feelings hit home just as he was kissing the soft skin on your wrist and you froze.

He saw it and let go immediately, muttering apologies, while you were still processing what you felt about him. When you reached to grab him, to tell him how good that was and how wanted him to do it again, it was already too late.

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #triple frontier #Pedro Pascal x reader

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Betrothed Ch. 10 - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 10: Bewilderment

Summary: What is Illumi doing while you are searching for him?

Warnings: Violence, murder, angst.

Words: ~1900

A/N: Sorry for taking so long guys, I recently have little time left to write.

Story Masterlist

“No one is more dangerous than the insane which is calm all the time: he is like a steel bridge without flexibility, and the order of his life is rigid and brittle. A minor change can cause the functioning madman to collapse.”

There was no time to grieve.

After you had put an end to the puppet that took after your beloved husband, Okogame revealed that he in fact had cloned the entire Phantom Troupe as well.

Gladly, and much to your surprise, the spiders cleaned their own mess and assisted you and your friends in getting rid of the remaining puppets.

And ultimatively, Pretz was the one to put an end to her brother’s wrongdoings, ending both of their suffering as well.

Their deaths left you with a bitter aftertaste: Was there really no other way to end one’s madness? There had to be another way!

Kurapika had run out of strenght, which was only fortunate since him collapsing was the only thing keeping him from recklessly challenging the spiders.

So all of you stood in front of the burning chapel, only able to watch as Okogame’s sins were cleansed through the fire.

What would it take to free Illumi from the curse that was his own mind?

“Not so fast” you gnarled while your friends were still distracted by the tragic view. “Hisoka. We need to talk.”

The mage was already about to leave, yet acting all innocent. “Oh? Who do we got here? The happy bride...”

“Don’t play stupid.” Trying to act intimidating, you built yourself up in front of the much taller man. "You’re what comes closest to being a friend for him, so you must know where he is. Tell me!”

“It’s so long since we’ve first met at the Hunter Exam...” Hisoka chuckled quite amused, licking the blood from one of his playing cards. “I didn’t even know you had relationship problems.”

“Big understatement.” Hisoka’s carefree manner had gotten to you vfrom the very first moment, you had to admit. He almost managed to make you crack a smile.

“You seem to have gotten quite the control over your husband, so I thought our next meeting would be under...different circumstances. Maybe getting a drink together or even murder someone.”

“I don’t have time for your bullshit.” His eyes widened in pleasant surprise, a strangled moan escaping his throat as your knife threatened his neck. “Where. Is. He?!?”

“Oh, my...you’ve sure grown strong. Is that Illumi’s influence?”

“Yes. It is” you smiled confidently, putting the blade down again. “We may fight one day, but this is not the time.”

“Promise?” Hisoka was almost aroused at your words, imagining you and Illumi both challenging him at the same time.

“Whatever.”

“Well...” he waved the card in the air, putting it to his lips as if he was in deep thought. “He didn’t contact me, but word spreads fast. There’s a rumor about a mass murderer in Yorknew City. His only targets are assassins and other criminals. Isn’t that a coincidence?”

Your eyes immediately widened, heart painfully hammering against your chest as you imagined that he escaped his family, yet kept on taking lives.

“Lumi...”

At the same time, on the other side of the ocean, Illumi was wandering a dark alley in the poor district of Yorknew City.

Usually, he wasn’t able to dream in years, or at least it was insignitifant enough to instantly forget about it - yet ever since he had left you and his home, nightmares occured daily:

Most of the time it were especially cruel things he did on his missions, or murders he performed solely out of his own, twisted desire. Sometimes it were flashbacks about his childhood, which he actually thought to have forgotten about a long time ago.

It all re-emerged now, robbing his sleep - the last thing to keep together the fraction of his sanity.

More than often, he’d dream about you too, of course.

But you’d always only be running away from him, deeply sfrightened. And every time he reached you, without having the intention, his blood-stained hands ended your life as well, leaving him to scream and cry for his precious Y/N.

How were you doing these days, he wondered?

His conscience was calling out to him ever since he had abandoned and left you alone with his family. This wasn’t like him to act without thinking things through.

But he did, and he won’t be able to change the consequences.

“Y/N is strong. Any my family doesn’t have any use for them. They’ll be okay...”

Suddenly, a noise drang to Illumi’s sharpened senses: A weak voice, barely audible, pleading for anyone to hear.

Illumi’s feet moved on their own - maybe because of curiosity, but who knows. And only a few blocks away he found the surce of the voice: It was a stray cat, way smaller than the usual ones, due to malnutrition.

Your husband was merely a bystander, watching a man yelling at the animal that of course couldn’t respond. How odd.

“Fucking thing!” the man balled his fists, swinging them in the air. “Hey! You! Whaddaya looking at? That your cat?”

“No” was Illumi’s plain answer as he stepped into the dim street light, actually not wanting to bother himself with the situation.

“It better not be. Stole my fish at the market, and ruined the others with it’s dirty paws!”

Just when the man prepared to kick the poor animal with his boots, his leg seemed to have magically disappeared midair.

Before the amputated leg hit the ground, the merchant had already collapsed, screaming in agony as he slowly but surely bled to death.

“Here” Illumi spoke casually as he threw a piece of fabric towards the man. He always pitied his victims, at least a little bit. “Try binding off the stump to stop the bleeding. Maybe you’ll make it until an ambulance arrives.”

Already prepared to attend more important matters again, he turned around - but then he heared another, weak meow close behind.

The tiny cat couldn’t even hold itself on it’s feet, yet tried everything to follow your husband’s firm steps. It bit the fabric on his legs ever so slightly, trying to keep him from leaving so fast.

Letting out a small noise of surprise, Illumi crouched down the the cat’s heigh, eyeing it quie suspecting.

Because usually, animals were smarter than that. They had a natural instinct when it came to aura, so it was no wonder that Illumi’s constant hostility and bloodlust always drove them off - even though he actually was really fond of them.

They were easier to deal with than most humans, he thought.

The kitten was bleeding, and his left ear was slightly bitten off by another animal.

Even though it was quite the depressing view, this wouldn’t revoke any emotion inside of your husband. He had seen and did worse, and he had no affiliation with that thing.

“What would Y/N do?”

He remembered how you’d always bring home injured animals, talking about responsibility and how every life was precious somehow. That doing good deeds could make one happy without having an actual advantage from it.

To be honest, he thought it to be kind of hypocritical considering you were a goddamn assassin, but whatever.

Who was he to judge anyone’s morality anyway?

And the pet’s behaviour somehow intrigued him, so he carefully picked it up as he bid the merchant one last look.

“Oh. He died already.”

The Zoldyck family possessed safehouses all over the world, and in big cities like Yorknew City was one, several at once.

Only a few, chosen people knew about those certain locations - and since his family never really seemed to care for him anyway, he knew they wouldn’t be searching for him. And even if they wanted to find him, there was no clue where an erratic man like himself could’ve gone to, so they would take a while.

So it would be fine to use them until he had cleansed the city from all filth before he’d travel to another - even though that would take quite a while.

“Here” he mumbled, still quite unaffected by the animal’s condition as he put it down on the small sleeping cot.

There wasn’t anything else to do right now, so he could save that thing, he thought.

Trying hard to remember how you’d always patch him up, Ilumi got the first-aid kit out of the shelf and gathered a bowl of water. Only when he didn’t find anything to nurture the cat he realized that he himself hasn’t eaten in days.

“Y/N would be furious..” he thought, almost smiling while recalling how you’d always scold him for not taking care of himself enough. “Maybe I should buy some groceries.”

The cat was unusual still, considering hurt animals are more than often very defensive and on high alert. Yet that one let Illumi touch it all he wanted, even purring as he unconsciously began to pet it’s dirty but soft fur.

It was almost heartwarming to him, giving him a slight impression about what you liked so damn much about helping those weaker than yourself.

Yeah, animals were way easier to deal with.

They had no difficult emotions or morals, neither did they want you to understand them. All that was important was their natural needs, and shall you fullfill them, they’d get attached to you.

But humans were different.

Asides from his work, Illumi had spent a of his time and concentration on you and you alone. He had given you food and shelter, also basically drowning you in gifts and luxurity. And he would’ve died for your protection.

Of course it had also been his duty that you’d become a perfect assassin, yet he went very easy on you during training. In wild contrast to everything he had experienced himself, his touch was always tender and full of care.

Yes, he would’ve met every single one of your desires, and yet you were unfullfilled.

Animals seeked freedom. They don’t like being locked in cages.

Was that it?

Were you feeling the same after being locked away for such a long time, like some sort of trophy?

He just now realized that you had always listened to him: His feelings, his past, his commands...but did he ever do the same for you?

Before, just like Hisoka, Illumi was a man of the present: He would’ve never looked back. The past wasn’t worth remembering, even faces of the people he killed vanishing from his inner eye just barely after he finished them off.

And the future? He’d never thought of that.

Illumi Zoldyck was merely a tool of darkness, working with a ruthless efficiency to ensure his place in the family.

He was numb and served no other purpose...right?

But now he had an own goal: Cleanse the world from the profession of those filthy assassins - so no one would’ve to suffer as you or his siblings did.

“Oh.”

Your husband pulled his hand away after the cat softly dug it’s teeth inside of his index finger. He probably accidentally hurt it. “Sorry.”

At least he had someone to talk to, now. You knew best just how often he would rant to himself or think out loudly - and he had to remember how you told him that only very lonely people would do that, because no one has ever listened to them.

“I always told Kill he doesn’t have the qualification to make friends, but in the end it was only me...”

Illumi didn’t even bother washing the blood from today’s work from his hands, falling on the bed with his back first and staring to the bare ceiling with a broken smile.

“Moreso...I don’t deserve to be loved. I really am the worst.”

_____

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Feedback is always appreciated!

#Illumi Zoldyck #HxH #Illumi x Reader #Illumi Zoldyck x Reader #Illumi x You #Illumi Zoldyck x You #Illumi/Reader #Illumi/You #Illumi Zoldyck/Reader #Illumi Zoldyck/You #Writing #Arranged Marriage AU #Canon Divergence #Self Insert #Fanfiction

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tendertenebrosity · 3 years

Text

Next instalment of TJ and Danny’s story, set in @wildfaewhump‘s Pathverse! Direct sequel to here , you should go read that first! Masterpost can be found here.

Danny took the next exit, without even bothering to read the signs. It wasn’t as if he had a goal in mind, not anymore – if he couldn’t go to Julie’s Agency there was no point driving to her city.

He was going to have to stop soon and decide what to do. But if he just kept driving, he could put off needing to make that call for just a little longer.

The outskirts of the city slid by his window. He tried to just drive, thinking as little as possible. Trying to keep his grip on the wheel steady but not white-knuckled, trying not to let his breathing speed up and up and up until he was leaning forward in his seat and accidentally roaring along at 20 over the speed limit.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

What was he going to do?

You’re really in the shit now, Danny, he told himself. Why did you call her? Why did you think she’d understand? Before this last year, before this endless slog through court case after violent court case, melt-downs and seizures, hospitalisations and Class-A memory ‘treatments’, picking right back up and going to work again afterwards, watching TJ get thinner and shakier and more threadbare every week without ever being capable of understanding why but still quieting under Danny’s touch like it actually meant something…

Danny wouldn’t’ve understood either.

He flicked the radio on, blaring voices spouting something inane. He jumped stations a few times, looking for something with music. He found something that sounded like country, listened to that for a minute or two, before flicking it off again in annoyance.

Of course Julie didn’t understand, because this was flat-out crazy, and Danny knew it. He didn’t know how it had come to this. What had he been thinking? What did he think he was achieving? This had been a mistake, from start to finish.

“Um. Handler? Danny?”

The white line on the road jerked and veered wildly in front of Danny as he swore, curbing the impulse to whip around and look behind him.

Fucking hell. Keep it together enough to drive, will you?

He spared a glance in the mirror. Sure enough, the Path was sitting up, looking small and hunched and incongruously clean in the grubby back seat of Danny’s old car. His thin pale fingers clutched at the black seatbelt.

“Jesus, kid,” Danny snapped.

“Sorry,” TJ whispered. “Sorry, I’ll – I’ll be quiet, I’m sorry...”

“No, I - ” Danny breathed out heavily through his nose, made his hands relax on the wheel. The way TJ was lately, Danny couldn’t raise his voice without the poor sod thinking he’d done something wrong. The way he cringed from the nurses, from other handlers, from Danny himself sometimes - it made Danny think hard, vicious things about whoever had been assigned to him before.

How could I have just gone on to the next job and left him there?

He tried to make his voice light. “No, kid, not your fault,” he said. “You just, uh, startled me. Didn’t mean to wake you, we’re hours away from where we’re going yet.” For God’s sake don’t ask me where that is, I don’t fucking know.

“I was awake,” the Path said, a wispy thread of voice from the backseat. “Um. Danny?”

Danny grunted to show he was listening.

“Are you really stealing me?”

Damn it.

“How much did you hear of that?” Danny asked, his stomach sinking. He’d thought TJ was safely asleep. Idiot.

“Um. All of it,” TJ said. “You said – Danny, you said – why do you think someone’s going to kill me?”

“I – well, because…” This was stupid. Why was Danny floundering for words in front of a Path? Danny could only catch the occasional glimpse of the Path in his mirror, and blindfolded TJ wasn’t capable of looking at anything, but still he had to fight back the feeling that TJ was looking at him accusingly.

“Because you’re sick,” he settled on eventually. He blinked hard at the wavering road in front of him, resettled his grip on the steering wheel. “And… and you’ll get better if you have time, TJ, but they don’t want to give you that time. Because it isn’t… ” The end of the sentence died in his throat. Because everyone’s too busy. Because there’s a contract. Because you’re not important enough.

Because it isn’t cost-efficient.

“Did they tell you that?”

“No,” Danny said. “I just… I can see how it’s going to go. That’s all.”

“Oh.” TJ’s voice was thin, quiet. He shifted, overlarge scrubs rustling. “So… so that’s why you’re stealing me?”

Danny winced. “I’m not – TJ, stop saying that. I’m taking you to a different Agency where you’ll be taken care of properly. It’ll all be okay, all right?”

Danny wished the Path hadn’t overheard. He wished this conversation could have held off until they’d stopped; he couldn’t assess the Path’s body language. Fuck, Julie had said that word, described this as ‘stealing’, and maybe now it had stuck in TJ’s head.

He wondered what the hell went on in that head sometimes; how did a Path see the world? Not how normal people did, clearly. Obviously a Path wasn’t really capable of understanding right and wrong, and the law, and morality. But... TJ had seemed to understand a lot of the things he’d read for the court. He definitely understood what ‘stealing’ meant.

Danny was half waiting for TJ to challenge him on it. They’d worked a case a few weeks ago, theft of a car and some power tools – perhaps TJ was now going to ask Danny what made this any different, why they’d helped send that person to jail but now Danny was taking off with Agency property.

Danny sighed. No, you idiot, he thought, exasperated with himself. Poor fucking kid’s probably a bit preoccupied with the whole ‘they’ll kill you’ thing. Pull your head out of your ass.

In the end TJ said neither of those things, though.

“You’re still going to be in… in a lot of trouble,” he said instead.

Danny laughed, a harsh, coughing noise that surprised him. “Yeah, kid, probably.”

“What if you can’t find another Agency?” TJ sounded calm, reasonable.

Danny resisted the urge to swear. It’s a good fucking question, isn’t it? “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s… it’ll be fine. It’s not your problem to worry about, kid, so just - ”

Danny’s phone rang.

The sound filled up the car, irritatingly cheerful electronic trilling. Danny knew who that would be; didn’t even need to look at the display. TJ subsided into silence. Danny drummed his gloved fingers on the wheel, gritted his teeth, wished he had a cigarette or a coffee or fucking something to calm himself down with.

If Danny really intended to make a run for it, he ought to throw that phone out the window and keep on driving, he knew. People could track you with those things.

But keep on driving to where? In the end, Danny didn’t have any real idea what he was doing. And the only one around to talk to in this car was a Path.

So he took a hand off the wheel and hit the button that answered the phone.

“Danny,” Julie said, her voice filled with relief. “Thanks for picking up.”

Danny made a noncommittal noise.

“Danny, where are you?”

He glanced around. Danny hadn’t driven in this area much; he didn’t know what the street was called, or even really what suburb he was in. Not much in the way of signs to help him out, either. But did that matter? He might have answered the phone, but Danny wasn’t at the point where he was willing to give Julie either of those things.

“You’re sending people out after me,” he accused her. “The cops, or, or an Agency acquisition van.”

“Danny, I want to help you, I - ”

“If you wanted to help me you could have heard me out,” he snapped. “But you’re not going to, I can fucking tell.”

“Hey, you’re the one who hung up on me, remember?”

“Yeah, cause you weren’t listening to me!” Danny said. The scenery sped by, a patchwork of industrial-looking squat concrete blocks of buildings and what looked to be neglected empty land, filled with scrubby trees and patchy fields that were more weeds than grass. He tried to keep his voice down, keep calm, but it grated and wobbled in his ears regardless. “You didn’t have any intention of helping me with TJ, you just lied to me to shut me up when you said you would fix it.”

Julie was better at lying than she’d been before, but the seam was still visible to Danny. The point where she had just started agreeing with anything he said in an attempt to get him to do what she wanted.

“No, Danny,” she protested. “Look, Danny, I just – I don’t know this Path, okay, I don’t know what your situation is, but I want to help you. So if you want to talk about the Path, okay, let’s talk. I’m listening.”

“Talk about….” Danny glanced up to the mirror. At TJ still sitting there, turning his head this way and that. Making Danny think vaguely of a baby bird, head too big for its little neck. Listening to everything they were both saying. “Look, he’s not dangerous or anything.”

“Okay. Danny, is… is TJ…” Julie’s voice hushed, suddenly, as if she was talking about something obscene. “Danny, are we talking about the child of someone you know? Or your child? Because…”

“Wh- No!” Danny yelped. He took his eyes off the road to gape, horrified, at Julie’s name on the display for a moment. The car wavered underneath him and he dragged his eyes back up.

That was… a thought. Jesus Christ. It had somehow never occurred to him. Danny wasn’t anywhere near the point in his life where he’d be contemplating babies, but even so – even so – how had he never thought of that? That if he did, there was a non-zero chance they might be…

“I’m talking about an adult Path,” he said, to Julie, forcefully. “Not a child. He’s not related to me in any form. He’s my Path from work, just a regular assigned… fuck, you know what I mean!”

“Uh huh,” Julie said cautiously. She sounded relieved; papers shuffled again, and Danny suspected he could hear her typing something. “All right. What class is he?”

Danny let out a breath, trying to calm down. “E,” he said. “We worked in, um, Criminal Justice. The courtroom mostly, sometimes the police station.” He chewed his lip, considered and rejected two or three different sentence beginnings. “It’s fucking hard work, OK? It’s difficult, the readings are always long, and it’s bloody dark stuff sometimes, and they never….”

“Class E? OK,” Julie said, gently. “Where is, um, TJ now, Danny?”

“He’s here,” Danny said, exasperated. “I can see him right now, okay, he’s still got his blindfold on and he’s in the back seat and he’s not causing any trouble. He’s never caused any trouble, even though he’s been treated like shit.”

“He’s in the back? He can’t touch you?”

“What? No?” Danny glanced in the mirror. Still just a puzzled TJ, seatbelt done up, eyes covered, hands in his lap.

“Okay, good.” Julie started speaking rapidly, urgently. “Danny, I really really need you to pull up by the road and wait for me. Okay? You’re not going to understand why, but we did this in training, right, so I need you to trust me. You’re probably confused and that’s okay…”

“What?”

“Danny, you know that Paths can affect people’s minds - ”

“You think he got to me? You think that’s what this is about?” Danny shook his head, bottling up the stream of swearwords that wanted to escape. Julie thought that TJ was somehow making Danny do this? TJ, visibly upset by the change in routine, shaking and frightened at getting into a slightly different car, who’d been in a hospital bed with tubes everywhere and dried blood all over his face just a week ago? “You’re wrong. Dead wrong. How would that even - ”

“I know that what you’re doing probably makes perfect sense to you now,” Julie interrupted, her voice somehow managing to be both soothing and urgent. “You just have to trust me that it doesn’t, Danny, okay? You can’t rely on your instincts now.”

“Fuck’s sake, Julie - ”

“Nothing is the way it seems. It’s not your fault. You’re in the presence of a Path; they get into your head, they can make you think or feel whatever they - ”

Danny growled in frustration. He hauled on the steering wheel, hand over hand awkwardly, to navigate a turn. “Julie, cut the crap! Trying your scaremongering bullshit on me like I’m some clueless layperson? He never fucking touched me, and he’s fucking E, he’s not even capable of that!”

“Danny, you may not know as much about him as you think you do,” Julie insisted. Some of the cool soothing quality frayed away from her voice. “Come on! I know it’s hard but think. You know why we take the precautions we do, you know the damage that can be done! It’s not your fault, you’re confused. Once you tell me where you are - ”

“I’m not confused,”Danny snapped. He felt sick. If this was what Julie thought, there was no chance of this turning out all right. Not within any Agency. It didn’t make sense but had that ever mattered to Agency management? “I’ve never been confused.”

“- once I know where you are I can help you, okay? We can sort it all out, for you and TJ both, it will all - ”

“Sort it out!” Danny snarled. “Oh, yeah, sure you fucking will! I know how you’ll sort TJ out!”

“Danny - ”

“This is bullshit! I’m not going back to your goddamn cold-blooded, two-faced – uh- ”

Danny caught his breath. The metal barrier that lined the road, painted with yellow chevrons, was coming up fast – way too fast.

Fuck, there was a turn, he hadn’t seen -

He slammed his foot onto the brake pedal and wrenched the wheel to the left; metal grated and squealed in protest. The car was sliding – Danny’s seatbelt was digging painfully into his ribs as the world swung back and forth violently, and he realised in the half-second he had that the car was fish-tailing as it hurtled towards the metal barrier and the downward slope that lay beyond.

Somewhere in the background, Julie’s voice was asking something, pitched high with concern, but it was drowned out by the screeching of tires and the sound of TJ’s frightened yell from the backseat.

Danny’s car hit the barrier, and the world rolled over and over on itself in a sickening whirl that ended with a metallic crunch.

#Path Verse #TJ and Danny #Julie #sympathetic whumper #whumper to caretaker #institutionalised dehumanisation #foul language #blindfolded #reckless driving #tw: car accident #forced to work #escape attempt #cliffhanger ending

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averykedavra · 4 years

Text

alright, you asked. Cue Sanders Sides Swap AU number Five Billion! (original post here)

Morality!Remus:

He is...chaos.

Always has a huge smile on his face.

Changes his outfit every other week, but it always has a lot of flower prints and loud color schemes.

Pure energy.

Owns the room whenever he’s in it.

Has very little self-control and can sometimes come off as rude.

Makes a lot of snap judgments.

Lowkey willing to fuck up anyone who messes with his best buds.

LOVES disney

Pretends to be innocent, but makes a lot of dirty jokes while batting his eyes.

Misleading compliments for days!

“Boy, what an ass...et to your personality, am I right?” is completely him.

He’s actually really afraid of being hurt and takes things really personally.

The breakup hit him hard. He tried his best to move on but he still blamed himself for being Too Much and ruining things.

He’s more self-aware than people give him credit for. He knows sometimes he’s overbearing and hurts his friends but he doesn’t know how to stop.

On the morality side of things, he’s really loose about it. Always asking what Thomas thinks. He’s kind of afraid to be too harsh.

Best friends with Creativity!Logan and Anxiety!Roman. Argues with Logic!Janus a lot.

Intrusive Thoughts!Virgil kind of scares him from a morality perspective. And a personal perspective. He sees a lot of himself in Virgil’s exuberance and wonders if he’s really as rude and insensitive as Virgil is.

As for Deceit!Patton...things are complicated.

Creativity!Logan

Cue engineering montage from Big Hero Six.

Wears a science lab coat, his fingers are always stained with grease, his hair is ruffled from running his fingers through it.

Builds stuff. Loves robots and exploding beakers.

Gets very passionate about everything he creates.

Is lowkey the mechanic of the friendgroup and always fixes broken fridges or washing machines.

If you get him talking, he will NOT shut up. He’ll just jump from tangent to tangent for hours.

Owns a million bajillion books.

Has trouble making a good balance between his friendships and his work

Can come off as cold or disinterested when he’s really just thinking through a problem

Is a huge perfectionist.

Always tries to please everyone and reach their expectations for him. He wants everything to be nice enough for Morality!Remus, safe enough for Roman!Anxiety, and make enough sense for Logic!Janus.

Plus it has to meet his OWN standards, which means it has to be original and flawless and the best it can possibly be. And if it’s bad, then he’s failed as a person and Thomas will lose his job and die in the streets.

He may be a little OCD.

But he tears himself apart trying to meet these standards, sacrificing sleep and food, and it’s only after he finally cracks that his friends catch on.

He’s on good terms with Logic!Janus, although sometimes they argue. He’s best friends with Morality!Remus and is warming to Anxiety!Roman, though they sometimes argue. (Logan argues with a lot of people, he has a temper, especially if he hasn’t slept.)

His relationship with Intrusive Thoughts!Virgil is not great. Virgil represents all the chaos and unhinged energy he tries to avoid, and he feels that if he lets Virgil win, it’ll destroy the rules and boundaries he created. And without the limitations and expectations he’s surrounded in, he doesn’t really know who he is.

Kind of likes Deceit!Patton, though. His jokes are funny.

Anxiety!Roman

Ohhh boy.

Always has two hooked silver swords in his cloak.

‘Cause he’s ready for a fight at the slightest provocation.

Has absolutely almost taken Morality!Remus’ whole face out when he was startled.

Thomas probably has a severe anxiety disorder bc Roman has absolutely no chill.

Thinks up really imaginative scenarios in which Thomas dies or is hated by the entire world.

Insomniac.

Focuses a lot on Thomas being a Terrible Person and Hated By Everyone and Should Just Hide Before He Ruins Everything Else.

He’s accepted now, which is cool, but he’s still kinda insecure about his place in the group.

And before he was accepted? He made Thomas’ life a living nightmare.

Thomas still hasn’t fully recovered from some of the stuff Roman did.

Roman has apologized, and Thomas forgave him, but nobody can forget.

Roman has regular panic attacks. He tries not to let them affect Thomas, but it’s hard. Logic!Janus is the best at calming him down and Morality!Remus is the worst, just because he’s so overwhelming.

Jumps to all of the conclusion. He’s like a freaking frog with all the jumping he does.

Still a huge Disney nerd. Loves all the hero songs and wishes he was a hero, instead of the person born to be the villain.

Lowkey hates himself on a daily basis.

Nickname king.

He’s pretty good friends with Logic!Janus. Morality!Remus would die for him without hesitation and Roman thinks he’s a lot of fun. Him and Creativity!Logan have reached a tentative truce, but Roman always finds himself snapping at Logan. It doesn’t help that he just increases Logan’s perfectionist tendencies.

Thoughts on the Dark Sides are complicated for him. They used to be his best friends.

Now Intrusive Thoughts!Virgil is okay, kind of funny. Deceit!Patton? Can die in a fire for all he cares.

Logic!Janus.

You know that ‘um, actually’ friend? That’s Janus.

He will deliver all the knowledge with the most sass and panache possible.

Always looking for an opportunity to make the others look stupid.

Sarcasm central over here.

Can and will throw down with a bitch.

Self-care is his priority, because it’s logical to take care of yourself. This puts him in direct opposition with the others a lot, but he can handle it.

(No he can’t.)

Gladly plays devil’s advocate at every opportunity.

Debates. For. Days.

Don’t bring up paradoxes or his brain short-circuits.

Makes a million puns with a deadpan expression. No one’s quite sure how to respond to it.

Inside, he is a huge, massive dork. (And not the penis kind, Virgil.)

He really loves Disney, onesies, and fun turns of phrase.

Is really select with what he says. Always poised and ready to roll.

The few times he’s been caught off guard, nobody mentions again.

When he told his name after Morality!Remus did, Thomas laughed, and Janus is still salty about it.

He’s not that concerned with morality, so sometimes his logical suggestions include murder, arson, theft, or blackmail. They’re mostly jokes.

He’s not joking when he actually sides with Deceit!Patton on multiple occasions. Morality!Remus forgives him for it, but Janus thinks he hasn’t actually done anything wrong, and they have yet to actually talk through the growing resentment between them.

He can be a real asshole sometimes, blunt and straightforward. This makes friendship...hard.

But it’s fine. He doesn’t need friends anyway. All he needs is to keep Thomas and the others alive and successful.

He gets listened to--he wouldn’t allow anyone to ignore him--but they discount his advice more often than not.

It’s three against one, after all.

And Janus is the one nobody can stand.

(Even though he counts none of them as friends, he’s actually quite close with Anxiety!Roman and Morality!Remus. Even Creativity!Logan thinks he’s funny.)

As for the Dark Sides? They tolerate him, listen to him (especially Patton) and sometimes he wonders if he’d be better off with them instead.

Intrusive Thoughts!Virgil

Just vibing, let’s be real.

The epitome of Style (tm.) Piercings for days and always rocking killer eyeshadow.

Quotes memes on a daily basis.

Appears on top of the fridge randomly.

Way more relaxed than canon Virgil. Just having fun and living his life.

Loves conspiracies and cold cases, and reminds Thomas of them at one in the morning.

A force of chaos and does whatever he wants.

Can and will drink milk straight from the container, sit on whatever surface he wants, and respond to any complaints with “It do be like that sometimes.”

Societal conventions can go fuck themselves. If he wants to dress in fishnets and commit arson, no one can stop him.

“Vibe check,” he says and knocks Creativity!Logan out with a baseball bat.

Feral goblin child.

Wishes Logan would lighten up and give him more creative control.

His ideas are actually good! Just...not conventional. And kind of creepy sometimes. He likes horror stories.

And he does wreak havoc with intrusive thoughts, mostly the anxious and/or nihilistic kind, so Thomas isn’t inclined to let him stick around.

Deadpan and will slice into peoples’ insecurities with a glare if they try to threaten him.

“Big talk from the guy no one likes,” he says to Logic!Janus after Janus dismantles his claim that reality is an illusion.

“Why don’t you do everyone a favor and think for a fucking second about what you’re saying?” he asks Morality!Remus after Remus condemns Virgil’s ideas as mean.

“Nice to see you again,” he says with a smirk when Anxiety!Roman tries to get him to leave. “But knowing you, you’ll be back soon.”

Basically he tears into anyone who tries to force him into a mold or shut him up.

Except for Creativity!Logan. He’s always begging Logan for more power and Logan always shuts him down. Because he’s afraid of what Virgil means, afraid of how boundless creativity could affect his friends, afraid of the way Virgil can easily smash his carefully constructed standards.

Virgil really just wants the freedom to create what he wants.

And deep down, he kind of wants his brother back.

But he’s got Deceit!Patton, who thinks he’s the best thing since sliced bread, so he’s alright.

Deceit!Patton

Okay so...this is not unsympathetic Patton. But this is maybe morally grey Patton. Fair warning here. I get it if you’re uncomfortable with that. He cares deeply about the people in his life but advocates some harmful coping mechanisms and...yeah.

He’s sunny. He’s bouncy. He’s always smiling and makes the best jokes.

He’s also fucking terrifying.

He’ll silence someone with a smile. He’ll say the most terrible things in the sweetest voice. He’s outwardly kind and supportive of everyone, but there’s steel underneath that.

He can impersonate people, although he doesn’t do it very often. He prefers to simply state his objective and convince Thomas.

And Thomas isn’t used to a Side that is so nice. That takes what he says into account. That doesn’t argue with the others or call anyone names. He loves his main Sides, but Patton makes him feel heard.

So he ends up almost giving Patton way more control than he should have.

‘Cause yeah, Patton is self-preservation. But he takes that in an, um, different direction than Janus would?

He’s the lies you tell yourself to make yourself feel better.

Small stuff. “It’ll be fine. Everything’s okay. It’s not a big problem. It’ll solve itself. I don’t need to study.”

Well, it seems like small stuff. Until it piles up.

Patton creates a facade around Thomas. He doesn’t want to solve problems. He doesn’t even think himself capable of that. Instead, if he hides the problems they have to go away, right?

He’s basically King of Repression.

He’s less about preserving Thomas’ health than preserving Thomas’ happiness.

And preserving happiness isn’t helpful when someone actually needs to work through their feelings.

Patton’s pretty damn terrified of negative emotions. And although he kind of knows that Thomas can’t hide from stuff forever, he’d scraped out a fragile status quo. This stuff gets worse before it gets better, and the kind of painful honesty that Thomas would need to confront this stuff...he’s scared of that.

He doesn’t want Thomas to get hurt. He doesn’t understand that hurt is natural and a part of life. He doesn’t understand that sometimes you need to hurt in order to grow.

He’s deceptively good, kind, and alluring. It’s only after you’ve taken his route that you realize how poisonous his ideas are.

He’s working on being better. And he’s got people inclined to help. Logic!Janus disagrees with him, but enjoys his company. (Patton’s the only one who never insults him.) Creativity!Logan tolerates him. Morality!Remus disagrees with him vocally, though. And Anxiety!Roman would gladly run him through.

Thomas admits that Patton is a valid part of him. However, Patton still needs to understand the difference between protection and suffocation. Repression is bad for you, and right now, so is Patton.

However, everyone’s growing and learning. So maybe Patton has a chance to be...better.

If anyone’s interested, I could write what I think the episodes would be and how they would play out!

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luvidzy · 4 years

Text

☆ genre: fluff

☆ pairing: han jisung x reader

☆ summary: you are han jisung’s stylist. you decide to tell him some stories.

☆ word count: 1.7k

☆ listen to: sweet talk by saint motel

You smiled as you tied your hair up and pulled on your apron. You loved your job, despite the demanding schedule and the sometimes impossible standards. Make-up was your passion and you loved the boys who you worked with. It also helped that you were being paid a good amount of money doing what you loved after leaving school to become a make-up artist.

You had been styling for Stray Kids since their debut, and after two years you had gotten quite close with all of them. Your job required you to be there for all promotions, music video shoots, and tours so after a while you formed bonds with the boys since you saw each other so much.

Specifically you formed a special bond with Han Jisung, the boy that you styled the most frequently. You couldn’t quite place when you fell for him, but something about his chill sense of being, his humor, and his overall cuteness made you fall for him. Of course your dreams would never come to fruition, due to the 3 year JYP dating ban. But you were more than okay with hiding your feelings and enjoying your friendship with Jisung as just that; a friendship and nothing more.

Today was the first day of shooting photos for GO LIVE, and you and the others were up early, coffee in hands, ready to make sure that the boys were looking their best for their photos. You were busy organizing your station when the door opened and 8 boys walked in, greeting the team. You smiled as Jisung spotted you and rushed over.

“Y/N! Morning!” You smiled at the smiley and cheerful boy, gesturing for him to sit down in the seat.

“Morning Ji! Excited for your photos today?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee before grabbing the clips that would hold Han’s hair back while you did your work. Jisung nodded.

“Yep! And I know you’re gonna make me look super handsome!” He said, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You could help but laugh, cheeks flushing slightly, as you went to grab the primer to begin putting on his face.

“Well thank you for the compliments, Sungie. I will do the best I can,” you said, rubbing the primer into his skin as softly as you could. Jisung’s natural skin was already smooth and soft, so you luckily didn’t need to put too much foundation on, just enough that the flash from the cameras wouldn’t wash him out. You smiled to yourself as you rubbed the primer into his cheeks, them moving with your motions.

“Hey, Y/N! You should tell Han that story you told us the other day!” Your friend, Aly, yelled from the other side of the room where she was currently working on Hyunjin’s makeup and hair. Jisung looked up at you, a questioning glance in his eyes as you laughed at the thought.

“Oh! You wanna hear a story, Ji?” You asked. Jisung nodded happily as you went to grab the foundations you needed to make his foundation color.

“Okay. I was telling the girls the other day about how one time I was at a birthday party for one of my friends and they wanted to play hide and seek,” you began, dabbing a light coat of foundation onto the idol's face.

“Anyway, they somehow managed to convince everyone that we should play it in the dark. So my friend went through the house, turned off all the lights and began counting.” Jisung hummed as you began dusting a light coat of setting powder onto his face to keep the foundation in place and matte.

“So, naturally, I begin walking around trying to find a good place to hide. But I didn’t realize that there were stairs near where we were standing. So as I’m walking, I accidentally reach the stairs and before I know it I’m fully tumbling down the stairs,” you said, beginning the light bit of eyeshadow that Han usually wore.

“My friends hear me, obviously, and are like ‘what happened?’. So they turn on their flashlights and go looking for the noise. They see me laying at the bottom of the stairs, just staring at the ceiling in a sort of existential crisis way. And my one friend, who was the seeker, as the audacity to look at me and say,” You moved away from Han’s eyes as you looked him dead in the eyes and imitating your friend said, “‘Found you.’ I was pissed!” You exclaimed as Jisung began to laugh at your story. You smiled as the idol laughed at your stupid story, the sound of it making your heart race ever so slightly.

“They didn’t even check to see if I had a concussion! So moral of the story is I may have had a concussion and not even known,” you said as Han began to settle down again.

“Damn, that sounds like something Felix and Hyunjin would do to me,” he said, calming his breathing. You heard Felix and Hyunjin let out some grunts or groans of disapproval, which made you chuckle as you began to pull out the eyeliner and brush to continue on his eyes.

“That’s not even the worst thing my friends have done or let me do! Okay, this story is a dosey so let me prepare you for the chaos,” you said, letting Jisung pretend to take a deep breath before he nodded. You chuckled softly before moving in to continue your job.

“So, I never went to college but a lot of my friends did. So they used to invite me to go to parties with them. So my one friend invited me to go to a party with her out of nowhere. And I agreed cause I had nothing better to do. We get there and I may or may not have had a bit too much to drink,” you said, causing Jisung to snort. You grinned as you continued.

“Anyway I was drunk, and my friend comes out of one of the rooms with a bottle of something and brings it to me. She hands it to me and asks ‘Is this whiskey or perfume?’ Now I was drunk and my brain wasn’t working so I was like, the only way to figure this out is to drink it! So I take the bottle from her and I take the top off and proceed to take a hefty swing, swallow, before saying ‘it is definitely perfume.’ I had to get my stomach pumped and I didn’t go to another party for about 3 months,” you finished. Jisung was full on cackling by now, bent over and holding his stomach as he laughed. You smiled at how his laugh sounded, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. You were glad that Han found your stories amusing, even if they were slightly embarrassing to tell. You’d embarrass yourself for hours if it meant getting to hear Han’s laugh.

It wasn’t until Han finally raised his head up that you realized the error of your ways. You gasped, covering your hand with your mouth as you observed Han’s face. The laughter had caused tears to form and now there were tears running down Jisung’s face that were black with a mix of his foundation color. Jisung stopped laughing once he saw your expression and then looked to the mirror quickly. He groaned when he noticed the colored streaks on his face.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But technically this is your fault. You made me laugh too hard!” He said, causing you to hit his arm lightly. You sighed as you grabbed the makeup wipes, hoping to salvage your work.

“Hey, Y/N? Are you almost done?” Grace asked from where she stood beside Seungmin. You looked up to see the other stylists and their members were done. You waved her off.

“Almost. Go ahead, Jisung and I will be there soon!” You said, watching them nod and walk out the door. You were left alone with Jisung as you fixed his foundation and added more eyeliner to his eyes.

“Sorry about this, I didn’t know I was going to make you laugh so hard,” you said, dabbing his eye lightly. Jisung shook his head lightly, trying not to make any sudden movements.

“You’re fine. It really is my fault. Besides, I like your stories,” He grabbed your wrist to stop you and looked up at you with his big chocolate eyes, a smile playing on his face.

“Maybe you’d like to tell me more of them over a cup of coffee and a slice of cheesecake?” He asked. It took a moment for your brain to register that he was flirting with you and that he was asking you on a date. Your face turned bright red at the revelation and your heart began racing.

“But… you’re not supposed to date!” You exclaimed, trying to reason yourself out of the situation. Jisung shrugged.

“You’re right. But who said we needed to call it a date? I prefer to see it as two people who like each other getting to know one another better. Besides, my dating ban is only 3 years,” Jisung said, his voice dripping honey as he tried to convince you to go with him. You stared at him, his eyes peering into yours as you tried to figure out what to do. Finally you sighed, moving to finish his eyeliner.

“Fine. I suppose we can do that. But get ready, I’m gonna make you laugh so hard you bust a rib,” you said, a small smile on your face. Jisung cheered as you put your brushes down and took the clips out. Styling his hair ever so slightly, you stepped back.

“Okay dummy, you are ready. Now go before you’re even more late.” Jisung stood up and began to walk away before stopping. He turned around and planted a soft kiss on your cheek, before rushing out the door.

“See you later, Y/N!” He called. You stared at the door, a hand pressed to your cheek and a dazed expression on your face.

That boy would be the death of you. But you didn’t mind.

#han jisung #han jisung fluff #han jisung x reader #jisung #jisung x reader #han jisung imagine #han jisung x reader fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz #skz jisung #skz x reader

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giant-sketches · 4 years

Text

A Little Anxious

A BIG thank you to @crystalk17 for the wonderful prompt that inspired this short side. I really liked their idea and while I changed a few thing, the overall concept remains the same.

In this story the Light Sides are giant-sized and the Dark Sides are tiny-sized. Anxiety is paranoid that if he doesn’t act soon he will vanish from the mindscape and seeks out Thomas to beg for his very existence.

This story includes 3 sketches and 1 super surprise I hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 2372

Disclaimer: crying, almost being stepped on, panic, self-hate

For a long time now Anxiety had been observing the movements of the giant Light Sides as they interacted with Thomas. It always looked like a lot of fun to talk about their day smiling and laughing. He wanted to do that too, but he wasn’t like them. He was one of the tiny Dark Sides Thomas didn’t express often. Sometimes Thomas would go a long time without feeling anxious and Anxiety was beginning to feel like his presence wasn’t needed in the mindscape.

What would happen to him if he was forced to vanish completely? Would he be instantly forgotten like he never existed in the first place? Those thoughts haunted him each day as his paranoia grew into full blown panic. He had to take action! One night Anxiety formed a plan to confront the creator of the sides, Thomas, personally. Cautiously, he placed his ear to his bedroom door and listened intently. He had to make sure the coast was clear before sneaking out. Usually the sides were summoned by Thomas himself, but at times you could force a summoning by diving into his dreams.

The dream pool was located closest to Logan’s room at the end of the hallway. After confirming the hallway was void of giants, Virgil gingerly opened the door and stepped out. Before moving he looked both left and right down the hall to double check his surroundings. Then he bolted down the corridor as fast as his legs could take him. He flew right past Patton’s door and was about to pass Roman’s when two voices caused him to stop.

“I don’t see why we can’t come to a sort of compromise on this!”

“There’s nothing to compromise on is my whole point.”

It was Logic and Creativity bickering per usual. They were like cats and dogs sometimes when it came to what they thought was best for Thomas. Usually, Anxiety found their quarreling amusing, but when he was about to be stomped on not so much. The giant sides hadn’t taken notice of Anxiety standing in the hallway as Creativity started walking backwards to keep arguing with Logic, who had stopped at his door. Anxiety ducked in fear and braised himself! Shockingly as Creativity's boot reached the floor it landed beside Anxiety, barely missing him.

“We’ll continue this discussion in the morning.”

“Fine, but just know I could go on all night if need be!”

Anxiety continued to lay on the floor shaking. He was too scared to listen any further to the giant's ramblings and only stayed put until both had returned to their rooms for the night. That had been way too close. Anxiety was starting to lose his nerve about this plan of his. He was starting to regret passing up the idea of just possessing one of the giant sides like Deceit and Remus do and going to talk to Thomas in disguise. Sure he’d never done it before, but they made it look pretty easy. No, no he couldn’t do something so dubious, not when he was trying to win Thomas over. He had to be himself for this to work.

“I have to keep going...even if I’m scared, I’m more afraid of disappearing.”

Anxiety struggled to his feet, but managed to keep walking meekly towards the dream pool. Once there he jumped in without hesitation. There was no going back now. Gradually, he spread his energy outward into the surrounding environment to instigate Thomas’s lingering anxieties and cause him to wake up. Jolted awake from the sudden surge, Thomas flung himself upwards in a cold sweat.

“What was that?” he huffed.

“Sorry...that was me.”

Anxiety had succeeded in his plan and was now standing on top of Thomas’s nightstand. Thomas was stunned to see the tiny person and rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

“Am I still dreaming?”

“No, I woke you up. I’m one of your sides, Anxiety to be exact.”

Anxiety forced a smile in order to show he was friendly, but on the inside he was terrified.

“You’re my Anxiety? Why are you so small though?”

Before he could answer Thomas reached out his hands to lift Anxiety closer to his face for a better look. Anxiety flinched at the sudden movement, but he didn’t sense any hostility from Thomas and remained calm. Was this going to work? What if Thomas hated him and wouldn't listen to his plight? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. He was beginning to fall apart as all his uncertainties about his existence surfaced. Was being so close to Thomas causing him to feel vulnerable? Tears quickly flooded his face in response to these new emotions.

“Wah! What’s wrong Anxiety? There’s no need to start crying, I’m not going to hurt you or anything. You’re safe here!”

Safe? Was he really safe? He didn’t even know what that felt like. Anxiety had gone his whole life believing he was unwanted and despised. Was Thomas now telling him that wasn’t true?

“Yo-you won’t make me vanish?”

“Vanish! Of course not, you’re a part of me just like all the other sides.”

“But I thought as a Dark Side I was just a hindrance to you. After all I’m this size because you don’t express me that much.”

“Is that why? Sure it’s not very fun when those guys show up uninvited, but you’re all needed. I need to learn those hard lessons in order to be a better person. You help me do that Anxiety.”

“I-I help you?”

“Yeah, in fact you may be able to help me with something right now!”

“Really? I will if I can.”

Anxiety was happy at the mere mention of him being helpful to Thomas. He listened intently with twinkling eyes.

“Okay, so I want to help with a local production of Red Riding Hood at the park downtown, but I’m not sure what I should volunteer for. I have a background in stage management, but I also like the idea of helping make the set pieces. Logan says I should go with stage management since I have prior experience, but Roman wants me to have fun with my more creative side and help with the set. Patton says either is good, but that doesn’t really help me decide. What do you think I should do?”

That was a lot of information to take in all at once. Were those the names of the other sides? Based on their answers Anxiety could infer that Logan was most likely Logic and this Roman person was definitely Creativity. Patton must be Morality by default then. Was this what Logic and Creativity were arguing about in the hallway? He’d never heard their names before so it was a little confusing, but he thought to himself on what would be the best option.

“Are you playing a part in this production?”

While Anxiety didn’t know a whole lot about Thomas, he did know he was an aspiring actor.

“I am, I’ll be playing the part of the wolf that eats the grandmother and tricks Red Riding Hood.”

Thomas was going to play the villain, that was unexpected. Anxiety always thought of him as a hero type that saw the world in black and white. Maybe there were more grey areas then he first thought in Thomas’s mind.

“Then I think you should help out with stage management, since you might hurt yourself working with power tools or moving larger set pieces around.”

“Hmm, that’s a good point. I think I’ll do that then, thanks for your input.”

“What really? You’re actually going to go with my pick?”

“Why not, you made a clear case and stated your concerns for my safety. I appreciate that a lot.”

A strange realization swept over Anxiety’s mind. What if this whole time it was actually Anxiety keeping Thomas safe and not the other way around? An immense feeling of relief caused him to laugh out loud at his own stupidity. There had never once been anything to fear, it was all in his head.

“I’m such an idiot! This whole time I’ve been so afraid you hated me and was going to get rid of me. I was trying so hard to not cause you any problems that it slowly drove me crazy.”

“Anxiety, I had no idea you were so stressed out over this. No matter what you have a place here. You keep me safe from danger, help me proceed cautiously in risky situations, and make it so I can deal with new forms of stress. I’m sorry I’ve been holding you back, but I think more than ever I need you.”

“To be needed is all I’ve ever wanted!” he mumbled through his tears.

Gently Thomas lifted Anxiety to his face and had him hug his nose. All those feelings of love, appreciation, and kindness washed over him as he giggled nervously. Anxiety had no idea how to deal with such an overwhelming flood of tender emotions, but he definitely enjoyed the sensation.

“Welcome to the family Anxiety! How about I summon the others and you say hello to all of them?”

Anxiety shivered slightly at the notion of being surrounded by giants, but he trusted Thomas. He also knew he’d have to introduce himself at some point if he was going to be sticking around.

“O-okay…”

Instantly, the other sides appeared in the room. Anxiety found it funny seeing them all in their pajamas and chuckled a bit. The sound quickly caught the attention of Morality who was completely amazed at the sight of the tiny side.

“Oh my gosh who is that?!”

Unfortunately, the sudden shouting frightened Anxiety and made him scurry towards the back of Thomas’s hands. He knew the giant side didn’t mean him any harm, but that was way too loud!

“Hang on Patton, you’re scaring him. You need to calm down and speak softly.”

“Oh I’m sorry kiddo, I didn’t mean too. I’m friendly, see?”

Patton displayed a soft smile of reassurance and Anxiety sheepishly uncurled himself and walked closer to the edge of Thomas’s hand.

“I’m Anxiety. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Anxiety? Isn’t he one of those Dark Sides. What is he doing here?”

“Well you see he was worried I might make him vanish so he came to talk to me about it.”

“Vanish him?! Anxiety, there’s no way Thomas would ever do something like that.”

“Indeed, Thomas understands that all sides, big and small are necessary for him to have a healthy mindset.”

“Yeah kiddo, you’re safe here.”

“I-I know that now.”

“That’s a relief to hear.”

“Yep, he even helped me decide on what to volunteer for, for the show.”

“Interesting, what did you decide on then Thomas?”

“Yes, yes tell us!”

“I’m going to be helping with stage management after all.”

“What!? B-but wouldn’t making props be more fun then stuffy management?”

“Now Roman, Thomas has made up his mind and we need to respect that.”

“Ugh, I know Patton, but that means Logan wins.”

“Roman, Anxiety was the one who helped me choose, not just Logan. Also this isn’t a competition.”

“Ack! Oh, you’re right. I apologize. May I at least know what Anxiety said to make you go with that choice?”

“I first asked if he was also going to act in the play and he said yes. Then I thought about how it would be bad if he got hurt while moving props around or building them since power tools can be dangerous if you don’t know how to handle them properly. Thus, I believed stage management was the better option to keep him in the best possible shape for his performance.”

Silence filled the room as the giant sides had gone quiet. Anxiety could feel the tension rising and grew worried that he may have stepped over the line somehow. Suddenly, multiple cheers were directed towards him,

“Tha-that’s genius!”

“Wha-”

“A similar, but different perspective then my own. I’m impressed.”

“Huh?”

“Anxiety, I’ve missed judged you! At first I thought you were like that robot over there, but you really do care about Thomas’s well-being the same as I.”

Anxiety had no idea how to respond to this amount of praise. All he did was speak his opinion.

“I hope now you see how needed you truly are here Anxiety.”

Anxiety blushed.

“Yeah, it’s a lot to handle though.”

“You’ll get used to it. Anyway, I want you all to introduce yourselves to our new family member here. Would you be okay with each of them holding you for their introductions?”

“I don’t mind. As long as none of them drop me.”

“It’ll be just fine. Here you go Patton, you first.”

Slowly Patton cupped his hands together and placed them in front of Thomas’s in order for Anxiety to walk across.

“Hey there kiddo, my name's Patton and I’m Thomas’s Morality. I look forward to working with you!”

Patton was so warm, he wasn’t anything like his counterpart Deceit.

“Now Roman.”

Roman mimicked Patton’s movements from before.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Anxiety. My name is Prince Roman, but for friends Roman is just fine. I make up Thomas’s Creativity.”

This one was Remus’s brother, but comparatively he was a lot nicer and cleaner.

“Last we have Logan.”

Following suit yet again Anxiety felt the most nervous about this one. His eyes were cold and his demeanor was rigid.

“Hello Anxiety, it’s nice to finally meet you. My name is Logan and I’m Thomas’s Logic. I want you to know I look forward to your company.”

A small smile crept on Logan’s face as he handed Anxiety back over to Thomas’s hands.

“From now on you’re one of us Anxiety.”

Leaning down Thomas placed a kiss on Anxeity’s head. He giggled with embarrassment. Not in his wildest dreams did he think he’d ever find his place in Thomas’s mind, but now he was also a part of his heart too. Overtime Anxiety enjoyed hanging with his new family and grew into his role.

“Hey Virgil, hurry it up. Thomas needs to see us right away!”

“Coming.” he said as he grabbed onto Roman’s hand.

The End

@thought-u-said-dragon-queen

The tag list is just starting for my short sides, so if you’d like to be added just send an ask or comment on this post. Thank you again for reading!

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kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 3 years

Note

Okay feel free to ignore this if you want it’s kinda just a huge rant thing about me thinking that my brothers might be racist so uh yeah, debated on being on anon for thsi or not for like ten minutes cause there some real personal stuff here. Kinda been bottling this up for a while and for some reason you seem like a good person to tell it to.

Tw cursing btw

So I’m white, might be a little sprinkle of Cuban but honestly have no idea besides that I’m white as hecc. I have four brothers, I’m also adopted, but because when I was adopted my biological brother wasn’t adopted too because he was already a adult. But my biological brother (just gonna call him bb if I refer to him again) is not white, we have different dads. I’m very much white and he’s black? I don’t really know, never asked and didn’t really see it as something important. I love him for him, his skin color never mattered in that. But if I had to describe it he’s a lighter black, maybe Arabic or Cuban? And most of my friends throughout my whole time living where I do, most of my friends are black, or Hispanic. So, as you can assume, I have lots of sympathy for POC. I have no idea what it’s like and try to support my friend any time they are put down for their skin color. (I may or may not have punch a kid once cause he said a friend of mine was disgusting and should “go back to her sick country” cause she’s a Muslim, apparently the kids grandpa died in 9/11 so liek I guess I can see where it’s from but like, dude……)

So I have three other brother, live with two of them cause the other moved out for college. So, now to the two brother might be racist part. Prepare to be pissed off 👍 /hj . So, when all the protests started at the begging of quarantine, my family talked a bit about it cause we had nothing else to do.

and these two straight, cis, white teens had the damn arrogance to BOTH say that they were “bullied for being white” and yeah, one of them was bullied very bad as a kid, but like??????? No?????? Just, no????? You are a cisgender white straight man????????? Who is considered attractive by most of your peers?????? YOU ARE NOT BULLIED, THERE MIGHT HAVE BEEN TIME WHERE SOMEONE TRIED TO SHAKE SOME SENSE INTO YOUR ASS THAT YOU LITERALLY ARE THE MOST PRIVILEGED PEOPLE IN AMERICA SINCE THE FUCKING BEGINNING AND YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO SAY THAT YOUR MADE FUN IF FOR IT??????? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?????

And MY shy ass didn’t say a damn thing because “it’s not my place to talk, I’m white as heck and have never been made fun of for being white”

And also, “racism it’s the even a big thing anymore”??????? PISSES ME OFF WHEN EVER I THINK OF IT TO NO END

Like, first of all, IF THERE ARE PROTESTS AND PEOPLE ARE BEING KILLED FOR BEING BLACK THEN I THINK RACISM IS STILL A THING !!!!!

Second, YOU ARE A MAN, A CISGENDER MAN!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!!! MEANWHILE AT THE TIME I WAS STILL CLOSETED SO YOUR SAYING THIS SHIT IN FRONT OF YOUR “SISTER” WHO HAS SAID THAT “SHE” WAS PUT DOWN A NUMBER OF TIMES FOR BEING BIOGRAPHICALLY FEMALE BY BOYS WHO THREW ROCKS AT GIRLS IN FIRST GRADE????? WHO LITERALLY HAS A SCAR FROM A SHARP ROCK THAT WAS THROWN AT MY BACK BY SOME KID IN FIRST GRADE???????

THIRD, YOU ARE CIS GENDER!!!! Hey hey hey, buddy, imagine not being able to go outside without worrying that you’ll get killed while walking to the dollar tree because you drew a non-binary flag on your arm the other day and couldn’t rub it off!!!!! How great does that sound :D /s

Fourth, you are STRAIGHT!!!!!!! BEING THE GAY ONE IN THE FAMILY IS KINDA HARD! And then how much it hurt seeing them make jokes about slapping each other’s asses, and making fun of a kid cause he sounded gay (who literally became homophobic because of it, as a kid he was supportive of it, but now is sorta homophobic because he’s straight and has been made fun of for people thinking he’s gay), TOOK THE “pedophiles are being added to LGBT” FUCKING SERIOUSLY

LIKE, I WASN’T OUT AT THE TIME AND THEY STOPPED MAKING JOKES LIKE THAT AFTER I TOLD THEM, BUT THEY ARE SO HORRIBLE SOMETIMES I SWEAR!!!! I AHVE NO IDEA HOW YHEY GREW TO BE LIEK THIS BECAUSE MY MOM ALWAYS TELLS THEM TO FUCKING STOP BECAUSE ITS OFFENSIVE AND RUDE, AND MY DAD SHOWS THAT HE DOENST LIEK IT EITHER

so that’s my Ted talk, moral of the story, if your a straight white cisgender man stop complaining about it.

tw: racism, homophobia, transphobia

THAT SH!T PISSES ME OFF WTF

(DISCLAIMER: okay y’all, to be clear: i’m in no way bashing anyone who’s straight or cisgender. this is talking about the topic in general and how people have negative influences on others, but it’s not directly related to them being white, straight, and cis-- it’s about the way that they’re handling it and how immature those people are. please don’t be offended if you fit into any of those categories.)

okok, thanks for letting me know all of this info boo! just wanted to let you know that you’re one heck of an amazing person and i think you’re so so strong for still being here. so pls oml, GIVE YOURSELF A PAT ON THE BACK BECAUSE YOU DESERVE IT! and hey, despite all you’ve been through, i can’t stress HOW thankful i am that you haven’t let it get to you. you’re not a cold-hearted and rude person and that just fills me with so much love for you because that’s just such a beautiful thing.

BUT NOW.

THE BROTHERS.

BAE I AM SO SORRY.

now now i’m supposed to be loving and kind to everyone, but this- i- i don’t know how to sugarcoat this.

they are white.

they are cisgender.

and they are men, straight men, at that.

AND THEY HAVE THE AUDACITY TO SAY THAT THEY’VE BEEN BULLIED FOR BEING WHITE??

I JUST BLACKED OUT FOR A SECOND THERE

LISTEN, I KNOW THERE’S BEEN A LOT OF DISCRIMINATION LATELY. THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A VERY SWEET, KIND, AMAZING WHITE GUY GAL OR NONBINARY PAL SAYING THAT THEY GOT BULLIED IN GENERAL? THAT’S OKAY, COMPLETELY OKAY.

BUT IF THEY HAVE ALREADY CROSSED THE LINE MULTIPLE TIMES AND THEN CHOSE TO THINK ABOUT THEMSELVES FOR “being white??” like honey come again, what did they say?? like did someone go to you and say, “yooooo guys, i’m white!” and use their fingers to make their eyes bigger? and yet it’s okay when you, you stupid cis white straight man make your eyes smaller and say “ch*ng ch*ng” and sing it to a bunch of asian kids?? is that what it is to you?

CHERRY I AM SO SORRY WTF THAT MUST BE TERRIBLE

and then.

i am trying so very hard not to scream rn because i can FEEL your pain through this ask.

and tHEN THEY SAY “racism isn’t a big thing anymore.”

...i’m sorry, did i hear you correctly?

racism isn’t a big thing anymore?

RACISM ISN’T A BIG THING ANYMORE???

RIGHT, RIGHT, HOW ABOUT YOU TELL THAT TO THE MILLIONS OF PEOPLE WHO FOUGHT FOR BLM AND ASIAN LIVES AS THEY SCREAMED FOR JUSTICE?? HOW ABOUT YOU TELL THAT TO THE PEOPLE WHO’VE BEEN MURDERED JUST FOR BEING IN THEIR OWN SKIN?? HOW ABOUT YOU TELL THAT TO THE PEOPLE WHO’VE LOST FAMILY AND FRIENDS BECAUSE THEY WERE JUST BEING HUMAN.

AND THEN THEY DON’T RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS??

i’m literally about to cry right now, that’s so messed up

AND I AM SO SORRY ON BEHALF OF WHAT YOU’RE GOING THROUGH, THIS MUST BE SO ROUGH RIGHT NOW AND I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TERRIBLE THIS MUST BE FOR WHAT YOU’RE GOING THROUGH.

BUT YOU

ARE

STRONG

AMAZING

OVERLORD

AND I AM VERY VERY PROUD OF YOU

FOR FIGHTING AND CONTINUING TO BE KIND TO OTHERS

ILY VERY MUCH AND I THINK YOU’RE A NEAT PERSON, REMEMBER THAT YOU ARE VALID. YOU ARE SO VALID. ILY.

#ellie rants #kme: kirishima-my-beloved

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painted-crow · 4 years

Text

Submission time!

-----------

Primary mess

Hello!

So, can I ask you to say what you think? Once you said it would be convenient to put some ambivalent and vehement answers in the asks about sorting. Can I ask you to look at these and say what you think if and when you're not to busy and if you even care. It's okay if you don't, I get that this is kind of invading you time and space.

Ambivalent answers - (the strongest ones):

What's your top priority?

This one could go to vehement answers too. The ‘myself and my family’ answer makes me feel like I’m a bad person, because I know if I’ll choose this one it would be a lie. Though I don’t really have goals per se, and the things I do care about you could probably add to the ‘myself’ category, it’s more focused outside of myself. I want things, to have and achieve, though I’m more lazy than ambitious, but to reach something outside myself is more important than to care, value that self. Like, for me a so called goal could be that I want to read a book today, or a goal to make a delicious dinner.

Would you lie to an acquaintance to save their peace of mind? Would it make you feel grimy to do it?

I hate to hold information from someone. I hate to be seen as dumb and unreasonable, so the thought of someone hiding information from me when I need it or when I’m making a decision.... I hate it if someone tried to use or manipulate me. Maybe it's this, or it's just the simple fact that I would feel a bit icky, just because. I don't know if this is the reason, but it would bother me a little, but I'd do it. But then again, if I had to lie to save myself from someone, not physically I mean, but emotionally and just to safe myself some trouble, especially if somethings is unreasonable and imposing hard rules, I wound’t feel bad about it. I’d be really afraid what would happen if they'd find out that I lied and how much trouble I’d be in.

You're at a crossroads in your life. You've made your pro-con lists. You've talked to people you respect. Choice A looks like the right choice. It's the one everything is telling you is the right choice-- your lists and your advisers tell you it's the right choice, but it just feels wrong. So you choose Choice B.

Oh I'd love to feel and listen to something like this/ Yes, I would be so afraid of everything that could come after that, and this could make me feel bad, afraid, stupid, a moron. And this is where I come about the next answer — what if it wasn’t the right choice, what if it was selfish and come back burning my life down to the ground? In this one I could also mention the first question — do you listen to your community when they disagree with you? Of course, I do, what if I'm not seeing something? I know that whatever I feel and have inside, it's my biases and nothing more. That's what feels as a Ravenclaw Primary for me. Going back to the original point... Who are you to choose what made you feel better is also an option. This is especially why I don't like and don't understand Gryffindor Primaries. There are just so many situations where you really can't choose what you feel, it is wrong. But the truth is, my feelings can be that strong, I know that. The ‘I made a choice’ answer never made me think about it.

Would you feel worse abandoning a stranger in need or turning your back on your closest friend?

This one is hard. Rather than a friend I'd put a family member here, and I'd still wouldn't know the answer. I know that I'll probably be there with my family member, but I maybe would feel a bit sad and mad that the world is in such shape, that I can't really help someone. I think that turning my back on my closest friend or family member is not that bad, like it might be their wish or something, but if they would both need help, it would kill me. It's okay if a person is a figure, a fact, an imaginary person you need to learn first aid to help or something, it's not that important (it is, of course), but something in my mind wonders why should I? Why should I prioritize a person, a stranger I never met, who is a fictional character in these stories of things I should know for them? Would you help me, my family? Or would you run? Would you blame me for something? Would you let my life crumble and brake it yourself? But when a person is in front of you, that's a different story completely.

Vehement answers:

Does your internal moral compass know something you don’t?

This one’s weird but only because of the answers. It’s true that it’s just a bundle of biases, but it’s also true that you can’t separate me and it that easily with one sentence. I’ll still listen to it if I can, if my situation allows it.

Does disagreeing with your closest friends about something important to you make you love them less?

It's hard to really disagree on something so important, as I really take these things in mind when I'm choosing friends, when I'm choosing who to allow into my life. ‘It matters what they do not what they think.’ Or I'd loose a bit of respect. As long as our views won’t hurt and go against each other, it’s okay. Just as long as these are not hurting anyone, we might be good. But that involves me too. I loose a little faith in you if you leave me after you told me you'll help me, if you can't see that I need you and in what situation I'm in. If I have to lie to you, what's the point in this relationship? It's about two people sharing who they are and their minds and life experience, if I feel in some kind of way you'll see it as bad, broken, not interesting, I don't want to have you around. Honestly, if I'm a Slytherin Primary, my friends are not where you'd see it. I know what people can do and I'll never give so much power to a friend.

You can’t help everyone in the world who needs it, but you wish you could.

Sometimes I do wish I could help everyone, other times I don’t, it might depend on my mood. I know I want to save all the animals, to me, if I'd be a Hufflepuff Primary, they'd be like plants to Poison Ivy — I can see the pain, I can see helplessness, and I know it's not their fault but ours and the world that they were born in. But I think that's universal, although I knew people who don't feel any empathy to animals and that's so strange. You can be afraid or annoyed by them, but not see them as things. But I'll easily choose ‘I can live with the fact that I’m helping (when I can and) everyone I can (at that moment)’.

Which of these statements is more true for you?

This one is a no brainier. ‘At the end of the day, some things are right and some things are wrong. You don't turn your back on the people you love.’

When you sit down and consider the terrifying lack of objective truth in our reality, how do you feel?

I’d like to say when I think about it, when I think about it making decisions, it’s awful. There is nothing actual and true in this world, you, me, we can do whatever, and the only thing there is, is the systems that humans laid out.

Would you rather be truthful or kind?

This one’s easy and I don’t really see the difference. It’s either ‘why can’t I be both’ or ‘if you make me choose, I’d want to be kind’. They are both true. If you really really made me choose, that it’s kindness, if not, than it be nice to be both. I put it here just because I think to me it means the same thing.

The most important things in my world and my life are the people I love.

Now this one is the question I hate the most, together with the top priority question. Because no, people I love are not the most important things in my world. I’d lie if I’d say that. I have no idea what is the most important thing, maybe it’s just all about me and what I want, but it’s not the people I love. I will probably almost stand by them, I'd be devastated if I had to lose them, if I couldn't help them or would be made by someone to turn my back on them. It’s not a choice for me, but it’s not the same for me as what this question is asking about. Nothing is THAT important to call it the most important thing, I’m just getting by, day by day.

Do you think you're a good person?

My answer should be ‘No, I don’t’, but there isn’t anything like that. I’d usually go with the ‘No one’s a good person. I tried’, although I don’t resonate with the 'tried' part. I don't really think about it, about being a good person, but I know I'm not one. (Define good is a very nice answer, but I don’t ‘feel’ like it.)

Loving people is a lot of trouble.

True. They are not worth it, but I have no other choice, no other possibility. That's just how it is.

When you forgive someone who has wronged you or others, do you do it because you believe they’ve changed?

I don't believe people change, that's Gryffindor of me. I think deep down they stay the same, the principles that they do things stays the same, they just learn to hide them, deal with them, their impulses and thoughts. I don't forgive, I don't forget. I something happened that big to remind me of this, why would I forgive anyone who wronged me? I don't have energy and time for someone like this.

Oh my god this is so long! If you want, please ignore this. But if you're a bit curious, I'm so thankful.

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

Hello there!

I think you're a Stripped Gryff. You distrust yourself, you seem pretty nihilistic, and you keep going back and forth about your views on loyalty and people. Loyalty is important to you but you feel weird about prioritizing it.

You might be modelling Slytherin. You might even be modelling Petrified Slytherin? I'm not 100% on that one way or the other.

I don't think you're a Ravenclaw. There's just not that much about a system here, and the inconsistent way you feel about Loyalist values would REALLY bother a Ravenclaw. The whole post would be about you picking that apart if you were.

I don't think you're a Hufflepuff, burned or otherwise. I think you're empathetic but exhausted, and trying to protect yourself.

It's like you're really really done with people, but then in the moment, you do care and it feels right to act on that... but you've maybe been hurt enough times that you're pretty jaded about the whole situation.

It sounds like you think you only value and prioritize yourself, but then you keep mentioning little bits of your ideals, and they feel very much like Felt ideals.

I think loyalty is coded as good to your Gryffindor compass. You don't trust it, but you can't let it go--maybe it's one of the few ideals that's still hanging in there.

I don't think you're a Slytherin, burned or otherwise--because not trusting people or not having people you trust would bother you if you were.

I think you seem more unsettled by the lack of solid ideals to strive for: your loved ones aren't the most important thing to you, but you don't know what is, and that seems to bother you more than the things that would bother other burned Primaries.

You wish you had more truth to grab on to, but you seem more resigned than a Fallen Ravenclaw (who tend to be a little... er... desperate?). You don't seem terribly upset about not having a community or not being able to help everyone. You're really ambivalent about loyalty, but not in an "I wish I could trust someone--the core of my life is missing" kind of Slytherin way.

You want a cause--something outside of yourself that's worth striving for. Right now maybe you feel like you don't have that kind of energy or motivation, but I think it would make you feel better to know that a worthy cause exists somewhere and that you could, even just in small ways, be part of it.

Anyway, that's my two cents! Hope that helps ^^

#sortinghatchats #burned gryffindor primary #sorting yourself #asks #paint speaks #submission

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blooddrop-palace · 4 years

Text

Project Updates - What to Look Forward To

<3 Hello all! I've realized (humbly) that I have a small following of very nice people that seem quite interested in what I've written so far, and after seeing some mutuals post update-status posts, I thought I should share what's going on with my projects, also. (Thanks for the encouragement, @queenmuzz!)

Updated Dec-10-20

Sons of Fortune

Probably somehow my main focus now, though I am steadily working on other works. Currently working on the “In Between” special short before I start on Chapter 12.

I would also like to talk a little bit about my plans for this story: if anyone has paid attention to this story's tags, yes, I am touching up on the plots of most of the games. In fact, all of them, and the anime. (I already dealt with DMC4. No, I will not tear apart Fortuna lol.) Not all relevant tags are in, yet, because small spoilers. It looks like it's going to be a long while before I even get to the Temen-ni-gru, though. (There is a reason why that event is getting pushed back.) I want to have fun with the family fluff that is the twins each learning how to parent, first.

Hell Froze Over, and We Shall Reignite It

The drama of it all! Dante and Vergil are finally back from Hell, and Nero doesn’t even know his mother is now standing right in front of him. Meanwhile, even I’m anticipating seen how Snow and Dante is going to handle the obvious things currently unsaid... and I have a feeling a small measure of stupidity is still going to be involved.

Current chapter progress: Outline complete.

It's going to feel so interesting, shifting from "Fortune" back to Reignite. I get to write Sera and Vergil falling in love all over again, with a different set of circumstances. Whoa.

And, and... Nero meeting Sera... odd that I'm saying this as the writer, but I have a "I hope he likes his mom" feeling going on.

Also, no doubt Dante's brain is going to 404 when he sees Snow.

Nico prepares popcorn.

This is Not an Office Rom-Com

I have... about 8 new skits planned out. Nothing more written just yet.

That’s all I’m saying about this for now. =P

Hierarchy of Kings

Purely indulgent M/M romance of Vergil and an OC, existing all thanks to

@wordborne

Working on chapter 2.

I know I said 3 chapters only. I might have lied depending on how much I want to write. It's supposed to be just... awkward fluff of a listless part-devil who somewhat-recently lost his mate, got in a bit of a tiff with his brother, and now his children are trying to set him up with the prospective-king-of-hell, Vergil.

I think about this one a lot but I haven't written anything new for it yet, only because "Fortune" is taking over my life right now, haha.

Through the Lens of the Beholder

Okay, so...This story has no real plot. As a result, my drive for it is purely down to "if I think of a badass or cool photograph to describe." There is a TINY bit of plot. Only a little. And I don't know when I'll update. But this is why I'm trying not to START new projects. Four is a lot already! But because this one is supposed to be simpler than the other two, I will most likely finish this one before the others, so I can open a new project.

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

Speaking of new projects... Here are things ideas bouncing through my head:

- I still have a prompt from @maybeishouldwait sitting in my inbox. I WILL have it done one day, when I find the perfect way to write it.

A whole, entirely royally late set of Dadgil week fics. Yep. I want to write them. They just won’t be on time.

Written in Ink

A plot-less post-DMC5 story.

I say plot-less. There is a plot. The plot is:

Dante: Damn it, Verge, are you trying to turn my office into a zoo??

In which Vergil compulsively starts contracting strong demons he's defeated, left and right, because he's discovered "the joy of pets." The demons all take on a dark animistic form and things get wild.

A Persona and DMC fusion/AU

I have no title for this yet, and I absolutely cannot start this one until I have finished one of my other big projects. This one will take a lot of big planning, because I am making a new plot, using the mechanics of Persona, with DMC characters and setup.

What I want to write, is a teenage Nero as the protagonist, trying to solve a mystery... probably starting with the sudden disappearance of his mother. (Most likely Sera.) And he meets a lot of "new" people, and even finds new family... and yes, he will find his dad. (I'm thinking he'll know about Vergil, though. At least in name and a photo? Isn't that an interesting difference?)

For those of you not familiar with Persona, the major theme I really want to play with is that of the protagonist growing as a person (and in power) by befriending different people that helps them grow as a person. Each party member and important NPC is represented by a Tarot Card, signifying the type of journey the protagonist (The Fool) "embarks" with that character. There is growth in both the protagonist and that characters.

Again, this is ambitious to try and pull off... but it's in the back of my head. I'll focus on it once I've cleared some other stuff.

Sugar Sweet

A somewhat short-chapter series reader fic... of a surgeon/doctor!reader (barely 30 and good at what you do) who often saves the lives of shady people (e.g. mafia) because you care about saving lives, not the politics. But you do make good money out of it. (Hey, you gotta be at least a bit morally ambiguous if you're going to deal with devils.)

You meet one mess of a young mercenary named Dante, who is totally not human and deals with things like having bullets healed into his back, and he can't reach them to cut them out.

Dante doesn't care about bills for his office, or a lot of the debts in his life. You don't know where his money is going, or if he even makes much money at all (for the kind of specialty work he does? Money's going somewhere, but that's none of your business.)

You won't pay Dante's bills, or his debts, but he will accept pizza and ice cream. And new parts for his jukebox. And maybe a motorcycle. Or a new coat. Or a new car...

And you might complain to him about your dumb patients. Or just listen to him talk about his job. Or you two watch a movie together.

And this just continues. For years.

Tokusatsu DMC fusion/AU

So. First thing's first: I'm a big fan of Sentai/Tokusatsu. What is that, you might ask? It's a Japanese genre, and if you're familiar with Power Rangers, that's derived from Sentai.

Basically: Masked heroes with transformation gadgets, sometimes with motorcycles, fighting against evil. ("Magical girls" but strictly the opposite, a lot more physical combat involved, may involve upgrade gadgets, and not strictly limited to male heroes though mostly a male cast. Also not strictly for male-only audience. Girls like the eye-candy, too. :eyes-emoji:)

Why am I thinking about this?

Because I have found out that: Vergil's VA, Dan Southworth, was the Quantum Ranger (WHICH WAS RED). Nero's VA, Johnny Yong Bosch, was a Black Ranger and a Green Ranger.

...And Dante's VA, Reuben Langdon, had a role in a Japanese Toku show as "B-Fighter Yanma" forever ago???? (HE WAS BLUE!!)

What am I going to do with this info? I'll let you know later. But my Sentai/Toku-loving little heart is about to burst with hyperfixation overlap.

If I ever write this out, expect it to be just as cheesy as an actual Kamen Rider show. Or, at the very least, expect some art. I love Kamen Rider stuff!

Family Fantasy MMO

Snow introduces Dante, Vergil, Nero, and Kyrie to Final Fantasy 14 (because that’s the MMO I play) for family bonding. Yep. Mainly for silly indulgence.

Stardew Valley Visit

Post DMC5, Vergil and Dante accidentally end up going on a vacation when they try to leave Hell. No pairing with the farmer, but instead just a relaxing and somewhat introspective moment of the boys being stuck with most of their power temporarily sealed, learning how to take care of a farm, and maybe do a bit of healing by interacting with the townsfolk while they try to find out where their swords went and how to get home.

Re-Colourize

Otherwise what I would call the “re-colour of Nero and Snow” AU.

What if Vergil was found by Kassy’s family and raised among them? What if Dante ended up briefly in Fortuna and then convinced Sera to run away from the island?

What if we have a Nero who, though brash, is outwardly more soft and open-hearted, and has red-orange and gold colours instead? What if we have a Snow who is named Chiyuki, who wields her katana more like Vergil does, and has a more ice-queen aura about her, and has a teal and blue colouring about her?

This is my excuse to switch up the pairings, but also write Vergil being taught to fight more like an assassin.

Raised by the Blade

Imagine: Yamato, cracked, broken, and separated from her Master... desperately searching for a way to get back to him, and ended up washed up on the shores of Fortuna. Humanoid, but clearly not if anyone saw the cracked, broken, and no-normal look of “shattered” in her torso, that she would have to keep covered.

Made from the power of Sparda, she is pale with white hair... and she finds herself drawn to the orphanage...

Where she finds the toddler that is Nero.

Devil Hunters’ Podcast

Nico “accidentally” finds entertainment in recording the Sparda Family arguments as they talk about hunting; after all, they all share one braincell.

Ascended Monochrome

A white angel remains by the side of Nelo Angelo. Mundus was not pleased by the behavior of his second creation, from the human woman that he had picked up with the treacherous Son of Sparda. But he later discovered that by using her, he could keep Nelo Angelo complacent. Eventually, underestimating love will be his downfall.

Fall to Royalty

A story of where Vergil wins against Mundus the first time, and takes the throne of Hell. But what is he to do next? Eventually, ruling Hell seemed meaningless when there was no one by his side, so he goes to seek out the Lady Knight that he had vowed to never think of or go back to unless he had obtained the power he sought.

Doppelganger Woes

So, I heard Capcom retconned Gilver to be some sort of imitation created by Mundus. I’m all for this! And I’m going to DO something with this.

Side-Project: DMC Tarot List

I started on this maybe months ago; and I have a tentative list oh what characters go with what card and a few detailed descriptions. I think I should confer with

@harlot-of-oblivion

at some point about this, and anyone else interested in, well, Tarot stuff.

#devil may cry #fanfiction #Project Update

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exkernal · 4 years

Text

Philosophy Class for Rock Bottom Demons: 1/3

A/N: I don’t know why I’m finally getting around to posting this old fic now, but I’m in a hellstrop mood

As Michael watches the humans snipe and scurry about (he doesn't care what Eleanor says, that cockroach analogy was on point) he thinks, this is rock bottom. A demon begging his torturees for help; that's as low as it gets.

Then Eleanor tells him he has to take philosophy class.

Does she forget whom she's dealing with? He's not some zit-speckled check out boy who will "remember" that he already scanned her margarita mix if she yells enough. Despite his appearance of bespectacled innocence, at his core he is pure immortal evil that has been torturing humans since before her grandmother's grandmother's grandmother's grandmother was even conceived, thank you. Does Eleanor know how much force is needed to pry the nail from a grown man's big toe? Does she know the sound a human makes when tossed into a giant juicer? No--but Michael does, and she'd best not forget it.

Except maybe he's the one who's forgotten whom he's dealing with, as Eleanor throws his words back in his face until he's well and truly cornered.

So now he's taking philosophy class.

Now this, this is rock bottom, Michael thinks, as Chidi, in all of his sweater-vested glory, hands out their neatly printed syllabi.

"Right. Now that we all have our syllabi--"

"Oh, dip," Jason says, his eyes impossibly wide. "Are you sure that's safe?"

Chidi blinks. His forehead scrunches up in that way it does.

"Pardon?"

"I mean aren't those those weird monster thingies that make you like mad horny?"

Michael catches Eleanor's eye, and they quickly look away.

"I--you're--no. Jason, you're thinking of a succubi. These are syllabuses." Chidi winces, as if the improper grammar physically pains him.

It doesn't clear things up.

"Chidi, man, if you need to see a doctor I know this dope one in Jacksonville. She accepts food stamps as payment and doesn't ask questions if you come in with jellyfish stings around your ding dong--"

"Jason, you're thinking of--you know what, never mind."

Then again, maybe it won't be so bad if he gets a front row seat to Chidi being tortured by his students.

* * * * *

The syllabus is garbage. Human philosophy is garbage. Every higher being knows that, even the stuck up angels farting around in the real Good Place.

(Not that Michael's actually met an angel before, but still).

He'll just have to fake it. Put on his best face, lure the humans into trusting him.

It'll be easy.

* * * * *

This is rock bottom, the knowledge of existence's fleeting nature. Of the expanding, gaping maw of the abyss that will devour them all as easily as dog-spiders devour human eyeballs. How can anyone expect him to go on like this, knowing the fate that almost certainly awaits him (because let's be real, Shawn will find out eventually)? Why was he even created all of those eons ago if this is his ultimate fate? How can existence even continue without Michael, who's always existed before? How can--?

It's okay. Eleanor's showed him. If he can just push those feelings down, and keep pushing and pushing and--

Eleanor's towering above him. Huh. Usually she's not because she's so ridiculously tiny. He remembers the reboots where she got so angry she physically attacked him--it was hilarious, like a chihuahua barking at a grizzly bear. Her eyes are more blue than green tonight, maybe because of her dress.

"All humans are aware of death," she says,"so we're all a little bit sad, all the time. That's just the deal."

"Sounds like a crappy deal," he mutters.

"Well, yeah, it is," she says, sitting down, "but we don't get offered any other ones."

Eleanor's gaze is absent of any judgement or mockery or disdain. He can't recognize what he sees, because no one's ever looked at him that way before, not humans or demons or Janets. It's not sad but not happy either; it's more like she somehow knows what he's feeling even if he doesn't say it, and that's okay. Her eyes tell him that it's okay.

It doesn't make it better, exactly, but maybe it's not rock bottom either.

* * * * *

"It's so forking stupid! 'How can you tell if an action is good or bad blah blah blah?' Because of the points, dummy! The points tell you if it's good or bad, Professor Know It All."

"I feel you, bud," Eleanor says, lounging with her feet on the coffee table, a notebook propped up against her legs. "But--and don't rip my head off or whatever you guys do--"

"It's rip your head off," Michael says.

"Right. I'm just saying, maybe things would go a little better if you didn't rip the pages out of every book Chidi gives you."

She might have a point there.

* * * * *

"In this experiment, people continued 'shocking' patients even after they heard them beg and scream. The influence of authority was too strong, and overrode their moral instincts. So the question this possess is how do we stick to our morals in the face of conflicting authority? Yes, Michael?"

"I don't understand the problem. When your superiors tell you to up the voltage, it's a good thing. Why wouldn't I want to use the shocks--why are you all looking at me like that?"

All four humans stare at him like his human disguise just slipped.

Chidi squints. He rubs his hand against his forehead. Michael can see the sweat beading on his face.

"Michael, you're still thinking like a demon. From a human perspective, we don't want to torture people. I think you need another ten lines."

Michael sighs, but he doesn't question it.

"People good," he mumbles, as the chalk screeches against the board.

"Keep it up, bud," Chidi encourages. "You'll get there eventually."

* * * * *

"Why did you give me Les Miserables? That thing's almost as long as your stupid thesis!"

Chidi frowns. "Thank you, once again, for casually insulting my life's work."

"Come on, man, you gave Jason Are You There, God? It's Me, Margaret."

"Did you seriously just compare your intellectual abilities to those of Jason Mendoza?"

"...fair point."

* * * * *

What was Chidi's problem?

Michael searches for Eleanor's eyes. She's good at explaining things; out of all of the humans, she makes the most sense. But Eleanor won't look at him. She actually looks away from him, following wordlessly after Chidi.

Michael doesn't understand.

* * * * *

"I can't high five that!" Eleanor shouts. "No matter how much I want to."

Michael turns away, laughing. She seems like she's mad at him too, but then he gets her laughing with the reddit story. Things can't be that bad if he can still make her laugh.

It doesn't last for long.

Eleanor tells him that this is entirely up to him to fix, then leaves, before he can think of a retort. He's left alone to wonder how the here he can worm his way back into Chidi's good graces.

Wait, what? Why does he even want to make it up to Chidi? He should be thrilled; he didn't want to attend those stupid, worthless, stupid, boring, stupid classes to begin with! Now he can have his proverbial cake (teaming up with the humans) and eat it too (no dumb classes). This is perfect.

Now he has more time to write fake torture reports instead of reading up on those old farts. Or complaining about reading with Eleanor and Jason and sometimes Tahani. Or seeing Tahani's shocked delight whenever he shares some surprising tidbits about her celebrity pals. Or trying not to laugh at the expression on Chidi's face during yet another of Jason's long winded anecdotes. Or sitting besides Eleanor, occasionally cheating off of her, each doing their best to make the other laugh. Now he doesn't have to waste any more time with any of that nonsense.

It's perfect.

* * * * *

There's something wrong with his chest as he watches Tahani clutch her diamond and Eleanor gush over her shrimp dispensary. It's warm, not warm like whenever he got too close to the fire pits, but softer, and not exactly unpleasant. He still doesn't get Chidi's deal, not entirely, but he's back on Team Cockroach, so everything's fine.

* * * * *

He's on his best behavior for his first day back to philosophy class. He doesn't rip the pages out of his book, doesn't talk about torture or mention humans' stupid anatomy. He doesn't even laugh at Eleanor and Jason's many jokes about happiness pumps, though that's partly because he doesn't get most of them.

* * * * *

Chidi passes back last week's philosophy papers. "Everyone's made great progress since we've started. You should be proud."

Eleanor leans over to Michael. "What did you get, bud?"

He shows her.

"Dang, A. Good for you, Michael."

"Well, I am a superior being," he says, rubbing his leg and smiling like a dope.

"Hey, we should celebrate. Do demons celebrate? Or is that just torture for you guys?"

It's just torture. He knew better than to ask Eleanor if he can have a go at one of them (like forcing Jason to listen to a blow-by-blow recap of every Jaguars defeat). Besides, he doesn't really want to, anyway.

Huh. Imagine that.

Instead he says, "In some of the other reboots, you would try to distract me from investigating the neighborhood anamolies by doing fun human stuff. We played aracade games, sang karaoke, went bowling--"

Suddenly, Jason jumps into the conversation. "Laser tag! Did you play laser tag?"

Michael thinks. "No, we never got around to that."

"Yo, homies, we have to play laser tag. I am a beast at laser tag. Me and Pillboi would do a bunch of shrooms and then go crazy all over the place. Also, I think I shot a mall cop once. Or maybe that was a dream."

Eleanor nods. "Laser tag could be fun. Don't know about the shrooms part."

She eyes Chidi, silently asking him.

"Definitely not," he says.

Twenty minutes later, thanks to Janet, Michael finds himself wearing purple plastic strapped over his chest and carrying a fake gun, surrounded by enough multi-colored smoke to fork up the humans' vision but not his. Without ever explicitly agreeing to anything, he and Eleanor have formed an alliance. He saves her from Jason's sneak attack, and together they shoot him in the chest twenty times.

"Yes!" Micheal shouts.

"Eat that!" Eleanor screams.

"Aw, man," Jason says, with the same dejected look as when he popped Pikachu.

He and Eleanor high five.

Then his chest lights up.

"Ooh," Tahani says, smiling like she can't believe her luck. Michael can't either. "I'm starting to get the hang of this!"

She notices the murderous glint in Eleanor's eyes, and bolts into the smoke.

"Don't worry, I'll avenge you," Eleanor tells him, then she shouts after Tahani, "You're going to die, you sexy skyscraper!"

That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to him.

* * * * *

So he can't marbalize Janet. And also may have teared up in front of her, despite no known demon ever crying before. So what?

* * * * *

Eleanor Shellstrop is an enigma. Nothing about her behavior on Earth indicates she should be able--or willing--to sincerely change, and yet she has. She has a limited human brain yet she keeps outwitting him. No one can rile him up like her, yet no one understands him quite like her, either.

Also, he made him a paperclip bracelet that one time.

That's why he visits her instead of Chidi when he's feeling frustrated with ethics. Because even if she is a human, she understands him more than his own kind ever did.

They sit across from eachother. In the artifical light, he can't tell if her eyes are more blue or green.

They talk a while, and in the end, she tells him that she believes in him. That she believes it will all work out. He doesn't fully understand why, but the words stay with him long after he leaves, keeping a smile on his face that he can't wipe away even if he tries. He's still smiling when he walks into his office and sees Shawn at his desk.

* * * * *

Shawn tells him it's everything he ever wanted, and he can't disagree. Because it is. As an apprentice, toiling away on others' designs, he dreamed of the moment that his own work would be recognized. Micheal the Architect, senior staff member, exhalted in the Bad Place.

It would be so easy to snatch the pin, place it on his lapel, and pretend that the last few months never happened.

He's not sure what will happen to Janet, though. It's not like they can realistically sneak her back to the warehouse. Maybe they'll reboot her, and reuse her for a replica neighborhood. As for the humans, he knows exactly what will happen to them; they'll be tortured forever. He tries to imagine it. For some reason, he keeps going back to the moment that Trevor threw his arm around Eleanor, prepared to take her to the "Bad Place," and the way she looked, resigned and disgusted all at once.

He remembers stretching his hand out to her, and her accepting. He remembers leading her back to the fake Good Place.

It turns out he's already made his choice.

He doesn't even regret it.

* * * * *

He collapses into Eleanor's arms like a puppet whose strings were cut, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"I was so worried for you! You're my friends and I wanted to save you!"

Eleanor whispers that it's okay. He wishes he could believe her, he really does, but he can't escape the fact that they're completely and utterly forked. The humans still think he can get them to the real Good Place, but he knows that they don't have a chance. They're at the end of the road. They've seemingly run out of options.

But maybe he can figure it out, if he stalls long enough. He's done it before when he thought he hit rock bottom, and he can do it again. He always figures something out.

* * * * *

He doesn't figure it out.

* * * * *

The Shellstrops are right about one thing: drinking really does help.

He tells stories about past reboots that get everyone laughing. Someone (Eleanor or Jason, he can't remember which) suggest Never Have I Ever. Michael figures out the trick after two turns, getting everyone, even Janet, out with gems like "never have I ever been rebooted," "never have I ever smashed food holes," "never have I ever had a beating heart," and "never have I ever been to Earth." By the time they try to gang up on him ("never have I ever tortured humans," "never have I ever worn a fake human suit," and Jason's "never have I ever worn a bowtie", which gets both Chidi and Tahani fuming because Micheal and weird turtle dealers aren' t the only one's who wear bowties, Jason) it's already too late.

"That's not, that's not even fair," Tahani says, swaying sligtly. "How do we even know--can you even get drunk?"

"I can," Michael says with dignity. "It just takes longer."

"Prove it!" Eleanor starts up the drunken chant, getting the others to all chime in. "Prove it! Prove it!"

So Michael downs an entire bottle of whiskey in one go.

In retrospect, that might not have been his smartest decision.

* * * * *

In the end, Eleanor's the one to come of with the crazy, bound to fail plan. The humans slowly trickle back to their beds, since humans need to be well rested before facing off against impossible odds, until it's just him and Eleanor left sprawled on the blanket, their legs stretching out before them. Eleanor rests against his side. Tonight, in the Michael-made starlight, her eyes look more green than blue. There's a pleasant buzz in Micheal's brain, leaving him light and (despite everything) happy.

"Micheal," Eleanor says suddenly. "Do you think there's something wrong with me?"

"Not particularly," he says. "Why?"

"You said that me and Chidi were 'in love,'" she starts to use air quotes but gives up halfway. "But now we're not. Or he doesn't feel that way, or can't decide what way he feels, I don't even know. I don't know if it's me--if there's just something unloveable about me."

Something about that statement hurts Micheal, but he's not sure why. He's no good with feelings talk--he only just learned what 'guilt' means. But Eleanor was there for him when he needed it (a smile across a table, a hand patting his back) so he gives it his best shot.

"Chidi's just Chidi," he says. "He's trapped in his own Chidi world, which, just between us, is what made torturing him so fun. There's nothing wrong with you. Whatever Chidi's dealing with, it's not beccause you're 'unloveable' or whatever."

They're quiet for a moment.

"Hey, Micheal? Do you really think kissing is that gross?"

His face twists in disgust. "Yes. But to be fair, I think a lot of human bodily functions are disgusting."

"Cuz we're like cockroaches," Eleanor nods sagely.

That's not...entirely right, but he can't figure out why.

"Sooooo," she says. He knows that look in her eyes. "Does that mean you wouldn't ever try kissing? Just to say you tried it?"

He barks out a laugh. "When would I ever get the chance to try it?"

"Well, we could. Right now. If you want."

Michael feels too warm again. He's having trouble meeting those more-green-than-blue eyes. He's suddenly aware of how close they are, pressed together like this.

"Why--would you--you, you actually want to?"

"Sure."

He's always trusted Eleanor before when it came to human things. And he can't lie to himself: he does like the feel of her in his arms, pressed so closely that he can feel her heart beat, away from everyone else. He doesn't want it to end.

"Okay," he says softly.

It's a little awkward at first, because Micheal doesn't know what to do while Eleanor shuffles around, positioning herself in front of him. She closes her eyes, so he does too. Her hands are on his back and her lips press against his. It's...nice. Her lips are soft and warm and not as gross as he expected.

She pulls away too soon. She leans forward, like she wants to sit on his lap, but loses her balance. He catches her before she faceplants the grass.

" 'm okay," she says.

A voice in his head, which sounds suspiciously like Professor Buzzkill, tells him she's not.

"Okay, it's time for bed," he says. "Sleep it off."

She lets out a disappointed whine, but she doesn't fight him. He pulls her to her feet and walks her back to the clown house. Just as they reach the door ("Ya know," Eleanor slurrs, "tonight I'm not even gonna mind the creepy clowns watching me sleep."), a terrible thought occurs to him.

"Eleanor? Was I a rebound?"

"What? Pff, no. You're not a rebound. You're...you're Micheal."

He pretends that he knows what she means.

* * * * *

Why didn't he grab another pin? Stupid, stupid. Eleanor watches him fumble through the jackets, trying not to freak out, but he can feel the tension radiating off of her from the seventh dimension.

It's too late. Shawn's on the balcony. He has two options. He could go through the portal after the others, leaving Eleanor behind to be torture. Forever. Or he could give her his pin, be retired for sure, while Eleanor has only a slim chance of winning her case.

Once, there wouldn't have even been a choice. He doesn't want to be retired. He remembers his existential panic when Chidi explained death to him. He thought it was the worst possible fate.

Now, peering into Eleanor's panicked face, he can think of another.

She doesn't understand as he explains the trolley problem, not until he removes his senior staff pin and pins it on her dress.

"No," she says.

"Take care of the others," he says. He is sad that he won't get to see them all on the other side, but he knows that they're all in good hands if Eleanor's there to guide them.

"Goodbye, Eleanor," he says, pushing her through the portal. He's tempted to kiss her before she goes, because that warm feeling is building up in his chest and it needs an outlet, but there's no time. He hopes she understands all of the things he doesn't say, because he sure as hell doesn't.

She vanishes. She's safe now, he thinks as he waits for Shawn to reach him. He knows that he's facing rock bottom--in all of eternity, only eleven demons have been retired--but he can't find it in himself to care.

#the good place #hellstrop #michael x eleanor #eleanor shellstrop #michael (tgp)#fanfic

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lucarioisinthevoid · 4 years

Note

swap personalities au. Jeremy is to be feared and puppet is an uwu. mike is soft no cuss man. Henry has a lorge soul and feels all emotions v much. thats all i got lol

Okay, this escalated into half an AU, so I’ll put a read more, because this really is long as hell. Tldr though, Jeremy is a horrible sadistic cunt using religion to justify his hatred for others and his bad treatment of them, Mike is constantly unsure of himself and tries to be nice but is fairly miserable, Phoney is the happiest guy on earth who LOVES life, Dave is a sociopath, but a well-adjusted, serious one, Marion is an innocent being constantly crying in his little box- And Henry has done a lot of mistakes in his life and is now stuck in his suit, his fear of life turned into nothing but mourning, while being tortured by one of his victims for all eternity. Frankly though, I’m still trying to figure out if their goals and moral stances would still stay the same if their personality switched, HMMMM- I’m having fun with this, this might become an actual AU. I just wrote out a segment as a writing exercise, heh. -

Fredbear’s was Jeremy’s favorite place. It wasn’t as much the attractions there, as it were the employees he worked with. Though, then again, there was one attraction he was REALLY fond of. Comfortable he sat on the music box, the melody being accompanied by loud and agonized sobs. They wouldn’t let him sleep. The box’s mechanism needed electricity to work, using the crank charged it all up, causing the soul inside immense pain. It was his favorite attraction, because the sound always reminded him of his father, back in his childhood. It was familiar. Nice. Comforting. “It’s not because I hate you.” He causally told the box, drawing another muffled howl from within it. “It is more because I’m bored. I want to listen to music. It is not my fault you are in there, you see? Not my fault at all.” Slowly he winded it up one more time, smiling to himself as he heard footsteps approaching. Not the Phone Guy, no. He was too prone to mind his own business. There was only one person who could step up like this. Hesitant, despite already being here. “What is it.” Jeremy finally asked, cold and snappy, suppressing another smile at the wince coming from the other employee. “I- I think you might- well- if you could- you know- I-“ “Hurry the fuck up. I don’t have all day.” Sharply Mike sucked in the air through his teeth, close to tears, but trying to force a smile. “H-hey, maybe you should- not- wind the box?” “Oh? Why?” “B-because the crying, it’s- I-“ He took a shaky breath. “Idon’tlikeit-“ “You don’t?” Pretending to be surprised, Jeremy put his hand in front of his mouth, “I’m SO sorry! You see, crying is actually quite the nice sound. It is the sound of being needed! But of course, a cruel man as you yourself would not understand how wonderful it is to bring comfort to other beings. And it is not like anyone is getting hurt. You are not trying to say the machines have REAL feelings right? Don’t be stupid.” “N-no, not-“ “See? Nothing wrong with that.” “But-“ “What is it with you? Why are you still trying to bother me about this? Are you having an episode again? Are you going to try to hurt me? I know there is a small part within you that just wants to HURT people. You disgust me.” Mike opened his mouth, but was incapable of saying anything. “Yes, that “demon”, that sometimes causes you to black out and wake up surrounded by nothing but agony. You are delusional with your talk about it being Fredbear. Maybe you should just accept that you are horrible and a danger to be around. Maybe you should just leave. Never come back. This world is better off without dangerous sinners like you.” Finally it was enough for Mike and he turned on the spot running off. Jeremy watched after him, disinterested. He wouldn’t do anything more exciting than that. Too much of a coward to take the last step. Though then again, he would tattle on him. Groaning the boy stepped off the box, looking back at it. The sobs have quieted down. The foolish soul inside still trying to keep ahold of its optimism really intrigued Jeremy. Sure, he did god’s work, trying to convince the soul to leave by any means possible- after all, nobody was allowed to hide from the fires of hell- but it was so utterly stubborn. Despite nothing being left, no inkling of a motivation, he stuck around. God must really hate him. Everyone in this restaurant really. But before he could think about it any further, from behind there was a small cough. He turned around, facing the owner of the location. It always took a second for Jeremy to remember it weren’t the man’s glasses that shined, but the eyes behind it. The Purple Guy looked down at him expressionless. “Did you harass Mike again.” It wasn’t even a question, he knew the answer. “No.” Fully confident he said. “But I would not expect a sociopath to understand the difference between harassment and a normal talk.” “… sociopathy is not depriving me of being able to understand and listen to my employees, Mr. Fitzgerald. Nor does it take my morals. I can still recognize your behavior as abhorrent. Why did I even hire you?” “Because you’re into small boys?” He grinned widely, then shrugged as though he hadn’t just leveled an abhorrent accusation at him. “Because I’m the only one willing to deal with Henry?” “… how about you do what you do what you were hired for then. Mr. Fitzgerald.” “Sure, sure. Oh, but maybe you should shortly check behind you, slightly to the right, where Phoney is putting a stack of party hats on fire and trying to put them onto his head?” He started laughing as William quickly turned and rushed off to save the wild Phone-headed man from probably damage, potential death. No way in hell that Jerry would tell him he was the one constantly smuggling in the lighters, since the grumpy guy at the price corner refused to do so. Instead he sneaked into the saferoom of the location, though he probably didn’t have to. Inside there only really was one thing. An old, slowly rotting golden suit. But that never fooled Jeremy. He might was surrounded by idiots, but so far the brain rot hadn’t hit him. “Well, Henry, how are we doing today?” The suit didn’t react. “Aw. Another day of no attention? What is it? Cannot even give me the littlest bit of appreciation for keeping you from breaking into pieces and making your existence even more painful?” Nothing came back. “… well then again, you probably think you deserve it. Which you absolutely do. Not even hell wants you. Nobody wants a child murder.” The suit’s clawed paw twitched, making Jeremy giggle in delight. “That NEVER fails. Fantastic. But is that all I am getting?” He proceeded to grab a bucket from the side, filling it with warm water and soap. “It’s really pathetic. You made that suit as your protection. Your shield from the world you cared too much about. You used the suit to play the big man, to tell people off, Fredbear was a rude bastard and it was the only way you could protect anything you loved. And now? The least you could do would be to go out there and bite all of these heathen’s heads off. But you won’t. Because Fredbear was just a suit and you’re just a coward.” Bemused he started to sprinkle water on the unresponsive suit. Washing, oiling, keeping it in check. “Too bad. I guess I have to wait until the locust descend to feast on their flesh during the end of days.” There was still nothing. Finally Jeremy quieted down, uncomfortable. Just wash it and get done with it. “… bad people deserve bad things. And bad things happen to bad people.” He quietly mumbled. “I’m not wrong with this. I’m not even that bad towards them. They would fucking kill me or worse if that would profit them. They are heathens without any sort of moral compass pretending to be all harmless and nice.” He hadn’t noticed Fredbear’s head slowly moving to the side to be able to look at him in his position. The chuckle made him snap up however. “… projecting… won’t protect you… from your shame…” “You- YOU-“ The boy squeezed the rag, soapy liquid running down his arm. Then he laughed, abruptly and harshly. “Oh NOW you are talking. To accuse me of NONSENSE. Meanwhile your friend William is broken up about your passing and you just sit here- like you COULDN’T if you WANTED. Shows how much you care. Just move on to the afterlife and take your punishment.” Once more there was nothing. Jeremy gritted his teeth, trying to control his temper. “You will NOT make me act in wrath. You will NOT drag me down. You will burn on your own, you creature lower than DIRT.” Outside Mike had finally calmed down, staying around Simon for a bit really had lifted his spirits again. There was just something about his unbridled joy about being alive that nobody could escape. But there was something he had to do. The customers had cleared out, so he could allow himself to sit down next to the box, without feeling bad about putting more pressure onto the other dayshift workers. “… h-hey. Can you… can you hear me? I’m- hey, how about- I might could take you out of there if you- if you would like to-“ The crying had subsided, but the lid stayed firmly on. “Nobody would mind! I think. I mean, I’m sure. Yes. Please, you… don’t have to be alone in there.” A weak voice sounded, muffled. “… no thank you.” “Ah- s-sorry. I just- I hate what is happening to you. I- I wish I could do something. I’m so sorry.” “… it’s not your fault.” “It sure feels like it though.” Gently Mike sighed. “Hey… I could… tell you a story maybe? I really want you to feel better…” There was hesitation from inside. “… can I tell you a story instead?” “Is- is it a nice one…?” “… no.” There was a short break. “But I hope you will listen to it anyways…” “O-okay. No problem. Not- not at all!” He quieted down to listen. From the distance, Old Sport leaned against the wall, watching on. Phone Guy attempted to sneak up, but was quickly frozen in place by a glare. It softened up however and he waved him over. “Phoney. Still alive?” “Alive and well and wouldn’t want it any different!” Happily the man agreed. “What about you?” “Eh. Neither truly happy nor truly alive, but still optimistic.” “What’cha looking at?” “… Mike. Kinda worry for him. He seems so unsure about everything.” “Oh, I’m sure he’s just nervous about this new job. We’ll get him out of that shell, and if we have to drag him!” “That… sounded like a threat.” “Oh. Oh no! I didn’t mean that!” Quietly Old Sport chuckled and patted his pal on the head. “I know. Just wanted to give you a heads up. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.” “Trouble? I don’t want any trouble, that’s true! But a lot of so called “trouble” is just an adventure waiting to happen!” “… sometimes. Not in this case though.” “Awww, that’s too bad.” Both of them looked onto the tormented smile on Mike’s face in the distance. Again Old Sport sighed and looked at Phone Guy. “Do me a favor and look after him, alright? I worry for him.” “Everything will work out. I promise! I’m the manager, it’s my job to take care of everyone! Even Jeremy. Especially Jeremy. Poor boy has some issues too. But nothing that can’t be fixed with patience and love!” “I take your word for it.”

#the Group #henry miller #au

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arolla-pine · 4 years

Text

No room to swing a Cat? - p.30

(30) – Bridging back

That was the last address on their list – yet Marinette was afraid of this one the most. She heard her heart beating in her ears, her breath quickened. Adrien squeezed her hand as a signal of supporting her and smiled.

“You can do it…”

“I’m so scared…”

“Why? They’re your friends.”

“Juleka is Luka’s sister. She’ll be mad…”

“You don’t know it. And I’m sure she’ll understand. Come on! We don’t have time. Remember that we have to buy an engagement gift…”

Marinette lowered her head and followed Adrien unenthusiastically. Since this morning they had already visited most of their friends. They’d started at Mylène and Ivan’s. Then they visited Nathaniel and Marc, who lived nearby. It wasn’t surprising that Alix was their next-door-neighbour. Yet, Max as her roommate was a little unexpected. Marinette had an impression that he wasn’t just a roommate… She tried to recall any hints that those two had ever been interested in each other, but didn’t remember anything like that. They asked about Kim and Ondine, so Alix told them that they were always busy with swimming tournaments. Before Adrien and Marinette left the apartment, Max received a message from Kim who just visited Paris between sport competitions. After a few minutes Kim and Ondine joined them and accepted the invitation for the evening. Actually, all of friends agreed to come for the engagement party, even Sabrina. Although she made sure first that Chloe wouldn’t be there… Marinette smiled evasively trying not to admit that miss Bourgeois was the only one that wasn’t invited at all.

Now, only Juleka and Rose left on the list.

Marinette sighed and ranged the doorbell. Soon after that a tiny blonde appeared at the door. She squeaked with excitement when she saw them.

“Oh, God! Marinette! I haven’t seen you for ages! And you, Adrien, even longer! Where have you been hiding?! What’s up? Oh, God! You’re together now?” Rose couldn’t help asking, before she even invited them in.

“Is Juleka there?” Marinette asked looking around.

Rose seemed to be a bit embarrassed. That was obvious that her girlfriend had hidden in the other room when she’d got known who visited them.

“I’m sure she’ll join us soon…” Rose whispered. “Do you want anything to drink? What brings you here by the way? Not that I’m not happy seeing you here! Of course I’m happy! We haven’t seen each other for so long… Something happened that you’ve come so unexpectedly?”

“We wanted to invite you for an engagement party…”

“Oh! You’re getting married?! Wonderful!”

Rose’s exclamation made her partner leave the bedroom finally. Juleka was too curious and too astonished to hide anymore. She wanted to hear why Marinette had moved on so quickly after breaking up with Luka.

“Hi, Mar…” she muttered uncomfortable.

“Hey, Jules… Uhm…”

“I’m so sorry for my stupid brother…”

“Oh, don’t be… Uhm… It’s not necessary…”

“He’s a complete jerk…”

“Don’t say that. He used to be okay for the most of time.”

“He behaved like a pig and you defend him?”

“Oh, you’re so big-hearted!” Rose exclaimed in an awe. “You’ve forgiven him. That’s so noble of you! And now you’re with Adrien!”

“It will kill Luka. For sure…” Juleka muttered.

“Don’t tell him, please…” Marinette whispered, suddenly realising that she wouldn’t stand Luka’s face when he’d say: ‘I told you so!’

“I’m sure he’ll feel relief. That you’re not broken-hearted anymore!” Rose admitted enthusiastically.

“Or it will kill him…” Juleka knew better. “At least… We can tell you…” she added after a moment. “I was afraid how you’d react, but… If you’re with Adrien now…”

“What happened?”

“I’m going to be an aunt…”

“Wh-What?!” Marinette stuttered in shock.

“My brother’s made a baby with Chloe…”

“Jules!” Rose snorted. “ Don’t be gross! I think it’s so romantic!”

“Yeah, right! I’m more than sure that discovering the fact that contraceptives fail sometimes wasn’t romantic at all” Juleka noted. “I bet that it was commented with a long list of curses. I’m not sure only who cursed more: my brother or my future sister-in-law.”

“Oh…” escaped from Marinette. “So they’re getting married?”

“Well, the mayor Bourgeois didn’t leave any choice to my brother… Luka wasn’t happy, of course, but he’s finally accepted the fact he’ll settle down. In my opinion he’d prefer someone else to be his bride…” Juleka stopped, embarrassed.

“Please, relay my best wishes…” Marinette said carefully after a moment.

“Sure…”

They all became silent for a long, awkward while.

“There is a bright side of this situation…” Juleka said suddenly. “My brother remembered that he has a family. You know, he used to forget about my birthdays for a couple of years. Now, he calls me twice a week. Or even more often…”

“And Jules has fun every single time…” Rose added in an amused tone.

“Because he’s whining all the time about Chloe’s complaining on everything. That she’ll get fat or earn some stretch marks, or ruin her complexion. That’s so funny!”

“I hope Chloe will be a better mom than her own mother.” Marinette murmured.

“Don’t worry about that. My mom has already a plan to take over Chloe after the wedding.” Juleka explained with satisfaction. “She’ll never let anyone hurt her grandchild. Oh, man… I wish I could see that! My sister-in-law who barely touches anything because it’s dirty or not golden enough… Luka will turn grey. He deserved it!”

“Maybe Chloe will change for better?” Adrien wondered. “Maybe she’ll be a great mom? Maybe she’ll discover she’s a good person?”

Juleka glanced at him doubtful but said nothing. She remembered that Adrien used to be Chloe’s friend and he’d always justified her bullying at school by reminding that Chloe’s mother had left her…

“Let’s hope so…” Marinette agreed.

“And they will get away with cheating?!” Juleka asked outraged. “What moral comes from that story? That you can be unfaithful, break someone’s heart and live happily ever after?!”

“I’m not saying they will live happily ever after…” Marinette replied calmly. “They have to figure out how to live with the consequences. For some years they will remember that they’ve got married because they had to. If they want to be happy, they have to realise that they’re together because they love each other. That their child only advanced the course of events. It may happen that during their arguments Chloe will reproach Luka with an apartment not luxurious enough or staying at home with the child when he’s on tour. Or Luka will argue that he had to settle down against his will… Or it also may happen that they both will lose their heads for their child and discover they’re made for each other. Time will tell…”

“You’re so smart and forgiving!” Rose exclaimed.

“And naïve…” Juleka added.

“Just wonderful…” Adrien whispered in Marinette’s ear, and she smiled in response.

“So, when is your wedding?” Rose asked.

“Oh, it’s not our engagement party!” Marinette laughed.

“Maybe next time…” Adrien replied at the same moment, and his girlfriend glanced at him in amazement.

“I guess it’ll be quite soon…” Juleka muttered.

“It’s Alya and Nino who engaged.” Marinette explained. “We want to organise a surprise for them, so we invite all classmates for tonight.”

“Even…?”

“No. Chloe isn’t on that list.” Marinette cut in a serious tone.

“That’s good. I’m trying to like her, but I prefer her in small doses…”

Suddenly Juleka’s phone began calling. She glanced at the screen and commented:

“Talking of the devil…” she reached for the smartphone. “What’s up?” she asked her interlocutor. Judging from her face expression, Luka began complaining of his fiancé. “Before you go too far, let me share some news with you. You won’t believe who’s visited us today!”

Marinette tried to protest wordlessly to avoid revealing her presence, but Juleka ignored those signs and informed her brother with satisfaction:

“Marinette!”

Hearing her name, the girl felt as if her heart stopped for a moment. Her anxiety arose when she noticed her friend stopped talking and only listened to Luka. After a while of nodding and muttering Juleka finally looked at her friend and said:

“Uhm… Okay… Mari?” she handed her the phone.

Adrien had an impression that his world had just been ruined. He was afraid that after all they’d learnt here, all Luka needed to do to win Marinette back was to apologise. She’d forgive him, they’d get back together. Maybe they’d even raise Luka’s child together, because Chloe wouldn’t be a single mom…

“Uhm… Hello?” Marinette began in uncertain tone.

Silence.

“Is that you? Really?” Luka asked quietly.

“Yes.”

“I… I’m so sorry, Mari…”

She didn’t expect that those words would bring her such a relief. She smiled and looked at Adrien, as if he was her support, her baseline that enabled her to navigate her life properly again.

“Thank you.” She replied calmly. “I want you to know that I’ve forgiven you. And I wish you to be happy, Luka…”

—

No room to swing a Cat? p.29 <- Previous part | Next part -> No room to swing a Cat? p.31

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