#this joke went over well in the containment channel i’m posting it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cheri-translates · 3 years

Text

[CN] Kiro’s Inspiration Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 灵感之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

An early birthday gift to the embodiment of sunshine, @moondusks :>

[ This date was released in CN on 7 December 2020 ]

A pleasantly warm and light breeze lifts the muslin curtains, bringing with it the fresh atmosphere of early winter.

Lemon yellow sunlight filters lazily through the trees, casting shadows on the window and carrying the scent of peppermint.

It’s an incomparably ordinary, and incomparably comfortable afternoon.

It’s very suitable for heading out and casting aside one’s cares - laying down on a grass patch, basking in the warm sunlight.

Or perhaps taking a stroll along the street, and sitting down in a cafe one has been longing to visit.

That’s what Kiro and I originally planned to do.

However, the cruel reality is...

MC: Why does this proposal have to be done by next week ahhhh--

Kiro: Why can’t I write this song properly--

MC: Why do people need to be exploited by work--

Kiro: [sighs] And why are people constrained by inspiration--

Because of a sudden program, I have no choice but to work overtime.

And Kiro, who is about to record a new album, has remained dissatisfied towards the title track.

Due to the pressures of reality, we have to give up our original plans of having a fulfilling and happy date.

The both of us are working overtime at home.

Kiro: [groans] Farewell, my rosy weekend. Goodbye, my donuts and soup dumplings which have vanished into thin air.

MC: And brown sugar milk coffee, taro pies, and lava cakes...

Even though we sing the same tune, complaining dejectedly about not being able to go out, the both of us work non-stop on our tasks.

I can hear the crisp sound of Kiro tapping his pen rhythmically against the music stand. Occasionally, his soft humming can also be heard.

Seeing him working hard and struggling with himself, the corners of my lips lift upwards.

Even though we’re unable to head outside to do something interesting, it isn’t a bad thing to be together at home like this, channelling effort into our differing goals.

In some way, this should also count as a type of date.

I smile, adjusting my posture on the bean bag so that it’s more comfortable for typing, then continue immersing myself in the battle against the program proposal.

The proposal I’m working on is extremely urgent, and has to be settled by next week.

Not only that, but this sudden program has an importance accompanied by a non-proportional preparation timing.

And during such a period of high stress, the goddess of inspiration, who typically shows concern for me, has gone on a faraway vacation, and has completely vanished.

I have trouble writing. When I completely lose my train of thought, I exchange helpless glances with the few words on the screen.

In the end, I give up and pause the hands which have been maltreating the keyboard, preparing to pour myself a glass of water, and attempt to change my mood.

Lifting my head, I subconsciously glance in Kiro’s direction.

The curtains separate the room from sunlight, casting Kiro in a faint shadow as he leans against the window while composing a song.

Busy writing the new song, he hasn’t had time to maintain the state of his hair.

Finding stray hairs a hindrance as they block his vision, Kiro holds a rubber band in his mouth, combing his hair to the back, and ties it into a small ponytail.

Those azure eyes stare at the music score in concentration. They are as clear and bright as always, but lack the flash of light he usually has when inspiration strikes.

Reference materials and abandoned drafts are scattered all over, which seem to isolate him on a higher platform which I’m unable to reach.

Completely engrossed in creating his work, even his languid sitting posture exudes a cold and lonely feeling for some reason.

For a moment, I feel slightly dazed.

Kiro: Let me guess. Is Miss Chips lacking inspiration, and having trouble writing the proposal?

Kiro suddenly removes his earplugs, turning his head to look at me.

He shows me a brilliant smile, and the room is once again filled with sunlight.

MC: How did you know?

He stands up as well, stretching himself, turning back into the him that I’m most familiar with.

It’s as though the him of just a few seconds ago was simply an illusion surfacing from work-induced stress.

Kiro: Hmm... since just now, the sound of your keyboard has been intermittent, unlike how smooth it usually is.

While he speaks, Kiro walks to the snack cabinet and rifles through it carefully, as though he’s a small squirrel searching for a pine cone from the hole of a tree in winter.

Kiro: So I thought - Miss Chips is probably just like me, entering a bottleneck at work.

He splits the low-fat and sugar-free healthy snack into half, placing it into my hand.

Kiro: A little reward for the hardworking you. Now, do you feel more motivated?

MC: It sounds quite embarrassing... but I don’t think I can work any harder.

I munch on the snack which gives me absolutely no happiness, saying this with a sullen expression.

MC: The presentation is next week, but I still have no idea how to go about writing the proposal. Right now, I just want to turn into an ostrich and curl up into a ball, avoiding the presentation meeting in a few days... and also avoiding my unmotivated self.

I turn the laptop towards him, letting him see the lonely and piteous 235 words in the document.

MC: I even want to knock on my brain forcefully, checking to see if new ideas will appear.

Kiro: Hmm... I see...

Kiro curls his finger, tapping it gently against my forehead. He leans closer to my ear and asks a question.

Kiro: Nice to meet you, Miss Chips’ inspiration. May I know if you’re at home?

Following his action, I close my eyes and sense it carefully.

After a short silence, I furrow my brows and lift my head, looking at him bitterly.

MC: Hello, the user you’re calling is not in service...

Kiro reaches out to rub the area between my eyebrows, smoothening out the creases on my face.

After ensuring that I’m no longer a “bun”, he sighs, laying down next to me.

[Note] Chinese buns (包子 - “bao zi”) look like this i.e. they look like wrinkles:

Kiro: [sighs] Actually, I’m the same as you. There’s a song I especially wish to write, and I really like the concept and composition. I want to try writing a song on understanding and interpreting the theme of “love” from my own perspective.

He pauses, lifting his fringe with a wry smile. After give it a forceful rub, he causes his originally tidy hairstyle to become fuzzy.

Kiro: But no matter how I change it, I’m not satisfied. I keep feeling as though something is missing from the music. There’s no soul.

I untie the string, using a hand to smoothen his hair, helping him tie it up properly again.

MC: Whether it’s “My Treasure” or the song we wrote together last Christmas, aren’t they very incredible? They’re tender and sweet - it’s as though they can be sung into the hearts of every listener, enabling them to recollect the best memories.

Kiro: That won’t do.

Kiro flips over and sits up, his eyes serious.

Kiro: Those songs write about us. They write about you. I have several thousand ways to write about how adorable you are, but I don’t know which timbre I should use to face myself.

Not realising how potent his words are in causing one to blush, Kiro sighs once again after speaking, laying back down.

Kiro: [sighs] Looks like this time, we’ve both chosen subjects which are very difficult for us.

Kiro: Since we’ve both sunk into a major crisis--

Kiro: Want to try Kiro’s special, secret recipe and see if it can sort out our thinking?

Kiro shoots me a wink.

MC: Sure. Do I need to do anything?

Kiro: At this stage, all you have to do is sit here.

While Kiro speaks, he picks up the abandoned drafts he had casually thrown on the floor earlier, using them to enclose us within a square frame.

Kiro: This is the thinking box that we’re trying to escape from.

He sets down the final sheet of paper, completing this “box”, his tone light.

Kiro: Right now, we’re both locked in it.

MC: In that case, will the superhero help me break this box, so we can have a breakthrough together?

Kiro: Nope.

Kiro steps out of the square frame made out of drafts, reaching out to seize Cello, who is sleeping soundly on the cat climbing shelf. Then, he places it in my arms.

Cello: Meow?

Kiro nods in satisfaction, then jogs over to the kitchen, bringing over some fruits.

Under the confused gaze of both me and Cello, he makes several trips in and out, bringing over soft cushions, comfortable blankets, and two cups of sugar-free hot chocolate.

Finally, Kiro shifts another bean bag over, and sits down beside me.

Kiro: I’m incredibly sorry to tell you that even a superhero can’t find a way to jump out of this box.

Somewhat pleased with himself, he takes me into his arms with one hand, letting me lean on him.

Kiro: But at the very least, I can keep you company in this box. And together, we can see what exactly in this box has left us so bewildered that we’re unable to get out even after such a long time.

As he speaks, he tousles Cello’s fuzzy head, and it releases a comfortable meow.

Kiro: We can also decorate it a little, so the box is more comfortable.

MC: Pfft...

I can’t help but laugh. The sense of dejectedness due to work earlier seems to be cleared up with his actions.

I reach out, pointing at a corner of the ceiling in a joking manner.

MC: See that? Over there, there’s an MC who just can’t write a proposal, and she’s currently curled up and for waiting for mushrooms to sprout on her... I don’t know how to deal with it.

Kiro nods in understanding, pointing at a corner of the room.

Kiro: Ladies and gentlemen, look here. Here is a Kiro whose inspiration is stuck, and is currently drawing circles.

MC: When you put it like that, it sounds pretty cute...

While he speaks, I more or less understand why Kiro went to such trouble to do this.

Kiro: That’s right. To me, whether it’s that ostrich-like MC, or that MC who has mushrooms growing on her, I want to hug all of them properly.

Kiro: And then tell her solemnly - that you’re already very amazing. Even if you don’t think you’re good enough, I still like you very much.

Kiro: Just as much as a little bear in winter liking the warm blue sky and green grass.

As he speaks, he tightens his grip on my hand, leaning his chin on top of my head.

Surrounding me are soft blankets and cushions. In my arms is a cat which has gone back to sleep.

Behind me, Kiro’s body temperature and scent encase me tenderly, making me feel so contented that I want to release a joyful sound together with Cello.

I close my eyes in happiness, nuzzling the crook of Kiro’s neck.

The things that were bothering me just a second ago, weighing me down with stress and emotions and leaving me unable to breathe, vanish like smoke and disperse like clouds.

It’s as though I’ve awakened from an incredibly long nightmare, discovering that sunlight is illuminating my surroundings, and that a cup of hot chocolate is waiting at the bedside.

MC: Kiro, why do you always know of such ingenious methods?

I lift my head to look at him, gazing at that blue colour which seeps into one’s heart, and the golden colour traced by sunlight.

Our foreheads lean against each other, and he smiles as he responds.

Kiro: You were the one who taught me these things. Why are you asking me instead?

MC: Me?

Kiro: Last time, there were numerous occasions when I felt I couldn’t create works that were good enough, and I’d start to doubt myself. I’d lock myself in a corner, and start having internal fights with myself.

Along with his words, it’s as though I see the Kiro I was barely acquainted with back then, and how he had endured several days and nights of work.

He had locked himself up in a room, helpless and frantic, not leaving any space for himself to breathe.

Kiro: But during those times, you were always by my side. You told me that no matter how I was, you’d like me all the same.

As he speaks, he taps on my laptop.

Kiro: Actually, it’s the same today.

Kiro: Don’t just look at how I appear now. Actually, I’m in a terrible state.

Kiro: On one hand, I’m forcing myself to finish this work quickly. On the other hand, I’m so irritated and annoyed at myself, who lacks creativity.

Kiro: There were many times when I wanted to just give up.

Kiro: But...

He lifts a strand of my hair, twirling it around his fingertip. In the end, he pulls it to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss.

Kiro: Each time I heard your intermittent yet continuous typing sounds, I’d tell myself that next to me, you’re still working hard.

Kiro: My Miss Chips is also feeling perplexed, but she’s still persevering in work.

Kiro: So I told myself - how could I give up before you did?

Kiro: I must definitely persevere a little longer, so you see how dashing I am.

Kiro relates this softly at my ear. His tone, which harbours a smile, sounds as though he’s depicting a treasure.

I indulge myself in his arms, greedily enjoying the present tranquility and warm atmosphere for a while longer.

I always feel that Kiro is a star whenever I go off course. He always illuminates the pathway, pointing the way forward for me.

Actually, without even realising it, it’s because we’ve seen each others’ light that we could press on.

Encouraging each other, and feeling the way forward in the darkness.

Until we break through the predicament together.

MC: Thank you, my superhero. I think I’ve regained the ability to fight a little more.

A soft chuckle brushes my ear. Then, a warm and gentle touch is planted on my lower jaw.

Reminiscent of the whiskers of a kitten brushing past, spreading into a plain of sweetness.

Kiro: At your service anytime, my Miss Chips.

With that, Kiro and I sit in the “box” together, resuming our work.

He lays on the ground, scribbling and drawing on the music sheet, while I hug the laptop to myself, working hard to squeeze out a proposal.

The typing sounds on the laptop remain intermittent as before, but no longer have the sense of repression and frustration from earlier.

With his presence, I actually manage to complete a draft of the proposal without realising it.

It isn’t excellent, and there are many areas which require editing. Nevertheless, I’ve already tided over the most difficult period.

I move my neck and shoulders, then shift a little closer to Kiro.

Same as before, Kiro is wholly absorbed in the music sheet in his hands.

Even though I can’t tell his current progress, based on his expression and posture, he should be the same as me, breaking free from the lowest point of production.

I observe him quietly for a long time. In the end, my playfulness triumphs, and I think of pulling a tiny prank on him.

Lifting Kiro’s right hand, I burrow into his arms.

MC: Surprise~

Probably not expecting me to do this, Kiro is left dumbfounded. However, he subconsciously props himself up and hugs me.

Kiro: Miss Chips?

MC: A little reward for the hardworking musician.

Saying this, I tilt my head upwards and give him a light peck on the chin.

My sudden attack and the closing of distance between us enables me to successfully capture the faint redness on Kiro’s face.

Kiro: ...mm, how’s your proposal doing?

MC: At the moment, there are positive prospects.

Just like this, I wrap my arms around his neck, tousling his soft, golden coloured hair.

Because of my action, the ponytail is now in disarray.

I simply hook my fingers underneath Kiro’s rubber band, untying it, feeling the softness of his hair in between my fingers.

MC: How’s your song doing?

Kiro: At the moment, there are positive prospects.

He mimics my words, inserting one earplug into my ear.

A somewhat rough demo occupies my hearing.

I close my eyes, immersed in the music he has given to me. My fingers twirl the wire of the earpiece, tracing the rhythm.

Kiro: Although it isn’t done yet, the overall main key won’t change.

It’s a somewhat slow tune.

It's quiet, and even brings with it a heavy and melancholic melody. It’s reminiscent of a self-reflection, and also like a careful recount.

Kiro: Even though this tune is a little sombre, I still wrote it.

Kiro: Because I know you’d definitely say that you like such songs too.

MC: Of course.

I say this with certainty. He smiles and lowers his head, the tips of our noses gently touching.

MC: Kiro, I came across a saying once.

MC: The process of writing a song is actually a writer’s conversation with himself.

MC: Although I don’t know what you said to yourself, if this melody is your answer, I like it very much.

Our drifting breaths channel a temperature slightly higher than the sunlight.

MC: Including these slightly heavy portions - I like them very much.

Saying this, I crinkle my eyes, humming along with the melody from the earpiece.

Kiro releases a sigh, hugging me tightly.

Kiro: [sighs] Why does this song become so sweet when you hum it?

Before I can respond, Kiro continues.

Kiro: [laughs] It must be because MC is a jar of honey.

He nods with force, seeming to be very satisfied with this answer. Then, it’s as though something occurs to him, and he plants a kiss on my forehead.

Kiro: See? It’s very sweet.

MC: What...

I laugh, pretending to push at his chest.

MC: Looks like I have to stay a little further away from you next time, so you won’t become overweight.

Kiro: Hehe, it’s already too late! My feelings come in large portions, so it’s too late to say that.

Kiro presses me against the woollen blanket, embracing me with even more strength than before.

Kiro: Miss Chips has already been firmly held onto by me.

Kiro: I’ll leave a stamp.

While he says this, he nibbles the side of my neck half-jokingly, and half-declaratory.

He doesn’t use strength, but the electric-like sensation makes me forget how to breathe for a moment.

The charmingly tepid air leaves my cheeks burning crimson.

Kiro’s hug is tight, yet very careful. It’s as though he’s embracing the one and only treasure in the entire world.

MC: It’s not like I can really run away...

Not minding my soft mumbling, another kiss descends on the shell of my ear, as though seeking a confirmation.

His breaths lift up strands of stray hair near my ear. They brush against my earlobe, as scorching as his lips.

Kiro: MC, I’m actually timid and a little childish.

Kiro buries his head in my shoulder, speaking softly.

Kiro: When it comes to things I don’t like, I’ll always think of hiding them and locking them up. I won’t see them, and I won’t let other people see them.

Kiro: But if it’s you...

I secretly take a few deep breaths, cradling his face a little stiffly yet carefully, tilting my head upwards.

MC: Thank you for trusting me.

Kiro: ...

Kiro’s eyes widen slightly, and his lips part and close. It’s as though he wants to say something, but returns to a blank.

At the end of a short silence, Kiro speaks solemnly.

Kiro: I’ll definitely finish this song.

He lowers his voice slightly. Even though this sentence is as light as a feather, I know that he’s as serious as making a vow.

Kiro: I’ll definitely finish this song, and sing various versions of myself to you in the future.

Kiro: Even the parts which are heavier, and the parts I’m unwilling to face myself.

MC: Mm. I’ll definitely listen earnestly.

Following the trail of his spine, I stroke his back lightly, giving him my promise.

Kiro: I know.

Kiro: It’s precisely because no matter what melody it is, you’ll definitely sing it into a song akin to honey.

Kiro: Which is why I have such courage.

I no longer speak, only giving him a serious nod.

Both his breathing and heart beats can be heard, regular and steady.

Kiro: Since we’ve reached an agreement, should I leave another stamp?

Kiro’s voice is once again light-hearted, even carrying with it a twinge of slyness.

MC: Wait! The most important thing now should be noting down the hard-earned inspiration before it goes away!

I grip several music sheets at the side, pressing them against his chest, attempting to flee from his arms.

MC: Get to work quickly!

Kiro: Why are you like this?

Kiro pouts, showing me his signature, puppy-eyed expression of dejection.

MC: I won’t be duped by your gaze again. I’m going to become a merciless supervisor, so you can finish your work before the deadline!

Seeing that his plan has been foiled, Kiro simply gives up “pretending”. With a smile, he grips my struggling wrist, pressing it to the side.

MC: Where’s your professionalism? Could it...

A prolonged kiss seals up the words I haven’t spoken.

Kiro: It’s exactly because of my professionalism that I can say with certainty...

Kiro smiles, his sapphire-like eyes radiating an azure colour even more eye-catching than the clear skies of winter.

Perhaps he hasn’t realised it himself, but he looks at me with the most burning and clear gaze, sticking out the tip of his tongue. Like a dragonfly flitting across water, he wets his lower lip.

Kiro: Before my inspiration vanishes, there’s still time to act coquettishly with my favourite Miss Chips.

Phone calls: First // Second

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc kiro

156 notes · View notes

livelongdolan · 4 years

Text

Fruit Loop (G.D.)

Summary: Grayson confesses his feelings to his best friend Morgan, scared of how she will react but things go surprisingly well.

Word Count: 4.5k (literally the longest i’ve ever posted asdjask)

Warnings: just like the dirtiest thing i’ve ever written tbh, squirting, ass eating, the works

A/N: Morgan ( @vinylhazza ) is my precious lil fruit loop (hence the name) so I wrote her this fic with gray and i’m VERY nervous to post it but lmfao here we go

You had moved to Los Angeles, just like many others, to chase your biggest dreams but little did you know that you’d be finding much much more than that. It started as just a joke between a few of your friends really, seeing some youtubers you liked growing to fame living in LA and talking about how interesting it would be to be youtubers yourselves. After a bit of joking, you had decided to make a channel, quickly amassing about 500 subscribers within a month due to your fun-loving and positive nature. You spoke about all different kinds of things, ranging from serious topics to simple and fun videos about your favorite things. After a few more months of gaining subscribers (now at about 1.5k) you decided to move to LA yourself, unfortunately leaving a few friends and family behind but it was worth it considering they were just a phone call away. You were now living in LA with a small but nice apartment and a job at a vegan bakery just to get some money saved up while your channel grew. Within a few months, you hit 3,000 subscribers but still worked at the bakery where you noticed the same two guys coming in every day.

The first time you noticed them it had been kind of a slow day, they had come in looking like they recently came back from the beach; hair wet, swimming trunks on, and flip flops on their feet. They ordered from you very sweetly, making sure to be polite as they requested a black coffee each as well as a couple of the featured scones. They waited as you were almost distracted by how familiar the two were, studying their faces as you handed them their order. They thanked you and left, coming back almost every day after that. Taking their orders every day made you realize that they were youtubers, the Dolan twins actually, who you weren’t a viewer of but rather a few of your friends back home were so they’d be shocked to hear that you had been serving up their food for the past couple weeks. Eventually you became closer and closer to them, getting their numbers and even going out to lunch with them a couple times. After about a month of knowing them your subscribers had skyrocketed to 10k and you could officially bring in enough income to quit your job. You loved your coworkers and would hate to leave them but you let your boss know and went on your way to fulfill your true dream.

The twins had thrown you a small party at their house when you hit the big milestone, getting you balloons and getting a pint of your favorite ice cream for you all to sit down and eat together. Afterwards a movie was put on and you ended up falling asleep with your head on Grayson’s lap where he was sitting on the couch. He was still awake but you looked so precious when you slept that he just decided to go to sleep right there with you, leaning his head back to the couch cushion to be comfortable. The three of you woke up the next morning, you being the first as you rose off of Grayson, stretching your limbs out to get rid of the sleepiness in your muscles. You walked over to the kitchen and got a few things out to make breakfast, your time at the bakery really paying off in making some fresh bread and muffins, all vegan of course. Soon after you put the muffins into the oven Grayson woke up and walked over to you.

“Good morning Morgs. Surprised you’re the first one up.” He laughs, moving around you to grab a couple mugs from the cabinet next to you before pouring you both cups of coffee.

“Yeah yeah Mr. early riser. Just be grateful I’m making something so delicious for you two.” You smile, returning to the muffins after the oven made a beeping noise and taking them out carefully. You had a purple oven mitt covering your hand but accidentally bumped your wrist against the hot rack that they had been set on. You almost throw the tin down onto the counter, moving your other hand to quickly grab the spot on your wrist where you were burned.

“Fuck Morgan be careful.” Grayson put down his coffee as soon as he saw what had happened and pulled you over to the sink, forcing the burn under the cold water that soon became soothing.

“Sorry Gray I just didn’t realize-” He interrupts you.

“No no it’s okay I just don’t want you getting hurt, you’re my best friend ya know? Don’t want anything happening to you.” He smiles but there’s a look in his eyes hidden beneath the normal caring of a best friend. You brush off your thoughts and just give him a small smile, your wrist still aching with a slight pain. Grayson whisks away to grab a bandage and brings it back to you, rubbing a small piece of tissue over the burn before placing it on you. He brought your hand to his face and pressed a small kiss on the bandaid.

“There,” he smiled, “all better.” He moved the muffins onto a plate for you, not wanting you to get hurt again and also removed the bread from the oven since it had finished while you were being bandaged up. You thanked him, he brushed it off as no big deal as always and Ethan woke up and wandered into the kitchen. The three of you sat at the dining table for breakfast, telling Ethan what had happened to get those muffins and just making small conversation. The boys thanked you and went on with their days, fixing up a few things around the house with your help and just doing some chores they had been putting off. You stayed until about 5 pm, when you unfortunately had to bid them adieu and go back to your own home. You made the drive over, unlocking your door and making your way to your room to film a new video for your subscribers. After finishing up with the bedtime routine video you decided to do, you cleaned up your filming equipment and went to bed.

***

The next morning you went over to the twins house again, it had really become your new routine. You would wake up, grab some breakfast, and go to their house to just hang out. After all, they were really the only friends you made in LA so far since many of the people you met had been extremely toxic, only there to make connections and get famous for the wrong reasons. So as always you walked right in, you had a key to the place after all, and made your way to Grayson’s room. He was sitting on his bed shirtless just scrolling through his phone.

“Grayyyy” You whined.

His head shot up at your voice and a smile spread across his face.

“Morgaaaaaan.” He mimicked your tone and rose from bed, walking over to wrap his arms around you in a hug. You reciprocated the hug, laying the side of your face on his bare chest and just inhaling his natural scent of general nature.

“Wanna do something today.” You mumbled, finding comfort in his large arms squishing you into him.

“Then let's go somewhere. Go ahead and get Ethan while I get dressed.” He pulls away from you, placing his hands on your shoulders before lightly pushing you away to go talk to his twin.

You walked into the living room where Ethan was sitting playing some video games and tapped him on the shoulder, slightly scaring him.

“Morgan I didn’t even know you were here.” He laughs. You simply smile in return.

“I wanna do something today so c’mon Grayson is getting dressed and you’re already dressed apparently so let’s go get the car started. “ You started making your way to the door before he could even give you an answer.

“I don’t wanna go anywhere today, do I have to?” He groaned, pausing his game to pout his lips at you.

“I mean like you don’t have to, I just figured you’d want to spend time with your two best friends but it’s fine.” You jokingly sass him before yelling to Gray that you’ll be in the car and making your way out.

“Thank you Morgs.” Ethan yells out the door, returning to his game.

“Yeah, yeah.” You yell back, shaking your head and laughing. Alone with Grayson. It wasn’t the first time as the two of you had gone out to breakfast together when Ethan was still sleeping on some days, but it was definitely different this time. It was the middle of the day, and you’d probably spend the entire day together. You sat in the Porsche and Grayson joined you, placing himself in the driver’s seat and starting the car.

“Well, where do you wanna go?” He asked, turning his head to look at you.

You simply turned back to him and placed a hand on his shoulder dramatically.

“Surprise me.”

The two of you made your way about three hours, going to a large forest containing a river as well as many different hiking trails. After taking a few water bottles from the trunk, you two made your way up to the medium difficulty trail, just walking and talking your way up to the top of the mountain. Once you could overlook the valley as the sun set, it felt extremely romantic for a pair of best friends. That’s when the two of you sat on the bench placed on the almost edge of the canyon and took a rest, just absorbing the atmosphere around you and the cool evening air. Grayson rested his head on your shoulder, something the two of you normally did but it felt different this time. You were just thinking about it when you felt him move his head to look up at you. You turned to him and that’s when it happened. He moved forward a bit and connected his lips to yours, soft plush skin melding together in the perfect kiss. You reciprocated, softly and slowly allowing yourself to get lost in it all as a warm breeze swept past the two of you.

Grayson pulled back first, looking into your eyes and letting his tongue glide across his lips. You gave him one more kiss before finally pulling away to gather your thoughts.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.” He admits, a slight blush rising on his face.

“I’m glad you did.” You smiled before the two of you returned to watching the sunset, hands intertwined.

***

For the next week you and Grayson kept your new found relationship hidden from Ethan, wanting to make sure that all would be okay before confessing what had happened. Today was the day though, so the two of you decided to talk to Ethan and tell him all that had happened. The three of you now sat in the living room, you and Gray sitting a little too close to be friends and Ethan giving the two of you a look of suspicion.

“So, Ethan, we wanted to just tell you…” You began.

“Me and Morgan are together!” Grayson blurts out, a large smile spread across his face.

Ethan opens his mouth in fake astonishment before just laughing.

“You think I didn’t see how close you guys have been being? I woke up early to go to the bathroom the other day and Grayson smacked your ass in the kitchen.” He continues laughing at the fact that you guys believed that you actually hid your relationship from him.

You and Grayson look at each other, embarrassed, but laughing along with Ethan before getting up and going into the kitchen to get some water alone. You can hear the two of them talk while you’re in there, pausing to listen in on their conversation.

“Damn Gray look at you go, how long did you have a crush on her before you finally did something? Like six months? Or was it when you first saw her at the bakery?” Ethan teases.

“Shut up E, at least I did something about it.” He playfully shoves his older brother, laughing as he dramatically flops down on the couch. You walk back in with a bottle of water, laughing at the boys’ behavior, and tap Grayson’s shoulder for him to sit down so that you could perch yourself on his lap. Together, you two are just enjoying each other’s company and watching movies for the rest of the day.

***

About a month in, the two of you have slept together many times but it was always the same. It wasn’t that it was bad or anything but you wanted to venture out and try new things, but both of you were too nervous to say anything about it. That’s when you decided, with the help of talking to your best friend, that you were going to try something new tonight.

You walked over to where Grayson was sitting on the couch in the living room, laptop on his lap to edit the newest video. At the sight of you, he lifted his head a bit to give you a smile but soon went back to the work at hand. You sat on the couch directly next to him and rested your head on his shoulder before turning your head up a bit to press kisses on his neck. He leans into it at first, loving the feeling of your lips pressed against the thick muscles in his neck but quickly pulls away.

“Baby, you know I need to finish this video. The fans are expecting it tomorrow.” He puts his full attention towards the video again, deleting and moving parts around to form something he knew everyone would love.

You moved closer to him, letting your hand rest on his thigh and rubbing it gently. Slowly, you moved your hand closer and closer to where you knew he truly wanted you. He whined, letting your hand cover the bulge in his shorts as you gripped him slightly.

“Fuck this.” He moves his laptop off of his lap and on to the table in front of the two of you and grabs you up off of the couch,pulling you into his body. He kissed you harshly, taking your ass in his large hands and squeezing. You moaned into his mouth before allowing his tongue to take dominance over yours.

“Gray,” You’re already almost breathless as you speak to him, “wanna do more. Want it rougher.”

He looks you straight in the eyes, almost not believing what you’re saying.

“Are you sure sweetheart?” His voice goes soft.

“Mhm. I don’t think I’ll need it but the safe word will be strawberry.” You smile up at him.

“Okay Morgan. ‘M so fuckin lucky to have you baby.” He smirks before grabbing your face and pressing a rough kiss on to your lips again, guiding you slowly to walk towards his bedroom. Once you entered the room, he pushed you back harshly on to the bed before ripping your leggings off from the middle seam that ran between your legs.

“Gray-” You try to reprimand him for ripping your leggings but he quickly stops his actions and looks right up at you.

“What, slut? Have something to say?” He growls, making direct eye contact as he kneels down in between your spread legs.

You just shake your head, biting your lip.

“Good girl.” Grayson praises you, making his way up your thick thighs with slight bites and kisses against your milky white skin before reaching right where he wanted to be. He ran his tongue against you roughly, collecting your wetness on his tongue before plunging it directly into your tight pink hole. You let out a high pitched moan, legs almost closing around his head before he grips both thighs tightly, pushing them away from his head and giving you a stern look.

“Morgan?” He asks, a sharp glint in his eyes. You simply look down at him. “Don’t just look at me, fuckin talk.”

His demanding tone sets something off in you.

“Yes sir.” You practically moan out the words, his fingertips still diggin into the flesh of your soft marked up thighs.

“Don’t fuckin move your legs or you’ll get nothing.” He demands.

“I’m sorry Grayson.” You pout your lips and you can see his dominance falter a bit before returning.

“F’kn better be.” He mumbles, returning back to licking up all your leaking juices before moving his hand up and plunging two fingers deep into you, causing you to clench around him and make your hole even tighter than it was before.

“Gray-please please can I cum? Please Grayson lemme cum.” Your eyes are tearing up at the fast pace he’s achieved while he completely ignores you, going even faster. The sounds of him moving in and out of you are so dirty but simultaneously are like music to your ears. Fingers moving in and out of you as fast as they can go, Grayson places his tongue on your clit and gives the softest of licks at a consistent pace. The combination of fast and soft set you off and you’re cumming around him, but instead of stopping there he keeps going. You’re too sensitive and you’re scared of doing something you’ve never done before.

Until it happens.

Grayson’s fingers are deep into you after your orgasm, hitting that spot in just the right way and you feel something break inside you. Next thing you know you’re squirting all around his fingers, almost blacking out at how amazing it feels before he’s pushing his cock into you. He bottoms out completely, balls slapping against your ass as you writhe on the bed and grip the sheets as tight as you can.

“Fuck Morgan that was so hot, squirting all around me like a little whore. My little slut, so so sweet baby so nice. Feel so good around me.” He’s letting words just fall from his mouth like a waterfall at this point, feeling your pussy clench around him so nicely that he cums right then and there. His hot cum pumps into you and he pulls out, watching it slip out of you and dribble down onto the bed. His eyes follow his own cum for a moment before he gets an idea. Grayson’s tongue moves directly to your hole and he scoops up the mixture of the two of you and holds it in his mouth before straddling your body and grabbing your cheeks to open your mouth. You stick your tongue out a bit as he spits into your mouth before closing it and swallowing the sweet concoction.

“Grayson that was so good.” You say, completely out of breath.

He plops down next to you on the bed and laughs, smiling and looking over at you.

“Yeah it was. I’ll buy you some new leggings this weekend though. Promise.”

***

The next few weeks go on as normal, trying out different things in and out of the bedroom. You had a deal that each new thing that you did with friends or just together, you’d also do a new thing regarding your more personal lives together. So since the two of you went to a bonfire with a group of friends, Grayson tied you up that night. And since Grayson took you to a new place to eat another day, you rode him that night while his hands were handcuffed above him. What you really wanted to try though, was what you had been waiting for today. The two of you, including Ethan and a couple other friends all went surfing. You had been reluctant to go, particularly because you didn’t know how to surf. The twins both offered to help but you were still wary about getting swept up by any waves. Anxiety ate away at you until Grayson finally convinced you to go, promising that if you wanted to stop at any time you could.

So here you were, standing in a wetsuit on the beach with a blue surfboard in your hands. Grayson showed you a few stances to take on the board while you were still on the sand before having you swim out a bit into the water on your board to watch him. You took in the way he quickly moved his feet up and into the middle before slightly crouching to ride a pretty decent sized wave. When it was your turn, your stomach was in knots but you had promised to try for Grayson. So you did as he said and got hold of a small wave, pushing you up and over it and closer to the sand. You almost tripped a bit at the end but you caught yourself, looked back at Grayson and raised your hands in victory. He swam over to the shore where you were and gave you a huge hug.

“Morgan! You fuckin’ did it! I’m so proud!” He’s shouting his congratulations as the rest of your guys’ friends clap for you out in the water. Your face goes red as Grayson hugs you and you mutter out a small thanks, a smile spread across your face. The rest of the day goes on spending time surfing, laying on the beach, and eating some good food from the snack shack on the beach. But since you went through all of that for Grayson he should reciprocate, right?

That night the two of you were laying in bed when he started playing with your hand, then moving his hand down to under your shorts, rubbing you through your thong. You moaned a bit at the feeling but quickly moved his hand away, looking at you in confusion.

“Baby you said earlier you wanted to do something tonight, did you change your mind?” He asks, a bit upset but understanding if you’re not in the mood to do anything anymore.

“Gray no I still wanna do something I promise. But I’m in control.” You smirk as his eyes get a little wider, knowing he’s in for a treat. Grayson never really showed his more submissive side, wanting to be a “real man” for you, but you knew he secretly loved being bossed around.

“Strip.” You demanded, getting up on your knees on the bed to watch him. He got off and stood on the other side of the bed and took off all of his clothes before returning back in front of you.

“Get on all fours.” At your request, he looks a little wary so you give him a kiss before placing a hand between his shoulder blades to lightly guide him down. You had seen him shower right when the two of you got home, washing the sand and sea from his body, so you decided right now was the best time. You crawled around to be behind him, his eyes focusing on the dashboard while yours focused on the way his ass was up for you, giving you access to his tight little hole. Hand reaching around to stroke him, you leaned forward and gave small kisses to the back of his thighs, rising to his butt before giving a harsh bite on his right cheek. A squeak jumps from his mouth at the surprise as he lurches forward a bit.

You simply grin, stroking him a little more before pressing one soft kiss on his tight ring. He gasps, surprised by how good it feels.

“Like it Gray?” You ask, genuinely wanting him to let you know how he feels since you always want him to be comfortable.

“Mmmm” He hums, “Love it Morgs. Feels so good.” You can almost hear the smile on his face at his words.

“Good.” You lick a stripe across the forbidden entry before blowing on the spit left behind for a cooling effect. He lets out a soft moan before pushing his ass back towards you for more. You lick around him in a circle before plunging your tongue into him, slowly fucking the soft warm muscle into him. The entire time the hand not holding you up is stroking Grayson’s cock, precum leaking on to your hand. You switch hands and pull your tongue away, letting your finger covered in precum gently slip into him before sliding it right back out. You reach behind where you are sitting and grab a small bottle of lube that you had secretly placed there before everything got started, squirting a generous amount both on Grayson’s tight ring of muscle and your finger.

Gently and slowly, you slide your finger back in before working in another one. Your other hand is stroking him in the opposite direction of your fingers working inside of him as you quicken the pace. He’s now groaning almost animalistically at how good it feels, pushing back on to your fingers as you leave kisses all over his left cheek. Hands moving even faster on both ends, you can hear his whines get louder and louder as he cums on your hand. You remove your fingers from him as well as the hand that was wrapped around his cock and lick off the cum. Quickly going to the bathroom right next to the bed, you grab a towel and wipe off your lube covered hand. Grayson has fallen forward on to the bed, cock still aching at what just happened. He finds himself getting hard again, rubbing himself on the soft blankets beneath him before you notice what’s going on.

“Oh baby,” you almost feel bad for how needy he looks grinding against the blankets, “I’m right here there’s no need for the blankets. Wouldn’t you rather be inside me?”

He immediately stops, turning his head towards you with bright eyes before getting up quickly and allowing you to lay down on your back. You spread your legs and he pulls you to the end of the bed, immediately sheathing himself inside of you. You groan as he fucks into you, tip just brushing your cervix light enough so that it doesn’t hurt you too bad.

“M-morgan you’re so- fuck- tight, so pretty, so nice w-wrapped around me.” He stutters through his sentences, plunging himself in all the way before cumming inside of you. Grayson pulls out slowly, trying to keep all of his cum inside of you. He quickly gets on to his knees, eye to eye with your pretty pink hole.

“Push it out. Wanna watch it drip from your cunt.” His voice is almost a growl as you obey him, contracting your muscles and letting them relax to allow his cum to drip from you. Soon you feel his warm tongue licking up the mix of his cum with yours and you whine softly. After he’s done, he gives you a soft kiss.

“We should do that more often.” He gives you a soft sweet smile, completely contradicting all of the dirty things you two had done.

“We really should.” You smile back at him, spending the rest of the night cuddling in bed before falling asleep wrapped in each other’s arms.

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #vinylhazza #aka #morgs #fruit loop #my baby hehe #me #mine #my writing #dolan twins smut #grayson dolan smut #dolan twins fanfiction #grayson dolan fanfiction

285 notes · View notes

nelllraiser · 3 years

Text

those magic changes | eddie & nell

TIMING: before nell was yoinked into the hellscape. LOCATION: gallows grove. PARTIES: @specterchasing & @nelllraiser. SUMMARY: eddie and nell have some much needed post-highschool catching up while a spawn tries to catch them up. CONTAINS: sucidal ideation (eddie’s general disregard for his life).

The Bend, also known as the bad part of town, also known as Eddie’s favorite part of town, looked particularly derelict the day he and Nell decided to meet up. The sun hung low overhead, threatening to swap places with the moon at any moment. Meanwhile, within the depths of the sewers, an especially hungry vampire awaited the transition with rapidly diminishing patience. His sire botched his shot at immortality, making him a mindless spawn but, what he lacked in brains, he made up for in brutality.

Eddie parked outside a stretch of abandoned homes only a few blocks away from the spawn’s location. He took a sweeping glance at his surroundings, but there was no one in sight. His hand slipped into his back pocket and retrieved his phone before texting Nell in search of an update.

[Text to Nellspawn]: It’s 7:46 and we agreed on meeting at 7:45.

[Text to Nellspawn]: If you hate me, say it to my face, coward. ):

Nell crept up to Eddie’s car like a cat, making not a single sound as she ducked below the side of it- for once grateful that she was shorter than was ideal. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she smirked as she read the illuminated words on the screen. In the blink of an eye she was jumping from her hiding spot into Eddie’s window, slamming the screen of her phone against the driver’s side window of Eddie’s car as she yelled out. “I got your text!” Hopefully he’d at least jump a little. Or maybe she’d be so lucky as to get a small little scream that she could mock him for.

Out of nowhere, Nell popped into Eddie’s peripheral vision and his heart leapt into his throat. He jumped in his seat, clutching his chest with wide eyes. “Holy fucking shit,” he breathed. As he gradually calmed down, his expression of terror turned into one of utter disdain. Eddie rolled down the window, glaring up at Nell. “Hey, could you do me a favor and stand in front of my car for a second?” he asked. “I promise I’ll make it quick.”

Nell practically cackled as she watched the fear very possibly shave a few years off Eddie’s life, sticking her tongue out at him through the window. “Surprise! I could tell you’re really happy to see me. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone look like that since the time I saw a toddler witnessing their first boggart going in on the peanut butter aisle of the grocery store.” Just in case he didn’t pick up on what she was insinuating, she made sure to rub it in. “Get it? I’m comparing you to a toddler. A small child.” Rolling her eyes she took a step back from the car door, giving him room should he choose to open it. “As if your car would stand a chance against me. I’m made of steel.” For a moment she flexed her arms in the classic pose, though you couldn’t begin to see anything past the looser sleeves of her jacket. There was simply something about seeing Eddie that made her feel as if she were as careless as the day she’d left White Crest. As if all the terrible things since then hadn’t come to pass. He was clean- a slate that wasn’t marred by being present for any of the atrocities of the past year or so.

Eddie willed himself to continue glaring at her, but the truth was that it felt good to hear her laugh again. Like most, Eddie viewed high school as hell on earth, but drama class with Nell gave him a sliver of hope to hold onto each day. “You’re three feet tall, you don’t get to call me a toddler.” Eddie rolled the window up and stepped out of the car. “It might take a few tries, but you know what they say about wills and ways,” he said, finally giving in to the urge to grin. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her—graduation, maybe. Those years were more blurs than memories at this point. “Fuck it,” he said before taking a step closer and pulling her into a hug.

“I am not!” Nell stomped petulantly against the ground, not entirely helping her case. “I’m just saying if the toddler stroller fits you- who am I to argue?” Nevertheless her own grin was still bright on her lips, feeling lighter by the second the faster she and Eddie fell into old ways. It’d been..shit- it’d been almost six years, but it felt all too easy to pick up where they’d left off. “Yeah- they say Penelope Vural has the strongest will and the best ways, and no car’s ever gonna stop her.” Her laugh was lighter, less sharp as he stepped forward for a hug, and she embraced him back without hesitation. “I can’t believe you’ve gone soft on me, Carridine,” she teased before her gaze flickered over his shoulder to the nearby cemetery. “So you’re still stupidly bent on getting yourself snacked on in there?” One of the things that she and Eddie unfortunately had in common was that they were nearly impossible to sway once they’d made up their minds to do something idiotic. And she wasn’t keen to watch while White Crest swallowed up the friend she’d only just reunited with.

She hadn’t changed, not from what he’d seen so far. It felt like stepping out of a time machine and reliving a period in his life when the most pressing issues he faced revolved around timed tests and peer pressure. “It’s your fault for leaving me, Vural,” Eddie replied, giving her a tight squeeze before stepping back and shoving his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “It’s not stupid if you film it, then it’s art,” he said as he backed up a few steps closer to the rear door of his car. He turned on his heels and pulled the hand before ducking in to grab his filming equipment. “Besides, we might not even run into anything worthwhile,” he said with a shrug as he pulled the bag’s strap onto his shoulder.

The physical scars Nell had gained since seeing Eddie were tucked away under layers of clothing, always prone to the cold. Thankfully it seemed the scars on her soul had seen fit to fade into the background for the moment being as well, leaving her to freely bask in the warmth of Eddie’s company. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about going to cry in a Subway again,” she joked dryly, folding her arms over her chest. “I’m pretty sure that makes it more stupid, actually.” If this had been six years ago she most likely would have been all for diving headlong into a cemetery, and she’d still do that if it was only her going in. But there was another life at stake here as well, and it wasn’t one she was willing to risk. “Yeah- we’ll see.” She was too jaded at this point to feel optimistic about not running into something lurking in the cemetery, already knowing vampires loved to lurk in their shadows. She’d brought a stake just in case, more than ready for if things went south.

“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it,” Eddie advised in response to her comment about shedding tears in sandwich shops. His hand raised and mimicked a flapping jaw at her next comment. Whether or not his plans were stupid, it wouldn’t stop him. His already poor decision-making continued to deteriorate with each passing day. He told Bex he would be careful but, as much as he didn’t want to disappoint her, he didn’t know the first thing about showing caution. And, frankly, he showed no interest in learning. Eddie’s outlook on life made being alive out to be more of a chore than a priceless gift.

“You wanna do an intro for the channel?” he asked, digging out his camera. “Or did you somehow become the type of person who values anonymity?” Eddie’s brow raised at Nell as he walked passed her en route to the cemetery.

“No- I don’t think I’ll be trying it, thanks. I would, but it makes it a little hard since I have something called dignity. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t expect you to be familiar with the concept. I will keep knocking it, though,” Nell teased, that same playful glint still making a home in her eyes. “Wow!” The word was stretched out as long as she could make it last, offense plain to see in the way her eyebrows had raised towards her hairline. “I can’t believe you just admitted you don’t watch any of the TikToks I make for the newspaper. You think I’d be doing that if I valued anonymity?” She still wasn’t sure how she’d managed to land the job, reveling in the pay and benefits for the minimal amount of work she did.

“You’d be lucky to have me in your intro!” In another moment she was parroting the old intro she’d seen on his channel the times she’d tuned in, letting the words fall none too sweetly as she poked fun at him. She was pretty sure the camera wasn’t even out yet- but that didn’t have her hesitating.

“Dignity,” Eddie mused, sounding as if he were trying to dredge up the definition from deep within his memory banks. “You’re right, I’m drawing a blank. Is dignity the reason you got drunk at Hayden Dane’s house party and asked everyone for soap to appease the bathroom demon? Yeah, I don’t think I have that.” He shrugged all the way up to his ears. It didn’t occur to him that a demon actually did take up roost in Hayden’s bathroom, explaining why his house burned down two days later. Eddie knew a lot about ghosts and decidedly less about infernal imps.

“There’s a pretty big difference between newspaper TikToks and showing your face on a YouTube channel exposing White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” he replied with a glance. “Most people don’t want to be associated with it. I actually watch your content all the time. It’s… kind of how I learned you were back in town and had been for a while.” A year of radio silence. No point acting like it didn’t sting a little.

At the sound of Nell repeating his old intro back at him, Eddie clutched his chest in despair. “No,” he whined, turning to face her again. “Let it stay dead, Nell. I’m not that person anymore.” The camera in his hand raised in her direction. “Here’s your chance at YouTube fame. If you embarrass me, I’ll get your house haunted.”

Nell rolled her eyes fondly at the memory of the little Bannik that she’d found in Hayden’s bathroom, having been utterly thrilled to stumble across a demon in her drunken state. It had been in the midst of her beginning to acquaint herself with the demon species and portals— so of course she’d been all too eager to find some soap for the little creature. “You’re lucky I was there to appease the bathroom demon. You all would have been long gone if it wasn’t for my quick thinking.” Were Banniks actually all that dangerous? Absolutely not. But Eddie didn’t need to know that.

“Mhm- White Crest’s supernatural underbelly,” she repeated dryly, still not all that pleased that Eddie had made it his life’s mission to single handedly crack open supernatural secrecy. “You know that’s a great way to get people killed, right? What you’re doing with your videos and stuff?”

Stepping through the threshold of the cemetery, Nell’s mouth was already propped open to give her next quip of a reply when a chill ran down her spine. Whether it was the product of being attacked from the shadows one too many times, or an actual premonition- she was suddenly quiet. She began to scan the tombstones with a sharp eye, as if something might be lurking behind them. Then...a low snarling sound, and Nell realized she’d been right to have come as Eddie’s personal bodyguard. “Shut up,” she hissed, already trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, a hand slipping one of her hidden stakes from its hiding place.

Eddie eyed Nell skeptically. “Uh-huh,” he uttered. The likelihood of Nell being right about the soap-loving fiend was actually pretty high, but Eddie didn’t care to admit that. He much preferred giving her a hard time, and the feeling seemed mutual enough to dissuade any guilt.

“You know what else is a great way to get people killed? Keeping them ignorant,” Eddie retaliated without missing a beat. “So long as I try to avoid outing individuals, I’m pretty sure I’m in the clear.” This was an argument he knew well, the beginning of it anyway. People didn’t usually bother trying to correct him once they knew how firmly he stood his ground. They saw him as a lost cause, he saw them as uninformed.

Nell seemed on-edge, which Eddie didn’t understand. As much time as he spent in graveyards, he never developed a sixth sense for danger. Mostly, out of lack of interest. “Yeah, that’s a great intro,” he deadpanned. The sight of a stake made him lower his camera. “What are you doing? Now’s not the time to showcase your Buffy cosplay.” He didn’t hear the growl over his own voice.

Nell had never backed down from a fight, argument, or otherwise in her entire life, her stubbornness and determination matching Eddie’s in a way that hadn’t been fully explored quite yet. After all, they’d agreed on most things in highschool, but as was often the case with the supernatural— things got far more complicated when it entered the picture, and relationships were no exception. So she was more than ready to fire back a retort before another growl pierced the night air, and she shushed Eddie once again. “I said shu-” But her words didn’t meet and end as the spawn finally leapt from the shadows taking advantage of her momentary distraction to begin its attack.

Rolling in a smooth and practiced maneuver, Nell clutched the stake like a lifeline in her hand staying low to the ground as she readied her magic should she need it. “Don’t move,” she gave Eddie another command as she tried to draw a large circle around the spawn with her footsteps. But the thing had taken one look at the stake in her hand and decided to go for the easier target. In the blink of an eye, the spawn had shifted course, turning towards Eddie with bloodlust in its eyes.

Eddie let out a startled laugh at the sight of the vampire, his usual reaction to imminent danger. He instinctively raised the camera as Nell momentarily outsmarted the beast. Asking her where she learned a maneuver like that would have to wait.

“Gonna have to deliberately disobey that order,” Eddie said once the spawn locked onto him. A familiar surge of adrenaline flooded his system and Eddie jouked to the right, an outstretched hand commanding a small cross to fly from a nearby grave into his grip. He was lacking in the faith department, but desperate times called for desperate measures. “Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off,” he chanted as he waved it in the spawn’s direction.

The raising of his camera wasn’t lost on Nell, and she shook her head in disbelief as the spawn tore after Eddie. Really? Even now Eddie was trying to get a shot? “You can’t upload a video if you die, dumbass!” Nell yelled, already hot on the spawn’s trail while it flew after Eddie like a bat out of hell. Which...wasn’t actually all that terrible a description of the lesser vampire when Nell thought about it. At least her friend had enough sense to arm himself with some religious memorabilia, though the spawn had yet to spot it while being far too intent on having its next meal.

The creature was faster than Nell could have ever been without a hunter gene or otherwise, but thankfully she had her own tricks up her sleeve. Casting one of her oft-used spells when it came to fighting, her speed was instantly buffed, and she became a blur even quicker than the spawn. The burst was enough to get her on top of the spawn and send herself barreling into the side of it, trying to find purchase with her stake. She was by no means all that large of a projectile standing at only 5’2 and having a slight build, but the momentum she’d gathered was enough to shoot the spawn off its path. The spawn was quick to recover, snapping at the hand that held her wooden point and clamping its jaws down on her wrist. With a curse falling from her lips, the weapon was forced out of her hand.

“What the fuck?” Eddie exclaimed when a Nell-sized blur collided with the vampire. Questions piled up, giving him a reason to outlast the encounter. The spawn recalibrated with deadly quickness, and blood subsequently flowed from Nell’s wrist. As much as Eddie liked to pretend situations like this fit his laissez faire narrative, he couldn’t stand idly by while someone he cared about bled for his mistakes.

His camera hit the ground while his feet carried him to Nell’s side. With little regard for his own wellbeing, Eddie pressed the cross to the side of the spawn’s head. It sizzled against the wrinkled skin, sending the creature reeling backwards with a shriek.

“You dropped this,” Eddie said breathlessly as he floated the stake to Nell’s uninjured hand, hoping she would take hold of it. He stayed next to her, holding out the cross to hopefully keep the beast at bay long enough for Nell to plan out her next move. But it looked hungry and Eddie couldn’t imagine it had much patience.

Nell grimaced while she did her best to ignore the injured wrist, giving Eddie a grateful nod as she caught the stake he’d floated in her direction. She couldn’t deny that she was enthralled by the encounter with the spawn, and she would have been enjoying herself even more if Eddie hadn’t been involved in the crossfire. Not for the first time, she felt like she was back in the Ring, fighting for her life and the winnings of those who’d bet on her. She couldn’t deny that she missed the rush of battling for her life, and the roar of the crowd.

The cross move had been smart on Eddie’s part, and Nell supposed she should at least count herself lucky that he knew enough to know what had the ability to ward off vampires. “Just go-” she began to say, unwilling to risk Eddie’s life any further. She didn’t wait to see if he’d obeyed, once again rushing forward with a speed she shouldn’t have possessed. The stake in her good hand plunged forwards through the spawn’s chest, but her efforts were fruitless beyond making the creature even angrier. At the last second it’d darted to the side, shifting just enough for the point to miss its heart.

With a growl of frustration, Nell decided she was done with trying to hit a moving target. She kicked a leg into the air to hook it behind the thing’s head, using her momentum to swing herself up by the crook of her knee until she’d sat herself on the spawn’s shoulders, hands placed on either side of its head. “Just gotta bring the inside out,” she reminded herself as she gripped her magic tight. She could feel it’s sludge-like blood responding to her will as it’s head began to fill with more than it could hold. Pulling her hands from the creature’s head, she tugged on the blood she’d pooled, bursting the spawn’s head in an explosion of brains and viscera. With the remains of the spawn painting her front, she slipped from it’s twitching body, catching her breath while she looked to see where Eddie might have gone.

Nell told him to go, but Eddie couldn’t look away, let alone move. She climbed the vampire with precision and put a bloody end to it. He went momentarily slack-jawed. “What the fuck?” he breathed, sounding like a broken record. Eddie trudged towards Nell, remembering a final obstacle stood between him and the answers he wanted so badly. He placed the cross in his back pocket, making a mental note to return it to its rightful grave before they left, and reached out for her injured wrist.

“Can I take a look at it?” he asked timidly, wanting to make up for the harm he caused her. “Or do you have some kind of spell for that, too?” He eyed her curiously, fine with either answer. If she had a handle on her blood loss, he would need to figure out a new way to make tonight up to her, but he could work with that. “I think the best I can do is a band-aid, anyway.” He offered her an apologetic shrug.

Nell fixed Eddie with a disapproving look the moment she realized he hadn’t actually moved an inch since she’d told him to leave. “You know- usually the best way not to get killed is to listen to me.” Mindlessly, she let him take her wrist, not entirely having expected him to ask for it, but offering it nonetheless. Her head tilted in amusement as he mentioned spells, realizing he’d already pegged what was going on. “You mean you’re not buying the whole- I just got really buff after highschool or something like that?” To be fair she had gained more muscle, but it was of a leaner make than anything a bodybuilder might have.

“Well- it’s not really...a spell but-” As he eyed her wrist she willed the blood to clot where the skin had been broken, once again flexing her bloodkinesis as the wound scabbed over. “I can just do that for the most part. I never really learned a lot of healing.” She gave him a smile anyway, coming down from the high of the kill slowly but surely. “You can still put a band-aid on it though, if you want,” she teased, though thankful for his concern.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” Eddie replied flippantly. For Nell’s sake, he kept his indifference towards death light-hearted. Whichever way the wind blew, Eddie didn’t mind much. Either he lived another day, or he didn’t. In his opinion, both options seemed eerily similar. “We can play pretend, if you want, but I’d rather pick your brain about magic.” He knew another spellcaster, Bex, but she didn’t seem as advanced as Nell. “God, how did it take me this long to figure it out?”

Nell healed herself, in a sense, and Eddie’s eyes widened with delight. “So cool,” he said, catching her gaze again. “You don’t have to coddle me. I get it, you’re all tough and scary now. Way beyond band-aids.” As he spoke, he meandered back to the grave he’d stolen from and returned the cross with a quiet apology. Ghost or not, they deserved more respect than he’d given them.

Returning to Nell, Eddie knew better than to think they’d walk back to his car without a good lecture. “I’m fully prepared to be scolded now, by the way. Hit me with your best shot.”

Eddie might have thought his jokes about dying were landing decently, but Nell’s face didn’t so much as twitch into a smile as he spoke the words. After the last year...after the last six years she knew that death wasn’t a joke. She supposed it made sense that Eddie would have a skewed vision of it as a medium, but that didn’t mean she had to encourage him. Maybe he’d feel differently if he’d watched someone he loved die, woken up covered in her blood with her headless body lying next to him on the ground. Shaking her head to dispel the dark memory, she simply sent him another stern glare. “No fun in dying, really.” She wasn’t going to entertain his frivolity when it came to his life. But magic was easier to talk about, and something that wasn’t tainted by her trauma. Her voice grew lighter again, curious to know what he himself was curious about. “Sure- what do you wanna know? Or how much do you know already? It probably just took you so long cause you couldn’t see around your giant hair,” she teased, leaning on an old laugh.

Another little smile crossed her face while she watched his reaction to the magic, always thinking it endearing the reactions of those who were less acquainted with it. “Actually I’ve always been scary and tough, thank you very much,” she joked with a wrinkle of her nose— even though she’d gotten in more than her fair share of fights in highschool.

Picking up his busted camera from the ground, Nell thumbed some dirt from it’s lens before taking a closer look, trying to figure out if a simple repair spell might have it back in working condition. He’d asked for a lecure, and she was left wondering when she’d become the kind of person who doled them out. “This isn’t a game, Eddie,” she began seriously. She should have known the levity of the start of the evening wouldn’t last. Not in a place like White Crest. “You can’t just waltz into supernatural infested areas without protection. And you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.”

Nell didn’t laugh, but that was nothing new. Eddie understood that most people took death more seriously than he did, and he knew they had their reasons. On the other hand, their solemnity didn’t invalidate his indifference. He preferred not caring, it made life easier. The subject-change suited him just fine, however. “The conditioner I use doesn’t help either, eats at the brain cells, y’know,” he said, going along with her joke. “I’ll be honest, I don’t know much. Magic’s fascinating, but I’ve always been satisfied with the whole telekinesis thing, so I didn’t do much digging. So, feel free to talk to me like I’m an idiot, not that you need my encouragement,” he teased.

“Taking on a vampire is a little different than maiming Cindy S,” he playfully corrected her. Eddie knew Nell had never been a push-over, but this was groundbreaking as far as he was concerned.

As expected, she provided words of warning. He nodded along absently, his eyes fixed on the camera in her hands. If he kept up at this rate, he wouldn’t be filming for much longer, anyway. Lack of equipment meant lack of content. “And, why is that?” he asked curiously when she finished bending his ear. He figured he knew the reason, or at least the jist, but he wanted to give Nell the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, her reasoning wouldn’t be as boring as everyone else’s.

“We both know that’s a lie because you don’t have any brain cells to eat,” Nell commented dryly, wishing they could have stayed in the sun of their earlier conversation, the lightness of it having been reminiscent of simpler days. But these weren’t simpler days anymore, and apparently the spawn and whatever bullshit this town would toss out next hadn’t wanted her to forget that for more than the half an hour it’d taken for her and Eddie to get here and get into the cemetery. “You know telekinesis is basically just another form of magic,” Nell supplied, remembering saying something similar to Blanche. An ache of longing shot through her as she thought of her best friend, wishing they could be physically closer, but knowing that Whtie Crest had essentially sapped the flush from her friend’s cheeks, and the joy that was meant to color them. “It’s cool you can work with it though since not all mediums can.” She assumed he knew as much. “But magic…it’s built on a few core things...intention, will, focus…” She didn’t know if this was the best place for the conversation the more she looked around. For all they knew there could be another spawn lurking, or a fully fledged higher vampire who was thirsty. “We should talk about this somewhere else, though.”

“Cindy S fucking deserved it,” Nell joked in reply, honestly having half forgotten the way she’d broken the snotty girl’s nose while in highschool until Eddie brought it up. “And she was already halfway to being a bloodsucker with the way she acted.”

Nell’s annoyance grew as he seemed more preoccupied with the camera than herself. “You’re not even pretending to listen,” she accused, the displeasure plain in her voice. “Because you’re either gonna end up dead or have someone else end up dead or get hurt.” She waved her wrist as a reminder, not above using it in a moment like this. “And maybe you don’t mind being a ghost, but it’s not fucking fun for the people who care about you.”

Hearing Nell refer to something he possessed an innate knack for as ‘magic’ brought a grin to Eddie’s face, a grin that grew larger when she called attention to how rare of a gift it was. Telekinesis wore him out more often than not. Even now, he felt the dull throb of an oncoming headache making itself known. But, despite the pain and exhaustion, Nell’s opinion made him feel proud. “Yeah, it can be a little tricky,” he admitted, thinking back to Willow propelling him across her living room. “Right, right, totally. Time and place, I gotcha.” Eddie wouldn’t have minded loitering in the cemetery until daybreak, but Nell was the one recovering from a vampire bite.

“Yeah, well, all busting her face accomplished was convincing her parents to let her get a nose-job.” Eddie pursed his lips at the resurgence of long-ignored memories. Present day left a lot to be desired, but nothing could convince him to relive high school.

Eddie opened his mouth to assure Nell he usually went on these adventures alone, but her next comment caused him to immediately slam his jaw shut. His brows knitted together as he considered her. He wanted to argue, to insist that no one cared about him enough for it to matter. He would’ve used her as an example, calling attention to how long it took her to reach out to him. If people cared so much, they would act like it, and he wouldn’t feel so alone. But, admitting to feeling that way would’ve made him sound pathetic.

“I’m not gonna die, don’t be so dramatic,” he said, turning away to start walking towards his car. “I’ll try to be more careful.” Eddie hoped she wouldn’t call his bluff. “Do you need a ride?” he asked over his shoulder, eager to change the subject.

“A new nose job, and the satisfaction of leaving me and my friend alone,” Nell jokingly corrected. Cindy had been one of the ones to make fun of Blanche and the way she seemingly spoke to herself at times when addressing a ghost. She wasn’t necessarily proud of the temper she’d had in highschool, and referring to it as past tense was most likely generous— but she liked to think she’d improved from the even more violent youth she’d been. Besides, she’d break someone’s nose for Blanche any day.

“You don’t know that,” Nell rebutted instantly, still annoyed at how lightly Eddie seemed to be taking everything. “You know White Crest loves to eat people up and spit them out.” How many people had gone missing or been killed in their highschool class alone? Too fucking many. Perhaps she was leaning a little too hard on her personal feelings when it came to the matter, tired of watching people she cared about die, but if it made Eddie live another day she wasn’t opposed to tough love. “There’s a thousand and one things out there that could kill you, and you’re throwing yourself at all of them. I’m not being dramatic.”

After years of separation, Nell couldn’t tell if his words of being more careful were sincere or something he’d said to placate her, but she figured this was another conversation they shouldn’t have in the middle of the cemetery with beasts potentially lurking in the shadows. “I’m not done with you,” she clarified, not wanting him to think he’d gotten out of this. “But I’ve got my bike that I need to take home. Thanks for the offer, though.”

White Crest’s history didn’t bother Eddie. He coped with his surroundings by romanticizing how capricious the town was rather than fighting against the inevitable. When people questioned him, he often wondered what made them so certain they knew how he should live his life better than he did. Whatever it was had yet to be explained to him in understandable terms. He didn’t want to argue with Nell anymore.

“I said I’ll try to be more careful,” he reiterated.

Eddie stopped when Nell politely turned down his offer and turned to face her. It only felt right to pay proper attention to their goodbye. “Don’t mention it,” he deflected. “It was good seeing you again, Nell. Fingers crossed, next time will be a little cozier.”

#// BLESS FRANKIE for being so goOD #ch:eddie #wickedswriting #chatzy #those magic changes #suicide tw

11 notes · View notes

ma-lark-ey · 3 years

Text

I'm making this post the disclose my current opinions on the Dndads discourse and how frivolous its become.

I would like to preface with one thing;

This post contains content of grooming and manipulation, as this has been the main discussion in this fandom and the issues. I am speaking from my own personal experience, as a former victim of grooming who only recently escaped my abuser. I will not say their name, those who I feel comfortable knowing further information on this already know.

this is my trauma, and I am speaking from my experiences. This is one of the hardest possible topics I could touch on, and I beg anyone who still cares to listen, whether I change your mind or not. Listen.

I've wrestled with my support of this podcast for eleven weeks now. Maybe longer. Since before the discourse became a major thing. I've wrestled with this since episode 34 was released, and I need you understand that.

I need you to understand that I believe the hosts have done what they can to fix these issues. And I genuinely do not see what people still want from them. I will address each topic one at a time, and if I touch on things lesser than others, please understand that this discourse triggers a trauma that I underwent less than a year ago. a trauma I am still processing.

1. Grant, and his over sexualization.

The jokes revolving Grant and his sexual orientation or exploration were sometimes in very poor taste, I am not that blind. I will not defend them or say they weren't as bad as they are. But here'd what people have to think about when we talk about this; Those jokes are already in the episode. They cannot be removed, and the best the hosts can do about that is avoid that humor in the future. Humans are not perfect, and humor is ever growing part of a person, its always a tossup of if a joke will land or not. These did not, and they have not made these jokes since they got called on it.

On the Discord claims about them discussing his porn history, I can say nothing on that. I've seen no sources or proof that that happened. I won't make any opinions or comments on that until I've seen concrete proof that these conversations happened.

2. The Unsafe Discord.

They're Discord is no longer unsafe. Blanket statement, no discussion open. Here's the thing and here's where I'm going into my personal experience; Discords minor precautions arent up to par either. The DnDads hosts have made their 18+ channels, they've made the Discord clear to not be a totally kid friendly place and has tried to separate adults and minors. But they genuinely can only do so much. Minors can easily bypass these guidelines, and that is where we get to the whole grooming argument.

As a grooming victim, this is not the slippery slope people make it out to be. And adult fans,,this is where I'm telling you to sit down and shut up for a minute. Listen, for just a moment. I know I'm "just a kid" but, I've lived the possible outcomes you've thrown out. I lived that experience, and I lived. I survived, and the way you talk about it is so invalidating to me its absolutely disgusting.

I'm prefacing this with this may sound ineloquent, and not as "pleasant" as I usually like to sound. Because with this I expect people to listen. Its not in the public ass Discord server where you should watch out for the child. Its if you see an 18+ individual actively DMing that person, and this minor speaking about this person as if they're a major part of their life.

I need you to understand that I was genuinely wary of one of our own community members when I first began speaking with them, because of this trauma. I wary of ALL of our community members. I didn't share my other socials with people in this community unless I knew their content first. There have been multiple times I've stopped myself from messaging who I will call "My Annus" because of this trauma I've endured.

And I'm sorry, but Waterdeep genuinely has no precautions set in place to separate adults and minors that the DnDads Patreon does not. You cannot act like saints and villainize them, when they adjusted and became you. Then either both of you are saints or both of you are demons.

Children interacting with adults is always a bit set back at first. But I've been groomed. Twice. And you people act like its obvious, like it can happen so easily. And it does, it happens easily. First its them texting you so much you feel overwhelmed, then its them becoming someone you rely on. Someone who makes you pity them.

And its not gonna be people who are SIGNIFCANTLY older. (i.e, I feel much less worry interacting with 30 year olds than I do 18-22 year olds.) Because the adult people that feel 'more understandable' to be friends with cause their just barely adults? they tend to pry harder. They can get away with it. Thats just fact. The people who say "Oh I'm eighteen, but I just turned eighteen" I'm always the wariest of. Not because I'm convinced they're bad people or whatever, but because both times; my abuser was one of those people. This was two different people as well.

And thats what the adults of this fandom won't address. That its not the slope they've made it out to be. Because then they have to retract statements they made, and a lot of people, minors and adults, just don't have the humility to do that.

The only advice I can give to people in the server, who are worried for the minors. These are the only signs I can give you, and this is from my experience or the experience of other survivors I've spoken to, and I'm by no means saying this is concrete.

Abusers tend to be /just/ enough of an adult to be considered on, but not so old that it'll be considered weird for them to befriend a minor. The age gaps I see most often are 14/19 or in that kind of range. They'll go for the lonelier or newer folks, the ones who haven't built their group in the community and are just entering. The ones looking for their place in the hierarchy. If you want to help protect us, you watch like a mother bear when a new minor joins.

A lot of us don't realize its happening until its too late, and by the time we realize the situation we've fallen into its too late for us to get ourselves out. The majority of us have weak wills and a fear of conflict.

3. What the Hosts have done in response.

I honestly, genuinely think the hosts have done a lot of steps in the right direction. And in recent episodes? man, they've tagged their shit better than the McElroys, and no I'm not reaching there.

Honestly, they kind of did before to, on topics they knew were really rough for some people.

When they warned for the Willy Stapler stuff, I was grateful. They warned me I may be triggered by Ron and Willy's dynamic before I was forced with it. The McElroys had a scene with grooming in Grad, and I wasn't warned. I couldn't mentally prepare myself and I had a minor reaction to it. And thats not at all to shit on the McElroys, anyone who knows me know I love that family more than anything. That they saved me. Thats just a statement I need you all to understand.

The Hosts aren't "ignoring us" they're listening to us. They genuinely are. They saw we wanted content warnings, and they gave us some of the best content warnings I've seen. They've content warned episodes I didnt see reason for content warnings.

4. The Transcripts.

Look, this is beating a dead horse at this point. I, personally, have debated beginning to transcribe episode. I know they said they will, and I trust their word. But thats all we can really do, right?

I've transcribed things myself before, guys, and thats hard. and it takes time. and knowing them, they'll want to get all the current episodes up at once, and thats gonna take a hot minute to get down. And we can go into "Well why didnt they transcribe from the beginning?" and well, that's because transcribing just wasn't a thing until recently? Like again, going back to MBMBAM and McElroys, they don't even have all of TAZ transcribed last I checked (I believe their transcriptions go from Grad-Stolen Century, and anything before Stolen Century doesn't have one yet. I may be wrong on that.)

I will not speak on the other grievances and issues people have brought up in the show. The topics I covered are the only ones I feel comfortable speaking on on a public platform, where my words can sway opinions.

There is no TL;DR, because as I said in the beginning; if you can't read this, you aren't listening well enough nor willing to actually discuss the issues you have. You're looking for something to be mad about. Period, end of discussion.

I don't say that to act like I'm some authority on this, or some higher being above all of you for "being forgiving." Because, frankly I don't forgive them. I will continue to support them for making steps in the right direction, and upping their game. But, I won't forgive them for their jokes or the brief lack of precaution in the server. But, I will move on and I will support them. Because, as a victim of the problems people brought up in those situations, the steps the took are the best ones they could have. And I am grateful for that.

If other survivors read this and disagree, you're perfectly valid in that. We all went something, and it effects each of us differently. My heart goes out to you, as well, I know how isolating and genuinely terrifying those experiences and situations can be.

To those who aren't survivors and have read this; I beg you to think about this.

I am open to discussion further on this, but to an extent. There are some opinions I hold in this message that I will flat out tell you to not debate me on, not because of anything other than what I said in this post was hard enough to me to say.

Thank you for your time. EDIT: I implore anyone reading to the read the notes on this post, more information and discussion can be found and all of it is just as important.

#dndads #dndads discourse #discourse #dungeons and daddies

57 notes · View notes

calamitykaty · 4 years

Text

Ohana

Request- what if the cast (Madison Charlie, Owen Jeremy in an apartment together) was stuck in quarantine together with the lock down happen and they try navigate through it all and try not get in each other nerves, big brothers to mads...

WORD COUNT: 1999

WARNINGS: NONE, JUST A BUNCH OF WHOLESOME FLUFF

Owen, Charlie, Madison and Jeremy set themselves in different areas of the apartment as they prepared for yet another Zoom interview, the third one of the week. Charlie opted to take himself outside on the balcony, Madison took the kitchen table while Jeremy and Owen both set up in their respective rooms.

“Hey guys!” The interviewer called out

“Hi!” Madison chirped back followed by a “how you doin’” from Charlie. Jeremy came in with “Hi! It’s nice to meet you!” and Owen fumbled his entrance with “Good Morning...or Afternoon...I don’t know where you are.”

They went through the interview questions with ease, at this point they had heard the same questions over and over and though they tried their best the answers started to be the same too.

“Charlie, I saw that you posted on Instagram that you all four of you are quarantining together, how is that going?” The interviewer asked and Charlie welcomed the question.

“Oh! Gosh! It’s so much fun….well, I mean, most of the time!” Charlie laughed.

“Uh oh!” The interviewer responded.

“No,...no, it’s all good! Owen just has a bad habit of not washing his dishes and leaving clothes all over the apartment!” Charlie revealed.

“Oop! Not you calling people out Charlie” Madison responded with her hand over her mouth.

Jeremy laughed, clapping his hands together and Owen chimed in “Ok, Charlie, Okay...I may be messy but at least I eat like a normal human being!”

“Expose him!” Madi yelled out “Charlie over here eating peanut butter on his eggs…”

They wrapped up the interview and each headed to the living room “peanut butter eggs, really, Mads?” Charlie flicked her in the forehead as he walked by her to sit on the couch.

Madison shrugged her shoulders “...that’s what you get for coming at Owen…”

Charlie pulled out his phone and scrolled through Instagram, reposting some fan art and replying to comments before he got a notification that Owen had tagged him in a post. Charlie clicked on the video and groaned when he saw it was a video of him eating another weird food combo. Owen immediately started laughing when he saw Charlie’s face and the two boys started play fighting in the middle of the living room.

Jeremy watched for approximately two minutes before getting up and going back to his room to facetime his wife.

“You guys are himbos” Madison muttered under her breath.

Charlie stopped mid-way through tackling Owen and turned around to Madison, his face twisted in confusion “Huh?”

Owen laughed, “what does that even mean?”

Charlie turned back towards Owen “Dude, I swear she speaks a whole ‘nother language than us.”

Madison rolled her eyes and stood up “I’m going to my room to go live with my fantoms, you guys are idiots.”

Charlie pushed out of Owen’s grasp and plopped back down on the couch. He grabbed the remote control and mindlessly flipped through the channels before landing on some old school cartoons.He sighed a happy sigh and laid his head down on the pillow propped up by the arm of the couch. Jeremy joined Charlie in the living with a smile plastered to his face. Charlie looked up at him from his spot on the couch, wiggling his eyebrows, which, in turn caused Jeremy to pull the pillow out from underneath his head and hit him in the face with it.

“Get your head out of the gutter, Charlie” Jeremy huffed and sat down in the oversized chair adjacent to the couch “you are exhausting to live with” he muttered, his right pointer finger scrolling through his Instagram page lazily.

“Yeah, Charlie, you’re like the worst to live with.” Owen snickered.Charlie flicked him in the back of the head.

Jeremy looked up from his phone “I don’t know why you’re laughing,Owen...i’m pretty sure you’re growing a science experiment in your dirty dishes.”

“Ugh..fine, MOM! I will go wash my dishes, happy?” Owen rolled his eyes and made his way to the kitchen with slumped shoulders.

The two brown haired boys sat in silence, both scrolling through Instagram and going through the endless amount of art, edits and covers that the fans had tagged them in. Charlie added some of his favorites to his story and commented on others as he saw fit. Every few minutes he would laugh under his breath and turn his phone to Jeremy who would laugh as well with an occasional “send me that one…” muttered into the otherwise silent air.

“I thought Mads was on live?” Charlie cocked his head back to look at Jeremy for an answer after noticing her profile wasn’t live at the top of his screen.

“She was for a little bit” Jeremy confirmed “she ended it like, I don’t know...an hour ago?” Jeremy shrugged.

Charlie swung his legs to the side and sat up before pulling himself off of the couch and making his way to the teenage girls bedroom. Her door was cracked the tiniest bit but Charlie still lifted his knuckles and lightly tapped the door. He pushed the door open when he didn’t get a response from the girl and peered into her room. The walls had a purple glow reflecting off of them from the lights that ran across the molding. Madison was curled up in the middle of the bed but from her shaking body he knew she wasn’t napping. Charlie walked further into her room and sat on the foot of her bed and leaned forward, gently placing his hand on the girl's shoulder.

“Mads?” Charlie said gently, concern laced in his voice.

Madison squeezed her stuff ghost to her chest and shook her head at Charlie.

“Hey...hey, what’s wrong?” Charlie grabbed her left hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Madison sucked in a shaky breath, wiped her tears from her face with the back of her right hand and sat up. She pulled her knees to her chest and laid her head on the tops of them, staring at the wall.

“I w-wanna g-g-go home” the curly haired girl got out between small sobs, the tears falling steadily from her eyes again.

Charlie’s face softened at the words. He remembered what it was like when he first left home for the great unknown, it was hard, and even if he was surrounded by great people, he still felt lonely sometimes too. Charlie pulled the girl forward by the wrists until her head was hooked over his shoulder and his arms wrapped around her. His right hand ran up and down her back trying to calm her down. They sat like that in silence, her tears slowly soaking through the fabric of his shirt on his shoulder.

“You know you can always talk to us, right, Mads? Like, we aren’t ever going to judge you, you know that, yeah?” Charlie spoke softly. Madison pulled away from Charlie and wiped the last remaining tears from her cheeks as she nodded her head.

“I’ll be out in a little bit...I just need a minute” Madison gave Charlie the tiniest hint of a smile, letting him know that she was going to be ok.

“Ok” Charlie agreed and left the girl to herself, closing the door behind him. He made his way back to the living room where Owen and Jeremy were in the middle of a game of Death By Daylight.

“Hey, Himbo’s” Charlie greeted.

“You don’t even know what that means, idiot.” Owen muttered.

Charlie shrugged and grabbed the tv remote before turning the TV off without notice and eliciting angry “Hey’s” from the other two boys. He leaned back in the chair and glanced down the hallway to make sure Madison’s door was still closed.

He leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. “We need to do something like...really, really spectacular for Madi. She is really homesick and upset.” His eyes switched between the two boys as they threw ideas back and forth before Jeremy came through with the game-winning plan.

“None of us can really cook so why don’t we order some Empanadas and Elote from that small hole-in-the-wall place that Madi likes and then we set up a zoom with her family and some of her friends for a movie night. We can get DoorDash to deliver some popcorn and snacks to us too so it’ll be like, a whole thing.”

“Dude, Jer, you’re a genius!” Owen exclaimed and Charlie nodded his head in agreement. The three boys quickly got to work to arrange everything. Charlie ordered the food to be delivered before he quickly cleaned the dining table off so they could sit together and have a meal family style. Owen DoorDashed the movie snacks and popcorn and Jeremy DM’d several of Madi’s friends before calling her Mr. Reyes and letting him know what was going on.

Charlie set plates out on to the table along with glasses of water and within a half hour the food and snacks had been delivered. He placed the containers of food in the middle of the table while Jeremy set up his laptop in the living room so they could join the Zoom call when they finished eating.

“Do I smell empanadas?” Madison's voice called as the girl made her way up the hallway and towards the kitchen area. The girl stopped in the doorway with her mouth agape,her eyes scanned the dining table and the three boys that stood by it.

“What’s all this?” She gestured with her right hand.

Jeremy pulled out a chair and motioned for Madison to sit in it before he pushed it in towards the table.

“We heard you were feeling a little down.” Owen shrugged as if the effort they put in over the last hour was no big deal and reached for an empanada before passing the container to Madison. Madison eagerly grabbed one and bit into it “oh myyyy gooodddd” she moaned out mid chew.

“Elote?” Charlie held out the other food container to Madison. Madison eagerly grabbed one and placed on her plate “you guys are a couple of simps!”

“What’s a--” Jeremy raised an eyebrow in question but was cut off by Charlie.

“Don’t ask, I think she just makes them up as she goes.” Charlie shrugged “but I’m almost positive it’s a good thing.”

The dining room was filled with laughter as they told jokes and played rounds of what are the odds? Madison sat back in her chair, her eyes bright and a smile so large on her face that her cheeks had begun to hurt. Jeremy got up and took all of the plates to the sink while Charlie placed the leftover food into the fridge and Owen made a quick run to the living room to enter the Zoom call and popped ‘Hocus Pocus’ into the blu-ray player. Madison whined when Charlie grabbed her by the shoulders and guided her to the living room when she tried to go back to her room to call her Dad.

“Hocus Pocus? Guys, I love this movie!” Madison squealed, her eyes opening wide when she heard a whole room of laughter.

“Guys…?”

Owen turned the laptop around and Madison immediately burst into tears at seeing the faces of her family and friends on the screen all together. She popped up from the couch and pulled each of the guys into a tight hug.

Jeremy looked down at the girl and smiled “we’re always here for ya, kid.”

“Yeah, Mads, you’re like a little sister to us, We love you.” Owen agreed while pouring some rainbow nerds into his mouth.

“Alright, enough of the mush, let’s get this movie night started” Charlie hopped over the back of the couch and got himself situated before pressing play. Madison rolled her eyes at the boy and settled into her spot on the couch with a bag of reeses pieces and her heart full.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknightstatesmantrash

#so much fluff that my heart exploded #jatp #julie molina #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #charlie gillespie #madison reyes #owen joyner #Jeremy Shada #reggie jatp #owen jatp #luke patterson

64 notes · View notes

austarus · 4 years

Text

HR Wells x Reader Scars Across Time

**A/N: The picture/edit/gif does not belong to me. It belongs to @acewest360

Word Count: 6245

*Hey everyone! Please remember to hit that reblog button as well as liking and following! Sharing the content makes the world spin~ This is probably going to be the last fic I post until winter break. Things have not been going too well for me, I rarely have time to sit down for myself and write or play pokemon at all. But I promise I’ll be back with more fics and series parts with the winter season

“I can’t feel my fingers.”

“And this is why we keep our gloves on,” you emphasized, taking your gloves off and handing it to him to wear as the two of you walked to your apartment, “especially during a snowball fight.”

“But you’ve got to admit, I nailed BA pretty hard.”

“You did,” you giggled and pecked his rosy-cold cheek. “And I’m proud that you did. Knock some sense into him and Harry while you’re at it.” You mumbled the latter part to yourself. The other Wells doppelganger was still having trouble with his daughter, who’s back on Earth-2. She had ‘kicked him off his own Earth’.

“It’s too bad Jesse wasn’t here; I think she would have liked it.”

“She’s still upset with Harry, HR.”

HR did a half shrug, side-glancing at you as he took your hand in his, “She missed all the failed igloos and speedy snow angels, the laughs and arguments we all ended up having on who cheated or not.”

“She’s busy on her Earth being the Flash, though. That must be taking priority over everything else.”

“I know,” he sighed, taking your hand into his. You felt how frigid they were through the knitted gloves you had given him. His eyes met yours are the two of you walked, the chilly air piercing the layers you have on. The novelist hoped that his doppelgangers daughter has been taking care of herself as she takes care of her city. “Harry shouldn’t have avoided her and the issue between them though, that’ll only create a greater rift between them. I know he’s not good with emotions, but… Something doesn’t feel right, like… it just doesn’t add up.”

You only offered the novelist a half-shrug, not really knowing what to say. “I think they’ll end up talking it out, whatever it is that happened between them. They’ll eventually get through it together.” You unlocked the door to your apartment and pushed it open. The door creaked nastily from its hinges; you’ve been meaning to fix that. “Now, let’s first get you inside and thawed out, I’m pretty sure I have some cold sludge stuck down the back of my shirt.”

The two of you entered your cozy apartment, kicking off any spare snow remnant that had clung onto your boots and clothes. Both you and HR left your boots by the door. A shiver ran down your spine, the ice-water mix shifted in your shirt as you moved uncomfortably through your home. You attempted to not track any water on the hardwood floors, eagerly locating some dry towels while HR brought a laundry basket from one of the rooms. The taller man returned with one as you handed him a fluffy towel. You and HR stripped off the winter-y layers of clothes, placing them into the basket. Your long-sleeve shirt clung to your skin, the cool damp cloth making you a bit antsy to get out of it. The Earth-19 being took the basket to throw in the washer, adding in the appropriate amount of detergent and softener. He whistled throughout completing his task, towel around his neck. HR started drying his hair off as he walked back to the living room.

You turned on the weather channel, overhearing Iris mention something about a serious storm going to hit. Flipping through the channels, you finally landed on the Central City News station and just in time for the weather spokesperson to come on screen. The woman fully articulated the severity the storm could cause as well as how many inches of snow to expect with an estimated time. HR’s ears had perked up, eyeing you from behind the couch as you watched the news. You ran a hand through your damp-ish hair before deciding to set it in a towel turban. Well, it’s a good thing I went grocery shopping yesterday. I should still have the portable heater that Cisco made just in case. The candles and matches should be in a spare drawer somewhere.

You glanced over your shoulder to see HR with chaotically messy hair and the collar of his shirt soaked. You nibbled on your bottom lip while setting down the TV remote. “Hey, um… HR do you want to stay over the night? There’s a winter storm coming and stuff,” You sheepishly wrung your fingers for wanting to ask him to stay the night when you knew he probably had an upcoming deadline to meet. Am I being selfish? I’m mean… we’ve been together for almost a little bit over a year now. Gah, fuck, I’m overthinking again. Stupid past relationship trauma and emotional distress. You just didn’t want to inconvenience him.

You will never deny how safe you felt around him, how you didn’t need to be careful of how to act. You can be you. And HR can be the dorkily cute novelist that he is with no filter in regard to his ideas and thoughts and expressions. The two of you complimented each other, two wounded souls just fixing and adoring each other. It took a couple of weeks for you to open up about your past relationships to the novelist, which he listened with understanding and concern taking hold in his eyes. He had done the same thing you had done. HR had proposed to ask three questions and you would need to answer fully and honestly with the reward in return. A reward of something you had long forgotten because having HR understand your past like you had done with him caused your heart to swell to a grand scale.

HR’s gaze softened at you, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “I don’t mind staying the night.” It’s so much better than sharing space with one grumpy scientist back at the labs who’ll probably hurl objects at me if I do anything out of line in his eyes. He saw that bit of insecurity eating at you, and he would do all he can to brush it away. Your insecurities had lessened over time, but every now and then it pops back up. But it’s understandable, you were trying your best to be a good and considerate girlfriend.

HR’s heart melted when you perked up, a bright smile crossing your face as if your sullen thoughts had washed away in an instant. “That means we can even make s’mores tonight!”

“How-“

“-I bought this handy dandy electric s’mores maker-”

“-Birdy, we’ve talked about this. You can’t buy every single thing from Amazon.”

“But… but the s’mores.”

“Do I need to take your debit card from you?” HR joked at the pout you had given him, the both of you knowing he would actually do no such thing. But he worried of these little impulse buys you get yourself into. Especially when prompted by Cisco, Iris, and Caitlin.

“I will fucking fight you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“You’re right, I love you too much.”

“Was it really necessary though?”

“… Yes, the state of my survival depends on it.”

“Liar,” HR sighed to himself. “I’m guessing Cisco and Iris happened to be browsing through Amazon again when they got bored? And you happened to be with them? Browsing from page to page, especially the bargains section.”

“… Maybe~”

“…”

“Don’t worry, I made sure I paid my rent and taken care of the apartment before deciding to buy the s’mores maker.”

“Good.”

“Plus, I really bought it for you.” HR felt the tips of his ears warm a bit. “You said it was one of the things you used to make with your mom, but now you just don’t have the time to camp or be by a fire to make them. So… I got this for when you’d come over and stuff…”

“How did I ever get so lucky to have someone as precious as you in my life, my little birdy?”

Your giggle allowed his heart to jump through hoops. Hail started pounding on the windows of your apartment catching both your attentions. “We should probably go wash up. I think I still have some clothes you left when you slept over a few times.” An idea lit up brilliantly in your mind, your brain already gathering the necessary materials.

A smile graced HR’s face, feeling his heart flutter as you shuffled to gather his clothes. I would do anything for you. The taller man looked out the window, observing the outside world ravaging in the heaviness of white fluff. The power might go out soon. If we’re lucky, then it doesn’t. But mother nature doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. “Which drawer are they in?” He questioned, padding off to your bedroom but throwing a glance at you.

“I think they might be in the top left drawer,” you lied to him, needing to buy some time. “I’m not really sure. But if not, you’ll have to look around for them in my closet or something.”

You hurried to the bathroom once he was out of sight, stepping closer to the closet. Twisting the handle, you were greeted with towels on one shelf and scented candles on another. Now, what to choose. You opted for the scents of Balsam-Cedar and Autumn Leaves from Yankee Candle. Scattering the small candle containers around the tub, you made sure they were positioned in a place to avoid any fires. This is going to look simply divine. You mused a cheery hum from your lips as you worked fast. The electric lighter was in a drawer along with the bath bombs for relaxation. You contemplated whether the tiny flower petals were a bit overkill, then figured that it would be. I’m extra as fuck anyway, so why the hell not. You pulled out the mason jar filled with pastel pink-blue hydrangea and hibiscus petals. With everything set up, you just had to fill up the tub with water and work your magic. Shutting off the bathroom lights, you shuffled over to your room right as HR let out an ‘aha!’ when he found his checkered cotton pajama bottoms.

“Come take a bath with me,” you started, taking his hand and squeezing it meaningfully with jubilant warmth within your eyes. “We can warm up faster in less time before the storm cuts out the power.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to…” He trailed off; his other arm held his clothes to his chest. You knew what he meant and nodded assumingly. An ex many years ago had tried to drown you once, but… Your ex isn’t HR. The man in front of you is considerate, kind, dorky, and quirky. The man in front of you is more wholesome and beautiful inside and out than any other man you had been with. You knew the novelist would never dream of hurting you. We’ve proven that much to each other in the past year, we wouldn’t hurt each other no matter what.

“I trust you, HR.” You leaned up and kissed his nose gingerly, “You know I feel safer around you.”

“And I, you,” the taller man allowed you to tug him to the bathroom once you had pulled out your own pajamas and undergarments.

“Before we go inside, I’m going to need to you wait out here for a few moments.”

“Interesting. What are you planning, little birdy?”

“Who? Lil ol’ me? Nothing really!” You responded with a cheeky grin before entering the bathroom. HR just kept that boyish smirk on his face then sneezed. God, he loves you, but he needed to get out of these clothes soon. Another sneeze left him when the sound of water graced the silence in the apartment. The hail had stopped, but heavier clumps of packing snow fell onto the city.

“Done~” you mused with childish delight, opening the bathroom door and ushering him inside. HR held his breath as the scents of the forest greeted him. The candles were beautifully lit around the tub, flickering and wavering as it cradled the bathroom with a dim glow. The bathroom lights were off to allow the candles to work their magic in the darkness. Neither of you would deny the warmth the candles brought as the flames danced happily in their respective glass communities. Scents of cedar oak, maple trees, and autumn leaves flourished in the air, but it wasn’t overbearing. The running water moved gently as you had begun to strip down and out of your clothes. Your movements shook HR out of his trance, tugging his own clothes off, but stopped short of shrugging his pants off when he saw all of you. Your eyes caught his intense gaze. A tight knot formed in the pit of your stomach.

“HR?”

“You’re…” He couldn’t find the right words. Any word couldn’t justify the beauty in front of him. “You’re elegantly divine.” Is what he settled for as he felt hot oil splash onto his cheeks.

“It’s not something you haven’t seen before.”

“It’s something that I hope I don’t have the misfortune to never see.”

You screamed on the inside as your mind started spinning at his desire. A smug grin grew on his face as you looked away, stumbling over to a jar on the sink counter. HR fully stripped, coming up behind you with his arms encasing you and strong hands resting on your hips as he watched. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You leaned back into him, dropping a good two handfuls of flower petals into the water. His body, while chilled from your earlier winter-y activities still provided your own with a spectacle of warmth. Goosebumps gradually ran over every in of your skin. The taller man watched you with tired eyes.

“You know you’re going to have to let me go so we can wash up, right?”

HR pouted, to which you leaned up on your tippy toes to try to kiss his pout away. “Fine, but I think we both deserve some time to cuddle.”

“I was going to trap you in bed, regardless.”

A quiet laugh left his lips. Breaking away from his sturdy limbs and wonderfully sculpted body, you rifled through a drawer for a bath bomb. Milk and Honey~ Unwrapping it and disposing of its bindings into the trash, you set it down into the water as it instantly fizzed.

“Wait, you like bath bombs?” HR questioned with an arched eyebrow.

“Yeah, but only the organically made ones- that way it doesn’t irritate my skin.” You shut off the hot water and pulled out the necessary towels for the both of you. “Also, they smell phenomenal!”

“They do.”

“What’s wrong?”

“One year on this Earth and I hadn’t even noticed that you had bath bombs too. Do yours also release an underwater firecracker?”

“An underwater firecracker??”

“Yeah, little ocean sparks underwater that also stimulate the water to move like the waves as if pulled from the effects of the moon.”

You just stared down at the slowly fizzing bath bomb in disappoint. “Why don’t you do that? Rude.” The novelist craned his head down to kiss your cheek with a snicker at your evident disappointment.

You stuck one foot in, the warmth enticing you as a hum left your lips before going all in. A wave of relief washed over your muscles as a tired groan left your lips while shutting your eyes. Leaning back, your skin touched the cool marble of the tub as the water drifted in multiple directions. The water rose to just above the top of your cleavage. HR had followed suit once you fully entered, sitting across from you with his legs crossed. A sigh had left him as he felt the tension in his body break away, the scents also helping him ease into relaxation. After a moment he pulled you in between his legs and you humored him because his were so long that they needed the space. Your eyes finally adjusted to the brightness set by the candles from your position.

You eyed the scar on his chest, teeth raking over your bottom lip. The one where Savitar had left his mark. Those thoughts came back. Your throat dried instantly. Swallowing thickly, your mouth moved on its own accord. “I almost lost you.” HR froze as he leaned his broad back against the tub, an arm on the rim of the cool marble. You reached out a hand to trace over the scarred skin. The closer you had gotten- the more you looked at his upper body- was the more you mentally berated yourself under the soft glow of the candlelight. Scared paths and crossroads of tinged undertones on his skin, some faint- others dark and deep. A few were clean and a few others were messy. Even the scar, perfectly hidden by his left eyebrow seemed to be clearer to your eyes now. Your heart sank in your chest, frustration and anger and hurt welling up inside you at the pain HR must have endured over the years. But mostly, anger and hatred towards yourself. How have I been so blind? How many times have my eyes overlooked these? How pathetic and ignorant have I become? HR shivered under your touch, under your gaze over the ugly reminders on his body. “We’ve been together for a year,” you started, “a little bit over a year- and I’m a damned fool for never truly seeing how hurt you’ve been.”

“I…” The words died in HR’s mouth. The sullen look in your glassy eyes, the pained expression on your face. His heart felt heavy, yet it oddly thrummed loudly in his chest. The warmth of the water didn’t help how you were feeling.

“And for that, I’m sorry.”

“Just being by my side and seeing who I am- how I’m worth something, exceeds any grim reminder of my past.”

“But, I didn’t-”

HR took your hand and intertwined your fingers together, “You’re the light of my life, you allowed me to forget my past and accepted me, all of me. I don’t hold it against you that you didn’t notice, we’ve been going through one hoop after another with these crazed villains. Hell, I forget the scars are even there when you’re with me… I feel whole when you’re with me.” The novelist strained emphasis on the last sentence. You felt the tears start to riot in your eyes before streaming down your face. HR gently cupped your face, wiping the tears away with a dry hand. “I’m happy that you overlooked them. I’m happy that I could shed them when I’m around you.”

You were silent for a few seconds. “I’m still mad at Iris,” you whispered with a sharp sniffle, your fingers finding the scar over his heart once more. “No, I’m pissed that she didn’t the willpower and guts to speak up when she had a chance. We… we could have prevented… both of you could have-”

“-We could have gone through a million different avenues, but the results would have led to the same road.”

“Wouldn’t it? You, at least, couldn’t have been hurt if we had done something differently.”

“Iris could have been hurt.”

“You were hurt!” You snapped as your voice wavered. “You were going to die, had it not been for Julian and Cisco and Barry. I… I can’t lose you. Every night, a dark thought slips into my mind. You could have died- You could have died right there when you were just starting to live a life of your own. All because of Barry and Iris.” Your cheeks felt wet and only then did you realize that the tears had pooled up and escaped. His gaze softened at you, nonetheless, the tears didn’t take away from any frustration that you had presented.

HR recognized the bitterness in your voice. The fiery anger within your eyes as you looked up at him with desperation. The same anger that he had long disciplined himself to distance from. Anger blinds all gates of logic within the mind. Because in a way, you were right. Iris could have easily said something when she was disguised as his persona. Instead the queen of the castle seemed reluctant in sacrificing herself, instead allowing the pawn to take the fall. HR had thrown it all away to save someone who didn’t really care to know him and treated him with disdain at first. All to prove to the others that he was worth being on their side. To prove to Savitar that he wasn’t a coward like the projected future had revealed. But most importantly, to prove to himself that he’s capable of more than just standing on the sidelines as backup. The anger and distraught and hate. HR worked tirelessly to move past them. You were his future now. You and the fact that in the end he seemed to earn his spot. Sadly, even at the expense of his own life. At the end of the day those were the cold, hard facts. Ones he willingly chooses to not give in to.

“But I’m here.” HR wrapped his long arms around you, pulling you closer to him. You choked back on a sob. Your anger waned at his gentle touch. “I’m here and I’m alive,” he let out roughly, letting you cry it all out as he rubbed your back soothingly. HR knew everything you had said had been true. And even if it did work out in the end, he didn’t want to imagine a reversal of the situation. If it had been you who had traded places with Iris instead of him. The novelist can only hope that the team wouldn’t have to put anyone else in a situation like that. That Barry and Iris wouldn’t have to play close to this dangerous game of chess again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you sniffled, calming down with a stutter. You knew that anger blinds judgment. You didn’t hate Iris, but you resented her inability to save both her live and HR’s. HR wet his hands and cleared your face from any remnant of tears. kissing your eyelids sweetly.

“Interesting that you put hydrangeas and hibiscus petals.”

“How so? And how did you know?” you raised a questioning eyebrow at HR.

“The jar’s labeled.” You facepalmed at yourself. Of course, the jar’s fucking labeled, I’m such a dumbass. “But also, I studied the language of the flowers as well as the language of the colors for my writing.”

“So, what do hibiscus plants stand for?”

“From what I recall,” HR scratched the back of his neck in recollection, “they stand for love and affection between family members, friends, and others. A perfect statement of gentle feelings towards the others. It can even symbolize passionate relationships.” You had placed both hands on his shoulders as he spoke, mesmerized by his knowledge of the flower. He wiggled his eyebrows at his later statement, causing you to giggle with flushed cheeks.

“What about the hydrangeas?”

“Ironically, heartfelt emotions,” he kissed your cheek, rubbing the skin of your lower back as he continued. “Gratitude for being understood.”

“I would call it more of a fateful coincidence,” you mumbled, pressing your lips to his for a chaste kiss. But truthfully, he just wanted to roll around in bed with you and kiss you silly to his heart’s content… amongst other certainly heart-fluttering bedroom activities. When you pulled away, your eyes drifted over his figure. “Can- Can I ask you about them?”

Them. HR knew what you were referring too. That curiosity of yours is one day going to land you in trouble, birdy. HR mused to himself with a little noise of thought. He was well past the mental pain, taking up meditation and various things to acknowledge and push past it. But the idea of you feeling the need to know didn’t rub him the wrong way like it should have. Rather, it stirred something deep in his heart, a playful glint hidden in his eyes. “Depends on what’s in it for me, little birdy?”

You thought deeply for a minute and HR remained silent, running patterns over the skin of your arm. You felt warmth build up on your skin with every contact. “One night.”

“One night…?”

“One night, you can do anything to me- within reasonable bounds. You decide when the night can be.”

The Wells doppelganger immediately licked his lips and felt his blood rush at the notion. “Is that your final condition?” Because if it is, this big bad wolf’s going to make sure to devour his little red riding hood all night long. HR tilted your head back, a hooked finger under your chin as his lips skimmed over yours. There’s much planning that needs to be done.

“Y-yeah.”

“‘Yeah’ isn’t a word of confirmation.” Learned that one from a law buddy back on Earth-19.

“Yes,” you won’t deny the anticipation in your voice. The murky white waters retaliated with every movement from the two of you. “One question, one scar.”

“One question, one scar, one night.” The novelist smirked down at you, a cocky look on his face.

“Fair enough.” I essentially ordered one love romp of a night… I’m so fucked, literally and figuratively. I just hope I don’t have to come into the Labs the next day, neither of us.

HR watched you closely, grabbing the body wash as you decided with a focused look on what scar to choose. Your eyes roamed his body. You already knew of his mental scars, and he knew of yours. The novelist waited patiently as you quietly processed the image of them on his skin. Some scars on his body were from hitmen, bullies, or muggers- mainly during his young adult life or when he was creating STAR Labs with Randolph. That bastard probably sent some after me, wouldn’t be surprised since he knew I would be executed if I crossed dimensions. Bath sponge in hand, he lathered your body wash on the sponge with every intention that he would help wash you while he reiterated a scarred tale.

“What’s the story behind the one on your eyebrow?”

That one took HR by surprise; usually human nature would be intrigued with the most noticeable of things- big things. Instead, you pinpointed the one that was easily concealable in plain sight. Settling for the smaller scar in comparison to the others. The novelist took your arm, scrubbing your skin with lips pressed thinly. You opened your lips to ask if he’d rather you choose a different one, but HR cut you off in a matter of milliseconds.

“I got it back during my university years. I was an English Arts major,” he paused for a moment, switching to your other arm to give it the same treatment. “My father obviously didn’t approve, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to keep going with my literary studies, taking up photography in my spare time. One day, I was just walking through the city in the late evening. Dismal and dark, with fog everywhere.” HR rinsed off your arms, gesturing for you to turn around between his legs so he can start on your back. He plucked off the PanOxyl Foaming Wash bottle from beside a candle, using a different sponge specifically for the backwash. You had told him that sometimes you unfortunately get acne on your back and shoulders, so you use this backwash to keep it clean and acne-free. To your surprise he wasn’t revolted in any way, instead he admired your constant diligence with wanting to keep good hygiene, especially since so many factors can trigger different responses from the human body. You silently waited, listening intently as he continued. “I heard whimpers. Cries coming from down the alley. There was this… this small puppy- I-I can’t really recall what breed it was, but it looked hunger and tired and scared.” You looked back at him, heart aching as you saw his eyes show the pain in his heart too. “I thought to myself. How could someone leave a helpless baby animal to starve in the city’s alleyways? Why couldn’t someone have the heart to nurture it?”

“What did you do?”

HR ran the water over your back to remove any bubbles or foaming wash from your skin. “I saw myself in the puppy. Lost. Abandoned. Alone.” he whispered as he raised his chin, eyes finally meeting yours as you fully turned to observe him. Your gaze softened; your wet hand reached out to cup his jaw. Droplets of water fell from your skin into the colored water as he nuzzled into your touch. “I approached it, I wanted to keep it safe and warm. It didn’t object when I picked it up, cradling it like it the baby that it is. It trembled and shivered in my arms.” His heart dipped remembering the way the puppy felt in his arms. One of his larger hands held onto yours, the one cupping his chiseled jaw. “I had to do something, couldn’t just leave it there.” I couldn’t abandon it.

“There’s a ‘but’, isn’t there?”

“There always is…” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Things went south when a couple of drunk guys found me and the puppy. Turns out these were the same guys that had been harassing the little one through the alleys. They had been trying to use the puppy in illegal cage fights.” HR bowed his head slightly. “One thing led to the other, there was a knife and I was running like hell with the puppy. Until they cornered me, hence…” He trailed off, gesturing to his eyebrow scar with a free hand.

“HR,” you whispered, but he squeezed your hand as he took it off his face. Your other hand tightened into a fist in the water. HR’s eyes caught the movement but didn’t say anything.

“They roughed me up pretty good- I’m wasn’t- I’m not a fighter, but I would have been damned if that little puppy had been hurt. I ended up finding the little guy a home where he can be looked after and well-fed and safe.” You unclenched your fist, gently listing it to stroke his stubbly cheek as he concluded. HR ran his fingers down the length of your arm.

“You’re safe.”

“I know. You’re safe too, my little birdy.”

“I know.”

You twisted your body, stretching an arm out as you reached for his Old Spice body wash. It was your turn to help wash him. You started working away at his sturdy chest, obviously doing your best to not ogle at his abs and his entirely toned framework. But he caught your eyes drifting off more than once.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For always listening to me.”

“I love you, HR. And I would do anything in the multiverse to keep you safe and loved. You’re my one one one after all.” You winked at him, eliciting a deep chuckle from his lips. Music to your eyes, smiling as the corners of his lips lifted upwards. “There’s that radiant smile I love so much.” The man blushed but continued to grin.

HR ran a hand through his hair before catching a glimpse of his hair in the mirror. He squinted a bit as he held a lock between two fingers. “Looks to be about that time of year again.” Your fingers threaded through his hair once he released the strand.

“I’m assuming a haircut is needed.”

“Yup”

“I will never understand how men ask for their hair to be done.”

“It’s honestly really easy, with the provided visuals of course. I should take you with me once.”

“I’d be okay with that.”

“Probably going to need to dye my hair black again.”

“I think I have some leftover dye in a cabinet somewhere. You know… I wouldn’t mind seeing silver streaks on you. Makes you look like a sly silver fox to me.”

“… I’ll keep that in mind for next time as long as you allow me to learn how to do those intricate braids in your hair.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Wells.” You leaned up to kiss his lips.” The novelist smirked against your lips as he ran a hand over your bum. Neither of you had noticed that the water was starting to become lukewarm, the candles and warmth of each other distracted the two of you. “It’s a done deal.”

Taking his Old Spice Shampoo in hand, you squeezed a good amount out meanwhile he tilted his head down closer for you to reach. HR’s hands settled on your hips, steadying you on his lap to have your legs wrap around his waist. You scrubbed and massaged his scalp, creating a bubbly hairdo for him. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips. But once your bright eyes met his baby blue ones, you felt your heart skip in your chest.

HR felt your hands slow as you retracted them but made no effort in submerging them in the water to get rid of the bubbles. Instead your smaller hands rested on his broad shoulders with the tips of your fingers doing a sort of feather-light dance against his skin. The novelist found himself mesmerized by your radiance, never mind the candlelight that continued to flicker around the both of you. You felt hypnotized by his baby blue eyes, pulling you into an ocean of wonder. HR licked his lips with half-lidded eyes as you moved to kiss him deeply, your lips slowly moved against his with a sensual kind of dance to it. The doppelganger breathed you in slowly and he pressed forward. His palm rested on your cheek while his other hand took one of yours to hold onto. The kiss broke but was soon reconnected. Over and over again. The moment wasn’t rushed. There was no hurry to get to the finish line. It was just you and him and the wisps of fire around the two of you. HR nibbled on your lower lip before you reluctantly pulled away. Your tongue ran over your swollen bottom lip.

“We should probably finish up before the power decides to run out,” you started in a low-ish voice. HR noted the slight jitter in it and his heart swelled at the effect of his kisses on you.

“I don’t think it might get to that point. We’d probably end up snowed in, but there’s a chance that the power might not go out.”

“It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“I know. If we must, then by all means,” The novelist murmured, nuzzling his nose with yours before the two of you finished washing up.

HR stepped out first from the foamy waters of the tub, stretching a fine limb over for some dry towels. He handed one to you when you had stepped out after him unfortunately a little less graceful as you almost slipped on the tiled floor. HR’s hand reached out to steady you. Giving him a sheepish smile, you whispered a thank you to which he returned with a wink. He knew you could be clumsy at times, but nevertheless he’s grown to love that about you. HR had come to realize that him being able to catch you from tripping over your feet or stopping you from running into things would give him a sense of ‘being your hero’ or ‘saving you’. It was just a small thing that made him happy. A ‘your hero in-the-moment’ kind of thing.

You wrapped the towel around you to rid your body of the water and bubbles. The two of you had cleaned each other well which made you sigh in contentment because feeling clean and being clean made you feel satisfied and relieved after a long day. You couldn’t help the stare you had fallen into as your eyes roamed over your boyfriends’ body as he dried himself off. Subconsciously, you licked your lips at every dip of skin, every inch of muscle. Wrapping another towel around your hair, your eyes never left HR until he turned towards you. You blinked for a split second and hastily busied yourself with pulling your undergarments from your clothes pile. HR walked back past you with his pajama’s on. The novelist had every intention in extinguishing the candles that were left only to land a soft smack on your ass. You let out a little yelp in surprise at the impact.

“See something you like?” He teased as he blew the fire out. He knew. There was a large mirror in the bathroom after all. A smirk finally settled on his face, one that he had been repressing until he smacked your ass. The heat had stayed on your cheeks from the bath and getting caught.

“Maaaaaaaaybeeeeeeee.” To be honest, it was a nice ass.

HR chuckled, “Well, since you’re done why don’t you get that cute ass of yours in bed while I go and get the smores maker?”

“How can I ever refuse such a generous offer?” You hummed, leaning up to kiss him. The Wells doppelganger nipped at your lips in return then broke away from you. He stepped towards the door. “HR?”

“Hm?” He turned back to you with curious eyes. There was a soft glow that had settled within your eyes. The sight made his body tingle.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#harrison wells x reader #harrison wells imagine #harrison wells #harrison wells fanfiction #hr wells x reader #hr x reader #hr wells #hr wells imagine #the flash #the flash imagine #the flash x reader #the flash cw #DC comics #dc #DCTV #dctv fanfic #team flash #team flash x reader #team flash imagine

108 notes · View notes

wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

Replacement (1/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Warnings: Language, violence Word Count: 2.2k Requested: @beebosclique A/N: Thanks for the request because I’ve been on a real Tim Drake kick lately. Which is probably why this story is so long (not sorry). Also (not) sorry for reusing superhero names in my stories…I’ve only come up with like 2 that I like. Also also, thanks for the love 💛💛

Part Two

You had no real memories of your life at the circus, you were only three years old when Bruce Wayne took you in. He and Dick were the only family you knew, well until Jason came into the picture. Jason, unlike Dick, realized that you could take care of yourself. In fact, Jason often sparred with you and secretly taught you as Bruce and Dick taught him. When he died you begged to take over the Robin mantle. You knew there needed to be one, Bruce would go too far, you were even worried Dick would go to far. Tim becoming Robin was the final punch in the gut you needed. They would never allow you to be in the family business, no matter how prepared for it you were. The day Tim passed the gauntlet was the same day you finished your costume. That day Eclipse was born and she quickly made a name for herself, all while avoiding Tim Drake, both at home and in the field.

Jason returned and the Robin mantle got passed once again. You didn’t even ask for it this time. Your silence is what led Jason to discovering your secret identity. You had to admit, it was nice to finally have someone to talk to about it, someone to patch you up if you ever got too injured.

“Y/N/N, I don’t get why you won’t just tell them.”

“Because Dick would murder me. He wouldn’t let me be Robin, you think he would be okay with me going out there solo?”

“Yeah, but it would make my life way easier, especially when you need your shoulder reset.” Jason shook his head and mumbled, “can’t believe you waited until morning to come to me.”

“You know if you tell him, he’ll kill you.”

“Hm, well I’ve tried that. Didn’t like it too much, so I guess I’m stuck.”

You nodded at Jason, bracing yourself for the pain. “Shit…” you mumbled as you felt the joint jolt back into place.

“You do remember that I’m your older brother too, right? I don’t like you going out by yourself either.”

“Yes and I have you on speed dial every time I’m out there.” You sighed, trying to give him some reassurance. “Plus…if my vitals drop below a certain point, my suit automatically sends a message straight to Dick and Bruce explaining everything. I can’t override it.”

“Still doesn’t make me feel great, especially since you probably have the settings set to when you’re dead.” You just stuck your tongue out in response. “So I didn’t hear Tim or Damian on that list…”

“Well, I barely know the demon brat. It’s been like a year since he stumbled into our lives, plus he’s a child.”

“Fair enough. You know you can’t blame Tim.”

“I’m not…blaming.”

Jason threw his hands up in defense, “If you say so.” Jason peripheral vision caught Tim’s figure and a smirk grew on his face. “Hey Timbers!” He shouted as you whipped around, hoping Jason was just joking. He wasn’t. “Y/N here could use a sparring partner. Someone to teach her the ropes.” You looked back at Jason, an angry glare in your eyes.

“She…uh…she wants me to teach her…?”

“Well I would love to Timbo, but I promised…uh…Dick that I would help him out.” Tim eyebrow’s shot up, clearly not believing his brother’s lies, before he turned towards you looking for clarification.

“That would be great Tim.” You gritted through your teeth, trying not to sound sarcastic. “Let me just go change.” You shot daggers back at Jason before scampering off. Tim waited until you faded from view before speaking again.

“You know she hates me, right Jay?”

“She doesn’t hate you. She hates what you took from her.”

“I didn’t take anything of hers.” Jason looked at his brother, solemnly.

“Tim. This…” Jason gestured around him, “has been her whole life. Don’t you think she wanted to be Robin? To prove that she belonged in this family.” Jason quickly dropped the serious demeanor. He was never very good at it anyways. “I think once she sees the real you, not the Robin you. She’ll come around replacement!” Jason’s eye caught you in the doorway. He jogged up next to you, “Remember to see past Robin.” He winked at you before leaving the two of you alone.

“Well that was weird.” Tim commented, gesturing you towards him.

“Eh. Jay only pretends not to care about family.” You brushed off the comment as you took your stance.

Hours went by, and your shoulder was well beyond it’s limit…something Tim noticed and used to pin you down one final time.

“Alright, I think you’re done.” He clamored as he held out a hand to help you up. A hand which you denied. “What did you do to your shoulder anyways? Need me to look at it?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” You swatted his hand away.

“Y/N/N!” You heard Dick’s voice in the distance.

“Don’t tell him anything.” You mumbled to Tim, before turning to greet your brother. “Dickie! Tim was just showing me some new moves.”

Dick stopped at your side, “Tim…you let Tim teach you?” Even Dick was in disbelief. You just shrugged, not offering a response. “Well I was looking for you to let you know I took the night off! I don’t have to leave after dinner.”

“Ohh…” You stammered, “I…uh…I have plans. With Ellen. Mo…movies.”

“Awe, can’t you cancel? I need time with my little sister.”

“I…I so would. But she’s going through this tough time. Her, uh, her boyfriend just broke up with her and…I just I need to be there.”

“Fine,” Dick whined out. “But we’re still on for the diner, right?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.” You pressed a kiss to Dick’s cheek before running out of the room. You were never good at lying to your brother and thankfully, due to his nightly activities, you rarely had to. Grabbing your phone, you quickly sent Ellen a text, just in case Dick decided to fact check you. Only it wasn’t Dick you needed to worry about. Dick would never believe that his baby sister was lying to him, Tim on the other hand witnessed the entire train wreck.

“I got a case to work on…” Tim gestured towards the computer before leaving Dick standing in the training room alone. Tim went back and forth in his mind, but ultimately decided he would check your phone just in case you were in trouble. That’s when he saw the text message. The one you just sent to Ellen.

Hey girl, used you as a lie to Dick. If he asks we are going to the movies and you just broke up with your boyfriend.

Man you really didn’t want to hang out with your brother tonight.

Yeah, well I already had plans and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!

That doesn’t say much…

😜😜

You were finally able to ditch your brother and were posted on a rooftop, just outside a supposed new drug den.

“What are we looking at?” The sudden voice made you jump. You quickly regained composure, striking a defensive stance. “Relax…” Red Robin came out of the shadows, “I only want to help.”

You huffed at the sight but attempted to contain your discontent, “You don’t normally patrol tonight.”

“Just wanted to keep the criminals on their toes.”

“I’m sure they’re shaking in their boots…to answer your question, I think it’s a new drug den. Followed someone here a few days ago.”

“Well, why aren’t we moving on it?”

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“And that would be…?”

“Someone who still has a choice. If you’re staying, I’m on channel 3.” You commented before dropping into the alley below. Red Robin moved to follow but stopped once he heard your voice come through his comm. “Stay there. We move when I say.” He looked down watching you corner someone.

“Jake.” You calmly called out towards the man. He spun around, realizing he was now stuck in the alley. “What are you doing here?”

“I just…I need money. My baby girl…I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice. I’m about to give you another one.”

“I can’t –” You cut him off.

“I’m not asking for anything regarding those idiots.” You gestured towards the drug den. “This is a choice for you. You can leave right now and trust that I’m going to help you. Or you can go in there and warn them that I’m coming. Maybe they’ll overpower me and maybe you’ll be rewarded for the tip. But think about the life that that leads to. You’re better than that life.”

“How…how would you know that?”

“Because I saw the desperation in your eyes a few nights ago. Then I did some digging. That was your first deal.”

“My daughter.”

“I always thought I never had a choice. I was groomed for this life and then it was held just beyond my reach. I was stuck until I made a different path for myself. Now I try to give that opportunity to others. People who thought they had run out of options.”

Tim was stuck in a trance as he watched this Jake character run the opposite way of the drug den. Eclipse was you; you had just made that painfully obvious. Though he wondered if you intended that or if your mind was set on helping Jake. Suddenly he was shaken from his mental state as your voice came over his comm yet again. “I’m going in the back door. Meet me there if you still want to help.”

You didn’t wait for his response, but noticed a shadowy figure following just above you. The two of you got to the door at the same time, Red Robin spoke first. “I’ll take left.” Tim wanted your sore shoulder exposed as little as possible.

“Your shoulder looks pretty bad…”

“It’ll be fine.” You tried to ignore the searing pain as the two of your waited for the police to come round up all the men.

“Do you want me to take a look?”

“No.”

“Do you at least want some high strength pain killers? I can bring some by –”

“Why are you insistent on helping?”

Red Robin shrugged, “Guess us vigilantes gotta stick together.”

“Right. I’m more of a solo gig kinda vigilante.” You saw a smirk graze his face as you heard the sirens approaching. “And that’s my queue.” You gestured towards the sound and bounded out the door. This is Tim. Tim Drake. He stole Robin from you. The words resonated through your head as you tried to forget tonight. It felt different. Or maybe Jason was right…

Once you got to your secret apartment, you showered and attempted a self-evaluation on your shoulder. You jumped upon hearing the sound of tapping against the glass. Shit. You raced into the bedroom, grabbing your discarded mask and throwing it on before sauntering into the living room.

“What do you want?” You questioned Red Robin’s presence as you opened the window.

“Thought you might want these.” He said, tossing you a bottle of pills. “Also, it would probably help if you wear this for a couple days.” Tim held out a sling.

“Yeah, can’t do that.”

“Hm. It’ll take twice as long to heal if you don’t.” He walked over, inspecting the bruising already forming on your shoulder. “This definitely didn’t happen tonight.”

“It was reset this morning.” You glanced at the time, 3:20am, “Well I guess yesterday morning. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright alright,” Tim held up his hands in defense before reaching into one of his pockets. “Well I know you’re a solo vigilante and all…but if you need me.” Tim placed a card and sling in your hand. Before you could respond he was out the window.

You decided it was probably best to wear the sling. Now all you needed was a lie for why you weren’t staying at the Manor.

It had only been a few hours before you woke up clouded in smoke. A fire raged around you. Maybe Tim wasn’t the only one who had followed you home. You shot up, immediately donning your mask and throwing your suit into a nearby duffel bag. Running around, you attempted to start collecting your equipment and paper trails as your phone dialed Jason. No answer. You then tried the comm in your mask, no answer. Shit. I’m going to have to call Tim.

“Eclipse?” The voice sounded groggy on the other end.

“Yeah so…I may be in some trouble.”

“Shit. Your apartment?”

“Yeah.” You jumped out of the way as the kitchen beam collapsed.

“What was that?!”

“Just…let me know when you’re here.”

You ignored his plea to stay on the line and focused on fastening everything to your body. This is going to hurt. You freed your arm from the sling and stepped onto the window ledge. Unfortunately, you were right. Tim was not the only person to follow you tonight, and this person wanted you dead. They were waiting for you to leap from that window. You didn’t even make it to the pavement before you heard the gun fire.

241 notes · View notes

volkswagonblues · 3 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic about piandao and jeong jeong, like just anything about them but i'd read the SHIT out of the modern au you told me about where they bicker about politics

SO. This is the WORST time to be writing 1.5k of fiction about a modern (well, 90′s) AU starring two dudes who have never even spoken to each other in canon, but uh, the world is awful and I consider creating rarepair content a form of self-care, so here we go.

The context for this is of course, JJ is second-generation Korean-American from LA, Piandao is a foreign student from Taiwan pursuing a doctorate in the US. The year is 1993 and ideas about race, activism, the term “Asian-American” are all up in the air. We are one year post the ‘92 L.A. race riots and four years away from antiretroviral therapy becoming the new treatment standard for HIV. The AIDS crisis is in full swing, as it has been since the 80′s. Welcome to America.

“Jujube”

The week after his appendectomy, Piandao is up and moving around by the end of the third day, a full four days ahead of schedule. His shoulder aches, the scar on his stomach hurts, but still, he is up and moving, even though Jeong Jeong rolls his eyes when he catches him walking up and down the length of his bedroom, working the muscles that are suffering more from being bed-bound than from surgery.

Jeong Jeong, underneath the surly exterior, is a surprisingly maternal caretaker. Piandao has no appetite for anything flavourful in the first few days, which the nurses said was normal. So for every meal since he’s back from the hospital, Jeong Jeong cooks him a bowl of porridge and does it with a degree of care that Piandao honestly did not know he possessed. Piandao wouldn’t have minded just plain white rice and water, but Jeong Jeong, in his typical Jeong Jeong-fashion, disagreed. He spends a long time in Piandao’s kitchen every morning, making what he claims is the superior (ie, Korean) juk that his mother makes, but is really exactly similar to the zhou Piandao is used to back home, only it’s made by an angry Korean man swearing at the morning cable news, taking only occasional breaks to bemoan the sad state of Asian grocery stores in Midwest college towns.

“I’m feeling well enough to cook,” Piandao says on the morning of his fourth day home. “JJ, relax. You don’t have to do everything around here.”

Jeong Jeong looks up from his work: crushing sesame seeds in a plastic bag with the back of a soup spoon. “Shut the fuck up,” he says easily.

“I can at least wash the dishes—“

“I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Bill Ritter.”

Piandao looks at the television in the corner. A news show was on, some Sunday morning thing he doesn’t remember seeing before. Currently, it was showing them three glossy-looking American hosts sitting on glossy-looking American couches. A man in a beige suit was saying something very earnest about the President and Haiti and also taxes. Piandao guesses that he’s Bill Ritter.

“Fucking Clinton already retracting on his fucking word,” Jeong Jeong mutters, then smashes the spoon down with ferocious force; in their plastic bag, the sesame seeds die and ascend to paste in an instant.

Piandao bites back a smile. He switches the channel: ads now, more glossy Americans driving glossy American cars, big and square. The ad changes: a family of four arriving at a motel, everything even bigger and squarer than the previous one. The mother in a big square jacket; the father smile with big square teeth. The kids chatter in excited tones: We’re so happy to be at Holiday Inn Express! Then Piandao hits the off button, and the American family disappears; the screen puckers up into dark silence again.

He slowly feels his way into the kitchen instead. He rather watch Jeong Jeong cook.

On the stove, the porridge bubbles. Jeong Jeong adds the pounded sesame and gives it a stir, then adds more sugar, then milk. He ladles it into two bowls and brings it over to the kitchen table, which is also the living room table, which is also Piandao’s desk where he grades students’ lab reports and corrects exams. There were a few back issues of various astrophysics journals still stacked there; Jeong Jeong puts them to use as coasters. Volume 10, issue 4 of Space Science Review goes to Piandao’s bowl; the special Winter 1992 edition of Annual Review of Astronomy and Astrophysics to Jeong Jeong. Piandao, trailing behind him, brings the spoons. They sit down, knees almost touching.

“How is it?” asks Jeong Jeong.

Piandao blows on his spoon and takes in a mouthful. “Not bad,” he says. “Although it’ll be better with some – I don’t know the word – but those little red fruits.”

“Jujubes,” says Jeong Jeong, and then: “Fuck off, be grateful for what you’ve got. You know how long it took me to even locate some sesame seeds in a Salt Lake City grocery store?”

Sunday morning slants in from between the slats of the crooked window blinds. In the sharp angle of the light, his features look different: the sun picks out the bronze-ish tint in his dark hair, makes the shell of his ear glow pink and red. In front of him, the steam from the porridge unfurls in delicate, thin grey spirals.

Piandao put his spoon down. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. “You really didn’t have to. The plane ticket from Los Angeles must have been expensive.”

A shrug. “Couldn’t let you die alone in Utah, of all places.”

“It was just an appendectomy. How much did you pay for the flight? I can…I can pay you back, the university gives me a stipend, I can afford it.”

Jeong Jeong sets his spoon down too, picks up the bowls and takes them over to rinse in the sink.

“When I got the call from the secretary,” he says, not looking up from the dish sponge. “She didn’t say what happened. She just said, please can you be informed that Mr. Liu has been taken to the hospital for a medical emergency, she had just gone down the list of his emergency contact numbers and you happened to be the first one who picked up, and then she hung up. I barely got the name of the hospital out of her before she did. Nothing more. I called back and got a busy line. And then I thought – I started thinking – I didn’t know what I was thinking. I got scared. I just came back from SF that day – I went to see Johnny and Gene at the General, and when I got back in and the phone rang and the woman said you were sick too…I don’t know.”

The bowls, scrubbed to death, are getting beyond clean. Jeong Jeong throws the sponge down, where it lands with a wet smack.

“I know you’re not like me,“ he adds wretchedly. “I mean, I know you’re not a homosexual. And besides: fucking Utah? Of all places? I knew it was probably nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” Piandao says.

Jeong Jeong stabs a finger in his direction. “But don’t you dare pay me back though. Don’t you even try that shit on me. I will actually punch you if you try.”

Piandao says nothing. He pictures the cramped kitchenette of Jeong Jeong’s apartment off Hoover Street, with its ugly green plastic phone duct-taped to the wall, opposite to the grimy stove and the eternal stacks of takeout containers and the Proud Berkley Grad of ’87 fridge magnet that Piandao had bought him as a joke, when Jeong Jeong finally carried through on his threats and really dropped out, for good this time. He pictures Jeong Jeong stumbling back in fron the hospital, exhausted, and then accepting a long-distance call from Utah anyways.

Jeong Jeong had taken the call and flew out the very next morning. He had came in such a hurry that he brought nothing with him other than the clothes he was wearing and a backpack full of California oranges, because he had some idea that vitamin C was vital to every patient’s recovery, no matter the ailment. He had come to Piandao.

Times like this, Piandao wishes his English is better. Even now, after five years in this country, he has no way to express how he feels, right now, standing in the doorway of his kitchen while Jeong Jeong slams dishes and utensils back into their drawers, shoulders hunched over. Something hot and formless is coursing through his chest, but Piandao can’t shape it. He can’t forge the thing into words.

Perhaps there’s no words at all for this in English. Not in Chinese, either, and not in Korean. There are no words for this in any language in the world.

So Piandao reaches out instead. He touches a hand to the curve of Jeong Jeong’s back, and when Jeong Jeong looks over, questioning, he clears his throat and says:

“I liked it. The zhou.”

“You mean juk,” Jeong Jeong corrects him, as contrary as ever.

“Alright, the juk. It was very good.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not shitting me?”

“No. I should call your mother, tell her what a good chef her son is becoming.”

“Fuck off,” Jeong Jeong says, but he smiles anyways.

Piandao smiles back. His hand is still where he put it, resting on Jeong Jeong’s back, and he does not move it away. This, also – this is an unspoken message, but not for forever. Already Piandao can see the shape of it in his future. Something was unfurling between them, as delicate as steam, as marvellous as light.

#my fic #Avatar The Last Airbender #pianjeong #lmao my headcanon for this niche pairing is so insanely highly specific idk what to even do about this #not sure if this even makes sense #but also my brain desperately needs a distraction from the News (tm)#so to anyone who's into asian american history and rairpairs #bitch please #join me in the 90s #its also quite shit over there but i have the benefit of historical distance to cushion the misery

21 notes · View notes

thefloatingstone · 4 years

Text

If you’re doing Self Quarintine (and you should be if you can help it) here’s some Youtube recommendations! Some of these I have posted about or recommended before but with almost all of us stuck indoors now’s a good time to remind you of some cool things you can watch for free!

I’m not gonna imbed the videos, I’ll just post the link because otherwise I would only able to post 5 and I want to collect a few so you can make a playlist or something. (I could make a playlist too but then I couldn’t tell you what each video is and you can’t pick and choose which one sounds interesting to you)

In no particular order:

Polybius: The video Game that doesn’t exist

An hour long documentary in which the youtuber did extensive research to find the origin of the “Polybius” Urban Legend, which speaks of an early arcade game reportedly seen around the early 1980s which reportedly gave people migraines, insomnia, nausea, subliminal messages, and in some cases heart attacks.

The Universal S

A shorter video in which LEMMiNO does his very best to try and track down where exactly this S that we all drew in middle school comes from? Why does literally every country on earth seem to HAVE their children draw this S?

I also recommend LEMMiNO’s video on the Dayltov Pass Incident and the perplexing UFO cases

Down the Rabbit Hole: Henry Darger

Fredrick Knudsen has an incredible fascinating series called “Down the Rabbit Hole” which simply focuses on... anything you can discover and go digging into. From weird internet personalities, to bizarre happenings in history. This video is about the artist Henry Darger, a man who lived in the early 1900s and for all intents and purposes had a perfectly average, lonely life, until it was discovered just before his death he had spent literally decades writing and drawing a fantasy world in what is possibly the longest piece of literature ever written.

I also recommend his video on the Hurdy Gurdy

Bedtime Stories Channel

I’m actually just gonna link the whole channel for “Bedtime Stories”. If you like weird and creepy stories, all of which at least claim to be “true” then Bedtime Stories is great. Coupled by illustrations and subtle sound effects, Bedtime Stories is literally listening to someone tell you a story about such things like hikers who mysteriously went missing, Sightings of Bog Men in Florida and giant Birds over Chernobyl, as well as weird and unsettling murders that remain unsolved. Sometimes the facts are a little dubious or have been disproved, but that’s not the point of the channel. It’s here to tell a creepy story, not give you a documentary.

A Journey Through Rule of Rose

Rule of Rose is a Survival Horror gave for the PS2 which has rather bad gameplay... but a FASCINATING story with just as many layers and symbolism as Silent Hill 2 could boast. It tells the story of one young woman traveling back into her own childhood in an orphanage in the 1930s, and all the horrors that contains. From repressed grief, abusive relationships, child neglect, abuse, and bullying... but it ALSO contains symbolism of societal class structure, politics, eating the rich, and how power structures work. Not for the faint of heart, but HIGHLY recommended.

I also super highly recommend his video on the similarities between Silent Hill 2 and Solaris

Clemps Reviews Crisis Core

Mr. Clemps is a great internet gamer who reviews JRPGs and other games he simply enjoys. Sprinkling in a heavy dose of comedy and very fast jokes and observations, Clemps’ videos are always upbeat, fun, and incredibly enjoyable to watch. I’m linking part 1 of his Crisis Core video in which he explains why the PSP game remains a personal favourite of his despite its flaws.

I also recommend his video on Eternal Sonata

Defunct TV: The History of Dragon Tales

Defunctland is a channel that deals with theme parks and theme park rides that are no longer standing, or which are no longer around in their current form. Defunctland also has a sub series though, called “Defunct TV” where they look at the origin of children’s TV which are no longer airing. I recommend the video on Dragon Tales which is incredibly wholesome, and a genuinely uplifting and soft story of good people trying to make good things for children. (I also recommend the videos on Bear in the Big Blue House, Zoboomafoo, and Legends of the Hidden Temple)

Hagan’s Histories of Polar Exploration

A Playlist for Diamanda Hagan’s videos about the doomed Franklin Expedition from the late 1800s, where England tried to find a passage through the Northern Arctic to the Pacific Ocean. This went horribly horribly wrong, with every member of the Expedition dead. Over a 100 years later we are still fuzzy on what EXACTLY happened, but apart from the arctic chill, there is also evidence of faulty canned food, a series of bad decisions, and cannibalism. Caution advised for this series.

I also recommend the rest of Diamanda Hagan’s channel. She is NOT for everyone, but if you enjoy somebody reviewing Z grade indie movies as well as just BIZARRE films, really bad Christian media bordering on Science Fiction (without making fun of religion itself) hot takes of classic (and modern) Dr. Who, an introduction to Red Dwarf, She’s an EXCELLENT channel to check out.

Good Bad or Bad Bad: Pass Thru

A half podcast half review show where two guys watch a terrible film, decide if it’s “Good” Bad or just Bad Bad and tell you if you should watch it too.

That’s it. That’s the whole show.

I recommend diving into the untold madness that is one of the best(?) bad film makers currently still producing batshit insane movies, the immortal Niel Breen.

There is literally nothing I can say that’ll prepare you for Niel Breen.

(I also recommend their more recent video for “Dancin’ It’s on!”)

History Buffs: Apollo 13

Do you like History? Do you like movies ABOUT History? Do you want to know if the movies about history you watch actually resemble what really happened in any way at all? History Buffs is an EXCELLENT channel, which does talk about the merit of a film itself, but is mainly focused on letting you know just how true to life that historical film you watch is. I highly recommend his longest video which covers the space race between the USA and the USSR, leading to what is known as “The most Successful Failure in NASA’s History”. The Infamous Apollo 13 and where the words “Houston, we have a problem” came from.

If you’re not interested in Apollo 13 however, I also recommend his video on the movie Casino, as well as his video on the female philosopher, Agora.

The Internet Historian: The Goodening of No Man’s Sky

With videos with literally MILLIONS of views, you probably already know the Internet Historian. But I still want to recommend him very highly because his videos are just THAT good and entertaining. I recommend his newest video, documenting that time we were all pissed off about No Man’s Sky, the difficulties the game studio was in when the game released, and how they have been working hard to finally create what is now a truly brilliant game which is winning major awards. A really good underdog story of how a video game company actually saw what was wrong with their game, and FIXED it.

I also recommend his video on Fallour 76 as well as the Failure of Dashcon

8 Creepy Video game mysteries

Hey. Did you know that sometimes there’s some REALLY weird shit in video games, hidden easter eggs which took literal decades to find as well as just a lot of “what the actual fuck?”. Oddheader is a channel with a dedicated discord and Reddit form solely focusing on trying to find or replicate bizarre video game finds, mysteries, and hidden glitches. Even if it means getting in his car and driving to a specific arcade just to check a rumour about Street Fighter II’s arcade version. So if you like getting spooked by weird game shit that’s not just some dumb creepypasta, this is a great place to start.

I also recommend his video on weird discoveries in DVDs and movies.

Red Letter Media: Best of the Worst

Look you already know who Red Letter Media is.

You know... these guys:

Here’s a video of them and Macaulay Culkin watching 3 terrible movies together.

I recommend literally any and all of their videos. Their discussion on Carpenter’s The Thing is amazing.

The Impact of Akira: The film that changed Everything

Ok trying to pick just ONE Super Eyepatch Wolf video is literal torture. Originally I was going to suggest his recent video on Final Fantasy 7 for the PSone but I realised I recommended something FF7 related with Clemps, so instead I will recommend The Impact of Akira, a video talking in depth about Akira both as a film as well as a manga, how it completely and utterly changed the anime industry both in Japan as well as the west, and why it is still a meaningful and one of the most important anime/manga even to this day, still being unsurpassed despite so much competition.

However, ALL of Wolf’s videos are incredible, so I also recommend his videos on wrestling (despite me not caring about wrestling at all), His video on how media scares us, The bizarre reality of modern Simpsons, Why the Dragon Ball Z manga is great, and literally any other video he’s made. He hasn’t made one bad video yet.

Was Oblivion as Good as I remember?

Exactly what it says on the tin. The Salt Factory goes back to playing The Elder Scrolls Oblivion and now with hindsight and modern sensibilities, gives feedback on his experience and whether Oblivion still holds up. This isn’t a super in depth review of the game’s mechanics or how its put together or how it was made. This is simply one guy talking about his experience replaying it with somejokes thrown in and how he felt revisiting it. It’s pretty good.

I also recommend the video he did on Morrowind (because I’m biased).

Weird Japan Only PS1 games

Thor High Heels is SO GOOD and deserves SO MUCH MORE subs than he currently has. THH focuses a lot of obscure and lesser known games as well as big popular titles like the Yakuza series, talking about what he likes about them, what he thinks is cool, and just what kind of atmosphere and mood a certain game has, even if the game itself is kind of ass. He’s done several videos on games that were only released in Japan, as well as videos talking about the fashion in Squaresoft games and how it inspired as well as was inspired by real world street fashion, the aesthetic of PC-98 games and other topics. He also styles his videos and thumbnails after promotional art for video games from the 90s and generally just has an excellent style to his channel over all. Very chill.

Blue Reflection Review

ValkyrieAurora is a channel run by Sophie where she talks about games she personally likes and enjoys. Her videos are really laid back and her voice is really calm and pleasant to listen to. She’s made a bit of a reputation for herself as “The channel that talks about the Atelier Games” and general is just a really enjoyable channel worth checking out if you just want something soothing to listen to.

Ancient Chinese Historians Describe Japan

Voices from the Past is a channel were historical text is read out loud in english. These can be anything like the above video where Chinese historians describe the people of Japan around 297 AD, Accounts of “Dog-Men”, or the worlds oldest letter of complaint from 1750 BC. If you’d like something interesting historically to listen to but don’t want a full blown history lesson, this is a really good way to hear contemporary people talk about their experiences and what they thought about each other in their own words, without opinions or input given by the narrator.

The Most Mysterious Song on the Internet

Whang! is a channel that covers weird internet stories, some horrifying, some curious and interesting, and some just plain weird. His video on The Most Mysterious Song on the Internet and its update, are about a song which was recorded off the radio in Germany around the 1980s, and after one person online asked if anyone knew who the artist was as they couldn’t find any information, led to the realization that NOBODY online knows where this song came from or who sang it. It’s a fun mystery to look into that, unlike some others on this list, is not creepy or unsettling, although perhaps a little frustrating.

I also recommend his video on The Most Mysterious Anime theme song, and the haunted Ebay Painting.

5 Lost, Destroyed, and Locked away Broadcasts

Yesterworld is similar to the Defunctland channel in that it talks about obsolete rides, theme parks and other forgotten pieces of entertainment. Although the majority of the channel focuses on movie rides, rollercoasters and Disneyland, I recommend the video on lost and locked away broadcasts which you can no longer see. I also recommend the video about Lost and Rediscovered movie props.

The Nightmare Artist

I talked about this one recently as I just discovered this channel. This video is about the renowned Polish artist Zdzislaw Beksinski who painted surreal and horrifying paintings during his lifetime. There is no mystery here or anything like that, it merely talks about the impact WWII left on Beksinski and how the trauma his country and people suffered influenced his painting, and how certain images and motifs can be seen to directly reference this terrible part of Poland’s history.

Disabilities in Prehistory

Modern media likes to portray how “savage” the ancient past is, and tell us stories of how any person born with a deformity or disability would be thrown over a cliff or dumped in a well because they would be too big a drain on a community to look after. But here’s the thing... according to archaeological evidence, it turns out our ancient ancestors actually did their best to look after its disabled members to the best of their abilities. This video talks about archaeological finds of people who had genetic disabilities and what we can learn from their remains. TREY the Explainer is a great channel for archaeology and also talking about what answers we could have for sightings of cryptids. (not ALL of which we have answers for)

I also recommend his video on Pre-Contact dogs as well as Homosexuality in Nature and the Genetic History of the Ainu.

Decoding “The Secret: A treasure Hunt”

“The Secret” was an art book released in the 80s full of beautiful paintings, but it is also more than that. The book has a fantasy story talking about 12 fantastical races who left wonderful treasures for humans to find,and the book’s paintings and riddles will tell you where you can find each of these treasures which are yours to keep if you can solve the puzzle... and the treasures are 100% true and can actualy be found and claimed, if you can solve the riddles in the book. The video tells the story of the artbook, who was behind it, what the treasures are, how many have been found and various other facts and details.

I also recommend the videos on this channel “The Game: A scavenger Hunt” and “The investigation of Erratas”.

5 Ancient Inventions That Were WAY Ahead Of Their Time

I would recommend you be careful with this channel as its main focus is existentialism and rather alarming topics such as “how close are we to the apocalypse” and other things whose titles alone are enough to upset me. However this video is nothing like that. This video is exactly what the title suggests it is. 5 ancient inventions that were so incredibly ahead of their time you’d think they were made up. From the computer used by ancient Greeks to steel swords we don’t know how to replicate, this video is a great mix of mystery and history.

Although I caution you with this channel, I recommend Joe’s other videos about mysterious books, as well as his video on the most inbred people in history.

However, I know I keep repeating this, I highly recommend caution with this channel. Perhaps its just me and the topics of life and existent are just triggering for me, but I’d recommend maybe just doing a search for the titles I mentioned and not to go searching through the video library unless you’re not bothered by this kind of thing.

Anyway I could keep going, but I think that’s a LARGE amount of videos to keep you occupied for the time being as well as some suggestions for further viewing.

Please enjoy, let me know if you found something interesting, and look after yourself!

If you enjoyed this list at all, please consider tipping me for a coffee

☕️ Ko-fi ☕️

#self isolation #Youtube #Links #Recommended #recommendations #documentary #long post #ask to tag #tumblr ate the 'read more' I put on this so screw it #Just scroll past or hit J to skip this if you want #No editing we die like men

294 notes · View notes

stardust-walker · 3 years

Text

High Hopes: Chapter 15

Previous Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

word count: 3897

_______________________________________________________

Julian didn’t know what to think of the new group that had just come onto the farm. He didn’t trust the one guy, that was for sure. He’d gone into the city with Otis and had come back without him. Otis was a good person, but it didn’t sound right. He probably would’ve done anything to save a little kid but the guy seemed sketchy. He felt sort of relieved when it seemed like not everyone bought his bullshit either.

He was jumpy as he waited for Maggie to get back from her run to the store. Since Otis, the thought of people leaving the farm felt like they were marching off to their deaths. A smile was on his face as he finally spotted Maggie riding up on her horse with Glenn. That guy didn’t seem too bad, at least. Unable to contain himself, he leapt off the porch and had the reins of Glenn’s horse in his hands before the other man could say anything. “Let me help you put the horses back,” he said brightly.

Maggie and Glenn exchanged a look before Maggie replied. “Sure thing. Thanks for all your help out there, Glenn.”

Julian looked over his shoulder as the other man hurried off to join the rest of his group by the tents as the dark haired woman from before and her redneck companion came out from the trees. “What do you think,” he questioned Maggie before he clicked his tongue and began to lead to horse to the stable.

“Nothin to think. They find that little girl, odds are my daddy’s gonna make them leave,” Maggie shrugged her shoulders from atop the horse.

Julian nodded his head slowly, “You see anything out there?”

“We didn’t see her out there if that’s what you’re askin me, Jude.” Maggie shook her head before she let out a long sigh.

Julian’s shoulders slumped. He couldn’t help but stare out at the barn in the distance as he opened the door to the horse’s pen. A shiver ran down his back before he averted his eyes. “Better than the alternative, I guess.”

Dove rested somewhat easily that night, she felt some comfort in the fact that the next day would mean the search was in full swing. She still hated doing the laundry, though. She would rather be out there in the woods looking for Sophia, but Carol had roped her into her chore. “C’mon. No one wants to help me with this. Andrea’s off tryin’ to play Annie Oakley somewhere and Lori’s still sleepin.”

“I wish I was still sleepin,” Dove grumbled as she picked up a basket of clothes. She squinted her hazel eyes at the closest well. “Jesus, what happened over there?”

Carol shook her head. “You missed it. They sent Glenn down into the well. Apparently there was a walker down there.” Dove opened her mouth to reply but Carol cut her off. “I know you woulda raised all types of hell if you were here, but Glenn’s fine. You’ve seen him.”

Dove huffed and blew a stray hair out of her eyes. “I’m gonna give that little bastard a piece of my mind for not tellin me about that. When I’m done with him, he’ll wanna go back down that well.” She let out a chuckle.

It felt like hours, but it wasn’t too long until she was sitting on top of a picnic table, basket of wet clothes next to her. She handed Carol a wet shirt to hang up as Lori stepped out of her tent. “Mornin, princess,” Dove called over cheerfully, “Nice of you to join us.”

Lori managed a weak smile as she walked over and greeted the two sisters. “Can’t believe I slept in.”

“You probably needed it,” Carol smiled at her.

“Yeah, I think we all need to take turns sleeping in. It feels amazing,” Dove yawned as she ran a hand through her ponytail.

“You feelin ok,” Carol scrutinized Lori carefully as the other woman nodded. “I have an idea I wanted to run by you two. That big kitchen of theirs got me thinking, I wouldn’t mind cooking in a real kitchen again.” Dove smiled as she thought about Carol’s cooking. She definitely wasn’t a five-star chef by any means, but Carol was a good cook. There was no doubt about that. “Maybe we all pitch in and make dinner for Hershel and his family tonight. Kind of looking for things to keep my mind occupied.”

Dove leaned back on her hands with a heavy sigh as she looked up at the sky. She really wanted to be out there. She wanted to help look for Sophia, but she knew Carol would fight her on it. Maybe the right place for her to be was here on the farm; she needed to be with her sister.

“Seems like the least we could do,” Lori agreed.

Dove nodded her head, “Yeah sure. I’ll try to help. I’m not real good in the kitchen, but I’ll try my best.” She flashed her sister a quick smile.

“You mind extending the invitation,” Carol smiled at Lori. Would feel more right comin from you,” Carol reasoned.

Dove eyed Lori. “You’re like our unofficial First Lady,” Carol joked.

Lori and Dove both rolled their eyes but Dove let out a snort of laughter. “President Rick Grimes? I don’t remember votin, but that sounds about right,” she raised an eyebrow at Lori and raised a hand quick enough to block a clothespin from hitting her face.

Meanwhile, Julian had made his way over to the group by the car. He felt like he should be trying to help them look for that little girl. Every person out there could make a difference in finding her or not. He would want people out there looking for his sister like this if he had any idea where she was.

“She might have gone further east than we’ve been so far,” Rick stated as he laid the map out in front of them.

“I’d like to help,” Jimmy spoke up first and Julian narrowed his eyes at the younger man. Hershel would kick his ass for trying. Jimmy was just a kid, but Julian was grown enough to make his own decisions. “I know the area pretty well and stuff.

“I think I know the area better than you, Jim,” Julian spoke quietly as he approached the group.

“Hershel’s okay with this?” Good question. Julian would like to believe Jimmy, but he couldn’t help but think the kid was full of shit trying to look cool in front of his girlfriend.

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me,” Shane spoke from the car.

Shane gave Julian the creeps. “They found Elizabeth Smart nine months after she went missing on pure chance of someone noticing the people who took her,” he remembered seeing something about it when he was younger and it just stuck with him. Shane might be a cop, but it seemed like he wasn’t too invested in the search.

“Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high,” Daryl held his hand out to about elbow height. Definitely seemed like a little kid and unless Georgia was suddenly overflowing with feral children, Shane was full of shit.

“Maybe we’ll pick up her trail again,” Rick sounded hopeful.

“No maybe about it. I’m gonna borrow a horse,” Daryl pointed at the map. Hershel won’t be happy about that, Julian thought but didn’t speak. He didn’t want to get on the bad side of this guy.

“Good idea,” T-Dog spoke up, “Maybe you’ll see your Chupacabra up their too.” A short laugh echoed from behind Julian and he turned to see Dove, still perched on the picnic table, shake her head.

“Chupacabra,” Rick inquired.

“You never heard this,” Dale sighed. “Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time he went squirrel hunting and he saw a Chupacabra.” Julian shuddered at the thought of the goat sucking monster; Jimmy laughed. Julian gave him a quick slap to the back of the head as Daryl spoke again.

“What are you braying at, Jackass?”

“You believe in a blood-sucking dog,” Jimmy questioned.

“You believe the dead walk,” Daryl sneered.

“He’s got you there, Jimbo,” Julian shrugged his shoulders as he rested his hand on the hood of the truck. Jimmy reached for a gun, man that kid was really trying it today.

“Why don’t you come train tomorrow,” Shane offered. “If you’re serious, I’m a certified instructor.”

Andrea spoke up, “For now, he can come with us.”

“If it’s alright, I’d like to go with Jimmy.” Julian turned his attention to Rick. He didn’t feel like going in a car with Shane. The last man to go with him somewhere didn’t exactly seem to fare too well. Even if it meant going with the woman that he didn’t really know and someone who’d made fun of someone for believing in a Chupacabra.

Rick nodded his head and held out his hand to the younger man, “Alright. Thanks for helping us, kid.”

“Julian, sir.”

“Rick is just fine,” the sheriff smiled a little.

“Right, sorry. Not used to bein too friendly to the police. But, no problem, Rick. It feels right to help. Just hope we find her,” Julian nodded his head. The others didn’t notice him tense up as he turned his attention away from the barn and focused on the search plan.

Dove let out a heavy sigh as she turned her attention from the parting group to the house. She couldn’t keep Carol waiting much longer or she might send out another search party for her. As she ascended the steps, Glenn caught her attention. He seemed out of it. “Yoo-hoo. Earth to Glenn,” Dove waved a hand at him.

The man jumped slightly as he turned his head to look at his friend. The smile on his face fell slightly as he realized who was standing in front of him. “Hey, Dove. You not heading out today?”

“Nah, decided I might as well tend to my womanly duties,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder in an exaggerated manner. “You alright, bud? You see kind of out of it since you got back yesterday.” Dove frowned as she leaned against the post.

“I’m fine. Just…a lot going on in my head, you know,” Glenn smiled sadly as he rested his hand on the guitar in his lap.

A sly look was in Dove’s eye as she spoke. “Well channel all of that emotion into a song and I’m sure you can woo yourself a farmer’s daughter in no time,” she wiggled her eyebrows at him.

The blush that shot up into Glenn’s cheek answered any questions she might have had. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothin! Just that I think a blind man all the way in Korea can see what I’m talking about! But that’s none of my business,” she shrugged her shoulders and took a step closer to him. “But if you do happen to want to talk about it, just let me know! I’m your friend and I’ll always be here to listen. Plus, no better person to go to for girly advice than a girl.” She chuckled as she ruffled Glenn’s hair.

Glenn smiled at the woman as she took a step back towards the door, “Thanks…”

Dove thought that Hershel’s house was nice and she made sure to tell them so. “Well thank you,” Patricia nodded her head politely.

Dove bit her lip as she looked around the hallway. “I just want to thank you,” she turned her attention back to the older blonde. Her expression seemed to be unreadable. Something about these people was off to her. They all seemed nice, but something wasn’t right about any of them. “For letting us stay here while we look for our niece. It’s not something you have to do especially now, you don’t know any of us from those walkers in the streets.”

Patricia held up a hand to stop her, “It’s not a problem. I just want to make sure that Rick and Hershel have made it very clear to you…”

“Once we find Sophia, once Carl is good to roll, we’re gone,” Dove nodded her head. “But still. Thank you,” she smiled as she turned on her heel to walk into the kitchen. “Just hope you don’t mind your mashed potatoes with a little crisp,” she called as she entered the room, “I suck at cooking!”

Carol shook her head at her younger sister as Lori laughed. “You can measure the ingredients,” Carol patted her arm.

“Listen, we all have skills. I was not made to be a house wife,” Dove raised her hands in surrender. “You, however, were a better housewife than any man ever deserved.” She winked at her sister.

Slightly uncomfortable, Lori changed the subject quickly. “You know you weren’t made to be a housewife?” She looked over her shoulder at the younger brunette as she began to peel a potato.

“Sure do. I was a few months away from trying it out, but let’s just say I had to cancel the subscription before the free trial ended,” Dove popped a piece of carrot into her mouth.

Carol clicked her tongue disapprovingly, “Still think you were better off. He seemed unstable.”

“Who? Owen,” Dove questioned her sister with a raised eyebrow. Carol just turned her attention to her. Dove rolled her eyes as she picked up a bigger carrot and started to peel it. “I mean he was a little…quirky.”

Lori let out a small groan at this, “Honey, we all know what quirky means. Quirky is code for ‘you’re unstable but I love you’.” The older brunette elbowed Dove lightly.

Carol let out a quiet snort of laughter at this, “You got that right. The one time when we went up to visit, we stayed in DC so-”

Dove cut her off with a panicked laugh, “Alright listen, I get it! Owen was unstable and I have terrible taste in men, but it’s over now so…we don’t have to rehash that story! Alright.”

It was quiet in the kitchen for a moment before Lori whispered, “You’ll tell me later?”

“Oh, you bet,” Carol whispered back as Lori picked up a bucket to go collect more water.

“The hell you will,” Dove shouted as she picked up a carrot shaving and whipped it at her sister. “Be serious and cut up your god damn carrots,” Dove laughed and shook her head. Still, her thoughts went back to her life before everything went to shit. Actually, this was more like her life going to shit take two. Carol was right, she was way better off.

“Bout time you strolled on up here, Dixon.” Daryl’s attention snapped to the side, back to the direction of the farm.

“Hell do you want,” he snapped at the figure in front of him even though he knew she wasn’t real.

“Should really be getting home,” the figure spoke as she twirled a small pendant between her fingers. She wasn’t really there, but her hazel eyes stared right into his soul just like if she were there, “getting dark out.”

“Shut up,” Daryl snapped as he started stomping back towards the farm. The figure was a few steps ahead of him as he shuffled forward. “Don’t give a shit anyway.”

“Like you said. Merle wasn’t there for you, so why should you listen to him,” the voice was further ahead now and he glanced around before he spotted it a few yards ahead between the trees. “So man the fuck up and use you head for once, asshole.” When Daryl blinked, she was gone.

Dove had decided to take a break from the kitchen, but she didn’t seem to be able to find anyone that she wanted to see. Glenn seemed even more miserable than before, the other men were back without much news, and Daryl still wasn’t back yet. The last part made her feel uneasy. It was getting dark out. A creek on the porch made her turn her attention. “Julian, right? You find anything before,” she stepped towards him.

The young man lowered his binoculars before he shook his head, “Not a thing. Sorry. Maybe your friend found something?”

“Who?”

“The redneck guy. Daryl?”

Dove scoffed, “I don’t think that you can really say that me and Daryl are friends but…”

Andrea’s panicked shouts about a walker cut through the relative silence. Dove felt her pulse quicken and Julian shook his head, “we don’t get many walkers out this far.” He stepped quickly off the porch to help out and shoved the binoculars into Dove’s hand as he went.

Something in her gut told her to look through and when she did, the binoculars fell from her hand as she took off at a run. “Wait,” she shouted as she ran faster than she thought she had in years. She didn’t even realize how quick she was running until she was about halfway across the field.

“Is that Daryl,” Glenn said.

“Holy hell, man. You look like shit,” Julian shouted.

“That’s the third time you’ve pointed that thing at my head,” Dove heard Daryl reply and she slowed down to a walk as a relieved laugh left her lips. “You gonna pull the trigger or what?”

It was silent for a few moments as Dove continued to approach the group. Glenn turned and noticed her but as Dove opened her mouth to call out, a gunshot rang out. What left her throat instead was a panicked scream as adrenaline took over and she took off again. She didn’t even realize what she’d done until her knees hit the ground. Rick was screaming back at Andrea and there was blood on her hands. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck,” Dove turned her head back in the direction of camp before she turned her head back to the sight in front of her. “Dumb fucking bitch, cmon don’t be dead please.” Dove muttered as Rick dropped to the ground next to her. “She shot him in the fucking head,” Dove’s voice shook as she reached a shaking hand out and turned Daryl’s head slightly.

“Good thing she’s a bad shot,” Rick mumbled as Daryl let out a pained groan. His eyes fluttered open for a moment and Dove felt relieved as she realized that he might look out of it, but he wasn’t one of them. He wasn’t dead yet. A hand on her shoulder pulled her to her feet as Glenn wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

Glenn gave her shoulder a squeeze as they watched Rick and Shane haul Daryl to his feet. “I was kidding,” he growled before he passed out.

Anger flared through Dove as Andrea approached them asking if he was dead.

“He’s wearing ears,” Dove heard Glenn’s panicked voice over the pounding of her blood in her ears. Her gaze fell to T-Dog as she fought to control her anger. How could you be so stupid Rick told you not to do it, she raged internally. Even the sight of Sophia’s doll couldn’t calm her down. All she could think of was how, if Andrea had killed Daryl, they would never know where Sophia might be.

She reached a boiling point as they crossed over into camp. All of the bullshit thoughts and prayers about Sophia. All of the wanting to save people and act like she was big and tough. On top of losing Sophia, it was too much. “I’m so sorry,” she heard Andrea say again as Glenn finally released her arm.

“You’re sorry,” Dove rounded on the blonde woman. The few people who hadn’t rushed into the house froze, Carol put a hand over her mouth and shook her head. “You’re sorry that Sophia’s missing. You’re sorry that you wanted to blow yourself up. You’re sorry that you fucking almost killed the one person who might have the best shot at finding Sophia,” Dove’s voice was eerily calm as she stepped closer to the blonde.

“I thought he was a walker! I was just trying-,” but Andrea didn’t get to say what she was trying to do. There was a shout and all of a sudden, both women were on the ground. Dove only managed to land two punches to the woman before she was wrenched away from her.

“Bitch,” Dove shouted as she was pulled back towards the house. She watched with narrowed eyes as Dale helped Andrea back to the RV.

“Holy shit,” Julian mumbled as he held the squirming woman tighter as he tried to pull her towards the porch. It was quite a task, but once it was accomplished, he sat her in a chair and hurried off into the house.

Dove’s attention finally turned from the RV as she winced. A quick look down showed her that a cold washcloth was being placed on her knuckle by Carol. “You shouldn’t have done that,” Carol mumbled.

“Yeah well, she shouldn’t have shot someone,” Dove closed her eyes and shook her head.

There were quiet footsteps as she heard Carol walk back into the house. She sat like that for a while before the door creaked open. She opened her hazel eyes and her shoulders slumped as Rick walked out. The sheriff knelt next to the chair and she felt her shoulders tense as she waited for him to reprimand her.

“I’m not here to yell at you,” Rick sighed as he ran a hand down his face, “I very well should be for the stunt you pulled. I don’t wanna have to hear about you tryin to fight like that in front of my son like that. I’m sure you understand,” Rick glanced over at her.

Dove nodded her head before she turned her gaze over to Rick. “Sorry…I just got,” she took a deep breath, “I got real angry like I haven’t in a real long time.”

Rick frowned and nodded his head, “I understand the last few days have been real hard on you and Carol, so you don’t need me to be hard on you too.” Dove sat up a little straighter and faced Rick fully. “But I just wanted you to know that Daryl’s just fine. He’s resting, we didn’t tell him that you punched Andrea.” She raised an eyebrow. “I think that’s a discussion that you should be able to have by yourself. But he did tell us where he found Sophia’s doll. Pointed it out on a map and everything so we have an even better grid to look for her,” Rick smiled and Dove felt the corner of her mouth quirk up into a smile.

“Thank you, Rick,” Dove whispered.

“Not a problem,” Rick patted her arm.

Dove moved the washcloth from her hand and flexed her knuckles, “Guess it’s best if I don’t sit next to Andrea at dinner, huh,” she joked and Rick chuckled quietly.

“I would advise you not to do that. Just in case,” he rose to his feet and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I want you to know that I’m gonna do my best to find her. I promise.”

@crossbowking @momc95 @chaotic-gary-king-stan

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #Daryl DIxon fic #daryl x oc #daryl dixon x oc #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #twd #twd fanfic #twd fanfiction #rick grime #lori grimes #carl grimes #my writing

8 notes · View notes

blazehedgehog · 3 years

Note

Sorry to ask this, but what are your thoughts on Dunky's "I'm Done Making Good Videos" with regards to content you aspire to author vs what the average joe actually searches for

I don’t know if I’m the best person to be asking this, really.

Let’s get fully inside baseball here. Let’s pull the curtain all the way back. Actually, let’s burn down the curtain. I’m going to overshare like hell right now. Get ready for the most stream-of-consciousness rambling ever, because a lot of this has been boiling in my head and dying to get out.

For the entirety of my Youtube channel, I’ve pretty much only ever done what I want to do. Very rarely do I chase trends, or do what’s hot, or even do what people want me to do. I do whatever I feel like doing.

I have paid the price for that. My Youtube channel is 15 years old as of this year, and only now am I slowly inching towards 25,000 subscribers. I am incredibly inconsistent. What’s my channel post? Well, a couple times a year, maybe I put together an edited essay/review for a game. But I also sometimes post random, unedited, uncommentated gameplay footage. Maybe it’s a fan game, maybe it’s a gameplay demo, maybe it’s Fortnite. Sometimes, I also post remastered video game music. Every Halloween, I dump a bunch of one-off horror Let’s Plays on to my channel. And then, there’s the podcast.

I know exactly what my problems are. I don’t specialize enough, and I don’t put content out fast enough. Because most Youtube channels are, like, “shows”, right. The Did You Know Gaming show. The Markiplier show. The Angry Video Game Nerd show. And you can point at those and say exactly what they are in two sentences or less.

Did You Know Gaming specializes in informative videos uncovering obscure facts you might not know about popular video games.

Markiplier is a Youtuber that does Let’s Play videos for video games, primarily horror games, but he also focuses on general comedy skits and things of that nature.

The Angry Video Game Nerd is about one guy’s over the top reactions to bad video games.

What does BlazeHedgehog do? Well, he does a lot of Sonic fan content, but sometimes he does horror let’s plays, and sometimes he does multiplayer compilation videos sort of like Criken, but he also does music, and sometimes he makes video games and puts out videos of that, and in general he’s really low energy and sometimes there will be three or four weeks between uploads. Also he sounds like Booger from Revenge of the Nerds Snot from Family Guy (apparently).

If you come to my channel for something specific, you have to put up with everything else I upload. I could start separate channels for that content, but the barrier to entry on Youtube is so massive now that I would effectively sending those channels to their death. Videos that get 200-500 views on my main channel would get 10 views or less if they were on their own self-contained alt-channel.

So I languish. I struggle. I suffer. Youtube shows me red down arrows to tell me just how much worse I’m doing now than my last flash-in-the-pan success.

I’ve tried to chase success. It just makes me sad. I have a sense of humor, but I don’t think I can make “funny videos” like some people can. My Sonic 06 glitch video did gangbusters ten years ago, but I don’t often like kicking games when they’re down. It was a struggle to make that Sonic Boom glitch montage and that’s the reason I never followed through with Part 2 like I said I would.

My only wish is that people appreciate honesty. My Youtube channel might be a scattered mess, but that’s who I am. And more than anything, I think that’s what Dunkey’s video was about. His whole joke was about switching from thoughtful or funny videos to becoming a content farm for whatever is currently popular.

I’ve brought it up a few times here and there over the last few months, but I’ve had several brushes with the Fortnite side of Youtube recently. And there are so many dudes over there who are what I would generously call “grifters.” I follow Hypex on Twitter and routinely check Firemonkey and ShiinaBR because they datamine future Fortnite updates and often have the scoop days, weeks or sometimes months in advance.

Near the end of season 3, all three of them mentioned they had datamined “the next season” but wouldn’t say what it was because they didn’t want to spoil what was coming (the marvel season). They mentioned there were “others out there” that were spoiling things, but wouldn’t say who. I wanted to spoil myself, so I turned to Youtube.

And Youtube was a nightmare. Over and over and over, I would encounter tons of people downright thriving on the same grift. It’s an open secret that Youtube prioritizes longer videos, so if your video is under ten minutes (or I think now 8 minutes), the algorithm isn’t going to be as nice to you and won’t promote your video as well, and you aren’t going to get as much advertising money because fewer people are going to sit through a video advertisement that’s a quarter of your video’s entire length. Longer videos are more profitable for Youtube, and by extension, for the user uploading them.

So it was video after video of these guys making big bold claims about how they had all the answers on what the next season of Fortnite was, and you’re thinking, “oh wow, it’s a 17 minute video, they’re going to spoil everything!”

You load the video up and it’s some guy in his streamer man cave, he’s got his webcam on, and he loads in to a match of Fortnite with his squad. Keep in mind, this video was pitched as a news report of sorts, a big spoiling of future content... and it’s just a guy playing Fortnite with a crew. In the few seconds between matches as he queues for the next one, he stops to deliver a single shred of information, most of which start with “Hypex said...”

The one thing you came to this video for and it’s scattered like breadcrumbs across a 17 minute video of a guy just playing normal matches Fortnite to fill time. It’s not information they acquired for themselves, they all just regurgitate what Hypex said, or what other channels reported Hypex saying. 17 minutes of padding for scraps of second-hand leaks. And I found dozens of these channels, all repeating the same format, all repeating the same specks of leaked information, and all of them had 150,000 to 200,000 views on each of their videos in less than 24 hours. That’s hundreds of dollars per video on a format to scam the system.

But that’s a content farm. Those dudes are vultures. I have a hard time believing their hearts are really in it. I know it’s not a term that’s really in vogue anymore, but I see that as “selling out.” They know what they are doing and it’s to make money, not to make a community better. I mean, one of those videos was a guy who was reading Marvel comic hero profiles off of Wikipedia because it sounded like he literally did not know who guys like Iron Man, Thor and Wolverine even were. How are you in touch enough with pop culture that you’re cranking out factory-fresh Fortnite content for Youtube but you don’t know who Thor is? Answer: because you don’t really care and you’re in it for the money. Gotta hit that 15 minute threshold and put in six mid-roll ad breaks.

I could be that guy. That’s kind of what I was hoping “This Kinda Sucks” would turn in to, which would be sort of a rant video series like The Jimquisition or something. But I did not have the interest or energy to keep that up. So you get a playlist with two videos on it.

I’m sure Dunkey was just funnin’ around. Dude has 6 million subscribers. But for me, like... what he said in the video is mostly true. Following your heart and making thoughtful content you are personally interested in won’t pay the bills. I mean, as I predicted, that Jurassic Park video launched to the sound of crickets chirping. My most hardcore fans and a few curious onlookers checked it out but that was it. I’ve been working on that video since August, and it’s something my viewer base did not care about. But I cared about it, and that’s important for the long-run, I think.

The other problem, sort of a disconnect, is that I’m lucky to be in the position I’m in. I think guys like Dunkey probably make all of their money from places like Youtube and Twitch and Patreon and that’s their career. That work pays all of their bills.

My work does not pay my bills. Or it does, but it’s not enough to pay all of my bills. I am lucky enough right now that I am in a living situation where I can make fractions of money in intermittent spurts. That won’t always be the case. But for now, I get to be honest, and I get to follow my heart in whatever random, chaotic direction it feels like going that particular day. Dunkey faces a different sort of pressure than I do.

All of this is to say I have no idea what I’m doing, I guess. I make the content I want to see.

That being said, I increasingly think about something I heard Woolie say early on when he went solo for his WoolieVS channel, and that was the idea of “One for you, one for me, one for us.”

Because I’ve had more than one friend burn out doing, like, Twitch streams and stuff. You hear about Youtubers who get sick of being shackled to new releases or whatever’s popular. At some point these people wake up and realize they’ve had this struggle, maybe made some money in the process, but they’re miserable because they don’t get to do what they want to do. They’re always being pushed forward by the fans that are behind them.

The “One for you, one for me, one for us” mantra does at least keep you a little more sane. Balance in all things, right? So that Jurassic Park video, it can flop. It’d be nice if it didn’t flop, given what time of the year it is, but it’s a video for me. I have other video ideas in the chamber that I know will be for my audience, or “for us.”

I just have to stay true to myself, and to my messy brain.

#questions #dunkey #youtube #inside baseball #behind the curtain #long posts #spilling my guts #Anonymous

14 notes · View notes

the-kiwi-is-not-a-pewee · 4 years

Text

Emmy.

This is a callout post about discord user emmy, known for now as @eurydices-flower on tumblr, and her nasty behavior regarding her joining and then leaving a specific Riordanverse fan discord server. I don’t usually make callout posts but this needs to be addressed since she has vagueposted about my friends and been rude to them over DMs. I don’t believe she should be allowed to run around and make accusations, especially with people not able to find part of the story due to it being over private messages. So, with the permission of the friend whom she sent DMs to, I will outline her brief stay in the server and the aftermath.

It’s time you heard our side of the story.

Emmy (which is how I will be referring to her for the duration of this post), joined the Trials of Apollo (ToA) server on July 6th, 2020.

For the sake of chronicling how we know that she is also @eurydices-flower on tumblr, she says as much in her self-introduction in the #introduction channel of the server.

Emmy was in the server for less than 24 hours, before leaving voluntarily with seemingly no explanation. Naturally, we were confused and one of our own reached out to emmy on her tumblr blog to ask why she left. I blacked out the profile picture and url of my friend’s blog for the sake of their own privacy.

Let us go over this, piece by piece.

“yeah i’m alright i just realized constant negativity wasn’t rlly my game at the moment and i don’t necessarily have the headspace to ever deal with that.”

That is fair, she is encouraged to look after herself and her own mental state first. If she felt like leaving was the best course of action to take for the sake of herself, then she should not be judged for that. And it’d be perfectly fine if she left it at that! But, of course, I wouldn’t be making this post if she did.

“everyone’s entitled to be everyones own opinion but to bash other people you don’t even know for having opinions was too much for me to handle. a lot of those blogs are good friends of mine and it truly is disrespectful to harp on anyone for having different opinions but go around and spread negativity when others don’t agree with with that opinion.”

Regarding the first part, “everyone’s entitled to be everyones own opinion but to bash other people you don’t even know for having opinions was too much for me to handle”, there’s nothing wrong with this statement as it is on the surface-level. She is expressing that she personally does not want to partake in that particular kind of discourse. That is fine, she is not obligated to in any way, shape, or form. Though I do have a comment or three about the statement before we move on.

She could have muted the specific channel where that kind of discourse was taking place, which as far as I’m aware she never did. The ToA server has 2 specific channels for pjo discourse because members were uncomfortable with it being spread sporadically throughout the server, thus those two channels were made to contain discourse. If she was truly made uncomfortable by what she stated, she could have rectified that problem herself instead of leaving. But, after all, it was her choice to make in the end.

“but to bash other people you don’t even know for having opinions was too much for me to handle”Uh, welcome to tumblr Emmy? I don’t know if Emmy meticulously vets her tumblr experience so that she literally never encounters people bashing other people they don’t even know for their opinions, but it makes it a rather ironic statement considering tumblr’s reputation and that she has a tumblr blog. Heck, it’s not even unique to tumblr, it’s more of a social media thing. I can only postulate that maybe it made her more uncomfortable in a more confined and private space like a discord server, but I cannot be sure. Given she joined at the height of the Ace! Reyna discourse and the “opinions” she’s referring to are likely the aphobic rhetoric spouted by people who were astonishingly upset that Reyna was not a lesbian, I personally am rather uncomfortable that she dumbed it down as if it were merely “having an opinion” and not an attempt to invalidate ace representation in a mainstream media book series just because they were upset that they hadn’t gotten exactly what they wanted.

She retrospectively made herself a hypocrite. I’ll put a pin in this for now and we’ll come back to it.

“A lot of those blogs are good friends of mine and it truly is disrespectful to harp on anyone for having different opinions but go around and spread negativity when others don’t agree with that opinion.”

There’s quite a bit to unpack here just in this one sentence. First of all, no one in the server knew she was acquainted with any of the blogs we were discoursing about. She never stated such at any point prior to this point. We didn’t know, and thus we could not even consider accommodating her before she left in this regard.

I’ve already expressed my own views on her dumbing down people spouting aphobic rhetoric to them merely having “different opinions”, but the server was not “spreading negativity” unless you define “negativity” as calling out people for their aphobic rhetoric and frankly disrespectful treatment of Reyna as a character as a whole. It’s not as beautiful and simple as “others don’t agree with that opinion” when said opinion promotes aphobia and tries to claim that lesbian Reyna somehow cannot peacefully coexist with asexual Reyna.

“I mean no disrespect to anyone in that server when saying that or this but i just truly hope you all emotionally grow as people one day and learn to be more respectful <3 <3”

This… whole line has the basic energy of “No offense but *proceeds to say something offensive*”. Emmy basically went, “I mean no disrespect but *proceeds to say something disrespectful*”. It’s especially rude that she told us that she hopes we “all emotionally grow as people one day and learn to be more respectful <3 <3” when she was the one that came into the server in the first place. Furthermore none of us owe our respect to the people that got so mad over a fictional character not being exactly what they wanted that they have to belittle and attempt to downplay ace representation. It’s not Emmy’s place to tell us to “emotionally grow” and “learn to be more respectful”, especially when in the aftermath she doesn’t put her money where her mouth is.

“Blacked out user: Ah I see. If I may ask, what differing opinion were you being bashed for?

Emmy: not me personally but to see the rr crit circus chat (Note: one of the discourse channels) filled with other people doing it to people not even IN the chat was what bugged me”

Has emmy never been in a discord server with a discourse channel? This is a legitimate question, because this is not behavior unique to the ToA server. All of the servers I’ve seen with channels specifically for discourse have done this. This isn’t some kind of uniquely shitty thing that the ToA server does that we should be morally ashamed of, especially when something similar goes on with people on tumblr posting screenshots of tweets.

“but also when i entered and said i didn’t have opinions on litpollo or medea and i was immediately kinda made fun of for it didn’t make me feel good, as well as saying i was ace and ppl going “oMG the LESBOPhObIa. again i hope y’all just grow emotionally and mentally <3”

Here’s what happened (different colored bars mean different users):

Now, despite the fact that the “r u human” in response to Emmy saying she doesn’t ship litpollo and the “i bet u r not ace u r just LESBWEEN CODED” are jokes, I do understand why those statements made Emmy uncomfortable. Emmy was a newcomer and not acclimated to the sense of humor of the server and to basically shove her the butt end of it was not fair to her. The latter joke especially would be difficult to swallow if Emmy didn’t know that an inside joke of the server at the time was mocking the people who insisted that making Reyna ace was a lesophobic act on Rick’s part despite Trials of Apollo as a series having three lesbian major characters (Emmie, Jo, and Lavinia).

In simple terms, I agree with my friend’s reply and the apology they gave on the server’s behalf. Emmy did deserve that apology. Doesn’t make the “i hope y’all just grow emotionally and mentally <3” any less rude or unwarranted though.

As far as any of us were aware, this was the end of it. Emmy was a bit rude but we had our closure and as far as any of us knew the ToA server and Emmy had parted ways. And then this happened.

This post has since been deleted by Emmy herself, but before it disappeared it was archived by myself and other friends reblogging to respond to it.

It doesn’t name myself or any of my friends directly, but since we were quite vocal about calling people out for their aphobia when Reyna was revealed to be ace, it is assumed we were the target of the post or are at least part of the group that is the target for the post. If it is indeed the former it seems Emmy is vagueposting about us. Even if it’s not specifically about us, it’s not a good look for Emmy. Let’s parse this apart.

“funny how the people yelling aphobia when it came to Reyna were dead silent today when Rick went on twitter and was blatantly racist and disrespectful”

There’s several reasons why people weren’t addressing Rick’s tweets that day. Some of us don’t use twitter/don’t follow Rick on twitter. Some of us don’t check the #rickriordan tag or other tags like it. Some of us have other main fandoms that are not pjo. Some of us don’t follow blogs that reblogged the tweets and the responses to the tweets, or hadn’t reblogged them yet. Some of us might want to first watch the responses to the tweets because we are not Cherokee, Muslim, or educated enough about those topics beforehand and not dig ourselves into a hole. Just saying, just because we didn’t give an immediate response doesn’t mean we didn’t care.

“funny how they only care about representation when it applies to them and them alone”

Does Emmy know that plenty of non-ace people were defending ace Reyna? If she wants an example, I’m a bisexual woman and I’ve been vocal in my defense of ace Reyna. So her logic that “they only cared when the rep applied to them and them alone” falls apart.

“funny how they only cared Reyna was ace because it gave them the opportunity to harrass the lesbians who were hurting”

I don’t condone harassment but calling them out for their aphobic behavior was not harassment. They couldn’t express their hurt without belittling asexual representation and lacking so much self-awareness that they couldn’t realize how aphobic they were being. I’m sorry that they don’t have my respect for that- actually, you know what, I’m not sorry for it. They literally chained themselves to the concept of Lesbian Reyna and would not accept anything else, that’s their own fault. Just because you’re hurt doesn’t give you the excuse to be an asshole to other LGBTQ+ people that did get representation.

"it’s almost,,, almost like you don’t actually care about these characters or color! that you just want the opportunity to clown and be bullies and abusive”

This is a very rich statement considering those “hurting lesbians” she referred to didn’t care about Reyna as a character. They only cared about Lesbian Reyna and nothing else. Some of them mixed up ace and aro showing stunning ignorance on the difference between asexuality and aromance. And now they’re playing victim because they got called out.

“if you want marginalized groups like asexuals to be represented, where’s your energy for pipers representation and characterization? samirah? where’d it go?”

Heroes of Olympus has been out for years. There have already been posts on tumblr before detailing the flaws in how Rick wrote Samirah and Piper, it’s not a new phenomenon. It just had a resurgence recently. Heroes of Olympus is old news so it’s not as fresh and hot as it was when it first came out so of course while discussions over the representation in it are still going on it has mostly calmed down until recently.

“i see you. i’m watching you. you said nothing. not a single word. not even a messy reblog of one (1) post about piper or sam. dead. Silence.”

Emmy gets a little creepy here and slightly stalkery. She doesn’t like us yet she’s watching our blogs? I guess the Blog Police is here. If you don’t reblog discourse posts about how Samirah and Piper were represented you’ll be arrested and pegged as a racist.

No one is obligated to reblog posts about Samirah and Piper. It’s not reflective of their feelings towards Piper and Sam. it’s THEIR blog and they are not obligated to reblog what others want them to. I hate to break it to Emmy but she can’t force people to reblog the stuff she wants to see.

“i don’t care if you think you ‘shouldn’t have a voice in this’ bc ur white or smth. there’s a difference between spreading posts about this terrible situation and trying to butt in with ‘i’m white but here’s my opinion’“

And here we finally circle back to the retroactive hypocrite point I put a pin in earlier. Here’s a refresher: “everyone’s entitled to be everyones own opinion but to bash other people you don’t even know for having opinions was too much for me to handle. a lot of those blogs are good friends of mine and it truly is disrespectful to harp on anyone for having different opinions but go around and spread negativity when others don’t agree with with that opinion.”

And yet she bashes people she doesn’t know and spreads negativity for… possibly having a different opinion than the ones going around right now or not interacting with it for their own personal reasons. Also not everyone who didn’t immediately jump on the Samirah/Piper rep analysis reblogs were white. Assuming people are white will eventually bite you on the ass.

After that post, she continued vagueposting on her own blog.

I seriously doubt she was sent an anonymous death threat because a friend of mine checked her account earlier that same morning she made that post and the Anon feature was turned off. Then, in the evening, she posted about having an Anonymous death threat sent to her without any proof. I’m not saying it’s not possible nor do I condone death threats, but I do have reason to disbelieve her.

IF she is still referring to her brief stay in the ToA server as that “scenario”, then she neglects to say that she did not tell anyone that she was uncomfortable until after she left. We are not mindreaders, we cannot tell when every single person we talk to is uncomfortable. So it can at least partially be held against you, Emmy, for a failure to communicate with us.

And finally, the straw that broke the camel’s back for me.

This DM was sent to a friend of mine, the same friend that reached out to Emmy following her departure from the ToA server. I can only assume that the post she is referring to is the one I covered earlier, prior to the “anon death threat” post. Let’s parse through this again.

“hi love! i noticed you unfollowed me around the time i made my post calling you and other’s silence on piper and samirahs blatant mistreatment today.”

Wow, you know what, scratch what I said earlier about assuming that the post was directed at me and my friends, Emmy basically confirmed it from her own mouth. Nice to get the ambiguity out of the way right off the bat. Also she’s seriously DMing my friend just because they unfollowed her? And assuming it was because of the post? She can’t definitively connect the two dots but if that was indeed the reason my friend unfollowed her I certainly can’t blame them. Especially given that this was Emmy’s response.

“i hope you realize you’re blatantly racist and just all around a terrible person for harping on the wlw community for being upset about their bad representationk because you had ace representation but don’t use the same energy for the people hurting that they don’t have native or muslim representation.”

It’s spelled “representation”, Emmy. Also the pjo wlw community was upset that REYNA was NOT a LESBIAN, not that they had bad representation. That was their whole salt. As a wlw myself, being upset about bad representation doesn’t give you an excuse to put down ace representation which a lot of them were doing. They have THREE lesbian characters in Rick’s books so far.

Also I thought the issue Emmy took with us was that we weren’t reblogging posts breaking down Rick’s tweets or pointing out the flaws in Samirah and Piper’s portrayal in the books. And now she’s talking about posting about people hurting because they don’t have Native American or Muslim representation? Which is it Emmy, you are sending mixed signals.

“i hope you educate yourself and realize you and the entire community that kept their silence are truly acting terrible right now. thank you.”

This is… extremely rich coming from the asexual who implied she has aphobic friends. I hope she educates her friends and realizes her and the entire community who bashed the choice to make Reyna asexual are truly acting terrible right now. Though given how she put the wlw on a pedestal and turned a blind eye to how aphobic they were acting I don’t have hope. The hypocrisy when she says that my friend is “truly acting terrible right now” when my friend dared to just unfollow her.

And that is how I will close this. She is still posting about the server on her own blog but that is everything major that has happened so far. On behalf of my friend, don’t harass emmy or send her death threats. I may not respect her, but I certainly don’t condone harassment or death threats.

She is only 15, according to her own blog, but it does not excuse her behavior towards my friends. Being a minor doesn’t exclude you from being a shitty person.

#pjo #percy jackson #rick riordan #rickriordan #discourse #emmy discourse #callout

37 notes · View notes

femmereddie · 4 years

Text

strong as the steel we carry (we rise like the sun) [6/6]

pairing: adora/catra fandom: she-ra and the princesses of power rating: general summary: A collection of drabbles from canon moments over the course of She-Ra, Catra/Adora related. This post contains all my drabbles from 5x11 through 5x13. read on ao3

S05E11 Failsafe

Adora felt terrible when she saw Catra curled on her side on the mattress. She looked small and vulnerable, like something drained all the strength she had. Adora walked over to Catra, determined to bring her to Mystacor. She wanted to ensure that Catra felt valued and wanted because she was. Adora had no idea what she would have done if Catra wasn’t by her side this entire time. Making Catra feel loved and secure gave Adora a renewed energy, energy that she channeled to fight Horde Prime. “Catra, are you coming with us to Mystacor?”

“Why would I do that? Seems like you and Shadow Weaver have it handled,” Catra sighed. “After everything she’s done to us, you’re really going to follow her?”

Adora’s heart broke at the betrayal in Catra’s voice. The last thing she wanted was for Catra to think she wanted Shadow Weaver around. “I don’t like it either, but this is the only plan we have; the failsafe could finally save Etheria.”

Catra turned on her other side, away from Adora.

Catra’s action stung, but Adora would not leave her behind just because of Shadow Weaver. Adora would never forgive their former abuser for what she did to both Catra and herself. Adora promised she would not let anyone hurt Catra again, including Shadow Weaver, of all people. Nothing would stop Adora from protecting Catra against Shadow Weaver. “Shadow Weaver hurt us; I haven’t forgotten that. But Prime is hurting so many more people. I need to stop him, Catra.”

“I know, I know. You have to go save the world, spare me the speech.”

“Hey, she can’t do anything to us anymore. Please come. We…” Adora took a deep breath and put her hand on Catra’s shoulder. Catra needed to know how important she was to Adora, and frankly, Adora wouldn’t mind reminding her every day for the rest of their lives. “I could really use your help.”

“Fine. I’m only doing this to make sure Shadow Weaver doesn’t try anything. Not because I like you,” Catra said, grinning.

Although Catra was still looking the other way, Adora smiled back. She knew Catra was just joking, and it made her heart swell. They had a long way to go to defeat Prime, but Adora was happy to see that Catra was slowly overcoming past trauma. She wanted to help her friend in any way she could.

Suddenly, Melog jumped on Adora, making her squeal in surprise. Melog purred in response, while Catra looked stared. Catra was so in love with her best friend that she would chastise herself if she knew of the sappy smile she wore on her face. However, as usual, Catra lost all concept of time and space whenever Adora's ethereal presence mesmerized her.

* * *

“Don’t touch me!” Catra shouted, jumping away from Shadow Weaver.

Catra didn’t mean to cause a scene, but the second Shadow Weaver laid a hand on her, she freaked out. Catra wouldn’t admit it to anyone, except maybe for Adora (although Catra was sure that Adora knew already), but Shadow Weaver still scared her. Her former abuser grabbed her out of nowhere. How could she not react?

Unfortunately, Melog growled at Shadow Weaver, instinctively going into protection mode, releasing the invisible shield they held on the group.

Once they became visible, Adora gasped, noticing a chipped sorceress at the center of the room. Catra and Melog dived out of the way just in time, but it was enough to trigger Adora’s fight or flight instinct. She didn’t even know if she had that instinct until she began having trouble transforming into She-Ra. Hopefully, this time, she wouldn't.

“For the honor of Grayskull!”

But other than a brief flickering of a sword, nothing happened. Adora gasped again, realizing that she had to choose flight. The sorceress spun a magic spell and aimed at Adora, forcing her to jump behind the pillar that Catra and Melog hid behind.

The group moved quickly after that, but it did not stop Adora from feeling like she failed to protect Catra, and it did not stop Catra from shivering because of how Shadow Weaver’s cold hands felt on her skin.

* * *

The strike team followed Shadow Weaver and Castaspella into a secret hallway, where the tunnels of Mystacor were hidden.

Catra crossed her arms and walked, attempting to fight insecurities that Shadow Weaver sprung into her mind.

Adora noticed Catra’s jitteriness and how she distanced herself from everyone else. Adora was still upset that she couldn’t protect Catra, but it wasn’t just about the sorceress. Adora wished she could protect Catra from dark memories, the trauma inflicted on Catra by Shadow Weaver. “Hey, are you…” Adora began, reaching out for Catra.

As soon as Adora touched her shoulder, Catra instinctively recoiled, thinking it was Shadow Weaver. She was a little queasy being near anyone at the moment, but Adora was always an exception. However, Catra didn’t want to burden Adora with her baggage, so before Adora even finished her question, Catra looked away and curtly said, “I’m fine.”

Adora gently placed her hands on Catra’s shoulders and smiled. With her inability to transform into She-Ra, and Shadow Weaver lurking about, the only thing Adora could do was comfort her friend. “Catra, it’ll be okay. Trust me.”

Catra didn’t say anything, but her eyes filled with hope. She wanted to trust Adora—in fact, she did. The two of them have come a long way over the last three years. But no matter how hard Adora tried, she couldn’t comfort Catra’s trauma away.

But Catra was appreciative of Adora’s effort. She was about to respond, but Shadow Weaver unpleasantly interrupted their moment. “There’s no time to waste. News of our presence will have reached the others by now after that… disturbance,” Shadow Weaver said, looking pointedly at Catra.

Catra glared, but she held her ground. She would not appear weak in front of the person who tormented her for years, no matter how scared she was inside. Hopefully, Shadow Weaver couldn’t hear her heartbeat’s rapid pace.

Adora did not want Shadow Weaver to start trouble, especially since she always tried to push people’s buttons. Adora stepped in front of Catra and firmly said, “Come on, we have to keep moving.”

Adora walked ahead, so she missed Shadow Weaver and Catra glancing at each other, but it was anything but amicable. After a moment, Shadow Weaver walked away, and Catra’s heart rate finally slowed down, despite the fury that still brewed inside of her. However, there was nothing else she could do, so Catra followed the group. As always, she remained on guard for herself and her heart.

* * *

The group finally descended into Mystacor’s tunnels.

Adora led the pack. She wanted to reach the failsafe and get out of there without any more trouble. She stepped forward just as Shadow Weaver cried, “Wait!”

However, as soon as Adora put her foot down, a circle of flames illuminated around her.

“Adora!” Catra cried, jumping into the fire without thinking. If a past version of Catra saw her desperation when she hurled herself into the flames, past Catra would be horrified. Her present self acted rashly and without thinking, and most importantly, without any plan. It was so unlike her.

However, past Catra had not endured everything that her present self had. Catra was running on so many stakes, and she had been for a long time now. Thinking was hardly an option, mostly if Adora’s life was on the line, and the stakes just kept rising. The longer Horde Prime went undefeated, the more Catra didn’t think they would beat him, and Catra’s priority was Adora’s safety. Nobody else (except for Bow and Glimmer) would look out for Adora, not even Adora herself. The prospect of Adora dying from some dumb fire was not an option. Catra had to get her back.

Catra successfully pulled Adora out of the fire, and they tumbled onto the ground on top of each other.

“I’m okay. I’m okay!” Adora insisted.

Catra unknowingly gazed down at Adora. So what if everyone else stared? Okay, it was a big deal if people looked, but Catra thought Adora would die. Was it so awful to give herself a few moments to revel in the love of her life’s existence?

Adora didn’t move from underneath Catra. Instead, she smirked. “Did you just jump into fire for me?”

Okay, the moment was officially over. Adora was alive, and there was no reason for Catra to lay on top of her, especially since everyone was watching. “What? No! Shut up!” She said, pushing Adora away.

But Adora couldn’t stop laughing. In fact, she snorted. “You did.”

God, Catra was so in love.

* * *

“I see you and Catra are close again.”

Adora glanced sideways at Shadow Weaver, who lingered behind everyone else, waiting for Adora to catch up. Instead of responding, Adora chose to keep walking.

“Do you really think that’s wise?”

Adora stopped and turned to Shadow Weaver. How dare she try and tell Adora what to do about Catra? This woman already did enough damage to both of them, and she always made things worse by involving herself. This time, Adora was going to make sure Shadow Weaver stayed out of her personal life. “It’s none of your business.”

“But it is,” Shadow Weaver said, approaching Adora. “If your emotions are blocking you from becoming She-Ra, it’s all of Etheria’s business.”

Adora’s eyes widened. She hadn’t realized how selfish she might have become now that she was also focused on Catra. Adora loved Catra with all her heart, more than anyone in the world, but Etheria needed She-Ra to defeat Horde Prime, even if Catra needed Adora more.

“How long has it been since you were able to transform?” Shadow Weaver asked.

Adora sighed and looked down in defeat. “It’s been happening ever since the Fright Zone.” She felt her body shake as tears welled in her eyes. “What if… what if I’m losing her?”

Shadow Weaver covered Adora’s hands with her own. “She-Ra is a being of pure magic. To unleash her full strength, you must be focused, clearheaded. But you are letting your emotions pull you in too many directions; Catra, she… distracts you, confuses you. Haven’t you hurt each other enough?”

Adora gasped. It never occurred to her that she could hurt Catra by being powerless. Adora thought of earlier when she was forced to duck behind a pillar because she couldn’t transform into She-Ra. She felt useless without her magic, but more importantly, Adora felt like a failure because she couldn’t protect Catra.

“If you care about her, focus on protecting her; the world needs you as She-Ra right now, not Adora. And if She-Ra can’t stop Prime… then we are all doomed.”

Adora angrily pulled away from Shadow Weaver’s grasp. She hadn’t realized that she allowed Shadow Weaver to manipulate her once again, and at Catra’s expense. Adora had to be more careful; otherwise, she might hurt the person she loved most. “I will stop Prime. No matter what.”

Adora was relieved she recognized Shadow Weaver’s manipulation before things got out of hand. She could only imagine what would happen if Shadow Weaver’s words infiltrated her head. They might have destroyed Adora and Catra’s relationship for good. Thankfully, that didn’t happen.

Unfortunately, Adora did not know that someone was eavesdropping just around the corner and that someone happened to be Catra.

* * *

To say that Catra’s emotions were running high was the understatement of the century.

After overhearing Shadow Weaver and Adora’s conversation minutes earlier, she had no idea what to think. Nothing Adora said surprised Catra—Adora’s priority would always be saving Etheria, even if the price was Adora’s happiness.

But at the same time, a glimmer of hope sparkled inside Catra. She didn’t want to think stupidly, but she heard Adora stand up to Shadow Weaver. Adora wasn’t interested in following Shadow Weaver’s advice. Maybe, just maybe, Adora loved Catra enough (even if it was platonically) to choose her over Etheria. Still, Catra shivered, thinking of Adora listening to Shadow Weaver. Of Adora deciding that Catra wasn’t worth it. The insecurities that stirred inside Catra didn’t make her confident that Adora would choose her, either.

“Someone needs to go inside and… accept the Failsafe? What does that mean?”

“It means the failsafe must be bonded to a willing soul and carried to the Heart of Etheria in their body to be deployed.” Shadow Weaver’s words sent chills down Catra’s spine. Something about that didn’t seem right. Shadow Weaver made the task sound simple despite the considerable risk, and Catra was sure there was more to the story.

“And we’re sure that’s… safe?” Bow asked skeptically.

“We can’t turn back now; the Failsafe is within our grasp!”

Catra was horrified to see Adora mindlessly approach the Failsafe. Of course, Adora didn’t think about the consequences of the situation, but Catra did. There was something off about Shadow Weaver’s desperation, and it made Catra’s stomach curdle.

After a split-second decision, Catra lunged toward Adora, grabbing her arm. “Adora, don’t go in there.”

“Catra, this is not the time; someone must take the Failsafe.”

“So, you do it then.” Catra’s suspicions about Shadow Weaver lying only grew with the deafening silence. “I’ve been watching you the whole way in,” Catra began, pulling Adora away from the Failsafe. “You’ve been in here before, haven’t you? You could’ve taken the Failsafe yourself and gotten all of the power you’ve ever wanted. But you didn’t. Why?”

“You’re being paranoid. This is the only way to stop Prime; Adora understands that well enough.”

Catra blocked Shadow Weaver from approaching Adora. There was no way she would let Shadow Weaver anywhere near Adora until Catra learned the truth, even if that meant Shadow Weaver would attack her. “Why does it have to be Adora? What is going to happen to her? What aren’t you telling us?”

Shadow Weaver backed away without answering. The longer Shadow Weaver remained silent, the more nervous Catra became. If it weren’t bad, then Shadow Weaver would have no problem coming clean. However, now her cover was blown, and she was still trying to conceal it. Whatever Shadow Weaver was hiding was not good at all.

“Answer the question,” Castaspella demanded, while Melog growled.

“Whoever uses the Failsafe must absorb the full magic of the Heart when it is destroyed. That much raw magical power would burn any mere mortal apart. None of us are strong enough.”

“But She-Ra is.”

Catra turned when Adora uttered those words. Catra wouldn’t let Shadow Weaver manipulate Adora into doing this. The Failsafe could still burn She-Ra, and Catra was unwilling to risk Adora’s life, even if it cost Etheria.

“Only She-Ra can hope to survive the process; no one else can do it.”

“And if I don’t survive it?”

“Then the magic will be restored to Etheria through your sacrifice. You will give us the power to bring us to victory. Prime will be defeated; your friends will be free.”

Catra was sickened by the way Shadow Weaver held Adora’s face. It was another manipulative tactic, but Catra would not let Shadow Weaver win. She would not allow Adora to sacrifice herself for Shadow Weaver; it wasn’t an option. Catra gasped as she watched Adora seriously contemplate this garbage.

All at once, everyone began shouting, their arguments becoming static noise in Adora’s head. She couldn’t think clearly when everyone attacked each other, but she had a feeling that it didn’t matter, anyway. She knew what she was going to do the minute Shadow Weaver revealed the truth. “Stop it!” Adora screamed, effectively silencing everyone. She turned to her friends. “I’ll do it.”

Adora’s impending decision weighed heavily on Catra’s heart as she realized the consequences of whatever her friend decided. If Catra convinced Adora to turn away from the Failsafe, Adora valued her own life and happiness just as much as she valued saving Etheria. But if she didn’t, then Catra knew Adora would never choose Catra over sacrificing herself, even if she loved her. Catra wasn’t sure what was worse: Adora not loving her back, or Adora loving her but not enough to live.

“No! What? What’s wrong with you?!” Catra ran to Adora, desperately pulling on her lapels once she was close enough. “Shadow Weaver is sacrificing you, why can’t you see that?!”

“Because even if she is, it’s better than Prime getting the Heart and destroying the universe! We’re out of options. This is the only way.”

Catra trembled at Adora’s words, but her friend steadied her. She always had, Catra thought bittersweetly. Adora was always a calming, peaceful presence in whatever chaos that surrounded me. My life is meaningless without her.

Just then, Micah and a few sorcerers burst into the room and attacked the group. Micah aimed at Adora, and Catra helplessly watched as Adora threw her out of harm’s way just as Micah trapped Adora in magical rope.

“Adora!” Catra cried as she raced on Melog’s back, desperate to free her friend. Soon enough, both Catra and Melog were swept into battle.

Adora watched her friends fight the sorcerers, crying out in horror as Glimmer’s father attacked his own daughter. She didn’t believe she could transform into She-Ra, but she had to try. “For the honor of Grayskull!” Adora cried to no avail. “No,” she whispered to herself.

“We have to get out of here!” Bow shouted.

“The Failsafe! We can’t!” Shadow Weaver cried desperately.

Adora had moments to decide what to do, but she had already made her choice. She turned back and headed to the Failsafe.

Catra was busy fighting, but she saw Adora approach the Failsafe from the corner of her eye. “Adora, no! Please, it doesn’t always have to be you.”

Adora looked at Catra one more time, silently communicating her goodbyes. Once she had the Failsafe, Adora would seal her destiny, effectively erasing any chance of a future with Catra. Then, she ran toward the Failsafe before she changed her mind.

“Adora!” Catra wailed, attempting to run after her. However, a sorcerer zapped her back, causing Catra to fall. She was too late.

Adora screamed in agony as she absorbed the Failsafe. She looked toward her friends, horrified to see that Micah tethered them to the ground with dark magic. Now, Adora was far past anger. She wouldn’t let anyone under Prime hurt her friends anymore.

“For the honor of Grayskull.”

For the first time in a while, Adora transformed into She-Ra. She immediately freed her friends from Micah’s magic and used her own to trap him and the other sorcerers. Then, she ran toward Catra. “I’ve got it, I’ve got the failsafe, let’s get out of here.”

Catra stared at the magical object in Adora’s chest with tears in her eyes. She felt hurt, betrayed, and angry. What was the point of jumping through fire for Adora if she would kill herself anyway? She would never do the same for Catra, but she would sacrifice herself for Etheria without a second thought. Catra should have known better, but Adora’s choice was the final straw. She couldn’t hang around and watch the love of her life die.

So, Catra ran out of the room with Melog by her side, attempting to distance herself from Adora as much as she could.

* * *

Later that evening, everyone had succumbed to sleep from the exhausting day they had. Well, almost everyone.

Catra sat on a box next to her mattress as she watched Adora sleep, the Failsafe plugged into her chest. God, Catra hated looking at that thing. It was a cruel reminder that Adora would never choose her in any scenario, no matter what happened.

Catra hopped off the box and grabbed the backpack she prepared earlier. Then, she left without hesitating or looking back. She paused for a moment when she heard Melog’s cries, but Catra knew she couldn’t stay. It hurt too much, knowing that she would never be enough for Adora. It would hurt for the rest of her life, but maybe the pain would numb if she was hundreds of miles away from Adora.

Moments later, Adora woke up. Instinctively, she looked over at Catra’s mattress, but it was empty. Adora didn’t see Catra or Melog. “Catra,” she gasped, frantic with worry.

Outside of The Rebellion’s hideout, Catra walked with a purpose. Melog hadn’t stopped meowing, but Catra ignored them. She was determined to travel as far away as possible.

Unfortunately, Catra didn’t make it far enough before Adora called her. “Catra?”

Catra broke into a sprint, figuring it would be easier to run than face her feelings head-on. Melog followed.

“Catra, stop!” Adora shouted, going after her.

Catra realized that Adora would catch up, so she jumped onto a tree branch. Unfortunately, Adora caught up by then, and she pulled Catra to the ground.

Catra tried crawling away, but Adora latched onto her leg and dragged Catra underneath her. “You were just gonna leave?!”

“I’m doing you a favor,” Catra said, pushing Adora off. “I’m a distraction, right? Now, you can go save the world without having to worry about me confusing you.”

Adora’s heart broke as she realized Catra overheard her conversation with Shadow Weaver. “No, that’s not true! Don’t listen to Shadow Weaver; this isn’t about her!”

Catra finally managed to shove Adora hard enough, causing her to go flying. She knew Adora already made her decision, but naively, Catra thought if she put herself out there as an option, Adora might change her mind. “Why? Why are you like this? Why do you always have to sacrifice everything for everyone else? When do you get to choose? What do you want, Adora?”

Catra’s question completely surprised Adora. No one had ever asked her that before. Although deep down, she knew the answer, she didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t say anything because she had to save Etheria. Adora had to think of the greater good here. Besides, she was most likely going to die because of the Failsafe. “I… I have to do this, Catra. I’m the only one who can.”

Catra’s heart tore into a thousand pieces. She already knew Adora’s answer, but it still brought her pain she only dreamed about beforehand. Catra never wanted to feel like that again, and the best way to avoid that pain was to leave. Catra wiped her tears and looked away. “Then do it. That’s what you want; that’s what you’ll always choose. I don’t have to stay and watch it happen.”

“Catra, please, stay. I need you.”

Catra saw Adora begging on her knees out of the corner of her eye, but she felt so dead inside that she couldn’t care less. She had to protect her own heart at some point, and Adora seemed desperate enough to say anything at the moment. Adora was just fine these last few years without Catra, and Adora’s life wouldn’t change no matter what Catra decided. “No, you don’t. You never have.”

Then, Melog shielded Catra with an invisibility cloak, leaving Adora to stare at an empty Whispering Woods.

Adora knew Catra was already gone, but she cried out for her one last time. She knew Catra wasn’t coming back, but Adora had to grieve for her lost love.

The love that could have been in another life. Maybe if Adora hadn’t left the Horde, they could be ruling Etheria side by side. Maybe if Adora was never She-Ra. Or maybe if Adora refused the Failsafe, letting herself be selfish for once in her life.

Adora thought about the possibilities, alternate universes where she was happy with Catra. She wondered what they were like. Did they live in Bright Moon’s palace? Were they on their own, moving every few days as wanderers with nothing but a few scraps of food and each other? Or maybe they were in each other’s arms as Etheria crumbled into pieces. They would be smithereens in seconds, but it didn’t matter because they would die together. Together, like it should have always been.

However, pondering on these scenarios was useless. Adora could think and dream all she wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that none of it would ever happen, because, in this life, Adora and Catra weren’t together. In this life, they were more alone than either of them ever was before. And in this life, despite growing up together, Adora didn’t have enough time to memorize Catra’s face before she left. Adora thought that there could never be enough time in the world for that.

So, Adora and Catra prepared themselves to spend the rest of their lives wondering about their great love. A love that could have reached the stars, conquered universes, and ignited magic, if given a chance to bloom. But like a neglected flower, their love wilted and withered to dust.

—

S05E12 Heart Part 1

Catra sat on Melog’s back as they sprinted through the Whispering Woods, running further away from The Rebellion’s hideout. Further away from Adora.

She pondered on the last conversation she had with Adora. Catra was as straightforward as she could be, and it hurt more than any pain Prime could inflict when Adora let her down. Adora was so busy sacrificing herself that she never even thought about what she wanted. And based on her final answer, Catra knew she would never be enough. Catra would not spend the rest of her life being second best to life-threatening situations. Adora would rather jump head-first into death's grip than be with Catra.

Well, Catra would not accept it, but that did not mean she wanted to leave. She just felt that it was her only option. Still, Catra looked behind her and wondered whether or not she did the right thing.

Melog must have sensed something was wrong because they suddenly screeched to a halt, throwing Catra on the ground.

“Ow! What’s wrong with you?”

Melog stood in front of Catra, meowing.

“Stop it. Stop it!” She pushed them away. “I told you, I’m not going back.”

Melog growled lowly and pinned Catra to the ground. Tears escaped her eyes, and she was frustrated with Melog insistence to turn back. “You saw what happened! Adora chose Shadow Weaver, okay?! Not me! Adora doesn’t want me!” Catra lowered her voice and looked away. “Not like I want her.”

Melog comforted Catra by licking her cheek, and Catra sat up and hugged them. They stood still for a few moments, and Catra was glad that she had someone to lean on in tough times, even if that someone happened to be a magical cat.

Suddenly, Catra heard footsteps approaching. Melog shielded them with invisibility, just to be safe. It was a good thing they did because moments later, a Horde soldier appeared. Catra thought it was strange for a random soldier to be walking alone in the Whispering Woods, especially with such purpose. A split second later, she decided to follow.

Catra followed the Horde soldier to a giant outpost. She looked down and gasped, recognizing First Ones’ writing. Then, she looked up and gasped again at a giant machine surrounded by dozens of clones. It was a lot to take in, and Catra’s heart sank as she realized that Horde Prime was planning something big, something that would destroy everything in its wake if given a chance. Whatever Prime had in store would probably ruin Etheria forever.

After almost getting caught by the real Hordak, Catra hid behind a rock and listened carefully. Horde Prime channeled Hordak’s body to speak to his army. “My brothers. The time has come at last. No longer shall She-Ra stand in my way. The Heart shall be laid bare, its power mine for the taking.”

When the surrounding clones began chanting, Catra realized in horror that Horde Prime discovered the Heart, and he found a way to activate it without She-Ra. He was taking the Heart for himself. It was only a matter of time before Prime destroyed Etheria.

Catra watched the First Ones' writing on the ground light up a sickeningly neon green as it traveled through the Whispering Woods. “Adora,” Catra said, realizing that Adora had no idea what was happening. Regardless of Catra’s pain, she had to warn her friend, at least. Catra couldn’t just abandon her, no matter how many times Adora hurt her.

Catra wondered if this was what unconditional love was like—suffering the most unimaginable pain but willing to drop everything just to help the person you loved. Catra always imagined that real love would be all chaos and passion, but these emotions did not feel like that. Unconditional love felt different—it reminded Catra of the first time she saw Etheria after being in space for months. The love Catra felt for Adora saw no end, even though she didn’t think she would see Adora again. Their love was infinite, just like the stars in the sky and galaxies in the universe.

So, without wasting another minute, Catra knew what she had to do. “We have to warn Adora!” She cried, swinging a leg over Melog’s back as Melog broke into a run.

* * *

“It’s okay, Adora. We’ll be with you the whole way, and when we get back, it’ll be a whole new world.”

Adora bit her tongue and looked down, opting not to say anything. She would break her own heart if she destroyed Bow's optimism. These were potentially the last few moments she had with her friends, and Adora wanted them to be memorable. She knew there was no going back for her. This was the end of the line.

Suddenly, Adora heard a familiar laugh. She gasped and looked up, fully alert. “Did you guys hear that?”

“What?” Glimmer asked.

Adora would recognize that laugh anywhere, under any circumstance. She always knew what Catra's laugh sounded like, even when they were enemies. A spark of hope ignited inside Adora's chest. Had Catra come back after all? “Catra?” Adora called, jogging toward the source of the noise.

Adora turned the corner, and lo and behold; there was Catra. “Hey, Adora.”

Adora felt tears of sheer joy prickle her eyes. “Catra, you came—“

“Adora!” Bow interrupted, forcing Adora to look away.

When Adora turned back, multiple versions of Catra walked toward her. When simulated Catra reached Adora, she pressed her forehead against hers. Adora knew it wasn’t real, but she could not help herself—she smiled and leaned into Catra’s touch. However, in a blink, Catra was gone. It was like Adora had dreamt the whole thing.

“You’re going the wrong way; the trail is back here.” Bow said, suddenly appearing with Glimmer. “You okay?”

Without looking at her friends, Adora spoke. “We need to be careful. It looks like this place can still project memories,” she said, collecting herself to face her friends. “We can’t let it distract us,” Adora said, whisking past Bow and Glimmer.

Bow and Glimmer could tell Adora saw something hurtful. Adora only confirmed their suspicions when she briefly lost control of She-Ra. However, Bow and Glimmer knew if they brought it up, Adora would brush it off. Adora would insist that it wasn't a big deal even though she was dealing with a fresh heartache while attempting to save Etheria at the same time.

Bow and Glimmer knew their friend was in a lot of pain, but at the moment, there was nothing they could do. It was not like Glimmer could teleport Catra—none of them had any idea where she went. So, Bow and Glimmer followed Adora, vowing to be there for her in every way they could.

* * *

After running for what felt like forever, Catra made it back to the hideout, panting furiously. “Adora! Adora!”

Someone else answered instead. “She’s not here,” Shadow Weaver said.

“What do you mean, ‘she’s not here’? Where is she!”

Shadow Weaver stood and approached Catra. “She’s gone to the Heart of Etheria to free the magic and become the hero she was born to be. If you are still so selfish as to try and stop—”

Catra furiously grabbed Shadow Weaver’s lapels. “ENOUGH! This isn’t about you and your messed up power trip anymore. Prime is doing something to the planet. He’s… infecting it. He’s going for the Heart.”

Shadow Weaver processed the information, but before she could respond, they heard a noise. They both went outside and saw a giant hologram of Horde Prime in the sky.

“Rejoice, Etheria, for your day of reckoning has come. I offered you mercy, but you have spurned my good graces. So be it.”

Prime dragged Entrapta to his side, using her hair. Entrapta was crying. “I’m sorry.”

Catra grew furious by the minute. She had no idea what The Rebellion initially planned, but if Prime captured Entrapta, things weren't going well. She had to get to Adora, no matter what Prime said. “Your resistance has been for naught; your She-Ra has abandoned you. All that is left for your world is a terrible and eternal night.” Then, the hologram flickered off.

Catra turned to Shadow Weaver, panicking. “Take us to Adora now!”

“She’s too far away by now; we’d never reach her in time!”

“No. Use your magic; I know you have more power than you’re letting on.”

“It doesn’t work that way, Catra.”

“You’ve done it before! When you—you abandoned me in the Fright Zone, and you’ve always been able to track us our whole lives, so do something good with it for once and help me save Adora before it’s too late!” Catra cried desperately.

Shadow Weaver reached for something in her pocket. Catra thought Shadow Weaver would pull out a weapon, so she was surprised when Shadow Weaver presented an unidentified object. She held out her hand to Catra. “Come here.”

Catra’s eyes widened in shock. She could not believe her speech worked since it was so unlike Shadow Weaver to be selfless, especially at the risk of injuring herself. However, there was no time to dwell on that now, so Catra grabbed Shadow Weaver’s hand.

Within moments, they were in the middle of the First Ones' citadel, standing in front of Bow and Glimmer.

“Catra?” Bow asked, bewildered.

Catra ignored him, latching onto Glimmer’s shoulders instead. “Where’s Adora?!”

Glimmer had tears in her eyes. “She… she left us. She’s headed to the Heart on her own.”

“Of course she’s gone! That’s what she does, isn’t it?” Catra screeched hysterically.

They were interrupted by a crumbling sound above their heads.

“Catra, what is going on?” Bow asked.

“Horde Prime is onto you. He’s—he’s hacking the planet. All of this… is from him.”

Bow and Glimmer looked at each other knowingly. “He’s gonna take the Heart,” Bow said.

“That’s not all. He’s got Entrapta,” Catra said.

“If Prime has Entrapta, that means the other princesses are still chipped. We have to get back up there,” Bow said.

“We can’t just leave Adora,” Glimmer cried.

“I’ll stay. I’ll find her.” Catra was surprised that those words came out of her mouth, but there was no turning back. The unconditional love Catra held for Adora in her heart was strong and unwavering; it would not let Catra abandon Adora, even if she wanted to.

“Catra…” Glimmer began.

“I can’t lose her again, okay!” Catra cried. Then, she looked down, preparing herself for what she was about to say. Catra was scared, but Bow and Glimmer had to understand just how much Adora meant to her. “I promised her a long time ago that I’d look out for her. It’s time I made good on that.”

Bow and Glimmer stood still for a few moments. Catra’s feelings were unspoken, but they knew. Catra suspected that Glimmer knew the second Catra sacrificed herself for the princess, while Bow caught on during Adora and Catra’s reunion. However, neither Bow nor Glimmer felt the need to say anything. Adora and Catra’s love was so powerful that they could go the rest of their lives without confessing, and their love would still be crystal clear. Part of Bow thought Adora and Catra’s love was always like that, even when they fought on opposite sides.

Adora and Catra’s love gave Glimmer so much hope, and she felt privileged to witness how much they cared for each other. Glimmer thought about how lucky you had to be to have someone like that, but Glimmer suspected she had that person right in front of her. Adora and Catra’s love was so inspiring that Glimmer was seriously considering confessing her own feelings. She briefly thought of Bow before she smiled and threw her arms around Catra. “Take care of her, Horde scum.”

All three of them knew that Glimmer meant that in more ways than one. Catra returned the hug. “That’s the plan, Sparkles. And… good luck.”

Bow put his arms around Catra and Glimmer. “The four of us don’t need luck. We’re the Best Friends Squad.”

As Bow hugged them tightly, Catra realized that for the first time, she believed it.

* * *

When Adora opened her eyes, she stood on a cliff overlooking Etheria. This was not an Etheria she knew. It must be what Etheria looked like with magic. Adora was sure she had never seen anything so beautiful in her life.

Despite the breathtaking view, Adora could have never missed the person that came up to her side. Mara.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Adora spoke. “I’m going to save Etheria, no matter what it takes. Your sacrifice won’t be in vain, I promise.”

“But at what cost?”

Of all the things Mara could have said, Adora certainly wasn’t expecting that. She gasped and looked at Mara.

“I never wanted to die. I sacrificed myself, so you would never have to. Why are you doing this, Adora?”

“It’s better this way. My friends will be safe; they’ll be happy.”

Mara cupped Adora’s face. “And you? What do you want when this is all over?”

“I…” Adora trailed off, at a loss for words. Secretly, she knew the answer to that; she always had. If Adora could, she would choose Catra in a heartbeat. But Adora also knew that there was no way they could beat Prime if she didn't sacrifice herself. How Adora admit what she wanted? That would be incredibly selfish of her, and she couldn't bear that.

Adora remembered what Catra asked her before she ran off. When do you get to choose? What do you want, Adora? God, Adora wanted. If she could, she would spend the rest of her life showing Catra that all she wanted was her. But it was in Adora’s blood and bones to be selfless—it was just how she was built. She wished things could be different, but her wants and needs did not matter when Etheria was at stake. “It doesn’t matter. I’m She-Ra, this is what I’m supposed to do.”

Just then, the simulation glitched, and Adora recognized that something was wrong. They must be out of time. Mara held her hands. “You’re worth more than what you can give to other people. You deserve love, too.”

Tears brimmed in Adora’s eyes. This was Mara telling her that she was worthy enough to find her own love. It meant more than it could have from anyone else. Adora dared to hope that maybe this battle would not end in her death. Perhaps she would survive and tell Catra how she felt.

“You’re so close, Adora. Don’t give up yet.”

Adora nervously backed away as the entire simulation turned green. “Mara? What’s—”

“Ah.” Adora’s heart sank as she recognized the voice. She turned around. “Adora. So this is where you’ve run to hide.”

Adora instantly forgot all about what Mara said, consumed with the need to protect and die for Etheria once again.

—

S05E13 Heart Part 2

This was it. This was the end.

Adora clutched her side in agony. She panted as beads of sweat trickled down her face. Adora could not believe that she was about to lose to a creepy monster she could take out in her sleep if she was She-Ra.

Keyword: if. Adora was gravely injured and unable to transform back into She-Ra. She thought she would die by activating the Failsafe, but dying on the ground in unbearable pain? Handed to a monster on a silver platter like she was the main course of his meal? It was not worth it. None of this was worth it. Letting Catra go was not worth it. However, there was nothing Adora could do because she was still about to die at the hands of some weird squid, and Catra would never know how much Adora loved her.

It was safe to say Adora’s day was going terribly.

Suddenly, Adora heard a growl. She looked up and saw Catra charge at the creature, landing on her feet just a few meters away. “Hey, Adora,” Catra said, out of breath.

“Catra! You can’t be here; it’s too dangerous!” Adora tried to move, but she tripped. Right into Shadow Weaver’s arms. “Shadow Weaver?”

Adora was shocked at the twist of events, but she wasn't unhappy. Shadow Weaver’s presence bewildered her, but Catra’s? Adora broke Catra’s heart beyond repair, and Catra still came back to save her. Catra came back for her. Adora tried to stifle her singing heart as she realized how much she loved her best friend.

“Get Adora to the Heart, I’ll take care of this thing,” Catra said.

“Catra, no!” Adora cried. She was not okay with that plan.

Catra’s stern gaze softened when she turned to Adora. “I’ll catch up, okay? Get to the Heart.” However, nobody in the room—not Catra, Shadow Weaver, or Adora herself—believed her words.

Shadow Weaver pulled Adora away despite her protests. “No, no. Catra!”

But Catra was too busy fighting the monster to hear Adora wailing.

* * *

Catra managed to knock down the monster, but she barely caught her breath before the First Ones' writing on the floor lit up neon green. She knew what that meant—Horde Prime was here. She had to get to Adora and warn her before anything happened.

As soon as Catra ran into the tunnel that Adora and Shadow Weaver entered minutes earlier, she heard a familiar cackle. Her heart sank, and her stomach twisted in knots as a hologram of Horde Prime appeared.

“Oh, little sister. What a shame. I had such high hopes for you.”

Catra would not show Prime how terrified she was. She would not fall under his spell, or anyone else’s, ever again. She would not succumb to his manipulation, even if she knew he could destroy her with a flick of his hand.

Unfortunately, Catra did not realize the only reason Prime appeared was to distract her. The monster got up and wrapped a tentacle around Catra’s ankle. Catra screamed, feeling stupid that she fell for another one of Horde Prime’s tricks, despite promising herself she wouldn’t. But Catra did not realize she screamed so loud that the cavern shook down the tunnel to Adora and Shadow Weaver.

Adora’s skin prickled. Catra was in trouble. She had to go back. “No. No, wait.”

“Don’t lose your focus, we’re so close,” Shadow Weaver said.

Shadow Weaver and Adora reached a glowing orb. The Heart of Etheria. However, Adora could not concentrate because of the sharp pain in her hip, a cruel reminder that she let Catra take the fall when Adora should have died. Adora shouldn’t have left. Since when did she let her friends die for her, anyway? She could not hand over the Failsafe without Catra, and Catra’s screams only solidified that.

Adora heard Catra howl again, and Adora suddenly didn't care if she died stumbling on her way back to Catra—she had to save her. Adora was supposed to die at the monster's hands, not Catra. Adora would never forgive herself if Catra died in her place. Groaning in agony, Adora put one foot in front of the other, retracing her path to Catra. It was ironic—no matter what Adora did, all roads led back to Catra.

“Adora, wait!” Shadow Weaver cried, but Adora ignored her.

Meanwhile, the monster used its leverage to drag Catra toward him. She tried using her nails to hold her ground, but it was pointless. All they did was screech uncomfortably loud across the floor, leaving claw marks.

Prime ruthlessly taunted her. “So brave risking yourself for Adora, but it will make no difference. The Heart is almost mine, and when it is, your Adora will die.”

Catra’s eyes widened, realizing she tried her best, but it was not enough. The monster flung Catra into the air and dangled her. Then, he dragged Catra dangerously close to his jaw.

“So tell me, little sister, was it worth it?”

Catra closed her eyes, refusing to answer. She knew this was the end, but she would not give Prime any satisfaction. Tears stung her eyes as she faced death head-on. In any other moment, Catra would chastise herself for fearing death, something she thought she would never be afraid of. But when was the last time she was this close to the end? When Hordak planned to torture her in front of other Horde soldiers? At the time, Catra was devoid of any emotion. She was alone, and nothing mattered to her. But now? Catra thought she had lost everything when she left Adora, but she had built a life for herself. She had real friends. She had Melog. This time, Catra was bursting with love instead of wallowing in bitter hollowness. Now, she was afraid to die because she had so much left to say, but her words would die on her lips as Prime’s monster swallowed her whole.

Catra waited for the inevitable, but a spark of black magic zapped the monster’s jaw, forcing him to release Catra. She tumbled to the floor and landed with a thud.

Catra looked up. She was stunned to see who it was. “Shadow Weaver?”

“Take Adora and run!”

Catra watched as Shadow Weaver cast spells at the monster. Catra stood up, but she did not move, wholly mesmerized by Shadow Weaver’s rescue. “What are you—”

“I told you to run! Now run!” Shadow Weaver shrieked, using magic to send Catra down the tunnel.

Catra was out of her mind. She was absolutely out of her mind. Here was her former abuser, a person who inflicted the most pain on her (other than Horde Prime), ready to sacrifice herself. Catra couldn’t just leave her, no matter how badly Shadow Weaver had hurt her. Catra stood up, but Shadow Weaver ignited a transparent wall at the tunnel’s entrance before Catra could do anything. She banged on the wall hysterically. “Shadow Weaver, no! What are you doing?!”

“Please, Catra. You need to make sure Adora reaches the Heart. The magic must be set free.”

Catra only watched as the monster freed himself from Shadow Weaver’s magic and fought against her. “Stop it; it’s going to kill you!”

“It’s too late for me. But you… this is only the beginning for you. I am so proud of you, Catra.”

Before that moment, if anyone had told Catra that Shadow Weaver would swoop in at Catra’s deathbed, save her, and sacrifice herself, Catra would have laughed. Shadow Weaver? Saving Catra while sacrificing herself? Catra expected Perfuma to stop believing in love before that happened. And Shadow Weaver telling Catra how she was proud of her? This had to be some crazy, wacky dream because nothing made sense. Catra owed absolutely nothing to Shadow Weaver, but hearing Shadow Weaver's words made Catra desperate to do something. With tears in her eyes, Catra wailed, “No! No!”

Catra raised her fist to break through the blockade, but someone’s hand stopped her. “Catra?” Adora croaked.

Catra looked at Adora, acknowledging her presence, before turning back to Shadow Weaver one last time.

In elated horror, Adora and Catra watched Shadow Weaver sacrifice herself to save their lives. After Shadow Weaver and the monster vanished, Adora and Catra remained silent as they absorbed what happened. Catra slowly began to accept that she couldn’t have done anything, despite tears streaming down her face. At that moment, she knew that she would never have the heart to forgive Shadow Weaver, but Catra was thankful for her former abuser’s last act being one of bravery and heroism.

Adora burst into tears, completely shocked. Just minutes earlier, she was walking down the tunnel with Shadow Weaver. Adora still despised her, but the last thing she expected was Shadow Weaver to die for them. Honestly, Adora expected Shadow Weaver to backstab The Rebellion and take the Heart for herself before this. Adora cried because of the shocking twist of events and because she might have been secretly relieved that Shadow Weaver died instead of Catra. No, she was definitely relieved.

Eventually, Catra placed a hand on Adora’s shoulder. “Come on. We have to go.”

Adora and Catra shared a glance, knowing they couldn't waste any more time. Adora stood and hugged Catra instead of saying what she wanted to say. You came back for me. I’m happy that it wasn’t you that died at the monster’s hands. I could not think of any other person I’d rather reach the Heart of Etheria with than you. Maybe if Adora managed to live after all this was over, she would tell Catra everything she felt, but for now, they simply hugged and staggered down the tunnel together, holding each other the whole way through.

* * *

Catra quickly realized that Adora was still in a lot of pain because of her injury, so she steadily held her friend while they walked toward the Heart. Adora caught Catra’s eye, and as usual, Catra stared at her like there was nobody else in the world. At that moment, there truly wasn’t anyone else.

Before Adora and Catra knew it, a glowing object appeared in front of them. They finally reached the Heart, and they both gasped in awe.

“The Heart of Etheria. We made it,” Adora said.

Adora approached the center of the platform, ready to transform into She-Ra to unleash the Heart’s magic. However, as she attempted to channel She-Ra, the pain in her hip worsened considerably. Instead of a dull, throbbing ache, Adora felt like someone was butchering her alive. She screamed as glowing green lines filled her skin.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Catra asked, catching a stumbling Adora.

“I don’t—I don’t know. I can’t transform.” The Heart shook around them. “It’s Prime’s virus; it’s keeping me from becoming She-Ra.”

“What does that mean? Is the failsafe not going to work without her?” Catra asked, although considering that she dreaded the answer, Catra had a feeling she knew what Adora would say.

Adora looked down at her chest, where the Failsafe glowed. She was not upset since she always knew it would come down to this. However, Adora’s heart did twinge in disappointment because she would not live the life Mara wanted her to live. “No, it’ll work.” She paused, then looked at Catra. “Get as far away from here as you can. I have to do this next part on my own.”

“Adora, what is going to happen to you?” Catra demanded.

Adora walked away. “Without She-Ra, the magic will destroy me. I’m sorry, Catra. I’m so sorry. But there’s no more time. It has to end here. I can still save everybody.” Adora approached Catra again, placing her hands on Catra’s head and pressing her forehead against hers. Adora felt idiotic for thinking that a simulated Catra could ever be real. Pressing her forehead against a fake Catra's was nothing compared to the real thing. “It’s okay. I’m ready.”

Catra would not accept Adora’s fate. Well, maybe she didn’t have a choice, but Catra could choose to be there for Adora every step of the way. If Adora had to die, then she could spend her last moments with Catra. Somehow, Catra knew Adora would like that. Besides, this was better than running away with a broken heart. Long after Adora was gone, Catra knew she would be comforted by the fact that their last moments together would be in each other’s arms instead of intensely fighting with each other.

So, when Adora pulled away, Catra grabbed her hands. “No.”

“Catra…”

“No! I’m not leaving. Whatever happens, I am staying with you.”

Adora approached the center of the platform again, and Catra lightly held onto her arm. Catra knew that she would have to let go of Adora eventually, but she wasn’t ready yet. Then again, would Catra ever be prepared to let the love of her life die? There would never be a moment where Catra could confidently say, “let’s do this,” but she wanted to hold on for as long as she could.

Adora and Catra stared at the Heart of Etheria in silence. Suddenly, Adora fell back into Catra’s arms, screaming once again. Catra saw the Failsafe glitch in Adora’s chest, so she did not react in time to catch Adora before she collapsed on the ground.

“Adora?” Catra knelt beside Adora and gently turned her over. This was it. Adora was dying. She was really dying. Although Catra could not stop what was happening, she collected Adora in her arms and said, “No, no, no, no, no. No! No!”

As the Heart of Etheria beat louder, Catra looked up and saw Horde Prime’s infection consume the Heart. Moments later, green lightning spasmed, and Catra tightened her grip on Adora, shielding her from the bolt. After a few moments, she pulled away. “Adora? Adora, stay awake!”

Adora opened her eyes. She should have noticed the swirling green magic infecting the heart, but all she saw was her beloved Catra.

Catra had no idea what Adora stared at, so she looked up too. When nothing out of the ordinary happened, she looked back down at Adora, more confused than ever.

“I’m sorry,” Adora whispered as Catra cupped her face. Adora placed her hand on top of Catra’s.

“Adora!” Catra cried, pulling her close. “Adora!”

When Adora closed her eyes one last time, Catra’s screams were nothing but faint echoes wailing through the cavern walls.

* * *

When Adora opened her eyes, she gasped. Something felt off, but she could not figure out why. She looked at her reflection in a fancy water fountain while inspecting her outfit: a long, simple, and elegant white gown. Hair brushed back and styled. A piece of jewelry on her head. She looked like she was going to a ball.

Just then, the door opened. Glimmer and Catra burst in as Glimmer chased Catra, attempting to brush her hair. Adora noticed they were also dressed in ball clothing.

“Don’t let her touch me; she’s gonna torture me!” Catra cried playfully, using Adora as a shield.

“Do you always have to be this dramatic?” Glimmer asked, but she was smiling.

“Come on, guys!” A deep voice boomed. Adora turned just as Bow approached them. “If we’re late to Scorpia’s first ball, she’s gonna kill us.”

Bow wrapped his arm lovingly around Glimmer’s shoulder, and Glimmer leaned into his touch. “Fine! You’re off the hook. This time.”

Catra stuck out her tongue triumphantly. This banter was happening so fast, and Adora barely had time to process any of it. This scenario was all Adora wanted, but it seemed like it was a dream too good to be true. She was afraid that if she let her guard down, she would wake up.

Bow and Glimmer walked out shortly after that. Catra started following, but she turned back and held out her hand. “You coming?”

All of Adora’s concerns faded away when Catra offered her hand. She smiled and reached for it, but she was caught off guard when Adora’s hand fell right through Catra’s. A simulation. Of course. How could Adora not realize it before? She chastised herself for being so careless.

Adora watched as Catra transformed into Horde Prime, but she did not feel pressured to defend herself. Adora felt like everything was hopeless, and Prime’s words only confirmed that. “A beautiful wish. But there will be no future. Not for you.”

Adora did not know what to do, but it did not matter because Prime immediately wrapped a large ribbon around Adora, suffocating her. The ribbon was heavy, and it dragged her down into nothingness. Adora screamed, but the farther she fell, the more useless she felt. She closed her eyes, ready to give up until she heard a voice.

“Adora! Please! You have to wake up!” Catra cried desperately, standing in the light and holding out her hand.

Of course, Catra was not in the simulation, so through her eyes, Adora lay lifeless in her arms. “You can’t give up. You have never given up on anything in your life. Not even on me. So don’t you dare start now!”

Catra’s hand was so close that Adora almost felt warmth reverberating from it. Still, Catra seemed out of reach. Every time Adora inched forward, pain charged through her body, worsening with every attempt. Tears welled in her eyes. “It’s too late. I’ve failed.”

“No! No! I’ve got you, I’m not letting go,” Catra said, hugging Adora tightly. She did not even know where Adora’s consciousness lay or whether she was even alive, but Catra would not stop now. “Don’t you get it?! I love you. I always have. So please, just this once… stay.”

Adora felt too weak to portray her shock, but Catra’s words did give her enough energy for one final boost. Adora pushed herself up and grabbed Catra’s hand.

But Catra had no idea whether Adora heard her or not. She buried her face in Adora’s neck, praying with everything she had that Adora would live. “Stay.”

Catra did not care that the Heart was about to explode and that the world would crash over their heads. However, Catra turned her head once she heard something, followed by a bright light. She saw a brilliant rainbow transform into She-Ra’s shield. The shield vanished, but as Adora’s hand fell on Catra’s shoulder, Catra realized: Adora did that. Catra’s words made Adora shield them. They made Adora want to live. Maybe Adora had chosen Catra in the end, after all.

Adora opened her eyes and propped herself up. “You love me?”

Catra did not expect Adora to be surprised, so she chuckled. “You’re such an idiot.” Catra knew at that moment, even if Adora did not return her feelings (although Catra had an inkling she did), they would be okay, no matter what. But Adora confirmed Catra’s suspicions when she dopily smiled. Catra’s facial expression grew serious as her insides burst into confetti. Adora looked at Catra the same way Catra looked at Adora.

“I love you, too,” Adora finally said, as the Heart of Etheria beat steadily in the background.

Catra always thought that if this moment ever happened, she would shout from the rooftops: Adora loves me! While Catra still wanted to do that, Adora almost died moments before. Catra wanted to feel Adora’s breath on hers; she wanted to feel her best friend’s heart thump. So, Catra grinned, cupped Adora’s face, and kissed her.

And God, was it a kiss. Adora and Catra were so immersed in each other that they did not see the Failsafe glow and explode, disappearing from Adora’s chest. Once the Failsafe dissolved, a sea of flying colors engulfed them. But Adora and Catra did not feel the Heart of Etheria’s magic—they barely noticed it at all. Neither of them would ever think about it, but they did not see the Heart’s magic because they were too wrapped up in their own love, magic that they created. The Failsafe may have freed Etheria’s magic, but it did not activate itself. Adora and Catra’s pure unconditional love, as bright and as magical as any star in the sky, ignited the Failsafe. Only love, the purest of its kind, in any form, could set Etheria’s magic free. After all, She-Ra came back to life because of Adora’s love for Catra. Now, the Heart released its magic because of the love they had for each other.

The rainbow surrounding Adora and Catra transformed into gold. Everything in the tunnel turned golden as Adora changed into She-Ra. Adora and Catra pulled away, and they both looked around, in awe of Etheria’s magic. They did it. They activated the Failsafe, unleashed the Heart, and restored magic to Etheria.

Adora wanted to stay in Catra’s embrace forever, but she knew she had some things to take care of first. She looked at Catra knowingly; then she stood and walked out of the citadel, golden beams of light reflecting on her.

As Adora walked, she witnessed the crumbling ground beneath her feet turn into fresh green grass. It never ceased to amaze Adora that within moments, the rest of Etheria would follow. She looked up at Horde Prime’s ship—now a brilliant gold—and used her sword to shoot magic toward it, transforming the vessel into a miniature forest. Next, Adora looked down and jammed She-Ra’s blade into the ground. Everyone watched as a golden wave swept away a dark and dreary Etheria.

Once the magic restored life to Etheria, Adora had one last thing to do. She approached Hordak, who Prime was still channeling. Whatever he said, Adora barely heard him, and more importantly, she did not care. She knelt and became face to face with Hordak-as-Prime. “No. You’re wrong. It’s time for you to go.”

So, Adora held Hordak’s face, using her magic to free Hordak and rid the world of Horde Prime once and for all.

* * *

Now that Adora restored Etheria’s magic and Horde Prime was gone for good, Catra had one last thing she had to do.

Scorpia was laughing with Perfuma, Emily, and Frosta, rejoicing the end of Prime’s reign. Catra nervously approached them, afraid of how Scorpia would react. Despite her fears, Catra wanted to apologize to Scorpia ever since she started becoming a better person.

When the princesses noticed Catra coming their way, they stopped laughing.

Catra gripped the back of her neck as her heart skipped several beats. “Hey, Scorpia. Look, I—”

Before Catra said anything, Scorpia scooped her up in her arms and hugged her.

“Oh, there it is,” Catra said. She felt like Scorpia was squeezing her to death, but Catra was secretly relieved that her friend forgave her. Once the celebrations cooled down, Catra would specifically apologize to Scorpia. Catra owed her friend accountability and respect, and she wanted to begin their renewed friendship with no skeletons in the closet. But for now, Scorpia understood that Catra was trying to apologize, which was enough for her.

“You know I’m a hugger.”

“Princess hug!” Perfuma suddenly cried, and she joined the embrace with Frosta. Now Catra definitely felt like the princesses were squashing her. It was never a position Catra thought she would be in, but here she was.

And there was (almost) nowhere else Catra would rather be.

* * *

As everyone caught up with each other, Adora approached a clearing. She saw all of Etheria from where she stood, and it was her first chance to relish in the planet’s beauty. Subconsciously, Adora transformed back into herself, knowing She-Ra would always be there whenever she needed her.

Adora was blown away at the amount of life that thrived on Etheria, especially since it happened so fast. Adora was so mesmerized by the view that she did not hear Catra approach. “Adora?”

Adora turned and held out her hand. It was still so hard to believe that she could put herself first for once and choose what she wanted, and she was elated that Catra wanted her, too. The two of them have come a long way—from growing up as best friends to becoming enemies, to reuniting, to becoming best friends again, to falling in love, and finally admitting their feelings to each other. It was surreal to Adora, and the best part was it wasn’t a dream. Loving Catra and being loved in return was the most real thing Adora felt in her life, and she could not wait to spend eternity with her best friend and soulmate.

Catra took Adora’s hand, and they pressed their foreheads together. “It’s over. He’s gone,” Adora said.

“Good riddance,” Catra agreed.

They stood still for a few moments, basking in Etheria’s warm glow. Then, Bow and Glimmer snuck up from behind and tackled them. The Best Friends Squad rolled down the hill, laughing together. When they slid to a stop, they had their arms around each other.

Bow propped himself up. “So, what are we gonna do now?”

Adora sighed and looked up at the glittering sky. “We can bring magic back to the universe. What do you guys say to one more Best Friends Squad road trip?” She said as they all stood.

“I’m in!” Glimmer cried.

“Obviously!” Bow agreed.

“Of course I’m going with you, dummy,” Catra said, playfully rolling her eyes.

Adora smiled at her friends and hugged them once again. She couldn’t wait to start the rest of their lives. “Then let’s do this. Together.”

#catradora #catradora fanfic #catradora fic #catradora fanfiction #spop fanfic #she ra fanfic #my writing #she ra #my drabbles #god i finally finished rip #i'm happy but also sad

17 notes · View notes