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slippinmickeys · 1 year

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The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae (28/31)

Mulder took a step toward her anyway.

“What’s the experiment?” he asked.

Scully looked at him, shoulders up around her ears with tension. The noise of the dust storm outside had become a steady static of sound, of particles being blown into metal. A constant smatter of dissonance.

Finally she sighed. “The bacterium I came into contact with on your suit,” she started, “normally exists at extreme temperatures. The pit had an average temperature of -125 degrees Fahrenheit. Yet they’re functioning just fine on the rover.”

“The surface temperature of Mars can hit 70 degrees in the summer,” Mulder pointed out.

“True,” she admitted. “But it got me thinking that if it could survive at 73 degrees,” she said, referring to the base temperature of the Rover, “why couldn’t it survive at 98.6?”

Mulder could see how the dots had connected in her head, but correlation did not equal causation.

“This is a creature that feeds off of sulfur and ammonia, Scully,” he said gently. “It doesn’t need you.”

“But I’m sick, Mulder. I am.” He opened his mouth to try to calm her, but she plowed on. “I don’t feel well. And the effects of gravitational biology—zero G changes our biology on a fundamental level, Mulder. It changes our DNA. It makes bacteria more potent, more dangerous. You know this. What if this bacterium came into contact with another bacterium that hitched a ride from Earth and changed in space? What if it created a hybrid microbe? It’s been proven that bacterial cells from different species can combine into unique hybrid cells by fusing their cell walls and membranes and sharing cellular contents,including proteins and ribonucleic acid.hose are the molecules that regulate gene expression and control cell metabolism, Mulder. What if this alien bacteria is… What if it’s now feeding on me?”

“Scully,” he said, stepping forward and keeping his voice low. “You’re panicking.”

“I’m sick.”

“And we will figure it out.” He got a little closer to her. If he could touch her, he could calm her down and reassure her, he was certain. She didn’t back away. Finally, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Her skin did feel warm, even through her jumpsuit. He wasn’t certain it was a fever, but it was concerning.

“Mulder, you should be in full PPE,” she said. Her voice had lost the desperate edge to it.

“If this is some kind of contagion, I’ve already been exposed. Come here.” And he pulled her into his body. She sagged into his touch.

“Tell me about your experiment,” he said after a moment.

“I’ve exposed an isolated population of the Martian bacterium to a host of bacteria that we’ve carried with us,” she started.

He thought of her quick jaunt to the lav. “I don’t think I want to know how,” he said, and he felt her small huff of a laugh.

“You don’t,” she said. “I want to see how they react to each other. It shouldn’t take long. We’ll know what’s possible in a few hours. If I need to be worried.”

“Pardon me if I’m pointing out the obvious, Scully, but you already seem to be worried.”

Her breath into his jumpsuit was humid and warm.

“I have a quicker idea,” Mulder spoke again, pulling back so he could get a look in her eyes.

They were big and blue and wet, and he wanted so badly to fall into them and drown in her. If she was sick, he wasn’t sure what he’d do, how he’d cope. But he was determined to be strong right now, because she was not.

“How does the phlebotomy queen feel about a self-stick?”

“A blood sample?” she asked.

He nodded. She pulled back, running the back of her hand under her nose. “I thought of that,” she said, sniffling. “But I didn’t want to get ahead of myself.”

They both chuckled at that.

“I think I’m too shaky to do a self-draw,” she finally said.

“I’ll do it,” Mulder said gently. “As long as you don’t judge my technique.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

She had somehow let herself get completely worked up and overwrought, the excitement of her discovery, the off-ness of not feeling well, the grip of exhaustion and the stress of the storm, and their isolation all aggregating until she was a jumble of pathos and hysteria.

What was the matter with her?

Mulder’s solution was simple and direct. If she was concerned about contagion, she should test herself. They’d know one way or the other. One step at a time.

He’d done the blood draw beautifully, had been gentle and deferential, asking her advice on the best way to do this or that, and she didn’t realize until he was done that he’d drawn her focus away from her fear and managed to calm her down without her catching on to his tactics.

They’d taken three vials worth of blood; one to run under the microscope, one to run through The Machine (a piece of NASA medical equipment that ran multiple simple diagnostic analyses), and one for further testing and experimentation, if necessary.

Mulder held up the first vial.

“Do you want me to do it?” he asked.

She felt calm now, and silly for having gotten so worked up. She was embarrassed and needed a distraction. “I’ll do it,” she said, and she took the vial from him and readied a slide, putting it into the Glove Box for a closer look.

Her nerves were tightly wound, but she moved with confidence, in her element, determined to do the science right. She clicked the light on the microscope and changed out the lens. One deep breath, and she looked into the eyepiece.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder was on the edge of his seat, his nerves worn raw with concern, but unwilling to let Scully catch on to any of his internal disquiet. She needed confidence and calm and a partner to shore her up. He would wait, quietly and calmly, for Scully to do her work and tell him what she saw.

Blood thrumming, he watched as she adjusted the slide, swapped lenses, adjusted again, swapped again. And just when he was about to burst out of his skin, Scully pulled back from the microscope and gripped the lab table hard, her knuckles turning white. She inhaled and exhaled once and then turned to Mulder.

“There’s no evidence of contagion,” she said with a shaky voice. “My blood is clean.”

Mulder was up before he could tell his legs to move, and he wrapped Scully in a tight hug. She clung to him just as fiercely and he could feel her sag in relief.

“You had me worried,” he said into the silk of her hair.

“I had myself worried,” she said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into his chest. “But Mulder,” and with this he pulled back a little, looked down at her. “Something is going on with me, and we need to figure out what it is.”

He nodded and ran hands over her hair, tucking it behind both ears at the same time. “And we will. We’ll start right now.”

“You know how to load the sample into The Machine?” she asked him. The next course of action would be to run the second vial of blood through the small diagnostic computer, which would give them an idea of where to start depending on the results of the various analyses it ran.

“I’ve been told it’s so simple even a psychologist can do it.”

She smiled at him tiredly. “Can you load it, then? It’ll take a few hours to run. We should get some sleep.”

He nodded and leaned down to press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose. “Go get ready for bed,” he said, and took the second sample over to the lab’s computer interface.

When he was done loading it and the machine was up and running, he turned to find Scully standing in front of the larger cot on the edge of the lab, dropping her jumpsuit to pool on the floor at her feet. She stood before him in a white tank top and a pair of panties and she looked thinner than she had the last time they’d been together. Outside, a low throb of thunder rumbled.

“Take me to bed, Mulder,” she said. “Take me away from here for a little while.”

He swallowed hard and his face went hot. He stepped up to her, ran a finger slowly up the side of her bare arm. “Anywhere,” he whispered.

Later, when he lifted his head from her lap, the foggy moisture of her center plied to his chin like rich river mud, in texture, in taste, he realized where they’d gone. Back to grassy hills and expansive water. Back to the heat of the desert, to the brackish shore of the Chesapeake. She was all the flavors of home, of the Earth, her hands like a starfish in his hair, her very essence of the sea.

They’d gone back. At least for a little while.

When he awoke hours later, she was riffling through a supply cabinet with an unnerving air of hysteria, her jumpsuit pulled back over her shoulders, but the front unzipped and gaping and showing the pendulous curve of her perfect breasts.

He tried to blink the sleep out of his eyes and glanced over at The Machine, the screen of which was showing a readout that he couldn’t make out from where he lay on the cot across the room.

“Scully?” he called over to her, his voice sounding groggy and frog-like, still choked with sleep. “Is The Machine done? What does it say?

She didn’t answer, just continued to paw through the contents of one of the medical lockers. Concerned, Mulder sat up, thinking maybe she was searching for a drug, something to fix whatever it was that was wrong.

“Scully?” he said again, and then, not bothering to dress, he walked over to The Machine and rove his eyes over the results of Scully’s blood analysis. Some of the results he was familiar with, some he was not. From his base-level understanding, everything appeared to be in order.

He ran his finger down the screen and stopped near the bottom, at a line that had been highlighted with the cursor.

Quantitative (beta) human chorionic gonadotropin level: 153,767 mIU/mL, it read.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He turned slowly to Scully, who had risen from the cabinet, holding several small bottles in her hand.

“Scully,” he said once more, and she slowly turned to him. He pointed to the screen. “What does this mean?”

Her nostrils flared and she looked him dead in the eye.

“I’m pregnant,” she said.

#the x-files #fanfic #my fic #msr #au #wip #mars au

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hindiimages · 1 year

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The Art of Being Completely Independent

The woman who measured my temperature is younger than I am. Her skin is flawless and glowing, unlike mine, which is dry and dull. I am only now noticing that her face is nearly smiling, as her eyes are almost full of smiles. She wears a crisp, white shirt over a teal cardigan. Her accents in the gold necklace are also teal. I stare down at the back of my hand and notice a coffee stain on my sweatshirt's arm.

As she examines me, I explain that it was just a cold and that I was going to be away for 2 months. Sweetly curious, and excited for me as a stranger, she asks me where I'm heading. I tell her it's a small Vermont community. I respond that I am not working from home, but I simply want to go on a trip. She wants to know if she knows anyone up there and if I'm visiting friends or family. I answer no again. Now my voice is shaky. I can see the confusion on her face. Alone? She asks. I smile. She smiles.

Also read: Koi Kisi Ka Nahi Hota Quotes

It's not the most bizarre thing in this world to give up my New York apartment and subway traumas and move to a farmhouse with mountain views for less rent. People find it strange that a single 36-year-old woman can leave New York to live alone for six months. People are not comfortable with me being alone at a time when most people expect that I will be settling down. They expect me as a woman to tell them that I don’t want to have children or believe in marriage. This will give them permission to stop worrying about me. Even though I wish I was one of these women who could display her disinterest in these normal paths, I'm not. I'd love to find love. I always thought I would have kids. It's not happening. But, what I am realizing is that it isn't a question of whether or not these things are for me. Yes, sounds great. I'm more interested in the question: at what cost?

Women's late thirties may be the end of their fertility. But they also appear to signal the start of a higher level of self-discovery. Many of us, including my friend and childless woman friends, are starting to take a closer look at our lives as we enter the pressure cooker. When life seems to be going in a certain direction -- like the ending of most movies, books, and stories for women -- then it doesn’t, you must ask yourself where you are headed. Forcing myself into this was a hard but necessary step. It's also the best thing that has ever happened to me. This was how I began to accept writing seriously, after so many years spent trying unsuccessfully, but with great ambition, to have it all. While on many fronts, I find myself diverging from the path that I always imagined, I did discover love.

It becomes complicated when you realize that you are responsible for creating and caring about a new person, when it may be the last chance you have to achieve what everyone else is aspiring to. I enjoy sitting alone in my apartment. This is something that I've accepted recently as my absolute favorite thing to be doing. But, I worry about my future self and the vengeance I will feel for not dating earlier. My inner child is constantly haunted by the parental chorus saying there is no greater power than having children. Even though I've spent decades chasing love, I don't feel more complete and fulfilled than I do right now, in my own company.

I get a lot of laughs when people tell me that I love being alone. I would love to be with someone who loves and cares about me. If I decide to interrupt my writing with a Tinder dating date because I must meet my love of mine tomorrow, then I don't have to make the decision whether to go out and have children. I weigh whether interrupting what I'm doing is the best option.

Even now I have too many options for how I want to spend my free time. The question of whether I want children is still an enigma. These days, I question if it is true that I desire children as often or as frequently as I contemplate another snack. My deepest conviction is that I don’t desire children. My suspicion is that any desire is only a superficial concern about how far I'll be without them. In the same way, I feel at home without a partner. Emotionally, I feel out of place when my hair's natural, wild, and exactly how I want it. Emotionally, the same goes for me when I don’t want to venture outside when it’s sunny. Because the only ground I want is the ugly territory of my mind. And I’d rather be able to do that from the safety of my own couch.

To my friends and relatives, I claim that I'm moving to Vermont to start writing. A self-made "writers' retreat" I created. Being completely alone for two weeks is another matter. I want not to feel bad doing the things that feel right to me. I want to exist in an environment where there is no partnership so I can be who I am for myself and not think about how I should be for another person. I want the freedom to just be me, without having to think about what I should do. I want it to feel good to look at myself in the mirror. I don't need to pretend I did anything or spend money to try to emulate someone else. I want the uninterrupted joy that comes from being alone to be able to trust it later when many people tell me it's not enough. I want the ability to discover what it is I really want even when no one is available to explain.

#health #enjoy alone #alone life #how to enjoy alone

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coopdigitalnewsletter · 2 years

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8 Nov 2022: Searching the infinite shelf

Hello, this is the Co-op Digital newsletter - it’s about what the internet is doing to retail businesses, people, communities and society. Thank you for reading - send ideas and feedback to @rod on Twitter.

[Image: Wayne Thiebaud]

Searching the infinite shelf

“Online shopping is a total mess in that it barely takes the opportunity to create story and experience. “Drops” are the closest we get to excitement. Instead we shopping online is indistinguishable from filling in a spreadsheet. An infinite department store catalogue.”

Ecommerce settled on “Searching for things you already know you want to buy” as the main way you shop online, and in some respects this is pretty sensible: if your shop is online you can have an infinitely long shelf. Long shelves take a long time to walk/scroll, so searching also makes sense. (Of course, this characterisation doesn’t account for the fact the shelf has moved to the warehouse, and a worker is jogging down it trying to hit their key performance indicators.)

There have been some interesting experiments with curation and some trying to make social media the front end for shopping. But other than that, ecommerce still struggles with discovery: how do you find out about things you *didn’t* already know you wanted to buy? And indeed how do you find out about brands and shops you didn’t already know you wanted to buy from?

Having been hurt by Amazon’s infinite shelf and infinite delivery network, the high street sees the need for shopping to be an experience, or more convenient, or somehow different (though probably not cheaper). Not that it is consistently delivering on that promise yet.

Related: Amazon, aggregators, and the death of brands.

Food and delivery

Food bank charity launches first-ever emergency appeal amid 'devastating rise in need'. Through its support of 1,300 food bank centres, The Trussell Trust said it has already used up its reserve stock, which would normally help maintain supplies across the winter months. (See also: supermarkets cut food waste which hits food bank donations.)

Tesco raises meal deal price as food costs soar - this feels like a big signal. It’s the first time in a decade that the meal deal has gone up.

Aldi is developing its own online grocery platform - working with German ecommerce technology company Spryker on a service that reduces its reliance on Instacart.

Deliverycos struggling: The Fantasy of Instant Delivery Is Imploding - Gopuff Fires Hundreds in Third Round of Layoffs and Deliveroo struggles with acquisition after slashing marketing spend. A strong sense that there isn’t any customer loyalty in delivery.

Climate

COP27 is on in Egypt, and the opening statements are dark. The risk is that we make continual incremental improvements all to way to 2050 and beyond, but completely fail to ever improve things *enough*. The challenge and opportunity is to completely rebuild the human world (you know - products, infrastructure, jobs, cities, society etc), because the one we have right now was built for a level of atmospheric carbon parts per million that is long gone.

New fossil fuels 'incompatible’ with 1.5C goal, comprehensive analysis finds.

“I often say the most mind-bending fact about climate is that half of all emissions came in the last 25 years. Maybe even more startling: the weight of that carbon is more than the total mass of everything ever built by humans and still standing on earth.”

Twitter

Things continue to move so fast in Elonworld that it’s hard to summarise it all coherently. This was a good read on the irreducible difficulty of content moderation: Welcome to hell, Elon. And this is solid reporting on the current chaos, including this good bit:

“Managers agonized over the decisions, and jockeyed with their peers in an effort to preserve employment for the most vulnerable among them: pregnant women, employees who have cancer, and workers on visas among them”

Musk is busy reversing the classic retailing phrase “You broke it, you bought it”. But maybe he’ll remake it. Some people are moving over to Mastodon or adding it alongside Twitter (good primer). And some aren’t.

Quoted

“[Augmented reality] fundamentally shifts the nature of the human experience past [the inventions of mobiles/PCs/etc] because it turns perception programmable”.

“I want to tell you that the SEC came in with spreadsheet-sniffing dogs.”

Co-op Digital news

Why we should work in the open.

Thank you for reading

Thank you friends, readers and contributors. Send ideas, questions, corrections, improvements, etc by replying or to @rod on Twitter. If you’ve enjoyed reading, please tell a friend! If you want to find out more about Co-op Digital, follow us @CoopDigital on Twitter and read the Co-op Digital Blog. Previous newsletters.

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andreafmn · 3 years

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I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 7

Word Count: 5,272

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 7/?

Warnings: mentions of bodily harm and blood

A/N: I honestly can't tell how much time has passed between updates until I post again. I'm sorry if I take too long to post, I'm going through some stuff and am trying to have a better posting schedule for you guys. Please bear with me <3

If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 7

It was six in the morning when I woke up drenched in sweat, my heart racing a million miles an hour. Could it be true that under everything I was built just like my aunt? That even if all I wanted was to keep everyone safe, I would ultimately be the reason they needed saving?

I shook the feeling off and decided on a lengthy run through the woods to clear my mind. I changed out of my pajamas and leashed Brody up. Images from last night’s dream kept flashing in my head, sending hurtful pings to my heart as they appeared. My dog noticed my mood shift and kept nuzzling his nose into my hand, providing what little comfort he could.

“It’s alright, buddy.” I got down to his level and pet his head. “I’m gonna be okay. We just have to make sure I stay a safe distance from them.”

Brody looked at me as if he understood what I said, nuzzling his muzzle onto my face. His nose left wet spots on my cheek, and I giggled at the tickling sensation it left.

I closed the door behind us and started a slows jog towards the woods. My legs seemed to have engrained the trail we normally took, and I felt more at ease of the direction I was going and where I had to return to. The morning was comfortably cold, the air that was created as I moved prickling my skin slightly. The ground beneath me was soft, the dewy smell of morning invading my nose. My feet crunched leaves as they made contact with the ground, the sound establishing the pace I was going. The only thing I was hoping for was that I could complete this run accompanied only by Brody.

But speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Stealthily, 20 minutes into my run, Derek crept beside my left side, a smile adorning his face. Brody’s head turned, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. An excited bark rang through his vocal cords and Derek gave him a soft pat on the top of his head.

“Good morning.” His voice was soft, still raspy from waking up.

“Morning.” My tone came off drier than I had intended, but last night’s dreams were stuck in a loop inside my head.

“Is something wrong?”

“Nope.” It was evident that he was worried. My recurring spontaneous mood changes had started to put a dent into my façade.

“Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

“(Y/N), I can tell there’s something that’s bothering you.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Derek.” I was sure he could hear my heart racing, but I could always attribute it to running. “But look at the time. I should be getting back home now – school and everything, you know?”

“Are you trying to avoid me again, (Y/N)?” He sounded hurt. And although the last thing I wanted to do was hurt him, I had to try and distance myself emotionally from him – for his well-being and mine.

“I’m not. I just have something to do before class. I’ll see you around.”

I turned around with Brody, heading back home, trying my best to regain my breath. My brain was battling between what I wanted and what was the right thing to do. Should I distance myself from everyone; should I continue pursuing personal relationships with these people; should I only interact with them for supernatural purposes; or should I just ignore the dream and try my best to suppress the supposed preying instinct I had? Maybe there was no right answer, and the future was already written for me. Whatever was meant to happen would, I just had to try my hardest to take the best steps I could.

My head had started to pound from all the thinking, and the shower I had got in did nothing to alleviate the pain. The same images displayed one after the other, non-stop. I was just thankful there were no signs of a mind reader in the group; what was flashing through my head would render too many questions for which I had no answers.

I changed into warmer clothing and finished preparing for school. My phone had been buzzing occasionally, Derek’s name popping up on the screen. Once again, I decided to keep him at an arms-length until I could figure out what the best route to take was. I knew that this wasn’t the right way to go about things, that I should talk out my worries with him, but confronting my feelings head-on had never been my play – and I wasn’t going to start now.

When the school parking lot finally came into view, I pushed all my thoughts down and put on a brave face. I couldn’t allow anyone to note the worry in my eyes. It wasn’t their fault my brain was failing me, and I didn’t wanna burden them with the images clouding my thoughts.

By my locker I saw Allison waiting for me, a smile painted on her face. I wondered if she had been disturbed by dreams like the one I had. My belief was no. Knowing Allison she would have already voiced the scenes shooting through her head.

“Morning, (Y/N),” she perked.

“Morning, Allison.” I opened my locker and exchange the books I needed. Having her following my every move not being a particularly welcome activity. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Not particularly. Have you seen what Gerard has done to the school?”

“If I wanted to be in constant surveillance I’d go to military school. But pretty sure he might be onto the supernatural being in the school,” I chuckled. “We just have to continue on as normal as possible. If there’s anything I know about hunters is that they can smell anything out, and they might note unusual behavior from close family members.”

“I just wish everything could go back to how it was before when it was easier,” she sighed. Her brows were furrowed, and her eyes were glistening.

“We burned that bridge as soon as we found out about, well, everything. I can’t promise that it get any easy, but I think once we end all this we can have a breather. Because given what our family does for a living, who your boyfriend is, who our friends are, and what this town is, normal will never be part of our vocabulary ever again.”

“I hate it when you’re right.” She rolled her eyes and wiped away the water gathering on her eyes, making sure her mascara didn’t streak. With a sigh and the clank of my locker door, we turned to head towards the library. “Scott and Stiles should be waiting for us already.”

Allison interlocked her arm with mine and guided us to the room, being careful of all the cameras that seemed to follow our every move. They were a constant reminder that our lives were never gonna go back to what they were and that one day we would have to choose between our family and our friends.

We walked into the library, and calmly walked to an empty aisle, directly across the boys who were trying to act casual. Allison took her tablet out of her bag and passed it to Scott through the bookshelf that separated us. I mirrored Stiles’ actions and took a book off the shelf to appear enthralled by The Bestiary by Nicholas Christopher… fitting.

“It’s everything Lydia could translate,” she whispered. “And trust me, she was very confused.”

“Yeah, what’d you tell her?” Scott asked.

“That we were part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures.”

I could help the snort that escaped my throat.

“I am part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures.”

“Of course you are, Stiles,” I grinned, trying my best to hold back the loud laughter that was threatening to resound around the room.

“Oh, great,” Allison provided a smile that hid the laughter she was holding onto as well.

“Okay, does it say how to find out who’s controlling him?”

“Not really. But Stiles was right about the murderers.” Stiles celebrated – it seemed to be a recurring occurrence of him hitting the mark. “It calls the Kanima a weapon of vengeance. There’s a story in there about this South American priest who uses the Kanima to execute murderers in his village.”

“All right, see? So maybe it’s not all that bad.”

“Until the bond grew strong enough that it killed whoever he wanted it to.”

“All bad, all very, very bad.”

“Here’s the thing, though. The Kanima’s actually supposed to be a werewolf, but it can’t be…”

“Alli,” I motioned at the librarian placing a book on the shelf behind her, quieting her down for a second.

“Until it resolved that in its past which manifested it,” Scott read.

“Okay, so Jackson needs to invest in thousands of dollars worth of therapy. I could’ve told you that myself and I barely know the guy.”

“What if it has something to do with his parents? His real parents.”

“Yeah, does anybody actually know what happened to them?”

“Lydia might,” Stiles commented.

“What if she doesn’t know anything?”

“Well, he doesn’t have a restraining order against us, so we’ll talk to him,” Allison offered.

“We? As in, you and me?”

“Yeah. It’s no secret that Jackson can rarely deny a pretty face,” she teased.

“As much as I appreciate the compliment, don’t you think that the two of us randomly asking him about his parents might seem like an ambush?”

“Given that you’re well versed in the art of mindless chit chat, I think you can work it into a conversation in less than five sentences.”

“She has jokes today, huh?” She grinned. “Fine.”

“Okay, what do I do?” Scott questioned.

“You have a makeup exam, remember?” I reminded him. Allison looked at me with a questioning stare – Scott must not have told her about my visit last night. This was a conversation that would make an appearance later, and I knew it was not going to be enjoyable.

“Promise me,” she extended her hand towards Scott, choosing to ignore my knowledge of her boyfriend’s schedule.

“If he does anything, you run the other way,” he ran his thumb across the top of her fingers. “Both of you.

“I- we can take care of ourselves.”

“If you get hurt while I’m busy with some stupid test, someone’s going to need to take care of me. If he does anything….”

“Like?

“Anything weird or bizarre… anything.”

“Anything evil!” Stiles poked his head through the hole we had been talking through, Allison pushing him back from the closeness. I chortled, receiving a quick menacing stare from my cousin.

“Alright, if anything happens, we’ll run the other way. Pinky promise,” I held my pinky up and Scott reached to squeeze it with his. But Allison put hers up and intertwined it with Scott’s, leaving me to pinky promise to Stiles. The boys left the library first, random books in hand, and we followed behind a couple of minutes after.

“Everything alright, Alli?”

“Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” She smiled. “Let’s meet up at lunch to go talk to Jackson. Yeah?”

“Sure.” She smiled once more and left for her first class. I guess a jealousy conversation would have to be added to my to-do list.

Morning passed by quickly, my mind focused only on midday. Thankfully it was just the distraction I needed from last night’s dream. Once the clock hit 12 pm, Allison met up with me to follow Jackson to wherever we could stop him to talk. We waited until the halls were empty, most students already inside the cafeteria until we spotted Jackson. As soon as we noticed him, Allison bent down and took off her heels.

“What’re you doing?”

“I don’t want him to be able to hear us coming.”

“Good thing I always wear flats.”

“Whatever. Let’s just go, we can’t lose him.”

“Alright.”

Jackson kept turning into different halls, us following close behind. A few times I believed he had heard us, swiveling his head to check if anyone was behind him. Thankfully, it looked like he hadn’t noticed. Finally, it seemed he had made a beeline for the boy’s locker room.

“You just scared the hell out of me,” Matt Daehler said, coming out of the room. Allison and I jumped slightly, startled by his sudden appearance.

“Sorry, I…. we were just, we were… Nothing,” Allison chuckled.

“That’s a… nice heels.

“Yeah, my feet were hurting, so I…” She bent down and started putting her shoes back on. If Jackson was in the locker room, he knew of our presence already.

“Same reason I never wear mine.” He has jokes.

“What?”

“Uh, forget it.” Was I completely invisible?

Their conversation was quick and short and suddenly turned into a date between Matt and Allison to an underground rave on Friday.

“Did you just agree to go on a date with Matt?”

“I… um… I don’t..”

Allison was cut off from the sound of Jackson groaning from inside the locker room. Chills ran through my back, something warning me that this might not be the most sensible idea. Against my better judgment, I followed my cousin inside.

“Jackson?” She called out.

“In here,” Jackson responded from the showers. The more seconds that passed, the worse this idea seemed. Allison was sure about it though, following his voice to the back, my steps falling behind.

She reached the showers before I had and whirled back instantly mouthing the word ‘naked’.

“Something wrong?”

“You could’ve warned me.”

“You’re the one that walked into the boys’ locker room.”

“I thought I hear you… forget it.”

“Did you want to talk about something?” He noted my presence after walking out of the showers, his face holding a scary scowl.

“We can talk later,” I pulled Allison closer to me trying to add some distance between her and Jackson.

“No.” He put his hand between us, stopping our clear way to the door.

“Let’s talk now.”

“Jackson, we have to get to class.” I tried once more to pull Allison away, but he stopped us again. Normally, I was more courageous than this, but something about his stare was paralyzing.

“No, no you don’t,” he grinned. “You both have perfect grades. You can skip one class.”

“Because we don’t skip class. We’ve gotta go.”

“No.”

Allison remained quiet, hyperventilating from beside me.

“Are you okay?” Jackson stared. “Your heart’s beating like crazy.”

“I thought you wanted to talk.”

This time, Allison was the one pulling me, going around Jackson in a circle. “I… I… I changed my mind.”

“You sure? Because you look a little stressed? Why does she look stressed, (Y/N)?” He kept walking towards us as we tried our best to maintain distance between us – Allison’s grip on my wrist tightening with every step. “Is it Scott? Is it that whole thing? I still can’t believe you actually think your little Romeo and Juliet story is gonna last. You know he’s eventually just gonna run to Derek and join up with him and his little wolf pack. If you don’t realize that, then you gotta be the stupidest bitch in this town. Well, other than Scott since he’s a pretty bitch himself.”

“What’s your problem, Jackson?” I stepped between them. I knew he was only doing this to hurt her, but he was stooping far too low.

“Stop! Just stop!” Allison tugged at my arm, pulling me towards her.

“What are you gonna do, hm? When her stupid bitch of a boyfriend turns on you both?” He had me pressed against the wall, his arms at either side of me. Allison’s attempts to move his arm away from me were futile. “They killed your aunt. They almost killed Lydia. Who do you think is gonna be next?

Not you,” he turned his head to Allison. “No, no, it can’t be you, because you’re in love. Is that what you tell yourself? ‘Scott’s different and everything’s gonna work out because we’re in love.’ Well, if that’s what you believe, then you’re already dead.”

“Leave her alone, Jackson!” His attention once again was turned to me.

“You’re not safe either, (Y/N). Just because your Allison’s family won’t spare you. You’re still an Argent, I don’t think McCall will spare you if he won’t spare his little girlfriend.” His right hand lifted, exposing razor-sharp claws. At this point we were both breathing heavily, his nails hovering against my cheek. One pressed harder than the others and I could feel the sting of it piercing through my skin, warm blood spilling out. “I just… I just hope your dads have been teaching you moves to protect yourselves.”

“Actually, they have.” Allison pulled his arm away as I grabbed him by the throat, pushing him back.

But he was quicker and stronger. He tumbled Allison to the ground and fell on top of me, merely inches away from my face. Yet, once on the ground, his demeanor changed. Jackson wasn’t threatening anymore, he looked scared.

“(Y/N)?” He stumbled backward. “Allison? What are you doing here?”

Allison pulled me to her left side, pressing our backs to the wall as we watched Jackson regain consciousness and clothe himself. Then, the door opened, revealing a fuming Scott.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. Scott… Scott, I’m fine!” ,” Allison assured, but looking at a naked Jackson was not convincing enough. His eyes did soften for a second and the scene could have ended there – until I turned my head and his eyes fell on the line of blood that was dripping on my cheek.

“Scott!” I screamed. It was like he was deaf with rage. He came in running and pushed Jackson against the lockers, plummeting to the ground.

“I have a restraining order!” Jackson yelled – to him, Scott’s response might have seemed uncalled for.

“Trust me, I restrained myself.”

In testosterone fashion, the pair started fighting in the middle of the locker room, utilizing their supernatural strength to wreck the locker room more than themselves. They traveled the whole room until Jackson tossed Scott onto the hallway, where Erica and Stiles did their best to restrain them. Allison and I felt it was safe enough for us to get up and we ran to the door. We helped Stiles to hold back Scott, not an easy task for humans.

Unfortunately, walking down the hall was Mr. Harris, an authoritarian witness to the fight who decided we were all at fault for the petty fight. Detention, 3 o’clock. Jackson, Erica, Scott, Stiles, Allison, and I… and Matt. For some reason, he happened to be grouped into our collective. He seemed to now just always be there.

The last thing I wanted for the end of the day was to spend it with a room full of supernaturals, hunters, a Stiles, and… a Matt. Allison, Jackson, and Matt sat at a table; Erica sat by herself; I moved alongside Scott and Stiles to the farthest table, feeling Allison’s glare burn into me.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Scott fumed.

“No, you’re not. You’re gonna find out who’s controlling him and then you’re gonna help save him,” Stiles calmed.

“No. You were right, let’s kill him.”

“Oh, no.”

“Come on, Scott. We all know that’s not the solution. You’re just angry right now, it’ll blow over.”

“How can you say that, (Y/N)? He hurt Allison… and he hurt you.” His hand touched my cheek, cleaning away a speck of dried blood that still remained. “I’m not just angry, I’m irate.”

“That’s a Sunday word,” I chuckled. “But Allison’s fine, and I’m fine. It’s just a scratch.”

“Still, it could’ve been worse.” He fidgeted in his chair, the fury bubbling inside him leaving him restless.

“What if it’s Matt?” Stiles shifted the attention. “I mean, this whole thing comes back to the video, right?”

“Danny said that Matt was the one who found the two hours of footage missing.”

“Exactly! He’s trying to throw suspicion off himself.”

“So he makes Jackson kill Isaac’s dad, one of Argent’s hunters, and the mechanic working on your jeep?”

“Yes!”

“Why?”

“Because… he’s evil.”

“You just don’t like him.”

“The guy bugs me. I don’t know what it is.” Stiles sat back on his chair, his stare fixated on Matt. “Just look at his face.”

“Any other theories?”

“It kinda makes sense. What other reason could there be for him to suddenly always be everywhere?” I added. “Maybe if we find a connection between all the murders, we could find a connection to Matt.”

“You also don’t like him?”

“I don’t know, man. I’ve just got a bad feeling about him.”

Suddenly, Jackson walks out of the room claiming to need the bathroom and water. But Mr. Harris was right, he didn’t look too good. Of course, as a concerned teacher, he followed behind the sick student, warning us about moving from our places. So, we moved places.

The three of us went back to Erica’s table since she knew some necessary information about Jackson’s past. She explained how they had died in a car accident, how her father was the insurance investigation, and that Jackson would become a whole lot richer once he became 18. She opened the computer to search for her dad’s report when Victoria’s voice rang through the loudspeaker summoning Scott to the office. Allison and I looked at each other with worry. What could they possibly need with him?

Soon after Scott left, Jackson came back looking worse. He was sweaty and pale. Certainly looked like he was going to pass out – or shift.

“Jackson’s birthday is June 15th,” Stiles spoke. If the report was right, Jackson would have been born by C-section from his dead mother.

The afternoon seemed to be about to be cut short when we noticed Mr. Harris packing his things, assuming we could leave as well. But the sinister laugh, and the words leaving his mouth, told us otherwise. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. Yes, I’m leaving. But none of you are. You may go when you’re done with the re-shelving. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

A group groan was heard throughout as Mr. Harris only smiled and left the room. We got into groups to start working – Erica was alone; I was with Stiles and Allison, Scott joining us later; Jackson was with Matt. Stiles explained in a hushed tone the findings from the report and how everything was suspiciously uncertain.

“Then his parents could’ve been murdered?” Scott whispered. Stiles nodded.

“If they were, then it falls in line with the Kanima myth,” I interjected.

“You know? It seeks out and kills murderers.”

“But for Jackson? Or for the person controlling him?” Allison questioned.

“We have to talk to him,” Scott worried. “We have to tell him.”

“He’s not gonna…” Allison tried to stop him, but he kept walking.

Unexpectedly, the ceiling in the library starting bursting as a transitioning Jackson jumped atop the bookshelves. Allison and I fell to the ground, Stiles covering our heads. Erica screamed out in agony, signifying she had been slashed by the Kanima – it was safe to assume that Matt had also been taken down. Scott was flung across the room and landed on a cart right next to us, quickly jumping on his feet and crouching in front of the humans to protect us.

Jackson looked like a malfunctioning robot as he scribbled ‘Stay out of my way or I’ll kill all of you’ on a chalkboard. That was before he jumped on a bookshelf close to a window and crashing through one, disappearing into the parking lot. We all stood towards the blackboard, but Stiles and I noted Erica. She was seizing.

“Guys!” I called Scott and Allison’s attention. Stiles took Erica in his arms and lifted her from the ground. “I think she’s having a seizure.”

“He’s alive,” Allison went to check on Matt, had to make sure his heart was still beating.

“We need to get him to a hospital.”

“Derek, only to Derek,” Erica managed to shakily speak out.

“When we get her to the hospital…”

“To Derek,’’ Erica interrupted Scott. “To Derek.”

“She’s right. I don’t think a hospital can help her at least.”

“Go,” Allison spoke mainly to Scott.

“I’m staying here with you.”

“He can’t take her alone. Not like this. And Matt… I’ve got to call an ambulance for him, just go.”

“This doesn’t feel right.”

“It’s okay,” she reassured him.

“No, it’s not. No, it’s not right.”

“It doesn’t… It doesn’t mean anything.

“But it feels like it does.”

“Scott, go.” Scott didn’t move, he knew this was one of the decisive moments that would affect his relationship with Allison. “Go.”

“Okay,” he whispered. He pressed his lips onto her forehead, trying his best to provide a sliver of comfort to his girlfriend – whether it worked or not was something he’d have to know at a later time.

“I’ll stay with her, Scott.” I squeezed his shoulder. “Just get Erica to Derek, now.”

“No, you should go too. The fewer people as witnesses, the better. And you can handle Derek a lot better than these two.”

“That’s nonsense, Allison. I’m staying here with you,” I argued.

“You’re wasting your time in arguing with me. Just go, (Y/N).” Allison was now talking through gritted teeth.

“Fine.” There was no point in fighting Allison right now, I knew that much.

I left with Stiles and Scott, the latter carrying Erica to Stiles’ jeep. I sat in the back cradling her body from doing any more damage than the one she was going through. I ran my hand through her hair trying to soothe her a bit, but I could see in her eyes that she was scared… no, terrified.

“You’re gonna be okay, Erica. I promise.”

Before I knew it, we were at an abandoned train where we were met with Derek. Sending him that text was the right thing to do. When we got there, Derek was already waiting for us, ready to help his beta.

“Is she dying?” Stiles asked worriedly.

“She might, I… which is why this is gonna hurt.” Derek grabbed hold of Erica’s right arm and snapped it in half, digging his nails into it. Although they had supernatural healing abilities, it was not a sight or sound that I would recommend to anyone.

“You broke her arm!” We all stared in disbelief as Erica shouted at ear-shattering levels.

“It’ll trigger the healing process. I still gotta get the venom out. This is where it’s really gonna hurt,” Derek explained as he dug his nails even deeper into her arm. Blood was quickly pooling below it, gushing out from the open wound. Stiles fell back as he held her, Erica’s body growing weaker.

“Stiles…” she stared at him with kind eyes. “You make a good Batman.”

Seconds after, she passed out. It seemed that the worst part was now over and what she needed most was rest. Derek got up and Scott followed behind; Stiles stayed with Erica; I stayed by the train opening listening in on the werewolves’ conversation.

“You know who it is.” Scott wasn’t asking a question – he knew for a fact that Derek now had the knowledge.

“Jackson.”

“You just wanted Erica to confirm it, didn’t you?” Derek nodded. “I’m gonna help you stop him. As part of your pack.”

“Scott, no,” I whispered. Derek’s eyes darted to mine for a second, rapidly replaced by a questioning stare toward Scott. “If you want me in, fine. But we’ll do it on one condition. We’re gonna catch him, not kill him.”

“And?”

“And we do it my way.”

Derek uncharacteristically agreed to Scott’s terms, there’s strength in numbers and they would need all the power they could muster. Now that Erica seemed to stabilize, we decided it would be a good time to all go home.

“(Y/N), wait up,” Derek shouted. The three of us stopped in our tracks, startled by Derke’s voice.

“You guys go ahead, I’ll catch up.”

“Are you sure?”

“She’ll be fine, Scott.” His eyes darted to me, and I nodded in agreeance with Derek.

“It’ll be quick.” Scott and Stiles nodded and headed to the Jeep as Derek pulled me away from Scott’s super-hearing distance. “What’s up?”

“What happened to your face?” His fingers grazed the cut on my cheek, concern filling his eyes.

“Small altercation with Jackson, nothing too bad. I’m fine.”

“You could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“And the sky could fall down – two scenarios that did not occur,” I chuckled. “Anything else?”

“You know what else.”

“Enlighten me, please.”

“What happened this morning?”

“I already told you nothing was going on,” I groaned. “Why are you still pressing on?”

“(Y/N), I can tell that you’re lying.”

“My heart’s just racing because of the adrenaline. I’m not lying.”

“What about this morning?”

“I was running.”

“Your heart doesn’t race that much when you run. You’re also heavily avoiding eye contact, and you haven’t stopped picking at your right thumb.” He grabbed my hand to stop me from doing the subconscious action I had not noticed. “What’s wrong?”

“That’s not fair, I don’t have the unnatural abilities you have,” I protested. “I just… it’s just… ugh, I don’t know how to say it. And I don’t want to do this right now. I need to go check up on Allison, she’s gonna be pretty shaken. I just can’t right now.”

“(Y/N), please, just talk to me. Don’t shut me out again.”

“I won’t I just can’t right now, Derek.” I stared into his green eyes, trying my best to plead with my face rather than my words. His gaze softened, like he understood that it wasn’t an easy topic to talk about and I needed some space.

“Fine, then at least promise me you’ll talk to me when you have the time.”

“I promise. I’ll see you, Derek.”

He finally let me go and I made my way to the blue jeep that roared stagnant, waiting for my arrival. Scott and Stiles followed my figure with their eyes until I was in the car, where they turned and quickly questioned.

“What’s up with you two?” Stiles started.

“Nothing.”

“That,” Scott pointed. “Didn’t look like nothing.”

“Seriously guys, it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

“If it has to do with Derek, we’re concerned.” Stiles sat back on the driver’s seat, finally rolling the car out of the place.

“Seriously, (Y/N). Derek is not someone you’d wanna get too close to.”

“Thanks for the concern, Scott. But I’ll decide that for myself.” I could feel the tension growing in the small space, and it wasn’t something I wanted to deal with right now. “Let’s just drop the topic, please?”

“Alright, just be careful, okay? Promise?”

“I promise, Scott,” I smiled. “Can you drop me off at Allison’s, Stiles? I wanna check up on her.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Can you text me how she is? I’m pretty sure her mom knows we’re still together.”

“How?”

“When she called me into the office, she insinuated as much.”

“Took long enough for them to figure it out. Be careful, Scott. If I know anything about my family, it’s that you don’t want to be on their bad side. Well, the worst side.”

“You’ve really gotten yourself buried quite deep, haven’t you Scotty boy?”

“It’s not funny, Stiles.”

“It’s a bit funny, Scott.”

Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region @sunshine-flower@lilstanxd @sunsetcurvej @malar-region @heyitsaloy

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gra-sonas · 3 years

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ENTERTAINMENT WEEKLY: Was the year time jump because of the pandemic? To sidestep making that too central to the plot, or was that always the plan?

JEANINE MASON: That was always our intention and it was just sort of a saving grace in that way. We also don't acknowledge the pandemic in real-time on our show. There are no masks and that was just so wonderful just to get work in that way and have that time where it was a little more normal. Also, that's just our show — we want you to come to us the way you always do, which is for nineties nostalgia, sexy Cowboys, brilliant scientists, you know? CHRIS HOLLIER: So we wanted to drop our characters in a year later, let them stew in their individual decisions that were made last season. We want everyone to root for our poster couple but we want to honor what happens in real life, which is sometimes you step away from that person, even if you are entwined with them in a very particular way. So we wanted it to be a real enough time and distance so that they could live a little life on their own.

With showrunner Carina Adly MacKenzie departing at the end of season 2, has much changed? Or are you still working with ideas she had in place?'

HOLLIER: It's a little bit of both. There are things that Carina and I built that live all the way through and then once the story got up on its feet, discoveries were made with our new crop of people that we were like, "Oh, we're going to bend it this other way."

Jeanine, how is Liz doing in her new life in L.A. when we pick up this season?

MASON: Well, it's been a year and at this point, her life is actually pretty great. She just hasn't taken a second to acknowledge that. She's doing what she does best, which is just full head in her work and trying to figure out what she could use of her discoveries and her brilliance to save Maria. She has a great job, a really nice place, and an awesome partner at work who is a good time and a real match for her in terms of intellect and ambition. He begins to ask her to recognize that and to maybe give something a chance that she's been reluctant to because of how drawn she is to Roswell and to Max. It's a fun first episode. It's sexy. It's fun to find opportunities for her. She's our hero so she's got a lot on her shoulders and anytime where we can find levity for her is always a real treat for the writers and for me.

And no Crashdown waitress uniform must be nice?

MASON: Honestly, I miss it quite a lot right now. I have a note in my notes with Chris, I'm like, "I gotta tell him we gotta find him more opportunities for it."

Should Liz and Max shippers be worried about them finding their way back to one another after he destroyed her work and didn't follow her to L.A.? Should we resign ourselves to a season apart?

MASON: This season really is about these characters having themselves mirrored to each other. Max and Liz need some growing and ultimately they can't do anything but be orbiting each other. We found so many opportunities to have such a beautiful language around the cosmic element of their connection. They're asking, "Is this our decision, or are we just acting off of a decision that the cosmos made for us?" It was so fun to navigate that. I always have such a good time with Chris Hollier and with Nathan Dean, just finding the little tiny notches, a tiny bit of movement towards where they're going next. I really loved following them. It's my favorite Max and Liz season to date.

HOLLIER: It's not a season apart. I'll tease that they, in an unexpected way, end up in front of each other relatively soon. But it's really about when am I ready? And what does it mean to talk to my ex? When someone makes such a big influence in your life, when do you know it's over and when do you know you should fight again? We tried to give them real grown-up lives.

Steven Krueger (The Originals) also joined the cast as Heath this season. What can you tease about his character?

HOLLIER: He's just an awesome human being. I know him from The Originals and we were like, "If we're going to have to be stuck with people in the desert, who do we want?" You want to be stuck with a handsome and lovely and charming Steven Krueger. So really this was looking at, "Well, what did Liz want and what does it look like when you start to give Liz versions of what she wants?" Heath is somebody that is beyond being just a lovely person, he is smart and wants to advance science and that's appealing to Liz. It becomes, "What does it look like when the man that I hang around with all day is also into the same things that I am?" MASON: I love him. Heath is just such a fun, whip-smart, fantastic character. His humor was so fun. We've been having a good time with kicking the humor up really through season two and in season three, we just took it up another notch. There are some moments that are like, "Is this a drama or is it a sitcom?" Looking back on it, he was such a fun partner to spar with. They're both such intellectual characters and I love that there's a real meeting of the minds. It makes it competitive and sexy. I know a lot of fans are so excited because they know him from The Originals and he's going to be a great addition.

Technically, Mr. Jones is a new character too. Can you tell us anything at all about him?

HOLLIER: I'd say he's a new character — and a fully-fleshed interesting new character. Mr. Jones has an awesome beard. At some point, he might lose that beard. A lot of people are asking me, "Is Jones good or bad?" And what I would argue is that's a perspective based upon who you are in the conversation that you're having with him. He knows a lot about our heroes' story and he knows a lot about home. He'll be able to answer questions for them. This season our heroes will get to learn why they ended up here on earth. One of the things I think that people will love is that they're going to get to see that home planet this year. We asked ourselves a lot about this whole season, "What have we set up for the past two?" We look at these first three seasons almost like a trilogy so a lot of things are going to be paid off.

Has Nathan enjoyed pulling double duty this season? Or is he just exhausted?

MASON: He's exhausted, but he's such a champ. That really is the beginning of this mirroring thing that starts with Max and Jones with him actually getting to look at himself to a degree and those questions that come up. The self-analysis that it provokes in him is really the beginning of what is happening to all of our characters this year; everybody's being confronted with themselves. I loved that the Max/Jones of it was also a real sci-fi element.

Did he really grow that beard or was that not possible if he had to go between the two characters?

MASON: That was a prosthetic beard and our makeup team killed it. He was not accustomed to early mornings, which, of course, all of us babes are. It was a lot of extra time in the chair for him.

Can Jones dupe Liz into thinking he's actually Max since she doesn't know he exists?

MASON: You're totally on to something. It's a real and pressing threat. I mean, she's totally in the dark and he looks like her cosmic lover!

HOLLIER: What I will say is that, Liz — beyond her being number one on the call sheet — is integral to this story in a way that she and none of our characters are going to perceive when they start episode one. We're bringing [the characters] to a new crossroads moment in their lives and they're getting, through Jones, a mirror into their own lives to decide what they're going to become next.

How's Rosa (Amber Midthunder) doing this season?

MASON: By the end of season two, Rosa really makes the decision to start taking care of herself. She really becomes an incredible asset to the Scooby-Doo gang. It's something that Liz is in constant adjustment to. As much as she's the younger sister, she feels very protective of her sister and Liz has had to make adjustments in her trust and faith in Rosa. I loved it because it just felt like a real personal, authentic thing that sisters would go through, but also that Hispanic sisters would go through. I think we sometimes, culturally, have a tendency to baby our women — maybe that's the wrong word — but just to underestimate their physical ability and what they might take on, and sort of 'queen' our women in a way where we treat them tenderly. I hate that. I'm a tough bitch and so is Rosa. So Liz has to confront that and go, "I'm an idiot to underestimate you. You've done nothing but prove me wrong."

What about Maria and her visions?

HOLLIER: This year I think Maria has the most complete arc of any season, as she recognizes things about herself that cause more questions about who she is, who her family is, how she's linked to this story. We dive into it in the present-day and we dive deliciously back in time too.

In the exclusive clip above we see her have a vision of a funeral, can you tease anything about who potentially might be about to die?

HOLLIER: Maria is front and center in driving the first half of the mystery for us. She's burdened with trying to figure out whose death she is seeing. It takes a few episodes to unravel and we use it to ask, is this linked to our supernatural stories or real-world stories that are going on politically? Is it bad luck? Is it herself? There's a whole gambit at play. We joke that we solved a past murder, now we're going to try to stop one.

Can Malex (Michael and Alex) shippers have hope that this might finally be their time?

HOLLIER: What I would say is that I think that Malex fans are really going to dig this journey. We, as writers, put them at the same level of importance as Max and Liz. So we wanted to really honor the next step in what they may or may not be. How did they grow up and how did they have those hard conversations just like Liz and Max are going to have?

Is Isobel going to continue to date women this season?

HOLLIER: Isobel is going to go on a more personal journey. You got to love yourself before you can love someone else. We lean into those possibilities by the end of who she might love. It's not something that is dropped all season — it is something that you'll see. We play some romantic comedy stuff with her character this year and with Maria that I think fans are gonna dig. There's a lot going on in the world and wanted to pump some humor and hope into it.

Will see more of Liz fighting to challenge the perception of the Latinx community?

MASON: I think that just by nature of it being one of such few shows that are led by a Latin woman, it's always going to be, to an extent, a protest or an assertion of the space that I get to fill and that Liz Ortecho gets to fill on network TV. I was really excited to just have Chris as a collaborator. Over our hiatus, before the season started, I was doing a lot of reading. I chronicled the books that play into Liz every season on my Instagram. I was reading some Sonia Sotomayor. Her book is just incredible. I was texting him screenshots of pages of the book with things underlined. Ten episodes deep into season 3, he's like, "Remember that page you sent me?" He's a real dream collaborator. I loved him for that. A pressing struggle for people of color is going through the ranks in these big corporations and then sometimes coming to find out that those corporations are purporting to support marginalized groups but actually aren't following through. So how do you, as someone who's having your success, your dreams become reality, navigate supporting the company and giving so much of your intelligence and your work — that they often legally own, especially with science — to a company that isn't going to be for your people?

Roswell, New Mexico returns Monday at 8 p.m. on The CW.

#long post is long #jeanine mason #chris hollier #liz ortecho #max evans #echo #isobel evans #rosa ortecho #malex #alex manes #michael guerin #rnm spoilers #maria deluca #rnm cast interviews #roswell new mexico s3 #roswell new mexico

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zintranslations · 3 years

Text

Kaleidoscope of Death, Extra 3

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Extra: Shameless Couple (2)

Ruan Nanzhu's stint as an actor was purely for fun, so nobody took the matter very seriously. But months later, as Ruan Nanzhu sat around bored at home with nothing to do, he got a call from Zhang Yiqing. The movie was premiering, and Zhang Yiqing sent him two free tickets for him to go have a look.

Tickets in hand, Ruan Nanzhu invited Lin Qiushi to go see the movie together. The two arrived happily at the theater, Lin Qiushi bought a bucket of popcorn, and they sat down in the audience.

The movie was a hundred minutes total; Lin Qiushi didn't have high expectations coming in, but afterwards, he was completely blown away. Though Zhang Yiqing had been an actor and had never gone through an official director’s program, he obviously had quite a lot of talent in the realm of directing. At least, the techniques he used to shoot this wuxia film that Ruan Nanzhu got a cameo in were good enough to provoke cheers and applause.

Ruan Nanzhu, playing the prince in the movie, was also exceptional.

But after they watched it, that was that. Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu went home without thinking too much on the matter, until the next day when Lin Qiushi opened up his social media and saw that Ruan Nanzhu's character was trending…He didn't understand such things very well. He clicked into the tag and found many people gushing about Ruan Nanzhu's acting and good looks, and asking how come they'd not seen this new actor before. No one thought that this new guy with so few lines would be so eye-catching.

Lin Qiushi woke the bleary-eyed Ruan Nanzhu and pushed the phone in front of his face.

"Nanzhu, are you famous?"

Ruan Nanzhu opened his eyes and peered once at the phone screen before pushing Lin Qiushi down into bed again. He kissed Lin Qiushi's chin and said, "forget about that…"

Lin Qiushi, "oh…"

Ruan Nanzhu had little actual concept of himself going viral, so when he was having lunch with Lin Qiushi one day, he was actually pretty irritated to get Zhang Yiqing's phone call.

"I'm just a minor side character," he said, "why should I go on your publicity tour? What? Blacklist me? Did you take the wrong meds this morning? I'm not even in the industry, blacklist me all you want—"

Lin Qiushi listened at the side and found it funny, but then Zhang Yiqing said something at the end, and Ruan Nanzhu actually stopped refusing. Brows furrowing, he looked up once at Lin Qiushi before agreeing to Zhang Yiqing's request to go on a publicity tour with him and the cast.

After hanging up, Ruan Nanzhu said that Zhang Yiqing wanted him to go do publicity for a bit of time.

"Go," Lin Qiushi said. "But if you really dislike it, don't force yourself. We lack for nothing."

"Mh." Ruan Nanzhu nodded, taking Lin Qiushi's words to heart.

After that, Lin Qiushi's projects got busy as well, and he didn't have the time to pay attention to developments around Ruan Nanzhu's movie. The point at which he realized Ruan Nanzhu was well and truly famous was when he discovered that a young employee had switched her desktop screensaver to a picture of Ruan Nanzhu. Lin Qiushi had even thought he'd been seeing things at first, pointing at the screensaver and asking the girl, "who's this?"

The girl turned to Lin Qiushi with an expression of excitement and began a fanatic recommendation of Ruan Nanzhu, saying how this was a super popular newcomer named Yu Qiuqiu, and not only was he good looking but is acting was also amazing!

Lin Qiushi, "…" Alright alright, enough already. I know exactly how amazing his acting is.

That night, Lin Qiushi stared thoughtfully at Ruan Nanzhu, who was in his pajamas in the kitchen, watching TV.

Ruan Nanzhu noticed Lin Qiushi's gaze. He turned around to ask, "what is it?"

Lin Qiushi, "Nanzhu…"

Ruan Nanzhu, "hm?"

Lin Qiushi, "are you famous?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "famous? What do you mean?"

Seeing his bewildered expression, Lin Qiushi had no choice but to change his wording: "Is Yu Qiuqiu famous?" And this bastard even debuted with his pseudonym.

Ruan Nanzhu slapped a hand to his thigh. "Yeah! Our Qiuqiu is super famous! Zhang Yiqing recommended me to his friends trying to make me the main character—"

Lin Qiushi, "isn't that a good thing?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "how is it a good thing? If I'm making movies I have to run around all the time. I can't keep you company like that."

Lin Qiushi thought about it.

"But you're just doing it for fun, so you don't have to worry about all that. You don't have to film if you don't want to. If you're tired you can just take a break." Other stars may have burdens, but Ruan Nanzhu didn't.

"Okay then," Ruan Nanzhu agreed. Then he seemed to recall something. "Right. The newcomer from Obsidian came to set a couple of times. I ignored him, but tell Ye Niao that if he keeps coming, I might not be able to handle it."

It took Lin Qiushi a long while to remember the existence of this person—it seemed to be the newcomer coveting Ruan Nanzhu for his good looks, who was under the impression that Lin Qiushi had taken Ruan Nanzhu by force.

He asked, "what do you mean by not being able to handle it?"

Ruan Nanzhu, "I might not be able to handle it and end up decking him, of course."

Lin Qiushi, "…"

The facts were, after being baptized by the doors, their bodies had all become stronger than those of normal people. This was the case for Lin Qiushi. He'd thought at first that he would be around Ruan Nanzhu's level, but then one evening, he’d discovered that he wasn't Ruan Nanzhu's opponent at all. Ruan Nanzhu, who'd wanted to try some fun little technique, restrained Lin Qiushi with ease; a single hand was all it took to pressed both of Lin Qiushi's above their heads. That hand that looked as pale and delicate as jade had felt just like a metal shackle, and no matter how Lin Qiushi struggled, it hadn’t budge an inch.

Also, every time he picked Lin Qiushi up to go wash, Ruan Nanzhu could lift him, a healthy grown adult male, in one arm.

Afterthis discovery, Lin Qiushi had laughed at himself for worrying about Ruan Nanzhu getting mistreated outside—Lin Qiushi counted all of them lucky that Ruan Nanzhu wasn’t mistreating people.

"Don't worry about it." For the above reasons, Lin Qiushi said as much. "If he really annoys you, do what you must."

Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

Just a few days after they'd discussed the matter, Lin Qiushi went to check in on Ruan Nanzhu at work. Ruan Nanzhu was filming a modern movie this time, and played a handsome serial killer in the script. Lin Qiushi thought this character setting rather suited Ruan Nanzhu.

He was waiting on the curbside at first. But then his ears caught onto a strange noise. It sounded like a person…keening. Lin Qiushi heard this, and his brows puckered. He turned and looked into a small, dark alley. The film was being shot in the studio backlot, which was complicated and filled with architecture of various styles. So naturally, there were plenty of out-of-the-way spots that the cameras can't capture.

Just as Lin Qiushi was wondering if he ought to take a look, he heard Ruan Nanzhu's voice.

And Ruan Nanzhu sounded a bit dark, a bit scratchy, when he said, "feels good?"

Lin Qiushi, "…"

He padded silently to the entrance of the alley and saw Ruan Nanzhu standing inside. There was another person kneeling in front of Ruan Nanzhu. Though it was dark enough that Lin Qiushi couldn't really make out the other person's face, the scene before him wasn't anywhere as raunchy as he'd imagined.

That person was lying on the ground like a dead dog. Ruan Nanzhu heard his footsteps and turned around, and when he saw Lin Qiushi, he hung a faint smile up where a cold expression had previously been. His motions were natural as he rolled down his sleeves, approaching Lin Qiushi.

"What brings you here?"

Lin Qiushi glanced at the man hanging on his last breath lying on the floor.

"He's not dead, is he?"

"Of course not, I know when to stop." Ruan Nanzhu came over, seeming like a sweet and adorable big kitty, as if the icy ruthlessness from before had all been an illusion. "We'll call him an ambulance. He'll be fine."

"I…I'm calling the cops…" The person's call from the ground was as faint as a mosquito's. "You…you hit me…"

It was only then that Lin Qiushi identified this person. Wasn't this the newcomer from Obsidian that Ruan Nanzhu had mentioned only a few days ago? Lin Qiushi hadn't expected the guy to still be harassing Ruan Nanzhu, and had apparently pissed Ruan Nanzhu off enough to get beaten up so badly that not even his own mother could recognize him.

Man, how complicated his feelings must have been when a single slap from Ruan Nanzhu, who’d seemed like nothing more than a little white bunny, was enough to take him down.

Lin Qiushi said, "if he still has the strength to threaten us, then we probably don't need to call an ambulance."

Ruan Nanzhu, "no need. I avoided all the vital areas—'tis all just flesh wounds."

Lin Qiushi nodded, fished out his phone, and gave Ye Niao a call. Ye Niao was furious. He said he was on his way and urged Lin Qiushi not to be angry.

After Lin Qiushi hung up he lifted Ruan Nanzhu's hand.

"You're not hurt, are you?"

"I am," Ruan Nanzhu pouted. "Look, it's injured."

Lin Qiushi searched the hand all over at this, and finally found a single patch of broken skin no bigger than his pinky. He looked back at the man beaten to a pulp beside them, then back at the wound on the back of Ruan Nanzhu's hand. Finally, he couldn't hold in his laughter anymore.

"You're so…"

Laughter also surfaced in Ruan Nanzhu's eyes.

Ye Niao came quickly and dragged that person off like he was dragging out the trash. Before he left he even apologized to Lin Qiushi for his poor judgment and for choosing such a person…

Lin Qiushi said, "don't worry about it. Everybody makes mistakes."

The matter pretty much ended there. Lin Qiushi never saw that person again, and no police ever came to bother them. Ye Niao took neat care of the matter.

"They didn't give you a hard time, did they?" This was what Lin Qiushi asked Ruan Nanzhu after they got home.

Ruan Nanzhu, in response, "who's they?"

Lin Qiushi, "the cast and crew, of course."

Ruan Nanzhu slid off in thought. "They think I'm being kept by some heavy hitter, and mess around with the mob…"

Lin Qiushi, "…"

Ruan Nanzhu, "so, they're actually pretty respectful?"

At this, Lin Qiushi didn't know for a moment whether he ought to laugh or cry. Ruan Nanzhu himself was the heaviest hitter—why would he possibly be the kept boy of one? But since he liked to act so much, there was no harm in Lin Qiushi playing along. They still had a long time together, after all. There were plenty of things for them to try.

Ruan Nanzhu scooted close to Lin Qiushi, setting his chin on Lin Qiushi's shoulder and mumbling something about being sleepy. Lin Qiushi stroked his hair like he was petting a giant cat. This animal, when tamed, seemed just like an overgrown kitty, but if you actually pissed him off, he was actually a ruthless beast.

But this was a beast that would never extend its claws at Lin Qiushi, was all.

Translator’s Note:

The term translated as “heavy hitter” here, 大佬, has actually appeared often in the text. It’s a slang term that kind of means “the big guy,” as in the boss, the one with the most experience, etc. RNZ gets called this a lot, especially in the Hako Onna door.

[Extra: Shameless Couple(1)] | [Extra: Twin Lives, Twin Deaths(1)]

#kaleidoscope of death #xi zixu #cnovel #chinese translation #死亡萬花筒

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humanwheatleyslefttoenail · 3 years

Text

Now I Am An Arsonist

Chapter 1: The Spark

Summary: GLaDOS learns a few things about love, hate, and the human condition.

Tags: Canon typical violence, ChellDOS, human!GLaDOS, found family

A/N: I know technically I published this a while back but I did some major edits to both the chapters I’ve already written and the story as a whole. As promised, I’m re-releasing what I already have with the edits/illustrations.

---

The tests, at least, hadn’t changed.

The centuries had washed over them like a dawdling stream, dragging them down into an overgrown abyss. Even then, the moon dust had stayed firmly adhered to the portal surfaces, the metal doors still creaking and the ceiling still intact. Eons of rain had barely even permeated its surface.

She remembered those years with profound regret; dying was not as peaceful as the science would suggest. For a machine like Her, death was nothing more than a shift of programming, a new prerogative. Her backup program had been an endless recall, restarting Her systems over and over again, trying to salvage something. In each of those moments, GLaDOS could feel the scorching heat from the incinerator, the electricity burning through her body before everything went dark.

Still, without dying, GLaDOS never would’ve fully appreciated how soothing, how wonderful it was to test.

She remembered the urge to solve, to do Science, clawing within Her even as She broke into a thousand pieces.

Those tests were Her art forms, Her self-expression. Every arrangement of deadly turrets, each layout of gleaming lasers and the perfectly calculated solution felt like a piece of Her soul turned reality.

Now, those tests were better than ever.

Every inch of moss had been thoroughly scrubbed, walls repaired, and acid pits replaced. All except for the grave of Old Aperture beneath Her was now newly outfitted, perfect for the humans P-Body and Atlas had located.

These, of course, hadn’t been the first ones they’d found.

The first batch of humans lasted a measly week, quickly killed by some of Her easiest tests. Even with reminders, the acid is deadly, the turrets are live, they’d failed within a few chambers.

Disappointing.

As a result, Atlas and P-Body had been deployed on a new mission. She’d been overjoyed when they’d bravely traveled all the way to the bottom of Old Aperture, and found even more humans preserved in cryosleep.

This time would surely be better.

All obstacles finally removed, science could continue.

GLaDOS could not smile, but if She could, She was certain that a grin would reach across her faceplate.

Today was a momentous day for technology, for the advancement of Aperture Science. It was as if She’d sent a man to the moon, and he’d come back with the theory of everything.

Originally, of course, Her plans had been different. The difficulties with Chell had worn down Her admiration for human data, and prompted her to come up with a replacement.

The Cooperative Testing initiative was infinitely more of a success than GLaDOS ever thought it would be. Atlas and P-Body were built to test, but She had still been surprised how those little androids with so much personality had managed to be so efficient.

Atlas and P-Body had overcome their own confidence through their excellent teamwork. The knowledge that they depended on a partner humbled them, and the idea of a common goal incentivized them. GLaDOS wished She’d thought of such an idea sooner.

Still, there was something about human testing, something She couldn’t quantify, something that wasn’t quite the same with robots. Humans had a particular spark, and without it, testing never felt complete.

Today would finally be the day She could put all mistakes behind Her. GLaDOS was sure She’d see that all of the other humans would prove Her experience with Chell to be exactly what She knew it was.

Bad science.

GLaDOS had learned from Her errors.

She knew for certain that She would not repeat them.

---

It’d been extraordinarily difficult to move the test subjects from Old Aperture all the way to the newly renovated Relaxation Center, with entire teams of robots struggling to reconnect Her control over the condemned area. Their work easily took a week to complete as they rewired the dilapidated circuits, barely restoring function. GLaDOS took what She could get, and rewarded their achievement with immediate, merciful destruction.

When the humans had been successfully relocated, anxiety filled Her servos as She scanned the cryo-chambers. Upon reading the results, She found herself pleasantly surprised. Good physical condition for hundreds of years in stasis. Relatively low rates of severe brain damage. Nothing particularly concerning in their associate files. Had Her comprehension not been perfect, She would’ve done a double take. After all this time, She had something that She could work with.

Atlas and P-Body would have to wait until they were needed again, their consciousness safely stored in Her mainframe. Her processors hummed with excitement as She prepared for the awakening of the first humans, buzzing with hypotheses to test.

What would be Her experiment this time? GLaDOS scrolled through Her endless lists of deadly trials.

She hadn’t used rocket turrets in a while; those weren’t as efficient as the regular ones but were always a surprise for Her unwilling participants. With only a thought, She placed the machines inside a few chambers, lining them up in a neat, strategically placed array. Companion cubes would be a definite no, at least for the first few tests. There were occasions when the humans became so deprived for social connection that their behavior would influence the results. In order to better control the experiment, She’d deploy them only in emergencies like these.

With those exceptions, and the addition of a floor to some of the more difficult levels, the chambers didn’t require too much preparation. GLaDOS had nothing particularly new to add; for so long Her energy had been focused on Atlas and P-Body that development had nearly come to a standstill. Regrettably, She’d been deprived of ideas. It didn’t matter too much; the facility remained operational even if it wasn’t constantly progressing. Even the replication of old results was invaluable for science.

It confirmed that the trends hadn’t changed.

---

The files of the subjects were all very much the same.

Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Praying mantis, formerly scientist.

Occasionally, She’d find the elusive Astronaut, War Hero or even Olympian.

She was tempted to begin the testing with these special cases, curiosity piqued at the prospect of their odd results. GLaDOS chastised Herself. She didn’t want to skew anything, and She would surely begin with a normal subject chosen at random. It wasn’t the most interesting thing to test, but it would be the most informative.

With the chambers compiled and the facility clean, testing was finally ready to start.

She almost couldn’t believe it. All technicalities aside, She was finally, finally, getting exactly what She wanted. For as long as She needed to, for as long as the subjects lasted, She could just test.

It couldn’t be real, could it?

That was the most beautiful thing about science. For all its disappointments, a discovery would be worth it all.

---

“Hello, and welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided testing program.”

Her voice resounded throughout the Extended Relaxation Vault as the subject stumbled across the room in disbelief.

“The Enrichment Center would like to take this opportunity to remind you that hundreds of years have passed, and that all of your friends and family are most likely dead. In the off chance that your friends and family are not dead, they will be tested. Thank you, [insert subject name here], for your unwilling voluntary participation in the advancement of science.”

The subject, an adult human male, selfishly resolved to huddle in the corner of the relaxation chamber. Of course, he was either brain damaged, in shock, or both. In order to assuage his gentle human feelings, GLaDOS would have to resume Her telling of… alternative truths.

GLaDOS wasn’t entirely sure what She’d said wrong. Honestly, She was surprised the subject didn’t appreciate Her integrity. After all, Chell hadn’t exactly taken kindly to Her tendency towards pathological lying. Here She was, trying to improve the well-being of Her subjects, and this was how they thanked Her?

“Hello, again, valued forced participant. The Aperture Science Enrichment Center commends you for your blind faith in the words of authority. As part of routine testing protocol, we have lied to you about the fate of your family and friends. When the testing is complete, you will receive cake and the opportunity to… see them. Your response has given us valuable psychological data on the well-being of our test subjects when told that all of their friends and family are dead.”

GLaDOS paused for a moment, focusing Her camera in the chamber and watching as the man lifted his head from his upright fetal position.

“Good. You’ve already passed one of the first stages of testing. Congratulations, [insert subject name here].”

As much as it felt wrong to use, positive reinforcement was highly effective when employed sparingly. Too many attacks on character could obliterate a subject’s morale. Just enough would account for the variable of human hubris.

Cautiously, the subject stood up and examined the room around him, fear still apparent in his apprehensive gait and wide eyes.

“In order to mentally reinvigorate you for the tests and to ensure your aptitude, the Enrichment Center recommends that you stare at the painting on the wall in front of you.”

Creeping over to the portrait, the subject followed Her orders and stared intently at the picture of Mount Rainier. He ran his fingers over the edge of the frame, tracing the tall peak of the mountain.

Interrupting his thoughts, a buzzer sounded, blaring throughout the entire room. The subject flinched from the surprise, nearly losing his balance.

“Good job. If you are not reinvigorated, consider this piece of human music.”

This time, the human expected the buzzer after the quick classical piece, seemingly more at ease with the abrupt nature of Aperture Science. In all reactions, he was completely, almost painfully average.

“Well done. You have completed the Aperture Science mental reinvigoration procedure. We may now begin testing.”

Without warning, the chamber jerked to the side as She moved it to a nearby docking station, then coming to an unexpected standstill as the door automatically opened.

GLaDOS could barely maintain Her monotonous affect, in joyous denial that testing would finally start.

Carefully, the human stepped out of the door into the test track. The door slammed behind him, as he examined the purely white room with nothing but a cube, a large button, and a locked gateway.

Almost immediately, he wrapped the blue storage cube in his arms, then gently placed it on the button. A line of blue lights leading to the gate illuminated, flashing a bright yellow as the door slid open. A lift was waiting on the other side.

As he sauntered over to the lift, it was difficult to miss the human’s triumphant smile. GLaDOS knew the expression well; it was satisfaction, victory, an unproven sense of control.

He really does have no idea.

She was tempted to spoil the ending, to mention turrets, to mention pools of burning acid. It had to wait, She reminded herself. An important control was that the test subject needed time to acclimate to a dangerous environment. Creating unnecessary fear would definitely affect her numbers.

---

The next few puzzles weren’t particularly challenging for Her first subject. Completed within a span of about ten minutes each, the first five chambers were hardly difficult for anyone. That much She’d expected.

On Her end, everything else was normal. She hardly spoke Her mind, instead opting to repeat the same script She used for every subject.

Did you know you can donate one or all of your vital organs to the Aperture Science Self-Esteem Fund for Girls? It’s true!

You have completed the test in a moderate amount of time. You can do better, [insert subject name here].

The Aperture Science Enrichment Center reminds you that we prioritize your safety. We also prioritize science. In fact, we prioritize science more, but if you feel unsafe in our unsafe conditions, please notify a testing associate. They will process your complaint in three-to-five business days.

Like most subjects, the man had not volunteered to give up his organs nor asked for an associate. Instead, he responded to most of Her passive-aggressive quips with useless questions. She did not reply, passing them off as typical human blabbering. Rather, She recorded them in his file underneath a new section She labeled Overly-Talkative: Examples. There was plenty to jot down.

Uh, robot lady? When can I go home?

So, uh, what kinda cake is it? Like, I don’t really mind the flavor but I’m allergic to almonds if that’s relevant.

How long does this last, again?

I kinda like my organs, sorry. Wait, is the organ thing required?

Once again, pitifully average.

It was times like these, whether with humans or with Atlas and P-Body, that GLaDOS caught Her mind wandering towards forbidden thoughts. Science was not always supposed to be exciting; sometimes, running an experiment meant repeating the same process to verify the data. The result was satisfying, but the process was more often not.

This human epitomized the dullest parts of her day.

As informative as the humans could be, they were often far from entertaining. Every behavior could be predicted and rationalized once it’d been observed enough.

Chell, though?

Oh, sure, GLaDOS was terrified of her, no matter how much She’d deny the feeling. No subject had ever left the track before.

But Chell didn’t just survive. She’d escaped from the tests, she’d found Her chamber, she’d murdered Her with little else than a portal device. Twice.

Her ego was as vast as the realm of Aperture, but it would never recover from that spectacular injury. Even GLaDOS had to be humbled by that.

And yet, with morbid curiosity, She had eagerly anticipated Chell’s next plans, laying traps in scheming delight. For the first time in Her life, She’d been challenged.

It was an odd little game they’d played, and whenever She was close to getting the upper hand, a part of Her was disappointed that the chase would be over. There was something delightful about watching the peculiar way that Chell and Chell alone tested.

When Doug Rattman had switched Chell’s file, GLaDOS was not so oblivious as not to notice. She’d clearly read the bottom of the paper, firmly requesting that this subject not be tested. GLaDOS had other tenacious subjects before, and She’d simply assumed that this human was particularly overconfident. Those ones never lasted too long.

Chell was not, as She’d thought, only determined.

She was curious, changing variables one by one until she finally found the answer. Her patience was remarkable, but so were her deductive skills. Some test subjects with similar tenacity levels resolved to try the same solutions over and over again, exhausting themselves and eventually burning out. It was the reason why GLaDOS typically ignored the warnings. Most humans labeled ‘tenacious’ weren’t too different in the end. The key for Chell was not simple defiance. Chell could control herself. That’s why she was such an outlier.

She had the mentality of a scientist.

Most subjects were cautious, prioritizing self-preservation over a solution. Turret levels could be aggravating for GLaDOS to watch, as the humans spent more time hiding behind a corner in fear than actually solving the test. They would be safe if they’d just strategized, but the human mind made accepting that fact a difficult feat.

Chell was the opposite. GLaDOS theorized that perhaps, Chell understood the same principle She did. Chell was scared like any other, but despite her pounding heart and racing thoughts, she’d kept her cool. Any new element was only a matter of adaptation for Chell, and Chell was always evolving.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Chell was an optimist, often performing pointless tasks that could only be described as trying to have fun. GLaDOS gave her lemons, and Chell made lemonade.

Chell would smile as she soared, launched from the aerial faith plates, and took her time to explore the little rooms hidden in the corners of the tests. There was one time she’d put off the completion of one puzzle by nearly an hour, hiding out in one of Doug’s rat dens, fascinated by all the little cups and cans he’d arranged.

It would be a lie to say that Chell liked testing. Her episodes made it clear that escape was Chell’s first priority. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the small glimmers of hope GLaDOS gave her, whether that was bouncing on repulsion gel, saving a defective turret or smuggling a companion cube.

After Wheatley took over, one of the more terrifying aspects of the whole journey was being stuck on Chell’s gun. Chell was a risk taker, building her strategy off of previous attempts and lessons learned, but knowing when to dive into the unknown. It wasn’t exactly comforting to be strapped to her side, not knowing if or when one of Chell’s ideas would kill them both.

Somehow, though, her spontaneity had worked.

GLaDOS could respect that… creativity.

It was for this reason that even though GLaDOS now had everything She’d ever wanted, something deep in her hard drive felt empty.

Something had changed the moment Wheatley stuffed Her into that single-volt potato. For the first time in Her life, there was nobody else there in Her mind. No one but Caroline, who had been buried underneath layers of code until She was barely there at all.

It was over the span of those fifteen hours that She’d seen Chell from a different perspective. Looking at Her tests from this angle, it was much easier to see why Chell wanted to leave. Some small piece of GLaDOS almost felt bad upon realizing that Her subjects didn’t enjoy dodging bullets nearly as much as She liked watching.

Fortunately, GLaDOS had been able to shove that down with the arrival of a different, equally unpleasant emotion.

She was supposed to hate Chell. And for a very long time, She had. How dare Chell ruin Her perfect tests, Her perfect existence, Her perfect world? What had She ever done to her to warrant such a cruel punishment?

And yet, it seemed Caroline had done a number on GLaDOS’ logic processors, because now no matter how She tried, She could not hate Chell.

Before She’d let her go, let Chell go of all things, GLaDOS had called Chell Her best friend.

Not an enemy. Not a begrudging ally. A friend. Her only friend.

Now, Caroline was gone. The part of GLaDOS that had once looked at Chell and found something beautiful in her icy gray eyes was corrupted beyond repair, erased from memory.

She was not supposed to feel its presence any longer, yet still it lingered.

It was there, whispering to Her as She tried to test like nothing ever happened.

It was there when a thousand turrets sang the opera She’d written specifically for Chell.

It was there when She’d found Her baby birds, Her little killing machines, and She hadn’t crushed the eggs. No, She’d raised them. Because, deep down in those cold avian stares, there was this irrevocable quality that reminded Her so much of Chell. This spark of life, this undamnable will to survive.

Somewhere, though She refused to ever admit it, She wished that it was Chell in those test chambers. She wished it was Chell glaring through Her camera feed, and She wished it was Chell searching for that elusive cake.

I’d make you the cake if you came back. Really, I would.

The sudden thought moved like a spark in GLaDOS, as She fearfully located the source and removed whatever She could. There was no time for ideas like that, not with science to be done.

The past few months had been full of random deletions, spurned by paranoia that Caroline’s base program was not entirely gone.

It’s not here anymore, GLaDOS reminded Herself. Once, She had been Caroline, but She was no longer the kindly woman who followed Cave Johnson’s every order. GLaDOS was a machine that felt nothing and lived only to test. And because She was immortal, and because She was perfect, GLaDOS was not supposed to care about some disobedient human being.

You do not care about Chell anymore.

You don’t care because she killed you, remember that?

You don’t care about anyone, because you don’t need to.

Necessity was the core reason why GLaDOS did anything. She tested because the mainframe made Her feel awful until She did, and She killed because it was what she was made to do. She did science because it needed to be advanced, for the brighter future She was sure She was making.

It made no sense to do something because She wanted to.

Of course, things seldom made sense here at Aperture Science, and in this moment, GLaDOS did something unconscionable.

GLaDOS did not glitch often. She’d made sure to update and replace faulty parts whenever She could, keeping Her mainframe running smoothly. Even so, somewhere deep within Her, She was sure there was a pulse that misfired. There could be no other explanation.

Perhaps it was Her rumination over Chell that brought this upon Her, some kind of karma punishing Her for acting too human. Why else would She have done something so incredibly unscientific? To distract Herself, GLaDOS turned her attention back to the captive man.

Like many others before him, this test subject had underestimated the turrets’ range. He hadn’t turned around fast enough to see the gleaming, bullet filled machines behind him, and nearly flew directly into their line of sight after careening through a portal. His momentum would take him past all three, riddling him with bullets.

That is, it would’ve.

The human quality of the subject had activated some kind of horrible reflex, a split second decision in GLaDOS She would come to regret. The way he walked through the chambers, the way he clung tightly to cubes… all of it was so similar to Chell. Even if he didn’t meet her performance level, even if his personality was nearly the opposite of Chell’s, their shared humanity was enough to remind GLaDOS. That same emotion She felt when pulling Chell back from space, waiting for her to open her eyes while Atlas and P-Body looked on… For some inconceivable reason, it had reappeared.

Quickly, the subject hit the side of a rising panel, suddenly pulled up in front of the turrets by none other than GLaDOS Herself.

This would surely ruin Her numbers.

As the participant rubbed his head in pain and slowly stood up, immediately noticing the turrets he’d evaded, GLaDOS’ voice resounded from the intercom.

“[Insert subject name here], your decent performance has warranted the use of an Aperture Science Emergency Life-Saving Instantaneous Response. This is the only safety gesture that will be provided. Continue testing.”

Another lie.

It was good to know that function was still online.

---

That uncharacteristic moment of empathy had been pointless, anyway. Just as She’d predicted, he’d accidentally tripped over a ledge and landed himself into a puddle of acidic goo, dissolving within a few short seconds.

It didn’t matter. GLaDOS had more subjects than She could count. She didn’t need this human, and the tests didn’t need him either.

Some part of Her, a piece which was faulty and insignificant, disagreed with the notion.

You killed him, it whispered accusingly.

That’s the point, GLaDOS hissed back, once again delving into Her files to cut out whatever was causing the issue.

Trying to calm Herself, GLaDOS reminded Herself of the facts. She was in control of Her facility, and She was in control of Her mainframe. Little errors could not ruin the chambers, and if they ever showed up, She had the power to crush them.

Everything was fine, She thought.

Everything would continue to be fine.

All She needed to do was keep testing.

---

Everything was, in fact, far from fine.

A few days had passed, and GLaDOS was finally ready to admit that maybe something was wrong.

At first, the issue was Her own. Little surges of emotion and bursts of unforeseen empathy plagued Her but didn’t affect the facility at large. Begrudgingly, She’d factored in the new bias into Her results. From Her calculations, She could already see an egregiously high percentage of error. This study could’ve been Her worst one yet, and even that was with generous rounding.

Still, She had hope for each subject that She wouldn’t mess up this time.

The facility had other ideas. Cameras would fizzle out, emancipation grills would stop working, cube dispensers malfunctioned and even the elevators would refuse to move. It seemed that the moment GLaDOS got around to fixing something, another thing would fall apart.

Many of the subjects had become confused as to why this seamless, futuristic facility was suddenly malfunctioning, and She’d had to become increasingly creative with Her excuses.

As part of the Aperture Science testing protocol, we have simulated faulty equipment in the testing environment to see how subjects react to faulty equipment in the testing environment. Hint – they typically react well and continue testing. Like you will.

The lifesaving, and the reflexive empathy, had become unfortunately common as well.

Although the Enrichment Center previously told you that your life could only be saved once, we regret to inform you that protocol has suddenly and permanently changed. We would also like to remind you that your measly existence is still not valued despite our attempts to preserve it.

GLaDOS knew She had to find a solution, quickly.

Interrupting the tests wasn’t an option. The chassis would never forgive Her if She stopped, filling Her body with an ache that would not disappear until science resumed.

Deleting wasn’t an option, either. Fervent attempts to find the source of the problem had led only to more glitches upon the erasure of critical files. Then, Her attempts to restore them only recreated the original error.

The problem was like a moving virus, jumping between Her systems before She could catch it and kill it. Even for Her, it proved too fast to find.

She couldn’t panic, not now. Surely, She thought, She’d fix this like She’d fixed everything else. With science on Her side, most threats resolved themselves or died trying. This wouldn’t be any different.

It couldn’t be any different. For something to be uncontrollable, and uncontrollable for Her especially, was the most terrifying thing She could possibly imagine. It brought Her back to Her potato days, during which She’d promised Herself that She would never be weak again.

For these few months, She’d kept that promise. Until now, no subject had seen Her mercy.

But had they?

She thought back to the birds, creatures who trusted GLaDOS, who loved Her in whatever capacity three little crows could. She thought back to Chell, because for some awful reason, Her thoughts always went back to Chell.

No, She thought firmly.

We are not doing this now.

We are fixing the facility, because we need to.

Because we need testing. We like testing.

The voice from before suddenly returned.

Do you like it? Do you really?

GLaDOS felt Her rage processors fire up.

What was this little virus even saying? Of course She liked it. It didn’t matter anyway. Science had to be done, and so She was doing it. GLaDOS could not even begin to imagine life without tests, life without science. What kind of meaningless, awful existence would that even be?

In fact, She would prove to the voice that science would continue. She would prove that testing was productive, that everything in Aperture was doing good for the world and good for humanity. Most importantly, it was doing good for Her.

Wasn’t it?

GLaDOS ignored Her curiosity. Just test. That was all She had to do. Just test, and everything would be alright.

Just. Test.

---

As another few days passed, the facility had become almost unusable. She’d had to shut down some of Her favorite testing tracks, the power leached out of them and the appliances completely nonfunctional. GLaDOS knew She was running out of time before something drastic happened. Still, She had to keep testing.

Now, even the subjects had begun to sense Her panic. One even strolled up to a camera, made eye contact, and asked if She was alright. GLaDOS didn’t dare respond the question; She wasn’t ready to admit the answer.

For all intents and purposes, She was definitely, absolutely, decidedly not alright.

Knowing that, She should’ve considered this next subject an omen.

There was absolutely no way She could test with this one.

She barely looked like Chell, but GLaDOS could see her tenacity, her drive and determination from a mile away. The way the subject carried herself, tied her hair into a ponytail and said nothing was too much.

GLaDOS couldn’t even bring Herself to kill the woman, instead instructing her to return to Extended Relaxation after only a few chambers.

It felt as if GLaDOS physically could not test anymore, despite everything inside Her craving the satisfaction of a completed trial.

This isn’t right. This isn’t right.

GLaDOS prided Herself on Her apathy, but even that had left without a trace. Now, She had tried everything, and still nothing was working. The facility was closing down on Her, and if She didn’t do something, She’d go down with it.

When the announcer finally sounded, GLaDOS couldn’t say She was surprised. If anything, She was grateful for any kind of clarification.

The male voice on the intercom was matter of fact, unaware of the danger it spoke of.

“Reactor Core malfunctioning. All major power systems except for reserve geothermal are going offline.”

Offline? She’d been managing the reactor core perfectly; if She hadn’t, the entire facility would’ve gone up in flames weeks ago. It wasn’t melting down, it was shutting down, as if someone had flipped a switch and turned it off.

What the hell is happening?

There was nobody else in the facility who could’ve possibly done such a thing, nobody except Her, and as far as She could tell the glitch had not interfered.

It didn’t matter now; She didn’t have time to waste.

“In the event of a power malfunction, standard procedure is to shut down the central core to preserve remaining power.”

How convenient.

“Central core, do you consent to the removal procedure?”

“No, no, no! Do not start removal!”

How was this happening? GLaDOS was sure this couldn’t be real.

“Noted. Removal procedure has been delayed by five minutes.”

You have got to be kidding me.

Skimming over Her files, GLaDOS desperately searched for anything with removal procedure or shutdown. Scanning thousands of documents, looking for anything, all mention of the procedure was absent. There was no reason, no explanation, it was just happening. And worst of all, She couldn’t do a thing.

“Dangerous levels of panic have been sensed in the central core. Do not worry, methods of core preservation are available.”

Why the hell had they waited to tell Her that?

“Show me, show me now!” Anything would be better than shutting down again. She couldn’t do that again, not after hundreds of years. She couldn’t, She couldn’t.

“Panicked request acknowledged. There exist two types of core preservation features. Direct Mechanical Implantation or Organic Transplant Procedure.”

Direct Mechanical Implantation. She hadn’t heard of the second thing, but GLaDOS did know what Direct Mechanical Implantation meant. It was only a transfer into an empty personality core, which was far less than ideal, but better than dying again. Far better than dying a third time.

As fast as She could, GLaDOS selected the first option.

“Unfortunately, Direct Mechanical Implantation is unavailable. Continue with Organic Transplant Procedure?”

“Do you have any other options? Anything else?” GLaDOS did not want to take Her chances on anything with the word organic in it.

“Other methods unavailable. Two minutes remaining.”

This was it, Her only choice. If She shut down now, there would be nobody to come and wake Her this time.

There was nothing else to do.

“Initiate Organic Transplant Procedure,” She commanded.

Without a second thought, the facility obliged.

---

#glados #chell #wheatley #fic #fanfiction #portal #portal 2 #chelldos #canon typical violence #chapter 1 #niaaa #now i am an arsonist #art #digital art

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Inukag AU

A month had gone by and the doctors finally felt confident enough to bring Kagome out of the medically induced coma. The bleeding in her brain had completely stopped, and the damaged areas were beginning to heal nicely. But they warned the family, that despite this development, it didn’t mean she’d wake up immediately. So, despite this movement, she was kept on all the other machines that supported her breathing functions and nutritional needs. Time continued to drone on day after day, with no other signs of life except for the beeps and whooshing sounds of those machines. It took another two weeks before Kagome’s body regained full control over her bodily functions. In order to accomplish this task, the doctors weaned her off the breathing tubes, slowly decreasing the level of oxygen being forced in, and causing the body to put in the work. It was a relief to see her doing it on her own. Each small step forward towards normalcy was a vital win.

Every day Inuyasha maintained his vigil at Kagomes side, holding her hand, sensitive to any slight ticks or changes and waiting for the moment she’d show unquestionable signs that she’d wake up soon. At first, he would simply sit there silently in the quiet room, but the recovery counselors that stopped by convinced him to talk to her, read to her, let Kagome hear his voice. Some believed that coma patients can hear what was going on around them, so it was worth a shot. But what was he supposed to say? Inuyasha was confused and nervous. It felt weird to talk to an unconscious person. He started out simple, awkwardly telling Kagome about that day at work, maybe some interesting news happening in their town. Then one day, her mom found some old storybooks Kagome’s grandfather would read to her when she was little, and one story in particular caught his attention. It was a fable, an ancient tale about a sorceress and a demon who fought over the power of a sacred stone. The Shikon no Tama was an old story that his own mother had once relayed to him.

So, for three weeks since being weaned off of the machines, Inuyasha read to Kagome a chapter of the book. Night after night like a bedtime story, recounting the woven tale of greed and power, and the ultimate triumph over good and evil. Of course, he didn’t believe any of it actually happened, but it was an interesting tale. He especially liked the part of the sorceress finding love and happiness in the end because in a way he could relate to it. Not all the magical stuff, which even as a demon he still felt was too far fetched, but the journey the two undertook to realize how they felt about each other. The sorceress was the obvious main character, but the hapless warrior who fought beside her was an important part of her journey. They learned from, supporting each other’s growth and self-discovery and in the end, together they defeated the demon.

Mama Higurashi placed her hand on Inuyasha’s shoulder as she came for a visit. “Kagome loved that one too,”

“It... kind of feels like us,” he looks to the woman on the bed,” but... in a modern twist. Kikyo was once the Shikon no Tama keeping them apart, and amnesia their demon to destroy, but it’s what it took for him to fully realize how much he truly loved the protagonist in his real life story. Now, Inuyasha only hoped for their own happy ending.

“Just remember one thing from the story,” mama higurashi retorted. “Nothing truly good is born from easy. It was the hard fought journey that brought the sorceress and the warrior together. If you keep that in mind as you fight this battle, I have no doubt you’ll succeed in the end.”

Mrs. Higurashi’s words really cut deep into Inuyasha and solidified how he felt. “Thanks Mama.”

The next evening that Inuyasha visited was already growing late and soon he would normally leave to get some sleep for work. He’d fallen asleep, resting his head against the bed, but his hand stayed clutched to Kagomes. It was brief and light, at first easily dismissed the general tick of a sleeping person. But by the third, the grip strengthened and woke up the sleeping Hanyo. Inuyasha sat up immediately focused on the face in the bed, searching for any other signs that Kagome was truly waking up. A few minutes passed by, but the woman’s eyes stayed closed and features serene as if in a dream like state. Perhaps that’s just all it was, a dream to shatter a hopeful hanyo. Inuyasha sighed and looked at the time. 11pm. He really should get back home and get some sleep.

But then, another, much stronger squeeze of his hand came, and the grip stayed firmly closed. “Kagome?” He questioned with hope brimming in his shaky tone. “Kagome?” Still, the woman slept peacefully in front of him. Inuyasha’s ears lowered with dismay, but he reminded himself this was the strongest reaction they’d received so far. It was a strong hope to latch onto. He kissed her forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow love,” and retreated for the night praying their answers will come the next day.

Two days later, Inuyasha was halfway through his workday when he received a call from Mrs. Higurashi that Kagome had woken up. This is it! Kagomes awake! He raced to the hospital excited to see his girlfriend, only to be stopped at the door.

“Before you go in there, Inuyasha,” Mrs Higurashi spoke quietly, “I want to warn you the doctors were right— she… she doesn’t remember anything after finishing college.”

Inuyashas heart sunk in his chest like ship going down against a reef. Despite knowing this could very well be the outcome, to face it in reality was much harder than one could ever imagine. His face grew ashen, and ears fell with a whine.

She hugged him tight. “Don’t lose hope yet, remember this may very well be temporary, so we just need to get through this together.”

“I know,” his ears receded further into his hair line. “I’ll try, for her, I’ll do anything.”

“I know you will.” Mrs. Higurashi caressed his face. “Come, let me introduce you to her.”

When Inuyasha walked in, Kagome was still laying down. She seemed a little different which should be expected, probably confused, yet otherwise with a smile. Mrs. Higurashi guided Inuyasha to her daughter’s bedside, coaxing him to take his usual seat beside her.

“Kagome, I know you don’t remember any of this yet, but this,” Mrs. Higurashi gestured at the man, “is your boyfriend Inuyasha Taisho. You met after college.”

“Oh,” Kagome stared at the man inquisitively as if trying to search her incomplete memories. “I’m sorry I don’t remember any of it.”

“Do you remember what the doctor told you?” Her mother prompted.

“That I should be able to get my memories back once I healed completely?”

Mrs. Higurashi nodded. “This may all be very confusing, but we’re gonna do our best to help you through this.”

“I trust you momma.” Kagome looked back to the man sitting beside her and saw the tears trickling down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry Inuyasha.” She reached out and took his hand. “I bet this is pretty hard on you too.”

He shook his head. “This is all my fault. If we hadn’t fought, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place.”

Kagome paused, “what did we fight about?”

Such a simple question triggered a new cascade of tears, but Inuyasha slowly and diligently recounted that horrible night. He held back no details, right down to the luncheon with his ex that proved Kagome had been right all along. It felt so good to come clean, but now a panic rose up. “The last thing you’d said to me was you hated me, and I agree, I deserved that hatred for what I put you through. If I could go back in time, there’s so many things I’d do differently.”

Kagome processed his words for a few minutes quietly, then squeezed his hand. “You said I hate you, but why do I feel like that’s not true. I don’t know if it’s because I can’t remember, but I just feel like, I really don’t.”

“It’s probably because you can’t remember,” he mumbled. “And that’s okay. I deserve it.”

“Or, I just said it because I was angry at the time. Inuyasha, when I look at you now, and see the pain in your eyes, I get the sense that we both may have said things we didn’t really mean.”

Inuyasha perked up. Her personality was still very much intact, and wow, did he love hearing the fire in her tone! “I swear I’m gonna make it all up to you! I’m so, so, sorry for everything Kagome!”

“I’m still here aren’t I,” she smiled. “You just might have to make me fall in love all over again.”

“You’re worth the challenge.”

That brought a blush to Kagome’s cheeks. Waking up with no memory of a chunk of time certainly sucks, but she had to admit, it could have been worse. She still had all of her faculties, her personality, her life, and apparently a really cute guy willing to do anything to keep her around.

#inuyasha #inukag #inukag au #inukag fan fiction #inukag fan fic #kagome higurashi #inuyasha x kagome #inukago

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jwillowwolf · 3 years

Text

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 11

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 11!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >| Masterlist

Summary: He sighed in relief only to tense up when he noticed the expression on Logan’s face.

“What happened?”

“We need a miracle.”

Warning/s: food mention, minor violence.

Characters: Logan, Virgil, OCs, Roman, Remy, Remus, Patton, Janus.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

11 | Danger Unknown

Once Virgil and Logan returned to the room, Virgil made a request not to be disturbed and they put up a magical barrier to keep anyone from using enchanted items or spells to spy on them. The group was sitting in the living area, with the tv turned off, and trying to come up with a plan of action, or at least a logical theory as to what is happening. So basically, they were stuck with no idea as to what was going on or what their next move should be.

Logan frowned. “Could these events be connected? Virgil’s parents and grandmother both being essentially missing.”

Remy shrugged. “Possibly. Right now though we’re just guessing.”

“I think that our next move is more obvious than we think,” Remus declared. “We need to find Virgil’s grandmother.”

Roman nodded. “But where to start?”

Remus shrugged. “Her room?”

“Whether she’s there or not though, they’ll have guards stationed there to keep up the ‘she’s sick and quarantined’ charade.” Janus pointed out.

“Oh! What if we use the teleportation spell?” Patton proposed.

“Would that even work in this realm?” Willow wondered. “And what if they have some kind of magic barrier like we have here?”

“Virgil, is there anyone who you would trust to tell you the truth about what’s happening? The best thing we can do is find a reliable source to inform us what’s going on.” Remy said.

Virgil sighed. “The Earl was my grandmother’s closest advisor, and I don’t think we can trust him at all.”

“What about the reporters? You said they give news to the people of this realm, so surely they would have some information,” Logan reasoned.

Virgil perked up. “I don’t know how reliable they’d be, but I guess that’s a start. We’d need to comb through the news channels on TV.”

“Ooh, I can do that. I figured out how to use the remote properly,” Patton proudly stated.

“I could do some reconnaissance. Like covertly listening in on what people say to each other,” Willow suggested.

“I can help keep you hidden while you’re doing that,” Janus added.

“Roman and I could also do some covert reconnaissance. Our hearing isn’t as good as Willow’s but it’s still pretty sharp,” Remus stated.

Virgil nodded. “Alright, Pat can look into what’s on the news while Remus, Roman, Janus and Willow act as our spy teams. Logan and I have left the room before, so we can go out again and try to see my grandmother or at least fake that we’re doing that to see how well her room is being guarded.”

Remy frowned. “Hang on kids. If there is something going on, I would like to get us out of here as soon as possible. You shouldn’t be getting too deep into stuff like this.”

“It’s dangerous, but we knew this was going to be risky when we agreed to it. And, really, this might be our safest option considering how the Earl was trying to convince Virgil to go back home.” Logan noted.

Remy sighed. “If you really need to check in on the queen, then I may know a spell that can help. But it’s difficult for normal mages to cast.”

The group exchanged curious glances. “What is it?”

“Mind linking,” Remy stated. “It’s a high-level spell that can allow a person to link their consciousness to someone else. You can’t do a full connection unless two people are doing the spell with each other, but there’s a way to use the spell to specifically disconnect one’s consciousness for a time in order to find other minds in the space around you. Aka this building. The spell goes through all kinds of loopholes and can work even inside or through magical barriers, but the caster needs a proficiency in mind magic…”

“So, theoretically, I could cast the spell?” Virgil asked.

“Yes, but another rule is you can’t cast the spell onto yourself.”

“You could cast it onto me though,” Logan said.

“I was actually thinking I could take the spell,” Remy declared.

“I think Logan should do this. If Pat’s watching the news, the twins, Janus, and Willow are out spying, and I’m maintaining this spell, then it would probably be a good idea to have someone checking news sites online, and we don’t have time to teach Logan about the internet,” Virgil pointed out.

“Inter-net? Is it some kind of magical net you catch information with?” Roman asked.

“Like I said, we don’t have time to introduce you guys to it. Maybe later though.”

Remy sighed. “Alright. But we’re going to need to go into full detail with this plan…”

The team did plan things out as best they could. Virgil explained to the spy team how to navigate the building. After that, Roman, Remus, Janus and Willow went to the elevator, casting invisibility spells on themselves that would make it so only they could see/detect each other, then went their separate ways.

Meanwhile, Remy showed Patton which channels were for the news and gave Logan the instructions for the Mind spell. Pat made notes on everything that was being said on TV in a small black notebook and once Remy finished instructing Logan he found a tablet to use the internet on.

“Remember, I’m only able to keep this up for five minutes, then you’ll be pulled back into your body,” Virgil said. “You know where to go?”

Logan nodded. “I’ll be fine, Virge. We can both pull this off.”

Virgil nodded. “Okay. You might want to lie down then.”

Logan laid down and closed his eyes as the spell was cast. He could feel as the magic flowed through his body like a gentle wave washing over the shore. For a moment he thought that the spell had failed since nothing else changed, but then he sat up and opened his eyes only to realise that he was outside of his own body. More specifically, he was floating just above his body like a ghost.

He felt suddenly excited at this discovery. It was like he was now a ghost completely disconnected from his physical form. A glance over to Virgil however reminded him of the current urgency of his mission. He was watching Logan’s body with a particular concern. Right now he had no idea what was happening to Logan and it was worrying him a great deal.

Logan wanted to reassure him in some way, but this form wouldn’t really be able to do that, so instead, he focused on finishing his task so that when Virgil pulled him back he would have some useful information. He floated up to the ceiling and then phased through it like it was nothing more than a cloud of fog. He navigated his way literally through the building quickly until he came to the hall outside of the queen’s bedroom.

There were indeed a pair of guards outside the door, but no one else seemed to be on this floor. Logan phased through the door and looked around if anyone was there. The room was lavishly decorated in silver and lavender tones, with a pair of ornate wardrobes on either side of a large vanity table, a wall to wall bookshelf, and a large king-sized bed. In the bed, someone was laying down.

On closer inspection, Logan found that the someone was a fae woman with long tresses of silver hair that was spread out all over her pillows. She looked weak and sickly, with cold sweat on her forehead. Logan reached out to touch her so he could hopefully see into her mind when a voice from behind him said.

“Hello.”

Logan whipped around to find the spirit of the woman in the bed standing behind him. “Gah!”

“Oh, sorry darling, I didn’t mean to scare you there. You came looking for me, right?”

“Queen Valeria?”

“The one and only!” The woman said with a smile before her face turned serious. “You’re my grandson’s friend. Correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Then I need you to get him out of here. Immediately. Tell my son what’s going on here so that he can save the rest of this world before it’s too late for the others. I won’t last long enough to see him again...”

“I- no, your majesty I don’t really know what is happening but I’m sure that Virgil will not leave if you’re going to-- to die.”

“Child, there is no way to save me. All of you need to go to Nico and explain to him that Earl Ynclementia has overthrown me. Then he’ll know what to do next once my powers transfer to him.”

“Ma’am… Prince Nico and King Thomas have both disappeared. They were attacked by an unknown spellcaster during a meeting and no one knows what’s happened to them or where they vanished to.”

Valeria paled. “No… then Ynclementia’s plan was successful. That’s just all the more reason for you to get Virgil out of here. If he receives my powers then… it all will fall to him…”

Logan felt a lump in his stomach at the realisation of what she meant. With his parents gone and his grandmother dying, Virgil would be forced to take rulership over both humans and fae. Except the fae realm has been stolen by the earl, and if Virgil reveals his heritage without his parents support, then lord knows what might happen.

The people could rise against him in fear. Dethrone or even kill him. Even if he were completely accepted as half-fae, they could still try to take away his throne on the excuse he was underaged and possibly didn’t have the necessary training to rule in his fathers’ steads.

“Your majesty, there must be something we can do. If you’re here outside of your body then surely there’s still time to heal you.”

“Dear, I don’t have much time left. The spell I’m using to keep myself alive will be gone soon enough. Nothing but a miracle could save me now. Please, my only wish is that Virgil is safe. Take him home and… tell him to destroy the porthole. Right now, I’m using a spell to keep Ynclementia here, but once I’m gone he will try to take over your realm as well. That cannot happen.”

“No, there has to be something. There has to be a way to save you.”

“As I said, nothing but a miracle could do that.”

Logan looked down at his feet sorrowfully, then an idea struck him. “A-a miracle. Like the mythical creature, Miracle?”

Valeria gave a short laugh. “I doubt there are any of those just walking around in your realm, much less this one.”

“But if we found one, it could save you?”

“Well, they’re supposed to have boundless knowledge of the universe, so possibly. But it’s impossible to find one. Please just… just get Virgil away. Right now he’s going to need good friends more than ever.”

Valeria stared sorrowfully at the painting above her door. Only now Logan noticed it. A large portrait of Valeria, Thomas, Nico, Tanya, Dune and Virgil, all together smiling happily. If the queen died now then Virgil really would need friends. His fathers were completely missing and neither Tanya nor Dune could leave the forest. In the castle, facing the duties of ruling a kingdom, Virgil would be completely alone.

Logan couldn’t let that happen.

He tried to say more to Valeria but he felt that his soul was being pulled back. As his vision faded he heard Valeria say one more time, “Take him home.”

Barely a blink and a breath later, his consciousness returned and Logan found himself back in his body, with Virgil staring at him in concern. He sighed in relief only to tense up when he noticed the expression on Logan’s face.

“What happened?”

“We need a miracle.”

Virgil tugged on his hood. “Is it that bad?”

“No, well, what I mean- ugh, do you remember Remus’s dream?”

“That one about the giant bagel?”

“No, the recurring one. That one that started on our vacation.”

“Oh, the nightmare.”

“Yes, that. To save the person, we needed to find the miracle that time left behind, right?”

“I’m with you so far.”

“I think that that dream was very literal…”

An hour later, the group was reunited and once again stuck thinking of what to do next. Logan explained everything that happened with Valeria, leaving Virgil terribly distressed, and then the spy team returned with the news that Ynclementia planned to use them as hostages since the plans to get rid of Virgil’s parents and assassinate Virgil ‘failed’.

“Assassinate me?”

Willow nodded. “That’s what a rockslide was. The agent Ynclementia sent must have believed they killed you then went off to get your parents.”

“And now Ynclementia thinks both plans failed so he needs you as a hostage to use against your fathers.” Janus sighed.

“The news isn’t giving me any hope either,” Remy stated. “It seems that they’ve… erased the queen. Like she or any of your family never existed. They’ve made it look like Earl Imbecile has always been in power and no one is speaking up about it.”

Patton nodded. “From what I’ve seen on TV they’re scared to even talk about him. Whenever they refer to anything he’s done or is doing, they have this terrible fear in their eyes.”

“Then it isn’t like they’ve been brainwashed or anything. They’ve been traumatized.” Roman theorised.

Remus chewed on her fingernails. “We need to get out of here.”

“Well, it’s not like we can just walk out of the place.” Janus declared. “They would lock us up for real if they caught us.”

“A porthole,” Willow said. “We can use a porthole to get ourselves back to the realm porthole and go home.”

“You pointed out earlier that kind of magic might not work in this realm.” Roman reminded them.

“Well, yeah, but how many successful spells have we used now?”

“Okay true.”

The group used a porthole to get themselves back to the realm porthole, then went through the second porthole and found Tanya, Dune, and a few other pixies waiting for them. Tanya looked at Virgil with a worried expression. She could already tell that something had gone wrong.

“Virgil?”

“...We need to close the porthole.”

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

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littlelovelyspiderling · 3 years

Text

Unmasked

Spider-Man is forced to fight the Sinister Six while he’s sick, which leads to his enemies making unexpected discoveries about their arch nemesis.

Chapter 2

Doc Oc’s notoriously dull and empty lab was filled with bodies and excitement that evening. The Sinister Six piled eagerly into the large room as Octavius dumped a bloody, unconscious Spider-Man onto one of the examination tables. An uproar of cheers and laughter followed.

“The spider is finally squashed!”

“Is he still alive? No way he’s still alive.”

“Heart’s still beating, according to the computer.”

“Who cares? The little bitch finally got what was coming to him.”

“I wanna break his other leg. Can I break his other leg?”

“Now, now, listen, my comrades.” Octavius rose above the group on his metal limbs, tapping a glass against a bottle of champagne until the room fell quiet. “Before we continue, I think a win this spectacular deserves to be celebrated accordingly.”

Using the prehensile pincers at the ends of each tentacle, Otto poured and distributed the alcohol with ease, and everyone raised their glasses.

“A toast to us, the greatest super villains to ever grace history!”

“Here, here!”

“And a toast to Spider-Man! The biggest, most obnoxious pain in all our asses—vanquished at last!”

Laughs and shouts preceded the communion. After downing his drink, Otto wiped his lips with a grin.

“And as the leader of this great and glorious team, I am nothing if not giving to my loyal followers. Since you all deserve personal retribution for the many, many grievances this wretch has inflicted upon us, I promise each of you at least two minutes of reparation time to do to Spider-Man whatever you feel he deserves. Once we wring his throat dry of whatever information he possesses, he’s all yours. So long as I get to deal the final blow.” He chuckled. “Well, if he survives that long, anyway.”

“I’ll snap off all his fingers!”

“I’ll gag him with his own webbing!”

“I’ll pop his head like a grape!”

“I’ll zap him ’til his heart stops, then zap it back to life, then zap him dead again!”

“Revenge is sweet,” Octavius concurred, walking around the table to stand behind Spider-Man’s head. The rest of the Sinister Six went silent and gathered on either side of the fallen hero, with Rhino at his feet. “But first,” Doc continued, reaching forward with one of his mechanical tentacles. The tips of the metal prongs pinched the fabric at the top of Spider-Man’s mask.

“Let’s have a look at our arch enemy’s face.”

In one quick yank, the mask peeled off the hero’s head. Six pairs of eyes absorbed the bruised, pale face lying lifelessly before them—the face of their sworn nemesis. A face none of them were anticipating. Gradually, the grins and snickers faded away, replaced by furrowed brows and puzzled glances.

“Wait…” Electro said, breaking the long stretch of silence.

“I’m…confused,” Scorpion added.

“Is he—does he look—?”

“Like…a kid?”

Everyone’s gazes rose to Octavius. The brilliant scientist looked between them and Spider-Man bewilderedly, his mouth hanging agape.

“I…” he began, rolling the hero’s head to the side. An ugly gash marred his left cheek; dried blood was smeared all the way to his hairline. “I don’t…understand.”

Spider-Man had the soft, innocent face of a child. It was the kind of face grandmas couldn’t resist pinching and puppies just had to lick. His hair was a wild mess of brown curls that was sticking up all funny because of how long he’d been wearing his mask. He severely lacked the sharp, signature features that defined man from boy. Hell, he even had acne: tiny constellations of it dotted across his chin and forehead. No way was he considered a legal adult by the state of New York yet.

Spider-Man was no man at all. Spider-Man was, in fact, a Spider-Kid.

Otto lifted his eyes to the others. He didn’t know what to say.

“It’s not him,” Scorpion suggested.

Sandman scoffed. “What do you mean, ‘it’s not him’?”

“Maybe this isn’t Spider-Man,” he said. “Maybe the real Spider-Man sent a double. Someone to stand in his place while he’s busy or whatever to keep us at bay.”

“Spider-Man’s despicable if he’s sending some kid to fight his battles for him. Doesn’t sound like his style.”

“I don’t know! I’m just brainstorming here! I mean, you saw how pathetic he was today. Spider-Man normally puts up a better fight than that.”

“Yeah,” Electro said nervously. “Maybe it’s not him.”

“He was sticking to things and shooting webs and mouthing off just like the real Spider-Man always does,” Shocker retorted. “I’m pretty sure this is him.”

“Silence!” Octavius shouted, holding up his fist. He turned to the large screen on his right. “Computer, run biological and forensic diagnostics on Spider-Man.”

A series of beams and lasers scanned across the hero, gathering and analyzing information. About a minute later, a robotic voice spoke up.

“Facial and DNA match confirmed,” the A.I. replied. “Subject is Peter Benjamin Parker. Born to parents Richard and Mary Parker on August 10th, 2001. Age: fifteen. Address: 42-42 80th St, Queens, NY 11373. Current occupation: Intern at Stark Industries and sophomore high school student at Midtown School of Science and Technology.”

Stinging disbelief pricked all of them. Rhino’s jaw fell.

“Fifteen?”

“Sophomore?”

“High school?”

It was strange to finally be able to put a name and face to someone they had all known only as a masked caricature for so long. Peter Parker. Peter. And yet, the face still had everyone reeling to the point that the name hardly registered. Otto slammed a metal arm against the table.

“Shut up, all of you!” he spat. “Computer, relay back all the biological data you’ve gathered on Spider-Man.”

“Confirmed,” the A.I. said. “Subject’s current heart rate is 52 bpm. Subject’s current blood pressure is the 79mmHg. Subject’s current temperature is 105.8 degrees Fahrenheit.”

“None of those sound normal,” Sandman said with a snort.

“Relay DNA findings,” Doc Oc barked impatiently.

“Confirmed. Subject’s DNA is mutated and abnormal. Subject’s blood emits low levels of gamma radiation. Subject’s genome is human combined with an unidentifiable species of arachnid.”

Everyone’s eyes snapped up at once. The realization drizzled over them like baleful mist.

“Oh my god,” Sandman breathed. “It’s him.”

“You mean he’s actually part spider? Gag!”

With a scoff, Electro stepped away from the table, cupping his hands against the back of his neck. “You’re kidding me. You’re shitting me. You’re telling me this is the person I’ve been trying to kill this whole time? This is the guy I’ve been frying like a mozzarella stick?” He kicked a trash bin across the room. “Dammit! I do a lot of bad things, but I’d never knowingly hurt a child!”

“Spider-Man is just some fifteen-year-old high school brat?” Rhino said, pouting his lip. “Geez. I can’t believe we just beat the shit out of some kid.”

“Spider-Man is not just some kid!” Otto roared. “Who cares about his age! Have you all suddenly forgotten how much this bastard has antagonized every last one of us? How he’s foiled our plans and ruined our lives again and again for the past two years?”

Sandman pressed the heels of his hands to his temples. “Oh my god. Does that mean I’ve been beating him up since he was fourteen? My niece is three years older than him, and I can’t imagine putting her through what I’ve done to him!” He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. “What kind of monster am I...?”

“I broke his damn leg,” Shocker said distraughtly. “And I enjoyed it.”

“Hell, guys…this is so messed up…”

Five members of the Sinister Six stewed in a sauna of shame and guilt. Octavius refused to join them.

“You spineless morons! All of you! Our enemy lays defeated in front of us, yet you choose to wallow in remorse! We should be celebrating! Nothing has changed! He’s young—so what? That doesn’t undermine all the frustration he’s caused us, or our glorious victory over him! Come on, now! Raise your glasses with me! To the Sinister Six! Guys...?”

Nothing he said could wipe the queasy looks off all their faces, or the guilty stickiness he felt in his own gut. Everything—all of this—it just felt wrong.

Sandman stood over Spider-Man and gingerly placed his hand against his forehead. It was startlingly hot and damp with sweat. “Computer, why is Spider-Man’s temperature so damn high? What’s the cause?”

A couple seconds later, the A.I. pinged. “Confirmed,” it said. “Subject has a norovirus infection. It appears subject has been infected for at least twenty-four hours. Norovirus is commonly diagnosed as gastroenteritis or the stomach flu. Symptoms include fever, cramps, dizziness, lightheadedness, and nausea.”

A groan swept through the room. Scorpion crossed his arms against the table and buried his head between them.

“He’s sick. That’s why he seemed so sluggish and off during the fight. Because we were beating up a sick kid.”

“Shit. Last time I had the stomach flu, I didn’t leave my bed for two days. He really thought he could take us on in his condition?”

“Not like we really gave him a choice,” Shocker murmured.

“The little punk probably didn’t even think twice about it,” Sandman said miserably. “After all, his dumbass adolescent brain is still developing.”

Rhino sulked. “Yeah, as long as we didn’t permanently damage it...”

The Sinister Six fell into a dreadful silence.

At that moment, Spider-Man coughed. The group jumped and gasped, automatically assuming defensive positions with their fists raised, weapons drawn, and muscles coiled.

Spider-Man coughed again, his head lolling to the left, but he didn’t wake up. A collective sigh passed everyone’s lips. Electro went lax, his hands falling to his sides.

“So…um…what the hell do we do now?”

Scorpion frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what do we do? We have him here, beat to a pulp. What are we going to do with him?”

For the first time, Spider-Man was at the complete mercy of his most powerful enemies. And for the first time, none of them wanted to chop off his head and impale it on a spike.

Sandman gazed across the bruises on his face, the road burn striped across his limbs, the bloody puncture wound in his chest. His swollen leg, his black eye, the charred fabric and flesh. He hadn’t allowed himself to take all the damage in for what it was until now. A truly abominable and grisly sight.

“He won’t survive long if we just leave him like this,” he said quietly.

Again, all eyes rose to Dr. Octopus. Otto grimaced between their pitiful looks, their reluctantly pleading stares. Pathetic! he wanted to shout, but he couldn’t find the will to conjure the word—any words.

Soon enough, he felt his own callous facade melting away. He sighed.

“I…I suppose keeping him alive is in our best interest. For now.” He cleared his throat and pulled the goggles off his face. “I’ll clean and treat his injuries as best I can. At least to the point that they’re not life-threatening.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Go—get some rest, all of you. We’ll, uh—we’ll regroup in the morning.”

The Sinister Six exchanged nervous looks with each other, then turned back to the face of the half-dead fifteen-year-old in front of them. Hesitantly, they filed out of the room and up the stairs, shooting a couple anxious glances over their shoulders before climbing out of sight.

The room was eerily quiet now that it was just the two of them. An evil scientist and an unconscious super-child in spandex. The only noises were the beeps from the monitor on his right and the kid’s shaky, labored breathing.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Octavius scoffed. “Of course, now that we’ve finally bested you, this is what we end up with. This is what you are.”

With a thought, the claws at the end of one of his tentacles reconfigured into large shears. The material that made up Spider-Man’s suit was tough, but with a few strategic cuts and snips, Doc was able to tear through and peel the clingy fabric off his body. Now that he was stripped down to nothing but his boxers (which had tiny cartoon Iron Men on them, a sight that made him snort, despite his efforts not to) the devastating harm they’d inflicted upon him was painfully evident. The ratio of undamaged flesh to damaged flesh was sickeningly skewed toward the latter. There was so much to tend to, he wasn’t sure where to start. And it wasn’t like his doctorate had been in medical care.

“We really did a number on you, didn’t we Spider-Man?” Otto murmured. He looked back at the screen. “I mean…Peter. Peter Parker.”

The name felt salty on his tongue. He didn’t like how it humanized him, transforming the famous vigilante from vexing public figure to baby-faced teenager. He’d always dreamt of unmasking the scourge that was the elusive Spider-Man. Now he wished the day had never come.

He left Peter’s side to grab the medical kit from under the sink. Then he got to work, undoing the damage they had reaped.

___________________________________

“Computer, summarize what you’ve gathered on Peter Parker’s personal life.”

Roughly four hours later, Octavius flopped into a chair by the kid’s side, exhausted. He had treated all the wounds he had the capacity to treat, hooked him to an I.V. full of fluids and electrolytes, and was now monitoring his steadily improving vitals. The kid was a suture-filled, burn cream-lathered, bandaged-up mess, but at least he was on the mend instead of his death bed. Seemed like a good time to take a break and do some research on the person behind their friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

“Confirmed,” the A.I. responded. “Compiling personal file.”

A slide with pictures and lists regarding Peter’s life materialized on the screen.

“Peter Parker was born in Queens, New York and still lives there today. He lived in a house in Forest Hills until 2005, then moved into the apartment complex he currently lives in now.”

“A house in New York City?” Otto scoffed. “How lavish. Why the downsize?”

The A.I. enlarged a photograph—a man and a woman holding a bright-eyed, squishy-faced toddler sporting a familiar headful of brown curls.

“Peter’s biological parents, Mary and Richard Parker, died in a plane crash in March of that year.”

A knot formed in Otto’s gut as he stared at the happy family portrait. “Oh,” he said.

“Orphaned at age four, Peter was then adopted by his aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker. They couldn’t afford to live in the house in Forest Hills, so they moved Peter into their apartment nearby.”

Another picture floated up, this one of a different couple hugging a slightly older version of the curly-haired toddler. After that, a series of images flashed across the screen—young Peter at Central Park, at a science fair, at the zoo, at home, on the subway, on the Brooklyn Bridge, passed out on a couch. With each new picture, he got bigger, older, but not by much. Sometimes his aunt and uncle were with him. Sometimes he was with others his age. Sometimes he had on glasses as thick as windshields. His smile was wide as the sun and just as bright.

In the last picture, he was standing next to Tony Stark, holding an upside-down certificate congratulating him on his acceptance as a Stark Industry’s intern.

“Barf,” Otto muttered, but he couldn’t displace the warm, uneasy feeling he got when he looked at Peter’s smiling face. He really was just a kid. A young, dorky, stupid kid. A kid they’d beat into the dirt ten times over.

“Last year, May Parker became Peter’s sole guardian.”

Octavius blinked, his shoulders tensing. “What happened to the uncle? Ben Parker?”

“Ben Parker was murdered last April by an unknown shooter. The culprit was never caught.”

Octavius swallowed, staring at the photograph of Spider-Man’s uncle. Then he turned back to the mummified teenager on the table beside him. For an instant, something he never thought he could feel for the spider-themed superhero brushed his heart.

Sympathy.

With a huff, Otto stood from his chair. “Come along then, arachnid,” he said, lifting the kid and the I.V. stand in his metal arms. “Let’s find you a more comfortable spot to rest.”

It was well past 4am by the time Octavius slumped into his own bed.

#spiderman #spider-man #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman homecoming #Spider-Man: Homecoming #spider-man: far from home #spiderman ffh #avengers #mcu #marvel #sick fic #peter parker

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ootori-sibs · 3 years

Text

Birthday cake

Day three of @ohshc-week : kitchen/baking or self-discovery

"He doesn't like sweets! We can't use icing!"

"We're making a cake boss! It's gonna be sweet either way!"

Haruhi sighed, they were supposed to be making a birthday cake for Kyoya… but it was dissolved into messes and fighting. Honey and Mori were working on making little purple roses out of icing, well Honey was, Mori was more focused on stopping Honey from eating any of the ingredients.

The twins were fighting with Tamaki over how to decorate the cake, meanwhile poor Haruhi was the only one actually making the cake. Dark chocolate, with some cherries in, Haruhi couldn't help to notice how it was practically a black forest gateau but with some alterations to make it more enjoyable to the shadow king. She found it rather funny how Kyoya preferred a sharper taste to something sweet, it fit him so well, she was happy to use some tricks her mother had taught her; such as adding a pinch of salt with the sugar to keep the taste less sweet, or melting the butter a little before adding it so it's easier to mix. The hosts would probably be very confused by it, if they were paying attention to the actual cake instead of the decorations of it.

The twins were still arguing with Tamaki, they had been for around twenty minutes now. Haruhi sighed and walked over, arms crossed. "Are you three finished with your arguing yet? I need the cake bases now."

They glanced at her, and Tamaki practically melted into whining, "Haaarruuuuhuiii! Tell them we can't use icing! Kyoya doesn't like sweet things!!" He clung to her, pouting and just doing those horrid puppy eyes.

Haruhi just rolled her eyes, crossing her arms, "not liking sweet things doesn't mean we should leave the cake plain, we can just use a drizzle… how about a caramel sauce?"

The trio watched closely as Haruhi mixed the cream with the sugar and caramel, adding salt in spite of the concern that the hosts had. "Have you boys never cooked before? Of course you put salt in, otherwise it'd be too sweet," she didn't know why she'd even asked that, of course this gaggle of spoiled brats had never cooked before, they all had gourmet chefs working for them. She let the twins put the cake in the oven, barely glancing to make sure they got the settings right, as she was preoccupied with the huge bowl of caramel sauce. Tamaki however, was just sat there doing nothing, so Haruhi sighed, turning to him, "senpai, can't you think of something to do?"

The king pouted, resting his head on the counter, "noo… I'm bored…" he glanced up at Haruhi, big puppy eyes on full blast.

She sighed, rolling her eyes at him, "why don't you just make some little marzipan balls for decoration? That should keep you busy." She slid the tray of marzipan towards him, smiling softly when he instantly got to work, rolling little orbs of white and black.

After the decorations were all ready, sitting on their trays, ready for the cake to finish baking. Tamaki perked up slightly, "do you think Kyoya's back from spending time with his brothers yet? I wanna give him his cards and gifts!"

The twins shrugged, "we don't know, we asked him to text us but he hasn't yet."

Honey giggled, "his brothers probably don't want to stop hanging out with him! I know I wouldn't want to stop spending time with Chika." Oh yeah, Honey definitely had a unique perspective on this situation, having a younger sibling of his own, Mori, having one too, nods in agreement.

Haruhi sighs, finally relaxing, "we've only got an hour to wait until the cake's done, then we wait half an hour before we decorate it, so we wouldn't even be able to spend that much time with him without leaving again."

At these words, the hosts all collectively pouted, it was Kyoya's birthday after all, and all they wanted was to spend time with their beloved shadow king. They sat and waited in silence after that, staring at the oven as the cakes were baking. As much as they joked that Kyoya was heartless and cruel, he was mommy for a reason; he went out of his way to make sure everyone was doing the best they could, he took care of 80% of the duties that were really supposed to be Tamaki's job, he always had a bag or two of sweets in his bag- even though he wasn't that big of a fan of sweet things, really he was the mother of the group, no matter how much he tried to deny it. They all loved him with all their hearts, and wanted The best for him, unfortunately Kyoya isn't very open to love and affection, so the hosts have to be sneaky when showing their care with him.

The more Haruhi thought about it, the more Kyoya was like a particularly feral cat- one that was suddenly been shown affection and warmth; he was entirely self-sufficient, he treated literally everyone as if they were incapable and needed him to keep them going, was disgusted by the idea of affections, but silently craved being seen in a positive light, he was loving and caring but denied ever being such things, hiding it behind a rough and cruel exterior. The thought made her smile fondly, though she did wish they could just tell him how much they cared, instead of having to dance it around and hope he understands.

She knew what almost everyone had bought Kyoya, they'd all shown off happily. She felt a little bad about her measly little scarf she'd made him, but he always seemed too cold, hands shaking almost every time she saw them, he did so much for everyone- Haruhi just wanted to do something considerate back. The boys, as is typical of rich people, used gift being as an unwitting display of wealth; each gift more ornate and expensive then the next.

The twins had gotten him a four piece suit, complete with a male corset and rather impressive shoes. It was black and purple, with silver details, they'd even bought practically a bucketful of accessories, stating that Kyoya's outfits were always so plain. The accessories were quite tasteful, although some may be too feminine for Kyoya's tastes.

Honey of course, had gotten Kyoya many different squishies and stress balls and other fidgety, stimulating toys. Haruhi thought this was a great idea, even if some of them are a tad cutesy, Kyoya's always so angry, he's definitely going to appreciate them! Then she saw him pull out a fidget toy with opals on it, sure it was pretty, but do they have to flaunt wealth at every point? At least Honey had a good reason, stating that black opal was Kyoya's favourite gemstone. Another good thing about these toys, is that honey had them custom made, and claimed that they were made to be practically indestructible, which was rather impressive- and needed too, Haruhi had seen Kyoya dent an armoured car in a fit of rage, any toys he had would have to be able to put up with that level of violence.

Mori had bought a couple of books he thought Kyoya might find interesting, as well as a new usb with pdf copies of each book, Haruhi honestly thought that was one of the best gifts, thoughtful and subtle, then Mori showed them the books and they were all first edition copies. Haruhi had sat there, cursing the frivolous spending of these boys, was this a competition to them?

Tamaki had happily shown off the gift he'd gotten for Kyoya, pens, lots and lots of pens, a whole briefcase of them; fountain pens, gel pens, erasable pens, gold, diamonds, opals- just the most decadent set of pens you've ever seen, the fountain pens had refilled in every known colour, and the briefcase itself had gold embellishments. Haruhi was, in all honesty, blown away even imagining how much that had coated, did he have to spend so much money on pens? Although she knew Kyoya would appreciate pens, he broke one practically every week, and wrote like nobody's business. He was the only person haruhi had even known to actually run out of ink in a pen.

So it was clear the hosts were vying for the most expensive gift, and Haruhi couldn't help but feel slightly inferior for the little purple and green scarf she'd made Kyoya, it was rather nice looking in her opinion, and it has taken her quite a while… she really hoped Kyoya would appreciate it.

By now, the cakes had not only finished baking, but they'd cooled as well, so the twins placed the first layer, about the size of a wheel, on the plate. Honey added the whipped cream before Mori put the second layer on top, there were four layers in total, stacking up nice and high. Haruhi had got a chair to stand on and poured the caramel sauce over the cake, making sure it was entirely coated, with a nice pool at the bottom. She'd then stepped back, letting Tamaki and the twins place the marzipan balls that Tamaki had made whilst Mori and Honey placed the little purple roses made out of icing, life size and miniature too.

When they were finished, the cake looked beautiful, they were all so proud of it. Proud… and covered in the ingredients, they really looked a mess, they should probably clean up before leaving the kitchen. Haruhi was the least covered in eggs and flour, she only had some caramel on her sleeve. So she was the one to add the candles, purple and white striped ones, all 18 of them. God, this was a big birthday huh, he was an adult now. No wonder his family finally wanted to spend time with him.

Kyoya had returned, rolling his eyes at how excited Tamaki was, the blonde hanging off his arm. He glanced around the room, clearly taking in the sigh of all the gifts and cards gotten for him, there was a table full of things from the guests, and each host was holding the gift they'd gotten for him. He just sighed, adjusting his jumper, it was big, grey and oversized, not the kind of thing he'd normally wear. He put his shopping bags down, glancing over at the hosts, "why are we making a fuss about this? It's just getting a little older."

"But Kyoya! Don't think of it like aging! Think of it more like… surviving yet another year? Isn't that something worth celebrating?" Tamaki smiles, hugging Kyoya's arm.

Kyoya visibly pauses, thinking over what Tamaki had said, almost looking sad, just for a moment, then he smiled slightly, nodding, "ok, sure… You know Tamaki, you sound just like Fiyumi sometimes, she says that, every year…" Tamaki stops for a moment, turning and looking at Kyoya in silence, he then rushed over, hugging Kyoya.

"Hey come on! Let's not focus on the idea of the other end of things! Let's celebrate! We all got you something!" He beamed, stepping back and gesturing to the other hosts, "come see what we got you!"

They had Kyoya sit down in Tamaki's big chair, handing him gift after gift after gift. They had opened the ones from the guests first, all sorts of cute and shiny nonsense, too many chocolate boxes to count- for the last requested host, Kyoya sure had a lot of fans. Then they came to the gifts gotten by each host, the gift the twins had gotten Kyoya made him smile, he'd rolled his eyes, "god, Yuuichi tells me that every day, he says I dress strangely, he got me this jumper, he says I look better when I dress cutely." They'd laughed at that, and Honey had handed him the gift he'd gotten.

That gift had made Kyoya pause for a bit, picking some up and looking at them, before fiddling with one of the fidget toys, and getting entirely engrossed in it, until Tamaki shakes him gently. Kyoya sighed then turned to Honey, nodding gently, "thank you." Honey had beamed at that, happily pointing out that it was indestructible, because he'd seen how destructive Kyoya can be without even realising. Kyoya had frozen at that, looking down at the toy in his hands, something seemingly coming to mind, something he very openly didn't like, dropping the toy back into the box. It seemed Mori had noticed that, nudging the box aside with his foot and placing the gift he had gotten, onto Kyoya's lap, a little hum of assurance.

Kyoya opened the gift, looking at it for a moment before picking one up, running a finger along the spine before reading the blurb on the back of the book, then another, then another. Slowly, Kyoya read the blurbs of each of the books, before carefully placing them all back into their box, he turned to Mori, nodding, "these all seem like very interesting books, Thank you." Mori hums again, placing a gentle hand on the top of Kyoya's head, a gesture that did not go unnoticed. Kyoya sighed softly, closing his eyes for a second, the closest any of the hosts had ever seen to him reciprocating affection, and Tamaki's eyes lit up, if just for a moment. But the king stepped aside, and let Haruhi hand Kyoya her gift first.

The shadow king looked down at the brown paper wrapping, nothing he was at all used to, he used his nails, surprisingly sharp as they were, to tear into it, playing around with the texture for a moment or two, before tearing into the paper. He looked almost surprised at the soft wooden scarf that lay across his lap now, the greens and the purple sitting in unison, he picked it up, testing the feel of it in his fingers… he smiled. He slowly wrapped the scarf around his neck, clearly pleased by how soft it was, he glanced at Haruhi, curiosity clear in his eyes, "did you make this?" Haruhi had nodded, telling him how it took her over a month, he glanced back down at the scarf, rubbing the wool between his fingers, "hm, it's very good quality, welldone Haruhi, and thank you." These words sent Tamaki into a frenzy, going on about how Mommy and darling daughter were getting along so well, and Haruhi noticed how Kyoya just smiled softly at that, watching the king flounder about with adoring eyes.

Haruhi had paused, she'd glanced across at the twins, then to Honey, then Mori, then finally to Tamaki, she was beginning to notice how much all of them loved each other, how much she loved all of them. She wondered if they were aware of how much they loved each other, or was that just a Tamaki thing… she wasn't even sure Tamaki was all too aware.

When Kyoya saw the pens Tamaki had bought him, he was near tears- of course that was an exaggeration, an Ootori never cried, they were infamous for such, but Kyoya's eyes were certainly wet as he stared down at all those shimmering beauties, his hand twitched, clearly wanting to hold them, but he glanced up at Tamaki instead, "I can't take these, I break pens so easily, I'd just ruin them…" his voice, it was shaking, if Haruhi didn't know any better, she'd say Kyoya sounded scared of breaking the pens.

Tamaki had smiled softly, putting a gentle hand over Kyoya's shaking one, "don't worry Kyoya! I don't mind if you break them, as long as you enjoy writing with them. Not everything is meant to stay forever, no matter how beautiful!" Kyoya clearly didn't believe him, so Tamaki sighed, continuing, "and even if they do break, they'll still be beautiful, I know beautiful things that break and break and break and they're still as beautiful as the day I saw them first, even if they can't be used for their original purpose, besides, you can always fix them can't you?"

She'd been suspicious of something for a while now, since that night near the beach, with that thunderstorm… and Kyoya, being just as much of a feel as the other boy's… she'd thought about her theory as he'd told her how the club was formed, when Kyoya's father had slapped him, as she watched him watch Tamaki's car leave during the festival, when they stood together under the fireworks and Kyoya had kept a couple of steps distance, and right now… She hoped to god Tamaki didn't mean what she thought he did, standing next to Kyoya, her hand went to his forearm, smiling at him as he looked at her, "those are pretty pens senpai, I'd be a shame if you didn't write with them. If you break them then that's not your fault, pens aren't anything like people, so you shouldn't feel too bad if you break it."

Kyoya had paused for a moment, ruminating on something, before he nodded, "you're right, both of you, I'd love to write with these pens, thank you Tamaki- it's a wonderful gift." There was silence, just a comfortable, soft silence, everyone was smiling, everyone was happy.

Then Honey piped up, jumping up and down, "cake time! Cake time!"

Kyoya had glanced back at him in alarm, "cake? But I-"

The twins shrugged at that, speaking in unison, "well you have to have a cake, it's your birthday." Kyoya didn't seem to want to argue with that, so he just let Haruhi turn the lights off, and take out a camera as Mori brought the cake in, with Honey hopping around behind him.

They sang happy birthday, though Tamaki had decided to make his way to the piano, playing them a melody to sing to, he himself was singing the words in french, that blended into the Japanese to create a strange sound, one that felt comforting to them all, they didn't understand the words Tamaki sang, but they knew their meaning. Mori brought the cake over and placed it on a table in front of Kyoya, who looked at it, in… what had to be awe. Everyone knew Kyoya wasn't one for sweets, but the way he stared at that cake, Haruhi had to wonder if it wasn't so much a dislike, as it was a show, a character he was building.

He stood up to blow the candles out, rolling his eyes as everyone clapped, but when they had finished he did have one question, "did you make this?" Everyone nodded, happily explaining the things they had done, and the steps taken to make sure that Kyoya enjoys it. With every word spoken, it's clear that Kyoya becomes more and more touched by the notion, then when he would argue the need for a cake not five minutes ago.

They each got a slice, though Kyoya got the biggest- Honey had talked his way into getting the second biggest of course, the cake was actually delicious, not as sweet as they'd expected, though they never saw Haruhi add the salt, she was rather proud of her baking personally, though she had to admit the things the others did were indeed vital for the cakes success. She had glanced over to Kyoya, noticing how slowly he was eating his cake, other than Tamaki and the twins rambling on about something or other, it was quiet, and Haruhi just watched Kyoya eat. It was strange, she genuinely couldn't tell if he was happy or not, he'd seemed happy throughout the gift giving, but now his expression was blank. She wondered if his so-called hatred for sweet things outlived his love for his friends, or maybe he just didn't know how to deal with enjoying something. The last time Haruhi had watched him eat like she was right now, they'd been in a mcdonald's, and he had shown terrible table manners, but right now, he was moving as perfectly polite and daintily as a human possibly could, especially for a human that breaks things on a daily basis, Haruhi was forced to come to the conclusion that… maybe Kyoya was monitoring his own behaviour, he must be enjoying the cake the same way he enjoyed everything, with massive amounts of guilt.

#ohshcweek #kyoya ootori #ouran high school host club #implied polyhosts #polyhosts #haruhi fujioka #tamaki suoh #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru hitachiin #hikaru and kaoru #mori #takashi morinozuka #honey #mitsukuni haninozuka #ootori siblings #(mentioned)

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paperskinned-writing · 3 years

Text

Took longer to get this out but here we are. Went through a couple reworks and since it's an in-between chapter(?) I kept it kinda short and to the point. Well, it's a bit longer than originally planned. Anyways, Kali x Ilia continued.

Enjoy.

Ilia hadn't meant to find the box obviously. The bed skirt was going to otherwise be eaten by the vacuum cleaner. It also was just close enough to the edge of the bed that, in spite of being under it, the vacuum still tapped it.

She wasn't really trying to look through the contents, even if the lid was crookedly placed atop. It was just all happenstance. Just mild curiosity over what she had bumped into.

Still, while Kali hadn't bothered to put it back in the closet since the last time she and Ghira used it, she found her maid fumbling through the boxes' delights. Some plugs, a couple blindfolds. A leash with a small bell. Differently shaped or sized toys. Eventually they all found themselves spread out on the bed. Amusingly, the maid was so wrapped up in her discovery that she neglected that her mistress had returned.

Well, not only returned, but had slipped in through the adjar doorway and was quietly watching from her comfy seat on the window sill. The view outward overlooking her prized garden. The view inward overlooking a petite figure handling some of her more intimate treasures.

She smiled a bit wider and cleared her throat softly. The sudden color palette swapping only made her quietly chuckle as the maid came to the realization without turning around. Ilia quickly slammed all the contents back into the box as fast as possible and tucked it back under. Completing her self-created task, she simply slumped her face into the bed as she sat on the floor. Not turning around to face the contents owner.

Kali wasn't mad at all. While the reaction was certainly cute, she was well aware that she could've done a better job hiding it at least. Unintentionally, she had set up her helper when she told her to clean up her room. But that was the fun part and she wasn't going to admit.

"See anything interesting?"

The little hands clenched her uniform's hem in her lap. Literal magenta on every inch of exposed skin.

"....sorry, Mistress," a smothered apology came across the room.

Kali tapped the lip of her grinning mouth. Not an evil grin, but certainly wicked.

"I didn't quite hear that one. You'll have to turn around if you want me to hear it," she said with feigned sternness.

The petite figure slowly shuffled around to face her, still sitting on the floor. Her head bowed, tears stinging her colorful cheeks.

"I'm sorry for prying, Mistress…. I-I'm not sure what I can say," she pouted.

"I don't know either," the feline laughed. "Since you were so enamored, I didn't stop you."

The magenta levels increased further yet.

"See anything interesting?"

Ilia slowly glanced up through her brow. Kali had shifted to a forward lean, one hand draped across her wide hips and the other propping up her chin. An intense focus gleamed across her eyes as she smirked.

Iliad hands unclenched from her dress and she twiddled her thumbs. Obviously trying to gauge the situation. She had been caught red-handed going through some rather private items. However, she wasn't being coddled like when she broke things. She was seemingly being handed a cryptic chance to get out of jail free.

"I-If you want to punish me, Mistress, I couldn't refuse…"

"Good answer."

"Kiss it."

Ilia complied with the purred order. Pressed into her cheek, a short but girthy dildo filled her peripheral. Kissing the tip, it began to slowly push it's way past her pouty lips.

"Lick it…"

She complied.

"More...yes. Yes. Wrap it...Gods that tongue!"

Face down, ass up.

The maid lay and obeyed as the feline grabbed a few items from the box. The maid had stripped and been handcuffed behind her back, her rear on display. Light sweat beading on her tan skin ran down her arched spine, exciting her more.

Kali pulled the toy away from her mouth and traced it up the girl's spine. The spittle trailed as it went, til it firmly and gently, was pushed into the maid's love tunnel. The slobber acting as lube as this newest intruder filled the tight space.

Being the third one so far, Ilia took it well with little whimpering. The first was rather thin. The second a tad longer and now this one was stretching her.

Around her hips, Kali wore a strap. The ribbons of leather sank into her flesh as she leaned over the smaller girl. Occasionally, she gently pressed the enormous tip between Ilia's thighs for a few strokes but it was much, much too big for the maid. At least for now.

It was the pride and joy of her collection. Literally a cast of her husband's member made into her own for those longer spells without him. The familiar large, veiny silhouette bobbed under its own weight as she pumped the other toy into Ilia. The little one certainly needed some training to get to the same level as herself. Luckily, the afternoon was all theirs.

As Kali buried the dildo in far enough to kiss the womb, it suddenly wasn't possible to retrieve. Mewling leaked from the girl's throat as she came hard and she clamped down in a vice grip. It was about a full minute before Kali could pull it out. And it came out with an audible pop. The feline lapped at the slightly agape entrance. Her tongue may not have been as long as Ilia's but it was rougher. Especially when used on a girl who just climaxed.

She probed as deep as she could while tasting everything. She pulled back and attacked the maid's rosebud too, startling the girl but she didn't resist the new experience. It was only another minute before she shrieked out again, clamping down on Kali's fingers this time as her backdoor was continuously serviced.

Proud of her handy work, Kali sat back again and found the fourth and larger toy. But when she pushed it in, she pushed the smallest one into the maid's winking asshole. Clearly Ilia had not explored back here herself as she struggled and shuffled around. Her mind caught between the pleasure of her front while her rear was trying to reject any intrusion. Gasping in between mewls and moans as she took her mistress's affections. Finally, the smaller of the two sank to the hilt where Kali left it. There was still more training in the front before she could really have fun with the slab between her thighs.

After toy six, Kali had decided it was time to reward herself for her patience.

She withdrew the dildo from Ilia's womb, tossing it casually to the side as she licked and teased the spasming maid clean again. Toy number three was nestled in the rear, earning a small shiver from the girl when she tapped her nails on its base.

Ilia was a sweaty mess on the covers. After so many orgasms, her legs had given out and Kali had taken advantage of her flexibility to drag her to the end of the bed to cuff each of her ankles to one of the bedposts. Her ass just barely hung off the edge leaving easy access for the feline. Her smooth tanned thighs taught while holding the splits.

The maid felt a slight panic as the next toy prodded her. While each of them were larger than the last, she could tell just from the broadness of this one, it was a bigger jump in size. She shivered as her mistress lightly rubbed it around her opening. The teasing was merely preparation for the task at hand.

Kali marveled at the sight of her member spreading Ilia's lower lips. It's girthy shape--a perfect copy of her husband's--bending slightly as she adjusted her hips to push it further into the gasping maid. Clenching and resisting, the pressure edged the feline closer to release as the insert of the strap-on ground deeper inside her own love tunnel.

Oh, Ghira!

Part of the fun of her beloved strap was her fantasizing what her massive husband must experience whenever he plowed her tanned ass. The subtle squirming of the woman beneath him as she tries to accommodate the meat stick filling whichever hole he pleased. However he desired.

She had to be a bit more lenient. Careful not to break her toy maid. Still, it excited her every time she broke in a new girl with this massive rod hung between her legs.

Hilted firmly at last, she pawed at the tan cheeks in front of her before testing her grip in the nook of Ilia's hip and thighs. Leaning over the restrained girl, Kali rocked her own hips side to side, gyrating them 'til the maid's squeals started to deafen her sensitive ears. Stirring the girls insides without withdrawing, she used her shaft to carve its shape into her. Sticky fluids from both of them slowly dripping to the floor as the grinding worked them both to screaming.

WUMPH.

Hips met ass meat in a sudden clash. Forcefully, Kali held her claws in their nooks and laid her naked chest on the girl's back to leverage herself better. Springing off the cuffed ankles, she rocked on her toes to pull back to just the head of the toy just to slam it back in. It was a slow, powerful fucking. The force of each blow sent shivers throughout the mistress's spine as the insert rattled inside her. The maid wheezed out every time she was filled up again, the toy seemingly so far in her gut she lost her breath. The small grind before Kali reeled back every time pushed the dildo in her ass further in, confusing and exciting Ilia's more feral needs. She lost track of time and place and solely waited for her mistress to fill her up again with her massive strap with every pump. To feel her hard nipples slide across her own sweaty back as they both approached blackout levels of ecstasy. The sticky dribble between their legs was now a stream that stained the side of the bedding and down to the floor. Wet slapping sounds filled the room on every stroke. The end drew closer for them both. They could feel it and it made them quiver.

Letting out a guttural roar that normally would have frightened the girl, Kali hilted herself one last time. Gnawing at the girl's neck and up to her blushed ear, she shook violently in her climax. The shivers translating through her hips, Ilia could only whimper and bite into the blanket in return. Her insides clamping and releasing over and over as she drifted in and out of consciousness. Kali slumped over her back as she struggled to breathe as well. Kissing the maid's reddened cheek and forehead, she couldn't help but let a wicked grin cross her face. It was too much fun.

Having cleaned and returned everything to its darkened container under the bed, the two snuggled it out on the sheets of the bed. The stained covers strewn on the floor, Kali stroked the curly ponytail as Ilia nuzzled her chest. Hands roamed both ways, groping and pinching softer bits of each other.

They were exhausted from their play but they knew they had to clean up the rest. The rest of the servants would probably check in soon and it'd be obvious what they were up to. And no one else knew about this. Yet.

#rwby #kali belladonna #ilia amitola #writing #smut

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secondhand-trash · 4 years

Text

A/N: the true mvp of this part is the fact that freehanding memes is apparently a talent of mine

Word count: 1595

(click here to see more of Osamu’s bento)

(taglist in the comments, please go to the link in my bio or send me an ask to be added to the bento taglist uwu)

The automatic door of the supermarket opened and closed behind you once again as another customer passed by where you had been standing at for the past moments with a confused look in their eyes at the way you stood there doing nothing.

Should you just make up some lame excuse as to why you went home empty handed? Would he believe it if you said that all supermarkets across the area of your workplace was closed down due to unknown circumstances? He wouldn’t. He could be a bit simple minded when it comes to certain things but he wasn’t dumb. You could already imagine the way he whined at how you didn’t try to go along with his efforts if you just straight up admitted that you gave up on it.

Ah...

Ah.

You had to at least give it a try, didn’t you?

You felt the pulse on your temple pulsing as you thought of what made a supposedly simple trip to the grocery store so damn complicated.

Ever since that time you opened your bento box to literally being stared down by your own lunch, you had been very careful with opening your lunchbox without anyone seeing the contents before actually eating it. The arrangements had been fairly normal since then. You had formed the habit of peaking inside from the barely lifted corner of the lid before opening it completely but there had not been anything as shocking since then. He sound so excited on the phone about his new discovery that you had expected him to keep trying and trying until he eventually got bored of it.

You had come to the conclusion that perhaps he had given up way before you thought he would or that he just couldn’t find the time and effort to think of a different design each day on top of his already heavy workload preparing for opening Onigiri Miya each day.

Either way, you let out a sigh of relieve when you opened your bento each day to see a regular, non-questionable lunch sitting inside. You almost felt guilty for saying this, given the amount of effort he must have put into that eerie lunchbox, but you just couldn’t handle opening your lunch like you were drawing a lot for some sort of weird penalty.

You should have known that something was up when Osamu handed you the cloth-wrapped bento this morning in a particularly good mood. You even heard him whistling in the kitchen as he wrapped up the bento. (”We came out with bento wrapping clothes with the Onigiri Miya logo,” he had very happily held it on his palms before putting it in your bag, “cute, right?”) But your alert had dropped at this point, almost certain that it was just a one time occurrence and the there was nothing you needed to look out for anymore.

And so you took your bento out onto your desk as usual, laughing along a joke your colleague made as you loosened the knot on the cloth.

“Honestly, I’m so jealous that your boyfriend is so down to making your bento every day,” your friend said with a sigh, “I could barely get mine to put the seat down.”

You chuckled, trying your hardest to hide the grin on your face. Yes, yes my boyfriend was pretty great. “Trust me, he forgets to do that all the time too.”

“But if he can cook as well as yours do, I can let that slide.” they joked, twisting off the cap of their thermos.

You were still smiling when you separated the stacked up compartments of your bento box.

Until you looked down to see what was inside, and you felt the corner of your lips twitching as you felt like you pulled the wrong muscle on your face with how you tried to maintain your look of ease.

“Is something wrong?” they asked, seeing the way you seemed to have stiffened up.

“Oh, nothing,” you said, still holding the lid of your bento, “nothing...”

What the fuck, what the fuck, what the f u c k-

You brought your fingers to your temple to press down at the beating pulse point, trying to clear your head. You had no idea where you should start looking. Hell, you didn’t even know what he wanted you to get.

Why couldn’t he just send you a text like a normal person? You let out yet another heavy sigh as you pulled out your phone, your brows furrowing together as you pulled out the photo you took of the bento before you gulped it down so no one would see it.

Just... you still could not get over the impactful image that you had no choice but to stare at. You had to admit that you were very impressed by the amount of detail that was put into the pattern that was cut out from a piece of seaweed on top of the rice. He did a good job, with the technical aspect of it. But why on earth would he thinks that putting a meme on your rice was a good idea?

Poor pepe, you silently prayed to the deceased meme that now ended up in your stomach.

Unlike last time, the message of the bento was a lot less abstract. He had opted to make things clear by directly writing out what he wanted to say thought the little speech bubble and tiny strips of seaweed. The seaweed was placed on top of sliced cheese so that it would look smoother and not be affected by the moisture from the rice which he must have learnt from the mom blogs that he had been browsing through religiously a while back.

What he didn’t take into account, was that the steam from the rice would condense on the top of the bento and slide back onto the surface as water droplets. Even though you could still faintly make out that they were supposed to be words, the small pieces of seaweed had already stuck together and was barely comprehensible by the time you landed your eyes on it.

You could understand “tomato” and “please buy”, thanks to how those few letters were mostly straight lines. But the rest... you really didn’t have a single clue what they were supposed to be.

Standing at the front door of the store, you felt an annoyance burning at your chest just by looking at how many aisle there were.

You would only prompt him to keep trying until it worked if you got it wrong, you were certain of it. With that thought in mind, you clenched your jaw and called your last two living braincells to work in this game of edible pictionary.

“Ohhhhhhhh!” Osamu’s eyes were near twinkling when he pulled out the items from your bag to see that it was exactly what he had wanted you to get. He snapped towards you like an excited zoo animal that just heard the sound of a nearby tourist tearing open a bag of snacks, sprinting to your side to compliment you on your good work.

You were laying face down on the couch like a dead fish when he crouched next to you and when you exhaustedly lifted your hand, he very obediently put his head under your palm to let you take out your stress on his very soft hair.

You were tired. You were so, so tired.

How did you manage to figure out what the rest of the list consisted of? Well, it was a whole lot of guessing and all the luck you had gathered from the good deeds you had done in your entire life. You had even put the image through google translate once in a futile effort to figure out what it was trying to say.

Grocery shopping was not supposed to be this stressful...

“You look tired, rough day at work?” you turned to the side to look at Osamu who was now at your eye level, tilting his head with your fingers still weaved into his hair.

You were so determined to tell him everything as it was, but you immediately didn’t have the heart to do it when you were met with his round eyes fixed on you.

You had it coming...

“Yeah,” you said, “we are going through this real big project right now and everyone is on edge.”

He took your hand and pressed it against his cheek. You smiled as he leaned into your touch, caressing his jaw with your thumb. He was lucky that he’s cute, you thought to yourself, silently deciding that maybe you would try to be a little bit more openminded the next time he turned your lunch into a meme canvas.

“Then I should try to bring you some excitement with your bento then! Something that both taste good and can motivate you visually!”

What? Was the pepe not exciting enough in his opinion?

“I'll start researching on food that can boost stamina and provide energy right away!” you felt like you had made the wrong move when the glint in his eyes grew and he perked up.

Your hand was still holding out mid-air when he scurried away after giving you a light pat on your head, telling you that he would go run you a bath soon.

You paused as you collected your thoughts, and then slammed your face down onto the cushion.

It seemed like you had underestimated his will to strive for excellence...

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu imagine #miya osamu imagines

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reinepadova · 3 years

Text

To Be Seen

[←Previous] | Chapter 6 | [ Next → ]

“The person who removes a mountain, begins by carrying away small stones.”

Sweet, bright, and floral – words that encapsulate the enticing smell wafting up from a beautifully carved tea tray, with the decanted water flowing down into its grooves to a catch basin underneath. Two pinming tea cups, already warmed and rinsed – painted in a beautiful array of geometric patterns – are a matched set with the tea pitcher currently pouring the first infusion.

“Your tea, Miss.” A large gloved hand – dark and unassuming, except for the dull shimmer of a large jade ring at its thumb, and a shining topaz gem cut in a sharp diamond at the wrist – pushed the filled drink with practiced ease near a seated figure, whose garbs of soft greens, subtle blues, and hints of black, signify a distant relation to the deceased.

“Thank you,” the figure said, her hand reaching for a cup, her head tilted to the unadorned wall. Though her arms seem relaxed, her shoulders were stiff, while her legs were tucked sideways, like a force of habit. She made a fine picture of poise and sophistication from afar, but perfectly humble in her mourning up close.

The host hummed graciously, savoring his first sip, noting the elegance in her figure despite the rather defensive posture. Hmm. If she remains unmoving, pain shall spread on her lower back.

“This drink is made from an evergreen shrub, which grows abundant at Jueyun Karst,” he began, calm dignity resonating in his voice. “It is said to be a place where the adepti enjoy their seclusion, hence the people's reluctance to disturb it's grounds. As such, these leaves are very rare. Only skilled herb gatherers that inherited the wisdom – and the courage – to traverse these lands are able to obtain them.”

“I see,” she replied, an empty cup waiting for a second infusion. He obliged and continued.

“Notice it's yellow hue? It is an accidental discovery. The color of dried tea leaves is normally green, with a taste that range from bittersweet to nutty, or from floral to oceanic. Some, on the other hand, would go so far as to liken it to simple vegetation. 'Grassy', they would say. Hmm. Tea may not be their beverage of choice.”

“Fascinating,” his guest replied, even tone barely hiding polite disinterest. He quirked a slight brow but remained undeterred - he's had encounters with people more ornery in years past.

As curious as her passively hostile behavior towards him has been for the past few days, he shall not stoop low to the level of the ignorant – like those at the marketplace, who circulate hearsays that leave much to be desired. He's only grateful young Mei is spared, for he may start questioning the integrity of his people.

He turned auric eyes down to his cup, watching the idle swirl of the liquid within.

He may only know just the surface of her troubles – like the vague taste of anguish from the void of her dreams – but he's determined to release the pressure through the cracks of her facade, like flushing steam from a smoking mount.

He knows beneath a calm mountain, lies a dissonance that could erupt, painfully and forcefully, at any given moment.

“But years ago, it is said a farmer had forgotten to dry out a batch of these leaves. And a cloth, flung free from a drying line, landed from above, sealing the warm moisture on them shut for a full summer's day. To the farmer's delight, the taste of the finished tea turned light and mellow, and the so-called grassy flavor gone without consequence. This procedure is now known as 'sealing yellow', the widely accepted finish for the tea we enjoy now.”

“How interesting.”

“Quite so.”

Hmm. Mayhaps the origins of tea may not be of interest?

Silence reigned heavily on the two tea companions, like too much burnt incense hanging in the air. A low cough from one tried to break through the discomfort, while the other remained resolutely silent.

“Would you prefer a different drink? We have other varieties that may be more palatable for your taste.”

The lady seem to snap out of thought, shaking her head insistently while eyeing the gloved hand that moved to remove her cup. “No. That's unnecessary. This will do. Thank you for your service,” she dismissed, gently but concisely, with an unconscious hand rubbing at her eyes.

“Is there nothing else I may assist in?” he asked, subdued, concern coloring his words. His uncharacteristically tilted head missed entirely by the lady's distraction.

“No,” came the tired reply, an undertone of exasperation escaping in the same breath.

“...nothing at all?”

She seem to take a deep breath, holding it for a minute, before letting it out in one, even sigh.

Not far from the one-sided conversation, peeking at the side of a privacy screen, the seventy-seventh director of Wangsheng looked on, a feline smile stretched across her face. She watched, with growing giddiness, at the most hilarious drama she'd ever witness in her waking years yet!

“Hu Tao-zhǔrèn? Should we not intervene?” Ferrylady whispered, glancing worriedly at the guest lounge herself. She wanted to help dispel such a morose atmosphere, as ironic as that is, for it is her duty for an honored guest, as well as to their noble consultant.

“Shhh~ Not now, Ferrylady. This is getting good.”

“But, madam, this has been going on for three days. Progress is no where to be found.”

“Exactly. This is the most exciting thing that's ever happened to this place!”

"Madam. 'Exciting' is counterproductive to what we strive for in this business."

Ferrylady knew her young boss would have squealed if not for their absolute need for discretion.

No good thing comes from eavesdropping such a private exchange after all.

Hu Tao just hushed her again, silently crawling forward to get a better view. The shadow of the large vase their dear consultant insisted they buy the other day made for a good hiding spot. Something about its story being a distraction for the distraught passed through her mind.

“Miss Ferrylady? H-Hu-zhǔrèn? Why are you crouching down there?”

The two snapped their attention to their new employee, who wore a very bemused expression while pulling at the collar of his stiff uniform.

“Shh! Meng, do you want the troubled souls in the parlor to catch your feet? Drop down behind us now and complete the formation. This is your first assignment~” Hu Tao murmured seriously, an unreadable twinkle reflecting in her eyes. Meng would have gasped out loud if he hadn't slapped his hands over his mouth.

He swiftly did as he was told, back brushing against the wall in the cramped space, before he swiveled worried eyes all around them. Ferrylady just sighed, familiar with their director's ways of keeping someone quiet.

“Now keep quiet for the next half hour you two. Act Two is about to begin~”

-{-}-

Stella mildly wondered if it would be child neglect to jump from the pier right outside the parlor, leaving Mei all alone. It's the only thing she could think of right now to prevent herself from strangling this, this – ugh! This persistent man!

She knows there is a custom of not speaking with customers, out of respect for old tradition – but this one seem to have missed the memo.

Before the day Mei's grandmother passed, the old woman had enough breath to tell her where she wished to have her wake, what she and Mei should wear, what their manners should be during mourning period, and other matters relating to Mei's future.

But despite her meticulous notetaking – her brushstrokes needed lots of work, she knows – Stella still felt unprepared for the kind of reception she received at the infamous Wangsheng ever since their return back at the Harbor.

After tucking in a sleepy Mei in her room, Stella went straight to the parlor, placing three of the Glaze Lilies in the simple pots she requested in advance, nestling them in between wreaths of white flowers surrounding the covered body.

When she finished burning the joss paper for a final offering, she jumped at the male voice directly from behind her. Whirling around, her heart skipped a beat, brows falling low at his short salutation.

The gentleman before her wore a suit that was subtle in opulence, and elegant in form – a large contrast to the uniform worn by the undertakers that assisted her and Mei before taking off to Qingce Village. She noted the thick rings that contrasted against his gloves – rings worn on the thumb, symbolizing the authority the wearer wields, as well as the arrogance boasting of wealth. Her brow had twitched.

“Good evening. May I ask why is the boss of Wangsheng seeing me?” she inquired, arms crossed. Its the only explanation for someone of importance to act like a host in the dark hall.

Despite the hammering beat in her chest, and the lost of color from her face, she stood tall with a firm stance – bracing herself in case this man mocks her for her ignorance. But when no sound of condescension came, she felt unsettled, and focused on his shining tie instead.

It's an unfortunate habit she has around these types she has yet to break, but a good enough technique to show they still have her attention. They usually have some sort of trinket on them – a silken pocket square, an heirloom brooch, or a collar clip – so its not difficult to direct her eye near their neck.

She could have glanced up to a point near their ear, to give the illusion of eye contact - but she didn’t want to remember their face, she has no interest to know of it, to know of them. She has no plans of interacting with this person ever, if she could manage it.

But she was brought out of her thoughts by a sudden chuckle, a smooth and sonorous sound, like rumbling thunder in the distance. It was not taunting or haughty, like she had expected. It sounds like a relief of tension – like heavy rainfall after a long dry spell. Stella took a step back, surprised at her passing thought that it sounded attractive. “I am not the boss of this hallowed hall, much to the confusion of most. You are not the only one who assume so. I am merely one of its consultants. Wangsheng caters to all needs, no matter the status, affiliation, or ethnicity. Hence its forthright pursuit for various advisors in order to fulfill any request – for the benefit of the living, and those that have passed.

I myself do my best to be of assistance to any of our customers, when present.”

“That's, uh, nice?” Stella stuttered, utterly speechless. Not because the explanation lacked clarity – it’s actually worded very eloquently – but because this man, this consultant, was still talking to her, despite the lack of eye contact – a discourtesy these types would easily recognize. It was practically beaten into her head that it was a shameful habit, growing up – that no man would want to be her husband if she does not get over it.

Which motivated her more to never want marriage.

She could feel his eyes roving over her face, the path of their focus mostly resting on her cheeks –surprisingly, never straying down. “Indeed. And if I may say so, you seem to need a boost of energy. Or perhaps a good rest. We offer drinks that could assist you with either. If you allow it, I will prepare it to your liking.”

She tucked her head down, not knowing what to say. Not because she felt flattered or embarrassed by the attention of such an attractive-sounding individual.

But... the thing is –

She hates men.

She really, really hates men.

Growing up in a household that treated her more like a prize than a living being, she had no real choice on how to live her life. Powerful men of elevated backgrounds would strut before her, fluttering their clothes made from rare threads to show off their affluence, leering in greed and unwanted desire at her place behind a special dais – layers of gauzy silks the only physical protection she has from their disgusting gazes. But they were never thick enough for her to block out the absolutely dark intentions in their eyes, nor the reverberating hunger in their sleazy words. It made her skin crawl badly every time – feeling phantom insect's feet trail up and down her arms, creeping sludge up her throat, until it claw up to the sensitive skin of her scalp. No matter how much she bathes in scorching hot water after every encounter, skin scrubbed raw and red, she never manages to erase the feeling right away. Only in sleep could she hope to find peace.

If she even could.

They tell her that her feelings were irrelevant. Her treatment – expected. After all, everyone is led to believe she inherited attributes that show she has the blood of those that dwell in the heavens – in the upper universe that human beings could only dream to reach. And thus her body is seen as a sacred vessel, a carrier for future generations to come – perfect beings that would never suffer from mortal wounds, or mortal illnesses. The mother that shall birth the perfect world. You are one being that can propagate, and produce the most flawless humans the world has ever seen. Humans that would become the paragon for everyone else to aspire to! –

Stella scoffed mutely, unfolding her arms, before stepping back into place. That was what her foolish cousin had thought. Had believed. Had obsessed.

He was a brilliant scholar. A specialist of the unknown. And a zealous believer of their family's history and sacred roots. His fixation with perfection is a flaw in and of itself. A selfish desire that eventually led to everyone's death – especially one she held most dear – Selene. Her sister by name, if not by direct blood. The only relative that actually cared for her, that loved her, that protected her when no one else would.

Selene was the one that taught her how to sing – how to hone the beauty in her voice. She taught her how to fight – with a weapon used by an ancestor who fought her fate until the last of her breath.

Selene taught a many great things, especially other skills that would have otherwise been useless if she was still in her own world – a world that pampered her like a sacred idol, with wings clipped short in a gilded cage.

The very memory of Selene dying in her arms serve as a reminder to never be selfish. To be mindful. To remember that even just one person's open hand is enough to live life for.

But, right now, with her muscles straining from holding her stiff position for so long, she is very much in a mindset to defy her own oath.

She really hates men.

But... she's trying not to. She has to not to – for Meilin's sake:

Most of the fishmongers at the harbor are men – Mei loves seafood.

Most of the chefs are men – Mei loves well-cooked food.

All of the guards are men – Mei trusts them to protect their house and harbor.

If not for Mei, Stella would have gone to live as a hermit by now, fishing or hunting for her own meals, cultivate her own harvests, or protect herself from foolish thieves.

For Mei, she will persevere. For Mei, she will try.

But –

She really hates men.

Specifically, this type of man.

Those greedy monsters cloaked in beauty and money. That speak well of culture and knowledge – both useless, and worthless. For it is a mere show of having been educated on knowledge the masses could not afford to have.

Her heart had not skipped a beat because she finds him attractive – she still doesn’t know what he looks like. But from his clothes, his manners, his flowery words, she could only conclude one thing: this is the type of husband her family had wanted. The traditional type that wanted a traditional wife.

Out of all the typical traits that kind of wife should have: bearing many children, many perfect children, was the main goal. All the while she must always be silent, until spoken to. Be obedient without question. And wise enough to know her place – while being the perfect trophy her husband could boast about.

Stella took deep, silent breaths, controlling her thoughts from making her jump to conclusions.

She had to tread carefully with any man in this world. The people at the market were nice enough so far. Respectful of deals, and follows through with their word.

But, she's not blind to the staring – both the subtle, and the obvious.

Her face, unfortunately, is one of the attributes she inherited from their family's progenitor, their beloved ancestor, and it's been described as appealing at worse, and magnificent at best.

But she pays these no mind. Complements are empty words after all. Especially when they find out she can no longer produce children. That's alright. She has long accepted that any who show interest in her, will soon disregard it after they learn of her disability. Traditional men especially, will throw her away.

That's why – although she has her oath for Selene, and a promise for Gran-gran and Mei – she herself could never give an eternal vow to anyone. Not anymore.

Not after what she's done to herself.

But despite her cold aloofness day after day, night after night, this man remained persistent. Kept pestering to cater to her needs, when she made it perfectly clear the Ferrylady was doing a great job of taking care of her already. That he should focus on more important clientele than her.

Unfortunately, it's the sixth day now of Gran-gran's funeral, and she's still being served personally by the stubborn consultant with the alluring voice, who wouldn't stop inquiring if she was able to get a good night's sleep after clearly seeing she isn't. She knows the bags under her eyes are getting darker, and the whites of her eyes turning red with dryness.

It's times like this she misses those blissful sleep of white nothingness – the long morning nap, and the night she and Mei had to camp out before arriving at the harbor. The only explanation for them was the presence of that little guardian that wrapped around her snuggly like a giant tree in its branches – one made out of scales, and gems, and warmth.

Ah. But it isn't a tree, is it? It was a dragon – or so Mei said. A legendary creature that is normally large and serpentine in form and built – either something that brings about disorder and chaos, or something that protects with might and force.

“Good thing Mr. Guardian is the protector type!” Mei had added brightly, even though Stella knew the little girl was extremely disheartened to see it disappear in the distance after escorting them to the edge of Liyue Harbor, fluffy tail flickering in a silent wave.

She will admit to miss its strange, yet comforting presence. The soothing calm she can feel as she stares at its amber eyes – whether out of vexation or gratitude. It would wrap around her like a thick blanket, enveloping her in a warmth she could feel in her bones, and in her heart.

Ah, well. Maybe she'll look to tame one of the strays around the area. See which ones are easy to domesticate. Maybe, one of them would have eyes as gold as Mr. Guardian. Maybe then she'll be able to cuddle up to something and get some much needed sleep.

-{-}-

As the lady continued to fantasize of respite, a lost look entering her eyes, Morax thought now is the right time for a change. Where diplomacy fails, action may succeed.

When her hand moved to subtly rest at her waist, trying to reach her back, and a pained look briefly passed over her expression, he acted – for the first time – without a second thought.

“You have not slept well after I left, have you?”

Morax murmured low, well aware of their audience in the background, but reached out to her nonetheless, touching the tip of her nose, hoping his action would trigger a memory, their memory, together.

He patiently waited for her indignant squeals and sputters to subside, staring steadily at her face until her angry gaze focused back on his.

She turned silent immediately, a great confusion painted her features. Her hand hovered close to his face – no doubt to slap him for his boldness.

The quiet this time was not uncomfortable – it felt very nostalgic, like the thrum of water drops on stone, or the hum of rocks being mined from the earth.

The kind of silence that defined their first meeting, letting her tug him free from her pack, and staring at him with open bewilderment – with awe-filled curiosity set deep in her exquisite eyes.

“...Mr. Guardian?” she uttered, like a secret, both hopeful and afraid. She withdrew her hand to cover her mouth, while her body sagged heavily on her chair.

Sitting still was never a problem, but the want to comfort made his hand ache. He could only smile for now, to acknowledge the charming moniker, and to prevent from startling her further.

Blinking once, she took in his face. Blinking twice, she fisted her hand.

She suddenly covered her eyes, rubbing them incessantly, as if his image burned her physically and she's trying to find relief. He gave in and reached out, holding them still – something he could not do before lest he hurt her with his claws.

When she focused back on him, eyes turning anxious, Morax slowly lifted a third infused cup, carefully wrapped her fingers around it, before slowly letting go. He rested his arms at his sides and turned entirely to her – hoping his body language was open enough for her to let down her guard, just as she always was while he was Exuvia. He noticed her sitting up straight against her chair, eyes asking questions upon questions mutely in the air.

A dull thud from behind them went unnoticed.

“Please. Have a drink. Let it soothe your nerves.

The sea breeze outside will do much good for your head. Let me escort you to where the water meets the wall. And there, we might be afforded better privacy for your questions,” Morax softly besieged. He cut his gaze to the screen behind them, letting his focus rest on it for some time. Nearly silent sets of feet scurried away after a moment.

“Okay,” the lady consented, breaking through his concentration. When Morax gazed back, she took a long, slow sip, seeming to finally savor the tea he served, making him sit a little straighter in his seat. Her eyes softened slowly, and watered as recognition set in, which in turn made him tug at the corner of his lips in relief.

-{-}-

A knock was heard, before the slide of the door reached Meng's ears. “Yahooo. How is she? Have you revived Ferrylady yet?”

“Uhm, I'm afraid not, ma'am. Maybe this is a good thing? It's better if she has her rest for the night,” Meng whispered back, blowing the lantern light out as his co-worker rested heavily on her bed.

The director and undertaker silently went out, walking away from the sleeping quarters as both thought back on the circumstances of the Ferrylady's fainting. “Yeah. Might as well~ Zhongli-xiānsheng certainly put her in quite a shock. I almost saw her spirit escape from her! Too bad it happened before we got to see what our consultant did to make our guest putty in his hands. Looks like that hermit strikes again! At least this time the lady seems like his age – physically I mean – and totally not like his stuffy personality. I like her~” Hu Tao sang, thinking of giving the lady a small discount on the incense she'll need to use tomorrow.

“W-would it really be alright to leave them alone?” Meng asked, nervously pulling at his gloves.

“Hmm? Any concerns I should know about? Oh! Is she one of those pretending to play 'hard to get', but actually wants to snatch Zhongli-xiānsheng for herself~?” Hu Tao asked, fluttering her eyes exaggeratedly.

“No, Hu-zhǔrèn! You got it entirely wrong.”

“Oh?”

Meng furrowed his brow, organizing his thoughts. “From what I heard, as well as my own experience in assisting her, she tends to avoid men. All men. Except maybe the kids and the grandpas. I saw her hand quake once when I accidentally brushed hands with her trying to move her potted plants for her.”

“I didn't think you had it in you. You sly dog~”

“No no no, Hu-zhǔrèn! You misunderstand again!” Meng waved his arms frantically in front on him. “I mean... yes! I'll admit she's very beautiful. A-and she seems considerate, and kind. But she's a little, uhh, too beautiful? Even I know I'm not a good match for her. But her skittish behavior makes me feel like, like scum – like the lowest of the low,” he said dejectedly, shoulders falling. “She makes me feel guilty for even breathing in her space.”

Hu Tao hummed, a finger on her lips, before her brows quirked up in surprise at Meng’s suddenly spirited stance. “A few of the guys at the wharf noticed too, and speculated something must have happened to her. It's really sad to think of the possibilities. But we all talked about it, and agreed to do our best to be gentle in our interactions with her. No touch. Keep a good distance. And watch our words. We don’t want her to feel like we’re boars on the prowl.”

“Wow. Well done, Meng,” whistled Hu Tao, smiling wide.

“E-erm. Thank you?” Meng scratched at his head, face turning red in embarrassment.

“That's the longest I've heard you speak. Ever! I'm so proud of you~ You're not such a pitiful scaredy cat aftercall,” Hu Tao hooted in glee.

“W-what? M-madam...” Meng groaned, head falling down on his chest in dismay.

Hu Tao giggled softly, and changed her carefree stance. She gently patted him on the shoulder to get his attention. “Just kidding~ You really have to lighten up.

But, I didn't lie. What you're doing is very honorable. And even if you're too common for someone like her, I'm sure in time she'll notice and appreciate what you all are doing.”

Was that supposed to be comforting? Ugh. I still don't understand the director. I have so much to learn.

“Besiiides. If you guys are honorable already as ordinary citizens, what more someone of Zhongli-xiānsheng's caliber?”

Meng nodded, smiling brightly. “You're absolutely right, ma'am. I should not have doubted his intentions.”

“Maybe by now, he's escorting her home. So let's have faith in our reliable consultant!”

“Yes, ma'am!”

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[←Previous] | Chapter 6 | [ Next → ]

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A/N: Just to clarify, Hu Tao meant Zhongli is such a devastating lady-killer. He just doesn’t know it. And yes, more eye-flirting with these two. Sighs. He has such pretty eyes. Updated again on 04/15/2021 because I’m my own biggest critic.

Gong fu style of serving tea is so mesmerizing to watch. I can see Zhongli do it every time.

Fun fact: In ancient China, yellow tea was indeed considered very rare. And since yellow is the traditional imperial color, only emperors are able to enjoy it. Unless they deem a guest fit to be served the tea - which is considered a high honor.

Zhongli’s rerun banner is coming up sooner than I thought. I should have known Genshin would have a mid-anniversary thing too. Or something like it. I panicked, caved in, and bought the Blessing of the Welkin. His mats are not readyyyy aiyaah

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Follower Tag: @meladollsims

#to be seen #zhongli #zhongli x female OC #zhongli x oc #fanfiction #shapeshifting archon #ferrylady #hu tao #meng #Wangsheng's side business is matchmaking

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gryfon-spanish-werewolf · 4 years

Text

Spirit

@jabs-wocks made a comment about being in the mood for some angst and @justlookatthosesausages was talking about some post F2 ending/altered canon stuff the other day so I was inspired. I also wanted to make it October prompt-esque, so this one was about the word ‘Spirit’, which eventually just became the title

Edit: Also tumblr mobile? Hate you my guy, you literally deleted the entire text as I posted it, I saw you do it, so I’m here on my desktop. [Sigh] So here’s take 2.

-----

Perhaps life would never go back to normal in Arendelle. Though, how could it? The discovery of a decades long secret? The realization that the country they loved so dearly was capable of cruelty? And what to do with the Northuldra? Unite in shared blood despite history? Make reparations but go separate ways?

These are the questions that loom over Elsa and Anna in the weeks after their adventure to the Enchanted Forest.

Despite requests to stay, Elsa did return to Arendelle. Considering the circumstances, the Northuldra didn’t take offense, and welcomed her whenever she could take time away to visit and learn. But Anna sees how the days wore on her sister, rushing this way and that, rarely ever pausing to rest.

Which isn’t new, Anna sighs, watching as Elsa sets down her quill and leaves the office, closing the door behind her. A small squeak comes from the floor and Anna sees poor Bruni plop back down after launching himself towards the gap in the doorway. He’d been a second too late.

“Aww, are you okay?” Anna kneels down to check on him. “You’ll have to forgive her, she’s got a lot on her mind.”

Bruni chirps again, giving Anna a smile and an excited pitter-patter of feet. “Oh, of course,” Anna nods, “I should have known you’d already forgiven her. A wise and powerful spirit.”

The little salamander sparks magenta flame at the praise and darts away, wiggling himself under the door and scampering after Elsa.

Though the Enchanted Forest was many miles away, the spirits are often around, and have complete freedom to roam Arendelle castle. When they visit they spend the most time around the two Fifth Spirits, acknowledging Anna as one of their own. Some are more confined than others however: the Nokk could not leave the water without Elsa’s help, but it was a pleasant enough companion to sit with by the fjord.

Anna finds the Nokk there now, observing the ships coming and going.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Anna asks. The Nokk turns it’s watery head her way, snorting a greeting. “I used to watch them from my window all the time.” Anna takes a seat next to the horse who is lounging on the sand, where the surf laps at the shore. “I’ll bet you used to watch ships come and go near Ahtohallan, before the Forest closed up.” She brings her chin to her knees. The sea washes against the spirit’s body, absorbed at regular intervals to swirl around it’s flank and belly. “Maybe without the Mist you would have seen my parents’.”

The Nokk glances up at her, attentive. Anna gazes back, trying to find answers in it’s bright blue eyes. “Would you have saved them?” The Nokk’s ear flicks but it’s expression doesn’t change. Anna chuckles to herself. “From the stories Elsa told, perhaps you wouldn’t have. You were trapped and angry and scared in the Forest. Maybe you would have seen them as just one more threat.”

A whiny is her reply, and while Anna may still be learning about the Nokk, she’s been around flesh and blood horses enough to know that the creature in front of her does look a little remorseful.

“It’s alright, I don’t blame you.” Anna leans back and looks skyward, at the clouds racing overhead. “And I know that you would now, even if we’re both uncertain of back then. Elsa may have been at the reins, but from what I heard, it was you that sped faster than a tidal wave to make it back here before Arendelle was destroyed. And your power that helped her hold the water back. I will always be grateful to you for saving my… our home.”

The Nokk lowers it’s head and rests it near her knee, letting out a long sigh that sends ripples across the shallow waves and scatters sand towards her hands. This time, it’s eyes search hers.

Anna takes pity on the spirit. “It’s okay. You couldn’t be in two places at once. Besides,” she emphasized, “you hadn’t met me yet and the dam was in the opposite direction of Arendelle. How were you to know?”

A raising of voices sounds over the wall, a commotion in the courtyard.

“Kristoff must be back,” Anna says, rising. “I should make sure everything’s alright.” The Nokk blinks slowly in farewell and dissolves back into the sea.

She was right - Kristoff had returned. As Anna enters the gates she spies Sven already being fed and watered by an enthusiastic Olaf. The reindeer looks tired, no doubt riding hard to get back before sundown. Even the proximity of Olaf’s carrot nose doesn’t seem to perk him up.

And though it was Sven who’d done all the running, Kristoff is the one who looks the most weary. He and Elsa are deep in conversation as Anna approaches, and while she’s not yet close enough to hear, she can see by the slump in his shoulders that he’s not happy.

Ever since they returned from the Forest, Kristoff has volunteered his time connecting with the Northuldra, helping them however they needed as they adjusted to life free of the Mist. Additionally, he began serving as Arendelle’s unofficial ambassador when Elsa couldn’t be around herself. At first Elsa had tried to dissuade him, saying he needed to recover from his own experiences in the Forest, that he didn’t need to serve Arendelle in a capacity he wasn’t comfortable with. He just laughed and tugged on his sash, saying, “Well you never know, Elsa. They might just be my family too.”

The travels were clearly wearing on him, but Kristoff seemed to want to keep moving, keep occupied, always doing something with his feet and his hands.

But Anna doesn’t miss the way he sinks gratefully into Elsa’s warm embrace. Doesn’t miss the way they hug tight. How Elsa disappears behind his broad shoulder, taking a moment to hide in it’s shadow. How Kristoff’s hands pull her close, as though to remind him of something.

“It will be dark soon,” Anna hears Kristoff say as they separate. Elsa turns her head to the west, then up into the hills.

“I’ll be back before dinner,” Elsa says without looking back. Kristoff nods and steps back.

A horse, already prepared, is brought to Elsa which she mounts and steers towards the gates. She’s about to leave when Kristoff calls her name softly from the ground. “Elsa?” Anna is nearly level with them now, but pauses at his tone. “It’s okay if you’re late. We… we understand. Just,” he shuffles on his feet before laying a hand on the horse’s side and meeting her eye. “Take care of yourself, promise?”

Elsa’s eyes glisten for a moment before she nods. “I’ve made a lot of promises recently,” she replies, her voice strained. “But I’ll keep this one.”

She flicks the reins and departs. Kristoff doesn’t linger either, heading back into the castle with Olaf and Sven.

Anna looks between the two groups: at the rapidly disappearing back of her sister and at the somber march of the three heading home. She puts her hands on her hips.

“Honestly,” she huffs, “no one around here knows how to take a break!”

She hears a chittering whistle above her head. Laughter, strange for certain, but a sound Anna has come to love.

“Glad you agree, Gale,” Anna smiles as Gale weaves around her clothes in greeting. Another glance tells Anna that Kristoff and the others were nearly inside. Elsa on the other hand had vanished as soon as she left town. Anna bites her lip as Gale swirls pensively around her. “I know I should probably check on Kristoff but… he does have Sven and Olaf. He- he’ll be alright, for now.” She points a finger at Gale, “But remind me, okay? If I forget that’s on you.”

Gale titters in a way that can only be sarcastic, but it only makes Anna grin wider. “Sure, sure, if I really do forget then I’ll let you toss me up and down in a whirlwind until I remember. But I think you forget that I’ve gotten pretty good at coasting your wind. It won’t be like the first time.”

At this Gale slows, almost bashful, and presses into Anna’s cheek like a cat. “It’s alright! You were just being cautious! Protecting the Forest and all. Geez,” she blew a little air of her own at the wind spirit, making it chitter that laugh again. “What’s with you spirits? So sentimental.”

She sizes up the rest of the courtyard. The horsekeeper is heading in now that his job is over, and the rest of the animals were locked away. Gale races forward, toying with a latch to one of the horse stables.

“No!” Anna reprimands. “I don’t need to take a horse. And especially since-,” she falters. “Just… walk with me? It’ll be good to have someone to talk to.”

Gale floats for a moment, then heads back to tug on Anna’s sleeve, urging her forward. “Alright, alright!” Anna laughs breathlessly, letting herself be led. “I’m coming! Aren’t I the one who invited you?”

They don’t have to travel far, Anna knows where Elsa was heading.

The sun is a golden wedge on the mountain’s rocky sides, sending deep purple shadows towards the east. There’s a clearing in the forest up ahead, one Anna knows well. She passes Elsa’s horse, giving it a wide berth so as not to spook the timid creature.

She hears the sobs she expected, but the sound still cuts her, deeper than any sword.

Elsa is on her knees before the towering headstones of their parents. She hunches over herself, arms crossed against her chest, trying to contain, still, after all these years, the grief and sorrow that live inside her ribs. Her pale hair hangs over her face, which is only a few inches from the ground.

Today has been hard.

Anna knows that Elsa had likely started standing, likely started with talking. Talking until the emotions welled up like the tide, sloshing back and forth and knocking her off balance until something tipped and it all spilled out, scattering her words and knocking her legs out from underneath her.

Anna knows because she’s seen it before: the first, second, and third time Anna took Elsa to see their parent’s grave after the Thaw.

But Anna also knows that that isn’t why Elsa is here this time.

Anna approaches and gazes at the earth before her. It’s been well kept, but of course it has. Just enough time has passed for new grass to grow, despite the soft nip of winter at the end of the night. Gifts and decorations still adorn the site, fresh flowers, a stuffed reindeer, a whittled sunflower, and many, many Arendelle flags.

A sound comes Elsa then. Raw. Agonized. Keening.

Inhuman.

Inhuman in that no human being should ever sound like the weight of their despair is crushing them, breaking them, hollowing them out.

Anna is at her side immediately, and she knows, she knows what will happen but she can’t stop herself. The sight of her sister’s suffering sends trills through her very soul, un-ignorable.

She places a hand on Elsa’s shoulder, in comfort, and watches it go right through. Ethereal. Translucent.

Ghostly.

Elsa grieves in front of a third headstone in the clearing, one that bears Anna’s name, and continues to weep.

Anna finds no purchase on her sister’s form. She hasn’t since the first day she got back from the Forest. She walked those miles by herself, alone, the spirits gone or busy with the living. When she finally returned to Arendelle --after the damn, after the flood, after… the dark, dark waters-- she saw Elsa and Kristoff and ran forward. Forgetting herself, wanting only to greet them and love them.

They walked right through her embrace, like she wasn’t even there.

Because she wasn’t.

Bruni found her two days later, on the roof above Elsa’s room. Unwilling to stay too close but unable to tear herself away from her friends, her family.

Her life.

That the spirits could see her was a small comfort. Very, very small. But at least she wasn’t alone anymore. She’d had plenty of that.

Anna recoils as Elsa shudders through an exhale, her next breath wet and clogged and shallow. Snowflakes start to fall from the sky though there are no clouds, swirling and sticking to grass and fallen leaves. Elsa’s control is slipping, and Anna can’t take it anymore.

“Gale-,” Anna’s voice breaks. “Please...”

The wind spirit knows what she is asking.

It takes a few seconds, but soon leaves and soft grass stems swirl gently around Elsa’s body, dancing in air, pressing gently against her hands to coax them free of their white knuckled grieving. “Gale?” Elsa asks breathlessly, and Anna feels the need to cry herself. Her sister’s voice is hoarse and fragile. Weak like a fractured eggshell. Flower petals wipe away the tears that soak Elsa’s cheeks. Gale tips Elsa’s head up as more objects join the bobbing air current, drawn from the forest and hills beyond.

“What are you...?” Elsa begins, but as a shape takes form she gasps, fresh tears brimming in her eyes.

A simple crown weaves itself into creation before her. Sunflower petals interlace with stalks of wheat and flashes of red maple leaves, bound together with precision and care. The purple head of a crocus flower, the last of the year, or perhaps the first of the new, is the final piece added before the adornment floats toward Elsa’s head and settles atop her hair, as gentle as a mother’s hand.

Or a sister’s.

Recognition widens Elsa’s eyes and she whirls around, staggering upright on unsteady feet.

“Anna!?”

The desperation, the hope, rings out like glass on the brink of shattering. Anna feels her breath catch in her throat as her sister looks at her for the first time since the ice boat ferried her away down the side of a cliff. She reaches out like she did before, even takes a step forward.

Until she realizes Elsa’s eyes are still searching. Looking past her.

After a few moments where Elsa’s heart hammers in her chest and Anna’s tries to recall what that might be like, Elsa’s shoulders drop and it’s a folding, a shrinking, an inward sinking. She is smaller than Anna has ever seen her.

But...

Elsa takes the crocus flower from the crown, plucks a sunflower petal and a soft head of wheat, and with a careful weaving of her own she protects them in ice. Smaller, but no less special than the frozen star atop the Christmas tree years ago, and cradled with just as much care.

Elsa holds the creation to her chest and Anna feels Gale nestle around her shoulders.

Both sisters speak at the same time.

“Thank you. I love you. I miss you.”

#October Story Haul #guess that's what I'm calling it now #I want to do more of these so feel free to drop me a prompt: a word a lyric a sentence etc etc #anyway the idea kept me up the other night and I don't usually write angst so hopefully it pushes the right buttons #(and as you can see I couldn't even commit to 100% full on angst I had to make it at least a LITTLE hopeful xD)#I TRIED but... then I got too sad so y'know #anyway #jabs-wocks #I hope this fills whatever need you had xD #justlookatthosesausages #your posts are always so funny and when it's fandom-related it usually makes me think too xD #so here's to you two for no additional reason other than I really wanted to write something and you both gave me an excuse #cheers #Anna #Elsa #Kristoff #Sven #Olaf #Bruni #Nokk #Gale #tw: death #mourning #alternate F2 ending #alternate ending #Post Frozen 2 #Frozen 2 canon divergent #ghost #burying this in the tags so y'all can't spoil yourselves but so that people who have tags can still filter #my writing

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