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waynedunlaptheorgandonor · 3 years

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watched s11ep1

i will provide you with a quick review before i disappear back into the ether of twd avoidance

lots of spoilers under the cut. also i wrote way too much and i worked all night and haven’t slept so i didn’t bother to reread literally any of it, so it might be completely nonsensical, tho if you don’t expect that from me by this point idk whose blog you’ve been reading

enjoy:

hokay, first off, i’ll start by saying that i enjoyed it more than i expected to. i’ve been avoiding any sort of discussion about stuff, but my google algorithm is so fucked at this point that i still get recommended articles and stuff every now and then, so i was already pretty aware of what i was walking into, and was expecting it to be eh, but actually i prob enjoyed it more than i enjoyed the finale

(don’t get too excited tho, the finale was rly boring lmfao)

anyway

episode starts off with a tense scouting mission

it takes .005 seconds into the episode for caryl to exchange a look of longing, establishing that they are still having weird conflict and are both too fucking stubborn to do anything about it even tho they hate it desperately

i imagine that will continue for a while

rosita, kelly, carol, maggie, what’s her face with the bad hair, and lydia (i think that’s everyone?) lower down to some army bunker or something, where a bunch of walkers are taking a snooze, and the girls are very respectful of walker naptime, and do their best not to wake them up

obviously they eventually wake up, but i’ll get to that in a sec

as they’re tiptoeing through the walker tulips, there’s this split second where carol spots a machine gun, and looks at maggie with a face like, “can i plzzzz, i am mad horny for that machine gun,” but maggie tells her no. (i 110% expected her to defy orders and accidentally wake up all the walkers, but she actually behaved herself for once. well. mostly)

never fear, tho, after the girl gang collects a bunch of MREs they go back to wait for the dudes waiting up top to pull them up, and bc men ruin everything, one of the ropes break, and daryl catches it before it falls, but then a slow motion drop of blood falls on a walker’s face, and just like that, walker naptime is over, and carol uses her bow and arrow for two seconds before she is like “fuck this” and whips out the machine gun

yes, she is super hot using it

yes, daryl watches her do it

anyway, all the other girls get rescued, and carol is about to be pulled up, but bc she is a #girlboss, she first makes a beeline for one more crate full of MREs. daryl covers her while she gets the loot, and when she gets back up top they have another charged moment as carol hands him back his knife

just fuck already, jfc

titles!

cut to alexandria where everything is still not smilestimes

BUT, we do get to see uncle daryl run and hug rj and judith (and dog), and FUCKING HERSHEL JR, LIGHT OF MY LIFE is also there

istg, they could not have casted a better child, i a d o r e him

oh, and some friends of maggie’s show up too, idk

cut to a staff meeting where everyone is like, whomp whomp, we’re all gonna starve to death unless we figure out something quick

cue maggie going, “oh, i know where food is, but it requires me to tell you my tragic backstory, in case anyone didn’t watch my bottle episode”

she tells her dramatic backstory about all her friends getting slaughtered by the reapers for no apparent reason, and then she’s like “anyway, let’s go back there!”

no one thinks it’s a great idea, but a group of people decide to go anyway, including daryl and gabriel. rosita is super pissed that gabriel is going, and carol doesn’t go, probably partly bc it’s a shitty fucking idea, and also bc they have to keep caryl apart bc otherwise they’ll fix their problems ahead of schedule and they won’t be able to drag out the needless angst

daryl looks kind of annoyed that carol doesn’t volunteer to go

bitch, i thought you wanted her to stop putting herself in the line of fire! make up your damn mind!

moving on

cut to a thunderstorm, where, if you look closely, you’ll notice daryl is wearing the STUPIDEST hat i’ve ever seen. just get an umbrella, jfc

for some reason negan is with them, bc ig he knows his way around washington dc, and no one in six years has bothered to figure out how to get around the city and/or get a map, and he is like “hey guys, maybe we shouldn’t try to walk in this fucking hurricane,” and everyone is like “FUCK YOU NEGAN, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF US!!!”

this will be a common occurrence

but eventually daryl is even like “actually, it’s rly unpleasant out here, and my hat is mad stupid, can we go inside plz?”

so they go inside an old metro station, which is actually a rly cool cinematic choice. i rly like the idea, and they executed it rly well

speaking of executions

there are some fucking RULL CREEPY walkers. idk why they bothered me so badly, but they were what they at first assumed were corpses wrapped up in tarps, but turns out none of them had been properly put down, so they go through killing these rotted bodies that had supposedly been there since The Fall, and it’s very gross and cool

this entire time, btw, negan is like “hey, i know i’m a shitty person, but i have some rational arguments about why we shouldn’t be doing this right now,” and everyone is like, “FUCK YOU NEGAN, YOU’RE NOT THE BOSS OF US!!!” and he’s just like “god fucking damnit”

(i forgot to mention that at one point, when they’re headed into the metro station, negan is trying to warn ppl of the potential danger, and everyone is ignoring him, and he tries to talk to daryl, and daryl is like “fuck you, you think we’re BUDDIES?” and negan is like “oh, ok, so you’re gonna be like that too? fanfreakingtastic” and it’s very funny)

anyway. a fat monster zombie escapes its tarp at one point, and tries to eat some npc, and negan saves him, again is like “hey, anyone else realize that this is a FUCKING BAD PLAN?”, and everyone is like “we don’t care, you’re still shitty and we’re not listening to you, and you don’t actually care about random npc i would literally not be able to pick out in a lineup bc his face is so generic, you’re not the boss of us!!!”

it’s at this point that negan finally is like, “why am i even here? bc i know how to get around washington dc? do none of you have a map?” and i was like, “right?! that’s what i said!”

it’s then revealed that maggie only brought negan along to murder him under the guise of “oops, he got hurt in the line of duty, it wasn’t my fault,” and daryl has this look on his face that says, “i seriously need to stop hanging out with lethal women bent on revenge bc it’s gonna give me high blood pressure,” and maggie has a badass moment where she points a gun she has for some reason at negan and is like “i have like, one shred of human compassion left inside of me, and if you keep pushing me i will fucking kill you without a second thought, so shut the hell up”

(in her defense, negan had just dropped glenn’s name to purposely antagonize her, which was rude as hell)

(for the record, i’m completely on maggie’s side here, but negan still is right that trapping themselves in a metro station is a bad call)

anyway, moving away from that briefly

i think this jump cut happens sooner, i don’t actually remember, but whatever who cares, point is, we get to the part of the show that actually matters, and that’s anything involving my love, juanita “princess” sanchez

and also eugene, yumiko, and ezekiel

they are being asked increasingly invasive questions by commonwealth ppl, some of which i wish they actually would of answered (what do they use to wipe their asses with?? surely toilet paper has long since become extinct)

zeke, who is so much more tolerable as a character now that he’s not larping as a king, has this incredibly weird and sort of sexually charged moment with a dude in an orange stormtrooper costume, where he’s like, “i bet you were an asshole cop back before The Fall, you stupid fascist, #fuckthepolice, mb literally? idk, this moment has a lot of pent up aggression that could easily translate to hate sex, it might just be the intense eye contact, but w/e, let’s just move along,” and then he has a coughing fit to remind the audience that he’s currently dying of cancer, and orange stormtrooper is like “lolz, loser, drink some water you dumb piece of shit”

cut to the wholesome foursome sitting at a picnic table in a guarded courtyard eating gruel, and yumkio, who finally has a personality, and princess are like “hey, this place fucking sucks, can we leave?” and zeke is like, “yeah, i met this orange stormtrooper who i think might be dtf and/or murder, so we should probably bounce”

but eugene is like, “but i want some hot stephanie ass, and also some bullshit excuse about how mb commonewealth will save alexandria” which, they left before things went super downhill, right? idr. it was after hilltop fell, but they don’t know alexandria got fucked either, if i recall? w/e, not important

two seconds after he says this, they talk to some people who are like “we’ve been here for four months, or maybe it’s been nine, i don’t actually remember, i’ve stopped processing the passage of time,” and the wholesome foursome takes this as a bad sign, tho that’s just the life i’ve lived as a night worker during a pandemic, so i was like #mood

but then they watch some guy get dragged away screaming to get “reprocessed” and eugene is like “ok, nvm, let’s bounce”

(my theory on what “reprocessing” is, is that they’re stuck in a room and have to watch hours and hours of customer service training videos on vhs from the 90s)

i definitely got my jump cut scenes mixed up bc i think the negan accusing maggie of a murder plot thing happened in between this scene and then the next commonwealth scene, but w/e, i’ll just finish what happens in the commonwealth arch

the wholesome foursome are trying to hatch a plan to escape, except princess, my love, is distracted watching some stormtroopers flirt, and the other three are like “wtf, dude, how can you even tell any of them apart?” and princess then tells them every stormtroopers backstory bc she is brilliant and pays rly close attention to shit, and the other three are like, “this is useful information, thank you for being an insane person”

their plan involves yumiko and eugene dressing up as stormtroopers and leading princess and zeke out of the place, which works fine actually, except on their way out they come across the Depressing Wall of Probably Mostly Dead Missing Loved Ones

they’re about to leave, when princess is like, “wait, yumiko, you’re on here, that’s weird huh?”

sure enough, yumiko is on the wall, with a note from ig her sister

the scene ends with yumiko going, “guys...i can’t leave...i have tragic backstory to unveil”

tragic backstory to be continued ig

back in murder metro town, npc and some other npc have stolen all the supplies, there’s a train blocking the track, and a horde of walkers are coming towards them, so things are not going fantastic

they horde is too big to take down, so they start to climb on top of the train car to get away

but dog runs away!

and daryl, being every pet owner ever, is like “gotta go get my dog, guys, try not to get killed while i’m gone, c u soon!” and he ducks under the train and disappears

#priorities

the episode ends with maggie climbing up the train car but getting grabbed by a walker and dangling off the edge, and negan is there and they have a lion king moment where maggie is like, “scar! help me!” and negan is like “long live the king, bitch” and walks away into the shadows, leaving maggie to a potential death

which, while i know isn’t actually going to happen, would be a really fucking funny move on the writers’ part

like, “look, lauren’s back! and now she’s dead, bet you didn’t expect that!”

anyway

my assumption is negan will actually end up helping her up or something, continuing his ambiguous morality bullshit that actually isn’t ambiguous bc he BEAT GLENN TO DEATH WITH A FUCKING BAT WRAPPED IN BARBED WIRE IN FRONT OF HIS PREGNANT WIFE

the maggie/negan arch is kind of dumb, but whatevs, i’ll tolerate it, as long as my boy glenn gets justice in the end

anyway, cue credits!

final assessment: good episode. i’m much more interested in commonwealth than the reapers, tho i am hoping that daryl’s personality-less ex turns out to be a monster killing machine with no conscience, that’ll be fun. princess is a gift from god. hershel jr needs his own tv show. needs more carol (and caryl)

the end! going back into my walking dead free chamber! see you next episode!

-diz

#i didn't mean to recap the entire fucking episode lol #sorry #it's to make up for my lack of content lately #or something #anyway #caryl #twd s11ep1 #twd s11 spoilers #dunlap tp

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shadybagelsludgecolor · 3 years

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Last Words to My Love [Gn!Reader x Spencer Reid]

A/N: This is inspired by a tiktok chain I saw so please bare with me. Also I'm really not good at heartbreak writing so..... this is this and yeah. WOAH wrote this in an hour

Summary: Reader is on borrowed time after being fatally wounded. They say their goodbye’s with Spencer.

Pairing: Reid x Gn!Reader

Rating: sad but sweet.

My [short] masterlist can be found here.

Warning: Idk , Death, angst, murder, cursing, sad ending.

Word Count: 1.3k

Today was the day Spencer lost himself. The day it was all too much. The day the weight on his shoulders finally broke him. It was the day Spencer lost you.

The day had gone by fairly quickly, the unsub was [thankfully] very predictable. You had caught up to him really fast, thanks to Spencer’s amazing geographic profile, and your ability to decode the messages the killer left behind. As you approached the apartment of Sheila Jacobs, the latest victim, you took caution. Something didn’t feel right. Then again, you’re approaching a serial killer with a hostage; how was it supposed to feel? Hotch signals the team to begin their silent entrance, and guns aimed, you entered the apartment.

“Jared Anderson? FBI. Drop the weapon.”

“Don’t move. I swear to god I will shoot her. Stay back!”

Holstering your weapon, you begin, “Jared? It’s alright. We don’t want to hurt you. Let Sheila go and we can work this out.”

“You think that’s fair? After what she did to me? All those years in high school? Nuh-uh. I don think so.”

He had a far point. This Sheila girl was, according to Garcia, a Grade-A mean girl. She and her friends, all of which now dead, tormented Jared all throughout high school. Of course, that doesn't excuse murder, but your heart slightly ached for Jared.

“Look, Jared. I’m with you. Sheila really is a bitch.” You knew what you were doing and so did your team, which is why they allowed you to continue, hands in a position of surrender, hoisted in the air.

“See! That’s why she needs to die!”

“No, Jared. She doesn't. She needs to live. Think about it! Think about what all the news channels are going to say! You will finally get to be the victim Jared. Nobody is going to feel sorry for the bully. She practically brought this on herself. Let her go so we can show the world how fake this woman really is.”

Hoping that this worked, you study Jared’s face. Of course, you didn't mean any of this, but Jared's fantasy has blurred the lines of reality, and now all you had to do was play along.

You see Jared’s face soften as he begins to surrender. He let’s sheila go, and she runs behind you, probably into the arms of Tara or JJ. You reached for the gun Jared held, when suddenly he jerked his arm away, aiming the gun right in between your eyes.

“Wait. You lied to me. I can see it in your face.”

“Don’t do this Jared.” You heard Derek say firmly in the background.

“What? You mean this?”

Two gunshots. That’s all it took. One from the revolver Spencer carried, and one from the handgun Jared possessed.

Your side felt warm. Rubbing your fingers over the area, you felt pain. A lot of it. Your bloody fingertips only confirmed your theory; you'd been shot.

The rest was a blur. Bouncing in and out of consciousness, losing so much blood, your head pounding, your side throbbing, the screams of your team calling for an ambulance.

This might just be it, you thought, my final moments.

“Hey. Listen to me, okay? I need you to stay awake for me. The ambulance is a couple of minutes away. Stay awake for me and for them okay?”

You felt your body lift off the cold ground. Your turn your head.

“Spencer.”

“Shh. Shh, it's okay. I’ve got you. Just stay with me, okay? Stay awake sweetheart.” Tears were streaming down his face as he attempted to flash a comforting smile at you. He had never called you that before...sweetheart. You liked the sound of it. It sounded much better than ‘Agent’. You tried your hardest, you really did, to stay awake.

You know, maybe the darkness isn't so bad. It’s warm there. Let me go there.

“Hey. I said stay awake.”

The bright white of the ambulance severely contrasted that of your beautiful darkness. It took you a second to adjust but once you did, you saw Spencer. The beautiful agent stared down at you. You wish you could tell him sooner, you thought, how beautiful he was. He needed to hear that. You wish you had the energy to tell him that now. He needed to hear those words, even if they were your last.

“I love you” you managed to croak out.

“Hey, hey. I love you too. Save your words okay? Talk to me when you’re recovering.”

You could tell by the look on his face that it was hopeless. You were too far gone. Nothing could save you.

“It was always you.”

“W-What?”

Damnit. If you weren't so weak, you'd tell him everything. You’d tell him how you had looked forward to going to work if it meant seeing him. You'd tell him that his big brain amazed you and that you blushed every time he would ramble about some irrelevant fact that only he seemed to know. You’d tell him that at times, you'd dream of kissing his soft, pink lips. You’d tell him how sometimes when you felt lonely, you’d hold your palms together, imagining they were his. You’d tell him that you loved him and that he was pretty stupid for a genius to not see it. You wish you could tell him everything, but you couldn’t. Your words, much like your time, were limited.

Somehow, someway, Spencer understood. He understood what you meant. He took your hand in his, tears incessantly leaking out of his eyes.

“The thought of loosing you makes it bard to breathe. I wish you could stay. I wish you could see how much I need you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I wish I would've told you sooner. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Its okay. In another life” You knew Spencer didn't believe in this, but maybe you would. These thoughts comforted you in this sad time.

“Visit my dreams, would you? Find me again. I can't make it here without you.” He was sobbing. He lifted your hand to his face, your skin feeling the cool tears that streamed down his cheeks. You were slipping away, you could feel it.

Before you could finish your last “I love you”, the darkness consumed you for the last time.

It had been almost a year now, since your departure. Your team missed you. Your sad picture hung on the wall of fallen agents, and not a day went by where they didn't look at it and miss you. You missed them too. You wish you could've said goodbye. It hit Spencer the hardest, however. But healing takes time. Spencer missed you, of course, but he knew you wouldn't want him to sulk around. You'd want him to look for you. In reality, Spencer never really believed in the reincarnation theory. For some reason, you took his “If science can't prove it, it isn't real” mantra and threw it out the window but the slightest bit of Spencer knew you would come back for him, and you did.

You came in his dreams. Whenever Spencer really needed a pick-me-up or any form of encouragement, you would tell him the exact words he needed to hear.

He knew you were there through your smell. Throughout the day, Spencer would smell vanilla, your favorite scent. The warm tones of vanilla always seemed to calm him, as he was reminded of your beautiful face.

He knew you were there by the clock. Whenever he’d get a random urge to look at the time, or whenever he just simply needed it, you'd always be there. 11:11, 2:22, 3:33, 5:55. You were there with him.

Spencer was at comfort knowing this. Hopefully one day you'd come back to him through someone else, so he could finally say the things he needed to say. So he could finally say, that he’d been in love with you for so long.

#really feeling heartbroken today #sorry #fic #spencer reid #Spencer x gn!reader #Spencer x reader #mgg #mathew gray gubler #Criminal Minds #bau #sad reid #more trauma #sorry reid #also kinda cliche and doesn't make sense sorry #might delete this #idk lol

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akemiozawa · 4 years

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An Adventure Awakens (RP PT.2)

The pirate and hacker duo begin their epic quest. After discovering a mysterious object within the object, how will this kickstart their adventure?

Sol: @treasureoftheseas

Trina: me

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Trina jogs down the hall towards Hooksclave, her satchel bouncing against her hip sharply. Filled with all of her tools in hand: scan jammers, scanning glasses, etc, she didn’t pay attention to the short painful hits. Plus, some water, snacks, her headphones, portable charger for her phone, with said device in hand, and her wand, shoved into a small pocket art arched to the strap of the bag.

Soon, the front doors were in sight and Trina picked up her footing. She slammed the doors open, ignoring the weird looks the students were giving her, eyes darting to find their lead.

Soon, after running like a chicken without its head for ten minutes straight (she never had time to take a tour of the Dorm), she finds Sol in the Hooksclave library. The Pirate had multiple books and scrolls scattered on the table, some with the same weird language, others with maps and charts of ancient places.

Trina’s voice rings, “Hey, Sol! I’m here! Sorry ‘bout the wait. Couldn’t find my graphene knives for ten minutes!” She pushes out the lie like it was nothing but stale air. “But I’m here, though. So, what’s the plan?”

Sol looked over at her partially flushed-faced comrade. The former was aware that Trina always gets lost throughout Hooksclave like the impossible mazes over at Heartslabyul. But just to humor her, she takes the lie and doesn’t bring up the subject. Not until another time.

She nods. “Hey Trina. I’ve been looking over the ancient text and illustrations, and-” she waves her over to the table to see what her results were -so far-and catch her up on any missed info. “I found the general location of the empire that the language belongs to.” With one hand, she points at the wrinkled map lying on the table, to show the mass of land she centered on. Light markings of notes, written in ink, were smudged here and there, but Trina paid no mind.

“It’s in the deep sea near the country I found the sphere in.” Sol’s pointed finger slips towards the mass of ocean that was near a marked up and disfigured shape of land. “I feel like our best bet would be to go there. I mean, the engraving did say ‘To awaken the truth, one must persuade the sea’.” She recited.

Trina listens and after listening nods as assign that she understands. “Ah, going back to where it all begins. Bit clichè, if you ask me,” she throws in her two cents of sarcasm, but clasps her hands together, “But I’m ready! So, where’s the sphere? I wanna crack open that thing and see what’s up!”

At that claim, Sol nods and walks over to a nearby bookshelf. Tilting one of the books, so the upper left corner peeks out, the bookshelf triggers and sinks in, then slides to the right, revealing a secret spacious area, big enough to fit five whole bodies in.

Another one of Trina’s inventions. With some persuasion from Idia, and convincing towards the Headmaster, where it would take other Ignihyde people to finish things in about a week or so, Trina spent three days fixing a secret compartment for Sol where the Captain can keep some things hidden from the prying eyes and nosy minds of her dorm members.

A cobalt rectangular-shaped block. The door popped out a bit more, displaying the number pad and a fingerprint scan secured into the front. And right below it, a hexagonal shape etched into the bottom right hand corner with a cursive “H” painted in a bright Cardinal Red.

Slipping the white glove off her hand, Sol places the pad of her left thumb on the small scan screen. A green line moves up and down, then sends out a “beep” of approval after scanning. Turning to the keypad, she pushes in a four-digit code and after a second beep, the lock inside clicks, signaling that the safe is now unguarded.

She pulls open the door and sitting stoutly is the questionable object both girls had been left pondering about.

Turning back to Trina, who was texting someone on her phone, shuts it off at the sound of boots clicking against the floor toward the table space.

“Here it is, I wanted to make sure it was safe, so I hid it. You never know who’s watching after all.” She claims, her time a grateful one towards Tris. “Here you go.” Plunking it into Trina’s hands, Sol reminds her, “Just remember to not let it kill you.” A serious tone takes up her cords.

Trina doesn’t pay heed to the seriousness, having gotten used to it for so long, and winks in return. “Gotcha.” Spinning to the doorway, she takes her time getting to the workshop next door, which just so happens to be next to the area where the dorm ships are docked. After spotting another empty table, she placed the object in question on the table. Flinging her bag next, she zips it open, and starts digging for her tool. “ ‘Kay, beastie, what’cha got for me?” With a screwdriver in hand, and a smirk on her lips, Trina begins her work.

———Fifteen minutes later———

Grabbing a small towel, Trina dabs at the sweat beading on her forehead.

A quarter of an hour, from pulling out fried wires to unscrewing and rescreding pieces, hopefully would be worth for what Trina eventually unearthed within this contraption. Muttering, “Okay, I made a few dents in this thing. Wasn’t easy...but I think I found something Sol may be interested in.” Unfurling her fist, she brought out the mysterious object she had held in her lap for ten minutes.

The object in question was a cylinder-shaped tube no bigger than a can of soda, with two firm silver rods hitting out the top. However, inside, was a more bigger mystery: a red plastic cylinder as big as a thimble, fitted in a compartment, and coming out from the ends were two silvery wires, one had semi-thrashed wires, the other perfectly intact. Both ends of the wires were connected into a circuit board within the first cylinder, and etched into the side a weird symbol, probably originated from the same place as the language encrypted on the surface.

Sol, on the other hand, had just finished her final analysis and planning of the trip. She decides to go check on Trina and catch up on any progress she’s made. However, the hunched over figure wasn’t what caught her attention. Rather, it was the mysterious item clutched in Homura’s hands. Sol skips over to where Trina sits, looking over her shoulder, and widens her eyes in surprise at the much closer look. “Okay, now that is strange. What do you think it is?” She questions as she moved to Tris’ side.

“Looks like a cross between a diode and a capacitor. But that’s just my theory.” Tris shrugs nonchalantly, not bothered by the fact that Sol appeared out of thin air. Turning on her stool, Tris continues, “I managed to carve out a few more pieces and the exterior of the object for further examination.” She nods over to a pile of extra gizmos cut out from the machine.

Sol tried to follow through with what she was saying, but nods nonetheless. “Er, well in any case, at least you were able to get something out of it, and it didn’t explode.” Shifting her body to the doorway, she walks out. Tris scoops everything into her bag, caring less about the mess, and jogs after her to the docks.

They soon arrived. “I’ll start setting sail; since my sailboat doesn’t have any defenses, were going to have to take this ship.” Sol points to a boat big enough to fit several cruise passengers in. An eggshell white sail gently flutters in the breeze. Some small boxes were moved and tucked into each other to make room as Sol steps into the boat. She places her documents in her bag, which she plops directly by her feet for safekeeping. “Since we’ll be flying, we should get there in a few hours. I’ll be manning the helm. Let me know if anything new happens.” She directs while fussing with a couple of ropes.

Tris just looks at her like she was speaking Martian. “Uhm...sure.” She decides not to say anything else, and instead focused on the objects in her hands. Carefully placing them in airlock bags, she takes precision not to lose any pieces in the calm waters. Most people would definitely freak if they suddenly dropped anything in the ocean, and Trina is no stranger to that. But hey: one person’s loss is another person’s gain! And the more you gain, the more you’ll reach ultimate success. At least, that’s what her father claims....

“By the way, no one else is gonna know about this, right?” Random, but hey, she had to say something. After checking all her stuff was together, she, unexpectedly continues, “For several reasons, One: you know how fast word travels around these halls and Two: cuz, in some scenarios, if people know they’ll wanna tag along, which could end up with any of us in perilous danger, someone ends up betraying their team, the list goes on!”

...............

Okay, usually at this point, the sound of an audience laughing would pop up as if you were watching a sitcom. But...NOPE. ITS REAL LIFE, BYOTCH.

Tris, after getting ahold of herself, reflects back in what she said and lightly slaps her cheeks in a flurry. Like this:

“Damnit, I gotta stop watching those adventure movies!”

Sol was watching the display and chuckled at her witty antics. “You don’t have to worry about that. I told my dorm members that if they leave us alone and keep quiet about us using the ship, they could have a party after we get back.” She tugs at a mass of ropes for extra security. “ I also threatened that if they told anyone, I’d drop ‘em off at a deserted island. So long as we aren’t gone for too long, we should be fine.” She motions to get into the boat before hauling anchor.

Trina throws up a mock salute. “Whatever you say.” She tips carefully into the boat, throwing her bag gently aside. Just as she sits down, the anchor was fully hauled, the sail fluttered out, and the boat began its move out into the clear blue vastness.

‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this....’ Sol thinks as she handles the wheel with care. A pit of nervousness grows in her stomach the further they move out. If her calculations were correct, they should reach the island a little after noon. As long as they didn’t run into any obstacles

Meanwhile,

‘Might as well enjoy the ride while it lasts.’ Trina slips on her blue and black headphones, and scans through her playlist. ‘And...cue the Traveling Montage.’ After tapping the Play Button, Tris lets the music blare out the noises for the long haul ahead.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=pAgnJDJN4VA

youtube

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And so our duo begin their perilous journey into the unknown. What will await them? What secrets will they uncover? Will they stumble into something more dangerous than expected? Why am I asking you all these questions?!

....stay tuned!

#twisted wonderland oc #twst rp #twst oc #solena bucanero #trinity homura #night raven #rp tag

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chemically-imbalanced-romance · 6 years

Note

*slides in* analogical you say? How about Logan having a panic attack during a late night wiki dive and Virgil calming him down?

I guess this is a sequel to the fic I posted yesterday? Idk. Maybe I’ll turn this into an analogical touch starved au lmao

It wasn’t rare for Logan to spiral. His brain, he was convinced, was more intricate than even Roman’s. It’s ran in quite literally countless directions, idea bouncing off idea. His train of thought was made of endless tracks, and each question, idea, or theory branched off into five more.

He often found himself reading a few sentences before opening up a new tab for a new question, over and over again until his computer shut down and he was only left unsatisfied.

It wasn’t rare for Logan to spiral. It was rare for him to not be able to pull himself out of it.

Virgil and Logan were still dancing around each other- Even though they knew each other’s problems were one in the same, it was difficult for them to force much progress with it -so Virgil had shut himself in his room after dinner. Half of him hoped Logan would come after him, and the other half was angry at himself for not just asking.

He, as usual, was unable to sleep. He really was trying tonight, granted- He laid in bed with his laptop open next to him, playing Netflix, as he forced his eyes closed, only to lay there in impatience until he had to move again.

He thought to earlier, when he left his room to get a soda, to see Roman and Patton giggling as Roman carried the boy into his room, kicking the door shut behind them. And, damnit, it pissed him off. They didn’t have to be alone- Why did Virgil? Logan?

He let his frustration override his worries as he got up and threw his hoodie on, storming out into the hallway.

Logan was hunched over his laptop when Virgil knocked on the door, firm and loud.

It wasn’t enough to pull his eyes away from the screen. “Hm?”

Virgil cleared his throat. Shit. “Uh… Lo? Can I come in?”

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled.

He was so engrossed in the information in front of him, drowning in statistics and facts and debates, an ache sprouting deep in his head.

Virgil frowned as he saw him. Guess we won’t be hanging out after all.

“I, uh… Sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll leave.”

Virgil waited around for a response, his chest tightening. Did he really piss him off so bad he wouldn’t even answer?

Logan had barely heard him, and forgotten he’d spoken the moment he stopped- His eyes tore through the paragraphs and he rushed to open a new tab, slamming on the keys. And as he read the result, some information finally clicked together, and he really didn’t account for how exhausting that would be.

He slowly leaned back, dragging his fingers along the keys lightly and letting them fall at his sides.

“Logan?” Virgil asked nervously.

Logan swallowed, trying to think of something to say and then immediately giving up. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, burying his face in his knees.

He felt frozen. Not his body- His brain. All of his thoughts had stopped, and he had no energy to fill the space, no reason to send signals to move his limbs or answer Virgil. For all he cared, Virgil wasn’t even there.

Virgil recognized the catatonia as soon as it flashed across Logan’s face. Virgil had had one or two catatonic panic attacks himself, and they were by far his least favourite. The emptiness was not calm, and it certainly wasn’t welcome.

He carefully knelt in front of him, lightly resting his palms against Logan’s shins. “Lo,” he said, as gently as he could. “Give me your hands.”

Logan didn’t move for a moment- He really didn’t want to. He’d rather stay there forever, no matter how uncomfortable the wooden desk chair was, than use energy he simply didn’t have -before he dropped his grip and his arms fell at his sides, his legs and back slumping slightly.

Virgil took his hands firmly in one of his, and used his free arm to hook around his back. “C’mon, up,” he mumbled. The bed was inches away.

Logan let out a breath and sniffled, his eyes falling shut as he let Virgil lead him to the bed. Virgil was only gone for half a second before the lights were off, the door was closed, and Logan was in his arms.

“Breathe,” Virgil reminded every now and again, a soft whisper in the darkness, cradling him in strong arms.

Logan must’ve fallen asleep, because he woke up to a still very-dark room, but with just enough energy to force himself closer to Virgil, nuzzling into his neck.

Virgil kissed the top of his head. “Go to sleep,” he murmured.

He’d definitely have to talk with him about overworking himself tomorrow. He needed to know if this had happened before, and he needed Logan to know that it wasn’t okay. Forcing his brain to absorb idea after idea, with no food or sleep, and try to keep up with all of them wasn’t something Virgil would ever let him do again.

He ignored that for now, though. He knew there was likely a chance Logan was already beating himself up over it, and all Logan needed to do now was get some energy back. So he tabled the lecture, and held Logan instead.

#virgil writes

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demyrie · 6 years

Note

Something like toshis guard being worn down maybe they're just hanging out or drinking and aizawa is playing maybe like teasing him and then toshi responds like way too into it and aizawa is like ???woah ok uhh didn't really mean for that to happen uhhh now im turned on

UHHHH OKAY SO THIS IS LITERALLY THREE MONTHS LATE? And also it’s definitely not what you wanted, sweet anon, because I love and feel that trope, but this is more an exploration of a far less … competent and more awkward Aizawa. Also Yagi having the self-respect to realize when he’s being toyed with. So. (*whispers* i hate it)

Aizawa wasn’t a perfect person –farthest from it – but he never imagined his most pronounced sin ofthe year would be waiting and watching.

It began with All Might joining thefaculty, which was by far the worst event of the year, seconded onlyby the idiot being assigned to his year and his class. This wasn’this realm and Aizawa invested himself in letting the other hero knowit, maybe burning off the residual resentment he had incurred fromNezu grandly dismissing his concerns about All Might teaching at UA.From day one, he needled “All Might-sama” mercilessly aboutlesson plans and made it clear there would be no celebrity quartergiven as long as his class’s education was on the line. Refused allpersonal interaction. Turned away whenever he pulled his favoritetrick.

He was, in general, an impeccableasshole, the sting of rejection and criticism incarnate, and thus hadutterly no explanation for the predicament he woke to some monthslater, when Yagi stayed after class to tentatively ask him to(friendly coworker) dinner the third time in a week and couldn’t keephis gaze for a moment without turning bright red and Aizawa realized.

Maybe no one had ever been rough orhonest with him before, or held him to standards that weren’tmeasured in musculature. It seemed like just the kind of warpedcelebrity thing to get turned on about, but the teacher’s bittertheory had a hole in it: No matter how much Aizawa wished it, Yagiwasn’t All Might. He just wasn’t.

(Yagi was kind, tentative, bumbling butwell-meaning, and was honestly very much stressing Aizawa’s accomplished skill of hating anything that moved because he was sodamn agreeable and even if he was a wrecking ball, he was starting tomake progress with the kids, and …)

Aizawa, to his credit, wasn’t asadistic person, either. It took too much energy and gave him nothingto see people in pain. He wasn’t like Midnight, as evidenced by herdisapproval of him and how he was handling this very peculiarsituation, but he still found himself torturing Yagi just a bit. Just… a bit.

There was something addictive aboutteasing the towering man, and the sheer energy he gave off jumping atevery little touch. Part of the amusement was watching Yagi strugglewith himself because there was so very much to struggle with, as talland gawky as he was, and maybe part of Aizawa figured he was overduefor some awkwardness after living so long, unquestioned, as theSymbol of Peace. The game kept him interested both in How and When:even as he wondered how such a man could possibly have chosen him tolike, and how far could Yagi Toshinori contort himself inpleasantries and avoidance before he said something honest, ordemanded an explanation?

The answer: no idea, and exactly threebeers and one poorly timed attempt at groping.

Hizashi and Nemuri (read: Nemuri) hadexcommunicated him until he resolved the “All Might issue” and itonly took one half-offer before Yagi agreed to a dinner. A dinnerbetween coworkers. It was a local ramen place near to his apartmentwith decent food at a great price, and a traditional but lacklusterambiance much improved by a retired hero on his absolute bestbehavior and refraining from try-hard jokes and forceful merriment.

It wasn’t often Aizawa felt safe enoughto get solidly drunk anywhere but with his friends, but there he was.Then, there Yagi was, and he started messing. Leaning over too closeto get the sake bottle, putting his hand on the man’s mile-long leg.Brushing his hair from his face and laughing low and satisfied. Tooclose, way too close.

For however close he was, drunk on alittle more than beer – maybe power, maybe the simple andabsolutely foreign pleasure of being admired – he failed to noticeas Yagi’s face dropped and his reactions became more and morestilted, stricken, unsure. As he caught on, poke by prod.

Everyone always told him he was anasshole when he was drunk. Now, he saw why, and it was revealed tohim in vivid technicolor when he pretended to lose his balance on theway out of the bar and fell into the towering hero, hand gropingaround his waist. He even aimed his mouth oh-so-purposefully for theskin of the older man’s neck, only for his wrists to be yankedtogether and his head bounced against the wall, the impact knockingthe breath out of him.

Above him, Yagi was little more than asilhouette of wiry hair and burning blue eyes in the cheap yellowlighting.

“Don’t.”

Yagi was so tall, so thin, so yielding,and that was the problem: Aizawa had nearly forgotten that the Symbolof Peace was under there. The fire in his eyes still smoldered, andnow those eyes pinned him to the wall. The heat alone was enough toburn off most of his high.

“What are you doing?” Yagi gritout, voice like a body drug over gravel.

“I was waiting,” Aizawa forced out,panicking and drunk as shit and knowing he was choosing the wrongwords even as he said them. “Waiting to see –”

“But you weren’t waiting, tonight.Did you get bored? To turn to humiliation so quickly when someone isunder your power is a staggering character flaw, Aizawa,” he saidin low, dangerous tones, his height all the more intimidating toknow how low he was bending just to speak to him, to crowd Aizawa’s spaceand block the light. “I thought Midnight was the sadist among youthree.”

Humiliation? The word didn’t make senseand Aizawa opened his mouth, but all that came out was a huff of airas the steely grip on his wrists dissolved and Yagi pushed himgently, tiredly against the wall and turned away. Toward the door.

“I wasn’t going to say anythingbecause I didn’t think it was possible for you to feel the same way.So I don’t blame you for your feelings, but I would have appreciateda simple no.”

“Damnit, Yagi,” he forced out.“Don’t.”

It was a fragment, a stupid inverse parroting of what Yagi said before, but of course theolder man understood. His powers of understanding were only rivaledby his patience, it seemed, which only made Aizawa feel worse as Yagistared him down, emanating disappointment.

“It would be best if I went. Ifyou’re really that inebriated, I can call you a taxi,” he saidbitterly. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head slightly. “We’ll continue this conversation when you’re sober … Ifyou’re even inclined.”

“I’m shit at this.”

Yagi stopped, then turned to look athim. Head lifting off his shoulders in a combination of fear andalcohol, Aizawa was distantly aware he was locking his knees and hecouldn’t stop.

“At this. All of it. I don’t know howto read people or what they want. All I want to do is get straight tothe point, and you kept skirting. So.”

“So?”

“This place is near my apartment,”he blurted out.

So I didn’t know what else to do,he wanted to say, now caught in the disastrous fallout of hisinability to speak human or navigate social mores. This was All Mightthey were talking about, after all. He wasn’t really that drunk, andhad never been, but it was a fantastic excuse to reach for what hewanted. Might want, or dare to want. Aizawa should have realized howuncharacteristically loose and stupid he was being, acting out insome vague ploy to get a stranger’s attention, but what was there todo?

It clearly took Yagi a minute toprocess everything, and even then his baffled expression only becamemore concerned.

“So, after giving me absolutely noindication that you even respect me as a coworker, you suddenlyinvite me to a restaurant … near your apartment and … then gropeme in the hallway …” he began uncertainly, enormous hand out likehe expected Aizawa to give him the key to whatever insane train hadferried him to this particular plan.

“It would have been easier if youactually drank,” Aizawa admitted at length, mulish. The mathsounded better in his head: drunk person A giving drunk person B whatthey want, which is also what A wanted, waking up the morning afterand thus skipping the step where they had to talk about wantingthings.

He pinched his nose. Okay, maybe alittle villainous. Or just shitty on a person level.

“If I’d been drunk, it would havebeen coercion,” the older hero countered, now actively chuckling instunned disbelief. He shook his head, regarding him with some kind ofamazement. “You are bad at this.”

“Not very heroic,” he said, lookinghim in the eye. Daring Yagi to see the kind of person he was and makehis exit accordingly.

“Not very functional,” Yagiresponded dryly, making Aizawa drop his gaze by the sheerrelentlessness of his strange blue-black attention. Brave, like hewasn’t, but also not judgmental.

A paragon of righteousness andcommunity values, just like the posters portrayed, and altogether toogood for him. The realization – juxtaposition – nauseated him alittle. Just what was he trying to pull, here? Aizawa shruggedsharply, the last of his stupid ideas caving and leaving him withnothing more than an exit to make.

“You’re the first person I’ve triedto seduce, if it’s any consolation, and I won’t be trying again,”he said, gruff. He straightened his shirt and gestured to the handblocking him from the rest of the restaurant. Yagi hurriedly withdrewit, straightening to a facsimile of his timid self, but Aizawacouldn’t find it in himself to move just yet.

He breathed out quietly, burnt andstunned by his own combined stupidity and gall.

“You can leave, now. If you want.I’ll get the tab.”

“I’d actually like to leave withyou,” he said mildly, ducking his head a bit and looking to theside when Aizawa’s head snapped up in disbelief. “If you’re stillinterested in my, er, company, that is.”

His pale brows drifted up and theappraising look dampened the instant throb of Aizawa’s stupid heart,but not for long.

“But you do get to pay the tab thistime. I think I’ve earned it.” Yagi grinned, sudden and shining inhis gaunt face. “I think this is the first time I’ve been seduced,but I … don’t know if I would recommend it to anyone else.”

Breaking out of him like he’d beenwhacked in the gut, Aizawa chuckled, stupid and low. If people werepaid to put up with him, as he believed they should be on some level,Mic and Midnight wouldn’t be poring over cheap scratchers every otherweek. Then again, he was pretty certain they just did that for thescummy thrill of it.

“Meet you outside,” Aizawa saidwith a nod, hardly believing he could still say it.

The cautious, sideways smile on Yagi’sface as he turned to go chilled him and warmed him in the samebreath, leaving him rubbing at his arms and the prickled skin there.Was he even drunk anymore? Was he ever drunk in the first place?

More importantly, what the hell didYagi even see in him? It was the question of the year and one thatwasn’t easily answered, but walking down the sidewalk with thecautious space between them shrinking step by step, slowly makingconversation, felt like a start.

#erasermight #Anonymous #bnha #sorry anon i do love that trope and this is not it #this went off the rails #character study of yagi getting angry #and zawa being a fuck up #i guess

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dangantruth-a-blog · 6 years

Text

;;

I know its a bit silly but.. I wrote something about the class of 85.

Under read more.

Aida couldn’t remember how she even got here in the first place. Her face hurt, and her glasses were off-- And that was just a bit stupid. The red head moved to ruffle her hair back before she moved to place on her classes. Oh, nice, keyboard dents on her face. That was lovely. She moved to glance around-- Was this really Hopes Peak Academy? People wanted nothing more then to attend this prestigious school so they can have the best sort of future. After all, she was scouted for even breaking past their firewall, and finding some interesting information. Scholarship paid, dorm paid, food paid-- It was supposed to be a easy school year to hone her talents.

Oh, we should probably introduce her, huh?

Aida Robins is the Ultimate Hacker-- She’s able to find any sort of information and break into it. Her family was always surrounded by technology, her mother working for IT, as the same went for her father. She practically grew up on the internet, leaving herself to a more secluded lifestyle-- And Hopes Peak was to change that. She was going to be more social, and have more friends, and more times to just.. Be herself.

Although, waking up in a dorm with computers surrounding her wasn’t the ideal situation. Throwing on her jacket and slightly zipping it up, she left to search for anyone else. . . Though the school seemed very empty as it was. Where was everyone?

“Hello?”

Aida had asked, mostly to.. No one. She wasn't expecting anyone to be here in the first place-- Wait, did she miss class? … Couldn’t she just hack her grades to be higher? Aida had sighed, before moving to continue to look around, hands in pockets, observing the area around her.

It looked like a normal school-- A cafetira, and it seemed like a few people were there by the sounds of it. She walked inside to then hug the wall slightly, keeping her observance.

A girl with pink hair was waving a spoon at a large fellow with glasses and.. Seemingly having a hat with a very, very cute ghost embroidered on it. The pink haired chef meanwhile seemed frustrated--

“You! You can’t eat the food I’m trying to prep for everyone! Honestly, what would the chef think if he caught you!?” Her shrill voice was clearly scolding, but her playful violet eyes was twinkling in amusement-- Oh, this would be funny, right? What a laugh. She then glanced over to notice Aida-- As Aida squawked slightly, wanting to hide.

“You there!”

“Me?”

“Did you eat yet?”

“Uh-- yes?”

Her stomach growl betrayed her. Damnit. Being heard, the girl rushed over, grasped her hand, and promptly sat her down across from the man, as she grumbled, returning to the kitchen. The guy laughed, moving to tilt his head as he remarked. “Seems like you’re already making trouble with Hinata.”

“Hinata..?” Aida asked, glancing towards the kitchen. “Is she the Ultimate Chef?”

“Her? Nah, shes like, the Ultimate Sous Chef or something--” The man remarked, tapping his cheek. “She and I go way back though-- I’m Yasuro Kurokawa, Shes Hinata Kumiko. I’m the Ultimate Paranomal Investigator, and shes a Ultimate Sous chef.”

Aida laughed-- seemingly grinning “Hey, thats a nice mix of talents, huh?” As Yasuro shrugged, remarking “It is when you can see ghosts--”

And Aida just stared at him, flatly, before remarking “Ghost aren’t real though.”

Yasuro scoffed, slamming his hand on the table as he remarked “I see ghost everywhere! Don’t mock the dead like this, chi-- Say, whats your name?”

Aida quickly introduced herself.

“Aida Robins-- Huh, weird name. Regardless! The dead and ghosts are everywhere, ‘ya hear?! And I’m here to solve how they died so they go to rest, and leave mortals like us alone.” Yasuro leaned back, giving a proud look, as Aida paused, before remarking “So, like.. A detective thats solving the murders.. By talking to ghosts!” She snickered, her tone a bit sarcastic.

“Yeah!” Yasuro smiled, giving a firm nod, before pausing, remarking. “...I’m not liking ‘yer tone at all, Aida.”

Aida gave a laugh, before musing as Hinata walked out, offering food-- It seemingly looked like okay meal of Hawainn chicken sandwiches, so, while they ate, Hinata and Yasuro were talking about the situation they were in, as Aida listened in.

It seemed they were trapped-- But thats strange. Not to mention they were only allowed to the first floor of the Academy, which were the dorms, and outside of it-- No students were around, nor teachers or anything like that. Aida thanked Hinata for the meal, and quickly stood up, deciding to leave and continue her search outside-- What made them so trapped, huh?

Once she left through those doors, that’s when it hit her, so to say.

The scenes around the school was gone, and a blue sky only met them. Were they.. Floating? In the air none the less, and-- It seemed by the shine from the sun itself, they were trapped in a dome like area. No escape. Even if they did, how could they? One jump, they’d just die, wouldn’t they?

“Hey, calm down!”

A voice broke Aida from her thoughts, as she glanced over-- A girl in pink pigtails, and quite a glare on her appeared to catch her from falling--Ah, she was falling? Wonderful-- As she gave a loud sigh.

“Honestly, if you’re gonna faint, do it elsewhere.”

“Huh?”

“I mean.. Cement hurts.” The girl pointed out. The others near her seemed worried, as the woman introduced herself.

“Koroko Shun, the Ultimate Seamstress-- The guy over there.” She motioned over to a tall boy with dark hair, and baby blue eyes. “Guipeng Xiao Shin. He has a bit of Amnesia..”

“Amnesia?” Aida asked, as Guipeng shrugged, and smiled, remarking earnestly-- “I can’t remember a damn thing! About my talent that is.” Guipeng scratched his chin, as he remarked “All I know is, Hopes Peak wanted me to attend for some reason, and I left my ‘ma and dad to attend.” After Aida introduced herself to everyone, Koroko remarked. “The dome surrounds the wall of the land-- It’s like a complete circle. Theres tiny holes in it though, so.. We still have airflow though, but..”

“No escape.” Aida remarked, looking pale as Koroko huffed “Hey, breathe. Seven seconds in, eight seconds out, okay?”

Aida breathed in, and out with ease, before looking aside. What the hell could this mean? Koroko glanced to Guipeng as she remarked.

“Anyway, Amnesiac, if you can like gather everyone to the dining hall, we should try and get everyone introduced.”

Guipeng nodded, before scratching his chin, his gaze moving aside as he remarked “With Aida waking up, we have about.. Sixteen students in whole.” He frowned, his brow even furrowed a bit as Koroko arched a brow, as she barked out “Does that really matter now!? Get a move on!” and Guipeng flinched and rushed out, as Koroko moved to keep Aida supported, remarking “Most of them left outside to see if theres anywhere else we can head in and out from.” Koroko was taking her back to the kitchen, as the Seamstress remarks sadly-- “But we’re floating in air. Like, we’re flying! How weird is that, right?”

Aida grew pale, as Koroko continued.

“But, we’ll gather everyone and talk about what we can do from here, okay?” Koroko rubbed her back as she sat down, Aida giving a worried look. This.. This felt bad for some reason. Why did it feel so bad..?

Once everyone entered and sat down, and Hinata too, it was down the line from there for introductions. Aida tried to listen in, even if the situation they were in was stuck on her mind.

A sniper spoke up first-- And she was dressed weird. Just a bikini? Had she no shame? She gave a smile as she crossed her arms, remarking with a wink. “Names Fumiko Hana, Ultimate Sniper. My shot never misses, okay?” She then eyed Yasuro, who really was eyeing her, as she then gave a remark. “And let me remind you, no matter how small your object is, I can shoot it down. Understand?”

Yasuro gulped, and gave a nod. Welp.

“But.. Why the Bikini, Fumiko?” Aida had to ask. “Isn’t it.. Kind of a bad thing?”

“Not really.. I am more dressed when on duty, I just like the thought of being able to wear one whenever I want.” Fumiko remarked, giving a grin. “I mean, guys run around shirtless all the time, why can’t I wear a bikini when I’m dressing casual, huh? Sides, i’m wearing pants.”

Uh huh. Aida thought, and decided to continue down the line.

A girl with blue hair, bags under her eyes, and a glare that went on for miles decided to speak up, remarking firmly.

“Taro Ryou-- Ultimate Weather Forecaster.”

Yasuro looked delighted at this, remarking with ease “So, are your predictions correct all the time!?” He bounced, clapping his hands a bit as Taro offered him quite a dark, horrid deathglare, remarking firmly.

“They’ll always be right, no matter the circumstances. But who asked you to talk, pig?”

“P-pig?!” Yasuro squealed, as Aida remarked, huffing--

“H-hey, thats a bit much, isn’t it?”

“Shut up, neet.” Taro snarled out her response, as Aida just huffed and rolled her eyes-- Man, she was a bitch.. Regardless, there was still more people to meet, wounded pride and Yasuro’s blush aside.

Someone who looked just as tired as Aida felt raised his hand-- Dark red hair, red stubble, and a smile for miles-

“Yo, Haru Noburu, the Ultimate--”

But before he could finish, Aida declared

“No way-- The Ultimate Lets player?! Your channel is the Noburuists! You write theories and do lets plays!” Aida declared, giving a happy look as Haru laughed, and rubbed the back of his head, glancing aside.

“Ahaha, yeah-- I do that. That’s my talent. I like entertaining my audience, so to say--”

Haru looked a bit awkward as Aida wanted to continue questioning, but Yasuro gently dragged her away to continue socializing.

A more timid boy glanced aside, blushing-- Soft blonde hair, dark amber eyes, Aida remarked that this boy was really, really cute to herself, as she heard his introduction.

“Yuudai Shin-Shinobu.. I go by Yuudai first since.. Someone else here is named Shinobu..” He stuttered out, playing with his hat a bit, as Yasuro remarked “This guy here is a Ultimate Gunsmith. He can smith any sort of guns! He actually makes quite a business with others for it, gun laws or not.”

“Ah, he’s into crime?” Aida motioned over to Yuudai, as Yuudai remarked--

“I-I am not! Military deals aren’t war crimes! ..I just make sure the soldiers get the best weapons.. Fumiko even uses one of my brand of weapons.” He glanced aside, before saying “S-so, don’t spread rumors about me being involved with the Yakuza! Do I look like a crazed man with a eyepatch!?”

That.. was a bit specific, Yuudai. Aida thought to herself, before leading herself down to continue to introduce herself to everyone.

A girl with fluffy pink hair and a gentle smile waved at Aida and Yasuro, motioning them over. Although she was taking pictures of the view outside, she did seem to want to talk to them. Yasuro remarked “Thats Yue Momoko-- She’s the Ultimate Scenic Photographer. She never takes photos of people for some reason..”

“Huh? Whys that?” Aida wondered to herself, scratching her chin. It was a bit weird, in all honesty, but Yue spoke after she took the picture.

“Because natures beautiful without us in the picture.” Yue then gave a chuckle, remarking. “Sorry.. That sounded a bit dark. I just like natural shots, and ..well, just nature in itself. People are people, but nature is.. Well, nature. Beautiful, untamed, and wonderful.” Yue gave a laugh, stroking her hair back as she mused. “I’m glad to meet you two.”

Aida grimaced-- Ah, a nature freak, huh? Thats … uh.. Nice..?

Regardless they moved on to continue introducing themselves.

A very authentic shrine maiden was praying to herself, although her hair was cut short, and her outfit did seem a bit too formal. Aida tried to get her attention, but Yasuro moved to stop her, whispering-- “Rina Haru-- You don’t bother her while praying. She may not be able to see you-- But she can, and will kick your butt all the way to the spirit realm if you bother her.”

“Ah-- Wait-- she’s blind!?” Aida whispered back, a bit bothered, as Yasuro nodded, remarking in his own hushed whisper. “She was orphaned, and found blind. She takes care of duties as a shrine maiden alongside the women that raised her-- Her religion, is her duty. Nothing else should interfere. Shes a stickler for this.”

“..I may be blind, but I am not deaf.”

Dull green eyes met Aida’s, as Rina gave a smile, reaching her hand out as Aida grasped it. Rina shook Aida’s hand.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you-- I have heard a lot from the others you were introduced too. I pray you come to talk to me more.”

Aida gave a grimace, before smiling a bit. “Suuuuure.” Before moving her hand out and away towards the next person-- who looked oddly like a very… very pretty girl.

Yasuro was hooked already, seemingly grasping her hand as he remarked-- “Ah, it’s a pleasue to meet you! Say, do you have a cellphone, my number is--”

“Oh my--!” The girl literally shoved Yasuro aside to rush up to Aida, hugging her tightly as she mused “Look at you! You’re so cute and tiny, I could LITERALLY just eat you the hell up-- You know, if I was into cannibalism.”

“Ah--”

Aida gave a squawk, pulling herself away-- Yumiko smiled, as she winked, introducing herself. In her soft, yet feminine tone, she remarked earnestly--

“I’m the Ultimate Drag queen.”

“S-Say what!?” Yasuro, who just got up, fell back down. Quite a manly chortle escaped the girl, as he remarked.

“My names Ken Rokuro-- Yumiko Misaki is just my stage name.” He grins, crossing his arms as he mused. “I had you fooled for a minute, my dude. You gotta have a better eye for that sort of thing-- But yeah! I’ve done shows, cosplays, anything girly, I wanted my hands on.”

Aida was amused, and a bit intrigued by this-- “So, what began your love for it?”

“My girlfriend decided to dress me up.” Yasuros jaw dropped, as he gave a defeated sort of sigh. Ken laughed, as he mused. “Mhm, she was fascinated by a girly sort of anime-- A magical girl one, and thought I looked like one of the girls on there. Crossplay is common in cosplay, so, I dressed up and we took pictures to post on the internet-- Wild story. But, eh-- Enough about me. You, cutie pie, got lots more to see.”

Ken nudged Aida and a heartbroken Yasuro away, as Aida mused “I like him.”

“I..I bet you do Aida.” Yasuros brow furrowed, a disheveled whine coming from him. Meanwhile, observant eyes watched them, as the man before them gave a smile, remarking.

“Hello-- You, stand up straight!” He barked, as Yasuro and Aida stood firm. Tomomi smiled, clasping his hands as he remarked “I’m Tomomi Kenji, the Ultimate Drill Sergeant.”

Aida scratched her chin, remarking with ease “So you deal with.. Army stuff.”

“I mostly train civilians to be able to handle the strife and negitivity of army life, yes.” Tomomi reported, before musing. “Although, I have seen war myself a few times..”

“Y-You have!?” Aida looked surprised-- he did seem a bit scrany from the war types. Tomomi pointed to a obvious scar on his face, remarking.

“This was given to me in the heat of battle. Leading my men was hard, and this hurt.. But I held hope for a happier ending. And I got one, I was able to attend this academy!”

Aida smiled-- That was amazing, truly …! He seemed quite brave after everything.

“Regardless.. I hope our endevors together can solve such a .. circumstance were in.” Tomomi sighed, before musing. “Run along you two! You have plenty more to meet , right!?”

Aida nodded, saying “Thanks Tomomi~san.. I’ll see you around.”

And they left to be introduced to the others.

Yasuro squealed first-- “Holy shit, thats-- Thats the idol of that group, Hurricane!”

Aida glanced over to Yasuro, remarking “You listen to male idol pop groups?”

Yasuro huffed, placing a hand on his hip. “I can, and do. They attract ghosts really well, and I can jam out to whatever I please, shortie.”

...Shortie? Aida glared, as Minato remarked.

“I see one of you hears my music.” He gave a laugh, moving his green hair aside, as his playful gaze looks over the two. “Although, he is right-- I’m the head idol in the group Hurricane. We’ve been rising to the top and rivaling other girl bands that are heard of..”

“Most of Minato Kyouis money heads to charity.” Yasuro squealed out, seemingly squirming in delight. Minato nodded, musing.

“I am already living a life I’ve always wanted-- Why would I ever need so much money to boot?”

Aida smiled, musing “You’re a good guy Minato. Maybe i’ll actually buy your music instead of pirate it.”

Minato huffed, rolling his eyes “The industry does bite peoples ass for it-- I say if you like music, do what you want with it. Pirate, buy, even have a poster of my group for it.”

Yasuro glanced aside, slightly sweating at that. Aida gave a giggle, musing, as the girl walked up-- Glaring slightly.

“..As much as I hate my talent, I gotta say, Yasuro has a crush on you.” The girl reported, as Minato laughed, musing “Does he now?”

“I-IDONOTSHUTUPSHINOBU--”

“Shinobu?” Aida asked, as the girl gave a laugh and sneered “Heh! Ultimate Matchmaker.” She rolled her eyes. “For the idiots that believe in that happily ever after bullshit.. Thats my job, telling them their prince, or princess, or some horseshit. Ugh..” Shinobu rolled her eyes and left the conversation, as Minato remarked “You must forgive her- Shes not quite.. Proud of her talent. She has set up my band members before with their wives, or husband.” He chuckled, before glancing at Yasuro, teasing “I suppose you’ll say no to a wedding?”

“A-a-a-a-a-a-a...A wedding?” Yasuro’s eyes brighten, as Aida grasps him by the ear, looking to their last student.

Blonde hair, soft eyes, and seemingly a soft attitude. He was looking suspiciously at others, possibly assuming on who, or what they are, but when his eyes went to Aida’s, he relaxed as she dragged Yasuro over. He introduced, with a slight twang.

“ ‘My names Ashton Wilkes. Most folks call me Ash though.” Ash offered a smile, as Aida asked “Do you.. Have a talent, Ash?”

Ash frowns, before musing. “It ain’t impressive.. But Ultimate Ambassador. I’m originally from the Americas you see, down south. I just had to do my own thing to learn multiple languages and travel. Nothin’ too fancy like hacking and.. Ghost hunting?” He snickered as Yasuro huffed, almost getting into his rant before Aida covered his mouth.

“Regardless, I’m a bit worried-- Lotta folks here are a bit calm, too calm about this circumstance were in.”

Yeah, Aida nodded, it seemed like it was a bit too much for her to handle.. She nearly fainted. Ashton gently places a hand on her shoulder, remarking.

“Keep a careful watch, ‘kay, Aida?”

But before she could remark, something appeared on weird, tv like monitors--

“Puhuhu~! Greetings, ‘ya ingrates! If you’re hearing the delightful sounds of my voice, it’s high time we get a move on to the main event, right?”

Everyone was beginning to question, hushed murmurs fell before the crowds as the voice continued, earnestly.

“Meet me at the Gym for the main event, bahahah!~”

And the monitor went off, keeping everyone confused as they rushed towards the gym-- But Aida , walking slowly, and by herself had to wonder.

What use would someone have with 16 students in this game be..?

#v; CLASS OF 85 [OcKillingGame]#;; Moos mooing at the crowd [Ooc]

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zyzzyva1936-blog-blog · 6 years

Text

“Lemma the Librarian - Sucker for a Good Book”

Published: January 30, 2016

http://www.mcstories.com/LemmaTheLibrarian/index.html

For a story in which the bad guy kills like fifty people (off-camera), this one is a lot more fun than its nobody-dies predecessor.

It helps that it opens with a wonderful comic setpiece, Lemma attempting to play damsel-in-distress/bait, very, very badly, followed by some nice Lemma/Iason banter. They’ve actually reached the point where they seem like a pair of (rather snarky) friends. The return of Brea (moderate squee) also helps with this: it’s a callback to where they’ve been already, of course, but also reminds us that Lemma is capable of making friends, and has been doing so rather better since the story started. Another step on her character arc.

The last two thirds of it is a straight-up dungeon crawl, always a fun fantasy trope (and one Lemma doesn’t do elsewhere). The “you can’t resist mind control” curse starts to pull its weight here, since Lemma really, really doesn’t want to be eaten by vampires*, but she loses fast anyways. Brea shows up, Lemma mind-controls her - first time for everything - and then we have a climactic fight where Iason, Brea, and Lemma all play a part in saving the day**.

Then Iason gets to explain to Lemma, for once, which is as funny as it is infuriating to Lemma, Brea takes the whole being enslaved thing surprisingly in stride once it wears off, and Lemma realizes that Brea touched the super-powerful doombook without harm***. Lemma’s theory is that Brea is an avatar of the war goddess(es), come to help them undefile her/their temple, which is great, but I like Brea’s character enough on its own terms that my theory is a little more hands-off: Brea’s Brea, just (possibly even unbeknownst to her) getting a blessing from the war goddess(es) to help her be the hero she wants to be (and undefile the temple). It’s a pretty great ending****.

*Unlike the other mc bits, where Lemma merely partially doesn’t want to be controlled. More on this, later, too.

**Given that only Iason isn’t under mind-control by the villain, that must have been a bitch to plot. It works well.

***Also threw Iason’s sword without trouble, although this is less impressive than it sounds. As in D&D, magic here apparently doesn’t leave much time for pushups: real iron swords weigh substantially less than any one of the books that Lemma’s toting around, assuming the books are parchment rather than paper. You gotta be able to swing that sucker fast, after all.

****Spoilers: yes, I know. *grinds teeth unhappily* We’ll get to... that... when we get to it, OK?

When The Fuck Are We? 🤷

We’re in the capital of Mercia, which means, I guess... (*googles around*) Tamworth, Staffordshire? Sure*.

This is the first story to really directly touch on religion: the Tin Islanders (and Sea Peoples, and Lemurians) are polytheistic, which is not really a stretch when you have documented cases of gods walking the earth. The Tin Islanders have a Triple Goddess of War, which of course suggests the Morrigan, the Irish Triple Goddess of War/heavily war-inflected Three Fates figure.

Ireland was both the longest surviving Celtic-cultured region in Britain, and the one where the pre-Christian mythology was recorded most thoroughly, so most of our knowledge of British Celtic mythology is really Irish Celtic mythology. This isn’t a huge problem - if the Irish had a Morrigan figure, then it’s not a huge stretch to imagine that the Great British Celts did too. The problem is that we’re in Mercia, ie the Anglo-Saxon half of the island, and the Anglo-Saxons had their own mythology, which was completely different***. Also, just to kick the timeline while its down, the Briton half of the island - Kyrno and Breizh, in particular - should still be Christian in 650 CE, and within a generation so will most of the Anglo-Saxon half, including Mercia.

No Fantasy Christianity is, of course, a pretty common thing, and for perfectly valid reasons (it makes it hard to have morally-neutral magic, for starters, and that’s not even getting to the list of cultural issues as long as my arm that it imports****). But it makes the Seven Kingdoms/Heptarchy equivalence a bit hard to hold on to. Mercia, until the second half of the 7th C CE, was practically defined by being the last and by far strongest pagan state on a Christianizing island; and after that was occupied with the vicious squabbling with the Church that was the birthright of every Christian state down to at least 1648.

Religion in the Dark Ages was serious business, is my point. The Tin Islanders seem to have a vastly more laid-back approach to religion (we’ll be seeing a great example of that next time), which fits the more syncretic approach of classical and pre-classical Europe. Plus, of course, before the Romans and Anglo-Saxons came, Britain was uniformly Celtic and presumably uniformly Celtic-religioned. So from the religious point of view, at least, 1200 BCE seems like it might be a more plausible date for the Tin Islands.

*Dark Ages polities tended not to have “capitals”, in favour of itinerant courts, since the infrastructure to maintain central control over large areas didn’t exist anymore, and perpetual travel was the only way to keep a handle on all the outlying parts. (Or really, every part was outlying.) Tamworth is just one of the more important Mercian royal residences, probably near the original 6th C core of proto-Mercia. They did have capitals in the relatively centralized late Bronze Age, though, so I’ll take advantage of the bouncing back-and-forth timeframe again to give it an ok**.

**Relatively centralized in the Eastern Med, not distant Britain. Damnit, I’m trying as hard as I can, OK? :P

***We don’t know a huge amount about Anglo-Saxon religion, actually, for the same reason we don’t know a lot about the religion of Celtic Great Britain (to wit: the Dark Ages lost a lot of recorded knowledge, and the fine details of pagan religion was one of the things Dark Age Christians were mostly not interested in preserving). But we do know enough that “eh, Viking stuff with Odin and Thor and whatnot” covers it to a reasonable first approximation, at least as well as “eh, Irish stuff with fairies and the Morrigan and whatnot” does for the pre-Christian Celts.

****For instance: the use of the word “soul” in this series also seems very un- or at least a-Christian. It seems to be more of a synonym for “will and personality” than “immortal essence of the person themself”. There’s never even any particular reference to an afterlife, that I can recall. Lemma and Iason are horrified about their vampiric bodies wandering around being evil without “them”, but possibly not as much about the soul being destroyed. My feeling is that in Lemma’s cosmology, after death the soul slowly unstitches itself and returns to the totality of the universe or some such new-agey thing; having one’s soul destroyed is very, very bad but not anything like what that would entail in a Christian cosmology.

~ Next time: The most sympathetic Lovecraftian cultist I have ever met. No, wait, there’s “The Litany of Earth”. Go read that while you’re waiting for the next review. You won’t regret it.

#Lemma Reviews

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not-close-to-straight · 7 years

Text

5x Bruce Told Tony to Shut Up and 1x He Didn't

“Say Bruce.”

“What is it Tony?” Bruce didn't even look up from his desk, staring at the lay out for the weapons systems for the new QuinnJet. The Team had requested some pretty intense upgrades and he was struggling with the final plans. He just didn't know how it would be possible to fit all of the tech on board without compromising--

“Say, Bruce.” Tony repeated louder. “Bruce!”

“Yes.” Bruce sighed and sat back, rubbing his eyes. “Yes, Tony what is it?”

“So does, you know, being big and green make it difficult to date? Or do ladies really go for that?”

“Tony.”

“No I'm really asking here. You know, for science.” Tony's eyes were sparking playfully even as he tried to keep a straight face. “Do you start the date all Hulked out, or pull out the big guns after she's back at your place?”

“Tony. I live here. The Tower is ‘my place’. And I'm sure everyone can vouch for me when I say I've never brought a woman back here.”

“Well, we have a Hulk-safe containment room. Nobody REALLY knows what you do in there.”

“That's enough.” Bruce turned away to go back to working, and Tony frowned at his back.

“For a scientist, you sure aren't open to discussing theories.

“ENOUGH Tony.”

Tony shut his mouth.

***********************

“So have you figured out how to get the bigger guns on without causing a balance and weight issue?” Tony was bouncing a rubber ball off the wall of the lab.

Bruce shook his head. “No.”

“Have you fixed the loading ramp problem?”

“No.”

“Have you decided to quit being a baby and just ask me for help?”

“No, Tony.”

“Are you into women?”

“No Tony.” Bruce relied automatically, then froze. “Um--”

The ball rolled away, forgotten, and Tony couldn’t seem to pick his jaw up off the floor. “Uh, Bruce I didn't-- Are you- can we--”

“No. Tony. No.”

“You don't even know what I was going to ask!”

“Just… no. Be quiet so I can think.”

Tony made a zipping motion across his lips.

**********************

“Is it Steve? Is he your type? Because I have to say, I thought you and Spider Girl had something for a while.”

“Don't call her that.” Bruce set aside one set of plans with a satisfied smile. Balance issue solved. Loading ramp fixed. Pulling a different chart in front of him, he started working on the weapons issue.

“Ok, so you’re sensitive about Natasha but not in a way where you want to get in her pants. Was that a yes or no on Steve?”

“Captain Rogers is very nice.”

“But not your type. Okay.” Tony cocked his head and studied the scientist. “Is it Hawk? I like the way he looks in those pants too but-”

“Are we really doing this, Tony? I'm actually trying to work here.”

“So no then. Not Hawkeye. Which is too bad. I feel like he could give you a sense of humour.”

“Thanks for that.” Bruce pushed his glass up on his forehead. “Now let me concentrate.”

“Wilson? A little jungle fever?”

“That's really offensive, Tony.”

“Ok. No you’re right. That was in bad taste. I'm sorry. SORRY!” Tony yelled louder, in case anyone else was listening. “I just feel like I got to know man. It's making me crazy.”

“It's not your business.”

“Technically I could argue that since I own the building you work in, everything that happens here is my business.”

“Nothing has happened here.” Bruce said calmly. “At least not yet.”

“Wait what? Has something- who- where…? Where do you go for this? Are you PLANNING on something happening here?” Tony actually laughed. “I mean oh MY Brucie! You have this whole other thing going on that I don't know about!”

“Stop talking.” Bruce started making notes on the blueprints.

Tony stopped.

*************************

“Okay, I've been quiet for like two hours now.” Tony popped his head around the corner, startling Bruce so badly that he spilt coffee down the front of his shirt.

“Damn Tony.”

“Even when you swear you are quiet. It's just zero or a hundred with you isn't it?” Bruce just sighed and started pulling his shirt off. Tony raised an eyebrow and watched unabashedly. “Wow, you are just surprisingly fit under that ugly shirt. You're like the mousy librarian who takes her glasses off and is all the sudden Stacy's Mom. A little dad-boddy but hey, I can dig it.”

“I don't understand any of those references.” Bruce said, wiping the hot coffee off his chest. “Who’s Stacy?”

“What you never listened to emo kid music? It's an old song but the idea is for forever. Stacy's mom will always be the epitome of-”

“Tony if you keep talking I'm going to reprogram JARVIS to sound like an angry woman.”

“That's rude. JARVIS would never turn his back on me.”

“JARVIS.” Bruce called.

“Yes, Doctor Banner?” The AIs perfectly cultured voice came through the ceiling. “How may I be of assistance.”

“Would you please reroute your voice software? I am thinking--”

“Stop stop stop.” Tony held his hands up in surrender. “All I'm saying is that maybe you should borrow some of the Captains Under Armour and flaunt a little bit. Might get that mysterious man to notice-”

“JARVIS, angry woman voice. Perhaps Russian.”

“Yes sir.”

“Damnit I'm shutting up! JARVIS, you're grounded. Bruce. Low blow.” Tony slammed the door on his way out.

***********************

“Are you still mad at me?” The lights were low in the lab as Bruce started shutting down the computers, straightening his notes and started getting ready to leave.

“Hey Tony.”

“I know I drove you crazy today.” Tony sat on the desk, legs dangling close to Bruce's chair. “And maybe pushed a little too far. But this was... huge!! I had no idea you even thought about relationships. And I'm-I'm sorry for bugging you like that.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Yeah. Well that's pretty much the only time I'll ever apologize. So how long before we can look back on this and laugh?”

“You have jokes lined up?”

Tony grinned. “You have no idea. Like a movie in my head. So many great things just… WAITING to be tossed at you.”

“I'll let you know.” Bruce kept stacking paperwork. “Plans for tonight?”

“Oh you know, same old. Some charity ball full of rich people to go to. Maybe designing something to help save the world. Maybe starting a foundation to change people's lives. Perhaps flying to Europe to find a handful of hot girls to-”

“Tony.” Bruce dropped his head in his hands. “You talk SO much.”

“I have an image to uphold. Philanthropist. Playboy. Super rich. Iron man. I got a lot on my plate. In fact you're lucky all you have to worry about is turning that lovely shade of green when someone attacks you, and possibly where to take whatever lucky guy you are into for dinner.”

“Whatever lucky guy--?” Bruce looked up, surprised.

“Well yeah.” Tony shrugged. “Even if the guy DOESN'T know you get all green and beautiful? I'm sure he really enjoys everything else about you. Your cute messy hair, dorky glasses, all that intelligence, you know some guys really go for brainiacs, that whole hot genius thing is so much sexier than--”

“Tony.”

“Right. I'll be quiet. I just feel like sometimes if you'd let me say what I'm trying to say--mmph!!!!”

Bruce grabbed two fistfuls of Tony's shirt and yanked hard, tumbling the billionaire into his lap and sealing their lips together.

“For the record.” He broke the kiss just barely, lips still brushing against Tony's as he spoke. “Arrogant play boy types with great labs and spiky hair are my type.”

“I-I would have stopped talking like, THIS MORNING, if you would have just kissed me first.” Tony replied, eyes wide. “I could have avoided all the questions and--”

Bruce silenced him with another hard kiss.

************************

“You didn't tell me to be quiet once.” Tony said thoughtfully, propped up one elbow, drawing patterns onto Bruce's chest.

“Yeah well, I like what you had to say this time.” Bruce was smiling, tugging Tony back down to lay against him.

“You also didn't go big and green.”

“Only when I'm angry Tony. And you know, you shouldn't joke about that. When I… Hulk out. When the other guy comes forward, people really get hurt. It's not a ga--”

“Stop talking Bruce.” Tony clapped a hand over his mouth. “Or I will give you something else to do with your mouth.” Bruce raised his eyebrows, and Tony grinned, moving up to straddle him, kicking blankets out of the way. “Actually, I love that idea. Keep talking Brucie.”

#bruce banner #tony stark #Bruce banner/tony stark #science husbands #science bros #5+1 things

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ecotone99 · 5 years

Text

[MF] Kuyo Kuyo

Listening to classical music, especially Mozart’s Turkish March, was the best way to focus. The playful drills transitioning to festive chords always filled me with energy and cheered me up during stressful days. But my energizer had begun to wane as I reached the tenth day of exam prep. The drills now seemed to mock me and the chords beat in synch with my headache.

No worries, I had prepared a backup to wash away my fatigue. Just picturing the sweet milk tea and the chewy tapioca pearls eased a bit of the pounding in my head. I didn’t even feel annoyed when my roommate Mark ignored my greeting as I passed the shared living room, heading towards the kitchen.

There were three of us sharing the big apartment. Gideon, our third roommate wasn’t that bad. A bit oblivious and invading one's private space but with good intentions most of the time. We had our oddities and quirks but Mark leaned more on the extreme side of the scale.

People often indulge in their hobbies after finishing their main priorities, like studying or working. But for Mark, gaming was his main priority. He could throw himself into his games and ignore everything else.

The cans of energy drinks surrounding him and his bloodshot eyes meant that he probably pushed his limit for something ridiculous again.

If only he’d given the same passion to the more important things in life.

Each person handled stress in their own way, I guess. Some simply gave up and played games. Others, like me, prepared beforehand and had a pick-me-up in the refri—

I blinked and shook my head, trying to clear the imaginary numbers and formulas crammed inside my mind, and looked closer inside the refrigerator. My boba drink was nowhere to be found.

A fizz seeped into the kitchen as Mark cracked open another can, followed by audible gulps and lip-smacking.

Would Mark drink someone else’s stuff without permission? Of course, he would. He still hasn’t apologized to Gideon for that bottle of Jager.

I slammed the refrigerator door and stormed off to the living room. Mark didn’t even rise from his seat from all my stomping and huffing, merely pausing the game and connecting with my eyes.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I asked, seething.

“No,” Mark blurted out. His brows then furrowed as he processed what I said. “What is it this time?”

He scanned me, before putting down the controller and edging away from the TV and Playstation.

“My boba drink in the refrigerator. You took it, didn’t you?”

“Whaaat?” Mark’s voice turned high and squeaky, he sounded offended by my accusation. “Why would I do that? I don’t even like boba.”

“You said the same thing with the salt and vinegar chips, but I saw a half-eaten bag of it in your room last week.”

“That’s different. I prefer other chips, and I would choose other options before salty-vin. But I won’t say no to eating a bag or two.”

“That’s not the words you used when you tried them, you said — “ I stopped myself, realizing Mark had switched topic.

My headache flared up. I just wanted something to be right. That a plan I made would work out. But reality wasn’t so kind.

Now Mark began to spin a theory how it was more probable that our third roommate Gideon had taken it on the way to the library this morning. He was trying to blame on someone else.

I went behind the TV and grabbed hold of the main cable, staring Mark in the eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” he whispered with a threatening tone, but his body was frozen in place.

It felt great pulling the plug on the Playstation.

*****

Why was Will grinning like that, as if he’d just defeated a big bad? If anything, he was Sephirot and my poor PS4 was Aerith.

Thirty hours. I had invested over thirty hours for my next achievement: To clear Arcade Mode without losing a single hit point. And he pulls the plug when I’m on the last boss battle?

Some might say that my goal was impossible. Others had firmly expressed how it was a waste of time. But they wouldn’t know glory even if it flashed itself in front of them. The satisfaction behind completing such a grand achievement wasn’t just about defeating the machine. It was defeating it perfectly, thrashing it, showing who’s the boss. That it lacks the power of the human spirit.

Yes, it was humanity challenging the machines.

Of course I was mad when all my efforts got thrown out the window. Everyone knows that you can’t save in Arcade Mode, you must do it in one take. Of course I threw stuff at Will. It was expected. And what the hell was that about a boba-drink? I had already said that I didn’t like it. Why would I drink something I didn’t like?

“Check through my empty cans, your stupid boba isn’t here!”

Oh boy, Will was turning into a baby, screaming and shouting about boba this and boba that.

“It wasn’t me you, iron-ranker! It’s because you don’t listen to people that you can’t climb in League! Do you even know that only a small percentile who plays the game even manages to get that low of a rank? Reflect on your actions for heaven’s sake. Meditate on some Dark Soul and learn some patience!”

Great, he’s gone silent now, biting his lower lip. I was the victim here, damnit. And now he ran back to his room.

What the hell. I can’t handle this. Gideon can clean up this mess.

*****

The library was particularly wonderful this afternoon as the sound of paper turned and hushed whispers filled my ears. Goal-oriented students occupied the tables, everyone with a clear vision in mind of what they had to do. I knew that I just had to sit amongst them for an hour or so and I too would get a visit by Athena, Saraswati or maybe Tir. They were knocking on my mind’s door, ready to bless me with knowledge to—

The phone in my pocket vibrated.

Not today. Today was study day, my last chance to cram before the test.

But I’ll just check who’s calling. It won’t take a second.

Mark. How interesting. He doesn’t often initiate conversations with me.

The vibrations from the phone grabbed the attention of nearby students, who sent me angry glares. I rose from my seat and answered the call as I headed outside, curious to hear what Mark wanted. It won’t take a minute. It might be something important.

“Hey man, I need help.” Mark’s voice sounded frustrated. “Will’s having a fit again.”

“Oh no, what happened?”

“Someone drank his boba and blamed me. Went all crazy.”

“The one with those chewy things? How strange that he thought you would take it. Didn’t you say you hated it?”

“That’s what I said! And you know what he did after? He pulled the plug on my Playstation!”

“No, he did not!”

“While I was playing!”

“I’m sorry to hear that. How many hours?”

“Thirty plus. He’s shut himself in his room now and I don’t know how to handle this. Could you talk to him? Check what’s wrong? Because something isn’t right. He’s been stomping around in his room and blasting that irritating piano music for a while now. I don’t think he’s really mad about the drink. Well, maybe a bit, but it’s never just because of a drink or a snack when it comes to Will.”

“Why don’t you talk to him?” I asked. “Some bonding between you two would be great.”

“Right, like when I apologized for spilling a few drops on his book?”

“The book was soaked, and ‘Here you go’ isn’t really an apology. I must give you credit for the towel and the napkins though.”

“I ain’t touching that ticking time-bomb. It’s best to let a specialist handle it.”

“Why that’s sweet of you to say. See, give Will some compliments like this now and then. I think he’ll appreciate it.”

“He’ll just think I insulted him again. Look, can you defuse the bomb?”

“I’ll do that when I get back home. I’m studying right now.”

A chuckle leaked out from the other side. “Yeah right, have you even opened a book yet?”

“No, but I’m feeling focused and energized.”

“Glad to hear that. I’ll hang at my girlfriend’s tonight.”

“Alright, hope you have fun there.”

“Oh, you know I will,” Mark said and hung up.

A bit crude in character, but Mark means well, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. I headed back to my seat and flipped open my book in linguistics, but the deities weren’t knocking on my door anymore. A new seed had grown inside my mind, distracting me from my studies.

Ah well, let’s go and check on Will. It won’t take an hour. I can study after.

*****

Rachmaninoff always had a flair for drama. His Opus 3 in C-sharp drenched my room with heavy bass tones and feelings of dread. It made me think of a monster swimming at the bottom of the ocean, biding its time to strike.

The music was supposed to warn other residents that I was in a bad mood and not to disturb me. But oblivious Gideon had ignored it and knocked anyway. Since my lock was broken there was only one thing to do. I cranked up the volume on my stereo even further.

Gideon entered. His expression mixed concern with curiosity. That man had no fear. He would start chatting with a group of hostile strangers without hesitation if he found them interesting. Glares and snide remarks bounced off his thick skin. Sometimes I wished my skin was the same.

“Will, how are you?” he shouted over the music. “I heard that you had a fight with Mark.”

“It’s nothing,” I said, not making eye contact and staring at my book.

“I’m sorry, but can you speak louder? I can’t hear you over the music.”

I sighed and turned off my stereo.

“It’s nothing,” I repeated, and returned to my desk again, swiveling my chair and showing my back to Gideon.

“Oh, alright then,” he said, and sat down on my bed without asking for permission.

He stayed silent for a full minute while I tried to read my book. Through my peripherals, I saw him lean closer to the stereo.

“Was that Rachmaninoff?” Gideon asked, breaking the silence.

I nodded as I flipped a page.

“What happened to Mozart and Handel?” he continued.

“I was in the mood for Rachmaninoff,” I said. “Do you mind? I’m trying to read here.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all,” Gideon said. “Are you perhaps reading something dramatic or tragic?”

I finally looked at him with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“It sounded very dramatic,” he said and shrugged, “so I was wondering if you played the music to enhance your readings.”

He leaned closer towards me, his eyes squinting to read the words in my book. “What are you reading?”

“Multivariable calculus.”

“Ah, a tragedy then.”

“What do you want, Gideon?”

“Oh, I’m just checking on you. Since you had a fight with Mark.”

“And I said it’s nothing.”

“That’s not a proper answer to my question. You don’t respond with ‘It’s nothing’ to ‘How are you’. That’s just wrong in both syntax and context.”

“No it’s not. I’m referring to the fight. It’s correct.”

“But I’m referring to you. That should’ve been obvious.”

The numbers in the book couldn’t stave off Gideon’s relentless attacks. I turned around, staring him down.

“I am fine. Thank you,” I said, enunciating each word.

“It’s not proper to lie either,” Gideon said. “What’s wrong?”

He then patted on my bed, like he was playing bongo drums, urging me to sit next to him.

There was no way to get him out of the room. Trying to shove him out would only result in him locking my arms in some MMA-crap while he continued with the conversation like it was all normal. I could only oblige.

“It’s more than the boba-drink, isn’t it?” Gideon asked, as I sat down.

“I’m just worried,” I said.

“About what?”

“About...everything?” There, I said it. Now I wouldn’t be able to stop. “About life, about choice, about… everything. Will I graduate? Will I get a job? Will I even be happy with what I work with? I don’t hate math, but I don’t really like it either. Can I really live like that? I’m just worried that it won’t work out. My parents wants me to move to Shanghai with them after I graduate, but I’m not sure if I want to. On one hand, it’s a great career opportunity, but on the other hand I’ve had my whole life here in this town, I don’t want to up and leave everything. Will it even work out there? And if it doesn’t, can I even return back to this town after wasting my time there?”

The words vomited out of my mouth. Each worry I expressed felt like an acid reflux.

Gideon listened as I prattled on. He nodded and tilted his head every now and then, maybe to respond but stopped himself. Whenever I choked on my worries, he would rub my back with upward strokes as if gently guiding the words out of my mouth.

“You’re taking things too seriously,” he concluded when I was done.

“Of course,” I said. “It’s my life. Why shouldn’t I take it seriously?”

But he wagged his finger in response. “Sometimes it’s easier to let things happen without worrying about the consequences,”

“Besides,” Gideon continued, drumming his fingers on his knees and gazing at the ceiling, “I’ve always hated the word ‘worry’ in the English language. It sounds too close to ‘world’, and ‘weary’, and those are too big and serious sometimes.”

He muttered ‘worry’ to himself a few times, grimacing as he tasted the word. “It reminds me of ‘warrior’ too, and they also take themselves too seriously. I wish we had borrowed more words from other languages.”

“And throw English into more chaos?” I said and shook my head.

“Do you know how they say ‘worry’ in Japanese?” Gideon asked.

I didn’t.

“It’s kuyo kuyo.”

I could only chuckle. “It sounds like baby-talk.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it,” Gideon said and snapped his fingers. “Baby-talk. You can’t take it seriously if it’s baby-talk. When you think about ‘worry’ in English, it becomes all serious and overwhelming. But start exchanging ‘worry’ with kuyo kuyo and suddenly it becomes much easier to handle.”

He put a hand on my shoulder. “Do that.”

“Do what?”

“Those things you said just now. I worry about this. I worry about that, but instead of saying worry, say kuyo kuyo.”

“That’s just silly.” Besides, I didn’t want to experience that vomiting sensation again.

“Give it a try. I can start,” Gideon said and cleared his throat. “I kuyo kuyo that I’ll wake up late for tomorrow’s lecture.”

He looked at me with eagerness in his eyes.

Still feeling the nausea from my word vomit, I closed my eyes and whispered. “I kuyo kuyo that I’ll choose poorly.”

“There you go,” Gideon said and patted my back. “I kuyo kuyo that my date with Angie won’t go well.”

“I kuyo kuyo that Mark won’t forgive me.”

“He’ll be fine,” Gideon said. “He’ll just think of it as another challenge. Besides his girlfriend will probably cheer him up. My turn.”

And we continued on for a while. Replacing each worry with a kuyo kuyo. It sounded silly. It sounded childish. But most importantly, it sounded less daunting. As if I spoke about someone else’s problem.

“Getting late now,” Gideon said as he checked his phone for the time. “Let’s order some pizza for dinner.”

“Thanks, Gideon,” I said. “I feel much better now.”

He flashed a satisfied grin. “Any more worries you want to transform into kuyo kuyo’s?”

“I think I’m out of worries,” I responded and felt it to be true. Exhaustion clinged to me and my mind wobbled around in a groggy blankness, but the splitting headache had gone.

Gideon patted me on the shoulder.

“I have one left,” he said. “You want to hear it?”

“Sure.”

“I kuyo kuyo that you’ll throw something at me because I drank your boba-drink. Sorry.”

A chuckle rolled out from my throat as I reached for a pillow.

Thank you for reading. Thoughts and feedback are always welcome!

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sheepydraws · 7 years

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I'll Kick Your Ass! I'll Kick My Fiancee's Ass! I'll Kick My Own Ass! (4/11)

Last Chapter

Last Spring:

March 16th, Kasumi Tendo uploaded a private video to her account. The next day she released her first bento tutorial, starting her most requested series. It is still the video on her account with the most hits, even though it’s quality does not perhaps reflect that of her other videos. Unbeknownst to anyone, the rice balls she made in that video were stuck together with condensed milk and later served to her family with mango slices, because she was too anxious to shape them properly. She felt as though she was working under a deadline she had already missed. She didn’t want anyone sniffing around that private video.

Nabiki had shot it, and she had insisted her sister put it on the internet so it could be revealed with the click of a button. She said it would be evidence, in case the incident ever went to court, but Kasumi knew the threat of blackmail when she heard it.

Kasumi knew what her sister was capable of. Kasumi considered her hands washed of Nabiki’s little business venture. She may buy the alcohol and supply the drugs, but it is Nabiki who keeps things running smoothly—with blackmail, bribes, and the threat of physical violence, if necessary. (One does not grow up in a dojo without learning a thing or two). (Nor do they know a doctor is in love with them and don’t occasionally swipe a prescription pad).

Okay, so Kasumi wasn’t a saint, but she still didn’t like having that video on her channel. For a while it had been too easy to see it every time she made an update. The little grey thumbnail would hover there, menacingly, and she would stare until she found herself clicking it.

The video opens on a stairwell.

“Wow,” Nabiki says, “I can’t believe it’s all still here.”

“You only left a year ago, sis.” Akane says. She started htr not too long after this video, since there was no longer any reason to put it off, and only a few weeks later the difference between her face in the video and real life would surprise Kasumi.

“Oh, sister dearest-“ Nabiki began in sing-song, sounding like she’s about to launch into a “I am ten months older than you and so you must listen to my older sister bullshit” sort of speech. That is when they reach the top of the stairs and turn to find Kodachi and her brother standing there.

“Sister?” Kodachi says, looking confused.

You can’t see Nabiki’s expression, but the camera bounces as she jostles Akane, “Just a little ribbing.”

“Some of us actually respect our siblings.” Kuno replies haughtily.

“What are you even doing here?” Nabiki says, zooming in on Kuno’s face.

“I am here to see how my sister is doing in her last year at my alma mater,”

Nabiki snorts. “You pretentious fuck,” She mutters under her breath.

Sometimes Kasumi pauses the video here and prays for the footage to be different. Fifteen minutes of Nabiki and Kuno bickering would be perfectly alright. She wouldn’t mind watching that over and over.

Then there is a thud and Kuno’s face disappears from the screen, replaced by a blur of red, and the crash of something hitting the floor.

The camera pans down so you can see Kuno and Ranma as a tangled heap of limbs on the ground. Ranma rights himself and nonchalantly perches on Kuno’s chest.

“Hey, Nabiki, you just got me out of study hall!” He says with a wave.

Kuno rises beneath him like the ocean floor shifting, sending Ranma to the ground. “Who on earth are you?” He asks, wiping down the front of his now wrinkled button down, “And what nefarious thing did Nabiki Tendo do to allow you this truancy?”

Ranma paused in getting up to look at Kuno like he just spouted off a conspiracy theory involving aliens, cows, and hormones in the drinking water.

“Anyway,” Ranma says, turning back to Nabiki, “Mr. Winkleman said I could come show my guest around the school, but you know your way around, so I’m going across the street for a hot dog.”

“Seriously,” Kuno says, now standing, and as dusted off as he is going to get, “Who is this guy?”

“He’s a friend of mine.” Akane replies quickly.

“You two aren’t friends.” Kodachi says, with an expression that claims lying is a foreign concept.

“We’re distant cousins.” Akane says. “We’re friends when we’re out of school.”

“Good thing you’re lying,” Ranma calls over his shoulder. He’s headed for the stairwell, already fishing a wallet out of his back pocket, “Or things would be pretty awkward at home.” He doesn’t seem to think anything of the remark, but Kuno won’t let it go. He grabs Ranma by the shoulder, and Ranma stops, though he shakes the hand off.

“I’m confused. How do you know Nabiki and her brother?”

Ranma smirks. “I don’t.”

“Good lord, man, stop being obtuse and explain what’s going on here or I shall report you to the front desk.”

Ranma rolls his eyes. “Stop speaking in a British accent or I shall have to beat the snot out of you.”

Akane comes into the frame, for a second silhouetted by the window, turning her into a shadow with a white halo. “Lay off you two. Ranma is a family friend, okay? That’s why I called him a friend.”

“Would you stop lying?” Ranma says.

Akane looks like she might growl at him. “Would you stop antagonizing everyone?”

“Only if you tell the truth for once.”

“This is Kuno, okay? He’s an asshole. He doesn’t deserve the truth.”

Kuno looks a bit hurt by this, but he doesn’t have a chance to get back into the conversation. It has become a two person match.

“What is it with you,” Ranma says, “And having to economize the truth? I don’t lie. I came out the second I heard the word trans, I broke up with my girlfriend as soon as you and I got engaged, and I told all my teachers that as far as I am concerned this year is a waste of my time, and you know what I get for that? Respect.”

Kuno is sputtering in the background, but Nabiki has cut him out of the frame. Maybe she could already tell, by the colors on Akane’s face, red, then pale, then burning red again, that this was a moment that needed to be on film.

“You should try it,” Ranma continues, “Then you wouldn’t spend all your time terrified that people are going to find out you’re exactly who you are.”

Akane’s hands ball into fists so tight her arms shake. “Shut up.” She hisses under her breath. A warning more than an order.

“No!” Ranma yells, “I will not shut up! I got sent to this lame-ass school for my senior year, the year that was supposed to be me and my girlfriend just fucking around and going to prom, but instead I’m here, with point zero friends, just cause I’m engaged to some girl who won’t even admit she’s a girl.”

Akane slaps him, and the camera shakes with the impact. Nabiki turns for a minute and you can see that the jostling was not caused by Akane’s palm, but rather the small crowd of students who have gathered to watch the spectacle. Most have money or food, probably headed out for lunch.

When the camera comes back to Akane and Ranma you can tell that they have seen the other students too. Both their faces are red, though there is a pale outline around the hand print on Ranma’s cheek.

“None of that is true!” Akane says to Ranma, though it is clearly for the benefit of the crowd.

“I’ll stake my honor on it!” Ranma yells, Akane his only focus. “I swear it on my honor as a fighter.”

“Fine then, fight me for it!” Even Akane takes a step back after that outburst, surprised as anyone else.

“You’re on.” Ranma says. “You, me, the parking lot by the basketball court. Now.”

With that they race down the stairs, Nabiki and a horde of underclassmen right behind them. They go through the side exit so they won’t have to go past the front desk and get asked what the heck they’re doing. The sunlight is momentarily blinding, but Nabiki keeps Akane in frame, elbowing underclassmen out of the way to do it, judging from the pained grunts in the background.

Akane and Ranma face off in the parking lot, circling each other for a minute to get the lay of the blacktop.

“You call it, Nabiki.” Akane says.

“You’re going to get expelled!” Nabiki yells over the crowd.

“It’s too late in the year for that.” Akane replies, and she was right.

“You two should just stop now, before someone gets hurt.” That someone won’t be Nabiki, though. She is not stupid enough to get between them.

“This is my honor!” They both scream, and they take that as their cue to start.

The first time Kasumi saw this she was expecting a careful, somewhat ritualistic judo match.

This is not that. This is a brawl. This is anything goes kind of fighting. You’d think that two people as skilled as Akane and Ranma would be kicking and dodging, flipping and throwing, but there is no time for that. Their bodies collide like monster trucks at a rally.

The underclassmen are screaming, but they can’t cover the sickening smack of flesh hitting flesh with the intention to hurt. Some people are cheering for Akane, some for Ranma. Among the encouragement are slurs that make Kasumi’s stomach flip.

Watching from the outside, weeks later, the whole thing seemed pretty pathetic. Not the damage Ranma and Akane inflicted on each other, that was serious. By the time teachers arrived to break them up they both had wounds that required stitches, scratches on their bodies from where they clawed at each other and where they scraped against the blacktop after they went down on it, and Akane was crying, her face a mess of snot and tears and blood, crumpled and bright red like a valentine someone had thrown in the gutter.

“Damnit, Ranma!” She screamed as the Chinese teacher hauled her away in a half nelson. Her voice cracked so hard on Ranma’s name you expect her throat to split, and Kasumi’s heart shattered. It was a pointless fight. The damage was done. The mark Akane got on her permanent record didn’t stop the rumors. Didn’t stop the anger and confusion. Kasumi didn’t even go to the damn school anymore, and she still got wind of the tales being spread. Akane Tendo is gay, no he’s a tranny, no she’s a dyke. She’s engaged, child marriage, judo, tae kwon do, Tendo.

You can already hear those words beginning to float through the air as Akane and the Chinese teacher disappear round the bend in the parking lot towards the front office.

The camera pans to Ranma, sucking on his split lip, blood already drying on his chin. He glances up at Nabiki as best he can with his left eye swelling up. The teacher holding his shoulder, biology, maybe, squints at Nabiki as well.

“What?” Ranma barks.

“I don’t know.” Nabiki says, “I guess I’m waiting for an explanation.”

Ranma touches his eye, and winces. “Your sister is a violent maniac.” He beams at the camera for a second, sending more blood oozing down his chin. “We’re made for each other.”

With that the screen goes mercifully black.

#ranma 1/2 #fanfiction #college au #epistolary #chapter 4 #rankane #ranma saotome #akane tendo #trans!akane #trans!ranma

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