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lokislastlove · 3 years

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Best Laid Plans (Fluffy Bucky x Reader) p3

Summary: Bucky is determined to woo you properly, no matter how rusty he is at dating these days.

Warnings: Some smut at the end, oral (fr), Bucky has bad luck, but we love him anyway. 18+ only please.

This is my first attempt at Fluff, it is not my strength, to say the least, so by all means ignore this. @saiyanprincessswanie I wrote this for you, I hope you like it and with any luck maybe it brings a tiny smile to your face when you need it. 💕 Also remember this is fiction, I know Bucky’s arm is fancy as hell and has no flaws.

Chapter 3 -

🌹 The Third Date 🌹

The office is abuzz with rumors of your new romance. For obvious reasons Pepper never shuns coworkers dating, but does caution that she expects everyone to remain professional regardless of the outcome. Bucky is one of the most sought after bachelors in the building so naturally people notice when he fixes his attention on you. For the two days following your fruit-filled frolic in the hills Bucky is constantly around. He brings you coffee, flowers by the dozen every day, saves you a seat during the meetings, cooks you lunch and even brings Kal in to see you.

“Okay, I can’t wait any longer. You willing to give me that second chance, tomorrow?” Bucky bursts into your office an hour before you leave Friday evening.

You gasp as the door slams against the wall and he cringes, “uh, sure. I’m free tomorrow. Should I just go ahead and wear my yoga pants?”

“Ha ha. Very funny. And no. I let Steve pick the date idea this time. Just don’t wear anything that you don’t want getting a little dirty,” he winks.

You let out a sigh, “wouldn’t it be easier to just tell me what we’re doing?”

“That’s no fun, Angel.”

——

The next morning you wake up to a text from Bucky, just like you have every morning since your first date.

Good Morning, Beautiful! Can’t wait to see you today. I’ll pick you up at 11am. 😀

Bucky has managed to make waking up a highlight of your day, something you never thought possible. Plus you got him to start using emojis, which Steve claims he will never forgive you for.

You choose some dark wash jeans and a V-neck t-shirt with a jacket and boots. Stylish but casual, you feel good, excited to find out what adventure Bucky will be dragging you into this time.

Your phone dings as you race out the front door and gulp when you see the bike again. God he looks good with it though, his light brown leather jacket highlights his olive skin and his dimpled smile has you swooning as you reach him. Determined to get a hang of this motorcycle thing you jump on back and cling to Bucky with a bit more confidence today.

Bucky reigns in his speed this time, and you find yourself enjoying the rush of the wind on your face and the warmth of him in your arms. To your shock Bucky leads you to a ceramic shop not far from Avengers tower, specifically for couples pottery class.

“Steve assures me that this is supposed to be fun and romantic,” Bucky says as you find yourself sitting next to him on a dirty stool with a spinning round table in front of you.

“Steve hasn’t been watching old romance movies again, has he?”

Bucky squints at you, “Actually, yeah but he said it had ghosts in it, and I got enough of those.”

You grab his hand and give it a squeeze before taking a deep breath, “Ok, let’s do this!”

It takes about a minute to realize what a terrible idea this is as Bucky curses under his breath and his arm starts making strange whirling noises.

“Oh shit, uh is clay good for your arm?” You ask, nodding at the way the plates of his metal arm seems to twitch and groan as the wet clay slide and congeal between them as they shift.

“Fuck,” Bucky curses as he shakes out his metal arm and you grimace at the worrisome noise it makes before it stops moving all together.

“Do you want to take it off?” you offer.

Bucky looks frustrated with a hint of panic as he sits there contemplating the best move. He still isn’t very comfortable going without his arm in public.

“Or we could just decide not to take Steve’s dating advice anymore and go back to the tower and get cleaned up?” You laugh and bump him with your elbow.

He scoffs out a laugh, “yeah. You know I used to be the one that was good at this stuff, I was the charming one who helped get Steve a date.”

“Oh is that so? Well I think you’re doing better than you think you are,” you smirk.

“Yeah?” He asks hopefully.

“Yeah, now come on Casanova,” you stand and wipe your hands on the towel nearby.

You can’t help but laugh as you follow him out the door, looking at the light gleam off the metal that isn’t covered in clay.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, it’s just… gonna be hard to convince me you’re not a complete mess after this one.”

——

You could tell Bucky’s confidence had taken a major hit, well three major hits to be honest. And while he constantly berated himself for everything that went wrong, you couldn’t help but love him even more with each blunder. And when he doesn’t insist you give him another shot after that disastrous pottery date, you seek out Steve’s advice.

“Do you think I should try to make a move? Ask him on a date maybe? Or is that insulting to … men from your era,” you finish awkwardly.

Steve laughs softly, “I think Bucky could use a sign that you aren’t willing to give up yet. You should give it a shot, as long as it’s what you want and not just out of pity.”

“Of course it’s not out of pity, you really think I’d do that?” you ask, trying not to get too offended.

“No, doll, of course I don’t. But that’s likely what he’s going to think.” He placates and gives you a knowing look before walking out of your office.

You push back your shoulders and pull out your phone to text Bucky.

Hey if you’re free tonight you should come over to my place. Maybe around 8pm? No dress code. 😘

🌹 The Fourth Date 🌹

Bucky arrives at 7:50pm that evening and you push the buzzer to let him in. You leave the door cracked for him and finish the final touches.

“Angel?” He calls as he knocks and you hear the door creak open. “Uh, hello?” His voice falters as he closes the door behind him and takes in the candles neatly arranged along a path of rose petals.

You hear him remove his heavy boots and call your name as he follows the path further into your apartment and closer to where you’re waiting for him. You shift nervously on your feet as you wait with baited breath for him to appear around the corner.

“Angel, what’s going..” His voice gets caught in his throat as he stands in your doorway and sees you waiting for him.

You’re wearing a simple nightgown, a silky robe and stockings. The thin straps and sleek material drape softly over your curves, enticing enough to make him pause but not overly revealing to be considered scandalous. You didn’t want to be too bold and scare him off too fast, or make yourself appear too desperate.

“Hi, Bucky,” you smile as you watch his pupils dilate and his chest strain against his shirt as his breathing gets heavier.

He clears his throat and his cheeks glow pink as his eyes flick up to meet yours, “uh hey, Angel. Am I dreaming?”

You laugh as you take a few steps toward him and he mirrors you, “I just thought that maybe I’d surprise you with a date, this time. If you’re up for it.”

“Well, I will admit that my interest is quite peaked already.” He jokes, his eyes roving down your body once more as he gently takes your hands and holds them out to get a better look at you.

You giggle and rolls your eyes, “Nothing crazy, just a simple movie date, and I have the perfect set up. Follow me.”

You pull him over to your bedroom window and climb out onto the fire escape, he follows closely, his curiosity climbing with each creaky step.

“You sure this is safe?” He asks as the stairs rattle under his weight.

“No,” you say simply as you reach the top, “but it’s worth it.”

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes in the rooftop space that you’ve meticulously decorated for him. Strings of lights hang on the low rooftop walls. A large air mattress is tucked between the pipes and vents, facing a large projector screen. You made sure to add mountains of fluffy pillows and soft blankets to keep you cozy under the stars.

“This is amazing,” he mutters as he eyes the plate of snacks and bottle of wine waiting on the bed.

“I know, isn’t the view amazing? I’ve always loved it up here, but I didn’t know it had this much potential until now,” you remark as you look out onto the glimmering view of the city skyline.

Bucky’s fingers slip between yours and curl sweetly as he guides you over to the soft bed. He flops down and settles in before opening his arm for you to join him. You grab the remote and the wine and curl up next to him. Drawing up your legs and letting them rest against his muscular thigh.

“I don’t deserve all this,” he utters sadly as he watches you pour the wine.

“Steve said you’d say something stupid like that,” you laugh as he looks stunned for a moment. “So let me just settle this right now.” You take deep breath and let it out with a quiet huff.

“I have been the happiest I’ve ever been since you asked me out on that first date. I look forward to waking up every morning knowing I’ll get to see you and possibly, maybe, do more than just ogle you from afar. Oh don’t look at me like that!” You laugh and smack Bucky’s shoulder when he smirks at you and wiggles his brow.

“I know you think you blew it after our first three dates but all I remember is seeing a passionate man willing to chase down a dog through the mud, even if it meant embarrassing himself. I remember you saving me from a potentially fatal injury, and I remember a man so desperate to impress me that he took advice from Steve Rogers,” you bite your lip as you watch Bucky choke out a laugh at your jab at his best friend.

“You may think all of these moments are flaws, but honestly I wouldn’t want to change a single thing. So let’s just –” Your speech is cut off when Bucky’s hands are suddenly on the side of your face and pull you in for a blazing kiss.

It’s as though you’ve unlocked something in him as he devours you, his tongue trailing across your lip and delving into your mouth when you open for him. You moan as his hands slip down to your neck, his thumbs pressing ever so slightly on your pressure points before he pulls away just enough to kiss and nibble along your jaw. The pleasure and passion is dizzying and you feel your body bend to his will. Your hands grasp at his shirt as he nuzzles and sucks along your neck now, making his way to your clavicle.

The feather pillow braces your head as Bucky lays you down and hovers above you, his body heat warming you as the cool night breeze tickles over each spot he kisses.

“God, Angel, you have no idea how badly I want you right now. How badly I’ve wanted you for so long.” He groans against your chest, dragging his nose over the thin material between your breasts.

“Me too,” you breathe.

You push at the lapel of his jacket, trying to urge him to take it off. He sits up, fixing his eyes on you as he slowly strips off his coat and tosses it away, followed by his shirt immediately after. Your breath hitches as you let your fingers lightly glide down his stomach, feeling every ripple of firm muscle under his heated skin.

“Wow, the girls at work would be so jealous right now,” you kid.

“I’m almost offended that you think this is my best feature,” he scoffs gesturing to his stomach, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“By all means, show me more. I did come up here for a show after all,” you tease, tilting your head and biting your lip as you eye the growing bulge in his pants.

“Oh, I think I know how to keep you entertained,” he smirks and lowers himself over you, his hot breath leaving goosebumps on your skin as he dips lower down your body.

You look down as he pauses over your quivering center and lifts the hem of your dress up to reveal your lace panties. He growls lowly and hooks his finger under them, pulling them quickly to the side. You twitch as he blows lightly over your lips, the cool air hitting the slick arousal already pooling between your thighs. He chuckles as you grip the blankets tightly and he pushes his long thick tongue between your folds, circling your bud at the top. You let out a long moan as his fervor increases, the feeling of his rough tongue dipping into your dripping hole and then back up to flick over your clit is driving you closer and closer to the edge.

After the past two weeks of the most intense sexual tension you’ve ever experienced it doesn’t take much for him to have you squirming under his touch. Your toes curl and a broken scream echoes over the rooftops as you come on his hungry lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos as your eyes flutter open and see him hovering over your face once more.

Your jaw slackens, pupils blown as you take in his debauched state, his tousled hair, lips and beard glistening with your come. You reach up and pull him down to you, tasting yourself on his tongue. You feel his metal arm fumble with his jeans between you as he pulls out his aching cock. Your eyes flick down in curiosity and you can’t help but gasp as you gaze at his veiny, thick length.

“You see how hard you make me?” He moans, fisting the base of his leaking cock.

You bite your lip, feeling an overwhelming desire to let him use you in any way he wants. Your body arching into him and your hips rolling desperately. Your submissive side blooming under his dominant tone.

You whimper and meet his eye, “fuck me, Bucky. Please.”

Your voice is soft and timid, nothing like the typical commanding confidence you have in your daily life, and it sends a thrill through Bucky. He latches onto your thighs and pushes them up toward your chest, exposing your cunt to him and he guides himself inside, moaning freely as your walls stretch to fit him.

“I’m never letting you go. My perfect, Angel.”

#Bucky Barnes x reader #fluffy bucky #fluffy bucky x reader #fluffy fic #smut #Bucky Barnes

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life-rewritten · 3 years

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OMG!! I just found your blog through a WBL fan sharing your post about WBL on Instagram, and I am SOOOOO happy to see that you noticed and appreciate the tutor and fighter couple from Why R U series too. If possible, please write an analysis about this couple, about any specific aspect you deem as most important or just generally, whatever you are okay with. I love reading your analysis and the insights it gives me, and I just finished binge reading all of your writings on my favorite bl (1)

Hi wow mindblown by this comment Thank you so much for letting me know that my stuff is being shared I really appreciate that and I am so grateful that you took time of your day to come speak to me. I adore Fighter and Tutor, like they’re my favourite couple ever. What happened when why r u was airing was I wasn’t yet analysing BLs at that time otherwise I would have been writing essays and essays about them. Because it’s been so long since I went back to watch them I’m going to let you see some of my drafts on how I would have broken their relationship into pieces and analysed. Because they are incredible and I really always feel sad when people see them as just like a se*ual couple when there’s more to them than that. So I will let you see the first drafts and my ideas on them through this ask and I hope that's okay for now. Maybe after my other shows I will like go back and rewatch them and start analysing more about them. If I do I’d probably do a youtube video about them because they’re so good.

Here’s some of the analysis for them that I wrote:

The theme for these two is the struggle with internalised homophobia and self-acceptance. They both had this obstacle in themselves as they fell for each other and tried hard to avoid and run away from what they felt. It’s been a long journey for them being into each other since the first time they met but not really realising what they felt. Fighter did but he went into extreme panic mode and tried to run away immediately he felt that. So he tried to stay by Tutor’s side through the teasing and bullying because Tutor made him feel great and happy always but then with pressure from his father and the path he was meant to take to keep on being seen as successful, he thought his feelings for Tutor were useless and wrong. Plus he didn’t know if it was reciprocated so that caused even more fear for him which is why he just stayed with teasing and finally kater in thinking Tutor likes Hwa he chose to pull her away from him by taking her attention but also he chose to keep what they have as enemies/haters that way and avoid being near Tutor. This is why they end up hating each other a lot by the beginning of Why R U which is like 3 years later or something after he chose to stay with Hwa.

Tutor didn’t understand fully why he got angry, jealous and annoyed, he had an inclination from the first year that Fighter liked men and he was actually hopeful about it because deep down he had feelings of wanting to also flirt with Fighter, wanting to stay with Fighter even when annoyed him and bullied him. He liked Fighter’s softness at times and he liked the way he felt even though he didn’t understand why he was so rifled and affected by Fighter’s presence when no one else has been able to do that to him before. But he became upset when Fighter chose to date Hwahwa because it was his automatic issue with IH that of course Fighter doesn’t like him but he likes girls, so he got jealous and sad and proceeded to also dislike Fighter because he had this effect on him whilst still trying to date his best friend who had feelings for Fighter.

They both have had unknowingly pent up feelings for each other, so once Fighter breaks the barrier by their first kiss, they both go into extreme panic and they both could no longer pretend any more with what they have. Which is why the first episodes they both keep struggling to keep their attraction with each other quiet because its been 3 years since they wanted each other that way. Fighter has so much pent up attraction and needs to give into his feelings that each time they have a chance to break that barrier it’s intense and crazy. Both have been longing, pining secretly for each other since the beginning of the show. What happens next is for Fighter he has to choose to finally accept that he cares a lot, a lot , a lot about Tutor, he finally starts to learn more about this person he loves and he starts to want to protect and keep Tutor happy and by his side. When it comes to finally choosing to let go of Hwa and choose to fight for Tutor and start knowing if he feels the same way. It’s a leap of faith he takes when he breaks up with Hwa. He realises he’s the one stopping his wishes from happening with Tutor because he keeps being in denial about what they are because he’s scared it’s only him that’s gay and has feelings for the other.

It’s only after tutor sister tells him that he’s holding back his feelings does he realise that it’s time to talk about their unstable relationship and Fighter at that moment had also come to terms with his break up with Hwa after making out with tutor revealed the truth, that’s why on the rooftop they do a test that ultimately breaks their walls down and choose to give in to their feelings no matter how scared they are about it being reciprocated. When Tutor looks away and loses the game it’s a symbol to Fighter that he’s also been the same as him from the start. Tutor looks away sadly thinking he’s the one who has the feelings but Fighter just loses it and lets him know its equal which is why I love that scene so much because for so long both of them because of IH has been avoiding thinking the other had the same feelings for them when they both from the start have felt love for a long time. And from then they go on a journey to learn about what this means, if it’s real feelings and not just attraction hence their beach vacation which is essentially them asking if they could love each other and be in a real relationship, and if they can take on their obstacles around them. The beach solidifies for them their feelings so they choose each other for life hence the earring and necklace. But it’s fast paced how they feel because it’s just confirmation, now Tutor starts to realise that Fighter is actually different than he thought he was and he falls so fast, he now realises how much he loves Fighter and how much Fighter made him want to fight for his happiness and life. Tutor has not had hope for happiness and ease in his life, because he’s always had to fight to survive on his own. So when Fighter shows up like a prince charming and constantly is connected to saving him time and time again, it’s exactly him realising there’s someone who does represent that hope that he’d be fine. Hence why the final obstacle is Tutor regressing and starting to think because of IH and society that he and Fighter are just a pipe dream.

They go back to face the world only for Fighters father to bring back all the fear, internalised homophobia and obstacles they had. Fighter panics and thinks he was right; the reason why he never told Tutor his feelings was because he was afraid the other would break his heart (was not gay, did not have feelings for him, would make fun of him etc) so when Tutor breaks up with him he loses his mind after trying hard to let go. When he sees that actually Tutor is taunting him and is still flirting with a guy, not him, he proceeds drunk and upset to try and get back moments from the beach scene/ past make out scenes to keep that spark alive but realises Tutor is not okay this time and he’s the one forcing it. He also acted out because with them the truth comes out each time they’re physical with other romantically. It’s a kiss that caused them to finally tell each other how they felt. That’s always been the way they break their walls down.

It’s what causes him to break down and finally reveal the truth he’s loved Tutor since he met him, he’s just been afraid of all that’s happening even if it’s happening he still wants to be with Tutor. Tutor however breaks his heart even more so he backs off. Tutor on the other hand is broken and mentally exhausted back to depression, back to having to fake being strong and deal with the futility of hope and joy in his life as he’s always been used to. He gets seen by Fighter and doesn’t have it on him to fight him away, so decides to stay in an idealistic fantasy, tells him to hold him and breaks his walls down again. Tutor is always having to fake being strong because it’s how he survives so whenever Fighter enters his world his vulnerability scares him, that’s why his sister gives him the image of a cactus. He’s tough and sharp or pretends to be with his demeanour but actually he’s just a boy who wants to be happy and be safe and survive. So when Fighter shows up at his weakest moments, as he struggles to deal with his mental exhaustion and heart break, he gives in because again Fighter represents to him that hope. He starts to waver and want to stay in that lie for a long time with Fighter. Hence when he wakes up and Fighter is gone he thinks its all over and he finally breaks down completely.

Only when Fighter goes he breaks down in anguish truly thinking he lost him. Fighter finally comes out to his dad and fights his views, And we end up back at the beach, a place which represented authenticity and truth for them, it’s their truest realest self, but it also was their escapism. So Fighter coming there and letting Tutor know there’s no more obstacles in their way makes them both finally equally start a stable relationship with no more fear or care about anything. These twos relationship is full of tension and they both feel the chemistry, like magnets their bodies are drawn together, every scene they’re in, it’s their love language physical touch not bl fan service. They just naturally want to be in contact with each other and also their pent up feelings leads to them constantly wanting to sleep together because of hormones and well because they enjoy their se*ual life, nothing bad about that it’s realistic for couples to be that horny, that needy and that touchy.

It’s people who don’t get the context of internalised homophobia and what being in the closet is like for people with this anxiety and self hate caused by how they think society views them and treats them if out, those are the people who think there was no plot. Every dialogue these two had, their flashbacks and their acting (eyes, facial gestures, touches) showed why Fighter liked teasing Tor, why he dated Hwa but never paid her attention, why we had the beach scenes, why the break up escalated, why Tutor gave in when ill, why the non/dubious consent scene happened, why they get back together and why they told each other I love you forever immediately after they got together. Every single part adds up. It really is insane to me how people don’t see their real story to this day or see them as such a great storyline for BL. I would never get it.

#fightertutor #saintzee #fighter x tutor #thai bl #bl series #bl drama #fvete #march #wrpup #asks #why r u

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kookie-doughs · 3 years

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Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 6: WE HAVE BATHROOM INCIDENT

We passed the volleyball pit. Several of the campers nudged each other. One pointed to the minotaur horn Percy was carrying. Another said, "That's him."

Anxious if all the attention, I scooted closer to Percy holding onto his arm. Most of the campers were older than us. Their satyr friends were bigger than Grover, all of them trotting around in orange CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirts, with nothing else to cover their bare shaggy hindquarters. The way they stared at me made me uncomfortable. Though I am aware the attention was on Percy. I still felt like they were expecting me to do a flip or something.

I looked back at the farmhouse. It was a lot bigger than I'd realized—four stories tall, sky blue with white trim, like an upscale seaside resort. I was checking out the brass eagle weather vane on top when something caught my eye, a shadow in the uppermost window of the attic gable. Something had moved the curtain, just for a second, and I got the distinct impression I was being watched.

"What's up there?" Percy asked Chiron.

He looked where I was pointing, and his smile faded. "Just the attic."

"Somebody lives there?"

"No," he said with finality. "Not a single living thing."

I got the feeling he was being truthful. But I was also sure something had moved that curtain.

"Come along, you two," Chiron said, his lighthearted tone now a little forced. "Lots to see."

We walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.. . . . . . . . . .

Chiron told me the camp grew a nice crop for export to New York restaurants and Mount Olympus. "It pays our expenses," he explained. "And the strawberries take almost no effort."

He said Mr. D had this effect on fruit-bearing plants: they just went crazy when he was around. It worked best with wine grapes, but Mr. D was restricted from growing those, so they grew strawberries instead.

I watched the satyr playing his pipe. His music was causing lines of bugs to leave the strawberry patch in every direction, like refugees fleeing a fire. I wondered if Grover could work that kind of magic with music. I wondered if he was still inside the farmhouse, getting chewed out by Mr. D.

"Grover won't get in too much trouble, will he?" I asked Chiron.

"Yeah, I mean... he was a good protector. Really." Percy added.

Chiron sighed. He shed his tweed jacket and draped it over his horses back like a saddle. "Grover has big dreams, Percy. Perhaps bigger than are reasonable. To reach his goal, he must first demonstrate great courage by succeeding as a keeper, finding a new camper and bringing him safely to Half-Blood Hill."

"But he did that! He brought two!"

"I might agree with you," Chiron said. "But it is not my place to judge. Dionysus and the Council of Cloven Elders must decide. I'm afraid they might not see this assignment as a success. After all, Grover lost you in New York. Then there's the unfortunate... ah... fate of your mother and Y/N's parents. And the fact that Grover was unconscious when you two dragged him over the property line. The council might question whether this shows any courage on Grover's part."

"He'll get a second chance, won't he?"

Chiron winced. "I'm afraid that was Grover's second chance, Percy. The council was not anxious to give him another, either, after what happened the first time, five years ago. Olympus knows, I advised him to wait longer before trying again. He's still so small for his age... ."

"How old is he?"

"Oh, twenty-eight."

"What! And he's in sixth grade?"

"Satyrs mature half as fast as humans, Percy. Grover has been the equivalent of a middle school student for the past six years."

"That's horrible."

"Quite," Chiron agreed. "At any rate, Grover is a late bloomer, even by satyr standards, and not yet very accomplished at woodland magic. Alas, he was anxious to pursue his dream. Perhaps now he will find some other career... ."

"That's not fair," I said. "What happened the first time? Was it really so bad?"

Chiron looked away quickly. "Let's move along, shall we?"

But I wasn't quite ready to let the subject drop. Something had occurred to me when Chiron talked about Percy's and I's parents' fate, as if he were intentionally avoiding the word death.

"Chiron," Percy said. "If the gods and Olympus and all that are real..."

"Yes, child?"

"Does that mean the Underworld is real, too?"

Chiron's expression darkened.

"Yes, child." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. "There is a place where spirits go after death. But for now... until we know more... I would urge you to put that out of your mind."

"What do you mean, 'until we know more'?"

"Come, Percy. Let's see the woods.". . ..

As we got closer, I realized how huge the forest was. It took up at least a quarter of the valley, with trees so tall and thick, you could imagine nobody had been in there since the Native Americans.

Chiron said, "The woods are stocked, if you care to try your luck, but go armed."

"Stocked with what?" Percy asked. "Armed with what?"

"You'll see. Capture the flag is Friday night. Do you have your own sword and shield?"

"My own—?"

"No," Chiron said. "I don't suppose either of you do. I think a size five will do you both. I'll visit the armory later."

I wanted to ask what kind of summer camp had an armory, but there was too much else to think about, so the tour continued. We saw the archery range, the canoeing lake, the stables (which Chiron didn't seem to like very much), the javelin range, the sing-along amphitheater, and the arena where Chiron said they held sword and spear fights.

"Sword and spear fights?" I asked.

"Cabin challenges and all that," he explained. "Not lethal. Usually. Oh, yes, and there's the mess hall."

Chiron pointed to an outdoor pavilion framed in white Grecian columns on a hill overlooking the sea. There were a dozen stone picnic tables. No roof. No walls.

"What do you do when it rains?" Percy asked.

Chiron looked at me as if I'd gone a little weird. "We still have to eat, don't we?"

Finally, he showed me the cabins. There were twelve of them, nestled in the woods by the lake. They were arranged in a U, with two at the base and five in a row on either side. And they were without doubt the most bizarre collection of buildings I'd ever seen.

Except for the fact that each had a large brass number above the door (odds on the left side, evens on the right), they looked absolutely nothing alike. Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number four had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass. Seven seemed to be made of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight it was almost impossible to look at. They all faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops (which were more my speed).

In the center of the field was a huge stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the hearth smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick.

The pair of cabins at the head of the field, numbers one and two, looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front. Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles lightning bolts seemed to streak across them. Cabin two was more graceful somehow, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.

"Zeus and Hera?" I guessed.

"Correct," Chiron said.

"Their cabins look empty."

"Several of the cabins are. That's true. No one ever stays in one or two."

Okay. So each cabin had a different god, like a mascot. Twelve cabins for the twelve Olympians. But why would some be empty?

I stopped when Percy stopped.

"Percy?"

He stood in front of the first cabin on the left, cabin three.

It wasn't high and mighty like cabin one, but long and low and solid. The outer walls were of rough gray stone studded with pieces of seashell and coral, as if the slabs had been hewn straight from the bottom of the ocean floor.

I held his hand and we got closer to the cabin. We peeked inside the open doorway and Chiron said, "Oh, I wouldn't do that!"

Before he could pull us back, I caught a glimpse of the interior walls glowed like abalone. There were six empty bunk beds with silk sheets turned down. But there was no sign anyone had ever slept there. "Come along, you two."

Most of the other cabins were crowded with campers.

Number five was bright red—a real nasty paint job, as if the color had been splashed on with buckets and fists. The roof was lined with barbed wire. A stuffed wild boar's head hung over the doorway, and its eyes seemed to follow me. Inside I could see a bunch of mean-looking kids, both girls and boys, arm wrestling and arguing with each other while rock music blared. The loudest was a girl maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore a size XXXL CAMP HALF-BLOOD T-shirt under a camouflage jacket. She zeroed in on me and gave me an evil sneer. She reminded me of Nancy Bobofit, though the camper girl was much bigger and tougher looking, and her hair was long and stringy, and brown instead of red.

I kept walking, trying to stay as close as I could to Percy. "We haven't seen any other centaurs," Percy observed.

"No," said Chiron sadly. "My kinsmen are a wild and barbaric folk, I'm afraid. You might encounter them in the wilderness, or at major sporting events. But you won't see any here."

"You said your name was Chiron. Are you really..."

He smiled down at me. "The Chiron from the stories? Trainer of Hercules and all that? Yes, Percy, I am."

"But, shouldn't you be dead?"

Chiron paused, as if the question intrigued him. "I honestly don't know about should be. The truth is, I can't be dead. You see, eons ago the gods granted my wish. I could continue the work I loved. I could be a teacher of heroes as long as humanity needed me. I gained much from that wish... and I gave up much. But I'm still here, so I can only assume I'm still needed."

I thought about being a teacher for three thousand years. It wouldn't have made my Top Ten Things to Wish For list.

"Doesn't it ever get boring?"

"No, no," he said. "Horribly depressing, at times, but never boring."

"Why depressing?"

Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing again.

"Oh, look," he said. "Annabeth is waiting for us."

* * *

The blond girl I'd met at the Big House was reading a book in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

When we reached her, she looked us critically.

I tried to see what she was reading, but I couldn't make out the title. I thought my dyslexia was acting up. Then I realized the title wasn't even English. The letters looked Greek to me. I mean, literally Greek. There were pictures of temples and statues and different kinds of columns, like those in an architecture book.

"Annabeth," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy and Y/N from here?"

"Yes, sir."

"Cabin eleven," Chiron told me, gesturing toward the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was one of those doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. What did they call it... ? A caduceus.

Inside, it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over on the floor. It looked like a gym where the Red Cross had set up an evacuation center.

Chiron didn't go in. The door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy, Y/N. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away toward the archery range.

I stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing anymore. They were staring at us. I knew this routine. I'd gone through it at enough schools.

"Well?" Annabeth prompted. "Go on."

So naturally Percy tripped coming in the door and made a total fool of himself, almost taking me with him but I had let go of him as he fell. There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything.

Annabeth announced, "Percy Jackson, Y/N L/N, meet cabin eleven."

"Regular or undetermined?" somebody familiar asked.

I didn't know what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."

Everybody groaned.

"Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy and Y/N. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there. Y/N can have the bed over there."

"Luke." I smiled. He replied with a grin and ruffled my hair.

"Uh?"

"This is Luke," Annabeth said, and her voice sounded different somehow. I glanced over and could've sworn she was blushing. She saw me looking, and her expression hardened again. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?" Percy asked.

"You're undetermined," Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

I looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given Percy. He was a few spots away from mine.

I looked around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing me as if they were waiting for a chance to pick my pockets.

"How long will we be here?" Percy asked.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

The campers all laughed.

"Come on," Annabeth told us. "I'll show you the volleyball court."

"I've already seen it."

"Come on." She grabbed Percy's wrist and dragged him outside. Percy took my hand to come with him, I could hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind us.

"See you at dinner." Luke waved.

When we were a few feet away, Annabeth said, "Jackson, you have to do better than that."

"What?"

She rolled her eyes and mumbled under her breath, "I can't believe I thought you were the one. Maybe it was Y/N."

"What's your problem?" Percy was getting angry now. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy—"

I gripped his shoulder trying to calm him.

"Don't talk like that!" Annabeth told me. "You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?"

"To get killed?"

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Hahah typo and originality go brrr

Taglist?

@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000

#Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson X Reader #Percy Jackson X Y/N #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #Y/N L/N #Y/N L/N and the halfbloods #X Reader #Book 1 #Lightning thief #luke castellan #Luke castellan x reader #Chapter 6 #Fanfiction #fanfictions

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natsugia · 3 years

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Sneak Previews

I know, I know. I said that the next chapters to The Weight We Carry Is Love (TWWCIL) and Of Soul And Spirit (OSAS) would be up like two months ago, but I'm sadly, I'm still working on them. Writing has been a little bit slow lately, but we're getting there. Hoping to post the next chapters really soon.

For now though, I thought I'd at least give a sneak preview for each chapter, since you guys have been so amazingly sweet and patient, absolute saint-like. Hope this can tide you over until I'm finally able to post.

TWWCIL Chapter 4 Excerpt

“Hey you!” They both turned in response to the shout to find a short Korean girl wearing pigtails and glasses, lips downturned in a frown, rapidly marching up to them.

Jess eyed the girl appreciatively at first -- finally someone that breaks the mold -- until seeing the “Jesus is my homeboy” t-shirt. He quietly groaned. One of them. Wonderful. Just what he needed.

Luke let out a similar groan and opened his mouth to speak, but the girl just plowed right through to Jess, a finger pointed at his chest.

“Listen here you opportunistic, devious, sex-addicted fiend!” yelled the girl as she jabbed him repeatedly in the chest.

Jess’ eyebrows rose sharply. He’d been called a lot of things in his life, even some of these words in a different context over the years, but considering he’d barely been in this town for a day, he had to say he was surprised by the accusation. He hadn’t even had time to do anything devious or fiendish, and where the hell did sex-addicted come from? He made out with Rory once - ONCE - less than twelve hours ago. Surely that’s not enough to ascribe him that label.

He glanced back down at her shirt again and reconsidered.

“Excuse me?” he finally asked her, a bit of annoyance bleeding through his tone. He glanced at Luke, but his uncle only shook his head and sighed in exasperation. Gee, thanks for the help, Uncle Luke.

The girl growled as he leaned out of reach from her finger before squaring her shoulders and placing her hands on her hips. “Where the hell do you get off putting your hands all over Rory like that?” she questioned. She was shorter than him by a few inches, but she easily stood her ground, eyes boring into his with indignation and suspicion.

He frowned. So this was about Rory? Word sure travelled fast. Also, what was wrong with kissing the girl you’ve liked for months? First Lorelai. Then that total circus act at the diner. And now this girl. He did not understand this town. “What?” he asked again in a sharper tone.

The girl again plowed through his confusion. “First off, she already has a boyfriend--”

He might have smiled at that. Sure, he may have dreamt about him and Rory together for months, but he never really thought it would happen. It was a pipe dream. And then he moved in with his uncle who just so happened to live in the same town as her. Which meant he got to live in the same town as her. If he actually did drugs, he would check the quality of his stash right about now.

“--One she’s absolutely crazy about--”

He sure hoped so. Otherwise moving out here would just be another cruel twist of fate in the life of Jess Mariano.

“And even though his dislike for Sting is questionable, he’s perfect for her--”

“Right,” he said slowly as pieces clicked in his mind. Only two people knew how much he hated the British rockstar. He took another assessment of the girl in front of him. Korean, fiery, protective of Rory, and now that he was paying attention, her voice was familiar. This girl could only be one person. His lips widened into a smirk. This would be entertaining.

“--And while he lives in New York, and you look like Stallone’s younger hotter brother--”

“Thank you.”

“--that doesn’t give you the right to put any of your greasy paws all over my best friend. She’s not like that. She’s amazing and brilliant and she’s going to Harvard--”

His smirk turned warmer. “I know.”

“--So don’t even think about messing that up for her since you’re obviously headed to working 80 hours a week in a sweaty garage--”

He nodded once. “Got it.”

“--And I don’t care if you’re Luke’s nephew or where you come from, but if you touch her again, you’re gonna find yourself fending off broken bones from a giant cricket bat! My mother taught me how to swing one.” She shook a fist at him.

He bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. “Noted. You done?”

She squinted at him. “For now. But I’m watching you. That Metallica shirt barely gets you any points.”

“Ah, but it does get me some points?”

“NO!” she yelled in his face. He grinned.

“It’s just they’re a great band,” she amended with a haughty air before she turned her head and muttered, “And the shirt might match your eyes.”

“Huh.” He turned to Luke. “Imagine that.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Ignoring that.”

"But," Lane interjected with a stern look, "any very miniscule points you may have earned were wiped out by your inability to keep your hands to yourself. And not just wiped out, but negatively netted. You're in the red with me."

"Uh huh. And if Rory asked for the hands?"

Her finger was back in his face. "You!!!" she yelled, outraged.

Luke stepped in between with his palms up. "Okay. Knock it off." He pointed to Lane, who was still glaring at Jess. “If you couldn’t guess, that’s Rory’s best friend, Lane. Lane, this is my nephew Jess.”

Jess watched in amusement as Lane's eyes grew wide as saucers and her jaw dropped, the anger completely disappearing from her face. “Jess?!” she finally squeaked. “As in Rory’s Jess?”

“In the flesh.”

“You’re Luke’s nephew?”

Luke narrowed his eyes at Lane. “You knew about them?”

Lane pointed to herself. “Best friend.”

Luke gave her a pointed look. “Right.”

Jess shrugged. “World’s too small.”

She absently nodded. “No kidding. This is what you look like?” she asked as she scanned him head to toe, surprise still etched in the corners of her mouth.

“Yes?” he drawled out hesitantly. He quickly glanced down at his shirt, jeans, and Vans. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

She blinked rapidly, as if to clear her vision before shaking her head. “So trippy. This has got to be like fate or something.”

He tilted his head in agreement. “The universe works in mysterious ways.”

Slowly a smile worked onto her face as Lane realized just exactly who her best friend was kissing last night. “That she does.”

OSAS Chapter 8 Excerpt

“You!!!” Her shout danced off tables and floors, and how she wished a hole would swallow her now that everyone in the room was staring at her.

Including the guy from the bodega earlier, the book hanging loose in his hand.

Including the Boss, whose eyes felt cold and empty as they locked on hers.

“There a problem?” Bennelli asked in a measured tone.

Her mouth dried up under his gaze. “How are -- this is -- he didn’t--” she stumbled over her words, tongue rough against the roof of her mouth as she stood too in shock over her gaffe, over this mysterious person’s presence at the meeting to truly speak.

Johnny stood slightly behind Bennelli, a wry half-grin on his face. She did not want to know what that meant. Interrupting the Boss as he was speaking couldn’t possibly lead to something good.

She swallowed hastily, the lump barely making its way past her constricted throat.

Bennelli gave her another once over before switching his gaze to the young Italian with the book.

“Jess, you know her?”

Jess. His name was Jess. She had no clue why her brain filed away the information. Probably because of the book.

Definitely because of the book.

Jess shrugged and gestured to her with the novel in his hand. “We bumped into each other while shopping today. She threatened me with a pair of packaged scissors.”

Rory internally groaned as a few chuckles scattered throughout the room. She needed all the cool points she could muster at this point, and that confession was not helping.

“Should have taken them out of the plastic,” she heard Nick mutter as he tightened his grip around the blonde’s neck. “Would have done more damage.”

Angelo next to him just shook his head with a sigh. “Wasted opportunity.”

There was a hint of jibe at Angelo’s words, a mock at the relayed event, but she couldn’t tell if it was directed at her. She turned back to Jess with a sharpened gaze, and that smirk on his face said it all. They were making fun of her. She could see the smirks matching with a young Tristan’s at Chilton, matching the tone of voice as he steadfastly called her Mary. She knew that smirk, and she hated it. So, pushing the embarrassment aside, she grabbed hold of her old friends, wit and spite, and said, “Funny you call it shopping when you didn’t even pay for the super glue.”

Shit. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say because now the smile seemed genuine. Rory was definitely not looking.

“That is funny,” she heard him say, traces of the Burroughs lingering after the words trailed off, “since I don’t recall you paying for your gum either.”

Rory felt her jaw drop for a second time. “How did you--”

He lifted his eyebrow as he interjected, leaning toward her slightly, “That was a nice touch with the shelves though.”

Oh god, he thought it was intentional. “That wasn’t--” She bit back her reply quick when she saw the Boss’s eyes slide to hers.

“Shelves?” he asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone.

Shit. She definitely couldn’t say that it was an accident now.

Jess had no problem answering though. “She might have knocked over a few as a distraction.”

“I--” she started again, but the words were stuck in her throat. There was definite interest in Bennelli’s eyes now.

She couldn’t stop the shiver at the back of her neck as he replied, “Is that so?”

#fic previews #sneak peaks #gg fanfic #literati fic #twwcil #osas #natsfics #previews under the cut #i know it's been like a year and a half #but i swear they're both coming #chapter four of twwcil will probably be first #cause I only have two more scenes to finish up with that one before it's done #i don't know about chapter 8 for osas though #fingers crossed i have both of them up by the end of the month #we'll have to see though #most likely it'll just be twwcil #and i'll probably have osas up some time in september

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thorne93 · 3 years

Text

History Repeats (Part 7)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak, adult themes (??)

Word Count: 2968

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nearly another month had passed since the first time Hayden had come over to your house. So far, it was still blissfully amazing. You and Hayden hung out every chance you could steal, playing video games, going to your house to make home cooked meals, playing cards, binging shows. It was just what you needed to help get over Jason, and Hayden felt like the first true best friend you’d had in a very long time. He didn’t judge, he didn’t pressure you, he was completely comfortable running errands with you, chilling, or doing whatever you wanted to do.

Oddly enough, even though both of you shared nearly crippling cases of anxiety, hanging out with him seemed to ease it. You didn’t feel as if you were trapped or stuck when you were with him, as you had with friends in the past. In fact, you looked more forward to being with Hayden than you did for any alone time. His presence in your life had really turned everything from gray to gold.

That’s why, after a later dinner one night, his news sent your world crashing down.

The two of you were strolling along the sidewalk as you took in the weather that had finally started to get warmer. You had a lightweight jacket on, jeans, and a lightweight long sleeved shirt, feeling extra comfy, trying to ignore how Hayden looked beside you. He was wearing a clothing brand he’d designed himself and it looked dashing on him. Tonight he had the audacity to wear blue jeans, dark casual shoes, a black long sleeved shirt, and a long, light weight black jacket, military style. Just the sight of him made you crazy with desire, but these feelings had stayed locked up in your head for quite some time now.

For you, it was no secret that you felt strongly for Hayden. You knew you loved being around him, you loved seeing him every day, you loved his laugh, the way he joked, the way he described things he was passionate about. He lifted your spirits and dried your tears, sometimes literally. He brightened your days, and calmed your nights.

But part of you wondered, if you really liked him as a love interest or just a friend. The problem was you couldn’t tell. Was he just a rebound from Jason? Was he just attractive to you because he was there when your life felt like it was falling apart? Did you just like Hayden because he was more attentative than your boyfriends and best friends of the past?

Or was this how a best friend should feel? Should it be this free, easy, and relaxed? Should it feel this sweet? Should you feel this elated when you saw his smiling face?

So, your attraction to him felt confusing, perplexing. Of course, he was handsome, sweet, kind, patient, hilarious, mysterious, peculiar, talented. So that made you attracted to him, romantically, no doubt. You often dreamed of being with him, day dreaming of grabbing his hand on one of your many strolls, just leaning over and placing a soft kiss to his decadent lips after a video game match, holding him at night after a long day.

On the other hand, you felt like he was the best friend you’d ever had, happy to just be near him, relax and play together, make jokes and tease each other. He was great to just have as someone to call on when you needed a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on. In those instances, he didn’t feel like anything more…

So here you were, stuck, not sure if you wanted him romantically, and if you did, was it worth risking the friendship?

“I’m so happy I have the day off tomorrow,” you noted honestly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, this past week has been so shitty. How about you? How’s the shooting going?”

“Good...Uh, but...I’ll probably be looking for some place to go,” Hayden said, uneasiness lacing in his silken voice.

“Oh? Like a store or…?”

“Like...A new hotel,” he tried, his voice tense as if waiting for you to erupt on him.

Immediately, your blood ran cold and your mind whirled. Hayden...wanted...to...leave? You said in your mind, slowly, trying to comprehend this. You were just now figuring out you needed to sort out these feelings for him, he couldn’t leave. You needed him. He was your rock. He was the one thing that kept you smiling throughout the day.

Regardless of if you were possibly in love with him or not, or whatever was going on in your head, he was your best friend, and you needed him. If he looked for another hotel, he could be on the other side of the city and you’d never see him. Him being at your hotel was half the reason you two could hang out.

You stopped walking.

“What? Why?” you breathed out, sounding more shocked and curious, instead of showing the evidence of the internal catastrophe that was occuring.

He shrugged as he turned to you, his hands in his pockets as he spoke. “I don’t know. It’s just getting a little too expensive for day to day work. I need to find someplace a little further out maybe, less amenities, a little lower nightly rate. It’s nothing against you or the hotel or anything--” he said, trying to assure you that it wasn’t personal.

You waved him off, frowning deeply, and shaking your head. “I don't care about the hotel. I care about you. What am I gonna do without you?” you asked and it surprisingly came out sounding playful. But in your head and heart, the feeling was much more gut wrenching.

He laughed. “Y/N, I’ll be in the same city. It’s no big deal. We can still hang out,” he assured, nudging you with his arm.

You shook your head. “No, it won’t be the same. We’ll only do a it a couple of times and then...never,” you said sadly. Then a brilliant idea flickered in your head. “Hey, what if...what if you roomed with me?” you asked and Hayden frowned a tad bit.

“Move in with you?” he asked, curious, his blue eyes boring into yours, and it took everything in you not to touch him.

“Not like that,” you assured quickly. “But, ever since Jason moved out, it’s been a little lonely and I wouldn’t mind the extra income again to help with payments. You would pay half what you do now at the hotel.”

“That’s enticing,” he admitted with a laugh that filled you with warmth.

“Come on,” you urged. “It’s a win-win. I don’t struggle with rent for a few months while you’re here, you have a real home to go to, with more space. You can cook your own meals, have space in the fridge and pantry. It’ll be like airbnb, or quick roommate agreement. I have a spare bedroom, I have enough space, I need the money. You need to save money…” you tried, giving him your best inviting-begging look.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he said, tilting his head side to side and rubbing his neck.

“What do you have to lose? An expensive hotel room. But what you gain is priceless. A decent bed. A fantastic roommate,” you said, nudging him with an eyebrow wiggle. “Amazing meals…Endless Netflix on a huge TV…”

“I don’t want to be a burden or in the way or anything though,” he said, showing some hesitancy.

“You won’t be, I swear,” you vowed. “It’ll be great. You have your own bathroom, access to everything. What’s mine is yours. We can share dinners, lunches, whatever. The TV, the Netflix, whatever you need, you got it--”

He smiled and rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. I give up. You win. Anything to make you stop,” he said.

You squealed lightly and threw your arms around him. “Thank you! It’s gonna be so much fun having you there!”

“Don’t speak too soon. I may be a slob, or a weirdo, or a lazy ass,” he commented.

“Uh, we both can’t be those things,” you countered, scoffing. “Only room for one lazy person at my house, and I’ve already claimed it,” you said proudly as you beamed.

He threw his head back laughing as he tossed his arm around your shoulders. “When would you like me to move in?”

“Whenever you’re comfortable. I don’t work tomorrow, so that might be ideal, seeing as I’d be there to let you in and show you stuff and I wouldn’t have to race off to work.”

“Sounds like a plan. In that case, I need to get back to the hotel and start packing so I can check out in the morning.”

Giddy from this new plan, you nodded and responded, “Perfect. I’ll drop you off and get the extra bedroom set up for your arrival.”

“Ever the manager, huh?” he teased.

“You can’t turn perfection off, Hayden,” you retorted before the two of you began laughing some more.

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

That night, you got Hayden back to the hotel then you yourself went home. You cleaned up the main parts of the house a little better so he didn’t immediately see a shamble of a home and turn around and nope-the-fuck out. Once it was all picked up, you went to bed and decided to finish the rest in the morning.

You hopped out of bed, got another load of dishes going in the dishwasher, then went to the guest room and cleared it from all evidence of the absence that had settled on it. You cleaned the cobwebs and dust away from the ceiling, the ceiling fan and light, the nightstand and the dresser. Then you pulled the old sheets and threw them in the laundry and pulled out fresh ones and dressed the bed and Febreezed it to get the smell of stale linen washed from it.

Once that was done, you vacuum the room and lit a nice, light candle in the room, marking the room done mentally, you moved on to the bathroom that adjoined the bedroom. It had collected some dust as well. You wiped down the fixtures, mirror, toilet, and shower, giving them all fresh, clean, sparkling looks. Finally, you mopped the small room and it was complete.

You had no idea when Hayden would arrive, you assumed some time after lunch since check out was 11:00 and he’d probably stop for lunch somewhere. So you decided to light some more candles to get a fresh scent going through the house. After that, you were...well, stuck. You had no idea what to do and your anxiety started to rise.

What if he didn’t like it? What if he didn’t like living with you? What if he felt strong armed, and he changed his mind and never talked to you again? What if he had a weird habit you couldn’t live with? What if living together made you get on each others nerves? What if he wasn’t any help around the house? What if he didn’t pay you?

The questions swirled and buzzed your head until you started to slightly panic. After a moment or two, you asked yourself what you would do if you were at work and a situation like this arose? Well, first, he is a roommate, there should be a written agreement. You trusted Hayden. You didn’t think he’d fuck you over money wise or anything else, but for your own peace of mind you wanted it.

You sat down at your computer and started to draw up a little informal contract. Having his name listed, and spots to fill in the dates he moved in, how much he would pay, when, and method of payment. You listed things that were included with his rent such as utilities, and a certain amount on groceries, if they exceeded that, he’d have to foot the bill. Rules for eating out, rules for bathroom and TV usage.

You wanted to make sure anything weird was covered but you didn’t want it to be so long he didn’t want to read itl. You hit all the main points of a roommate: pay, rules for taking care of the house, and places for him to initial, and for both of your signatures.

Once it was done, you got a knock at the door.

Your heart skipped a beat and you jumped up from your couch, jogging to the door to open it to Hayden.

“Hey! You made it, come on in,” you said, moving aside.

He came in, towing two suitcases and an over the shoulder bag.

“Do you have more?”

“Yeah, out in the car,” he said, thrusting his chin towards the outside while he sat his bags on the floor. You started to make your way out when he called after you. “No, no, you don’t have to go get them. It’s fine.”

“It’s no trouble,” you assured over your shoulder as you went to the trunk and pulled out two more suitcases, a smaller bag, and shut the trunk. You wheeled the bags inside and closed the door. “See? I’m capable of some things,” you teased with a beaming smile.

“Clearly. Now, where would you like me to put all my junk?” he inquired with a star-studded smile.

“Uh, uh…” you stuttered as you stared at him. Why did he suddenly look so much more handsome? “Uh, right through here,” you said, shaking your head and raising your arm to gesture to the guest bedroom.

“Cool.”

The two of you picked up all the luggage and hauled it into the bedroom.

“So here’s your room, obviously, over here is your bathroom,” you informed as you walked over and flicked on the light. “I’ve got towels and stuff in here but if you need more, they’re in the little linen closet in the hall.”

“Oh, very cool, thank you.”

“Is this okay?” you asked, nervous that it’s way below what he’s used to.

“Of course,” he assured, no trace of hesitance in his voice. “I love it,” he said, eyeing the room.

“Well thanks. Oh, if you don’t mind, I sort of wrote up a contract, if you want to take a look now? I just figured we get all the unpleasantness out of the way,” you tried, wringing your hands.

“Contract? Sounds pretty formal.”

You nodded your head side to side. “Eh. it is. I just like to have it on record and stuff just...everything. Ya know? I trust you, it’s just I want to make sure there aren’t confusions or questions about anything as long as you're staying here.”

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s cool. I don’t mind following rules and getting this in writing,” he assured with a smile and soft voice.

“Oh, great. Awesome. I’ll just go print it and we can look it over,” you said as you went back to your laptop, printed it, and then you two went over everything at your little dining room table.

It only took thirty minutes and you two had zipped through all the clauses and addendums. He’d signed and dated everything with that adorable smile he always wore. You went over what he liked to eat and didn’t like, allergies, and everything so you could appropriately shop for him. You two agreed to eat together, to save money and time, if it was possible, but for obvious reasons if one of you was at work, you would have groceries for individual meals.

After that, he confided that he hadn’t eaten lunch yet, so you rummaged something up together, having a blast, blaring music, teasing each other’s cooking skills. When it was done, you fell into your normal routine of television with lunch, accidentally binging a whole season of a show before either you realized what had happened.

In fact, you’d gotten so into the show, that the two of you had scooted close together on the couch over the course of the day and his arm was thrown behind you on the overstuffed couch, resting on top of the large cushion behind your head.

When you two noticed it was going into the other season, Hayden got up and stretched.

“Well, I think I’m gonna go ahead and settle in, maybe do a load of laundry if that’s cool,” he said.

“Sure thing,” you answered, standing up as well, grabbing the plates. “I’ll just clean up a bit and get my stuff out of the dryer and you can use it.”

“Cool. Thanks again for this. You’re saving me a ton of money and headache,” he said with a warm, friendly smile that made you feel a lot more than friendly towards him.

How did he do this? How did he go from a fun, friendly face to being irresistible overnight? When did he blur the line of confidant to desirable lover? Did he do it on purpose? Did he mean to? Was he just being himself and getting closer to you? Was he trying to make it known he had feelings for you? Was it one sided?

So far he hadn’t exactly flirted with you, but Hayden didn’t seem the type to flirt. He was about as outgoing as you were, which wasn’t saying much. When it came to romance you were a rather trepid being. You weren’t typically the first one to strike, or if you were, you weren’t overtly strong about it. So why would he be any different?

Maybe he was trying to capture your attention in his own way, or maybe he didn’t feel that way at all towards you. At this point, you weren’t sure, but you were tipping more and more towards liking him romantically with each passing day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#history repeats #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen fic #hayden christensen

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enby-hawke · 3 years

Text

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Category:F/M

TW: Graphic depictions of violence, exploration of race and class dynamics, eventual smut

So here it is after 3 years of talking about it and then trying to turn it into a comic, I’m kicking it out because it doesn’t pay rent and I have other stories to tell. Here it is. Hope you enjoy.

----

“I still do not understand what taste is,” the spirit somehow huffed. Malcolm knew it was a mistake to respond at all. The red specter hovered on the edge of Malcolm’s bed, it’s angry red glow a contrast to the murky green that the Fade was hazed in. It had somehow got in again, into the sanctum where he allowed his mind to rest as he guarded the dreamers of Kirkwall. Malcolm could have made his sanctum look like anything, but he didn’t bother giving himself the illusion he was anywhere else but his Circle cell. The thin sandpaper sheets did nothing to soften the metal bed underneath him. The cell had barely enough room for his dresser and desk that he used to do his studies, which he spent more time doodling on than learning. Even here he could still smell the faint aroma of the toilet that was next to his bed. Still, as unpleasant as his sanctum was, he needed a strong sensation to anchor his body, especially if he was going to battle a demon tonight.

Malcolm took in a stale breath, held it for 4 seconds, and gently let it go. It was important that no matter what happened, he remained calm.

The shimmering of the phantom became more urgent, more vibrant. Malcolm continued to ignore it, even turning his head and body away to make a point, but it didn’t seem to stop the creature from trying to dart into view, insistent on having his question answered. After the third turn of his head, the demon reached and gave one of Malcolm’s pointy ears a firm yank, screaming, “Can you hear me?”

On instinct, Malcolm swiped at the demon with a crackling fist, but the demon darted away. The sparks in Malcolm’s hand arced wildly as he leveled it at his target. “Fuck off, demon. I told you, one question.”

The wraith started to warp along with the Fade as anger emanated from Malcolm’s body. Claws started sprouting from it’s fingers and through it’s translucent skin, he could see it’s teeth starting to jut out at odd angles, but the demon made no move to fight him. “Were you listening? I am not a demon. I’m a scholar. And you are the first somniari I have come across in ages.”

The demon kept it’s distance but became more animated, gesturing with it’s gangly arms. “The last somniari only survived long enough to tell me about eating, but though I’ve tried it, the phenomenon remains perplexing.” Malcolm jumped as the demon inched closer. “Sometimes eating brings joy. Sometimes eating brings sorrow. Sometimes eating brings no emotion at all.” Quivering in curiosity, the demon then sprung forward so close to Malcolm could easily punch it. “Why somniari?”

The sparks in Malcolm’s hands died down as his eyes glazed over, caught in a memory. He saw his mother, with dark freckled brown skin, and beautiful curly hair that cascaded down her back, but her face was blurred as he failed to recall the details. Still, he remembered the smell of the plate of piping hot pancet that she placed in front of him, how the steam coming off of the unending noodles made his mouth water. She brushed his mop of curls from his eyes and kissed his forehead with a warm smile. “Happy birthday, Malcolm.”

The creature sniffed at his head as if he was about to take a huge bite. “Oh, what is that? That smells delicious!”

Malcolm swatted at the spirit as if it was an annoying fly. “Stay out of my head!”

But the spirit had already plucked the memory out of his head and dashed away a safe distance from the room. It wiggled in delight of it’s prize, and in it’s hands it materialized into a bowl of pancet. Malcolm felt a sick twist of envy as the spirit grabbed a handful of long fried noodles and shoved it into it’s mouthless face, slurping it down with wet smacking noises. “This,” sluuuurp, “memory tastes both,“ sluuuurp, “happy and sad, though the sadness is fresher.”

Malcolm, quaking in anger, rose to his feet, summoning threatening flames so high, they licked the ceiling. “Were you not warned of who I am?”

The spirit continued to eat in bliss, Malcolm’s threat no more than an annoyance. “The wisps call you,” sluurp, “Spirit Slayer.”

Malcolm raised a thick eyebrow, wondering why this spirit had no sense of self preservation. Or was this demon stronger than he thought? “So why do you risk pestering me?”

At this, the demon lowered the bowl, a mess of sauce dripping down it’s face. “Because only you can answer.”

The demon looked sadly at it’s last noodle and picked it up between it’s claws. “I, too, have lost much, somniari. I had a name once. I’ve given up trying to find it.”

“I’ve asked every stone, every wisp, but so much was lost after The Sundering. What I am, is what I have left.” The demon turned to Malcolm and though it had no eyes, he could feel it looking through him with earnest that he could feel thrumming in his heart. “So if this quest is my end, so be it.” Then it ate the noodle, looking oddly like a worm being sucked through a hole.

The flames died in Malcolm’s hands, his anger deflating with plumes of smoke. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt me to spare a moment.”

The words had barely left Malcolm’s mouth before his pocket started to buzz with a generic ringtone, that vibrated the air of the Fade like a tinging glass. The spirit cocked his head, confused as Malcolm dug through his pajama pockets and fished it out. “Sorry, demon, duty calls.”

“Scholar,” the spirit corrected, but Malcolm shushed him as he put it to his ear.

A terrified voice began sobbing through the speaker. “Help! Somebody help!”

Malcolm didn’t recognize the voice, so they weren’t one of the Circle mages being plagued for a meal. An apostate perhaps?

“Hello? It’s going to be alright,” Malcolm began like he always did. He raised his free hand to feel the cords of the Fade that were weaving together, trying to connect to the dreamer who rang his phone. The air around his hands shimmered like sparkling dust, faint harp-like threads connecting from the tips of his fingers.

“Hello?” the voice answered back, full of confusion. “Who is this?”

“That doesn’t matter. Can you tell me where you are?” He stepped off his bed and towards his bedroom door.

“Where I am?” the voice repeated, slick with tears. “I’m…I don’t know.”

He could feel that she was panicked, confused, disoriented, and that there was a dark aura surrounding her, stronger than he had felt in awhile. Malcolm had been sure that he had cleansed this area of the Fade of demons, but this just meant that more would come in to feed on the remnants. Malcolm closed his eyes, reaching through the phone to try to peek at her dream. “Yes, you do,” his soothing voice taking a commanding tone. “Just open your eyes and describe what you see.”

He heard her gasping for air as she struggled to breathe but eventually she sputtered out. “I’m in my bedroom. It’s filling up with water, fast. You have to hurry.”

He put his hand on the door. Through the darkness of his eyelids he began to see light, and the running rush of water filled his ears. “Describe your room to me.”

“What would it matter!?”

“It matters if I’m going to find you.”

A beat of silence registered on the phone, before she continued. “Well, it’s a room…with a closet and a bed.”

“Helpful,” Malcolm snorted before he could stop himself. Still, a misty silhouette of a closet, which was more like it’s own room, and a grand bed with a flowing cloth canopy started to form. There was a body tucked within it, nestled on a throne of pillows.

“Well I’m in a state of panic right now! Can you blame me? My clothes are getting ruined. It’ll cost a fortune to redo these carpets, not to mention-”

Malcolm sighed, trying to press on as she chattered. It never did any good to argue, but this monologue wasn’t helping. “What color are your blankets?”

“Cream…embroidered with gold thread.” The vision in his mind began to fill in with color.

“And the pattern of the embroidery?”

“Really?”

“Messere,” Malcolm gritted his teeth. “It’s important you stay calm. The more you panic the faster the water will flood.” It wasn’t a lie, but he also needed her to hurry.

She relented with a sigh, and said, “a gold-leaf rose spread.”

It took a little more coaxing, but eventually Malcolm got her to describe her wallpapers, floral and pink, and her carpet, which she insisted before the flood was a beautiful white color. She also described a bookcase, her lute, and a vanity mirror where she would get ready for the day each morning, a family heirloom, made from wood of the grove of the Emerald Graves, with brass knob handles and the symbol of her family’s crest that was carved into the wood, that showed either two ravens perched in angular stone columns, or a dragon head, depending on how you looked at it. Soon he could see the room, and could finally solidify the flimsy connection.

He pressed his forehead against the bedroom door, eyes still closed, the hard metal cold and unforgiving. “Now I need you to walk up to your door and let me in.”

“Are you crazy?” she shouted so loud that Malcolm had to take his ear away from the receiver. “It’s going to let all the water in!”

“No,” Malcolm said calmly. “Because I will be on the other side.”

“You know that makes no sense.”

“You’re talking to a strange voice in your head, your room is flooded, and from my estimate about the cost of that vanity mirror alone, you live somewhere in Hightown. Does any of this make sense?”

This time she whined, which sounded more cute than annoying. “But I’m going to get wet.”

Malcolm burst out in laughter. He had run into a lot of dreamers, but while most were suggestive, she seemed to easily resist the strings connecting them. He could see deep into the pit of her heart that she was as stubborn as he was, which was saying something. It was intriguing really, but before his curiosity could run away with it, his sensible self reminded him that she was in danger. And with how long it took for him to find the location of her dream, the demon had now sensed him coming.

“Look, the door is locked, and only you can open it.”

“Can’t you just break the lock open?”

“Sure,” Malcolm said, “but that door represents the connection of your body to your slumbering mind. If I break it open, it would hurt…a lot.”

Silence filled the air except for the splash of rising water and the slurping noise of Scholar licking the last remnants of sauce from their bowl.

“You promise you’ll be on the other side?”

“Promise.”

She heaved a huge sigh and after a few moments, he could hear the sloshing of water as she started to wade her way through her bedroom, but Malcolm could not only hear it from the speaker, but the other side of the door as well. Malcolm shoved his phone back into his pocket and placed his hand on the doorknob that would normally be electronically locked, but right now, it was just another illusion of the Fade. As the lock clicked open, Malcolm turned the doorknob, blissfully unaware of how his life would change until he met the girl’s black doe eyes.

Read more on A03

#dragon age fic #da fic #hawke #malcolm x leandra #leandra hawke #malcolm hawke #my writing #It's finally here and I'm nervous as hell #I'm going to work on Chapter 3 after I feed my animals #Yes I'm in Chapter 3 #yes I can't stop writing #yes I need to do other things my life is falling apart

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

Note

Story on Norman catching Sammy in Joey cult ?

It's been twice now that I've written Norman's demise. Y'all really like killing people uh?

Summary: Sammy was weird in many ways, but this? This was just crazy.

---

Back when Norman was still a little tot, his great nanna used to tell him and his brothers and sisters about their great poppop. How he'd been raised in some sort of cult that indoctrinated its disciples from birth. She related to them how, even though he'd managed to escape them, their constant drilling of ideals had never truly left him. Which was why nanna had gotten rid of him. Love him as she did, she knew he was a crazy dangerous man. Little five year old Norman had been very curious about those tales his mama begged nanna not to tell them. He especially found it curious when she described his eyes. Having a condition like the one he had, had made him a prime target for neighbourhood bullies that called him "Crazy-Eye". So hearing about someone who had actual insanity behind what most considered to be the windows to the soul... It had given him a sort of relief, because at least there was a spark of life behind his own unsynchronized peepers. "N'aw child, don't yous go be tellin' ya mama 'bout what ol' nanna be tellin' you 'bout ya poppop, ya hear?" "Ok nanna. Won't tell a soul." "Yous is a clever one, boy. An' don't forget ta keep an eye out... Crazy can hide in plain sight. Sure did for poppop." Insanity could hide in plain sight. That was perhaps the most valuable lesson to take from his nanna's tales. What she could never get across was how hard it was to see someone you cared for slowly be afflicted with it.

Sammy was a weird man. Had been from day one of Norman meeting him, and never quite changed even when he put a reign on his deplorable attitude. He wasn't a bad person per say. Misguided by a parent with that typical southern brand of white superiority complex. A man who thought his skin color made him better than all the other folk, and who taught his boy to think it was just as sacred an idea as the damn gospel he also tried to drill into Sammy's head. But Sammy was admittedly clever, and much more curious than his father had been. He asked questions and he tried to change when he realized his own crappy behaviour didn't please him all that much. But then things started getting unsettling in the studio. Little things popped up, and the world's own agenda got in the way of Joey Drew's plans. Turns out Joey wasn't about to fold for anything or anyone. Those who were drafted were the lucky ones. Those who were socially outcasts or liabilities in the military's eyes, were not so lucky. They stayed, so the wrongness affected them. The wrongness... Norman had felt something was not right for a long while, but now that he had to get acquainted with so many new hires and the such? He'd been preoccupied. So when the ones he knew suddenly started acting unlike themselves he'd been caught by surprise. "I don't understand how Mr. Drew has no trouble with him... He's just so..." He'd found Buddy in the bathroom, trying to clean the obvious ink stains on his clothing. "Why did I think helping him would make him less nasty?" "Sammy tends ta blow up at minor things. If it was as bad as yous say it was, then he was just freaked out from nearly drowning." He got as many paper towels as he could to help the poor kid get rid of as much of the ink as he could. "Doesn't excuse what he says to me... Or the other Jewish employees..." Buddy murmured sadly. "What did he say?" "Not important... Just makes me uneasy. It's like I'm specifically not worth anything just because of my... Mr. Polk?" Buddy blinked once the projectionist dropped everything he was doing to stalk out the door. "Yous ain't the first he's gone and played that card on. Was a long while ago but I can refresh Sammy's memory for the folks he's been barkin' at." "Oh! Uh, you don't have to! It's not going to fix anything." "Trust me, a hard knock on the noggin' works just fine ta sorte Sammy's bullshit." Norman smiled in passing at Dot who paused to watch him and then look at Buddy in concern once he peered out the bathroom door. "You two kids run along now. I'll see yous around." He tried not to laugh when he heard Buddy fretting over potentially getting fired for starting a fight. Kid still had a lot to learn about how Joey Drew Studios ran for all these years. Sometimes tough love was all it needed. But not this time.

His nanna's tales rushed back to him when he'd cornered Sammy in his office. Norman didn't like roughing people up, but he'd promised the music director that if he stepped on any toes for the wrong reasons he'd give him a whooping like the one the blond had been begging for, back when he'd first harassed the projectionist. He had half a mind to start hollering until he'd caught sight of Sammy's eyes. Nanna had described insanity in great detail. The unfeeling and unfocused darkness in poppop's eyes that consumed the man she'd loved and left nothing behind. Sammy's eyes were a soft hazel, the nice flicker of green so full of the essence that made Sammy Lawrence who he was. What Norman saw instead of those pretty peepers were dark pools, a sickly grayish brown with flecks of blackness like tar. Like ink... Norman completely forgot what he was to say. He couldn't bring himself to talk when he saw the same thing that had tormented his nanna's dreams. It just wasn't right.

Joey Drew was up to something, and Sammy was involved somehow. By his own volition, Norman wasn't too sure. The kid was acting mighty strange since Norman had noticed his eyes had inexplicably changed color, and whatever progress for positive change he'd made was completely gone. If anything, Sammy had become an incredibly volatile and aggressive husk. Very few people noticed, which was what was so concerning. "It can't be a coincidence... Joey barely showin' his face 'round the departments and Sammy actin' up like the devil bit him in the ass..." He'd paced as he watched Jack drink what was likely the 5th cup of coffee he'd in the morning. "Whatever it is, Sammy's more enthusiastic about his songs for a change..." He sounded nonchalant about it. "He complained about all the pieces Drew forced him to change... Now he's less, angry about those. Seems to love them actually." "Those little annoying jigs? He said they was garbage!" "And they are. Putting lyrics to those was dang awful but... Well if he's happy, I'm happy..." Jack gave a weak smile before coughing a rather wet sounding cough. He took another sip of his coffee to sooth his throat. "You comin' down with somethin'?" "Must be... This gross cough has been popping up a lot. And my nose is awfully stuffy. Can't smell or taste nothing, which is good considering I gotta hide away in the sewers to work..." Norman huffs. People were getting sick from being forced to do overtime with no rest. Jack getting sick wasn't entirely out of the question. But the stench of something acrid coming from his mug did give him cause for concern. Best check to see if Wally hadn't accidentally stored the coffee beans with the cleaning supplies again. A week later he forgets about it once he instead finds himself making a list of the people he stops seeing around the Studio not long after he noticed something up with Joey and Sammy.

There's Jack, who he hadn't noticed gone at first until he'd gone poking around the sewers and not caught sight of the shorter lyricist. There was Johnny Brokehart, who's organ was completely abandoned in its little corner. No one dared touch it, in case the man returned and found so much as a pipe out of place. There was Julian Whitaker, the tall gangly cellist that often sat with the resident art critic, that Vernon fellow who liked to stare at the cartoon posters like they were masterpieces on display at a museum. Susie Campbell had gone too. Wally insisted she hadn't quit, and was awfully worried about her. Allison and Thomas had also up and split after they'd made a scene at one of them fancy parties Joey used to get investors to dump money into his lap. Shawn Flynn, Grant Cohen, Bertrum Piedmont, Lacie Benton, Emma LaMonte... People were vanishing left and right and there was no say of them being fired. Norman had a theory, and he didn't like it one bit. He tried to do his best to inform the younger hires to run before something inevitably happened to them. He told Buddy and Dot it was dangerous, in as little words he could so not to let Joey catch wind of what he did know. He prayed to whatever god was out there that no bad befell those two kids. And then he'd grabbed his light and went down, where the groaning and moaning came from.

Norman ran. Ran as fast as he could, trying not to look at the things trapped in those tubes. The creatures that were tall, gangly, and vaguely humanoid. Weeping faces pressed to the glass, begging to be let out. The disgusting sludge creatures, barely holding themselves together and clawing at the glass in obvious suffering. The thing that had Sammy's voice and that was rushing after him, axe in hand and Bendy mask covering its face. Screaming at him to accept the "Lord's" blessing. He ran and dodged strikes that nicked his elbows, his legs, grazed his ankle and back... He came to a full stop before what could only be described as a throne. Horrified to find something twisted that looked like a humanoid corpse-like Bendy bound in chains. And then he was knocked onto the floor, air escaping his lungs from the sudden collision. The Sammy thing was on top of him, overjoyed to have caught him. And then all around, Joey Drew's voice filled the room... The thing on the throne shook and hissed. "Excellent... You know what to do Prophet. Baptize this non-believer in the name of your lord." "Anything for you my lord. Anything!" Norman tried to fight him off, knocked that silly mask off his face even. Except there was no face. Not even eyes. Windows to the soul... If he had none, then did Sammy even have a soul anymore? The axe raised, and Norman Polk didn't even have time to scream before it plunged into his chest, destroyed his ribcage, and obliterated his heart.

#Eps Writes:#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM #Norman Polk #Sammy Lawrence

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vamplu · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1:

“Sorry, I’m not interested. It’s clear to me you have plenty of loyal bitches already.”, the girl scoffed at the tall man trying to “pick her up”, “Besides you’re not my type at all.”. “Aw c’mon. Don’t be a tsundere~”, the man Chikage Rokujou said with a wink. “Yeah no, sorry. I have more important things to do than sit around with some womanizing scum.”, the girl shot back, “And also, let me know if any of these girls aren’t in high school.”. She began to walk away, heading to her job’s location, a maid cafe in Ikebukuro. She thought about how much men sucked, all the way from her father, to her “fiance”, to the random men on the streets. Her only safe haven was the maid cafe’s owner, an old woman who’d started it for fun, Amai Fukiro. All the girls called her “Grandma”, though. She was wise, kind, and well old. A perfect grandmother figure. The other girls, however, were jerks. As Hanako opened the door, she heard the bell ding, and the cheery call of her co-worker, a fellow high schooler, Sakura, “Afternoon, Hanako-San!”. “Please drop the ‘san’. I’m only a year older than you.”, Hanako replied, cringing. She was a third year at Raira Academy, being eighteen years old, and the younger girl always called her “Hanako-San”, which only added to Hanako’s stress about what would be happening when she graduated. A domestic life was the scariest thing about her future. She walked to the employee locker room, and changed into the maid costume, and walked back to Sakura. “We go on in three minutes, once the other guy’s shifts end.”, Sakura reminded. Hanako nodded, “You ready?”. Sakura nodded happily. Hanako cracked a small smile, “You’re adorable, y’know?”. Sakura’s cheeks tinted light pink, and she shook her head. Hanako returned her attention to the door that led into the main part of the cafe. Sudden;y, Sakura piped up with a question that startled Hanako. “A-are you… in the Dollars?”, she asked nervously. “That gang?”, Hanako asked, confused. “Yeah… just wondering.”. “I’m not.”. “Ah ok.”. “Why?”. “I just thought that y’know, someone as cool as you would be in something cool like the Dollars.”. Hanako laughed, “I’m not cool, and neither are the Dollars. Gangs aren’t cool. They may seem like it, but they really aren’t.”. “I know but still… being without rules or guidelines, or even a leader? They seem so… well, cool!”, Sakura gushed, and turned her face to Hanako. “Rules and guidelines keep the world functioning, leaders guide people away from mistakes in principle.”, Hanako replied, though she didn’t mean it. She hated all the rules she had to follow. “I know but still… chaos is kinda fun!”, Sakura giggled. “Chaos is not ‘kinda fun’. I can’t tell you what to or to not do but please, think about the effects before you take any leaps of faith and dive into anything remotely illegal. It ruins lives, you know.”, Hanako said, grabbing the girl’s hands and looking into her eyes, “You don’t want to wind up in jail, pregnant, or with a criminal record.”. “Pregnant? What part of the Dollars makes you think I’ll get knocked up?!!”, Sakura exclaimed. “Nothing… just something I saw earlier. My bad.”. Sakura blushed and looked down. Hanako released the girl’s pale wrists, “Anyways, please don’t do anything illegal.”. “I didn’t ever say I was going to join the Dollars, Hanako-San.”. “I can see in your eyes you’re thinking about it.”. “I forgot you can read me like an open book.”, Sakura giggled, “And I’m still thinking about it, nothing’s set in stone.”. Hanako nodded, and bit her lip. How much she wished she could be in the Dollars, free. She wanted to be like the Headless Rider, a free spirit that did what was good. She also wanted to bike like it did. She’d seen it once, for a moment, and her vision and dreams were captured, whether or not they could come true. Three girls came rushing in, and sighed, “Your turn. Good luck, it’s a riot out there. There’s a group of four with endless stomachs and two otakus. Some sort of party.”. “Thank you Rio, we’ll do our best.”, Sakura replied with a smile. “Yeah, yeah.”, Rio said, “Now get out there.”. Sakura and Hanako rushed out, and were greeted with various regulars, and a group of four people, in their late teens and early twenties, who sat by the window chatting away. “I can handle them if you can get the frequents.”, Hanako whispered, and Sakura nodded, looking relieved. Sakura was good with people older than her, not so much people her age. Hanako walked over with a smile painted onto her face, and asked sweetly, “Hello!~ My name is Hanako, and I’ll be your server today! What can I get you to drink?”. “I’ll have some of the cat coffee!”, a girl in a long black dress said, her hair covered for the most part by a black hat. “Alright!”. “I’ll have water.”, a level headed guy said, his slicked back black hair was under a black do-rag. “Mhm!~”. “I’ll have the green tea.”, a man with shoulder length brown hair said. Hanako nodded, and turned to the final customer, a boy with light brown hair. “I can’t pick between the sakura blossom tea, or the cat coffee…”, he said, “What would you get?”. “Well it depends. If I’m sleepy, sad, or angry, I’d get the cat coffee. I’d pick the sakura blossom tea if I was calm or relaxed.”, Hanako said, “The cat coffee is more chocolatey, and the Sakura Tea has a distinct tea-like taste.”. “Hmmm….”, the boy said, “I think I’ll go for the cat coffee, in that case. I want something sweet.”. “I’ll have those right out!”, Hanako smiled.

Finally out of that damn dress, Hanako thought, retrieving her cell phone from her pocket, and reading her messages, which only bored her further. She was supposed to go home after work, but she wanted to see the sakura trees in the park, as it was spring, and they were in full bloom. She hoped she’d get to see the Headless Rider, or something cool. Maybe then her mundane life would be a little more interesting. She was so sick of the same cycle she went through everyday. School, then work, the straight home for homework and studying. Sometimes she was able to watch TV, if she got done with all her assignments by 10, her curfew. Hanako knew she’d be in trouble when she got back home late, but she couldn’t care anymore. When was she not in trouble? At this point her father was more mad at her than not, and her mother was in America, like always, working at her fashion company. She had finally made it to the fountain, in the center of the park, to which she sat on. She pulled the book she’d been reading out of her bag, and silently read it. It was about “How to Live Life Like You Want”, another inspirational book her mother had given to her. She thought it was a sign from Mom, that maybe she should break out of the mundane, but had quickly written out the thought. Mother wanted her to marry Makoto just as much as her father did, for the same reasons too. Money, power, and title. The three things that fueled all of her parents decisions on her behalf. She’d be forced to forfeit free will for as long as she could remember. Makato was… nice, but when you’re forced to marry someone, you only see their flaws. He was quick to anger, and spoiled. He didn’t know suffering, and she supposed she didn’t either, but it doesn’t make her any less resentful of him. He was never yelled at, didn’t have to work for his good grades, and did horse-back riding. He was annoyingly perfect. Hanako hated him. She let the words of the chapter sink in, about making your own choices that benefit you. Wish it was that easy, she thought, Wish I could just leave and never look back. She shoveled the book back in her bag, and shook off her crazy ideas. She couldn’t leave. Not in a million years. She sent a text to her dad, a quick, “I’m ok and I’ll be home soon.”, text. She began her walk home, and paused for a moment when she saw two of her underclassmen, Anri Sonohara and Mikado Ryugamine, walking together, most likely heading home. She was slightly jealous of them, but nothing she had confirmed, or had been confirmed. She could tell by looking into their eyes that they lived a life that was anything besides normal. She looked away for a moment, and thought hard for a moment. I could run. I could make it. I could join the Dollars. I could look for the Headless Rider…, she thought, before again, shaking the thought away. She owed it to her parents to do what they wanted. They had given her a good life, and given her life to begin with, the least she could do was pay them back in doing their wishes. Besides, she couldn’t leave her younger sister, Asumi. Asumi loved the way they lived though, and wanted to marry Makoto instead of her older sister. Makoto was good with kids. Hell, he’d make a great dad. And a great husband. But he was to tame. He was too domesticated. Hanako didn’t want children or to be a housewife. She wanted to be free. Something she’d never felt. She was bound by chains of gratitude, and the feeling of owing her parents. She’d thought about the group of friends from earlier. Erika, Walker, Kyohei, and Saburo. She’d picked their names up from their conversations, which she’d been listening to as she waited on them. Sometimes, they included her, asking her questions or for her opinions. She wanted friends like them, a group of people she could trust with her life and secrets. Their smiles were genuine, their laughter full and bright. She felt her fingernails dig into her palms, and she pressed them harder, snapping herself out of her daydreaming. She let out a sigh and continued walking. Anri and Mikado were long gone, she couldn't even see them walking behind her. Friendship and… love, she thought sadly, Something I can’t have.

She made it home with no complications, which disappointed her, but what more did she expect? Her father went into his usual rant about her being late, told her that Stella, their housekeeper, would bring her dinner at her room because he needed the dining room for “work”. Hanako did as she was told, and sat herself at her desk, retrieving her red folder for homework, and began on her chemistry homework. Stella opened the door softly, and said, “Here’s your dinner, Hanako.”. “Thanks Stella.”. They were on a first name basis, as they had been for years. Stella was the daughter of one of her father’s workers' children, who couldn’t raise her, and asked him to take her in. She was Hanako’s closest thing to a friend, as they had grown up together basically. Only difference was that Stella was being paid to be a prisoner of the Ito family home. Stella placed the plate of food on her desk. “Hanako, something appears to be bothering you. You can talk to me, anytime.”, Stella said. “I’m fine Stella, really. Just a bit stressed from balancing work, school, and training. Nothing I can’t handle.”, Hanako replied, grabbing Stella’s hand in her own, “But some green tea might help, if you wouldn’t mind.”. “Of course.”, Stella replied, “I’d be glad to get you some tea. Is that all?”. “Yes ma’am, it is.”, Hanako said with a smile, releasing Stella’s hand. Being eighteen, a student, an heir to a multi-billion dollar company, and a full-time maid café worker made life… hectic. She enjoyed her job. More than anything, really. Little did she know, the customers from earlier were talking about her.

“Dotachin, don’t you think that girl from the café was really pretty? Her boobs were big too! She was a perfect dating sim character.”, Erika exclaimed. “For sure! She’d be the mature older sister type, right?”, Walker chirped. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. She was nice, boobs or not.”, Kyohei replied, “Don’t make comments like that about any woman or girl, got it?”. “Aww man! It’s just true statements though!”, Erika whined. “We don’t wanna seem like we don’t respect women, do we?”, Saburo said. Walker and Erika nodded, “We aren’t like that at all!”. Kyohei nodded at Saburo in thanks. “HeyHey! Dotachin, we should ask her if she wants to join us! She seemed so bored with her life!”, Erika exclaimed, “She seems super kick-assey too!”. “Yeah for sure! She seems so mysterious. She’s actually like a protagonist! Super bored with their life and looking for change! We could be the supporting characters of her story! I bet she has daddy issues too!”, Walker gushed. “Here we go again.”, Saburo groaned. “We can’t just walk up to her and ask if she wants to join our gang.”, Kyohei explained, “It’s a surefire way to get reported to the cops.”. “Aww man! I wanted another girl on our team…”, Erika mumbled. “I wanted a big sister type girl!”, Walker pouted. Kyohei sighed. Saburo laughed, “So you thought we were going to just ask her, and she would say yes?”. Erika and Walker looked at each other. “Joining a gang isn’t the kind of thing someone says yes too.”. “Well yeah but-”, Erika started, but was cut off by Kyohei, “Saburo's right. No one joins a gang because someone asks them too.”. “Unless there’s blackmail! Or threats!”, Walker exclaimed. “Right…”, Kyohei replied.

Hanako gripped the pencil in her hand harder, her eyes scanning the algebra questions, and answering them easily. “Simplify…”, she muttered, before furiously scribbling things down. Stella’s home brewed green tea always made her focused, most likely because of the caffeine. Stella had left a while ago, and Hanako missed the presence of her, as she acted as a big sister in a weird way. She was five years older than Hanako, and was wiser and less driven by emotions, not to say she was emotionless. She had a very logical view on life, and passed on her opinions with reserve and grace. She was dignified, and way more suited to be the Ito’s next chairman. Suddenly, her door burst open, and she heard the voice of her twelve year old sister, Asumi, who exclaimed, “Hana! I want you to paint my nails!”. “Asumi… I’m doing homework, maybe later.”. “No I want them done now~”, she whined, “I’ll pay you ten bucks!”. “I don’t need your money, Asumi.”. “Well I want you to paint my nails, so make it twenty.”. Asumi had no idea how much twenty dollars really was in her young mind. “Fine, if you insist.”, Hanako sighed. She was almost done anyway. “I’ll go get the color!”, Asumi cheered, looping her skinny arms around Hanako, burying her face into her breasts. “Ok, ok. I get it.”, Hanako said, rubbing the girl’s blonde hair. Asumi ran out, and was back two minutes later with a pearl pink color in her hands. She thrusted the bottle into Hanako’s outstretched hands, “Thank you Hanahanamura!”. “I told you to just call me Hana.”, Hanako sighed. “Okok fine!!”, Asumi giggled, “Do you have time to do my feet and my fingers?”. “A mani-pedi? Don’t you know dad would let you get your nails done any day of the week.”. “I know but it isn’t the same as when you do it Hana!”. The sentiment warmed Hanako’s heart, and she began painting her sister’s nails.

“Your twenty dollars, m’lady.”, Asumi giggled as she passed Hanako a crisp twenty dollar bill. “Thank you my peasant.”, Hanako teased. “Hey! I am at least a princess!”, Asumi cried out. “You sure are. Princess Asumi, Queen Athena, King Mirio and…”. “Princess Hanako! If I'm a princess you’re a princess!”. “Umm… ok, Princess Hanako.”. Hanako wasn’t the same as her sister, not at all. Her sister wasn’t a closed door rebellion, a secret disgrace. She didn’t hate her father, or Makoto. She wasn’t selfish. “Mhm!~ Princess Hana and her Prince Charming, Makoto!”. Asumi had said it as a joke, but Hanako cringed at that statement. “Yeahhhhhhhh.”. “Mhm!~”. Stella broke the awkward situation, “Ms. Asumi, it’s your curfew.”. Asumi pouted, and hugged Hanako goodbye. “Night Night Hana!”, she said softly, kissing Hanako’s pale cheek. Hanako wrapped her arms around Asumi, and kissed the crown of her head, “Goodnight Princess Asumi.”. Ausmi released Hanako, and bounded behind Stella, heading to her room. Hanako finished her homework, and took a shower. As the hot water ran down her body, she found herself singing. “I hope you know that I’m trying to build a life I can love. I hope I never stop dreaming, I need something I believe in.”, she sang, projecting her thoughts and feelings into the words she sang, “I dip this world in black and white, monochrome igniting. I'm gonna be a neon sign. Let the ship rest 'cause I'm lighting up the city. I don't ever wanna wake up wondering, where the youth have gone. Not gonna be another sell out zombie, wondering what went wrong. I'll never give in, I'll never back down, I'll never be another zombie in a life that's not my own.”. By the end of her “song”, she felt a little better, a little less confused. She stepped out of the warm shower, and dried herself off, putting on her pajamas, and laid down in bed. She decided to read, and picked up where she’d left off in the book her mother had given her. “Chapter Five.”, she read aloud, “Don’t Be a Slave to Obligation”. She was shocked by the chapter title. It was exactly what she was suffering from. She read more, engrossed by the chapter’s calling out of her lifestyle. A slave to obligation is what I am, she thought, but I don’t have to be, do I?. But of course she did, she had no choice. She shook off the thought, it was ridiculous. She had to stay. For her parents, for Asumi, for Stella. She looked out the window, at the city below her, a large and vast place of different people and different groups she could become a part of. AShe could create her own group if she really wanted to. Her mind flickered back to Kyohei and his group of unlikely friends, and their connection. A bond stronger than steel, that nothing can peirce, ever. She longed for that, and not in the negative way she was feeling currently towards her family. Her mind flickered to Sakura, who was thinking about joining the Dollars, to her anxiety around people her age. Hanako ran a brush through her brown hair, her chocolate eyes fixed on the small handheld device on her nightstand. I could sign up for the Dollars right now… it would be so easy. “No!”, she commanded herself, “No more stupid thoughts!”. She grabbed her phone, but not to join the Dollars, instead to text her mother. “I’m enjoying the book you sent me, it’s very eye opening! Thank you Mother!”, she typed, and sent. Her mother didn’t respond, which she expected, as it was eight A.M in New York, which meant her mother was working. Athena Ito had a strict work schedule, which included not taking breaks for texts or calls that weren’t directly related to Ito Fashion. Ito Tech and Ito Fashion… the company's her parents owned. She finished brushing her hair, placing both the phone and brush on the nightstand, plugging the phone in, and fell asleep quickly.

#durarara!!#ocfic #oc fiction #izaya orihara #shizou #chikage rokujou #anri sonohara #mikado ryugamine #masaomi kida #ikebukuro #maid cafe #durarara #daddy issues #celty #headless rider #dollars #toramaru

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goldenkamuyhunting · 4 years

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Ramblings and crazy theory time about GK chap 237 “Underwater Breath-Holding Contest”

And after a chapter which gave us precious info about Sugimoto’s past we get again one that’s more action oriented, although from it we could still get some info.

For who’s wondering the ‘Kiss of Life’ is merely a trope.

Anyway, back to the story.

While Boutarou talks with the passengers, Sugimoto and Shiraishi talk about what to do… without bothering to involve Asirpa. Really, somehow they feel more disjunted than usual as a group, out of late.

Shiraishi points out that according to what Boutarou has said, the guy might have already discovered where the gold is hidden.

Sugimoto counters that Boutarou had however admitted knowing where to search isn’t enough to find the gold.

Shiraishi asks him what they should do in regard to the rumor about how useless it would be to collect the tattooed skins. Sugimoto, after a moment of hesitation, insist they should keep on gathering them.

This is a good moment to point out that keeping on gathering the tattooed skins brings up the following consequences:

- they’ve to hunt dangerous convicts that are all but willing to hand them their skins and might try to kill them

- they might end up killing said convicts

- they have as rivals to get the surviving convicts the Tsurumi group and the Hijikata group who also want the skins

- they will have to fight them anyway as both groups have part of the skins so if they want to get them all they’ve to steal from the others the skins they have

- the others will try to hunt them for the skins they own

- in the process they can also lose Asirpa who’s also hunted because she knows how to solve the code

- it will take them much more time

- they don’t know how many skins the others have so they’ve no idea when the convicts will all be found

In short, if collecting the skins is useless, pursuing them means only getting themselves in unnecessary danger and unnecessarily murdering people. In short is a bad combination that both Wakayama and Boutarou, seasoned criminals who don’t hesitate in killing people, rejected.

It’s beyond stupid to pursue the tattooed skins if there’s nothing to gain from them, Wakayama and Boutarou were intelligent enough to figure it out and stop. Wakayama gave up completely, Boutarou was smart and capable enough to devise a plan B as he didn’t intend to give up on the gold even if he understood plan A wasn’t worth being pursued.

So why Sugimoto, who’s not bloodthirsty and doesn’t want to put his friends in danger, wants to keep on chasing them?

Well, probably exactly for this reason.

Accepting that hunting the skins is useless means accepting what he did for more than a year was useless. He wasted time, he put his friends in danger, he murdered people ALL FOR NOTHING.

Sugimoto could likely accept doing it when the game was worth the candle, when the outcome would provide him much more benefits. But if all he had gone through was for nothing… well, how hard it becomes to swallow all this?

He has wasted time, he has suffered, he had murdered, he had almost lost Asirpa and it was all useless, a mistake.

For Boutarou and Wakayama it was easy to pull back, they had, at the time, invested too little in this, but Sugimoto had bet everything over how, if he were to collect all the skins, he would get the gold. While the clever thing would be to pull out like Boutarou and Wakayama had done, Sugimoto’s psyche is likely fighting it with all its strength, so that’s likely why he wants to reject the rumor and keep on going that way even if everything is starting to tell him it’s a wrong choice.

Shiraishi doesn’t pressure him, but suggests to pretend to ally with Boutarou and see how things will go.

Sadly this implies they can always betray and skin Boutarou later as there is no genuine wish to join hands in them, it’s just a situation of convenience.

And this is a good moment to remind everyone in this story there’s not a side who is with justice, that will be honest, that won’t betray an alliance. This isn’t ‘Saint Seiya’, here everyone is for himself and it’s meaningful that Noda presented Sugimoto as the first to break alliances, first the one with Asirpa, when in chap 14 decided to break their partnership without even telling her, thinking it’s for the better if you want, but still acting arbitrarily and leaving her on her own without even considering she might not just drop the search just because he’s not there but keep it up on her own and then with Tsurumi in chap 19 when he tricked him into giving him medical help in exchange for the skins.

Having the main character do this is our hint NO ONE is obliged to keep a deal, that all the deals are done out of self interest and can be broken exactly when interest conflict.

However, as Shiraishi and Sugimoto are thinking they can only pretend to join hands with him and then betray Boutarou later, Boutarou has found Heita’s skin, his cigarette case and the note with the rivers from which the gold came as well as his name, all hidden in Sugimoto’s backpack.

From this it’s easy for him to assume that no, despite what they had said, Shiraishi and Sugimoto didn’t come to his same idea as him by chance but murdered Heita and, from what they found on him, they came up with the same plan… or, more probably, they were trying to use the info they got to find and skin him the way they had done with Heita… and he’s not wrong because this was part of the plan and we know still is.

So Boutarou collect his accomplice and prepare himself to deal with Sugimoto and Shiraishi.

He tells in a cheerful tone (look at his balloons and how they aren’t just oval shaped but they look like small clouds) they’re about to reach Ebetsu and asks them again if they want to join forces with him. He then asks them if they know how much the gold is, if they believe it’s 75 kg as it was told to the prisoners. Then he tells them that the Ainu old man told him the amount of gold has to be much more, as it was put up in a huge pile of deerskin bags.

The info is interesting but again it opens the question of how they managed to move it all. It would have taken a lifetime for Wilk to do it on his own, if he did it with the Ainu who were killed, who supposedly weren’t that young (they included Ariko’s father and the brother of an old man), it would be better yet still be a big work.

I wonder if they used water to transport it as it would allow them to move it farther with more ease and speed than, let’s say, a carriage.

Too bad I find unlikely they could connect the place in which the gold was and the place in which they wanted the gold to end with water pipes in which they could just pour the dust and let the water do all the job of carring it from a place to another.

Still they could probably put it on boats, to move it far away from where it was. It’s still a big work though for few men who might not be that young anymore.

Oh well, when we’ll get an idea of the place in which the gold was, we might get hints on how it was moved.

Anyway Sugimoto at this confirmation that the gold is a huge amount sweats with a small smile while Shiraishi has an ecstatic air.

And they both react likely like Boutarou wanted, so caught up in this information that they lower their guard, all lost in their little world of how they’ll become rich and are caught completely on surprise when Boutarou tells them it’s a pity he can’t pursue his dream together with them, his accomplice pointing his gun at them from behind them.

Luckily for them there’s Asirpa who, having been cut out from adults’ conversations, had thought well to go back check Sugimoto’s luggage which had been left open and had realized Boutarou should have seen Heita’s cigarette case in it, as the case is now out of the bag.

Asirpa is no fool nor blinded by gold and immediately understood if Boutarou has seen the cigarette case and pulled it out, he should have also seen what it contained and Heita’s skin and would be less amicable with them than previously.

So, as Boutarou’s accomplice is about to shoot them, she throws one of her arrows to the gun, causing the tip of it to slide between the cylinder and the lower part of the frame, effectively blocking the cylinder from rotating and therefore rendering the gun unable to shoot.

So again Asirpa saves the day, after saving the day the chapter before. Really, as I said in a post long ago, when in troubles call her, she’s the most reliable to save the day.

As Peter Venkman would say ‘She came, she saw, she kicked their asses!’

Asirpa is great, that’s it.

A fight ensues… or better it would have ensued if the captain hadn’t rotate the ship’s wheel and caused it to move on a different track, a track that brought it close to the tree, causing their branches to basically sweep the bridge and send Sugimoto, Boutarou and Boutarou’s accomplice in the water, Shiraishi having the good sense to toss himself on the ground because Shiraishi is awesome like that and not enough apprecciated.

Boutarou’s accomplice… well, at a first glance I thought he ends up hitting his head against the waterwheel… but it can be he actually ended up being sucked by it as we see blood spraying out of it and then he starts drowning again, one of his legs bent to an odd angle and his body bleeding heavily.

So really it could have been much more gruesome than him just hitting his head... and I’ve to admit Noda toned down the gruesome scenes if I compare Golden Kamuy to when it started. I mean... Tamai’s face or lack thereoff is something I think people will remember for a long time... or do we want to talk of Noma hung on a tree with his intestines trailing down of it?

Sugimoto sees the scene but Boutarou is immediately behind him, grabs him and starts pulling him deeper underwater.

It’s worth to remember not only water is Boutarou’s element, in which he moves much better and much faster than Sugimoto but that he can hold his breath much longer than a common human so Sugimoto is hugely at disadvantage here. Boutarou was also very clever in this.

Not only he placed himself behind Sugimoto, making harder for the latter to hit him, but grabbed his left wrist, making difficult for Sugimoto to swing the bayonet he was holding with his left hand.

If anything Boutarou’s mistake was he didn’t manage to also grab Sugimoto’s right wrist but only the sleeve of his right coat, leaving him some measure of movement with his right hand.

Meanwhile outside Shiraishi asks Asirpa if she can swims… but it turns out she can do it only as long as she can touch with her feet. I wonder if this too will become a plot point or it’s just random info.

Anyway, wanting to help Sugimoto, our brave and awesome Shiraishi tosses himself in the water.

Meanwhile Sugimoto manages to grab with his partially free right hand the bayonet and tries to hit Boutarou with it. Boutarou let him go and, from Sugimoto’s face, we can see he’s pretty short of air, bubbles escaping from his mouth and nose and eyes open wide.

Boutarou grabs his foot, pulling him down again as Sugimoto waves desperately his arms and more air escapes from his mouth and nose.

At this point Shiraishi appears and grabs Sugimoto’s face.

Shiraishi is weak and can’t fight Boutarou so he planned to use the mouth-to-mouth breathing technique so as to give Sugimoto air and allow him to keep on fighting.

It’s a plan, it normally won’t work that easily in life but in manga and anime it hardly fails.

Sugimoto though, tries to push Shiraishi away and also moves his face away, causing Shiraishi to miss his mouth when he tries to give him air and then, for good measure, Sugimoto hits Shiraishi, the blow causing Shiraishi to partially lose consciousness and starts floating away, toward the air, stopping him from further attempting to give air to Sugimoto.

Overall I get the whole thing is played for fun, from the mouth-to-mouth breathing that can be viewed as a kiss to Sugimoto’s reaction. I’m not really amused though as it’s overall stupid.

Sure, normally this sort of things work solely in tv shows and manga/comics but Sugimoto is depicted as desperately needing air so he should have been extremely cooperative in the whole thing (have you ever tried drowning? You won’t be picky, you’ll literally kill to get air) because otherwise he could very well die, and harming Shiraishi might have caused him to drown as well, instead than do them any good.

I get that due to the rule of funny they would obviously both survive and that Sugimoto could pull out of his hammerspace new air without the need of Shiraishi’s help but really, I would have preferred if this fight between two cool guys was kept serious after Boutarou’s accomplice died in such a gruesome way. Sure, maybe Noda wanted the humor to make us forger exactly that but… well, as far as I’m involved it didn’t work.

Of course maybe it’s just me, not everyone must react the same to a joke.

Anyway, while Boutarou keeps pulling him down, Sugimoto losing more air from his mouth when the rule of cool comes to his rescue in form giant sturgeons deciding to swim close to them so that Sugimoto can... hum... yell so as to waste more air from his mouth (is he trying to say he’s immortal?)...

stab his bayonet in a fish and have it drag him away.

But it’s not like the fish swims toward the air and Boutarou doesn’t let go of Sugimoto’s foot while Sugimoto instead let go of more air and it’s only a mix of rule of funny and rule of cool that keeps him still perfectly aware and strong enough to hold onto his bayonet because everyone else at this point would have had his lugs completely filled with water, lost consciousness and drowned.

But I guess Noda realized one could pull this on only for so long.

Boutarou should have more ability to hold his breath underwater than Sugimoto, so keeping this up either undermines this because Sugimoto is faring way too well for someone who shouldn’t have even half of Boutarou’s ability or Noda would need to end this with Sugimoto finally drowning due to lack of air.

So, since Noda can’t kill Sugimoto but Sugimoto can’t get out of water to get air nor can beat Boutarou underwater, Noda decided to have luck save Sugimoto again this time not in form of giant fishes but in form of Boutarou’s long hair getting trapped in the waterwheel, pulling him to it.

I think the idea is that if Boutarou doesn’t free himself, this time he’ll either drown or, more likely, will end up making the same end of his nameless accomplice.

In fact, while Sugimoto manages to pull his head out of water and breathe, with Asirpa’s obvious relief, things take a turn for worse for Boutarou as his body is starting to get trapped in the waterwheel.

At this Noda shows us Sugimoto. I think the idea is that this means Sugimoto knows what’s happening to Boutarou and now he has to decide if he has to let him die or do something.

Meanwhile things are getting worse for Boutarou as he’s starting to lose air from his mouth and…

and that’s the moment Suggimoto cuts his hair free, saving him and probably willing, if not his loyalty, his possible cooperation.

Boutarou liked him already and likely attacked him only in self defense, because correctly figured out Sugimoto was out there for his skin and, like Sugimoto, he preferred to kill than to be killed.

They’re similar in many things those two and I like to think Sugimoto didn’t merely save him to get info but also because he felt a kinship through their similar pasts.

Honestly I would love for those two to become friends, Boutarou has a different cheeriness from Shiraishi, while Shiraishi is cheery because he doesn’t worry, Boutarou is positive but he’s also practical, a good thinker and tries to go for the best outcome. I think he could bring something good to the group.

Of course it always loom in his back the fact that Vasily, thinking he’s an enemy, might shoot him down. We’ll see.

Then, while a box gives us some info, we see that the rule of funny ensured, as expected, Shiraishi’s survival… but I kind of have the feeling this played again like the final page of chap 211. Shiraishi got the short end of the stick and no one cares as it was supposed to be ‘fun’.

Oh well, he was given the role of comedic relief so I guess not much can be done but I’m still sorry for him. He tried to help the way he could and his attempt was rejected, with Sugimoto putting him in danger only to make readers laugh. Honestly I think Shiraishi deserves more apprecciation but it might be just me.

#Golden Kamuy #Sugimoto Saichi #Shiraishi Yoshitake #Asirpa #Oosawa Fusatarou #Golden Kamuy Ramblings and Theories

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friendlyfrat-boy · 4 years

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The Straw-Hat Among Us Ch.6

Yellow: Kizaru

People returned to their positions rather quickly, Kizaru quicker than anybody else.

He hadn’t actually known that the tunnel outside his room led to the outside, y’know? But now, ohohoho, now he had a short-cut! At least, he thought he did, until he tried to climb in there only to find it far too thin and narrow for anyone with a skeleton to enter.

A shame, really. Being a little mole, climbing through the ground… What a dream! Kizaru’s heart went alight at the idea, but as it turns out, moles didn’t have bones, unlike Kizaru.

Or didn’t he?? Who knew! Kizaru sure didn’t. Had he ever seen a bone in his body? No. Never. If he poked a few places there was something hard beneath his skin, but that wasn’t proof. Until he saw his bones with his own two eyes, he had to assume he simply didn’t have any. That’s scepticism for you!

Kizaru snickered to himself and sat down in his comfortable chair, letting it swivel in circles for a few seconds before settling down fully.

It was a pretty odd design choice. What with only being able to see a single camera at once. Not that he could change any of that now. Maybe Zoro could have?

A frown found its way onto Kizaru’s face. Zoro really didn’t deserve that. A man shouldn't be killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And was it so wrong to suspect himself? It just didn’t make any sense. Kizaru trusted Zoro! He brought him popcorn! Would an evil murderer do that? Oh no they wouldn’t.

On that note, Kizaru honestly didn’t think Teach did it either.

Sure, at first the large man had been acting quite suspicious. He pretty much stayed outside all the time, being in clear view of a lot of the cameras. Sometimes he’d go into an area Kizaru couldn’t see with the cameras, stay there for a while, and then leave. Kizaru had originally seen this as something rather interesting, but after that first meeting, he was given a view at what had actually happened.

In every area Teach had stayed at, there was an adorable little snowman that paradoxically melted Kizaru’s heart. They were so cute! Little cutie snowmen with little cutie heads!

No way a murderer could construct something like that!

And then after the first murder, someone was going around kicking them over, too? Horrible! How mean! Kizaru swore that he’d catch that snow-killer if it was the last thing he did! Sadly, since most of the snowmen were outside his vision, he couldn’t see any of it happen. All he saw was Teach going around fixing them up, which was very, very kind.

And then that murder happened.

Thinking about it made Kizaru a bit sad, but he did have work to do. So, he turned back to the cameras, and flipped through them a few times. Birdy entered the Laboratory through the normal entrance and not the disinfection area, Buggy and Usopp walked into the West Wing through the lower entrance, and Smoker stayed in the Office, probably to keep an eye on if anybody moved.

And then… nothing much. At rare moments, Kizaru could catch a glimpse of Usopp and Buggy in O2, and even if the cameras didn’t have audio or anything, he could almost hear them chattering about everything and nothing. They got along so well!

Kizaru smiled and flipped around a bit. Nothing else to be seen.

Hum. Kizaru switched back to the camera showing the entrance to O2. Usopp and Buggy were sitting on the floor in the main room, Usopp pointing to a small drawing of a leaf, making large motions. Buggy nodded, shrugged, crossed his arms and altogether seemed defiant.

Usopp.

He’s the one who asked Kizaru to check and see if something had happened in Electrical, since a lamp had gone out in the boiler room.

He’d done so, and then the lights went out. All things considered, it was Kizaru’s fault that the lights went out, but… It was Usopp who asked him to do something. This caused Usopp to jump straight to the top of Kizaru’s suspect-list. He hated suspecting such a young man, but…

Could he honestly believe there was any bone in that nose of his? Not so.

...Either that, or there had to be a bone in that nose, hence why he must have bones, hence why he must not be a mole. No, wait, an imposter.

This was all so confusing! Oh, well. Kizaru wasn’t the inductive sort, and he wasn’t about to start being it anytime soon. His little suspicions would stay in his head, where they belonged. Nobody could tell him his thoughts were coo-coo crazy if they didn’t know anything about them.

Kizaru flipped through the cameras a bit more. Usopp and Buggy were still in O2, Smoker was probably still in the office, and Birdy… was exiting the Laboratory! How interesting! Kizaru made a little note of it in his notebook. As shameful as it was to admit, Kizaru was the forgetful sort, so if someone didn’t pass by a bunch of times or wave at him, he forgot it within minutes. Hence his little notebook. Scribble scribble. A quick look at the time… 21:47. It’s gotten late.

Kizaru flipped through the cameras, waiting for Birdy to pop up elsewhere. For a while, he didn’t, but Kizaru did get a look at something else.

There was an odd quirk to these cameras that only Kizaru knew about. They could see the inside, too. Not much of it, but enough to see a few happenings. He could see a little bit inside the Office, a fair bit of where they kept the drill, and…

The Boiler Room. Where Usopp and Buggy were.

This in itself wasn’t odd, they’d been in there aplenty, but… The people in there didn’t know they were being watched. And since they didn’t know that, it seemed like the perfect place to commit murder. And now that he had reason to suspect Usopp…

He flipped through the cameras as quickly as he could, noted that Birdy hadn’t popped up elsewhere, and went back to the lower camera in the West Wing. They were inside the boiler room alright. Buggy was twisting the knobs while Usopp watched. Menacingly.

Kizaru stared at them closely before giving another quick flip through the cameras. He had to remember to keep a watch on the other cameras, otherwise, he might miss something important. Such as a murder.

He watched, he flicked, and he watched. Time seemed to go so slowly. Like a drunk snail.

He watched them, flipped through the cameras, and-, and he saw the Birdy. Entering the upper entrance to the West Wing. Into Electrical. He scribbled the time and person and place as hastily as he could before returning to the Boiler Room. They were gone. Had he been found out? Had Usopp realized he’d been watching? Had it been done elsewhere? What was-,

“Kizaru?”

His head whipped around to face the intruder. Hadn’t even heard his steps. “Yeeeees Birdyyyyyy?”

A scowl twisted Birdy’s complexion. “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you whaaaaaat?”

“Whatever the hell you just called me,” Birdy growled.

Well, okay. “If you say sooooo, Pinkyyyyy.”

Pinky was about to say something else when he stalled himself. “Fine. I’m leaving.” And he did. He spun on his heel, and left. Odd behaviour, but Pinky was an odd man, so it was okay. Kizaru scribbled over every time he’d written “Birdy” in his notebook and replaced it with “Pinky”. That’s probably better, right?

He turned back to the cameras and flipped around a bit. Pinky left through the upper door, Usopp and Buggy were nowhere to be seen…

He let his electronic eye linger on the Boiler Room. Maybe there was a body there. Maybe he just couldn’t see it. Hidden behind a pipe or something. Leaning in, he inspected it as closely as he could, taking in the details of it. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing in the least.

There was a little sound behind him. Like the shuffling of a mole or something.

He glanced back, but couldn’t see anything in that darkened hallway.

He turned back to the cameras. Usopp was there, and Buggy, too! Good, good, they were alright. Better alright then dead, heh.

There was a shuffle again, but louder. Steps. Rocks clicking against rocks. He glanced back. There was a shadow back there. Darker than the dark hallway.

“Hellooooo?” Kizaru called out. No reply. He blinked, removed his glasses, wiped them off, and once he put them back on, he found that there was nothing there. “Huhhh…”

Usopp was on the camera again. Kizaru tried to focus, but it was hard. Something was happening, but he didn’t know where, or what, or to whom.

That is, until the blade was in his own throat. Blood splattered across the pristine shining screen, showering the room in dark red light.

The last thing he heard was the pssh of a door opening, and someone saying: “Shit, I forgot why I even came here! Kizaru, do you-,”

And then, he was gone.

#one piece #fanfic #kizaru #zoro #usopp #doflamingo #marshall d teach #smoker #caesar clown #among us #buggy the clown #marco the phoenix #shanks

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glenncoco4 · 4 years

Text

Moments Like This

A/N: Here’s that thought. I really wish something like this would happen but sadly it’s just a pipe dream.

XXXX

He walks up, standing next to the man in the corner of the room. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Ye-yeah, I can’t take my eyes off of them.” The new dad looks over at the brunette man, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “We named her Gabriella.”

“Gabby.” He repeats her nickname, wishing with all his heart that she would be able to hear him call her that one day. A bittersweet smile graces his face as he watches the little girl in her basinet all sprawled out like her mother use to when she was the same age.

The older man looks back at the bewildered young man standing in front of him with a serious yet prideful smile. “It’s nice to finally meet you, son.”

Deeks looks on still in a bit of a shock that he’s here, standing in front of him. “It’s really nice to meet you, too, sir.”

“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here, aren’t you?”

The shaggy blonde just nods.

“Well, I came here to tell you how proud of you I am. How eternally grateful I am that you’ve brought her out of her shell. Thank you for loving her the way she deserves and being the best man that I could’ve ever dreamt of for my little girl.”

“Thank you, sir. It really means a lot to me. Kens, has told me all of these great stories about you and what an amazing father you were.” He looks across the room at the creature their love created. “I hope I can be the same.”

The former marine wonders just what its going to take for him to finally believe in himself. “Which also brings me to the other reason for my visit. I want to tell you that you’re going to be an amazing father to your little girl. You are such a great man, Martin Deeks.”

“I don’t know. What if I can’t protect her or screw her up?”

“Marty, look at me.” A seriousness crosses over his face as he looks into the cerulean blues that belong to his son-in-law, conveying as much honesty as a look can. “You are an amazing man. Do you understand me? You are without a doubt the best husband to Kensi. You love her and cherish her with all your heart. I know that. I see that every day. Most importantly, she sees it everyday.” Donald can see that he’s slowly getting through to the shaggy blonde. “Now I want you to look at your left hand.”

Deeks lifts up his hand, examining it. His lip immediately curls up into a smile when his eyes lock onto the piece of metal and the words echo inside his head. “I am yours now and forever.”

“If you love your daughter as half as much as you love Kensi then she’s gonna be the luckiest kid in the world.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You are most definitely welcome, son.” He really wishes things were different and he could actually get to know the man that has his daughter’s heart for real, but life doesn’t always work out the way you want it to and neither does the after. “I really wish I were here.”

“So do I, sir.”

This kid is respectful, he likes that, but they’re family now. “And I’m also gonna need you to stop with the sir stuff. You can call me Don or dad if you’d like.”

“Thank you, dad.” He lets out a contented sigh. That name use to send a chill throughout his body. But now because of him he somehow just got his childhood back. The happy childhood he deserved. Is it crazy that the ghost of his father-in-law has made him feel more loved in the last 10 minutes than his very much alive father ever did. “For everything.”

Donald pats him on the back, trying to connect as much as he can with the detective. “Take care of my baby girl for me.”

“Always.”

He’s broken out of his trance when he hears that cute little grunt that always leaves her lips when she first wakes up. Her eyes flutter open giving him a view of those mismatched chocolate orbs that always send him into a tizzy. God he loves her so much. “Hey, you.”

“Hey. Who were you talking to?”

Deeks makes his way to the chair that’s next to her bed and sits down next to their daughter who’s sleeping away in her bassinet. “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.”

She reaches for his hand, intertwining their fingers as a smirk crosses her face. “Baby, you know I already think you’re crazy.”

“Okay, fine. I was-I was uh talking to your dad.”

The new mom’s brow furrows in confusion because she thinks her husband just said that he was talking to her dead father. “I’m sorry?”

“You know. Donald Blye the real life G.I. Joe.”

“What do you mean you were talking to him?”

“Well you know how in all those tv shows where someone dies and then a character sees them and even talks to them sometimes?”

She nods her head in understanding.

“It was like that but with your dad, which is crazy because I never even met him.”

She’s intrigued to say the least. “What did he say?”

“He said…” When he replays the words that came from his father-in-law’s lips back in his head, his tears being to fall. “He said he was proud of me. He said…that he was so thankful that you found a man better than he could’ve dreamt of and that….”

“And what, baby?”

“And that I’m going to be an amazing father to Gabby.”

Seeing the tears in his eyes when it finally hits him, all she wants to do is wrap her arms around him and never let go. “Come here.”

He goes to her as she pulls at his arm and sits down next to her. Once her arms wrap around him, he lets it all out. “I don’t understand.” He rests his head on her shoulder, letting years worth of tears flow.

“Don’t understand what?”

Deeks takes hold of her hand, intertwining their fingers. They both watch on with euphoric smiles as their rings clink together and a peace washes over the both of them. “I don’t understand how your father can make me feel more loved in 10 minutes of a dream than my father ever did in my entire life.”

She turns her head to rest against his. Unlocking their fingers, she places her hand on his cheek, wiping away his tears. Their eyes lock in a dueling battle of love. “Because your father was a horrible person that saw in you what he couldn’t see in himself. He could see what kind of person you were becoming and knew what great things you were going to do so he tried as much as he could to weaken you, but it didn’t work. Baby, he was envious of you. Real fathers, like my father are excited about the greatness their child has in them. They don’t try and kill their child’s spirit, they help it grow and flourish.”

“I’m gonna be that for her.”

“I know you are, baby.” She runs her fingers through his golden locks. Sad for the little boy that was told he would never amount to nothing, but so very grateful that he didn’t let his spirit get crushed. He’s gonna be the most amazing father.

Their girl is still sleeping so they figured they better get in a few zs themselves before they can’t. She rests her head in the crook of his neck, curling up into his body as much as the bed will allow.

She tilts her head up, giving him a soft smile. “I love you, Martin Deeks.”

Smiling at her words, he leans his head down, bringing his lips to hers. “I love you, Kensi Deeks.”

Just as their eyes begin to close a soft gurgling sound emanates from the bassinet followed by a high pitched cry. And so it begins.

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #Kensi Deeks #Marty Deeks #NCIS: LA #NCIS: LA Fanfic

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jace-the-writer-guy · 5 years

Text

A dream game of mine

These are the ideas I often come up with for a dream game, and it just combines so many elements from different things I've played or watched videos of into one huge and crazy thing that would be amazing to see and play. It's pretty much a pipe dream in this lifetime of mine but I can't help but imagine it. So without anymore stalling, here's all my ramblings about it.

I would just really love a game like Skyrim is, but just... more. Like Skyrim has a bunch of the adventure/exploration elements I love in a game, but I didn't think it had enough diversity in scenery and it all felt cold because of the part of the world it was set in.

I would love a game that was like Elder Scrolls Online in size with all the different provinces you can go to with all that land to explore between the snowy areas, desert areas, and forest/jungle areas and all the settlements that would be scattered throughout. And all the scenery in that game was beautiful to me. And along with that, add the crafting/blacksmithing stuff from ESO too, because that was the main thing I did when I played the game. I created everything I used from different swords and armor.

And speaking of swords and armor, I'd love the game to have what ESO does, which was have there be different styles of weapons and armor you can craft after you read the plans or whatever for it. Like a steel sword can be one style, or you can craft it in another style but it would have the same stats, just a different look. Same with armor too. Or a greatsword could be more on the skinny side, or you could make it be a massive weapon like what the Buster Sword is.

Whatever weapons you favorite will be visible on your character and you can choose where you want something specifically placed. For example, a Ranger could have their bow across their chest and back and their quiver of arrows at their back either behind either shoulder or at their waist, or on their thigh while they have a dagger on one hip and a sword on the other. You can't have too many weapons on your body though. There would be a weapon wheel you can bring up that lets you choose between what weapons you have favorited.

The weapons and armor would be highly customizable too. Like with armor, you could mix and match different pieces or furs to make something unique to you, and for weapons you could add different accessories to them like jeweled hilts or carved bow shafts.

As for the exploration, I think it would be a phenomenal thing to focus on in a fantasy game. With so many environments like what I mentioned above with forests to snowy areas, there can be some absolute magic to be discovered like beautiful lakes or ponds, or something like my Heaven's Clearing area I created in my RWBY AU. Mountainous areas with waterfalls cascading down the rocks? Giant trees in a gorgeously lush forest with a treehouse village? A snowy village deep within the mountains? An ancient and run down fortress in a canyon with only one small valley to access it? Sprawling cave systems in the mountains? Tropical beaches? A beautiful oasis hidden in the middle of a vast desert? Explore and you can find stuff like this and more.

Examples of the sights you could see. I don't know the artists sadly. I found these all on Reddit at r/imaginarylandscapes)

And if and when you find this stuff? Build there if you want! It could be like Fallout 76 with the C.A.M.P. thing, but you have such an extreme amount of freedom to build kind of like in Minecraft, and have the building be like a mix between Minecraft, 7 Days to Die, and Ark. Build what you want from a nice, cozy little cabin in the woods, or a big estate on the mountainside with the waterfalls going under the house. Make it as big and as grand, or as small and as cozy as you want it to be with loads of decoration stuff you can build, and with different variations to the decorations. Different styles of beds, candles, wardrobes, chests, doors, windows, whatever. Just give unmatched variety. And of course for all of them, you would have to go out and find the materials, like for a simple cabin you would have to go out and either buy the lumber, or cut it down yourself. Or if you want to just dig into the side of a hill or mountain and mold your home from there, you absolutely can, given you have the equipment to dig it all out. Or you could just be a nomad and camp around anywhere you wanted while you travel and not be held down to one place.

Character customization would let you be able to make the character you want for a fantasy game like this is in my imagination. Loads of different hairstyles, body types, eye/hair/skin colors, customize your height to be the size of a Goliath (in D&D) or a gnome and so on. Pick from a variety of races from human, different races of elves, dwarves, halflings gnomes, goliaths, orcs and tabaxis', mix races, and more. And in game, you can really pick any type of clothing/armor style you want from even more choices. And along with that, you can of course pick different classes for your character to be from a fighter/warrior, to a ranger, to a magic user, to a bard, or whatever. You pick your skills from a huge list of stuff for each class and you go around and do what you want to do as that character. And like with Dragon's Dogma (one of my favorite games), you can change your class instead of being tied into one class at really any point in the game that you felt like. And you can multiclass too and combine any two classes you want to try.

Magic in the game would be more... magical. Like you start out with basic spells if you're one of the magic using classes with sorcerers getting a bit more, but it all starts out as just looking very dull. And when you train and level up your magical abilities and find new spells out of the huge selection of them in the game, the magic gets more and more bright, vivid, colorful, vibrant, and flashy too so you can actually see the results of all the levels you poured into your magic.

It wouldn't just be exploration though, considering weapons, armor, and magic would be in the game. There would be so many different jobs and ways to make gold to choose from, and there would be multiple long running quests you could accept that would be like something from D&D. And a thing for that is that the game can either be single player and you can pick a party of NPCs to join you through your adventures, or you could switch it over to multiplayer and invite a few of your friends in to explore the world together or do these quests and split the rewards from both the journey itself and the reward for completing the quests. The questscan have different styles, like serious ones and some where there can be some fun, like a Borderlands mission.

And as something in between these quests, you could have different jobs you can choose from like I mentioned. You can start your own mine or lumber yard to sell ores, precious gems, or wood to anyone (NPC or player) that wants/needs it. You can do guard duty for someone, you could scout an area out for any dangers for someone wanting to build a house or for military, or chart out unknown parts of the world and draw a map of it (provided you take a cartography skill) and sell them to people. You could even just be a simple hunter and hunt game to provide meat and pelts for yourself and for trade. Or be a bard and make some music between more somber songs or uplifting ones, or ones where you just tell the tales of events that have happened in the game. And for that, the game would have a huge score of music. And there would be bounty hunting quests as well, and sometimes they can lead into something more.

You have the choice between if you want to be a combat focused character or a trader/craftsman focused character or something along those lines. In single player, you could hire an NPC bodyguard and they would be extremely competent (unlike the referees in WWE games :p) in battles in order to protect you. Or in multiplayer, your friends could provide your protection while you create trade routes or gather materials, or explore the world for treasures. And it could be the other way around with you being the bodyguard and your friend being the one you're protecting too.

Choose your own backstory from a huge list of options. You could have a backstory as a simple farmer, a guard, a soldier, a trader, a blacksmith, a mercenary, or a craftsman to name a few. Each backstory comes with a specific set of gear depending on the backstory and an area of the world you start out with and in. Like a mercenary would start with light armor and a battle axe, having just completed a job in the colder regions so you would have fur cloaks and armor or you could have just completed a job in a more tropical spot of the world.

And romance too! You could have your character romance any NPC in the game no matter if they're male or female, unless they're already married. Or if you want to do a bit more, romance them both! Start a family with them, and hire bodyguards to protect them while you're out adventuring, if your spouse doesn't have any combat skills of course. Or hire bodyguards anyway to secure your childrens' safety.

See a dog you want to adopt? Adopt it! Same with cats or any other animal you might see up for adoption or for sale from somewhere. Each province have different kinds of pets you can get, so traveling the world for your perfect hunting/travel buddy or housemate may be something to do. And you can name your pet too. Or you could even capture and tame a wolf or tiger or something in the wild too if you wanted. Also, you can pet your pets. Give them attention!

For travel, you could either carry the bare essentials on your character and just walk either alone or with a companion by your side, or you could save your gold for a horse or go tame a wild one to ride through the world. And on top of that, you can buy different types of wagons to carry all the things you need to set up a larger camp for yourself or for your companions. Larger wagons mean the need for an extra horse. And you can also buy or craft accessories for your horse and wagons, like different saddles or canopies respectively.

And also for travel across the seas, you can either pay for passage on a ship or save up gold to buy your own and hire your own crew to go on voyages. Along with that, one thing you could do is become a pirate if you chose to in case you didn't want to just spend your days on land, or become a trade vessel to transport goods from place to place, or you could even just have it become a passenger ship and take gold to take people across the sea. Search for buried treasure and pillage other ships as a pirate, or discover an island to claim for yourself and your friends.

One thing that would be in the game would be hunting, from small game all the way up to dragons. The hunting is something I enjoy so much in Red Dead Online that I would love to see it in a game like this with so many animals and creatures. Of course there would be stuff like boars, deer, bears, and animals like that but there would also be fantasy creatures to try to hunt, and the biggest, baddest, most difficult, and most rewarding would be dragons if you chose to hunt them. But you could just stick to hunting normal animals too, because that can be very rewarding in its own way like with what I said before about hunting. And of course, you could go fishing at one of the many rivers, streams, ponds, or lakes in the game too.

There would be two separate modes you could do between a more casual experience or something more hardcore. The casual mode would be that you don't have to worry about eating, drinking, sleeping, or worrying about temperature to survive while the survival mode would include all those things, plus the need to watch out for poisons, venom, or diseases or anything like that so players can enjoy the game how they want to enjoy it.

One thing about the game is that there is single player and multiplayer of course, but the multiplayer would have private servers and public ones for if you only wanted to play with friends, or if you wanted to take it online and interact with a bunch of other players. And on top of that, there would be separate servers for players who only want to have a peaceful time with other players where they can't attack each other at all, and servers where PvP is fully on for the players that want the danger of dealing with other players that want to take them out so there aren't those types of people in the same servers. Choose your server, choose your experience.

Another thing that would be a part of the game is full, unrestricted mod support. Create mods for the game to craft it into something truly special either with different weapons, armors, spells, quests, races, or anything. Download any mod you want at your discretion, no matter what it is. And the mod support would span all platforms the game is on with absolutely no restrictions regardless of platform or the content of the mods.

To make the game even more special, you can create a new character at any time you want, and your previous character will still be wondering the world while you're starting anew. And if you end up finding your other character, you can form a team with them and easily switch back and forth between the two. That would make it possible to create your own adventuring party rather than hire NPCs or relying on your friends. Or, you can just have your characters be completely separate. And if you wanted to, you could possibly romance your own characters if you can't find the right NPC in the huge world.

The hud would be something very simple, with a health and energy/mana meter, a mini map, and radar. Each thing here can be toggled on or off so you could just have your health and energy/mana showing while turning off the radar and map, or you could have it all be turned off to have nothing on your screen for a more immersive experience. You can switch between third and first person to increase that even more.

Basically what I want is some huge fantasy exploration/adventure/action/RPG, something so huge with so many things to do that it has such an immense amount of playability and replayability. Something set in an hugely detailed and gorgeous world with multiple large provinces/climates/biomes. It would take an insane amount of time to try to explore every little part of the world, along with completing all the quests. And there would never really be a shortage of quests because they would keep being added every once in a while to the game through free updates, along with the ones added through mods.

That's all I have to share about this huge, crazy, borderline impossible dream game of mine right now. I might add more to it if/when I think of more. I hope you all enjoyed the read if you decided to read it. I'd love to hear what you guys think, and I'd love to hear your own ideas if you have them.

#personal #video games #ideas #ramblings #dreams #game idea #dream game

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donttellstiles · 4 years

Text

Pack Mentality

PACK MENTALITY

CH.3

unedited

♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦

masterlist

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(gif credit to owner)

''So you killed her?'' Stiles questioned his best friend as both him and Scott walked into school, though Stiles casually said it as if it was a normal question to ask.

''I don't know, I just woke up'' Scott replied, shifting his backpack on his back.

''And I was sweating like crazy, like I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream were I woke up like that before'' Scott explains to Stiles in slight worry, wondering if this dream has anything to do with the new... supernatural development.

''Really? I have. Usually ends a little differently though'' Stiles being Stiles piped up, earning a look from his best friend.

''A, I meant I never had a dream that felt that real and B, never give me that much detail about you in bed ever again'' Scott glared over to Stiles as they continued to walk down the busy hallway.

''Noted. Let me take a guess here though''

''No I know, you think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow, like I'm going to lose control and rip her throat out'' Scott cut him off, staring straight ahead.

''No, of course not'' Scott turned to face Stiles and give him a look.

''Yeah, that's totally it'' Stiles confessed, Scott's head lulling down as both of them kept walking.

''Hey come on, it's gonna be fine, alright? Personally I think you're handling this pretty freaking amazingly. You know, it's not like there's a Lycanthropy for beginners class you can take'' Stiles continues.

''Yeah not a class but... maybe a teacher'' Stiles bit his lip in anger.

''Who, Derek?!'' He shouted, catching a few on lookers attention. Stiles clipped Scott over his head.

''Are you forgetting the part where we tossed him in jail?''

''Yeah I know, but chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus, it felt so real'' Stiles sighed.

''How real?'' He asked.

''Like it actually happened'' Scott spoke up sadly. The both of them soon walk out the other double doors and both froze in their spots at what they saw. One of the school buses was covered in blood, the back door being half ripped as forensic units and police officers surround the scene.

''I think it did''

~*~*~*~*

''Allison! Have you seen my curling iron?'' I called out from the bathroom. I glanced up and down and searched all cupboards but nothing. I huffed before turning to leave to walk into Allison's room. She wasn't there so I decided to go into her bathroom to see if she had stolen it.

''You could at least ask to use my bathroom'' I smirked to my older sister but continued to rummage through her bathroom for the iron. I smiled in triumph once I found it tucked away underneath the sink.

''Aha!'' I whipped it out and looked over to Allison with a look.

''Technically it's mine'' I just rolled my eyes and walked past her, heading back to my bathroom to plug it in, waiting for it heat.

''Come on you piece of shit...'' I mumbled underneath my breath, noticing the curling iron was playing up.

''Ready to go?'' Screw it. I threw my hair into a low messy bun and walked out of my bathroom after turning off the power switch.

''Your hair...'' Allison commented as I walked down the stairs. I groaned and rolled my eyes.

''I think my curling iron is broken'' I huffed.

''You mean MY curling iron''

''Whatever'' We both laughed before hoping into her car heading, off towards school.

~*~*~*~*

I was too busy chatting to one of my friends when I hear a collision right beside me. With a frown I turn to the side to see both Scott and Allison on the floor, collecting her stuff.

''Clumsy on your feet are we, McCall?'' I sassed, now leaving my friends, which I was surprised I had made seeing it was like only the second day of school, to walk over towards your sister and her guy.

''Something like that'' Scott replies, glancing at me with a look I couldn't really decipher before turning to face Allison again.

''You okay?'' He asked. He was kinda sweet I guess, in a nerdy type of way.

''I'll see you at lunch girl'' Alex said before leaving my side, sending a smile my way.

''Okay'' I replied, ignoring the stares I was now beginning to receive from the school body, mainly the guys.

''Ugh boys are so disgusting'' I exaggerated a little, rolling my eyes at one guy who sent me a wink from across the hallway. Allison looked up at me and laughed while Scott just awkwardly smiled.

''Not all of them are'' She says, obviously referring to Scott. I rolled my eyes once again and glanced down at her and Scott who have now finished collecting her things neatly. They were looking into each others and smiling like idiots.

''I'm going to barf, see you in English'' I said before leaving their side. I took one last look back as I was walking and smiled softly. I'm glad she has someone.

I soon collided with something heavy and almost tripped in my heels when I felt hands quickly snake around my waist, keeping me upright. I turn to face the front and smirk once I saw who it was.

''Hey cutie'' I flirted, watching his cheeks go a crimson red, his arms soon leaving my waist,

''I'm s-so s-sorry, I -didn't-'' I smiled at him which seemed to catch him off guard.

''Relax, I'll live dork'' I rolled my eyes at him, probably making him grow more flustered. I quickly maneuver myself around him and headed over towards my locker.

~*~*~*~*

''She hates me'' Stiles was complaining to his best friend all the way towards lunch. Scott had zoned out after the first minute, not really believing he was talking about someone other than Lydia.

''Or... finds me cute I don't know, she's giving me mixed signals'' Scott sighed before speaking.

''She's Allison's sister dude, she doesn't hate you'' he completed as they made their way to Chemistry.

''How do you know? I mean, for the love of god this... Olive-skinned hottie doesn't even know my name-''

''Olive-skin hottie?'' Scott questioned with furrowed eyebrows and a small smirk.

''Yeah, as in tanned skin, cold as ice, perfect complexion, she has-'' Stiles rambled, taking his seat behind Scott.

''Okay stop, before my ears start to bleed'' Stiles glared at his best friend but dropped the subject.

''Okay well... what about last night?'' Scott sighed.

''That's the last thing I want to talk about right now'' Scott dropped his head.

After a few moments of silence Scott spoke up again.

''Maybe it was my blood on the door...'' Of course he was quiet so only Stiles could hear him.

''Maybe it's animal blood'' Scott turned around to face Stiles with a confused look.

''Maybe you caught a Rabbit and ate it'' Stiles suggested, twirling the pencil in his hand.

''Raw!?'' Scott answered in a 'really' tone.

''No, you stopped to bake it in your little werewolf over, I don't know, you're the one who can't remember anything!'' Stiles replied.

''Mr Stilinski, if that's your idea of a hushed whisper you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while'' Mr Harris, their chemistry teacher spoke up in front of the class.

''Earphones...'' Stiles mumbled underneath his breath in annoyance.

''I think you and Mr McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?'' Mr Harris spoke with his hands now on his hips.

''No'' Stiles argued. Harris pointed his fingers and Scott and Stiles sighed, picking up their things to move. Scott soon found himself sitting in front of Jackson. He felt himself beginning to tense.

''Hey, I think they found something!'' Scott ears perked up at the girl beside him as the class rose and all rushed over towards the windows. They all hovered around trying to see what was going on.

''That's not a Rabbit'' Scott spoke up, turning to face Stiles momentarily.

Once the man in the stretcher sits up and yells, everyone gasps and steps back from the window, Scott's eyes widening in realization.

''This is good, this is good'' Stiles tried to calm his friend down.

''He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that'' Stiles tried to soothe.

''Stiles, I did that''

~*~*~*~*

''But dreams aren't memories'' Stiles countered, walking with Scott hurriedly towards their lunch table.

''Then it wasn't a dream'' Scott said, placing his tray down on the table.

''Something happened last night and I can't remember what'' Scott continues, placing his back on the seat next to him as he sits down across from Stiles.

''What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?'' Stiles asked, now sitting down himself.

''Because, during the full moon, he didn't change. He was in total control, while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy'' Scott replied.

''You don't know that'' Stiles bit back.

''I don't not know it'' Scott freaked. Scott glanced to the side and sighed sadly to himself.

''I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel'' Stiles frowned at this.

''No you're not cancelling, okay? You can't just cancel your entire life. We'll figure it out'' Stiles encouraged, picking up his apple.

''Figure what out?'' I pipe up, hearing the end of their conversation. Cutie's eyes widened as I took a seat next to Scott, Allison sitting on the other side. Lydia took the one at the end of the table while Danny sat next to brown eyes.

''Just, uh, homework''

''Yeah'' I furrowed my eyebrows at their lame save but let it go, smiling over towards Jackson as he came over, sending a smile back.

''Get up'' Jackson spoke to the guy who was sitting next to Lydia.

''How come you never ask Danny to get up?'' The guy whines causing me to roll my eyes in annoyance. I open up my backpack and reach for my lunchbox, beginning to eat. I always hated cafeteria food since being served raw chicken at my third last school in Texas.

''Because I don't stare at his girlfriends coin slot'' I smiled at this and looked up to Danny as he sent me a friendly wink.

''So, I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack?'' Danny spoke up, obviously referring to the school bus. During class we get an announcement over the P.A from the principle explaining in minimal details of what had happened last night.

''Probably a Cougar?'' Danny wonders aloud to the group.

''I heard Mountain Lion'' Jackson joins. I bow my head down and softly laugh.

''A Cougar is a Mountain Lion... isn't it?'' Lydia speaks, obviously acting dumb. Just another reason why I didn't like this girl.

''Who cares?'' Jackson spoke. I lent back in my chair and looked at the guy across from me who sat in between Danny and Cutie. He stared back and smirked, sending me a wink. I rolled my eyes in disgust and turned my attention away from him.

''The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway'' Jackson said without any sensitivity.

''Actually, I just found out who it is check it out'' Brown eyes spoke up, showing his phone to the whole group. I lent forward along with everyone else, watching the video clip.

''I-i-i know this guy'' Both Allison and I turned to face Scott confused.

''You do?'' the both of us spoke in perfect sync. Scott did a double take before continuing.

''Yeah, when I used to take the bus, back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver.'' I frowned and lent back in my chair.

''Can we talk about something more fun, please?'' Lydia spoke in boredom.

''Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night?'' Lydia asks, turning to face Allison. I frowned and also faced her with my eyebrows furrowed.

Allison gulped on her water and slowly placed it back down in surprise.

''You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night right?'' I gave Allison a 'really' look a she glanced my way before Lydia's.

''Um, we were thinking of what we were going to do'' Allison speaks nervously, glancing at Scott.

''Well, I am not sitting home again watching Lacrosse videos so if the five of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun''

''Five?'' I questioned, turning to face Lydia. She beamed at me and nodded her head.

''You're coming with us too silly'' I gotta give it to her, it did feel like she was being genuinely nice to me.

''Yeah I guess... sounds fun'' Allison still seemed on edge.

''You know what else sounds fun?'' Jackson asked rhetorically,

''Stabbing myself in the face with this fork'' Lydia quickly snatched it out of his had and gave him a stern look. I laughed softly again and glanced across the table.

I watch brown eyes roll his eyes as he drank causing me to smile and laugh slightly more. He looked my way and seem to choke on his water making me laugh more.

''How about bowling? You love to bowl'' Lydia speaks.

''Yeah, with actual competition'' Jackson replies.

''How do you know we're not actual competition?'' Allison sasses back at Jackson with a smile.

''You can bowl, right?" Allison turns to ask Scott. I glance away from cutie over to him, seeing his face drop.

''Sort of''

''Is it sort of, or yes?'' Jackson pushed.

''Yes, in fact, I'm a great bowler'' I had a feeling he wasn't and bowed my head once again, hoping this lunch was going to be over soon.

~*~*~*~*

''Mmm pass'' Lydia sighs, shaking her head. The three of us had been in Allison's room for the past hour watching her go through her clothes finding the perfect outfit for tonight.

''I can't believe I'm saying this but maybe you should wear something of Avery's'' Lydia speaks causing me to smile.

''Nawww, babe'' I mocked towards Lydia but the both of us laughed anyways. Allison just huffed and turned around to face her wardrobe with a frown.

''Okay, let me see'' Lydia stood up and walked over, deciding to go through the wardrobe once again.

''Mm pass, pass, pass, pass.. pass on all of it'' Lydia says as she goes through each top.

''God, Allison, respect for your taste it dwindling by the second'' I tried not to laugh at the whole scenario. Allison was always the better dresser out of the both of us so it boggled my mind that she didn't have an outfit for this group date.

''Hmm, this'' Lydia pulls out a sparkly top for Allison. Allison takes it and walks over towards her wall length mirror and puts it up against her front.

We all hear the door click open as dad enters the room. Allison's eyes widen.

''Dad, hello?'' She questions, though she probably gave him a look.

''Right, sorry, I forgot to knock'' Dad says, slipping on his jacket.

''Hell Mr Argent' I heard Lydia's preppy voice sign as she falls onto the bed. With this I roll my eyes. Just as I was starting to like her...

''Dad do you need something?'' I spoke up, sitting up on the bed as I looked over his face for any signs of anything. I'm an observer.

''I wanted to tell you girls that you'll be staying in tonight'' I groaned as I slumped back into Allison's bed.

''What? We're going out with out friends tonight'' Allison began disappointed.

''Not when some animal is out there attacking people'' Dad, the over protective parent.

''Dad, dad I-''

''It's out of my hands, there's a curfew. No one's allowed out past 9:30pm'' Allison rolled her eyes and threw her shirt onto the bed next to me.

''Hey, no more arguing'' He sternly replied to Allison before sending me a look as well. He turned around and walked out the bedroom door.

''It's not fair, why does he get to go out?'' I whined. Allison turned to face me curiously.

''What do you mean?'' She asked confused.

''He was putting on his everyday jacket, duh, he was heading out too'' I gestured towards the door.

''Daddy's little girls'' Lydia speaks up to both Allison and I.

''Sometimes, But not tonight'' My eyes widened once I saw Allison look over to her closed bedroom door and reach for her beanie. I sat up and stood next to Lydia. We both watched as she walked towards the window and climbed out onto the roof, doing a double flip onto the grass. Lydia's eyes widened when mine rolled. Show off.

''8 years gymnastics, are you coming?'' She whisper shouts from the ground.

''Yeah, I'll take the stairs'' Lydia speaks, allowing me to go past her to also hop out the window too.

''You're not going flip down too, are you?'' Lydia asks.

''I prefer a more subtle approach'' With this I walked over to the edge and bent down. I reached for the guttering and gripped, pulling my body off and then let go, swiftly landing on the ground with no stumble. I wiped my hands against my jeans.

''Let's go''

~*~*~*~*

My date was going horrible. The guy found an excuse to put his hands on body every five seconds. He even had the nerve to show me how to bowl when I already knew how to. He made me lose, big time.

On the other hand I was happy for my sister though. Her and Scott seemed to be having a good time despite Jackson practically being a dick to them the whole night. Once it was my date's turn to bowl again I quickly moved to sit beside Allison. She looked at me slightly worried.

''Are you okay?'' she asked, leaning in to me so that Scott couldn't overhear our conversation.

''Yeah, I'm fine, dickwad over here keep trying to touch me every five seconds though'' Allison softly laughed at the nickname I used but quickly became serious once again.

''It's whatever, let's talk about you'' I quickly threw this conversation onto Allison. I wiggled my eyebrows at her as she began to blush.

''Your date seems to be going extremely well'' She blushed more.

''It has been... one of the greatest dates I've ever been on'' My eyes widen with happiness. I was about to squeal in excitement for her but she quickly hushed me.

''It's not a big deal'' She mumbles.

''It's a huge deal! I am so happy for you Ally'' I lean in and hug her, the both of us smiling. I pull away and glance at her.

''God I envy you, sis'' She looks at me weirdly before I continue.

''You got this whole.. guy think down pat. I've tried since we came here but... all I'm finding is-'' I was cut off by the sound of my date hollering as he scored a strike. Jackson went up and petted him on the back, the both of them doing a bro hand shake thing that was too over the top. I turned around back to Allison in disgust.

''That'' Allison laughs softy.

''I could have set you up with a really great guy'' My eyes brighten at this.

''Who?''

''Scott's best friend'' My eyebrows furrow together in confusion. Allison looks at me as if I had grown two heads.

''You know, the brown haired, skinny guy who is always with Scott...'' She trails off, looking at my expression to see if anything clicks. Nothing.

''He drives a jeep...'' I shake my head.

''He's sarcastic and always staring at you?'' Still, nothing.

''He has brown eyes-'' My eyes widen in realization.

''Oh, you mean cutie?'' I asked. Allison looked at me weirdly.

''Stiles'' She says, leaving me very confused.

''What the hell is a Stiles?''

♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦♡♦

word count: 3393 edited; not yet

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#love #romance #fanfiction #imagines #stiles stilinski #avery argent #dylan o'brien #nina dobrev #teenwolf #donttellstiles

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purelypeaky · 5 years

Text

Then and Now

You didn’t know what to think when your childhood friend Henry Johnson disappeared. On a business trip to Birmingham with your father a few years later, you run into him again and reminisce about the past in more ways than one.

Michael Gray x reader

Warnings: lots of fluff, things get a little hot and heavy

Masterlist

(gif credit to the glorious @peakyblindersgifs)

You couldn’t believe it when he walked in.

Trying to pass time in the waiting area of Shelby Company Limited was boring you to death. Your father had stepped back into Tommy Shelby’s office, leaving you to watch the secretary tap away at her typewriter. You sighed and were letting your mind wander when the door pushed open and a young man strode over to the secretary’s desk.

You recognized him immediately. Henry was your closest childhood friend, your teenage partner in crime, and eventually your first kiss. Of everyone in your hometown, you were the most baffled when he left. But there he was, just a few feet away and already leaving you breathless.

“Henry?” you said hesitantly, standing up and smoothing out your dress.

He turned, his brows knitted with confusion that disappeared as soon as he saw you. “Y\N, is that you?”

Dropping his papers on the desk, he immediately crossed the room and crushed you into a hug. You loved having him in your arms again and how tightly he held on, as if trying to make up for the few years gone by. When you pulled back again his hands slid to your waist and you stayed there, gazing at each other a moment too long. His green eyes were as bright as you remembered. Finally you both snapped out of it and Henry cleared his throat, though the smile never left his lips.

“I can’t believe it’s you, Y\N. What are you doing here?”

“My father’s going into business with Tommy Shelby and he let me tag along. I’d never been to Birmingham before. It has...quite the scenery,” you said with a grimace, making both of you laugh. “But what are you doing here, Henry? Do you work for the company?”

“It’s actually Michael now,” he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Michael?”

He took your hand like he’d done hundreds of times before, ready to lead you on another adventure. “C’mon, I’ll explain.”

Before you could make it to the door leading to the offices, the secretary piped up. “Michael, Tommy wanted you to --”

“It’s alright, Lizzie. Tell Tommy I’m in a meeting, too.” He gave a mischievous grin that you knew well and squeezed your hand for emphasis.

He pulled you down the hallway of offices and came to a stop in front of one that was right outside of Tommy Shelby’s. You barely heard your father’s muffled voice because you were more focused on the door that read Michael Gray, Chief Accountant.

“Michael...” you mulled, then raised an eyebrow at the man beside you. “Am I just supposed to call you Michael now?”

“I think so, yeah.”

You gave a sly grin. “I don’t hate it.”

Michael nodded proudly and led you into the office, where you were in awe of the lavish furnishings. But before you could explore the all of the knicknacks and picture frames, he made you sit down and let him explain everything that had happened. Tommy visiting, finding out about his real family, running away to Birmingham and becoming part of the family business, all of it.

You listened intently, trying to keep an open mind, but by the end your heart was as heavy as when he first left. You looked down at your lap and tried to find the right words but none came. Only when Michael took your hand in both of his did you meet his gaze again.

“I didn’t want to leave you,” he murmured, swirling his thumb on your skin, “but I needed to be here. Doing this with my family.”

You nodded earnestly. “I know. I know you hated it there, Henr...Michael. You always dreamed of getting out. And here you are,” you added, waving a hand at the room.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, here I am. You want to look around now?”

You both stood up at the same time and found yourselves a little too close together. After nearly bumping noses, you laughed it off and stepped back. Michael walked around to sit at his desk and you finally noticed how his suits were sharper, he carried himself a little taller, and he looked like he belonged behind that desk. Your Henry that climbed trees and played muddy games of football with the other little boys was gone.

He was grown now.

You shook your head and turned to survey the rest of the room in all its glory. Stacks of papers and certificates were held down by paperweights, pens were discarded next to a teapot, and you ran your fingertips along the spines of all the old and new books on the shelves. A few framed photographs depicted his cousin’s wedding party and the woman he’d pointed out as his real mother. You took it all in with a gentle smile.

Then an intricate ceramic box on one of the shelves caught your eye and you looked at Michael for permission.

He was watching you amusedly. “Go on.”

It was heavier than you expected but you held it tightly, opening it to find tiny flowers painted on the inside. The flowers and leaves reminded you of gardens back home and you wondered if Michael kept it for that reason.

“It’s beautiful.”

He smiled and pulled out a cigarette. “A little old lady gave that to me because I convinced Tommy to not burn down her son’s pub. Bad for business, you know.”

After safely returning the box to its spot you set your sights back on Michael with a smirk. You crossed the room to his side of the desk and hoisted yourself up, just out of reach of his crossed legs.

“Listen to you, ‘bad for business’,” you giggled. Then you plucked the cigarette from his mouth and took a drag. “You smoke these now?”

“Sometimes. Do you?”

When stifling your cough didn’t work, you just put out the cig in the ashtray. “Sometimes.”

That had both of you laughing again and then you trailed off when you looked out of the office window into the foggy Birmingham sky. It was quiet for a moment too long while you worked up the courage for your next question.

“Do you ever miss home?”

Michael lifted his eyes to to find you still looking away. “I think about you sometimes.”

Your heart bottomed out and you wrung your hands in your lap but couldn’t meet his gaze. It would give you too much hope. “You do?”

“Of course I do.” He stood up and rounded in front of you, waiting with a gentle smile until you looked at him. “We had a lot of fun when we were kids. I didn’t know any other girl who could drive her mother as crazy as I did mine. And when we were older...”

He trailed off, unsure of breaching the subject. But you encouraged him by resting a hand on his chest and he leaned into your touch, stepping closer until he was between your legs. He glanced around your face as if trying to re-memorize every inch and let his fingers brush your cheek. Your breath caught at his close proximity and your gaze unconsciously dipped to his lips when he spoke again.

“Well, things weren’t so bad when we were older, either. That’s what I remember most.”

That was all the prompting either of you needed and you met in the middle for a tentative kiss. It was a gentle test of the waters and Michael rested his forehead to yours in the wake, but only for a moment. The water was just fine and both of you dove in.

His open mouth slid against yours passionately and your arms wrapped around to seal his body to you. All of the tension and uncertainty melted away at his touch and you let yourself get lost in the moment and in the feel of Michael’s hands smoothing down your sides. You flashed back to the few other times he’d kissed you but this was the best yet, proven by his strong mouth capturing yours again and again. He even chased your lips when you tried to break the kiss, stealing one more before he let you speak.

You played with the hair at the nape of his neck, still panting. “Can they see us through the glass?”

“Do you care?” Michael countered with a smirk. There was that reckless streak you missed.

Clasping your hands, he tugged you with him until he sat in his chair and you straddled his lap. Your chest flushed with heat at the precarious position but you loved having Michael under you again and could feel him already growing hard. His grip settled at your waist and he watched you hungrily, sending that heat from your chest rushing down to your core.

His mouth was on you again in a flash, kissing you like no time was lost between now and your younger days in the countryside. It was playful and eager and he toyed with your tongue to make you laugh and god you’d missed smiling into him. Your hands raked from his hair to his shoulders, anything to pull him impossibly closer.

You had just started fumbling with his waistcoat buttons when a door slammed down the hall. After leaping off of Michael’s lap, both of you stared at his office door with baited breath. But nobody came.

“That was close,” you whispered childishly.

“Couldn’t have your father finding us again, hm?”

The two of you shared a smile and started fixing your disheveled appearances. You tugged your dress back into place and watched as Michael straightened out his suit. He cocked his head at you when he caught you staring.

“Do you like it?” He made a show of fiddling with his cufflinks.

“I really do.”

He noticed your change in tone and nearly melted under your heavy-lidded gaze. You wanted to tell him exactly how you’d let him take off each layer of his clothes and yours, but voices from down the hall dragged you back to reality once again.

Michael sighed. “We should probably get back to them.”

You nodded and let him open the door before sauntering past, relishing in how he nearly groaned just watching your hips swing. Just like good old days. But you were only a few steps down the hall when he caught your hand and turned you toward him.

“How long are you in town?” he asked earnestly.

“Two days. Then it’s back home.” You smiled sadly, cupping his cheek. “But we’re staying in a hotel up the road. Maybe we could go out tonight? You could show me all of Birmingham.”

With a kiss and a squeeze to your hand, he promised just that. Then the two of you continued down the hall walking a few paces apart so that no one would suspect anything. You found your father and Tommy Shelby still talking out front.

“Ah, Y\N, the secretary told me you were acquainting yourself with Mr. Shelby’s accountant,” your father called, waving you over to him.

“You remember Henry?” you answered, linking your arm with Michael’s. “It’s a long story, but he’s working for Mr. Shelby now.”

Michael shook your father’s hand and they began chatting. You noticed Tommy Shelby watching you curiously and he pulled out a cigarette just like Michael had earlier. Apparently he really was related to the Shelbys.

Tommy stepped closer to speak to you, nonchalantly puffing smoke into the wind. “I hear from Lizzie that you reacquainted yourself with Michael rather well, Miss Y\L\N. She takes advantage of the thin office walls.”

Your eyes blew wide and you tried to stumble around an answer. “Mr. Shelby, sir, I don’t know --”

“Don’t worry, that’s no business of mine. What is my business is giving Michael the day off tomorrow.”

At that moment Michael glanced at you with a smile before turning back to the conversation with your father. Your heart swelled and you nodded resolutely.

“That would be lovely, Mr. Shelby. Thank you.”

#peaky blinders #michael gray #michael gray x reader #michael gray imagine #peaky blinders imagine #michael gray oneshot #peaky blinders oneshot #not sorry for using the cig trope again #i just really like it #also tommy is 100% on the Get Michael A Fuck Buddy train

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puppy-the-mask · 4 years

Text

Serval of Bone

No editing, we die like idiots

ok light editing

When you woke up things had been… Well they’d been a doozy. One minute you were being administered the cure and the next?

Next you woke up to the world re-forming after what the apocalypse had done to it. It wasn’t anywhere near the place it had been before the 3 year hell, you remember the times before the outbreak- when monsters had escaped the underground and been met with resistance. Now they were humanity’s saviors.

They had been the ones to take the lead in stabilizing and uniting the people, the ones who developed the cure. Sadly it wasn’t making it’s way to you and your people fast enough, the only cure you could get in a timely manner turned out to have been from an amature mage that had bitten off more than they could chew. It reacted with your soul and sent you into a coma,( the effects were different for each soul trait it had been used on. You have a friend in a suped up new-age asylum cause of that shit.). Then Once you got the monster cure it took 5 years to combat the janky cure and fix your zombification, but they had given up long before that point and thrown you into a tomb.

You shuttered at the memories, the feeling of maggots crawling around your ribcage and getting squashed between your hip joint and femur when you’d tried to walk, picking them out of your MANDIBLE

Eugh- fuckin maggots. You’d seen some shit during those 3 years but that had to have been your least favorite part of it all.

So now you were a skeleton, probably through some cure-virus-magic-meshing bullfuckery. And you’d think that was cool But It’s NOT!

After snagging your old clothes from the exhibits (the police and memorial staff were Not happy about that- but it’s their fault for thinking you were dead and propping up your things!) you’d discovered that talking without vocal cords was MUCH harder than one would think. But also surprisingly possible??? Also that basically all of your prior physical ailments, human and zombie, were gone. Who knew the way to fixing the inability to feel was to get rid of your nerves entirely?!

But more about your voice! Apparently it liked being difficult and only worked if you spoke in an accent, which didn’t make any sense BECAUSE IT STILL SOUNDED THE SAME IT ALWAYS DID WHEN IT CAME OUT. And of course, to top it off you had to borderline Shout as well! Apparently it was some weird font thing that had manifested as a side effect of becoming a fucking living skeleton

Ooooh and the real heart breaker, You can’t eat. Any food you have goes right through you, not even a taste and oop! Now you gotta change your clothes! Oh but your sense of smell works just fine. Also your tears!

You had tried getting a job at a Cafe and had to quit because it got to the point that just smelling the amazing desserts and drinks had you almost bawling the moment you walked in. So now you worked at a bookstore Monday through Thursday and as a bodyguard Fridays and weekends.

With you dead your social life too did follow, all your old compatriots in the Zombie Rehab Squad having long moved on to more social issues or rebuilding their own lives. So you’d decided to start a new one, a life that is, with a new name and everything!

Now you were Serval, your font’s name- which you discovered was the only thing you could write in, and fit you in an odd sort of way? Which was confusing but what wasn’t at this point?

Like right now, you were being contracted for a diplomatic escort. Apparently the Monster Mascots were traveling out to the more rural areas to see what life was like where the zombies ran amuck. Because even an apocalypse can’t kill racism. You and other zombie guards were apparently being brought on to replace the royal guard as a sign of good will while they meet with the ZRS head and learned more about the zombie’s side of things.

Which while it was a nice gesture you didn’t see how your side would be much different than theirs? People got infected, some went rabid some could be saved, other survivors didn’t even know we were dead already half the time, then we were cured and now it's over. But at the same time, the other survivors didn’t have to worry about getting caught, having someone fuss over your wound only to realize your hand is cold and pulseless, having to run while they waste their precious bullets on you, trying desperately to keep yourself from rotting or getting too injured for a cure to be of any use.

You shook off the memories and re-read the paragraph you were on. It was pretty standard, the only thing was that you’d have to work on mondays, wednesdays, and thursdays once they got here. Guess I'll text Scarf about not being able to work the bookstore for a bit. You didn’t really need to be there, it was more you hanging out reading with the store owner Scarf behind the counter while waiting for someone to come in. Currency systems in the outlands had collapsed some time ago so working was just a way to pass the time and keep from going stir-crazy.

You sighed and signed the contract, standing and leaving once all the formalities were over with. Pulling out your phone, you sent Scarf a text.

Lich: Hey, Just signed for a job with the incoming mascots, only gonna have Wednesdays free to work with you when they come to town

Booknerd: oh really? bummer

Booknerd: was planning on reading ~The Alchemist~

Lich: Boring school one or fantasy one?

Booknerd: It’s Not Boring!!! >:(

*Lich changed Booknerd’s name to NoTalkMe*

NoTalkMe: >:O!!!

You snickered as you put the phone away. You’d have to do some laundry when you got home to have enough formal wear, uuugh, you also had a bar gig tonight. You’re already regretting your choices.

At least the bar let you wear your old gear

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Laundry took longer to scrub and leave out than you’d expected, so you’d gotten to the bar late, and boy was it something when you got there!

Donned in your signature patchwork cloak you’d strutted in, ready to apologize to the owner, when there was already a commotion. One of the regulars had had a bit too much.

“Whaddya mean yer nt servul???” oh stars was he looking for you? You sighed out, mouthing multiple curses, and pinched between your sockets, promptly walking over to the drunkard and dragging him out by the back of his shirt.

The man’s head whipped between you and the poor person he was harassing before he went slack in your grip, still being dragged across the floor “Mebe ‘ve had bit toooo mush to drenk.” yeah no shit sherlock. You just huffed at him and shook your head

Stars it smelled so good in here, you had to wipe away some drool- playing it off as a face palm- all while thinking about how unfair it was that your could drool but not eat, and what this place’s fries must taste like.

After standing with him outside the establishment and calling someone to pick their idiot up, you returned to the barkeep. You knew the little scene earlier was enough to let them know you’d shown up but you wanted to make sure, for professionalism's sake... Oh man you could smell the seasonings, thank goodness your cloak shades your face in this lighting!

You had just made it to the bar when the owner piped up from the kitchen window. “We know yer here Serv, dramatic entrance and all. Feel free to come inside if you get tired of standing by the door all night!” You sent them a nod and made your way back outside, still trying to stave off dreams of decent food and oblivious to the two skeletons at the bar who started asking about you.

#Serval of Bone #Serval #Writing #tw; maggots #only mentioned but still gross #yall i went from 'serval has no friends' to 'knows the regulars and has nicknames with Scarf'#if you can name the references then kudos to you!#UT!AU

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