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hpalways · 3 years

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Commissions || Childe

UNPREDICTABLE people were like magnets to you, somehow always managing to show up. Usually, you would avoid them at any given chance, preventing further interactions from occurring. As an adventurer, you didn't work for the thrill, but rather for the money. That meant that deep inside, you longed for a peaceful life, which was the main reason why there were certain beings that shouldn't exist in your reality. So how did it go oh-so-terrible with Tartaglia?

You first met Tartaglia -- also known as Childe -- in Liyue Harbor when you were at a stall to buy food. You had a few commissions in tail, waiting to be resolved for the day. But first, food was on your mind. It wouldn't do any good to fight hilichurls and whatnot with an empty stomach. As you were about to dig into your trouser's pockets to find any mora, a man stepped up in front of you, blocking the way. Assuming that he was budging you in line, you opened your mouth to protest, but the words faltered to come out when the male whirled around to face you.

Deep, blue eyes stared into your soul, twinkling mischievously... and somehow, you couldn't read into them. Fiery, orange hair accompanied his features, going unexpectedly well with the blue. Smiling at you crookedly, he saluted you with a gloved hand. A red mask was adorned on the side of his head, matching the red details on his overall gray outfit. He was very tall and attractive -- taking you momentarily off guard.

"I'll pay for your meal. My treat," he easily told you, making a show of flashing the lump of mora in his hands. He even went as far as to swing his arm around your shoulders like the two of you were friends. The warm, close contact nearly caused you to freeze in place, getting flustered all over. What the hell was happening?

"Oh... sure," you uttered, staring blankly at him. Well, there was no use turning him down. The word treat was enough to hook and wheel you in.

"What's your name?" he inquired in a friendly manner, lugging you along as if you were a ragged doll through the waiting line.

Hesitating to answer for a second, you were beginning to look stupid under his expecting gaze. There was a reason though: you were wary of strangers, having learned that the hard way when you encountered Treasure Hoarders one time. But seeing how amused this man was by your internal debate, you pushed the doubts away and decided to go for it. "I'm [Y/N]. You?"

"Lovely name befitting for a lovely person," he mused, leaving you embarrassed. "I'm Childe."

It was then your turn to order. Letting his arm around you go, he straightened up and nudged you ahead. The warmth evaporated from you and you suddenly wished for his touch again. Horrified by your thoughts, you brushed them away and stepped up to the front, telling the chef your order.

Once that was done with and the food was received, you sat down at a table outside. Three whole dishes filled of food, you wasted no time to dive into them, the steamy aroma wafting into the air. Mouthful of food, you almost choked when you found the so-called Childe sitting down in front of you. Coughing for a good minute or two, you suffered as he watched you in enjoyment. When you could catch your breath, you averted your gaze to the table. Oh god, you wished you could bury yourself before you could humiliate yourself any further. He shouldn't have followed you here.

"I'm surprised you bought three whole dishes for yourself," he pointed out, taking delight in teasing you.

You scowled and looked at him, the shameful emotion fading away. "Are you insinuating something?" you asked, squinting at him. He rose his brows in surprise, quickly shaking his head to explain he meant no harm. Sighing, you decided to go all out then. If he already knew your name, what difference would it make to share a few more things about yourself? Besides, this was Liyue Harbor we're talking about; no one was that desperate to seek out trouble so publicly. "I'm an adventurer and I also do commissions. Fighting takes up a lot of my energy, so only one meal wouldn't suffice."

Something swirled in his eyes -- unknown and still just as unreadable. However, you paid no mind to it, too absorbed by the food and the conversation to notice. Maybe this was where it went wrong. "An adventurer?" he echoed, his voice breathless. His ears seemingly perked up and he leaned forward in his seat, anxious to hear more. "What would you say if I tagged along with you today?"

It was shocking to hear that, but eventually, you accepted his self-invitation and brought him along to the locations. Setting off by foot, the two of continued onward with full bellies and enough energy to last several hours. The land stretched for miles and miles, scaping the grounds of hills, mountains, rivers, and meadows. Hogs ran through the trees and birds soared in the skies. Monsters rolled around in the dust, waiting to ambush anybody in the way. The sun beating down upon your backs and the weather a little too warm for liking, it was a difficult trek, but nothing close to impossible for an adventurer.

The fighting began when the destination to a pack of hilichurls appeared on sight. Unsheathing your blade, you immediately attacked them, continuously slashing away until they were entirely cleaned up. Breathing heavily with sweat beading your forehead, you did all the dirty work as Childe inspected from the side, his eye following your every move.

It wasn't easy though. You struggled at some areas, sometimes missing them or getting slightly injured by their own weapons. It was sloppy and flawed, for you were not a skilled swordsman, born without the talent and money. Anyway, it didn't matter much; as long as you did the job, that was what mattered.

The next one took place near the mountains. Insuring that a wagon would be delivered somewhere safely, you had to fend off more monsters, circling around the large transport tirelessly to prevent any damage. While you were doing so, the orange haired male lounged on top of the-said wagon, relaxed and watching the battle beneath him.

Afterwards, it was of simple commissions, with no sword involved. On the last one and feeding ducks for a little kid you accidentally offended, you let out a yawn, ready to go home and sleep everything off. Your partner for the day was also there, crouching down beside the lake's bank, tossing the wheat to the little creatures. Turning his head to the side, he gave you a small smile. Unlike you, he was widely awake and full of energy -- you expected that much, considering he didn't do anything to help you.

"I enjoyed traveling around with you today, [Y/N]," he said, straightening himself up until he returned to being taller than you.

Minus the part where he was completely useless to you, you couldn't help but admit that it was enjoyable to have him him around. His cheery persona helped to distract you from your dislike with the job, filling the silence with easy discussion about basically anything. "It was fun... I suppose," you responded, letting out yet another yawn.

"You know, you could've asked me help. It would've been less straining for you," he pointed out.

You swerved your head at the mention of this, flabbergasted with your mouth hung open like a gaping fish. "You can fight?!" You shot up from where you sat, stepping up to a half-laughing, half-scared Childe. He nodded slowly and you rubbed your eyes harshly, curses running through your head. "And you didn't think to tell me that until now?"

He shrugged, drinking in your angered expression. No ounce of remorse shown in his features, he was pleased to get a rise out of you. Goddammit, this guy was going to be the death of you. "You never asked."

Not replying to him, you faced the other way and crossed your arms, brooding like a kid after a tantrum.

"Aw, don't be mad at me," he cooed, petting your [h/c] head endearingly. "Hey, are you thinking of improving your swordsmanship?"

Originally planning to give him the silent treatment, you could barely even hold on to the promise for a minute. His question intrigued you and you began to wonder why he was asking you something like that. "No, not really," you answered.

"Why not?"

"It's not necessary. My level is adequate for the commissions I take on. It's not like I'm striving to be anything legendary... that's just asking for a death sentence."

His forehead furrowed and a darkened gaze was aimed at you. He seemed to want to say a lot of things, yet couldn't find the words to them. Was he... mad at you for some unknown reason? Almost expecting a big lecture from him, you were shocked to hear what he said instead. "You have potential though."

That was where you parted from Tartaglia that young evening, but by no means was that the last time you were to see him.

You would run into him at Liyue Harbor, in Mondstadt, or sometimes in your travels as an adventurer. Each time you would welcome him warmly, always glad to have his company. He was seriously growing on you, become a friend that distracted you from the hardships of the cold reality. He brightened the atmosphere wherever he went, always the charismatic type, wooing anyone with a tip of a smile.

Of course, you knew he was a Harbringer; he never made a show of hiding it, so you were acknowledged of this pretty much immediately. Hearing the gossip and rumors of the Fatui, you understood that the organization was hella sketchy, but it didn't shine a bad light on Childe at all. You wanted to put your hopes in him, to give him the benefit of doubt. He was helpful so far and your life was peaceful with him around -- which was the one thing you wished for.

Or maybe it was because you had fallen for him already.

At least for the first month or so, everything passed through wonderfully. The two of you were like partners in crime, back to back and supportive of the other. The amount times you would stroll through the meadows and just talk to the man was becoming countless. It began to be something you were looking forward to: to have the time to get to know him even better, from his family to the simplest of facts about him.

It was too good to be true. As the saying goes, nothing lasts forever.

You should have never lowered your guard down. Not when you were found laying on the grimy grounds of a domain, beaten and bloodied. Not when the man you supposedly loved was towering in front of you, his deep blue eyes glowering in lust for violence. Not when your peaceful life was shattered to pieces. Childe couldn't control it any longer that day. He wanted to battle you out, to cause chaos and havoc. Why? You didn't understand... he was your friend. This wasn't what friends do. Nonetheless, he was serious about this declaration.

He spat at the ground, annoyed you didn't put up a greater fight. Not at all worried about your wounds, he paced around the chamber, pulling at his messy locks. "Didn't I say you had potential?! You should've tried harder."

You soon lost consciousness, too exhausted and pained to do anything else. The next time you awoken, you were in Mondstadt, getting healed by Barbara. Tartaglia was no where to be seen, as he ran off earlier without telling anyone of his whereabouts. That was the last time you saw him for a while...

Everything that happened was the past, occurring a few months ago. And here you were, in the present, back to the same life you had before meeting Childe. You still disliked the same things, whether that'd be fighting, unpredictable people, or your job. Day after day, you worked to gain money for a living, hating every moment of it. It was so normal that sometimes you wondered if you may have imagined the certain Fatui man up.

Walking through the mountainous parts of Liyue, you were on a hunt for resources. Hoping to stumble upon a mine and get done with the work as soon as possible, it was unfortunate that the weather hated you.

Droplets fell from the sky and the clouds darkened the world. Rain thrummed against the earth, soaking your clothes within a few minutes. They stuck to your skin, turning uncomfortable and cold. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you quickened your pace, desperate to find shelter for the time being. Shit, shit, shit. You hated the life of an adventurer so much--

Too blurry to watch where you were going, you hit a hard surface in front of you. Rather than a hard surface, it was actually a person. Squinting and wiping the droplets from your eyes, you cringed when you saw who it was. It was the one and only Childe, looking the same as always.

Wet orange locks somehow making him more attractive than he already was, he was as soaked as you were. The clothes defined his body and you frantically stopped yourself staring at it any further.

"[Y/N]," he breathed out, looking unsure. The sound of his voice snapped you back to life and fury filled the pits of your stomach. Seething in spot, the hands at your sides clenched tightly. He had taken your trust and ruined it -- he was nothing but a fucking bastard.

He took a few steps forward, growing nearer, his blue beautiful hues full of regret. You hated that he dared show himself up, wearing that damn look as if you would ever forgive him. Pulling your hand back without thinking, you laid it across his cheek, harsh at the contact. He touched his red cheek in awe, lowering his head in shame.

"I deserved that," he whispered, smiling at you sadly.

"You do," you muttered.

Despite how angry you were at him, there was this twisted desire to kiss him. Feelings were confusing, always making a situation more complicated than it should be.

Leaning forward, you locked lips with his. His body had stiffened in bewilderment, but he soon returned the kiss, wrapping his steady arms around yourself. Digging your fingers into his hair, you sighed in between breaths and listened to your racing heart. He tasted like salt and the soil beneath you. He was the definition of unpredictable, but you couldn't get enough of him. He brought destruction in the paths he walked on and had the continuous yearning for war. He was everything you were not and you hated him for it.

His lips trailed away from your own, peppering kisses on your jawline, causing you to gulp. He was swallowing you whole, taking in everything about you to memorize. His touch was intoxicating, the finger tips leaving a mark on your tender skin. "Let's never see each other again after this," you told him. He didn't respond as he continued to bruise your neck. "I hate you, Childe. I fucking hate you, you bastard."

Tears welled out of your eyes, mixing together with the tears from the gods, unable to be distinguished.

He lifted his head and gave you one last long kiss. Your insides were this close to bursting, butterflies fluttering horrendously like a beast within you. Soft lashes flitted and he stared at you with understanding. He was going to listen to your wish; he would never show himself up again.

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straw-of-the-hat · 3 years

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I love Kit's and Izuku's friendship. They're my BROTP. So could I bother you to write some headcanons based on their friendship and the shenanigans they get into?

Kit and Izuku shenanigans

These headcanons belong to this story!

✨ Let me just start out by saying they've definitely committed arson.

✨ Kit is the only reason Izuku had any confidence and if anything ever happens to him Izuku is probably going to shrivel up like a piece of month old broccoli and never move again.

✨Tenya is deathly afraid of leaving Kit and Izuku alone together but can't do much considering how close they live to each other. He's never considered himself religious, but by god does that boy pray everytime he sends those two off on their own.

✨Kit somehow managed to get into a fist fight at least once a week on their way home but Izuku has learned to just sit back and watch it go down rather than try and intervene.

✨They both chill at the Midoriya apartment all the time and talk about theoretical plans to overthrow the hero commission and revamp it from the inside.

✨Izuku has written "adopted by All Might" fanfiction and yes Kit knows and will forever hold it over his head. He's printed out four copies and has sent it to fifteen different emails.

✨They try to start a quirkless mafia but it's literally not working and Kit is irrationally angry because most of Japan's quirkless population is made up of old people. Old people with knee problems. As the mafia, they should be the ones causing the knee problems, not experiencing them!

✨Izuku is inspired and decides he absolutely must know how to seduce people. Kit forces Tenya into his demonstration and Izuku has like, half a notebook worth of notes.

✨He practices on Katsuki, naturally. Kit is all for it because Katsuki always comes home looking like he just got blasted in the face with a stream of ice water: shivering, flushed cheeks, wide eyes. It's fucking hilarious.

✨ They're low-key constantly insulting each other. Like all the time. And yet their self-esteem never stops growing? How can they be putting each other down and lifting each other up at he same time it doesn't make sense. Quirkless unity?

✨Kit tried—really, honest to fuck tried—to get Izuku into anything other than one of his weird shirts labeled "pants" or "flannel". He made a gargantuan effort and it just didn't work. Izuku could be a fashion icon if he just let the shirts go. He could be on the runway, and Kit is in agony.

✨They DIYed their own Tenya shirts to irritate him because what else are they supposed to do if not annoy him? They also run an Iida family Stan account on Twitter and worship Tensei like he's some sort of saint. Which I mean, he may as well be.

✨Izuku has never had alcohol so they dressed Denise up in their stolen Endeavor costume and sent him in to go illegally purchase them whatever the nomu could get his hands on. It was white claw but they made do.

✨Izuku starts a blog about Kit and Tenya's relationship and Kit knows this yet can't find a way to permanently delete it. It just pops back up and Izuku rags on them publicly for their PDA. It's brutal. The commenters are so cutthroat.

✨They stole a minivan once because Izuku used his pay to buy a rare, life-sized All Might statue off of eBay and they had no way to transport it. Where did Izuku even learn how to hotwire?

✨Denise does have a crush on the statue and they're not going to tell All Might this nor are they going to do anything about it. It's comedic relief at it's finest. Plus Inko really enjoys setting up fake dates for the statue and Denise because it makes the Nomu so impossibly happy. Who are they to get in the way of that?

✨They make a Chad shrine in every public bathroom they find and there's sort of a thing about it on Reddit that's slowly growing in size. I.E., they accidentally made Chad his own cult. They're both too afraid to tell Tenya.

✨They bully Katsuki on purpose and it's so fun. He gets so scared. Kit is already teaching Izuku how to take him down in a one on one fight without a quirk and by the time Izuku gets to UA he will be unstoppable.

✨They like to dress Luis the Chihuahua up in little outfits and post them on the Instagram he made for them. They're both way too invested in it. It's a miracle that dog isn't dead with own old and decrepit it is, honestly.

✨They have six different secret handshakes and they all mean different things.

✨Kit is GOING to give Izuku a haircut one day soon, even if he has to knock him out to get it done.

✨Why does Kit literally make Izuku livid what the fuck. Izuku used to be fine. Docile, if you will. Now he's just irritated and drenched in sarcasm that he can't stop from pouring out. Yet he also adores him. Where is the line and when did they cross it?

✨ Izuku's still too afraid to ask for ketchup at a restaurant. That's what Kit is for, Izuku supposes.

✨Izuku writes down any kink Kit alludes to ever for the sole purpose of later shaming him. Oh, and giving Tenya a heads up. Poor guy has no idea what's going on.

✨ They kill it at dance dance revolution

✨Kit is always trying to hook Izuku up with anyone hot they come across. He just knows Izuku would thrive in a relationship.

✨ He's sort of eyeing Shoto Todoroki for the role, actually. He and Izuku would be cute, right?

✨Izuku knows all of Kits passwords and sometimes breaks into his Instagram just to screenshot all the thirst messages the other boy gets and sends them to Tenya. Tenya gets so offended and Kit is left to deal with the aftermath. Absolutely hilarious.

✨Izuku knows how to disarm pretty much any type of bomb you can think of and teaches Kit all he knows. In return, Kit takes him to a casino and shows him the ways of poker

✨Kit is really good at poker and that makes people made and yes they are now running for their lives

✨Izuku always carries a pair of emergency shoes for Kit even though he knows they'll just be lost. Better safe than sorry.

✨Kit, in parallel, has a variety of fidget toys hidden on his person at any given time in case Izuku finds himself feeling anxious

✨Kit once sat on Izuku's shoulders and they wore a really longe trench coat to break into Best Jeanist's main fashion department building to steal his runway plans so they could know what they were up against

✨They outclassed him in every imaginable way

✨Izuku literally dissociates anytime Kit opens his mouth to talk about Tenya. He doesn't want to know. TMI. Time out. No.

✨Kit dared Izuku to go up to Endeavor in disguise during his patrol and pretend to ask for an autograph and instead knee him in the balls.

✨Izuku's chosen disguise was a full sonic the hedgehog costume and he did in fact knee endeavor in the crotch. And yes, it's a meme now

✨ They have an Endeavor hate chant

✨Izuku really wants to add All Might merch to the Suzuko line and Kit just thinks he's a nerd and a suck up. All might is already his teacher and now he wants designer clothes with his face on it? Too far, man. Too far.

✨They have matching jeans that they definitely didn't steal when they broke into Jeanist's fashion depot.

✨Overall they're an unstoppable and rather irritating force to be reckoned with and will stop at nothing to wreck havoc, much to Tenya's disdain.

#bnha #fanfic #mha #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #boku no hero academia tenya #tenya iida #touya todoroki #bnha oc #wattpad

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minisoysquares · 3 years

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As fun as the events and ideas you posted about 19days would be, wouldn’t it also just bring in more negative stuff - like fandom in general has become a field of land mines and I fear that something that’s supposed to fun will turn into some sort of battle. Like how some people get extremely heated over any other ships outside of their fave ship and they cannot possibly have other ships except theirs, etc. The last thing anyone wants is for content creators to be targeted simply for making something they thought would be fun

(This ask and answer is about this post.)

First of all thank you so much for addressing such a big and valid concern. I agree that that has indeed happened in certain fandoms - I can say I've been in the thick of it and witnessed quite the warfare - but in others it has also brought fans and readers and content creators together even closer and tighter in a wonderful thriving community.

I have the feeling this'll get quite long so please proceed under the cut with that in mind.

I believe all things are potential harbingers of both discord and harmony. There will always be people who feel entitled and who want - even demand! the audacity! - authors and artists to create for their ships and their ships alone. And there will also always be people who can appreciate the writing and the art without judgemental treatment regarding the pairings/characters depicted, no matter their preferences.

All of that happens and will continue to happen, whether we go forward with these events or not. And yet authors will still write what they want to write, artists will still draw what they want to draw, graphic designers will still make the edits they want to make as well. What we could do, in this small and close knit fandom, is take in our hands this powerful rich opportunity and try our best to make a model of positivity out of it.

In these events, there would be no bashing or shaming allowed. The content created would be to be enjoyed by those who are attracted to it, and those who do not have a taste for that fanwork in particular would be asked to remain respectful. (As it should always be.) There would be no ship wars in these spaces. Discourse, hate-speech or anti-behaviour would not be tolerated by the moderators of the event.

Creators who indulged in it would be immediately disqualified. Any unnecessary commentary or complaints from the audience would be deleted and reported as spam. Anyone instigating conflict would be only painting a target on their back, really. Because most of us - I dare say - are only here to appreciate the brilliant artwork and fanfiction woven and crafted by the talented people who share it with us.

If it came to it and it escalated, this hellsite has several tools that can be put to use to that regard. Accounts could be blocked and/or even reported. They wouldn't be able to interact with the blogs created to run these events from then on. We would be able to create a black list and post it publicly so everyone else who wished to could simply block those unruly pesky accounts and remain at peace and free to enjoy themselves to their utmost.

Let us not forget that this is all fiction and it's all for fun. Everyone's allowed to have their own opinion, likes and dislikes. There simply is no need to step on anyone else and their interests to elevate them.

Let's exemplify, for the sake of clarity:

Do I personally ship A with B? Imagine I do not. I do not search for it. If I come across it? I scroll past it. Once or twice, I may even like - and even reblog - if it happens to catch my attention and it's well written/drawn! (I have tags along the lines of 'I don't ship it but' and 'look at this beautiful art' or 'drown in the power of these words.')

It's so easy to interact amongst ourselves without coming with pitchforks at one another. Know what actually needs effort? Being a meanie and a party popper! Who in their right mind wastes their time on things they don't care for? Dum dums, that's who! Of course, we're all dummies at times... and that's okay! Let's just not harass people or crash their fun while we're at it!

If nothing else: you wouldn't like if others did this or that to you, therefore don't do it to others. It's a simple concept to grasp.

Very important: in these events, every single piece would be explicitly and properly tagged and warned for right at the very top of each post, so there would be absolutely no excuses for anyone being nasty.

We would just have to be open to the experience. Enjoy our ships and let other enjoy theirs. We do not have to all like the same thing. That would be just boring. But we can cohabitate devoid of trouble in fandom. Each one of us just has to be respectful. No need to even be nice. No one has to compliment something they don't like. They also don't have to step on what others do.

Don't like a ship/character/theme? Don't read stories focused on it. Don't put down authors who write it or readers who enjoy it. Same for art. No need to shout about how awful it is just for the simple reason that it does not fit into your personal shipping preferences. It can still be still be a tasty and wonderfully baked cake, it's just that you're not fond of vanilla or strawberries. It's okay. There are all kinds of cake for everyone's tastes!

Further examples: If a ship happens to be a NOTP for me or I don't care for the character(s)? I filter the tags. All of them. Any and every tag I can think of. It's very easy to protect ourselves on Tumblr from content we do not wish to see. (My own list is huge and just as effective.) Filtering is incredibly important.

So go ahead and filter out the ships you can do without! Filter out porte-manteaux like Tianshan, Zhanyi, Qiucheng, Tianxi, Tianyi, Lishan, Litian, Liyi, Shantou, Polydays, (...) Filter out any ship tag that doesn't strike your fancy like Q x MGS, HC x JY's mom, (...) Filter out characters that aren't your cuppa tea like HT, HT's dad, SL, JY's mom, XH, (...)

Make it safe for yourself and for others. That way you won't rage at the sight of your NOTP, won't feel the compulsive need to trash the people who ship it, no one is hurt and everyone is happy!

There are many steps we could follow to prevent rotten eggs in our coop. And many more actions we could take to throw them out if need be. I firmly believe, however, that if we're all of the same mind everything would go well and with very few bumps along the way.

If we only ever feared the possible negative consequences of our actions, never taking the risk for the possible positive ones, we'd never get anything done. I say let's not let our beloved fandom stagnate or dry out. Let's incentivate and motivate and inspire! Let's share! Let's have fun!

Think of it in these terms: it wouldn't be a competition at all but rather a charity event. Performers and spectators coming together for a common good, raising content and spreading joy! There would be no winners or losers or prizes. What would matter would be good old-fashioned participation, both by providing content and/or consuming it.

It could also a good way to get people to express themselves more. Many content consumers tend to lurk or keep to themselves even if they like the content posts. (I used to be one myself and only a couple months ago started to come out of my shell.) I myself advocate for reblogging instead of liking - if you have to choose one or the other, I mean, why not do both? - and leaving a word on every single post I like and/or reblog. Sometimes I go nuts commenting, sometimes I leave a small note in the tags.

It doesn't matter how. Even if you're shy or introverted (*raises hand*) or don't know what to say I guarantee a single emoticon or a string of disordered letters symbolising incoherence will make the creator's day all the same. Getting feedback is so important and motivational for creators and also a great way for fandom members to keep in touch and support each other.

Additionally, if a person would like more of a certain type of content here are some healthy actions they could take: a) commission a creator and pay for it if they can; b) politely make a suggestion to a creator with an open ask box; c) post a prompt publicly for possible interested creators to use; d) do it yourself and share it with others!

This turned out into more of a "behavioural guidelines" thing than I'd have liked. I am not in any way whatsoever telling anyone what to do. This is what I do, and it works wonders for me. I stay completely out of toxic arguments and in on all the goodies. I'm able to fully enjoy my fandoms. And isn't that what we all want?

Thank you again for sharing your thoughts with me. And I apologise for the long rant!

Of course, this is only my personal stance on the issue. I did go for a survey first exactly for this end, to get their opinions on the subject and see if it would be worth a shot. I shall hope many other people will think as I do, but I will wholly respect those who don't.

#answered asks #19 tian #19天 #19 days #old先 #old xian #zhanyi #qiucheng #tianshan #jian yi #zhan zheng xi #he cheng #qiu #brother qiu #he tian #mo guan shan #she li #cun tou #xiao hui

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fan-written · 3 years

Text

The Mission

Day 28, Distress

Warnings: Angst, discussion of cheating, and a breakup.

Seriously, there is no happy ending, so if that’s what you want don’t read!!!!! Also, forgive me if it isn’t quite that good. This was my angst practice that I decided to tie into Daminette December. @daminette-december2019-2020

"No."

"Mari, really." Damian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's just a mission. It will be over before you know it. I should even get time off afterwards to go on that vacation you wanted." He reached for her, trying to reassure her that it was fine.

She grimaced and leaned away from his touch. "Sure, just a mission. One where you pretend to cheat on me, then we publicly break up, only for you to begin formally dating your mistress." She stood and began pacing. Her hands waved through the air punctuating each word. "All the while I'll be hiding out in a safe house where you'll come and visit me whenever you can get away. Oh and let's not forget this mark is one Lila Rossi. The same Lila Rossi that tried to ruin my life and almost got me killed."

Marinette spun towards him and smiled stiffly. "Did I misunderstand anything, Dear?"

If he'd had less control over his body, Damian would have flinched at her sneer.

"Habiti," she frowned, "please. It shouldn't last long. We just need to know who has been smuggling the artifacts into the country. Some of them are magical in nature so we need to be proactive about it. Rossi is their public face and we need to get close to her."

“And it couldn’t be one of the unattached men on your team? Or elsewhere within the Justice League? You know, someone who isn’t living with their partner? Who hasn’t had several long conversations about marriage!? I thought you were going to propose, Wayne, not break up with me!”

Damian jumped to his feet at the use of his last name. Marinette hadn’t called him that since they’d started dating. “Pretend. Pretend to break up, Marinette. We would still be together, just not in public.”

Marinette walked around their coffee table as she spoke, making sure to keep it between them. It wouldn’t help much if this fight became physical, but it would leave enough time for her to transform. Damian could see a red Kwami floating nearby and he knew the others would be on standby as well.

“So I’d become the Mistress in hiding? You'd have me waiting patiently for you to return to me whenever you have a free moment to spare. Nothing more than a trinket for your amusement. All while watching you gallivant around with a harpy and manipulator who holds a grudge against me.” He scowled and clenched his fists. She wasn’t listening to him. “That hit last night must have scrambled your brain if you think for one second I’d be-”

“ENOUGH!”

She flinched and Damian regretted yelling at her for half a second. Adrien hadn’t been the most kind to her near the end of their relationship. But he needed her to understand that this was important. These artifacts in the wrong hands would be devastating. They needed to get to Rossi, and quickly, and he was the best one for the job.

“I am the one doing this mission because of your history with her!” His voice was quieter than before, but he struggled keeping it that way. Then again, Marinette always brought his emotions to the surface. “We know she would do almost anything to try and ruin you so I am the perfect candidate. She is more likely to bring me into her confidence quicker than anyone else because she will believe she can cause damage to you through me.”

"Lila would have you put me in a tower just to keep me out of sight. If she had access to gloat over me, even better!" Her voice matched his intensity, "But I've already saved myself from one tower. Another wouldn't stop me." She paused, defiance in every line of her body, asking him to hear her.

Damian searched her face, trying to understand what she was thinking. Instead her normally open gaze was shuttered and her face blank. He could only find a sliver of icy anger in her blue eyes. Finally she scoffed and turned away to look at the ground. Tikki landed on her shoulder and patted her cheek. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When she looked back up he still couldn’t tell what her thoughts were, but she was calm.

“I can’t stop you from taking this case.” She spoke softly. She wasn’t pleading, but it was a close thing. “I’ve never tried because I know what they mean to you. But just this once I’m going to ask you to not do this. You’ve only read about her, but I know her. She will use you and your resources to get further ahead. She will worm her way into the deepest recesses of your mind and make you believe things you know aren’t true. And if she doesn’t then she will twist you back into a version Ra's would be proud of. I don’t want to see you become a shell of yourself. I’m not sure I could. Please don’t take this case.”

The silence was deafening. They stared at each other until Marinette looked away. She had pleaded her case even though she already knew the answer.

"I am heading to the Watchtower to let them know I accept the mission. I'll see you when I get back."

Damian turned and picked up his jacket from the back of the couch. He figured she wouldn't say anything else and began to walk swiftly towards the door.

"I won't be here when you get back." He cast a glance back to find her watching him. Her voice rang with promise, almost too loud after the fight. "If you walk through that door now, there won't be anything pretend about our break up."

He sighed and shook his head. "You're just upset. We both are. We can talk about it later when we both have clearer heads." And with that, he left her standing in their living room listening to the click of the door shutting behind him.

---

She hadn't been there, but he expected as much.

The visit to the Tower had taken longer than he'd expected and he'd come home far too early in the morning for any sensible person.

He noticed immediately that some of her things were missing, but nothing extreme. Just a bag of clothes, necessities, and the miracle box. Her sketchbooks were still in the bookcase and her most recent commission was still on the mannequin. She would be back and they would figure it out.

Two weeks later and Damian was beyond frustrated with her and her refusal to return to the apartment. He knew she was still seen entering it since there had been no scandal in the paper, but never when he was there. They'd only met in public, with other people around, making it impossible for them to discuss anything related to his mission or their relationship.

He was in the middle of sparring with Dick, struggling to pull his punches for such a friendly spar. He was angry, but he didn't want to let on that something was bothering him. He hadn't told his family about the mission yet, but he knew he'd have to before he and Marinette staged their break up.

Not to mention he'd officially met Rossi that morning. She felt just as slimy and greasy as Marinette had made her sound.

"What's up Little D? You seem distracted today," Dick asked when they stopped for water.

He took a long draw from his bottle to buy extra time to answer. He probably should have expected Dick to pick up on his distress. "Nothing much." He sighed and looked away. He should tell them, but, not now. Later. "Marinette and I are having a disagreement is all. You know how busy this time of year is for her so we haven't had a chance to actually discuss it yet."

It wasn't quite a lie. She always had an off season fashion show to showcase her students work and give them the feel of managing their own line. But she had always made time to spend a meal with him at least. And they had. However, instead of home cooked meals they hadn't had anything more private than lunch at a busy restaurant since he left the house that day.

"That's tough." Damian couldn't stand the sympathy on Dick's face and scowled. He wasn't going to feel guilty for taking this mission. "Do you want to trade patrol shifts? I have tomorrow off at the precinct so I don't mind working tonight so you can talk to Nettie."

It wasn't a bad idea. Marinette knew his shifts so she would likely avoid him until the next time Oracle made up the patrol schedule.

"Sure," he said with a short nod. "Thanks Richard."

---

Damian had expected to surprise Marinette and finally make her talk to him. Instead he was shocked to find the apartment empty and an envelope with his name sitting on the counter.

Damian,

I love you.

I expected to spend the rest of my life with you, but this is something I draw the line at. I have spent the last two weeks trying to understand why you have to be the one doing this, and while you may get results faster, it's at the cost of my emotions and trust. The cost of our relationship.

You left me, Damian, in the middle of our home to go accept a mission asking you to cheat on me. I tried to get over it, but I like to think I am worth more than that.

I'll make appearances, be a dutiful girlfriend until the breakup, but that's it. That's all I'm doing for this mission of yours.

Lila Rossi has taken so much from me, but I refuse to let her take my dignity and self worth. Even if you and I are the only ones who know it.

Goodbye Damian al Ghul-Wayne. I wish you all the luck in the world.

Marinette

Damian reread her letter. And again.

A third time had him rushing to their bedroom. The sound of paper being crushed faint behind the beat of his heart.

Gone. Everything was gone. Her plants, half the pictures, even the cat pillow she refused to give up.

Gone.

Only a handful of clothes and toiletries were left. Enough that when the official breakup happened she would look like she was moving out.

She was gone and he knew she wasn't coming back. Even if he stepped away from this mission now, she wouldn't return to him.

There was one thing she'd always told him she had trouble fixing once broken. And he had promised her he wouldn't forget. Promised he wouldn't shatter her the same way they had. But he'd forgotten.

He'd forgotten how fragile her trust was.

---

It had taken longer than he thought, but it was over. Lila, no she was Rossi once again, had been more paranoid than they had thought.

But they had been correct in assuming she would take to Damian the quickest. Whether it was because he was a Wayne, or because he had been dating Marinette they couldn't be sure. But eventually she chose him.

Damian scrubbed his skin raw for hopefully the last time. Rossi had just been taken in by the Justice League and he planned on never seeing her again. He was sure he would feel her hands on him for far longer.

His apartment was too quiet, he thought as he climbed out of the scalding water. It always was these days. No Marinette sewing or baking. No Kwami fighting over the remote. Not even himself lately, flipping through a book in all the chaos.

He missed her. Her passion. Her fierceness. Her sense of justice. Occasionally he had the chance to watch her take down a thug three times her size while wearing whatever gem she chose that night. Occasionally he lost his breath in awe and gained a new bruise for it.

He missed her quiet. Her peace. Her strength. The papers weren't kind to either of them when they staged the breakup. It had happened earlier than he wanted, but all of Gotham could tell something was wearing on their Sunshine. They were even more invasive when she moved out. But Marinette had simply strut out as a modern version of Princess Diana, with her head high. The crowds parted before her without a single question asked.

He had walked out a week later with Lila on his arm and a glare in his eye. They failed to make the front page much to Lila's ire and his secret glee. Marinette had, in her gorgeous dress and new haircut. Damian would have begged to run his hand through the shiny strands if they had seen each other in that first week.

He missed her nervousness. Her dramatics. Her chaos. She had held her student show two weeks after their breakup and he knew exactly what had been happening backstage. Only this time her usual panic attack would be handled by her students. The freakout at the sound booth would be calmed only after listening to the technician give her another rundown of the show.

And when she walked down the runway in her traditional, single contribution to the show he was blown away. A whirlwind of fabrics and color left the entire audience gaping. She had created a wedding dress out of scraps from all of her students' lines. She was forests of greens and blues, mountains of grays and browns, and sunsets of pinks and oranges. She was hurricanes, tsunamis, and earthquakes. It was creation and destruction, a beginning and end. A power. And yet it was delicate and oh so feminine, even with the torn edges of a runaway bride. She had been chaos and order and the world loved it.

Papers were arguing if it had been inspired by her recent breakup. The elite were whispering about who she'd been seen with. Any unattached bachelor or bachelorette were vying for her attention at every charity and gala. She merely floated through leaving a broken heart in every chest.

But what Damian really missed was her kindness. Her friendship. Her love. The way she smiled when he walked in the door. The blanket she used to drape over their laps while they watched a movie. How she looked for him first after a round with the Rogues.

She didn't do that anymore. Her smile became a nod in his direction. That blanket was now shared with Cass, or Tim, or Duke. Even Jason would get to share with her on the few times he showed up to family movie night. He still caught her looking for him first, but it was only out of habit now.

Damian almost resented his family. She was good friends with all of them. She ran patrols with them. She trusted them, more than him. But he couldn't. They were his only chance to be near her. To see her relaxed, away from the public eye. The way she used to be with him.

---

"Your partner should be here any minute, Black Cardinal."

Damian nodded at Wonder Woman and leaned back in his seat. He pondered over who it could be. It had been over a year since the end of the Rossi case and some of his family still hadn't fully forgiven him for taking it. He understood. He couldn't quite forgive himself either.

They may have caused more than one problem for the Justice League. It often led to fights when they were paired. If not, then it was miscommunication problems between them. One unwilling to fully trust the other.

He knew it couldn't be Red Robin. Last time they both ended up in the hospital for injuries they gave to each other. That happened when Damian learned that Tim had actually been working up the courage to ask Marinette out the same night he had. A small part of Tim hated Damian for taking that chance first and then throwing it away.

Red Hood was a hard no when it would be just the two of them. Jason apparently took Marinette in for the first few weeks of The Mission. He saw the aftermath of Damian's decision and Damian couldn't help the bitter jealousy he felt when he saw the other. Their meetings were never pretty. Or quiet.

Maybe it was Spoiler? Stephanie may have raged at him when she first found out, but she always put it aside when they had work.

A flash of red in his peripheral pulled him out of his thoughts. He quickly stood to look fully at the newcomer walking in and couldn't help but gape.

Her style had changed since he had last seen her. She was darker now, finally matching the shadows of her city. Beautiful embroidery detailed the red spots on the black Hanfu robe top. The sash at her waist was a dark red that matched her leggings. It wasn't traditional, but it was practical. He knew she must have felt some pride in showing a part of her heritage.

In the end he could only think one thing. Ladybug was beautiful.

Damian continued to stare and was shocked to notice the bottom of the robe split in half and fluttered like wings. He could faintly remember reading that that only happened when beetles were agitated, but that wasn't important.

She was in front of him, in uniform. She was going to be his partner for this mission. She was here.

"-ill you be okay working with him?"

They had been talking. She had spoken and he wasn't paying attention. What did Diana ask? Oh, that.

Damian tried not to hold his breath while she studied him. He had changed too. She had been right that Rossi would twist him; He was deadlier, less caring about accidental casualties.

But she was blank faced again, just like that night. In fact it was better than before. He realized then that he didn't know her anymore. That he would never know her that way again. It twisted his stomach and made his chest ache in a now familiar pain.

And then she spoke and his heart split again.

"It's fine, Wonder Woman. I know I can always trust Black Cardinal to complete a mission."

#maribat #daminette #daminette december #angst #no happy ending #my try at angst #Co's one shot works

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collinnmckinley · 2 years

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So I've been thinking about opening up requests again until I get a call from the job I applied (hopefully I get the call). In the mean time I wanna be more creative as I'm legit losing my touch.

So if you need/want a new profile, an edit or a gif set of a certain video game. Please check out this post of mine.

So if you wanna support me and get yourself a set please send the request via ask publicly so i can reply to you privately and negotiate what and how you want the request. If things are settled you can move to the donation page to proceed with the request. (I dont have gold membership in ko-fi yet, so this is the only way i can follow up a request)

I am also open to doing regular requests (send a private ask requesting what you want and I'll see if i can do it or decline if im not doing any content for that game). Again these are not commission, it looks like commission but I am more flexible than not. But I will only be doing gifs and icons only if the content media is provided publicly.

#jay talks #my kofi #requests #The payable requests are totally optional.

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solesurvivorpaigeargot · 3 years

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A Special Announcement: Introducing Monthly Subscriber Perks [BIG POST!]

Hey there Sketchy Friends, Followers, and Fans!

As you may know, I was recently agonizing over what perks I could offer to anyone who wanted to support me on a monthly basis via Ko-fi. There were a lot of suggestions from everyone, ranging from special commission slots to mystery-box sticker packs to be mailed out every month, and while some of these have been filed in the 'Maybe in the future' pile, I wanted to focus on ideas that

1 -- I KNEW I could execute on; stayed within skills I already had, and wouldn't need to do a lot of extra research for. 2 -- Wouldn't make excessive extra demands on my time; I'm already running myself pretty hard week to week between my online presence and being a homebody in meat space-- I can't put 100% into the community and still have energy leftover to make meals/take care of myself/look after my home. It just doesn't work that way. 3 -- Wouldn't have me making promises I couldn't keep; while this is kinda point 1 again, it's worth stressing. I didn't want to promise anything I couldn't deliver on and lose the trust of the community. It's just bad form.

With all of this in mind. I have come to a decision.

Starting in April, I will be recording all Sketchy Saturday sketches so it is possible to turn them into time lapse/speed paint videos.

Monthly subscribers will get 1 [ONE] sketch of their choice turned into a Time Lapse video per month, WITH A PERSONAL MESSAGE FROM ME IN THE OPENING.

If you'd like to know more about how this works on the nuts-and-bolts level, please keep reading! This cut is here to save people's dash from my long news posts XD

ANY amount at or above 1$ USD per month qualifies for this perk.

The personal message can be from me to you, or a specific dedication you'd like me to make to someone you know. I can also put it at the end of the video, if you'd prefer.

Monthly subs can request ANY sketch to be made into a video, not just ones they specifically requested.

Donators can get extra requests per 10$ they pledge per month-- so if you're donating 1$ USD a month, you're entitled to 1 video request per month. If you're donating 11$, you're entitled to 2, 21$ a month, entitled to 3, ect.

I will be keeping track of these requests-- both earned and used, via yet another one of my spreadsheets which will be publicly viewable, tracked with whatever screen name you're using on Ko-Fi.

If I start my monthly subscription to you NOW, will I earn a request for this month?

YES! I just haven't recorded any of the sketches so far this month, so you won't be able to use them till April.

Do unused video requests roll over?

Yes, but only month-to-month. You can collect video request credits all year long, but at 12:01 AM on January 1st, US Pacific Time, everything resets to zero. I'll be sending out messages on December 20th to remind people of remaining request credits they have, so monthly subscribers don't get screwed on their perks.

This includes if you support me for a few months, but then cancel your subscription-- you KEEP your earned video requests until you USE them, or the NEW YEAR rolls over.

Will you be mentioning the person who requested the video on that video?

Yes, in the video title, calling them the 'Sponsor' of the video, unless that person otherwise specifies that they'd like not to be named.

Can I request ANYTHING in the personal message?

Yes, so long as it is not in any way hateful or harmful. If you wanna use my platform to be an asshole, I don't want your money.

Should a message be deemed to be hateful or harmful after it has already been published, I may take the video down and re-upload it without the dedication. I take all responsibility for the messages uploaded onto my platform, and will apologize for any harm caused-- irregardless of its source. Video request credits may be given back to the requester on a case-by-case basis, after an investigation on how knowledgeable they were about the message being harmful. If it was an accident, the credit will be given back to be used again. If the harm was purposeful, the requester will be blocked and all their request credits considered invalid.

Where will the videos be posted?

YouTube! I already have an account all set up. The account has zero intent on being part of the Partners Program or seeking monetization-- it's simply a display space.

Will these videos be public?

YES! Your monthly donations and requests will be building up a whole new catalog of content for the whole community to enjoy!

Can the video I requested be made private?

Only until a specific date-- like you wanted to surprise a friend on their birthday, or [heaven help me] your dedication has a marriage proposal or baby announcement in it and you'd like the release of the video to be part of the event. I will not make a video permanently private and only provide links to the requester-- I will not fence content away from the community for money, I have an ethical issue with that.

Can I request the video have specific music?

Only if it's not going to set off the copyright bot on Youtube. Otherwise, I have a MASSIVE library of music that I can use from when I used to make time-lapse videos all the time, all sourced from the website OCremix.org -- they're remixes of video game music, kinda like Fanfiction.net but ONLY for games and SPECIFICALLY for transformative works of music. Tracks from that site don't trip the copyright bots, and I always link back to the original OCRemix video so peeps who like the track can check out the person who made it.

If you send me a track to use, you need to provide me with a download. Not a link to a youtube video for me to rip from. An actual, already downloaded and tested MP3, or the link to the page from which to download said MP3, legally.

No. Pirated. Music.

THAT SAID!! If you MADE a track, and want me to use it, I am 9000% down. Hell yes. Just nothing longer than 4 minutes-- short time lapse videos don't do well with long tracks.

I have a question that wasn't addressed here!??

Well, my friend, that's what the ask box is for :3 Hit me up, and I'll do my best to clarify whatever you'd like to know.

#Ko-fi updates #monthly subscriber perks #QandA #Sketchy Saturday

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angelinasway · 3 years

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Regaining Hope

Pairing: Clark Kent/Buffy Summers

Warnings/Triggers:Torture, Violence, Mention's of Major Character Death, Bad Language, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut

Summary: Takes place during Man of Steel. When Buffy discovers the U.S Military trying to keep quiet about an object buried in a twenty thousand year old glacier, she immediately thinks the worst. However, when a surprise visit to the Canadian Arctic puts her in the path of a mysterious stranger her whole world is changed forever.

[TTH] [AO3] [FFN]

Authors Notes: I should first say that this takes place about eight and a half years after the first arc of the Season 8 Buffy Comics, however I’m only using aspects of cannon. The back story will not follow the comics as you will be able to see pretty quickly in this chapter. Secondly, I actually really do love Lois so please don’t bash me for being self-indulgent by wanting to see my two favorite Superheroes get together. I can promise you all that there will be no Lois bashing in this fic. Thirdly, as far as Clark’s story goes it follows Man Of Steel so if you’ve seen the movie you know his story. Thanks for giving this a chance I hope you all enjoy reading. Also thank you to my wonderful beta Hipkarma for giving this chapter a look for me. Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. Chapter One

Buffy lurched as the helicopter made touchdown onto the ice. She closed her eyes briefly, mentally preparing herself for what was sure to be a battle of wills between her and one Colonel Hardy. She hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting him yet, but just by his photo she could tell he was going to be a pain in the ass. There wasn’t much love lost between the Watchers Council and the U.S military. Not since Maggie Walsh and the Initiative, and certainly not since General Voll. The Governments of the world as a whole always seemed to have a really bad habit of sticking their noses in things they just didn't understand, hence why she was here in the freezing Canadian Arctic in the first place. Willow had created a program that had been monitoring all military chatter since Voll decided to commandeer Amy and a skinlessly resurrected Warren to attack the W.C. Headquarters in Scotland. That had been almost ten years ago, and since then Buffy had been dealing with countless other countries attempting to harness power or create weapons out of a force that they just didn’t seem to understand could never be controlled. The U.S however, had managed to keep their noses pretty clean since General Voll, even going as far as to work with her and ask for her help when needed. That’s why it was such a surprise to find out that they had found something buried in the snow that predated civilization and were trying to keep it under wraps. Especially from the W.C. And to make matters worse, she was just coming off a week-long mission from hell. Just last week she caught Russia restarting their subspecies research facility and when the shit had finally hit the fan, she had been forced to send in a team resulting in the deaths of two of her girls. After that, she and Wesley had spent the next day getting a hold of the girl’s families, which of course left her holding a big-ol-bag of guilt and the nightmares and sleepless nights to go along with it. So, to say she was cranky and pissed to hear about the U.S. keeping stuff from her would have been an understatement. She was furious! However, she was also willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe this actually wasn’t her jurisdiction. The Helicopter door slid open pulling her from her mental preparation. She blinked when her eyes met a pair of startlingly brilliant blues, surrounded by a handsomely rugged face, and scruffy beard. A green baseball cap adorned his head, hiding what she assumed from the few strands that were messily poking out of the brim was hair so brown it was almost black. He was probably somewhere in his mid-twenties, though on second inspection his eyes held the maturity of someone closer to her age. “Here let me help you.” He said loudly, so his voice could be heard over the whirling of the propeller and the grind of the engine. He held out a large gloved hand as she undid her seat belt and stood on unsteady legs. Her own gloved hand reaching for the strangers. As soon as her hand touched his however, she gasped, almost recoiling in fear, her inner Slayer rearing her head at the sudden sensation of power. And wow, was it powerful. She had never sensed anything like what was behind this man’s strong grip in all her years of slaying. It didn’t feel mystical in nature and it certainly wasn’t demonic. It was almost foreign, as if it didn’t belong here. Strength knew strength however, no matter where it originated from and her Slayer sensed him with a voraciousness that she had never experienced before. She felt a bit light headed and weak kneed by the sensation, and she had to shake her head to clear it of the roaring in her ears. Her eyes shot to his, widening in bewilderment and for a split second he had the look of a dear caught in the headlights. It was gone the next instant though, and a mask of a charmingly shy and unassuming guy replaced it. ‘Quick reflexes then, and someone who’s used to hiding in plain sight.’ The look worked well on him and she admired the quick cover. Only someone who had been living a double life could pull off a cover like that. Regardless of her admiration though, she needed to know if this guy was a threat or not. Especially with the way her Slayer was chomping at the bit and her heart pounding in her ears. So, she squeezed his hand slightly harder than she’d ever dare on someone human, just to let him know he wasn’t the only one standing there that was something other. It had the desired effect, though the fact that he didn’t wince was a little unnerving. His eyes shot to hers as she passed him, an innocent mixture of awe, curiosity, and fear burning in his irises. She knew then. He was no threat to her. The eyes were the windows to the soul and there was no doubt this man or whatever he was, had one. Plus, there was no way anyone could pull off a look that full of innocence if they had nefarious intentions. She removed her hand, breaking the overstimulation to her senses. She tried her best to cover what she had just felt by giving him a brilliant smile and winking conspiratorially. “Normally I would be worried about anyone carrying my bags considering how heavy they are, but something tells me it’s not gonna be a problem with you.” “Buffy Summers?” A new voice asked, distracting her from her assessment of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Muscular. She turned to meet the kind eyes of another man not much older than herself. "Hi." She said in greeting, reaching her hand out to shake. "Jed Eubanks, Arctic Cargo, nice to finally meet you, Miss Summers." Buffy raised an eyebrow in surprise, side eyeing Mr. Powerful for any reaction. "You heard of me?" She asked, watching the stranger’s reaction. When all she got was a look of curiosity and befuddlement her hackles finally lowered enough to completely believe that whatever or whoever he was didn’t have to do with her being here. Eubanks grinned, commanding her full attention as he said, “Little more than that, I was stationed in Afghanistan about five years ago. My chopper went down near Baghaln.” Buffy winced. “I remember that, a terrorist organization had commissioned hellhounds and were feeding their hostages to them.” “Saw you fighting that day.” He nodded. “Never seen anything like it in my life.” He paused, almost as if he was gathering up the courage to continue. “I was next in line you know, if it wasn’t for you and yours, I’d have been dog chow. I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life Miss Summers.” Buffy smiled softly at the man. It had been a while since she’d been thanked so sincerely. She linked her arm with his. “Call me Buffy, I’m sure I’m gonna have Miss Summers shouted at me enough today to give me flashbacks of high school.” Eubanks laughed. “Well, least you know you got one person rooting for you.” Buffy’s eyes traveled back to the mysterious stranger, who had been watching them with rapt attention. Questions, fear, and confusion still simmering in his eyes. She imagined it was very much similar to the look she was giving him, curiosity brimming over like an over flowing stream. She gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, hoping he understood it was her way of saying they would speak later, before she turned back to Jed and plastered on a huge smile. “Now show me where this camp is. The sooner I get this over with, the happier I’ll be.”

******

Clark watched the young blonde woman walk away with Jed, his heart galloping in his chest. She knew. Somehow, she was able to sense he was different. Part of him was horrified at the prospect of her walking into the basecamp below and announcing to the entire camp what and who he was. It was an old fear, one that had guided him and comforted him on cold lonely nights. If he just kept disappearing, no one would ever know the truth. Another part of him however, was beyond curious about her. How could she sense him like that, was she an alien too? When she squeezed his hand earlier it hadn’t hurt, but had he been a normal man it very well may have fractured a bone or two, and he doubted she just went around breaking people’s bones for the fun of it. No, she had definitely been testing his strength, which begged the question, how did she get hers? The military seemed to know her pretty well however, and even Jed himself had encountered her five years ago in Afghanistan. Which almost seemed impossible, because she really didn’t look much older than twenty-two. God, she was beautiful though, with those bright green eyes that looked older and far more tired than someone her age should be allowed to be. She was just the kind of girl he would have only dreamed of asking out when he was younger. He shook his head, finally forcing his eyes away from her retreating form, but keeping his hearing locked on her until he was sure he wouldn’t have to make a sudden and quick exit. He reached for the two duffle bags she brought with her, the first one pretty light and obviously full of clothes and toiletries. The second one however, was quite heavy and when he heard the sound of metal clanging against metal, he did a quick scan of the items in her bag and almost recoiled in shock. It was like a medieval arsenal in there, three sharp looking swords, a wicked looking red and silver axe, six daggers, four sharp looking wooden stakes, two flasks filled with some type of fluid, a cross, two pistols, a shotgun, and a pair of night vision goggles. ‘Who is this girl!’

******

“Colonel Hardy I presume.” Buffy said with a saccharine smile, holding out her hand to shake. Not at all surprised when he didn’t return the greeting. She then turned to the elderly gentlemen to his right. Her smile softening in recognition. “Dr. Hamilton, how many times do we have to run into each other before I can convince you to ditch these macho elitists and come work for me.” “Miss Summers, always a pleasure.” He said with an amused smile, side eyeing Hardy’s annoyed frown. “I wasn’t aware that you had clearance for this project?” Colonel Hardy said a little too arrogantly. Buffy’s smile grew, oh she was going to love putting this man in his place. “Oh, you wouldn’t, orders went through about,” She looked at her watch. “thirty minutes ago. You should probably be getting a call from General Swanwick any minute now.” Just as predicted, a young soldier came through the door the next second and Buffy couldn’t help the smug smile that crossed her lips. "Sir, General Swanwick is on SATCOM." It was immediate. The look of self-assurance morphed into pure annoyance within the span of mere seconds, and it was worth every bit of discomfort she was sure to receive in the next few days of her stay. Sure enough, Hardy did not disappoint. He excused himself and as he passed the officer he said, "Please ready Miss Summers accommodations and make sure they're as sparse as possible." Buffy chuckled in amusement, looking at Dr. Hamilton with a conspiratorial twinkle. "If he thinks making me crap in a bucket is gonna offend my delicate sensibility, he's mistaken." The Doctor chuckled, "I wasn't aware you had a delicate bone in your body Miss Summers." She snorted, "I hide it well." Her eyes then traveled to the scientific equipment obviously used for monitoring the anomaly. "So why don't you bring me up to speed on this find of yours, before Hardy comes back and attempts to make my life a living hell." Dr. Hamilton shook his head, leading her over to a computer screen with what looked to be a satellite image. "You do seem to enjoy ruffling their feathers." “Well, what can I say, never been much of a fan of authoritarianism. Also, not exactly easy to trust an entity that’s tried to have you killed more than once.” Buffy said, as she leaned over to get a better look at the dark blob like shape covered by layers of snow and ice. “So, what am I looking at? An Old Ones sarcophagus?” “We don’t believe its demonic in origin.” Dr. Hamilton stated. Buffy frowned in confusion, “But weren’t the samples of ice taken around the object more than twenty thousand years old? If it’s not demonic, what the hell do you think it is?” “A vessel Miss Summers,” Colonel Hardy said, walking back in the room. “A vessel not of this world.” Buffy blinked and turned around. “When you say not of this world, I’m assuming you mean…” Hardy’s smirk was patronizing. “That’s right Miss Summers, extraterrestrials. A spaceship. A topic I might add, that you know absolutely nothing about.” Buffy rolled her eyes, “Oh, as if you do.” “I know more than you Miss Summers.” Hardy responded indignantly. Buffy snorted in derision, her lip curling at this man’s stupidity. “So, what happens if you dig this thing up and you’ve got a violent alien that’s been sleeping in stasis for the last twenty thousand years?” Buffy shook her head. “Furthermore, I’ve seen Alien. What if the aliens inside crash landed on earth because a giant fucking Xenomorph is inside?” “I can assure you Miss Summers we’re taking every…” Buffy threw her arms in the air. Finally losing her patience. It looked like she was the one who was actually going to be doing the yelling today. This was just so typical, as if she didn’t have enough on her plate with Russia and Sudan creating their own Initiative-like secret facilities. “The fuck you are!” She shouted. “See this is the problem with you guys,” she pointed. “This is what happens, this is always what happens!” She started to pace, her fists clenched at her sides, uncaring of the sudden wary looks she was receiving by both Dr. and Colonel, as well as the few other scientists and soldiers in the room. “You discover something…for instance that demons and monsters exist, and instead of just killing it or leaving it the hell alone, you gotta study it, dissect it, see how it works, until eventually you’re trying to harness its power for yourselves!” She shook her head in disgust, “And do you wanna know who always has to clean up the mess? Me,” She pressed her fist against her chest, “It’s always me.” Her voice softened then, a sigh whistling between her teeth as her eyes locked on both a flabbergasted Dr. Hamilton and Colonel Hardy. Okay, maybe she went a little to far there. It wasn’t exactly fair to blame them for the previous week. “It’s not…If I was only dealing with this kinda stuff once in a while I wouldn’t be so cranky. I apologise for insinuating anything about anyone in this room.” She shook her head. “It’s just every single country on earth has their fingers in the demonic cesspool one way or another and I’m getting really sick of doing damage control on top of all my other Slayer duties, not to mention the lovely annual apocalypse that never really takes a vacation. Throw aliens in the mix now and the fact that I haven’t slept very well in a week and yeah, Buffy’s stress level just hit a new high.” Colonel Hardy’s disposition seemed to soften slightly at her words and he stepped forward, “I heard about Russia and am very sorry for your loss.” He sighed, “But we aren’t them, Miss Summers. I’m willing to play ball. Please let me be the first to promise, if we find anything that could be deemed even slightly dangerous as far as alien lifeforms go, we will hand it over to you immediately, without question.” She chewed on his words for a moment, figuring this was the best she was going to get as far as cordial cooperation went, and figured she throw out an olive branch so he knew she really wasn’t trying to step on his toes. “Yeah,” Buffy agreed, sighing with a nod. “Yeah, okay. And if it’s really just a ship I have no problem with giving you free rein on any alien technology you find. Just…just do me a favor, don’t make me regret this by killing us all with it.” Hardy cracked a smile then, “Alright Miss Summers, I think I can agree to that.” And surprisingly enough, he held out his hand to make it official.

****

Clark was more than impressed with the young woman who had pretty much wormed her way into his heart without her even knowing it. She was feisty as all hell; he'd heard her entire conversation and had been caught chuckling to himself a few times. Considering how quiet and reserved he normally was, the other guys on the crew were probably thinking he'd gone insane. There were a few things that were talked about that confused him however. Like her speaking about demons and monsters like they exist. Though, considering the fact that he existed, he wasn't all that surprised there could be something out there that was possibly a greater threat than even himself. He was just surprised he'd never run into anything of the sort before, especially considering how long he'd been traveling. Then again, he never really actively sought out situations where he was a savior, those situations usually just kind of found him. Buffy however, spoke as if she had been doing these types of things regularly for years. So much so, that not only was the military aware of her, but they had deemed her a threat on more than one occasion. He could certainly relate to that, for he knew if they had any idea of what he could do, they would do everything in their power to either try and kill him or use him as a weapon. And that was something Clark absolutely refused to have happen. It not only would disgrace his father’s memory, but it would spit on the very sacrifice John Kent made for him. When he was younger, he always thought that the fear his father sometimes wore on his face was because his father was afraid of him. It was one of the things that had led to the words he used the day his dad died. He remembered how frustrated he was that day; his father was being so stubborn about letting him go to college. He remembered thinking it was because his dad wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on him anymore. That he was so afraid of his son hurting someone…that he would never let him leave Smallville. Then that tornado hit, tearing Clark’s entire world to shreds and he was never able to tell his dad he didn’t mean what he said. It was his father��s sacrifice that finally made him realize that all that fear and distrust he saw etched in his dad’s eyes was never directed at Clark at all. His father had always trusted him, it was mankind that he was so afraid of. So, revealing himself to the world was absolutely out of the question. However, for the first time in Clark’s entire life, he felt he might have someone else he could trust enough to confide in. The simple fact that she hadn’t told anyone what she suspected about him was almost enough to make him trust her. The fact that she didn’t want the military to get their hands on an alien, for fear of what they would use it for and the harm it could cause to the human race also helped greatly in making him want to trust her. She was incredibly cautious about how they should go about unearthing the vessel and spoke of bringing in a witch friend of hers to put a ward around it in case there was something dangerous inside. It truly was a sound plan; it would let them be able to open the ship without accidentally releasing some deadly creature or virus by mistake. It’s also the reason he was now changing his plans of waiting a few days before he went in search of the ship. He hadn’t known magic existed until a few minutes ago and he had no idea if he was vulnerable to it or not. He didn’t think so, but he sure as hell wasn’t willing to stick around and find out. As much as he agreed with Buffy’s plan and admired her caution, he knew in his gut that this might be his only opportunity to find out where he came from. Something deep inside of him told him that the answers he sought were on that ship. He dropped the bags off at her trailer after Jed had informed him which belonged to her, noticing how sparse the accommodations were. Just like Colonel Hardy had ordered. There was only a cot, blanket, pillow, space heater, and sure enough in the corner was a bucket and a roll of toilet paper. He shook his head in amusement, apparently this was not the first time she was forced to rough it. He could hear her and Colonel Hardy heading this way, discussing the ship and what other precautions might be taken to ensure that no one would get hurt. On an absolutely and unexpected whim, Clark pulled out the notepad he’d been keeping in the inside pocket of his jacket and wrote down the first thing that popped in his head. He didn’t know what made him do it, and he hoped she didn’t take it the wrong way. The poem was called “I am” by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, and he didn’t really remember the entire thing, but the first verse had stuck with him. He quickly ripped the sheet of paper off the spiral, folding it, and tucking the sheet under her bag where just the edge could be seen. He stuffed the notepad and pen in his back pocket, getting to the door just as they were walking up. Their eyes found each other’s immediately, the intensity of her gaze sending an electric shock up his spine, his heart speeding up. God, those eyes of hers were like the color of the fields around the farm in spring. She raised an eyebrow in question at him but he just smiled politely and held the door open for her and the Colonel to pass as he slid by and down the steps. She followed his gaze and he found himself completely turning and walking backwards a few steps, before forcing himself to break contact and walk away. He was going to go talk to Jed, see if he could learn more about her. Plus, his shift was almost up and twilight was approaching. Soon it would be time.

******

When his gaze broke from hers it was like having a bucket of ice water doused on an over heated system. She stood there watching him walk away, her heart pounding in her chest, a loud rush of air she hadn’t even realized she was holding breaking from her lungs. Her nerves still tingled from the heat she felt in his gaze, and she was startled to realize she hadn’t had a reaction like that to the opposite sex in a very long time. Hell, she wasn’t quite sure she ever had a reaction like that, at least not one she remembered. She shook her head, turning back to the Colonel, only to notice he hadn’t missed the staring contest either. She thought he looked amused, but wasn’t quite sure. “Something I need to know about?” Buffy rolled her eyes, “I’m a red-blooded female. I’m allowed to notice a good-looking man when I see one.” The Colonel hummed, his green eyes accusatorily sizing her up. “Seems like he noticed you too.” Buffy’s eyebrows shot up and she frowned. “What exactly are you implying, Hardy?” “Just making sure you didn’t send a spy in close to gather information.” He answered seriously, eyeing her warily, as if she would do something like that so unnecessarily. She rolled her eyes, laughing at the absurdity of that statement. “Colonel, if I were to do something like that it would only be if I felt I was in danger, and I can guarantee it would be another Slayer and not some well-built, redneck, with puppy eyes. No one but the W.C. and the General knew I was coming, why would I risk the little bit of leeway I knew I would gain by showing up unexpectedly, and ruin it by having a spy already in your midst’s. Please do give me some credit.” Hardy shrugged unapologetically, leaning against the wall, “I still don’t understand how your people figured out about the find when we’ve only known about it for a week.” “Oh, so that’s what this is.” She said, raising an eyebrow and looked around the almost empty trailer. He smirked, “That’s what this is.” She shrugged, it didn’t really matter to her if he knew or not. She wouldn’t be sharing the technology no matter how much he tried to intimidate her. Not that she would actually be able to explain it anyway. “A friend of mine created a program that relies heavily on magic to monitor, decode, translate, and record when certain phrases or words are used in any and all military or government communication around the globe.” The Colonel’s eyes sharpened and she watched as his jaw clenched, a vein popping out on his forehead. “And I don’t suppose you’d be willing to share that little piece of technology would you.” Buffy shook her head, “Absolutely not. I’m not helping you war with other countries.” “And you call yourself some sort of hero.” He said snidely, heavy condemnation in his voice. “Do you have any idea how much something like that could help us?” Buffy froze, her back stiffening at his implications. She turned to him, her lips pursed and eyes as sharp as daggers. “It’s my job Colonel, to protect humanity. All of it.” She said, voice trembling just above a whisper in pure rage. “It is not my job to get involved with petty wars that mean very little when every year there’s some demon who gets the idea in his head to destroy every single one of us.” She pointed to the door, “I think its time for you to go now. Sun’s setting anyway, I hear it can get forty degrees below zero some nights.” Hardy frowned and opened his mouth as if to say more, but decided against it. Instead, he said, “Good night Miss Summers, will speak more about this tomorrow.” She stopped him with a hand on his arm, “No we really won’t. Despite what you may think, I’m not trying to hoard technology so I can be some kinda all-knowing God and rain judgment down on everyone. It’s the whole reason its only designed to pick out key words and phrases. I don’t want to know everything, but magic in the wrong hands is the most dangerous thing on this planet. It’s more dangerous than any demon I’ve ever faced or any God.” She sighed, removing her hand. “Trust me when I say, science will get there, you don’t need magic to move it along.” His frown deepened, before he seemed to sigh in defeat. He nodded once, then left her trailer without a word. Buffy sighed, hoping that was the end of that. She really didn’t want to have to keep explaining herself. She walked over and sunk down on the cot, reaching for the lighter of her bags and pulling out her satellite phone. She called Wesley first, knowing he would be waiting up for her to check in. She gave him a brief description of what had happened so far, leaving out the mystery man for fear of making him worry when he already had so much on his plate. Wesley agreed that Willow should be the one performing the warding spell around the ship, and agreed to make the necessary travel arrangements. Her next phone call was to Willow herself, and she smiled at the cheery voice that picked up. “Is the Arctic as cold as they say?” Buffy chuckled, “Yeah Wills, its pretty cold.” Then added, “But don’t worry, you’ll be experiencing it soon enough.” She could hear the frown on the other end of the phone, before an irritated whine escaped her friend’s lips. “But I don’t wanna go to the Arctic, you know how much I hate the cold.” Buffy chuckled, “Yes, but apparently they think they found a spaceship and we need you and your magical-witchy-talents to make sure no hibernating Xenomorphs escape and wreak havoc amongst the populous.” There was a long still silence, before the expected giddy meltdown on the other side of the phone. She heard a squeal of delight, before several vowels that sounded suspiciously like they should have been words. Buffy chuckled, “Breathe Willow, oxygen is of the good.” There were several panting breaths before, “Gods, Buffy do you know what a find like this could mean for us? The technology alone could help…” “Hold your horses there, Wills.” Buffy interrupted. “I already promised the U.S. that they could have the ship.” “Wait, what?” Willow protested. “Buffy if it hadn’t been for Voll joining up with Amy and Warren, those two would have never gotten powerful enough to join up with…” “I know Willow,” Buffy said, cutting her off before that train of thought could even be realized. “I’m just saying, why should we trust them when they’ve put us through so much?” Willow said, the pain and resentment clear in her voice. Buffy, sighed. “I don’t know Wills; guess I’m just getting more forgiving in my old age.” She paused, hearing Willow sigh sadly and knowing exactly where Willow’s thoughts were taking her. They had all suffered the consequences of General Voll raising Amy and Warren up from annoying nuisances, to actual threat. When they inevitably betrayed him, because that’s what happens when you align yourself with crazy, Amy and Warren had managed to gain enough clout to join up with a recently desouled Angelus, and together they had amassed an army of witches and demons alike. By the time anyone caught wind of what was going on it was already too late. Giles had been the first casualty in the chaos. Buffy freezing up when it happened, unable to even react to what her eyes were processing. Spike had been the one to pull her out, and for months he had been the one to push her to keep going. He had been her rock in that time, an unwavering support system without any expectations of what could possibly be if they made it out alive. Wesley and Illyria had joined the fold shortly after Spike's miraculous return, followed by a severely wounded Charles Gunn and an empath demon named Lorne. Buffy had offered Wesley the Head Watcher position, being too far gone in her grief of losing the man who was more like a father to her than her real dad ever was. However, it was losing Spike three months later that had fully pushed her over the edge. It was the only time in her life that she went completely dark, and it was Angelus who paid and then some. She had never thought herself capable of torture before that moment. Figuring she wouldn't have the stomach for it, but she'd been so very wrong. She had given her Slayer full control, and by the time she was finished with him there had been very little to stake. She remembered hating not just him in that moment, but Angel too. Years of pent-up emotional trauma caused by him leeching out of her as she bled him dry. Hatred and rage boiling inside of her at the fairytale romance they'd so naively convinced each other they had. It was never a fairytale; it had been a nightmare from the start. Even soulless Spike on his worse day would have never tried to break her so thoroughly. Angelus, in essence had succeeded in what he started so many years before. Except, instead of the broken pile of tears he expected would be the outcome of his mental torment, he got the broken primal force of the Slayer in full. He must have realized his mistake somewhere between her cutting out his tongue to shut him up and flaying his skin off the muscle and sinew because when she got to his eyes, they were full of the most potent fear she'd ever seen on a creature such as him. She remembered her Slayer purring in delight at the heady look of horror that was etched on his face, so unlike the arrogant knowingness he'd been giving her for hours. She remembered the feel of his sticky, coagulated blood as it spurted onto her face when she slowly pushed the blade into the brown pupil. The same eyes she had once thought so beautiful. She remembered how it felt to twist the knife until there was nothing left. The only sound Angelus able to make was a gargling, choking, scream. Buffy shook her head, banishing the gruesome memories to the back of her mind. She had disappeared for two years after that, running every few days to make sure no one could find her, too ashamed to face anyone. Wesley had finally found her in that broken-down, abandoned hovel, too weak to keep running. He hadn't asked what happened, he'd simply taken her in his arms and held her. When she had eventually shattered completely, sobbing dry tears, because she was to dehydrated to produce any, Wesley had stroked her back, hushing her. He never once asked what happened, but she suspected he already knew. There was a haunted look in his eyes that told her he had danced that fine line once himself. “Buffy? Buffy are you there?” Willow asked, forcing Buffy out of her memories completely. “Yeah,” Buffy said, shaking her head and blinking several times. “Sorry, what?” “I said, is there anything else I should know?” Willow huffed, a worried edge to her voice. Buffy chewed on her lip for a minute, thinking of her handsome stranger. “Yeah,” She said again. “There’s definitely something else.” She was quiet for a long moment, before finally saying. “Look, I didn’t say anything to Wesley, because he’s dealing with a lot right now, but there’s this guy here and he's...well..." she paused, shivering slightly at the memory of his hand in hers. "He's like uber-powerful." "You mean like Glory and Illyria powerful?" Willow asked, the worry in her voice unmistakable now. "I mean, like take Glory and Illyria, put them in a pot, add a few other Old Ones, stir, and you got this guy." Now Willow sounded downright frightened. "You're kidding? And he's working for the military?" Buffy shook her head even though Willow couldn't see it. "No, he's actually working for the cargo company the military contracted." "Huh?" Willow said in confusion. "Yeah, and here's the thing, he doesn't feel like a demon, or even mystical. It’s almost like..." and that’s when it all began to click into place. Spaceship, uber-powerful guy working as a civilian near said recently discovered spaceship. Power that felt foreign to her, not other worldly, but out of this world. She froze, her eyes landing on a piece of paper tucked under her weapons bag. With a shaky hand she reached down and unfolded it, her eyes scanned the quickly scribbled words on the page. "Willow, I... I gotta go." Buffy said, hanging up before she could hear her friend’s protest. She reached for her weapons bag, unzipped it and pulled out her Scythe. The words of the poem repeating in her head. She thought about changing into her suit, but decided against it. She wasn't sure how much time she had, but the sun had set a while ago and she had a feeling if she didn't leave now, she'd never see her handsome stranger again. She donned her jacket and her beanie, throwing on a backpack already prepacked with survival supplies. She opened the door and ran full speed out into the night. The forgotten poem falling into the snow, the words bleeding out as the slush soaked the paper. 'I know not whence I came, I know not whither I go But the fact stands clear that I am here In this world of pleasure and woe. And out of the mist and murk, Another truth shines plain. It is in my power each day and hour To add to its joy or its pain.'

[Chapter Two]

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varnienne · 3 years

Text

Shattered Reality - Year 1, Part 1

A/N: Finally got around to finish editing this. I know I said I'd work on the Pokemon Crossover project (and I am, concept drawings and the outline are a WIP) but I think it's better I have at least a few different projects to focus on at a time.

That being said, I hope you guys enjoy my story.

TW: brief references to PTSD and grief, I think that's it?

Her eyes snapped open.

Heavy breaths echoed in the room as a scream died in her throat. Soft ticking penetrated the haze first. Moonlight glinted off of the four-star ball. Its familiar energy caressed her aura. Avoca focused on that feeling. Took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She absorbed the soothing blues of her bedroom walls as she kept breathing. Training clothes folded on the nightstand. A picture of her family hanging by the clock. Its glowing hands reading three fifty-seven.

She sighed. No point trying to sleep now. Tossed her covers off and swung her feet around. Avoca grabbed her training clothes as she stood. Started changing, completely dressed when her door opened. She glanced one way. Then the other. No one but her was up. Thankfully.

Trudged her way down the hall and out the front door, steps carefully soft. The deep violets of early morning kept her hidden as she walked across the field. She stopped in front of a rounded door.

“Open, please.” Air hissed out as it unlocked. Slowly, it fell open, turning into a ramp. She tapped the close button as she passed the frame. The second the door resealed, Avoca called out to the system. “Gravity on, level 275.”

She moved into stretches as the weight settled on her body. Deep breath in, an arm raised into an overhead block. Deep breath out, it was slowly switched with a punch from her other hand. She glided through every new movement, aura swirling around her like a gentle tide.

“Increase the gravity to level 290. Training bot level 3,” she called out to the room's control system.

[Commencing…]

Her body became heavier and she tensed all her muscles before relaxing again. One foot slid back and the other moved to the side. Her brother’s feet wavered as she stepped next to him. Set a shaky hand on his shoulder. Her arms rose into a loose block as small orbs floated in. Light swirled through their seams alerting her to their activation. Together they fell into a familiar stance. They could do this. They could end it. She formed a ball of red energy in her hand and smirked. Avoca sent her energy at the nearest bot.

“Give me what your daddy couldn’t.” His aura expanded as the blast grew. “Before I send you home to him.*”

She snarled at the creature. “You’re reign ends now.”

Her blast ricocheted from it onto the others, passing her every chance they could. She let her body take over and forced her mind to fall silent. Years of honed instinct kept her movements fluid as she danced around the blast. The snickering monster was distracted with a blast to his back. Avoca noticed. “Now, brother!” She added another ball to the fray. They gritted their teeth, planted their feet, and forced out everything they had. Another command to the system had the gravity strengthening to 310.

As she created a third energy ball, the door opened. “Avoca-nee?”

She jumped and released the ball as she turned, but the bots took advantage and aimed all three blasts at her. Growling, Avoca twirled, tail unwrapping from her waist to bat them into the walls. She commanded the system to shut off and whirled back to her brother.

“Gohan, you know better than to come in here when I’m in the middle of my routine!” The younger Saiyan chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. Avoca sighed. “Just be careful next time, okay?”

He glanced away and scratched his cheek. Her heart lurched. Gohan looked just like their father doing that. She sighed and asked him why he’d come to get her. “I wanted to make sure you'd have time to get ready for your first day.”

Shit. Had she gotten too caught up in training? It wouldn’t be the first time. “What time is it?”

[The current time is six, twenty-two…] echoed through the room.

“Oh, good. I have time to shower.” The Saiyan girl thanked her brother as she rushed down the hall. Maybe school could keep her memories away for a while.

~oOo~

A week earlier, on the other side of town, a team of teachers were chatting as they waited for the principal. He’d called an impromptu meeting so early some of them were still yawning. One person, in particular, was curious why Nedzu would call him in. He wasn’t even done with his teacher certification yet.

The tired heroes perked up as the being in question finally joined them. In his paws was a red USB that arrested everyone's attention. Its implications sobered them immediately.

Nedzu maneuvered into his seat at the head of the table and smiled. "Good morning everyone! I'm sorry to call a meeting like this on such short notice, but I've been informed that one of our new admittees is… quite powerful."

He paused to plug the drive into the table's display input. The places in front of the staff members lit up with the school logo before showed a fierce young brunette with determined amber eyes. There was a hardened light in her gaze that told of her experience in battle. Her hair was noticeably thick and spiky, much like the furry tail around her waist.

"This is Son Avoca, publicly registered as Midoriya Izumi." The lightness in Nedzu's tone vanished. A conflicted look took over his face. "She is one of the two children responsible for ending Perfect Cell."

Toshinori's heart dropped. She was so young and had already been exposed to such horrors. He'd known the two who'd stopped the creature were a bit young, but he wasn't expecting children. She was barely fourteen.

"From what I understand, young Gohan will also be attending UA in a couple of years." The screen changed to show an even younger boy with black hair just as spiky as his sister's. Though his expression was a bit softer, the same determination reflected in his eyes. "He'll be going to a nearby middle school until then."

Toshinori frowned. If these kids were so powerful… "How come we hadn't heard of them before the Cell Games?" The abilities they displayed both with and without the aid of their quirks was unbelievable. Most kids their age had nowhere near the amount of training they surely must've had.

"They were living out in the mountains in the southern district. But they have been mentioned in the news before." At this, Nedzu's nose twitched. "Had Miss Son- Miss Midoriya - not mentioned it herself, I doubt even I would've noticed the connection."

The principal pulled up an infamous headline from eight years ago.

Throat dry, Toshinori glanced around at the other teachers and found them just as pale as he felt. He returned his focus to the files. The more he read, the more questions he had, a pit growing in his stomach with each one. The hows and whys swirled in his mind until Nezu spoke again.

“I know you all have questions. I do too.” His smile returned. “I've organized an interview so we may learn more about Miss Midoriya and perhaps find some answers.”

“Wait.” Present Mic frowned and leaned back in his chair. “I don't recognize her. Did she not take the entrance exam?”

Nezu's smile became strained. “The Hero Commission was quite insistent about her attending our school.”

Oh. That explained a lot. It also brought more questions Toshinori wasn’t sure he wanted answers to.

~oOo~

Looking at her reflection, Avoca turned. The skirt was a little short on her with how curvy she was starting to get. At least they were allowed to wear leggings underneath it. The blazer was a nice neutral grey to compliment the greens of the skirt and lapel stripes.

Her gaze caught the papers sitting on her desk and the brunette frowned. All the important papers she needed to verify her "new identity." Any reference to their father or their role in the Cell Games was conveniently left out. But they'd made note that Principal Nezu and her teachers would be aware of who she was.

Ugh, the regulation and hidden identity were like some twisted witness protection program. More like monitoring persons of interest. She shook her head to force those thoughts from her mind.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see her brother in the doorway. His pink checks and twitching tail made her smile reassuringly at him.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I, uh, couldn't tuck it in comfortably…"

Avoca giggled. "I had the same problem when we were younger. Here," pulled the band of skirt down. Lifted and resettled her tail. "Wrap it just under the waistband and don't wear a belt." Watched her brother do as told. Gave him a small smile when he didn't look back up. Patted his shoulder. "It'll be fine, brother. We just have to play by their rules a bit." Gohan merely sighed.

He was dressed in his own uniform. The black slacks and blazer looked good on him. She ruffled his hair and laughed at his protest. He'll make friends easily.

Which reminded her… "You remember the names we've been registered under, right?"

The boy nodded. He didn't like having to hide their identities. She didn't either. They were children of Earth's former protector. Maybe they wouldn't shout it from the rooftops, but it's not like anyone would think to look into their father’s past. It wasn't out of shame, but it felt like they were hiding their father.

"Well, let's get going." Avoca sighed and grabbed her backpack. "We don't wanna be late on our first day."

"Yeah."

She nudged his shoulder. He nudged her back. They joked and played as they walked out. She laughed.

Avoca had hope that whatever adventure lay before them, it would be one full of memories.

~oOo~

*TeamFourStar reference. I believe this is from Episode 60 Part 3?

Buy the writer a Coffee

#mha fanfiction #varnienne oc #oc centric #tw ptsd #tw trauma #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #boku no hero fanfic #canon x oc #dragon ball z #dbz gohan

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squadron-of-damned-writes · 3 years

Text

tagged by @thiswaycomessomethingwicked. Found this sitting in my drafts after third of a year later. No time like the present, right?

Rules are: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

(how convenient that AO3 shows 20 works per page by default!)

1. It most certainly is a morning and the doorbell rings. Like the beginning of a horror movie, Sam thinks as he makes his way from his room to the front door. (The Night In Gale, 2019-10-11, Good Omens x Supernatural)

2. The remnants of the stained glass creak and shatter under the heavy plate sabatons. The men clad in deep red robes watch the armoured figures walk through the raided monastery in careful silence. (Moon And Destiny, 2019-08-24, Les Misérables x Wizardry)

3. “Alright squad! Who are we doing this week?” (One Gay at a Time, 2019-08-31, Les Misérablex x Queer Eye for the Straight Guy)

4. Light. Everything is is spinning. Light, even behind closed eyelids. It’s omnipresent. Radiant, blinding, magnificent light. (Like A Teen Girl,[1] 2019-11-15, W.I.T.C.H.)

5. Witches have pricking in their thumbs, Varen had his stomach worms, and Lyris had her teeth. She could feel them vibrating in her gums. It usually went away with a couple of flagons of mead, but apparently not tonight. If anything, it made it worse. So here she was, Lyris called Titanborn, tipsy but not yet drunk, sitting by the campfire with the two of Companions and a growing feeling of dread as her teeth planned to run for the hills. It made her only more irritated. (Mind How She Goes, 2019-11-30, Elder Scrolls Online)

6. “Well, are you going to stand there the whole night?” (The Past, the Present, the Death, and the Devil, 2019-12-19, Les Misérables)

7. There is this thing they don’t tell you about dying – it gave you mother of all headaches. In all those tomes and epic sagas there could had been at least once mentioned that the brave heroes and mighty beings who returned from the Other side felt like a horse kicked thorough their head. This terrible pain was usually why your freshly resurrected dead scream in agony and want to destroy things. (The Many Deaths of Me,[2] 2017-04-30, World of Warcraft)

8. As strange as it was, Lyris finds an odd sort of peace here. It is not her old home – she doubts she could ever return there – but her cabin near Riften is a new home. At first it was a house, but she made it a home. It was a hard work to get there, and she is rightfully proud of it all. (To Be Found, 2019-12-09, Elder Scrolls Online)

9. Say what you want about the Tribunal and Vvardenfell, there is something that draws a good hero to the city of Vivec. That something might be a divine presence, but most likely it is simply the presence of a quarter with publicly accessible forges and looms in the close proximity to a bank and the drop site for commissioned works. (The Battlespire, 2020-05-09, Elder Scrolls Online)

10. “Your Majesty, a message for you.” The chamberlain presents the envelope on a silver tray with a gentle bow. Queen Ayrenn picks it up with her delicately manicured fingers, and the soft warm breeze of early autumn attempts to snatch the piece of creamy paper from her as it hurls large honey and amber coloured leaves before finally settling them on the ground. (War Ends, 2020-07-26, Elder Scrolls Online)

11. “Allow me to ask you again for clarification, Your Ex-” “Charles, dear brother. Simply and plainly Charles, for we all are equal in the eyes of the almighty God.” “- Charles: I have died.” (The Man Who Saved A World, 2020-08-12, Les Misérables)

12. So that’s it, you suppose. You are going to sit down on this chair, because someone has to. (The Tale of Two Fates, 2020-09-05, Death and Taxes)

13. There is a saying in Ferelden: When you think you’ve reached the bottom, the Maker shows up with a shovel. Like most farmer wisdom, even this one applies in Orlais. (Land Turned Red, 2020-12-29, Dragon Age)

14. So you come to the supermarket on Friday morning and in the ice-cream isle is a poorly paid and even poorerly shaven retail worker unloading boxes of frozen pizzas, eyeing them like man who’s missed out on breakfast and his contract doesn’t include lunch break. (Observations of an Unconcerned Bus Driver, 2021-03-07, Stardew Valley)

15. They are giving him that look. He knows it well and hasn’t seen it in a long long time. It is the look that says: “I can’t believe that out of all the people in Thedas, he was the one to save us.” (Fine Literature, 2021-03-14, Dragon Age)

16. A young woman stands in a garden. It is a beautiful garden, very lush in spite of all damnation raining from the sky lately, now that the Veil is gone and… And all that. (Houserite, 2021-03-29, Dragon Age x Homestuck)

17. If you asked Solas, it was the most predictable outcome, blatantly staring you in face, shoving middle finger into your nose and blowing a raspberry. However, nobody asked Solas and even less people cared for his issues with Sera’s behaviour, and thus when Dorian goes missing, almost everyone is surprised. (The Excellent Week of Dorian Pavus, 2021-04-09, Dragon Age x Doctor Who)

18. Talent. A short and complicated word. What is a talent? (Necromancer’s Virtues, 2021-05-06, Dragon Age)

19. Fucked.That’s what they are. Fucked. Completely and thoroughly. The Trade Tongue is a limited and insufficient language and lacks any imagination whatsoever when it comes to cusswords. (The Wolves Breach Through, 2021-05-29, Dragon Age)

20. There are a lot of ways to tell that you’ve woken up the wrong way in the morning, and I was pretty certain that I’ve hit three of them at least: Every fiber of me was aching, two men were looming over me with worried expressions, and the sky was dark. Especially the last bit was extremely worrisome, since I was fairly certain I fell asleep in my bed at home under a solid ceiling above which is mum’s room and after that is the attic and after that is a roof and only then you get to see the sky. (Real Feeling of Sharing,[3] 2021-01-10, Dragon Age)

Observations:

I use the opening lines of a story like most people use headlines; luring in the reader by making them think “Hold on, what’s going on?” and hoping it ignites strong enough curiosity for them to read further to figure it out. For that reason more often than not the opening lines are not exactly related to the story.

A surprising amount of mu openings also clearly say: “The story you know is over.”

Also very specific thing which is less about opening lines and more about the trope of my fics: A suspicious number of beginnings based on the fact that the person of focus is dead or implied to be, or implied to be really close to it.

I also don’t like long introductions to the story, so it’s either “Things are happening now, figure it out dear reader” or “This is a thing I am going to focus on because it’s my thing, deal with it, plot will come later.”

Favourite opening line is from The Wolves Breach Through, especially because it quickly evolves into a rant about langauges. The Night In Gale is a close second, because I love to take a piss on the source material. For this reason The Battlespire also comes close to the top, although the fic in itselfwas shit.

[1] Like A Teen Girl should get renamed, because the story evolved from “Parody of the Magic Highschool Girls premise” to “Drama With the Lads”, but I eh, who cares anyway, right?

[2] The Many Deaths of Me deserves to be rewritten by older and more experienced me. It could be a great fic.

[3] Probably going to get renamed to Original Real Feeling of Sharing, but only when I start the next story from the series.

tagging: @timesthatneverwere @thewronglong

#writing

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tabloidtoc · 3 years

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National Enquirer, April 19

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover

Page 2: Michael Douglas' short-term memory loss and frail frame have wife Catherine Zeta-Jones fearing for her older husband's well-being -- Michael once declared he'd beaten oral cancer, but harsh chemotherapy and radiation treatments have left him a shell of his former self and he has even admitted to suffering memory problems -- he was also affected by the 2020 death of his father Kirk Douglas and he hasn't been the same since his dad died -- this is a guy who cheated death with a horrific cancer ordeal, and he's had other medical issues over the years and some serious domestic dramas that have taken their toll -- Catherine always knew that their age difference would mean her taking care of him one day but she didn't expect it to be so soon

Page 3: Reese Witherspoon has ditched her wedding ring during recent outings, sparking rumors her marriage to Jim Toth is on the ropes but she feels their relationship isn't down for the count and refuses to give up the fight to keep their family together but they may not make it -- the desire to make things work is still there on both sides and they've been able to pull it all together all these years, even with personalities as different as theirs mainly for the sake of their family and they got on each other's nerves while cooped up together during the pandemic, but they don't bicker in public and that's one thing they have going for them

Page 4: Ryan Seacrest creeped out his pals when he gushed over Maria Menounos when she sat in for Kelly Ripa on Live recently -- Ryan thinks Maria is the smartest, most talented and beautiful woman to walk the planet and he can't help but swoon over her but Ryan understands Maria is happily married to TV writer and producer Keven Underago and he'd never cross the line and he doesn't want to date Maria, but he makes no secret he'd be dancing on air to have someone like her, which is kind of creepy, but he can't help it -- Ryan would never make moves on someone else's girl, but he does try to imitate her husband Keven's qualities like how funny and creative and sensible he is and Ryan adores Kelly and thinks she's great but he wouldn't mind if she takes more time off just so he can gaze at Maria

* Miley Cyrus' recent boozy night out with party pals, including British punk rocker Yungblud, has loved ones fearing she's slipping back into dangerous territory -- she was spotted at Hollywood's famous Rainbow Bar & Grill, drinking shots and beer chasers, just months after she admitted to her struggles with addiction and after fellow addiction-challenged singer Demi Lovato announced she was California sober, claiming she was safely able to drink in moderation, Miley didn't see any reason why she couldn't do the same -- her family and sober friends are deeply concerned for Miley's well-being and are begging her to stop drinking now

Page 5: Newly robust Celine Dion has her health back on track following a dangerous few years where she looked like a walking skeleton -- she has beefed up her wraith-like frame by making healthier choices during lockdown -- she went through a rough time of transition after husband Rene Angelil's death and lost a lot of weight, but lockdown has given her a chance to rest and focus on taking care of herself and now she looks 15 to 20 pounds heavier and seems in good spirits and is looking forward to rebooting her Courage World Tour when the pandemic ends

Page 6: Fitness fanatic Tim McGraw is a changed man since he kicked the bottle in 2008, but he's now hooked on working out and sculpting the perfect bod and he's publicly admitted exercise is what gets him flying high but his quest to get ripped to the max is now a 24/7 obsession and he spends hours in the gym and he's already flexing a muscular body most men would die for, but he doesn't want to stop until he's an Adonis and he works out twice or three times a day and packs his diet with energy-boosting smoothies and veggie juices and some might say he's going overboard with the workouts, but Tim craves those feel-good endorphins and he considers his workouts to be fun -- he loves the way he looks and thinks he can do better and he does spend a lot of time in front of the mirror admiring himself and tends to wear tight T-shirts that show off his pecs and six-pack abs, and wife Faith Hill loves the results -- a lot of people say he's traded one addiction for another

Page 7: Nearly six years after their bitter divorce, Miranda Lambert has finally extended an olive branch to ex-husband Blake Shelton, but she's still pretty envious over his professional success with fiancee Gwen Stefani -- last year, Blake and Gwen took home the collaborative video prize at the Country Music Television Awards for their duet Nobody but You, and also scored a Top Ten hit with their single Happy Anywhere and it makes Miranda jealous to see Blake making hay on the charts with Gwen but their success also made Miranda recall Over You, her hit collaboration with Blake, which won Song of the Year at the 2012 Country Music Association Awards and during a recent interview, Miranda affectionately blew kisses toward the camera as she recounted how her ballad with Blake was inspired by his grief over the loss of his older brother; still, Miranda also harbors a competitive streak and said she's angling to transform herself and husband Brendan McLoughlin into entertainment movers and shakers just like Blake and Gwen -- Miranda plans to enroll Brendan in acting school and Miranda wants them to act together and they are looking for scripts to make a television movie and even planning to launch a production company in Nashville and Miranda recognizes the musical chemistry Blake and Gwen share, and she believes she and Brendan can match that success on-screen -- meanwhile, as Blake and Gwen prepare to wed, Miranda is finally in a place where she can wish them well and Miranda carried a lot of animosity toward Blake and Gwen, especially since she suspected they started something before she and Blake split up, but she's very happy with Brendan so maybe all that pain she and Blake went through in ending their marriage was for the best

* Reba McEntire is reaching out to save her friend and former daughter-in-law Kelly Clarkson from suffering through a divorce that eerily mirrors Reba's own breakup -- Kelly split from husband and manager Brandon Blackstock in June 2020, and the divorce battle has them fighting over custody of their two kids as well as Brandon suing her for $1.4 million in unpaid commissions, but Reba has seen this before: Brandon's dad, Narvel Blackstock, dumped her in 2015 after 26 years of marriage, and despite initially agreeing to continue as her manager, dumped her as a client weeks later and Reba knows all too well how petty and conniving Narvel and Brandon can be, and her heart goes out to Kelly -- Kelly admits to Reba there are times when she just wants to run away and hide and Reba tells her to run away to me and it means the world to Kelly to have Reba in her corner -- Narvel and son Brandon head Starstruck Entertainment and are adamant that Kelly owes them big bucks for helping her land both her talk show and a coaching spot on The Voice, but with Reba's help, Kelly is fighting back and Reba learned the hard way the pitfalls of mixing business with family life and she's trying to help Kelly because she hates to see another woman suffer at the hands of a Blackstock

Page 8: Sicko Jeffrey Epstein has been accused of a horrific new litany of abuse by a woman who claims he forced her into unwanted genital surgery, raped her in front of her child and threatened to feed her to alligators -- the woman, identified in court papers as Jane Doe, is suing the late pervert's estate, claiming he and his alleged madam Ghislaine Maxwell, groomed her for their sordid pleasure -- in the suit, she claims Epstein drove her to pick up her 8-year-old son and took them to a lake, where he threatened to feed her to alligators, as had happened to other girls in the past, if she dared to squeal on him -- at the time, the woman said she was 26, but she looked much younger and Epstein told her to say she was 17 and he also arranged for a man with a Russian accent to perform an unnecessary vaginal surgery to pass her off as a virgin to a client and this violent and illegal procedure was botched, leaving her mutilated, in pain, disabled, and permanently sexually dysfunctional

Page 9: Ghislaine Maxwell has been slapped with yet another sex trafficking charge and it's got her former pal Prince Andrew sweating bullets -- the new indictment details how Jeffrey Epstein's alleged madam reportedly groomed a 14-year-old for him, but crucially for Andrew, it expands the time frame of Ghislaine's alleged crimes from 1994 to 2004, a span that includes her meeting the British royal in 1999 and then introducing him to Epstein and that time frame also includes the period in which "sex slave" Virginia Roberts Giuffre claims she slept with Andrew three times, charges he's denied -- the new charge also opens the floodgates on other celebrities, politicians and high-profile figures who were in Epstein's orbit at the time and the new indictment widens the pool for Ghislaine and her defense attorneys because who wouldn't want to bring down all of these fat cats and who wouldn't be that desperate?

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Rumer Willis got to the root of her gardening needs in L.A., Michael B. Jordan and Chante Adams got cozy as they shared a snack while shooting Journal for Jordan in NYC's Central Park, Heidi Klum in L.A., Mario Lopez tossed the ceremonial first dice roll at the opening of the Mohegan Sun Casino in Las Vegas, Christopher Meloni shot his onscreen spouse's funeral scene for Law & Order: Organized Crime

Page 11: Tony Bennett has a secret weapon in his fight against Alzheimer's disease: his close pal and collaborator Lady Gaga -- Susan Crow Benedetto, 54, the wife of the 94-year-old singing legend, has enlisted Gaga to help keep Tony's faculties sharp as he struggles with advancing dementia because Gaga's telephone calls have always helped cheer Tony up and keep him focused and they laugh together, reminisce and sometimes sing and it always puts a smile on Tony's face and it's great therapy -- when asked whether Tony still recognizes the pop star, Susan joked that Gaga is hard to forget -- Gaga has also played a critical role in keeping the aging crooner active and creative by working with him and they plan to release their second album of duets this spring as a follow-up to their 2014 smash hit Cheek to Cheek

* Worried friends feared ailing rock god Ozzy Osbourne is coming unstrung while wife Sharon Osbourne's career goes into a death spiral -- Ozzy has been plagued by crippling illnesses over the years, including Parkinson's disease, and has to walk with the aid of a cane and now he's at wit's end and pushing himself into a danger zone as his wife fights tooth and nail after leaving The Talk amid a racism scandal and Ozzy's been under a great deal of distress over Sharon's problems over at The Talk and he worries and fusses over her and can't focus on anything else and it's left many in his circle very concerned for his health which is fragile enough already -- the bashing Sharon received during the scandal has the aging rocker concerned she may never work again and he'll have to be the breadwinner

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- five years after Angelina Jolie filed for divorce, she's still battling Brad Pitt over custody of their five youngest kids, now she's filed new court documents claiming she has proof of domestic violence against Brad and accusations like these would kill anyone else's career, but not in this case: Hollywood is 100 percent behind Brad and the sense in the industry is Angelina has weaponized the kids against Brad but Brad is very well respected in Hollywood, and most people find these new allegations hard to believe and if anything, Angie is only hurting the children and herself

* Real Housewives stars featured in the upcoming spinoff are cashing in and Bravo will pay Luann de Lesseps, Teresa Giudice and the others a sweet $200,000 for one week's work in Turks and Caicos and that's more than double what the ladies usually get for filming, plus they get a free trip to a tropical island

* American Idol could be on the chopping block because in just seven weeks the show has lost 2 million viewers and it's simple math: Idol cannot survive with its current budget and ABC has two options which are cancel the show or cut costs, which would mean hiring cheaper judges and a cheaper host to replace Ryan Seacrest and both options are being explored

* Britney Spears' beau, personal trainer Sam Asghari, shows off his toned abs in L.A. (picture)

Page 13: Palace insiders fear Prince Harry and Meghan Markle's vendetta against the British monarchy will take a shocking new turn: they'll bankroll a lurid movie about Princess Diana's death and the conspiracy theories that suggest the royal family was involved -- the rights to the movie script are owned by Hollywood producer Ben Browning, who was just hired by Harry and Meghan to run their film company Archewell Productions -- the controversial movie centers on Princess Diana's lover Dodi Fayed's father, former Harrods' boss Mohamed Al-Fayed, investigating his son's death and his belief that Dodi and Diana were murdered because she was pregnant and planning to marry, and The Firm did not want a Muslim in the royal family

Page 14: Crime

Page 15: Alabama Shakes drummer Steve Johnson has been busted on charges of willful torture and abuse of a child and was also charged with cruelly beating or otherwise maltreating a child under the age of 18 -- his arrest came just a year after he was slapped with a one-year suspended sentence and two years' probation after pleading guilty to menacing his ex-wife Whitney Lee, who called him mentally unstable -- Johnson helped the Shakes score three Grammys in 2016 for their album Sound & Color but the band has been on hiatus since singer Brittany Howard started a solo career in 2018 and Steve was lost after that; he went from playing in front of 50,000 people to playing in bars again -- even if the Shakes reunite, it's highly unlikely Steve would be invited back -- Steve remains in county jail awaiting his court date and his attorneys said Mr. Johnson maintains his innocence

* Danny Masterson and his lawyers believe they are victims of anti-Scientology bias and cannot get a fair trial in his Los Angeles rape case -- celebrity attorney Tom Mesereau, who successfully defended Michael Jackson against child molestation charges two decades ago, claimed his client has been treated unfairly because of his ties to the church, and that the police or district attorney's office leaked damaging details of the case -- Danny and his lawyers feel persecuted and that everybody in Hollywood who isn't a Scientologist is after them -- LAPD Robbery and Homicide Division Capt. Jonathan Tippet said his organization is keeping a tight lid on all information surrounding the case to ensure Masterson gets a fair trial

Page 16: Mormon church officials are being accused of corporate greed for using members' charitable donations to secretly create a $100 billion tax-free fund -- James Huntsman, the son of a prominent Mormon family, is suing the church for fraud, claiming donations solicited to finance charity work were actually used to fill church coffers -- the church boasts at least 15 million members worldwide, including celebrities like Gladys Knight, Donny and Marie Osmond, Katherine Heigl, Julianne Hough, Christina Aguilera, Ryan Gosling, Amy Adams and Aaron Eckhart and many could have tithed money that ended up in the tax-free fund

Page 17: Jen Shah of The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City was recently fingered by the feds as the bogus businesswoman behind a multi-state fraud scheme dating back to 2012 -- the Bravo blowhard, known for her extravagant parties, designer outfits and extensive entourage, and her first assistant Stuart Smith were arrested and charged with conspiracy to commit wire fraud and conspiracy to commit money laundering -- the U.S. Justice Department alleged the Park City resident and Smith of Lehi generated and sold lead lists of innocent individuals for other members of their scheme to repeatedly scam, and claimed the greedy creeps defrauded hundreds of victims -- the terrible twosome targeted older adults and computer illiterate folks by using both telemarketing and in-person sales teams to peddle nonexistent online services and then fight the refund efforts of wronged consumers -- if convicted, Shah and Smith each face up to 50 years behind bars

Page 18: American Life

Page 20: L.A. County Sheriff Alex Villanueva triggered a cover-up scandal when he revealed his investigators determined why Tiger Woods drove off a California cliff, then refused to explain what happened, citing the golf legend's privacy -- Villanueva said the black box in the Genesis SUV that Tiger was driving when he flew off a suburban L.A. highway in the early morning helped determine the cause

* Hollywood Hookups -- Bethenny Frankel and Paul Bernon engaged, Melissa and Joe Gorga appear to have reached the finale of their marriage, Fernanda Flores and professional boxes Noel Mikaelian dating

Page 21: Britney Spears said she broke into tears after seeing bits of the new documentary about how she has been in the grips of a conservatorship for years, saying she was embarrassed by the light they put her in and she cried for two weeks and still cries sometimes

* Generous Hollywood legend Dick Van Dyke put a happy face on job seekers in Malibu when he handed out fistfuls of cash -- Dick was spotted withdrawing bills from a bank before driving to the Malibu Community Labor Exchange, a nonprofit that helps unemployed locals find day jobs and he stayed in his car as he handed out money to masked folks who were lined up to look for work

Page 22: The late Aretha Franklin left behind a royal mess of paperwork, including a newly discovered fourth will that has thrown her $80 million estate into fresh turmoil -- the eight-page document, titled The Will of Aretha Franklin, was apparently drawn up not long before her death in 2018, and was recently found among the files of the singer's onetime attorney Henry Grix along with the paperwork describing the terms of a trust but both items are stamped draft and neither has Aretha's signature but Michigan law changed seven years ago, and it made the admissibility of a document like this more flexible -- currently there's a bitter beef among Aretha's four adult sons over how their mother's assets should be divided

Page 23: The battle over Prince's $300 million fortune rages on, and the late pop star's siblings, and legal heirs, fear there won't be anything left after lawyers, accountants, administrators and the IRS take their cut -- five years after he died from a fatal fentanyl overdose without leaving a will, an avalanche of deals and court hearings have left his massive cash stash in limbo -- sadly Prince's distrust of lawyers and other professionals now means that millions will be spent paying those same people to try to sort out the mess he left behind and this could go on for a decade

Page 26: Weird Body Language -- stars cope with bizarre deformities -- Denzel Washington, Steven Tyler, Ashton Kutcher, Matthew Perry

Page 27: Lily Allen, Mark Wahlberg, Karolina Kurkova, Scar Service -- Tina Fey, Padma Lakshmi, Joaquin Phoenix

Page 32: Health Watch

* Ask the Vet -- Watch out for xylitol

Page 34: Just months after John Travolta's beloved wife, Kelly Preston, passed, the actor has been shattered by another death in the family -- his nephew Sam Travolta's badly decomposed body was found in his Wisconsin apartment last September, weeks after he died from a suspected heart attack -- John has suffered through so much loss and Sam's death was another huge blow but he's strong and has a deep faith in Scientology and the church brings him solace and comfort

Page 36: Shark Tank star Barbara Corcoran has stepped up to get a tenant in one of her buildings back on his feet -- Barbara and building co-owner Alex Rodriguez came under fire after Ryo Nagaoka's possessions were reportedly tossed while he was hospitalized with COVID-19 and when Ryo got home he found only his piano and pet tortoise in his cleaned-out crib -- emptying Ryo's apartment was necessary because it had become a health hazard and had a biocleaning crew scrub it -- Barbara donated $12,000 to a GoFundMe page for him, while A-Rod has seemingly not yet contributed anything and Barbara also said the building's management company has renovated Ryo's apartment

Page 38: Beloved game show host Peter Marshall made a miraculous recovery from COVID-19 to celebrate with friends at his 95th birthday party -- Peter was in and out of the hospital for ten weeks and he was at death's door and doctors didn't give him much of a chance but Peter beat the odds to enjoy a Zoom party attended online by Leslie Uggams, Loni Anderson, Sandy Duncan, Ruta Lee, Karen Valentine, Rich Little, JoAnne Worley, Jack Jones and more

* Accused sex freak Armie Hammer's career is in the crapper and he's beginning to believe that's where it will stay -- the kink king was fired from the thriller Billion Dollar Spy amid sexual assault allegations and the release of social media messages claiming he has dark fetishes including cannibalism -- Armie has already gotten to boot from the movie Shotgun Wedding and the series The Offer, and more trouble may be on the horizon: Armie was accused of sexual assault by a woman called Effie, who alleged the actor violently raped her and Armie's attorneys issued a statement denying the claims, saying Effie's own correspondence with Mr. Hammer undermines and refutes her outrageous allegations -- Armie has been keeping a low profile at a Caribbean resort, but fears his entire career is in trouble

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Carrie Underwood

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veridium · 4 years

Text

Commission: “Easy (Mac) Does It”

Last but certainly not least in this month’s commission comes a piece near and dear to my heart. @ginnyq requested that I write a College AU fic starring Olivia and Cullen, and I was so happy to do it! Especially considering I know @bitchesofostwick would love to read it as well.

Thank you for commissioning me, Ginny, and giving me a chance to write Cullen’s POV for a change!

It is a dark, desolate evening in winter. Even the crows dare not fly. Across campus there is hardly a soul crawling about. The winter storms brewed on the horizon. There are warnings on the evening news for ice and sleet. Even a rural midwestern guy like Cullen knows not to fuck around with that. For most of the night he’s been in the living room of the apartment reading for classes. Cassandra has long since gone to bed, leaving him to hold the proverbial fort. On the TV, there’s headlines about various worldly stressors. Ever-so-often he thinks to shut it off, but falls short of doing so every time. It’s like the way the stories keep him awake, if not increasingly unnerved.

Which is why, when a small hand slams against the nearby window, he jerks out of half-lulled, half-jaded rest. Book, blanket, and legs go up, and he goes down hard onto the floor. First instinct is to go for the bat in the kitchen, one of few in the apartment placed in strategic locations. He can ask questions later. It’s not until he flips over onto his back and sees a familiar, but still horrifying pout in the glass, fogging it up with hot breath.

“Cull’n, oh-pn th-dor!”

It’s Liv, dressed in a dark windbreaker jacket with the hood over her head like she’s some nighttime security guard who also goes jogging after shifts.

“Liv…! What the--”

She quickly sticks her finger over her lips and demands he quiet down. She removes her other hand from the glass and points in the direction of the door. She’s staring at him like he’ll either unlock it or she’ll initiate a curse in revenge. Groaning as he rises -- damn, he landed on his hip in just the most painful spot -- he stands on his tube-socked feet and drags them over to the door. Rustling bushes can be heard from outside but they blend in with the erratic wind gusts.

Whatever could she want at this hour, and why does it involve almost sending him into cardiac arrest?

For the sake of not having to pay the school for apartment carpentry repairs should he refuse to let her in, he unchains the door and flipped the lock. Keen on the sounds of both, Liv’s pressing the door open with gusto that overpowers his wariness. “Ugh, thank you,” she whispers, slipping inside and shutting it for him. She then backed against it and locked it again. “Is Cassandra awake?”

“Cassandra?” he asks with a normal volume, only to have her finger waved in the half-step of space there was between them. So this is all to see her? Why?

“Shh-yes! Fuck.” She then slides to check around the corner.

“No,” he answers, grabbing her flailing hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Good. Dammit.” Without answering him she walks quietly into the kitchen and started pacing. “How could I have slipped up like this?”

“Uh…”

“No, no, there is no excuse.”

“I wasn’t going to say--”

“It is entirely reprehensible on my part, there is no way--”

“Olivia…!”

“Shhhh!” She spins around and shushes him again, her look twice as horrified as before. “For this to be fixed we have to be completely quiet, traceless, underc--”

Her phone goes off and she hops feet into the air, reaching into her jacket pocket and nearly flinging the iPhone across the kitchen, as if it’s a hot potato she grabbed out of the oven with her bare hands.

“Shitshitshit.” She scrambles and turns off the ringer while Cullen covers his mouth which is sure to be cracked in a half-smile. It’s just too much.

“Liv, what is going on?” he gets in as she makes for the small round dining table, sitting down and putting her head in her hands. “Are you in trouble or something?”

“I am. Or, I’m going to be. With Ellinor.”

He frowns. “Ellinor? Why…?”

“Um. Look, Rutherfudger,” she stares at him as he sits down across from her. She presses her hands onto the table flat. “I have a mission, and unfortunately for me, it requires the accompaniment of a capable man.”

“How...how disturbing, for you.”

“I know. But more specifically it requires you. At the present moment Ellinor is at a late night group project meeting, but when she gets back to the dorm she’s going to want a late night snack before knocking out.”

“...Yes?”

“A late night snack of the cheesy and carb variety.”

“...Yes, like those easy macs she…she...”

Olivia’s already pale face goes nearly paper white as she sinks back in her chair, slowly and with folding arms. Suddenly Cullen remembers a conversation -- a certain casual chat with Ellinor before class started, in which she mentioned a very specific qualm: Olivia had eaten all her easy mac bowls. Little blonde punk, she said as she pulled out her pens from her bag.

The urge to start laughing rears its ugly head again as Cullen folds his own arms against his chest. “Not again, Liv.”

“Again? What has she told--” she is almost yelling again, but shuts herself up. After craning her neck out behind her to check down the hall, she gets back to business. “Look--”

“What’s stopping you from driving down to Walmart and picking up some? You have your car.”

Almost perfectly timed, a rolling current of thunder goes off outside. The rain clapping against the window makes it barely audible. Olivia sighs, mulling her teeth a little as her gaze falls.

“I haven’t been able to go in and get my new tires put on, yet, and the forecast called for freezing rain. I am a good driver, better than any of you cowboys, but I’m not stupid. I’m not going to trust a mini built for speed out there.”

Still amused, Cullen leans his elbows onto the table. “So. You don’t really need a man, you need 4-wheel drive.”

“I thought the “man” thing would appeal to your...weakness to be chivalrous, or whatever. Masculinity.”

“You think me that easily manipulated?”

She presses her palms together with conviction. “Look, Cullen, I have not the time nor the supplemental resources to have this disk horse now. We have but one hour -- nay, 45 minutes -- to keep me alive and keep you from danger.”

“Danger? Pff, what danger am I in if I don’t help…”

Liv lifts a brow. “Two words: hangry Ellinor.”

The silence that fills the room is comparable to the kind that happens right before a giant shark busts in and devours one of them like a tootsie pop. He holds his breath, their eyes locked, before he’s up and reaching for the keys hanging on the door next to his equally necessary raincoat.

“Let’s go,” he says, but she doesn’t need the command. She’s already right there with him prying the door open.

Approximately 24 minutes later they are standing before a disastrous scene in the Kroger section with every kind of boxed and pre-made pasta dish. Every kind, that is, save for the Kraft easy mac. Maybe it is a sign of the apocalypse -- it is based on the look on Olivia’s face -- but to the onlooker it probably looks like two college students in the midst of a midterm breakdown that is being exacerbated by a 14 inch gap of nothing on the shelf.

“What...w-what, w-why are they out of it?” Olivia finally says. A silence that came only after she had spent way too much time pacing the aisle looking for where it could be, while Cullen stood in front of where they had always been.

“Would she like--”

“No,” Olivia answers fast. “No, it has to be easy mac.”

“...because she will no--”

“Notice. Yes.”

Cullen goes from wanting to “mistakenly” not see her banging on the window to wanting to almost hug her. For a 6-pack of Kraft?

“I could text Rylen and see if he has any in h--”

“Ellinor is going to kill me.”

He turns to the side and looks at her. Her posture and expression of defeat further warms him. “Hey, it’s just easy mac.”

“Yeah, but it’s also the third time I’ve eaten out of her pantry and forgot to replace it. I said I’d be better, and now I’m going to be. Or, I was. Now I’m just going to go back to the dorm and lay myself out on the guillotine.”

She starts to leave and he follows a few steps. “Liv, he--”

“No, Rutherfetta, you don’t get it--”

“Rutherf--”

“--Ellinor puts up with so much of my shit every day, and the least I can do is make sure she doesn’t go without her own damn mac.”

The comedy of the night has all-but-vanished and they are left at an impasse. Cullen is no Dr. Phil, or whoever is respected publicly for therapeutic insight these days, but he can tell there’s something else going on. Something that would give Olivia extra reason for wanting to follow through with this. It’s kind of odd being the person to witness it. Odd, but not awful. Not anymore.

He grabs his keys and shuffles in his socks and Nike sandals over to her. She folds her arms, and for some reason he sees fit to stick his arm around her and get her to walk with him.

“Come on, Liv, let’s go.”

“But...b-b-”

“I have a back-up plan in mind. Let’s just get back before the storm gets any worse.”

He drives them back to her and Ellinor’s dorm. Astoundingly, they do not take all night to do so, and avoid being swept away by the storm. Instead of staying in the car and saying God speed, though, he follows her inside. She eyes him with suspicion as he does. The two of them look a bit washed up coming down the hallway. When they arrive, Ellinor’s door is pitched open. She then comes out almost perfectly on cue.

Her eyes go big with immediate concern. “What on earth are you two doing?” she asks. She crosses her arms over herself, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Her hair is tousled up in a ponytail. She’s beautiful.

“I, uh--”

Olivia interrupts. “Ellinor, I have to confess something, I...I-I...”

Hearing the guilt in Liv’s tone snaps him out of it. He shakes his head and grabs onto his keys in his pocket. “Liv was at our place, and gave me the idea to come over and surprise you.”

Ellinor’s eyes switch with suspicion between them both. She’s not entirely convinced, but there’s a light in her eyes. Hope.

“What? In this weather?”

“I didn’t plan on it being so shitty outside. I was going to fetch you and cook you a late-night dinner since you’ve been working hard all night.”

“W-hat? But I haven’t heard from you in…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want my phone to drown in the rain.”

Ellinor relaxes and her arms fall. She looks tired and fed up with having to deal with big assignments and bigger egos all day. He knows that face and that dread. It wears on her. Olivia was right, in her own way, to be so frantically concerned -- but neither of them deserve to spend the rest of the night squabbling.

She looks at Olivia. “Is he telling the truth, or did you just conscript him to bury a body for you?”

“I...what?”

They share a half-second glance. For a moment Cullen wonders if she’ll go along, or if the pang of shame will make her confess no matter what. There’s awkward suspense, and then: “Pff, I wouldn’t call him to bury a body,” Olivia finally responds. She rolls her eyes, even. “He’s telling the truth. I just went along to make sure he didn’t mess up. Go on, now, go have your candlelit Rutherfeast.”

It isn’t until Ellinor has rushed in and out with warmer clothes, and they walk all the way down the stairs and into the fire lane where he’s temporarily parked, that Cullen feels his phone vibrate. He waits until they are in the car to check.

Liv: Thank you, Rutherfriend. Take care of her, okay? She deserves it.

Ellinor asks what’s got him grinning, and he just shakes his head and says one of the boys from the team sent a joke. Just enough time to respond:

Cullen: No problem, Sinclown.

Now, to text Cassandra and wake her up to check what’s in the pantry while he pretends to drive really slow for “the storm’s sake.” Sorry, Cass.

“What are you doing?” he asks, noticing Ellinor also texting.

Ellinor smirks and slumps comfortably in the passengers seat. Her thumb hits send on a message. “Telling Liv she better not eat my easy macs while I’m gone.”

#comission #college au #ginnyq #bitchesofostwick #ellinor trevelyan #cullen rutherford #olivia sinclair #modern au

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victoirebisset · 4 years

Text

[ VICTOIRE ELISE BISSET. 28. CISFEMALE. SHE/HER] is here! They’ve lived in Silver Lake for [ SIX MONTHS ] and are originally from [ WELLESLEY, MASSACHUSETTS ]. They are a [ PUBLICIST ] and in their downtime love [ CATCHING A MOVIE AT CINEMA PARADISO ] and [ ENJOYING A NICE BOTTLE OF RED WINE ]. They look a lot like [ ELIZABETH OLSEN ] and live [ ON SILVERWOOD TERRACE ].

the basics

full name: victoire elise bisset.

nicknames: v or vic. never, and i do mean never, vicky.

birthplace: wellesley, massachusetts.

birthdate: january 9th, 1992.

zodiac sign: capricorn.

alignment: chaotic good.

personality type: estj.

personality traits: dogmatic, loquacious, reliable, patient, rancorous, affable, critical & forthright.

gender: cisfemale.

sexual / romantic orientation: heterosexual / heteroromantic.

the biography

the daughter to a (now) disgraced politician coming from old money and a disgruntled, yet loyal to a fault, housewife, there was never a time victoire didn’t know luxury — or chaos.

as a matter of fact, her entrance to the world was an example of both. the first — and what would ultimately be only — child to gabriel and nicolette bisset, there was no expense spared as they prepared for her arrival; hundreds of designer onesies she’d grow out of within weeks were purchased, an italian artist flown in and commissioned to hand paint a mural in her nursery and her mother only received the finest of prenatal care. for most, it was an ostentatious display that was NOT needed. but that has always been the bisset way. flamboyant and shameless flaunting of their wealth was the norm as it was, so of course they’d go all out when expecting a baby.

at the same time, there was a certain level of disappointment. as far as her father went, at least. he had been hoping for a son to follow in his footsteps. but, he’d tell his wife in an attempt to convince them both, a little girl wasn’t so bad — he’d love, cherish and spoil her regardless. and he did do at least two of those three things. but that son he’d been hoping for never came. once victoire was born, his wife refused to let him touch her. he assumed it was “baby hormones” but really it was because hours before her baby shower, nicolette had received a call from one of his mistresses confessing the affair because she felt “bad” knowing she was pregnant. nicolette never confronted her husband but their relationship was never the same.

growing up in the lapse of luxury, most would assume vic had nothing to complain about. while her material needs were always met, the emotional ones were often neglected. her mother, bless her heart, tried. but it wasn’t easy for her. nicolette was responsible for raising their child and presenting the bissets as the picture perfect family all while knowing her husband was fucking around on her. who wouldn’t become resentful dealing with that? snide comments were thrown across the dinner table, there were times she’d disappear in her room with a bottle of wine. she’d try to be there for her daughter as much as she could but she struggled. and her father, on the other hand, focused more on his career than his family. a lawyer turned politician, he campaigned, had frequent business meetings and a long list of secret lovers to split his time between. hard to be present with a schedule like that.

gabriel’s career choice was confusing for young victoire. there were those that publicly villainized him and thought he was the devil. there were those that put him on a pedestal. it was overwhelming... and alluring. her father was the mayor of wellesley her entire life and was even campaigning for senate when the “scandal” happened. it was always a part of her life and politics intrigued her. she’d dreamed of being the first woman president.

her father vowed to help her get into politics and the first step of that was hiring her to be his publicist as soon as she graduated from college. it was a blatant act of nepotism but at least she was really freakin’ good at her job. she gets word accusations of bribery would be hitting the local news and that same day there’s a press conference so shots of him shaking hands, kissing babies and making grand promises distracts from the news. his morality is called into question and he’s front and center campaigning for every local charity for six months. it was a bit grimey witnessing fully the seedy underbelly of politics and her idealistic view of it changed drastically. she no longer wanted to be president or a senator or anything else like that. she did, though, learn she really did like pr and enjoyed the role she had. at least until she was expected to pay off her father’s pregnant mistress who was threatening to spill the beans about their illicit affair.

while her mother had known about his infidelities for years, vic had no clue. she always assumed her father was working. that was why he couldn’t come to her recitals or presentations in school. that was why he was late to every single one of her birthday parties. she had convinced herself that her father wasn’t a scumbag but a highly ambitious politician and anyone else in his position would do the same.

to an extent, she had idolized her father — glorifying the parent who was never really there and whose approval she would have died to get. the version of him she had created was destroyed. she was furious, heartbroken and confused. she quit that very day and a week later, the news broke. that one woman speaking out opened the floodgates and years of affairs and other naughty behavior was broadcasted across the state. her mother would have made tammy wynette proud with how she stood by her man but victoire did not follow suit. she worked in public relations so she never outright spoke against him because no one would hire her after publicly blasting a former client in the press. even if it was her father. but she knew how to expertly throw shade. and she did. quite a few times, actually.

after she quit, victoire ended up in new york where she worked with a pr firm for a couple of years before getting a job with a more prestigious one in los angeles which prompted her move to silver lake. it’s been surprisingly difficult for her to adjust to life on the west coast. she’s a new england girl through and through and there’s just something about palm trees and sunshine that feels wrong. she also just really misses her family. well, just her mother really. they make do by facetiming twice a week and they’re even in the middle of discussing flying her out for the holidays. unfortunately, though, it’s unlikely to happen as her mother is insistent on bringing gabriel. victoire hasn’t seen or spoken to her father since the day she told him to go fuck himself and stormed out of his office. not because of any guilt from “abandoning” her father. — she’d add ‘essentially ruined my father’s political career’ to her resume if she thought it’d help her — but because she is still so damn angry. the closest thing to contact they have is him wiring her money every month. this “allowance” isn’t really needed, victoire makes a very good living without needing any of what she calls bisset blood money. but she allows it to continue because she considers it restitution for decades of lackluster parenting and lies.

where victoire really shines is her career. she’s relatively new to the scene — at least compared to most publicists in hollywood — with only seven years of experience under her belt but don’t confuse quantity with quality. if you are a public figure, you want vic on your team. she’s tenacious and, while some may view her methods as underhanded, there is no story she can’t get ahead of. and if she can’t distract from it entirely, she can turn it into a positive or at least paint her client as the victim. duis, public disagreements with significant others, leaked sex tapes. she’s seen it all. she’d dedicated to the cause and makes up her own rules, but also has a strict moral code so she won’t do something or work with someone that goes against that.

victoire thrives in social situations and really loves to hear herself talk. she also tends to assume she’s the smartest person in the room and just expects everyone to go along with what she says. and she doesn’t really handle it well when that doesn’t happen. some may say she’s stubborn, she says she’s a leader who likes to take charge and handle things. she’s a very honest and straightforward person who is clear about her intentions in a relationship whether it’s professional, platonic or romantic. she doesn’t play games, she’s not wishy-washy and she has a tendency to see the world in black and white.

coming from a long line of elitists, vic is proud to say that is at least one pattern she broke. she just isn’t one to parade around her wealth. yes, she has a nice house and she does tend to favor designer brands when it comes to clothing, but there really isn’t anything pretentious about her. the closest you’ll get is her having dinner at a five star restaurant or buying a ridiculously expensive bottle of wine. but that’s only because she likes good food and even better wine. she’s not one to show off and is just as likely to be seen at a fancy hollywood party mingling with clients as she is laying on her couch, wrapped up in blankets and watching golden girls reruns. she’s a combination of dorothy and blanche, by the way.

anyways, i think this is long enough so i’ll wrap it up and just say i am excited to be here and that i look forward to writing with you all. i’ll be reaching out to everyone regarding plots at some point (i say some point because i’m a slow typer with a small attention span who is currently working 60 hours a week so i’m easily distracted AND tired) but you can expedite the process by sending me a message or liking this and i’ll put you at the top of my list. in the meantime, though, feel free to just assume connections. we can go with the flow and i don’t require connections before interacting anyway. aaaand now i’m really stopping!

#slintro #oh my god this is a READ #i'm sorry this is so long #pls love me and her anyway

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