#i am very sorry for forgetting to crosspost this
Link
Words: 4,473
Warnings: Physical Health Discussion, Exercise Discussion, Financial Requirements Mention, Self-Defense, Food Mention, Passing Mention of homophobia
Characters: Roman, Patton, Virgil. Small Janus and Logan Sighting.
Universe: Whole Castle
Genre: Family Fluff
Additional Tags: Logan Sanders | Logic is Extra about Safety, Good Parenting for Nervous Children, Working out Big Feelings™ in a fun way, Familial/Platonic Physical and Verbal Affection, Virgil Sanders | Anxiety is a good big brother
Whole Castle
Chapter 24: Progress
Roman popped his head into Patton’s bedroom after knocking, and he sat at his table, poking around on his tablet. He didn’t normally pick the tablet over his other options, but he still wasn’t getting outside much. Patton only had educational games, so it was nice to see him playing with them on his own, but this was the fourth day in a row that he’d been sitting on the floor. The occupational therapist said that Patton wasn’t being active enough to catch up with his development.
“Patton, dear, do you want to go play on the trampoline or go to the park for a bit?” Roman offered softly. Patton shook his head in response, looking up at Roman with mild concern. Roman smiled back at him and said, “Alright, let me or Virgil know if you change your mind,” before closing the door behind him.
Roman crossed his arms and stood in the hall, wondering how to proceed. Patton wouldn’t enjoy going to a physical therapist, he knew he wouldn’t. But unless Virgil or Remus wanted to do something particularly physically involved, Patton just wasn’t interested in doing it. He tapped his chin and foot, leaning against the opposite hall for a moment. Remus was only taking violin at the moment, and he hates it, so Patton wouldn’t be interested. Roman found a ‘Fundamentals of Movement’ class for kids his age that was full of things he found fun, but without either Virgil or Remus going, he likely wouldn’t participate. Remus’s parents were very hard to convince of anything that wasn’t advanced, so he couldn’t rely on Remus attending a basics class for Patton. He didn’t know how long that unwillingness to participate was going to take to treat in therapy, either. Roman hummed in contemplation.
There might be a workaround. Something that will play to Patton’s little duckling instincts. It wasn’t surefire, but with any luck, it could be better for everyone. Roman headed farther down the hall and knocked on Virgil’s door. He could hear the TV playing softly inside. It took a moment and the TV noise paused, then Virgil called out that he could come in. Roman opened the door and saw Virgil lying on the bed with his feet up on the wall, watching TV upside down. Roman chuckled through his nose and came in, closing the door behind him so that Patton won’t hear and possibly get spooked by the discussion.
“What’s up?” Virgil asked lazily.
“Virgil, would you be interested in taking a class? Something like dance or martial arts? You seem a little cooped up in here, and it could be fun. It doesn’t have to be high pressure,” Roman asked carefully. He knew Virgil struggled with trying new things in the past and didn’t want to bring up those feelings again.
Virgil looked at Roman for a moment curiously before responding. “There’s a couple of classes I’d be interested in, but I didn’t think we had the money for that kind of thing,” Virgil replied carefully.
“I know my income is iffy at times, but we can afford it as long as it’s not too expensive,” Roman replied warily. Logan handled the budgets, so he couldn’t give specific numbers to be able to reply with, and Virgil often liked specifics for his anxiety. “But that does mean that it would be nice if I had a few options to find something we can afford as well as something that had a class for kids Patton’s age,” he clarified.
“Oh, you also want Patty out of the house? Thinking about committing crimes with Logan?” Virgil raised an eyebrow with a smirk.
“Be gay, do crimes,” Roman replied with a little shrug and a breezy smile. “Patton needs a little more exercise, and I think the best way to get him to do it is if it’s something you’re doing. I certainly wouldn’t want to deny you a fun class, either, but you never asked us about taking one. You’ll both be in different classes still because of the age groups, so you’ll still have you-time. And I’m sure Logan would try to sell getting Janus to go with you to the de—I mean, his mother—if you wanted that.”
“I call her devil-woman too sometimes,” Virgil whispered conspiratorially. “So you want me to go so Pat will go?” He asked, clearly bothered by that.
“No, I want you to go for you, and then if I am lucky, Patton will see you having fun and want to go to his own class. This is still your choice, other than the fact that we need to be able to afford it and get you there and back. If you had asked before now, we would have signed you up for something without considering him, but I’m asking now because if you have fun it might get Patton’s little need to be just like you all worked up enough so that he goes, is why I thought of it in the first place. But that doesn’t mean I’m forcing you to go to a class you didn’t choose or to attend at all.” Roman smiled at him, trying to be as reassuring as possible. He didn’t think that if he was Virgil’s age, he’d have liked the idea of having to go to get someone else to go, either.
“Oh. Okay,” Virgil accepted it very easily, much to Roman’s relief. “A mixed gender class. Aikido or Capoeira for martial arts. They’re both more defensive, which I’m kind of bad at. Kickboxing would be good, too, but I’m not sure Patty would like it. Gymnastics could be cool if the place has a lot of equipment, and it’s not just tumbling. Pat and I love playing the drums at the park, so that’s an option. No kinds of dance that aren’t a martial art. I’d be too uncomfortable, even if Pat might like it. Maybe when I’m older,” Virgil listed off, counting off on his fingers as he lay up on the bed.
“Goodness, Virgil, you’ve really thought this through,” Roman stated, rather bewildered by all the things that Virgil listed off, without looking at his phone or anything else to give him answers. He didn’t normally handle being put on the spot well for this kind of thing. Roman expected to have to get back to him at a later date.
“At least half my class is in those kinds of things. I’m mostly friends with the other scholarship kids, but I’ve heard about almost everything in the area. I kind of got jealous and looked it up, too. Feel kind of stupid for never asking, you’ve always tried to find a way to get me things I ask for, you even got that trampoline…” Virgil trailed off, looking up at the ceiling and dropping his hands to either side of him on the bed.
“It doesn’t have to be about the time, Virgil. Maybe we should have asked you, too. But we’re asking now, and we’ll see what we can do. Is there anything else you are interested in that you don’t think Patton would do?” Roman asked, just to make sure he felt like this was his decision.
“There’s a motocross class that’s pretty popular, but it sounds really expensive since the gear costs extra to rent, and you have to be at least 14 for it. It sounds extremely fun, though. There’s also a ninja-themed class that everyone talks about. You get trained to jump around and hide in the padded city in the gym. You can do stand-alone classes without signing up weekly. I’d do that just to get to see it. Everybody who’s been always raves about how fun it is,” Virgil answered quietly, noticeably uncomfortable with answering honestly.
Roman had to suppress a grimace at the motocross class. It was probably too expensive and would not pass by Logan’s silly protectiveness, but he was extremely positive that he could get Remy to take Virgil to the ninja class. Remy loved signing up Virgil for those day classes when they went out before they got Patton. If Roman chipped in a bit, maybe he could drag Janus along, too. But he had to come up with a way to distract Logan and Patton for that one so that Remy can Virgil-sit alone. Maybe some type of educational trip.
“You have a scheming face on,” Virgil pointed out, sounding very amused.
Finish Reading on AO3
#tsss#sanders sides#tsss fanfiction#sanders sides fanfiction#tsss fanfic#ayri writes#kid patton#teen virgil#dad roman#dad logan#tss#tss fanfic#i am very sorry for forgetting to crosspost this#i am terribly amused that dante can remember but I can't#i put it up on discord and was like 'welp that's that!'#whoops#i don't remember how to tag either
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terrified for how large the number on that post may be by tomorrow please don't give me any more notes. go give my friends' art more notes please and thank you <3
#I would @ them but i get nervous about @ing people in posts#eh whatever#go follow indy ind1c0lite makes some baller ace attorney art like seriously go look at their stuff right now I'm begging you)#go follow boba theyaoiparable (makes kickass tsp art like seriously. mwah. and all the effort they put into their art??? bro. go follow the#go follow parker oasisofgalaxies (my baby brother. my cringe fail loser king Love them dearly. they are funny and they are bad at games <3)#go follow wild uptheantares (not... entirely sure what they go by online but i've known them for years and their art is super good ily wild#go follow juno widdendream5 (once again!! kickass art!! They're super chill too. I think rn they're working on a slenderman project??)#i apologize i have not been keeping up too well but i know they're working on it with melody cryptidmelody and jade i-maybe-exist#who are also both lovely people by the way#god i hope this isn't crossposting a bunch of things#i'm so sorry to whomever might be looking for things and finds this post i'm so sorry#lets see whom else...#go follow class classcryptid!!! they are super cool and chill and i love thme#i am repeating myself i'm sorry i love my friends so much ;-;#oh god i cannot remember err's username it's something that is not related to what i call them at all....#FOUND IT!!#follow err adamaniline-blog very cool. very awesome. Love them so much#i need to go to bed#but before i forget#ALSO FOLLOW FISH COPEPODS#cool blogger. banger ass blog and also a fish in real life#oh yes yes! and!!!#follow indrid im-still-a-robot coolest motherfucker alive fr fr#oklay#that devolved at the end#but i love my friends gnight <3
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Hello! I just wanted to check if you're posting The Blacksmith anywhere else! I'm very much enjoying it but forgetting where I'm up to, so wondered if it was being crossposted somewhere with bookmarking! 🌻
Hey! Thank you for the ask my dear!
So full disclosure, it’s not anywhere else just yet, because I haven’t done this much writing in years, and I only recently joined AO3, which I am still trying to wrap my head around.
I do have plans to post it on there once it’s done, along with all my other recent Rings of Power related pieces, but as the story keeps getting longer, maybe I could get my shit together and start posting it? 😂 I’ll let you know when I eventually get around to it, hopefully sooner rather than later! Plus I’ll post/share it on here too.
Sorry it’s not the answer you wanted to hear! But I appreciate you reading more than I can say! ❤️
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Jam’s fanfic masterpost
a masterpost for all my published fics on ao3, linked here for easy access in case you don’t want to go searching for one in particular. if any of these interest you please check out the full fic (with tags and complete descriptions) on my ao3. will try to keep it updated, but i am pretty forgetful.
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doctor who
a hundred bad days make a hundred good stories
status: ongoing, 3/?
desc.: ( a hundred good stories make me interesting at parties )
notes: a collection of very old songfic that all had a specific focus/theme in regards to the Doctor going on. some of the very first fics i posted on ao3, and i haven’t updated this series since 2020, though i do want to get back to it and revamp it at some point.
this is home
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 2.7k
desc.: The Doctor is okay. But they forget rule number one. The Doctor lies.
notes: songfic, very very old, so expect mistakes. has been crossposted before to various platforms. focuses on the Doctor’s thought process through s12.
fire
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 3.1k
desc.: It seemed like they were always burning.
notes: songfic, very very old, so expect mistakes. has been crossposted before to various platforms. focuses on the Doctor’s relationship with fear.
99
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 5.1k
desc.: “A friendship older than your civilization and infinitely more complex.”
notes: songfic, very very old, so expect mistakes. has been crossposted before to various platforms. focuses on Doctor&Master relationship.
non-series fics
the star that fell to earth
status: complete, 1/1
rating: gen
words: « they're like a shooting star, a beautiful array of gold and blue streaking across the sky. »
desc.: 2.1k
notes: my first ever fic posted to ao3 back in spring 2020, originally written circa 2018/2019 when i first got into doctor who. has been cross-posted to various platforms, so it’s been floating around for ages. a somewhat rewritten version of “The Woman Who Fell to Earth” from Thirteen’s perspective.
don’t kill me (cus’ I’m just the messenger)
status: ongoing, 4/?
rating: teen
words: 2.9k
desc.: « The universe is waiting. »
notes: my collection of doctor who one-shots, mostly drabbles too small to fit into their own fics. updates very, very occasionally.
Respice Ad Astra
status: complete, 3/3
rating: teen
words: 19.6k
desc.: After The Doctor gets knocked into a coma, Yaz and Ryan decide to dive into their mind and try to wake them up. However, to do so, they have to travel in an hellish landscape filled with secrets from the Doctors past.
notes: my first ever multichapter fic, where i got wayyy to into the “tarot card” page of the doctor who wiki. older, but i’m still proud of it since it was, again, my first ever multichapter fic.
The Concept of Karma and Unluckiness
status: complete, 1/1
rating: gen
words: 4.7k
desc.: The Doctor is just trying to find Jack and Rose, not meet their future self at some stupid, and very boring, vacation resort. Well, it could be worse. At least they got some free custard creams out of it.
notes: one of my older fics, but i still find it enjoyable. Nine&Thirteen meeting fic.
the fifteenth letter of the alphabet
status: complete, 1/1
rating: gen
words: 3.7k
desc.: The Eleventh Doctor, on a whim, decides to give their phone number to an MI6 agent named O. Here are a few of the chatlogs that happen afterwards.
notes: chatfic spanning from Eleven’s run to Thirteen’s; no actual prose to be found here, sorry.
follow me to wonderland
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 8.6k
desc.: Yaz and Dan, they’ve been having dreams, but they haven’t felt like their own. But that’s impossible, right? It’s not like they could be having someone else’s dreams, right?
notes: trippy dream fic, i was trying to be spooky.
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little nightmares
the static and the emptiness and how you lived through it
status: complete, 3/3
desc.: When Mono and Six meet in the basement of the Hunter’s cabin, neither of them think they’ll end up sticking together. That was not how this monstrous world worked, and above all else, they need to survive. Having a friend just made it harder. Luckily for both of them, they’re wrong.
notes: little nightmares destroyed me emotionally so this is how i deal with it. focuses on Mono&Six’s relationship and features canon divergence from the you-know-what. first fic is from Mono’s POV, second is form Six’s POV, and the third is an epilogue of sorts from Runaway Kid’s POV. enjoy.
living without the fear of a monochromatic existence
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 16.1k
desc.: The story of friendship, hand-holding, and how to survive longer than those who want you dead (hint — it involves those first two things).
notes: a study on Mono&Six’s relationship, with my own headcanons thrown into the mix. canon divergence for the ln2 ending. Mono’s POV.
how life works when the sun never shines
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 37.8k
desc.: The story of friendship, hunger, and trying to save yourself when you’re so intwined with another person you don’t know where to begin (hint — telling yourself something doesn’t make it true).
notes: takes place directly after first fic in the series, canon-divergence from ln2 where Mono joins Six on the Maw. Six’s POV, and features rewritten scenes from the first fic from her perspective. tw for canon-typical Six/Lady uh. dynamic.
what it means to live when you’re no longer about to drown
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 9.6k
desc.: the story of endings. and the story of beginnings.
notes: the final fic in the series, an epilogue of sorts, takes place directly after the last fic. Runaway’s POV, features some of my (very odd) Runaway characterization and an outsider pov on Mono&Six, because i live for that shit.
non-series fics
a peripeteia that happens before you wake up
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 2.9k
desc.: The story of loneliness, the passing of time, and what happens when you’re forced into isolation when your greatest fear is being alone (hint — it’s something very not good).
notes: post-ln2 trippy piece vaguely inspired by poetry.
allusions, allegories, and other literary devices involved with friendship
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 8.8k
desc.: The story of spare change, sneaking out, and holding onto the hope that someday you’ll make it out here (hint — if you’re someone like Mono and Six, you’ll make it true).
notes: a modern au. kinda.
when smelling smokes ends up causing social anagnorisis
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 10.1k
desc.: The story of weird words, paper bags, and seeing smoke before there’s even a fire (hint — sometimes you end up causing a fire anyways).
notes: a pre-ln2 fic focusing on my headcanons about Mono’s backstory.
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moon knight (mcu)
using syzygy in place of a metaphor
status: ongoing, 3/?
desc.: After the whole deal with Harrow in Egypt, the Moon Knight system is attempting to live their new shared lives together. It’s a learning curve for all of them, but they’re trying, which is all you can really do in this situation, isn’t it?
notes: originally started as a canon divergence post-series one-shot people asked for a continuation of. focuses a lot on the Marc&Steven&Jake dynamic. i have a few plot bunnies planned for the future, but as of right now i’m focusing on other fandoms. all fics should be able to be read separately from one another.
selenography in regards to the human mind
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 6.8k
desc.: What comes after for a former gift shopist, an avatar for a moon deity, a minted taxi cab driver, a sorta ex-wife who is also an avatar for a hippo deity now, a local egyptian god, and their three goldfish.
notes: originally written as a post-canon divergence standalone; system is still Moon Knight and know about Jake. can be read separately from rest of series.
perigee as a reference point
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 13.4k
desc.: There’s a universe outside of London and Egypt, and people typically take notice when you mess with the night sky.
notes: a moon knight / mainline mcu crossover. can be read separately from rest of series.
the relation between lunar cycles and the three of hearts
status: complete, 2/2
rating: mature
words: 62k
desc.: Marc and Steven open Jake’s sarcophagus when they find it on the boat in the Duat. this changes things. this changes a lot of things.
notes: a what-if Steven&Marc opened Jake’s sarcophagus fic, chp1 is “Asylum” rewrite and chp2 is “Gods and Monsters” rewrite. can be read separately from rest of series. heed tw in the author’s notes.
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ironfamily (mcu)
i’ll become a trumpet or a drumset (in a sad orchestra)
status: ongoing, 4/6
desc.: When Pepper gives Peter Harley’s number so the two boys can chat, some … stuff happens, including a kidnapping attempt, an Iron Lad appearance, family drama, a field trip from Hell, Tony being stressed out, and possibly a few more things. This was probably a bad idea.
notes: once again meant to be a standalone fic people asked for a continuation of. focuses on Peter&Harley relationship most often, but also features irondad and the other “ironfamily” subfandom tropes. all fics feature elements of chatfics and social media, though not all are as serious as others. one more main series fic is planned, then a collection of one-shots.
come on guy (i promise everything will be alright, be okay)
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 12.9k
desc.: When Pepper gives Peter Harley’s number so the two boys can chat, it ends up with a lot of texting, some explosions, a few threats of tasering and a kidnapping attempt. That really should be expected when these two became friends, though.
notes: a Peter&Harley centric fic, from Peter’s POV, takes place in the vague hand-wavey time post-Homecoming but pre-IW. vaguely crack-treated seriously + part social media fic.
i guess the last time (you had any fun)
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 22.8k
desc.: Harley’s staying in New York permanently now, for at least his next school year. This means a new classmate at Midtown Tech, the official introduction of ‘Iron Lad’ (name still in progress) to the public, and Tony gaining a few more grey hairs from his dumbass kids.
notes: a Peter&Harley centric fic, from Harley’s POV this time. takes place directly after last fic in series. vaguely crack-treated seriously + part social media fic.
the world’s smallest violin (really needs an audience)
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 27.4k
desc.: Tony is settling into his new, weird-but-normal routine, where he is currently mentoring two chaotic kids and, apparently, actually has some people in his corner. Which is good, given the fact that the Rogue Avengers are officially being pardoned. He’s pretty sure the stress is going to kill him before superheroing does.
notes: a Civil War-fallout fic, from Tony’s POV. takes place directly after last fic in series. less cracky then the previous two, still part social media fic.
holy moly (it’s a real do-nothing day)
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 36.5k
desc.: Midtown High Academic Decathlon Team has won their national competition. Technically, they don’t get any awards other than boring money stuff from it, which when Tony Stark hears about it, he intends to rectify — meaning they get a special, end-of-the-year field trip to Stark Industries on the behalf of Tony’s two interns; Peter Parker and Harley Keener. Ugh.
notes: POV outsider on the fieldtrip trope, written after the fieldtrip trope went out of style. goes back to being vaguely crack treated seriously + part social media fic. takes place directly after last fic in series and possibly the only one (besides the first) able to be read separately, but i wouldn’t recommend it.
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the murderbot diaries
Logging Off
status: complete, 1/1
rating: gen
words: 722
desc.: Murderbot has a conversation with Dr. Mensahs daughter and reflects way more than it should.
notes: first ever Murderbot fic, written pre-Network Effect
Crossed Wires
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 4.8k
desc.: Five times a human watched Murderbot and ART interact, and one time Murderbot and ART (sort of) watched the humans interact.
notes: POV outsider on Murderbot&ART, very old with many mistakes. planning on being rewritten sometime, probably whenever the next book comes out.
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five nights at freddy’s
if you get hurt we won’t cover your loss
status: ongoing, 2/3
desc.: All Gregory wanted was a warm place to sleep and some (stolen) food, but he ends up being hunted down by murderous animatronics and security guards alike, having to quite literally fight for his life, and he can’t escape no matter what he does — given that time keeps resetting whenever he dies. Too bad Gregory isn’t going to give up on this, so whoever is trying to screw him over will just have to deal with him.
notes: my Gregory-gets-stuck-in-a-time-loop verse. currently working on an alt. pov fic with plans for the sequel in place.
the party’s never over for you
status: complete, 35/35
rating: teen
words: 265k
desc.: Gregory just wanted some free (stolen) food and a warm place to sleep, except time keeps resetting whenever he dies, and he can’t escape no matter what he does. He’s way in over his head here, isn’t he?
notes: time loop fic with found family and trauma. currently my longest fic ever, so i would suggest not reading it all in one go. you’ll lose your mind.
don’t bite off more than you can chew
status: ongoing, 1/?
rating: teen
words: 6.7k
desc.: There is something odd going on in the Pizzaplex tonight, but Freddy has decided he will do everything he can to help Gregory — this odd, lost child — escape the mall unscathed. Meanwhile, Vanessa is having, quite possibility, the worst night of her life. The other animatronics don’t remember any of this.
notes: an alt. pov companion pieces to “the party’s never over for you”, featuring even more trauma and time loop shenanigans. has no strict uploading schedule and will hopefully not be as long as the og fic, but given how long all my works end up being, we’ll have to see how it goes.
bonus: check out the tumblr tag, i answer questions about it occasionally!
non-series fics
there’s a stranger in us all
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 6.2k words
desc.: Cassidy has two separate conversation with the same weepy child, who is lonely and scared and crying. The situations are just different. But that’s what really matters here, she thinks.
notes: Cassidy&CC relationship fic, bc i love the “fucked up little kid friendship” dynamic apparently. some tw apply for canon-typical gore and child death.
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good omens
the “soldier, poet, king” collection
soldier, poet, king (old)
status: complete, 6/6
rating: teen
words: 95k
desc.: Eleven years ago, the Antichrist was born, set to bring upon the end of the world in due time. He was suppose to be delivered to the Order of the Chattering Nuns the night of his birth by the demon Crowley. And that’s what happened. Well, what everyone thinks happened.
notes: an Aziraphale/Crowley raise Adam AU, every chapter is a rewritten episode. formerly my longest ever fic, has now been bumped to second place. is currently being rewritten! (see below)
soldier, poet, king
status: ongoing, 1/6
rating: teen
words: 37.5k
desc.: Eleven years ago, the Antichrist was born. The baby was to be delivered to an order of satanic nuns by the demon Crowley and then be raised by a human family, and when he came into his powers, the Earth would end in fire and brimstone. And that is what happened. Or, what everyone believed had happened.
notes: the rewritten version of my previous Aziracrow raise Adam AU, this time featuring working footnotes and some improved prose. it also looks like it is going to be twice as long as the original version. oh boy.
non-series fics
love like yours will surely come my way
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 4.6k
desc.: Crowley made it so hard, sometimes, to be an Angel. So even though Aziraphale knows he really should be finding the Metatron and going back to Heaven, he was still here, kissing Crowley in his bookshop.
notes: s02e06 fix-it fic i wrote in a day, bc season 2 left me in shambles. written in my usual style and not my emulating style, but it’s still a fluffy, angst with a happy ending one-shot to heal any broken hearts. including my own. rip
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the mandalorian (star wars)
but when we cry, we cry together (like it was meant to be)
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 3.5k
desc.: In which Din gets injured and thinks a bit more than he should.
notes: very old, written pre-s2. the last of what i call my “early days” fics where i was still getting used to ao3 and posting my polished fics. so, expect mistakes. tw for some mild desc. of injury.
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dceu
as opposed to permanence
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 2.6k
desc.: The consequences of time travel, and what comes with being just a few seconds out-of-sync with the rest of the universe.
notes: Barry Allen time shenanigans taking place post-Snyder Cut. written before all the Ezra Miller controversies, but i still like the character.
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assorted (aka, things i’ve written for class)
The Martian
it’s far behind the stars
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 814
desc.: There’s still an entire trip back to Earth to get through, and some habits are hard to break.
notes: post-canon character study written for class.
Shakespeare
you’ve been on my mind since the flood
status: complete, 1/1
rating: teen
words: 898
desc.: The water wants Ophelia to come play. It might not just be the water.
notes: character study on Ophelia from Hamlet written for class. tw for implied character death (on par for the original play) .
#fanfic#doctor who#little nightmares#moon knight#irondad#mcu#the murderbot diaries#fnaf#fnaf security breach#good omens#the mandalorian#dceu#snyder cut#the martian#shakespeare#ao3#apologies for anyone who doesn’t want to deal with this lmao#Jam’s stuff#Jam’s ramblings
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Question about reposting to Twitter (sorry if it's silly): by reposting you just mean stuff you post here, right? You're not going to change course and only post there and not here?
I wish I could give advice otherwise, but I don't use Twitter (which is why I'm asking this in the first place) also hope you recovered well from being sick!
i've been good and healthy! thanks for the well wishes!
when it comes to this i prefer posting on tumblr massively, so don't worry about me moving and setting up there as a main platform or whatever! its comfy here! i like the base of lurkers i've cultivated.
tbh it is mostly a "i wanna post art on twitter because the fanbase is largely over there" kind of ego thing. at first, i assumed i would be posting in parallel, but.. honestly tweeting should be a spur of the moment thing for me, and i have no sense for maintaining side accounts and accounts for specific subjects in particular (this blog in and of itself is a miracle). also i feel watched if i'm out of my element. i don't think it's possible for me to suddenly switch my main hub of cell series posting unless i somehow gained a group of people to bounce off of on a daily basis. i can't use twitter just to post mindlessly like i do here, i like to be chatty instead. at least on tumblr i entertain myself. idk what the difference is. i can use my own personal account just fine weirdly enough, but side accounts never tend to work out and i forget they exist quickly.
basically all i've been wondering from anyone who may know or may be interested in seeing it... the methodology of crossposting my art to twitter when its been a while.. tbh all i draw these days are doodles and stuff that's only funny to me so the mental block is a little strong. it's like "eh... it's not worth the effort.."
initially i intended on mirroring my longer text posts too, like on fusetter or something, but eh... ehhh.... i'll just keep it on tumblr... it's the same thing isn't it. so i'm only concerned with my art right now
also i feel kinda dumb tagging most of the art whenever i post it. but i also don't have much reach on twitter yet, so posting art without tagging it and having people follow until i build something up feels pointless. but also back to the point feeling dumb, i don't mind being seen at all, but i don't want anyone to scroll and go "what's this guy doing here" and such... idk why but it's probably mental illness. i just don't like to stand out in a way that makes me look like i'm trying too hard. but idk how to appear effortless (<-see i overthink too much, there's probably nothing of the sort going on)
but i want to at least semi-cultivate a habit of crossposting stuff even if it's not all of it!! idk if that makes sense.
ironically i think there is very little audience on tumblr compared to twitter for the corner/niche i've accidentally occupied (i.e. being obsessed with the interlude+com+characters that barely exist for some reason especially since i don't post about the main game that much anymore). also just in general i feel like my way of thinking is too strange. i can't fathom that people keep coming back to check over here. thank yew🥺🩷 (<-he was shot out back for this)
every day i am perplexed why this blog has people keeping watch on it, i feel very humbled and happy about it but i also scratch my head a little bit. it's very fun even if confusing. i like the level of interaction i have. so i'm not gonna switch over...!!! don't worry!!!
at the very least i have every intention continuing to archive my art in the poipiku attached to the twitter account... the twitter account itself however, is at a standstill, i have no idea what to do with it, which is why i'm doing the last ditch "phone-a-follower" effort
#ask#anonymous#sorry i talked your ear off even though you have no advice for me#i do be a blabbermouth#maybe someone will see the specifics and know how to handle this...#tl;dr i like when people see my art ^_^#my art is for sharing after all
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One Last Night In Madripoor (An 18+ Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)
Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?
Tags: Smut, SoftDom!Zemo, Hook Up, Semi-Public Sex, Drinking, Safe Sex, Explicit Consent, First Meeting, Wall Sex, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Swearing, Explicit Sexual Content
Word Count: 4200~
This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!
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Madripoor was a place like nothing you had ever seen.
It wasn’t that the sights were anything special. You could find seedy criminal underbellies lined with neon where the streets ran red with blood anywhere if you looked hard enough. Even the ocean view didn’t do much to set it apart from any other place visually. No, Madripoor’s scenery and architecture weren’t what kept your eyes wide with wonder whenever you found yourself wandering through the winding back-alleys without a purpose. It was the people that kept you around.
Thieves, pirates, and miscreants had been taking shelter at the docks since before anyone there could remember. It was a city borne of the underbelly of society, the people nobody sees, but you saw them. You saw them every day when you stood in the main market waiting for an easy bounty. There were faces everywhere; big and small, tall and short, scarred and flawless. No two people in the streets of Madripoor were ever exactly alike. If you needed to remember someone, their unique face was right there waiting in your mind.
After living on the island for almost 6 months, most people were already cataloged neatly in your mind as friend or foe. This man, though, he was new. He was different.
The night was still young. There was some trouble at the Princess Bar that ended with Selby dead and a few murderers loose in the streets with a price on their heads, but you steered clear. Going after the killers meant going up against hundreds if not thousands of trained bounty hunters and assassins and no amount of money was worth dying over now, not while you were so close to freedom. Instead of chasing your doom, you decided to head to your room, get dressed up, and head out to wherever the music was loudest in search of a place to forget about your problems for the night. The thudding sounds of poorly DJ-ed club remixes led you to Leonardo’s Place. That’s where you found him.
You were two drinks in and sticking close to the wall when he stumbled into your line of sight. What initially caught your eye was his dancing. He couldn’t move for shit. What kept your attention, though, was his face.
There was transience to him, like at any moment someone could bump into him and he would disappear without a trace at their touch. Despite that he was gaudy. Everything about his clothing screamed wealth and fine taste from the thread count of his obnoxious purple turtleneck to the shine on his boots. He was strange, a walking contradiction, and one who had never had the pleasure of gracing your presence or screwing you over in the past. In the simplest of terms, he intrigued you. With nothing left to lose you downed the last of your cocktail and made your way to the gap in the crowd where the stranger had staked his claim. It was game time.
“You come here alone?” You asked. Your voice was barely a whisper above the heavy thrumming of the music.
He gave you a long look up and down before answering as if he were trying to size you up. Something about having his gaze linger on your body made your heartbeat soar. “I’m not looking for company,” His accented tone was gruff but left a sliver of room for reconsideration. You took the chance. What could go wrong?
With as much tact and grace as you could muster you let yourself slip a little closer to him. “What, do I look too expensive for you?” you teased, before backing off with a grin, “Thanks for the compliment, but I’m not here for that. My job is a little more… dangerous.” As you danced, the hem of your dress rode up your thigh just enough to reveal the knife holster in your garter belt. It pleased you greatly to see this handsome stranger do a double-take; that meant he was looking at your upper thigh in the first place. “I just liked what I saw in you… do you like what you see in me?”
Somehow, your little joke had endeared him to you, however minutely. Instead of brushing you off the man paused his jerky dancing for a moment to really take you in. Then, he caved. “Would you like a drink?” He asked.
You smirked. “Who would I be if I turned down a free drink from a handsome stranger,”
He met you in the middle as he offered you his hand. “I never promised it would be free,”
So, the two of you found yourselves at the bar, bodies leaned into each other and away from the rest of the sweltering crowd as the bartender slid you your order. The stranger was drinking a brandy straight while you opted for a sidecar. It was enough alcohol that you were starting to feel pretty buzzed, but you still felt in full control of yourself. You took a long sip before speaking. “So, what should I call you?”
It took him a moment to respond but once he did, he seemed sure of himself. “You can call me Helmut, but Baron is fine as well,”
You cocked up an eyebrow. “Is that a nickname?”
“More of a title,”
He took a drink as you gawked. “Like royalty?”
“Not like. I am,”
Your cheeks flushed. The rational part of your mind was so stunned by the ease with which Helmut lied that it seemed to short circuit completely, leaving you very puzzled and more than a little intrigued. “Well, pardon me, Mr. Baron. What’s royalty like you doing in a place like this?”
“There are plenty of reasons a man like me would have business here. A woman as beautiful as you, though… not so much,” he waved his hand in loose gestures as he spoke, “Why risk your life and beauty for this? A life living in the underground where you cannot so much as dream of seeing the stars?”
You finished your drink in one large swig. It burned down your throat but you relished in the pain. “Not all of us are lucky enough to be born in a place where we can see the stars. Funny enough, though, I’m just about to get out,”
“Is that right?”
“I finally saved up enough money from small jobs to buy my way out from under the Power Broker’s thumb,” Something about the way Helmut smiled at you made you feel safe. It was like you could tell him your worst, darkest secrets and not feel an ounce of fear or guilt. “I’m nothing special here, a small-time bounty hunter, and I kept it that way for a reason. I’m not valuable and I don’t know much. If I just pay my dues and keep the money coming until I can get their claws out of my back, I should be free to leave with a freighter tomorrow morning,”
Helmut was quick to respond. “Ah, travel by freighter. It’s terribly dangerous to be a stowaway, you know? Impossible to predict quite what the seas will be like,”
“Well, that’s just a risk I’ll have to take to get out of here and stop… what was it that you said I was doing? Risking my life and beauty?”
The two of you chuckled as Helmut took one last drink to empty his glass. Then, the conversation stilled. Around you people were alive, gyrating to the music as their pulses thumped to the beat, but it was like they weren’t even there. Instead, your whole being was focused on the strange man in front of you who had stolen away your sensibilities with his cool tone and thick accent. He made you feel alive. No, more than alive. Every color was brighter, every sound was sharper, every sip of your drink was crisper. He was a once-in-a-lifetime man, and this was a once-in-a-lifetime night. Oh, to hell with it!
“I like you, Baron,” you purred, pressing yourself close to him. His breath hitched the moment you touched him. He acted as if it had been a very long time since he was last touched like that. “And I think you like me too. In fact, I think you like me enough that we should take this conversation somewhere a little more private. What do you say?”
He didn’t respond. Instead, his gloved hand made its way around your wrist, and in a moment’s time, he was pulling you across the crowded dance floor towards a small, secluded hallway. You assumed that meant yes.
The instant you made it to the shelter of the shadows Helmut was on you like a man starved. One of his hands was quick to explore the skin just above the hem of your dress as the other pressed against the wall, caging you in and holding you as a more than willing hostage to his affections. He didn’t kiss your face, and you weren’t complaining about that, but he did put his mouth to good use sucking a dark bruise into your collarbone. His ministrations only stopped when a high, keening sound escaped your lips.
“You like that, don’t you, meine kleine schlampe?” he growled through gritted teeth. Something about his tone turned your already weak legs to jelly. The second you went limp in his grip, though, he pulled back. Straightening himself out, he offered you a steadying arm. You took it without hesitation. “I’m terribly sorry to be so rude. I assure you that I am not usually the type of man to hook up with someone on a whim, I’ve simply been… indisposed for many years and haven’t had many opportunities for pleasure, especially not with a woman as beautiful as you,”
His compliment was enough to have you blushing like a schoolgirl. You had killed more people than you could reasonably count, and probably fucked even more, but something about the way Helmut looked and sounded and acted made you feel almost innocent to his advances. He was a drug and you needed to get your fix before he disappeared forever.
“Does that mean you think I’m special?” You asked, all doe eyes with an innocent smile. Helmut ate it right up.
“Yes, schatzi. Very special,”
You hitched a leg up, letting your heel dig into his expensive dress pants and drag him closer to you once again. “First your little slut and now your little treasure? Which one is it, Helmut?”
“And so smart,”
“Move, Baron!”
At your insistence, Helmut was on you once again, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down your neck as he fiddled with his gloves, yanking them off and shoving them in his back pocket before he continued. “So demanding,” he chided, and yet he continued to lavish you with affection, his hand climbing higher and higher up your thigh. Your back was pressed flush to the wall now, and you were painfully aware of just how warm Helmut was. He smelled like a rich man’s cologne and yet his skin tasted of cheap soap when you leaned in to give him a bruise of his own.
“You love it,” you replied. He let out a husky laugh.
“I suppose I do,” he chuckled, and then his fingers brushed over your core. Your knees buckled. Helmut kept you upright with his body as he continued to taunt you through your underwear, but he seemed more confident now, almost cocky. “My needy schatzi, have you no patience?”
Your response was breathless; a confession.
“Not with you,”
Something about your words lit a fire in Helmut’s eyes. In an instant he had your leg hiked up while he ground his hardened length against your clothed wetness. Your mind went blank. He felt big. A mindless whimper fell from your lips.
“How do you want me?” Helmut asked. As he spoke he ran a light finger down your elevated thigh. You offered up another whimper. “I’ll need you to use your words and tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you,” His tone had you wet enough that you worried you were dripping.
With a gulp, you managed to fumble out the words. “I’ll blow you first if you promise to fuck me,”
That had him grinning like a wolf. “Perhaps you are my little schlampe, so eager to get down on your knees for me…” And you were. Even on shaky legs, you found yourself happily falling to your knees as the Baron fumbled with his fly. It was only then that you found yourself gazing down the hall towards the cacophony of lights and sounds and people maybe 20 feet away from your hiding place in the shadows. As if he could sense your discomfort, Helmut paused. “Are you alright?”
You nodded quickly. “I just forgot we were out in the open for a second,”
“Do you want to stop? If the location is the problem, I would gladly pause so we can find a new hideaway,” he stopped short, looking down and meeting your heavily lidded gaze, “or perhaps the idea of putting on a show excites you?” Your heart jumped out of your chest. Helmut noticed. “Well, if my little schlampe is so keen on putting on a show, she should get a move on,”
That was your cue to get to work. In a swift motion, you finished unzipping his fly and shifted his boxers, letting his lovely cock spring free. It was a pleasant penis and far as they went, average in length but thick with a leaking purple tip at half-mast. Just looking at it made you clamp your legs together.
Slowly, you gave a tentative lick up the underside of his length. He felt heavy on your tongue in the best of ways. Helmut jerked upward, a man possessed. You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s been a long time, huh?”
“Less talking, more working little schlam-” you cut Helmut off quickly by taking most of his length into his mouth. That seemed to shut him up. His wolf-like grin had dissolved into a slack-jawed mess the second you started to suck him off. Oh, this was going to be fun.
For the most part, the Baron let you set the pace, bobbing your head and taking as much of his length as you comfortably could, but after a short while his hands were buried in your hair as he fought the urge to buck into your throat, hard. With a particularly rough snap of his hips, Helmut pulled away.
“You are an angel from heaven, schatzi,” he groaned, pulling himself slowly from your mouth as you got your first good deep breath in a while, “but a deal is a deal, and it wouldn’t be quite fair if I got to have all the fun, now would it?” Your breath hitched in your throat. Finally time for the main event.
Helmut was surprisingly gentle with you as he offered you a hand and helped you back up, only pausing to wipe a line of dribble off your chin with his thumb. With anyone else, it would have felt wholly humiliating but with Helmut… well, it did things to you you would rather not admit. You quirked up an eyebrow, though, when he got on his knees in turn, mirroring your past position. “What are you doing, Baron?”
“I simply assumed my sweet schatzi would enjoy a reward for taking my cock so well,” his words had you biting your lip as your cheeks flushed, “now be a good girl and take what I give you. I want to hear those pretty noises you made earlier,” With that, his face disappeared under your skirt. He pulled down your panties and… snickered?
“What now?” you groaned, squirming as his hot breath hit your exposed nub.
“You’re sopping wet,” he replied. Out of habit, you moved to shut your legs but found Helmut’s large hand was holding them open. “I do enjoy being sandwiched between your thighs, but you shouldn’t hide yourself from me. Take your pleasure. You’ve earned it,” That was when he began his assault on your folds.
You had been with plenty of partners over the years, all with varying proficiencies when it came to giving pleasure, but no one had ever made you feel quite as good as Helmut did while you gripped his hair and rode his face with reckless abandon. He always hit just the right spot, alternating between sucking on your sensitive clit and running his rough tongue in sloppy circles against it. In no time flat your pleasure was building toward’s its peak as your knees trembled.
“Helmut,” you squeaked, “Helmut I’m gonna cuuuUUOH!”
You were suddenly thrown over the edge of pleasure as the Baron worked you open with his fingers, pressing that spot inside of you just right. It was a revelation. Nothing would ever compare to him and you hadn’t even fucked yet. Once you had regained some semblance of stability he emerged from his place between your thighs, face slick with your juices, wearing the expression of a cat that got the cream.
“You make such lovely sounds for me, schatzi,” Helmut groaned, rising from his place at your feet and reaching into his pocket. While he fumbled for a condom you took the time to actually remove your panties, lifting one shaky leg at a time before balling them up and tossing them on the ground. You could grab them later. Or not! In all honesty, your ruined undies were the last thing on your mind as your watched Helmut roll the condom onto his proud cock, pumping himself a few times. “Now, are you sure you want this?”
You had never felt more sober in your whole life despite the drinks you’d downed earlier.
“God, yes,”
“Wonderful,”
He caged you into his body once again, lining himself up on your slick folds, and then with a pronounced bite against your collarbone, he was entering you. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, you just felt full, like a missing piece of your body had been completed. For the first few thrusts, you were too blissed out to really take note of anything around you, but once you tuned back into the world of the living you realized Helmut was talking. Well, babbling was more like it. He seemed to simply be speaking his stream of consciousness into your ear as he pistoned in and out of you like a madman. There was a jilted rhythm to it, but the abnormality kept you on your toes.
“I won’t be letting you go any time soon, schatzi, and definitely not on some dank freighter like a rat from the gutters. No, you will travel with me. Once I help my friends and slip away from the front lines I can take you anywhere your little heart desires. Paris, Vienna, Australia… Mein Gott, what a sweet cunt,”
Any sane woman, after hearing his sex-drunken musings, would have run. They would have heard the wild ramblings of a madman and left after their little fling was done to never see him again. It was only rational. He didn’t even know your real name. Sane women didn’t run away with strangers claiming to be barons they hooked up with in a seedy club selling stolen Van Goghs in a hub of the criminal underworld.
The only thing was, though, that you weren’t a sane woman.
You were a killer, a child left in the streets to live or die who had scraped themselves together and dragged themselves towards life. So what if the idea of some rich mysterious benefactor with a good dick coming in to save the day sounded fantastic? It was fantastic. Like your own personal version of Pretty Woman. Even if he wasn’t as rich as he claimed to be, being poor and getting dicked down by him was better than being poor and alone.
For just a moment, and with no regrets, you let yourself get lost in the fantasy and just let go.
It was as if Helmut could sense a difference.
“Are you close, little schlampe?” He gasped, letting his thrusts take on a faster staccato rhythm.
You could do little more than moan and nod as he pounded you into the wall. That seemed to be enough for him to get the message, though.
“What a good girl,” he purred. His mouth was so close to your ear, his hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh with each heaving breath he took. As he chased his own climax, he brought a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight, wet circles around your clit. It was already sensitive, your body was only barely recovering from your first orgasm, and yet something about the overstimulation was thrilling, like racing towards an impossible dream. With a shout, you came for the second time, melting into Baron Helmut’s arms as he quickly followed.
The two of you stayed there, slumped against the cool wall and still connected by your dripping sexes, for a few moments, breathing heavy. Surprisingly, you were the first to speak.
“Wow,” you breathed, letting a soft laugh escape your lips.
Helmut returned the sentiment. “You were wonderful,” In a strange moment of intimacy, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, but then he pulled out, tying off the full condom and tossing it to the ground as he tucked himself back into his boxers and zipped up his fly.
“Are you just gonna leave that there?” you made a gesture towards his litter.
“They have janitors,”
A burbling laugh escaped from your lips. “That they do,”
Back in the main room of the party, the crowd had only grown larger as the night progressed. Nobody had seen you, nor had they noticed your cries as they danced and drank and made merry under the neon lights. You were, for all intents and purposes, invisible at Helmut’s side. Within and without. There was something exhilarating about knowing he was the only one that truly saw you in a room packed with hundreds. It was like something out of a twisted fairytale.
“So…” you broached the subject gently while you pulled down your dress to protect your modesty, “Did you mean what you said back there about Paris and Vienna, or…”
“Oh, you heard that?”
You snickered. “It was pretty hard not to with you breathing in my ear,”
“I apologize,” he leaned against the wall beside you, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, “but yes, I meant what I said. I-”
Suddenly, from down the hall, a booming voice interrupted your moment.
“There you are!”
“Goddamnit, Zemo, I thought we told you to stay low not hire an escort,”
There, at the mouth of the hallway, stood two massive men. They were obviously displeased, and though their faces were obscured by the lights you could tell you weren’t the one they were after.
They called him Zemo… where had you heard that name before?
Helmut stepped away from the wall with a shrug. “At least I didn’t cause a scene by forgetting to put my phone on silent,”
The larger of the two men stayed where he was, while the other walked to meet the Baron in the middle.
“I swear to God, man, you’ve gotten ten times more insufferable since I learned you were rich.
The Baron shrugged. “It comes with the territory,”
“But you don’t have to be such a jackass about it,”
You felt it was a good time to chime in.
“Thank you so much for that, Helmut, but I think I should give you guys some privacy,” you said, straightening out your dress and walking deeper into the hallway. There had to be an exit somewhere…
“Wait!” When you turned, you found Helmut rushing to meet you. The men in the background looked shocked and almost smug. “Save your money. Meet me out at the airstrip tomorrow afternoon if you feel like seeing me again. If not, know that the Power Broker doesn’t let go of assets cheap, and you just slept with a man with a million dollar bounty, so buying your freedom isn’t an option. If you want to go without me, you’ll have to hitch a ride on a cargo ship but not as a stowaway. Working for your keep is the best way to stay under the radar. Nobody can touch you once you’r-”
You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ll see you at your private jet, Baron,”
He smirked. “So you will,” With as much gusto as a man could muster, he returned to his companions but not before offering one last goodbye. “Farewell, schatzi, until tomorrow,”
As you leaned up against the wall once more, you watched them go with a twinkle in your eye.
“Who was that?”
“None of your business, James,”
“Guys, what the hell did I just step on?”
“I believe that was my used rubber,”
“ZEMO!”
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a/n: I hope you enjoyed the filth! I haven’t written for Zemo before, even though I’ve loved him for years, but he’s definitely going into my main rotation now. If you have any ideas, send them my way! I’d love to fill the void, because there just aren’t very many Zemo x reader fics out there. If you enjoyed this, maybe reblog or leave a comment! I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks again!
Please do not post my works to any other sites, thanks! <3
#oh my god this is filth#Would you believe I wrote my first smut like a week ago?#zemo#baron zemo#helmut zemo#zemo x reader#helmut zemo x reader#baron zemo x reader#marvel#falcon and winter solider series#fatws#bucky barnes#sam wilson#smut#marvel fanfiction
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Just found your writing and I am obsessed! I loved your "Mother Knows Best" work! I thought a similar one with Shinsou Hitoshi would be funny, except it's like Aizawa and Eri trying to play the wingman/woman/child, I'm a sucker for the EraserMic family to be honest! Sorry if this is too specific, have a nice day xx
Little Bird (Shinsou x Reader)
I know its been a very long while since I’ve posted anything, I am in a bit of a rut and haven’t written in months but I was able to get a little bit of inspiration today!
In the meantime, requests are open and this was crossposted to my AO3.
(g/n reader, gender is not specified)
__
“Your cheeks are red.” “I’m just cold, it’s fine.” Hitoshi grumbled, shuffling Eri in his arms to knock his free hand against the door of the Class 1A dormhouse. Eri looked down at her sweater before shyly back up at Hitoshi with her wide eyes. “Do you want my sweater?” He held back a snort at the thought before shaking his head. “I think I’ll be fine, thank you though.” A small hum left her, and he shuffled her in his arms slightly. It was a miracle to Shinsou how far Eri had come under Aizawa’s watch. She used to be terrified of Hitoshi at the beginning, not that he blamed her.
And funnily enough, now she seemed to prefer him over Mirio or Izuku.
The door opened to reveal Izuku, Uraraka, and Tsuyu with wide smiles. “Eri! I’m so glad to see you again!” At the sound of Deku’s voice, Eri’s grip on Hitoshi’s shirt instantly tightened.
Here we go again.
“Eri, you gotta let go, I have to go practice with Aizawa.” “I can go with you, please?” Sighing through his nose, he shook his head. “C’mon, what if I drop by the store and get some apples?” She seemed to ponder it for a second, before shaking her head. This little clingy stage she was going through was simultaneously his most and least favorite.
“Well aren’t you a good big brother?”
He immediately stiffened at the cooing that came from behind the trio, your voice making his cheeks burn slightly. “Hitoshi and Mr. Aizawa took me to the park, and he pushed me on the swings. I went so high, it was fun!” Eri grinned, the feeling of your eyes focused intently on him made him cringe.
But then again, your attention on him didn’t feel terrible. He hadn’t felt this watched since the sports festival, with all the audience and cameras watching him— even then that did seem less stressful than your eyes focused on him.
“Toshi, you’re red again.” Eri innocently mentioned, patting his cheeks slightly. Taking advantage of the distraction, he quickly set her down with a sigh before crouching down to her level. “I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours. Get Midoriya to call if anything happens, okay?” She immediately nodded with a smile.
“Aw c’mon Shinsou, do you not trust us?” Your smile was bright as your fingers combed through Eri’s hair gently, and until that moment he’d never been this jealous over a child. “I know better than to trust you guys, don’t get her into any trouble.” He kept his voice flat despite the anxiousness in his chest. “I’ll make sure she stays out of trouble.” Reluctantly he nodded, getting up from his crouch, nudging Eri inside.
“Don’t forget my apples!” He sighed, smiling slightly as the door shut in front of him. Eri really had come so far these last few months, already becoming much more vocal with her wants than she had ever been since he’d met her.
If only he could be the same.
—
Practice was brutal: hand to hand combat was never his favorite and Aizawa was definitely exploiting his lack of speed. With practice and running off campus to get the promised fruit, the sun was already setting and the only sound was the buzzing of the lights.
UA was peaceful for once, his mind itself was peaceful for once. He’d been promised his spot in the hero course, he had a mentor teaching him, and he had Eri to bring some brightness in his life. Then again, it wasn’t quite everything he wanted.
Everything he was wanting was sitting right there on the steps of the 1A dormhouse, holding onto a sleeping Eri tightly.
“You two should be inside, you know better L/n.” He hoped his voice hid the excitement he felt as you stood up, his arms instantly taking Eri into his own arms, her head resting on his shoulders. “Well I would have waited inside, but you were running late and she got worried about you.” He softened ever so slightly, a grunt leaving him in acknowledgment. “So why is it you out here instead of Midoriya?” “Would it be bad to say I wanted to see you?” That got the flush back on his face and neck, mouth pressed into a thin line at that.
Would it be so bad if he liked that answer? Would it be bad to say he wanted to see you as well?
“Do what you want, I have to get Eri home.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them, but they didn’t seem to deter you all that much— seeing as you were already following right behind him as he started to make his way to the teachers’ dorms. “I’ll come with!” Was everyone in 1A this friendly?
Of course, he didn’t mind it all too much when it was you tagging along with him.
A comfortable silence washed over the two of you, the only interruption being the sound of Eri’s quiet snoring as she snoozed away. Footsteps on the concrete and the light breeze rolling in only made his inner anxieties quell. “You know… Eri really adores you, you’re all she’d talk about today.” You hummed, eyes darting over to take in the sight of Shinsou holding the girl he practically thought of as a little sister. If you’d known better, it almost seemed like he was taking on a more fatherly role than just a caretaker.
“She’s not good at keeping secrets you know.” You cheekily added, making him nearly stop in his tracks. He had no secrets, or at least no secrets that he’d told Eri. His own eyes glanced at you quickly before focusing back on the path before him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lamely mumbled, ignoring the feeling of you watching him.
“Well… a little bird told me that you like it when I’m around, and that’s the reason you drop her off every Sunday.” Hitoshi grimaced, in hindsight maybe he shouldn’t have always jumped at the opportunity to go to the 1A dorms, and he especially should have hidden it more from Eri.
But he didn’t, and now he had two options: tell the truth, or ruin any chance he had with you.
“What about it?” He could feel the grin on your face, your hand carefully linking around his arm as to not interrupt his hold on Eri. “I like spending time with you too Shinsou.” His corner of his lips quirked up slightly as your body pressed into his side.
“Good to know.”
Being late was worth the scolding he’d gotten from Aizawa.
Masterlist
#bnha#mha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#boku no hero academia#my hero academy#bnha shinsou#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou x reader#mha shinsou#hitoshi shinso x reader#boku no hero imagines#my hero academy imagines#my hero imagines#my writing#requests
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Fic writer review [Or a fic writer tag game if you prefer]
I was tagged by @naralanis and I can already see her grin all the way from where I am xd Thank you, dear, for the tag, let’s see what are my answers, shall we.
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
*bursts out laughing* Adding both pseuds I have… 535 according to the account info but by counting them all I’m reaching 541 so I’m guessing it’s counting some drafts I need to re-find.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
I seriously hated you for this one xd I was going to do it by hand by I decided one-third there that I value my mental stability a little bit more xd according to the stats page back at a03 that number would be 1257884. It may be wrong. I think there should be a few more numbers up there but the majority of my works are one-shots so *shrugs* There’s also the fact that counting my ao3 things only is shaving off like half of it Xd Anyway, can we laugh at the fact that I’m a pain in the ass and that I’ve written a lot? More than I should have, that’s for sure
3. How many fandoms have you written for?
Trick question because I haven’t crossposted everything I wrote back in ffnet and I actually erased some fics from my account back there so the numbers are a little blurry there.
When I had the entirety of my work posted both in ffnet and a03 I had written for: Twilight (Bella/Alice) Glee (Faberry and there were a couple Pezberry and I don’t fucking remember the pairing name for Santana and Quinn), Harry Potter (Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Bellatrix) OUAT (SwanQueen and several oneshots focusing on the mad hatter and the blue fairy solely back at ffnet that were written in Spanish and never translated), I actually had a veeeery old au prompt of Frozen (Elsanna in where I wrote them as non sibilings), Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles), Dishonored 2 (Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew), Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, Supergirl (SuperCorp/Supercat) I had a 100 one -or maybe two??- (Clexa), The Shannara Chronicles (Amberle/Eretreia [Or Princess Rover], Rwby [Blake Belladona/Yang], The Worst Witch (Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle), The Half of it, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Madam Satan/Zelda Spellman) and… I think that’s it(?) I may be forgetting some but probably nothing important if I’m not remembering it lol.
4. Top 5 fics by kudos?
Ah, we are going to go there, uh? Xd My works are not the kudos and comment getting type Xd So I was quite surprised when I went to check this.
1: Cracked it I wrote this one back in 2017, it was a prompt done by an anon: Lena is nerding with one of her projects at home, mumbling mostly to herself because she’s stuck and Kara casually mentions how to solve the problem like it’s nothing. I really had some fun with this. It was back when some us, SQeeners were fully doing the jump between OUAT and SuperGirl (I mean, there had already been some crossover as for fandom is related but this when the girls were actually getting their conjoined voice within the fandom)
2: Dateless I honestly needed to check what this one was about but I think I can see why this one shot has the amount of kudos it has. It’s a short and sweet idea and responds to the Teachers Au that went SO well with SQ. Everyone thinks they hate each other and try to set them up with other people whilst they, in truth, are dating. I don’t remember if I wrote them as married rather than dating but despite being from 2017 as well is one cheeky enough to be cool Xd I probably would edit some lines now *shudders*
3: After you I truly didn’t expect this one to be top 3. Makes me think of a lot of things, if I’m being honest Xd. After you was a one shot written almost feverishly as an answer to the fabulous drawings that Sejic did of both Lara Croft and Wonder Woman back at 2018 or something. It’s just Lara and Diana being himbos but not at all with each other.
4: How about… How about is one I remember perfectly, it was my answer to the ending of the Half of it film. I had SOME thoughts about it, let’s just stop there Xd I really liked the film itself but I think and I thought at the time that my response to wishing for a final scene at the very end of the credits responds to me being in a different personal moment than the characters. I really wanted to explore my feelings about it and so I wrote about them finding each other again after some time passes. It was also something I wrote after quite the hiatus so I took it as something I could write about without focusing too much on the why.
5: Come to me
Ahh, SuperCorp Xd I remember this one actually. A friend of mine and I were talking about descriptions, and she mentioned quite off-handedly how she wanted a fic in where Kara’s back was described. I complied… more or less.
Fun tidbit, despite the big volume of my work is obviously set in ouat there’s only 1 SQ fic there as you can see, the others are either SuperCorp or the random one shots I created for Wonderwoman/Lara Croft and The half of it. *sighs in deep thought* I’m also not going to look too much into how almost all of the fics were posted and written back in 2017. Nope, not at all.
*Small voice screaming you peaked in 2017 and everything else is garbage jumps back and forth*
5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?
I tend to always respond, yup. I truly value comments. I might have gone for spells of time in where I didn’t have the mental capacity to check in old fics because I truly didn’t know what to answer but I treasure every single comment and you all who comment know that I can start to ramble in the answers xd -sorry about that- I really really REALLY love interaction.
6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending:
Ok, Nara, come on, this one is a catch for me. I’ve written angst in far too many fics to remember the angstiest one :P I have the most recent one, though, that is the easy one to think about: Goodbye.Written for @delirious-comfort. I’m just going to say “Kisses with their last dying breath” as an idea of what awaits inside but I’ve written about death and loss and angst quite a lot. There were some I wrote back to SQ with Regina needing to kill Emma during the Dark Swan arc that, to this day, I still love and some others in where Regina is the one that dies, again and again, trapped by magic while Emma watches. I have the loss in mental destruction form and… I REALLY like my angst y’know xd
7. Do you write crossovers?
Not counting Lara and Wonder Woman not really! I think it comes from the fact that I loooove worldbuilding as a whole and some pairings would require all my focus into making the world perfect which in turn would make me self conscious on the OOCness of it all.
8. Ever received hate on a fic?
*snorts* I’ve received hate due to the pairing I’ve written about, how I’ve written about it, the amount I’ve written, how slow or quick I can be, the usage of some tropes, the lack of usage of those same tropes… Let’s just go with: yuuuup.
9. Do you write smut?
I’ve written smut, yeah! But I can already see the pointed looks of some so let’s elaborate Xd I write smut when asked and sometimes when not asked but there’s a part of me I like to call a terrible tease that prefers writing the beginning of a scene, taunt it, focus on what happens before the sex scene per se as I find it more enjoyable to write. The process of escalation is always the best for me to see what can I do it by using both dialogue and descriptors tbh, so I tend to tease more than show.
9. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
A few weeks ago I’d have said: Maybe(?) But trying to follow the trail of some other fics that had been stolen from some friends -I think it was me trying to find more about the page that stole something from your Nara!- I found some pages in where my fics had been reposted. In some it was stated that the person posting the fic wasn’t the author but I had never been contacted in order to see if I’d say yes to such a thing and in some others the page was locked up but I could still see someone was pretending to be the author. I did the thing and got some of those down.
Pointed note: Ask me if you want to post or translate or anything. I will look into you and answer you if you seem honest about the thing. But despite every joke and self-deprecating comment those 500 and then some fics represent MY time so very kindly I say fuck off to those who wish to steal from me and if I catch you… you don’t really want to see me angry, trust me.
10. Ever had a fic translated?
I’ve given permission to some, yeah, but never heard it back from them so I’m guessing it didn’t stick.
12. Have you ever co-written a fic?
I’ve written series alongside other authors as @stregaomega for example. And some others that are unpublished -looking at you @carsonnieve - I’ve also done collabs… but fics co-written in the sense of two authors same chapters I don’t have anything posted I’m afraid :P
13. All-time favourite ship?
*snorts*, I guess the obvious answer is SQ uh? And I do think they were the ones that allowed me to read and write SO much. The one I feel more strongly about, however, is Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13.
14. WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?
All of them counts as a valid answer? But if I only could finish one that would be Arcadia. With A forgotten Promise second and the one I did as an Assassins Creed AU third. (I don’t remember the name so there’s no link, sorry xd)
15. Writing strengths?
Uhhhh, you REALLY want me to say that? I don’t fucking know!! To me everything I write is garbage. I always try to go for the feelings so I guess. Dunno xd I’ve been told I’m good at worldbuilding and to be honest is what I enjoy the most.
16. Writing weaknesses?
Everything Xd Pacing? What I hate the most sometimes is dialogue, I would count it as a weakness but I’m always far too focused on description rather than dialogue. I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se but it’s something that I don’t do as much.
17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
I’m conflicted. Always. Majorly because I think that having bilingual characters in fanfiction is portrayed and expected in a way that I don’t feel it’s honest with how bilingual people -us- talk. So if I go by what I know I do I think it’s not what readers hope to see when it comes to that and if I go for how canonically is hoped to be found I don’t think it’s logical. But that’s me and my overthinking Xd If I have the option I like to do it.
18. First fandom you ever wrote for?
Belice! Or Bella/Alice. Worst first fic ever but oh, well, I’m always saying that :P
19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?
Uhh… Don’t make me do this XD Agh, I don’t know. I’ve always been very vocal about Metallic Ink because I let myself enjoy the process of creating a magic system almost out of zero and that was fun. Despite hating some of the writing process and that I’d do it differently now I think I’m going to stick with that answer. Or anything that had any steampunk-based undertone. To be honest I like more thinking of concepts, I had one in where Emma was a thief and it involved the robbery of a ring that was Regina’s one way ticket to freedom I then later repurposed that I adored thinking about so let’s go with…. Yeah, I love having the option of changing things up a little and focus on how characters would fit in different aesthetics for this one Xd
Annnd… these are four pages, gods. I’m just going to tag @waknatious @carsonnieve @stregaomega here and see what they do- Enjoy the questionnaire ladies :P
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BlazBlue Alternative Dark War Nightmare Fiction Event English Translation (Part 8: At the Edge)
IT’S FINALLY OVER! -cue game over music-
PLEASE READ THIS FIRST:
I realize this isn’t getting as much (actually not much of any) traffic as opposed to the reddit posts, but I’d like to extend this request over here as well.
I’d definitely like to continue working on translations for this game but am unsure whether I should jump right into the most current event (the Dark Mai one) or start on actual story content next. So my question is: what do you guys want to see more? Reply to this post or shoot me an ask or whatever it is tumblr does these days.
Crossposted from reddit just for a little more exposure.
This is part 8, or the ninth story quest in the event.
Previous parts can be found here: [Part 1-1, Part 1-2, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7]
Some notes:
- The default name of Rei is used for the player character and was selected as male at the beginning of the game.
- I’m still on the fence on if I should be using honorifics or not. Your opinion on the matter would be greatly appreciated.
Click here to be taken to a pastebin with the translated dialogue or look under the read more to read it here.
Section 8 – “At the Edge”
(TL: Read as “kazuaru hazama-nite”)
Kazuma
This is...
Ciel
It’s very similar to the room we found hidden beneath Ishana.
Raabe
So... this is the “innermost part.”
Hazama
Oh? What’s with you guys all of a sudden? You’ve all got this shocked look on your faces. Have you guys been here before?
>We’ve been somewhere like this before.
Hazama
Really? Normally I’d ask to hear more about what sort of place that was but...
Hazama
We’re not exactly in the best place to be taking our time, wouldn’t you agree?
>Never seen it before in my life.
Hazama
Hey now, don’t just leave me in the dark like that.
Hazama
You’ll just make me even more curious if you keep it a secret, y’know.
Hazama
But... now isn’t really the best time to get into that, is it?
Fuzzy
Raabe’s right though. This is the innermost part you guys have been so keen on getting to.
Fuzzy
You brought those six keys here so you could activate the elements... and finally escape.
Raabe
What happens next then?
Fuzzy
You’ll just have to find out for yourself, right? You will, won’t you? Really though, even I don’t have any idea what’s supposed to happen next. Ahahaha.
Raabe
We don’t have much of a choice either way, it would seem.
Kazuma
As soon as we activate the elements, all of the mana we’ve collected will activate with them and accumulate around us.
Kazuma
Much more mana than we’re used to will gather together in one place.
Hazama
Will that be problematic for us?
Kazuma
There’s no reason why it should be. This is probably the perfect place for it actually...
Fuzzy
If you’re gonna go ahead and start it up, I’d let Kazuma do it. Since he’s a magician he should be used to working with mana and the elements already.
Ciel
Kazuma-san, would you be willing to activate the elements for us?
Kazuma
I, uh, yeah, I can do that. That shouldn’t be too difficult.
Kazuma
Let’s see here...
Hazama
You’ve looked like you’ve had something on your mind for a while now.
Hazama
I agree that Kazuma-san’s the best suited out of all of us to carry this out but... don’t push yourself if you don’t think you can handle it.
Hazama
If we really have to we can always looks for another way to activate them...
Kazuma
......
Kazuma
...No.
Kazuma
I can do it.
Raabe
Hey, hold on...
Hazama
Are you sure?
Kazuma
Yes. Please, allow me.
[a green magic circle appears, surrounded by the six elements]
Hazama
Oh my... I can already feel how the air around us has changed. Looks like you managed to pull it off without a hitch after all.
Ciel
Is this... activated mana? But this feeling, where have I...
Raabe
It can't be. This is...! Hey, Kazuma! Stop whatever it is that you’re doing!
Kazuma
......
Raabe
Are you even listening!? Earth to Kazuma!!
Kazuma
...Ah... it’s just like I thought. I was wondering... if that’s what it was...
>What’s wrong, Kazuma-san?
>Who are you talking to?
Kazuma
Who...
[a dark green shadow with veins and one glowing eye starts to materialize]
Hazama
Uuh, guh, ghh....
Ciel
Hazama-san? Is something wrong?
Hazama
Please be careful... Something’s... coming...!
[the shadow becomes fully visible]
Raabe
Wh... What’s going on?
Fuzzy
Hmm, I wonder what it could be～? What do you think?
Fuzzy
What about you, Rei? What do your “eyes” see? You can see it, can’t you?
Raabe
Don’t look. ...I guess that’s impossible, huh. Try not to focus as much as you can. This... isn’t a collection of mana.
Ciel
Raabe-san, Rei-san! We’ve got a problem.
Ciel
I’ve confirmed the appearance of the cauldron.
Ciel
But... there’s nothing around here that looks like it could be the cauldron. And if there’s a cauldron here, then who is the Observer...?
Raabe
They’re both right in front of us.
Ciel
Eh? Wh-What do you mean?
Raabe
The cauldron came into existence across this entire world the moment this guy appeared. In other words, that shadow... it’s the Observer.
Raabe
It’s also the cauldron. There’s no other explanation for this sort of reaction. This much condensed seithr... this is the cauldron.
Hazama
What’s that now? Seithr?
Hazama
You mean what Kazuma-san’s magic is activating right now isn’t...
Raabe
It’s not the elements or mana, no. It’s seithr!
???
Ahh～ god, you losers took fore～ver to show up.
Ciel
!?
???
Shit though, you guys sure have been through a lot, huh? But thanks to you I can talk as much as I want again.
>The shadow spoke!
???
Kyahahahaha, just a shadow, eh... Well, I guess that’ll have to do for now.
>Who are you?
???
What, you wanna know my name? You really wanna know who I am? Sure, I’ll humor you...
Kazuma
...Yuuki Terumi...
Spirit Terumi
Oops, looks like you beat me to it. But yeah, the kid’s right. Don’t go forgetting it, numbskulls.
Spirit Terumi
Yuuki Terumi. That’s the name, folks.
Hazama
You were lurking inside of me.
Hazama
Earlier when we were fighting Saya-san, she said she had sensed something within me... I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant at the time.
Hazama
I had no idea that it would turn out to be something like this.
Spirit Terumi
Hyahahahaha! Damn, I didn’t realize you were so out of the loop, Hazama-chan.
Ciel
So you’re familiar with Hazama-san as well.
Spirit Terumi
Oh yeah, best of buddies, thickest of thieves, call it what you like but we’re rea～l intimate. In fact, I know all you guys.
Spirit Terumi
You’re the morons who’ve been running all over the city doing my dirty work for me. Hyahahahahahaha!
Kazuma
So you were... using us? Does that mean that Fuzzy-san was also...?
Fuzzy
Can’t say I know about any of this. I’m only here to fulfill my role. Really I’m just a pawn here.
Fuzzy
You guys are all just pawns too. But even the pawns are necessary in the end, right? It’s not really a game if all the pieces aren’t in order, after all.
Spirit Terumi
The trap over here gets it. And now since you’ve been such good little slaves so far, how’s about you do me one last teensy-weensy favor...
Spirit Terumi
And die for me, will you? Hyahahahahaha!
Raabe
I see now. We’ve been playing right into his hands this entire time.
Raabe
When Kazuma started the activation sequence, he wasn’t channeling the mana or the elements. He wound up summoning this guy instead.
Ciel
No way... Then does that mean the whole story about escaping from the city was a lie?
Spirit Terumi
Come on, even if I’m not that cruel. I’ll still let you guys out.
Spirit Terumi
All aboard the Terumi express! Now serving a one-way trip straight into the Boundary! Just make sure to keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle, or you might lose them!
Hazama
Are you always this egotistical?
Hazama
Things may have gone your way up until now, but we’re not going to just stand here and let you do whatever you want.
Hazama
...It was wrong of me to bring you all this way when I sensed something was amiss, no matter how small it may have been.
Hazama
Looks like I got you all mixed up in something undesirable after all... I’m really sorry, Rei-san.
Hazama
But I don’t think I’ll be able to handle this one by myself. I’m afraid I must ask for your assistance one last time.
>Let’s all get out of here together.
Hazama
Thank you. I’m... truly glad to have met you.
>Let’s kick his ass and get the hell out of here!
Spirit Terumi
Ooh, someone’s a little touchy. That sort of enthusiasm is contagious, y’know.
Ciel
Assuming combat position. All eyes on target. Ready when you are!
Raabe
His form is still unstable. It’s hard to say if his existence has fully taken root yet or not.
Raabe
The reaction he’s giving off is definitely strong but... he might not be able to use the full extent of his power the way he is now.
Raabe
We need to strike before all of the seithr has finished gathering in one place. Let’s get this over with quickly.
Fuzzy
Go, go! You can do it!
Hazama
Are you ready for this, Kazuma-san?
Kazuma
Ah, uh... Right.
Spirit Terumi
Oh? You wouldn’t really team up against little ol’ me, would you? Heheheheh.
Hazama
Well then. Let’s go, Terumi-san.
Spirit Terumi
Guh, shit...! My power... no, none of this shit. None of it’s good enough!
Kazuma
......
Fuzzy
Whoa. You guys really creamed him.
Hazama
...I think that shadow inside of me... Terumi-san detached himself completely from me during the course of that fight.
Hazama
It’s the strangest feeling. It’s unsettling but also like a... weight’s been lifted, in a sense.
Spirit Terumi
Ha, haha... Hyahahaha...! Damn, that really could’ve gone better.
Spirit Terumi
I guess you win this one. I really lost to some lame spin-off side characters. Ain’t that right?
Kazuma
Yes. I... think that’s what happened.
Spirit Terumi
Heh, hahahaah! Yeah, them’s the breaks, huh. Tch, what a pain in the ass.
Spirit Terumi
Man, this sucks... you’re really blue-balling me here. Taking on a bunch of pussies like you should’ve been a joke.
Spirit Terumi
Sure screwed myself on that one.
Kazuma
...Please send us back.
Kazuma
As long as you do that... I don’t think we’ll have to hurt you anymore.
Spirit Terumi
Ha! Hurt me? You really think you can hurt me? Hyahaha, you don’t have a lot going on underneath that pretty face, do you, kid?
Spirit Terumi
Don’t make me laugh.
Ciel
Are you going to continue resisting?
Spirit Terumi
Oooh, close but no cigar! This isn’t what you’d call resistance...
Spirit Terumi
This is an escape!
[static]
Kazuma
...Ah. H-Huh?
Ciel
This is...
>It’s Ishana!
Kazuma
Yes, this is Ishana. It’s the same place we were before we found ourselves in that strange city...
>Are we back?
Ciel
...It would appear so. This is where we were standing before we were taken to that strange city.
Ciel
But what does this mean? It’s safe to say that we took out the Observer but we weren’t able to destroy the Cauldron...
Ciel
Regardless... we managed to escape the Phantom Field.
Raabe
I still need to look into everything further so this is just a hypothesis for now, but...
Raabe
I don’t think that city was an undiscovered Phantom Field.
Raabe
It’s foundation was built on Ishana who had already lost its Observer.
Raabe
Using the power of Observation, that shadow calling itself Terumi must have found its way in and overwrote things when it took over.
Kazuma
So it was... re-Observed?
Raabe
That’s exactly what it was.
Raabe
In other words, we weren’t so much moved somewhere else as it was our surroundings themselves were changing before our eyes... That’s probably what happened.
Hazama
Well, it was certainly an experience I could have lived without and I’m still not overly sure how any of it was possible but...
Hazama
Everything worked out in the end, right?
Hazama
We all made it out safe and sound. Let’s be thankful for that, shall we?
Hazama
Ahh～, truly all’s well that ends well.
Ciel
Hazama-san. And Fuzzy-san, too. The two of you came back to Ishana as well I see.
Fuzzy
Bzzt, wrong answer. Really, did you hear a thing Raabe just said? None of us actually came back anywhere.
Fuzzy
We were all just sort of displaced.
Ciel
Ah, so we were. So then would Fuzzy-san and Hazama-san be considered foreign entities in this situation?
Raabe
There’s no way to know for sure what the Phantom Field has classified them as but... that’s probably the case.
Raabe
Neither of them are involved with Ishana.
Hazama
Hmm～, while this place does look incredibly delightful, I’m afraid this isn’t where I belong.
Fuzzy
Me either. I’m not getting any good vibes from the ambience around here. I don’t think I’d fit in very well.
Raabe
...Once a Phantom Field has been liberated of its Observer, any foreign materials left behind should gradually start to return to where they were originally from.
Raabe
Here soon your existential information should be sent back to your own worlds.
Fuzzy
I guess we’re stuck hanging around here until that happens, huh～.
Fuzzy
Well, not like it matters. I’ve never been here before so there’s no harm in exploring a bit. Don’t you think?
[Fuzzy leaves]
Hazama
And there he goes. I suppose it’s best to just let him have his fun while he can.
Hazama
But more importantly... Rei-san, Ciel-san, Kazuma-san, Raabe-san.
Hazama
Thank you all so much for your help.
Hazama
When I was still wandering around all by myself, I was at a loss as to what I was supposed to do...
Hazama
But as soon as I joined up with you guys, everything just sort of naturally clicked into place.
Hazama
A lot happened back there, but I want you to know that from the bottom of my heart I’m grateful we were able to escape from that bizarre city.
Raabe
...Is that all you have to say? I can’t say I’m very convinced.
Raabe
It still feels like you’ve been manipulating us this entire time.
Hazama
Don’t be ridiculous! It must’ve been fate that I ran into you when I did. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.
Hazama
I’d even go so far as to say that you saved me.
Hazama
I’m honestly in your debt. If you ever need an extra hand for something, I’ll be sure to do everything in my power to help you out.
Hazama
Then again... I can’t guarantee that the me you’ll encounter then will be the same as I am now.
Hazama
Let’s do this the right way this time. My name is Hazama. It’s a pleasure to meet you.
Hazama
Rei-san.
>Pleased to meet you.
Hazama
Yes. I wish you all the best.
Ciel
......
Raabe
...We still need to head back and check the data to see if this was indeed the abnormality the System was detecting.
Raabe
We’ve overstayed our welcome. Let’s return to base.
Kazuma
...I guess this is goodbye then.
Kazuma
Hadn’t you said earlier that you couldn’t stay for long?
Ciel
That’s correct. We’re still only outsiders in this world.
Kazuma
......
Kazuma
...I’m really glad I was able to see you again. Getting to spend more time together... it was really fun.
Kazuma
I feel like I know myself a little better now.
Kazuma
Thank you so much.
Ciel
There’s no need to thank us. We were merely here for our mission.
Kazuma
You’re as blunt as always, Ciel-san...
Kazuma
...I think I have my own perplexing “mission” in front of me... nevermind. Hang in there for me, will you?
Kazuma
I’m rooting for you.
>Thank you.
>Good luck, Kazuma-san.
[static]
Kagami
Rei! Ciel! Thank god you guys made it back in one piece～!
Ciel
Oh. You startled me. What’s the matter, Kagami-san? You seem out of sorts.
Kagami
Well, what did you expect!? Almost as soon as you two got in you just fell off the grid!
Kagami
I wasn’t able to pinpoint where either of were for a long time...
Kagami
Your signals only reappeared inside Ishana’s Phantom Field a little while ago, y’know!
Kagami
So what happened? Nevermind, it’ll be faster to get the answers from Raabe’s internal data.
Kagami
Either way, I’ll get an investigation started. First you guys need to go get a medical check.
Kagami
And watch yourselves this time, got it!?
Ciel
Y-Yes, ma’am.
Kagami
I can’t let you out of my sight for even a second. Geez...
[Kagami leaves]
Ciel
It would seem we’ve caused quite the stir in our absence.
Ciel
Let’s head to the medical room. I’ll go with you, Rei-san.
Hazama
So this is supposed to be the famous Ishana, huh? Now that I’ve finally gotten a good look at it, it truly is nothing more than a ghost town.
Hazama
...Well then. I wonder where I should be heading next? With the help of those suckers, I was able to remove the chain that was inside me.
Hazama
I should be able to go just about anywhere now.
Hazama
At any rate, Terumi-san is right back where he should be. Although I can’t say I’m overly thrilled that he left me to do all the grunt work by myself.
Hazama
...I would have been in quite the bind if it weren’t for that boy, though. Heheh.
Hazama
But still, what a successful endeavor that turned out to be!
Hazama
For me, for Terumi-san... Even for him.
Hazama
“End Gazer”... The One Who Sees the End. I can’t wait to see how this will play out.
Kazuma
......
Kazuma
Ishana... All these years here, and I still haven’t learned a thing.
Kazuma
But... I feel like I finally know why I’m here... Just a little...
Kazuma
I feel like I’m home.
https://imgur.com/a/VfNvhRF
#blazblue#blazblue alternative dark war#bb:dw#translations#hazama#im so happy this is done with#im glad i saw it through to the end but GOD that was an adventure#this is definitely something I'll look back on in a few years and go#wow this is awful#but for now! i am satisfied
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Fear in Friendship (is an ugly trait)
Heehoo, this oneshot is short enough to crosspost on Tumblr instead of just linking to my AO3
Length: ~5k
Premise: Percy Jackson AU/Fusion
Characters: Roman, Remus, Janus
ships: N/A
Content Warnings: PJO-typical violence & injury, potential very very light ableism vibes (more info in the beginning notes on AO3)
Read on AO3
"Janice?" Roman asked, tilting his head at the new student Remus had brought to meet him. He was about to be late for after-school rehearsal, but Remus had come trotting up dragging the newcomer by the hand, and he'd looked so excited that Roman just couldn't bring himself to blow his brother off.
The new student glared. "Jan-US," he said, with an incredulous look at Remus, as if to say 'this idiot is your brother?' "Like the Roman god." He said it like it was obvious, like Roman was some kind of moron for not knowing. The sneering tone made Roman's blood run hot with anger and shame.
"I don't know all about that nerdy shit," Roman said, waving a hand dismissively.
Janus rolled his eyes. "Really? I would never have guessed; you seem so smart."
He was almost handsome, Roman thought, trying to study Janus' face without giving away that he was staring. He really might have been good-looking if it wasn't for the look of irritation that had been glued to his face ever since he'd entered Roman's field of vision.
A field of scarring spanned the left side of his face and traveled down his neck until the painful-looking swirl of pink and white disappeared under his high-collared shirt. The scarring itself was not necessarily unusual, just standard burn scars. What caught Roman's attention was how they just stopped, all in a straight, uniform line directly down the center of Janus' face. Almost like… Roman tried not to shudder as the thought came to him. Almost like someone had done it on purpose.
He swallowed hard and tried to get himself back on track. "Least I don't share a name with our librarian, Miss Janice."
"God, you're such a dick." Remus ran a hand through his unruly hair, shooting Roman a dark look. Roman stuck out his tongue. "Forget it." He took Janus by the wrist again and turned away. "Come on, let's go see if we can hack the vending machine."
"Oh, no you don't." Roman lunged forward, irritation coursing through him, and grabbed the top of Remus' backpack. "You're coming with me so I can keep an eye on you."
"No way!" Remus squirmed, but Roman kept his grip tight. "I don't wanna go to your stupid rehearsal."
To Roman's surprise, Janus chimed in with a keen and interested, "Rehearsal?"
"He thinks he's hot shit because he's playing Danny Zuko." Remus rolled his eyes, still trying to wiggle free of Roman's grip. "News flash, anyone can memorize lines and prance around in a leather jacket."
"So why don't you try out?" Roman asked rhetorically, starting to pull Remus down the hall.
Remus went along with it, though Roman knew full-well that he could have slipped out of his backpack and made a run for it at any time. "'Cause I'm too busy bangin'! Ba dum ch!"
As they made their way down the hall, Janus walked beside them in silence. Roman watched him out of the corner of his eye, frowning at the way he continually glanced over his shoulder like he was expecting to get in some sort of trouble. It was a look Roman was well familiar with. He had seen it on Remus and he had worn it himself far more times than he was comfortable with. Roman and his brother seemed to attract danger wherever they went, from stalkers to muggers to one stranger's memorable attempt at running them over in the crosswalk. It was never the same person twice, and each isolated incident could be chalked up to an accident. Roman didn't like to think about it for too long and worked hard to keep Remus from talking about it. After the first mugging, Remus had sworn for weeks that their assailant had had a tail. Roman had denied it out loud, but he couldn't lie to himself. Something wasn't right.
If Janus was equally as twitchy… Was he part of it? Did he know something?
"I understand the compulsion, since I am quite good-looking," Janus said, in a tone so dry it could have drained an Olympic swimming pool, "but you'd better quit staring at me before you walk into a door."
"I spaced out," Roman said, unable to think of a snappier retort. He couldn't help but shoot Janus suspicious looks out of the corner of his eye as they continued toward the Main building. "Where'd you transfer from, anyway? How old are you?"
Janus put his hands up like a cornered criminal. "You caught me," he said, affecting regret. "I'm a 43 year-old police officer trying to track down a drug ring. Promise me you won't tell?"
"Little does he know, I'm the distributor," Remus said, finally yanking free from Roman's hold. Roman let him go, knowing that if he had stayed this long, he probably wasn't going to run off.
Roman rolled his eyes. "Very funny, J Jonah Hill. But seriously."
"I'm 16," Janus said. "I transferred from a school in New York."
"All the way from New York? How'd you end up in Florida?" Roman yanked open the door to Main and held it for Remus and Janus. He was tempted to let it drop on Remus just to watch him stumble, but found himself distracted by a gold keychain on Janus' backpack. It was nothing special, just a shiny metal Gemini symbol, but the way it caught the light made Roman pause.
"Teleported," Janus said.
"Are you allergic to straight answers, or what?" Roman asked, unamused. Janus' mocking demeanor didn't sit well with him, and something about Janus' face didn't make sense. The scars seemed almost superficial, and didn't always move in conjunction with his mouth. Roman felt stupid just thinking it, but it was almost like they were masking something.
"What crawled up your ass?" Remus demanded. He turned to Janus. "Sorry, he's not usually such an asshole. He's probably just nervous about hitting all those high notes. I heard him practicing in the shower last night and it was like someone was skinning a cat."
"I sounded awesome," Roman said, blushing furiously. He paused before the theater doors, turning his back to them so he could directly address Remus. "Go find a seat. And I swear to God, if you cause any disruptions, I'll shave your drumsticks down into toothpicks."
"Not the Vic Firths!" Remus said, gasping in faux-horror. He dismissed Roman with a wave of his hand and motioned for Janus to follow him. "C'mon, let's go see if we can catch a cockroach."
Roman just shook his head and hurried backstage.
He had a hard time focusing during rehearsal, missing cues and tripping over himself on lines he had memorized days ago. But he was too distracted to even be bothered, subtly trying to keep an eye on Remus-- okay, on Janus from his vantage point on the stage.
Roman couldn't help it. He didn't trust Janus. The haunted look in his eyes, the way he was always looking over his shoulder… Something was off.
No matter how hard he tried, Roman couldn't force himself to focus. His thoughts kept whirling until they transformed into an overwhelming sense of dread that demanded all his attention. He barely even noticed when rehearsal ended, hurrying into the seating area to try to find Remus.
He wasn't there. Of course he wasn't there. Roman shouldered his backpack and strode off toward the bathrooms, trying hard not to panic. What if Janus was bad news? What if he had hurt Remus? What if Remus was lying bloody in a back corner somewhere because Roman wasn't there to protect him?
"Remus?" Roman called, checking both bathrooms. Nothing. "Shit." Where else did Remus like to go? Maybe the band room? Roman set off for it at a jog, his backpack bouncing against his back.
Nothing in the band room. Roman tried the handle anyway, just to confirm that it was locked.
"I'm going to kill him," Roman muttered, stalking off toward the football field. He swung by the vending machines on the way just in case, and came up empty. It had to be the football field, then. Remus had been talking about playing with the tackle dummies for weeks. That had to be it.
Roman forced himself to slow down as he approached the football field, not wanting Remus to know how badly he'd been freaking out. Of course Remus was there, doing cartwheels on the turf while Janus sat and watched.
"I told you not to leave!" Roman said, marching up to the pair of them.
"You didn't," Janus said, smirking. Roman glared at him. In the sun, his scars seemed to fade for a moment, revealing only the slightest hint of… green? Roman shook his head. It must have been the light reflecting off the turf. Janus continued, "You only said to find a seat and not cause any disruptions."
"I was gonna release a cockroach onto the stage and see if I could get it to go up your pants leg," Remus said, falling out of a cartwheel and landing on his back. "But Janus convinced me not to."
"You're welcome," Janus said.
Roman couldn't help but stare at him. His scars flickered in and out in the sunlight, the dark brown of his left eye flashing yellow. "Remus, get behind me," Roman said, deadly serious.
"What?" Remus lifted his head. "Why?"
Roman didn't answer, stepping between his brother and Janus. "What are you?" he demanded.
Janus' eyes widened before a look of realization crossed his face. "I'm a friend," he said in a silky, almost crooning tone. "You can trust me."
"He's a friend," Remus repeated. "Why are you being so weird?"
A sense of calm slid over Roman for half a second before he snapped out of it. "What are you?" he repeated, stepping forward into Janus' personal space. Now that he was looking for it, he could see it clear as day: Janus was half-snake. His entire left half was covered in dull green scales, and a slit pupil neatly bisected the sickly yellow of his left eye.
Janus put up his hands. "You're stronger than Remus," he said, almost to himself.
Roman grabbed him by the collar. "You have 30 seconds to explain what's going on."
"Look," Janus said. "You know you're not normal, right?"
"Bad start," Roman said, making a show of cocking his fist back. He'd never hit anyone in his life, save the occasional thrown elbow in wrestling matches with Remus. Should he go for the jaw? The eye?
"You have an absent parent, you get in trouble a lot, you've been in a lot of one-off dangerous situations that you can't really explain," Janus rattled off like he was reciting from a memorized list. "You're dyslexic, you make things happen like magic. Stop me when this sounds familiar."
"Some of those things, maybe," Roman said. Remus was dyslexic and they'd both had their fair share of dangerous run-ins. Distantly, he thought he heard the overlapping thumps of several car doors shutting. "What does that have to do with you?"
"You aren't human," Janus said.
"You aren't human," Roman shot back.
Janus rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Okay, look. You're the only one who can see my real face, right? Why do you think that is?"
"I don't know!" Roman said. Distracted, he let go of Janus' shirt. "What are you saying?"
"I'm trying to say that-- Okay, you know what? Let's just rip the blindfold off like a Band-Aid, sure!" Janus gave a hysterical-sounding laugh. "You're a demigod. You're both demigods."
Roman scoffed, unsure of exactly what else to say. A million questions raced through his mind, punctuated by that slamming car door sound again. What was that, anyway? He backed away from Janus and nearly stepped on Remus, who grabbed him by the ankle and bit. "You can stop harassing my friend now, you neurotic weirdo."
"Look at him!" Roman said. He bent down and hauled Remus to his feet, and was immediately distracted by a mechanical-sounding hissing and creaking. "I'm sorry, does anyone else hear a broken washing machine?"
"Whoa!" said Remus. "You're a snake!”
"I am not," Janus said.
Roman spun around, still searching for the source of the noise. It came into view a moment later and he froze for half a second, eyes widening. "Uhh, guys?" he said, backing up despite himself. He kept his gaze locked onto the massive copper bull that was striding directly at the fencing surrounding the football field, radiating heat that warped the air around it.
"What the heck is that?" Remus asked in obvious fascination.
"Listen," Janus said, his voice strangely calm. In the corner of his eye, Roman could just make out Janus as he removed his backpack and yanked the gold Gemini keychain off the zipper. "You need to get to my car. It's the blue Kia Soul parked by the main entrance."
In the distance, the bull backed up and smashed its way through the fence with a horrible clanging sound.
"Is that thing gonna try to kill us?" Remus asked.
The bull meandered closer, looking as nonchalant as a massive metal bull could. Roman fought the urge to back up, to grab Remus by the hand and get the hell out of dodge. "Why isn't it attacking?"
"It probably hasn't seen us yet," Janus said. He sounded as calm as ever, but Roman didn't miss the frantic rise and fall of his chest. "Walk off," he said. "Slowly."
"What about you?" Roman demanded.
Janus spun the keychain around his finger. The metal gleamed in the sun and lengthened into something Roman didn't recognize: a long metal pole with a half-moon blade at the end. "I'll hold it off."
"You can't seriously think--" Roman started, but the bull looked up and started to charge and the words died on his lip as raw panic choked out his rational thought
"Run!" Janus ordered. "Blue Kia Soul. Meet me there!"
Roman shrugged out of his backpack, grabbed Remus by the wrist and sprinted.
"Are you crazy?" Remus shouted. "We can't just leave him!"
"No shit!" Roman shouted back, still dragging Remus along. "We need weapons or something!"
"Hurdles," Remus said, veering off to the side.
Roman nearly tripped and was forced to let go of Remus’ hand. He wanted to argue, but there was very little of potential use on the field. The tackle dummies and tires left out by the football team were far too heavy for them to move. The track hurdles were the only things even remotely useful. Remus grabbed one and started hauling it back toward the fray, and Roman was quick to follow suit. He didn't want Remus going in first if he could help it.
The hurdle was unwieldy and made his hands ache, but he barely noticed, too wrapped in not tripping while he watched Janus in a state of adrenaline-riddled horror.
By some miracle, Janus wasn't dead. In fact, to Roman's puzzlement, he sort of looked like he knew what he was doing. More or less. He held his weapon with confidence and kept his center of gravity low. The bull seemed to have no other strategy than to aim itself at a target and charge, allowing Janus to dodge every time. Unfortunately, it seemed he could only dodge, as the long handle of his weapon, whatever it was, didn't allow for quick maneuvers.
They were locked in a stalemate, and it was pretty much a guarantee that Janus was going to tire out. He was already breathing heavily, keeping his moments sparing and conservative.
Then Remus came flying in and Roman could only watch as his brother flung the track hurdle with wild abandon. "Die!"
"I told you to run!" Janus shouted, barely audible over the clanging of the bull kicking furiously to try to dislodge its back legs from the hurdle
"We'll run after we finish saving your ass," Roman said. The bull's head swiveled between the two of them, as Remus was still behind it, and Roman swore he saw a spark of intelligence in its molten-metal eyes. Without any sort of warning, it kicked Remus in the chest and took off at a dead sprint for Janus again.
For a split second, Roman was paralyzed. Remus hit the ground hard and rolled and lay still; Janus stood frozen with guilt written all over his face.
"Move!" Roman shouted, already formulating a plan. If he could get the hurdle underfoot while the bull was charging, it might trip, allowing Janus enough time to… stab it or slash it or whatever his weapon was supposed to be good for.
Janas sidestepped again and dashed forward. He glared at Roman, too winded to speak.
"I need you to draw its attention again," Roman said, glancing at the bull. It left deep gouges in the artificial grass where it stopped, and the rubber smoked from the sheer heat it put out. It turned and pawed the ground. "And I swear to God, if you let it get to Remus again, I will end you."
"Like it was my fault," Janus panted, already in motion. He backed up, careful to step away from Remus. Lacking any spare fabric to wave, he threw his free arm out and shouted, "It's me that you want."
He used the same silken, commanding tone he'd tried on Roman earlier. Roman made a mental note to ask him about that when they weren't in the middle of a death match.
The bull charged. Roman threw the hurdle. Then everything went to Hell.
The bull did trip as Roman had intended, but it had so much momentum that it kept thundering toward Janus as it stumbled and scrabbled for balance on the melting rubber chips. A wayward hoof caught Janus in the ankle and knocked him flat, practically right underneath its massive chest. He gave a shout and dropped his weapon, and Roman realized with a feeling of sinking dread that it must have been too hot to touch.
Well, there went that.
He needed a new plan and he needed it now. Already the bull was finding its footing and turning its fiery glare on Roman.
Roman charged it, feeling more like Remus' brother than he had ever had before. "Die!" He rolled forward and grabbed Janus' weapon, barely noticing the heat that seared into his palms-- He didn't have time for pain or panic. Spotting a crack in the metal plating on the bull's back, Roman aimed the blade and shoved. The bull shuddered and Janus shouted something, but Roman had no room for thoughts more complex than kill, protect, kill, protect. He shoved and shoved until the bull gave a final hiss and went still, until sweat poured into his eyes and he could no longer keep them open, until the metal shaft of Janus' weapon snapped under his hand.
"Remus!" Janus shouted.
That got Roman's attention. He left Janus half-pinned under the steaming body of the bull and dashed for Remus' prone form.
He was already starting to sit up and self-assess, touching the back of his head and studying his bloodied fingers with an unsettling blank expression.
"Are you okay?" Roman asked.
Remus blinked hard, stared at him. "Is it dead?"
"Yeah, it's dead."
"Where's Janus?"
Roman frowned and looked behind him. Janus had extracted himself from the wreckage of the bull and was kneeling and wiping the sweat off his face. "Remus is asking for you," Roman said, trying not to let his bitterness show in his voice.
"You broke my scythe," Janus said, not moving.
"You could thank me for saving your life," Roman shot back, half-forgetting Remus.
"That was my best weapon! Now all I have is this stupid knife."
"Are you coming over or not?"
"I can't." Janus glared at Roman. "Somebody dropped a two-ton Colchis bull on me and shattered my ankle in the process."
"But did you die?"
"Can you stop yelling?" Remus murmured, burying his face in his hands.
Roman stared at him, heart hammering with renewed fear. "Are you okay?"
"I just want to go home."
"You can't," Janus said. Roman glared at him, but he continued without acknowledging it, "It's not safe. The monsters know about you now. You have to come with me."
"And why the Hell would we do that?" Roman demanded. "You almost got us killed!"
Remus peeked over the tops of his fingers. "I don't think it was his fault, Roman."
"Thanks for the backup, bro." Roman rolled his eyes and turned to address Janus again. "Why should we trust you?"
The look Janus gave him could have burned a hole in titanium. "Hm, let's see. Who has all the answers? Who just tried to save your ungrateful ass? Think hard now, Roman, don't be afraid to phone a friend."
"I get it, I get it." Roman got to his feet, surprised at how stiff and sore he already felt. He extended a hand to Remus only to yelp in sudden agony when Remus tried to grab on. He turned his hands over and found both palms bright red and shiny with small blisters on the centers. He offered Renus his forearm instead, and steadied him as he swayed. "You okay?"
"Super," Remus wheezed. "Fucking peachy. I got kicked right in the tit by a steampunk rodeo bull and busted my head open on the single rock in this entire field of soft-ass rubber chips. Can't wait to tell Mom."
"Shit!" Roman said. "Mom!" Realization hit a moment later-- she was out of town for a few days at some big-shot surfing exposition, no kids allowed.
"She's in for a nasty surprise."
"Very nasty," Janus said, "unless your godly parent warned her ahead of time. Is anyone going to help me up?" Roman forced himself to compartmentalize. One thing at a time. Remus seemed steady enough on his feet, so Roman stepped over to help Janus up. He couldn't seem to put any weight on his right ankle and clamped onto Roman's shoulder when he tried to step away. "You have two options," Janus said, "help me walk, or grab my keys and bring the car around-- Oh." He looked away, horror dawning in his face, and Roman followed his gaze to see what he was staring at.
"Let me guess," he said, examining the still-smoking remains of Janus' backpack. "They keys were in there?"
"The keys, my wallet, miscellaneous demigod survival crap. You know, nothing too important."
"I'll go see what I can find." Roman let Janus drop, privately amused by the undignified cry he gave out upon hitting the ground.
Janus' black Nike backpack had melted and fused with the rubber chips on the turf. Roman poked the mess with the tip of his toe and found it cool enough to touch for short periods, so he knelt and did his best to sort through what was left.
The Kia keys had miraculously survived, although the remote was unusable and the lanyard was nothing more than a pile of ash and melted orange polyester fibers. It sent flames of agony all across his palms, but Roman managed to extricate the car key and a few strange golden coins. He ignored the remains of a few Ziploc bags, but examined the orange Hydroflask with a critical eye. It had a hole in it, but whatever it had once held had a peculiar smell that cut through the stench of burning rubber and made Roman feel strangely at ease. It smelled like fresh-squeezed orange juice, and he could have sworn he caught a hint of guava and vanilla, like the nonalcoholic punch his mom made for the kids when she was hosting parties.
"Take your time," Janus called, pulling Roman back to reality.
Roman flipped him off, and it hurt like his hand was on fire, but it was worth it. Now that the adrenaline was well and truly gone, he just felt sick and wrung-out, and not at all in the mood to deal with Janus' ill temper.
"Got the keys," Roman said, turning around. "And these weird arcade tokens."
"Those are drachma."
"That's funny," Remus said, in a voice that was still much too quiet and calm for Roman's liking, "I thought they were ligma."
"Oh my God," Roman muttered.
"What?" said Janus, eyeing Remus with concern.
"Ligma nuts!" Remus said.
After a long silence, that Roman supposed was meant to restore some sense of dignity, Janus said, "Good to know you're not dying."
"So are we leaving or what?" Roman asked, jangling the keys.
Janus nodded, and gestured for Roman to help him up.
Roman was sure they looked ridiculous as they hobbled across the football field. Roman, who was the least injured, had to support half of Janus' weight as he limped along, and Remus kept getting lightheaded and grabbing Roman's other shoulder for balance. At least Remus was able to carry his and Roman's backpacks, though it slowed him down considerably.
Roman was winded when they finally reached the parking lot, his shoulders and obliques screaming in protest at the awkward position he'd held for so long.
"Can you drive?" Janus asked when they'd reached the Kia and he could finally let go of Roman.
"Uh, I have my learner's permit."
Janus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Let me rephrase that: You're going to have to drive."
"Where to?"
"New York."
"New York?" Roman repeated. "Are you crazy? Why New York?"
"I'll explain on the way," Janus said, "but we really need to get out of here."
"Fine." Roman helped Janus into the passenger seat and then lifted Remus into the back so he could sprawl across the seats. His head had stopped bleeding on its own, but since they hadn't paused to apply any pressure, blood had dripped down his neck and dried on the collar of his shirt. "I don't suppose you have any first aid stuff?"
Janus yanked open the glove compartment and rattled off the contents. "Manual, registration, Taco Bell napkins, tire pressure gauge, plastic baggie full of mystery pills, novelty Medusa PEZ dispenser, Mapquest directions to the Lotus Hotel, titanium spork."
"Those are Aleve," Remus said, poking his head between the seats. "Can I have about 20?"
"You can have two," Roman said, snatching the bag of Janus' hands. His own fingers were stiff and clumsy and flared up with pain every time he tried to use them, but he couldn't deny the increasing compulsion to be in charge. He had to fix it for Remus, he had to make it better, he had to keep them safe--
"Like, now, or…?" Remus said.
"Sorry." Roman distributed the pills, then passed around his water bottle. "Okay," he said, struggling with the cap while Janus watched with a cool eye. "So, uh. Now I just have to drive to New York. With messed up hands."
"It helps if you get in the car," Janus drawled.
Roman said nothing, but as he walked around to the driver's side, he made a silent vow to hit as many potholes as he could.
"Road trip!" Remus crowed once Roman was seated. "Hey, Roman, how much money do you have?"
"I dunno," Roman said, trying to focus on backing out while only holding the wheel with his fingertips. "Like 20 bucks. You're the one with the backpacks, why don't you count?"
"I get to go through your stuff?" Remus asked, clapping his hands in delight.
"Just don't steal my good pens or I'll kill you." Roman put the car in drive and lurched forward.
"Accelerate with your toes," Janus said.
"No backseat driving."
"I'm not in the backseat."
"Keep running your mouth and I'll strap you to the roof." Roman turned up the radio before Janus could reply. He'd had enough; his hands hurt, his body ached, he was terrified. He couldn't deal with any more snark and attitude.
He took the on-ramp for I-75 North and started to sing, first to himself and then louder as traffic increased and he got nervous. In the corner of his eye, he could see Janus double-checking all their blind spots, peering in the rear view mirror, fidgeting with his seat belt.
It didn't help Roman's nerves any. He kept singing with the radio, privately grateful that it was already set to a pop station. He noticed two things at once as he switched lanes to let a bright red Maserati blow past him: First, a bone-deep exhaustion that left him so dizzy he nearly swerved onto the shoulder. Second, his hands no longer hurt.
He took one off the wheel and glanced at it, shocked to find the skin as smooth as if it had never been damaged at all.
"Did you do that?" Roman demanded, sparing a glance at Janus.
"What, make you hit the rumble strip? No, that was all you."
"My hands," Roman said impatiently. "They're better. Look!" He showed his palm to Janus, then to Remus.
"Lucky," Remus said. "I feel like somebody pushed me off a 69-story building."
"Nice," said Roman, unable to help himself.
Janus just rolled his eyes and turned back to face the road.
"So how about those answers now?" Roman asked, stifling a yawn behind his hand.
Janus nodded. "But no interrupting. If you don't believe me after everything you've seen, that's on you for being an idiot."
"Who said I was going to interrupt?" Roman said.
Janus looked at him out of the corners of his eyes. "Oh, I just have a feeling."
"We can be quiet," Roman said. He turned the radio off and sat back as much as he could without losing his grip on the wheel.
"Super quiet," Remus agreed. "Silent but deadly."
"Alright," said Janus. "The Greek gods are real. You're the children of one of them."
Roman pressed his lips together, determined not to make a sound. He kept silent as they continued to crawl down I-75 in rush hour traffic and Janus elaborated about gods and monsters and mythology.
It wasn't until the sun was well and truly down, until Janus had gone silent, until it was too late for it to matter, that Roman even realized he had been the victim of reverse psychology.
He scowled and doubled down on his vow to hit as many potholes as possible. Whether Janus was telling the truth or not, Roman didn't like him.
#as i said: the devil works hard but hyperfixating adhders work harder#sanders sides fic#sanders sides fanfiction#sanders sides#tumblr fucked up my tags so sorry if there's an irrelevant tag on here lmao#spicypost#spicywrites
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A Gentleman Asks, Rather Than Does - Chapter One
Time to actually officially crosspost this here since someone’s been poking around my AO3 and I had to change my password. Limiting myself to one a day as to not spam.
Summary: The Warrior of Light calls Hildibrand out on his bluff regarding his knowledge of ‘the fairer sex’ and teaches him a thing or two about courting a lady. So begins the dramatic courtship of Hildibrand and the Warrior of Light. Fluff abound, idiocy guaranteed. Hildibrand/Female, non-Lala WoL. Sorry Lala lovers, I couldn’t figure out the height difference.
Fic as a whole is rated E for spice. True spice begins chapter 9.
CW for plot points in later chapters including stalking and implied/referenced assault.
Chapter One: WoL acts on a whim. Mild spice. Rated M.
In hindsight, you should have realized things were going far too smoothly to be true to form. Not once during the course of any of your investigations with this motley crew had everything fallen into place like this. Something was bound to happen; the other shoe had to drop.
And so it did.
It dropped in the form of sudden inclement weather. Upon attempting to charter a way to the Western Highlands, you and your party were informed that all travel to and from Ishgard was suspended for the day or so due to an incoming blizzard, effective about five minutes before you arrived at the gate.
So much for simple.
Defeated for now, you slunk your way back to the gazebo. It was time to plan, and Idyllshire would have to wait.
“WhAt Do We Do NoW, pApA hIlDy?” Gigi asked, large inquisitive eyes turning to his ‘father’.
Hildibrand twisted his hips and pressed his fingers to his temples before seemingly coming up with a brilliant idea. “Ah! Is it not obvious? We merely wait out the storm here and continue on with our brilliant plans when the skies clear!”
Well, yes. That much was obvious. But wait-
“You… you aren’t seriously planning to sit out a blizzard out here, are you?” you asked, glancing around for any other voices of reason. Cyr and Julyan were nowhere to be seen; perhaps they’d made it out of the city before the lockdown.
Hildibrand raised a practically non-existent eyebrow in response. “Whyever not? This is a perfectly fine gazebo!”
“The inspector and I have been through way worse, back before Dalamud!” Nashu added from her perch on the bench. It seemed she’d already made herself comfortable.
“You’ll freeze!”
Gigi tilted his little head to the side as he looked up at you. “Is ThAt TrUe, AuNtIe? WiLl wE fReEzE oUt HeRe?”
That threw you for a loop. “W-well, maybe not you, Gigi...” Could mammets freeze? Logic said yes, but little Gigi had spent all that time buried in the snow and was perfectly fine after a little maintenance…
“It takes more than a little cold to knock a Manderville man down!” Hildibrand exclaimed, flexing.
“Besides, we have the kettle!”
You blinked incredulously. Surely, you should be used to the deficit of rational thought by now, and yet-
“The kettle won’t keep you safe from the wind!” You retorted. Before you could open your mouth to argue further, you heard footsteps coming towards the gazebo.
“Is everything alright out here? I am hearing quite the commotion.”
All four of you turned almost in unison to see Lord Edmont approaching. He wore an amused expression rather than an irritated one.
You bowed slightly. “Lord Edmont. Pray forgive the noise. We were simply debating on what to do next.”
“Ah, yes. Have you heard the city is on lockdown due to an incoming blizzard? I just received word from one of my knights. You should really come inside before you catch cold.”
“I’m trying to explain to these three why sleeping outside in the gazebo through a blizzard is a bad idea.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, gesturing towards your friends.
Edmont was, very understandably, taken aback by the idea. He turned his gaze upon Hildibrand and friends. “Have you three been sleeping out here this entire time?!”
Three simultaneous nods, slightly bashful.
“Why!?”
Hildibrand raised a finger, taking a moment to think. “Er, you see… the funds of a traveling inspector are sometimes…” He seemed reluctant to admit it.
“We’Re RoUgHiNg It LiKe TrUe InSpEcToRs Do!”
Edmont shook his head. “While your sense of adventure is… admirable, I simply cannot very well allow you three to stay outside in this horrid weather. Why, the storm is already starting!” As if to punctuate his point, a gust of wind that chilled even you whipped through the Pillars.
“I would hate to impose…” Hildibrand looked conflicted between his pride and his likely desire to stop being out in the cold, if his shivering was any indication. Every second that passed made it look like the latter was going to win out in the end.
“Nonsense! I insist. It would be poor manners to merely leave an esteemed member of House Manderville and his companions out in the cold.”
Gigi tugged at his hat, shaking his head. “We ArEn’T sTaYiNg In ThE gAzEbO?”
Uh oh. You had to act fast. “Uh, we’re going to go stay in the big gazebo, Gigi! They’ve got more than just a kettle. They’ve got a whole fireplace!”
“A rEaL oNe?”
You nodded. “A real one, with real fire!”
“YaY! bIg GaZeBo!” Gigi jumped for joy.
Edmont couldn’t help but chuckle at Gigi’s enthusiasm. “Yes, a real fire. Though do take care to keep your distance from it, young man.”
“OkAy! ThAnK yOu, UnClE eDmOnT!” Forgetting about the true gazebo for now, Gigi puttered off in the direction of Fortemps Manor.
“Gigi! Hold on a moment, my son!” Hildibrand called, dashing after him.
Nashu hopped up from her seat and ran after Hildibrand. “Wait for me, Inspector!”
You shook your head affectionately as you watched them go.
“What a lively bunch they are,” Edmont commented with a smile. “However did you come to know them?”
“It’s a long, long story. Perhaps Lord Godbert could tell you sometime. But I can assure you that while they may be somewhat… eccentric, they are perhaps some of the kindest souls Eorzea has ever known.”
Edmont nodded. “Then that is more than enough for me. I trust your judgment.” He patted your shoulder affectionately. “Are you staying for dinner?”
You grinned. “You know it.”
~
After a lively dinner in which miraculously no one was maimed, injured, or heavily insulted, it was time to settle in for the night. All of the guests were given a room… only for Nashu to fall asleep in front of the fireplace with Gigi, who had entered a ‘sleep mode’ of sorts.
Outside, the snow was falling and the wind was howling. It was likely for the best that your entourage had been invited inside, because from what you could see from the window, the gazebo outside was already half-covered with snow and the kettle long snuffed out by the winds.
You retired to your room as you usually did, and settled in for a night’s rest… only to find yourself completely unable to sleep. This happened from time to time; occasionally thoughts kept you up at night, thoughts of the past, the present, the future…
After what you estimated to be about three or so bells of trying, you gave up and decided to see about tea. The halls of the manor were dark, and it was doubtless that everyone was asleep.
Everyone, that was, except Hildibrand.
The man in question was sitting on a couch in the foyer, hunched over parchment and muttering to himself. There was a low fire crackling, which gave the room a dim glow. In the firelight, you could see that Nashu was still fast asleep on the floor, curled around Gigi like a mother coeurl. Someone (probably Edmont or one of the stewards) had draped a blanket over them and put a pillow under Nashu’s head.
“Hildy?” you called softly.
He startled a bit, dropping the quill in his hand. “Oh, it’s just you,” he said, relaxing.
You gave him a tired smile. “Can’t sleep,” you replied, moving to look over his shoulder. “What’s all this?”
“Plans!” he exclaimed, though he thankfully had the sense to lower his voice when Nashu, still curled up by the fire, shifted. She muttered something about chickens as her ears twitched, but otherwise remained fast asleep. Sometimes you envied her ability to sleep anywhere.
“For when we get to Idyllshire?” You leaned over the back of the couch, resting your head on your folded arms as you attempted to make heads or tails of Hildibrand’s elegant scrawl.
He grinned. “Precisely! As sharp as ever, my friend.”
You chuckled. “What have we got planned?”
“Well…” He pointed to a crudely drawn diagram. “I propose that using mainly spoons, we tunnel under where the Grand Sers have made their base and catch them unawares!”
A moment of silence passed between you two, then another.
“Spoons.”
Hildibrand made a face. “This is a work in progress, of course.” He pushed his papers aside. “What do you think?”
“Hmm… well, we should start by questioning the residents when we arri-“
“Ah, I just had the most brilliant idea. When we arrive, we should split up and ask around!”
You snorted in laughter, shaking your head. “Never change, Hildy,” you said, standing up and starting towards the kitchens. “I’m making tea, do you want any?”
“That would be very kind of you!”
You gave him a thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchens to start the kettle.
A few moments later you came strolling back into the foyer with a tray. Upon the tray sat a teapot and two cups and saucers. “I hope you like black tea.”
“Thank you, it-“ For the first time since you’d come into the foyer, Hildibrand looked directly at you… and then promptly looked away, mouth slightly agape.
Huh? What was- oh. You looked down at yourself, remembering you were wearing a nightgown that, while very comfortable, left little to the imagination.
So Hildibrand was shy, hmm? You nearly giggled at the thought. As you poured the cups of tea, you took a moment to look at him as well. Given the late hour, it seemed he’d shed his coat and gloves, setting them neatly beside him. His bow tie hung to one side of his neck and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone. The fire from the hearth gave off a warm glow to the room, reflecting off his eyes in a way that almost made them twinkle.
Your stomach flipped a little. How had you not truly paid attention before to how handsome a man Hildibrand was?
Well, objectively you knew this as it was an undisputed fact. But here and now, with the firelight dancing off the walls and highlighting his strong jawline and muscled form? Now, it was hard to deny on a personal level.
Deciding to test the waters and see where this went, you sat down right next to him after placing his teacup on the table in front of him. “Everything alright, Hildy?”
He nodded stiffly, still not looking at you. “I am completely fine!”
You drew your legs up next to you. “Are you sure? You seem flustered.”
“I assure you, nothing is wrong. But you… are you not cold?”
“Me? I’m not cold at all. Especially not next to you, I’m not.” You patted his arm for emphasis.
Hildibrand cleared his throat. “I-I see…” You could see a hint of a blush on his cheeks… adorable.
“Why would you think I’m cold?” You wanted to hear him say it.
“Well, you see… what you’re wearing… may not be the best choice for cold weather!”
You giggled. “Hildy, are you embarrassed?”
“No! It is simply uncouth for a gentleman to gaze upon a lady in such a state of undress!”
Adorable and polite. Your heart did a few more flips in your chest. Oh, you wanted to gobble him up.
“Even if the lady didn’t mind?”
The thought hadn’t seemed to have occurred to Hildibrand before right now. He turned a little bit back towards you, still not looking at you.
“Honestly, I don’t mind. I wouldn’t have worn it outside my room if I did. And I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not a creep.”
He turned back to face the table at the very least, picking up his teacup and taking a sip. You could practically hear the cogs turning in his head.
You lowered your voice to an attempt at a seductive purr. “And what would you say if I told you I wanted you to look at me, hmm?” you teased.
He raised a finger as if to make a point, but also seemed to be at a loss for words. “Far be it from me to deny a lady such a simple request,” he finally said. And so he turned his gaze upon you.
You felt your heart pounding as his eyes swept your form, wide with reverence. Sometime during the evening, he’d forgone his monocle, leaving his face clearly visible. Oh, and what a nice face it was. Now that you were thinking about him like this, you were really, really thinking about it. Hildibrand may not have been the brightest person out there, but he was kind, sincere, handsome… oh no.
Suddenly you felt a little self-conscious. You swallowed, tongue darting out to wet your suddenly dry lips. “H-Hildy?”
“The most prolific of poets could not do you justice, my lady. You are utterly radiant.”
Holy shit. Where had that come from? Your eyes widened in turn, and you could feel your face heating up. “You truly think so?”
“Of course. I always have. I have eyes, my good woman!”
“You’ve never said anything.”
Hildibrand nodded sagely. “It is hardly gentlemanly to make unsolicited compliments on a lady’s appearance. My mother taught me that from a young age.”
(And calling them old was just fine, apparently.)
Suddenly a lot of things about Hildibrand made more sense. You almost shuddered remembering how effortlessly Julyan had taken out not one but three people during the course of the investigation in Ul’dah.
You chuckled softly. “You did say you were well versed in the ways of the fairer sex.”
Hildibrand looked away for a moment. “About that…”
“Hm?”
He cleared his throat nervously. “‘Tis true I am highly experienced in the art of treating ladies with the utmost respect! However, when it comes to courting one…”
You saw what he was getting at. “You haven’t had the chance.”
He nodded, seemingly grateful that he didn’t have to admit it himself.
“Well, I’m open to the idea.” You placed a hand on top of his.
Hildibrand’s jaw dropped. “A-are you?”
“Whyever not?” you said, parroting his words from earlier in the day. “You’re sweet, earnest, and devilishly handsome. I’d say you’re quite the catch.” You winked, causing Hildibrand’s face to erupt in a blush which in turn caused you to giggle. “You look like you’re surprised. What about your ‘swaths of adoring fans’?” you teased.
“I would never dream of taking advantage of someone’s admiration!” He looked scandalized by the very idea. Gods, how was this man real? He had an ego and a half for sure, but somehow also managed to still be utterly sweet and sincere in his words and actions.
You leaned in closer to him. This close, you could practically count his eyelashes. “If I’m offering, it’s hardly taking advantage, now is it? In fact…” You shifted so that your lips were right by his ear. “I could even teach you a thing or two about how to please a lady.”
Hildibrand stiffened, and you could have sworn the man shivered (and not from the cold). “I suppose not, no. I have a question for you, though.”
“Yes?”
“Are you propositioning me?”
If you hadn’t been supported by the couch, you’d have fallen over from the sheer shock of such an obvious question.
(Was anything ever really obvious to Hildibrand, though?)
“I have been this entire time, yes.” You laughed. “Thank you for noticing.”
Hildibrand huffed a laugh in response. “Well! I must say this is unprecedented!”
You pulled back a little to give him breathing room. “You can say no. I won’t be mad, honest. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“Pray do not mistake my reaction for reluctance! I am merely… pondering my next steps. I would be a fool to refuse a beautiful woman such as yourself!”
You crept your fingers up his arm. “If you don’t know what to do… I could show you?”
He swallowed audibly. “I would be most honored, my lady.”
Grinning, you stood and offered him a hand up. “Not here,” you said, glancing over to the fireplace where Nashu and Gigi were still fast asleep. “Let’s go to my room.”
Hildibrand nodded dumbly and took your hand. You led him down the hall to your room, hips moving in an exaggerated sway the whole time. If you were relaxed about this, hopefully he would be too.
You flitted about your room, setting up candles for mood lighting while Hildibrand took a seat quite politely on your bed. He looked very much like a deer in the caravan lights, and the sight made your heart melt just a little.
Hildibrand looked up at you in awe as you approached, radiating confidence that matched his on an average day.
“Before we start, I want you to know: you can tell me to stop at any time. I don’t want to do something you don’t want to do, Hildy.” You smiled softly at him.
“Er, likewise! I will not force a lady into an uncomfortable situation!”
You chuckled. “There’s not a lot I haven’t done. Hope that doesn’t bother you.”
He shook his head. “A gentleman does not judge one on their history, merely on their present actions. Not to mention that there is no shame to be had in such a thing!”
“You’re sweet.” You took a seat next to him on the bed. “What would you like to do first?”
He froze a moment; apparently he hadn’t expected you to ask him what he wanted. Eyes widened and lips parted slightly, he held up a finger as if to ask for a moment, which you gladly gave him.
“May I… kiss you?” he finally asked, blinking a few times as if to confirm the sight in front of him was indeed real.
You grinned. “You certainly may,” you said, leaning forward and placing a hand on the side of his face as you gazed at him affectionately with eyes half-lidded. You moved closer, but left him space to close the distance or back away, whichever he wanted.
He chose the former, pressing his lips to yours cautiously. You gladly accepted, kissing back softly as to not overwhelm him. It was… it was clumsy to start with, to say the least. His lips were puckered far too much, and it was like kissing a fish.
Pulling back a little, you tilted your head at him. “How was that? Was that nice?” He nodded. “Here, try it like this.” You pursed your lips just as you had before, waiting for him to do the same.
This time was much smoother, he was a lot less stiff. The hand not holding his face came up to tousle through his hair, completely pulling it out of place. You slid your other hand down and around him, pulling him closer to you, and he grunted softly into the kiss in response. Glancing down briefly told you he had no idea what to do with his hands.
The kiss ended much slower this time. As you both pulled back, his eyes fluttered open to look at you, pupils blown wide. The sight almost made you squirm. Kissing him on the cheek, you reached down and tugged on his hands gently. He let you guide them to your waist.
“Is this alright?” you asked. Wordless, he nodded. His hands were large on your waist, and you could feel the heat radiating from them through the thin material of your nightgown. “You’re doing excellent, Hildy.” He shivered at the praise, and you took note of this.
You brought your legs up underneath you as you turned to face him fully, still sitting on the edge of the bed. Both of your hands came up to either side of his face as you kissed him again. This time he seemed to get it, pressing back with intensity equal to your own.
Moaning softly into the kiss, you moved to deepen it. He responded enthusiastically, daring to put one hand up to the side of your face. You broke the liplock momentarily to press a nuzzling kiss into his palm before returning to your target. His goatee scratched ever so slightly against your face, and you giggled at the sensation. With one hand, you silently nudged him to face you as well.
He pulled you closer to him and you happily followed, coming forward and swinging your leg over so your legs were on either side of his firm thighs. Oh, they were as solid as they looked. His grip on you tightened slightly and you responded by grinding down on him. A very solid proof of interest greeted you as well as a throaty moan from him, which you returned with one of your own.
Eager to go already? My, my, this man was full of surprises, you thought.
Your hands eagerly moved down to the buttons on his shirt, fingers fumbling with the fabric. He froze, one hand coming up to stop yours. You stopped immediately, scooting back to give him some room.
“Ah, give me a moment…” he said, breathing heavily.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable.”
Hildibrand looked conflicted. “But you want-“
You shook your head. “Doesn’t matter what I want.” You took his hands in yours and held them. “We go at your pace. It wouldn’t be very ladylike of me to force a gentleman to do something, now would it?” You winked at him.
“It wouldn’t be something I don’t want,” he said, scrunching his face up in thought. “Apologies for my forwardness, but this is something I am very much interested in! Rather…”
“Too fast?” You tilted your head at him, squeezing his hands reassuringly.
He chuckled. “Once again, your powers of deduction are capital!”
“I did learn from the best,” you said, leaning forward and kissing him on the forehead. “That’s you, in case you didn’t realize.”
“Oh.”
You giggled. “You want to just stay like this? We could sleep.” A moment of silence passed. “Just sleep.”
“Ah, what if your friends were to find us?”
“They know what I’m like.” You shrugged. “And I won’t tell if you don’t.”
He shook his head rapidly. “A gentleman does not kiss and tell!”
You grinned, moving to lay down on your bed and patting the area next to you. Cautiously, Hildibrand moved to lay down next to you. You rested your head against his shoulder. “Is this okay?”
Hildibrand was silent a moment before nodding. “This is… nice.” He moved to wrap his arms around you before stopping halfway through. “Er, may I?”
“Please,” you said, giving him a sleepy smile. Despite the fact that your heart was still racing (and so was his, you could feel), you felt comfortably tired now.
He pulled you into his strong arms and settled you down so that your head rested against his chest. You noticed he very pointedly angled his pelvis slightly away from you, and you didn’t press the matter. Instead, you snuggled into his arms and breathed him in. Somewhere along the way, he’d lost the scent of rotting flesh and picked up saltpeter and mammet oil. It was familiar, comforting.
You sighed softly, content. Here in his arms, you felt… safe, secure. Logically you knew that if something were to happen it would be you protecting him instead of the other way around, but it felt nice to be held.
Goodnight, Hildy,” you whispered.
“Sleep well,” he whispered back, and you felt the light pressure of his lips against the crown of your head.
It was there that you drifted off, safe and sound in the arms of your inspector
***
(consent is sexy, y’all)
#ffxiv#ff14#final fantasy xiv#hildibrand#hildibrand manderville#lord help me i'm back on my bullshit#spicy text#my writing
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Fic: Countdown - Chapter 8
Fandom: SWTOR
Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight
Rating: M
Genre: Angst, H/C, Romance, Canon-Typical Violence, Humor, Canon-typical levels of poor decision-making
Synopsis: A distress call leads the Jedi Battlemaster to Ziost, but time is running out. Follows the storyline of The Rise of the Emperor and inserts missing scenes.
Author's Notes: Thank you to @storyknitter for giving this chapter a once over. You have no idea how much that means to me!
Warnings: See Chapter 1
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Crossposted to AO3
Theron Shan was talking to his mother on the holo as I entered the room, I stayed slightly out of view and allowed him to finish.
“Understood. Thank you.” He shut off the holo and gripped the edge of the console, looking down. “Thank you…” he murmured.
“What was that about?” I asked cautiously, hoping to not have an accusation in my voice.
He looked defeated as he responded. “Master Surro. She went catatonic for a while—now she’s responsive. Not in the greatest shape, but they say it’s promising.”
Without really thinking, I found myself responding, “She knew the risks going in, Theron. You have to remember that.”
“It’s one thing to know it’s true in your head…”
I nodded in understanding and glanced down as the memories of everything I’d done while under the Emperor’s influence years ago flooded to the surface, the feeling of the dark side and reveling in it and its power. Every so often, these feelings would wash over me like it was yesterday, just yesterday when I stopped and snapped to reality before I saw Kira strapped to that torture device. The nightmares still haunted, lurking behind my conscious thoughts. Up until the death of Ziost ran over me like a rampaging bantha, the memory had faded, replaced by more pleasant memories. But the nightmares remained… infrequent, but never truly gone.
For a brief moment I remembered telling him of my own experiences with the Emperor. How gentle his hands were as he cradled my face as I spoke to him about it. How soft his voice was in that moment. How the breeze blew around us over the Yavin cliff, leading to the jungle below. Leading to where I had needed to go. How I wished to stay in his arms at that moment. How I wished to be in his arms now, but I could sense his own exhaustion. He was right… it is one thing to know it’s true in your head. I didn’t want to point out the fact that she is going to have to live with those nightmares for the rest of her life, no matter what healing they could give her on Tython: he didn’t need more guilt on top of what he already had.
Another burden I will bear.
He had turned to face me and continued. “Saresh finally saw reason before things got too bad, got a bunch of our troops out of there—still, we lost so many, nevermind the rest of Ziost.”
I tried not to wince as he mentioned Ziost. Tried to push down the feeling of complete failure that tried to crush me. This conversation wasn’t about me. He had his own pain to deal with. He didn’t need mine too.
He sighed as he continued, “Add to all that, that I found out that Agent Kovach was actually working for Saresh this whole time.”
I looked down and took a deep breath. “I know. I overheard him talking to Saresh back on Ziost.”
Theron growled, “You did?” I involuntarily winced. “And you…” He stopped, looked at my face and then sighed looking down. “Makes sense I guess. It… It wasn’t the best time to sort all that out.”
“I didn’t intentionally…”
“I know. Sorry… this has been rough for all of us, I guess.”
“What’s Kovach’s status now?”
Theron shrugged. “Far as I know, he’s still pretending to work under Lana and reporting to Saresh. Anyway, it’s all out of my hands now. Suppose I shouldn’t even be here, technically.” I tilted my head as he explained. “Saresh and Master Satele weren’t all that excited to find out I had a team of black ops Jedi on call without their knowledge. I’m on administrative leave—indefinitely.”
I frowned. I understood the reasoning, but Theron wasn’t really the sort to be very comfortable sitting on his hands and doing nothing. “Forget about the SIS. I could use someone like you at my side.” As soon as the words left my mouth I almost cursed myself. Well that isn’t awkward at all.
He chuckled, looking slightly grateful, but instead responded, “I’m sure.” He paused for a bit and I wasn’t sure if he noticed my slight fidget. “Growing up, I had an idea of who and what I would be. In a lot of ways, that didn’t happen, but in the ways that matter…” he looked up at me, offering a small smile. “What I’m saying is, I belong with the SIS. I’m not throwing in the towel.”
I nodded, then thought for a moment. “Why don’t we pay a visit to the station cantina—for old times’ sake?”
Theron picked himself off the console he’d been leaning on and walked towards me. “I’ll have to take a rain check, but…” He reached out, cupping my face with warm, calloused hands, and kissed me softly. I hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing his gloves, so the touch of his skin on mine startled me before I eased into the sensation of his tongue lightly brushing against mine as our mouths were merged. I sensed his exhaustion and untreated injuries and understood. As he pulled back, he smiled at me, and lowered his voice and rested his head on my forehead, “I might be persuaded another time.”
I fought against the small ache I felt, the one that didn’t want him to let go. How at that one moment I longed to just stay right here, or perhaps just with him, in his arms. In some sort of odd sort of safety that I didn’t truly expect to feel. I didn’t really want nor need much more than just this. But the time was not right, not for either of us.
We parted; his fingers slowly lingering as they brushed my arms as he pulled away. He gave a weak smile and turned, walking towards the door and then paused to look up at the ceiling. “I should have reached out to you sooner,” he continued. “Whatever’s next, whatever insanity comes our way… I won’t make that mistake again.” He looked back to me. “May the Force be with you.”
I watched as he left the briefing room on Carrick Station. Another time I might have taken a glance downward to appreciate the view. However, all my training couldn’t hold back the dampness that began to pool in the corner of my eyes. His guilt, while I tried to encourage him otherwise, reflected my own. I turned and braced my hands against the holo console, where his had once been. And for the first time, since… I honestly cannot remember if it was some point after that first failed attempt against the Emperor or a little more recent than that… but perhaps the first time in quite a long time… I allowed myself to cry.
After a time, I turned to leave the room, ignoring a nagging sense that I wasn’t alone. I ran into a wall of Theron Shan, standing awkwardly out of the door, who then proceeded to wrap me tightly into a hug.
“I thought you had to go?” I choked out.
“I do, but that Sith was insistent... I get it now. I’m sorry.”
I wrapped my arms tighter around him, burying my face into his chest, “Don’t…”
He ran his fingers lightly down my back in a continuous motion. A few times I felt him about to speak, but he didn’t for a time. Something beeped on his wrist and I felt him sigh heavily. “Raincheck… I promise…” he said and kissed me on the forehead.
I just nodded and let him go. He offered a weak smile and motioned for me to head out first. As I did, Lord Scourge was just standing at the outside of the lift, waiting, staring at Theron with an unreadable expression.
“Right,” he paused, staring at the Sith pureblood in his way.
I sighed, “Let him go, Scourge.”
The older man gave a glance to me first, then looked back at Theron. He slowly stepped aside, but did not lose eye contact with the younger man as he slid past. Theron gave me a slight wave and a small smile as he punched in his destination in the lift.
“You didn’t need to do that… I am fine…”
“First, Jyana, you are a terrible liar. Second, you need to take care of yourself.”
I pursed my lips, looking at the elder Sith.
“Third, he needed to look past himself too.”
“Do you feel your point was made?” I raised an eyebrow.
“For now. We will see.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Let’s get going. I have a feeling Master Satele or Saresh have an idea of where I can be useful…”
I could sense a slight bit of distaste from Lord Scourge as I mentioned the Chancellor, but he did not argue and we took the lift and headed back to the Defender.
“I wondered if I’d find you here.”
I looked up from my meditation perch on a bench in front of one of the many waterfalls near the Jedi Temple on Tython. Grandmaster Satele Shan stood behind me, her hands behind her back, face serene yet kind. Grey specks had multiplied in her brown hair since the last I’d seen her. “I suppose I have gotten predictable when I’m on Tython,” I responded and looked back towards the waterfall.
“Everyone needs to find peace on their own time. This seems to be yours.”
I nodded. Looking up at the waterfall, I sighed softly. “Change is annoyingly difficult.”
“There is some peace in predictable routines. Some things don’t need to change.”
“True enough.”
She allowed silence to linger for a few minutes. I closed my eyes to just listen to the water as it flowed into the streams below. It’d been a few months since Ziost ceased to be a living world, and though the nightmares still lingered, they no longer occurred every night. I took a couple trips back to Rishi, going to Master Orgus’ old house and trying to remember the paths that he had suggested I take. Help people out, do the little things. Heal the sick, fix people’s technology so that they don’t get flooded, tiny little things I could do. I kept my ear to the wire though. Tried to follow the reports as they came in. Any hints that another Ziost was in the works. But there had been silence.
It wasn’t as if Theron had access to that information to forward me right now as it was. Not that he’d reached out to me either.
“The anger seems to have passed,” the Grandmaster said softly.
“There is little need to dwell on what cannot be changed,” I sighed a bit.
“To which do you refer: The Chancellor or Theron?”
I shrugged. “Both.”
“You disagree with his punishment.”
“It isn’t my place,” I said shaking my head, “I am more concerned with the blame he places on himself.”
Satele tilted her head curiously but remained silent.
“If I could take his burden from him, I would. But it will make him stronger. A better man, I think.”
“You care for him,” she responded softly.
I took a deep breath. “I know what he’s going through,” I deflected, “I bear similar scars I feel.”
She studied me in silence for a moment. “Some scars are necessary.”
“It is our scars that make us. Our pain, our regrets. Our joy, our sorrow. What is, is. What will be, will. We cannot turn back time, and even if we could, would we truly make different decisions?”
Satele shook her head. “No, we wouldn’t.”
She turned to look over at the waterfalls I had been focused on. I wondered for a moment if she was fishing for something, choosing to stay where she was. I didn’t allow myself to dwell too much on that and opted to return to what I had come here to do. Close my eyes, focus on the sound of the rushing water, and let the tranquility of the moment wash over me.
Sometimes, in stillness, in quiet, one can find peace. With all my training, meditating at a temple just made me restless. The quiet produced a pounding hum that drowned out my own calm, while the white noise provided by a waterfall gave me something to focus my mind on. Soothe the shaking of my knee that the Masters always had commented on: A prodigy at combat but she couldn’t stay still with meditation. Once I had discovered waterfalls on that world, it had become easier.
It was hard to think of Master Satele or Master Orgus as younglings with youngling restlessness. I never felt they would truly understand me now. But maybe they would.
What I would give to hear his reassuring voice again.
Or at least, just a hug.
“Attachments can be dangerous.”
Though my eyes were closed, I could not entirely control the twitch my right eye made at Master Satele’s quiet words rang through my mind. I opened my mouth and closed it. The quick response originally coming to mind would not be helpful, so instead I took a deep breath and opted to say nothing. I tried to clear my mind to the flow of the water over the rocks, as opposed to the rushing torrent between my ears, threatening to turn my cheeks red. I had no way to be sure what she was talking about, no way to be sure if she meant Master Orgus, who I had been thinking about at the moment of her words, or on Theron. She didn’t need me to snipe about how she didn’t really have much of a right to lecture me about feelings for her son. I definitely did not need that either. I simply needed peace.
“He cares for you,” stated Satele, with a slight push to her tone.
I opened my eyes slowly and gave her a side glance. Her eyes were closed, as if she was attempting to focus on the waterfall as well, or some other item that gave her peace. I took another breath in and then out, slowly, trying to relax my own heart.
“Jyana,” she spoke firmly.
“I came here to find some peace and some focus,” I sighed heavily, “Not to hear a lecture about the Jedi Code or some concerns about ‘Attachments.’”
She sighed a bit. “No lecture. Just concern.”
Emptying myself of emotion never worked for me. My eyebrow twitched in slight irritation. I tried to soothe my emotions so they didn’t radiate out my sleeve as others did. But I didn’t like the concept of denying my feelings or emotions either. I felt if I denied how I felt — however it was that I did — that would be the easiest thing the Emperor could latch on and pull on me. It was just as much of a slippery slope as embracing them or letting them fuel me could be.
But while I could express my slightly controversial thoughts on emotions to myself, I wasn’t really sure how to articulate them properly out loud. As well as I probably was overthinking the implications that I would be putting upon the Grandmaster herself. She had a son. She had some feelings for Theron’s father to at least get to that point. She’d also had decades of practice of cutting herself out and shielding her own feelings from showing. Whether she took time to herself to let herself feel whatever it was that she did in privacy or not, I had no way of knowing.
But what I could tell was pretty evident: She was concerned. For her own son.
Master Satele frowned slightly, but did not speak.
“How is Master Surro’s recovery?” I asked softly after a few minutes of silence.
“Slow, but there has been progress. Have you tried to speak with her?”
“I offered, but I remind her too much of her failure.”
The Grandmaster nodded. “In time.”
“She knows how to reach me should her decision change.”
She nodded in response as well and looked back to me. Whatever it was she had considered saying, she didn’t end up speaking aloud. It was difficult to read what was going on in her thoughts through the Force, but that was perhaps by design. She just gave me a curt nod and then walked back to the Jedi Temple.
I looked back towards the waterfall, closing my eyes again. Trying to focus on the whirlwind of the water instead of the whirlwind of dust upon the Ziost surface in my mind. Trying to focus on the peace and calm around me as opposed to the frantically growing louder beeping at my side.
Beeping at my side...
I blinked and looked down at the beeping and blinking holocomm. Tilting my head at it as I looked at the sender, I opened it.
“Hey,” Theron Shan appeared, scratching the back of his neck.
My heart skipped a beat. “Theron?”
He offered a small smile, still scratching the back of his neck and giving a glance to the side before looking at me directly through the holo. “About that rain check?”
#swtor fanfiction#theron shan x jedi knight#theron shan#female jedi knight/hero of tython#oc: jyana kai#otp: come what may#fic: countdown#ziost#swtor: rise of the emperor#swtor#fanfic
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When Lightning Strikes Ch. 2
When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won't even know what hit you.
Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.
[Chapter 1] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]
Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net
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Astrid couldn’t move. Couldn’t move her body, couldn’t move her eyes away from the sea of green staring back at her from across the room. She didn’t know how long it took for the spell to break. Maybe it was the guy bumping into her, maybe it was the change of volume coming from the stereo that distracted her senses enough to pull her out of whatever deep, deep pool she’d just plunged into, or maybe it was Heather waving her hands around in front of her face.
It took Astrid a few seconds to snap out of her trance and understand that Heather’s waving had been directed at someone else. Her mind climbing out of whatever that had just been, she realized that Eret had taken back his spot by her side after adjusting the stereo settings. It seemed as if no one had noticed her strange absentmindedness just now.
Someone entered their little circle of three, putting his arm around Heather’s waist. His eyes resembled a forest on an early October day, fog wafting over the earth, the first signs of sunlight breaking through thick pine trees. Astrid swallowed hard.
“This is Hiccup,” Heather introduced him, “my boyfriend.”
The fog disappeared, both from his eyes and her mind. Completely sobering up now, Astrid smiled at him in greeting and raised her drink. “Skål!”
Eret shook Hiccup’s hand. “I’m Eret, this is Astrid. She likes to go by Skål.” That earned him a punch on the arm which only made him chuckle.
“Just to be clear,” she directed her glare at Hiccup, “if you ever call me that, I am going to end you.”
Hiccup blinked at her for a moment, then the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smirk. “How?”
“Axe to the throat. Clear cut. In your sleep, when you least expect it.”
“But now you told me, so I will expect it.”
Astrid smirked back at him. “Oh, believe me, you won’t.”
“Won’t even hear her coming,” Eret chimed in. Hiccup only laughed in response, having the audacity to not even look mildly threatened. That changed, however, when two hands grabbed him by the shoulders and the unmistakable booming voice of Dagur “The Deranged” reached their ears.
"Man, isn't this party great?" He began to shake Hiccup back and forth by the shoulders and Astrid had to stifle a giggle at the pained look on the poor boy's face. "And it just got more awesome 'cause my main man Eret arrived!" He pushed Hiccup aside who stumbled forward and had to hold onto Astrid to not fall over. He let go of her immediately after he caught himself but she could still feel his hand on her arm. He shot her an apologetic smile.
Dagur and Eret spread their arms and fell into a squeezing bear hug before raising their hands and smacking them together in a high five so loud it must have hurt. Both men didn't even try to subtly shake off the pain, complimenting each other's strength and starting to talk about their recent workout strategies.
"Men, right?" Hiccup said to her in a mock-exaggerated tone which made Heather giggle. Astrid turned her head to the side when Heather leaned in to give her boyfriend a kiss.
"Can't even say hi to Dagur, he only has eyes for my fiancé," Astrid murmured. This time, it was Hiccup who chuckled. His voice was slightly nasal but in an endearing way, she found.
"Maybe he's engaged to the wrong person, then," he said, instantly backtracking when he realized what he’d just said. "I mean, I mean I didn't- I don't want to- I'm not saying that, you know-" He was gesticulating wildly with both hands, running one through his messy auburn hair and a soft layer of slight panic was covering his irises. His shoulders finally slumped in defeat. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong."
Astrid couldn't help herself, she burst into laughter, and after one startled second, Heather joined in. "It's okay, Hiccup.” She wiped a tear from her eye. His face was priceless. “I know what you meant, and I agree. If anything, these two should get hitched and take their honeymoon to a gym or some training camp. You should have seen them last year when they ran into each other at the same resort and we spent the rest of the day at the outdoor gym at the beach." She shook her head fondly. "But while I was keeping it relaxed, they were comparing bicep sizes and gossiping about the other men around, all the while flexing and flexing and flexing some more, especially at each other."
"Yes, the gym." Hiccup nodded fervently. "That's where I gained all this raw manliness." He patted his upper arms and Astrid couldn't help but notice the lean muscles he was trying to play down. "Oh wait," he looked up, eyes wide, "the gym is that place where they sell all the light bulbs, right?"
"No," Astrid said, "that one is a few buildings over."
"Ooh," Hiccup made, holding a hand to his forehead like he just experienced a big revelation. "That's why I still look like a twig."
Grinning, Astrid considered telling him how she thought the opposite, maybe leaning more into the light bulbs place joke, but Dagur chose that moment to yell her name, suddenly making her aware of the other people that were still with them.
Now it was her turn to receive one of Dagur's bear hugs, and a mixed scent of weed, sweat, alcohol and his deodorant made her wrinkle her nose.
"Happy birthday, big guy," she said and gave him a playful punch in the stomach, which was more like a little knock on the washboard he must have hidden there. Pretending to be badly hurt, he doubled over, clutching his middle. "Help, Astrid attacked me," he whined. "Now I need some good medicine. Come on, sis, let's have a drink!" Dagur laid an arm over her shoulder and attempted to walk her into the garden but stopped short when he saw how the sky had opened up and was now releasing a flood down to the earth.
"The apocalypse, awesome!" he yelled. "MORE DRINKS FOR EVERYONE!" The house erupted into cheers and soon everyone had their refill. Astrid downed a birthday shot or five with Dagur, gracefully lost against him in an arm wrestling match – two out of three, and she definitely won the second one, no matter how much he was boasting about letting her win – and let him, Eret and a guy named Erik, whose right eye already adorned an ugly shiner, sit her on their shoulders and carry her through the house. Their journey ended in the kitchen where they started tumbling too much and lost their grip on her when she leaned too far to the side to avoid a rendezvous with the kitchen lamp which hung lowly from the ceiling like a miniature chandelier.
She met a few of Dagur’s cousins, played beer pong against Hiccup (which she only lost because the alcohol was throwing off her aim, not because his skills were better), discovered he could be just as competitive as her, battled Erik in dramatic expressions (which she lost as well, don’t tell anyone), and last but not least dragged Hiccup to the TV where someone had set up a karaoke game.
“Rematch, but this time, I’m winning!” she told him and he raised one eyebrow at her.
“Because we’re not playing beer pong?”
“Yes, and because I’m going to win something. This time for sure!”
He didn’t even have to pretend to lose on purpose, she beat him at Bohemian Rhapsody big-time. Basking in her triumph, she spent the next hour victory dancing with Eret.
It could have been the alcohol, but little jolts of lightning were still coursing through her veins.
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Hiccup had anticipated this night to go far worse than it did. He’d thought he’d spend his night avoiding Dagur and his non-existent understanding of personal space while trying to not drown in the too large crowd gathered in the accordingly too small house. His only hope had been Heather – or, in the best-case scenario, Obi-Wan Kenobi. But he had promised Heather to attend her brother’s birthday party, for her, or at least for the sake of socializing. He’d only groaned and written off everything else he would rather have done but had come along anyway.
In the end, he had to admit he was having more fun at this than he would’ve had sitting on his couch binging something or sketching his cat for the umpteenth time. Dagur was bearable as long as he was focused on other people. Heather threw him I told you it would be fun-smiles every now and then. When midnight had passed, he did not find himself dead in a ditch. And he had found someone who made stupid games like beer pong and karaoke more exciting than it was allowed to be.
Astrid.
Eret’s fiancée with the beautiful eyes and blinding smile. With the iron fist and the ability to glare at someone so fiercely they wanted to turn on their heels and run to their mommy. Astrid with the thunder in her soul.
He still couldn’t forget that strange moment when the thunderstorm had started, when he had been able to feel that flash of lightning everywhere inside of him. He wondered if every storm now would bring up the image of blue eyes opened wide, of eternal milliseconds filled with high voltage, of white spots dancing in front of his vision curtesy of the intensity of the flash.
Hiccup didn’t know what to make of it. Had it been a coincidence that he had met her eyes the very moment the lightning had struck, like some grand romantic sign? It couldn’t have been love at first sight, because that concept was only a myth. Besides, he had Heather. And he didn’t believe that people could see each other and immediately be in love. Love was something that had to grow, had to be nourished and cherished. Such a deep bond couldn’t exist from one second to the other.
But a connection at first sight, a mutual feeling of sympathy, maybe even an attraction – that he believed to be possible. The best example for that was he and his best friend Fishlegs. On the first day of college, they’d sat next to each other and immediately formed a connection, the conversation flowing easily between them. Maybe it was the same with Astrid. It was true; they did get along splendidly and he felt like he could be himself around her. He wouldn’t mind staying in contact with her after this night.
Right now, however, she had disappeared somewhere in the dancing crowd with her fiancé after she had beaten him at karaoke.
“Hiccup, I’m proud of you,” Heather’s voice came from beside him. His girlfriend intertwined their fingers and kissed him on the cheek. “Singing in front of all these strangers with someone you only met a few hours ago? Didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Thanks, I guess.” He felt himself blush and rubbed his neck. He was surprised as well, would have panicked at the thought of doing this just yesterday. Now that she made him aware of it, his self-consciousness made itself known again. He counted at least a few dozen people just in this room. Had they all heard him sing, if one could even call what he’d done with his vocal cords singing? Did they laugh about him making a fool of himself? Did they now think of him as an idiot, a moron way down below them? Would they forever remember him like this, would he become a story they told people so they could laugh about him together?
Hiccup realized he was spiraling and cursed at himself. He’d been doing so well until now. Fuck.
“I need some air,” he told Heather and freed his hand from hers. “Are you coming?”
“Are you okay?” she asked, face concerned and analyzing. He thought about telling her of his feelings but he already knew the approach she would take. Tell him he shouldn’t think about it too much, shouldn’t talk himself down again. But although he knew she just wanted to help and was serious about it, her strategy wouldn’t work on him. It never had before.
So instead of discussing that with her, he nodded and gave her a peck on the lips. “I’m fine, I just need a little fresh air.”
“If you say so,” Heather said, eyes set on a spot behind him. “Will you be okay then on your own? Because I’d rather stay in the kitchen, it looks like some asshat is trying to get himself electrocuted.”
Hiccup turned around and peeked over people’s heads to get a better view of the open kitchen. Some nimrod was indeed standing on the table, tinkering with the lamp. It was the same guy who’d shown up a while ago looking as if he’d already been in a fistfight prior to his arrival. Now that he thought about it, he swore he’d seen him talk to Astrid earlier.
Astrid, karaoke, people, suffocation- Hiccup took a deep breath, hoping it would stop his mind from spiraling further, and headed for the garden door.
The cool air hitting his face as soon as he stepped outside was a welcome change, sinking into his skin and slowly chasing away the anxiety. A couple of deep breaths later, his stomach untwisted itself, his heart was beating more comfortably again, and the pressing negative thoughts concerning his self-worth retreated into a corner of his mind.
It was no longer pouring; what remained was the almost therapeutic smell of summer rain and grass. In a nook of the porch, a small lamp attracted moths and mosquitos dancing close to the light. Crickets were throwing their own party in the garden, creating a counter world to the one behind him, the house’s walls and glass windows the only barrier between the two.
It would have been peaceful, if not for the loud music coming from inside and the few drunk people disturbing the scene. Some were smoking, some were making out in corners of the garden, one guy was relieving himself on Dagur’s little vegetable patch (Hiccup wondered if Dagur was trying to grow meat there), and a woman was stargazing from the deckchair on the lawn, although he wasn’t sure if she was actually passed out.
He leaned against a post and closed his eyes, relishing this break from the buzz of a large crowd constantly keeping him on edge. He’d gotten better at handling his fears over the recent years; only one or two years ago, his insides would have twisted and turned at the mere thought of going to a party where he didn’t know anyone besides his girlfriend and her crazy brother. And truth be told, he had been battling the urge to disappear into a quiet corner where no one could see him, where no one could judge him.
But for one, Dagur would have found him eventually. And second, he didn’t want to fall back into old patterns. In his mind, he started to list all the negative thoughts that had crawled out of their prison, tried to poison his mind, and snake their way back to his heart. He recalled what Dr. Mala had taught him and systematically sucked the life out of them with rationality.
It went surprisingly easy this time, confidence flowing back into his body and that thrilling spark sending little bolts of lightning down his back. A smile grew on his face. It felt good.
Hiccup didn’t know how long he stood there until the door opened and closed, the noise from the party momentarily escaping into the night. Afterwards, he couldn’t tell how he’d known, but he wasn’t surprised when he heard her speak.
“Also running from Dagur?”
He opened his eyes and turned to her when she stepped towards him and leaned her arms on the wooden banister. The golden light from the porch lamp caught in her eyes, illuminating the sky that lived inside them.
“Constantly,” he answered and watched the corners of her mouth twitch.
“That guy is nuts.”
Hiccup rolled his eyes. “You have no idea.”
When he didn’t continue, Astrid poked him with an elbow. “Hiccup, that kind of sentence usually precedes a story of some kind.”
“You really wanna hear about the time he thought trying to drown me in a lake was a fun game to play around children?” She snickered, briefly leaning into his side, a little unsteady on her feet. “Or when he decided to educate me in tough bro culture and took me camping in the woods for three days?”
Astrid let out a snort and he saw her shoulders shake in silent laughter.
“Yeah, picture that. Me and him sharing a small tent, hunting and fishing for our meals, with no bathroom or shower nearby. Only each other’s company and that of hundreds of insects and the beasts of the forest. Real manly bro stuff, just what every guy needs.”
She stopped holding back and what started as a chuckle soon grew louder, breaking Hiccup’s own deadpan façade as well.
After a minute, their laughter faded and they fell into comfortable silence. Even though it was dark and new clouds started gathering in the sky, concealing the moon and the few stars that had been visible before, the light from the house made it easy to take in the surroundings. The grass hadn’t been cut in a while, growing wildly all over the lawn. In the near distance, the silhouette of part of Berk’s forest defined the landscape. The faint smell of weed came wafting from another part of the garden.
“It’s really nice here,” she murmured, voice a little absent, as if she was deep in thought.
Blocking out the weed smell, he glanced over at her. “Yeah, it is.” She was still leaning on the banister, a soft smile gracing her features, contently gazing ahead. His eyes roamed the side of her face, her round cheeks, her button nose, her lips. A few strands of hair had fallen out of her braid and were stuck to her sweaty skin. His fingers twitched to reach out and–
He caught himself in the last moment, his hand already hovering in the air.
Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! Wincing, he let his arm fall back at his side and swallowed hard. Where had that just come from?
“I… I’m… Um– “ he started, drawing her attention. Staring at her frown for a few moments, he opened and closed his mouth a couple times until he stepped back with a shake of his head. “I’m going to– I, I’m, I’m gonna go back inside.”
And with that, he darted back into the house, dodging Dagur and disappearing behind a wall of people.
He could still feel her confused scowl on the back of his head.
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A/N: Small note on Erik to avoid confusion: He doesn't have any significance in this story. His only purpose is to be a (vague) reference to a character from a completely different fandom. If you know who I'm referring to, you'll get a big virtual jar of cookies. :D
#httyd#hiccstrid#hiccup haddock#astrid hofferson#eret#heather#dagur#modern au#ff#fic#fanfic#maja writes#when lightning strikes#a bit of angst with a dash of drama#or the other way around
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TTA Oneshot: Creature Feature
This oneshot was spawned from me wondering why, if Beast Boy can become alien animals, he never takes advantage of that fact to morph into sapient alien animals with superpowers of their own. I still don't have an answer for why he never tried going dragon after the team fought Malchior, though. Maybe that form is too big to maneuver through the city?
Fun fact: the episode Betrothed is immediately followed by Crash, which actually gives this story a neat little niche to fit in. You'll see what I mean later in the story.
(This oneshot is crossposted on fanfiction.net, as part of the Moments series)
Creature Feature
Beast Boy narrowed his eyes and stared at his hand. He was alone in the common room, sprawled out on the couch with a forgotten comic tossed to the side.
The Titans had recently returned from their first-ever trip to Tamaran, and it had certainly been… an experience. A good experience in the end, mind you, but the whole wedding thing and Starfire being a princess and Blackfire having at some point taken over the planet and then the wedding thing being a trap that they stopped and Starfire kicking her sister’s sorry butt and taking the crown… It had all been kinda overwhelming.
Pretty cool though. Even if Beast Boy still couldn’t figure out how half the furniture on that planet worked. Was that what Star had felt like when she first came to Earth?
Anyway, point was, so much had happened during their little space trip that he had almost forgotten something cool he’d learned about himself. Now that he remembered, though, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head.
A low whoosh signaled the entrance of another Titan, and Beast Boy’s ears pricked. He sat up and looked over the back of the couch to see Starfire floating through the doorway.
A wide grin split his face. “Hey, Star! You got a sec? I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”
Starfire perked up at the sound of his voice, and she made her way over. “What is it?”
Beast Boy started bouncing in his seat. “So, you know those giant freaky Tamaranean guard dogs?”
Starfire blinked. “Guard do- You mean the gloorgs?”
“Sure, the gloogs or whatever. Point is, when we were trying to crash your wedding, I was able to morph into one! How cool is that?”
Starfire’s eyes widened a fraction, and she sat down and scooted closer to him. “Fascinating. So, you wish to learn more about Tamaranean wildlife so you may better wield their forms?”
Beast Boy shook his head, still grinning. “Not exactly. See, sentient lifeforms like humans are just really smart animals, right? So if I can turn into Tamaranean animals, then I should be able to turn into a Tamaranean. How cool is that?!”
Now, when he had pictured this conversation in his head, this part had led to a lot of gobsmacked awe and maybe a call for celebration over the sheer potential of his newfound power. Tamaraneans were, after all, a plainly powerful race – and not the only one, either. With a little effort, he could probably morph into a Martian, or an Atlantean, or even a freaking Kryptonian.
He could be ALL the superheroes.
Instead, Starfire’s response was simply to clap once and smile at him. “Oh, that does sound interesting! I would be quite happy to share more of my heritage with you, if that is what you wish.”
Well… That wasn’t quite the expected level of enthusiasm. Beast Boy deflated a little, but he shook it off. She probably just hadn’t considered all the ramifications yet.
“Okay, just sit tight,” he said instead, adjusting his position. “I’m gonna try it.”
Starfire nodded, and Beast Boy squinted and tried to focus. His shapeshifting was more-or-less an instinctive thing, but he needed a firm grasp of the animal in question to do it. He was too used to thinking of Star as just another person with powers, rather than a whole different species.
After a few moments, he pinpointed what he wanted and stretched. That was the only way he could ever think of to describe it, even when he was shrinking his form.
It was a… bizarre sensation. He was used to changing shape completely, his flesh warping around itself in a way that was a lot less unpleasant than it sounded. This time the shift was much more subtle – little more than a vague tingling sensation and a few more noticeable shifts in his face and gut. That was… probably a good sign?
Not sure what else to do, he held up a hand and looked at it again, flexing and curling his fingers. He couldn’t see any difference, but no real surprise there. Still…
“Hey, do I look any different to you?” he asked her. “Taller, maybe? I feel like Tamaraneans are all really tall.”
Starfire looked him over and hummed in thought, then smiled. She zipped over to the kitchen and rummaged around for a few moments before returning with a large metal platter and holding it up to him.
Beast Boy squinted at his reflection. It took him a moment to notice what with all the green already on his face, but then his eyes widened.
The whites of said eyes weren’t so white anymore. Also, his eyebrows had shrunk to little dots.
With a triumphant cackle, he leaped up on the couch. “Dude! It really worked! I’m a Tamaranean now!” He started punching the air.
“Okay, when do I get to start chucking starbolts at bad guys?”
Starfire set the platter down and commented, “I very much doubt that you will be able to do that.”
Beast Boy froze mid-punch. “Huh? Why not?”
Starfire leaned back on her hands. “It takes a significant amount of power to generate enough stellar energy for ranged use. It bears similarities to training the muscles to increase your strength.” She shrugged. “I required several years of training to use starbolts with any consistency.”
Beast Boy frowned. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.”
Well, bummer. Still, he wasn’t about to be deterred. Hopping down to the floor, he asked, “So what about flying then? I could still fly around and punch stuff and not have to worry about my arms getting tired!”
Starfire perked up. “Oh, that is much simpler! For that you must focus on the unbridled joy of flight. If you feel flight, and allow that feeling to buoy you, then it will come to you naturally.”
Joy? Piece of cake. Beast Boy squeezed his eyes shut and pictured himself zooming through the air, doing loop-de-loops and punching through walls and all the other cool stuff he’d seen Star do even when she wasn’t hurling glowey green lasers around.
It was going to be awesome.
With that last thought, something clicked in his head and he felt his feet leave the ground. His eyes snapped open to find himself halfway to the ceiling.
“Ha-hah!” he shouted, pumping both fists in the air. “Behold the mighty Space Boy! I am invincible! I am –”
And that was when he smacked his head hard against the ceiling.
“So that’s how I learned that stopping and steering with weird mental flight powers is a lot harder when you haven’t grown up doing it.”
Beast Boy, human again, held an ice pack against the back of his head as he finished his story. From where she was meditating a few feet away, Raven cracked an eye open and turned it on him.
“Did you really hit yourself hard enough to need that?” she asked.
Beast Boy shrugged. “Eh, not really. Tamaraneans are pretty tough.” With a grumble he added, “And now I know why.”
He pulled the ice pack away and frowned at it. “Also, apparently they need to focus on something to make super strength work, too? What is even up with that?”
“Considering Starfire can tear through solid concrete with the muscle mass of a bean pole, I’d imagine a lot.”
Beast Boy’s eyes slid over to her, and a smirk made its way to his mouth. “Buuut, you know what does make sense as something you need focus for?”
Raven opened her other eye and narrowed both at him. “I don’t like where this is going.”
Beast Boy jumped to his feet and started bouncing on his heels. “Seriously! You’re from, like, another dimension, right? And your magic kinda works on its own, so it’s gotta come from whatever species you are instead of being something you have to study for like a wizard. Tell me I’m wrong!”
His companion simply crossed her arms. “I’m half human.”
“Really? Oh, well, the other half then.” He gasped. “Or maybe I could actually be a hybrid! Why did I never think of that before? I could mix together all the best species and become some sort of ultra-beast!”
Raven rolled her eyes. “Hybrids don’t work that way.” Sighing with the air of defeat that said she’d never get her meditation done now, she swung her legs out of the lotus position and stood up.
For his part, Beast Boy shook his head. “Right. One thing at a time.” He returned his full attention to her.
“Sooo, spill the details. What do I need to know about your super-cool interdimensional magic half?”
Raven looked suddenly very uncomfortable, for reasons he couldn’t quite place. Looking back on the conversation later, he’d come to conclude that it probably had something to do with the freaky giant probably-not-the-human-parent “father” he’d once seen in her mindscape (and much later he’d understand that it had everything to do with him). But for now, all he knew was that she was avoiding eye contact and hesitating as if looking for an excuse to change the subject.
Finally, she shook her head and settled on a simple, “Forget it. It’s way too dangerous, and if you couldn’t handle Tamaranean powers then there’s no way you’d be able to handle mine.”
Beast Boy deflated. “Aww, how come? Your powers are a straightforward ‘think a thing, make a shield or whatever,’ right? No special physical training or weird emotion games.”
Raven let out a long-suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “First off, it’s not that simple. But more importantly, let’s put it this way. You remember the incident with the Puppet King, when Starfire and I had to save you with our bodies switched?”
Beast Boy shuddered a little at the memory. “It’s kinda hard to forget.”
“You might not have noticed considering your… condition at the time, but the differences in our training and emotional states meant we both had trouble with each other’s powers. In my case, I had a hard time accessing her powers because of the emotional energy they required.”
Beast Boy snorted and muttered, “Yeah, no wonder,” under his breath. Raven turned a withering glare on him, and after a few moments of squirming he cleared his throat.
“Uh, sorry. Go on.”
The sorceress just kept her warning look on him as she continued. “In her case, she was in a constant struggle to keep from accidentally blowing us up.”
It took him a few seconds for that to fully sink in.
“…Oh.”
“Aww, come on, you gotta have something!”
Hot Spot let out a low sigh over the communicator. “I don’t know what to tell you. I was raised by human parents, my powers and the ones the other hybrid kids have are all different, and I haven’t exactly taken the time to study H’san Natall biology. For all I know, you wouldn’t get any new powers at all.”
Beast Boy groaned dramatically and flopped over on his chair. “Duude, I’m having like no luck with this!” He huffed. “Thanks anyway.”
Hot Spot gave him a flat look. “Yeeeeah, next time you want to learn more about the vicious alien invaders who secretly sired and later kidnapped me, just feel free to hit me up.”
After a moment’s thought, he added, “Have you tried Aqualad yet? You guys are buddies or something, right?”
Beast Boy chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Yeah, turns out like half of his powers are some kinda magic that doesn’t come with the species.”
There was a long awkward moment where neither hero knew where to take the conversation. “So, is that everything?” Hot Spot finally asked. “Because if you didn’t need anything else…”
Beast Boy sighed. “Yeah, that was it. Talk to you later.”
The line went out, and he looked morosely over his list of non-human Titans. It wasn’t too short considering there were only five core members and a handful of honoraries, and he’d been so sure he could find something that worked. But Hot Spot had been his last hope. Maybe he should just try morphing into a H’san Natall and see what happened?
He tried that, squeezing his eyes shut and focusing on what he knew about Hot Spot. He strained for several seconds, but nothing clicked, nothing stretched, and in the end, he probably just looked like an idiot.
Well, nuts. Either he couldn’t do hybrids after all and Hot Spot wasn’t enough to give him the full species, or whatever had let him morph Tamaranean didn’t apply here.
Technically, he could still ask Robin to hook him up with the Justice League’s alien members. But if he couldn’t even work out how to mimic his own teammates, what was the point?
With nothing else to do now that his little project had failed, Beast Boy found himself heading toward the garage. Cyborg was there, making yet more upgrades to the T-car.
“This is delicate work, don’t touch anything,” he said by rote as he saw his friend enter.
Beast Boy sighed again and plopped down on a workbench. “Yeah, I know.”
Cyborg looked up from his work. “No luck with ‘Space Boy,’ I’m guessing? Because I hate to tell you, but I don’t think robots count as a species.”
“You heard about that?”
“The girls filled me in.” Cyborg switched tools and got back to work.
Beast Boy flopped back on the bench. “You know what’s really nice? Animal instincts. Not having to work out how to fly, or pounce, or use your teeth and claws, because you just know.”
Cyborg raised a brow at him. “You have to train with your animal forms all the time.”
The shapeshifter frowned. “I guess. But they still make more sense than starbolts or magic.”
Cyborg snorted and wiped his hands off with a cloth. “Coulda told you that.” He frowned thoughtfully.
“You know, maybe you’ve been going about this all wrong. That Tamaranean guard thing was impressive. Have you tried anything new other than sapient beings with complex powersets of their own?”
Beast Boy’s ears perked, and he sat up slowly. “I guess I haven’t really thought a lot about it yet. You think I could do more alien animals?”
Without another thought he shifted back into a gloorg. Cyborg yelped and ran around to shield the car with his body, but the now-alien creature just shifted his weight a little and trotted in place, testing out the new form.
Morphing back, he hummed in thought. “Not too different from some of my dinosaurs, but I still don’t know all of its tricks and there’s a whole planet of probably terrifying animals to explore. I gotta talk to Star!”
Cyborg glared at him, still pressed against his baby. “Please don’t experiment like that next to the delicate machinery.”
Beast Boy waved off the comment, barely registering it. “Yeah, sure thing. Ooh! Maybe I can do hybrids, like a liger or something. Would that be any better than a regular tiger? Oh! Or what if I go the opposite way? Maybe I could be an amoeba. It’d be the perfect infiltrator!”
Peeling himself off the car, Cyborg frowned. “Does that even count as an animal?”
“Not according to modern taxonomy, but neither should alien creatures, so who knows!” Beast Boy cackled and started vaulting up the stairs to the tower proper, two steps at a time. “Space Boy, AWAY!”
He couldn’t see the look on his friend’s face as he ran off to find Starfire again, but as much as he wanted it to be awe and maybe a little envy over his mad skills, he knew it was probably something more akin to pure bafflement. That was okay. As far as he was concerned, Beast Boy had a whole world – no, a whole galaxy of options just waiting to be tried. He didn’t know how many of those options he’d end up using on a regular basis, but that was okay too.
Because whatever happened, it was going to be awesome.
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oath keeping
Characters / Pairing: Soriku
crossposted on ao3
Summary: Some promises are kept, some are broken.
( Or: Six promises that Riku makes to Sora )
( pinky promises, cross my heart and hope to die )
“Riku!” Sora whines after him, a sound that is almost grating on ears. When he doesn’t say anything, he whines louder and Riku laughs; pausing to allow the other to catch up with him, while he catches his breath.
“What? I said I was sorry, didn’t I? It’s not my fault you weren’t paying attention.” He’s as smug as a four year old can be, and turns his head to look at the other, and— uh-oh. That was the wrong thing to say, apparently, given the way Sora puffs up his cheeks, turning teary eyes upon him.
“No fair, you cheated!” Being older and stronger and not being easily distracted isn’t cheating, is what Riku would like to say, but that’s not going to help. Even if he’s right, Sora isn’t going to want to listen logics right now. There’s no being logical with a ( barely ) four year old Sora on the verge of throwing a fit.
“Sora, I said I was sorry.” He mutters ( which is true, he was! He’d thought he was paying attention and thus, fair game ); which is still not the thing Sora wants to hear, if the return of his whine is to be any indication. Riku sighs, offering his hand out towards him, one finger extended— a gesture that he knows will work time and time again. Arguably a cheap tactic to sate him, but what works, works; nothing wrong with taking advantage of that fact. Sora has always been such a child, placated with gestures like these ( Riku laughs to himself at the fact that as expected, he is quick to latch onto the gesture, like many times before ).
“It won’t happen again, promise.” He assures and smiles to himself when he feels the tightening of a finger around his own; knows that even if such promises aren’t kept, there will always be a way to mend them.
i.
“I meant it, you know.” Sora speaks suddenly, breaking the silence— it is not unlike him, really; child doesn’t like much silence. Riku doesn’t mind it, a small tilt of his head and an inquisitive hum as an indication to continue speaking whilst they sit and watch the night sky. “You’re my best friend, Riku. No matter what happens, I’ll keep you safe. Promise.”
Ah, so that’s what he’s talking about. The lady that had shown up at the island. Riku doesn’t really care to remember stuff like that ( the promises, that is— he may remember the people forever and ever, proof that there is a world that exists far beyond his reach is a treasure that he cannot put into words ). It’s so like Sora to get hung up on the sentimentality of something like that— does a kid like him even comprehend the weight of the words that he says? Probably not. It is for the best, honestly, Sora would just try and take things too seriously.
( One of them should be able to act like the children they are, after all )
“No, I’ll protect you. I swear it.” He speaks to himself, a soft murmur under his breath. Even from himself— he’ll save him from having to bear that weight.
We’ll always be together, I promise.
“Did you say something, Riku?” He is pulled from his thoughts; starts slightly at the sound of the other’s voice, a little closer than it had been before. Sora’s expression is curious, so he probably doesn’t have to worry that he heard anything.
“Nothing.” Riku shakes his head at him, grabbing their wooden swords as he gets up with a smirk and takes off. “Last one home has to clean the boats tomorrow!”
“Riku, no fair!” Sora calls after him with a yelp; but the sound of footsteps follow his, a good-natured laugh from the both of them as they race back towards town.
Above them, the sky is a dazzling sight of shooting stars.
ii.
“You wouldn’t try and leave the island without me, right?”
Riku opens an eye to look at the brunet from where he is perched on the tree, raising a brow at him. “Hello to you too. Did you already help Kairi out with the raft today, or have you come to slack off?”
“Riku, I’m serious.” Sora whines, hopping up onto the trunk to sit next to him.
“So am I. It’s not going to build itself, you know.” Still, Riku sits up to make room for him— when they were kids, there’d always seemed like there was so much room there. Now, they can hardly sit comfortably without touching. He’s not— he doesn’t know what to think.
“I brought Kairi the stuff she needs for the sail. Now answer the question.” He blinks; he knows Sora gets more temperamental when he’s impatient ( but what exactly brought this on, he has no clue ).
“Of course not. We always promised, that we’d go explore the other worlds together. That didn’t change when we agreed to take Kairi with us.” Is it because they’d been more serious about the subject recently? Because they’ve actually made progress recently and could actually leave soon? Can Sora tell that he’s itching to leave all of this behind and be free? Riku isn’t entirely sure what’s going on, watching the way he relaxes as soon as he speaks.
“Good! I was just making sure that you haven’t changed your mind.” Riku rolls his eyes, idly swinging his legs.
“You were rubbing the back of your neck.” As if Sora could really fool him. He ignores the noise of confusion ( or rather, surprise, he thinks ) that he voices, continuing to speak. “You were lying. What’s really on your mind?”
Sora is quiet for a few moments— despite popular belief, Sora was very capable of being silent when the occasion called for it— seemingly reluctant to admit to whatever it was that was bothering him. “It’s just...haven’t you noticed? We haven’t really been...spending time together like we used to. Like we’re getting distant. I just...missed it. It was silly of me to think you’d leave us behind.”
Sora’s right, when Riku thinks about it. With how much effort they had been making with the raft ( well, some of them had been making, anyways ), there wasn’t time to hang out and play like they used to. They aren’t kids anymore, he rationalizes, they don’t really need to hang out like that all the time. But...can he fault Sora for feeling left behind? Of course not, even if he’s not entirely sure how he got such an idea in his mind. “You want to share another paopu so I can’t leave you behind?” He teases, elbowing his side ( there’s something reassuring about knowing that he’s been missed, even if it’s a thought that hadn’t exactly crossed his mind before this ). “Come on Sora, you know I’m not going without you. We always swore that we’d go together to explore the other worlds. I’m not breaking that promise. Remember? Cross my heart and hope to die.” He does his best to not snicker at such childish words, lest Sora think he is any less serious. He can break any other number of promises, but that one— at least that one, he has to keep.
( That’s the one promise that would kill him to break )
That seems to click with him, as an arm is slung around his shoulders and Sora pulls him in closer, smile radiant. “Yeah, I know! If you go off without me, then I’ll just come after you and bring you home. Pinky swear!”
He snorts at that; such a child at heart, Sora still is— he hopes he can stay that way, that no matter what happens in the future, that part of him won’t change. Riku watches him for a moment before nodding, a fondness distant in his gaze as he stares out at the horizon; something wistful in his chest.
He hopes it is not too selfish to wish that a day like the one he has described never comes to be.
iii.
The atmosphere is suffocating in the room, sometimes. The walls are so blank, so white and suffocating; like a prison, he cannot imagine what it must feel like to stay there all the time ( in that case, it’s understandable why Naminé must like putting up pictures on the walls— bring some life in the room ). He can’t help but get the feeling Sora would hate it, so it is probably for the best that he is asleep while he is stuck here.
“Sorry,” Riku murmurs when he realizes that he’s been ignoring her, if the curious look the blonde gives him is to be of any indication. He’s thankful for the fact she is patient with him. “Can I...” Can he what? He has no right to be asking anything of her— they are the same, in that sense, perhaps. There’s a moment of silence as he takes a moment to mull over what he wants, properly put together the words he wants to voice. “I just need a moment alone.”
Just a moment with him, even if he’s not awake for it.
Naminé seems understanding of it ( of course she would be, she’s held so many threads of their memories in her hands ), a soft murmur of words he can’t quite catch before she leaves him be. Riku is quiet as he stares up at the pod, tugging up his blindfold slightly before tentatively taking a step closer.
“Sora.” He exhales softly; even just that much, just a name, feels right. “Sorry. It’s...hard remembering, sometimes. Part of the process, apparently. I could never forget about you entirely though.” No, he’s too memorable— something says that no matter what, some part of him would still remember Sora in the end. Erase the memories, but never the feelings. A pause, before he tentatively reaches a hand up to press just barely against the front of the pod. “I think— no, I know I’ve forgotten some important things. I think...I’ve broken a promise I made. Not that’s anything new, is it? I did that before, and yet...every time you forgave me. You really shouldn’t have.”
Bits and pieces of memories that he can’t tell are his stick out in his mind, echoes of promises and oaths are kept somewhere in his chest. Perhaps it is odd to be saying these things to someone who can’t hear him, but there is a comfort in saying them aloud ( and truthfully, Riku knows he is too cowardly to ever actually say them to Sora’s face ). “I know it doesn’t matter, but…until I can remember, I’ll make a new promise. To make sure you stay safe.”
To make sure he can wake up all right. That is his goal, so it should be okay to make that promise. He pulls his hand back as he steps away, nodding to himself; spares him one last look before tugging his blindfold back into place as he leaves.
Sora, I’ll prove that I’ve grown. I can protect you both this time. I swear it.
He can’t help but wonder if he imagined a warmth enveloping his hand when he spoke those words.
iv.
“Are you ready?” Riku pauses a little at the sound of the other speaking, eyes just barely peeking out from behind his bangs. It feels odd, in a sense, to be here with him, when he has spent so much time on his own before this— so much time trying to keep him safely in the dark ( which of them he was really trying to protect, Sora or himself, is debatable ). There are things he wants to say, things that he needs to say, but now it’s not the time for it. No, there will be time for it later; he has already waited all this time that a little longer will not hurt at the end of the day. “Riku? Did you hear me?” Sora’s voice sounds once again, and Riku offers him a small shake of his head and an apologetic grimace.
“Sorry. I was just thinking about something. What were you saying?” He opts to ignore the frown that he gets for that response, instead choosing to watch the others ( force of habit, really, he’s spent so much time as an outsider lately, just watching from a distance while he went his own way ).
“I was asking if you’re ready? You look a little pale, Riku. I don’t think anyone would be upset with you if you needed to sit out on this one.” Is that all it was? He is, admittedly, a bit clammy, but shrugs off the other’s concern.
“Probably just from wearing that cloak. It was a little warm. Besides, I’ve always been a little pale, you’ve said so yourself.”
“Riku,” Sora grabs onto his arm, voice soft, but stern. “Riku, your hands are shaking.”
He pauses to glance down at his arms, as if in disbelief ( Sora is correct, of course, although he’s not sure when he started shaking ); then does his best to shake off the other’s grip. “I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with, okay?”
“Riku!” The brunet speaks more insistently this time, refusing to let the topic be dropped so quickly— or let go of him either, Riku has to remind himself that Sora’s gotten stronger too. “We just talked about this. You can depend on us too, you know. You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore. We always promised to do things together, right? So we’re going to do this together too.”
Riku is pretty sure those promises do not apply to a situation like this, but he appreciates the sentiment— he understands what Sora point is trying to make. “I’ll be fine...or at least, I’ll feel better once we’re done with this place.” It’s not the real issue at hand, but he hopes he sounds reassuring enough.
“Well then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” The brunet tugs on his arm and starts dragging him towards the stairwell all too enthusiastically. Whether Sora actually believes him, or is simply choosing to tackle one issue at a time— well, he’ll settle for whatever this is.
Yes, Riku thinks. Let’s go.
Maybe then he’ll finally be able to keep his promises.
ivs.
“And you promise it won’t hurt?” He asks yet again, and the journal— he tries to hide a grimace when he has to nod.
“You won’t feel a thing.” Not as far as Sora would remember, anyways. There’s something cruel about being left to be the one that has to make this choice, but...it’s fine. He’s just a journal as far as anyone was concerned, they were just pieces of data to everyone else, weren’t they? Not entirely real; he doesn’t have that capacity to feel, as far as anyone else was aware of.
( He may not have a capacity to feel, but what about Sora? Did they really think that pieces of data just acted like that? )
“Mm, well...okay Riku. I don’t really know if I like what you’re saying, but I trust you.”
Of course Sora does, he thinks bitterly. Even when he doesn’t have a clue what he’s telling him, Riku has his trust— he doesn’t deserve even that.
“Alright.” He says, a sigh; reluctantly, the journal knows he needs to leave before he feels compelled to change his mind. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
“You promise?” Sora’s voice crackles through the screen that separates them.
“I promise.” He echoes back, slightly comforted when he sees the smile Sora has on his face as he says farewell.
( Is there any real weight to words said by pieces of data like them? How much does that promise really bind them, when one of them won’t even remember? )
That smile, that promise— those are the things he chooses to hold onto, even when the other forgets.
v.
Something beckons to him from the depths of sleep— like a harsh tug on his soul that calls for him to awaken. And something else warm, familiar to him, washes over and soothes him as if to send him back to sleep.
Riku!
But the beckoning cuts through the fog of sleep.
What is it that is calling to him?
Protect. Like it is in his instincts, he needs to protect, he thinks. But protect what? What is missing here?
Sora!
Sora. That is the name of the warmth that surrounds him. Where is Sora? He’s not...not supposed to be alone like this.
Can he protect him if he stays here in the warmth? If the warmth is where Sora is, maybe he can protect him by staying here with him. Riku follows the feeling beckoning to him and goes to sleep once more.
Maybe in his dreams, he can finally keep his promise to keep them safe.
Elsewhere, he awakens.
vi.
“Are you leaving now?” Riku’s not sure where she came from, but Kairi has apparently invited herself into his room. He spares her a glance before resuming packing ( it’s the bare essentials really, but given the fact he has no clue where his search will lead, there’s no harm in being a little extra prepared ).
“As soon as everything finally settles, yes. I think...I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ve kept him waiting long enough. Either way, we don’t even know where to look. Might as well get started. It’s not like I’m going alone either.”
She hums, assisting with making his bag seem a bit more organized. “I know. Be careful? You know if something happens to you, he’s just going to go back after you. Don’t make it all for nothing. I want both of you back home, safe and sound.”
Home. Hah, that’s a thought. Can they really call it home, without both of them there? “No promises. Taking risks like Sora might be the key to get him back.”
Kairi sighs at him ( but really, did she expect anything else from him? ), before shoving something into his hand. “Take this, at least. It’ll make me feel better.”
Riku smiles at the charm in his hand, carefully tucks it away for safe keeping ( once, he might’ve been jealous of Sora over a silly thing like this ). Even if that’s all Riku felt like he’s done is chase Sora’s shadow all this time; it feels fitting, kind of, that it’s his turn now.
I’ll just come after you and bring you home. Sora’s voice rings in his head; a promise long ago, almost forgotten. Yes, he’d always said that he’d bring him home— maybe it’s his turn to do so for a change.
A promise that he makes to himself, and keeps.
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Don’t Thank Me Yet Chapter 2
Rating: M (guns, casual murder, torture, violence, ptsd, dissociation, blood, injury)
Pairing: ritshou
Summary: “Alright then. I’m Shou,” he says, introducing himself more properly this time. “I’m an esper, like you, the first in existence to be forcibly awoken by Claw’s crazy torture machines. They kidnap kids with potential latent psychic powers and break them, over and over, until either their powers emerge or they die. It doesn’t matter either way to them.” His expression hardens as he speaks, clear distaste and outright malice evident in his tone. “I could really use your help here, you know. A partner of sorts, someone to watch my back. What do you say?" Ritsu hesitates. He isn’t a fighter by any means, and the psychic powers now churning beneath his skin are still very new and frightening. It’s all very overwhelming, but Ritsu can’t help but feel a sort of sickening hope at Shou’s promise for revenge. It did have a sort of dark draw to it. In which Claw is a lot worse than they seem and Shigeo isn't able to find his brother after he's kidnapped.
Crossposted to AO3: Chapter 2
Chapter 1 // Chapter 3
Here's chapter 2! My idea for the time being is to update every Wednesday if I can, but I'm also doing summer term which means not a lot of writing time left over so those updates may get a bit sparser near the end! At the moment I have almost 5 chapters out of 8 at drafted, so hopefully that will help me have some extra time to make sure everything ends up polished!
Thanks to my beta readers @shutupeleven and @soapipia for helping me edit this chapter! Your help is much appreciated my friends!
Shou pushes the door of the empty house open with his powers, letting it swing open noisily in front of him. He tightens his grip on the arm around his shoulder, feeling the weight of his partner heavy against his side. His other arm is wrapped around Ritsu’s waist, offering as much physical support as he can. “You still with me, dude?” he asks, making his way over to an old couch in the area of the house that’s been designated the med bay.
He can practically feel Ritsu rolling his eyes at his dramatics as Shou helps him sit down on the couch, wincing as his sore body protests every movement. “I’m not gonna die, Shou, I’m just a little banged up,” Ritsu replies, leaning his head back against the top of the couch with a sigh. “You know I’m more durable than that.”
Shou flashes his friend an amused grin, extending a hand toward a shelf at the back of the room. His red-orange aura appears around his hand and stretches out with an invisible thread to encircle a beat-up cardboard box on the middle shelf, levitating it to his side.
Ritsu carefully shucks off his jacket, which is at this point destroyed beyond repair and covered in his own blood, and discards it to the side of the couch. Shou gives him a quick once-over, taking stock of his injuries. Most of them are clean cuts, inflicted by the window he’d crashed through during their unfortunate brawl. “Guess I’m still not so good at putting up barriers under pressure, huh? Even after all the training you put me through, my reflexes are still slow,” Ritsu sighs.
“It comes with years of practice and muscle memory. You’ve only had a few months to develop your powers, give it some more time,” Shou replies, reaching out a hand to turn over Ritsu’s arm and address the cuts there. Ritsu flinches as his fingers press into a particularly bad cut, earning an apologetic glance from his friend. He continues, “Things got a bit out of hand, anyway. There wasn’t supposed to be a fight, but I guess we weren’t so lucky today.” He reaches deftly for a cloth and dabs an antiseptic solution onto it, pressing it against Ritsu’s cuts. “If everything had gone as planned, we would’ve just killed ‘em all and disappeared, but one of their guys was able to see through my invisibility. Can’t tell you how, but it’s something to keep in mind for the future, I guess.”
Ritsu hisses out a pained breath as the cloth comes into contact with his open wounds, clenching his hand into a fist. Shou continues as though he hadn’t moved at all, and he might have been afraid of coming across apathetic if he isn’t aware of how well Ritsu knows him. “God, that stings. I keep thinking I’ll be used to it next time, but that never happens,” Ritsu grunts, gripping the arm of the chair tightly beside him.
Shou huffs out a short laugh. “Yeah, it never really gets any better, even after years of fighting,” he agrees, gently wiping away the blood that had seeped from Ritsu’s cuts and stained his skin bright red. “Look on the bright side, though: Once these are all healed up in a few days, you’ll have some more badass battle scars to show off!” He flashes Ritsu another lopsided grin, trying to lighten the mood.
“Ah, yeah, I guess espers do heal pretty fast, don’t we?” Ritsu murmurs in response as Shou wraps his arm in clean white bandages, though he doesn’t sound nearly as excited about the scars as Shou does. He already has plenty, after all. He opens and closes his hand experimentally. “My brother’s gonna have a fit when he sees them.”
“It’s one of the perks,” says Shou, moving up to Ritsu’s face now. “You went out shoulder-first, though, so luckily the damage was contained to mostly one arm.” He dabs away a trail of blood that had run down his neck and soaked into the collar of his black shirt, leaving a dark stain behind. “How’re your powers treating you? Feel any better about using them?”
Ritsu hums, closing his eyes for a moment as Shou wipes the cloth over a cut on his forehead. He doesn’t answer right away, and Shou doesn't press him to hurry up. “It still takes me way longer than you to do anything,” he says at last, letting his eyes blink open as Shou moves to push Ritsu’s shaggy hair out of his face with one hand, “but I think I’m getting better at controlling them. I’m still nowhere near as strong as that first night, though. It’s taken a lot of work to get to where I am now.”
Shou nods, pleased. Any progress is good progress, in his eyes. “Well, of course you’re not as good as I am, I’ve had these powers for years,” he replies, tone coming off cocky. “Even though Claw forced them on us, they’re still a part of us, and always have been. Not to mention, they’re good reminders to keep us focused on what we’re fighting against.”
“I could never forget, anyway,” Ritsu says back, voice quiet and grim.
Shou smiles at him, sympathetic, and lets his hand linger on Ritsu’s cheek a moment after he’s removed the cloth from his face. Then he pulls a bandaid out of the box and unwraps it, covering a small but persistently bleeding cut on Ritsu’s forehead. “Yeah, me neither. Still, I am grateful to them for bringing me such a strong and dependable ally. I’ve got Ootsuki and the rest, but they don’t know Claw as intimately as we do. Plus, you’re way smarter than they are.”
Ritsu cracks a small smile at this, and Shou takes it as a victory. Ritsu isn’t nearly as comfortable expressing his thoughts and memories as Shou is, so he sometimes finds himself guessing what words will work as a form of comfort in what situation. “Don’t thank me yet, we haven’t finished what we started,” Ritsu reminds him.
Shou pats his knee to show he’s heard, dropping the stained cloth into a trash can beside the couch. “We’ve come a long way these last few months. Especially you. You’ve changed a lot since the night I found you,” he comments, voice edging on fond.
Ritsu hums, glancing down at his bandaged hand with eyes that stare at something far away from where they are now. It’s not unusual for Ritsu to space out like this, but Shou can’t find himself getting used to the way his gaze fogs over and he falls deathly still and quiet, his soft breathing the only thing rooting him to the living world. He can only imagine what kinds of memories he sinks into when he falls into these moods, if he thinks of anything at all. Ritsu’s unwilling to parse the details of his kidnapping and captivity, subsequent torture, or anything else he experienced in Claw’s awakening lab, and Shou doesn’t want to pry too far, as curious as he is to compare his own experiences against another survivor.
He gives Ritsu a few minutes, moving to address the glass cuts on the bottom of his one bare foot. He’d lost his shoe when the Claw esper had thrown him through the window, and the broken glass had been quick to bite into the soft flesh of his sole. Shou suspects his shoe is probably still back in the base, no one left alive inside to take it for themself. Perhaps Ritsu would be able to retrieve it later, when they inevitably went back to blow the place up entirely. It wouldn’t do to leave it vacant and let Claw send more of their scientists to start work back up again, after all. Shou gently covers his injuries in the same white bandages that now litter Ritsu’s body. The dark-haired boy doesn’t flinch, or acknowledge his existence at all. It’s more than an little worrying when Ritsu falls into trances like this. Once he’s finished bandaging Ritsu’s foot, he decides to break the spell. “Ritsu,” he says, soft and careful.
Ritsu blinks when he hears his name called, knocked out of his reverie by Shou’s curious voice. He’s frozen for a moment, and his eyes dart back and forth as he reorients himself in the present moment. “Sorry, I spaced for a bit there,” he murmurs, reaching up with one hand to push his bangs away from his face. He stares down at his lap, dark lashes hiding his half-lidded eyes. “Did you finish?”
Shou raises an eyebrow at him, faintly amused, and hopes it covers the concern he feels underneath. “Yeah, you’re all good. It’s your turn to do me now,” he says, gesturing to his own bedraggled appearance. He’s not nearly as bad off as Ritsu is, but his hands are cut up and there’s a gash on the back of one of his calves. “What were you thinking about?”
Ritsu lets out a breath, pushing himself to his feet and swapping places with Shou. He doesn’t meet Shou’s gaze, eager to do something with his hands. “Just… stuff,” he replies, and it’s a terrible way to cover up the fact that he’d spiraled into a realm of unpleasant memories.
“Mmhmm, sure,” Shou replies, not convinced in the slightest. He hesitates, wanting to confirm his own suspicions but still conscious of the fact that Ritsu has boundaries that Shou doesn’t, and his traumatic memories are one of the things he doesn’t really talk about. He bites his lip, debating back and forth for a moment before he finally decides to just rip the metaphorical bandaid off. “You were thinking about the night I found you, right?” he asks.
Ritsu freezes for a split-second, not long enough to be noticeable unless you’re really paying attention, like Shou is. Busted. Ritsu chuckles dryly, but there’s no humor in it, and he doesn’t smile, just copies Shou’s earlier actions of wetting a clean cloth with the disinfectant liquid so he can return the favor. Shou rolls up the leg of his pants, granting access to the cut underneath, and doesn't say anything else. He knows that if Ritsu doesn’t want to talk about it, he won’t.
“It happens sometimes. My memories of that night are… foggy,” Ritsu says after a moment, his words carefully chosen. “I remember being locked in this weird pod, and I remember you picking me up in the forest, but in between that it’s just kinda… hazy.” He presses the cloth against Shou’s leg, and Shou squirms, grimacing at the sharp sting that shoots up his calf. Ritsu grasps his ankle with one hand, holding him steady. “Don’t move,” he chastises.
Shou grunts, trying to take his mind off the stinging by focusing on Ritsu’s words. “I’m not surprised. You were exhausted to the point where you could barely stay standing. You’d lost a lot of blood, too, from whatever torture they put you through.” He shakes his head, clenching his teeth at the memory. “I still can’t believe they got those machines to work on someone with your kind of power. Before you, I was the only one.” He huffs out a bitter laugh, glancing away. “The great son of the leader of Claw, the first successful attempt at forcibly awakening a person’s latent psychic power. Can’t say if it was worth the cost, though.”
Ritsu frowns at this, Shou notices, as he tightly bandages his injured calf to keep it from bleeding any further. Shou’s not shy about talking about his own experiences in Claw’s awakening labs, and he bears plenty of scars from his time there, whether it's the singed skin on his back and arms or the thin lines that litter his torso and legs. Memories that will never disappear, etched for eternity into his flesh. He shows his scars proudly. They’re evidence of his ability to survive, to overcome. He takes great pride in recounting the stories of how they got there, stories he embellishes with all the flourish and drama he can muster.
Ritsu isn’t like that, though. He hides his insecurities behind carefully-crafted layers, like the psychic barrier he uses to protect himself from corporeal harm. Going through one would only reveal another, and then another, too many for any one person to break through by force. He covers his scars with gloves and long-sleeved jackets, even in the searing summer heat, even though Shou has seen them all and knows most of the stories behind them.
Ritsu swallows, clearly uncomfortable. He never had enjoyed when Shou brought up his father. “I remember being on the ground when my powers came to me,” he says, and Shou tries to hide his surprise. He’s avoided speaking about anything regarding the awakening lab in the past, unsure if he was ready to face what happened. Perhaps it was just an easier topic than trying to parse Shou’s family trauma. “They’d been torturing me nonstop for two days, trying to get me to break, to force my psychic powers to awaken and protect me. It worked.” He pauses, swallowing thickly. “Shou… back when you found me, the night I broke out of that place, you killed two scientists.”
Shou’s breathing stutters in his chest. He remembers it well, the way he’d shot them to death to keep them away from Ritsu. “Yeah, I did,” he replies, uncertain why Ritsu would bring it up now, a month later.
“You’ve killed a lot of people,” Ritsu continues, eyes still diligently focused on the task at hand.
Shou tenses up. Where is he going with this? “Yeah, I have.”
Ritsu just nods, falling quiet for a moment, as though this isn’t a revelation to him. Shou supposes it probably isn’t. Ritsu isn’t stupid, after all, and he’s see the way Shou handles a gun. Not to mention all the Claw bases they’d demolished in their short partnership.
“I think,” Ritsu begins, wiping away the blood that clings to Shou’s calf and ankle, “that I also killed a lot of people, when I lost control of my power.” He speaks slowly, choosing his words with care. “I don’t remember the details, but I know that some of the people in that lab tried to stop me. It was like I wasn’t even in control of my own body, but I still remember doing it, faintly.” Then, quietly, he adds, “I didn’t want to kill them.”
Shou hums as he listens to Ritsu speak. “You were only protecting yourself,” he says with a frown. “Besides, they deserved what was coming to them. It’s their own fault for getting involved with Claw to begin with.”
“How can you say that so easily?” Ritsu asks, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Sure, they were members of Claw, and the stuff they did was terrible. I’m not saying it wasn’t, but they… they were still people, in the end.”
Shou’s frown deepens. “So what?” he snaps, harsher and angrier than he intends. His shoulders lift subconsciously, and he feels suddenly defensive. “They hurt us, Ritsu, really badly. That kind of damage can’t be healed by time or therapy or counseling. It’ll never go away, not ever.” He crosses his arms, drawing into himself when he would normally sit with open posture. “They broke us in a way that can’t be fixed, so I think it’s justified if we break them back. Compared to what they did to us, killing them is mercy.” He scoffs, looking away. “Anyway, it’s not like it matters anymore. They’re already dead, so there’s nothing left to talk about.”
Ritsu doesn’t answer, lips turning down in a disapproving frown. Shou notices belatedly that his hands are shaking. The sight of it sends a little shock of regret down his spine: he hadn’t meant to get defensive. In the four months they’ve stayed together, they haven’t butted heads very often, and the times they did were usually over things so small and trivial that they really didn’t matter in the end.
“Like I said, you were protecting yourself,” Shou mumbles, attempting to backpedal. “That must have been why you were so tired when you finally made it up the hill. Once everything was said and done you could hardly keep yourself standing. Adrenaline, probably.” He feels silly, like he’s rambling, but he’s desperate to change the subject now. “I basically had to carry you to the car, and you fell right asleep as soon as I told you to. Higashio hit a pothole halfway back, but you didn’t even react. You did end up leaning on my shoulder, though, somehow,” Shou says as Ritsu’s finishing up cleaning a cut on the side of his neck. “You slept the whole way back. I was pretty impressed. I had to levitate you all the way to the bed, ‘cause you wouldn’t wake up.”
Ritsu flushes pink as Shou speaks, setting aside the rag and grabbing a long band-aid from the box. His hands stop shaking.
Shou’s surprised to see Ritsu blush, and he can’t help the grin that comes to his face as the sour mood seems to lift a little. “Oh? Are you embarrassed? What’s wrong, Ritsu, you lean on me all the time now!” he teases, grateful for the chance to talk about something less heavy. Teasing is easy, even if the implications of their earlier conversation still hang thick in the air.
“Oh, shut up,” Ritsu retorts, but Shou’s teasing only makes his blush darken. It brings Shou a giddy kind of satisfaction to see Ritsu loosen up a little like this. Ritsu continues, “I don’t remember ever getting in the car. Guess my mind was too overloaded.”
“Trauma can do that to a person,” Shou agrees casually, leaning back on the couch as Ritsu finishes his work. “There’s a ton of stuff I blocked out of my memory growing up.”
Ritsu sighs, sitting up and taking a seat on the couch next to Shou. “That’s not a good thing,” he points out, fixing his dark gray gaze on Shou with a frown. “How do you even know that if you don’t remember what you’ve forgotten?”
“Well, it’s like you said. I remember what happened before and after, but my memory just kinda leaps forward in time. There’s an empty space that I know is there because it doesn’t make sense otherwise, but no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to figure out the missing pieces,” Shou explains with a wave of his hand. “They’re not important memories, though. I can live without them.”
Ritsu just stares at him with that same look, wordlessly telling him that his experience isn’t normal or desirable, as though he doesn’t already know.
Shou gulps, glancing away. Ritsu always has been pretty good at seeing right through him. “You know what they say, ignorance is bliss,” he says, though his words are lacking his usual confidence all of a sudden. Clearing his throat, he shifts in his seat, restless. “Er, was there anything else you wanted me to tell you? I don’t mind, you can ask me whatever you like.”
Ritsu shakes his head. “Ah, that’s okay, thanks. I remember everything that happened afterward,” he replies, but it’s clear to Shou that there’s something there, sitting on the tip of his tongue, barely held back by Ritsu’s unwillingness to step out of his comfort zone.
It’s been four months since they’d first partnered up, and Shou has grown somewhat accustomed to the little habits Ritsu uses to subtly express his emotions, like the way he avoids eye contact when he’s feeling vulnerable, or how he’ll fidget when he’s nervous or contemplative. Right now, he’s doing the former, eyes looking anywhere but at Shou as he piles the first aid equipment back into the box in preparation to store it again.
Shou stands and snaps the box up with his hands before Ritsu can, folding it shut and crossing the few steps over to the shelf at the other end of the room. “If you have something else to ask, you should just ask it,” he says. He doesn’t look back at Ritsu, if only because he knows his friend is less likely to ask if he feels like he’s being stared at.
Ritsu chuckles softly at this, leaning back in his seat. “I’m never going to be able to sneak one past you, am I?” he says.
Shou just shrugs, sliding the box into its place on the middle shelf. “I guess you could say I’ve gotten pretty good at reading you,” he replies, though it’s only somewhat true. Much of Ritsu’s mannerisms and habits are still a mystery to him, especially the ones that stem from his experiences with Claw. “So, what’s on your mind? You know you can talk to me, right?”
“I know,” Ritsu says without hesitation, and it puts some of Shou’s doubts to rest. He takes an audible breath, then asks, “When am I going to be able to see my brother? It’s been four months. He probably thinks I’m still missing, if he doesn’t think I’m dead. I want him to know that I’m safe.”
Shou pauses, his hands hovering on the box’s cut-out handles. For a long, silent moment, he just stands there, hands held in front of him. Then, he turns and walks over to where Ritsu is sitting, crouching in front of him and offering him a rehearsed smile. It’s meant to be reassuring, but Shou’s never been very good at that. “You’ll be able to see him soon, I promise,” he says.
Ritsu must pick up on his false persona, because his eyes narrow, and his lips turn down in a frown. Shou knows immediately that he’s fucked up. Ritsu’s glare is dark and biting, sending a shiver down his spine. Shou forgets sometimes how terrifying Ritsu can be, until that anger is turned on him instead of an enemy.
Ritsu stands up hastily, hands bunching into fists at his sides. “Don’t make me a promise you don’t intend to keep,” he snaps, tone harsh and angry.
Shou flinches, already regretful.
Ritsu pushes his way past him and disappears around a corner, and Shou hears the door of his room close behind him with finality.
Shou lets out a soft groan, leaning his forehead on the couch cushion in defeat. He hadn’t meant it like that. He really does have plans to let Ritsu talk to Shigeo, just… not yet. It’s still dangerous, there’s still a chance that Claw could realize their mistake in mixing them up and go after Shigeo instead, and he really doesn’t want Ritsu’s interference to be the reason Shigeo ends up in the same situation the two of them are in now. He knows that being away from his brother is the thing that Ritsu finds the most undesirable about their arrangement, but he just can’t think of a way for the two of them to meet without jeopardizing one or both of them in the process. Ritsu is too important to their mission, too important to him, to risk him falling into Claw’s grip again.
You’re so selfish, he berates himself, clenching his hands into fists. Ritsu isn’t your pawn, you can’t control him.
Shou has never been one to stifle or repress his own feelings and emotions, and because of this, he can’t deny that he cares for Ritsu in a very personal way. It extends beyond the bounds of their self-determined mission, morphing into a feeling that’s a bit deeper and more potent than he’s willing to delve into with the way things are. He frowns. These are dangerous feelings, distracting and unappreciated. If he lets them run wild without putting a cap on them, he’ll end up doing something he regrets. He can’t afford to let such things interfere with the goal he’s worked toward for more than three years now, so he recognizes them, acknowledges them, buries them. There’s no place for such wants here.
I should apologize, he thinks, pushing himself to his feet slowly. He owes Ritsu an explanation, needs to repair what he’s broken with his careless words. He hopes that Ritsu’s cooled off enough to let him.
He walks to the door in silence, footsteps light, treading on his toes before his heels so his steps don’t echo. It’s a habit he’s picked up from years of sneaking around enemy bases and sabotaging them from the inside. He pauses just outside, listening, but there’s no noise on the other side of the door. He reaches out tentatively, gives the door a little knock with the back of his hand. If Ritsu doesn’t want him there, he won’t answer, and Shou will leave as though he’d never knocked at all.
Luckily for him, Ritsu isn’t so angry that he’s forcing Shou away. “What do you want?” comes his muffled voice, his words ice-cold. It’s an invitation. A harsh one, sure, but it’s better than being outright ignored.
“Can I come in?” Shou asks.
“You can do what you want,” Ritsu replies dismissively. His words are biting, lined with sharp thorns, but Shou can read the quiet consent within them.
Shou lets out a breath he hasn’t realized he’s been holding, cracking the door open and stepping inside. Ritsu’s laying on the dingy bed on his side, facing the wall, and he refuses to look up as Shou enters. Shou can see the angry pout on his lip from across the room, and he might have found it cute if he hadn’t been its target.
He hesitates in the doorway, then moves to the far wall and grabs the folding chair set up in the corner, dragging it over by the bed. He leaves a respectable distance between them as he sits down, clasping his hands in front of him. “I’m sorry,” he says, never one to beat around the bush. “You will see your brother again, I just don’t know if it’s safe yet.”
“You never do,” Ritsu sighs in reply, and it’ll be a lie if Shou says it doesn’t sting. Ritsu shifts onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. His shaggy black bangs flop to the side, showing his forehead. “I know you’re just trying to protect me, but I’m getting restless. My brother’s out there, somewhere, wondering where I am, and I can’t even get a message to him to let him know that I’m even alive. I’m frustrated, and frankly, I’m running out of patience. We’ve been at this for months, and that’s just in the time I’ve been here. You’ve been fighting for over three years, but it feels like nothing’s changed.”
Ritsu’s expressing his feelings, a rare occurrence, but Shou can’t bring himself to appreciate the effort. His heart drops, a ball of worry and anxiety forming deep in his stomach. “Things have changed, though. The number of Claw bases is going down all the time. My father is on his last nerve, I can feel it-”
“How much longer is this going to take, Shou?” Ritsu demands, sitting up and meeting Shou’s gaze for the first time. “Another month? Six months? A year? I don’t… I don’t know if I can go that long without contacting Shigeo, at least.” He crosses his legs on the bed, gaze turning to stare down at his lap, angry, persistent.
Shou’s mouth goes dry, and he feels a rare stab of guilt in his chest. “I don’t know,” he admits, voice soft, and he lets it reflect his feelings of vulnerability and insecurity, if only for a moment. “I feel like it won’t be much longer, but I can’t tell you for sure. I don’t know how much more it’ll take.” He rests his elbows on his knees and lets his face fall into his hands. He swallows, his words heavy on his tongue. “If you’re having second thoughts, it’s okay. I’m not gonna make you stick around, after all. You can go back home whenever you want. I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he admits after a moment of contemplation.
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he feels a wave of dread come over him. He doesn’t want Ritsu to leave. He wants him to stay his partner, wants them to trust each other. He wants Ritsu to be there when he finally shoves it in his dad’s face that he was wrong all along about world domination, but he can’t make him go along with it if he doesn’t want to.
Ritsu turns to him with wide eyes, momentarily shocked into silence, then his expression softens some and he says, “I’m not gonna leave, Shou.”
Shou looks up, catching Ritsu’s gray-eyed gaze for a moment before his friend looks away again. Ritsu fiddles with the edge of his sleeve, agitated. “I just… really miss my brother. I don’t want him to worry about me the way I worry about him.” He runs his fingers over the scars on one hand, marks and lines that Shou knows intimately, because he’d tended them when they were fresh. Ritsu runs his fingers over them, and says, “You’re my best friend, Shou, my partner, and I’m not going to abandon you. My brother is going to need me, but you need me, too. I’ll just have to come up with a safe way to contact him without alerting Claw, that’s all.”
Shou can’t help but let out a laugh, breathy and relieved, and the tension he’s been feeling melts away a little. “Yeah, alright. If anyone can figure it out, you can,” he says. It comes across a bit fonder than he intends, but there’s nothing he can do about it once it’s left his mouth. “Thanks for sticking by me, Ritsu. I know I’m not a very good friend, and I kinda suck at relationships in general, but it really means a lot that you have my back,” he adds, genuinely happy that Ritsu won’t be going away after all.
Shou catches the beginning of a blush on Ritsu’s cheeks as he glances away, hiding his face from Shou in a familiar way. “Don’t thank me yet,” he reminds him with a little smile. Shou knows he’s been forgiven.
Ritsu opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, there’s a knock on the door. “Come in,” he says instead, turning toward the door.
Higashio opens the door, stepping into the threshold. “We’ve located a Claw base about thirty miles outside Seasoning City,” he says, all business. “We’ve confirmed its location after following an unmarked vehicle there. We’re ready to strike at any time, leader.”
Shou and Ritsu exchange a knowing look. There’s really no debating it. Shou turns back to Higashio and grins, feeling a familiar anticipation building up in him. He stands up, and Ritsu follows at his side.
“Let’s not waste time, then.”
#mob psycho 100#mp100#ritshou#kageyama ritsu#suzuki shou#fanfiction#mp100 fanfic#guns#torture#dissociation#blood#casual murder#serendipitousfics
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