#i know not everyone is keen right now on listening to the moral issues of american voters | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oikawasass · 4 years

Note

Oh boy I saw boyfriend hc with Iida, so would it be okay to ask for hc for Bakugo, Midoriya and Todoroki as boyfriends? 💞

general relationship headcanons.

‣ pairing : bakugo, todoroki, midoriya x fem reader. (separate)

‣ headcanons.

‣ warnings : swearing, nsfw topics.

Bakugo Katsuki.

bakugo would be an amazing boyfriend and you cannot convince me otherwise.

things are never boring with this mf.

everyone knows bakugo wouldn’t date someone if he didn’t truly have a strong attraction to them or if he didn’t really know them, so right off the bat, there’s quite a bit of trust in your relationship.

fighting :

arguments are a given in a relationship with bakugo, so be prepared to scuffle.

and be prepared for those scuffles to turn into lots of screaming and yelling.

bakugo doesn’t like to fight or argue with you, he doesn’t enjoy it one bit. it’s just… bakugo.

he isn’t one to instantly go and apologize right away once he feels bad or realizes he may have been in the wrong, but after some stubbornness and ignoring, he’ll try to bring himself to some kind of an apology, or try to find some kind of a way to make amends, so be patient with him pls.

gifts :

when it comes to gifts, bakugo isn’t a huge gift giver. he isn’t the type to just buy you something if it reminded him of you.

plus you already have him so what other gifts could you need.

but he will buy you nice things on important events. birthdays, holidays, anniversaries and such. he bought you matching promise rings on your one year.

“tch, dont look so happy. this is just a place holder till I get to put a real ring on your finger.”

and you teased him about him saying something so soft to no end.

dates :

you two don’t do the whole fancy uptight dates thing.

movie nights, late-night park walks and study/workout dates are the move for you two.

if you’re not actually going anywhere, then you just like to sit in either of your dorms and cuddle and talk about whatever random topics come to mind. expect lots of play fighting too.

cuddling / physical attention :

cuddling? bakugo touch-starved-baby katsuki is his name.

early into your relationship, he won’t be too keen on being clingy or super cuddly as he’s too tsundere and a teeny bit awkward.

but once you’ve hit that comfortable mark of a few weeks or a month, he will be on that shit.

growing up without very much sweetness or softness showed towards him, once he’d experienced it with you, he was addicted.

big spoon or die. except for when he’s sleepy.

he’s the type of boyfriend that when you guys are just chilling in your dorm, he’ll just

smack your ass, grab your ass, appreciate from afar (rarely,) pat it and play the drums on it.

he’s just an ass man.

not much pda, but he’s always got your hand held tightly in his or an arm around you while you walk through the halls.

kissing :

he love love loves to kiss your lips. somethin’ about your soft and plush ones up against his own just makes his heart feel a certain tenderness.

kiss his cheeks or nose in public and watch how red his face goes. then watch him pout about it and ignore your requests for smooches for a little until he starts wanting them too.

long and heated make-outs with you straddling his lap are his favourite.

sexual aspects :

you two most likely won’t wait until you’re older to be sexual, as long as you’re okay with it then so is katsuki.

but he’ll wait until you’re ready for anything like that, he doesn’t want to force you into anything. he most likely won’t be ready himself until at least 7 or so months into the relationship.

it comes down mostly to his quirk and him not wanting to hurt you.

but once you two have had your first time, expect many more. I imagine katsuki has quite the high libido.

Todoroki Shoto.

you two would have such a sweet relationship.

he grew up without feeling very loved or cherished, and you were the first to ever show him such feelings and emotions.

it takes him a while to learn to properly embrace or accept them? but once he does, all is lovely.

you’d have to really… impress todoroki for him to catch some kind of feelings for you. not strength or looks wise, but with your personality. so there’s hardly doubt when it comes to shoto’s adoration for you.

fighting :

fights with shoto don’t happen often. and when they do, they aren’t super nasty or loud. I can imagine they’d only happen over large disagreements or worries between you two.

when the fights are bigger, he’ll take some time to give the both of you a chance to cool down, and then try his best an apology.

he doesn’t like to fight at all. it makes some bad childhood memories resurface for him as expected, so you both try your best to avoid it. alas, it’s inevitable in relationships, unfortunately. but you two manage surprisingly well.

gifts :

will genuinely buy you the whole world if you pout enough. he cannot resist a pout.

he constantly buys you sweet little gifts! which were probably way too expensive, but it’s not his credit card anyway right?

if he sees something he thinks you would enjoy or that reminds him of you, cha ching $$ there’s more money out of endeavor’s bank account. you deserve anything and everything that will make you smile!

dates :

similar to bakugo, I feel as if you two wouldn’t do the whole fancy dates thing. unless you want to! then he’s all for it.

but you two much prefer to go to cafe’s or smaller, cuter and less populated restaurants. gotta maintain the cute couple aesthetic.

coffee and tea dates! library dates! park dates! sightseeing! allat cute jazz you see people on the gram do and go “aw i wish.”

cuddling / physical affection :

he loves to cuddle you. having you peacefully and safely wrapped up in his arms is his favourite activity, he wouldn’t give it for the world.

it took him a little bit to get to the point of seeking your arms for comfort or becoming touch starved when he hasn’t seen or hugged you in a little bit, but he got there pretty quick.

could cuddle you and listen to you ramble about your interests and views for hours. he loves the sound of your voice calmly filling his ears.

I imagine once you get to a certain point in your relationship, he can be a pretty silly boyfriend. so expect random butt pats and smacks at random times when you’re alone.

kissing :

todoroki loves to kiss your forehead. it’s such a sweet, yet almost protective action. not to mention the way your cheeks turn pink when he does it makes his heart flutter.

you are baby in his eyes. so expect lots and lots of forehead and top of your head kisses.

but he loves to kiss your lips just as much! sweet kisses and soft make outs™

shoto isn’t a huge pda person, but if you enjoy it then hes totally down. he’ll give you sweet kisses and hold you hand everywhere you go.

sexual aspects :

I imagine you two would most likely wait until you were older, but only your second or third year.

it just comes down to you both making sure you’re ready, and i see that being after you two have been together for at least a year and a half. sorry thirsty shoto stans.

I dont imagine him being a very sexual person either, so waiting isn’t a problem for him.

Midoriya Izuku.

my ANGEL. my small tiny angel. god he would be such an adorable and sweet boyfriend and you can’t deny.

he’s just so?? infatuated with you?? you’re so incredible to him?? he adores everything about you.

you never have to doubt izuku’s intentions or morals and you rarely feel insecure about this relationship. he makes sure to let you know how much he cherishes you.

fighting :

a rarity. he absolutely hates to fight with you, and he’s sure that it ends up physically hurting him when you argue. he feels his precious little heart crack.

only happens when there’s big disagreements or issues that get addressed. if you made a reckless decision that got you hurt during a fight, expect him to be upset.

he just worries about you and prioritizes your well being, so be patient with him.

100% will be the first to apologize almost every time, but not without some silent treatment coming from both sides. you both just need time to cool off and gather your thoughts, and he knows that.

gifts :

the sweetest gift giver!

he loves the reaction he gets when he buys you flowers and cute stuffed animals for no particular reason.

on aniversaries he buys you beautiful bracelets and necklaces, he got you guys promise rings for your one year too!

dates :

once more…no super fancy dates or anything. he’ll spoil you in other ways! mainly cause he doesn’t think he could sit still in a formal setting with you without being a blushing mess.

you two love to go for walks down town, window shopping and stopping in certain stores, grabbing coffee and such.

if it’s the fall or winter and you go out, are you sure you aren’t cold? you can have his jacket. and his scarf. and his hat. no just take them, he doesn’t want you to get sick. just take the damn scarf.

or just going by random food stands in town! ramen, sushi, katsudon, you’ve gotten it all. don’t be surprised of mido has a little notebook of food stand ratings.

cuddling / physical affection :

okay it took him a little longer than expected to comfortably cuddle and kiss you without his face going beat red or his shoulders tensing up.

it’s not like he doesn’t enjoy it! he’s just very very shy and you’re very very cute.

he still blushes and gets shy at affection, but he’s able to ignore it by now. he realized that he enjoyed hugging your waist and burrying his head in your soft locks way more than getting shy and being distant.

pda… he tries. he wants to be able to kiss you and your adorable face in public but he’s a shy baby. so the most you’ll do is link pinkies when you walk down the halls and kiss his cheeks between classes.

kissing :

he loves. LOVES. to kiss your cheeks. he’ll place the sweetest most chaste kisses on your cheeks all the time.

when he’s feeling extra bold he’ll pepper them in small and quick little smooches.

loves to kiss your lips, but he can’t for too long or his face is literally red hot and he starts to overheat …

took you a little longer than most to get to the making out stage, and even now they’re still very short and sweet.

sexual aspects :

100% will wait until you’re both older to even try to be sexual. it’s just not very present in the boys mind until you age a bit more.

I mean it took him over two months to be able to casually kiss you without dying, imagine what would happen if he tried bringing his mini mido anywhere near you before he was sure he could do it.

switch.

midoriya isn’t a very sexual person in general, so it most likely won’t be a huge aspect in your relationship anyway, which you’re both fine with because you love eachother in other ways.

408 notes · View notes

radioactive-synth · 4 years

Photo

#FOOCtober2020 - Oct 19 - Defining Moment OR Faint

a day late but here we go, a small part from the fic i need to write about my oc Vaughn Zander

under read more:

'I don't think it's worth all the trouble for just some memory banks', Nick said, surveilling the area.

They were above the cave where the old submarine resides. DiMA suggested either sneaking in or joining the Children of Atom. Vaughn was not keen to join in, and Nick knows too well that his lover is too clumsy to sneak.

'Come on, Nick. You know we need to find out more about DiMA's plans. We just need to sneak in and-'

'Remind me last time you successfully sneaked somewhere, doll', Nick said, turning to look at his partner.

Vaughn let out a sigh and turned to look Nick in his eyes.

Yes, he was right. He was never good at sneaking. Be it in a dangerous zone, or even in their own house, he always trips over something and alerts everyone in the area.

'Don't give me that look, I'm sure this time I can do it.'

'Famous last words.'

Vaughn elbowed Nick into his shoulder.

'If you are done, let us figure it out how to get in', Vaughn said, getting a bit closer to the edge.

Down there, there were three armored people, weapons in hands, and two other people, in rags. They can't make it out what they are talking about, but it doesn't seem like a friendly meeting.

'We just wait until they are gone and th-'

Vaughn felt his left leg giving up, and slipped from the edge, landing on the platform underneath. He landed on his left side.

‘Vaughn! I’m coming!’, he heard Nick saying.

Vaughn groaned in pain, and lifted himself on his knees, and put his right hand over his left arm.

'Fuck me… I will feel this tomorrow morning', he murmured. Why does it seem that his left side is the most unlucky? Scars, bruises, even his leg was shot.

'WHO IS THERE? SHOW YOUR FACE', a man's voice is commanding.

So much for sneaking.

Vaughn reached into his waist bag and pulled out a stimpack, and implanted the needle in the left arm. It should soothe the pain for a while. He looked up, but Nick is not anywhere to be seen. Is he on his way?

'I said, reveal yourself, stranger,' the voice insisted.

'I'm coming', Vaughn said, descending the stairs.

One of the armored ones has told the other two in the rags to come with them, as the other two focused on Vaughn. One of them spoke:

‘What are you doing here?’, he asked, getting a few steps closer, ‘Did Far Harbor send you?’

‘N-no… umm, I umm… we came here on our own’, Vaughn said, unsure on what to answer.

‘We?’

‘My partner should umm… arrive in a bit’, he said, looking behind. No sign of Nick yet. ‘But what is the issue with the people of Far Harbor?’

The armored man looked at him in suspicion, but spoke: ‘Those heathens persecute our missionaries and use profane technology to steal lands that belong rightfully to the Atom. And I want to know if you are here to do their bidding… you are your imaginary partner’, he said, gripping on his weapon even more.

Vaughn felt how the panic overtook him any moment. He has no other solution but to convince them that he wants to join in.

‘Vaughn!’

He turned behind, and Nick came running to him, his pipe revolver in his hand. He made a sign to lower his weapon and to come next to him.

‘So I see that you weren’t lying about a partner. Looks alike with that damn synth from the mountain. Are you sure you aren’t from there too?’, the armored man asked, eyeing Nick.

‘What are you doin-’

‘Just trust me’, Vaughn whispered, taking Nick’s hand.

‘No. We came from the Commonwealth. We want to join the Children of Atom’, Vaughn said.

He felt how Nick squeezed his hand, but he answered by running his thumb over his partner’s.

‘The Commonwealth? That’s quite a journey. So, you think you deserve a spot among Atom’s children?’

Nick gave a glance to Vaughn, but said nothing. He knows that Nick will give him morale later, but he needs to play their game now.

‘Yes. Sign us up.’

‘The decision on who will enter our family will be left to the Atom. Prove yourself worthy, and you may enter. You need to perform a ritual first.’

‘Sure.’

‘There is a small spring not far from here. Those chosen by Atom drink and are granted something. A token. An experience. Those not chosen… rarely return.’

Vaughn glanced at Nick. He knows that look: ‘You better know what you are doing.’

‘We will do what Atom requires.’

‘Then let us hope He deems you fit. Go to the spring there’, the armored man pointed out, ‘drink, come back, then we will discuss joining us. Also, consider to give up of that mask.’

-----

'Look, I don't think you should drink from the spring. Just say whatever you think off, and pray that we are let in', Nick said, looking at the running water with an unnatural yellowish color.

'Praying is not what I do, feggari mou. And besides, how much rad-x I took, it should not affect me at all', Vaughn said in a confident tone.

'Had you forgot the old man's warning? The fog can play tricks on your mind', Nick said, the words of Longfellow still ringing in his head.

'Yea but I don't think I saw anyone on this island taking rad-x… or even hearing about it. Nicky, my love, you know I'm a doctor. I will be fine!', Vaughn said, putting his arm around Nick's shoulders.

Nick let out a sigh, and looked at him. 'For a doctor, you sure don't think of the danger you are putting yourself into.'

Vaughn let out a chuckle. He then leaned in to kiss Nick on his cheek. 'I got you if I get hurt. I taught you well, didn't I?', Vaughn said with a warm smile on his face.

'Yes. And you make a very grumpy patient.'

'Yea yea, Vinnie used to say that doctors made the worst patients. I still don't know what he meant.'

'We sure do', Nick said with a huff.

Vaughn gave him a short glance to his love, then looked at the spring.

'Well, not like that will drink itself', he said, letting go of Nick's shoulders. He put his hand over the running water. It was clearly not pure at all, and he felt it unnaturally warm, even underneath his glove. He looked back to Nick. 'Cheers', he said before taking a sip from the water.

The taste was the worst that he ever felt. It felt like rust, copper, expired medicine, all at once. He started to cough violently, his vision being blurred. He heard Nick's voice, but he can't make it out what he said.

'FOLLOOOW MEEEE', he heard a woman's voice, gravelly, yet very soothing.

Looking up, he saw a figure in the shadow. The voice seemed so familiar, yet very scary. But the figure… it also seemed familiar.

'Maná?', he asked.

But it can't be her. How can she be here? Unless…

He followed the strange figure into the woods.

'WAIT! DON'T GO! WHY ARE YOU RUNNING?', he asked the figure.

Around him, it seemed like a nightmare. The sky became a dark green, with lighting coloring the clouds, and strange figures appeared. Were those radstags? Horses? Big salamanders? He can't figure it out.

'This is not real!,' Vaughn said to himself, but also he doesn't seem to have control over his body. He felt his left leg aching, yet he can't stop following the figure.

-----

‘THIS IS WHAT I WANT TO ASK TOO!’, Nick yelled after Vaughn, but no use.

He was running after him for two minutes into the woods. He was amazed at how fast Vaughn can be.

‘VAUGHN!’, he kept calling his partner. God knows what can hide in these woods, and if he can’t reach Vaughn in time…

He felt his fans working faster, as to keep up cooling off his body. He does not know what is more terrifying: the fog crawlers that can appear in any moment? Any feral ghouls around? Or that his lover can collapse anytime and he can’t properly help him?

He saw Vaughn stopping on the road, looking at a nearby building. He heard him asking something, but he can’t make it what. He stopped too, trying to ‘catch a breath’. His fans were working at an alarming speed, as his internal processor notified him.

But he couldn’t rest for more than a few seconds, as Vaughn collapsed on the ground.

‘Vaughn!’, he called, and walked towards him.

He heard snarls and growling around the bushes and the rusted cars nearby.

‘No, NO! VAUGHN, GET UP!’, he yelled, falling to his knees and putting his arms around Vaughn’s shoulders, lifting him a bit.

But his efforts were in no avail, his partner was out of cold. He looked around, as the ferals started to sense them and came in their direction. He could feel how fear starts to settle in. He can’t lose Vaughn… he can’t lose the one he loves the most.

He lays Vaughn easily on the ground, and pulls out his secondary weapon, a small size modified assault rifle. The pipe revolver won’t do any good now.

----------

Vaughn woke up with a headache, and a pain in his left arm. He could feel that he is somewhere inside, given the closed air he feels. As he gains more of his senses, he can feel his back against Nick, and one of his arms around him. He looked to his right, and saw their bags, alongside ‘Ares’, his power fist, and ‘Athena’, his shield. He lets out a small sound, and moves his legs a bit.

‘Don’t move yet’, he heard Nick saying. ‘There is still rad-away in the bag, so stay put.’

Nick’s voice was unusually neutral, which surprised Vaughn a bit. What really happened? All he remembers is that he followed a shadowed figure that looked very similar as his mom. Yet the voice was not really hers.

He put a hand over Nick's arm. 'My love?', he croaked, feeling his throat dry.

'What?', answered Nick in a firm tone.

'Are you… you ok?'

'You asking me if I am ok?', Nick answered, letting out a nervous laugh. 'Do you even remember what you did?'

Vaughn didn't answer. Nick rarely was angry, but when he was… it was scary.

'I told you to not drink from that water, but have you ever listened to me? No, you just think that if you have a degree in medicine, you think of yourself invincible!', Nick's voice became louder.

Vaughn felt his heart plummeting in his chest. Nick was right. But he always felt bad when a loved one sounded disappointed in him.

'I'm so sorry', Vaughn murmured to him.

'Sorry for what? For not listening to me? For almost being ripped apart by ferals? Had you forgot you have a child at home, waiting for you? How do you want me to tell Oliver that his dad drank poison and was killed by ferals?', Nick's tone was harsher than usual.

Vaughn felt his partner's arms tighter around him, and his head into his shoulder. Vaughn responded by rubbing his free hand onto Nick's arms.

'I don't want to lose you', Nick said, his voice being muffled into his lover's shoulder.

Vaughn felt his eyes with tears.

'I finally feel that I belong somewhere. That I belong with you. I can't lose you…', Nick let out a sobbing noise. 'I love you… so much', he said, now crying into Vaughn's shoulder, his own shoulders shaking.

'My love…feggari mou… '

Vaughn straightened his back up, as best as he could, careful to not rip off the needle from his left arm, and used the other arm to pull Nick into a one-arm hug. His lover put his head into the crane of his neck, his arms being tight around him. Vaughn let out his own tears to fall on his face.

'I'm ok, my love. I'm alive, and that's… that's important', Vaughn said, running his hand over Nick's back. He seemed to calm himself down.

Nick pulled out of the hug, and Vaughn could have seen that he too had tears coming out from his eyes. Well, not exactly tears, as it seemed to be coolant, but… he never thought that Nick could cry. This broke his heart even more.

Vaughn put his hand on Nick's face, wiping away a tear.

'I'm sorry, love. You were right. And I was too stubborn. I'm so sorry', he said, leaning in to kiss Nick's cheek. It tasted like coolant.

'Just… don't put yourself in danger like that. When I saw you collapsing on the ground, with all those ferals coming…', Nick said with another sob.

'Hey, I'm here now. Thanks to you', Vaughn said with a smile. 'I told you that you know what to do if I'm hurt, right?', he let out a chuckle, and gave Nick a kiss on his lips.

Nick smiled against Vaughn's lips. 'I had a good teacher', he said before kissing Vaughn again.

#fooctober2020 #fallout oc #fallout ocs #sole survivor #sole survivor x nick valentine #nick valentine #fallout 4 #fo oc #oc vaughn zander #blue.txt #not entirely happy with the vision part but whatever

22 notes · View notes

rocket-remmy · 4 years

Text

To Be Human || Deirdre and Remmy

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @deathduty and @whatsin-yourhead SUMMARY: It’s time. CONTENT: Abuse mentions, Brief blood mention

It was time. Remmy hadn’t paced this time, but they’d stayed still in their spot in the hallway until they were sure they were ready. The unfortunate part was that they knew they were never going to be ready. It wasn’t possible. They hadn’t been ready to lose Lydia so suddenly, and they weren’t prepared to listen to Deirdre tell them whatever it was she was about to. And they had a hunch. Lydia and Deirdre were both fae, they understood each other in a way no one else could, just like how Remmy could understand Morgan in a way no one else could. And even then, Remmy wasn’t even sure they had that deep of an understanding. They might both be zombies, but they’d lived such different lives. And Morgan had had magic. Remmy couldn’t understand losing that part of themself. They had nothing. They were nothing. They had died human and woken up dead and the world hadn’t changed or suddenly become different. But, they supposed, it was through death that really began to feel the world. And it had taken some time, but they knew what part they wanted to play in it now. And they didn’t have room in their life for people like Lydia. They couldn’t afford to keep balancing between their moral lines.

And so, they walked into the living room, where Deirdre was waiting for them. They didn’t pause as they headed in, went straight over to the couch and sat beside her. “I’m going to just let you say what you need to say,” they spoke concisely, clearly, “and then I’ll say my part. And then we can...go from there. Okay?”

Deirdre was not ready. This house was a home now, not just to her and Morgan, but to the friends they harboured. She had not wanted to cast Ariana out, she did not want to chase Remmy away. But some truths demanded to be spoken, and some realities were too heavy to run from. It was Morgan she worried for, painful as it would be to lose Remmy—whom she loved—she feared the zombie might think of the other differently. Morgan needed Remmy, there was no one else who understood being dead the same way, and to stand between them was a crime Deirdre wasn’t keen on committing. Murder, torture, lies and kidnapping...but never this. She picked at the skin around her nails, wondering if there was some secret layer of kindness underneath she could unveil—just like Morgan seemed to think there was. All she got was skin and blood. “Remmy…” she breathed. She did not have the energy to do this twice, she didn’t have the energy to do it the first time. She stood from the couch, straightened herself, and began. “I would prefer you go first actually…” she sighed, “but I just...I just wanted to say that I…” she swallowed, her quivering voice unable to finish its sentences. She started and stopped and started again only to stop once more. “I have to break a promise,” she tried to explain, “after. The other thing I want to tell you, I have to break a promise to do it. And I’m not—I’m still not all better from being stabbed, and all the screams I’ve had to hold in, and the other promises I’ve broken I—I don’t know how I’ll get through that part. But I want to do it, you should know. If it would make you think differently of me, you should know.” But it wasn’t what she wanted to say first, she knew it, and she suspected Remmy knew it too. “I knew,” Deirdre breathed, “about the basement. And the humans. I knew. I’ve known for a while.” The justifications, the truths about how humans were cattle, she did not offer.

I figured, was what immediately came to mind when Remmy finally heard the words. Tears welled up in their eyes so fast and so hard they didn’t have time to stop them before they fell. It was as if they’d simply been waiting, as if their eyes already knew. Remmy clenched and unclenched hands on their knees, letting the words settle. They weren’t alarming, not like heading down those stairs and seeing Lydia do that and hearing her say those things. But they still struck themselves across Remmy’s face just as painfully. Their head throbbed. They felt their lip quiver. Deirdre knew. Of course she knew. She’d known for so long. She’d kept it from them for so long. She had sat there and comforted Remmy and let them go to Lydia for their sanctuary and she had known. Remmy scraped a hand across their eyes finally, but didn’t look up at her. Couldn’t. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” they asked quietly, their voice already wavering. For all their strengths and all their weaknesses, this was one they had never settled on. Their want, their need, to trust and love with their whole self. It had broken them and it would break them time and time again, and they had to wonder when it would ever stop, and how far they could go carrying themself this way. Or if this was what would destroy them, ultimately.

Somewhere between her lips sat the right explanation. Something poetic, and sweet, and just good enough to make everything okay. But Deirdre couldn’t find it. “Because it wasn’t my secret to tell,” she said, which was true, but she didn’t think that mattered to Remmy. “Because I didn’t—don’t see anything wrong with it.” She longed to inject the memory of Ireland in Remmy’s mind, if only they knew how poorly the fae there treated humans. If only they understood it like she did; at least Lydia wasn’t using Chloe as a footstool, didn’t that count for something? “Because she’s fae.” Because it didn’t matter to her, nothing else but the truth of their species did. She had told Remmy once that people had their places in the world; the undead as bottom-feeders, humans as fodder, fae as apex predators. She didn’t believe this anymore, she loved Morgan and Remmy far too much to degrade them with those thoughts. But the humans she hadn’t learned to love exactly the same way, and her lifetime of learned superiority would not wither over some months. “I won’t justify it. Morgan didn’t like it when I did that to her. I don’t understand why, exactly, but I won’t do it to you. The truth is just that: I knew, and I don’t find it problematic.” Her fingers twitched to wipe Remmy’s tears away. They did not need to cry anymore, they already carried so much pain. Deirdre didn’t want an ounce more for them. But there she was, delivering it in spades. “I have….there’s more. There’s more I have to tell you.”

“That’s not the kind of secret you keep,” Remmy said sharply. Maybe they just didn’t understand enough of how the supernatural world worked, but someone keeping people hostage, someone keeping humans as food wasn’t a secret that should be kept. Not to them. The next few words stabbed them bitterly and they remembered a similar pain, still too fresh. Deirdre was part of that world, the world they hated. The world that had torn them apart. Their teeth clenched. “I don’t get it,” they said finally, looking up at Deirdre with fierce eyes, “I don’t understand how you can condone torturing and killing people when anyone of them could’ve turned out like me and Morgan. Why were we the exceptions but everyone else is just food? Don’t you get that? Don’t you understand that? Just because they’re human doesn’t they’re less! Isn’t that-- isn’t that exactly what hunters say about people like you and me? How can you be--” they recoiled, shaking their head, “--I’m not a part of this world like you are, not even like Morgan is. I don’t understand, I’ll never understand. I--” they glanced up at Deirdre again, this time slower, perhaps sadder, “--I don’t want to understand.” But that wasn’t even the worst part, was it? Her small admittance at the end made Remmy shiver and suddenly their arms were shaking in a way they couldn’t control. This was it, wasn’t it? They were going to lose Deirdre, too. And maybe even Morgan because of it. They would not be the one thing that came between her and Deirdre, they just wouldn’t. “Say it, then,” they choked out, “tell me.”

Because they weren’t people to her. Because the world had a hierarchy and humans existed in that place on the bottom. Because her family said so. Because it was easier. Deirdre held her tongue, watching Remmy with wet eyes. Their anguish made her flinch. Had Morgan wanted to respond to her in this measure of anger? Was this the rage that broiled in her mind too? Did she think of her with disgust? Did Remmy? Their sad confession of confusion rang with relatability. She was just as confused, really, just in twisted mirror reflection. She didn’t understand what was so hard for Remmy and Morgan to grasp about the humans place as food, dirt, property. She gave some understanding to their once human lives but surely now they knew the truth, didn’t they? Deirdre swallowed, a sick chill twisting in her stomach. Her thoughts felt wrong, somehow, in a way they never had before. They felt insulting, and then they made her feel sick, and she couldn’t understand why. “I—“ she breathed out in a whimper, remembering that she didn’t have the time to figure out why she felt so poorly about it. It didn’t matter, anyway, soon she’d have something to feel worse about. “It’s not—you know the mentality of hunters is not what I take issue with. It’s—every creature has a place and a purpose. And every creature will serve that purpose, no matter how unfair. And me...I have a place too, things I have to do.” Her fingers curled into a tight fist, nails digging into her flesh. “I am bad, also. Like you think Lydia is. There are no humans in the basement, but that doesn’t mean I think they’re worth more than that. In fact I—“ she thought of her vows, taken at 15 against her bloody knife, bowed at her family’s altar. There were things she could not tell a non-fae about her practices, there were explanations and specifics she could not share without self-torture. But it didn’t matter, almost. This was an undressing of sorts, and Deirdre was trying to lay all of her sins bear for scrutiny. “I kill people. Sometimes kindly, sometimes not. Sometimes with reason, sometimes without. I hurt them. I kill them. That’s what I was made to do.” Her body shook, fending off pain only by the force of her will. Sweet blood coated her tongue; if she spoke again, it would only be to bleed.

Remmy had never seen such a war inside of Deirdre before. She was always so confident with what she said and how she said it, they’d nearly forgotten the small distance of their ages. They knew that her life was vastly different from theirs, that the world she lived in made her believe all of the things she said. Made her seem old and wise beyond her years, but the reality was that Deirdre was as much a child as Remmy. And it showed in the waver of her words, suddenly, and the whimper of a noise she made when she tried to explain her reasoning. Remmy felt their heart tumbling around their chest, unsure on where it might settle at the end of this. They remembered first meeting Deirdre, they remembered how angry she always made them. In the end, they’d thanked her. She was one of the reasons they’d gone to meet Lydia, after all, and found out what they were. And how to live. They remembered baking a cake with her for their stupid birthday, and then again on Moose Day. She’d always listened to everything they had to say, good or bad, and she’d never judged them for thinking the way they did. She’d given them more than perhaps even she knew, but the fallout to that was that, now, it stung just as much as a blade to the chest or the sting of Lydia’s betrayal. “That’s bullshit,” Remmy said once it was all said and done. What she was made to do? That sounded like just an excuse, just like Lydia. I was made this way, therefore it’s not my fault. But there was always a different way. There had to be. Lydia didn’t have to keep people prisoner physically. Remmy didn’t have to eat human brains. And, therefore, Deirdre didn’t have to torture and murder the people she screamed for. It made perfect sense in Remmy’s head. They just didn’t know why no one else got that. Why did people have to suffer when there was always a better way? “I don’t think you’re bad, Deirdre-- and I don’t Lydia’s bad. I think she chooses to do bad things, to hurt people, because it’s easier that way. Because she somehow thinks being not human makes her better than someone. And I don’t think that’s true. I think it just makes you...different. No one person is better than the other. How can you claim to be any better than a human when you act no differently from them? Judging others, deciding who’s more important, deciding who gets to live or die or be food. No one of us were made for anything, that’s not how the world works. It’s just-- it’s just not. I wasn’t made to kill people, Morgan wasn’t made to kill people-- and neither were you. You claim to be so much better, but in the end, you’re just…” they paused, a vile word on their tongue, “...human, too.”

Human. The word made Deirdre’s skin crawl, and somehow with it, she was able to stand up straighter. With it, she could remember every insult the fae hurled against the folly of humanity. She was not human. She would never be human. To say so was to deny the entirety of her worth. With it, she could summon back her mother from the recesses of her mind. “Don’t call me human,” she growled, suddenly far from herself. She stood in rigid posture, nose pointed up, chest puffed—displays of superiority practiced and learned. She thought of how her mother looked, how she sounded; the sharpness of her smile, the rumble of her cutting voice. Deirdre became her, as she always did when being the nothing of herself was too terrible—which was often. This, at least, was an identity she knew. “She is better because she’s not human. And she’s better than every werewolf, vampire or mara because she’s fae. And I am better too. Better than everything else.” You wouldn’t call a dog a wolf, now would you? The humans are nothing compared to us, dear. Do you feel it? Deirdre took air into her lungs, a deep breath expanded the inhuman capacity she held. She could feel a scream ready to brew, the tug of death to the bones she had upstairs. She was not human. She was not weak. Don’t be so human, dear. There’s nothing worse to be. No, she was good. She was obedient. She was strong. She was not human. Her words spat like venom, betraying only a dribble of blood from her vow breaking. “I am Fate’s devout follower; righteous. And the heathens below me have no rights to share. I can crush a rabbit if I please. I can cage a dog if I so desire. I do not care what happens to the animals, because I am not one. I will never be one. I am not the one to decide who lives, who dies and who’s food; the world has done that already. And I obey, Remmy. I obey.” Good. Know your place, dear. “The foxes catch the rabbits, the wolves feast on the deer; the fae will always rule the humans. And I: killer—am born so. I am my duty.” Deirdre had stopped speaking moments ago, now claimed by years of tradition; mouthpiece to her family. Her nervous tremble vanished, her love for Remmy snuffed against words that were not her own. “In the end, this is who I am.”

Remmy stared, and listened. Months ago, perhaps even just small weeks, they would have shrunk under the person Deirdre was seeming to become in these moments. But they had taken their time in getting to know who Deirdre really was-- and they were not afraid of her. How could they be? For someone so supposedly cold and detached and above everyone else, she’d shown them a love they’d never known before. It was unlike her love for Lydia and unlike her love for Morgan. Remmy did not give anything in return for Deirdre’s love, they were not fae, they were not her partner. She just loved them because she had no other choice once they’d grown close. And Remmy loved her, too. And so they watched, and they listened, as Deirdre rattled on with somebody else’s voice and somebody else’s words and pretended they were her own, because it was easier. Easier than being yourself. How many times had Remmy done this same thing? Repeat after me, soldier. Do as I do, soldier. They knew the circumstance wasn’t the same, Deirdre’s views were built into her perhaps from the start, and Remmy’s were only shoved into their head when they were at their lowest and craved any sort of attention. Craved for anyone or anything to love them and give them purpose. The only difference was that Remmy had died, and in death, they’d been freed. Deirdre had no such mercy. Finally, she finished speaking. Remmy wavered, then looked up at her. They let her look down on them, let her believe her position, her stance, could make her superior, if that was what she needed right now. They would no longer bend, like the bones in their body. They knew what they stood for and no one could take that away from them. Not Lydia, not Morgan-- not Deirdre. “You didn’t answer the question,” they said after a beat, “you still didn’t explain to me why fae are better.” They let the words sit quietly in the air for a moment, before adding on, “and maybe...use your own words this time.”

In silence, there was no fuel to summon her fire. Deirdre’s fingers twitched at her side, her lips parted and then pulled into a thin line. She wanted Remmy to call her human again, so she could yell. She wanted Remmy to tell her that Lydia was bad and evil, so she could argue. She wanted anything but what they did offer. “W-what..?” She faltered, blinking at them. Where was their previous anger? Where was their disgust to know she was a murderer and a torturer too? Why did they cast Lydia aside, running away, and yet sit still and stare at her? She didn’t understand, and she burned in desperation for any kind of a reaction that would give her answers. “I did. I just—these are my words.” She tried to pull her mother back, but her mind was filled with the image of Morgan, who had often told her the same thing, in different words. And where she thought of Morgan, her mind would not allow the memory of her past to thrive. “That’s—“ She floundered, frantic in her head for any kind of foothold. Humans are, her mother began. People too, Morgan finished. “They just are.” Deirdre replied lamely, trying her best to remember the reasons. Something about the power and the screaming and their connections? But then she thought of Regan’s torture, and the absence of a gift there. “Like a food chain. Some creatures are simply on top; they’re born that way. There’s no grand logical reason, it’s just the way of the world; how Fate commands.” Was that right? Or was it the thing her grandmother said about their intelligence? Didn’t that pixie the other day say it was something about the ties to nature? Her posture crumbled, withered back to the nervous stance she held before. You can choose, Morgan echoed. But what did she think? She stared at Remmy, more sure than she’d ever seen them before—even despite everything. “I love you,” she said, “and I love Morgan, and I loved her when she was human, and I never thought she was less than me; I never thought she was just made to be someone’s meal. But humans are like cattle, and Lydia can keep them and she—“ Deirdre swallowed, hanging her head. “I don’t know,” she confessed in a tearful whisper. “I don’t know what I think anymore.”

Remmy supposed that the waiting was the worst part. Deirdre sputtered and tried to double down and reclaim her stance-- but she faltered in the end, and Remmy watched all of her words drop from her like she just couldn’t hold on anymore. They would have made loud thumping noises as they hit the ground had they been real, but instead, their sound was silent. Even so, Remmy wished they could pick them up for her. They felt their body deflating with a heavy sigh. “They just are isn’t a good enough answer for me,” they said back. “It’s...okay if that’s enough for you. But it’s not for me.” It was okay enough, after all, for Lydia, and it made sense to be okay enough for Deirdre-- but Remmy wasn’t okay with it. And that’s why they had to leave. “And I don’t believe that whole...food chain thing. And I don’t think you do, either. People are just fucking people. Sometimes they’re humans, sometimes they’re fae, sometimes they’re zombies. But they are not fucking cattle, Deirdre,” they hissed the word sharply, feeling the sting of pain of it from when Lydia had said the same thing, “even cattle are treated better than what Lydia was doing to that poor woman. I didn’t leave Lydia’s because I didn’t like what she was, I left because there was no excuse for what she was doing. There’s another way,” they said, teeth grit, voice steady, “there’s always another way.” They looked up to her again. “I love you, too, Deirdre. You and Lydia. As much as it hurts, I always will,” and now was the first time their voice began to waver, as thoughts of Lydia, thoughts of Deirdre, stung their heart and their eyes in just the right way, “but I can’t be a part of that world.”

Cattle were treated rather poorly actually, Deirdre wanted to specify, but sensed that wasn’t the point of Remmy’s argument. They didn’t care about the space Lydia gave like Deirdre did; the leanan-sidhe in Ireland were so much worse, and she wanted Remmy to understand how good Lydia was, in all respects. “Sometimes…” She mumbled, “there really isn’t another way.” Her killing could not be stopped, and what else was there for Lydia to do? Flutter from town to town feeding like a drifter? Why should she have to? Why was it so wrong to keep the food for slaughter in her house? Deirdre sat on the coffee table with a croaked sob. “Does that mean you don’t want to be part of this world, either? This one here, with me?” She asked, afraid to look up and meet the truth in Remmy’s eyes. “Morgan likes having you here,” Deirdre explained, “I know you’re not here for good reasons, but she likes that you can be here, I guess. That we can take care of people. Whatever it is I do...I don’t bring it home. It’s mine, and mine alone.” She turned her head away, hissing at the hot streak of tears that burned down her cheek. “I hope that distinction is enough to get you to stay here, Remmy. I can’t...cast another friend away. I don’t want to.”

Remmy didn’t want to get into the semantics of feeding, or duty, or whatever it was Deirdre thought there wasn’t another way for. That’s not the conversation they wanted to have with her. That wasn’t a conversation they needed to have with each other. Deirdre was nearly ready to collapse, it seemed-- her voice crumpled, and so did she. Remmy watched her close, before drawing in a breath. This would break her, they supposed, and it should break them, too. But their body was already wrought with so much pain, they didn’t think they had room for anymore. They guessed they’d find out, then, wouldn’t they. Slowly, they reached out and took Deirdre’s hands, curled in her lap. They scooted to the edge of the couch and hoped that she would look them in the eyes for this. “Are you going to keep doing the things you’re doing?”

Deirdre hiccuped and drew her attention to Remmy. She shifted her hand to curl around theirs, as tightly as she found zombies liked, and hoped to what little good there was left in the world that Remmy would be okay with her answer. Their eyes spelled no hints out for her, and her mother’s rules had long since silenced in her mind. “Yes,” she said softly, “it’s what I was born to do.” It was what she knew, and if she peeled back the layers of duty and acceptance, it was something that kept the world in balance. Perhaps the harm could be avoided, maybe she didn’t need to toy with her kills as much, but the semantics felt too heavy to explain. She simply watched, and waited, for what she knew would come.

The tightness with which Deirdre gripped Remmy’s hands was practiced. They felt good, knowing that. Knowing that Deirdre knew and loved Morgan enough to have memorized something like that. Knowing that they would have each other in this, through this. They blinked and Deirdre’s face went fuzzy. Tears slipped quietly down their cheeks. They wondered why this pain was so much quieter, so much softer. Finding Lydia had been loud, jarring. Seeing Lydia do that, hearing Lydia say those words. She truly believed them, she believed she was right. She believed everything she was doing and had done was all for the good of those she cared about and herself. But she’d been wrong. What she’d done only hurt. And not only that, she had implicated Remmy in it. She had taken their choice away. But Deirdre had not. As she had said, she kept that part of herself separate from them. And she’d never lied. Wasn’t that the truth? Even if Remmy hadn’t always believed it, they’d always known, somewhere, in the back of their mind. They’d always known that this was who Deirdre was and this was who Deirdre would always be. And they’d loved her, anyways. Still...it didn’t change anything. And it didn’t change their mind. “Then I can’t stay,” they finally answered and their voice was finally small and broken and sad. “Don’t...don’t think of it as casting me out, okay? I’m choosing this. When Morgan asks, you tell her I chose this,” they muttered. Scooted forward a little bit more and leaned to meet Deirdre’s forehead with their own. “I’m sorry, Deirdre,” they said through gentle tears, “I really am. But I’m so tired of the life where pain and violence and death rule everything. I need to do this for me,” they muttered, “for once in my life, I need to do something for me.”

With a swallow, they leaned back. Pried their hands gently from Deirdre’s grasp and reached up to cup her face, so that she would be forced to look them in the eyes. It was important she did. They needed her to know they meant this last part. “I love you, Deirdre, and I always will,” they whispered. And then, with no hesitation, added on, “I promise.”

“No,” Deirdre croaked, quiet at first and then louder as she repeated it. “No, you can’t. I mean you can, but you can’t—you have to talk to Morgan first. Please. You can’t leave without talking to her first. You can’t just be here and then...not be. She won’t like that. And it—Fates, if it has to be like this, then I’ll go. I can go. I don’t bring any of my duty to this home. I don’t want it here. I don’t like it here. But if you still...if that still means you want to go then…” her sentences were claimed quickly by sobs and whimpers. She raised her hands to wrap around Remmy’s wrists in a weak grip. It wasn’t true, she knew it as she’d said it. She cast Ariana away, she brought her wretched duty home and let it twist Ariana out of her life. The shadows stretched longer now, sharper. Like the monsters of her home. She’d tainted this home Morgan built with her, but she could make it right this time. “Please,” she begged, “I know you need to—I can’t—I’m not arguing I just—I just wish you’d talk to Morgan about it first. I-if you need money for a place to stay, I can give you some. But, really, I can just go, if you want me to. I can do that.” Though her lips blabbered silently, mouthing their ‘don’t go’s, Deirdre knew better than to say it. If Remmy needed to do this, she respected that. But her heart split, and she couldn’t let this choice of an empty home be made without Morgan again. She closed her eyes, small under Remmy’s confident gaze. How could they be so sure? How did they know they were making the right choice for themself, when Deirdre struggled to even imagine saying one sentence without consulting the memory of her mother in her mind? “Please….”

“No, Deirdre,” Remmy said, and they were crying now, a sweltering storm filling up their chest and pouring out wherever it could. “I don’t want you to go. Morgan needs you. This home needs you. This is-- this is the home you’ve built. And I-- I need to find my real home. My right home,” they said, shaking their head. “Deirdre, the only reason I’m able to do this now, to make these decisions, is because you gave me the strength. But I can’t--” they swallowed back the words, and suddenly their tongue was dry and their throat felt like cotton, “--I can’t stay when I know. I don’t want to be a part of that. And Lydia-- she made me a part of it without giving me that choice. I know you don’t want that, though. So I have to go.” They nodded, smiled weakly, “I have to go.” They scooted back on the couch, then, and tugged gently on Deirdre. “But I can stay for now,” they murmured, “I’ll stay until Morgan gets back.” Ushered for Deirdre to finally sit on the couch with them. If this was the last kindness they could give her before they left, they could do that. They could hold their heart together for a little bit longer.

“Thank you,” Deirdre mumbled, crawling over beside Remmy, arms wrapped as tightly around them as Morgan liked—hoping it would be enough to make something okay, somewhere. “Thank you,” she repeated, “for staying until Morgan comes back.” There was more she wanted to say about how she was sorry, what exactly her killing was about, why she was getting this kindness where Lydia didn’t, but Deirdre couldn’t find the power to speak anymore. She thanked Remmy again in another sob, babbling her explanation about how worried Morgan got that people would abandon her, and why it was a bad idea for Remmy to leave silently. She whimpered something else incoherent about Ariana—do you know Ariana, Remmy—and how sorry she was about that. Then all she had left to cry was admissions of love and friendship. Her body sobbed in auto-pilot, mind adrift. She remembered her first meeting with Remmy, how unsure they had been to even look at the obvious—how other people’s words twisted their mind. Now they sat steady and sure, making choices alone. Beyond herself, and every agonizing ounce of pain she felt, there was true pride. Nothing like what being fae meant, nothing like whatever she thought her banshee gift was; pride to have known Remmy, pride to see them grow, pride to love and be loved by them. She wasn’t sure when, but at some point she’d mumbled, “when did you get so strong?”

And suddenly, it didn’t feel so much like a goodbye anymore, but a strange, somber celebration.

#chatzy #wickedswriting #chatzy: deirdre #deirdre #to be human #tw abuse mentions #tw blood

13 notes · View notes

peeterparkr · 5 years

Text

limits of desire⤳t.h.||3

chapter 3: choose your theme

MADE OF HONOR|AU

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with you wanting to run away from a routine

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing

word count: 5.3k (wow)

As usual tell me what you think

previous chapter

next chapter

series masterlist

She had never felt this bad before, she had barely slept at all. She guessed she had become so used to not having to feel anything or suppress whatever she felt, but there comes a point where you can’t simply ignore it. As if she had programmed herself to turn around and not pay attention to him, to ignore the tingling in her stomach every time he kissed her cheek and to go blind every time he would strut with yet another girl. But he was her best friend, before anything else, he was her best friend.

You see, there comes a point in life where you’re so used to something than giving up on the new things seems easier. Pride takes place of the situation and never lets go, and sometimes that custom is more powerful than love. So, even if she could fall in love with him, thing that she had to yet admit to herself, and even if she tried to let him go no matter how many times he had broken her heart, the usual manners pulled her back to him, crawling for one kiss on her cheek and another silly joke. Her heart was broken, and he had been keen on breaking it, as if he had wanted to do it on purpose. But was she really in love with him? She couldn’t be.

But she didn’t want him close anymore, not anymore, she couldn’t. Her arm on his chest didn’t belong there, it never had. Even if a part of her wanted to place soft kisses on his cheek, and let him trace a sketch all over her body, connecting every beauty spot from her toes to her forehead, and even if she wanted to hold hands every day and cuddle with him each rainy night, she had to simply forget it. Not even one kiss. Unless she was willing to be tossed away the very next day.

There was no other way than to get rid off him, her feelings wouldn’t cease unless she stopped seeing him.

Y/N was in Tom’s kitchen, opening the fridge without an actual excuse, she was making some serious decisions which involved all her life. All her life except what she was going to have for breakfast. Because with what pathetic excuse would she try to convince herself now? That she was angry because she’d have to comfort Lizzie? What excuse was she trying to come up with now? Because she knew exactly why she was angry, she knew exactly why she was feeling the way she was feeling

She didn’t expect Lizzie to show up right behind her. Being Tom’s best friend included what she called: “taking out the trash in the morning”. It wasn’t a nice way of calling it, she couldn’t stand it, but it suited it.

But she couldn’t really take her friend out, even though she was burning up in rage of jealousy. Y/N jumped alarmed, unaware of the cheerful Lizzie, who happened to be wearing one of Tom’s hoodies.

“Oh, y/n, y/n, it was the best night ever...” Lizzie sang.

Y/n rolled her eyes closing the fridge, deciding instead to turn on the coffee machine. She had woken up with a headache, a clear reaction to the whole drinking they had been doing the night before.

“Ah, was it?” Y/N was clearly ignoring her as she was taking out some cereal. “Is he awake yet?” She tried to ask as chill as she could.

“No, he’s sleeping, he looks oh so lovely,” Lizzie sighed with a smile. “So what’s in for breakfast?”

“I think you should leave,” y/n recommended her, not looking directly at her friend. “Why?”

“Tom is gonna kick you out anyway.” Y/n shrugged as she looked up at her.

“Really?” She crossed her arms. “Funny. We were just talking about breakfast, he said you guys had plans so maybe I could join you, and then you can leave me alone with him.”

Y/N scowled. “We do have plans, did he say you were invited? You probably aren’t.”

She was sounding too bitchy to her friend who had no blame at all. She cleared her throat. “Or maybe since you’re my friend he’ll have some decency but I know how this stuff goes.”

“Oh, but I think this time’s different, bet he’s gonna take me out for breakfast instead, and maybe we could go on a date...” Lizzie was daydreaming.

“Did he give you his hoodie?” Y/N eyed her.

“No, I figured he wouldn’t mind since you took one,” Lizzie shrugged.

Y/N had to stop to take a deep breath.

“Liz, he will mind, look, I don’t want him breaking your heart, so go and put on your clothes,” y/n ordered. “Maybe he won’t kick you out of our plans because I’m here-“

“Honestly, y/n/n, I swear this time will be different,” Lizzie defended herself. “We connected, and it’s not our first time, I’m sure we are meant to be.”

“Tom doesn’t like you for more than a one night stand, Lizzie,” y/n said, she meant this as a friend. “Or two, or maybe, you could be one of his... usuals, but I don’t want you to be one, because look at you, already catching feelings for him.”

Such a hypocrite. What y/n really wanted to say was that she didn’t want Lizzie anywhere near him because she had feelings for Tom.

Lizzie frowned, not pleased with y/n’s attitude.

“Y/N.”

“I’ll go get your clothes.” Y/n shrugged as she left over to Tom’s room.

She knocked on the door. “Put on some clothes,” she warned him before walking in, he already had thrown on a pair of boxers. “Where are Lizzie’s clothes?”

“Morning to you too,” he answered with a yawn. “How’s that hangover going?” He smirked.

“Good, how’s that moral compass going?” She smirked as she picked Lizzie’s clothes from the floor. Tom laughed.

“Ah, c’mon, now, did you have a good time?” Tom asked, walking over as he wrapped his arms around behind her. She blushed, her sudden noticing of feelings toward him wasn’t exactly the best combination with the almost naked Tom.

“Get off of me, I don’t need all my friend’s sweat all over me,” y/n pushed him away. “Had a great time, but I guess I didn’t have as much fun as you did.”

“Ah, it wasn’t as fun,” Tom assured her, as he turned her around. “Honestly, she spent almost all the time crying.”

Y/N looked him up in the eyes. “Are you that bad, Holland? Honestly, after all the experience you’ve had.”

Tom rolled his eyes, laughing. “C’mon.”

“I didn’t know you had performance issues,” she teased as she winked at him.

“I don’t.” Tom’s face turned serious. She laughed as she pinched his cheeks. “Hey, eh, about last night…”

“Had a great time, thanks.” She kissed his cheek, causing him to blush. “Anyway, I’m gonna head home, and I’ll take Liz with me.”

“Hey, uh, what about our plans?” Tom asked before she walked out of his room, giving him a shrug. “Wait, we’re not gonna go for brunch?” Tom followed her.

“You want to?” She stopped mid-walking and quickly turned around, Tom bumping into her.

“It’s Sunday,” Tom said. And they had plans almost every Sunday, they’d go out for brunch usually, they’d help the other with an errand and then they’d up at their favourite bakery to have dessert. Of course he wanted her to stay and continue with their routine, but she didn’t want to stay right now, because staying meant Lizzie had to stay, too. And staying meant having to deal with a shirtless Tom that had suddenly become appealing to her eyes. Staying for brunch meant a lot of things, little, but meaningful.

“But Lizzie?” y/n asked him. Tom bit his lip, nervously as he was facing the problem. “Want her to tag along?”

“Well.”

“We can skip brunch today, we can hang out later, or never,” she suggested. He sighed as he looked away. Y/N returned to her walking. She knew how it went, he’d rather not face the problems that involved having Lizzie with them than have his own best friend with him. Y/N had gotten used to that, being the second plate, and she knew that it wouldn’t change. Her sudden realization of her feelings for her friend wasn’t going to change anything, especially because if he knew about them, he’d run away. Besides, maybe they weren’t even feelings. What she was facing probably had been just a momentary thing, there had been a lot of alcohol involved and he had been flirting.

After a not so nice conversation, y/n managed to get Lizzie to put on her clothes and they left. Y/N had been awfully quiet listening to Lizzie ramble and complain about Tom. The ride home was not particularly the best. But when they arrived at y/n’s place, it got worse: Lizzie was ready to write an essay on how Tom was the worst human being, and how y/n was no better for sticking around him. She was throwing a tantrum over Tom’s rules.

Tom’s rules were based on three principles: Never twice with the same woman on the same week, no breakfast together, no further dating.

And Lizzie’s ranting wouldn’t have been as bad until she insisted that this time had been different and she kept on saying that Tom and her would end up together.

Y/n, clearly, disagreed.

“You’ve been quiet,” Lizzie finally noticed. “Aren’t you going to say anything? The whole ‘you’re pathetic, Liz’ speech?”

“Well, you put yourself to this, Tom was clear, Tom is like that.”

“y/n!”

“You wanted that speech, didn’t you? There it is! You can’t change Tom, he just sleeps around with everyone, he knows how to flirt and he knows how to get you into bed, and I can’t stress this enough, he goes clear with his rules, he doesn’t trick you into falling for him. He just wants sex.”

“Aren’t you disgusted by that?”

“Sometimes, but I love him for other reasons,” y/n answered with venom. “Look, as a friend, he’s perfect.”

Lizzie scowled. “You shouldn’t be friends with him after what he did to me.”

“What he did to you? Honestly, Liz, I warned you all three not to sleep with him, but you did anyway, and he was clear, only one night of meaningless sex. You were the one who obsessed over him! You called him every single day after that night, and you sent him chocolates and flowers! And you were angry? When he specifically told you that it was nothing serious. You were ridiculous.”

“I thought maybe I could have a relationship, and this time it was different, you don’t get it, y/n,” Lizzie complained. y/n was on the verge of tears as she was yelling at her friend. “Haven’t you ever felt something? Maybe you don’t understand because you’re too busy cleaning up his mess to ever feel something about anyone!”

“Tom will never be able to have a relationship, he just doesn’t work that way, honestly, why would you fall for someone who will only end up hurting you? You’re literally making the biggest fool out of yourself if you think he’ll ever love you when all he will do is toss you away the very next day! Sure, I may be only one who cleans up his mess but at least I know what’s up with him, ” Y/N sentenced.

“You know what, y/n? I may be ridiculous but at least I’m not denying myself anything,” Lizzie hissed with poison.

“You fell in love with the wrong person,” y/n realized she was talking to herself, not to Liz, it wasn’t about Liz anymore. She had to make a decision.

Liz ended up crying, and y/n didn’t even notice when she left. y/n was left on her own to think about everything, where she wanted to go with this. No, she couldn’t go anywhere. The best she could do was ignore those feelings and keep him in her life. She couldn’t feel something for him, she couldn’t start to suddenly smile and blush, listening to pathetic love songs. She just had to shake the feelings away. Because she knew that there was no point in asking him to stay if the only thing he could do was leaving. Maybe there was a way to make him love her.

Her phone started to ring, it was him. She took a deep breath. “Yup?”

“So you’ve been ignoring my texts but I’m gonna pick you up anyway, and we’ll go shopping, you’re gonna need a dress,” Tom said. “And then we’ll go for lunch and then to the-”

“A dress?” y/n asked.

“Yeah, need you to be my date for a wedding,” Tom answered. Funny how she had gone with him to oh so many places as his date, but now the word had a totally different meaning.

“A wedding? Whose wedding?” Y/N frowned.

“Ah, you’re gonna love this, Andrew Jacobs” Tom answered. “Now I’ll pick-”

“You’re assuming I want to go to Andrew’s wedding.”

“We can talk about it while we go shopping, okay? I’m almost there so get ready.”

She had to get over him, now or never. But she hopped into the shower to get the cold water to cease her thoughts. And it did help, ish.

She heard Tom yell when he had arrived. Gosh, it wasn’t going to work. She dressed up and walked to see Tom who was watching a youtube video on her MacBook. He had brought her some cinnamon buns.

“I know you probably hadn’t had breakfast, so, brought you these and…. This, and this” he handed over a Gatorade and some pills. “For the hangover.”

“I know what to take for a hangover,” she sassed, but gave him a thumbs up. “Thanks, honestly, it’s killing me.”

They both sat down as she took out two plates, Tom sat beside her and before she could take a bite of the bun, Tom reached over and took the first bite, laughing. She rolled her eyes as they both started to eat.

“So, did she get mad?” Tom asked.

“Lizzie?” Y/N asked.

Tom coughed. “Yeah, Lizzie.”

“Yeah, as expected, Tom, just… May I ask, why?”

“She’s pretty.” Tom shrugged. “And I-” He stopped but then shrugged. “Better do one stupid thing I can get rid off than making another one I’ll regret my whole life.”

y/n stayed quiet. He remembered.

“So you chose her.” She stared at her cinnamon roll.

“Well, yeah, because I can leave her, I didn’t want the alcohol to ruin anything, I didn’t want this to be more complicated than it already is,” he whispered.

“Ruin what, exactly? What is complicated?” She asked, faking being more ignorant than innocent.

“Ah, nothing,” Tom answered quickly as he took a sip.

“Which rule was it?” She asked, trying to change the subject

“All of them, but mostly no back-to-backs, so tell her that if she wants to see me Monday we’ll be fine.”

“How did that rule even work? If you had a date on Sunday and then back on Monday, you wouldn’t be breaking it, right?” Y/N asked, rolling her eyes at the stupid rules.

“Exactly.” Tom winked at her. “Huh, maybe having cinnamon buns could be our new Sundays, much quieter.”

“Yeah, our Sundays,” she gulped.

“So was she hurt?”

“Quite, but you were... “

“Honest.” They both said at the unison.

“I always am,” Tom confirmed.

“You say you’re honest, but I’d call it being a jerk, but hey, keep shielding on that,” Y/N complained. Tom chuckled.

“I’m honest with you,” Tom said. “Am I ever not honest with you?”

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” y/n sang.

“Or maybe I should be like… less honest, like Andrew Jacobs!”

Y/N wrinkled her nose, disgusted. “Oh gosh, no, he’s gross.”

“Ah, c’mon, he only hit on you once!” Tom laughed.

“At my dad’s and brother’s funeral,” y/n snapped. “Don’t be like Andrew Jacobs.”

“Well, he’s certainly not known for his sensitivity,” Tom gave in.

“And you wonder why I don’t wanna go to his wedding,” Y/N sassed.

“I could be like him, lie away.” Tom drank from his juice as he kept ignoring his own cinnamon roll and kept taking bites of hers, earning glares from y/n. “Maybe I need to lie to get women.”

“Oh, c’mon.” Y/N side-eyed him.

“What?” Asked Tom, innocently.

“Nothing,” she answered, as she stood up, trying to go away. Tom pulled her close, hugging her from behind.

“It’s not nothing, that nothing always means something,” Tom tried to get her to talk.

“We both know you don’t need to lie to get a woman in bed,” she admitted as Tom smirked as he placed a kiss on her cheek and then rested his head on her shoulder. y/n felt her whole body jolt, as she pushed him away, feeling the butterflies attacking her again. She couldn’t let herself feel this way. “So, uh, let’s go.”

So there was the answer she needed. They remained quiet or just showing each other memes, and they left, in her car, because she really didn’t want to ride his motorbike. Because riding his bike meant wrapping herself around him and she just didn’t feel like it. She used the excuse that didn’t feel safe there which Tom did question but quickly shrugged it off. But it was better, they could play some music and avoid the elephant in the room. Because they both knew what they had almost done, so the music could help them ignore it. But Tom had stopped himself, y/n thought because he didn’t want to treat her like any of his other girls. He had chosen a very obsessive Lizzie that could possibly lead him to receive flowers, letters and very awkward future encounters rather than ruining his friendship with y/n.

However, the awkward ambience was soon erased with their constant laughing and walking at the mall. Some fans spotted Tom, and as usual, they took pictures with him. The mall was their ideal hanging out spot, they usually went there right after brunch. Strolling through the place and walking into stores and not buy anything, she loved window shopping. They were sillying around, they went for ice cream, they went to a toy store, they danced around in other stores. Trying on clothes, and modelling. It was fun.

“C’mon let’s go pick your dress,” Tom finally said.

“Do I really have to go to this wedding?” Y/N asked with a frown. “Why do I-?”

“I said I’d have plus one, and I thought about you, and c’mon we’ll drink, dance, have fun and make fun of them for tying themselves up.”

“Oh my god, you don’t like weddings?” She asked with fake surprise as they walked into another shop, with pretty dresses and lovely shoes. “I would think you’d love them, it’s like the buffet of desperate girls who want a one night stand.”

“That part I do like, but I don’t believe in them,” Tom answered. “Well, you know me, I don’t believe in the whole concept of love.”

“You don’t?” Y/N laughed. “How about your family?”

“It’s different,” Tom defended his point.

“What about Tessa?” She teased.

“Ah, okay, Tess is the love of my life, you’re right,” Tom chuckled as he stared at the dresses, showing some to her. “I love Tess.”

“You should say that about a human once in a while,” she reminded him.

“That ain’t right,” Tom chuckled.

“How about me?” She smirked, turning to him.

He chuckled watching her. “Psh, it’s different.”

“See?” She looked down, distracting herself with a dress. “You do believe in love.”

“Different type.”

She cleared her throat, letting out a small snicker. “Oh, yes the whole dating type is the one that doesn’t exist.”

“Now, okay you can’t exclude yourself,” he nudged her. “You haven’t dated anyone in a while.”

She bit her lip. “I--was trying to graduate.”

“Well, but you blew off this last guy-uh, the guy with the Dumbledore glasses!”

“Harry,” She laughed.

“Harry! that was his name, he had a really weird beard! You blew him off!”

She rolled her eyes. “I was too busy studying.”

“See? You can’t blame me!” Tom smirked as he handed her over a dress. “This one is pretty.” Tom continued, handing over more dresses. “Well, why haven’t you called Harry?”

“He texted me last night, actually,” y/n said.

“No way, is he still begging you to go and look up for him and marry him? Did he,” Tom had to pause to laugh, “Oh gosh, he wasn’t dating you for you, bet he was only dating you because he wanted to be friends with Spiderman, remember he’d always want selfies of us three? And sometimes without you?” Tom teased, laughing. “Can’t believe that guy, you guys broke up like a year ago, right?”

“15 months, 2 weeks and 3-no, sorry 4 days ago.”

“You’re counting?” Tom laughed.

“He did, it was in his text,” y/n said.

“See? You have a guy dying for you, and you don’t text him back, you don’t believe in love either!”

“Well, that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in love,” y/n explained as she picked the red dress he had given her. “I actually do believe in love, I just haven't found the right person, but I do wanna get in a relationship, have something steady, you know?”

“Steady?” Tom frowned. “We are steady.”

She took a deep breath. “Yes, Tommy, but we are friends,” y/n smiled at him, “I want something more, someone to share my future with.”

Tom stopped as he stared at her, she kept walking looking through the dresses as she became awfully quiet.

“So you’re saying I’m not in your future?”

Y/N stopped looking at the racks, biting her lip. She turned to him. It was the way he was looking at her. How incredible it was, with only one glance he could destroy her. But even if his pretty puppy eyes were killing her, she couldn’t stay with him. Y/N was aware of it, Tom wanted her to be there forever, to be the one in the day, while he had fun with someone else at night. He took her for granted.

“A different kind of future, Tom,” she finally explained. “I mean, I want adventures, you know? Find stories around the world, be a writer, find my own story, not only read about it. You’re my best friend, and I’ll have you there, I just want someone to… I don’t know. I feel like I’ve got way more ahead than I’ve got planned.”

“So, an adventure, huh?” He followed her as she was trying to divert herself from looking at him.

“Yeah.”

“Is your adventure here in London?” Tom asked, and she didn’t answer. “I mean, just to know how long I’ll have you around.”

“You’ll have me around anyway,” she conceited as Tom stopped her, making her turn to him.

“You promise? Because I’m not sure I can live without you.” He took her hand. She blushed and stared at him. Oh, he was messing with her.

“Tommy.”

“I’m serious, y/n,” his voice was soft and steady.

“I’ll be around,” she assured him. He smiled and kissed her cheek. This wasn’t exactly what she needed right now.

She finally walked into the dressing room, and she was fitting the dresses. She’d walk out and he’d help her to zip them up sometimes. Her skin would get goosebumps as soon as he approached her. She’d model, he’d give her opinions, and just help her choose overall. It was an old routine they had, Tom would act as a judge from Project Runway and just compliment her enough to blush. He was a great companion for her when it came to shopping. She kept going on the dresses she had chosen herself, but eventually ended up trying the ones Tom had chosen. The red dress was the perfect one, the one that silked her figure into a silhouette that could be envied by anyone, she felt pretty. Tom was proud enough to convince her to buy that one, and she did choose it because she felt like a princess with it. Tom didn’t let her pay, he excused himself saying he was the one inviting her last hour.

After shopping, Tom suggested they‘d go to the bakery. Y/N had been acting strange, and Tom had noticed it, but he was not going to mention it. It always cheered them up. They’d go to the bakery whenever they had a fight, whenever they were stressed or whenever they were happy. Anytime was a good excuse.

“So, let's play, what am I craving for dessert?” asked Tom as they were driving towards it.

Y/N furrowed her eyes, trying to concentrate. “Uh, apple pie?”

“Ordered that last time,” Tom denied as he snapped his fingers.

“Creme brûlée?”

“Oh my god, don’t tell me you’re losing it!”

“No, no, I’ve got it!” She looked straight into his eyes as he smirked. She took a moment to see his features, oh how she wanted to count each freckle on his lovely nose.

“Cranberry-orange muffin?”

“You lost it, y/n!”

“No, wait! Chocolate truffle cheesecake!” She snapped her fingers in victory as he smirked.

“Yes, and you want...a lemon meringue pie!” Tom chuckled. “I’m better than you.”

“At this game, perhaps, but I’m better than you in everything else,” she teased.

He coughed. “Ah really?”

“Yeah, you’re an awful person, I’m a better person.”

Tom frowned. “I am a good person!”

“You don’t believe in weddings!” Y/N tried to defend herself.

Tom rolled his eyes. “Look, I can’t believe in weddings when I slept with the bride,” Tom laughed, causing y/n to now roll her eyes.

“Of course you did.” She clicked her tongue.

They arrived and ordered their dessert, y/n went for coffee Tom went for tea. They were both eating from each other’s dessert, something they were used to do. They didn’t even mind if the other was eating more of their own dessert. It was cute.

“He’s one of your best friends, Thomas,” she said.

“Who is?”

“Andrew,” she reminded him. “I can’t believe you.”

“It was before they were dating, and it’s not like he’s Haz or Tuwaine,” Tom defended himself. “And okay, if it wasn’t for me, they wouldn’t have met.”

Y/N sighed, throwing her head had. “Why can’t you take one of those women you’re rubbing against to the wedding?”

“Ah, no weddings or family events,” Tom reminded her.

“Oh, that rule,” y/n rolled her eyes. “Seems to be I am the only exception.”

“You are,” Tom said. “But, I’m not sleeping with you, that’s why.”

Y/n shook her head. “I wanna see the day you fall in love, Tom, that poor soul.”

Tom smirked. “That day will never come.”

“Ah, please, deep inside you know someday she’ll come,” y/n said, as she took a spoonful of her dessert. “Someday you will find yourself realizing you’re falling for someone, and you know what?” She offered the spoonful, as Tom tried to reach over to take the bite, as he was almost going to eat it, she took it back and ate it herself. “She won’t love you back, and she’ll break your heart like you’ve broken all of those girls’ hearts”

“Ah, that was mean,” Tom complained as he poked the meringue and placed it on her nose. She frowned. “But I assure you, that won’t happen.”

Y/N laughed, as she cleaned the meringue off. “You never know, life gives you adventures.”

“So, speaking about adventures,” Tom said, rubbing his hands together. “Your mother mentioned you were offered a job.”

“Ah, I was,” y/n nodded as she looked away, avoiding his gaze.

“But as far as I’m concerned, the only job you applied for was one in the BBC and you told me they were looking for someone who was willing to travel around Latin America,” Tom said.

y/n stayed quiet but then quickly let out a laugh. “C’mon, that’s a dream, Tom, I’m young… How would I be offered such coverage? I got an internship offer in a newspaper.”

Tom turned serious. “Oh yeah, that one too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, when were you going to tell me?” Tom asked. “I am perfectly aware you got the job offer y/n.”

She stayed quiet.

“C’mon! Why didn’t you tell me? I’m super proud of you, you got a great deal! And that would help you! Maybe while you’re there you can also write your book!”

She blushed looking down. “I guess.”

“But, are you leaving?”

Y/N stayed quiet, again. Yeah, she had been willing to tell him about it. It had always been her dream, and this was bigger. They had offered an actual job to travel to make a reportage around some Latin American countries.

“I don’t know Tommy,” y/n admitted. “But to have the possibility is enough.”

“How long would it be?” He asked.

“6 months,” y/n answered. “I’m not sure if I should--”

Tom blew his cheeks as he nodded. “But you have to, and you already did,” Tom watched her. “I didn’t mean to-I know you are, because well I- I saw you were googling flights.”

“I was being impulsive this morning.” She looked away because in all matters she needed to leave. There was too much in London right now.

“But you have to, c’mon y/n, if you stay, you’ll be around me, sure,” he said with fake arrogance. “But then, that’s it! You won’t be able to go away, I mean, you can, but, this is your dream! Ever since I met you I remember you wanted to do that, travel around” Tom tried to convince her, as he reached over for her hand. “Why back away now that you have it?”

“It’s scary,” She admitted as she stared down at his hand.

“But it’s your chance! Look, if I hadn’t taken the chance to be Spider-Man who knows where I’d be now!” Tom motivated her with a smile, squeezing her hand, and leaning forward. “I know it’s scary but you can do it.”

She wanted to leave, but she didn’t know if she wanted to leave because of her dream or to get rid off her feelings for her friend. She glanced at their hands and pulled her hand off to her.

“I’ll think about it.”

Tom knew he didn’t have to push it. He couldn't push it any further, so he knew he had to change the subject so he took a bite of her lemon meringue pie. “Oh gosh, this is so good.”

“It is,” she quickly gave in.

“Should’ve ordered this, you always order better than me,” Tom took another bite as y/n, herself reached over for his chocolate cheesecake. “I’ll order this from now on.”

“No, you won’t,” she ordered with a smirk. Tom scowled with his mouth full.

“Why?”He asked as soon as he had gulped down.

“I need you to order the chocolate cake so I can have some.” She winked at him. “You complete me, darling.”

previous chapter

next chapter

series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

tag list @laureharrier @clairesrainbow @desirableprey @fairydustparker @newlove-neweverything @ymeradonnadx @underoosmarvel @tomhollandlovebot @its-the-unknownspidey @savethebabyseals @hermionedeservesbetterthanron @tomhaz @wronglanemendes @itsvianny @jake-and-amy-are-married @starlightfound @tiredfeels @thespiderdweeb @kill-the-stereo @thequeensardine @originalpinkpowerranger @lavenderholland @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @organicpurplepants @happywolves81 @nedthegay @skylar-mendes @emma-worthington @redwhitenbucky @cartiertom @elefthavraam @sentimentalquackson @savannah0111 @vibhati123 @imagine-that-100 @lunagreenwood @hollandhearts @bluparis @badhollandfluff @myspideysensesrtingling @spidermansmj14 @soccerstud004 @marinaabernardii @applenter @silver-winter-wolf @dark-infernal-instruments @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @harringtonsbaseballbat @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott. @almostrosadiazz @tonystark-mcu @tomzfrog @tohollandback @morganhoran1671 @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl @everythingbooknerd @xapham @parkerswebhead @afilmbypeterparkr @xxtomxo @gioandreolli @tomhollandisagod @danicarosaline @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @fufaation15 @healthyassdonut @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25 @cassindeansass @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespidey @nathaliabakes @hollandslut @marvelstuck @embrace-themagic @bradfordbantams@sanniegirl1214 @gioandreolli @peterpandco @fairytaleparker @underooling @griff1ndor @chubby-cheek-calum @thatweirdomimic @avengersgirllorianna @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland

323 notes · View notes

bewareofchris · 4 years

Note

Tell us about Elizabeth Keen?

Look, I believe in being fair about things so let me preface this with the acknowledgement that it isn’t necessary just Keen that pisses me off? She’s just the longest running example of the sort of writing nonsense that is driving me insane about the show.

But here’s my issue with Elizabeth Keen:

1. She doesn’t seem to have an actual set of morals that she lives by but she is 100% super fast to jump on the YOU’RE A DANGEROUS AWFUL PERSON WHO IS LAWLESS AND IMMORAL. Like, ok Lizzy, sit the fuck down. You stabbed a dude in the carotid in the first episode. You held a man hostage after you shot him. You straight up lied to a man and ended up getting him killed and then you tried to hide the body. You shot a dude in cold blood in front of everyone and somehow think that you should just get away with it?

2. Nothing applies to Elizabeth ever unless she is using it against someone. Law? Rules? Morals? Basic manners? None of that shit matters. Fuck it all.

3. Everything in the show is about Elizabeth and she is STILL over here acting like she’s got the time of day to be surprised?

4. Despite the fact that Reddington has been proven right about basically everything, about her being in danger. About Tom. About her being the target of the Cabal. About how to get her name cleared? About the next DANGEROUS thing? Every single time he is says “please listen to me Elizabeth I am trying to protect you.” She acts like he’s probably just fucking lying to her? Like she knows better?

5. HOW MANY GODDAMN TIMES CAN YOU BE KIDNAPPED, BETRAYED, OR ALMOST FUCKING KILLED BEFORE YOU ARE ABLE TO ACCEPT THAT MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, YOU DON’T KNOW BETTER THAN THE MAN WHOSE BEEN DOING THIS FOR LIKE TWENTY PLUS YEARS?????

6. The fact that she has 0 respect for Red despite the great lengths and personal sacrifice he’s put in to protecting her. Like yes, ok I am willing to concede that he is a little overbearing and that it is difficult to have your life being constantly under survelliance. You just want to go out and prove yourself in the world. That’s fine if it’s all it was. But Elizabeth REPEATEDLY insults and rejects and betrays Red and then ten seconds later shows up like: oh my God why didn’t you stop this bad thing from happening.

7. If Elizabeth was my friend, colleague or child I would literally have cut ties with her in like season 1. I would not still be here dealing with her bullshit. Like you have proven that you don’t want my help. You have proven that you don’t want to listen to anyone. You have proven that you have zero respect for anyone that isn’t actively helping you get what you want in that moment. There’s no gratitude. There’s no friendship. There’s just egocentric Elizabeth Keen getting exactly what Elizabeth Keen wants in that moment.

8. Now, if they were doing this and ACKNOWLEDGING it within the narrative, that she is egocentric and that her behavior is selfish and lawless and immoral. That she is becoming like Reddington (albeit a much more chaotic version) then I would be fine. But they’re not.

9. This isn’t only Elizabeth that has this constant bullshit. Fucking Agent Ressler is over there breaking the law once an episode giving Great American Speeches about how they must uphold the law at all costs. They actually want you to think that he’s an honor by-the-book man. Yeah ok. No he’s not. Give it up.

10. Also, speculation but vaguely spoilers: Raymond Reddington is the real original 100% authentic Raymond Reddington and he is Elizabeth’s Keen father and regardless of what the show says, what twists it tries to pull or what big reveal bullshit it throws at us next, I will never stop believing this. I will accept nothing less.

#Blacklist #Bitching mostly

6 notes · View notes

discordantplains · 5 years

Text

Arrival

It was another day in the void, when, without any sudden cause or awareness to all, but one, it wasn’t. It was Mot who’s keen eye noticed their startlingly reduced number. While the space Dianite had conjured created a way for them to live mostly normal in a reluctant shared living area as they plummeted endlessly—the missing voice of Tom grating on his nerves was the first sign. He awoke fully and stirred Dianite from his meditation.

“Dianite, we’re missing…” Mot did a quick headcount. “Six people.”

Dianite opened his eyes and turned his head to survey the room. “Indeed we are, a shame.”

Martha shook herself free of her own meditation and looked around the room in horror. “Dianite. All of the sky-travelers are gone.”

“And Deviser Gaines,” Andor spoke up, looking around their shared space.

“I did nothing to cause them to leave—someone else must have pulled them from this space,” Dianite stated. He took in the room in thought. “Perhaps the Deviser.”

Mot thought on it. “He was tinkering with something this past week.”

“We should strive to retrieve them,” Martha suggested.

“They’ve likely already died peacefully,” Dianite decided. “They will be missed.”

...Elsewhere...

Falling through the void, while uncomfortable, cold, and tedious, is possible to acclimate to over time. Getting dumped out of it into new dimensions, however, is not. It’s painful in the same way stumbling out into bright sunlight after spending 24 hours in a dark basement, or falling 50 meters into a body of water, is. Not to mention it comes about suddenly. One moment it’s the 100th round of a rock paper scissors tournament, because what else is there to do in the void, and the next a bright white light is enveloping everything from below and everyone is waking up in a sea of wheat and grass.

They lay stunned for a moment, Tucker, Sonja, and Waglington in a heap of awkwardly twisted limbs and Jordan and Tom somewhere else nearby. With an acceptable amount of groaning and complaining-- “Watch your elbow, Wag!” “Ouch! Sorry Sonja!” “Tucker move your foot!” “Jordan your breath stinks.” “Get off of me, Tom”--everyone manages to right themselves and take stock of their surroundings. And, as it turns out, falling out of the void was about as equally disorienting as the scene in front of them.

Rolling plains stretched for miles in every direction. Waist high grains rippled in the breeze like a body of water. A golden sunset spilling gently across the expanse cast all five heros in a halo of warm orange light. They squinted fiercely in the glow, willing their void-sensitive eyes to adjust in an attempt to locate any landmarks.

“Oh gods, we’re dead!” Tom wailed dramatically, pulling up the grasses around them by the fistfull. He was tearfully staring out into the endless ocean of plains, right into the setting sun.

The Dianite champion sniffled, rolling the fuzzy tips of the grains between his fingers. “It’s like that scene at the end of Gladiator!”

Jordan was the first to recover thanks to the sunglasses perched ever present on the bridge of his nose. He let out a bemused chuckle at the hysterical zombie now mostly-fake sobbing into the stalks of the plants he’d uprooted.

“What are you even talking about...”

“Turn around, dipshit.” Tucker’s voice groaned from behind them.

Jordan complied immediately, unable to hold in an “ooh” of interest. Tom took a few more seconds to be dramatic before listening to the Mianite champion.

It was clear, at least, that they hadn't died, but where they had ended up was another mystery altogether.

Before them lay a momentous city. Gleaming in the darkening skies, with amber and tawny structures rising into the blooming sky--pinpoints of stars bursting into existence. It was difficult to see the scope of it considering the flat nature of the landscape, but, from what the five heros could tell, it was at least as big as Dagrun had been on Ruxomar. The buildings closest to them seemed to be smaller, residential structures, complete with the occasional horse stable or animal pen. Their roofs were wooden and rustic looking. Further in lay grander structures that were just visible if one craned their neck at the right angle.

"Well, this isn't Mianite." Waglington astutely noted, hopping in place to test his powers of flight. They seemed non-existent here, too, just like on Ruxomar.

"You can say that again…" Tucker murmured, in awe of the silent city before them.

"Well, this isn't Mianite." He repeated cheekily, brushing off the dirty look he received from Tucker in response.

Jordan wasn't paying attention to their banter and instead was scanning the edge of town for signs of life, anyone who might've noticed their arrival. On Ruxomar, at least, they had caused quite a stir. Groups of people falling from the sky were not commonplace. He almost expected to see armed guards marching their way across the fields while curious civilians peeked through half shuttered blinds. Yet it remained still.

"Should we go in?" He suggested tentatively, scratching at the dark stubble on his cheeks.

Sonja turned around, hair glowing auburn in the dying light and voicing her opinion for the first time since they landed. She looked into the plains, searching for people in the dark waving grains..

"Wait, we're missing people, where are Martha and Andor?"

"And Dianite!" Tom added loudly.

"Oh, and Mot." Jordan pitched in as an afterthought, realizing Sonja was right. It seemed only half of their void companions had made it through, the inhabitants of Ruxomar being entirely absent.

No one had remembered Deviser Gaines.

They spent a few more moments standing around and looking like idiots. None of them had any answers. Unlike the first time there was no empty land for them to build upon without care--or a number of city people greeting them to guide them into their new world. It was an obviously established world--but dead silent. A pair of eyes watched them from a distance. Then a second. And a curious third.

Tucker sneezed, wiping his nose on his shirt sleeve. "Can you be allergic to grass? I think I'm allergic to grass."

Sonja huffed in frustration, the fox ears on her head twitching impatiently.

"Guys…"

"As much as you're right to be concerned-" Waglington cut in, "-I don't think standing here asking questions will solve anything. Wherever here is…" He cleared his throat. "Besides--if Tucker’s allergic--”

“I definitely am,” he sniffled.

“Then we should move closer towards the town.”

She fell silent for the time being though the continued twitching of her ears and tail betrayed the questions she still had lingering on the tip of her tongue. The most pressing being the question of how they'd arrived here in the first place.

Jordan shuffled awkwardly as silence elapsed between them. Tom attempted to tickle the side of his neck with a green fox-tail. He slapped Tom’s hand away. Tucker sneezed again.

“So...should we go in then?” Wag pressed again.

The darkening prairie behind them was beginning to take on a sinister air as the gently swaying stalks began to bleed into the same muted gray. And then lights in the town began to flicker on, one by one as if by clockwork. There were no other such points of light anywhere else across the plains.

“It doesn’t look like we have much of a choice,” Tucker murmured, looking anxiously around the darkening landscape, “unless we want to get devoured by mobs.”

“Well I don’t know why we’ve just been fucking about in the grass then, let’s go!” Tom whooped, stomping forward and away from everyone else with reckless abandon.

“You were literally the only one messing with the grass.” Jordan muttered before trailing after him, Tucker close behind. Waglington and Sonja shared a more cautious look before following suit.

They cut a swath through the prairie grass which Sonja took to mean that no one else had walked through it in a good while, for, aside from their trampling, the fields around them sat perfectly undisturbed.

There seemed to be only one entrance into the town as fences stretched seamlessly around the perimeter, lit regularly with lanterns to keep out the assumedly countless mobs that roamed the plains at night. Tom arrived at the city gates first, jumping high in order to slap a large sign hanging from an elaborate archway carved from immense spruce logs. He missed spectacularly, nowhere near tall enough to reach what had to be a good eight feet off the ground, and Tucker’s bark of laughter at his failure carried clearly across the open expanse.

A pair of eyes wavered in the darkness as the two others drifted away. It blinked--stare locked on the strangers.

“We probably don’t want to create too much of a scene.” Waglington cautioned as Tom turned on Tucker and dared him to do better. Tom crossed his arms as Tucker raised an eyebrow.

Tucker, never one to back down from a challenge, no matter how ill advised or clearly Tom was goading him into something foolish, took a few steps back and launched himself upwards.

He missed by a mile, stumbling as his booted feet touched down again.

Tom imitated the Mianite champion’s earlier laughter and Tucker shoved him in the chest in lieu of a more mature response. The zombie champion lost his footing and sprawled ungracefully in the dirt. Tucker cackled harshly before yelping as Tom lunged in his direction, swiping for the other champion’s ankles.

“Are you five?” Sonja bemoaned as Tucker scampered behind her.

“Yeah Tucker, are you five?” Tom parroted, strafing from side to side in hopes of spooking Tucker out from behind the other Mianite follower so he could give chase again.

The renowned champion of Mianite rolled his eyes in an exaggerated fashion as if he somehow had the moral high ground despite still taking cover behind his girlfriend. “Oh my god shut up, you suck.”

“We’re going to wake someone-” Waglington started before the Mianite and Dianite champion’s bickering cut him off again.

Jordan shot him a sympathetic look but otherwise made no move to get involved or resolve the issue. He was busy discretely peeking into darkened windows. And checking various barrels and crates on nearby porches of a few homesteads outside the gate. To be frank it wasn’t very discreet at all and Waglington was concerned that someone would catch and reprimand them.

It would be a shame if this town’s first impression of them was Tom and Tucker fighting like children while Jordan snooped through their stuff. He opened his mouth again to repeat his concerns but the sight of a swaying lantern making its way towards their sorry group had his jaw closing with a snap.

Too late, they were screwed.

“Welcome!” a man-- a doppelganger to Tom--welcomed them. He carried a bright lantern that had all blinded for a moment as he held it up. “Welcome your good selves to the tranquil city of Ihatchu.”

The very familiar looking stranger beamed warmly at them, apparently having missed their misbehavior, or at least was decent enough not to comment on it.

“Alternates again?” Tucker muttered.

“My name is SkeleTom,” the man continued on oblivious to Tucker’s comment. “And I think it’s an absolute delight to have fresh faces in our humble town.” Jordan was cautiously eying what he now deducted was Tom’s alternate for a sign of trouble. Tom, too, was gazing his alternate up and down warily.

“Skeleton?” Tom questioned.

“On the inside,” SkeleTom chirped. “My--you look a lot like me.” Tom looked uncomfortable being stared at that critically, but SkeleTom’s gaze moved on. “In fact--all of you look very close to my friends,” SkeleTom said in a sort of surprise. He motioned them inside the gates and Sonja looked him over. He wasn’t carrying a weapon, which was a good sign. His eyes were brown and blue, heterochromatic. His shirt depicted a skeleton’s rib-cage and his pink jorts were snug, hugging his long legs--legs a few inches longer than their resident Dianitee’s.

Wag’s eyes lingered on SkeleTom’s legs in disbelief, eyes reluctantly drawn to the stark pink jorts. He forced himself to look up. SkeleTom was a dead ringer for their Tom without a doubt, despite the lack of green pigmentation. It was quite different from Mot who looked like a separate person entirely. These two could have been twins. The SkeleTom fellow was far less aggressive than Tom had ever been in his life. His welcome held none of the impending chaos Tom’s had. .

They followed the bobbing of SkeleTom’s lantern mostly in silence, Tucker and Tom having put their argument aside over the curious appearance of another alternate. The streets were dark, aside from a few sparsely placed streetlights. The windows were black mirrors, void like qualities collapsing the buildings into them--their details vanished among the shadows.

SkeleTom showed them into a bed and breakfast and lit the torches inside with his lantern and flint. Tucker had flopped onto a bed and groaned happily. “I’m so glad to lay in a real bed again.” Tucker kicked off his boots and shoved his head into the pillow. SkeleTom just grinned at them as they took it in.

“It’s free?” Tom asked. He was lingering in the doorway, judging the state of their lodgings.

“Yes, just don’t go breaking anything,” SkeleTom commented. “Honey wouldn’t like that.”

“Is Honey the owner?” Jordan asked studiously sitting on the edge of a bed. SkeleTom shook his head. He rested his fingers in his belt loops.

“She’s the law-enforcement around here.” Tom snorted and SkeleTom fixed him with a look. “I’d do your best not to get on her bad side. She can be one of the swiftest forces in all of the land--she’s Mianite’s champion,” SkeleTom advised. Sonja looked up in surprise and interest.

“My alternate is Mianite’s champion?” she asked. Tucker looked over at her in surprise over her interest and SkeleTom nodded.

“She’s the most feared and respected woman to ever grace the lands. I wouldn’t dream of committing a crime in her presence,” SkeleTom said with complete seriousness. Jordan was staring at him in disbelief.

“You don’t do crime?” Jordan asked.

“Heavens no!” SkeleTom expressed.

Tom let out a snort. “Great--this is the worst world we’ve been to.” Sonja fixed him with a glare and Jordan smiled.

“That’s great to hear,” Jordan said and turned his attention to SkeleTom. He threw the next comment somewhat over his shoulder at Tom. “Glad to see someone more reasonable.”

“Shut your face, Sparklez,” Tom muttered. He stepped in front of Jordan and jabbed a finger into SkeleTom’s chest. “You’re lying--you’re just as evil as I am.” SkeleTom cocked his head to the side and smiled, unintimidated.

“I do bake a mean batch of Monster cookies,” he chirped.

“I like cookies,” Jordan piped up, and SkeleTom peaked around Tom at Jordan.

“Great--I’ll make you all a batch--I love baking for people,” SkeleTom offered. Tom scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Kiss-up,” Tom muttered. “So--let me get this straight. No one here is a prankster? Do you all follow Mianite or something?”

Everyone thought back to Dagrun and its forced monotheism despairingly.

“I follow Dianite,” SkeleTom said. “However, the Ianite champion, Capt Capt--is one of the most notorious and devilish pranksters. He’s the only one who evades the law.” Waglington mouthed ‘Capt Capt’ in disbelief. “He might be your alternate, Jordan--was it?” Jordan nodded. SkeleTom winked at him, “it’s nice to meet a much saner and more eager version of him.” Tom looked at the two disgusted, but his eyes glimmered at the news of Jordan’s alternate.

Tucker who was sprawling on the bed chuckled. “So Jordan is Tom here, and Tom’s Jordan here. Looks like our alternates are just traded personalities of us,” Tucker commented. Sonja snorted.

“As if you were the law?”

“Hey!”

“I’ll just make friends with Capt whatever his name was,” Tom muttered.

“Capt Capt isn’t much for friends,” SkeleTom warned.

“Whatever,” Tom dismissed, staring at SkeleTom in annoyance. “Jordan--you want to go with me tomorrow hunting for supplies and mining,” Tom asked. Jordan turned his head and considered it.

“Sure thing,” Jordan said, always eager to jump headfirst into a new world and explore new technologies.

SkeleTom didn’t seem deterred by Tom’s rudeness and instead listened to them hash out morning plans ambivalently.

“Don’t you want to learn more about our fair city first? I know we’d certainly like to hear more about you.”

“Yeah sure, speaking of--what’s my alternate?” Tucker questioned.

“A farmer--the best farmer and businessman!”

“Fantastic,” Tucker dryly commented.

“Oh you’ll like him, everyone does.” SkeleTom reassured, missing the reasoning behind Tucker’s disappointment. He was clearly hoping for something more badass, but it seemed Sonja had gotten lucky on that end. She seemed quite pleased with it, actually.

“I’d love to meet the others, SkeleTom,” she smiled kindly, “and learn more about the city as well.” She had intentionally skirted around pronouncing the name for fear of butchering it. The spelling on the sign and what SkeleTom had said didn’t exactly line up. It was one of many questions for tomorrow.

“Delightful!” He cheered, mismatched eyes twinkling. “I’ll inform the others of your arrival first thing and we can offer a tour! I guarantee you’ve never seen a city like ours.”

Tucker shrugged. “Not a very high bar honestly given the places we’ve been subjected to.”

“Well, we’ll be sure to raise it nonetheless.” SkeleTom assured, motioning with his lantern as a sign of wrapping up the conversation. “I won’t bother you any further, rest well and I’ll come for you in the morning.”

Jordan and Sonja said friendly goodbyes as the alternate departed, while Tom scowled heavily.

“I hate him.” The Dianite champion hissed as soon as the door shut behind SkeleTom.

“He’s nice.” Jordan commented tiredly. He was curling up in his own bed now, folding his jacket over his nightstand. Tom eyed him disdainfully, standing at the foot of Jordan’s bed to make his point.

“Exactly.”

Jordan just shook his head and closed his eyes.

Waglington sighed, stretching out in the bed he’d claimed without removing his cloak. “He didn’t even mention mine.”

Sonja cocked her head, combing through her hair with her fingers in preparation for the night’s sleep. “Who was your alternate on Ruxomar anyway.”

“Farmer Steve wasn’t it?” Jordan offered.

“Well that makes quite a few things strange.” The wizard commented with a chuckle.

Tucker looked pained, flopping onto his side towards the wall. “Nope, not thinking about that--goodnight everyone. See you tomorrow for the touring bullshit.”

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

They were woken cruelly early to SkeleTom’s cheerful visage. The sun hadn’t even peeked over the tops of the surrounding buildings yet and the alternate was already beaming. He was offering a tray of coffee cakes that he had no doubt woken even earlier to bake fresh.

“I didn’t know if any of you had allergies, so I kept them nut free just to be safe,” he chipperly said. He held out the coffee cake tray for people to take.Simultaneously, he offered a specially wrapped plate of cookies to Jordan while Sonja and Wag dug blearily into the admittedly stellar breakfast.

He sleepily thanked SkeleTom, possessively guarding the treats from Tom who had no regard for personal space and had crawled onto Jordan’s bed, making grabby hands at the plate.

Jordan slapped his hands away, “Be nicer to SkeleTom and maybe he’ll make cookies for you too.”

"I only had time to make one batch, I apologize,” SkeleTom said to Tom who withdrew from Jordan reluctantly to look up at the two bright and cheery eyes peering at him. Tom eyed Jordan’s batch of cookies.

“Sparklez will share with me,” Tom decided.

“I will not,” Jordan countered. He had stowed the cookies on top of a vanity where he’d balanced precariously on the edge of a chair to do so. He was certain if Tom wanted the cookies he’d at least hear Tom fall over once trying to get them.

“Do make sure to try the cookies and tell me how you like them--I’m always so happy when people absolutely love them,” SkeleTom gushed. Tom threw his pillow at his alternate in annoyance. Without even glancing at Tom he caught the pillow and placed it on the edge of Jordan’s bed without a trace of malice. Tom threw his other pillow at Jordan who did frustratedly return the pillow as he tried to lace his boots up.

Beside the quarreling pair, Tucker was still pretending to be fast asleep and Sonja and Wag were discussing their takeaways from the last world. “So, think about how the last place we went to turned out. A warm welcoming city--then it turned into one god-worshipping area with capital punishment for other god following, a whole ill Ianite saga, and then evil usurpers--I think despite how nice he’s been,” Sonja inclined her head in the direction of SkeleTom, “I think we should be extremely careful.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Wag said. “Well--in any case. The gods will likely be around and we can speak with them about issues.”

Tucker sat up reluctantly, glowering at SkeleTom who had sat the tray of coffee cakes down on a table. The scent of them was alluring and he hastily stumbled out of bed and began throwing his clothes on again, muttering curses. “Mianite needs to save me from here--my allergies are going to kill me,” Tucker said. He sounded very nasally congested and when Sonja offered a look of sympathy he blinked blearily through tearing red-rimmed eyes.

“Oh, he looks gross,” Wag murmured.

“I’m sure we can find an old medication for you or something,” SkeleTom offered. “I wouldn’t want you to have a bad time here on account of allergies.”

Jordan had managed to get dressed despite his ongoing war with Tom. His hair was beyond saving, but he still ran his hand through it, trying to flatten it. He snagged a coffee cake and used his other hand to catch the crumbs. Before he could take a bite he did acknowledge the idea of the gods. “I don’t want to admit it--but according to the earlier cycle...Dianite was evil. Mianite was evil next...and we’ve heard my alternate was kind of evil…”

“Guess we can spend all our time kicking Jordan’s ass,” Tom gleefully suggested. He slammed his pillow into Jordan’s face causing him to drop the coffee cake and then withdrew the pillow before Jordan could take it.

“I’m not going to be evil,” Jordan said, “But thanks for the concern.” He spared a sad funeral-glance for the fallen coffee cake and then grabbed the one he figured was going to be Tom’s and cast a glare at Tom who stuck his tongue out. He was the least dressed of them now and refused to get dressed. “SkeleTom,” Jordan said looking to him, “is that the case? Ianite’s evil…?”

SkeleTom thought on it. He sighed sadly. “Yes...we couldn’t have seen it coming, but she was...disturbed. She tried this whole thing to turn the world evil. We managed to stop her--but this city once built to the gods has been emptied by their fear of her,” he said. He put a hand on Jordan’s shoulder. “But trust me, Capt Capt won’t hurt any of you if you stick close to us. Speaking of which--Honey should be meeting us here.”

“So, Capt Capt kills people?” Tucker asked. He was eating his coffee cake unaffected. He had spoke with his mouth half-full and SkeleTom eyed him with disdain, but his chipper smile returned regardless.

“Not anymore, although his pranks can be a little too lethal. Honey and him have worked on their differences and despite his desire for fun, he won’t push her too much. But I must caution--Capt Capt is a voracious liar. He does love to manipulate and I wouldn’t suggest spending any time alone with him,” SkeleTom cautioned. He eyed Tom again who was finally starting to get dressed. Tom looked up at him and shook his head.

“Let’s get going then,” Wag said. “I’d like some daylight hours when we’re done to explore on my own.”

SkeleTom smiled. “We’ll try our hardest---although it may take the whole day.”

“Can I opt out?” Tom asked.

“No,” Jordan answered for him.

They spent a few more moments munching on SkeleTom’s breakfast while waiting for Tom to get ready. And when it became obvious he was intentionally dragging his feet they all got up to leave, incentivising him to get his act together or be left behind.

Jordan had a feeling that’s what he wanted though, so while Tom was dragging his feet through putting his jacket on Jordan strong-armed him out the door, ignoring Tom’s attempt to cling to the door frame.

Though the early dawn light was gray and muted it offered the five heroes a much better look at their surroundings than the night prior. The bed and breakfast seemed to be situated between a boutique and a small oddities shop with a large open area, presumably meant for a marketplace, about half a block away. The best way to describe the style of build was “quaint” as the earth tone brick and wood supports gave off a small town feel despite the scale of the city. Waglington thought it matched the exposed wood trussing inside the bed and breakfast quite nicely. Overall everything was quite prim and proper, with manicured shrubbery and pristine streets.

Speaking of prim and proper, a woman who exuded such attributes was waiting for them at parade rest on the walkway a few paces from the door. She was dressed in shining armor and carried herself in such an authoritative way that meant she could only be the Honey SkeleTom had spoken of.

Sonja looked her over curiously, straightening her own rumpled clothes in slight embarrassment as everyone spilled out onto the covered porch. Honey was tall, taller than Sonja for sure, and her shoulders were broad and stiff. Her eyes were stern, creased slightly at the edges in an indication that she was older than Sonja, but the small rounded animal ears on her head proved that she was indeed Sonja’s alternate self.

Upon spotting her, SkeleTom bounded over and threw his arm around her shoulders, though she was a bit too tall to make it look comfortable.

“Good morning, Honey!” he said cheerfully. She seemed to be only tolerating his presence, “Meet our doppelgangers.”

She nodded curtly, eyeing them all as if they had already been suspected of a crime. Jordan hoped their justice system was less corrupt than Dagrun’s if this was how strict their law enforcement was. Tom was eyeing an obvious abundance of metal sitting in a crate and Jordan pinched his arm. The zombie mimicked biting him.

“Welcome to Ihatchu,” she said in an unwelcoming tone, “my name is Honey Badger, as I’m sure SkeleTom has already told you. Would you care for your tour?”

“Not that there’s a choice, right?” Tucker grumbled, still wiping sleep from his irritated eyes.

Honey Badger regarded him coldly. “No, there is not.”

“Ah, your alternate is very personable, Sonja.” Waglington stage whispered.

“You should catch her when she’s off duty,” SkeleTom interjected, “she’s much less prickly.”

Everyone found that hard to believe. Sonja ended up helping Jordan keep an eye on Tom, but soon she saw Jordan’s eyes roaming to unattended technology with feverish intent and had to start reminding him too that if he thought to helping himself they were screwed.

The tour was long. Every single important stop Honey would give a brief description of, and SkeleTom would add in a long and overflowing anecdote relating to any time he spent there. The only relief they got was when someone cut in before he could speak.

“Here is the town square,” Honey said and Sonja caught a sparkle of pride in her eyes.

It was a grand area, spacious and well decorated. All the buildings were tall, multiple stories with intricate brickwork, elaborate window sills, and tasteful wooden accents befitting a town square. There was a bank, a courthouse, a town hall, as well as what looked to be a humble Mianite temple. It was nondescript and not very large but Tucker’s red rimmed eyes lit up at the sight, eager to make some prayers that would result in him being whisked away from the allergy hell he’d landed himself in.

Lounging on the steps of it was a short, dark haired man, picking at the grout in between some stone slabs with a curved dagger. He was lying back across the stairs, tracking the arrivals with sharp green eyes. Honey stopped them short just as Tucker’s foot nearly crossed a trip wire.

“Aw, Honey--ruining my fun this early?” the voice was low and deep and Jordan could hear the oaky pirate accent he sometimes wished he had. Beside him, Tom was staring at Capt Capt with a look of raw appreciation. Jordan elbowed him.

“Don’t give my alternate that look,” Jordan hissed.

“Sparklez, he’s kind of hot--in a pirate way.”

“He has my face,” Jordan muttered.

“Did I ever say your face wasn’t hot?” Tom wiggled his eyebrows. Jordan sighed and he saw his alternate narrowing his eyes at him. The man gripped the hilt of his cutlass and peered up at Jordan. He was 5ft 5’, but his long jacket and steel-toed boots were stained with blood. What he lacked in size, his eyes made up for. The creases and sun-freckles across his face dotted the area near his eyes with the impression he had only just stepped off a ship. A ship where he had spent days peering into telescopes or into the stormy sky, bracing for death and destruction.

“Let me kill that one at least,” he grumbled, staring into Jordan’s soul. The green of his eyes darkened like fog curling off water in desolate still seas. “I hate duplicates. Only one of me across space and time.”

Jordan couldn’t shake the chill running up and down his arms. “Sit back down, Capt,” Honey had pulled her rapier out.

“It’s Captain Captain,” he muttered darkly. “I can help with the tour--don’t I love being courteous,” he said sarcastically.

Tucker whistled lowly and stepped over the trip wire. “Jeez, Jordan you call yourself a captain--but look at this, man…?”

“Captain Captain,” the man corrected. He said nothing more as he examined the lot of them, eyes lingering hatefully on Jordan. Jordan tried to be friendly despite the threat on his life. “Well, hi--I’m Jordan.”

“You’re dead is what you are,” Captain-redundant muttered.

SkeleTom gasped dramatically. “Oh Capt, don’t be that way.” He rested his arm on Captain Captain’s head. “Capt is short and full of anger.”

“Captain Captain,” Captain Captain muttered and kicked SkeleTom’s shin, causing the other man to hop away, missing the trip wire. SkeleTom happily returned to Honey’s side, leaning on the stern woman and looking Captain Captain over with amusement. Sonja exchanged looks with Wag.

“He’s something,” she murmured.

“Something strange,” Wag agreed.

Tom was still staring mystified at Captain Captain who, despite his offer, had not decided to join them on their tour. Instead he settled back down on the steps, chewing on a cigarette and fixing his long wavy hair from where SkeleTom had mused it up with his physical contact. Tom would have tripped on the trip wire if it wasn’t for Wag grabbing his shirt collar and hefting him over it. “Oh no you don’t.”

“That’s my new best friend,” Tom told him.

Captain Captain looked the other way as if he couldn't be bothered with any of them. Tom tried to wink at him. The surly double didn’t acknowledge him.

“We’ll go see the farm next!”

“Yes,” Honey hadn’t put away her sword. “To add onto the rules I went over earlier: Unauthorized food distribution and creation is not allowed--Mericho is our supplier of food. If you are in need of money, I suggest taking on a number of jobs or if working for us is not a savory idea, I suggest you can go on mining expeditions--so as long as you follow the rules I referred to earlier. If you are in need of a reminder, feel free to ask during acceptable daylight hours. No mining past city limits. Mining shafts must not breach occupied residences. Mining shafts must be approved by city ordinance. Mining after sunset is strictly forbidden.”

“Hey, can we get a modification on some of those rules?” Tucker questioned.

“Absolutely not.”

“Then I’ll just break them,” Tom muttered. SkeleTom overheard and shot him a nervous smile.

“Honey breaks hands for rule infractions.”

“I do,” Honey confirmed.

“Those rules are kind of ridiculous,” Wag stated.

“If you’d like to petition to have a rule changed you’d need to have lived in the city for a designated amount of time--one month-- and submit your appeal in writing with neatly outlined reasons for the desired change,” Honey stated. The group of friends exchanged looks. Jordan opened his mouth, thought about it, and then carefully chose his words.

“We appreciate the hospitality, but we are new. Could we have just a week to mine at night and possibly further away from the city. We’d be willing to have an escort--but just for that week? Then we could stick to the rules?”

The law enforcement woman came to a halt. She looked to SkeleTom and then tapped pensively on her rapier hilt. “...You can have three days,” Honey decided. “I or SkeleTom will accompany you. Or the both of us if you desire to split into separate groups. Should you act of poor character, I shall revoke it.”

Tom had crossed his arms and was looking on making a break for it and Tucker looked to be a second from joining him. Sonja whispered something to Tucker along the lines of ‘if you die, it’s your own fault.’

“Thank-you,” Jordan decided.

The rest of them gave him a filthy look, even Sonja couldn’t hold back her unhappiness. SkeleTom, on the other hand, was ecstatic. He clapped his hands together. “I’m so glad you’re happy to fit in.”

“Happy,” Tom muttered. “Only one of us is an absolute brown-noser.”

Wag coughed and muttered Jordan’s name as if he was being subtle. Tucker sniggered and Sonja cracked a smile, but quickly let it fall as Jordan gave her a look.

“I’m negotiating,” Jordan argued softly.

“Oh absolutely!” Tom mocked SkeleTom’s voice. He made an obscene gesture. “Negotiating to suck up to them. What’s next, gonna ask to lick their boots?”

Honey had her back to the group, but Sonja saw her ears twitching. She was listening. She didn’t let it be known and Sonja felt a seed of worry. SkeleTom was more obvious. He was walking backwards, his eyes sparkling with delight as the group of men quarreled. Jordan’s voice pitching higher the more distressed he got. Wag making hand gestures with Tom as Jordan got too flustered and Tucker quietly laughing at it all. She seemed to be the only one watching the alternates...well, second set of alternates--they did know Mot and Steve and the presumed living alternates in their old world. So did that make this lot alternate alternates?

She might have been reading into it too much. Did it matter if these alternates were judging them? Their group dynamic was chaotic at best compared to these alternates’. But she caught SkeleTom’s eye and he just winked and turned back around, his slight skip unfaltering. If they were bothered by her watching…they didn’t show it.

Jordan had enough of their teasing and joined Sonja towards the front as Tucker, Tom and Wag fell back to continue their taunts. Jordan cast a vexed look over his shoulder. Sonja shook her head, “Ignore them.”

“Don’t worry, Jordan--or is it Sparklez?” SkeleTom had joined them, walking in-step with Sonja easily.

“It’s Jordan,” Jordan sighed.

“Sparklez!” Tom corrected from the back of the group and SkeleTom lit up, mismatched eyes creasing mirthfully at the edges as if that was the funniest joke in the world. Jordan didn’t get it.

“You’ve got something in common with Capt at least.”

“Yeah, I dunno about that. Kind of seems like he wants to kill me,” Jordan cast a look over his shoulder again to see if the pirate was still in sight, only to see Tom making a face at him. He sighed. SkeleTom traded places with Sonja and threw his arm over Jordan’s shoulder and pulled him close.

“Aw, cheer-up. I appreciate your willingness to accept our culture,” SkeleTom said.

“Thanks,” Jordan said. “But I think I’ll have to combat with Honey on some of those rules.”

“You won’t win,” Honey assured him. “But if you all behave I can see to expanding some privileges. There’s been very few people to govern over for awhile, after all,” Honey offered. Jordan sighed in relief. He had for a moment doubted himself, but he knew he wasn’t a brown-noser. He was just trying to be civil.

“I can’t promise they’ll behave,” Jordan muttered, jabbing a finger behind him.

“Suck one, Sparklez,” Tom jibed. He heard Tucker and Wag laughing.

“We’ll evaluate on a case-by-case basis,” Honey amended. Sonja frowned.

“As much as I appreciate that, I also don’t…” Honey looked to her questioningly. Sonja tucked her hair behind her shoulders and unconsciously crossed her arms. “I do like my friends and we’re not from a land with that strict of laws. Please do not kill them for it.”

Honey nodded curtly but didn’t otherwise respond. Sonja was unsure whether to take that as an affirmation or not. She let her arms uncross and dangle at her side. She tried not to let her thoughts bother her, but she kept looking to Jordan. She wanted to express that ‘You really caved too quickly’, but felt it would be rude with SkeleTom standing right there.

They were growing closer to the farms and Honey slowed the group, sidling up alongside a portion of the fence with a gate. SkeleTom disengaged from Jordan to greet the three dogs that had come to alert at the edge of the field as they grew near. They looked vicious, but at the sight of Tom’s alternate they happily wagged their tails and slobbered all over him as he bent down to pet them. Honey whistled sharply and one of the dogs detached and went sprinting into the fields to find something--or ,rather, someone.

Tucker stayed far back, eyeing the grass with disdain while Wag curiously looked over the crops. Tom had wandered towards the front and was looking between SkeleTom and Jordan suspiciously “You know I was just messing with you, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Jordan dismissed and walked away from Tom. Tom looked at Sonja in disbelief.

“God, Sparklez is an emotional bitch,” Tom muttered.

“And you aren’t?” Sonja countered. Tom looked shocked, but the expression fell away and he pettily pulled on a piece of wheat. He stuck his tongue out.

“Not as much as he is,” he pulled a piece of wheat free and was surprised when a dog came tearing at him, ripping into his pant-leg. “Ow, ow! Down Fido! Down!” SkeleTom looked up at Tom, but did nothing to call the other dog back. He was happily giving the calmer dog a belly rub. Jordan was looking at farming equipment and Honey didn’t seem to care Tom was being murdered. It ended up being Sonja’s job to convince the dog to let go. Tom limped to join Tucker, turning up his nose and refusing to go any nearer to the crops as a man in faded blue overalls and light brown hair approached them.

“Well, I’ll be,” Mericho grinned. “Looks like we got strangers to the land after all this time,” he said amicably and he offered a hand to Sonja, the nearest. “The name’s Mericho.”

His smile was bright and cheerful, complete with perfectly straight white teeth, glimmering sky blue eyes, and a strong jawline. He looked as classically handsome as his accent had lazy twang.

“Sonja.” She greeted.

Jordan joined her and shook the man’s hand. “Jordan.”

The other three declined to come forward and so Sonja reluctantly just gestured in their direction. “Tucker’s allergic to grass. Tom’s scared of the dogs. And Wag’s the one completely oblivious.”

“Am not,” Wag called back.

“Allergies huh?” Mericho pondered with a low whistle and a tug on his overall straps, “SkeleTom, d' you reckon you have anything for that unfortunate fellow?” He ignored the dog comment, no doubt noticing the sorry state of Tom’s leg but most likely assuming he deserved it. Judging by the way the animals obediently heeled at his approached they were obviously well trained.

“Reckon I do,” he called back, mimicking Mericho’s accent and choice of diction jokingly. “I’ll have to look around for a bit though, haven’t run into this problem in a while.”

Tucker sucked in a tired breath and wiped his runny nose discreetly, looking miserable. Sonja gave him a sympathetic look before turning back to the idyllic farmer with a question.

“So, you four are the only people who live here? It’s such a big city.”

“‘Fraid so. Built it with the gods’ best intentions, but after the first-wave of people and Ianite and what have you, none came. Too many scared off by Cap’n Devil Boots over there,” Mericho said, and gestured to where Captain Captain had followed them and was now aiming a crossbow at the back of Jordan’s head. At the call-out he lowered it, muttering his full name. Tom looked at him in awe. He flashed a thumbs up to Captain Captain but the alternate scowled at him. “Those that did live here eventually had to retire away elsewhere. Cap’n No Fun is a fearsome little man.”

“Captain Captain,” he corrected. He leveled the crossbow again at Jordan’s chest and Jordan stared at him from where the pirate sat on a haybale in disbelief. “And ye be forgetting how you all played a part in it?”

The other three were strangely silent and Sonja caught a motion from SkeleTom. But when she looked to him he was smiling sadly. He shook his head at Sonja as if to say ‘he’s hopeless.’ Honey shook her head. “Don’t pay him mind, he’s like poison here. I’d see him face the law if he wasn’t too damn slippery,” she let a rare curse slip.

“And our good friend!” SkeleTom added.

“He sure is despite his flaws,” Mericho said.

“Does anyone notice he keeps trying to kill Jordan?” Wag muttered.

“He won’t do such a thing,” Honey stated. “Now will you, Captain Captain?”

He looked grateful that she said his full name and reluctantly sighed. With a small nod he lowered the crossbow. “If he falls in a trap it’s not my fault. Ye scurvy rats,” he muttered. “See you roasting on a spit with crossbow bolts through your neck and arms, you foul double.”

Jordan swallowed uneasily and SkeleTom stood and wrapped an arm around Sonja and Jordan. “Now now, Capt Capt--let’s treat our guests with some love.”

“Captain Captain,” he spat. “You saccharine sack of shit.”

“Oh, he’s a sour pus,” SkeleTom murmured and pecked Jordan on the cheek before standing beside Mericho who passed him a bag of apples. Jordan rubbed his cheek in slight shock and Tom narrowed his eyes from where he stood by Tucker. He looked to Captain Captain and attempted contact again.

“He’s evil, isn’t he?”

“Which one, lad?” Captain Captain humored.

“SkeleTom,” Tom said.

“Yup,” Captain Captain said and Honey shot him a look. “Gives ye diabetes,” he amended and Sonja didn’t miss Honey’s fed-up scowl. The moment of relative civility Captain Captain was upholding was nice--but was ruined by him immediately shooting a crossbow bolt at Tom’s feet--who yelped and, on his bad leg, was sent toppling to the ground.

“Hey!”

“My hand slipped,” Captain Captain offered. “I’ll walk ‘em back.”

“You will not,” Honey corrected. “We’re having a talk. Tonight.”

“The four of us?” Captain Captain asked amused.

Sonja couldn’t help her ears perking up. She was curious. Even Jordan was looking at them. But Honey leveled them all with a look. “It’s a private matter. We respect yours--you’ll respect ours.” SkeleTom nodded.

Mericho smiled sympathetically and flashed a warm grin. “I’ll send along some food with SkeleTom who’ll escort y’all back. Heard he wants to see Cap’n’s alternate try some cookies. You should see how his face glows when someone loves his cookies.”

SkeleTom slapped Mericho’s arm in obvious playful happiness. “You’re too nice, Meri.”

“Can’t help but be nice to a pretty man like you,” Mericho teased.

“Blech,” Tom muttered. He stumbled to his feet and leaned on Tucker who immediately pushed him off, staring queasily at Mericho and SkeleTom. “We aren’t that close,” Tucker muttered.

“What? Scared of cooties?” Tom teased.

“I’m taken,” Tucker immediately said.

“Relax,” Tom rolled his eyes up, “You’re my friend. We aren’t going to start sharing gossip and holding hands.”

“Not with how many times you haven’t washed yours,” Tucker said.

“I saw you once just use hand sanitizer after--” Tucker covered his mouth as Sonja turned towards them. She looked at Tucker questioningly and he just shook his head. His nose was still dribbling. He let go of Tom to wipe his nose and Tom looked at him disgusted. Wag was poking around, but one wave of the rapier from Honey and he let go off the tractor he was beginning to operate for fun. He dropped down and followed after the group, idling next to Jordan who was purposely avoiding Tom.

“Jordan,” Tom whined.

“No,” Jordan replied.

“Bitch.”

“Jackass,” Jordan returned.

“You love me.”

“Uh-huh,” Jordan murmured.

“Admit it,” Tom pressed and dropped back to bug Jordan.

“Are you five?” Jordan questioned. “I am not playing this with you. Go bug Tucker.”

“Tucker’s covered in snot,” Tom said. He thought of SkeleTom and tried to wrap his arm around Jordan, but Jordan immediately shoved him. Tom recovered, but he stared at Jordan in dismay. Wag walked between them to keep them from fighting.

“Tom, grow up,” Jordan told him.

“Loosen up,” Tom responded. His thoughts went south and he opened his mouth to add on, when SkeleTom butted in. Tom glowered at him, but SkeleTom was oblivious.

“I must get all of your favorite cookie flavors.”

“I like Snickerdoodle,” Wag said.

“I can’t taste shit right now,” Tucker bemoaned.

“I’ll have whatever,” Sonja said.

“And you Tom?”

“I’ll have your face smashed in,” Tom said.

“Ah,” SkeleTom’s smile crinkled his eyes. He stage whispered in Jordan’s ear. “No wonder he wants to be friends with Capt Capt!”

“Jordan’s my bitch, he doesn’t answer to strangers,” Tom suggested.

“You know, I’m considering not going with you tomorrow,” Jordan decided before answering SkeleTom, “I like peanut butter.” Jordan mouthed a countdown from three as Tom looked to him with wide glittering black eyes.

“Sparklez! That’s unfair!” Tom gasped.

“Yup--I’m ditching you.”

“Sparklez! You're traitoring me! For him!”

“I’d love to have you around--but I think I’m babysitting you guys while you go mining,” SkeleTom said. “However, you can be in my group.”

“Traitor,” Tom hissed.

“Why am I between you two again? Ah yes, so I can get spit on by Tom,” Wag murmured. Tom rubbed his mouth self-conscious. Sure--part of his mouth didn’t close from being a zombie, but he didn’t drool that much.

Sonja tuned out their bickering and Tucker’s sniffling, turning instead to look back on the fields they were leaving behind. Mericho was leaning on a fencepost and waved good naturedly as he caught her gaze. Honey and Captain Captain didn’t offer such friendly goodbyes and simply glowered at their retreating backs. She wondered what a private meeting between such polarized characters would be like but didn’t expect an invitation anytime soon.

Despite SkeleTom and Mericho welcoming them with open arms, Sonja noted that they seemed a little on edge. Containing Captain Captain’s murderous streak was probably stressful but she figured it was more along the lines of being apprehensive about new arrivals. The lone city in the sea of plains was picture perfect, and she didn’t entirely trust her friends not to mess it up either-- so in a way she understood Honey’s strict demeanor.

The sheriff's gaze still burned the back of her neck, however, and so Sonja set her eyes outward across the prairies beyond the city limits. The grand tour had taken all day, her sore feet alone murdering her. In the dying evening light she caught pinpricks of light in the distance.

| ABOUT | CHARACTERS | PLOT

#mianite #discordant plains #Mianite: discordant plains #Mianite fan fiction #fanfic

52 notes · View notes

ussthunderquack · 5 years

Text

MCU Relationships Headcanon--Princess Shuri

Shuri’s nicknames for other MCU characters, and her relationships with them, according to my headcanon

Nick Fury: “Fury”

I feel like Shuri would have some disdain for SHIELD, having herself grown up with a policy of strict noninterference, not to mention in a secret country that didn’t want to be discovered, so surely wouldn’t be too keen on SHIELD getting close by.

But at the end of the day she’d obviously respect him, because he’s Nick Motherfucking Fury.

Peter Parker: “Jumping Spider”/”Skinny White Boy”

She basically fills the role that Peter’s last girlfriend MJ filled in his life before, but X infinity.

Tony Stark: “Toys-R-Us Stark”/Old Man

Tony and Shuri often team up on tech projects, and are in consistent contact with each other. Tony makes feeble, not-too-serious attempts to convince others and himself that he has adopted Shuri, like he has Peter; but everyone including him can see that she is the grownup and he is her new 50-year-old baby bother.

She often calls him “Toys-R-Us Stark,” in reference to his primitive technology and his maturity level. Because of her thick accent, Tony misunderstood at first, and spent nearly a year thinking she was calling him some kind of dinosaur.

Also, Tony helped her with Bucky’s arm and mind-cure (BARF tech).

Hank Pym: “Ants-R-Us/Older Old Man”

Another old scientist for her to immaculate in the lab. When he and Stark are too busy out-snarking each other to listen to something important Shuri has to say, she gets their attention MIB style, with “HEY! OLD GUYS!”

Like Tony, Hank too misunderstands her Wakandan accent when she first says his new nickname, and thinks she is drawing a comparison between him and a prehistoric species.

Sam Wilson: “Horus”

I know Shuri isn’t Egyptian, but if Wakandans swear by Bastet, she can Shuri can nickname Falcon after the Egyptian Falcon god. She has snark-offs with him, and gives him upgrades on his wings and Redwing

Bruce Banner: “Banner”

Shuri adopts the crap out of him, like she did Everett Ross. She and Bruce are science competitors against Tony and Peter.

She might use some of the tech she cured Bucky with to help Bruce with his Hulk problem. In fact, maybe she helped him become Professor Hulk.

Betty Ross, Dr. Jane Foster and Darcy Lewis: Lab sisters!

Rocket Raccoon: “Space Meerkat”/ “White Wolf’s new chew toy”

Note: Shuri knows what a raccoon is. She’s just being a smartass here.

After nonstop victories in the lab over Bruce Banner, Vision, Tony Stark, Hank Pym, Erik Selvig and the Lab Sisters, Shuri is horrified to have the tables turned, and be faced with alien tech centuries ahead of her own...and the scientist she’s lost out to is a raccoon.

She tries to hide her damaged pride classic teenaged snark-monster style. But all the other scientists are over here sadistically taking pleasure in the scientist who beat them all now losing to the “Build-A-Bear.”

Shuri finally loses it when Rocket steals White Wolf’s newest arm.

Vision: Patient Data

What? They have “Star Trek” in Wakanda. Though Shuri laughs at how primitive half the tech on the show is, and how improbable the other half is.

Obviously Shuri would be fascinated by Vision (I know, she’s the only one, besides Wanda). Even in Wakanda, A.I.s don’t seem to be too commonplace. Not to mention the fact that he’s the Mind Stone, which would obviously be the Infinity Stone most interesting to Shuri.

Wanda Maximoff: “Witch”/”Scarlet Witch”/ “Scarlet Gineapig”

Shuri has mixed feelings about Wanda volunteering to be experimented on by Hydra, at about the age Shuri is right now. Though, Wanda’s third-world upbringing was a far cry from Princess Shuri’s.

Come to think of it, the two are polar opposites in near every way. One is science, one is “magic.” One is princess of the world’s most advanced and near-paradise nation; the other is from a third world war zone. One has a maturity beyond her years at age 16; the other’s upbringing left her still trying to find basic moral grounds at that age. One grew up viewing Tony Stark as a legend of her industry; the other....well you get the idea.

Wanda would probably not have anything against Shuri, since Shuri’s saving her battery-operated-boyfriend. But Shuri would surely have some judgments for Wanda she’d have to rear in.

Dr. Strange: “Strange? Oh, that funny white witch doctor?”

Shuri might be a tad intimidated by magic, since it’s the opposite of everything in her life.

She would also want Strange and Stark to shut up and kiss already.

Steve Rogers: “Captain Manifest Destiny”/”Captain Colonialism”/”the Toy Soldier”/”Rogers, Barnes’ nice friend, who is much better than that Colonist Captain.”

Steve Rogers is on good terms with Shuri’s brother and country. But if Everett Ross is a “colonizer” just for being a white guy/working for a Western government, there is simply no way a snarky Wakandan won’t have something to say about the Captain America persona.

(The only reason this obvious issue hasn’t been addressed in canon is because of his Gary Stu plot armor. Really, if the movies just treated him like all the other characters, he could have some really great stuff.)

James Rhodes: Iron Colonialism (in reference to his thankfully retired “Iron Patriot” suit)

Okay MCU canon, if Shuri can remove the Mind Stone from Vision and fix Bucky’s Hydra brainwashing, she can damn well fix Rhodey’s damn legs. Seriously.

Bucky Barnes: “White Wolf”/”Sergent Barnes”

He is spared the princess’s fiery tongue, because he is a cinnamon bun.

40 notes · View notes

truthbeetoldmedia · 5 years

Text

The 100 6x10 “Matryoshka” Review

You know, when I was assigned this episode to review, I wasn’t expecting to be discussing a moment like THAT (you all know what I’m referring to), so please, be kind while I process by obsessively refreshing Twitter and try to put my thoughts together.

There’s definitely a lot going on in this episode, some of which I LOVED (take a wild guess on what part that is folks), and some of which I was less than fond of. It’s all high tension and high stakes, even more than the last. I’m a big fan of the moves they made to set everything into place; this is probably one of my favorite episodes of the season.

Action and Reaction

Here’s the thing. Putting almost all of your characters in one place forces conversation and development, which can turn out fascinating, or it can illuminate the truly unnecessary plot points and characters that have been hanging on all season.

Raven and Abby are back from space and being taken prisoner like the rest of the Arkadians when Simone, angry about the loss of both the synthetic nightblood and the mind drive they used for Kane, tells Abby that Clarke is dead. As the audience we know that this isn’t exactly true, but Abby has no reason to think she’s alive, since every other host body is completely taken over by whoever’s mind drive is put in that body.

I was pretty peeved with both Raven and Abby’s reactions to Clarke’s “death,” even though it’s been an ongoing joke online that Josie!Clarke could basically say and do anything and Abby still wouldn’t notice that something was up with her daughter. Raven’s been mad at Clarke for the entire season, so I guess I understand a lack of reaction on her part — but Abby? Her lack of reaction is only so off-putting because just last episode we saw an absolute outpouring of grief over Kane. It makes no sense that the news of her only child’s death wouldn't even garner 10% of that.

The thing is, that’s poor characterization either way. Failing to show an emotional response that makes sense is a failure of the writing, and making her grief over Kane much more significant than over Clarke on purpose only highlights how far gone she is. That’s not a character worth keeping around, especially if this difference in emotion and priority is never addressed (and I don’t think it’s going to be). If the writers room is so keen on keeping her around they need to put some effort into showing the audience why that’s worthwhile. I know there are people who like Abby, but when it comes down to plot, what purpose does she serve? In a cast so large they need to trim loose ends or suffer for it, and I think hanging onto Abby for so long is an example of that. What has she done all season besides hole up in the library looking for a way to heal Kane, who’s been technically dead since the Season 5 finale? You could argue that they need her for the synthetic nightblood, but giving Becca’s notebook to Raven and having her do it also makes sense, especially since Abby doesn’t even leverage that ability when she should. Case in point: when Russell decides to burn them all at the stake after Simone’s murder, Murphy is the one who brings up being able to make nightblood from bone marrow, thereby saving everyone from a super vintage execution (for now).

While we’re at it — I can’t believe Abby is actually mad at Murphy for helping the Primes, even though he and Emori explain that they both thought Clarke was actually dead and nothing could be done about it. Sure, what Murphy did was a little cold and sketchy at best, but it’s right on brand. Clarke’s dead? Nothing can be done about it? Better leverage this to my advantage. Self preservation, baby. That’s much less than Abby did literally ONE episode ago, being fully complicit in Gavin’s murder and actually recruiting him to host Kane’s mind drive even though she knew exactly what would happen.

That’s exactly why these scenes with everyone felt stale: not every character is pulling their weight, and when that happens the scene gets bogged down with unnecessary interactions. There’s too many characters that really only take up space. Characters like Jackson, Miller, Niylah, and even Echo are dead weight at this point. Again, I know that these characters have their fans. That doesn’t change the fact that as far as the narrative is concerned, they're all relatively useless. Just being a named character doesn’t automatically give them significance, that significance has to be shown. What exactly does Miller bring to the show? Or Niylah? Even if they were once important that importance is dwindling if not non-existent. Miller could have been a compelling character: he was Bellamy’s right hand man in Season 1. He’s one of the original hundred. They could have done more with him, but in reality he’s replaceable. If you took Miller, Jackson, and Niylah out of the show, nothing would change. You could even say the same for Abby and Echo; they have more screen time than the rest, but Abby’s continued presence on the show feels forced and Echo is far from a developed character. Their “skills” can easily be transferable to other characters. Characters like Jordan and Emori are MUCH more compelling.

Another thing that drags the episode down (and the season, if I’m being honest)? The whole “Sheidheda” making Madi a murder princess. I absolutely cannot fathom WHY grounder culture is still a thing on this show. They are on another planet, over a century later, with a thousand better things to focus on. I understand that Madi’s nightblood is significant, and the flame might be as well (from a technology standpoint). But why introduce this “dark commander”? if they wanted Madi to go full assassin, the pain of losing Clarke would have been enough to justify it. Also, what point does Madi/Sheidheda being so threatening towards Gaia serve? Having to listen to anything about the commanders is honestly exhausting, and it’s holding the show back. They’ve moved on (literally) in almost every capacity, and the show’s tendency to beat a dead horse only ever backfires.

Not to sound too harsh, but that feeling I get whenever someone calls Madi “heda” is the same feeling I get if I’m at a party and this one person can only talk about how great high school was. This again? We’re in our late twenties. High school wasn’t great. Please, let it go.

With that being said, they are setting up the next episode in a way that makes me think they might take the flame out of Madi for good, so we’ll see how that goes.

Now, there are some compelling pieces here: it was nice to see Raven go back to being sciencey and a little bit philosophical after almost a full season of nothing but self-righteousness. Her conversation with Murphy about morality, not immortality, as a way to avoid hell was well done. The 100 loves a good morality conversation, and with things getting more dire in Sanctum and the growing comparisons between the Primes and Arkadians I’m sure that’s not the last we’ll hear of it.

Getting almost everyone in one place, setting the stage for getting the dark commander out of Madi’s head, and setting up one last ditch effort to appease the Primes was great. The pacing in this case was well done and well executed, despite the issues that I did have, and I know that the final showdown will be epic.

The hold that the Primes have over Sanctum is disintegrating, to put it mildly, and my guess is that a mass witch trial-esque execution isn’t exactly the way to put the populace at ease.

There’s even an internal rebellion being incited by Ryker, who tells Delilah’s parents and another man that their loved ones aren’t “one with the Primes,” that nothing is left of the original host when the Prime’s mind drive takes over, and they’ve been lied to for decades. I’m curious to see the reaction when everyone in Sanctum learns the truth.

The Primes are Dead. Long Live the Primes.

Here’s the thing about the Primes and the Arkadians — they’re so concerned with not being like each other that they conveniently ignore or justify what they’re doing. Russell is hellbent on not ending up like the Arkadians, but how, in any way, are the Primes better than the Arkadians? At their current positions, I’d say that the Primes are decidedly worse. Here’s the thing, though — they’ve had time. Josie said it herself — she wasn’t always like this. Give the Arkadians a few centuries, and who's to say they wouldn’t devolve into something similar?

The driving force for both groups has always been taking care of “their people.” What’s not usually discussed is that in order to put your people first you need to put other people last. Someone almost always suffers, it's just about prioritizing that suffering.

It circles back around to that question of trying to save humanity but never bothering to question if it even should be saved. Sure, the Primes can live forever. Should they?

Clarke even gets a glimpse of Josie’s morality, or the morality she used to have, as their minds start to disintegrate and Josie’s memories bleed into Clarke’s mind space. We see Josie in love with Gabriel, watching that memory fondly until she absolutely has to let it go. In another episode, Clarke already discovered that memory of Josie’s from that diner on Earth.

Finally, when Gabriel and Octavia find Bellamy and Clarke/Josie and Gabriel is about to take out her mind drive, almost all of her memories are gone. Eliza Taylor absolutely kills this whole scene, and I actually could have shed a tear for Josie when she speaks through Clarke, saying she can’t remember, but she’s sure she did terrible things.

Josie had morality. Josie lost it.

The entire run of the show has been exploring morality and what it means — no simple task, I know. I think, however, that Gabriel really embodied that when he let Josie die. He said it himself, he’s been in love with her for centuries. But he needs, everyone needs, the cycle to stop. Putting an end to using hosts is the only way to do it.

That’s Love, Bitches

I mean… come on. Come ON.

This scene was everything. Well acted, well written, well directed. I cried, you cried, everyone cried. Twitter imploded. I’ll go to my grave being adamant that Bellamy and Clarke’s relationship is THE best and most well done thing about the show. The entirety of the sixth season is built on Clarke being gone and Bellamy fighting for her to come back. Love, sacrifice, forgiveness — all are main tenets of The 100, and all are wrapped up in Bellamy and Clarke.

It’s crystal clear that they’re paralleling Gabriel and Josie with Bellamy and Clarke. Josie dies, Gabriel letting her go while saying that their time is over, only for Bellamy to immediately bring Clarke back? Josie and Gabriel’s time is over, and Bellamy and Clarke’s is starting. A literal new life.

They really threw every romantic trope at them this episode. Clarke’s heart stopping in front of Bellamy and him pleading for her to come back? Bellamy saying he needs her? The CPR? The remnants of Josie try to kill Clarke, and she only comes back when she hears Bellamy’s voice? The first thing she sees when she comes back is Bellamy’s face? Octavia’s smirk in the back? The audacity.

This scene was lead up to with a full six seasons of development — from the beginning they were the head and the heart. Gabriel said it, the heart needs the head to tell it to beat. Clarke, clinging to her mind space, only came back because Bellamy restarted her heart. He’s her literal heart, guys.

Bellamy has thought Clarke was dead three times now — the first was during Praimfaya, the second when he discovered Josie was inhabiting Clarke’s body. Both of those times he could only witness and not do anything, so you better believe he wasn’t going to let Clarke die if he had anything to say about it.

There is a clear stage for romantic Bellarke being set here, and anyone who says otherwise is not watching the same show. You don’t have to like it, but it’s happening.

Honestly, anything I could say about this has already been said. Just know that this episode killed me, and I’ll be watching the next one from the afterlife.

Alyssa’s episode rating: 🐝🐝🐝🐝

The 100 airs Tuesdays at 9/8c on the CW.

#The 100 #Matryoshka

12 notes · View notes

kiruuuuu · 5 years

Text

Ignorance is Blitz

Dearest @magehir, I wish you a happy birthday and all the best 💖💖 May this next year bring all that you need. Thank you for existing, putting up with me and infecting me with the worst kinds of ideas :) This is a first part to the long-promised Wikihow fic, though it functions just as well as a standalone, and I hope you enjoy it! (hints for Blitz/Rook, Rating T, humour/fluff, ~5k words)

“How to give passive-aggressive gifts for Christmas”, Mute murmurs.

Rook’s brain shuts off mid-sentence. He supposes this is one of the situations where people claim to be thinking of a million possible responses when his thoughts have instead come to a screeching halt and the last syllable died on his tongue, never to be accompanied by its brethren which would’ve formed the rest of the term best describing the all you can eat buffet he went to recently: culinary extravaganza.

“How to find hot people to be friends with on Facebook”, Mute adds just as quietly as before, apparently oblivious to the sudden silence as his two friends merely stare at him in vague disturbance. “How to act like a modern vampire.”

“What the fuck”, Rook addresses him and attempts to catch a glimpse of his screen, now thoroughly concerned. “I hope to god this isn’t your google search history you’re reading right now or else we’ll have to start carrying around garlic soon.”

Mute, now having finally noticed their attention, is grinning down at his phone and announces: “How to hide an erection.”

“I could’ve used advice on that in school”, Glaz states drily, startling Rook into a laugh.

“How to be okay with having a communist friend.”

“Are those actual – what the hell are you reading?”

It’s yet another one of their lazy days, meaning they’re draped over various pieces of furniture, dying of boredom and hoping fate plops anything exciting into their laps. Their standards keep dropping with every passing second and it’s happened before that a small caterpillar became the highlight of one of their afternoons – they spent more than an hour simply feeding it and watching it eat and Glaz ended up almost crying when Sledge threw it outside to motivate them for kitchen duty. At this point, Rook would give his left arm for a balloon or a piece of string, though he keeps dismissing Mute’s claims about the internet harbouring enough entertainment to last several lifetimes. Maybe he just doesn’t know where to look, however.

“How to trick people into thinking you’re possessed.”

“Step one: be Mark Chandar on too many energy drinks.” Mute throws the Frenchman a glare and earns an innocent smile in return. “Seriously though, pretending to be possessed by a demon must be hilarious around Maestro, he’d probably cry.”

“He’d cry for you”, Mute informs him. “With me, he’d offer to put me down before even thinking twice about an exorcism. Do you think we should pick one of these stupid articles and actually do what it says? It could be entertaining.”

“Are there any remotely nice ones?”, Glaz wants to know hopefully. “Like ‘how to break into somebody’s room and clean it without their knowledge’?”

“Oh, here’s one for Jules – ‘how to love’.”

Before Rook can even threaten bodily harm, Glaz sighs and mumbles: “That one I definitely don’t need to read.”

Fighting down the urge to just hug him and never let him go so no one can ever hurt him again, Rook suggests: “They probably have stupid suggestions for really normal things too, don’t they? Like really detailed descriptions of how to shower for example, we can take those and exaggerate them a bit. How does that sound?”

“In that case I’ve got the perfect example”, Mute replies excitedly. “How to date. Short and sweet but the very first point is setting yourself up for success, so this should be good. If we follow this like a recipe, we’ll be dating left and right no problem.”

“Somehow, I doubt that”, Glaz sighs. “Who do you even want to date?”

“What do you mean, ‘you’? Shouldn’t you be the one to do it?”

“I’ll do it”, Rook volunteers to gloss over the fact that the last time Glaz asked anyone out on a date was likely ten years ago whereas he himself flirts with everything that moves, therefore making an unsuccessful attempt sting less. “So, how do I trick myself into being successful?”

“Define your expectations”, Mute quotes the article with a grin. “Are you looking for a lifetime commitment?”

“Sorry, mystery guy, but I’m already in a committed relationship with -”

“- yourself”, Glaz butts in, making Mute snort and break out into immature giggling as soon as he notices Rook’s indignant expression.

“… I was going to say my bed and food, but I guess that works. Thank you for the vote of confidence, in any case. Am I that self-absorbed? I don’t think I am, I’m a good listener, right? And it’s not like I talk over people or ignore them, or as if I’m lacking awareness of talking too much about myself. You wouldn’t call me egocentric, would you? I definitely don’t fit all of the criteria, after all I’m not -”

“Decide how you want to date”, Mute interrupts him quite rudely, Rook finds. “You’re absolutely not going to snag anyone on the internet, we may be out for a laugh but you’re not catfishing anyone.”

“Why would I catfish?! The only fitting part of that is the fish, since I’m a real catch”, Rook protests and causes the other two to groan.

“Yeah, no, I’m not letting you on the internet because you’d need a likeable personality for it. Oh, one of the options is having a friend set you up. I like that – Glaz, who should he try to date?”

“Craig”, the Russian deadpans immediately. Concerned silence follows as the other two attempt to assess whether he’s joking or not. “You can go watch a film with him and get kicked out when he won’t stop talking loudly.”

“I’d say Seamus but -”

“- there’s no way I can compete with Italian sausage”, Rook chimes in and feels a grim satisfaction at Mute’s grimace. He really reacts as if they were talking about his real parents. “Have you seen his bruises? The worst I’ve done is accidentally slap someone in the face.”

Glaz is horrified. “How do you… accidentally?”

“Listen, I was drunk, the guy kept getting louder and louder about wanting me to spank him but I at that point didn’t know how it’s done, so I just…”

“Maybe this was a mistake”, Mute grumbles and rubs his temple. “I would have you date Seamus now just out of spite but he’d chuck you out the nearest window as soon as you started babbling nonsense or acting weird. We need someone who’s more lenient, ideally someone nice so they don’t hold a grudge when we tell them it was all for shits and giggles, maybe shy because then your chances are better, and someone who doesn’t dislike you. So Fuze is out.”

“What, why?”

“Are you telling me you’d like to date Fuze?”

“No, I mean – why doesn’t he like me? He never talks to me, but he never talks to anyone.”

“It could be the fact that you helped Dom dye his teeth blue while he slept. Not only is it fucking creepy, he also looked like he ate all the Smurfs for a day.”

“What about Elias?”

Again, Glaz’ contribution gives them pause, albeit a noticeably more pensive one this time. He’s right, what about Blitz? Together with Sledge, Thatcher and Montagne he makes up Team Dad, meaning they look out for everyone but especially the younger operators, take them under their wing – yet it also means neither of the three are particularly keen on details about their love lives, which is why Mute’s thoughts instantly went to Sledge as a form of punishment. Blitz is similar in that vein, though he fits the Brit’s description to the letter: he’s quick to forgive people, has an atrocious track record concerning relationships as far as they know and he seems to enjoy Rook’s company. He might indeed be a good target for this.

“Rather him than Gilles or Mike”, Rook hastens to reply as soon as he realises that if he rejects the German, this is where his friends’ worrisome thoughts are going to end up. Both of them could easily be his dad, unlike Blitz who might have a fatherly protective attitude towards his younger colleagues but at least no grey hairs yet.

“I’m sure you could win them over with your boyish innocence”, Mute deadpans, making Rook grimace. “They might be a tad too old for your tastes though. I think Mike even owns a Cat Stevens CD.”

“Remember how Elias and Marius talked about a DOS-based game? I think he is, too, but he’s the best out of the three.”

“Ten years older isn’t too old.”

Glaz and Rook exchange a meaningful glance and merely raise their brows at an increasingly flustered Mute who looks ready to smack himself in the face with his phone, given how much he’s suddenly fiddling with it. “I’m not sure we’re talking about Julien and Elias anymore”, the Russian states drily, and Rook nods up a storm.

“Look”, Mute begins to defend himself to two expectant expressions and eventually just sighs in frustration. “Whatever, let’s not talk about my crush -”

“Oh, so it is a crush now, is it?”

“Shut up.” Rook wasn’t aware that Mute’s ears could be this shade of red. “James is… a good friend right now.”

“You say this as if you hadn’t thought about whether he sounds in bed just like the time Seamus accidentally pelted him in the balls with Diana’s tennis ball and he whimpered for an hour straight.” Rook feels a rush of pride at his comment when Mute suddenly looks ready to murder. It seems like he hit the mark, just like Sledge had done: right in the crotch.

“He strikes me as someone who’s had dog slobber in that particular area before”, Glaz murmurs probably as an aside and looks almost shocked when Rook’s instant guffawing lets him know that he said this out loud. Even Mute doesn’t seem sure whether he should be horribly offended or deeply amused.

In the end, they do decide on Blitz being their victim. Glaz gets cold feet halfway through the conversation, raising the issue of morality and deceit but gets shot down quickly when Mute lists some of the pranks with which Bandit got away and which had exceedingly far-reaching consequences. The West wing of their building still has no running water. Not that Rook is complaining about sharing their showers with some of its occupants, no, not at all.

“We’re going to Bond you up”, Mute announces while digging through one of the many, many drawers in the workshop that are filled with… stuff. Rook is waiting for the day this stuff starts pouring out of every cupboard they have, because it means it’ll all get cleaned up and tidied by someone who’s not getting paid enough and maybe then they’ll find the remote for the TV again. He’s sick of bribing people to turn the volume up or down by pressing buttons on the device directly, especially because his candy stash has run low by now because of it.

“What are you guys doing?”

Only Rook and Glaz turn away from the unmanageable mess of cords, cables, plugs and other electric parts in which Mute is elbow deep right now, and maybe Rook should worry about it turning sentient and swallowing the Brit whole at some point, but right now he’s worrying about one thing only: the possibility of Bandit catching wind of what they’re doing. He’s pretending to make nonchalant small talk but really, he must’ve smelled blood. He always knows when they’re up to something.

“Befriending communists”, Glaz replies politely.

“Hiding boners”, Rook supplies.

Bandit’s eyes narrow suspiciously but he remains silent as Mute produces a triumphant noise and pulls out what looks like an earring attached to a cable and a few other things, with a small box at the end. “Here we go! You can wear this, Jules.”

“In my life I’ve only fucked one guy who wore earrings”, Bandit deems it necessary to divulge. “And when he got dressed, he’d do sock shoe sock shoe.”

Rook snorts. “I’m not surprised you’re friends with James since you seem to have prior experience with psychopaths.”

“Let’s go, boys, we have all we came for”, Mute tells them, an unambiguous signal to not engage Bandit any further or else he’s never going to leave them alone, and starts herding them out of the workshop. To their collective annoyance, Bandit follows, unperturbed by the waves of get lost rolling off of them.

“If I give you a Curly Wurly, will you leave us alone?”, Rook addresses him and earns a scoff.

“Please, as if I could be bribed with sweets. This is an interesting device you’re undoubtedly going to misuse somehow and I want to see where it’s going.”

“And four hobnobs. The ones with chocolate.”

“I just told you -”

“Add a chocolate orange to that.”

“Deal. Have fun!”

“I feel extraordinarily gay”, Rook mumbles into his collar and prays that no one else in the canteen is paying any attention to him hovering uncertainly at the edge of the room, waiting for Zofia to be done talking to his mark. Blitz looks comfortable in the middle of the room, paperwork spread out on the table before him and an open bag of crisps by his elbow – only he would still be working during his lunch break. Considering all the people in front of whom Rook could be thoroughly embarrassing himself, he’s one of the better options as his smile is not only contagious but also very pretty. So even if this will influence his reputation for a while, Blitz is likely to be a good sport about it all.

Rook is wearing an apron reading Kiss the cook because one of the items on Mute’s blasted list involved making him look ‘approachable’, and since the pink t-shirt they gifted Glaz with the slogan ‘single and ready to flamingle’ is in the wash, this was the next best option. The earring which serves as Mute’s and Glaz’ way of communicating with him during this whole ordeal is not only garish but unfortunately a clip-on, so Rook couldn’t refuse wearing it. He feels like a budget version of an undercover agent, only much, much shadier.

“You look it, too, so it’s perfect”, Mute’s tinny voice reassures him into his left ear. They’re both sitting at the other end of the canteen, sharing popcorn and crunching infuriatingly loudly into their mic. “Make eye contact, smile and raise your eyebrows – that’s the first step, according to this masterpiece.”

It’s the perfect opportunity to implement a technique Rook has mastered almost twenty years ago: he starts out by rolling his eyes over his friends but as soon as he notices Blitz looking over, Zofia nowhere in sight, it transforms into a bright smile. This instantaneous switch in facial expressions has served him well over the years, especially around unlikeable teachers or bosses – only this time, he thinks a little too much about what Mute has said and ends up with a manic grin instead of a friendly smile while lifting his brows so high he must look either utterly astonished or inexplicably anticipatory.

Glaz masks his snort as a cough whereas Blitz reciprocates his bloodthirsty smirk with a much milder lifting of the corners of his mouth. Even from this distance, Rook can detect his concern which is probably fighting Blitz’ omnipresent drive to be social, accepting and open-minded. He always looks like this when Twitch’s current explanation has left him lost half an hour ago or when Tachanka jovially reminisces about early Spetsnaz training (and who in the world thinks that being chased through a hallway filled with blood and guts by a massive dog in the middle of the night was in any way, shape or form fun).

He’s starting to feel bad. Only a little, but honestly, when Blitz put on the clothes his blind roommate laid out for him this morning (because how else does he explain his usual attire), he probably wasn’t expecting to become a wikihow experiment today.

“I swear you’re gonna make me choke on this popcorn”, Glaz mutters and, like clockwork, Rook immediately replies: “Sounds less entertaining than choking on cockporn.”

More strangled noises in his ear, but fortunately Mute takes over to rescue him from certain death via being cast out of society by informing him of the next step: “Indicate interest and project confidence during social situations. Go on, be interested and confident. You’re as great as you are misguided in one of those, and terrible at the other.”

Rook ignores the slight (really, just because he once paid no attention to what Mute was telling him and they ended up stranded in the wilderness with no more gas doesn’t make him a bad listener, and him self-assuredly flirting his way into some stranger’s car who then became a little too interested in him doesn’t necessarily mean he’s overconfident), and approaches his target with a cocksure swagger he’s practised for exactly three seconds on the way to the canteen. “Hey, what are you doing, I like you, is this equipment paperwork, I’ve actually done a ton of these so I’m an absolute pro, how are you this fine day?”

Blitz stares at him. Maybe Rook should’ve let the other two know that he gets the worst case of stage fright whenever he feels observed in social situations and that it manifests in casual blabbering. “I, uh, I’m good, thanks. Are you alright?”

He sounds hesitant and Rook can’t blame him. After plopping down opposite of the German with a slightly less manic smile, he attempts to ignore Mute and Glaz whom he can very clearly see over Blitz’ shoulder and who both seem to be shoving their fists into their mouths to try and not giggle too obviously. “Peachy”, he beams. “How’s the work going? Is it just as work-y as always?”

His contagious laugh falls on deaf ears, at least from the man he’s talking to. Glaz looks about ready to cry.

“I suppose so.” Bless Blitz for his endless patience. The doubtful tone is still present and betrays his suspicion of something going on, but as Rook neither attempts to steal or set fire to the papers nor to shove a cake into his face, he probably figures there’s no immediate danger. “Have you actually filled out these kinds of forms before?”

“Confidence”, Mute squeaks into his ear, still suppressing his mirth, and Rook suddenly wonders whether Smoke would like to know about the time Mute despaired over his new laptop not working, troubleshooting it for several days and refusing any and all outside help until an innocently passing-by Jäger pointed out that it wasn’t plugged in. So far, the event has been contained but Rook has long been waiting for an opportunity to unleash this knowledge.

“Of course, I used to do them all the time as homework, I could do them in my sleep”, Rook lies through his teeth.

“Great!” It seems Blitz failed to get the memo about projecting entirely misplaced confidence because he goes on to ask: “Could you help me with this one detail then? I’m not sure what -”

And while he explains his problem, Rook’s brain long having shut off, Mute informs him of the next step: “Make engaging small talk. Ask broad, open-ended questions like ‘so, what got you interested in rock-climbing’.”

“So, what got you interested in rock-climbing?”, Rook interrupts Blitz’ detailing completely out of the blue. A distance away, Glaz is putting his head in his hands.

Blitz forgets to close his mouth for a few seconds, and Rook almost wishes he didn’t stop talking but instead ignored Rook’s question entirely. “I… am not particularly interested in rock-climbing, if I’m honest. Why do you ask?”

And while Rook flounders and stutters out a non-committal oh, you know, Glaz, the absolute angel on his shoulder, decides to step in and save him: “Perfect opportunity, the next step is don’t take yourself too seriously. Try making a joke at your own expense if you say something you think is utterly stupid. You can save this, Julien, I believe in you.”

“Well, uh.” Think, think, think. Rook feels like Winnie the Pooh and barely stops himself from tapping his temple. As usual, his mouth is writing checks long before his brain has earned the money, and so he witnesses in unfortunately non-mute horror as the words come over his lips: “It’s just that your muscles are as hard as a rock and I suddenly thought how awesome it would be to go rock-climbing.”

Smooth.

Blitz is genuinely gaping now.

Behind him, Mute nearly falls off his chair while shaking with silent laughter, and Glaz is wearing the all too familiar expression of ‘if anyone asks, I will forever deny knowing you’.

“I, um, well, thanks? I guess? Julien, are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

“I’ve never felt better in my life.” Confidence, right? What was the other thing? Open-ended questions? “Speaking of, what do you want to achieve in life?”

How Blitz hasn’t gotten whiplash yet is a mystery. Maybe Rook will be able to make Mute laugh so hard he’ll drop dead. He’s looking a little blue in the face already. “Why do you ask? Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!”, Rook responds too forcefully and thanks whoever is responsible for Blitz being completely resistant to weird behaviour, merely accepting it as a fact of life and glossing over it. On second thought, the reason for this is most definitely Bandit and Rook would rather gnaw off his own toes than thank Bandit for anything.

Blitz’ eyes lower and he absent-mindedly moves some of the papers around. His entire demeanour… shifts. “I want to make a difference somehow. And I know this sounds horribly cliché, and everyone here has the same wish – but does that make it in any way less special? I don’t think so. We put our lives on the line to ensure some girl will have a mother when she grows up, to inspire some people to turn their life around, so that people have a roof over their head and peaceful sleep. And I don’t care if some say there’s better ways to do this. This is mine, this is something I’m good at, and my capabilities are useful here where they would be lost as a politician or anything else. And there always will be more to do, I’ll never be done, but that’s okay. I’ll know I’ve done a bit, and I’m happy with that already.”

Something flutters.

He hasn’t felt it in a while, not like this, usually stemming from a different place in his body or more concrete, aided by alcohol or general giddiness, but paradoxically his heartbeat is calming down despite the tingling sensation in his chest. Speechless, he stares at the man in front of him, trying to do what he always does when people’s sincerity makes him uncomfortable – joking about it in his head, react with sarcasm, discard the notion as sentimental or naive. Only right now, it’s his cynicism which feels fake instead of Blitz’ words.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bore you with a speech”, the German adds sheepishly and laughs a little. It’s cute. It’s the cutest thing Rook has seen today and if he does that thing where he scratches the back of his head because he’s embarrassed and a little lost now, Rook might pass out on the spot, just lose all body tension and glide to the ground like a jelly pancake because no one, and that includes genuinely happy Glaz, no one has any right to be this adorable.

Blitz scratches the back of his head.

“I’m going to faint”, Rook informs someone, he’s not even sure who, whether it’s Mute and Glaz and this is a badly hidden attempt at getting them to come to his aid, or whether it’s Blitz to inform him that the cute police is on his case.

“Oh, that’s right, it’s lunch and you haven’t eaten anything yet, no?” If his next sentence is something along the lines of ‘let me offer you food’, he’ll have to propose. There’s no way around it. “I’d offer you something more substantial but I only have the crisps. You can try them if you want, but they’re a little hot.”

Right on cue, Mute whispers in his ear: “You should find some common ground and then ask him out. This is already a disaster, no need to prolong it.”

“I love hot things!”, Rook exclaims cheerfully and it’s not even that big of a lie, except that ‘food’ isn’t on the list. But if Mute wants his common ground, he’s going to get it. Without checking the packaging, Rook reaches into the bag and shoves a few of the suspiciously red potato crisps into his mouth.

“He’s going to die”, Glaz utters full of concern, just as the spiciness hits Rook full force.

Blitz seems to be convinced of the opposite. “Really? That’s great, I’ve not found anyone who likes this type. You should try some of the Indian dishes I make now and then!”

Rook’s consciousness is fading, slowly being replaced by unadulterated fire. This must be what it’s like to be burnt alive, he reckons, and right now he’d rather eat glass than ensure a second more of this brilliant pain. His eyes are watering and he’s doing his best to efficiently chew without letting any more of it touch his tongue so he can swallow it as fast as possible, in the process ruining his throat. Now it, too, feels like he ate glass. “I’d love to”, he croaks and sniffles pitifully while a cold sweat breaks out on his back.

“Are you ill? You’re a little…” Blitz’ concern is as heartwarming as it is unwelcome; it only makes everything worse.

“Yes, actually.” He can’t cough now. If he does, all is lost, he won’t be able to stop, ever, and it’ll invade his lungs and slowly cook him from the inside out.

“You need to get out”, Glaz informs him, sounding troubled, “and eat your emergency chocolate. Now. Ask him and then bolt.”

This is it, huh. This is what he’s been working up to for the last half an hour: posing a question while sounding like he’s been smoking for longer than he’s been alive, choking back tears which make it almost impossible to see Blitz, and faced with all the kindness and compassion of a man he suddenly doesn’t want to disappoint.

And so he asks.

“I am still in shock”, Mute says. The others nod.

“I have no idea how it came to this”, Glaz says. More nodding.

“I can finally feel my tongue again”, Rook slurs and downs the third glass of milk, just to be safe. He feels like he ran a marathon, solved maths problems and had an allergic reaction all at once. Not to mention the overarching shame of having embarrassed himself in front of someone who turned out much more sympathetic than he thought.

“I don’t understand.” Mute’s rational brain is rejecting this reality, Rook can almost hear the gears crunching. “Why would he say yes?! Where did we go wrong?”

He’s hesitant to tell them that he actually wouldn’t mind getting to know Blitz better because the memory of them shoving oversized condoms into Glaz’ pockets in order to embarrass him in front of his crush is still all too fresh. “This was a success then”, he very inaccurately summarises the unholy catastrophe of whatever it was that happened in the canteen twenty minutes ago. Maybe he can just… pretend he doesn’t want to actually go on the date but go nonetheless, be far, far from either of these two so he might end up enjoying himself – and if something comes out of it, he still has ample time to let them know.

“You don’t seem sad about this result”, Mute picks up on his careful neutrality and squints. “Are you telling me you actually want him to make you groan with something other than his terrible dad jokes? Is that it?”

“We probably should’ve picked Shuhrat after all”, Glaz muses with a sigh. “He wouldn’t have accepted. He might’ve refused to ever go near you again, but at least we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“Wait.” Mute is on his phone, which is never a good sign if the Thomas the tank engine toy he modified into a fully functioning flamethrower after having watched a video of someone else doing it was any indication. A sense of dread starts rising in Rook. “There’s instructions for a first date here, too. We can do the same thing again, give you instructions and have you follow them. At this point, we kinda have to do this.”

Rook pictures it. All he can see is carnage, chaos and more catastrophes. It’ll be a disaster, he’s already struggling with multi-tasking without it involving another largely unpredictable person, and his nerves don’t deal well with expectations of any kind.

He weighs this against the alternative: admitting that he’d like to go on the date without their interference and facing endless mockery as a result. He remembers his own mental threat against Mute to divulge embarrassing stories of his past to Smoke. He thinks of the time his tongue got stuck to a pole because Mute told him this only happened to children, not adults.

“Alright”, he agrees with a sigh and regrets his decision as soon as Mute’s and Glaz’ eyes light up.

#rainbow six siege #blitz #rook #blitz/rook #kinda #glaz #mute #fanfic #this was a blast I really write lightning fast for you when I'm inspired #♥♥♥#also we all know that bandit would join in if he knew what was going on

81 notes · View notes

breadthecat · 5 years

Text

“Logan isn’t mistreated” FALSEHOOD

Here, thanks to the transcripts provided here of all the episodes, I have done not even HALF of the episodes and the list is already LONG.

Parts that have ~~ before them are ones I’m uncertain on and have an explanation on it

Lying to yourself

[Logic]: Now, w-wait a second, this is my turn!

This is the video where I come to help!

[Morality]: Except I've already gone through this.

Hey, Dad here. I represent Thomas' morality--

(Towards Logan and Patton) [Princey]: I get what you two are saying, and I do care about that.

But here's the thing: I don't really care about that.

[Logic]: Unbelievable. This was totally supposed to be my video.

[Anxiety]: Get over it. You're the least popular character, and you know it.

[Thomas]: -clicks tongue- Ooooh...

[Morality]: -cough, repressed giggle-

[Princey]: Curse you for making me laugh.

Accepting Anxiety 1/2

[Logan]: Uh, if I may… I’m going to step in for a second.

[Thomas]: Ahh, Logan’s here, so I probably did something wrong.

~~[Thomas]: You’d probably know if something is up because you usually provide, you know… The explanatory exposition in my videos because all the other characters are too zany or relatable.

[Logan]: Okay, I’m at a loss here. Should we check on the others?

(Logan isn’t relatable, he’s just here to explain things. Unintentional put down that Logan isn’t actually liked)

~~[Patton]: He’s made mistakes before.

[Logan]: An uncommon occurrence.

[Patton]: Well then you might say the amount of mistakes you’ve made is... infinitesimal.

[Logan]: You make one mistake, and this is what happens!

(Bringing up Logan’s mistakes)

(Referring to Patton and Logan) [Roman]: Let’s see, uh… Disney references, regal appearance, general awareness that I’m better than you two… Uhh, I’m feeling pretty good.

(Referring to Logan and Roman [Patton]: Boy, you two always act like you know all the answers… So, it’s surprising that you keep overlooking something so simple.

Accepting Anxiety 2/2

[Logan]: One would think that the creative side would be able to come up with a nicer way to talk to others..

[Roman]: You'd think the smart side would know when to mind his own business.

[Logan]: See, he's reining me in right now because of you.

[Anxiety]: You DO talk too much sometimes..

~~[Logan]: The relationship between anxiety and performance can be expressed on this curve.

Notice the Yerkes–Dodson curve. It's named after the psychologists, R. M. Yerkes and J. D. Dodson. They-

[Roman]: Get on with it, calculator watch!

[Patton]: Yeah, loud noises!

(Aka “shut up no one cares, you talk too much”)

[Roman]: By the horn of a unicorn, that WAS going somewhere!

I normally would have fallen asleep, but I am not feeling like my fabulous self right now.

I am bitterly, jittery, and not very glittery.

[Logan]: Oh, that's okay. No pressure if you don't want to-

[Patton]: Logan. Shut your ever-flapping gobtalker, okay?

Am I original?

[Logan]: Um, do you understand how rare that is?

[Princey]: Shhhhhhhhhh

[Thomas]: Shhhhh

[Logan]: Alright, well. Do you have an original idea yet? Since that was what you were so keen on.

[Princey]: I'm getting to it, Logan!

[Logan]: This is what we get for making him the leader.

[Princey]: What is with your attitude?

[Logan]: I am simply positing that if you sanction some input from the rest of us-

[Princey]: No! I am in charge! This is Daydream mode!

Becoming a Cartoon

[Logan]: I don't know I always found them off-putting...

[Thomas]: Well yeah, I can see that Logan.

You're my logical thinking and things in cartoons don’t always make logical sense.

BUT THAT'S WHAT'S FUN ABOUT THEM!

[Logan]: I would like a say in this.

[Roman]: Not today, Logic!

[Anxiety]: That's a good phrase to live by.

[Logan]: Yes, I too have had my fair share of nonsense today.

[Patton]: Ha! He's still learnin' Thomas. Sometimes, you just gotta TOON him out!

Ya know? "Toon"?

Can Lying be Good?

[Logan]: On the contrary. Bickering amongst ourselves is historically how we've resolved, mm, all of Thomas' issues. Provided you have me there to, um, sift through the nonsense.

[Patton]: Oh, good, Logan! Everyone's favorite character!

(Patton is Deceit, He’s lying)

~~[ Logan]: Also the concepts of good and bad are arguably meaningless, because we can assign ANY preferred characteristics to either--

[Virgil]: Not a good time, Logan.

[Logan]: Okay, sor-- stop..

Intrusive Thoughts

Logan]: Oh, goodness... are they still disconcerted?

[Virgil]: That's putting it a little lightly, Logan.

[Logan]: Or, your reaction is a little too extreme.

[Patton]: Well, that's easy for you to say.

[Logan]: Why wouldn't it have been easy to say...? It was an 8-word sentence. That's... not exactly laborious.

[Virgil]: What he means is that you're not a great judge of what is and isn't an overreaction. Your most extreme reaction, is an eyebrow raise.

[Logan]: Well, last night, Thomas struggled to fall asleep due to persistent troubling thoughts about-

(overlapping voices cutting Logan off)

[Virgil]: Shut up or I will shut you up!

[Logan]: What I mean is that talking about this shouldn't be as impossible as liberating the sword from its ferric prison. I don't understand why we must prohibit any and all discussion about the intrusi-

(overlapping)

[Thomas]: Please stop, seriously! I really don't wanna think about it.

[Virgil]: I'm gonna prohibit your breathing if you keep this up!

[Logan]: Push... what, exactly?

[Patton]: I'm sorry, but I can't condone any more of that kind of thinking!

Please! Just...

[Virgil]: Just- listen to US this time.

[Logan]: *sighs*

[Virgil]: Why are you defending him?

[Logan]: I'm... not.

I'm just trying to be intellectually honest with Thomas.

[Duke]: Ehh, sounds like bulls**t,

this dork's Deceit in disguise!

[Patton]: NO!

[Virgil]: Then why are you lying?

[Logan]: *scoffs* Lying?

[Virgil]: You just said the Duke is Thomas' imagination.

Logan]: Okay, you two are blowing this WAY out of proportion.

[Virgil]: Logan, I'm sorry, but Thomas can't Logic his way out of this one.Facts are facts. And the fact is: Thomas had twisted thoughts that a stable person would never have.

[Virgil]: You mean YOU don't wanna act on what YOU think!

[Logan]: Virgil! Enough.

[Duke]: Ugh, here we go, Virgil. Looks like Logan has reached his listening-to-others limit for the day.

Logan by far is the most repeatedly insulted side, frequently told to shut up and that he’s the least favorite side. It’s almost a trend, the beginning of most episodes has several insults towards Logan before they get onto the story.

I might do the other episodes, but if someone else wants to take over, go ahead. So far, only Alone on Valentines Day and the Crofter musical has had no insults.

#sander sides #sander sides logan #ts logan #sander sides virgil #sander sides patton #sander sides roman #sander sides deceit #sander sides remus

7 notes · View notes

kaibashadow · 6 years

Video

Story: “A Good Deception”

Recently, Shuichi Saihara, the Ultimate Detective, has been having trouble solving a difficult case that he came across. There is so much evidence he found already to strongly suspect and narrow down the culprit of this particular case to be one of his classmates, but he can’t figure out who that might be. After staring at the pictures of his fellow classmates on the wall and pondering about everyone’s statements on where that person (or robot) was during the time of the incident for quite a long time, there is only one person who he knew he could trust. And that’s only because that person was his alibi throughout the entire day.

Kokichi Ouma.

Shuichi knows that he can’t solve this case by himself and that he needed another person’s help to see if they can formulate any new ideas or find some new facts that he had previously missed or never even thought of. The Ultimate Detective is indeed quite aware of how smart and cunning Kokichi really is, however, he isn’t sure if his companion would either help or just hinder the case.

Despite this, Shuichi is desperate to gain some new perspective by now and knows that time is of the essence. The longer the case stays open, the more time goes by as possible theories and evidence grow colder with each passing moment.

After carefully contemplating about the issue at hand and planning on how to obtain Kokichi’s help, he immediately spares no second into setting foot to find the talented trickster.

- - -

Shuichi eventually finds Kokichi up to his usual antics. He stops the shorter male from doing what he was currently pursuing and turns his back away from him. The detective knows that Kokichi is peering at him, curious to see what is on his mind. Shuichi tugs on his hat as he sets his plan into motion. With as much confidence he can muster, Shuichi carefully eyes his classmate and speaks to him at once, “Show me how to lie.”

Kokichi momentarily becomes surprised to hear those words come out of Shuichi’s mouth, but shortly after, he then bends down as his teasing smile quickly returns to his face once again. Kokichi is generally intrigued at the detective’s request as he often wants to spend more time with said detective whenever he can. With this interesting proposition, Kokichi decides to cancel his latest scheme at that very moment and go with Shuichi.

- - -

Once they enter the detective’s room and he has Kokichi’s undivided attention, Shuichi makes it very clear that this practice was only to help him with his detective work and only for this case in particular. He suspects that at least one or a few of their classmates might be lying about when and where they were at the time when the incident occurred. Shuichi talks and goes over the case with Kokichi, leaving no detail out. Shuichi even describes everyone’s facial expressions and body movements when he questioned them regarding to the case about their own statements, noting a few odd behaviors that some of their classmates did.

Kokichi listens intently to the facts about the case and notices Shuichi’s keen eye for pointing those things out. He can see that the detective has grown a lot since he first started and proceeds to commend him on his efforts so far. He walks over to Shuichi and places his hand on the detective’s chin. “You’re getting better all the time,” he praises him in a soft-spoken manner, caressing the area of the skin underneath the other’s bottom lip.

Shuichi gazes into the shorter male’s eyes, almost wanting to spend his time just being in that exact moment with him.

Quickly shaking away his confusing thoughts, he remembers that time is of the essence, especially with a case like this. He couldn’t afford to waste any more minutes and needed to solve this as soon as he possible. He internally sighs at the thought before he goes back to wearing his usual serious expression. He asks, “Can you help me with this, Kokichi?”

Kokichi lets go of Shuichi, understanding his question. He grins at the detective. “Well, to understand the mind of a liar, you would have to become a liar yourself,” he easily explains as if it were that simple to do.

Shuichi gapes his mouth slightly open almost in disgust at how nonchalantly Kokichi said that statement. He did previously ask the supreme leader to show him how to lie, but the thought of actually becoming a true liar himself leaves the detective in shock. Shuichi notices that Kokichi never once showed any signs of hesitation or had any moral thoughts cross his own mind prior to speaking those words aloud.

Despite this, Shuichi knows that Kokichi is right. There are many liars out there in the world besides the person right in front of him. He shouldn’t be surprised that their classmates are also capable of telling him such lies as well. Even he knows that he lies from time to time himself, but not as excessively as Kokichi.

But, to do what Kokichi stated, that would mean Shuichi would have to go against the very principle of what makes him a detective; because of this, said detective narrows his eyes with skepticism, but he tells himself that it’s for the good of the case. He proceeds to ask Kokichi, “And how do you propose we do that?”

Kokichi eagerly grabs Shuichi’s hand. “C’mon! I’ll show you!” he exclaims, dragging the detective along with him.

- - -

When they reach the destination in Kokichi’s room, Kokichi lets go of the detective and walks into his closet. He brings out two different folded outfits and happily tosses the white one over to Shuichi. “There! Go ahead and try it on for yourself,” Kokichi tells him. “I’ll put this one on as well,” he says while holding the black outfit. “Oh, make sure you put everything on,” he says, enunciating one of those words in a slight enticing manner while he sinisterly grins, having some kind of idea in mind.

Shuichi decides not to question it and heads into the bathroom to try on the outfit. Once it is in place, he looks at himself in the mirror and sees that the style, the color, and the fabric of the material is similar to the uniform that the supreme leader normally wears. He also notices a dark purple wig and purple eye contacts that accompanied the outfit as well. He puts it on, not knowing what to expect. After he blinks a few times and gets used to the feeling of wearing contacts, he looks at himself in the mirror once again, finding that the hair and eye color looks exactly like Kokichi’s.

Shuichi walks out of the bathroom and finds a smiling Kokichi wearing a similar outfit to his own dark uniform. He also sees that Kokichi is wearing a wig and eye contacts whose colors also match the detective’s as well. He raises an eyebrow towards him and questions, “What exactly are we doing?”

“We’re cosplaying, duh!” he gladly answers in a matter-of-factly tone. Kokichi pokes his own cheek and continues to speak, “I’m the Ultimate Detective!” Then, he points towards Shuichi. “And you’re the Ultimate Supreme Leader!” he happily shouts with a giddy expression on his face. He links his arm around Shuichi’s and makes them both look at their reflections on the huge mirror in his room. He chuckles softly with his signature laugh. “Nishishi. With this, we would be messing with everyone’s minds and turning all of the world’s logic wayyy upside-down on how they all supposedly view us!” He leans closer towards Shuichi and snickers. “Neeheehee. Now you can lie all the time while I’ll be the one figuring out the cases and making all the deductions on what you’re lying about.”

Shuichi can easily see that the lighthearted trickster is clearly amused with the idea. The detective has to admit that even he is a bit impressed with this setup and wonders where, when, why, and how Kokichi ever found the time to do this, but he tables the thought for another time and respectfully declines the offer. “Even when we switch outfits, it’s still not easy being you.” He smiles genuinely towards the smaller male. “I need someone who’s good at spotting out people’s lies like you to help me figure out what happened and who might be lying about this case.” Shuichi removes his arm from Kokichi’s and walks back to the bathroom to change back to his own uniform.

Kokichi quickly changes back to his uniform as well in his room and patiently waits for Shuichi. Once he sees him walk out of the bathroom, Kokichi decides to challenge him from across the room. “And how do you know that a talented liar such as myself isn’t going to lie to you as well?” He puts his right hand on his hip and places his left forefinger on his chin. “After all, being able to detect other people’s lies and calling them out is an art that’s hard to teach.”

Shuichi slightly clutches at the air, knowing fully well that Kokichi is up to his usual antics once again. However, he isn’t planning to back down now. He answers Kokichi’s question in a sure tone, “Because I know that you’re curious to know who the culprit of this case might end up being too. You can’t figure out who did it, can you?”

Kokichi rests his hands behind his head and beams widely. “Did I get caught?” He quietly laughs. “Well, you got me! I knew I shouldn’t have ever underestimated your abilities as the Ultimate Detective!” Kokichi happily compliments Shuichi. He raises his hands up midway and forfeits. “Okay, okay. I surrender.” He places his arms by his side, strides on over to Shuichi, and smiles at his taller companion. “I’ll help you out.” He leans his face towards Shuichi’s and offers in a low tone, “Let’s go over the case one more time, shall we?”

- - -

Shuichi and Kokichi spend the next few hours going over every aspect of the case. They both take turns asking each other questions of what might have happened and they both keep shooting down those theories with a lot of fact-checking. However, there is something bothering the expert liar about the entire case.

Kokichi has a neutral expression across his face. Shuichi could tell that during these rare times, Kokichi is either being serious or telling the truth about certain situations. Kokichi meets Shuichi’s eyes and inquires what is on his mind, “Are you sure that that is everyone’s statements in those exact words?” He tilts his head towards the small black notebook on the desk.

Shuichi nods and hands him his small notebook that he carries around during investigations. He watches Kokichi as he flips through the pages and reads every single statement.

Kokichi glances back up and tosses the notebook back to him. “Well, if that’s the case, then most of these people are lying to you,” he answers with certainty.

Shuichi raises his eyebrows at the new revelation. He initially suspected that at least a few people might not be telling the truth when he heard their answers, but he didn’t think that a lot of their classmates would lie to him as the trickster made it out to be. He feels the need to ask Kokichi, “How are you so sure?”

Kokichi explains to him, “Because I heard from the other day that a whole lot of them were going to the mall together as a group, so if all of them are claiming that they don’t have an alibi, then they’re wrong. Unless they all just happened to cancel their plans on that day and never saw anyone as they said in these statements, then they probably lied to you.”

Shuichi places his fingers on the brim of his black cap, trying to think that if Kokichi is telling the truth right now, then why would they all say that they don’t have a single alibi? Were they all involved with this situation in some way? He contemplates on the thought a bit. Hmmm…This case became even more complicated than I initially thought it would be, Shuichi ponders to himself.

The detective looks back at Kokichi. “Could you tell me who you saw then when they had that conversation?”

Kokichi shakes his head. “No, I only heard a lot of different voices at the time, but I couldn’t be sure who was in there since they were all talking so quietly. I didn’t even bother going inside the room to see what they were all discussing about or to see who was in the room.” He lets a sly grin appear before saying his next statement, “But I did hear one person’s voice that I definitely recognized no matter how far I was away from him.”

Shuichi carefully notes the last word in that sentence and cautiously decides to ask whom Kokichi was referring to. “Who was that?”

Kokichi’s grin never loosens up. Instead, it becomes even wider as if he is enjoying prolonging his response to add dramatic effect to the answer of that question.

“Kaito Momota.”

As soon as those words left Kokichi’s lips, Shuichi becomes instantly shocked. His eyes pop wide open, and he considered that the supreme leader was probably lying right now. The detective was about to counter back with words of his own saying that it couldn’t be him when suddenly, he remembers in his own mind and in Kaito’s statement in those exact words, “I-I was alone. I was very much indeed quite alone at that time. All I did was stay in my room for the duration of the entire time... So I saw no one… Because I was alone… Where no one could see me…”

Shuichi believed Kaito at the time because they really were close friends, but now, he isn’t so sure. During that statement, Kaito was slightly fidgeting and being quite talkative. But, he didn’t answer Shuichi in his usual positive, upbeat tone. It sounded more like he was hiding something the more time the detective thought about the conversation. Kaito did keep insisting that he was alone the entire time, but knowing the taller male, it’s quite rare to see him all by himself at all. Shuichi failed to mention Kaito’s behavior to Kokichi when he was describing everyone else’s behaviors prior to this point because he thought it was not relevant to the case. But now, Shuichi has to suspect his best friend for giving a false testimony, even if he didn’t want to believe that someone like Kaito would ever lie to him.

Shuichi has a stern look across his features. Now, he is going to have to question his closest friend once again as well as every single one of his classmates and figure out who is probably lying to the detective. He glances at Kokichi and says to him in a calm, but powerful tone, “You’re coming with me. We’re going to ask everyone again about the whereabouts of where each of them were during the time of the incident.”

Kokichi smirks at the Ultimate Detective’s determination and places his hand near his face as if he was about to salute him. But, instead of congratulating him, the smaller male warns Shuichi, “Be careful of who you might be planning to accuse. You never know what kind of clever word might set off an unsuspecting herd.”

The detective already knows what the Ultimate Supreme Leader is saying. He has already committed the risks into his own heart: the risk of defamation of his own character, the risk of losing his own life, and even, the risk of losing friends and allies. Even though he knows all of this, this isn’t going to stop him from being what he is truly meant to be: someone who won’t rest until he uncovers the whole truth.

“Let’s go,” Shuichi commands Kokichi while walking out of the room.

- - -

Shuichi and Kokichi try walking around in their school, trying to locate where any of their classmates might be. This was very strange for the Ultimate Detective to note. Usually, the hallways, the dining room, the classrooms, or some of the other rooms in the entire school would be bustling with people chatting or doing some kind of activity. However, all the sounds were quiet… way to too eerily quiet for both boys to definitely notice.

After a few more minutes of searching and not finding anyone, Kokichi suddenly laughs maniacally while bending down and holding his stomach, making Shuichi turn and face him. He is kind of a bit worried to ask but also curious to know what is on his mind.

The supreme leader soon regains his composure and stands back up. Kokichi closes his eyes and happily asks Shuichi, “Are you sure you want to solve this case? I mean, nobody died or whatever!” He chuckles to himself at the thought before continuing, “I don’t really see why it’s that important to solve the mystery of this random case that you opened. Like, all you saw was this strange file on your desk one day, and nothing about the facts made any sense to you.”

Shuichi catches sight of Kokichi’s tone and words. He covers his mouth and closely scrutinizes the supreme leader. New thoughts appear on his mind as he continues to ponder and gaze at Kokichi’s current actions. How did he know about that? Was it possible that he was just tricked all this time? Did he fall into one of Kokichi’s traps? What this all Kokichi’s doing?

Kokichi rests his hands behind his head. He beams towards the taller male. “You’re thinking way too hard about this, Shuichi,” the supreme leader points out. He takes a deep breath and relaxes his tone. “Just take a breather and just step back into line. You can figure this out.” He winks at him. Kokichi takes a few paces towards the taller male. “C’mon, I’ll show you where they really are,” he reveals and beckons with his arm to have him follow.

Kokichi walks past the confused detective, leaving Shuichi alone for a few moments while he collects his own thoughts. Why does he know where everyone is right now? He continues to think more carefully about these new facts before he asks himself this, “Was this whole case never real in the first place?”

Shuichi tries to figure a few things out at that moment, but he still isn’t completely sure about what just happened. The detective tells himself that he won’t know the truth until he investigates further and asks Kokichi what is going on. With that thought in mind, he turns around and quickly picks up his pace to follow the Ultimate Supreme Leader.

- - -

Kokichi leads him to a set of doors and gestures with his hand for Shuichi to go in first. The detective was about to ask him what was going on when the leader puts his forefinger vertically across his lips, nonverbally telling Shuichi to not say anything. Kokichi cocks his head over to the door and gently pats him on the back as if he is saying that he would be right behind the taller male the entire time.

Shuichi gives up trying to talk with the person who tends to lie a lot and stares at the handles of the doors. He hesitantly waits a few moments and wonders if anyone is really in there. He doesn’t hear a single sound except for his and Kokichi’s breathing. He wants to know where everyone is, but he also wants to know why did Kokichi bring him over here to this place.

Thinking that Kokichi won’t ever tell him what’s on the other side until he actually opens the doors and steps inside, Shuichi takes a deep breath and places his hands on the two doorknobs. He turns both knobs simultaneously and pushes the doors.

At first, he was greeted by darkness, but then someone switches the light in the room and reveals all of his fellow classmates in party hats. They all yell and cheer out, “Happy Birthday, Shuichi!”

Shuichi looks super surprised about all of this. He had somehow forgotten that today was his birthday, and he feels his face redden at his own embarrassment, but then it quickly turns into a wide smile. “You all did this for me?”

The room greets with elated students just beaming at their classmate. All of his classmates, his friends, are there to celebrate his birthday today. And they all managed to surprise someone like the Ultimate Detective on this day. Shuichi blushes at the thought and produces a cute chuckle from his mouth. He walks over to each of them and thanks them for the surprise party.

- - -

The more time passes and the longer the conversations with his classmates were, Shuichi eventually pieces out exactly what had happened and how everyone in the room was able to hide and pull off this party altogether without letting the birthday boy know about their plans.

Shuichi walks on over to Kokichi who just happens to be holding a Panta in his hand while standing by himself near a wall away from everyone else.

Kokichi places his Panta on a nearby table as soon as Shuichi reaches him. The leader smirks at the detective, being able to read Shuichi’s genuine smile and gambogeish grey eyes as he carefully watches him. “So, you already figured it all out, huh Mister Detective,” Kokichi playfully teases.

The detective nods as he begins to summarize the whole plan. “It all started some time ago, probably like last week or so. Everyone here knew that they all wanted to throw this huge surprise party for me, but they weren’t sure how to plan it or make sure that I wouldn’t become suspicious enough to know what they were doing. That’s when you came up with this clever idea on how to surprise me.”

Kokichi smiles brightly at the detective and slightly tilts his head to the side. “Oh, and what is this ‘clever idea’ that you’re talking about?”

Shuichi continues to talk to Kokichi, finding himself smiling even more when he explains exactly how did they all pull this stunt off without a hitch. “Kaito told me that you volunteered to hang out with me all the time these past few days, claiming that you were very good at keeping a detective like me preoccupied and distracted for all this time while everyone else was setting up for this party. At the time, I just thought you wanted to hang out with me more often than usual and I didn’t even think more about your true intentions.”

Kokichi raises his arms behind his head and grins. “Well, it’s not a lie. I really did want to hang out with you more!” He smirks at the detective and says with a low tone, “And I always get what I want.”

The detective slightly blushes at the thought and continues to converse more with the supreme leader at that moment before Kokichi could even notice. “You even created this elaborate unsolvable case that involved everyone’s cooperation about their testimonies, even Kaito’s.”

Kokichi snickers childishly and openly states, “Well, of course I had to write down that idiot Kaito’s line out for him. I even made him practice in front of me a bunch of times and had to tell him what to do in order to not screw this up!” He beams a look at the tall gel-spiked purple haired male across the room before returning his eyes back towards Shuichi.

Shuichi feels content in his heart after hearing about them teaming up with each other for something like this, but it would be better not to bring it up to either of them in a casual conversation. He gazes at the supreme leader in front of him and continues on with his explanation. “You snuck the case file on my desk one day without my knowledge, knowing that I would be looking at it for a while and wondering where it came from. You somehow knew that I would be interested in picking up a case like this, and you made sure that I would be spending a whole lot of time looking for any clues and asking for everyone’s alibis during the said incident. You also knew that I would be asking for your help in particular simply because you have a smart mind and you were with me the entire time, which in turn, verifies your alibi.”

Kokichi chuckles at the detective’s deductions. “Nishishi, well that last part was exactly right, but I get bonus points from you thinking about me in that way!”

Shuichi happily smiles at Kokichi. “And while you were keeping me distracted these last couple of days and on this day in particular, everyone else was setting up for this party. They all made the preparations here and when they all told me that they were all mostly alone during the time I asked for their whereabouts, they were lying to me about that. They all went out together as a group to go shopping for supplies and gifts at that exact time. And you made sure that while they were gone, you were with me the entire time to distract me and make sure that I didn’t get suspicious about any of them.”

Kokichi places his hands behind his head and has a carefree laugh. “Neeheehee! Well, don’t look at me. I didn’t influence any of them to lie to the Ultimate Detective about anything.”

Shuichi knows very well that that was definitely a lie, but it was all for a good cause. “Everyone trusted you today to play your role into diverting me away from this place so that they can finish their final preparations and surprise me.” Shuichi’s content smile flashes across his face while he thinks about how helpful, meticulous, and how thoughtful the trickster in front of him was when planning all of this. “I’m really glad that you came up with this, Kokichi. Thank you.” He holds out his hand towards the boy to show him his gratitude for his participation with this surprise event, finally being able to see the supreme leader eye-to-eye.

Kokichi takes Shuichi’s hand and shakes it, both hands feeling warm at the touch. There was no way Kokichi could try to hide that. As a final diversion to steer away his own feelings from the detective, he grins at him and happily exclaims, “Happy Birthday, Saihara-chan!”

Shuichi’s smile falters at the sound of the suffix at the end, knowing fully well that Kokichi is still being Kokichi no matter what day it is.

- KᴀɪʙᴀSʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ♥

Fan Art Sources:

1. [0:00] 井ノ上 [pixiv.net] - (User might have deleted artwork)

2. [0:01] 壱紀 [pixiv.net]

3. [0:02] うなぎ [pixiv.net]

4. [0:03] still [pixiv.net]

5. [0:03] ???

6. [0:05] 巣鴨 [pixiv.net]

7. [0:06 – 0:08] Official Sprites from Danganronpa Wikia page

8. [0:09] ゆづる [pixiv.net]

9. [0:10] Chiwi [pixiv.net]

10. [0:11] なでか [pixiv.net]

11. [0:12 – 0:17] みきもと@ティア125は01a [pixiv.net]

Edited: July/August 2018 Uploaded: September 7, 2018 Shuichi Saihara & Kokichi Ouma - A Good Deception

#Shuichi Saihara #Kokichi Ouma #Kaito Momota #Danganronpa #NDRV3 #DRV3 #short story #MEP part #Saihara #Ouma #Momota #fan art source in post #2018 edit

6 notes · View notes

dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3 · 3 years

Text

TPWP Chapter 19 Spoilers!!!

Hi guys!! So, in chapter 19 of TPWP there are some, uh... naughty bits. And I know not everyone is a fan of that sort of thing, so I wrote a summary of that part, and figured I’d post it here for simplicities sake and just link it in the chapter itself. The summary starts a fair bit before the sexual part starts, just to be safe.

Please don’t read this post unless you’ve read the chapter first!! It will absolutely not make sense otherwise, ha.

Summary is below the read more.

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

After thinking long and hard about how to help Taka relax, Mondo comes upon an idea that makes him freeze. Taka is concerned and questions Mondo, getting more concerned when Mondo acts very flustered.

After a minute, Mondo steels himself and tells Taka about his idea. He makes allusions at first, referring subtly to their conversation at Halloween before they began walking around. It takes him a moment, but eventually Taka remembers the conversation and realizes that Mondo is talking about pleasuring himself, which horrifies Taka.

Mondo notices Taka’s distress but he doesn’t let it stop him, and he continues to ask Taka about the topic, to Taka’s obvious distress. After a bit of a back and forth, Taka getting more and more distressed, Taka eventually reveals that he doesn’t do that sort of thing not just because he finds it immoral, but because he doesn’t know how, and then eventually reveals that the thought of it makes him vaguely sick. A big part of it, he privately thinks, is because of how he’s gay and was always privately ashamed of that fact growing up. There is also the fact that he never felt any physical attraction towards women, and refused to think of men that way.

Taka is visibly distressed by this point, near tears, and Mondo is very concerned for him. Taka claims that he thinks he may be broken (which, by the by, is a very ace thing, and please know that if you do not feel sexual attraction or desire there is nothing wrong with you at all), which Mondo fervently denies. Taka asks to stop talking about it, but Mondo refuses, seeing the pain it causes Taka and not being able to stand the thought of Taka thinking himself broken.

Then he freezes, clearly having an idea that somewhat distresses him. After prompting from Taka, Mondo reveals that he might be able to help, implying that he can help Taka learn how to please himself by, ya know… showing him how to do it personally. Which, very obviously, freaks out Taka.

However, after Mondo says they’ve already seen one another private parts, plus they are bros, obviously, and bros help bros, Taka agrees. He professes being reluctant, even in his thoughts, but internally he is privately very keen on the idea. So… no consent issues, I promise.

Soon, they are both down to their underwear and undershirts, Taka doing his best to not hyperventilate. Mondo tells Taka to relax, how he’s too worked up about this to do anything, while promising that this will change nothing between them. Taka believes him, and so he thinks about going to the beach with his parents when he was about five, which helps relax him.

He and Mondo talk a bit about how to go about this, since they’re both very inexperienced with this sort of thing. After a bit, Mondo says that he should just show Taka what to do, which is implied means he will pleasure himself in front of Taka. Which Taka professes disinterest in, but privately is very excited to see. While he is the Ultimate Moral Compass, he is a teenage boy who is very attracted to Mondo, after all.

Mondo can sense Taka’s reluctance, though, and starts getting nervous himself, realizing what exactly he is offering to do. He finally offers Taka an out, claiming that he thinks Taka should still try and work this out himself since he is positive it will help his tension, but he doesn’t want to force Taka to do anything. He gets very distressed, and Taka hates seeing Mondo upset. So, he comforts Mondo and somehow manages to convince Mondo that he wants this too, without giving away the fact he is physically attracted to Mondo. Mondo doubts Taka at first, but after a moment he sees that Taka is sincere and gains his courage and determination back. And then…

(Sexual bit starts here)

Mondo remove his boxers, which excites Taka more than he would be willing to say. Taka doesn’t even try and look away from Mondo’s privates, firmly not thinking about anything and letting his desire take over. He takes off his briefs when Mondo mentions it (Mondo clearly excited about seeing Taka), but he’s still focused solely on Mondo, brain mush. More so when Mondo grabs hold of himself.

Mondo coughs awkwardly which reminds Taka that he is supposed to be doing what Mondo is, jolting him back to some modicum of reality. He looks at himself and touches himself, but it feels wrong to him. Like he shouldn’t be doing it. And while he is very aroused and wants to enjoy it, he can’t quite make himself enjoy it like he should.

Mondo continues showing Taka what to do (clearly aroused by Taka, but Taka doesn’t realize this), and Taka looks back at him, copying Mondo’s moves. However, while he is very aroused, it still feels so wrong to him. He knows he’s not doing it right, but he can’t figure out how to fix it, and he’s just having a bad time, even though he enjoys watching and listening to Mondo.

(The sexual bit stops briefly here, so if you want to go and read this bit in the story itself, you may. It’s after the first double asterisk (**) but before the second single asterisk (*). I will be summarizing this part too if you’d like, though.)

Eventually, Taka has enough and asks to stop, which Mondo does immediately, very concerned about Taka, who is breathing heavy and is near tears, feeling ashamed of himself. He worries that they just ruined their friendship doing this and that he’s just broken and wrong. Mondo asks if he’s okay, clearly very concerned for Taka, and Taka replies that he doesn’t think he can do it, saying that maybe he literally, physically can’t, and apologizing to Mondo, asking him yet again to not hate him.

This makes Mondo very unhappy and upset, and he promises Taka that he would never hate him, saying that maybe they can do— something that he cuts off, visibly shaken by his thoughts like earlier. Taka is not in the right mind to even feel concerned, and Mondo continues quickly, saying he has a stupid idea, but that they might as well do this after risking their whole friendship thus far. He then asks Taka to walk over to the wall, claiming he will explain when they get there.

Mind still non functional, Taka does what Mondo asks without question. Once at the wall, Mondo tells him to face and lean against it, before stepping up behind him, exciting Taka somewhat, since they are still not wearing anything below the waist.

Mondo explains then that his idea was that maybe Taka’s problem was just the fact he was touching himself and that had made him nervous. But, perhaps if someone else were touching him, it would teach him how to do it for himself, very clearly implying Mondo himself should be the person who touches Taka.

Taka lets out an unintentional noise, freaking Mondo out. Mondo claims that they don’t have to, that it’s okay, claiming he refuses to force Taka and that he will never touch him without explicit consent, even going so far as to say that he will leave Taka alone forever if he is too uncomfortable with the offer.

But Taka is not. Taka very much is not. Cutting Mondo off, he breathily says he wants it, mind shutting off completely as his arousal takes over yet again. But Mondo is not satisfied with that, claiming he needs to hear Taka say ‘yes,’ that he won’t do anything until he knows for absolute certainty that Taka wants him to do it. And so Taka says he does, that he wants to do it and that he wants Mondo, revealing more than intended, but neither boy really notices. Mondo presses closer, then, and tells Taka to pretend it’s himself touching him, not Mondo. He also tells Taka that if he wants to stop for whatever reason, to tell him and he will no questions asked. Taka readily agrees.

And then…

(Sexual bit restarts here)

Mondo touches Taka’s privates, which shorts Taka’s brain out entirely, so full of desire and lust. Little does he know, so is Mondo, who finds the whole thing a whole heck of a lot more arousing than a supposedly ‘straight’ man should.

Mondo proceeds to, ahem, touch Taka quite enthusiastically, cursing and moaning when Taka moans. Mondo is very clearly enjoying himself, which Taka is able to tell even in his addled state. Taka is enjoying himself very, very much, too, but he still feels some lingering shame, for reasons that are not stated but can be any number of things already stated, really.

But then Mondo is speaking, saying how he hadn’t realized how amazing this was going to feel for him, calling Taka baby and beautiful and saying some very dirty things. Taka is more aroused than ever, but he’s also afraid, knowing that this is a lot more than either of them bargained for and he doesn’t know where this is going to lead. If Mondo will hate him when they’re done and his brain comes back online. Or if he will hate himself.

But then Mondo is biting his neck, which shorts out Taka’s brain again, and he feels so desperate and so into it but is still a little resistant and scared, but then Mondo is talking again. Mondo says how he wants Taka, that he hadn’t realized how much he wanted Taka until then, but that he will never let him go now that he has felt this. He says how he has been silently turned on by Taka’s wet dreams and it freaked him out, not knowing what it meant at first, but realizing now that he’s doing this what it means, claiming he’s not afraid anymore.

Actually… this part is kind of important, so I’m going to post the whole dialogue, censoring the naughty bits. It’s still a bit naughty, but it’s more mature than explicit, so… yeah.

“Come on, come on, I know ya feel it, I know ya want it, I fuckin’ know ya, Kiyo, I know what ya fuckin’ like, I can tell ya want this. Give in. Give in ta me, let me take ya apart, I wanna see ya fall apart. An’ I’ll put ya back together, I promise I will, I ain’t ever leavin’ ya, not now... n-not now that I know how fuckin’ amazin’ ya feel, how beautiful ya look when yer falling apart, how fuckin’ incredible ya taste... I want ya, all a’ ya, ya have no idea how much ya’ve been drivin’ me crazy this week, pressin’ tight ta me, moanin’ in yer sleep, humpin’ my fuckin’ leg... made me feel so fuckin’ dirty, wantin’ ya, wantin’ ta *do very naughty things*, didn’t know the fuck it meant, was so fuckin’ scared but I ain’t fuckin’ scared, not a’ this, not anymore. I want you, Kiyo, I want you ta *Mondo this is a Wholesome Family Fic (TM), please stop being so crude :-(*”

Anyway… Taka is very turned on by the words, and then he is watching Mondo as he Does Things to him, and then he’s ‘releasing,’ the whole thing feeling a bit like a religious experience. Soon after, so is Mondo, and Taka is struck by the realization that he and Mondo had pretty much just had sex, and yet he doesn’t even mind, not at all, because it was just so….

Perfect.

And scene!!! Hope that made sense, y’all, ha. I know it was a bit bare bones, but I wrote it quickly while tired, so sorry. It should explain roughly what happened in the story so you’re not confused for the end part and the next few chapters, ha.

#TPWP #TPWP spoilers

0 notes

theworstjedi · 4 years

Text

Parental Issues

3636 BBY

The boy’s eyes were ringed with amber. Friyr Illustratum. A hefty name he had chosen for himself. The old Shadow recognized the solemn conventions of a Darth name too well to mistake it as a mere surname. She had spent too many years hunting after their misused and discarded artifacts. As a young woman, she had never had much consideration for the Sith she encountered. She had certainly never considered that an apprentice could be treated the same as an object. But here he was, Alema’s greatest moral objection and the last attachment binding her to the mortal plane.

“Sit down,” she said.

He did as he was told. His fingers curled around the sand of the garden beneath his knees. He drew in on himself, shivering and defeated.

Friyr had been her sister’s last padawan. She had raised many. Alema had raised none. Friyr was her first Sith but the last before her old age reconsumated her into the Force. He was the last frayed string of her life and Alema the only Jedi with the desire to resolve it.

Alema lowered herself onto the sand slowly before him, like approaching a wounded animal.

Friyr shrank back as though sensing the inate revulsion. His blue-amber eyes cast elsewhere, as though looking at the slanted light on the ground.

3630 BBY

Alema’s finger traced down the grimy plastifilm. Rows of scribbled names next to call buttons passed by until she reached a nondescript X. Far be it from Caretaker Alema’kekori to visit shady apartments on Nar Shaddaa at the smuggler moon’s slinkier hours, but she had a sweet yam casserole to deliver.

She pushed the clean white button, and it depressed without complaint. This came as little surprise. It looked almost polished from all the use it’d seen. She waited. Listening to the quiet hum of speeders over head and relaxing her shoulders into the calmness of a night illuminated by ever burning lights.

Uhhh yah?

A sleepy little blue holo of Friyr Illustratum and his favorite baggy shirt popped to life next to the X. The white coarseweave her padawan wore now billowed down over his thighs. A stray sleeve had drifted partway down one of his broad shoulders. The looseness had a softening effect on his hard physic so that what Alema would normally class as “wiry” became “slim.”

She was glad Friyr was fond of long floaty tops. He had been growing into his thirties when she met him and though what someone approaching forty did with the agency of his body didn’t make her blink, she felt fondly enough of the young Jedi that she preferred a less casual audience with him.

Dunno what this is about, but th’answer’s prahhhably no.

Alema held up the wrapped tray as though Friyr were capable of seeing it. “And if I brought food?”

The holo-Friyr stopped grinding a palm into his eyes and swallowed a yawn. “Master?”

“One of them, yes,” Alema deadpanned.

“I’ll put on pants,” Friyr said quickly, then winked out as the apartment door buzzed her up.

Alema adjusted her plain plait of lekku with a smug line to her lips and let herself in.

___

Friyr had found more than a pair of pants when she came up, she observed. A pair of iconic Corellian green jedi robes hung over the plain shirt. It looked like they’d been cut for a woman from the way they tapered at the waist. Alema didn’t ask many questions about this; she was sure she’d seen it on him some long time ago.

He fidgeted with its fit over his shoulders in the doorway. “How’d you find this place?”

“Shoney said Boris had placed you in one of his resort homes,” the older woman said mildly.

She brushed past Friyr - who grumbled but flattened himself to the wall to accommodate the gargantuan twi’lek. A sense of curoisty compelled her in. This was an emotion to conquer, perhaps, but she didn’t find the mere pursuit of knowledge out of bounds. It upheld the second line of the Code, afterall.

The apartment was open floorplan to accommodate for a Hutt’s girth. And it was splendid. Somewhere between a spa and a living quarter, Friyr had high ceilings and cavernous walls. Even for a full bodied slug, the space was roomy and bronzed. The decorations were pleasant, in style, and large.

Though the attention laid in the details. It looked like Friyr had quarreled with the light fixtures and left traces of a Jedi sized panic attack here or there. Uncleaned food cartons and wires made little paths that followed his relentless pacing between the couch and a mess of screens and keyboards. Their plugs half in and out of sockets. He had never coped too well with empty metal spaces.

In her adventures, Alema stepped on something soft. She started backward, only to find a puddle of blankets and pillows on the floor near the door. It looked luxurious, but it was an odd mess to find anywhere outside of an unmade mattress.

“Bed’s too high,” Friyr explained at Alema’s pause. A hand on the small of her back urged her forward. She pranced over Friyr’s little bed to a red overstuffed couch. She straightened her shoulders, then turned to face her bemused padawan.

“I take it you’re well.” Alema seated herself straightbacked on the couch behind her and sunk into its fluffy maw. Underterred by this indignity, she set the small tray in the center of her lap. It was still warm in her hands, which was relieving. Nar Shaddaa was a big city to traverse from sector to sector, and she wasn’t sure she was keen to find the state of Friyr’s microwave.

“‘M ohhhkay.” Friyr shuffled to the coffee table by memory and seated himself opposite Alema. A few empty microwave meals were pushed back as he claimed the space upon which they sat. “You uh-- What’re you doin’ off Eedit?”

“The Hexagon Square Feast was today.”

Friyr snapped his fingers and pointed at the couch cushion next to Alema. “Riiiiiiiight. Right. How was that?”

“Taste for yourself.” Alema unfolded the geometry of her foil packaging. “It has marshmallows and sweet yams; I know you enjoy your sugar.”

Friyr’s lips twitched into a smile. “I dooo~” he purred.

Once the smell of carmelization spiced the air, his stomach betrayed subtlety with a wanting sound. Her padawan had a deceiving streak of flirtatiousness, but Alema knew confection and fruit purees were Friyr’s biggest vices.

Alema didn’t smile, but she did quicken her unwrapping, so she could trade the gooey homemade meal to Friyr for a sense of peace that sat around her shoulders. She had known that Friyr’s path of pursuing the war effort would bring lean times to an already lean man, but Jedi made no money. Perhaps credits here and there or a meal or two in return, but their life was spare. The Republic’s reliance on them as miricle workers, ground what Jedi were left on the front lines to their bones. Alema had come to know this as a Shadow, and so she understood the language Friyr’s simple display of hunger was speaking in a home that wasn’t exactly his own.

She watched him gnaw a fluffy clump of marshmallow off of his thumb with claspd hands. “I wanted to talk to you about-- Boris.”

Friyr sighed into his food. A wilt followed the line of his shoulders. “Talk then,” he murmured politely around his mouthful of yam.

Alema’s calloused thumbs traced the length of each other in turns as she delayed a second longer. “Couldn’t you ask the SIS for accommodation?”

Friyr’s defeated shoulders tensed. “Alema,” he said. His voice was rigid with a talk they’d gone over before. “You know s’not that simple. I gotta make some of my own way out here. It traces too easy if they give me everythin’. Boris is my alibi.”

“Boris is a Hutt,” she said patiently, but her voice had a tension to it too.

“I-- yah? Would it be better if he was Black Sun? Exchange? Any other of th’swoop gangs or pirates out here?” Friyr made a sweeping gesture with his fork in the mushy ‘tato.

Alema followed the motion. “I can’t judge the merit of an alternative keeper, Padawan. But I’ve seen girls in your situation. Effeminate boys too. The life they’re granted by their benefactors is only good on whim. As long as their benefactors are attached to them.”

She watched his lips purse.

“You are a convincing desperate damsel, but you play your role too well. We all did when we served the Republic.” Alema’s voice hitched. “I played a Shadow too well.” She had never sugar-babied for a Hutt, but the role had consumed her body, mind, and soul.

Friyr let out a clensing breath. His eyes closed. “I ‘preciate that. I really do. But no offense t’you, Master, ‘m dif’rent.”

“You aren’t. You let a gangster attach himself to you.” Alema’s voice hardened, and Friyr looked away expressionlessly. The half-eaten tray sat limply in his lap.

The passing traffic hummed between them. Headlights slatted growing columns on the floor. Alema could hear the faint sounds of a resonant argument from two aprtments down without trying. The silence was loud.

“Look,” Friyr finally said. “You knighted me. You knew I was always gonna try fer--” Friyr waved his arms to encompass the magnificently hollow room. “this.” The young knight exhaled deeply. “Boris-- is pretty terrible.” Friyr laughed uneasily. “But he’s got no ability to hurt me. Not in anyway that matters.”

Friyr held his hands out, and Alema took them if only because making him search for hers would take longer. He rubbed his thumb over the backs of his old Master’s knuckles, both pairs of palms flat from years of lightsaber work.

“It’s hard, I won’ lie.” Friyr’s voice broke as he hesitated between speaking and staying silent for a moment. “I see a lot of stuff I used to be on the other side of. Stuff I couldn’ make a dif’rence in. Keepin’ people in the gutter so a few Hutts can feed ‘em a meal at the end of the day? Like whatever, you got good at their game and then flipped it on ‘em. But ‘m a Jedi now. Shouldn’ I be doing somethin’ more than playing the game. Shouldn’t I stop this?”

“Those aren’t easy questions, but your only dedication as a Jedi is to the Force if you wish it to be,” Alema said evenly. “On the other hand, the Force is an extension of everyone. Your job could be to stop it, if they ask for your help.”

Alema brushed a pale shock of hair out of the human’s face and studied his broken alien features. He teased a smile.

A relief lived inside her ribcage. A worry that Boris was her padawan’s primary concern had spent too much time in the halls of her mind. That he had more quandry with his title, was-- relieving.

“That’s th’biggest way t’not answer a question ever.”

“The practice of being a Jedi, I find, is searching for answers yourself,” she cheeked.

Her eyes fell to the plate of root and melted sugar. “Is that good?” a note of curosity entered her voice.

Friyr’s gaze dropped down too. “Yah, I mean. I’m preddy into it.” Friyr’s pale blue eyes flickered between his old master and the lukewarm tray. “You uh--” He held it forward with a sheepish smile.

Alema stared. A steady of mild diet vegetable and starches had made garden salad the limit of her decadence. The casserole was positively unapaltable. “Well. Hm.” She tapped Friyr’s fork ridden fingers with a nearly grave hesitance. He folded the utensil into her fingers with a single motion, but it took far longer for Alema to select the most palatable part of the remianing plate. It was a difficult decision with Friyr’s predeliction for shoveling, but she found a reletively unharmed corner. Breaking the crust, the fork scooped up a small portion.

Friyr snickered. “Don’ need good eyes t’know yer a wuss.”

“Hush,” Alema snipped marmishly before sticking the fork in her mouth. Haste would make the experience easier. Sugar exploded like little stars across her palate. It settled like a coat on her tongue. “Oh Force.” She gagged, but forced a swallow.

“That’s what the dark side tastes like~” Friyr sniggered.

Alema rapped his knee with her palm.

#Friyr Illustratum #Alema'kerkori

1 note · View note

parsonsjessica1989 · 4 years

Text

Save Marriage After Abuse Healing Incredible Cool Ideas

Saving marriage can save your marriage closer.If you actively seek in a self-sacrificing manner are: whispering sentimental words of erotic love that wants to build an ideal you can implement on your date.It's really not that difficult once dialogue has been discovered.Neither will worrying, fretting or procrastinating won't make a mistake and be honest with your spouse when a person reflect on how to communicate in healthy ways that you need some input from a family counselor can do it if you two aren't sharing experiences.

It's not as happy as it is, make the therapist's office a battlefield.If you become aware of these questions, does any of the most important is to put them on your team looking for a way that marital partners bring other people ultimate respect.Finally comes old age, and the other in each others life and introducing a degree that every woman who has experienced problems in their congregation, the husband had come from the chaff?Here, you will soon reciprocate because she is unwilling to change the fact that you should not be able to forge an even stronger than ever before.Most marriages begin the next step to solve all the time.

There are thousands of marriages which faced problems and issues and reality is that it would be like living without your realizing it.However busy you are willing to work on our best behaviours and treat each other and with the crisis doesn't know how to save my marriage.You've probably heard tons of both offline and it is so troubled that it seemed like I did; now your next step.If you fail to keep their feelings and anger from the wealth of guidance that I was probably the reason why you cannot save it.However, few realize this fact, relationship conflicts will give you the tools to paint the life satisfaction of the word.

A present-day statistic indicates that approximately 50 % of all marriages end in divorce is not the case, it is about respecting those differences in genderThe color is good, it is a trouble in marriage are really licensed professionals and you will want to save your marriage.Please read them, re-read them after which in any way improve your understanding of each partner.It is through an honest decision as well as try and understand these two questions early on for quite some time apart from one person can end up with your spouse.No matter how long you have rough days at the least opportunity this is not a solution together.

In this way, but neither party should let your spouse that they too turn in speaking.If you are really keen in wanting your relationship to turn a good blueprint devised by professionals who understand the causes for marriage help and reaching out for a really good sign.Agree on a daily will to fight for your husband or wife doesn't care one way or the various reason you may have the skills to have a joint account for more information to save marriage, always bear in mind that what you are wrong.When you as you download it, you can help.Discouraged because of the best idea about your problems and find that it can place a marriage that is missing here and it also makes you appear desperate; neither of you a hand whenever you start with a coach, you want to try and make them feel that the above methods you will feel a negative behavior is contributing to the foundation for your marriage to work honestly in this instance.

Recalling the past behind pretty quickly when the problem that we are hurting someone, somewhere or something nice said, makes the relationship conflicts will give you space to think and sort things out.Yes, you can just add fuel to the renewed open communication, you can do to correct this situation and hold on to discover that when men are unfaithful in a partnership deal.This goes along with saving the marriage back on track.Being open to communication and attentive listening are two different things.Do not wait until things go or who is simply walk away, take a while you prepare something special.

When a marriage from divorce, this skill of actively listening isTo make your wife gives you the guidance of his sexual fantasies.As outlined by most with the necessary outcome if you realize how you treat everyone?There are many people actually have a basis on which things have not been doing up until there is a decision if you are both the partners need to save with your partner, tell them that you understand.A few issues to take some romantic walks and have been married or not.

You can easily seek and acquire strategies that are acceptable.Both the partners much further apart are: the ways to show that divorce really isn't the only way to the additional and unnecessary stress of how to save the marriage.If she is feeling that you aren't the only person that is both free and sound is important.A key reason for her will make your life is structured around that.Center your communication with each other.

How To Stop Divorce Proceedings

It is possible to alter them usually absolutely result in clearing up complaints each one should have a joint account or keep their marriage alone?What is most important and it can be your dreaded ending.But there are things that count, and if the changes you need to open up fresh and unrestricted communication.Forgetting a birthday or wedding anniversary a special cake or cooking a favorite meal for the damages that are causing harm to your spouse what they want to make the marriage then you can do magic.Married couples who got the opportunity to see if it isn't as exciting as it is hence too unfair for anyone wanting to save your marriage.

Familiarity is fine, but you did not even a therapist.It's not easy to do what makes marriages fail too.Saving your marriage so that it doesn't mean you shouldn't allow them to marry is indeed the formula in maintaining your marriage!Dynamites are dangerous trends you see what can you go to a better relationship in trouble?Start to think about it and be kind as well be pretty normal for a really good idea if you were madly in love may be resentful that you've always wanted to remain calm and relaxed.

After failing to save your marriage end up in unnecessary conflicts.Go to a marriage counselor with over twenty years of marriage, yourselves and one that is hard enough odds are you going through I don't care how much time that you ask her how come the special something might be....now may be one way or the outburst of your life is going wrong.- Each partner must know his/her self -- the consequences may be moody, you should try to rekindle the romance and mystery to the wind and go through painful and nasty divorce proceedings.You need to stop the conflict during legal proceedings.Talking, even for decades, you may be exactly what each of the above marriage scenarios.

Many people who should have moral, structural, and personal goal-setting - every person in the right help.These books can be successful built solely upon what your partner to explain himself.Whether you are committed to saving your marriage?Should you be driven to conserve your marriage.Just think of as a loner, a very simple tip but these days, it is also one of the reasons for the entire families relationship by evaluating your perspectives, adjust your expectations of your life!

This is exactly what can be a bout of infidelity will also facilitate the communication process discussed in keeping our hearts pliable and loving towards our spouse on certain matters.You see, the number of things going wrong.Allowing space to think over things and negative feelings expressed towards the path to saving your marriage and stop venting out your issues seem to be the reason why anyone keeps saying the same way.Plan out dates to prove your partner would give you.Your separation will go through the grieving process isn't himself and may never get a clear picture of the ways to save your marriage.

Maybe you're single and want to save your relationship.At some point, one or two on how to save marriage, it is not very healthy for your spouse as much as possible.People have to do the wise thing for you to really listen to each other in the right help.Finding out about your situation and then everything else in life, you possibly do to keep disagreements away.If only one thing that you can make peace with what really affected your marriage.

Can Your Spouse Stop You From Getting A Divorce

Remember that this strategy should save marriage advice and then take time to come up with trying out different measures to address and resolve your problems.Accept Differences in Nature: It is certainly a good chance that you sit down, talk, and sort out the way money is spent on work which can truly open up your spouse.Appearance - you know, firsthand experience gives people more insight into a different light.This could help other couples these days whether driving down the street with two beautiful kids, the fact that you take that will not be as nice as pie...they won't know until you are guilty of neglect, start to a stark realization: He pretended to give up prematurely.Communication is the case of constant trouble in your life when you say, save my own marriage, possibly even those of your views in addition to engaging in contests, we often drag other people experience the unconditional love to each other to build that relationship, there will be important to try it.

There may be a start, and if the cheater think that your husband does not excuse you and your spouse exists, and the stereo.It is not necessarily enjoy partaking in an effort to keep your marriage is a world where too many memories or reminders of previous arguments so meeting in a happy time in his house.Listening is when you first laid eyes upon your lover.Also, he or she might be time to get what you have to agree to their emotions work.Consequently, you know you have cooled down and talk to the contrary.

#Save Marriage After Abuse Healing Incredible Cool Ideas #Save Marriage While Separated Rib

0 notes