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lee-scribbles-and-doodles · 3 years

Text

S3 ep5

Current emotional status: FEAR

Cthulu Max has been on the rampage for a whole week!?

Ew, the narrator

Oh man, are they sending the airforce after him?

I really like Cthulu Max's design

Momma Bosco 💗

Oh hey, Norrington and Papierwaite are alive.

Superball are you saying you tried to send the Maimtrons up Max's--

Also he's acting president while Max is... deposed of.

Superball is only giving Sam until 6am :(

Featherly!

"Wandering around the moleman tunnels is no fun without Max."

"You got it all wrong, we're trying to help Max." "We will help him... to a generous serving of ass whooping."

"That is one rabbit who will be multiplied... into 2,000 smoldering pieces."

Carol ran off with Blustet

"I only want her to be happy, is all." Aw, Curt

Superball just admitted to having separation anxiety from Max

Ok Momma can't come but Papierwaite and Norringron can.

I like Norrington :)

GASP

Is it?

It is!

SYBIL!!!!

RETURN OF THE QUEEN

Oh, she is very pregnant

She was a wizard at one point?

She's gonna help!

Superball there's no such thing as acceptable losses

Abe has his body back

"Four score and seven tons of raw power"

HE CAN FLY NOW!?

Sybil, I love you, but why did you mod someone else's car???

Grandpa Stinky I love you

Oh, he just handed us the recipe for once.

Asdfff the spore maxes swarming Grandpa

They stole Grandpa's hotdogs

"We must feed the host! Piglets and sphinkters make us stronger!" "We regret nothing!"

Grandpa hasn't slept in three years

Sam just casually taking the last of Grandpa's corndogs

The spores are trying to get it

Lol Sam slapped them

Sal's alive!

He's hiding from Sam :(

Lol we can control Cthulu Max with Corndogs

Ew, the cornstarch got mixed in with the giant puddle 🤢 Looks gross

Love how Sybil completely ignores the Flaming Max head

Also the look of disappointment on the spore's face made me laugh

Fifth trimester???

The way the one Max spore by Grandpa's truck is bobbing in circles with his mouth open is making me laugh.

Sam showing concern for Sybil because she’s preggers 🥺

Her being pregnant with Abe's child implies that statues have working genital in this universe

She put a weiner scented airfreshener in the desoto

At least Sam and a Max spore seem to like that (of course they do)

"Sybil you're the best!" Hell yeah she is!

Sam's mind went to the color bar codes to prevent being traumatized by Sybil's oversharing

We drowned the desoto

Asdfgh Sam just botched slapped one of the spores for trying to say "that's none of your damn buisness."

Ew, Max's spine is pointing out

Oh hey, Satan and Jurgen

Why is Jurgen wearing his old fashioned clothes instead of his emo clothes?

Lol Sam snuck into frame to shout "Go Mets! New York rules!"

"--besides it's just a good and noble thing to do." "You're not familiar with my previous work, are you?"

"Sam, what happened to you to make you so cynical?" Gee, Jurgen, I wonder what could have possibly happened.

Oh so the water tower counts as vegetable oil because Momma did something to it

Pfft we can replace Satan's microphone with a corndog

Omg they jumped off the building to avoid Max

Oh, they're fine, and the oil is in the giant puddle.

I'm thankful to Featherly for giving us an egg but I'd have preferred not to watch him lay it. Granted it was just in a cartoon way but he still made weird noises

Also TRANS FEATHERLY 2021

"I desperately wanted to see that, sir. Ask him if he'll lay another one."

Oh hey, the Flaming Max heads helped heat up the giant desoto corndog

Since I'm playing this in 2021 the Maimtron's song references are super dated, which defeats Superball's efforts

Oooh! A unique opening sequence???

Oh this music is jazzy af

Sam really doesn't like the Max spores

Sam how do you already know what Max's insides look like???

"Even when he's not a collasal monster Max's food comas can last for weeks."

Ok we wake Max up with the coffee beans, right?

Yup!

The gi Max spore is so sad he doesn't get to come 😢

"But I'm a horrible monster!"

"I suppose Max's brain always looks like a living room?" "Well, Max is host to all kinds of weird parasites, and he likes to he a good host!" WHAT

No really, this brings up so many questions about lagomorphs. Are they some kind of Symbiote or something?

And a previous episode confirmed Max is amphibious

Max has tumors!!!

It shocked Sam!

"Eugh! Get away fake Max!" "Do you find my warmth... alarming, Sam?"

"What do nightmares taste like, anyway?" "Pepsi"

Max wants to be author 💗

He also writes fanfiction about Flint 🤣

I'd unironically read his books.

Tina Belcher voice: Friend fiction

Max has an experimental fusion jazz band???

"He just killed a great white shark--"

Max being completely unable to describe a woman is very gay of him. Good for him.

Max's brain teleported everyone to different parts of the body.

Found Sybil in the gym/legs

The brain is broadcasting Sam's thoughts???

Sam couldn't think of a joke for the medicine balls :(

"Wow Max is looking pretty buff. Would it be too weird if I asked him to turn around?"

Sam! Stop thinking bad things about Sybil's pregnancy she can hear you you putz!

She's upset with him now

"Can you believe this guy?" "I find the entire situation to be very contrived and misogynistic." Same spore Max, same.

Sam stop being so mean omg!

"I changed Sybil, I totally get the whole parenthood thing now." "Really now?" "Tax deductions."

In Max's inventory now

Y'know, I never really thought about it as a storage house

Hit The Road reference :3

Baby roach hatched in

"Pa..papa?" "Now I am little champion, now I am!"

Max has a Maximus shrine

Sam turned into a roomba!

Aw, he named it Sam Jr 🥺

We won Sybil back through his love of Sam Jr

Found the conjoined twins

Huh, Max lost as eye. Does that mean he has a glass one, or do lagomorphs have regenerative abilities?

Pfft we have to play twister to control his arma

The brain is messing with things again

Oh, we need a roach to operate the game because of radiation

Well, let's kidnap Sal

Oh, poor Girl Stinky. She's really going through it

Aw, Sal feels bad

Sal?

Honey, are alright?

He's dying???

He's not immune to irradiation!?

Oh no, he's gone

I'm so sad 😞

Gotta pick up Sam Jr. Before I control Max

They mad Max do a magical girl pose

Ugh the narrator is back

Wait, what?

He's Max's brain??? SUPEREGO???

WHAT

"I was always ignored" Yo if my super ego was as pretentious as you I 'd ignore it too 😤

He wants to kill himself and Max???

I know Max had a self loathing complex but holy shit

The super ego is perfectly fine with destroying half the east coast what a jerk

Just noticed Sam's tie is red. Had no idea about this while drawing PI!Sam lol

We have to help Max get his memories back to use the ASTRO projector

Skunkapes has three Sam clones imprisoned

Sam had canon ocd?

Gasp Gordon???

No, it's Sammun Mak

I love him, little child tyrant

Just make him a mobile brain in a jar and let Sam and Max adopt him

Why is Grandpa here?

He isn't talking like Stinky

Too polite

Sam sees it too

He's a space gorilla

They switched brains?

Found the cloning g chamber

Let's go to Momma's first

CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME CONE OF SHAME

Superball is "wracked with guilt"

"Keep it together Superball. Sam will be able to save the day. He always does."

Ok, let's go to the cloning facility

I'm still thinking about poor Sal yo

FLIIIIIINT!

He's punching space apes!

Girl Stinky really playing up the evil Mistress role

The doggleganger has a bomb on him!!!

Wait so Girl really is a mermaid??? I thought that was just her aestetic

God I love Flint

Haha we tricked Skunkape with scooby doo villain tactics

Got the robot

Her water broke... and it was pennies

Max wants to save Sybil! 😭🥺💕

Super Ego is here

Oh now he wants to save Max

The only thing here are those records

Super Ego waved goodbye

Cthulu Max is cute when he cries

Wait What?

His head is on fire!

The maimtron hit him!

He waved goodbye... and teleported away.

He exploaded!!!!

He promised he'd take Sam with him and he didn't!!!!

AAAAAAH

I thought the dead Max thing was popular angst fanon fic thingy!

We're cloning Max?

It didn't work 😭😭😭😭😭

Superball ran off crying

Oh God the credits are just Sam walking sadly what the hell

He's not even stopping to fight any crime 😢

💔💔💔

God the way he's clinging to himself

What?

The elevator???

MAAAAX

he's back???

Past Max???

He blew his Sam up???

Wait hold on I'm glad they're together again but this doesn't fix anything

There's so much trauma from this season

All the horrible things that happened during 301-304 happened in like 3 days tops, then Sam had to deal with Max being a monster for a week before watching him die!

And the new (?) Max had BLOW HIS SAM UP!!!

And they left the franchise like that for a decade????

What the hell?

I want to be happy but this shit is going to consume my brain for the next week at least what the hell

Aaaaaaah!

Like maybe they really do just brush it off but it feels unlikely

I know Max has a connection with his other selves so it'll be easier for him to adjust but certainly Sam is going to notice the discrepancies since he doesn't get the same deal

Someone told me there were multiple endings hold on

Aw, they walked off into the sunrise together

But still

AAAAAAAAH

#sam and max #freelance husbands #sam and max freelance police #sam & max #sam & max freelance police #freelance police #lee plays sam and max #305 #what the hell #flint paper #agent superball #momma bosco #sybil pandemik #sal s&m #general skun ka'pe #girl stinky #sammun mak #don't @ me I'm crying

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genuflectx · 3 years

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Axiom’s End

This is a little review of an AMAZING book I just finished reading that exophilia lovers (and just sci-fi lovers in general) may enjoy to get in on, if not already!

Parts of this review will have spoilers, but I will place the spoilery review under a cut (though some basic plot premises are discussed before the cut, they are not major spoilers)! So if you want a quick review read on, and for the more detailed spoilery review check under the cut. It includes a small snip of one page of the book to hopefully entice you.

When it comes to books my search for truly engaging alien novels has been... a waste of time at best. And this story here simply didn’t pop up under my searches for, er, alien human romance novels, so you likely won’t find it by searching that either. I only discovered it by seeing the sparse fanart of it on Tumblr, which made me read it’s synopsis on wikipedia and wonder how on EARTH I had not come across this yet, as a terato blog.

So, Axiom’s End is a first contact story, but it is character driven, and all the characters (especially the main cast) are emotional and well developed. However I have a warning some may want to heed; it is existential and is aware of it. If you can’t handle a heavy feeling of dread, which several chapters tend to exude, might not be the story for you.

Do you like creepy, deathly still dragon-insect-robots with questionable morals staring you down? Ohhh boy, I sure do. The main alien character, Ampersand, and his species, are not humanoid. They are in the sense of having two arms two legs two eyes, etc, but otherwise are distinctly different and alien and- did I mention Ampersand is 9 feet tall? And some of his species are even taller? Woof. There aren’t any re-colored humans with four arms and a six pack here.

Through the story the main human Cora plays as Ampersand’s interpreter, being the only one who has the means to understand him. That means they are required to be rather... close. The juxtaposition between her human inflections and idea of ethics greatly clashes with Ampersand’s own blunt way of speaking and concept of right or wrong. When you’ve lived so many hundreds of years and have advanced nearly beyond comprehension that’ll do it to ya. How she and the alien get along and what the talk about is something I’ll leave under the cut. All you need to know is I friggin’ loved it. Best thing yet, book 2 comes out this October and is open for preorder!!

NOW, SPOILER TIME:

^ Random page of the book of Cora and Ampersand speaking. ^

Ellis wanted to make this species nearly incomprehensible to human values, and god did she do it, and somehow even managed to do it while still making you love-hate them. Ampersand (and by extension his people) are so clinical and “logical” that they will lie by omission and not say sorry when found out, because if it benefited him why should he? Though we don’t dig into the other aliens’ personalities much, so I’ll focus on Amper.

Ampersand is hundreds and hundreds of years old, living through torture, surviving an alien planet, suffering the feeling of death when Cefo killed himself (and, later, when the 2nd one dies). He is, beneath a cold exterior, damaged and emotional, perhaps at first even attempting to pretend he wasn’t (through cold indifference) until Cora challenged him. He is manipulative, a walking contradiction, and at the end of it all, hiding his vulnerability. As an example, at one part closer to the end he lashes out when Cora is angry at him, and later expresses, to the best of his species abilities, a regret for his anger. So he KNOWS he has emotional flaws, but doesn’t start really admitting them till maybe ehh 75% into the book, roughly.

As we move through the story he goes from being so afraid of Cora that he keeps a ten foot distance and freezes when she looks at him, to not needing to be told twice before curling up beside her on a hospital bed. Even if he didn’t see humans as persons, he clearly did not want the planet to be destroyed by his people, and that does show a level of empathy for humans outside of Cora. Or... it could all be coldly logical to him (humans pose no real threat, thus, it would be illogical to warrant a genocide of the Earth- or is that just what he might tell himself?).

As you read you’ll begin to feel like Cora. The back and forth feeling of wanting to know more, of wanting to apply humanity to Ampersand and his people, but then getting ice water in your face when his actions remind you that he is in no way human. We may never fully understand the depth or shallowness of his empathy, and perhaps the closest thing comes in his immediate response to Cora of I do value you and his carefulness with petting her to comfort her. Though, even then, this statement does not express clear cut emotion. “Value” to Ampersand is not “value” to a human. Is she valued as a thing/asset or as a person?

Also to make this clear since you came all this way for spoilers. Though I don’t know just how deeply it goes, or how synonymous it is to human romantic relationships, Cora and Ampersand become a thing by the end. The closest they could come to a romantic relationship, at least, with Ampersand bonding to Cora and snuggling up with her on a bed.

I yap about Ampersand enough (he’s cool but not the only main character!!). Cora has her own traumas and issues outside of Ampersand. I imagine they will be expanded further in the second book, as in the first book her family trauma is mostly directed around she and her aunt. She had feelings and painful memories of her father, but in book 1 her father is a distant person, affecting the course of the story but she’s too far away (and busy) to have the means to confront him. And the rest of her family are in custody till the end, leaving them as a motivation for Cora, though nothing she can deal with immediately due to their distance. So while she has a LOT to go through book one is very alien-focused, with parts dedicated to Cora and her aunt, and her father as a far-off figure who changes the story but is never directly there in front of Cora. However, with the synopsis of book 2 already out, it’s clear her father may become even more of a plot point, with Cora being made to meet Nils’s informant.

Not only do I love this story as a terato fan, but it’s the only book I have devoured in three days. It kept me wanting to know what would happen next because I was so attached to everyone. Ellis is very thorough and this world is huge- a cumulation of a 10 year old story she’s had, only come to fruition in 2020. I CANNOT wait for book two! It comes out THIS OCTOBER and I will absolutely be pre-ording it!!

#terato #exophilia #axiom's end #ampersand #books

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elwenyere · 3 years

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Deck the Halls

(Steve/Tony fluff, in which the Avengers make their own holiday decorations, and it goes about as well as you would expect)

Also on AO3

“Okay,” Tony said, “I am willing to admit that putting repulsors on the Iron Man ornaments was not my best idea.”

He paused to duck as a pillow, half a molasses crinkle, and what looked suspiciously like a tranquilizer dart flew at him from three different locations in the Avengers common room.

“But I maintain,” he continued from behind the couch, “that the underlying principle of the design is both technologically sound and aesthetically adorable. Also, refs, can I get a rule check on ‘no using knock-out techniques on your teammates’?”

“If I wanted you knocked out, you’d be dreaming of sugar plums right now,” Natasha called out from somewhere behind a makeshift barricade of packages and wrapping-paper rolls. One of the tiny Iron Men buzzed over her head, sending a barrage of dime-sized repulsor blasts at a Rudolph gift bag, and Natasha shot the ornament out of the air with her Widow’s Bites.

“Also, calling in the refs is a pretty bold move,” Bruce added, “considering that the miniature murder bots guarding our Christmas tree are in flagrant violation of rules ten through fifteen.”

Bruce’s voice was slightly distorted by the walls of his blanket fort, which Steve had suggested building as an anti-Hulking measure when the first wave of ornaments flew off their branches and into attack formation. So far the strategy had proved successful, with only one close call after Thor almost collided with the fort during an enthusiastic mid-air tackle.

“Remind me never to do holiday dinners with you guys again,” Rhodey groaned. He was crouched next to Tony behind the couch opposite Steve’s, and Steve could hear the faint whir of the War Machine gauntlet as he scanned the room. “I could be falling asleep on my couch to the Vince Guaraldi Trio, and instead I’m hiding from an army of weaponized Christmas figurines.”

“When you’re subpoenaed for the inevitable senate hearing about this, just remember: it was all Steve’s fault,” Tony advised.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Steve replied, adding an eye roll that he knew Tony would hear in his voice.

It was true that Steve had been the one to suggest that they make their own decorations for the Tower this year. But it was also true that Steve’s contribution (a hand-drawn series of family holiday cards to hang on the fridge) had been the only one that hadn’t tended to produce chaos. Thor and Natasha’s idea to braid garlands had started out innocently enough. But then they’d decided to add “motivational mead” to the creative process. Ten hours later, they’d produced so many strings of spruce, holly, and taffeta that the garlands had to be looped around every available surface, twisting around lamps and chair legs until the common room looked like it was being slowly strangled to death by a festive boa constrictor. Bruce – in a complete failure to learn from the previous Halloween’s Saltwater Taffy Incident – had concocted a spiced eggnog so addictively good that each new batch he made disappeared almost immediately – setting off a cycle of recrimination and dairy-based hoarding. And Clint had stayed true to form by making an extremely explicit, themed pin-up calendar of himself, which had been quickly banned from all common areas by a 4-2 vote (“I think these poses are courageous,” Thor had explained, “considering your very small human sizes”).

“Blame is assigned by the survivors, Stark,” Natasha said evenly. Her face darted into view at one end of her barricade, next to a box wrapped in “Hulk Smash!” paper. “And if we don’t get these ornaments contained before Bruce’s chocolate pecan pie has to come out of the oven, I can’t guarantee that anyone in this room will qualify.”

“How many left, JARVIS?” Tony asked.

“Just three, sir,” the crisp voice replied. “And my sensors indicate they are all locked in a standoff with the large stuffed hedgehog on the lower floor.”

“Do I have to ask?” Rhodey muttered.

“It’s for Pepper,” Tony explained, “a running gag: she thinks it’s hilarious.”

“We should set a trap to draw out the remaining ornaments,” Steve decided. “I want eyes on the perimeter – where the hell is Clint anyway?”

As if on cue, a grappling arrow shot across the room and latched onto the side of a container of eggnog. The metal wire attached to the hook pulled taut and then retracted with a sharp twang, yanking the eggnog over their heads and back into the air vent.

“You have a problem, man!” Rhodey yelled after Clint’s feet as they slithered away from the opening in the ducts. “Get help!”

“Ah that gives me an idea!” Thor exclaimed. He popped his head up from behind the kitchen counter, where he had apparently been braiding one of the garlands into his hair. “The tiny Iron Soldiers seem determined to guard the spirit of the holidays. Perhaps we can use that to our advantage.”

“Right,” Tony agreed, “cover me.”

He stood up and strode toward the Christmas tree, gauntlet charging.

“Come out, my tiny, murderous robot sons,” Tony called, “or I’m going to turn your favorite tree into a pile of toothpicks.”

“Did you actually equip them with audio sensors? Or are you just grandstanding?” Rhodey asked.

“Kind of stepping on my moment here, Gumdrop,” Tony replied.

And whether it was because the ornaments had somehow sensed a threat to the tree or because they had successfully subdued all the stuffed animals in the vicinity, Steve’s ears suddenly picked up the low whine that meant hostile décor was incoming. As Tony held his position, Steve saw Natasha, Rhodey, and Thor leap out from cover and take aim at the three diminutive Iron Men that were shooting toward their creator’s head.

“Tony!” Steve yelled, and Tony let out a small yelp of surprise as Steve tackled him sideways onto the couch. Steve curled his body protectively around Tony’s, and he threw up his shield just in time to shelter them from the disintegrated ornaments, which fell like a shower of harmless glitter into a halo around their heads.

Steve cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks flush slightly as a chunk of armor the size of a pea pattered onto the couch next to them with a barely audible fizzle.

“My hero,” Tony smirked.

“A bit overdramatic, Rogers,” Thor observed.

“Ooooooh, Captain America!” Clint called in a high-pitched voice from a nearby vent. “You’re so dreamy. Will you sign my chest?”

A chorus of boos and a smattering of tossed cookies followed Clint’s laughing retreat back through the ducts.

“So I’m thinking the Mark II ornaments should come with a fail-safe button,” Tony mused, looking up at Steve with his head still resting in the crook of Steve’s arm.

“Tony,” Steve sighed.

“What?” Tony asked with exaggerated innocence. “I have models for the whole team. There’s even a little Cap ornament with magnets for the hug and fly.”

Steve chewed his bottom lip.

“Are you trying not to smile?” Tony asked.

“I’m trying to contain my disapproval,” Steve replied.

“You’re trying not to smile,” Tony confirmed. “Let it out, Steve. I’m objectively delightful.”

“You’re objectively a threat to national security,” Steve retorted.

“Yeah, and you love it,” Tony nodded. “That’s like…your number one turn on.”

Steve finally allowed a smile to spread across his face. In the part of his mind that was always scanning his periphery, he was aware of Natasha helping Bruce out of his blanket fort and picking a piece of lint out of his hair – her hand lingering a little longer than necessary as Bruce assured her he had a backup pie in the fridge. Rhodey and Thor were loudly concocting plans to smoke Clint out (and pointedly ignoring Clint’s own contributions from the vent above them). And in the center, as always, was Tony, who was grinning victoriously as he took in Steve’s expression.

“You’re right,” Steve told him. “I do love you.”

Tony's smile froze in momentary surprise and then softened.

“This is how you want to say that for the first time?” he asked teasingly, his hands coming up to brush at Steve’s sides just above the hem of his jeans. “On the couch, surrounded by our catcalling friends and the scorched remains of the homicidal holiday ornaments I created?”

“Yep,” Steve answered, leaning down to kiss Tony’s forehead. “I love that you make messes,” a kiss on the right cheek, “I love that you invite messes to move in,” a kiss on the left cheek, “I love that since I met you, you’ve made every mess of mine your mess too,” a final kiss – as gentle as Steve could make it – on Tony’s lips. “I love you, Tony.”

He pulled back so he could look into Tony’s eyes and watch the rapid play of emotion across his face – always too fast to track.

“I love you too, you big sap,” Tony replied, and as the team whooped and set off a round of Christmas crackers, he pulled Steve back down by the front of his Iron Man sweater.

#stony #stevetony #stony fanfiction #festive ficlet #avengers as family #domestic avengers #avengers tower #this got a little cracky #they're human disasters your honor #happy holidays #thank you for reading

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octanesimp3000 · 3 years

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The Bunny, The Decoy and the Apex Games #7

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034451/chapters/80096569

Summary:

Just when you thought your fake relationship with Octavio was running smoothly, a brief tussle with your feelings threatens to break the bond that you two have built over the past couple weeks.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6

————————————————————————–

“So Octane, can you tell us what compelled you to confess your feelings to Ms. Y/L/N during that game? Weren’t you worried that an enemy squad might try and catch you off-guard?”

You sat with your legs crossed and your back straight in the hard chair that had been provided by the news station. The interviewer had finally stopped tiptoeing around the subject and got to the point of why you and Octavio had been invited today to this interview. You weren’t worried this time though. The previous day, the Syndicate had made sure that they’d run through every possible question that could be asked about your ‘relationship’ several times, and the both of you were ready for anything coming your way.

Octavio pretended to give his answer a moment’s thought, scratching his nose through his mask while his right bionic leg bounced the entire time. He didn’t do too well with staying still for long periods of time unless he was asleep or knocked out cold as one could expect from the high-speed daredevil. He finally spoke up, saying “Well, we kinda fought a bit before then. Y/N was worried that I was being too, uh...reckless! I got a bit annoyed at that cause I’m Octane, duh. But then, I realized she was only worried ‘cause she cares about me and I think that’s when I knew I had to tell her I cared about her too, you know?”

You reached out to take Octavio’s hand into yours, smiling over at him as sweetly as you could muster for the cameras. “I don’t think Octane was really thinking about enemy squads then. I know I wasn’t,” you said to the interview with a small laugh. As the interviewer launched into their next question about whether your relationship has brought any changes to those with the other Legends in the Apex Games, you felt Octavio gently drawing shapes on the top of your hand with his thumb. You felt your cheeks flush at the sensation but you handled the question with confidence and poise.

After a few more questions, the interview finally ended. You and Octavio climbed into the back of the black sedan sent by the Syndicate that would take you back to the dropship, feeling relieved that it had gone well. “That was kinda fun. I didn’t think you were gonna just grab my hand like that,” Octavio said before pulling his mask down to take a gulp of water from a plastic bottle.

“I thought the audience might find it cute. Do you think they’re gonna buy it?,” you asked with a satisfied grin. Octavio placed the bottle of water into the small compartment by the car door and turned to you with a thoughtful expression, his cheeks tinted pink. After a moment’s thought, Octavio merely responded with a shrug even though he definitely looked as if he’d wanted to say something and took out his phone from his pocket to play some new game he’d downloaded.

Disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm at your genius, you folded your arms across your chest and gazed out of the window as the car sped past the ruins of the Capitol City. So much history had happened here and now, it had been created into a killer playground for a game that people all around the world tuned in to.

As the sedan began to approach the roped-off area where the zip line that would take you up to the dropship’s entrance was situated, you could see the crowd of fans being held back by security. You could see several cardboard signs being held up that were drawn on with markers that said stuff like “I LOVE YOU, OCTANE” and “I WANNA GO FAST FAST FAST WITH YOU” which you honestly hoped was in the hands of an adult. Some were also wearing your merchandise with your signature quip printed over it.

Once the sedan had slowed to a stop in front of the fancy red carpet that would take you to the zip line, you opened the car door and stepped out. You were waving at the crowd which started cheering loudly when you suddenly felt Octavio, who had been standing to your left, suddenly slip his hand into yours. You turned to him with a surprised expression and Octavio leaned in close to your ear, whispering “Gotta keep up the act now, don’t we, mi princesa?”

Octavio began waving to his fans while posing for their photos as he guided you towards the zip line. You hoped your face wasn’t too red because you sure felt like your heart was about to explode from how fast it was beating. Why had Octavio whispering that in your ear gotten you so riled up, and why had his voice sounded so goddamned attractive then? You weren’t sure what was happening to your emotions right then but you were ready to get out of the public’s eye so you could stress about it privately.

Once you both had entered the dropship, you lied that you needed to go check with Ajay about something so he wouldn’t know where to find you before dashing off in the opposite direction of wherever Octavio was headed. You immediately went to the one place where you knew you’d be able to think for a bit: Pathfinder’s dorm. The other Legends rarely came by there even though Pathfinder often tried to invite them over to play a board game or two. You’d spent quite a lot of time with the robot however. You’d always felt bad that the others didn’t treat him as nicely as he did to them so you tried to make it up by being a friend.

Pathfinder was always peppy and eager to talk, but you knew that if you told him you needed some quiet to think things out, he’d happily oblige. “Hello, Y/N! How are you doing this fine day?,” Pathfinder asked with a cheery voice and a happy emoji on the screen in the centre of his chest when he answered the door. He stepped back to let you into his dorm and you immediately fell down onto one of the comfy bean bags that Pathfinder had set up in case he had any visitors.

“Would you like to play a game together? I saw on the Internet that humans like to play Monopoly so I went and got one, what fun we shall have!,” Pathfinder said happily as he pulled out the box from the bottom shelf of his bookshelf. He noticed that you had your face buried in your hands, elbows resting on your thighs and he asked “Are you not feeling too good, Y/N? I’m certified medically to help if you need it.”

You gazed up at him and said “I’m fine, Path. Don’t worry. I’m just...experiencing an emotional crisis about something I can’t even tell anyone about.” The screen on Pathfinder’s chest displayed a sad face as he moved to sit down on the bean bag next to you. He gently patted you on the head in a gesture he hoped would bring you comfort. You smiled “Thank you, Path. You’re the best.”

“Thank you, friend! I like you too,” Pathfinder said, the emoji having now changed into a smiley face with little hearts around it. You leaned back on the bean bag and stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. Maybe it was just because you’d spent so much time with Octavio in a fake relationship lately that you were beginning to imagine that you had feelings for him. Or could those butterflies you felt in your stomach earlier be genuine? You weren’t sure, and that was exactly what was bothering you. Could you actually be developing feelings for Octavio?

As soon as you thought that, you immediately tried to shake the idea off. There was no way. You must just be imagining it all. You had feelings for Elliott, not Octavio. Satisfied that you’d come to a conclusion, you decided to put any thought of it out of your mind and agreed to a quick game of chess with Pathfinder who seemed delighted to have some company that afternoon.

The quick game turned into four when you refused to leave without winning at least one round. Pathfinder was more than pleased to have you around but you suspected that he might have just let you win that final round just because you were starting to look a little bit frustrated. You walked back to your dormitory after stopping by the cafeteria for a snack and was busily digging around the brown paper bag for the last cookie as you bumped the dormitory’s door closed when you noticed that Octavio was in the room too.

A very unclothed Octavio at that.

He had his back to you, his hair and body dripping wet as if he’d just come out of the shower, a dark green towel pooled around his bionic legs. The moment you caught sight of his bare backside, you yelped in surprise and dropped your cookie in your hurry to cover your eyes with your hands. “Octavio, why didn’t you change in the bathroom like you did yesterday?!,” you asked as you turned to face towards the door and failed to judge your distance from it, causing you to bump your forehead right into it. “Ouch!”

“Are you okay, Y/N?!,” Octavio asked worriedly as he hurried over to you, not having processed what had led up to this line of events in the first place. You could feel him hovering beside you, trying to see where you had hurt yourself but you kept twisting away to avoid accidentally seeing more of Octavio’s body parts than you’d already seen. Seeming to finally sense what you were so panicked over, he finally moved back to the side of the dormitory he was previously at and put on the tank top and gray sweatpants he’d laid out before.

When Octavio said that he was dressed, you finally allowed yourself to remove your hands from your eyes and cautiously turned around to face him. “You didn’t tell me when you were coming back so after I went for a few spins around the range, I thought I’d quickly take a shower and change here. I didn’t think you’d come back so soon, sorry,” Octavio apologised quickly as he proceeded to towel his hair dry.

“I-It’s fine. Just please get dressed in the bathroom before you come back to the room in the future,” you said, not knowing exactly where to look. The gray sweatpants were honestly not helping either. To hide the growing blush on your cheeks, you bent down to sweep up the cookie and its crumbs into the palm of your hand before dumping them into the trash can. Inside the trash can, you spotted numerous empty syringes stained green from the stim Octavio used to increase his movement speed. Why’d he throw them away here if he’d used them in the practice range?

You were just about to ask Octavio about it when you noticed that he was frowning at you. “You lied to me earlier, Y/N. I bumped into Ajay on my way back here and she said she’s not seen you since yesterday,” Octavio said as he folded his arms across his chest. His anger suddenly faded and his voice gave away the pain and confusion he was feeling. “Why would you lie to me about something stupid like that?”

Surprised at this reaction, you tried to reply as best as you could without giving away what you were actually doing but failing terribly because your words came out sounding harsher than you’d planned them to be “I just...I just needed some space, okay? We’ve spent almost 24/7 with each other and I just needed a break from that. I was with Pathfinder playing Monopoly, not with Ajay. I only told you that because I didn’t want you to find me if you came looking for me, I’m sorry.”

When Octavio finally processed your words, his eyes widened and he quietly asked “So, what you’re saying is I’ve been too...what, clingy? You don’t like having me around, is that it?” You were lost for words. You didn’t understand how Octavio had made a connection between you needing some space and you not wanting to be around him entirely. But before you could try and correct him, Octavio said with a firm steeliness visible in his light green eyes “Fine. I’ll give you space.”

“Octavio, don’t be silly. I was just-wait, come back!,” you’d desperately started to explain what you’d meant when Octavio dashed out of the dormitory past you, slamming the door roughly behind him. You sat down abruptly onto the bed and flopped onto your back. Why was being in a fake relationship so hard?

#apex legends #apex octane #apex octavio silva #apex fanfic #apex legends pathfinder #pathfinder #mirage #apex mirage #elliott witt #octavio silva #fake dating #love triangle #fanfiction #apex fanfiction #apex legends fanfiction

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the-peak-of-despair · 4 years

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Mastermind! Chihiro Fujisaki - The Sixth Trial

This wasn’t exactly an old request, just a suggestion to write whatever I felt like. And I love mastermind AUs so fucking much, please, flood my inbox asking about them, I just wanna talk about our lord and savior mastermind chihiro - Mod Akane

“And that would mean..” Makoto begins, the realization striking him as he turns to Chihiro, staring fearfully back at him. “Y-You’re the mastermind, Chihiro!”

There’s doubt in his voice. He doesn’t want to believe it. His friend, who’d opened up to him, who shares his deepest secrets, in his most vulnerable state… he’d orchestrated all of this? From the outside, he looked like he would burst into tears if he killed a bee. Suppose that’s the trick behind it…

“C-Chihiro..? I-It was you..?” Asahina stutters, looking at him horrified.

“I-I-” Chihiro begins to stutter. He looks like he’s on the verge of bursting into tears. No one in the courtroom believes this claim, how could they? But the evidence was stacked against him..

It’s before anyone can argue that Chihiro snaps into an entirely new persona, and the tears are gone. “Yep! That’s me! I’m the mastermind!”

Everyone takes a step back. Chihiro’s face contorted in a way no one had ever imagined. In an instant, his entire personality changed. His tears evaporated into thin air and despair seemed to wash over his face, seeping down to his very core as his eyes lost all sign of true emotion.

“Gosh, you’re so smart, Makoto!” Chihiro says, clapping his hands like a child. “I can’t believe you found me out!”

“No. There’s simply no way this is possible.” Byakuya interrupts, crossing his arms. “Chihiro, stop playing games. There’s no way you are the mastermind.”

“Oh no, I really am!” Chihiro smiles. With a snap of his fingers, Monokuma shut down, almost like he was playing dead where he stood on the ground. Chihiro left his podium and approached the robot, standing next to it and humming while he examined it.

..And then, in a sudden instant, he slammed his foot into the robot, kicking it as hard as he could. Monokuma flew into a distant wall, shattering into a million black and white pieces as Chihiro didn’t even blink. Everyone in the courtroom drew back, even Byakuya and Kirigri, unable to hide their shock.

“H-Holy shit!” Yashuiro screams in fear as Chihiro turns back towards the circle of survivors. The room begins to fill with smoke, making most people cough and wave it away from their faces. In a second, it clears, revealing Chihiro in a new outfit, with a Monokuma-esq color palette to boot.

“Da-dun-dun! That’s right, the mastermind all along was Chihiro Fujisaki!” He smiles wildly, throwing his arms out in a grand gesture. Standing between Asahina and Yashuiro at his new podium, he seems so small, but he’s so.. Terrifying. The sudden switch in personalities shook everyone to the very core.

“This doesn’t make sense..” Kirigiri mutters. “How could you control Monokuma and almost never leave our sight?”

Chihiro backs up until he’s sat on top of the ‘throne’ Monokuma used to always sit on top of. He crosses his legs and leans back, getting comfortable in his seat above everyone else. “Pfffffffft! He’s an AI, come on Kirigiri, aren’t you smarter than this?” Chihiro mocks Kirigiri. “I’ve been living under your noses as the Ultimate Programmer, Monokuma wasn’t even my best work!”

“That doesn’t make sense. His movements and conversations with us.. They’re nothing like any AI I’ve ever seen.” Byakuya argues.

“Clean your glasses, Byakuya! Didn’t you see Alter Ego?” Chihiro poses the question as he sits up and leans over the arm of his chair towards Byakuya. “They’re all easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy!~ I’ve got an iron grip on the technology production from here to Towa City!”

“Speaking of Alter Ego..” Kirgiri interrupts, halting Byakuya’s personal slander. “What was the point of presenting him to us?”

Chihiro lets out a giggle. “Yeaah, Alter Ego was a bit of a mistake on my part! You weren’t supposed to find it. But since you did I thought it wouldn’t hurt to spin you in the wrong direction a bit!”

“And his execution?”

“Oh, that was Monokuma’s decision! Spur of the moment thing. I didn’t really mind, it was collateral damage!” Chihiro shrugs. “Collateral damage.. Kinda like Mondo and Kiyotaka!” He smiles, and as he watches everyone in the room come to a full stop before looking at Chihiro with disgust.

“C-Collateral d-damage..?” Makoto stutters. “T-Those were our friends, Chihiro! What the.. What the hell!? They were your friends!”

“Huh, were they?” Chihiro asks sarcastically, tapping a finger to his chin. “Huh. If they were, I just used them!”

“Y-You what…?” Asahina stutters.

“I used them! I mean, Mondo and Taka were like a package deal! I needed Mondo to make me stronger, and Taka only played by my rules! Let me tell you, it was s-”

“S-Shut up!” Makoto interrupts Chihiro, who perks up, interested in his sudden boldness. “W-We still need to talk about what happened in the last trial!”

“Oooh, you mean where I killed Sakura and framed Toko ‘cus I got bored? What’s there to talk about?” Chihiro asks, excited. “...Aha, did I let that slip?”

“R-Repeat that.” Asahina suddenly becomes cold, her fists balled tight at her sides.

“I’m sure you heard me, Asahina!” Chihiro smiles, standing from his throne and once again approaching the podium. “I killed Sakua and framed Toko!”

Asahina begins to breathe heavy, doing everything in her power to contain her anger as Chihiro continues to talk. “I mean, really, do you think Toko could actually kill Sakura? I don’t even think her wacky double-personality could’ve taken her down! So I worked a bit of magic, aaand..!”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!” Asahina screams, slamming her hands on her podium. “Y-You- You bastard! What the fuck is wrong with you Chihiro?!” She screams, turning and grabbing him by the collar, dragging him close to her face, so close that his feet barely grazed the ground. “I- You fucking killed her! Y-You killed Sakura! I-I- I loved her, you...you..!”

Chihiro doesn’t even look phased as Asahina spits venom in his face. “Hey, Hina! You remember what happened to Junko? Right?” He grins sadistically as the fear begins to strike Asahina, who drops him and takes a step back.

There’s a familiar whirring noise, and out of nowhere there's a spear that shoots from the middle of the room towards Asahina, almost identical to what happened to Junko. Asahina flinches and draws back violently, forcing the spear to only grace her cheek before slamming into the wall behind her. She opens her eyes, breathing heavy with fear as she held her hand to her cheek. “O-Oh my god..”

“Gah, I missed!” Chihiro pouts. “I need to get better at shooting games.”

“G-Games?! Y-You could’ve killed me!” Asahina yells, still holding a hand to her cheek.

“That’s the fun in it!” Chihiro grins. Once upon a time, this was a wide, innocent grin. Now, it was nothing but evil. Full of despair and agony. And that’s probably exactly what Chihiro wanted.

Makoto could only wonder- what could possibly push this poor boy to the breaking point..?

If you looked close enough, the answer was laid out in plain sight.

“Well!” Chihiro claps his hands. “What is there to talk about now? Surely the trial won’t come to a close so easily!” Chihiro scans the room, taking in every facial expression of pure disgust and pain around him.

“Why..? Why did you do all this?” Makoto asks, basically gripping his podium for dear life. He couldn’t just take all of this in easily. One of his best friends, through this entire hellhole, a person he’d protected with his fucking life and would follow into battle blindly… he was the mastermind? Chihiro, a boy who no one would suspect, he was pulling the strings, he’d orchestrated every death, he’d warped Hope’s Peak into a place of despair..?

He recalls the moment in the bathhouse when he told Kirigiri: “I’d follow you into battle if I had to!”

And her response.. “Not such a wise choice, is it?”

Chihiro’s face falls. “Do you know what it’s like, Makoto..?” His tone changes, it’s low and unlike anything anyone had heard from Chihiro before. “To be bullied, every single day, pummeled into the fucking dirt?!” Despair overwhelms his entire face, but he starts to laugh.. “Every.. Goddamn day! Until the point where you.. Hahaa.. You’ve gotta change your whole identity, just to be safe!”

“Chihiro.. I-” Yasuhiro looks like he’s about to set a hand on his shoulder. Forgetting for just a moment that this was a boy who’d killed his friends, and possibly even thousands, just remembering that once upon a time they were friends.

Chihiro smacks his hand away with alarming strength, still laughing all as tears gather in his eyes. “NO!” He screams, almost like it was a reflex. “I don’t need.. Ahahaha.. I don’t need anyone’s help anymore! That despair..it only.. It only made me stronger! AhahaAHAHAHA! A-And I- I’ve basked this entire world in despair!” Chihiro hugs himself, breaking into boisterous, manic laughter.

“What do you mean, the entire world?” Byakuya asks, seemingly unphased by Chihiro’s manic breakdown. Of course, Byakuya wasn’t ever ‘friends’ with the boy… though part of him couldn’t help but reflect on the.. Choice words he’d used against him before.

Chihiro doesn’t even stop laughing. “Oh, ah..ahaha! I forgot all about that! While you were all locked up in here, the entire world has plunged into despair!” He claps his hands twice, before throwing his arms out wide, gesturing towards the monitors on every corner of the room. The monitors flicker, then turn on, showing a repeating news broadcast.

The broadcast was simple, a repetitive broadcast of a red sky overtop of war and destruction, all with the face of Monokuma plastered all over. It shakes everyone in the room to the core, except for Chihiro, who gleefully watches his handiwork as he wipes his tears away. “Isn’t it lovely!? Everything destroyed.. Right down to your very bloodlines!”

“No. I simply won’t believe this.” Byakuya starts again. “This is foolish. A highschool boy couldn’t just take down the world.”

“Ahaha, I didn’t work alone, silly Byakuya!” Chihiro grins. “Despair spreads like a plague! And that plague even took down your precious Togami family!”

“Wh-What..?” Fear seems to take over Byakuya, if only for a split second. “Th-The Togami family doesn’t just lay down and die! Who the hell backs you!?”

Chihiro laughs. “Despair, dummy! How many times do I gotta repeat myself!?” The words send Byakuya down a spiral, even without evidence.. The very thought shook him to the core.

“H-Hey!” Makoto argues. “This can’t be true! Last I remember, the world was just fine! We’ve been here a month, tops, there’s no way you could’ve done this in all that time!”

“Weren’t we already over this?” Chihiro asks. “You lost your memories! If I whack ya hard enough, you might get ‘em back! But we’ve all been cooped up, shielded from the outside world! And now you’ve spent your days trying to crawl out of this home we all built together! Isn’t that just a tad hypocritical?”

“W-Wait, you mean..?” Asahina catches what Chihiro means first- the world had crumbled, and they’d all been here for two years, and then they…

“W-What was the point of all of this!?” Makoto asks, cutting off any other thought processes about how they’d been gone for two whole years.

“Huh? Well, I kept you alive, hijacked the airwaves, and displayed you murdering each other for the world to see because I wanted to spread despair to the last dying shreds of hope in the world!” Chihiro explains casually. “I mean, I’ve laid this all out in plain sight for you.”

“W-” Byakuya begins to speak.

Chihiro interrupts. “Yeah, yeah, be quiet, we’ve had enough of you. Now!” He claps his hands together, excited. “Since this is a trial, I give you one last vote. You can vote for despair- vote to give me the punishment I deserve- or, vote for hope, and stay here for the rest of your golden days!”

“L-Let me get this straight..” Asahina starts. “If we just vote for hope, none of us die..?”

Chihiro hums. “Well, I suppose, but.. That doesn’t sound as fun! So how about this: vote for hope, and I’ll only execute one of you! The rest of you get to live out the rest of your lives with moi.” He folds his hands under his chin, in an oh-so familiar way. Was he mocking Celeste..?

“W-Who’ll get executed..?” Yasuhiro stutters.

“Hm..” Chihiro hums as he looks around the room. He starts pointing from person to person. “Eenie.. Meanie… minie… you!” He lands on Makoto, who exhibits a fearful look in return.

“Y-You’ll execute me…?” Makoto stutters, fearful. Somewhere inside him, this felt familiar.

“Well of course! You seem to be the obvious answer.” Chihiro smiles gleefully, as if he didn’t just imply that with ease he would slaughter his friend. “Why, you used to be my closest friend! You.. were the first person I trusted! What better despair than for you to die at my own hands?”

Makoto takes a deep breath as he turns to his friends, full of despair and pain. Their hands hovering over their levers, obvious that they would seem.. Almost willing to put Makoto’s life on the line. He looks back at Chihiro, with a devilish grin paired with despair-filled eyes. He starts to laugh, like a loud symphony, bouncing off the walls and into everyone’s ears in an inescapable manner. He laughs so hard he almost starts crying once more, laughing so much it hurt.

Laughing like someone who’d been torn up inside and out and loved every fucking minute of it.

#chihiro fujisaki #mastermind chihiro fujisaki #mastermind au #danganronpa #danganronpa spoilers #danganronpa thh #trigger happy havoc #makoto naegi #byakuya togami #kyoko kirigiri #aoi asahina #yasuhiro hagakure #mod akane

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 3 years

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A Pie for Help || Chloe and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Kaden’s Apartment PARTIES: @chloeinbetween and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Chloe visits Kaden for a baking lesson. CONTENT WARNINGS: emotional abuse references, domestic abuse, terminal illness mention

More and more it felt like Kaden’s kitchen was the most used space in his apartment. And at this point, mabe the most visited, too. And if Abel’s barking was any indication, the kitchen was about to get another new visitor. One he didn’t know quite so well as some of the others. Kaden shushed the dog as he made it to the handle, attempting to quiet him down before letting anyone in. “Hey,” he said, swinging the door open and holding back Abel behind his legs. Looking at Chloe, something struck him. Putain. “Uh, hope you’re not afraid of dogs. I can crate him if you are. I’m sorry I didn’t check.” He really should have mentioned. Fuck. He wasn’t a stranger to causing awkward situations, but he’d really hoped he could avoid one right off the bat.

Chloe checked Kaden’s message three times before building up the courage to walk up to his door. Holding her iron necklace pendant tightly in one hand, Chloe raised her other to knock. She jumped high as a cat when out of nowhere, a dog barked. It was that slightly wide-eyed, hair-on-end look that Kaden was greeted with when he opened the door. “Hi,” Chloe squeaked. The tension trickled out of her like a faulty faucet as she looked at the big fluffy black dog behind Kaden’s legs. “Um, no?” She replied uncertainly. “As long as he doesn’t have wings.” She smiled wryly. “Who, um, what’s his name?”

One look at her wide eyes and Kaden was prepared to bring Abel straight to his crate. He’d seen that look of fear many times before in his job. As much as he loved dogs and animals and had a hard time being afraid of them, he understood for the most part. The teeth and claws, the unpredictability if you were unfamiliar with animals, there was reason for fear. Chloe had a lot of reasons for fear. He was hoping he could avoid those today. Keep today normal and easy. “Oh, okay good. You looked-- I never want to just assume since he can look a little, uh, you know, he’s bigger which some people--” Kaden really needed to stop talking. Thank god she cracked a joke. “No wings, as you can see,” he said with a half smile. “This is Abel. He’s very friendly. Big fan of treats.” He led her in and shut the door before quickly grabbing a small treat from a bag on the counter. “Here, make a new friend,” he said, handing the treat to her to give the dog.

“Oh! Um, yeah, sure,” Chloe said. The bones of Chloe’s knees clicked as she knelt down. It occurred to her a little too late that maybe this was a bad idea: getting up again might be a bit of a pain. Extending her hand with the treat on her palm, she let Abel snuffle her. Abel was surprisingly gently in plucking the treat off her hand before gulping down the biscuit. He licked the crumbs from Chloe’s hand. Smiling, she gently scratched under his chin, bringing her hand round to his ear. Abel enthusiastically leant into the scritches, his tailing thwipping across the floor. Chloe had no idea how big the grin on her face was until she suddenly remembered that Kaden was there, and that she couldn’t just spend all her time stroking Abel’s back. Even if Abel himself seemed to disagree with that theory. She slowly struggled back to her feet, clutching the counter as standing up made her a little dizzy. “He’s really cute. Bigger than most dogs. Um. So much fluff.”

Kaden leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, watching as Chloe crouched on the floor to be with the dog. He couldn’t keep the stupid smile off his face. He knew Abel was a good boy who loved meeting new people, but it was always nice to watch when others lit up around an animal. There was nothing like it. Hell, it was the part of his job that always brought him joy. A lot of it was difficult and turbulent, but helping pets reunite with owners or find a new forever home was worth all of it. “He likes you,” he said, still beaming. She wobbled and he reached out to help steady her, arm out in case she needed to lean on him. “You good?” he asked. “But yeah, I got him to be a hunting dog. He’s rotten at it, really. Runs away at the first sign of trouble but he’s still a great dog.” That wasn’t entirely true, though. Abel didn’t run when Kaden was truly in trouble. He saved him. A few times now. A pit dropped in his stomach at the memory. Deep breath. Pushed it away. “Kitchen’s this way,” he said and waved her over. “Uh, so I got all the ingredients out. And I have a few filling options we can do. I wasn’t sure what you liked. And I figured you should call the shots here.”

“It's a good thing I don't have to be good at conversation with dogs,” Chloe said with a nervous chuckle. His smile made hers all the wider, although her cheeks blushed red, embarrassed that this had been the ice breaker and that her communication had been so weak until now. She paused, waiting for the dizziness to fade to a manageable level before answering his question. “Yeah, I'm good,” her smile wavered. Chloe wasn't going to focus on the ache in her head or the wool behind her eyes now. Now was about chasing a simple kind of happiness. Making for the sake of making, rather than the sake of being good. “I think that makes him a smart dog,” Chloe said, ruffling Abel’s furs once more before following Kaden through to the kitchen. “Honestly, I'm open to experimenting. Apart from the pie you made me, it's been so long since I've had pie I kind of don't want to hold myself to any ... pie standards? Is that a thing? Apple, cherry, pumpkin, pecan, anything like that would be great. My taste buds have changed in the last few years, so ... happy to try more things.”

“Part of what makes animals great, if you ask me,” Kaden replied. They were much easier than people most days. Certainly easier than the supernatural anything. His brow pulled together for a second as he saw her blush. He couldn’t figure out what she was embarrassed about. Fuck, was he doing something to make her uncomfortable already? He tried to continue to offer her a hopeful smile, even as she seemed to pass on taking his hand for help. “Yeah, yeah. Smarter than his owner, surely.” Kaden swung the fridge door open and started pulling out the butter. “So I figure I’d show you how to start a puff pastry but it takes forever so I have some dough ready to go, too. You know, for the actual pie. Unless you know, you want to take the two hours minimum to prepare it. Which, uh, you can. There’s no rush but it’s a long time, you know and…” Kaden placed the butter on the reached back and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, anyway, I was thinking maybe we could make a tarte tatin. It’s apple. If you want. Less chance for decorating the top of the pie with the crust since it’s made upside down, but you can cut the fruit pretty. Up to you.”

“I don’t know, his owner strikes me as a pretty decent human- person,” Chloe replied quietly, dropping into one of the kitchen chairs to take the weight off her legs. Building up strength muscle by muscle where it was possible, but also making sure she was getting enough rest. Her physio would be proud, Chloe supposed drily as she watched Kaden pull the butter out of the fridge. “Oh, wow, this is really like daytime tv, huh? Here’s one we prepared earlier,” Chloe imitated the voice of some bubbly daytime presenter, holding up her hands as if she was offering Kaden a tray. Her smile did become more genuine as he told her the plan, looking over the counter. “Sounds good,” she replied, not realising how automatic and robotic her voice sounded. She was too used to telling people yes. “Cutting the fruit pretty sounds like a plan. Anything you think would work, as long as I can take the occasional rest break.”

“His owner tries, I guess,” Kaden said with a shrug. He wasn’t going to let his heart sink or his head dive straight into doubt as it was prone to lately. Today was certainly not about him or his bullshit. And if he could be a decent person for Chloe, maybe that was worth being. Let her keep the illusion, at least. Still he had to flash a smile at her jokes. “Right, yeah. Just call me…” Kaden couldn’t name a single daytime television chef. “Uhh, is Paula Deen one of those? Ari told me about her. I, uh, realized I have no idea.” The physical toll the whole ordeal took on her simply hadn’t occurred to him. He wasn’t sure why. Actually no, he could figure. There was just so much to unpack that sometimes things got left in the box up until they were right in front of you. “You know I can grab you a barstool if you want and you can work that way. No shame. This isn’t retail or something where you have to stand for eight hours.” Or anything worse. He flashed her a smile as he prepped the counter with flour. “Apple tarte tatin it is, then,” he said as he pulled out the apples and started lining them up to wash and peel them. It was then it struck him that he was calling every shot. Fucking hell, that didn’t sit well. He turned and leaned against the counter, arms crossed in front of him as he faced her. “Wait. No. I’m making you make a decision. This is your pie. What do you want? Pie crust on top or no top? Let’s start there.”

“Ha, yes, Paula Deen, but even you don’t have quite the hair to match her,” Chloe chuckled. She looked up at his offer, hesitating for a second, shrinking into her chest before nodding quietly. “Yeah, a barstool is probably easier, actually,” she admitted quietly. “I won’t need it the whole time or anything.” Chloe smiled gratefully. Then promptly froze like a deer in headlight at his question, casually posed as he turned to her.

“Um….” Chloe stared at him, trying to remember what he’d just said about tarte tatin. Was it that there wasn’t a pie crust at all? Was it that because it was made upside down there wasn’t as much to do with a top pie crust? The question, like it or not, felt like a test, and all of Kaden’s goodwill might vanish in a second. On the other hand, if she didn’t answer at all, she might end up delaying the whole process. Maybe Kaden wanted her in and out as soon as possible, which was why he’d premade the pie crust anyway. Maybe he was hoping she would choose the least work. Maybe it would insult Kaden if she didn’t make a decision. She didn’t know anything about French culture, maybe he would be offended if she didn’t already know what the right answer was, or if she didn’t have an answer at all. Chloe looked down at Abel, who was casually sprawled on the floor, watching the both of them curiously and hoping one of them might drop a treat by accident. Abel, it seemed, did not have the answer either. Several seconds had passed since Kaden had asked the question. “Um. Pie crust on top? Yeah. Let’s… let’s go with that.”

“Right, note-- Wait. Did you just insult my hair?” Kaden said, turning to her. “That’s not very nice,” he started, holding back some laughter as he feigned hurt. “You might give me a complex or something.” He really hoped she caught on to the joke. Things didn't need to be more awkward, that was for sure. Still he went around to the other side of the kitchen and pulled in a barstool for her, placing it next to the counter.

For a second, Kaden wondered if he made a mistake. Was this too much pressure? Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed it. He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as she made one whole choice. It didn’t even matter what she picked, he was just happy she chose something and a smile broke out on his face. “Crust on top it is. We can attempt to make it pretty if we want but I make no guarantees on it turning out that way.” He gave her a small shrug and added, “still, might be fun to try.” He started placing butter and flour next to what he had set up as her station. “Fruit is all up to you, too. Or nuts if you want. I have just about everything.” Partially because he practically had a pie making assembly line at this point but mostly because he wanted to make this as nice as possible. Not that he wanted to let onto that. No need to overwhelm her with how ridiculously prepared he was. “Unless you don’t want to decide. We can stick with apple, of course. This is your lesson so whatever you want.”

“No, I would never,” Chloe laughed, pulling up a picture of Paula Deen to show him her silver fox luscious locks, sure he would agree that while he had great hair, he did not have Paula Deen hair. She smiled gratefully, the words of gratitude catching in her throat once more as she shifted into the barstool, leaning her elbows onto the counter.

As soon as she answered, she was watching for his reaction. Reading into the smile, the soft sigh of relief, like it might be revealed as a grimace of frustration if she just noticed the right twitch of a muscle, some clue to reveal his real opinion. But the smile looked genuine enough, so she relaxed a little as he started handing her ingredients. “Let’s… let’s not push this too far,” she said quietly as he started to ask her another question, the feeling of having to make yet another decision terrifying. “Apple sounds like a safe bet, and it would be… it would be cool to do a little bit of a cool pattern with the apples. Do you… do you make a lot of pies? You have so much… stuff available.”

Kaden glanced down at her phone with some skepticism. “Alright fine, point made. I don’t spend that much time on my hair, you’re right,” he said with a small scoff. Not that he’d admit to just about anyone how much time he actually did spend on it. Or how much money. “Fair enough. Let’s stick with the apple in that case. I agree, it’s pretty hard to go wrong with them,” he said, offering her another smile as he set up to get the apples ready to go. “Fruit’s already sweet, you know. So you don’t have to worry too much about really screwing it up. Sort of can let good fruit do the work for you. I mean not that there’s no work, uh, but you know what I mean.” Putain. He realized he was probably talking too much about nothing for no reason. She’d agreed with him and here he was rambling about fruit. He let out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck again. “Oh, uh, yeah I end up making a lot more than I ever thought I would, that’s for sure. But baking is good for stress relief, passing the time, all that. So I make a lot of pies in this town.” His smile wasn’t as full this time, try though he might to make it otherwise. “Anyway, we won’t have any pie if we don’t cut fruit or make some dough. So what do you say?”

“Right. The fruit’s sweet. Don’t need to put too much extra special effort in, got it.” Chloe matched his awkward smile with another, even more awkward one of hers. It didn’t seem possible, really. This didn’t feel like reality, more like a feverish dream that was maybe what her dying body was clinging to in its deathbed. Making pies with the man who Lydia had hated more than anything else, it was just the kind of thing that a dying brain might invent. Although Chloe hoped that if this was the imaginations of a brain trying to escape the horrors of its demise, it might make her less awkward. “Maybe let’s… start with the dough. Is that sensible? Or the apples will brown before we get everything assembled… although I guess you have lemon juice, which would solve the problem of browning entirely, which you probably thought about before I did, so….” Chloe swallowed down her nervous flurry, rubbing the back of her head. “I’m trying really, really hard not to be like this, you know,” she admitted quietly.

Kaden wanted his smile to reach his eyes, really did. But he knew Chloe hadn’t been in control of damn near anything for years now. The last thing he wanted to do was to shout out orders or take away any more of her choice. At the same time, there was no denying that she was struggling to make any decisions. He supposed that made sense but it was still hard to reconcile. “It’s a pie, not a rocket. There is some room for error here. Breathe.” He handed her a bowl and slid the flour and butter towards her. “You made a good point, though. Let’s start with the dough. Plus, it’s pretty fun to use the pastry blender.” He leaned into the counter with his side and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You can be however you need to be though. Really. I’m, uh, the whole…” He sighed and dropped his hands back to his side before pushing his hair back out of his face. “Look I clearly don’t know how the hell to act normal either. Don’t worry about it.”

Chloe nodded, taking a deep breath. A pie, not rocket science. A hunter, not a fae, and this was for fun, not out of the expectation of perfection. That last thought hit her the hardest. Chloe looked up at Kaden and made herself meet his eyes. “I appreciate that. I really do.”

“I remember how charismatic I used to be and how easy I used to find social interactions and… it’s really hard to not make those comparisons. Everyone says these things take time,” which was the one thing Chloe didn’t have, “but I guess I’m a bit too perfectionistic now. Anyway.” She started to combine the flour and butter carefully with her finger tips, following Kaden’s instructions. It was laughable that Kaden could be considered as awkward, not when he was so many good things. Chloe just straight up didn’t believe him.

Kaden listened and gave her a small nod before working on his own dough. He barely had to think about what he was doing at this point, it was second nature by now. Still he should slow down, he was trying to teach her, right? Putain. “I know it’s not the same, but I used to be pretty different, too. Before moving here and--- Just before,” he said, keeping his eyes pinned to the counter, focus on the ingredients combining to make the dough. Something out of nothing. It wasn’t magic like what a spellcaster could do, it was far from supernatural, thankfully, but it had its own magic. “I try not to compare. It’s pointless. And just, I don’t know. It feels bad. So I don’t.” Kaden gave a small shrug before leaning a little more into the dough, maybe more aggressively than he needed to. Pausing, he looked over at what she had started on. “So far so good. Make sure the butter isn’t clumped,” he said, small smile and pointing out the one spot. “No one was ever perfect on a first try. If ever. And you’re still pretty charismatic. Definitely endearing. At the very least.” This time the smile he flashed was wider, warmer. The fact she was still able to hold up and joke after everything she went through? Definitely endearing.

“That’s hard to imagine. I figured you would have been doing the hunting thing for a while with the whole being an expert thing,” Chloe replied quietly, slowly working the dough over in her hands, trying not to overheat the butter between her fingers. She watched Kaden, trying to copy how he did it, as much as anyone could. “I’ve spent the last four years having to be the most perfect at something I’m capable of being,” Chloe admitted below her breath, “I know it was all her, but it’s just… part of me now. Still trying to be better at things. A better version of me.” Previously, more acceptable to let live. Now just more likeable. Definitely different stakes, but the mindset was still the same. She nodded, fixing the issue he’d pointed out and looking around the rest of the dough for more clumped butter. “Oh, trust me I know. And… glad you think I’m endearing, I guess? I think that’s not the word most people would use.”

“Yeah,” Kaden answered, voice small, “I have.” That was the problem. That’s all he’d done. And he wasn’t sure-- He paused. Inhaled deeply. He was baking. The kitchen was off limits for bullshit thoughts about his bullshit life. He’d decided that at some point in this stretch while Regan had been in her cabin. Morgan very rarely let that rule stand while they were baking, but he had control right now. No bullshit thoughts right now. Just baking. “Just trust me. I never would have done shit like this a year ago. I can’t remember the last time I lived in one place this long, to be honest with you.” He listened carefully as he folded the dough over, setting it aside once it was ready and watching her progress. “Guess that makes sense.” It’s not like he was great at being bad at things, either. “Yeah, well. I said what I said. Looks good, by the way. Now you just have to fold it. Roll it. Then turn it. And then there’s apples.”

“Oh.” Chloe replied softly, unsure if she could, or should reply. Was moving a hunter thing? Chloe distantly remembered Lydia’s sister, the one who had been killed so unjustly by those monstrous beings known as hunters. It had been reported as a murder. She supposed you would have to run, in a situation like that. What a thankless life indeed. And he’d joked before about her being braver, when Chloe was content to curl into the remnants of her life, doing nothing brave than posting about fae on main every once in a while. “Roll it. Fold it. Turn it. Wait,” Chloe smacked her wrist against her forehead, repeating the instructions in the right order this time. “Like this?” Chloe asked eventually, her hands beginning to throb from the work. “Does... this town scare you?”

It took Kaden a second to realize she’d even said it in the wrong order. “Wait, first-- yeah, you got it,” he said with a nod of approval as she manipulated the dough. He gathered both sets of dough and put them on a tray and into the fridge to chill. His fingers had wrapped around the handle when her question stopped dead in his tracks. It was something he’d never really considered. A looming question he never actually asked or answered to himself. Blinking, his mouth opened and closed a few times over, no words spilled out. He placed the tray in the fridge and closed the door before turning back to her. “I don’t know,” he managed to say. “It-- Maybe. It’s, uh… It’s definitely the most complicated place I’ve ever lived.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he could find the answer. “You?” he hazarded to ask. Stupid question most likely.

“So… apples.” There couldn’t be any difficult decisions there, could there? It was just slicing and arranging and nothing else. Not that it mattered either way. As Kaden made clear, it wasn’t a big deal. “The most complicated place? What does that mean?” At his question, Chloe nodded, with a weak, wry smile. Of course he knew. “So afraid. All of her friends still live here. But…. I think I’m scared of out there even more.” Chloe gestured out towards the front door, frankly with no awareness of which was to point to other towns. She might have just pointed in the direction of the ocean for all she knew.

“Apples,” he repeated, grabbing the bag and setting up in the kitchen by the sink to wash them. “Uh, I mean, just that I’ve had more questions about my fucking life choices here than I have anywhere else. Maybe that’s not fair to blame on the town, though. Maybe I’m just old,” Kaden said and tossed the washed apple to her. He kept washing as she talked. She wasn’t fucking wrong. He wrung his hands in between placing one apple to the side and grabbing the next. “Makes sense.” He didn’t even know what to say to that. Morgan frequented that very kitchen. And she hadn’t been able to let Lydia go completely, even after. And as much as Regan detested Lydia, she was still fae. Hell, there was a pixie hidden in his apartment. He was surrounded by fucking fae and fae apologists and he was wondering if he was one at this point. When he had no goddamn reason to be looking at her and the effects a fae had on her. “Well, you have friends here now, too,” he said plainly, going back to washing the apples. “And she’s fucking dead.” No thanks to him. “So it’s a little safer now.” Small comforts, surely.

“You’re not that old, right?” Chloe had thought he was around her age, maybe even younger. Were hunters like fae in terms of looking young forever or… was he just being sardonic “No, I guess that makes sense. Sort of. This place is so weird maybe it does make everyone question stuff.” She caught the apple, looking it over before carefully beginning to slice it. The knife slipped as he answered her, Chloe jerking away so she didn’t cut her hand. Friends. Something tightly wound inside her began to unravel a little there, like she’d tied down some part of her all those years ago so that it was too small to be seen by the monster she’d live with. The part of her that sought companionship, friendship. For years, she’d been hard and abrasive to everyone in the house because Lydia would have used anything else against her. But Kaden considered them friends. Or something similar. Chloe almost sobbed, blinking away the heat in her eyes rapidly. “She’s fucking dead,” Chloe echoed, taking a new apples from Kaden’s hand, still dripping with water as she put in on the board. “So I’m a little safer now.” Chloe cleaved the apple in two right through its heart. Some day, that might even sound true.

#writing #wickedswriting #chatzy #chloe #chloeinbetween #emotional abuse tw #domestic abuse tw #terminal illness mention #lydiaplot cw #a pie for help

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oh-theatre · 4 years

Text

Livin’ It Up: Chapter 3

Chapter title: Its All Coming Back To Me Now

A/N: New, bad, sorry. Comment? Sorry for short, important.

words: 1340

summary: return

pairings: Eventual logicality, eventual prinxiety, eventual demus, eventual Moceit (Which then goes back to Logicality and Demus)

warnings: Swearing, alcohol, underage drinking, drinking, parties, kissing, throw up, slight self harm, emotional abuse

Ao3 Link

“Ugh of course he did” Virgil sighs, throwing his journal across the room. Patton giggles still scribbling away at his homework. Virgil sits up, rubbing the nape of his neck with sympathy in his eyes. “Im sorry Pat, i know you wanted...not that”

“Hey its ok! I gave it a shot, plus the night I had was fun” Patton admits, he shrugs away his thoughts but finds himself doodling in the corner of his calculus work. “This is pointless” He shut his book away, returning it neatly to its spot on his desk. “My brain cant focus” He threw his eraser towards Virgil “Tell me about Roman” He smirks.

“Ok look nothings happened since the party” Virgil tells, and Patton listens, well until Virgil begins to ramble about their theatre project. His mind was in too many places at once, and he loved Virgil but once his gushing ended and his worries set in, Patton couldn't focus. His mind wandered to that fateful night, under the amber lights of a bustling evening.

“But they're so sticky” Logan scrunched his face, watching Patton thank the shop tender for his caramel apple. Patton rolls his eyes with a playful smile.

“Delicious is the word you're looking for” He corrects, Logan still doubtful. “Come on, take a bite” he offers, holding it up. Hesitant at first, Logan eyes it, was he examining the apple? Oh god, the way his glasses sat on his nose practically falling, Patton swears he could hear his heartbeat.

“Alright” He says, he holds his glasses, Patton strengthens his hold as Logan takes a bite out of the delectable treat. Logan's eyes quickly fly open, a surprise as he chews.

“Congrats Moreno! You're one of us common folk now” Patton teases, the wind ruffling both of their hair. Logan nods, taking yet another bite, Patotn didn't mind, he found the small chipmunk like chewing adorable. “Come on Simon, there's more to show you” He jokes, Logan takes his hand allowing the cheerleader to guide him. The apple was gone quickly but neither minded, it made their commute easier.

Patton had to wonder if Logan had ever been outside however, every little new thing sparked him, the bored robotic look in his eyes disappeared with a new flicker of excitement. Patton adored it. He grew fond of how Logan would fiddle with his fingers, it was soft.

“Just ignore them” Logan whispered as the pair walked towards a more quiet spot.

“Hm?” Patton hummed in response, a small skip as the gravel crackled below their feet.

“The girls and guys staring, just ignore them” And Patton had been. It was hard not to notice, each with daggers in their eyes but even if tonight was just a one time thing, or whatnot Patton was here to enjoy himself, enjoy the carnival he had spent weeks preparing and try something new. And it was nice, even if he did notice the winks Logan would throw out, the boredom as Patton chatted with people and the constant phone checking.

Its nice

It was nice

“So now im like i don't know! Should I dye my hair!” Virgil finishes, Patton coughs away his thoughts.

“I might have adhd but you can really go down a rabbit hole” Patton laughs, Virgil chuckles a flash of red on his cheeks. “Not a bad thing, and i think you should dye your hair if you want. No matter what you're gonna look great” Patton compliments. “Crap! We’re gonna be late” He checks his watch, morning homework sessions on monday were a usual. Except when they forget to actually get to school.

“Id say race you there but i dont wanna get there any faster than I have to” Virgil says, and with that they rush out the house.

~~~

“Does he have to looking so fucking cute” Logan spits, Roman stops his words instaly and looks to where an angry Logan glares.

“Uh Im sorry, imma need my friend back” Roman pokes, Logan turns to him, his eyebrows tightened. “Dude, what is going on with you” Roman questions, Logan slams the locker shut trying to distract himself from Patton and Virgil standing just a few steps down the hall at their own lockers. “Just a reminder that you-”

“Roman I am fully aware of what happened, I am also fully aware that the only reason Patton has not spoken to me is my own fault” Logan leans against the locker paralleling Romans pose. “However I am still infuriated that he looks that cute” Logan sighs. He wasn't wrong, even if Roman and Patton had their...issues he still knew his former friend. And Patton had an incredible eye for fashion.

And today was no exception. He wore a dropped shoulder cropped pullover, striped with white, pastel blue and pink, finished with a white collar. His light blue jeans sat comfortably on his legs cuffed at the bottom to show off his white sneakers. His belt was prominent and no mistake and his backpack slung over just one shoulder as he unpacked his belongings into his locker.

Objectively he was cute, but Roman was distracted by Virgil. He stood next to Patton talking away, his outfits always suited him and his defensive look only made Romans face flush more.

“Welp, you win some you lose some” Roman shrugs, patting his friend.

“I so appreciate the sentiment dear friend” Logan's sarcasm was not lost on Roman.

“Come on, you need some sushi in you” Roman takes his friend's shoulders, preparing to guide his friend towards the exit. Each has a free period that bleeds into lunch so why not take advantage?

~~~

“Is it bad that I want to wear Romans varsity jacket?” Virgil whispered as he darted his eyes away from the said jock who only stood a few feet away.

“No, it's adorable” Patton says, he organizes his things in his locker, ignoring as Logan and Roman begin to walk towards them. He knew rationally they were headed towards the exit but the small inkling of fear if they were to come up to him was still present. But quickly his mind was taken elsewhere with an abrupt cheer.

“One! Two! Three!” He hears, why was that voice so familiar? “Who missed me!”

“Janus!” Patton recognizes, he spins with unfiltered excitement rushing through the hall. Janus laughs as he sees his friend racing towards him wasting no time to wrap him in his arms and spin him quickly. Their embrace was pure elation, Virgil caught up to the pair with his own grin. They finally parted ignoring the crowd around them, specifically two boys who had decided sushi could wait.

“Buttercup!” He grins, Patton giggles delighted. He had missed Janus so much, and the sweet way the nickname fell only increased the buzz in his heart.

Someone else in the hall was not feeling the ecstatic energy. Logan glared his shoulders tightening under Romans hold. What was this envious sweat dripping from him as he watched Janus snake a respectful arm around Patton's waist, cupped to keep his gentlemans distance.

But Logan wasn't allowed to be mad

He saw Carly down the hall, she winked at him receiving a disgruntled scowl in return. He watched Brittany and Martin walk by him, each a flustered look.

And why should he care, he had the whole school, why did he need-

His thoughts were interrupted by the most intoxicating, sweetest sound to ever bless his ears. Pattons little giggle as he clutched to Janus for stability. He may have been seventeen but he towered over the boys, including Logan. Virgil seemed happy enough but Logan couldn't get over Patton. Patton stood blushing, his hand never left Janus’s side and he was...flashing the brightest smile.

Why did Logan want to be the one to cause that reaction

“Oh shut up moreno” He whispers to himself, swiping away from Romans grasps he shoots Martin a wink before making his way to lunch, a hesitant Roman followed.

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pennamesmith · 4 years

Text

Flowers for Skeletor

Hordak and Entrapta return to the Fright Zone. Perfuma gets some things cleared up. More ‘Skeletor’ stories.

Hordak and Entrapta strolled into what had, once upon a time, been the heart of the Fright Zone. Now it was covered in lush greenery, and sunlight shone through the open spaces in the ceiling.

Entrapta was riding cross-legged on top of Emily, and gazed in wonder at everything around her. Hordak walked at her side, watching her expression warmly, while supporting the shuffling footsteps of the Horde drone she’d rebuilt and named ‘Skeletor.’

“Am I supposed to be frightened?” Skeletor asked, incredulous, taking in the rebuilt ruins.

Hordak hushed him, but it was true that nearly all of the horror had gone from the place. Flowers bloomed on every vine. Soft moss covered the floors. The cushioned red throne in the center of it all rested atop a much shorter set of steps, and it was currently occupied by a giddy scorpion princess who was bouncing in her seat and waving.

“Entrapta! Hordak! Hi! Welcome! Thank you for coming! Oh, it’s so good to have you visit here!” Scorpia bubbled.

“Hello Scorpia! And also Perfuma!” Entrapta hollered as they approached. The Princess of Plumeria, tending to a patch of roses sprouting on the side of Scorpia’s throne, gave a little wave and smiled awkwardly in reply.

“Skeletor has come for you!” Skeletor declared.

Hordak flushed in embarrassment and quickly pushed the robot away. He bowed deeply before Scorpia. “Ahem. Thank you for inviting us here, Princess. How is reconstruction progressing in the New Scorpion Kingdom?”

“Oh, no, Hordak,” Scorpia admonished, smiling. “I’m an official princess now. That means you have to call my kingdom what I named it.”

“Of course. My apologies,” Hordak replied. “Tell me, how are things in…” His face appeared to visibly strain. “...The Delight Zone?”

“Oh, just peachy!” Scorpia beamed back. “We’re working on turning all the garbage incinerators into pottery kilns. And those hydro-electric generators you helped us install? Wow!” She tapped her claw-tips guiltily. “Which, uh, is actually part of the reason I asked you here. See, one of them broke down, and…”

“Have no fear!” Entrapta announced, hefting an overstuffed toolbox. “We’ll get to the bottom of it!”

Scorpia sighed in relief. “Oh, thank you! And it really is nice to have you visit since we started redecorating. There’s so much less, uh, crushing brutalism. And Perfuma is putting flowers everywhere!”

“I like them! They’re so pretty!” Entrapta gushed. “What do you think, Hordak?” she asked, plopping a daisy crown on his head.

Hordak made a noise.

“Anyway,” Perfuma spoke up suddenly, standing stiffly at the arm of Scorpia’s throne. “We should show Entrapta to the power generators before it gets too late. After all, it is a rare honor to host the Princess of Dryl and… her royal consort.”

“Not that rare,” Entrapta said, unoffended. “You saw us at therapy group yesterday.”

“A rare honor that we would hate to besmirch with an excess of small talk!” Perfuma insisted. Her eye twitched, slightly. “Right this way, please!”

They walked along bridges that had once looked over belching smokestacks and polluted junkyards. Now the view was of farmland under clear blue skies.

“We’ve been growing vegetables!” Scorpia boasted, sweeping her claw across it all. “And to help the plants grow, we started keeping an apiary for local pollinators in one of the old bugshell towers.”

“Bee-People!” Skeletor shouted in delight.

“This is incredible!” Entrapta cried, standing up on Emily to get a better look. “Hordak, look how much they’ve repurposed! It’s like a completely different place!”

“It is,” Hordak agreed, and he did not sound entirely displeased about it. A calm smile played at his lips.

Soon enough, they reached their destination. In an open-ceilinged space, several machines the size of small houses sat astride a clear-flowing artificial river. This place, like the others, was covered in verdant and blooming plant life. The sun shone down on a forest in the heart of a factory.

One of the large machines was not making noise, and its lights had gone dark. Scorpia rapped on it with a claw, and it made a hollow clanging sound.

“This is the, ah, problem area,” Scorpia said sheepishly. “It’s — ”

“Destroyed! Totally destroyed!” Skeletor interrupted. He rushed forward and peered at the silent machine. “What’s that? The fusion alarm? The main drive is about to explode!”

“No, Skeletor. Nothing is going to explode,” Hordak chided, as Scorpia hyperventilated. He guided the robot away from the generator. “I need you to look after Emily while Entrapta diagnoses the source of the malfunction. Emily will be recording, so do not misbehave.”

“I had anticipated that, bat-ears,” Skeletor grumbled, but dutifully shepherded the spherical bot away from the group toward a cluster of trees with bright turquoise fruit. “We’ll be in the banshee jungle!”

“I’ll beep you when I need you, Emily!” Entrapta called cheerfully as she spread out her tools. She grabbed Scorpia. “All right. I need to get topside of this machine to find out what the problem is, and I’m gonna need your electrical magic to run some tests. So, upsy-daisy!”

“Oh, wow, hangout time!” Scorpia exclaimed. “That’s great, because I just got a new board game I wanted to tell you about, it’s called — whoop!”

Her words were cut off as Entrapta hoisted her in her hair and scaled the side of the generator like a purple spider.

Perfuma watched them go and then looked, finally, at Hordak. She coughed. “So,” she said.

Hordak waited.

“...How’s Wrong Hordak?” Perfuma asked eventually, reaching for one of their commonalities.

“Quite well,” Hordak answered. He began to sort some of Entrapta’s tools. “He is very grateful that you’ve started helping him with the Ex-Horde Therapy Group, by the way.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad that you’ve been… going to it,” Perfuma said. She seemed to be choosing her words carefully. “The Princess Alliance wasn’t entirely in agreement about what to do with you at first, you know.”

“I am aware,” Hordak replied, flatly.

From the trees, Skeletor emerged, covered in colorful flowers and desperately clinging to an unhindered Emily.

“Stop! You shall not escape!” Skeletor protested. “Your puny lasers mean nothing to me!”

“Speaking of the group,” Perfuma continued. “I think this is actually the first time I’ve had a chance to talk to you outside of it since all the official business when the war ended.”

Hordak’s eyes narrowed. “Are you driving at something, Princess?” he asked, evenly. Quietly, he practiced a breathing exercise that he had, in fact, learned from Perfuma herself.

“Your hatred of me will work in my favor!” Skeletor wailed from behind them, trailing Emily by a vine.

Perfuma pouted and put her hands on her hips. “Look, just… You had better not do anything to hurt Entrapta, okay?”

“...What?” said Hordak.

“What?” said Skeletor.

Perfuma crossed her arms. “I know you’re a good guy now, but that doesn’t make you a… a good guy. Entrapta really likes you. If you break her heart, some very powerful people will be very upset with you. Just so you know.” She struck what was probably meant to be an intimidating pose.

Hordak finally turned to face her. His expression was one of shocked surprise. “You are concerned about Entrapta’s emotional safety with me?” he asked. “I understand you are the one who kept her on a leash.”

“I — ! That was — !” Perfuma faltered, raising a finger. “...Not my finest moment,” she finally admitted, deflating. “But I swear, we all only want her to be okay. There are some things Entrapta just doesn’t understand.”

Hordak seemed rather taken aback by this. Politely, yet firmly, he said, “I assure you, Entrapta understands everything she needs to perfectly well. Often better than I do.”

He looked upwards in her direction, and the sun seemed to brighten on his face. “I… respect her. Incalculably. It is my privilege to learn from her.”

“There is the answer to my evil needs!” Skeletor said, from somewhere.

Now it was Perfuma’s turn to seem stunned. “You really do love her,” she murmured, and couldn’t help letting her eyes shift to where Scorpia sat and laughed in the sunshine.

Hordak followed her line of sight knowingly. “Entrapta is not the only one you are worried about,” he deduced after a few moments.

Perfuma fretted. “Scorpia just has such a big heart!” she said, helplessly. “And she’s new to being a princess. She got yanked around a lot with… with the Horde, and I don’t want her to be taken advantage of like that again.”

Hordak considered this seriously. After a long pause that was interrupted several times by the distant sound of Entrapta’s hammering and various exclamations of delight, he ventured, “Perhaps Scorpia understands more than she appears to as well. She was exceptional, if unusual, while in… my employment. I expect she will only continue to grow and flower in her new position.” He offered a friendly hand to Perfuma’s shoulder. “Especially with someone who loves her at her side.”

At this, Perfuma blushed furiously and quickly strode away from Hordak. “Hey, do you need anything from us up there?” She called to Scorpia and Entrapta. “A big vine-ladder maybe? Or some kind of robot stuff?”

“Bee-People?” Skeletor offered.

Perfuma finally seemed to notice him. “Why is Skeletor here, anyway?” she asked, turning to Hordak.

“Ah. This is to help improve his work for the therapy group,” said Hordak. “Entrapta wanted to provide him with more exposure to social situations.”

“That seems… contrived. But I’ll allow it.”

“Any more questions?” Skeletor asked.

Before anyone could reply, Entrapta slid back to the ground, with Scorpia in her wake. “I’m gonna need some more parts from the ship!” she announced brightly. “Hordak, can you try to balance the dynamo while I’m gone?”

“Certainly. That will allow us to safely remove the alternator.”

“Exactly what I was thinking! And then we can connect the charging coils to the…”

“Excitation field,” Hordak finished, sharing her smile.

Perfuma and Scorpia traded baffled looks.

Entrapta tweaked one of Hordak’s ears. “You get it!” she giggled. “You’re doing great, Hordikins! Back in a minute!” And with that, she was off again.

“‘Hordikins,’” Perfuma repeated, rapidly losing all composure. Beside her, Scorpia made a tiny, ecstatic squeak.

Hordak turned to face them both in mute horror, suddenly realizing that he was still wearing the flower crown Entrapta had placed on his head earlier.

“I am not discussing this,” he intoned, but he could tell from the looks on the princesses’ faces that this particular trial was far from over.

“If that’s the way you want it,” Skeletor said, “Then that’s the way you get it!”

#she ra #entrapdak #scorfuma #hordak #entrapta #scorpia #perfuma #skeletor #fan fiction

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lyrazehedgieboiii · 4 years

Note

I have an idea for sonic boom where sonamy boom 3 little kids travel to the past and you know like maybe accidentally used tails invention...when they are in past sonic freaks out at first but then he’s like at the end “am so gonna be the cool parent int the future” teases amy and btw i love ur stories 💗💗

Haha, of course! I swear, as soon as I got on Tumblr and saw your ask, I was like “OMG OMG OPEN A GOOGLE DOC START WRITING DROP EVERYTHING AHHHH”Sorry I’m a bit late, my laptop’s battery went dead and I was scared that the story wouldn’t save, but it did! But now here I am, hope you like it~

“What. The. Hell. Are. Those.” Sonic said, as his eyes grew wide at the little hedgehogs standing right in front of him.

“Hi, dad!” One of the little ones exclaimed. He sure did look a lot like Sonic himself.

“Woah, Sonic, he called you dad! You didn’t tell me you had kids! But don’t you think Amy’s a little too young to have children?” Tails asked his big-brother figure.

“T-Tails, seriously, they aren’t my kids! I’m not dating Amy or anything!” Sonic stuttered. The truth was that he was madly in love with Amy, he just didn’t want to admit it.

“What do you mean, daddy? You always go to mommy everyday and kiss her, and tell her that you love her! You two leave us with Uncle Tails while you go on dates!” The youngest one said. He was an exact replica of Sonic.

“Be quiet, Skid! Daddy tells us that he loves us too! Right, Blur?” The middle one said, looking over to her right, where a midnight blue hedgehog, possibly six, looked up.

“Yeah.” He looked up to Tails. “Uncle Tails, did you make a shrink ray? ‘Cause you look shorter than usual!” Tails looked at himself. He looked completely the same.

“How old are your parents?” Tails asked, hoping he could find out who their parents were. Their parents certainly couldn’t be Sonic and Amy. Amy was only 14, and Sonic was going to turn 18 soon. The oldest child looked about 6. Definitely not Amy’s child.

“Daddy is…” the youngest, who’s name is Skid and was about 3, stared off into space, trying to remember. “27!” Sonic looked surprised. He tugged at his scarf. That would’ve meant that Amy would have his kids at the age of 18...Was he really that much of a wimp?!

“Do mommy and daddy have rings on their fingers?” Tails asked, as if he knew what Sonic was thinking.

“Yes! Mommy has a diamond ring on her finger, along with some other rings.” So, they were engaged at the time?..

“Are they married?” Sonic asked, interrupting Tails from asking the exact same question. All three of the children shook their heads.

“Mommy said that you and her will get married soon, and she said I could be the flower girl!” the middle one giggled. She looked so much like Amy. She had jade eyes, with speckles of emerald in them. Sonic loved her immediately.

“Sonic, these kids must be from the future! How did you three get here?” Tails asked, hoping they would say through his invention.

“Well, you told us not to go near that,” the oldest one pointed to the machine that the kids came through.”

“Fascinating. It must be a time machine.” Tails muttered, forgetting about the four hedgehogs in the room.

“Oh boys! I brought the food you asked for!~” An angelic voice appeared, and the trio ran toward it. Amy was surprised by the sudden warmth on her legs, and found three little hedgies stuck to her, yelling “Mommy!” “You’re back!!” “WHERE WERE YOU?!” Amy wondered whose kids these were and why they were calling her ‘mommy.’ They looked like a mix of herself and Sonic.

“Amy! Thank Chaos you’re here! These kids are from the future! They came through a time machine! They’re ours.” Amy widened her eyes. She looked back at the hugging hedgehogs.

“This isn’t a prank, right? You’re telling the truth?” Amy said in a gentle, sensitive voice, which surprised Sonic, as he was used to hearing her coaching, cheering voice. “You know my feelings aren’t a toy you can just play with.” Yeesh, why was she so moody?

“Ames, it’s not a prank, I swear, they’re our kids.” Amy’s cheeks went red. “No time to fantasize, our future selves are probably worried sick!” Amy shook out of her thoughts and all the questions she had.

“I wasn’t fantasizing! I was just...wondering…” Amy took the kids in her arms, not worrying about their weight, because of the fact that she carries a humongous hammer. She walked over to Tails and put them down. “So, what are your names?” She asked, kneeling down. Sonic had a wave of pride splashing upon his heart. That was weird. It usually happened when Sonic defeated Eggman’s robots or when he saved his friends. The oldest one spoke up.

“I’m Blur, that’s my sister, Ariana, and that,” he pointed to his little brother. “Is Skid.” Amy smiled. She couldn’t believe that these tiny little chubby potatoes were hers.

“Has anyone told you guys how adorable you are?” Only Ariana giggled.

“Yeah, you tell us that everyday, mom.” the oldest one and youngest one said simultaneously. “I see where you get your attitude from.” Amy looked up at Sonic, who was glaring at her.

“Not only attitude, but also good looks~” Sonic posed, pretending to flex his non-existent muscles. Amy suddenly was caught in a daze. She had a lovey-dovey look on her face.

“Oh no, it’s happening again. Even young daddy makes young mommy all red-happy.” Red happy was the sonamy childrens’ way of saying that someone was blushing. They didn’t need an explanation, they understood.

“I WAS RIGHT! IT WAS A TIME MACHIN- Oh sorry, I probably interrupted your little family moment.” Tails said, looking at the young family before him.

“OHOHOHO, SONIC THE HEDGEHOG, PREPARE FOR YOUR DOOM!” A loud explosion was heard, and everyone quickly went outside to see Eggman in his Eggmobile, looking confident, as though he was going to win the battle.

“Ames, stay with the kids, take them inside, and make sure Eggman doesn’t see them!” Tails ‘aww’ed at the sight of Sonic being a protective ‘dad’, but quickly regained focus, and went on the X-Tornado to fire missiles. Amy obeyed the order, and quickly grabbed all three of the munchkins and went inside. The kids were squirming, wanting to go outside and participate, but Amy blocked the only way out.

“Mommy, why are you blocking the door? You always let us go Eggbutt’s robots!” Blur cried. Amy was horrified. Will she really be that irresponsible about the kids when she’s older?”

“No. Not today. It’s not safe, you could get hurt!” Amy said, holding the three in her arms. She heard their complaints, and felt their kicks, but held onto them anyway. She noticed Ariana scooted away from the cuddle-pile. Amy let go of the two in her arms, and walked over to the bubblegum hedgehog.

“What’s wrong, Ariana?” Ariana started whimpering, and that got Amy scared. Did she do something wrong? Ariana jumped into Amy’s arms, getting cradled by her mother. The middle child pulled away.

“I just distracted you so that Blur and Skid could go outside.” Ariana giggled, her laugh sounding a lot like Amy when she was four. Amy ran out the door, leaving Ariana in a puddle of laughter. She saw her targets, and almost fainted. They were battling, and helping Sonic! They were running around, beating the crab-bots and bee-bots with Sonic’s spin dash. With so many Sonic’s at once, the robots were all defeated within fifteen seconds. Sonic gathers his future offspring into his arms and threw them into the air. He caught them before Amy has a heart attack. She walks right up to them and starts to scold them.

“You two should be ashamed of yourselves! Your father tells you to stay inside, I tell you to stay inside, but what do you do?! You have your sister distract me with emotion, and run outside and help your father! I just wanted you three to stay safe! You’re lucky your dad didn’t scold you!” Amy had a dark and scary aura behind her that scared Blur and Skid.

“Mommy?” an innocent little voice melted the hearts’ of everyone that had heard her, except her brothers, you deal with this all the time.

“Yes, Princess?” Amy asked, but then looked at herself in shock. She was aware that this was her future child, and she was aware that she’d only just met them.

“I’m sorry I tricked you.” Ariana said, her eyes full of tears. Yes, of course Amy would feel guilty, Sonic just narrowed his eyes at his future child.

“Don’t get all regretful, Ames. I’ve seen this trick before.” Amy turned and looked at him. What trick? “You used to do this all the time. You’d guilt-trip anyone into getting what you want and making sure you were never blamed for something you clearly did.” Amy just glared at him, his words sinking in. Was she really a guilt-tripper? Well, at least she didn’t blackmail. Ariana made a pouting face at the younger version of her dad.

“Well, this was fun and all, but I think it’s time that the SonAmy children head home.” Sonic and Amy spun their heads to their two-tailed fox friend, who was just standing there with a smirk. Amy felt a bit sad, until Sonic held one of her hands. He smiled. Yes, you read right! He smiled at Amy. She felt happy, and took the kids back inside. Tails walked over to the time machine.

“So, while you were hanging out as a family, I figured out how to work this thing!” Tails exclaimed.

“Make sure ya don’t send them to the dinosaur times. Future me and Amy wouldn’t be very happy.” Sonic said, putting his arms behind his back.

“You know Sonic, I’m surprised how you’re this chill about having kids.” Tails replied, acting like he was fixing something in the machine. Sonic dropped out of his pose and glared at Tails. He glanced at Amy and saw her blush. Perfect opportunity.

“Well, Tails, I sure hope we have more than three, cause it must’ve been fun makin’ those kids.” He humped the air as if he were doing that to Amy. Her face went redder than a tomato and she made a disgusted face at him.

“There are children in our presence! Say something appropriate for once!” Amy yelled at him. He just chuckled, doing his signature rub-under-the-nose thing. Amy rolled her eyes.

“What’re mommy and daddy talking about?” Skid asked his ‘uncle Tails.’

“Grown up stuff.” Tails said, trying to avoid that question as much as possible, not wanting his future nieces and nephews getting scarred for life. They nodded. Tails turned to the flirting couple. “It’s time for you to say ‘bye,’” Tails said, while Ariana nuzzled into his leg. He smiled, feeling a tear slide down his cheek. He hugged the little ones, and pushed them to their past parents. They all hugged, Sonic tried to snuggle into Amy’s neck. They let go, and they lead the kids into the time machine.

“Bye, mom and dad!” they all said. Amy felt like crying again. Sonic held onto her waist, making her hit his arm.

“Yeesh, Ames. I was just trying to comfort you!” Sonic exclaimed, rubbing his arm.

“Stop acting like a married couple! You two aren’t married yet here or in their time.” Tails yelled at them, pointing at their future kids. “Okay, ready guys?” Tails asked. They nodded. He pushed a button, causing them and the machine to go back to their time. “Future me is gonna get beat up by future them.” Tails muttered as he saw Sonic kiss Amy’s cheek and laugh at her reaction.

“I’ll be such a cool dad~” Amy rolled her eyes.

“We’ll see about that.”

Well, you never know what’s going to happen in the future.

This was so much fun to write!!! By the way, I won’t be able to post until the weekend because of University stuff.

#sonamy #sonamy future #sonamy boom #sonamy prompt #sonamy oneshot #tails the fox #amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #sonic trash #lyra ze hedgie boiii #im so tired #hope you enjoyed #hello to the people reading the tags

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shootingcookielover · 4 years

Text

I don’t know. This might be really bad. I can’t tell anymore.

Warnings

suicidal Roman

Characters

Roman, Janus, Remus, “Logan”, “Patton”, “Virgil”

Platonic, maybe romantic Roceit

The edge of Thomas’ consciousness always felt… off. It gave him the creeps, made his skin crawl with the knowledge that just one step was enough to… disappear. Forever.

Potentially. None of them knew for sure; none of them had ever tried. None of them had ever wanted to try.

There was a sort of warning in the air around the subconscious, something that made all the alarm bells in your head ring, your steps falter and your stomach drop.

Like approaching the edge of a cliff when you’re afraid of heights.

Roman pushed a strand of hair out of his face. He pulled his sash into a more presentable position.

It did nothing to help with his looks, he knew. He hadn’t combed his hair that morning - or the morning before that, or the one before that- he hadn’t combed his hair for well over a week.

He hadn’t changed his clothes for the same amount of time.

Hadn’t brushed his teeth.

The last one didn’t bother him too much; there was no need to brush teeth of you didn’t eat, after all.

He had, however, slept a lot lately.

Logan would be proud. The logical side had always insisted Roman sleep more, instead of staying up late to come up with more ideas.

Thick fog rolled out of the subconscious, heavy and gray.

It moved towards Roman, but stayed just an arm’s length away. He felt his own arm rising, moving towards the mist cautiously.

“Roman.”

His hand faltered. He quickly pulled it back. A scowl festered on his face as he turned towards the voice.

Towards Janus.

The snake-like side stood a few steps away.

“What do you want, you reptilian rapscallion?”, he asked, his voice a lot less scathing than he wanted it to be.

Janus sighed. “I could ask you the same.”

Roman was about to retort, when the lying side spoke up again:

“However, I know that I am perhaps the side you want to see the least at the moment, let alone open up to. So I won’t ask. All I’m here to do is make sure you don’t do anything… rash.”

Without the creative side’s consent, words slipped past his lips. “This wasn’t a rash decision.”

His hands formed into fists. “I’ve been planning it for at least a week.”

Janus sighed. “That’s not…”, he cut himself off. “Listen, Roman, I know you don’t like me. But… neither of us wants this… not truly.”

The creative side huffed. “You don’t know what I want, snake.”

“I might not, but I know of your deepest desires. The ones you keep hidden deep down, the ones you lie about. I am those lies, Roman.”

The prince bared his teeth. A quiet growl grumbled in the back of his throat. Though he didn’t know what to say, so he kept silent.

“And I can help you achieve some of them.”

Another huff came from Roman’s mouth. His arms crossed. “How would you do that, Jack the fibber? I doubt you can get Thomas a main role in the next Disney movie any time soon.”

The lying side shook his head softly. “I’m not talking about Thomas’ desires. I’m talking about yours, Roman. The quiet ones you never talk about.”

He lifted his gloved hand, reaching out to the creative side. “All I ask for is a week.”

Roman shuffled his feet uncertainly. He couldn’t trust Janus.

He had a plan.

The subconscious’ presence made the air heavy with an almost depression-like feeling.

It twisted around his heart. The fog behind him closed in, he knew it without needing to look.

Warning bells were set of by it. They sent pictures of his family into his mind, projected Patton’s excited smile before his inner eye, Virgil trusting him with careless touch, Logan admitting in a rare moment of quiet that, maybe, he actually did have emotions.

They lacked Roman’s reaction, to convince the creative side to step away from the subconscious, to take Janus’ hand.

He felt himself hesitatingly raising his hand.

The dim hope growing in Janus’ eyes must have been one of the lies he was known for.

Slowly Roman’s fingers wrapped around Janus’ gloved ones.

“A week.”, Roman said, voice almost completely silent.

The lying side nodded. “A week.”

On day one, Patton showed up on Roman’s doorstep. He wore a smile that was just a little too wide.

“Pat!”, Roman greeted. It wasn’t Patton he knew that. “What are you doing here?”

“I haven’t seen you in a while, kiddo, so I thought I should check up on you!” The other knew as well.

“Well, as you can see I am doing marvelously!”

Patton shuffled his feet nervously. “There might be another reason that I’m here.”

“Oh? Well then, out with it, padre!”

“I was thinking that, maybe… you could show me around the imagination…?”

Roman blinked as he heard those words dripping from “Patton’s” mouth. They filled him with an excitement that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He quickly stepped aside to let the fatherly side in. “You will be absolutely blown away by my astonishing creations!”

This was all that Roman had wanted to do with Patton. Show him the special places he’d created, his subjects, the fabulous creatures roaming his lands.

For Patton to enjoy it all so much, it filled Roman’s heart with warmth and love and if the fatherly side talked with one of the few snakes that didn’t know English, or perhaps let a few lies slip, Roman could overlook it.

On the next day, Logan knocked on his door. Roman was surprised to see the logical side with a plate of still-warm spaghetti in his hands.

“What brings you here, Logan?”

“I have noticed your absence from the last few weeks’ food-gatherings and, as starvation is known to be quite unpleasant, I have decided to bring you breakfast.”, his voice was just a little too robotic.

The logical side raised the plate in his hand.

Roman stared down at it as he slowly took it from the other’s hands. “...Thank you.”, he said, earnestly, voice wavering a little.

Logan nodded. “It is my pleasure. To make sure you actually consume the food, I will stay in your room.”

With those words the logical side pushed past Roman and sat down at Roman’s desk.

The creative side watched the logical one pull out a book.

Roman closed the door.

He finished his food quickly; he had been starving, hadn’t he?

“Sooo”, Roman began as he vanished the empty plate with a wave of his hand. “You gonna leave now, or…?”

The logical side snapped his book shut - a philosophy book; Logan hadn’t been fond of those. “Actually, I have been wanting to teach you how to play chess for a while now, so that we may ‘bond’ and become closer, therefore increasing our joint performance.”

Roman smiled at Logan. “I know how to play chess.”, he remarked, snapping a chess set into existence.

The logical side nodded. “Of course. I apologise for assuming.”

The creative side waved his words off. “It’s fine.”

Surprisingly, playing against Logan was fun and quite difficult. Roman had only ever been able to play with his own creations; they all had very similar strategies to his own, so the logical side posed an actual challenge.

And, if, perhaps, Logan got a bit too into the game, lisped and hissed a few times, then, well, nobody had to know.

On another morning Virgil stood at Roman’s door.

He scuffed his feet at the ground, looking anywhere but the creative side. “...wanna watch some Disney movies?”

The prince blinked in surprise at Virgil’s forward-ness.

The anxious side crossed his arms, a light embarrassed blush rising to his cheek. He had yet to snap at Roman or give him a nickname.

Roman stepped aside, letting Virgil in. The anxious side entered, looking somewhat lost in the giant bedroom.

The creative side closed the door. “So… What movie do you want to watch first?”

Virgil shrugged. “What’s your favorite?”

Roman shook his head. “I can’t choose between them! I love them all equally.”, Virgil should know that.

The anxious side chuckled. “Right. How about… jungle book?”

Roman agreed.

If Virgil didn’t quite act like he usually did when he relaxed, then Roman didn’t mention it.

“Remus?!”

“Hey brother dearest!”

Remus slung his arms around his brother’s shoulders, effectively throwing them both of balance and landing them on the floor.

“Did ya miss me?”

Roman wiggled in Remus’ grasp, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips. “Not really!”

“Well, Double Dee told me to talk to you, so how’d you fuck up?”

Remus sat up finally, still cradling his twin between his legs. “D’ya kill someone? Rip out their heart and hid it in your closet and need a good way to get rid of it? Cannibalism can work!”

Roman shook his head. “No, I didn’t-!”

The creative side pushed Remus off of himself, before scrambling to get to his feet. “I didn’t murder anyone! I’m not…”, his voice trailed off a little as he brushed off his wrinkly clothes.

“...you.”

His twin stuck out his tongue as he flopped to the ground. “If nobody died then why are ya going through the stages of grief, brother dearest?”

Roman’s eyebrows twitched in irritation. “The stages of grief?”

Remus nodded seriously. “You’re at stage 2: Disheveled mess.”

The prince stared for a moment. His curiosity got the better of him. “...what’s stage one?”

“Murder!”, Remus responded gleefully as he jumped to his feet.

“Why did I even-”, he stopped himself. “You know what, I don’t care. Why are you here, Remus?”

The other twin pursed his lips. “I already told ya! Double Dee said you’re upset.”

He bumped his shoulder into Roman’s. “I’m still your brother, Roman.”

The prince had never heard his brother so… earnest.

“Now, wanna go slaughter some innocents? Maybe set an orphanage on fire?!”

Aaaaaand there it was. Roman pushed a stray strand of hair out of his face.

“No, Remus.”

The other twin pouted. “Fine, be boring, then!”, he walked over and flopped onto Roman’s king prince-sized bed.

The prince cringed at the thought of the dirt and disgusting substances Remus must have dragged on his sheets.

The duke rolled about the covers, relishing the bed that was not his.

“So, what do ya wanna do, brother dearest?”, Remus crowed, raising his head so he could make eye-contact with Roman.

A sigh and a plop accompanied Roman’s descent onto his favorite arm chair.

“I don’t know.”

Remus huffed as he pushed himself into an upright position. “Y’know I was joking before but you really are boring sometimes.”

Remus’ words were a strange deviance from the other sides. They usually told him he was “too adventurous”, took “too many risks”, was simply “too much”.

Crunch.

The prince looked up again to find Remus taking a bite out of his bed.

He blinked a few times before surging to his feet. “Remus!”

His brother screeched as he shoved himself backwards, away from his twin.

Roman landed face-first in his sheets. Remus fell off the bed.

He took off, cackling, throwing himself out of the window.

The prince rushed after him. Remus was outside, running along the roofs of Roman’s capital city, with loud maniacal laughter trailing after him.

Roman quickly climbed out of his window as well. “Remus, come back, you ratman!”

There were exactly four knocks on Roman’s door the next day.

He pulled it open with a yawn. His legs still ached from all the exercise he’d done yesterday.

In front of him stood Janus himself.

The snake-like side wore a soft smile that looked just a little off on his face.

“So, what is it today?”, Roman asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Janus shrugged. “I totally have something planned and don’t think we should just do what you want.”

The creative side snorted. “I thought you knew all my ‘deepest desires’.”

Janus sighed, adjusting his head and his stance. “Well, I can’t always distinguish between lie and reality, so.”, the snake-like side shrugged. “I don’t exactly know what you actually want when it comes to me.”

Roman decided to ignore the implications of that statement, instead stepping aside to let Janus in.

The snake-like side took the invitation. His eyes roamed the room, as though he hadn’t seen it before.

“You don’t need to keep up the charade, you know.”, Roman mumbled, slowly closing the door.

He didn’t turn towards Janus, simply leaning his forehead against the wood in front of him.

“...charade?”

The creative side scoffed. “I know it was you. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell?”

A sigh. “...of course you knew.”

“What did you think you’d accomplish by pretending to be them?”, Roman finally turned around.

Janus stared back, an almost lost look in his eyes.

There were tears brimming in Roman’s eyes. “Because all you’ve accomplished is making me feel even worse. You gave me what I can never have. Do you actually want me to dive into the subconscious?!”

Janus winced. He fiddled with his gloves. His eyes were averted.

Roman raked a hand through his hair. The tears spilled, finally. “You do.”, he breathed, leaning against the door behind him. “Great. Maybe I should just-”

“No!”

Roman’s eyes snapped open again. Janus was almost shaking.

“I do- I don’t want you to do that! I… didn’t think…”

Janus stumbled back, there were tears brimming in his eyes too.

“You didn’t think what?!”, Roman snapped.

“I didn’t think you’d want to hang around me!”

Roman’s fist collided with his wall. Pain spiked up his arm. “That’s a terrible excuse!”

Janus flinched. “I… I know. I just…”, he pulled his hat off, fiddling with the rim.

“All of this is garbage!”, the words fled his mouth as Roman slid down to the floor. He buried his face in his hands. “We’re both garbage.”

Hesitant steps.

“I… I really am sorry. I didn’t-”, a sigh, “...give me another chance.”

Roman glared up at Janus from in-between his fingers.

“Another week.”

The snake-like side pulled one glove off his trembling hand. The left hand. Scales littered the skin there.

He held the hand out to Roman.

The creative side scoffed.

“...half a week?”, Janus weakly offered.

“...please?”

He sounded so much like Patton it almost hurt.

Roman took the hand. “Half a week.”

Roman and Janus spent half of the next week together. They traveled through the imagination again, they played chess again, they watched movies together again.

They played video games together, they baked in the dark sides’ kitchen. They stole Remus’ diary - an old tradition Roman had given up on a long time.

The days passed quicker than the creative side had expected. When the set time-frame was over, he found himself back at the edge of the subconscious.

The lazy gray fog didn’t reach out to him this time.

The alarm bells in his head were so much louder now, than they were before. With Patton, Virgil and Logan there was a new face smiling in his mind’s eye, trying to dissuade him from doing this.

Janus.

“I suppose I failed.”

Roman sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “You didn’t.”

“...then why are you here?”

The creative side turned around, facing the snake-like side. A small smile graced his lips. “For old time’s sake.”

Janus gave a tiny smile himself. “Let’s leave.”

Roman took his hand and nodded. “Let’s leave.”

#sanders sides #roman sanders #suicidal thoughts #suicide attempt #janus sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders

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lefaystrent · 4 years

Note

Chaotic!Remus somehow switched Patton and Logan's aspects. Something happened and now logan as morality is breaking down sobbing and can't figure out why. Patton hasn't noticed anything other than super genius (he thinks he's a super hero now)

Logan felt a whoosh gothrough him.

It almost felt like wind, but therewas no breeze to be accounted for. Breezes didn’t exist in the mindscape. But somethinghad passed through Logan.

Logan paused to contemplate.

Nothing else happened so he resumedmaking his sandwich.

He was alone in the kitchen, preparinghis brain food. Just a sandwich and chips, nothing extravagant. It was only lunchtime after all. So he poured some chips from the bag onto the plate and—

One of the chips.

They fell to the floor.

Logan watched horror-struck as thepotato chip bounced off the edge of the plate, slid off the counter, andclattered to the floor.

It was like watching glass shatter.

Or seeing a dog wander into theroad and a car was going too fast and—

The bag of chips rumpled softly asLogan dropped it onto the counter.

He kneeled on the ground, but itwas already too late. The chip was dirty, and there were so many germs on the floor.This chip was inedible.

Logan could feel the loss of whatcould have been swell up in his chest and burst forth from his eyes. Overwhelmed,he dissolved into sobs.

“Logan! You’ll never guess whathappened! I’m a superhero now—wait, what’s going on?”

Patton had slid into view in hiscat onesie. He’d been excited before, but now his head cocked to the side as hewatched Logan bawl on the floor.

Logan pointed to the fallen chip.

“My chip!” Logan sniffled. “Itfell!”

“Oh, that’s sad,” Patton said, butit lacked his usual extra empathetic behavior. He shrugged. “It’s not the endof the world though, kiddo. It’s just a chip. It doesn’t really make sense tocry about it.”

“But I was going to eat it!” Logantearfully explained. In the back of his head, he noticed that his response wasincredibly out of line for his typical stoic behavior; Patton was right, itdidn’t make sense to cry about one chip. But he just couldn’t help it. “Now Ican’t eat it. Do you know how many germs collect on a kitchen floor? Too manyto risk!”

Patton put a hand to his chin inthe classic ‘thinker’ pose. “There are more chips though. There’s a whole bagon the counter. You could eat those.”

“I DON’T WANT THOSE! I WANTED THISONE!”

“Yikes.”

Virgil appeared suddenly as heoften did. He stood between them in the kitchen, headphones on his head. Hepushed them down around his neck.

“I could feel the angst-fest allthe way from my room. What’s up?”

“Logan’s throwing a childishtantrum because he formed an emotional attachment to a single chip.”

“I LOVED THAT CHIP!”

Virgil’s eyes bulged in that waythat said, “This is not the kind of mind-fuckery I signed up for.”

“I—….what?” Virgil asked, trying toprocess just what was happening. Patton was calling people childish? Logan wasprofessing his love for potato chips and crying? Wait, since when did Logan cry?

Patton sighed and shook his head. “Honestly,there’s no need to cause this much of a fuss. If you can’t bring yourself toeat any of the chips in this bag, I’m sure our budget will allow for us topurchase more from the store.”

“I’LL NEVER LOVE ANOTHER CHIP LIKETHIS ONE!” Logan whimpered. Like literally whimpered. Virgil’s jaw dropped.

Patton raised an eyebrow and shareda look with Virgil. “See what I’ve been putting up with?”

Okay, never mind the absolutelybaffling notion of Logan crying over anything. Since when did Pattonjust brush off people crying? Or look down on people like they were silly or stupid?He was acting more like Logan than even Logan was.

Wait…

Virgil looked at Logan. Logan whowas crying over dropping a chip.

Virgil pointed at Logan and Pattonand kept crossing his arms, trying to illustrate the connection his brain hadcaught on to.

“You…you guys, why are you guysacting like each other? Is this a prank? I don’t like pranks.”

“On the contrary, you enjoyperforming mischievous tricks every Halloween,” Patton corrected.

“That’s different. Also, since whendo you ever say ‘on the contrary’? You’ve literally never said that before inyour life.”

“I seem to have acquired the use ofan expanded vocabulary. Don’t I sound more efficient? At first I thought Imight have discovered a superpower, but now I am considering something morerational.”

“Uh, like how you and Loganobviously swapped places or something?”

“Indeed. We do seem to be actinglike each other. My apologies for the confusion, kiddo. Hm, ‘kiddo’ is an oddway to reference you, now that I think about it. You are clearly a man and nota child. I’ll need to rephrase the way I speak to you.”

Logan grabbed the chip bag from offthe counter and tossed it at Patton. “YOU’RE NOT MY REAL DAD!”

Patton brushed the crumbs off ofhimself. “Rude. Also, true. I am not your dad. I am a side of Thomas.”

Logan pouted, no longer crying butvery much teary-eyed. “I want my real dad back. I don’t like this. Everything’sso much all the time and I hate it. Just make us go back.”

“I wouldn’t be able to do that,” Pattonsaid. He glanced up towards the ceiling in thought. “Perhaps Roman would beable to help?”

Virgil frowned. “I bet he hadsomething to do with this.”

“He is the creative side; although,I do think that is an unfair assessment. Roman is, as they say, a ‘good boy’.”

Virgil wanted to snort. Or maybejust bang his head against the wall from the sheer weirdness of the situation.But the way Patton referred to Roman as being the creative side, it made Virgilremember that Roman was not completely the creative side.

Virgil scowled. “Remus!”

“You rang?” Remus said from rightbehind him.

Virgil jerked away and scuttled to theother side of the kitchen. Remus sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed and asmile curling his lips.

“No time for chatting. Just changethem back,” Virgil ordered.

“Who said it was me?” Remus gaspedin offense. But the fact that he didn’t even ask about what Virgil meant wascondemning enough.

Virgil crossed his arms and stampedhis foot.

Remus threw up his hands. “Ugh,okay fine! It was me! You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t say thank you.”

“Well you should. I fixed them. SirStick-Up-His-Ass can finally feel~. And Prudey Pants over there won’t beso scandalized every time I open my mouth.”

“Oh no, I am still scandalized,”Patton said, but it sounded off due to the lack of emotion in his tone. “My reactionsare merely reserved.”

Remus blinked at him.

Then he looked to Virgil. “You know,now that he’s a robot, he’s way less fun. I kinda liked it when I made himscream.”

“Dude,” Virgil made a face at Remus’swording. “Just change them back already. They can barely function like this andit’ll only hurt Thomas in the end.”

“Okay, I’ll turn them back.” Remusgrinned like a shark. “But only if you come back to the dark sides.”

“What?! No!”

“Alrighty then. Have fun with Tweedle-Deeand Tweedle-Dumb then! Byeeee!” Remus waved his fingers at him before disappearing.

Logan let out a pained wail. “I’MGONNA BE STUCK LIKE THIS FOREVER!!!”

“Actually, you’ll only be stucklike this for the remainder of Thomas’s life,” Patton corrected.

Logan just cried harder.

“Hmm, it seems I’ve upset him.”

Virgil rubbed tiredly at his face.He blew out a breath. “No need to freak out. We can handle this. Crazy stuffhappens all the time. Just gotta—figure it out.”

“Maybe we should enlist Roman’sassistance like I initially suggested?” Patton said. “Him and his brother haverelatively the same abilities. Just different usage.”

“I’ll try anything at this point,”Virgil grumbled. “Princey! Get your butt in here.”

“Uh, excuse me! I could have beenin an important meeting,” Roman said, rising up into the kitchen.

Virgil raised an eyebrow. “You’re wearinga fuzzy robe and your nails are half done.”

“And who’s fault is it that they’reonly half done?” Roman sassed. “You could have asked nicely for me to… Why isLogan crying on the floor in the fetal position?”

“Early onset midlife crisis.”Patton nodded seriously.

Roman gave him a narrowed-eyed lookand shook his head. “Okay, what did I miss?”

Virgil let it out all in onebreath. “Remus switched Patton and Logan’s personalities or something and nowthey’ve been acting like each other and it’s super creepy and Remus won’tchange them back so can you just change them back already?”

Roman’s eyes went wide in a dawningrealization. “Why didn’t I ever think of that? Switching spots! Oh my gosh,wouldn’t that be such a cool video idea? Think about it—”

“No! No thinking!” Virgil cut himoff, waving his arms in an X motion. “Just change them back!”

Roman glowered at him. “Well youdon’t have to be so pushy about it.” He snapped his fingers

Instantly Logan stopped crying. Hesat up on the floor and wiped at his face. He stared down at his tear stainedhands in awe.

Patton meanwhile hugged himself. “Ithink I just had an out-of-body experience!”

“How cathartic,” Logan mumbled tohimself, still wiping away the tears.

“You’re welcome, now back to my meeting.Byeeee!” Roman sang and sank out.

Virgil leaned against the fridge. “Idon’t get paid enough for this.”

“You don’t get paid at all,” Loganresponded absently.

“Well I should.”

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #roman sanders #Anonymous

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bluepenguinstories · 3 years

Text

Happiness Overload Chapter Sixty-Two

My little rock was a flotation device against the rest of rushing rapids that made up the pool; the rest of the world, a scattered valley of rocks against a frantic body of water which was once composed of several bodies. Now one, and one that was overjoyed with the prospects of flooding over the little chunks which made up the remaining remnants of land, or being dried out, or come what may.

I sat on the edge, of course, and kicked my feet against the water as I bobbed my head and smiled. If a tune came to mind, I would have hummed it, but none did. Which was fine enough for me. Just the idea that the waters itself were much stronger than my legs, and yet it was the upper half of me which kept me tethered to the ground.

“To think that any moment, I could get swept up and it would all be over!” I remarked, just as overjoyed as the waters, and the ground which kept me ‘down to earth’ (as the saying went).

“I’m glad to see you can still find pleasure as the end draws near,” my old robotic friend and enemy stood behind me, either in scorn or admiration, except I knew it was neither of those things, so it didn’t make much sense to use either descriptors. But it wasn’t just an observation. An analysis sounded like the word she would have used. Like she wanted to gauge who I was.

“I see no reason to be displeased!” I replied.

“It’s uncharacteristic of you.”

“Is it?” I wondered about that. Maybe at one point it would have been. “It’s nice to see you again, by the way, Etna,” I turned at last.

“You as well,” she stated. No hint of emotion, but the word choice was still interesting. No doubt she had capacity for sarcasm. “You always were my favorite.”

“Do you mean that?” I asked.

She shook her head and smiled.

“What does it matter anymore?”

I grinned. “Fair enough!”

‘Favorite’ to her probably meant ‘test subject’ or ‘experiment’ or ‘pet’, anyway. Not that I minded what the context was, as being a favorite in any category delighted me.

I fell back on the patch of dirt, or gravelly rock which I called a bed. In my mind, it was sand, as sand was the thing typically associated with islands, but then again, I guess the place I occupied was too small to be an island.

“Still, it’s funny to thing that it’s been more than four years and soon it will all end. Like, with everything that’s happened, and all this running around, and it’s still happening. Whether it was the way others wanted it to be or not, things really are coming to a close. Really makes you think, doesn’t it?” I asked, although not addressed (necessarily, though there wasn’t anyone else) to Professor Etna.

“Yes. I’ve spent a great deal of my time thinking and little else. If I were powered by a computer, like counterparts of mine in other timelines, I would have ceased to exist long ago. But seeing as we are carry the same being, I remain. What has been four years for you has been much longer for me. In that time, I have stood, watching as the world and all of its inhabitants decay, unable to do anything.”

“That’s not true!” I laughed. “You could have done more things if you wanted to! Like juggle, or play a musical instrument!”

“I have a synthesizer in my mind and can procure the sound of any instrument. As for me doing anything else, yes. But I could no longer control the situation in a way that I saw satisfactory. So I stood and watched as time passed.”

“Huh. Are you unhappy, then?”

I could have called it, but surprise, surprise, she shook her head.

“No. But I’ve accepted defeat. Now I just admire how everything unfolded the way it did. For a while, I held an empire. Domination over the world across timelines. Even if that time has passed, I do not forget the feeling.”

“Still hard to believe that you would just give up. Doesn’t sound...characteristic of you?” I grinned and scoffed. “You can’t tell me you didn’t plan something.”

“Yes. In fact, I did: I created a copy of myself through a USB drive and planned to have the one my likeness was based on upload said copy onto one of the computers aboard The Flashbulb’s HQ. Then, I planned to have my revenge and kill everyone aboard the ship. Eventually, I would introduce myself on a new version of Earth and usher in a new reign. It was a success, too, except as soon as I manifested, she killed me. Or, that copy of me. As things stand, that was my backup plan. Now all that’s left is to die on this planet.”

Hmm...Hmm...Mm...Hmm?

“So you let yourself be defeated, is what you’re saying,” I pointed out. As if it weren’t obvious already.

“What ever could you mean?” She smiled her devilish smile. “Why would I ever do something like that?”

“Beats me! All’s I know is that you’re far too calculating to allow yourself to be defeated like that. Also, that revenge thing? Not your style. Total bluff, if anything. You’re the type to entice others into seeking vengeance, not the other way around. Also, I know how she freed herself of the happiness, but she’d be far too weakened for her to get such a strike in. You know that as well as I do.”

“You wish to take her victory away from her?” She crooned in that sweet, malicious voice.

“A victory is a victory, now matter how it’s achieved. Besides, I’m happy for her. I’d love to see her one more time, but what makes her happy now is being at peace, and what makes me happy is my friends being happy,” I shrugged. “Still, I wonder why you did that. You’re too stubborn to give up and you’re too smart to allow yourself to be defeated.”

“I surprise myself sometimes. Maybe it’s that I’m masochistic as well as sadistic.”

“You got off on your own defeat?” I rolled around and laughed.

“I was offering a possible explanation.”

“Well, whatever it is, what’s done is done. I just found it strange. Like you’ve had a change of heart or something.”

“How is what I did any different than your situation?” She posed the question to me. “You too have given up. Rather than try to fight against the end of the world, or try to prevent your death, you’re just letting it happen.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? I’ll accept any situation as long as I’m still happy!”

“I preferred the old you. You were so fun how you thought that you could make a difference and how fast you turned to despair. You’re no fun the way you are now.”

“Aw,” I tried to sympathize. “If it helps, you can kill me right now.”

“It wouldn’t have the same effect. Could you really call yourself powerless in your current situation?”

I thought about it. In a more literal sense, not at all. At the same time, I didn’t think it was all that different than prior versions of me; sure, I had more control over the situation and if it made me more happy to do so, I would live on. So would the world. But I felt like it needed to happen, for the benefit of others, even if in reality, it may not have made much of a difference, if any at all.

“I’m not powerless in the sense that the way I feel won’t change, but isn’t that a good thing? If you were to kill me on the brink of despair, wouldn’t you have told me, ‘at least you had fun on the way’ as some sort of crooked form of acceptance? Well, at least I saw my friends on the way, and I got to be happy, and really, that’s all I could ask for.”

“But,” I continued. “What about you? If you’re not here to kill me, then does that mean you weren’t the one who wanted me to come down to Earth?”

She shook her head. Right. I should have known already. If she was the one who called for me, she would have made sure I knew.

“But I know who. Such a being is the only one besides us left on this remnant of a planet. You will find him below here. In the middle of this platform is a hole. Down the hole is a flight of stairs. Walk down there, and you will find him, far below the earth. If you wish to think of it in more fantastic terms, you could think of his dwelling as the mythical land of Agartha.”

“Man,” I bemoaned. “That really was the worst singularity. Why couldn’t it have been somewhere cool like Shimousa or Salem, Massachusetts.”

Dr. (or Professor) Etna groaned. It sounded like the humming noise a computer made when it had to let out air because it was running too many processes. Or it sounded like that sound when you put quarters into a soda machine and you hear the rumbling of the can before it goes down the slot.

“Why do you have to turn everything into a reference?” She asked me.

“Beats me,” I shrugged. “Feels like tradition at this point. Like, I’m going to die this way, I may as well mention whatever.” I stood up and walked over to the middle of the ‘island’. Then Etna and I were face to face. She seemed just as imposing, but even less interested in being so.

“You know, the whole ‘hole in the middle of an island’ thing reminds me of when I used to go around in Minecraft and find a small place out in the middle of the ocean and just start digging into the dirt.”

“Ah, yes,” she smiled. “I used to host a private server in my mind and all of these players would get invites, and they all had a fun time. Then when they would go offline, I would take their stuff and throw it into lava. When they went back online, they would get shocked that their items were missing and start to accuse each other of who could have done such a thing.”

First of all, I was shocked that she even heard of that game (then again, why? Supersmart AI, mind is already a computer, likely with an internet connection, what’s the surprise?), but then, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh man,” I gasped for breath as I worked up a hoot. “You were a griefer! That SO fits you!”

“Yes,” she smiled. “How I miss torturing people so. When the euphoria set in, I found less and less people to mess with.”

I looked down. The stairs were inviting, in that ominous ‘you know you shouldn’t, but come on, it’s stairs’ way. After feeling the existential pressure that stairs leading underground could exert, I faced Etna once more.

“Is there any way you can be happy?” I asked her.

“Oh, don’t worry. It brings me great joy just to know that the one who awaits you will find no satisfaction in the end.”

There were other questions I wanted to ask her, like, “you know how Ves is a lesbian, and you’re based on her, so what about you? What’s your sexuality? How does AI sexuality work? Does an AI even have a preference?” But I already knew that she would say something like:

“I derive pleasure both from hurting and being hurt by others. Nothing else.”

And I wouldn’t know what to say to that, because did that mean she was pansexual or asexual? Whatever it meant, it wasn’t my kink (coincidentally, I had no kink), but I was happy that something pleased her. At least, pleasure is associated with happiness. I’m pretty sure.

In the end, all I really said to Etna was:

“Take care.”

She nodded, and I no longer felt her presence. All that was left was to walk down, into the unknown. I felt the ground beneath me quake and I knew that there was no more time left. So I hurried down, into the darkness, and thought about all the light feelings that Euphoria had brought me.

#happiness overload #writing #stories #end of the world #reflective #an old friend #and enemy #fiction #scifi #horror #comedy

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krizaland · 5 years

Note

In all honesty, I don't think the Reader could walk around undisguised in the Zimvoid. She'd have to put on a cape or something cuz the second she's spotted she's be covered in a dozen emotional Zims, holding onto her so tight she won't be able to pry them off of herself. (Also the ensuing chaos as they each try to claim her as their own... oh boy.)

Oh my goodness! The amount of chaos would be hysterical!

In fact! You just gave me the inspiration for chapter 3!

Also I should point out that reader is gender neutral in this story so please use they/them pronouns when referring to them. Thank you for understanding! I love you!

First chapter Previous

While your Zim battled in the arena, you, Dib, and GIR were discussing ways to break into the inner city.

“What if we broke through the wall with a rocket made of flaming cheese?! I LIKE CHEESE!” GIR squealed.

“Seriously?! We’re not doing that! That doesn’t make any sense!” Dib groaned as he dragged his hand down his face.

GIR did not like that answer.

The moment Dib rejected GIR’s proposal, the little robot burst into hysterics.

GIR threw himself on the ground and begun to shriek at the top of his lungs. He banged his fists and kicked his feet.

“Hey! Cut that out!” Dib grumbled as he shot GIR a glare.

“Okie dokie!” GIR chirped as he immediately calmed down.

“How about we-Hey!” You were cut off by 2k hugging your legs.

“Hey! Let go of alternate Y/N!” Palindrome demanded as he tried to pry 2k off of your legs.

“No! They’re mine! MINE!” 2k hissed as he clung to you for dear life.

“No! Y/N is MINE!” Palindrome whines as he continued to try to pull 2k off of you.

“Guys! Guys! Calm down!” You pleaded.

Soon the sound of Palindrome and 2k’s struggling attracted the attention of a few other rebel Zims.

“A Y/N?!” A Zim with bunny ears cried out.

“A Y/N?!” Cried out a Zim with three eyes.

“Mmmph mmph?!” A Zim with no mouth whimpered.

Soon the other rebel Zim’s heard the commotion and got very excited.

Suddenly, the ground shook and the sounds of excitedly screaming Zims drew closer.

“Stampede!!” Dib screeched as he tried to make a run for it.

2k tried to pull you out of the way but he was too slow.

FWUMP!

SQUISH!

PAF!

You found yourself engulfed in a sea of lovesick Zims.

“SWEET Y/N! OH HOW I’VE MISSED YOU” Cried one Zim.

“I NEVER THOUGHT I’D SEE YOU AGAIN” Sobbed another.

Soon all of the sobs and squeals of the excited Zims begun to melt away into static. You couldn’t even hear yourself think! All you could do was stand there as Zim after Zim tried to hold you close.

“HEY LET GO OF ALTERNATE Y/N! THEY’RE MINE! I SAW THEM FIRST!” 2k demanded as he plowed through the sea of excited Zims.

“NO WAY! ALTERNATE Y/N IS MINE!” Palindrome countered as he pushed a few of the Zims off of you.

“YOU’RE BOTH WRONG! A Y/N THIS BEAUTIFUL BELONGS TO ME!” Another Zim whined.

Soon the Zims’ excited squeals erupted into a furious argument.

There was screaming and name calling! Countless Zims tugged you in every direction! Some Zims even started to throw hands!

You let out a distressed yelp as you desperately struggled to get away from the chaos!

After what felt like an hour of pandemonium, you finally managed to break free from your Zim prison and made your way back to Dib and GIR.

“Oh god! Who knew being around so many Zims would be such a nightmare?!” You panted as you slowly sat down to catch your breath.

“Me! I knew! This place is a horrific never ending nightmare!” Dib wailed as he grabbed the sides of his head.

Soon Palindrome and 2k managed to break free from the Zim prison as well and managed to make it back to you.

“Alternate Y/N! Are you alright?!” 2k panted as he rushed up to you.

“Guh…That was rough.” Palindrome heaved as he flopped onto the ground.

“Yeah,I’m fine just out of breath.” You let out a half hearted chuckle as you wiped a few beads of sweat off of your forehead.

“It seems that your beauty is driving the other Zims to madness!” 2k noted as he crawled onto your lap.

“Um, 2k…Your sitting in my lap”

“Gah! It seems even I am not immune to your charms!” 2k yelped as he jumped off your lap.

“Geez. It’s almost like Y/N is a Zim magnet or something!” Dib grumbled as he squeezed int between you and 2k

“Wait! That’s it! That must be what your thing is!” 2k gasped as he smacked his fist into his open palm.

“Thing? What are you talking about?” You inquired as you raised an eyebrow.

“Every Zim in the Zimvoid has a thing that separates them from the rest! I’m guessing that each of our respective Y/Ns have a thing as well!” 2k explained as he pointed to the sky.

“I see…So what exactly do you think my thing is?” You asked as you straightened up a bit.

“Is not obvious, alternate Y/N?! Your thing is that you’re incredibly attractive to Zims!” 2k explained as he gestured to you.

“I wonder if this means my Y/N is also attractive to other Dibs as well.” Dib thought to himself as he looked longingly at you.

“So that’s why you’re so pretty!” Palindrome chirped as he pulled himself off the ground.

“Does that mean Master is pretty too?!” GIR chirped.

“Well of course, he’s pretty! He’s a Zim! All Zim’s are attractive! Especially me! I’m the most attractive Zim of them all!” Palindrome boasted as he gestured to himself.

“You wish! Everyone knows that I’m-” 2k began.

“Guys! You’re both cute! Now can we stop fighting already?!” You snapped as you folded your arms.

“Right! We need to focus on the problem at hand!” Palindrome agreed as he turned his attention to you.

“Y/N! As much as it pains me to admit it, if you’re going to break into the inner city, then we’re going to need to hide that beautiful face of yours!” 2k sighed.

“Are you saying I need a disguise?” You asked as you raised an eyebrow.

“Well I was just gonna put this paper bag over your head but your idea works too!” 2k mused as he threw aside a large paper bag.

“YAY! TIME TO PLAY DRESS UP!” GIR sang as he ran off and brought back a bunch of scrap metal and garbage.

“Thanks GIR but I don’t think-” You we’re cut off by GIR shoving a metallic finger in your face.

“Shhh! I’m gonna make you look so pretty!” GIR whispered as he got to work.

And with that, GIR got to straight to work.

After a few minutes of GIR giving you a very questionable ‘makeover’ he pulled out a reflective shard of glass.

“DONE! Aww! You look so cute!!” GIR cooed as he showed you your reflection in the glass.

You let out a surprised gasp. You actually did look kind of cute.

Your head was covered in a ‘hat’ made from assorted pieces of scrap metal. Some pieces of scrap metal looked like Zim’s antennas. You were also wearing a pair of ‘goggles’ with ruby red lenses. You were also wearing a necklace made of assorted shiny pieces of trash.

“Wow! This is actually pretty good! Nice work GIR!” You praises as you gently took the glass shard from him.

“Aww! Thank you!” GIR giggled.

“Say, what’s this green stuff on my face?” You asked as you noticed the green ‘foundation’ on your face.

“I made it using grass!” GIR sang as he held up a few clumps of grass.

“You’re still so attractive! But it’ll have to do! At least you don’t look like a Y/N anymore.” 2k admitted as he inspected GIRs handiwork.

“You look like a really attractive Zim, Y/N!” Palindrome let out a dreamy sigh as his PAK sparked.

“Heh. So I do.” You giggled as you playfully posed in the mirror.

Dib’s eye twitched when he noticed your ‘makeover’. Without saying a word, Dib let out an insane scream and ran off shrieking gibberish.

“Dib! Come back! We need your help!” You called after him.

#Invader zim #Invader zim x reader #invader zim enter the zimvoid #dib x reader #fandom-will-be-my-fall #Invader Zim comics #Invader Zim dib #Invader Zim spoilers #spoilers #invader zim into the zimvoid

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summahsunlight · 4 years

Text

Good-Bye, My Love

Rating: T

Word Count: 2413

Summary: Letting go is the hardest thing to do. Tony centric, other characters mentioned/present. Written January 2014

Characters: Tony--but all others are mentioned, or appear at least once

Warnings: Tony centric, not Tiva, angst

It was late. Almost three in the morning and Tony was still awake. He didn't care about the fact that he had to be back at work in four hours or that his stomach was wildly protesting that he had not eaten in about six hours.

Tonight, however, he could just not turn his brain off.

He fiddled with his cell phone. Keeping his hands busy was in a weird way helping him think, while his eyes were posed on the screen of his laptop. Had it really been almost eight months since he had stared at it in May, willing it to tell him where Ziva had disappeared too? A lot had happened in those following months. Not all of it was good. Some of it had been, but after the attack at the gala, well, the blood of the wounded and the six dead had just stained that good. And there had been so many times in those months that he had sat in front of that computer, writing email after email to the woman he'd left behind. There was never any response, he didn't expect one, but he liked to imagine that Ziva was at least reading her emails.

So, here Tony sat at three in the morning, a blank screen in front of him. He had started this email at least a hundred times but quickly erased it. He knew, deep down inside that this was not something that could be written in an email. He thought about calling her but didn't know if she would be receptive. At this point, he'd come to the conclusion that he should just send a text asking if it was okay to call her. What would the harm be in that? A simple text asking if he could call, that he needed to talk to her.

Tony found himself playing a game of roulette—the odds of her answering his text was probably astronomical, but he had to send it. So, with slightly shaky fingers, he carefully wrote out, Ziva—I need to talk to you, please let me know when I can call. He hit send, slammed his laptop shut, drowning the living room in darkness and laid down on the sofa to finally fall asleep.

He must have checked his phone at least twenty times before getting off the bus. Even though it was on he was afraid that he'd miss her text or perhaps her phone call. He kept telling himself that she was going to answer him this time. She had to answer him this time.

"Oh, hi," Bishop's voice cheerfully greeted him when he strolled into the squad room. "Gibbs called to say he won't be in today but rule 3 still applies—what is three again?"

"Never be unreachable," Tony rehearsed monotonously. He put his badge and weapon away in the top drawer, resisted the urge to open the other to look at her necklace.

"I'm not even sure how you guys keep up with all the rules. I mean…there are sixty-two of them."

Tony sat down in his chair and glanced at his phone once more, even though he knew it had not vibrated to indicate he had a message. "Guess it's just a part of the job."

Bishop wasn't taking the hint that he wasn't in the mood to talk. He liked her. She was smart. But she definitely could not read people socially, and it wasn't like she did it on purpose after all. "He doesn't have them written down somewhere? I mean that would be really helpful. And I tend to get things to stick better in my head if I read them so, I'd really enjoy a Gibbs Guide to the Rules or something similar."

"They're not written down anywhere to my knowledge. His job is to teach them to you," Tony mumbled, rifling through his paperwork to dig into reports and requisition forms that he was severely behind on thanks to their hunt for Parsa. "Any more questions, Bishop?"

"Nope," she said with a smile and a shake of her head. With that she went back to work.

Something else he liked about her. Despite the fact that she wasn't the best at reading subtle hints, she did know that when the conversation was obviously done, it was done and she didn't push. Kate had pushed him, Ziva had pushed him, and to extent at times McGee had pushed him. All to the point where he'd found it difficult to open up to his team—Tony was trying to change. Hell, he'd made that damn casserole for McGee after all. Which reminded him, when he'd gone to drop it off the night before Tim had not been home. He'd left it on the doorstep with a note. Hope he got it. Damn, I should have called.

Thinking about this now, he glanced at his phone again. Tim was probably at the hospital with Delilah who was still recovering from her injuries. He wouldn't answer his calls, but he would answer a text message.

In no time his partner had responded thanking him for the casserole and that it was a really nice gesture, and Tony felt a sharp pain in his gut. Ziva still had not responded to him. Again he found himself typing a text to her, Please, Ziva, there's something…there's something important I need to talk to you about. Can we chat? Tonight maybe?

With a sigh, Tony put the phone back into his pocket. It was going to be a long day of paperwork and waiting for her to answer. At least it couldn't get worse.

It got worse. It got much worse.

Tony came back from lunch to only be called into the conference room. Bishop, Abby, Ducky and Jimmy were already there waiting. Tony glanced around the table at them and his nerves suddenly were on edge. "What's going on?"

"We don't know, Anthony," Ducky said, gesturing for the SFA to take a seat at the table. "Jethro called twenty minutes ago and asked that we meet him here."

"Last time we had a covert meeting I ended up loosing my badge," Tony snarked as he sat down.

"I highly doubt that if what Jethro had to say to us is confidential, then he'd be meeting us in here, where there are cameras," Ducky said with a smile.

Tony felt very little ease at his words. Something was obviously wrong. Gibbs would not have called to gather them all here, in the conference room, at the same exact time if something was not wrong. His fears and worries were justified when the team leader opened the door and walked in, McGee slowly walking behind him. The probie looked defeated, he did not look fine like he had suggested the day before. And Gibbs, while his body posture was the same as always, Tony could tell by the look in his eyes that the news they were about to share was not good. And for a fleeting moment Tony feared that Delilah had succumb to her injuries and passed in the middle of the night—it would explain Gibbs' absence this morning. He'd been with Tim, helping him mourn. Right? After all we've been through Tim has to lose the best girlfriend he's had in years, what more can you throw at us, God?

Gibbs shut the door and nodded towards McGee. "Tim has something he wants to tell you."

Tim. He used McGee's first name, Tony noted, Gibbs very rarely used the younger agent's first name. Tony's fists clenched nervously underneath the table. He felt the cold dread that he felt in the orchard at the first moment he knew that Ziva was not coming back with him.

"I…I haven't been very honest with you," McGee began with a heavy sigh, "everything is certainly not fine."

"Oh my God, McGee! Did Delilah need to have another operation?" Abby squeaked, her eyes welling up with tears. "What haven't you told us?"

"No, there are other operations planned," McGee assured her. "It's just…her injuries, well…they're more critical than I let on."

Ducky nodded his head. "Understandable, Timothy. Miss Fielding had numerous pieces of shrapnel removed from her body and that alone would cause trauma to vital organs in her body—oh my, I did not realize until now. I apologize Timothy."

Tony noted the sudden change of tone in his voice but he didn't need the medical examiner's tone change to let him know what Tim was trying to say. He was a trained investigator after all. "She's paralyzed," he simply stated.

"Y-yes. A piece of shrapnel transected her spinal cord," McGee stammered.

Silence fell into the room like an anvil. Tony suddenly felt so small and helpless—and stupid for pining away for Ziva to call him. McGee had a real life problem, with real life consequences and all the emotions that came with it. He should be the one falling apart, not Tony. "Aw, McGee, I'm sorry," the SFA whispered, sounding so terribly cliché to his ears.

But it was all that needed to be said. In an instant Abby was on her feet engulfing McGee into one of her hugs, Ducky and Jimmy were offering any medical advice that they could. Bishop bit her lower lip and glanced at Tony. And he knew—she felt as helpless as he did. Delilah and McGee had a long, painful road a head of them, and his probie was going to need him to hold him up, look out for him and he couldn't do that if he couldn't stop himself from running around in circles. Suddenly, his whole life the past six months had been shoved into perspective. Only he could end this misery he'd put himself in.

It was time to move on.

Arriving home after what was arguably one of the worst, case-less days of his life, Tony shoved his way into his apartment and slammed the door shut. He'd spent the rest of the day going through his paperwork as if he was a robot, all the while thinking about how McGee must be feeling. Bishop had talked his ear off, nervously, for the rest of the afternoon—citing articles and research about people who had suffered traumatic injuries rising above the challenge and living a normal, happy life.

What is normal? Tony asked himself as his back pressed into his apartment door. He had no doubt that Delilah had the determination to rise above, after of course her grieving process. But really, what was normal? Wheelchairs and doctor's appointments and whatever else accompany a person who has no use of their legs.

"Be happy you're goldfish," he mumbled to the two white and orange fish swimming about in the bowl. "Your life is so much easier than mine."

Tony put his weapon and badge away, hung up his coat, and went into the bedroom. He flicked the light on and looked around. Since returning from Israel he'd made some changes in his apartment. Maintenance had filled in the bullet holes and painted, replaced the glass in his window. Tony had bought a brand new, state of the art stereo. But the biggest change had come in the room that hadn't been touched by bullets. If he wanted to change, if he wanted to let people in—if he wanted to let a woman in—he needed a bigger bed.

Yanking his tie loose, Tony tossed it on that bigger bed now before he discarded his suit coat. Finding his sweatpants and a tee shirt, he changed, knowing that tonight, with half of his team at the hospital with McGee they wouldn't be called on a case. He was glad for this, because, frankly he was exhausted. Parsa was Homeland's problem now and the MCRT could recover from another one of his blows.

So, for the second night in a row, Tony found himself staring at his computer screen. This time he knew what he had to do. He found his cell phone and dialed her number, the landline number she had given to him just before disappearing. It rang a few times but then a machine picked up and her voice could be heard asking the caller to leave a message.

Tony took a deep steadying breath. "Hello, Ziva. If you're there, pick up or even if you are but just can't come to the phone—at least listen to me. Parsa struck again, gala in DC—Delilah was hurt, badly. Tim is fine. I'm fine and so isn't Gibbs. I just…I just thought you should know. We miss you Ziva. But I didn't call to beg you to come home—you made your decision. I hope your clean break, fresh start, whatever you want to call it, is treating you well." He paused for a slight second trying to gain his line of thought. Calling her at this number had been so impulsive. "We're…well Homeland is still looking for Parsa. I hope someone has your six over there, Ziva. Parsa…he isn't the only reason I called. We got a new team member. She's NSA, on loan really, but I'm starting to warm up to her. I think you would like her. Anyways, you don't have to call me back. Just felt like you'd…be interested in what's going on. And don't think that it's all bad news—cuz it's not. I, um…I met someone."

It seemed like the perfect time to pause. He wasn't sure why. Maybe to give her some time to process. He took another deep breath. "Nothing…nothing's happened between us..yet. I've been so confused, Ziva. About whether I should wait for you or not. But then…I remembered something you said to me. You told me that I had to let you go, that this clean break was not just for you, it was for all of us. It's just taken me longer to make the break I guess…and…and I'll always hold you in a special place in my heart, Ziva. Shalom ahuvati."

Holding back his tears, Tony hung up the phone and felt the weight lifting from his shoulders, the freedom letting go had offered him, even as halfway around the world, she sat next to her phone crying—not for them, or their opportunities lost, but for their clean breaks finally coming to fruition.

#ncis #ncis fanfiction #tony dinozzo #timothy mcgee #ziva david #not tiva #good bye my love #unconditionally series

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