#ice is questioning his sanity because he knows he's stuck with them both for the rest of his life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pilot-boi · 3 months

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god now i’m just imagining Blake suddenly realizing and saying “you knew you had to drink the poison”

And Jaune just isn’t able to meet anyone’s eyes

The five sit around a campfire scrounged together from dead brush in an alcove protected from the desert wind. Their conversation is slow, comforting, filled with hushed reassurances and rueful laughter.

With the benefit of distance, of being free, talk eventually turns to Jaune’s missing years. Simple curiousity, simple questions.

He doesn’t answer everything, but every word he says seems to draw some invisible hurt from a wound left festering for too long.

It’s Blake that brings it up.

Of course she is. She was the one to realize they were in a fairytale, the one who reminded them all how to play along with the fantasy while keeping their sanity. Their resident bookworm.

Of course she’s the one who realizes that their friend knew going in that he was probably going to die before the end of “the story.”

“Jaune?” Blake’s voice is quiet, but calm as a pool of water. “You knew, didn’t you?” Weiss can see how her amber eyes narrow, the agitated flick of her ears, but none of her distress is betrayed in her voice.

Which is just as well, because Jaune doesn’t meet any of their eyes, he just watches the fire. The white locks in his hair are stark against the rest, and not for the first time Weiss wonders if they’re a result of age or stress or something worse.

“Not right away,” he replies. And is that better or worse? That it took a little while for him to realize that he’d die before the story’s end, and he still kept to the script? “Before we reached the Red King.”

“Were you… Did you…” Weiss isn’t sure what she wants to ask, or if she even wants an answer. Were you scared? Did you know when it would happen? Were you ready? Did you want it to happen?

“I had to follow the story,” he says eventually, his voice breaking with emotion. Aged beyond his years, and yet still as young as any of them. “I had… It was my role. I couldn’t- I had to-”

“The Rusted Knight drank the poison in her stead,” Ruby says hollowly. “Would you have done it for me?” Jaune’s head shoots up, fast as a bullet, his face a mask as hard as the metal of his helmet.

Blue eyes aged beyond the years of the face they rest in meet silver eyes haunted by death and rebirth. The tension in the air is taut as a bow string, as the two leaders seem to communicate something only they understand.

A chunk of ice the size of her fallen home drops into Weiss’s stomach. The poison. The tea.

If Jaune had been there in time, would he have even hesitated to drink the tea for Ruby? Finally fulfilling his fairytale role? Finally doing something “right?”

Weiss is quite sure that would’ve only ended with BOTH leaders on the verge of ascension, instead of one. Because if Ruby had lost another friend, Weiss is certain that it would’ve pushed her over an edge she would never have returned from.

The desert wind fills the silence.

Jaune’s gaze falls back to the fire. “After the Herbalist, I was desperate to get the story back on track. I would’ve done anything to fix what I broke.”

“Even die?” Yang’s voice is steady as stone, but her hand is shaking in Blake’s grasp.

There are tears dripping down his face. He never processed this, Weiss realizes. He never processed anything, stuck as he was as the only thing changing in a world where everything stayed the same.

“I just wanted to do something right.” His voice sounds like he dropped it on the floor, it shattered, and he kept using it anyway. Cracky in that way it used to in Beacon. Too old and too young.

“I was the Rusted Knight, a paragon of virtue and glory, but I was messing it all up.” As he speaks, his voice gets more frantic, more hitched with tears. “We were at the end, there was no more story left. There was only one thing I could do to make sure they got their happy ending. And- And I-”

“I’m glad you didn’t have to,” Ruby interrupts, her voice choking with tears. I hate that it happened, that she poisoned you, but I’m glad you didn’t have to.” And again, it’s his fellow leader’s voice that draws Jaune out of himself.

But this time he looks like Jaune, all wide eyes and soft edges, not the metal of the Rusted Knight he was protecting himself with before. And Ruby looks like Ruby, older and wiser but with a spark of hope in her teary eyes that Weiss didn’t realize has been missing until they all almost lost it forever.

Ruby stands and walks around the fire, her boots making furrows in the sand, and pulls him into a hug. Jaune blinks, half afraid, half confused.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Weiss barely hears Ruby murmur this over the crackle of the flames, and whether she’s talking about Penny or Alyx or Pyrrha or Atlas or any number of things that both leaders have blamed themselves for over the years, Weiss doesn’t know.

But what she does know is that when Jaune chokes out a sob and buries his face in Ruby’s hair, and Ruby drops to her knees clings to her best friend like he’s the only thing anchoring her to Remnant, something slots back into place in the universe. Something that fractured almost beyond repair on the shore of a razed village of paper stars.

Jaune’s hair is streaked with white, Ruby’s whole body is shaking with sobs, and Jaune is whispering apologies that Ruby is meeting with her own. But they’re both still here. It feels like healing, or the very start of it.

And maybe Jaune would have drunk the poison for Alyx, but he didn’t get to. And maybe Jaune would have drink the tea for Ruby, but he didn’t get to. The world was full of what-ifs, gods the Ever After probably used as them as damn building blocks.

But what matters is that he didn’t, and that he would never have to.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #mine #asks #my writing #ethans express

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electricbluebutterflies · 2 years

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Jess/Leto + "You're covered in blood, need to tell me something?"

And this time we cross-post several WEEKS late... idk, these babes do very well elsewhere but I’m not sure how to tag them here so the motivation to crosspost is low. Aaaaanywho, throwing this one in the queue and giving up a little. Early-relationship and also on ao3

In fairness, her door is open, and that’s unusual enough to make him curious, and…

This will end badly. This has been fated to end badly since that storm-cloud of a day a year ago now when it was made all too clear that his life was still not his own and all hope of trying to make it quiet didn’t mean a damn thing. And yet this manifestation of everything he never wanted is all too fascinating, and maybe that’s how it happens, maybe that’s how he slips up however many years down the line it happens, maybe-

No. He will not blame an innocent young woman for things he doubts she’s even really capable of doing. Even if it becomes the end of him, he will do better than that.

Her door is open, and he hears running water, and what limited self-preservation instincts he has are screaming that maybe this is a terrible idea and that makes him all the more interested. A year she’s been here, a year of separate lives apart from the desperate nights and a handful of attempts at socializing her and oh he’s regretted every one of them and yet-

There is something in her, buried under unknown countless layers of ice and pain, that could be beautiful if allowed to grow. He can’t prove it yet, and maybe it’s just delusional hope or some manipulation, he knows she’s capable of it, women with her kind of powers can do almost anything and-

If she were to manipulate in an inhuman way, he’d like to think, it wouldn’t be like this. Not this growing desire to know her, to get past her defenses and confirm that instinct that she is something so much more than she’s shown so far. Prove everyone around him, all the voices he listens to about everything else but not about the potential and the uses of this delicate damaged woman, completely wrong.

The water stops as he crosses a boundary, as she twirls around as they come into each other’s range of sight and oh what a sight she is. Covered in red, covered in…

“You’re covered in blood,” he says, because tact and restraint are for public display not for questioning his lover’s sanity in a private space. “Need to tell me something?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” and oh he’s fascinated by her, how fearless she is, shoulders back and eyes up, fearless even as she’s up to her elbows in yeah that is definitely not her blood and-

“Can you even see yourself right now?”

“I am fine,” she says, and were it not for her current condition she’d probably have a hand on her hip right now and does she even know what a beautiful change of pace she is and-

“Keep saying that and see if I can believe you any less.”

“I did what I had to do, and it’s over, and I won.”

Spectacularly unhelpful. He expects so little and still-

No. Whatever happened, whatever will come to light in the next day or two, he trusts her. He has no good reason to, and this scene here should turn down those reckless feelings he needs to do something about before they destroy but instead there is something darkly beautiful about it all and-

“Do you want help?”

“I’ve got this.”

“I can see that, but-“

“Don’t you have something better to do?”

He gives her a look – they both know she knows his schedule better than he does, he’s not entirely sure but she’s not near as subtle as she thinks she is and it’s just one of what he suspects will someday become a great many things they do not discuss for the sake of domestic peace and-

He wants that with her, he realizes in that moment. The idea of some kind of domestic future with her, every scrap of it that the fates will allow them, is strangely appealing. At least she’s capable, at least she’s not some delicate exotic flower like he’s already hoping to avoid getting stuck with, he can’t imagine any acceptable woman would do whatever-this-even-is and somehow that feels like a disadvantage and-

“What if I want to help you?”

“Why would you do that?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be able to see through me? Tell me.”

This is how nice people get murdered, he can’t help but think. Death by misfit witch who’d rather stab people than admit she has actual emotions. He’s pretty sure that would be a new one for his bloodline, and what a way to end it, and-

“You’re not scared of me,” she says after a few moments, and he can feel her eyes wandering and finding every weakness and honestly he should be scared and maybe that’s why he isn’t. “You think I don’t trust you and you want to change that. You thought it was my blood at first. You… you care about me too much.”

“I’m not sure how getting blood off your skin would be inappropriate compared to-“

“It’s the intent. You didn’t come in here because you… wanted me.”

“You left the door open. You don’t… do that.”

“Forgive me for being a little distracted,” she hisses, and there is so much sass in it, girl who doesn’t think anything can actually hurt her and-

“Is it alright that I-“

“Yes. You’re not… you’re taking this better than I would’ve expected.”

“I trust your judgment. Whatever that was, I’m assuming…”

“Not an interplanetary incident and not a dramatically missing piece of your circles. Better you don’t know beyond that.”

He takes this as permission enough to move around her, to dip a cloth in still-warm water and take her hands. It’s alright, he wants to say. Whatever she did, and let him not know, let him never know what she does that requires such darkness… whatever she did, she is forgiven and she is under his protection, let that be enough, let this affection that could become something dangerously too much like love be enough, please let-

She is beautiful like this, eyes closed yet still more aware of surroundings than he is, perfectly still and unusually compliant but not and never submissive. Fierce, he’d thought the day they met before he even saw what she has become so far. How strong she will become given time and space, perhaps they will be real, perhaps-

Her fingers curl around his, and a year she’s been in his bed and this is somehow more intimate than anything they’ve ever done in half-light.

It takes longer than he expects to help her, and by the time he’s finished parts of her skin are red for a different reason, and perhaps this becomes normal, he would enjoy being her safe place after she protects them, after she-

“I’ll leave you be,” he says as it is done, letting go slowly and stepping back and-

“You don’t have to. I’d allow… you came in here for something.”

“Just making sure you were alright. I wasn’t sure if something terrible had happened or-“

“Not terrible. I won’t lose sleep over it. I’m fine, really.”

“You could… if you need anything…”

“I’ve bothered you enough. We are not… I am not-“

“You haven’t done anything I can’t-“

“Will you say that in a day or two when the body washes up?”

“I trust you,” he says again, and he suspects he will say this many hundreds of times before she fully believes him but he is willing, he is-

“Why?”

“You’re not scared of me either.”

He takes her hand again for a moment and brings it to his lips, furthest affection that feels appropriate for the strangeness of the situation and wanting to do right by her, before backing away before he does anything that might be improper or-

“Keep my secrets,” she says before the distance is too great. “Please.”

“No secrets to keep. I wanted to see you. That’s all anyone needs to know.”

“Thank you. I… I would not have-“

“I trust you. You were sent to protect. You have. I don’t want to know how you do it.”

He wonders, as he walks away and leaves her, if this is the right choice. If he has, perhaps, allowed a snake to cuddle too close. If-

No. This is real, she is real, and her loyalty turns more towards him with every little kindness. Nothing to regret in that. Nothing to fear.

#leto x jessica #ebf writes fic #someone PLEASE tell me what to tag these babes your girl is lost here #queue

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samissosexyyy · 3 years

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Tumblr thought it would be hilarious to delete all my work and not let me answer requests :').

YES I SHALL WRITE THE PLATONIC ANGRY PARENTS-

And thank you-I woke up and was talking to my friend in the morning and my brain just: jojo villain yandere dads. Mudad mudad mudad mudad anger.

Anyways, here they are- Do these even count as headcanons???? I dunno-

Dio, Part 1

Vampire form of course.

First thing first, We all know he'd be a great dad. Protective already, But make him a yandere platonic father? Oh boy, Trust me, You'd be spoiled and treated like royalty.

Now, I'm gonna say in this scenario you were on of his victims child. I'll say you'll be around 5 to eight.

Somehow you managed to catch his eye, Is it because your parent was just as bad as his? You reminded him of his mother? Or maybe you resemble him, and have three moles on your ear. Or, perhaps, A younger joestar? Either way, You somehow had him feeling like a father, and, according to one of my friends, Araki had said DIO would treat his children like they were royalty, And they would be so spoiled.

So, Mudad would end up taking you in, kidnapping, whichever honestly. He'd be holding you like a loving pet owner would, if you got scared, he'd probably be confused. Honestly he'd have you turned into a vampire quickly, as he knew he wouldn't be able to have children as a Vampire.

Truthfully, I think you'd end up never noticing how he'd occasionally pull you closer, or how he'd glare at anyone your age or older going near you. Or how he'd give you some strict rules, Like no dating anyone. E v e r. And why would you ever want to hurt your papa like that?! You wouldn't want to do that, right?! Of course you wouldn't! Dio knew you'd never betray him like that!!

Truth be told, he'd guilt you if you tried to go against his words. But punishments? No no, He'd never actually purposefully hurt you, Unlike his love interest, he'd NEVER want to cause you pain ever. He'd hate himself and wouldn't forgive himself for years. Centuries. Infact, he'd beg for your forgiveness.

The Pillarmen

And satannnaaaaa

First of all, You aren't a pillarchild. You'd most likely be some kind of god, vampire, or a young hamon learner. Or even related to the Joestars or Ceasar.

So, Let's say you're immortal who can walk in the sun. We all know you'd be the joestar side, Right? So, That means you'd end up hating or feeling pity for the pillarmen. First, You'd probably end up trying to make Santana hally when he awakens. Unlike with Joseph, He'd probably know not to attempt to attack you. Let's say you have symbols like Dio Over heaven, We all know how that would work.

You'd end up as a being worshipped by them, probably kidnapped after they destroy the Joestars.

Let's say they defeated Joseph and the others, and you were still a deity, You'd most likely be weaker then them in this scenario. They'd probably treat you like a kitten at first, like a baby before they all felt a connection. As if you were a child of their own, so they'd give you rules. And we all know how rules go with yanderes.

Let's say uh- you fell for a mortal.

"No. No."

[Crush name has fallen from a high place.]

"DADS WHAT THE FUUUUUUUUU-"

"NO CUSSING IN THIS CHRISTIAN MINECRAFT SERVER!"

or something like that :')

Honestly, You'd have bird dad, and a bunch of other dads. Santana would honestly be like the cool big brother honestly. You'd probably want horns too so-

They would totally buy you halloween horns to put on your head so you'd be happy baby

Now, Hamon user? They'd probably find you like a cute animal at first, probably going easy on you like it was a game of tag. Soon, they'd realize how weak and fragile you are, After all, You are just starting hamon. They'd probably kidnap you to spite Joseph and his side at first, before... Well, You didn't expect to become a vampire and treated like royalty when all you've been treated like is uh... Considering Lisalisa is your coach, I'd say you'd be happy if it was someone else doing this for you.

Josephs sibling? WOAH Joseph, When did you get a cute sibling? Pfft, Not your sibling anymore, They just adopted your ex sibling nerd.

But, All jokes aside, They'd probably be surprised that you were more mature then your brother, and...you sorta resemble a certain Coach... Oh, Humans all look the same, haha.

They'd probably kidnap you infront of Joseph just to make him feel guilt and rage, After all, Why not get their prized treasure and make Joseph angry? They'd give you more rules, until Joseph was gone, of course.

And, sadly, Not even you crying would stop them from making you into a vampire infront of your big brother, breaking both of your hearts.

Don't worry you got ice cream later smh.

Ceasars sibling? Mini pancake? Haha, They'd kidnap you as soon as they felt parent like tendencies. No denying them, infact, they'd make sure you saw ceasar get defeated by the ro ck. But don't worry! You have new parents and a brother-! Haha, Poor you.

Part 3 DIO AKA mudad!

Honest to god you'd probably have to be a stand user with a weak or strong stand, or, you were one of his kids he had with a lucky woman who survived and got a naked polaroid of him as a 'wow you lived! Congrats, now go have my kid lmao' gift. Or, Maybe you were a normal kid who was kind to him, even if he,,,, did some questionable murder infront of you. And maybe you were a young

Now, Let's say you were a strong stand user. He'd end up wanting to use a flesh bud until he realized... He never had a kid, that he knows of, and decided to raise you! At first he'd be upset you had a strong stand like your mudad, but realized you could protect yourself from those dreadful joestars! Congrats, You became a Brando! :) How unlucky, Considering this DIO would probably force vampire masks onto you, or even using fleshbuds as a threat. Either way, You'll always be papas baby!

Yoshikage kira.

Like I said in my first post of this, He'd want to have a nice average life. You having a stand wouldn't be a problem, Since he'd probably convince you Josuke and the others are awful and rude.

Josukes sibling? Well, He'd end up telling you he can help your brother with his murder issue if you come with him. You don't exactly have a choice since Killer queen would easily overpower you if you had disagreed. You'd end up being a normal and peaceful child before long, Infact, He'd have to pretend he had adopted you behind his 'wifes' back.

Hayotos friend he never talks about? Congrats, You are now stuck with a crazy and loving father! And a mother, I suppose. And you get your best friend as a brother! You'd never be able to leave, how sad. But, You'd have your new mom and your dad to talk to-! And killer queen cuddle time.

Now, Let's say you were his own kid. Wowzers! You think its normal for your father to bring women hands home, after all, You are pretty young and your father told you most adults do this. Ah. How enjoyable.

Doppio/Diavolo

Oh dear. You poor child.

Either you were related to trish, and he somehow felt like you wouldn't be a problem before they felt more of a father love towards you, Most likely somehow getting rif of the traitors and your big sister.

"Where's big sister?"

"Don't worry about her, She's spending time with your mother."

Smh quit LIEING you jERK!

But seriously, Doppio would be like the fun mom asking you if you'd like bake cupcakes in his spare time! Read you bed time stories and whatnot! Diavolo would be awkward and "wanna play baseball or whatever kids like to do these days?" Awkward dad alert.

"My kid is fine!"

The kid they kidnapped/raised:

Casually trying to beat another kid with a baseball.❤💚💛

Honestly they'd insult everyone elses kids while here their kid is, casually scared of baseball.

Pucci

Papa priest! We all know he'd adopt you! I head canon him as gay, considering DIO and him were totally a thing.

So, He'd probably have you study Lord DIO bibles, and casually have you hate Jolyne. Probably even give you a stand, And even show you that DIO is the best! Worship! Protect yourself and all that!

Jotaro would probably scare you, so I can see you holding onto Pucci while Jotaro appears anytime, so pucci would infact love it when you snuggle onto him lime a cute kitten. Hell, you even Sneeze like a kitten!

Honestly You'd be kept under watch 24/7, but you'd think it was normal, after all, Your father would mever do something so awful like Those Joestars claim...right?

Diego

Oh wow- dino dad :)

Let's say you were a big fan of his, Then, Well,You wouldn't mind having him as a dad, Now would you? He is your idol, Right? Yeah. Yeah!

He'd probably carry you around upside down, Hot pants just questioning his sanity as he drops you a million times. Hot pants would probably end up carrying you most of the time.

Mama hot pants and father Diego. Y es.

And, Let's say you were traveling with Johnny. Congrats. You've put yourself in a even worse situation considering Diego would become worried and paranoid over those two idiots hurting you! And he hates the idea of his baby boy/girl/child being hurt by barbarians!!!

Even though he'd probably hurt you on accident if I'm gonna be honest.

Kidnapping isn't a very easy job, so of course he had to knock you out! What was he supposed to do?! Ask you to come stay with him forever?! No! Maybe! HuawhuKaia-

Honestly not too many rules, just don't leave his side ever! Except when going to the bathroom. You'll be tied to his horse. No whining >:(.

Funny Valentine

Honestly what did you think he was going to do? Pick some random child? No no, He'd choose the PERFECT child! You were so lucky! Wow! The daughter of the mos powerful man ever! Lucky you, Right?

No. You don't get alone time unless it's you sleeping or bathing. You wear what he wants, and no.

Dating not allowed. Bad. No no no no no.

"No. No dating. Your lips will fall off."

"but mommys lips didn't-"

"Your face will melt off."

Basically you'd be bossed around and treated like royalty, as long as you listen to you dad!

Honestly I don't know if this is headcanons, if if it isn't feel free to scream at me in the comments-

AND I AM SO SORRY ABOUT NOT BEING ABLE TO ACTUALLY ANSWER, SO I HOPE YOU SEE THIS AND ARE ABLE TO ENJOY IT??? I GUESS???

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evarcana · 3 years

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Get Your Act Together

Ev changes her plans for the evening and goes to the theatre.

words: ~3,2k

warnings: mentions strangling but it is not what you think it is.

notes: I don’t want to commit to calling it Chapter II but this fic takes place not long after these events, and really is just silly.

“No, seriously, at first I thought it was just people talking but the idiot really never parts with his wine glass,” says Ev and reclines in the chair, exhausted by her own dramatic tone. She throws her head backwards, the dark hair, colour of burned bronze, falling down in soft glistering waves followed by the drapes of her silk jacket, and drags both hands across the face with a sigh, trying to wipe away the apparent annoyance, but the creases between her brows are too stubborn and she decides to hide it instead, burying her face under the shadows of her palms. “Ignorant alcoholic,” she hisses through her fingers.

Ev is sitting in the sun outside of the wine merchant at the narrow cobbled street conveniently tucked away between the hustle and bustle of the Main Square and the glamour of the Heart District. Back in the Prakran capital the street so central would be full of people running errands and the neighbours talking in front of the doors despite the afternoon heat and humidity but here the only signs of life at four o'clock are languid piano exercises played somewhere behind the closed shatters and the faint but energetic drumbeat of the carriage passing in the distance.

“So what happened?” A young woman with eyes which are lighter than the sky sets a jug of rosemary lemonade and a glass on Ev’s table and looks down at her, pressing the tray against the black apron decorated with the embroidered grapevines.

Ev lifts her hands an inch and peeks at the woman from the shadows, her eyes narrowed and gleaming with anger. “He kicked me out,” she states flatly.

“Why?”, the woman in black apron asks somewhat wearly and turns to the shop’s entrance where a small jar of paint and a brush are waiting on the tea towel covering the stone step below the door. The paint on the brush is the same deep burgundy as the woman’s shirt.

Ev considers meeting Anais to be her only luck in Vesuvia. Not only does she run the excellent wine shop which also functions as a small bar but she is living in the flat above it and seems to be permanently bored and ready to entertain Ev with some gossip and tips about the city, which makes her a perfect neighbour for somebody who has just moved to the new place completely alone.

Ev’s nose wrinkles at the sharp smell of paint as she watches Anais dipping her brush in the jar. “I made one of those little dolls which they use for cursing people up North and brought it to the palace,” she says. It had a little braid made from silk and wool threads and Ev painted its face with the thinnest makeup brush she could find in her vanity table. Ev smiles to herself thinking that it was the most crafty thing she has done since she was thirteen but notices Anais staring at her with the expression of the person questioning somebody’s sanity, and quickly raises her hands defensively, palms up. “Listen, I am not proud of that.”

Anais rolls her eyes good-humouredly and for a few minutes they both watch the brush moving rhythmically tracing precise lines on the wooden door frame in silence, before Anais turns to Ev again. “Didn’t it happen on Tuesday too?”

“Kicking out?”, Ev responds without lifting her eyes from the jug of lemonade, “it did”. She is busy poking slices of orange with a rosemary stem.

Anais watches Ev’s face, clearly expecting her to continue. But she does not. The silence between them is interrupted only by clicking of the ice cubes against the glass. Anais tilts her head to the side and says in a careful tone, “But you seem to be more angry today.”

Ev stabs the slice of blood orange she fished out to the liquid’s surface and it splatters the sour juice and bitter oils which make her eyes stink. She blinks a few times and gives the orrange a disapproving frown. “He called the guards,” she says. Her juvenile prank got out of hand. She definitely is not proud.

“What?” Anais’s voice raises in surprise and her paintbrush makes an uneven stroke which she rushes to cover.

“Yeah, I know.”

“But I don’t understand. Aren’t you a diplomat? They can’t really - “, she pauses thinking of the right word, “- stop you, can they?”

“No, but I can’t necessarily stop him neither”

Anais goes quiet, weighing Ev’s words in her head, while she paints. “So why do you keep on... talking to him?”, she asks finally and waves her brush in the air, “you don’t have to.”

Ev gives her a pointed look and then drops her eyes down, frowning once again. That is a very good question. Why does she keep on talking to him?

For the last few weeks Ev has stuck to the same routine: she comes to the palace daily, enquires a servant politely about the consul’s schedule for the day, finds Valerius, tosses a pile of paper in front of him, takes a seat opposite him and proceeds to picturing herself strangling him. Bare hands. The skin on his neck gets hot and damp with sweat underneath her fingers, his body is struggling against hers while she presses her knee against his chest holding him in place. She squeezes, and squeezes. Sometimes however she would get lost in her own imagination and her hands would slide up, fingers getting buried in the hair, her thumbs tracing delicate lines behind his earlobes. She doesn't know what happens after that, because she guillotines the thought. Those are moments of weakness and are luckily rare. It would be easier if he was ugly, and stupid. But he is pretty much the opposite. Yet another proof that she had no good luck in Vesuvia. After the weakness comes the inevitable irritation, which Valerius seems to sense like a sniffer dog, and before she knows they are engaged in one of their already signature yelling competitions which the servants undoubtedly gossip about in the corridors and kitchens. Ev would be surprised if the whole Vesuvia is not calling her a madwoman by now. Her only hope being that they think even worse things of their consul.

Hating someone is exhausting. Every interaction makes Ev’s blood boil, and her heart beat heavy and bright. Her mind does strange things and she honestly does not remember the last time she thought about something other than making Valerius do what she wants for longer than an hour. She wastes precious minutes of her life on someone who genuinely despises her.

She wishes he did not despise her though. She wishes that there was more to him than being prickish, judgemental asshole, then perhaps this whole thing could be just about bearable. That is why she keeps on talking to him. But Ev cannot tell Anais that because it is the same as admitting that she has lost and that he has won, so she huffs irritably and says “Because it is my job, why else” instead.

“Good to know that you are both as stubborn as mules.” Anais grew up at her parents’ vineyard in the rural part of Venterre and except the times when she talks about wine all her comparisons are based on farm animals and other attributes of country life.

Ev folds her arms. “I don’t think you know me well enough to say that.” Despite whatever is happening in her imagination in the moments of weakness, the idea of having something in common with Valerius, not only an asshole but the surliest man alive, makes her feel irrationally violent.

Anais only hums something to herself. “Anyway, no more of this talk, what are your plans for tonight?” she asks Ev with the trained cheerfulness of a person chatting to customers daily, “You know we are not opening tonight”, she adds, now sounding more concerned than cheerful.

“Because you are going on your adventure date with Theresa and your brother has not come back yet.” Ev waves her hand, “I remember.” She thinks of all the unopened letters on her desk at home and some notes she managed to scoop in her bag from Valerius’s desk in the palace, the risky act which would probably earn her another look from Anais, and adds, “just working”

“Why don’t you go to the theatre? The Goldgrave is doing their first performance since the plague. I think you should still be able to get the ticket at the door.” Anais wipes her forehead with the back of her hand, still holding the brush. “Actually, the guy who runs the show is Theresa’s neighbour, I will have a word with him. I am sure he will let you in for free if you promise to write a review.”

“Why would he want my review?”

“Oh come on! One of the Prakran dignitaries attends their humble performance, that’s like the most international exposure they have ever had!”

“Fine,” Ev says sceptically.

***

The man at the entrance didn’t lie about all the tickets being sold out, the small theatre is full and buzzes with anticipation. Ev had to endure a small torture of exchanging pleasantries with the overexcited theatre director and at least a dozen of guests, who all seems to know Anais and each other, after she introduced herself. But it all paid off and she is now sitting in the three-seat box closest to the stage, probably the most expensive seats in the whole of the theatre.

Ev eyes an empty seat to the far left. The seat next to her is taken by the old lady wearing simple but tasteful clothes and wrapped in the wooly shawl. She smells of the lily-of-the-valley perfume and apple pie. “Excuse me, are you expecting someone? I think the lights are about to go down”, Ev asks, giving the old lady a soft smile.

“Oh no, darling, I am here to watch my husband perform on stage.” She sounds proud. Ev tries to recall the last time somebody called her darling.

“That is really sweet, he must be thrilled to have you here,” she says, and the kindness in her voice is genuine. Ev finds her new neighbour positively charming, in a way only the older generation can be.

“And what is such a lovely young lady doing in the theatre alone?”

Ev shrugs her shoulders playfully. “I am here to keep you company. You have to tell me when your husband comes on stage,” Ev says, returning the smile.

The old lady covers her mouth and her laugh sounds youthful and bright. She is delighted at their little exchange.

That’s it, most people do like me.

The lights dim and just before the performance is about to begin, the curtain behind Ev’s seat moves letting the beam of light in the box and a dark figure walks in. A man, Ev thinks, who appears to be nicely proportioned. She watches temper and agitation in his movement, as he takes his seat silently. Ev thinks about her peculiar company for tonight, as the boxes are usually reserved by the group of guests. Is he here to watch his loved one too? Could he be from the newspaper?

The old lady nudges Ev’s elbow excitedly.

***

Ev has seen this play before. It is a story of the marriage proposal, full of humorous fights between the groom-to-be and his bride. The sweet old lady’s husband plays the father. He is a tall man with fluffy moustache (although those might be fake, you never know in the theatre) and genuine comedic talent. She wonders whether there is an apple pie waiting for him at home. Even through the dark Ev can see the lady looking lovingly at her husband.

Something makes Ev feel strangely out of place here. She bites the tip of her thumb lightly and replays the events of the day, remembering the old lady’s question from before and Anais asking about her plans. Her mind continues wondering and Ev catches herself thinking about what Valerius is doing tonight. The thought makes her stomach twist. Crying himself to sleep, hopefully.

She leans forwards to take a discreet look to her left, hoping to get a better view of the stranger’s face. He is hidden by shadows but the outline of his profile certainly makes her want to see more - high cheekbones, slightly convex nose and angular jaw, query full lips. He looks familiar.

Ev is now leaning so far forward her elbows are pressed on her knees, squinting and trying to recall where she might have seen this profile. She hears the old lady clearing her throat politely, and retreats, reminded of the theatre etiquette. Maybe it is nothing and he is just her type. She has been so busy recently, making plans only to watch them being discarded, thorn to shreds and thrown away, and so consumed by her anger, she did not really pay attention to the other people around. This feels nice and refreshing.

The curtain closes and the audience stands up to applaud. Ev shoots another look at the stranger. Beautiful posture, gloved hands, oh, mysterious. Maybe it would be nice to have plans with somebody like him. Before she can build up excitement about the lights coming up, the mysterious stranger turns around abruptly and disappears behind the curtain. All Ev sees is the flash of white light before her eyes, as empty and boring as her cold sheets back at home. She gets off her seat and runs after him. Maybe she is a madwoman after all. She does not have any plan, frankly, she doesn't even know why she is doing this, so she decides to go for the most obvious thing - she reaches the man’s shoulder from behind and places her hand as softly as she can considering her rush. “Ah excuse me -”, she says slightly breathy, “have we met before?”

The man turns and the disappointment that Ev experiences the very second she sees his face can only be compared to one of a child who unwraps the present only to find out that it is the older sibling’s jumper, in the child’s least favourite colour, the very same jumper the sibling was wearing the day they broke the child’s toy, most definitely on purpose. Ev is sure that she has seen other men in this city but apparently she is that unlucky.

“You,” says Valerius, baring his teeth. His eyes are slits of hatred, like he is contemplating ripping the skin off her. Ev can relate. She wants to punch him in the face. Ev clenches her jaw thinking about all the insults that he is about to throw her way.

“Consul,” she says in her best theatrical tone.

Valerius glances over his shoulder immediately, eyes wide. He does not respond, frantically scoping the corridor, which is starting to fill in with guests. Ev watches his expression and to her surprise there is no usual arrogance in it. This is unlike him. The moment draws her attention to what the consul is wearing - dark navy fitted coat, with discreet design, his long hair tucked in its high collar, cravat, high boots, gloved hands. Very unlike him. Ev studies him more carefully. There is no wine glass. This is getting disturbing.

“Are you incognito or something?”, she asks, snorting with amusement.

“None of your business”, Valerius spits. He reddens a little straight away and throws more nervous glances to his surroundings.

Oh. Tension. This is awkward, and juicy. Ev’s curiosity is officially piqued. The sight of Valerius’s discomfort is revitalising. She can feel blood pumping through her body and there is sparkle in her eyes. She smirks at him, even though he studiously avoids her gaze. Sensing the tiny hint of vulnerability just at the edges of his expression, she locks her arms around his and with the push of her hip turns them both away from the building crowd of chatting guests. “So you are incognito.” Ev really can't hide her excitement.

Both his eyebrows ratchet up, and Valerius opens his mouth as his eyes go wild, but he does not seem to be able to say a word. This is wonderful. A sensation of pure elation floods Ev. She has been dreaming about this day. She presses her body closer to Valerius and sinks her nails into his arm, like a cat toying with prey. She is thinking about this new power she has got.

Valerius looks down at Ev. “Your face looks… filthy”, he says and tries to shake her off. “Let me go. Now”

“No way. You can try screaming for help if you want.” This is the first time Ev has got the upper hand, and however little, she is not letting this opportunity slip.

“You are insane.” Valerius pulls his arm closer to his body, protectively.

Ev ignores him, right now she is busy thinking. “I know!”

“That you are insane?”

“You are stingy,” Ev says with the look of triumph in her eyes.

“What?!”

“Look, there is only one explanation. You came to the theatre once, they asked you for donations because everybody knows you are filthy rich but you refused, again and again, and now you are hiding. ”

“It is not the case.” Valerius makes another attempt to shake her off, but the sight of the theatre director walking their way through the crowd makes him stop. He turns away.

“So explain yourself then, dear consul”, Ev whispers in his ear, her voice full of venom. The group of guests walks right past them without giving them any attention. They must look like a couple, Ev realises, and eases her grip on his arm.

“No,” Valerius says sternly.

Ev stares at him for a moment, considering her options. “Fine, but you owe me”, she says simply.

“I owe you nothing”, he barks back.

“You know I am going to make a scene, maybe even mention you in the review which I kindly agreed to write for the local newspaper”

Valerius’s mouth twitches once and Ev can almost hear him gritting his teeth. At least, the man knows how the gossip works. “What do you want? How much?” The look he gives Ev is both smug and irritated.

“You are not the only one with the money here”, she makes her voice sound bored. It’s not the first Ev’s negotiation.

“I won’t ask you again, witch.” His voice is rough with anger but he bites it quicker than she expected.

“We can discuss tomorrow. I promise, it is just a small favour.”

Valerius does not say anything. He rubs the bridge of his nose and turns towards the exit, forgetting that Ev is still hanging on his arm.

“So, you like theatre?” she asks curiously as they leave together.

#the arcana #the arcana fic #evpanopolis #consul valerius #Ev x Valerius #the arcana fanfic #the arcana oc #Valerius x mc

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heloflor · 3 years

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Rogue arc : A few random thoughts regarding the characters and their actions (+ other stuff)

Part 1 (an analysis of “Abducting Murphy’s Law”; you don’t need to read it to understand this post)

So, as I said in the first half, I’m going here to talk about some more stuff regarding and around the rogue arc like the apology and Dakota having issues. This post is way less organized than the previous one and is much more of a personal opinion/rant rather than an analysis. So be aware that this post is a subjective point of view that has some negative criticism at some parts. Basically, this is just me infodumping for the sake of infodumping. Though, I tried to organize it a bit with titles because I still want to do something that people want to and can read.

Like last time, here’s the tl;dr :

- While Cavendish is at fault for the argument in “Abducting Murphy’s Law”, the whole situation showed that Dakota has dependance issues due to trauma and needs to learn to back off, for his own sanity as much as for his relationship with Cav.

- The kids didn’t question why Cav was alone in a ship and waited days before nonchalantly telling Dakota about it and it pisses me off to no end.

- Compared to Doof and Perry, the reconciliation had no build up and wasn’t satisfying in the slightest.

- Neither Dakota nor Cavendish seem to have learned a thing during the arc. Also, there was a missed opportunity to see Dakota consider Doof differently because of his future status as Professor Time. Also, imagine Doof calling out Dakota on being too clingy.

(long post ahead)

1. Dakota needs to work on himself

So to start up, regarding the whole “who has to apologize to who” debate : personally, I believe that, when it comes to the events of the episode “Abducting Murphy’s Law”, Cavendish is the one to blame. He’s the one who got obsessed with finding the ship and who refused to listen to Dakota, even when Dakota wanted them to just sit down and talk things out. He’s also the one who decided to go rogue and ghost Dakota, letting the guy probably terrified for Cavendish’s safety. So in that regard, Cavendish is the one who needs to apologize.

BUT !!! On a much larger scale, the entire arc showed us that Dakota clearly has some issues. To be honest, when I started to get more into the show and started re-watching some episodes, I literally went to google “co-dependance” to see if Dakota fitted the characteristics. And while he doesn’t, there still clearly is some dependance here. And, if we end up having a new season, I genuinely wish that they could point out Dakota’s issues, though I guess the executives might consider it to be too “mature” to happen on the show. But yeah, Dakota has issues, and that’s the first point I’d like to talk about.

Given what we know in “The Island of Lost Dakotas” and that mention about a “Mississippi purchase”, whatever that is, it’s safe to assume that Dakota had been traumatized. Purchase aside, he had to witness his partner die over and over again, probably around a thousand times. And between the fall into lava with the skeleton visible, the “milk to death” (I have no idea what it means and I don’t think I want to) and whatever led to Cannibal Dakota’s existence, some of those deaths definitely seem very gruesome.

Dakota saw some shit, and there’s no way he can simply shrug it off. We clearly see how he’s still impacted by it in season 2 with how protective he is of Cavendish now that he can’t go back. This actually reminds me of how I recently decided to re-watch the small scene with Dakota and Doof in “Cast Party”, the scene when they’re at the ice-cream place. And one thing I can’t help but over-analyze is Dakota asking “Do things happen for a reason or is it just chaos ?”. When he says that, I can’t help thinking that he’s referring to Cavendish’s deaths. It’s like he was asking “Is Cavendish meant to die or is the world just fucking with me ?”.

So yeah, when Cavendish suddenly disappear, with Dakota having no idea of where he went or why, it’s no wonder that he would be so set on trying to find him. For all he knows, Cavendish is already dead. And if he’s still alive, there’s tons of things that could go wrong, and if they do, Dakota is powerless to stop it. This is probably a terrifying situation to be in.

But at the same time, Cavendish is an adult and is now aware of his deaths, so he might try to be careful. I mean, in “Lady Krillers”, when he sees the alien, he’s very quick to let Dakota protect him.

And that’s where most of the problem comes from. Dakota doesn’t seem to fully trust Cavendish to keep himself alive, which is probably not helped by the fact that, given how Dakota is constantly saving him, Cavendish probably doesn’t know his own limits and might overestimate himself.

But I think the biggest problem with this whole situation, aside from the fact that Dakota needs to lay off and understand that Cavendish is a responsible adult who needs to learn what are his limits so he can take care of himself, is the fact that the show is constantly validating Dakota. Just look at what happens in the rogue arc. When we see Cavendish alone, he constantly gets hurt by everything. And near the end of the arc, he even gets trapped inside an ice cube, left to die if nobody finds him. Thing is, by showing Cavendish suffer so much and basically die from being alone, the show is basically telling us that Dakota is right to be so worried about Cavendish, because Cavendish can’t survive alone.

Though, honestly, the show has a tendency to “demonize” Cavendish when he and Dakota are arguing. I mean, in “A Christmas Peril”, both are at fault. Cavendish for being insensitive and putting Dakota down from not understanding why Dakota feels underappreciated, and Dakota for not explaining why he feels that way (refereeing to the island) which leads him to get more and more frustrated with Cav. But, while both apologize in the end, in a kids’ point of view, Cavendish is the asshole who pushed Dakota away by showing no respect. It also doesn’t help that, up until “Time Out” in which we start to see more of his personality, Cav was kind of a giant ass during the beginning of the show; while on the other hand, Dakota is one of the most liked characters of the show.

And in the rogue arc, it’s the same problem. Cavendish is never once shown to have any regrets about his actions, he’s never seen struggling with living alone or being in the forest. And meanwhile, Dakota spends all his time sulking and looking like a kicked puppy. It’s because of stuff like that that the fandom is so split on the “who’s at fault” question and why we tend to sympathize so much with Dakota.

So to put it short, what I’m saying here is that Dakota has dependance issues due to trauma that needs to be addressed and worked on so that he can stop being worried for Cavendish 24/7, because not only is it unhealthy for their relationship, it’s also very damaging for Dakota. Seriously, just look at how much of a desperate emotional mess he is in “Escape”.

2. The kids anger me

Now, since I already mentioned it briefly, I’d like to talk with how the characters were handled in the arc, in particular in “Cavendish Unleashed”. Thing is, I already wrote a post ranting about the stuff I dislike in season 2; and in this post, I made a part about this episode. So instead of copy-pasting it, here’s a brief summary of what I say in this post :

- Basically, the ending of “Cavendish Unleashed” angers me everytime I see it because the kids just go away without asking any questions, nevermind the fact that that Cavendish has been missing for days and that Dakota is desperate to find him. And the worst is that, not only do they not ask Cavendish about Dakota looking for him, but they also don’t tell Dakota that they saw Cavendish. They just wait for like a week or two before being like “Oh by the way, we found an UFO the other day and Cav was there” (seriously, there are SO nonchalant when they tell him Cav was in the ship with them). And it’s not like they didn’t know Cavendish was missing ! In escape, the way Dakota tells them that he has to find an UFO makes it seem like they knew for a while.

- Another thing is that, as I said earlier, we never see Cavendish feel bad about his actions, and that dialogue with the kids would have been the perfect opportunity for such a moment.

- Finally, there’s the fact that, in the last episode of season 2, Cavendish starts talking about being the hero of Octalia, making it seem like he didn’t learn a thing from the experience, despite having all the time of the world for it when he was stuck into the ice.

So yeah, that’s pretty much the stuff I ranted about. One last thing that I could add regarding the arc not being handled well is how stupid Dakota was on the whole “finding Cavendish” situation. I mean, hasn’t he tried looking into the forest ? Seriously, the ship is like a mile away from the town. If the kids going near it on bike and Cavendish leading people to it is any indication, this isn’t that much of a walk. So why didn’t Dakota try to look for him here ? Honestly the only explanation I found (and put in a fic) is the idea of Dakota thinking that Cav could never survive alone in the forest, so he’s terrified of what he would find if he were to look for him there. But other than that, unless the ship is really well hidden (it’s not), I don’t really see why Dakota didn’t find it earlier. Or is it because he was too busy stress-eating and hanging out with Doof to go there ?

And speaking of Doof, why didn’t he try using an inator to find Cavendish ? I mean, it worked for Milo in “Abducting Murphy’s Law”, and in “Escape”, we learn that Cavendish’ DNA can be found in his and Dakota’s apartment. So why not making an inator to find him ? Why waiting around for like a month before finally resolving to science ?

3. The reconciliation

Thirdly, I’d like to talk in this post about the reconciliation between Cavendish and Dakota and how fast-pasted it was, especially in comparison to Doof and Perry (this part is actually the main reason why this post exists to begin with). For this part, I’m going to talk about each part of the argument and reconciliation and compare both stories.

First off, the argument to begin with. In Doof’s case, he’s the one who got hurt by Perry and decided to “break up”. Perry messed up, understood that he messed up, and Doof needed time to accept Perry again. So both parties knew who did what and understood that Doof was angry and needed time. Also, we follow Doof, the one who was hurt but who also called the relationship off.

But in Cavendish and Dakota’s case, Cavendish is the one who messed up but also the one who called the relationship off. And unlike Doof and Perry, Dakota has no idea of what happened since Cav erased his memory to prevent Dakota from following him. From one second to the next, Dakota found himself alone, having no idea where Cavendish was, no idea why Cavendish left, no idea what he did to push Cavendish away and with his last memory of Cavendish being the argument in the armory (from what we see in “Managing Murphy’s Law”, the memory eraser only makes you forget the last 10-15 minutes or so at what I guess is the first use in one day). And honestly, thinking back at the reconciliation, it seems to be what angered Dakota the most. It’s not that Cavendish left, it’s that Cavendish ghosted him after making him forget the reason why. So from the get-go, Dakota is in a worse situation than Doof, meaning that his situation could require some more work. And do we get that work ? Nope !

Secondly, the regrets from the “guilty party”. For Perry, you have the card that he sends a few episodes later. This shows that he feels truly bad for what he did and is willing to make things right if Doof wants to. But when the card is sent, Doof still needs time to himself. As for Cavendish, like I said earlier, he doesn’t once show any regret for ghosting Dakota. Worse, when he finally reunites with him, he doesn’t bring up the issue, though it is a delicate situation with Milo being kidnapped and, like I said in my first post, it does seem like Cavendish intended to come back at some point. Still, that last part is something that Dakota didn’t know. And speaking of Dakota, he spends the entire time being miserable, which only makes Cavendish look worse with how he doesn’t question himself once. And speaking of which…

Thirdly, there’s how the “got hurt” party handles their emotion, aka how they feel throughout the whole arc. For Doof, he starts off very bitter and salty at Perry. But as the episodes progress and as he starts to hang out with Dakota, he kinds of forget about Perry. It’s like he’s busying himself by trying to help Dakota, making him get over it pretty easily by not thinking much about it. And by the end of the arc, he seems to have gotten over it. He wasn’t really bitter about it anymore and all that was left was the talk with Perry to set things right.

But with Dakota, he only gets worse as time goes by. Though, looking at “Cast Party” and “First Impressions”, he seems pretty fine. But then you look at “Look at This Ship” and “Escaped” and you’ll notice that he went from having no patience and being pretty sad in the first episode to being an absolute mess in the second. Again, Dakota depends on Cavendish and needs to be assured that the guy is doing fine, so the whole situation makes him unable to function properly. So while Doof progressively gets better by getting his mind on something else, Dakota can’t stop thinking about Cav and only gets progressively worse.

And finally, there’s the reconciliation, the culmination of all this time spent sulking and hanging out. Again, for Doof and Perry, the resolution is done well. We’ve seen Perry feel bad for what he did, we’ve seen Doof get a hold of his emotions over time. And when Doof confronts Perry, we see that both of them are genuinely regretful of what happened. And then there’s the paycheck. Doof’s argument against Perry was that Perry only cares for him because it’s his job to do so. So by showing the paycheck, Perry answer to what Doof was bothered by. He showed Doof that no, it’s not about the money, and that he genuinely cares about the guy for who he is and wants to help him doing good, another thing that Doof was bothered with regarding Perry not being there to support him for it.

This works. You have a good setting to begin with, you have time given to the dialogue and the reconciliation, and the reconciliation is given with Perry reassuring Doof on the exact points the guy was worried about. It’s good stuff ! It’s great ! It’s well-written and developed !

And then there’s Cavendish and Dakota. Not only do they have very little time to make up, they also don’t really talk about what happened. Dakota is angry about being ghosted, Cavendish tries to justify himself by saying that he was trying to protect Dakota (he wasn’t but it’s easier for his conscience to tell himself he did) and then Dakota looks sad and Cavendish apologizes. Seriously, that’s all there is to it. Dakota makes a sad face and it makes Cavendish feel bad so he apologizes. And Dakota just accepts the small apology, as if he didn’t spend the last few hours having a breakdown over Cavendish being gone. Though, I tend to see him accept the apology fast because of the relief of the moment.

But still, when Cavendish says “Can we talk about this later ?”, I sure hope they do ! Because that half-assed moment is nowhere near enough to break down all the things these two need to talk about. And besides, such a short apology could have worked, but only if the apology was brought up in a good way like it did with Doof and Perry. But again, it didn’t. It was brought up with Cavendish never thinking about Dakota and Dakota only getting more and more sad as time went by. So it doesn’t work.

And even the hug at the end doesn’t work. Yeah it’s cute but these two have hugged several times in the past and these other hugs are much cuter and more significant. I mean, toddler Dakota hugging Cavendish, showing that part of him still remember the guy ? Adorable. Two Dakotas on the island hugging Cavendish for the first time in possibly years while all the other Dakotas are trying to talk at the same time in the hopes of getting to be heard by Cavendish, with also one singing and one having a tattoo of Cav’s hat ? The cutest and most heartbreaking thing in the show. Dakota stuffing the memory eraser thing and Cavendish hugging him in joy to congratulate him ? An extremely underrated moment. So yeah, in my opinion, these hugs give more emotions than the one in “Milo in Space”, because the heart is much more there.

So to conclude on this, Dakota and Cavendish’s reconciliation is pretty bad because it sets up for a big resolution but only takes a few seconds to happen. And, related to the wish to have the show talk about Dakota’s issues, if we get a season 3, I wish they’d at least mention that these two need to talk about the whole thing.

4. Things I wished they had added in this arc

Finally, I’d like to mention a few things that, in my opinion, could have been great to see in the arc. This part is entirely personal opinions (though most of this post is tbh).

First off, obviously, you have the stuff I mentioned before, aka addressing Dakota being dependent, a longer reconciliation or, as Cavendish says, the promise of a talk later, and the kids not being idiots who didn’t ask a single question at the end of “Cavendish Unleashed” and never told Dakota. And regarding the kids, I actually don’t mind them not telling Dakota, but at least give an explanation as to why they didn’t instead of being like “oh yeah we forgot to tell you this” ! Like, maybe Cav asked them to remain silent or something.

Secondly, I wish Cavendish had learned a few things from the experience. As I said, in the last episode, the way he talks make it seem like he didn’t learn shit. And it’s annoying. Why didn’t he learn that running for fame like that was a terrible idea ? Or that it was better to work with others than alone ? Or that, instead of running after a fortune that he may never have, he could remember that there are people already in his life who like him for who he is instead of what his heroic actions are, who care for him and would give anything to be with him ? Also, we definitely needed moments in which he struggled to live outside and alone, and moments in which he was doubting and missing what he left.

And, about characters learning stuff, it would also be interesting to have Dakota realize and accept that Cavendish managed to survive alone in the forest for like a month. In other words, Dakota could use what happened as a “base” to try convincing himself to back off, like if he gets too worried, he could try remembering that Cavendish survived this to calm himself down.

Thirdly, I wished the interactions with Dakota and Doof were more than just eating and talking about Cavendish there and there. I mean, Doof is Professor Time, someone Dakota idolizes, even if not as much as Cavendish does. So why didn’t they talk about this at some point ? And tbh, I also would’ve liked maybe a dialogue or two between Doof and Cavendish regarding Professor Time (though this doesn’t have to do with the rogue arc). Also, I said it earlier, but why didn’t Doof helped with an inator before the clone one ? Couldn’t they give an explanation for that ? And even something such as “when I make any inators OWCA sends Perry and I don’t want to see him” could have been enough of an explanation.

One last thing that I would have wished to see with Doof is him trying to call Dakota out for being such a mess because one guy he cares for wants some space. I actually wanted to write a oneshot about Doof seeing Dakota feeling moody while at his “apartment” and Doof using his own experience as a husband to tell Dakota to get his shit together and give the man his space or else his relationship would fall very quickly.

And yes I know Cavendish and Dakota aren’t married in the show and Doof doesn’t have much friends. But Doof is a guy that values good communication, as we see with how he rambles all the time, how he listens to Vanessa’s advices and is there when she needs an ear (in “Minor Monogram” she very quickly opens up to him at the beginning of the episode; and in general, she isn’t afraid to speak her mind to him and he listens) and, as far as we know, he and Charlene never had their divorce because of communication issues. Also he’s learning to speak platypus, most likely so that Perry can communicate with him better.

So yeah, if anybody could give Dakota a pep talk about why Cavendish might need space and how the two need to talk things out, it’s Doof. Hell, Doof is the one who’s mad at Perry and needs time and space away from him, so he understands what needing space is.

And about this oneshot, for those interested : I changed the idea and it’s going to be a talk between Dakota and Cavendish instead.

So here’s the end of these two parts about the rogue arc ! These posts were way much longer than I anticipated but hey, a rambling is a rambling. And yeah, these posts are just me needing to infodump on random stuff nobody cares about. But given how nobody I know irl cares about children cartoons or have a good enough level in English to understand my stuff, I need to infodump somehow. So you’re the ones who have to bear with me ! 😉

Thanks for reading !

#Milo Murphy's Law #mml #mml spoilers #season 2 spoilers #rogue arc #Balthazar Cavendish #Vinnie Dakota #Flor talks #again #wish I could make a video #oh well #long post #VERY LONG POST

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gfpt-comic · 3 years

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So. Here goes nothing... (1/?)

(Major spoilers for the comic, but since it won’t update anymore (besides PERHAPS some random comic strips/excerpts without context every now and then, but don’t count on it), I guess it doesn’t matter.)

If you read my answer to the ask posted earlier, you probably know what this post is about. I’ll make a list of every important point I wanted to tackle in the comic, in multiple sections. Be prepared for the long post that awaits you below the cut.

Summary of what was left of Chapter 2

Following their first appearance at the beginning of the chapter, Lolph and Dundgren try to question Blendin, who is staying at a hospital and is still under intense care. They discuss what exactly happened to Blendin in the first place: he was assigned what was supposed to be a routine mission to solve a minor time anomaly in the 21st century, but his time machine exploded when he tried to operate it and he was gravely injured. Dundgren mentions that any normal time device should hardly cause this much damage when malfunctioning, suggesting that Blendin’s level of incompetence is so incredibly high, it somehow managed to make something that shouldn’t be able to explode blow up in his face. On the other hand, Lolph starts to wonder if, exactly because it should be impossible, the accident may have had a reason other than just Blendin’s incompetence. Unfortunately, the accident had consequences so grave on Blendin’s physical health, it seemingly also took a toll on his sanity and questioning him only leaves them with esoteric sentences of dubious credibility.

Blendin: “This is very nice of you… to visit me. There isn’t much time left. I was starting to feel alone, before everything disappears.” Blendin: “Time Baby will succeed… He will free us from this time.”

July 13, 2012 again: back in the gift shop of the Mystery Shack, Wendy and Soos have captured Bill and tied him up to a chair. Wendy starts interrogating him, asking him who or what he is-- throwing in her multiple guesses: the Shapeshifter she defeated with Dipper in the bunker, a paper clone... She doesn’t suspect demon possession or a switch-because-of-the-carpet scenario, however. Bill just keeps trying to break free with little success, without answering; and soon, Stan interrupts them when he enters the gift shop as well, followed by the dozen of tourists he took during his latest tour. Wendy and Soos manage to evade Stan’s obvious questions by pretending they were making a new attraction.

Back in Mabel’s Dreamscape, Mabel encourages Dipper to have some fun with Bill’s powers, but he is scared of messing up because of just how powerful he is; having seen Bill’s powers both in the Mindscape/Dreamscape and in Weirdmageddon when he witnessed the alternate timelines, Dipper knows just how far those powers can go and he isn’t sure he can control them. Still, after some teasing Mabel starts a snowball fight with the surrounding ice cream, and gradually the twins have more and more fun starting with the ice cream, then with the tricks Dipper starts to use. When they take a break, Mabel points out that nothing bad happened, and Dipper grows a bit more confident that he can use Bill’s powers in a way that isn’t dangerous.

Dipper: “I guess it’s easy to do exactly what you want when it literally happens in your mind... Huh.”

Dipper notices it’s almost noon, and Mabel remembers that she was supposed to meet William at Greasy’s Diner for lunch. Mabel is unseasy upon thinking of talking to him again after what happened the day before, and Dipper confirms by showing William’s current whereabouts through a peephole that William seems about as worried as she is. Mabel takes a deep breath, makes sure that she will be able to see Dipper whenever she needs (during the night for sure, perhaps earlier if she asks for it). Still, just before Dipper wakes her up... She has a favor to ask him.

Mabel: “Now that you can do lots of magic stuff and all... Could you do something for me?”

Back in the gift shop, the tourists have left and Bill was untied due to Stan’s confusion over the situation. However, he is forced to stay inside and is stuck sitting by Wendy’s side behind the cashier desk. When Mabel goes through the gift shop to go to the Diner, everyone notices that she made a new sweater -- one with a pine tree symbol on it, no less. Bill is enraged but can’t stop her from leaving.

William has his first face reveal. He is a blonde 13-year-old, and is already waiting worriedly at Greasy’s Diner when Mabel arrives. He immediately apologizes for what happened on the day before.

William: “About yesterday, I... I’m sorry I said your brother was a bad influence. That was uncalled for.”

Mabel: “Yes. Yes it was.”

William is genuinely apologetic, but soon it is revealed that the reason why he thought Dipper and the Mystery Shack were a bad influence was because he doesn’t believe at all in the supernatural. Even if Mabel told him about her adventures, he assumed they were just stories she made up while playing in the Mystery Shack’s museum and never believed them to be true. Mabel tries to convince him by showing him some episodes of Dipper’s “Guide to the Unexplained” -- a series of videos he used to make and post online at the beginning of their summer break upon arriving in Gravity Falls, but stopped making altogether after Summerween. Sadly, the episodes made up until then did not revolve around exceptionally weird anomalies, and aren’t enough to convince William. The only thing William admits to being strange is the fact that every inhabitant of Gravity Falls is “out of their minds.”

Exasperated by William’s absurdly high levels of skepticism, Mabel eventually dares him to go on a forest expedition with her, Candy and Grenda on the next day, just so they can show him pretty much anything in the forest that is out of the ordinary. William strongly refuses and tries to dissuade her to go into the forest at all; he has been personally forbidden by his mother from going anywhere near the forest, and he has also read on the local news that there is currently a predator of unknown origin or species on the loose, which has been notably attacking sheep from the nearby farm. Mabel teases him about the fact that he believes that this creature is real, and suggests that it might be a werewolf for example; but William doesn’t take her seriously, especially because the creature is supposed to fly.

And... This is the part where my script starts getting wonky. I’ve been trying to fill the holes, but sadly it’s proven to be quite difficult, especially now that I know I won’t be drawing it in comic form anyway. Still, the main plot should be precise enough! The holes are mainly just “there should be some filler and/or foreshadowing to what’s coming here”, with little more than just prompts for what could be happening.

Back in the Mystery Shack’s gift shop, Wendy tries to sneakily question Bill, but when Stan asks them where Mabel went and Bill tells him she skipped her restocking duty so she could spend time with William at the Diner, Stan asks him to get her back. Bill happily takes this opportunity to slip out of the Mystery Shack, and have an excuse to bother Mabel at the same time.

Eventually, William is obligated to accept Mabel’s terms and intends on coming so he can at least make sure that the girls won’t put themselves in danger upon visiting the forest on their own.

Bill arrives at the Diner. William, thinking he is meeting Dipper again, tries to make amends for the things he said the previous day and says that he earnestly thinks they can start again on the right foot; Bill sadistically mocks him instead, all the while pretending to be Dipper, just so he can ruin Mabel’s hopes of reconciling William and Dipper. Bill finishes Mabel by forcing her to leave, saying that Stan expects her to work at the gift shop like she was supposed to since the beginning.

Mabel gone, William and Bill start to have a tense conversation; well, tense on William’s part, while Bill is mostly just having a blast driving William mad. The old fanfic that was the first “draft” version of the story has this chapter, which gathers most of the jokes I intended to keep, and at least some of the plot points. I’ll put a warning for awkward English, though. Oh and also, apparently in the old version it was July 3rd and not July 13th, so in the comic the “tomorrow is July 4th so the forest trip can’t happen anyway” excuse wouldn’t work.

About the Quetzalcoatlus thing: here, have some fun dinosaur size comparisons & history following my latest research on what the pterodactyl from S1E18: Land Before Swine.

William: “And how would you even know all that?”

Bill: “Because I ate Leonardo da Vinci.”

William: “. . .”

William: “… It must have been some VERY cryptic way for you to say that it was one of those conspiracy things mentioned in the old book supposedly written by a genius that you keep reading passionately every day. Right?”

Bill: “Oh, so your brain CAN work sometimes!”

Bill gets bit by a soothquito. His bite marks spell “FHOASE CORECULLY“

Upon leaving the Diner, they both see someone being kidnapped by a member of the Blindeye Society. William insists they immediately go warn the police, but Blubs and Durland prove to be ineffective as ever. Bill slips in one or two facts about the secret society, but William dismisses them completely as other random insane things Bill just happens to say all the time for trolling purposes.

Mabel is back in the Mystery Shack and starts her restocking duty, but her mind is clearly elsewhere. She starts mumbling to herself, but is interrupted by the decapitated head of Larry King who just happened to be in the vents nearby. Mabel isn’t surprised at all to see he survived, and when Larry King starts "interviewing” her about the issues she was mumbling about, she complies. Some time later, while Soos is cleaning up the floor, he overhears Mabel complaining about Bill being a jerk on purpose and making Dipper seem like a terrible person, and ends up hearing pretty much the whole story that way, without Mabel knowing. Soos proceeds to tell Wendy what he heard, helping them putting two and two together-- all the while understanding why Mabel didn’t warn them, and why they should stay silent as well. They decide not to tell Mabel they know her secret; but when Bill comes back later, just as Wendy’s shift was about to end, she has just one thing to tell him:

Wendy: “Tomorrow 6PM. My place.”

Night time; Bill is annoyed, but not very surprised by the fact that Soos is sleeping with him for the night, in the room on the ground floor where Dipper had relocated. Bill is at least glad he no longer has to pretend to be Dipper around Wendy and him.

Soos proceeds to ask Bill what his intentions were; not just in the present times now that the switch occurred, but also before it.

Soos: “So you really are that triangle guy from two weeks ago?”

Soos: “Now that I'm thinking about it… A lot of things happened two weeks ago. That's when it began to get all wrong. Well, it was already wrong before that, but… That's really when you came that everything started to get all weird and… bad.“

Soos: “It all started because of that Summerween night. What did you want with us?”

Soos: “Why did you tell Dipper that Gideon summoned you?”

Bill: “It was just a job. Jobs are boring. There’s no fun in it if nobody’s trying to stop you.”

Bill: “Oh, and you wanna know the best part? If you’d taken Shooting Star along with you instead of going just the two of you, perhaps you would’ve had an opportunity to beat me.”

Soos: What did you do with Gideon two weeks ago? Dipper and I knew it wasn’t a coincidence that those government guys showed up just the next day.

Bill: “Something that neither Pine Tree nor I want anybody to find out, I bet. Also if I were to tell you, you'd either faint or spend the next fourteen hours trying to explain it all to Red. Funny, but not worth it.”

Soos is disturbed by Bill’s attitude, because of course he tries to both troll and traumatize at once, and given how Soos was already terrified of Bill because of the Summerween night (”I’ve had nightmares for weeks!” from an earlier comic page), it doesn’t help. Soos tries to ask Bill about the deal he made with Gideon -- more specifically, he asks what Bill wanted in return for stealing the code from Stan’s mind. However, Bill doesn’t answer and instead opens the bedroom door to reveal that Mabel was trying to eavesdrop.

Mabel was mostly there to make sure that everything was alright, and deduces that Bill hadn't slept at all during the first night and that he intends to never sleep at all, even after she tells him that humans need sleep to survive. Thankfully she came prepared with a “surprise gift from Candy and Grenda”, and sprays Bill with Fairy Dust.

Mabel: “There’s probably enough in that bag to knock out a gremloblin in an instant, so I think he’s good for the night. :p”

Once Bill is asleep, Dipper takes this chance to come to his Dreamscape and talk to him one-on-one; and, he is not happy at how Bill treated Mabel so far. Still, after a certain point the conversation gets to a more pressing topic.

Bill: “You saw it happen, didn’t you?”

Bill: “Weirdmageddon. You saw it, right?”

Dipper: “. . .”

Bill: “Oh-ho, even better! There’s a timeline in which YOU make it happen, isn’t there?”

Dipper: “That’s not gonna happen.”

Bill: “Look kid, take it from me. The more you try to actively prevent a specific outcome, the more likely you usually make it happen.”

Dipper: “You can’t make something happen if you specifically stop everything that can lead to it from happening first.”

Dipper: “Even if it includes lying to Mabel… I saw it. If she learns there’s a way to get me a physical form, she’ll try anything to make it happen and disregard the consequences. I bet she trusts me to keep things under control, but everything else? There’s just... There’s too many variables. We can’t let her know anything about the portal. Or Weirdmageddon.”

Bill: “Well, that doesn’t change anything from my original plan anyway.”

Bill: “So you’re just gonna stay in the Nightmare Realm forever, is that it?”

Dipper: “That’s not much of a plan so far, but that’s still an effective way to save the world.”

Bill: “Don’t mess with me. You DO know that if you don’t make your way to another dimension eventually, you’re just going to die, right?”

Dipper: “... W-what are you talking about?”

Bill: “Wait. You REALLY didn’t figure that out yet?”

Bill: “The Nightmare Realm is unstable. It’s just gonna collapse one of these days, destroy everything in it. Could be in a billion years. Could be tomorrow.”

After leaving Bill’s Dreamscape, Dipper decides to visit Wendy’s and tell her everything. He confirms her doubts, tells her the whole story with the carpet... And he tells her about Weirdmageddon and what Bill just told him about the Nightmare Realm.

Dipper: “I mean, it’s better this way for everyone, and of course I’m not gonna go with Bill’s original plan to destroy the laws of physics or whatever, but… I-I just don’t wanna die, you know?”

Wendy: “Don’t worry. We’ll find a way.”

> Summary of chapters 3 and 4

#pt comic #pt compilation #pythagorean thoughts

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scullysexual · 3 years

Text

{untitled post col fic: 2}

Chapter 1 link here. Ao3 link here.

Still working on a title for this. So this has become a thing that looks like it’s going to be regularly updated. There’s no posting schedule rn, I’m just posting whenever. Currently I’m eager to write this so chances are it’ll be posted on random days.

@today-in-fic @mypanicface Let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

- - -

Chapter Two.

Sunlight streams down through the bars, across her face. She tries to block the light with an arm but it’s useless. The cement ground is hard and her other arm aches with laying on it all night.

It wasn’t the first time Scully had found herself in The Box and it wouldn’t be the last.

Scully stretches, her body just about fitting the length of the small room, and pushes herself to sit up. Morning has arrived and she won’t have to wait long for somebody to unlock the doors. She’s been in here before, she knows the drill.

In the meantime, she shakes her arm back to life and wonders when it will be time to move on from this place.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The red clone forcefully yanks her out of the van by the chain between her handcuffs. The metal cuts against her skin and Scully bites her tongue so as not to yell out. Once upon a time, she was putting the handcuffs on.

Having been stuck in darkness for what feels like forever, the sun is too bright and Scully finds herself having to squint.

“I don’t want to hear a word from you,” the red one tells her before pushing her into the line. She stumbles slightly but quickly regains her balance, throwing daggers towards the back of the clone’s head.

With her eyes adjusted, it doesn’t take Scully long to realise where she is. There’s a drop in her stomach as she stares up at her prison. They can build a new building but the fencing and grass have all relatively stayed the same. This was once the spot The White House sat.

She’s home. She’s walked past this street, this area, multiple times. Her apartment not too far away.

It becomes too much, to be standing here like she is, anxious and afraid of what to come but she will not cry, she won’t give them that.

There’s a thought to run. It was possible. Only her hands are cuffed together, her feet free. Adrenaline will make her run faster and she knows her way around this city probably better than the clones do.

But no. Her eyes catch the guards that stand around, their hands glued to their machine guns. She might be able to run fast but not faster than they can pull the trigger.

“Are these the new ones?”

A man’s voice cuts through her thoughts. Scully looks to the front to see a man with a long face and pointy chin, his hair a yellow colour of blonde. For the most part he looks human but Scully can see the slightly larger orbital cavity.

One of them. The colonists Mulder used to talk about, that she never believed existed- that nobody believed existed- standing before her.

“They are, sir,” the blue clone pipes up. “Most of them were found hiding in the Outskirts.”

The Colonist makes his way down the line, seeming to check each woman out. When he reaches Scully he stops and Scully doesn’t have the nerve to look him in the eye anymore.

“You were supposed to bring them to me unharmed,” the Colonist shouts, sounding furious.

“We had no option but to, sir,” the red one explains. With the Colonist looking away, Scully grins, he doesn’t sound so sure of himself now. “She forced us to.”

Her grin falls quickly when the Colonist turns back to her. His hand brushes against the bruise.

“We’ll get that looked at,” he says calmly and soothingly.

And maybe it was his hand touching her that had bile rising in her throat. Or maybe because she was scared and alone and feeling that fire slowly begin to fade out that makes her bat the Colonist’s hand away and cry out.

“Don’t touch me!”

She can almost hear everyone hold their breath. The Colonist’s grey eyes turn to cold ice. Out of nowhere something heavy collides with her ribs and abdomen. A cracked rib surely as Scully falls to the ground, her torso screaming in agony, those tears she promised she wouldn’t give them coming to her eyes as she splutters and coughs.

“And let that be a lesson to you all!” she hears the Colonist shout.

Scully stays laying on the ground, clutching her ribs, trying to calm herself. She’ll kill him, she thinks. She’ll kill them all.

“Take them inside,” the Colonist instructs. “Prepare them for the Initiation Ceremony.”

There’s a trample of feet moving. Scully knows she should get up, to follow them, but if they just left her here to die she wouldn’t fight it.

“What about this one?” one of the clones ask.

“Take her to the hospital.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Spirits were high. One of the girls was pregnant and that meant the community had a reason to celebrate.

Mulder learned quickly that being part of the Higher didn’t really mean much. He got a nice house and wasn’t a slave but the real power still resided with the colonists.

He was told they run the facilities that train the new slaves before they’re sold for auction next month. He had bought Chloe, of course. In a race against another potential buyer, Mulder had almost spent a year’s allowance on her for fear she would end up with the slimy bastard who’s reputation for owning most of the girls put on sale just so he could brutally mutilate and abuse those who didn’t give him results in the first month sent shivers down Mulder’s spine. He had won the girl and after two months with no results, it was lucky he had too.

A new month was approaching and a new auction along with it. Most of the girls auctioned off came from the facility but if a Higher grew tired of the slave they had, if she had given them a child and they wanted no more, she too would be in the mix. Every month for the past four months Mulder had gone to the auction in the hopes that maybe she would be there but it hadn’t been the case and he was beginning to lose hope she was even in California.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Motels and bars had become a rarity in the world now, however the odd one still stood, mainly to serve the Colonists or hybrids who might have to travel. They were dangerous for a simple human to visit, he and Scully would often avoid them for fear of capture but right now they were the best place to head if they wanted information.

Concealed by a hood, in a booth furthest to the corner, the few people occupying the bar pay him no attention. Skinner sits beside him, a beer in front of him, and when he takes a sip, his face contorts in disgust.

“Tastes like shit,” the man says, pushing the beer away.

“Keep drinking it anyway,” says Mulder. They didn’t want to draw suspicion to themselves after all.

The door to the bar opens and a weasel little man wanders in. He throws a nervous look to a man nearest the door- someone Mulder immediately recognised to be a Colonist- before his eyes dart around, landing on Mulder’s.

The little man makes a beeline for their booth, sitting himself down opposite Mulder.

“You’re Mulder, right?” the man asks.

Mulder refuses to clarify, asking, “What have you got?”

“I was told you were looking for someone called Scully.”

Mulder’s heart clenches in his chest. After all these years of searching is he really going to find what he’s looking for in one man.

“What do you know?” Skinner asks.

“Just that she gets auctioned a lot,” the man says. He keeps his voice low, his eyes constantly wandering over to the others in the bar. “That she’s trouble.”

Mulder fights to keep the grin from appearing on his face, he would expect no less from his Scully.

“Do you know where she is?”

With a clear glance towards the Colonist closest to the door, Mulder’s informant shifts forward.

“There are rumours she’s in California.”

Mulder bashes his fist on the table causing the drinks to spill and the man to jump in his seat.

“Rumours?!” Mulder shouts. A few people look their way before going back to their business. His voice quieter this time, Mulder asks, “All you can give me is rumours?”

The man is pale, scared and nervous.

“That’s- that’s all I know,” he splutters.

Clenching his jaw, Mulder sits back in his seat and shakes his head.

The door opens to enter a newcomer and the man’s face looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“I’m sorry I don’t have more,” the man says. He’s quickly standing from his seat. “Cali,” he says again as he backs away from the booth. “Go to Cali.”

Mulder was pissed. All these years and still no closer.

“I’m not following rumours,” he declares.

“You might not have a choice,” Skinner says, Mulder’s voice of reason since the disappearance of Scully. His sanity. “It’s been five years and this is the closest we’ve came. We have a location.”

Skinner was right. It may just be a rumour but it was the first utter of a location and rumours have some truth to them.

So Mulder nods, a new plan formulating in his mind. California his new destination.

“Cali,” he says agreeing. “We just have to get there.”

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

The door is unlocked and Edie stands in the doorway. She’s younger than Scully yet her hybrid-status puts her much higher position than Scully will ever be. Not that Edie sees that. Babysitting future human sex slaves was never her end goal.

“Learnt your lesson?” Edie asks.

A question she asks every time Scully ends up in The Box and each time Scully nods. They both know full well that by next time, Scully will be back in this box.

“Pack up your stuff,” Edie says as Scully climbs out the room. “You’re leaving.”

Her month is up already, Scully thinks. She hadn’t been keeping track. Days and months didn’t work like they used too, Scully doesn’t even think they call it 2002 anymore.

But this was it, she was leaving the prison. Her face scarred and her clothes consisting a multiple grey dresses. She wonders who long of a life she has left before they realise her body cannot build babies.

#post col sad angsty fic #i write

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celestialflamesme · 3 years

Text

| TROIA | A Stashi One-shot | Fairy Tail Next Generation |

Ships: Nashi Dragneel x Storm Fullbuster, slight Rin Fullbuster x Rosemary Fernandez

Nashi didn't know why she ever thought letting Venetia choose a job request this time would be a good idea.

In fact she didn't exactly recall telling her she could, let alone promising her, because it was a well known fact in Magnolia, albeit in the guild itself.

Venetia plus anything equals catastrophe.

She loved her friend (don't tell the lug-nut she said that) to death, but Redfox was also the kid that stole an S-class mission at 11, so she wasn't much of a 'think before you act' kind of person.

Nevertheless, the rest of the team didn't think it was that bad of a job, and the reward was good so they agreed. Nashi had a lingering doubt about how the day's events would go, but she brushed those thoughts aside for the sake of the greater good.

The greater good being beating Team Storm by going on more jobs than them.

Team Nashi reached the village after a sickeningly long train ride that Rosemary DID NOT help ease in the slightest by knocking them out, no matter what she says otherwise.

The beautiful expanse of a land was incredible to stare at and Venetia smirked at their reactions as if to say 'and y'all doubted me haha'.

"Oh my! What are you kids doing there? Come on here!" A lady who looked to be in her mid-forties waved at them.

Sylvia tried to beat Rin to their host, but her annoying twin sauntered forward and shot her a gorgeous grin as he introduced the team.

"How polite!" The lady gushed and Sylvia grit her teeth.

She invited them in for tea and explained the situation. Her husband, the village head, and several other males had been held hostage by a group of mages that had been threatening everyone to pay hefty sums of money every month.

She pondered for a moment. "Some kids your age came here earlier actually. They said they'd help rescue my husband and the others. Are you kids their backup? Is that why you're here?"

Rosemary narrowed her eyes as she spoke, "A group of kids our age, you say? Were they from the same guild as ours?"

The lady nodded.

"Well ma'am, we best be on our way then! Can't risk waiting any longer!" The red head's eyes flickered with what the teammates could only call utter madness, before rising from her seat as she rushed out.

"Wait, dear girl? Oh, she seems to be an eager one!"

Rin let out a sigh as his eyes crinkled in adoration, "ALL the more eager when there's competition."

"You kids will need horses, if you ever want to catch up to them then! To the stables!" The woman cheered.

"Horses..."

The two dragonslayers shuddered as they stared at the monstrosities. Sylvia groaned.

"You two will be of no use then! First we take the same mission, and next, only half the team can function fully! This day just keeps getting better and better!" She threw her hands in the air frustratedly.

"Unless we use troia, of course!" Rin snapped his fingers and gave his sister a cocky grin, who retaliated by grumpily flipping a bird at him.

15 minutes later, they found Rosemary speed-walking. She gladly accepted the invitation to ride with Rin, who looked like a kid at Christmas. His grin widened further when Rosemary wrapped her arms around his waist, much to Sylvia and Nashi's amusement.

They reached their destination - A half-burnt cabin at the edge of the forest overlooking the giant lake- only to find Team Storm who'd already engaged in combat.

Rosemary joined the fray in a span of less than 5 seconds, sending spell after spell at the bandits with an evil glint in her eyes.

"What the-Rose, what are you doing here?" Reiki raised an eyebrow while throwing daggers at a goon, who squealed in terror as one hit him, leaving him stuck on a nearby tree.

Nashi grinned as she yelled,"We're here to get the job money, of course. FIRST ONE TO GET ALL OF THESE DUMBASSES ROUNDED UP GETS DIBS!"

Storm yelped, "Aw fuck, the flamehead is here too?"

"I HEARD THAT, ICE CONE! YOU WANNA GO?!!!"

"ARE YOU TWO FIGHTING AGAIN?"

"NO SIR!!" they both yelled as Reiki cracked his knuckles at them.

Seeing the pinkette distracted, a mage took this as a chance to attack her.

"Lightning Strike!"

Nashi turned around just in time to shield herself from the attack. "FIRE DRAGON ROAR!"

Venetia hollered, "JOIN US, FIRE BREATH! WE'RE ABOUT TO KICK ALL THEIR ASSES!"

They managed to round up all the bandits and tied them to the horses. Meanwhile Nova, Luke and Sylvia freed the villagers, who profusely thanked them, glad to finally be able to see their families.

"Why do I still have a feeling that something's going to go wrong?" Nashi muttered to herself.

"Maybe because something always has to go wrong in Team Nashi's missions?" Storm inputted with a smirk.

She gasped at the accusation, fixing him with one of the nastiest glare she she could muster. If looks could spontaneously combust, the whole town would be extinct right this very second.

"YOU WISH!"

"I don't have to, it's reality!" The Devil-Slayer's smirk intensified. The pinkette was tempted to rip the smirk right off his face and maybe claw out one of his godforsaken blue eyes out with a nearby branch. To no avail however, as Kai seemed to have realised that an object as dangerous as a branch was not to be kept in close proximity to a walking-talking demolition kit.

Note to self: Spit in Kai's drink as payback for confiscating a crucial element in her Quick-murder inventory. Oh, how nefarious....

On that thought, she clambered onto her horse with grace akin to a blind Walrus. Rin had briefed both of the first-timers on riding and what-not, but the keypoint that Nashi noted was that if the horse was calm and steady, she was safe. If not, a ticket to her Uncle Zeref was overdue.

Hey, at least Mavis would be more than cordial to her. And she was sure her Gramps Igneel would be on board her 'haunting Storm till he lost all sanity' idea. The possibilities were endless.

What she failed to notice during her inner monologue was the stealthily creeping Mage that had earlier managed to hide himself among the foliage, approaching her horse.

In what Nova would later describe fondly as 'the snowball effect', he yanked Nashi's leg, attempting to throw her off her horse, just in time for the Lightning Slayer to notice and send an attack that left him immobilised.

It was at that moment that Nova realised that she'd utterly fucked up.

"HOLY FUCKKK!!" Nashi was left screeching in horror as her horse decided to live out it's dream of winning the Derby.

Hanging onto it's mane like her life depended on it, she tried to (keyword being tried) mount her horse, which was impossible considering the damn beast of an animal was sprinting like it was possessed.

She faintly registered a flash of light before a sheet of ice blocked the horse's path. It steadied itself instead of trying to break through it to her relief, and she solemnly swore never to watch reruns of Mission Impossible with equines ever again.

She chose to collapse on the muddy ground, squinting at the sun as she tried to steady her breathing. The raven-head sat himself next to her as he scanned her for possible injuries.

"How many fingers am I holding?" His breathless voice questioned.

"Wait let's see, one-two-," she deadpanned, "Twelve."

He smacked her head, making her yelp, his eyebrow raised as if daring her to retaliate. She briskly stood up with a scowl on her face. The ground rattled as the rest their team caught up to them.

"The next train to Magnolia is in an hour, so you both had better hurry!" Rosemary barked.

"Gee, thanks for asking if I was okay!" The pinkette rolled her eyes and jabbed Storm with her elbow as he muttered 'Drama Queen'.

"GEEZ WOMAN! You're riding with me by the way," he bit his lip as he smirked at her face that now morphed into one of disgust.

"Oh HELL NO!"

"Get on the horse Nashi!" Rosemary's eyes narrowed. Nashi and Storm shot Rin looks of pity as his face contorted into a pained grimace when the Manipulation Mage's grip tightened. He really did deserve to be lauded for bearing with her violence.

Speaking of violence, she imagined a dozen ways of pushing Fullbuster off the horse and riding off into the sunset. Now that's a happy ending....

He lazily snapped his fingers in front of her face, and she noticed that he'd mounted the horse already. Shooting him a last annoyed look, she climbed the steed and he whipped the reins as the horse began to steadily gallop.

"Not to be condescending, but I figured you'd know that you have to hold on in order not to faceplant on the ground," she could sense the smug look on his face. Not today, Satan.

"And risk you trying to feel me up? No, thank you," she snarkily retorted.

"Oh please, if anyone's risking sexual harassment, it's me. Your hands just waiting to feel my chest up," she gaped at him and spluttered indignant.

"Well-your-your CHEST IS JUST WAITING TO FEEL MY HANDS UP!"

"Maybe it is," he tilted his head as he winked at her. Her narrowed eyes and grimace provoked a chuckle out of him.

"Pervert."

"Sure, sure," he brushed her off. He abruptly stopped the horse, sending her tumbling into his shoulder. Her hands harshly gripped his coat as she yelled profanities at him.

"Not my fault you didn't hold on tight enough," he whistled innocently.

She let out a growl of frustration as she pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. "HAPPY?"

"You loveeeee me," he teased. He winced as she pinched him, clearly unimpressed.

"Claws off me, woman. Play nice!" He scolded and cracked the reins in a fluid moment, and they were off.

And Nashi pretended as if his cologne didn't cloud her senses and the firm grasp his hand had on her didn't make her face flush.

.................

"I need a picture of both of you!"

"WHAT?!" Both the mages screeched in shock.

The village head winced at them symphathetically as his wife's eyes glittered in excitement.

"You both look ADORABLE together! When's the wedding?" She cheered as she took pictures.

"WE'RE NOT- HE'S NOT- NO NEVER! GROSSSSS" their faces contorted into identical grimaces as their oh so helpful teammates snickered.

The lady waved them off, "They always say that, now CLOSER! HOLD HIM TIGHTER!"

"Well, she's still better than Max!" The pinkette muttered as she rested her head against his shoulder.

"Amen to that."

...............

A week after, Mirajane seemed way too cheery for her own good.

"NASHI! THERE YOU ARE!"

Several heads turned to glance at the dragon slayer as she gulped nervously. She reached the bar as the older Takeover Mage grinned at her.

"Laxus requested both you and Storm to participate in this contest. Compulsorily."

She scrunched her nose slightly as she took in the words 'Couple' and 'shoot'. "Aunt Mira, I've told you this a billion times already, WE DON'T LIKE EACH OTHER THAT WAY! HECK, WE DON'T EVEN LIKE EACH OTHER!"

Mira's grin only widened as she remarked, "These pictures seem to tell a different story."

Nashi's eyes widened dramatically as she whipped her head and met the She-Devil's eyes. "YOU wouldn't-"

"Too late, I've already sent it!"

A frustrated growl erupted across the guild, and the members collectively shook their heads at the Matchmaker.

A few weeks later, Nashi was relieved to know that she hadn't won the contest after all. That was shortlived however, as Storm marched up to her table and slammed the latest edition of Sorcerer's weekly on it.

She blinked rapidly as she glanced at the picture of- wait, was that Jake and Rose?

"THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL I'M LOSING TO JAKE AND ROSE! GET YOUR ASS OFF, SALSA BREATH, WE HAVE WORK TO DO!" He lifted her off her chair, despite her squeals of protest and threats to disembowel him and, throwing her on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, raced out of the guild, much to everyone's delight.

Even worse, she didn't know whether to kick him where the sun don't shine or stare at his butt. Which was definitely a no-no.

She swore off horses and troia from that day.

............

#stashi #nashi dragneel #storm fullbuster #rin fullbuster #rosemary fernandez #fairy tail #next generation #nalu #gruvia #jerza #rosemary x rin #storm x nashi #nasha x greige #nashi x storm

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obxlife · 4 years

Text

To Me (Rafe x Reader)

A/N: I swear this is like the millionth Rafe request I’ve gotten lol. Tbh I love it, keep them Rafe requests coming. Btw the song recommended by anon was amazing! I totally recommend all of you listen to it. Also, I’m not really sure if I portrayed Rafe very well, but oh well. I still like this fic.

Pairing: Rafe x Reader

Word count: 4,076

Request: A Rafe fic where him and the reader dated for a while and broke up because his attitude got overbearing and they run into each other at a party or something? And like he can’t take his eyes off her. I’ve been listening to the song “To Me” by Alina Baraz and it put that kind of imagery in my head

Summary: After two months of hiding away from everybody (and kind of regretting the fact that you ended your last relationship), your best friend manages to pull you out of bed and take you to a party. However, you obviously run into your ex. And from there things only seemed to escalate.

Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, a bit of angst (if you squint your eyes), mentions of drug use.

TO ME

It’s been a while since you heard from me

I stay alone

Protect my energies

Found a little love

Lost my sanity

(Can we do it over?)

And then one day it just came to me

(Can we do it over?)

Camille walked into your room, scrunching up her nose. She saw you under your covers, scrunched up in a ball, unmoving.

“It stinks in here,” she remarked. You stuck your head out from under your duvet and looked at her as she began to pick up the trash around your room (mostly chocolate wrappers, empty ice cream tubs, and tissues) and tidy up. “How long has it been since you last went out?”

You sighed. “Twenty minutes. I need to go to the kitchen for some food.”

Camille gave you a hard look as if you signal that your answer was not exactly what he was looking for. “I mean, how long has it been since you left your house?”

You tried to think if you had even left your house recently, but came up empty-handed. “I guess… since the breakup, yeah.”

Camille groaned. “Oh, God. Are you serious?”

You tried to glare at her, but ultimately knew she was right. You had no excuses for being cooped up in your room anymore.

“Look,” she began, taking a seat next to you on the bed. “I know you loved him. And I know you miss him. But it’s been two months already. And, let’s be honest, towards the end he was being a bit overbearing.”

You gave her a soft smile, thankful she hadn’t even mentioned his name.

She was right. Your best friend was always right.

You sighed and told her so, smiling as she did the same.

“Okay, so now that you have decided to be a normal human again,” you made an offended noise at this, “Will you please go to a party with me?”

Your eyes widened. “What about baby steps? This would be my first time going out again! I can’t just immediately jump into partying!”

Camille gave you her famous puppy eyes. “Please,” she begged, “Austin is going to be there and we were flirting earlier today. Just do this for me!”

You sighed. “Wouldn’t people find it weird if I just start partying around again, like old times? It’s almost as if I didn’t even grief over the end of my year-long relationship.”

You put an emphasis on the last words of your statement to make your point, but Camille quickly disregarded this.

“Trust me,” she assured, “Nobody will think that because he began to party two days after you guys had called it off.”

“What?” you screeched. Hearing this information pained you. “Really?”

Camille nodded sadly. But then she beamed at you. “But, now you can show up looking super hot and be like ‘Him? Pfff.’ So, maybe this is better!”

You laughed at your friend’s antics to cheer you up. She had managed to convince you (once again) about something you weren’t sure about. This was exactly the dynamic that had always been part of your friendship.

You pretended to groan, although you were actually excited to go out and see your friends again, and said, “Fine. I’ll go. But I’m only doing this because you begged me to.”

Camille shrieked in joy. “Yes, yes, yes! Okay, now hop in the shower because I wasn’t lying when I said that you stink.”

Standing up and moving towards your bathroom, you threw a snarky remark at her over your shoulder before asking her to pick out an outfit for you. With that, you jumped into the steaming water.

I'm not asking for too much

I'm asking the wrong motherfucker

Just 'cause we're in love

Doesn't mean that we're right for each other

Can't keep makin' a home out of you

Just 'cause you're asking me to

I'm not asking for too much

(Can we do it over?)

Once you began to wash yourself off, you began to imagine possible scenarios of what might go done during the party. The one that scared you the most was running into him.

To be honest, the relationship had been amazing. At first, you and him were so completely infatuated with each other. You guys were having sex (which was amazing), going on dates all the time, being honest with each other, everything. But then, he turned eighteen. And his dad began to bug him about joining his business.

He began to push you away. he was stressed and all you wanted to do was help him and love him and show him that he was doing fine and that it was okay. But he didn’t want that. He began to do drugs - not weed, but harder stuff. Stuff that scared you and made him act out of place all the time. Stuff that made you afraid of him.

But then, every time he was sober he would make it better again, and promise that he would never do that again and that it had been the last time. However, next time always came around and the cycle repeated himself.

In an attempt to take his stress out on other things that weren’t drugs, he began to pick fights with the kids from the Cut. You had begged him to leave them alone. To stop going around and punching them. He just wouldn’t listen.

And then came the screaming. He would scream and scream and scream at you for hours on end. And you took it. You thought that the screaming was better than him taking all of those drugs and punching all of those kids. You thought that the screaming was better than him driving around on his motorcycle, pissed off at everything, and risking the chance of having an accident.

In public, both of you put up a facade of the perfect couple. He was trying to make his dad proud by having a stable relationship. He was trying to prove that if he was mature enough for a stable relationship he was mature enough to help out with the business. And all you wanted to do was see him happy, so you kept the facade on in front of everyone.

Your friends would all compliment you on the amazing boyfriend you had. But when you finally had the courage to tell them what was truly going on behind closed doors they urged you to escape. But they didn’t understand. Couldn’t they see you loved him? Couldn’t they see that he just needed your help?

However, they would turn these questions on you.

“Can’t you see that loving him is hurting you? Helping him is hurting you, Y/N!”

You wouldn’t listen. All you wanted - no, all you needed - was him. And you had him. And since he wanted more than only you, you were helping him in every way possible to achieve that.

Five months after he had turned eighteen, however, he did something that made you change your perspective on your relationship. This screaming match, in particular, had begun just like any other.

He was drunk and high off his ass, and you were begging him that this was the last time he would do this. He began to scream out that this kept him grounded, getting high made him feel normal and better and amazing. He said that being high made him feel better than you had ever made him feel. As you began to cry, he kept throwing out words that felt like punches to your gut. And then he finally said it. The one thing that had scarred you in your past, and he was using it to get at you.

“Maybe you were the reason your mother left you.”

After that, he walked out of your room, leaving you on the floor, chocking on your sobs.You had called Camille over, and as she rocked you back and forth you came up with a decision. This was the last time. This was the last time Rafe was going to use you as he had in the past three months.

The following day you went to the Cameron residence. Rafe met you at the door, and when he leaned down to give you a hug, you stepped back.

Rafe frowned. Normally, you wouldn’t even expect an apology for what he had done and hugged him back.

“We need to talk,” you told him.

He nodded. “Okay. What about?”

You sighed through your nostrils, closing your eyes for a small second. “About last night.”

Rafe’s frown deepened. You had never wanted to talk about his episodes before. You had always ignored them and moved on. You had ever since he had shut you down the first time you had brought them up.

Tears were prickling your eyes because you still loved him after everything he had done. But you had realized that you loved yourself more.

“I can’t keep doing this, Rafe,” you spoke out, your voice breaky. “I can’t keep helping you and ignoring the pain that it brings me.”

Rafe shook his head, not believing that this was happening. “No, don’t say that.”

“How do you want me not to say that?” you belted out. “I’ve been exerting myself every day and every night to help you through all of your issues. And I’ve had to go through your screaming at me and taking drugs and making me worry. And I’m done.”

Rafe kept on shaking his head, tears falling down his cheeks. “No, baby, please. I love you. I’ll change, I promise.”

You scoffed. “That’s what you always say.”

“But I do. I love you. And I know I can change. Just give me a chance.”

You shook your head and sighed. The tears that had fallen down your cheek were now trailing down your neck. Rafe moved forward to wipe them, but you stepped back. “I know, Rafe. I love you too, but that doesn’t mean we’re made for each other.”

Rafe remained quiet, the hand that had attempted to reach out to you still extended in the air.

“And even if I love you, Rafe, I need to protect myself. You’ve brought me a lot of pain.”

Rafe tried to make things better. “Y/N, baby, I swear I’ll make it better. I’ll get off the coke and I’ll talk things out with my dad.”

You just shook your head. “I’m sorry.”

You turned away, your back facing everything you had once wanted.

“So that’s it?” he called out, desperately wanting you to look at him again. “Everything we went through down the drain.”

You continued to walk away.

Here's to

Good people, good nights

Good highs, good health

Some tears, some stress

But I count my blessings

Here's to

Good music, great sex

Little time to feel alive

Little time to get it right

You hopped out of the shower and dried yourself off.

Camille had picked an outfit that was perfect. It made you look great and it was really comfortable.

You let your mind drift off as she did your hair and makeup. You didn’t really mind whatever she did.

You both hopped into the car, Camille behind the wheel and you in the passenger’s seat. You placed your bag at your feet and stuffed a vodka bottle inside. Once you stopped at the house where the party was already in full swing, you gave Camille the bag and she passed you the keys. You were not about to get drunk when still grieving from a breakup.

Walking in, you scanned the room. The couches were all covered in bedsheets and pushed into the walls. The porch was littered with drunk teenagers, some talking, some dancing, some throwing up and some grinding on each other.

Camille grabbed onto your hand and pulled you through the house. You finally ended in the kitchen where your other friends stood.

“Y/N,” Abigail screamed when she saw you. Ruby and Annabeth turned towards you, hugging you tightly. “We thought it would be another month before we saw you!”

You laughed and joked around with them. “No, Camille managed to pull me out of bed. But I’m glad I came. I’ve missed you, guys!”

With that, shots were poured from the vodka that was in your bag into four glasses, which they all drank quickly, begging you to join them. You simply denied their advances and stated that you were going to rive them home. This shut them up (you knew they always went to parties with no drives back to their places, so you knew this would keep them quiet).

After two more shot rounds your friends dragged you to the dance floor, where music was playing loudly and made your heart thump with its rhythm.

You felt eyes upon you but tried to shake that feeling off. Not being able to do so, you looked around for who might be looking at you but didn't realize who it could be.

Rafe had turned away from you when he had noticed your search. He hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of you.

He thought you looked amazing, and his heart clenched at not being able to wrap his arm around your waist.

The break up had been hard on him. But he was determined to keep the promise he had made you. He had stopped doing coke the day you walked away. He had talked to his father the day you had walked away. And he had headed out to parties he didn’t want to go to in hopes of bumping into you.

He wanted to be better for you. He didn’t want to be the source of your pain as you had stated he had been. He didn’t want to be damaging you more than helping you. But that had been exactly what he had done. He had broken you down and hurt you more than he wanted to admit.

You looked better without him. He knew that for sure. There was a smile on your face as you jokingly threw it back on Camille - a smile that hadn’t been there with him for the last months of the relationship. A smile that he hadn’t witnessed in moths. A smile that lit up the room where you were standing, with a loght so blinding that it made his heart clench.

How could he have let himself go as far as he did? As far as to push you away from him?

Rafe stood from the couch, his desire to be closer to you consuming him. However, he stepped further away from you towards a spot on the porch that was empty. A spot where he could think in peace and fall into his own self-pity.

You, on the other hand, hadn´t even thought of Rafe. You were so busy dancing and having fun with your friends that there was nothing else in your mind at the moment.

Camille had left you with Ruby, Annabeth, and Abigail as she had gone off into a room with Austin, but they were slowly branching off from you as they searched for their preys of the night. Deciding not to get involved with any boys (you did not want to have a rebound), you headed towards the kitchen to get a cup of water. Then, you turned towards the porch, where it would be less stuffy and easier to breathe.

Walking out, you tried to find a spot that was empty or kind of isolated. After two full circles around the porch you decided to stop next to a guy that seemed familiar to you, but you couldn’t recognize because his back was all you could see. However, looking down at his polo shirt you knew exactly who was in front of you. Rafe.

You tried to silently walk by him, but just as you placed your foot down to walk away, he sighed and turned towards you. His eyes widened to almost twice their size, and you were sure your eyes looked the same.

“Um, h-hey,” you spoke out, trying to be polite. You cleared your throat, as it suddenly felt even dryer than it was back inside while you were dancing.

“Hey,” Rafe said softly, not believing that you were actually talking to him. He nervously put his hands in his pockets (a habit you knew all too well) before asking, “How are you?”

You stepped closer to the railing and brought your cup up to your lips. Then you placed your arms on top of the railing of the porch and looked out towards the water that surrounded the house.

“I’m good,” you answered, lying. In all honesty, your heart was racing in your chest and your hands were so sweaty you could feel the cup you held slipping from your hands. “What about you?”

“Oh, I’m good, I guess,” he spoke out. He wasn’t expecting you to stand next to him at all. In fact, he was almost certain that you were going to try to escape from him as soon as he responded to your greeting.

You both fell silent, not really knowing what to say. When had your relationship turned you into this? Into strangers?

Before, even when things were bad, there would always be some form of communication flowing between both of you. Wether it was a soft whisper, small talk, screams, or moans, you were never quiet around each other. So, feeling awkward and wanting you to know how much he had improved recently, Rafe said, “Um, I wanted you to know that I stopped dealing coke. And doing it, as well.”

You turned towards the blond you knew so well. A smile adorned your lips as you felt proud of him. “Really? When did that happen?”

Rafe felt weird talking about this around you. Wiping his hands on his pants, the only reason he could think as to why he had stopped was you.

“The day after we broke up.”

Silence fell over you once again before you said, “I’m proud of you. And happy for you.”

Rafe nodded, looking down at his hands. His thumbs were twidling around each other. Next to him, your fingers gripped onto your cup, as to avoid any fidgeting.

“Thanks,” the green-eyed boy said truthfully. “I also spoke to my dad.”

You almost gasped in surprise. “When? How did it go?”

Rafe turned towards you and was surprised to find that you were already looking at him. He stared into your eyes, getting lost in their depths, and turned forward once again.

“The same day I stopped doing coke. And it went well - or as well as it could go. But we dealt with everything that had to be dealt with.”

Now your smile was consuming your features. You were afraid to do so, but you softly took his hand in yours and gave it a light squeeze. Then you let him go.

“I told you things would get better if you spoke to him.”

Rafe nodded. He always knew that you were right, but his fear had kept him from doing all of those things you used to beg him to do. But then, after his biggest fear came true (which was losing you), he pushed his temors aside. He would do anything to make you happy, even if you were not with him.

Clearing his throat, Rafe said, “So, what’s going on with you? How’s life?”

You knew you had to lie. You were not about to admit that you had spent two months locked in your room because of the fear of seeing him. You tried to rake your brain as to think about what to say.

“I haven’t been up to much, honestly,” you began. That wasn’t a lie. “I’ve mainly been hanging with the girls and just going to the beach and stuff.”

That was a lie. But he didn't need to know that. Instead, you asked him, “What about you? I’ve heard you’ve turned into a party boy.”

Rafe laughed, noticing the teasing tone of your voice.

“Ugh, please don’t remind me. Most of them sucked.”

You furrowed your brows. You had thought he had been going to parties to have fun, but it seemed as if that hadn’t happened.

“Why did you keep going to them if they sucked?”

Rafe breathed in and held the air inside his chest. This was the opportunity to steer yur conversation towards your relationship.

“I was hoping I would run into you,” he admitted. Rafe was afraid to see your reaction so he turned away from you. Instead, you whipped around towards him, trying to see if there was sincerity behind his eyes.

“Oh,” you replied bluntly and stupidly. You cleared your throat and stood a little straighter, akward again.

Rafe sighed before deciding that this was probably going to be his only chance to truly speak to you. And he was sure if this conversation ended, he would never get a chance like this one again.

“Look, Y/N,” he began. “I kept my promise. The one I made when you were walking away. And I’m actually trying to keep it.”

He paused, taking your hand in his. You turned to him again, staring straight into his eyes. “I know I fucked up big time. And that I hurt you. But I’m trying to be better for you. Like really trying.”

You weren’t pulling away from him, but you weren’t showing any emotions either. He tok your other hand in his, standing straighter above you.

“And I know that maybe we aren’t meant to be like you said, but when we were together it felt right. It felt good. It was amazing. And I miss that. I want that back.”

You were slighty shaking your head as tears began to gather at the corners of your eyes.

“So I don’t really care if we are or aren’t meant to be because I want to be with you. And maybe if we grow together we will eventually be meant to be. I want to try to be meant to be with you.”

You were shocked and weren’t responding. Rafe took this as a bad sign and let go of your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step back from you. “I just wanted you to know that.”

As he began to walk away you realized that this was the kind of reassurance you needed from him. He loved you enough to let you go. He loved you enough to make himself better for you. He loved you enough to be the best version of himself as possible. But now he was walking away because he thought you didn’t want him anymore. But you did.

“Rafe!” you called out. “Rafe, wait!”

Walking towards him, you wrapped your arms around him. You hugged for what felt like an eternity. The music was thumping around you and kids were making out with each other but you and Rafe felt like it was only you right now.

“Rafe,” you said. Your hands were on his face as you pushed a little away from him, staring into his eyes. “I love you. And I’m willing to be with you if you are willing to be the best version of yourself.”

He nodded vigorously.

“No, Rafe, listen to me before you agree,” you laughed. “I know that the best version of yourself, the one you were before you turned eighteen, is the person that is meant to be with me.”

Rafe nodded vigorously again.

“I need you to try and find him.”

“I’m him when I’m with you.”

You smiled at him. You could see a future with this Rafe. The Rafe that was clean and that had a good relationship with his father and that was collected and calm. You knew that this didn't mean that being back together with him wasn’t going to be easy, as he would always have this part of his past, but it was definitely going to be better. It was going to be better than if it was with anyone else.

You leaned forward and kissed him, feeling his lips respond against yours. You pulled away and smiled at the man in front of you. He was everything you wanted and more. And he was trying his best for you. And that was all that mattered.

#outer banks #obx #obx netflix #rafe cameron #drew starkey

118 notes · View notes

skysybil · 4 years

Text

Penumbra Superlatives: Most Likely To Be A Dark Matters NPC

The people demanded it, and I am indeed a magnanimous conspiracy theory machine, so here is my incredibly ridiculous reasoning behind my “who is in the dark matters simulation and who is fake” ranking, found here. Thank you to my partner for listening to me yell about this for 24 hours straight now. Man, I am gonna look like an idiot if this isn’t a Dark Matters induced simulation or dream in the end with how all-in I’ve been going with this.

Also, if you guys ever want me to lay out every fucking tiny detail I’ve seen that I think points to it being a simulation, I’ll do that too. Please validate me.

This is insanely long, it’s like two to three paragraphs for every member of the space family. This is kind of shameful, I almost feel bad. I’ll be your best friend forever if you read it all. Also, I’m putting it below the cut for everyone’s sanity. Anyway, let’s go lesbians, let’s go!

First, in the “definitely an active participant” category: Rrrrrita!

I’ll admit, it’s genuinely really hard to tell what discrepancies in the story are suspicious simulation details and what is just Rita being a particularly unreliable narrator. However, my first general point towards Rita being an active participant/player/whatever you want to call it is the fact that we’re experiencing this through her perspective! I think it would be really cool to tell the story from the perspective of a caricature puppeted by Dark Matters, but I feel like it would be way more obvious in gaps in her thinking patterns if she was fake. Honestly, I personally think it would be impossible to run it from the perspective of one of these NPCs (as i’m calling them) anyway, because... you know, they probably don’t have much in the way of thoughts in the first place.

Plus, out of everyone in the group, she is most likely to be plucked out of a group of criminals by Dark Matters to recruit. Sasha knows her (or at least knows of her) and how good she is at her job. I’m sure she’s got a target on her back as someone that’s too powerful (seriously, I pray for the universe the day Rita realizes just how quickly she could take over the world--see: my THEIA Rita AU that i came up with this morning which I might post about later), but I’m also pretty sure killing Rita would be seen as a wasted opportunity. This could just be another test, just like Day That Wouldn’t Die but in an even more controlled environment. The perfect trap, the perfect test--hopefully for perfect results. And with how she tends to get caught up in glamour and drama or get distracted so easily, she’s one of the easiest members of the group to trick into not questioning the little discrepancies that comes from living in a lie.

---

Next, Vespa. Love of my life and the only other member of the Carte Blanche crew that I’m almost totally sure is sharing space in this simulation.

She’s in a similar position that she’s a valuable asset for Dark Matters to try and take on--especially if they can use her past debts as blackmail or something along those lines. She’s a damn good assassin and they tend to specialize in making people disappear. Why wouldn’t they seize the opportunity to test her and see if she could truly work for them? Dark Matters also seems to lack an ethical core, to say the least, and if they consider her past trauma and her illness to be an issue, I’m sure they wouldn’t be against trying to “fix” her in their horribly scummy ways just so she could be a better killer for their organization. It could also be related to her skills as a doctor with the crew, to be fair--while Rita is off building robots and trying to break into a super secret base, Vespa is repairing the entire medical wing, an incredibly suspicious task when apparently enough of the ship survived that Rita’s computers are okay, the entire crew is unscathed, and the Ruby isn’t a warped hunk of metal.

Though she is also very likely to be nabbed by Dark Matters as an opportunity, the main condemning thing against Vespa being an NPC is the conversation we overhear with Buddy. No one else knows that Vespa considered or decided on leaving the crew. We can’t say that’s a part of Rita’s mind affecting the simulation around her because Rita doesn’t know, and it’s not information that could be hacked, either. It was just in her mind. Unless Dark Matters has their hands on new mind reading technology (oh god, not this shit again), there’s no way that the scene with Vespa and Buddy could exist unless Vespa is also inhabiting the simulation. Every scene they choose to include is deliberate. To rule Vespa out of the plan, all it would’ve taken was likely just Vespa being her normal defensive self. Why would they include a scene with a look into that vulnerability if it didn’t matter?

Speaking of the Vespa and Buddy scene--but why would Vespa snap at Rita that badly if she’s real, you might ask. You’re right, Vespa is aggressive but not that aggressive normally, and it stood out in the few interactions we saw. In Vespa’s defense, if she is participating in this simulation, she is understandably freaked the fuck out. Vespa spends every day of her life hyperaware of what might be real and what might be fake around her. She’s most likely to figure out that something is very wrong first simply because of that trait. How much of her mind is Dark Matters manipulating? Would DM have to simulate her hallucinations, or would that come naturally along with her mind being stuck in this simulation? I imagine that for every discrepancy we’ve picked up on, she’s picked up on six--but she no longer has the explanation of it being a hallucination. I imagine it’s frustrating and terrifying for her. I’d be on edge, too!

---

Moving into our next category: “probably in the simulation”, with our only candidate Buddy.

Buddy is my question mark character. We barely interacted with her this episode. From what I can tell, most of what we saw from her seems in character, and she had some wicked fucking lines. I’m sorry, I refuse to give Dark Matters credit for the line “If you imagine all that could go wrong, all you’ve done is drag yourself through a thousand disasters. And even in the worst-case scenario, you will only need to live through one.” Because it genuinely made me feel better in real life, goddammit.

Buddy is mostly in this category for lack of evidence, both with the lack of interaction and with how Rita kind of glazed over the family meeting with her distractions. So, it’s hard to say. I’d love to hear others’ theories on Buddy’s place in this.

---

Now, we cross the threshold into those that are probably not in the simulation, or are acting incredibly suspicious: the “on thin fucking ice” category. First, Peter.

Can this bastard decide on his personality for two whole minutes so I can get a handle on the little intricacies of the new Ransom persona? No? Goddammit. It’s hard to tell how much of the way he acted was genuinely suspicious and how much of it is the mask he’s put on for Peter Ransom. While he’s adopted the old name, he hasn’t adopted his old personality, so it’s near impossible to get good points of comparison on this new view. We’ve seen inside his head with this persona, sure, but we can’t compare the way he spoke and acted in his head with how he holds himself in front of Rita--he’s always going to choose his level of vulnerability based off of the least trusted person in the room. He’s not to that place with Rita yet. He’s going to have walls and facades up that he won’t have in front of Juno, or in front of himself. He can’t make it easy on him.

But that does not mean I can’t be suspicious of him, because I am. Fuck you, Nureyev, I’m still coming for you. Mainly, I’m squinting at his reaction to Rita’s plans and his lack of reaction to her openly talking about the two of them in an established relationship. We know damn well that Peter and Juno are not at that place yet. Why, do you ask? Because I trust that Sophie and Kevin wouldn’t take that moment from us. We’ve had three and a half years of slowburn buildup on Jupeter! We would not skip from “tentatively talking and trying to learn communication through ‘’’’’’poetry’’’’’’ and shit” to “established lovey dovey relationship” without being let in on it. I doubt Peter would let comments like the ones Rita made really slide in front of Juno--after all, the last time he admitted he was in love, Juno fucking left, and I bet there’s a lot of reluctance or trauma surrounding that. Yet he let it slide anyway.

Still, because Peter is a wild card, there’s still a possibility that his non-reaction was a defense mechanism or part of the Ransom facade (after all, he had to pretend he was in better standing with Juno than he actually was at first to keep his place in the family). The most suspicious thing he did in that conversation, in my opinion, was agree not to let anyone else know about the plan. He knows damn well that he is on thin ice with everyone in the crew except for Juno and Rita. Trust is in short supply for him and keeping his position in the family is incredibly important to him, both so he can find a way to pay off his debts and so he can pursue this shaky relationship he’s started to piece back together with Juno. Yet he hops right in with barely any pushback when it comes to keeping this Incredibly Vital And Important Plan a complete secret. Plus, you know, he supposedly couldn’t even stand, yet walked all the way to the computer cave. Sure, maybe Juno carried him, but I’d fully expect something like Juno picking him up to be a joke written into the script. I feel like it was deliberately left out.

Still, the only real glimpse of Peter that Dark Matters has ever had was of Rex Glass, and Peter definitely isn’t acting like his Rex persona, so how would they really know to get his personality around the Aurinko family to where it is? I suppose that could be attributed to Rita, Vespa, and/or Buddy shaping the simulation around them.

Tl;dr on the Peter section: He’s almost definitely an NPC but nothing is certain with a man whose entire sense of self is based off of an elaborate web of lies and inconsistencies.

---

Also probably an NPC, but I’m not sure, thus on thin fucking ice: Jet.

You cannot tell me for one fucking second that Jet doesn’t know the Ruby 7 inside and out. That car is his baby. He’s torn the car apart and repaired it more than anyone else, and you’re telling me he doesn’t understand the core functions of the car--the engine, the fuel tank? No fucking way. I don’t have 3.5 paragraphs of speculation for Jet, I’m just so hung up on the fucking car thing. His personality fits well, which is the one string I’m holding onto that makes him maybe possibly an actual human being, but I feel like Dark Matters fucked up by trying to fill in the blanks on the Ruby 7. That’s where I think the issue comes from--the reason there’s a part in the Ruby that Jet doesn’t understand is because DM doesn’t know how the Ruby works, and they tried to put in what they imagined could power it or fuzz over the details. But I will cry if the Ruby was actually destroyed in the crash, there’s no recovering from that.

---

And finally, if you’ve made it this far and not left after whispering to yourself holy shit, she’s insane, she’s absolutely insane, how much does this woman talk, we have the final category: unfortunately an NPC. And holy shit, is Juno 100% not in this simulation or being almost entirely puppeted by Dark Matters.

I genuinely can’t get into all my reasoning behind Juno being a puppet here without going on forever and doubling the length of this post, and I’ve put you through so much already. But every inch of Juno is suspicious, down to his tone of voice. Look, I’m happy to see him happy. But it just seems like a jump--just like as I discussed in the Peter section with the Jupeter relationship. It feels like we skipped something, or missed something. This is my theory: Juno has been crafted based off of how Sasha Wire knew him when she saw him last. He doesn’t have reactions that are quite right to the computers, to Peter, to anyone, really. Everything felt just a little off--until he got frustrated. Then he became more realistically Juno. I think this might be because Sasha is basing a comfortable and happy Juno (the one she assumes he must be around the people on the ship, especially Peter if she knows they’re romantically involved) off of the Juno she interacted with when they were younger, which is just off in comparison to the Juno we know now. She can build a more three dimensional Juno in the situations she’s familiar with, like a bored Juno, a frustrated Juno, or an angry Juno. She’s got the one-liners down, I’ll give her that.

I’m also just in general not surprised if Sasha is just keeping him separate from the rest of them. Possibly to try and talk him out of the family, get him untangled from the Dark Matters mess? Plus, he’s incredibly perceptive, and might be considered a risk to the simulation if he was in it.

Also, the out-of-universe evidence: I am 100% convinced that the reason the episode script came out late is because it had to be edited to remove some of the directions, possibly suspicious things like “too cheery”. Specifically, I think one of Juno’s significant directions is missing. It’s hard to put exactly what kind of direction is missing into words because I don’t know anything about script writing, but I just... I have a feeling. Trust me on this. I’ve seen other people on Twitter talk about it too, I’m not the only one. I stand by it.

---

Anyway, since I want to keep my Juno-specific speculation as short as possible, that’s all, folks. If you stayed this long, genuinely I love you so much and I would give my life for you, message me or mention it in the tags that you made it all the way and maybe we could be mutuals or friends!! I love to ramble about this kind of thing. Follow me for more aimless speculation, hopefully not 2.5k words next time. If you have any questions or other stuff to discuss also mention it and I might post about it later!

Update: If you’re interested in the simulation theory, here’s the link to a post I just made laying out all my conspiracy theory evidence for it.

#holy shit i am SO SORRY this is so long #this is a lesson in being careful what you wish for #tpp #the penumbra podcast #tpp spoilers #tpp s3 #tpp s3 spoilers #s3 spoilers #tpp junoverse #simulation theory

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iamtheprotagoneil · 3 years

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when i was writing my answer for the second part of this ask from alicia, i actually came up with a fic idea but since my schedule is pretty packed for a while to come, i probably won’t be able to turn this idea into an actual fic. so to keep this from fading away into the oblivion that is my awful memory, i’mma just do what ive made this blog for, which is rambling away:

there’s this hongkong tv show i watched ages ago, but one of the subplot really stuck with me. it follows one of the main characters on his journey to his eventual greatness. in this subplot, he’s stuck in an ice cage and, every night, he’d meet a girl (circumstances are a bit icky, but let’s digress). the ice cage is so dark and freezing that, to both of them, it feels more dreamlike than reality. they even prefer to each other as ‘mộng lang’ and ‘mộng cô’ which loosely translates to ‘dream man’ and ‘dream lady’.

later on, the girl (who turns out to be a princess) hosts an event to search for a consort (although, in honesty, she’s hoping to meet her dream man again). in the event, she hides behind some thick drapes that hide her identity, and asks her suitors questions that only her dream man would be able to answer – or answer correctly, anyway. the guy only comes to the event out of obligation, rather than any actual wish to be the prince consort. however, his intention changes as his turn to go ‘meet’ the princess comes, and then the questions, and then the realization that his dream lady is just behind those drapes.

i just find it so poetic that they only meet each other through bizarre circumstances, that they don’t even know of each other’s true identity, only falling in love with each other’s voice and wits. then, after a while apart, they find each other again, through sheer coincidence, and are able to reconcile on what they’d thought was only a lost connection.

which, ahh, makes me think of an AU, of sorts, for protagoneil. perhaps, they wouldn’t meet in an ice cage, but in a prison (idk, that’s just what my mind decided on), maybe in some place where they’re held captive in rooms next to each other, a place with rules so reclusive that they never get to see each other, only a voice as proof of the other’s existence. their situation – being locked up in a room with only a small window as indication that the outside world does exist, although distant – would make their interaction with each other so surreal, as if the other is nothing more than a figment of their imagination, another sign that they’ve gone mad in this captivity.

hell, we can make this even more tragic by setting in the tenet ‘verse, post-canon. perhaps a mission went awry, and the protagonist finds himself captured by some antagonists with greedy, self-serving purposes for tenet’s inversion technology. perhaps, the protagonist thinks neil’s voice – or whoever it is that sounds so much like the neil he once met – coming through the wall is just his mind coping to the loneliness and isolation. he’s never had problems with either before, but the circumstances are different now. now he’s got a ghost living up in his head, that he’s been missing and thinking about more than he’d ever admit to another soul.

i imagine their conversations can only be held in the night, spoken so quietly – barely above a whisper – so as to not alert the guards. the secrecy drown in complete darkness truly adds another layer of surrealism to it all. they never exchange names – the protagonist bc he doesn’t want to compromise himself, and neil bc well, if the protagonist doesn’t bother to offer name then why should he?

the things they talk about are simple, although unclear on whether what is true and what is warped into something not quite a lie, but close. they talk mostly to keep themselves sane (ironic, isn’t it?), to have a little distraction from the horrid things await them when morning comes.

i imagine the protagonist would wake up one day, call for neil, but get no answer in return. he tries more times, through many nights but still, no answer. neil’s just gone, so suddenly, and the protagonist can’t decide which sense of the word is worst. eventually, after a few more days of torture, of wondering and dreading, the protagonist finds his freedom.

it’s a joined effort, from himself and the tenet team sent to rescue him. i imagine the protagonist checking the room besides, finding it vacant of any furniture and living soul. he decides there that, yeah, perhaps the time in and out of inversion, paired with the isolation and torture he was put through, has really done a number on his mental state.

then, some months later, the protagonist would meet the voice in his head once again, but this time, with confirmation that it’s been real all along.

see, neil’s been moved to another holding facility. the antagonists have wanted him to work for them; have taken interests in the research he’s been doing on a particular field of physics and decided that he would be perfect to help them in their malicious plot for greed. neil... well, i wouldn’t say they broke through him, but he did agree eventually. the torture had been too much, and he was tired – he hated having to go back to the cell they were holding him in, facing this sickening dread as he questioned his sanity.

the voice in his cell had been a great reprieve from the undue punishments on his body, but not enough to completely elevate him from the pain of it. so he “broke”. he agreed to work with the antagonists, to save himself since it was obvious that no one ever would.

and that’s how the protagonist finds him again; when he breaks down the antagonists’ second location and discovers a compliant neil seemingly working for the people that was going to put a whole lot of lives in danger for their own greedy purposes. before they can say anything to each other, though, neil’s taken out by another agent – a sleeping dart placed carefully on his neck and pushed. the protagonist never did get the agents’ identity, having lost track of them in the midst of chaos going around him.

later, when neil is put in their medical care facility, the protagonist stands outside of his room, watching him sleep through the glass window and listening to a report about his conditions. it contains everything from the moment neil went missing from his london flat (presumed dead), to the time he’s spent under the antagonists’ captivity, to the point where they found him. then, the protagonist is shown a document, including various equations and graphs and terms that mostly went through his head.

he looks to the reporting agent, expecting a better explanation. the agent points out that the equations are wrong, but so delicately that she would’ve missed it if she hadn’t thought to take another, harder look.

“even if they’d gotten with it, their plan would’ve failed. that document you’re holding in your hand ensures that.” she turns to look at neil, regarding his sleeping figure. “he might’ve given into the idea of ever getting out of their claws, but he never gave in. he never truly gave them what they’d wanted from him.”

all of that winds down to one simple fact: neil’s passed the test, and the protagonist knows what that means. the protagonist has to wait a few hours for it, though; for neil to finally wake up and have his induction into tenet. in the meantime, he sits on the couch inside neil’s room, and waits, watching neil’s eyelids flutter in sleep, and feeling sorrow/rage/frustration grip tight to his being as he thinks about things that has and will happen to neil.

when neil wakes up, the protagonist is just right there to welcome him into the afterlife. he keeps his speech short, giving neil a brief overview of his situation, but neil isn’t really listening. the protagonist’s words blur together, not because of neil’s groggy mind, but because of a single, simple realization. it hits him so hard that he just can’t keep in the lone tear falling from his eyes. the protagonist sees this, and his heart aches – remembering how it’s felt when he was the one who was lying on the bed, getting told that his entire team had failed to make it out alive – and unlike his own recruited, the protagonist tries to comfort neil with, “listen, i know it’s hard—”

but neil just cuts him off entirely, reciting a phrase he’s said before, to the man he’s thought was just a dream his tired mind made up to keep him company at the late hours of the night. it stops the protagonist right in his tracks, staring down at neil, breathing harshly through his lips because he can’t believe it. he’s thought, also, but apparently, he’s thought wrong.

“i’m glad you’re real,” neil says, as he watches the same realization he’s experienced dawn on the protagonist’s face.

the protagonist takes a moment to respond, still a little bit stunned by neil’s words. then, he takes an easy breath, relaxing his tense shoulders, smiles down at neil - small and private, something just for the too of them - and says, “me too.”

because despite everything that had happened to them both during their time in that prison, they still had each other. they were there for each other, and the protagonist gets it now - the beautiful friendship that neil had alluded to. it is quite beautiful - poetic too, maybe - for them to have found each other in such a hopeless place, then lost that connect, then reconnecting it again because fate has willed it so.

the protagonist can’t help, even more so now that they are together again, looking forward to the things they will get up to - as promised. neil’s smile, sleepy yet sincere, tells him the very same thing.

#protagoneil #its only an idea so some parts are weird and super vague and just improbable #i really want to write it but damn i can't be profound enough to write something like this; and like i said my schedule is packed rip #and i have so many wips already ahhhhhhh #gotta finish them all before i can jump on any other projects and i just love this one to much to leave it there collecting dust #so here goes #if anyone wanna hop on this please do #you'll get my eternal love in return #also kudos for anyone who knows/figures out the show i'm talking about here #it's based on a very famous novel (that i have never read before; but have heard enough of it from my dad while watching the show with him)#(fun times; maybe that's why the show (or parts of it) really sticks to me hah)#idk what to tag this #*my ramblings #my prompt #ig???#i'll figure something out later but this will be it for now

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yeetingmyfeeling · 3 years

Text

Dreaming Of You

Pretty Black Ears (Evan and Nogla)

Smut, smut, smut and Evan is neko.

Nogla was sitting in his local Starbucks, patiently waiting for his friend to arrive. It was spring, so the weather was starting to warm up. He wore cargo shorts and a loose green shirt. He had an iced latte in front of him, half gone. He sighed in impatience, where was he?

Nogla was waiting for his friend Evan, or more commonly known as VanossGaming. Evan had a bit of a.. Problem. He was a Neko. They aren’t rare, but also not common. They are slowly showing up more. Though, they tend to not be seen as real people. Usually they are seen as pets, sex toys, or an animal to put into a zoo. There are petting zoos for Neko’s! Regardless, as they are slowly becoming more world wide, they are starting to be seen as more human. Which they are.

Evan was very shy about the whole Neko thing. He had only told a few of his friends, Nogla being one of the lucky ones because they live close by. No one ever revealed his secret, because no one saw a problem with it. Nogla had been talking to Evan as of late, and had convinced him to start being more comfortable with it. Evan was unsure, but he trusted his friend. This is why Nogla sat in the Starbucks waiting.

Potato; Evan, I swear if you chickened out… I am going to skin your tail and sell the fur.

Nogla didn’t have to wait too long for a response, which he was grateful for.

NotAPussy; I didn’t! I’m just running late, sheesh. I just got here, so calm down.

True to Evan’s word, he soon walked in a few minutes after he texted. Nogla frowned at his appearance. He was wearing jeans and a long sweater, as well as a beanie. Nogla sighed and shook his head. He was still hiding.

Evan quickly walked in, ducking his head. He looked up only for a second to find Nogla. Once he did he quickly went and sat down opposite of him. He slowly looked up and offered a shy smile. Nogla just shook his head. Evan sighed and tugged his beanie further down.

“Evan, buddy, come on,” Nogla frowned. “We talked about this. You said you’d let your ears and tail show today. I don’t see that happening.”

Evan just looked down at the table. His ears were pressed down against his head, and his tail curled up in his jeans. It was anything but comfortable. But, he was scared. “Nogla! You know why..”

Nogla just shook his head. “Do you want anything to drink and eat?” Evan nodded. “Hot chocolate and blueberry muffin?” Another nod. Nogla stood up and went to the counter. He ordered the food, chatting with the waitress for a bit. She gave him a smile as he went back to the table.

At the table, Evan had not moved. Except for leaning over to steal a sip from Nogla’s iced latte, making the taller slap the Neko’s hand. “Ev, can I ask a favour?” Evan slowly looked back up as he rubbed his hand. “I just bought you your drink and muffin, the least you could do to pay me back is let them free?”

“You’re a bitch,” Evan glared with a huff. Though, it was reasonable, even if it made him uncomfortable. He slid the beanie off first, and his ears stuck up. They twitched, shaking strands of hair off of them. He sat up slightly and let his tail uncurl, sticking out from the top of his jeans waistband. He sat back down, holding the beanie in his lap.

The waitress came over, putting the drink and muffin in front of Evan. She gave the Neko a sweet smile then left. Evan grabbed his mug of hot chocolate and raised it to his lips, taking a sip. He quickly put it down and fanned his mouth.

People in the Starbucks were looking at the Neko. Their eyes tailing over the large, fluffy black ears, and the thick, fluffy black tail that just hovered over the ground. Evan knew people were staring, and his face burned bright red as he slowly lowered his hands from his mouth.

Looking up at Nogla, Evan blushed more from the smile the Irish male had. Nogla laughed lightly. “Can I touch them?” He asked, gesturing to the cute ears. Evan just nodded slowly. So, Nogla leaned over and gently started to scratch at the soft fur. He heard a light hum, and grinned when he realized Evan was starting to purr. He swiped his pinkie over the soft pink area of the ear, making it flicker.

“What’s it like being a neko?”

Evan slowly frowned. He pulled the hot chocolate closer to him and put in one of the marshmallows. He grabbed the other one, putting it in his mouth. After he swallowed, he started talking.

“Horrible, Nogla. I have to deal with people staring at me all the time. They always want to pet me and touch my ears and tail. Always asking questions. They want my body. Some to keep, some for their children, some to sell, some for sex. Especially creepy old men, they are the worst. Not to mention I still hardly get treated like I’m a human being. I get treated like a feral cat!

“That’s just dealing with people, I have my own issues. You know how.. Fuck. So, you know how with animals, biological females will go into a heat of sorts? For female cats, it happens every few months. Well uh, due to being a Neko, sometimes that messes with stuff a bit. So, I go into heat every few months. It is the worst..”

Nogla blinked slowly, just looking at Evan. He slowly nodded his head as he listened. “So, for a few days every few months you need a good fucking?” Evan whacked his arm. “Ow! Sorry!” Nogla laughed.

Evan huffed and went back to his hot chocolate. It had cooled down by now, so he started to drink it. Nogla kept asking questions, which Evan didn’t too much mind because, well, it was Nogla. Evan’s always had a soft spot for the guy.

They heard footsteps coming over, and looked to see a mother with her young daughter. Evan immediately panicked and looked at Nogla with wide eyes. The Irishman just offered a comforting smile. The mother smiled at them and the daughter just stared at Evan with wide eyes.

“Could my daughter please pet your cat?” The mother asked Nogla. “Please, she’ll be gentle.”

“He-He’s not my cat..” Nogla frowned. “He’s my friend-”

The mother chuckled. “Yes dear, animals are our friends. But could she please pet your cat?”

“He’s a human being!” Nogla exclaimed, his eyes wide. “Come on Ev, let’s go.” Nogla stood up. Evan stood up quickly as well. He tugged the beanie back over his head then grabbed his muffin. Nogla stormed out of Starbucks, Evan following after.

“I didn’t get to finish my hot chocolate..” Evan mumbled as he took a bite out of his muffin. Nogla pet his head.

“Want to come over? I’ll make you a hot chocolate and we can watch a movie.”

~~~~~

The two now sat on Nogla’s couch. Nogla sat on one end, Evan snuggled up with a blanket on the other. The Avengers was playing on the TV, both boys not paying much attention. Nogla had finished his hot chocolate, but Evan was still slowly sipping at his.

They didn’t talk about the incident in the cafe, nor talk about Evan being a Neko. He did let his ears and tail free once in the house, which made Nogla happy.

It was halfway through the movie, and Nogla noticed Evan put his empty mug down then yawn loudly. He raised an eyebrow at the Asian male who just rubbed his eye tiredly.

“Kitty want a nap?” Nogla teased with a smirk, making Evan put. Nogla just laughed. “It’s fine dude, I’ll wake you up before it gets too late.”

Evan just nodded. He slowly lay down, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. The top of his head pressed against Nogla’s thigh, making the Irishman chuckle. Within minutes, Nogla heard gentle breathing from the Neko, telling him the boy was asleep. He couldn't help it when his own eyes closed, and his head slipped to rest on the back of the couch.

Evan had no idea how long he slept for, all he knew was when he woke up he was warm. His skin was on fire, his heavy clothes clinging to his sweaty body. He whined, wiggling around. That’s when he felt it. There were cramps in his stomach, and he was painfully hard, as well as slick dripping down the inside of his thigh. He huffed, only to breathe in the scent of the man next to him.

Evan’s mind left him in those few seconds, completely consumed by lust. He let out a gasp as he scrambled to get up. He looked over at Nogla, the tall Irish male fast asleep. Evan paid no mind as he crawled onto the pale man's lap. He gripped his shoulder and positioned his body over one of his thighs.

He slowly rolled his hips down, gasping loudly. He did it again, and again, until he was grinding against Nogla’s thigh like a bitch in heat. Which is exactly what he was.

Nogla slowly woke up, his eyes fluttering open. “Ev-an?” He croaked in confusion. His eyes widened seeing the horny Neko on his lap, and he was much more awake. “Evan! What are you doing?”

“Nogla..” Evan whined, burying his face in Nogla’s neck. “It hurts so much!” He tightened his grip on the man's shoulders as his hips quickened.

The Irishmen didn’t know what to do, so just pushed his thigh up against Evan’s crotch. This earned him a squeak, making him smirk. So he slowly started rubbing his thigh against the Neko, while Evan’s pace was much quicker.

Heavy moans fell from the tops mouth, his eyes rolled back in his head. His thighs started to shake, and his movements somehow got even faster. “Yes… yes.. Oh go- YES!” Evan screamed out. His hips stuttered and he came in his pants. He whimpered, clinging to Nogla.

Nogla just held the boys hips, his eyes wide in confusion. He slowly slid his hands under Evan’s shirt, feeling the sweaty and shaking body. Evan seemed to be calmer now, just breathing in the youngers scent.

“So, Ev,” Nogla spoke softly, hoping not to scare the boy. “Can you tell me what just happened?”

“I’m in heat,” Evan mumbled lazily. “I’m sorry.. You should go while I have the last grips on my sanity.”

Nogla shook his head. “I’m going to stay, and help you. Okay?” Evan opened his mouth to object, but Nogla shushed him. “I’m staying.”

“Then fuck me.”

Nogla did not waste a second to pull Evan’s shirt over his head, then taking off his own. He picked up the Neko, and felt the tail wrap around his wrist. He gave it a tug, hearing a loud moan. He smirked, the knowledge will be very useful later.

He carried Evan all the way to his bedroom, placing him down on the bed. Evan spread his legs out, gazing up at Nogla, his eyes wide with lust. Nogla was quick to shove off his pants and boxers, then the same to Evan.

He started to kiss and nip up the neko’s legs, grazing his teeth along Evan’s inner thighs. The boy whined, his thighs shaking. Nogla eventually got to EVan’s crotch, starting to kiss around the area.

Evan let out a kiss. “Piss off with the foreplay!” He whined. “Just fuck me!”

Nogla barked out a laugh. He sat up and Evan wrapped his legs around the Irishman’s hips, pulling him closer. Nogla pumped himself and lined up. He raised an eyebrow at the neko, who just glared at him, so he pushed all the way in.

Evan let out a gasp, his head tilting back. “Nog-Nogla!” He whined out. “Please.. Please..”

Slowly, Nogla started to thrust in and out, making his large cock drag along Evan’s tight walls. The neko gripped the sheets below him, his mouth hanging open. Nogla pulled out once, and then slammed back in. Evan squealed. Nogla slowly picked up his pace, now slamming into Evan.

With every slam, Evan lets out screams and squeals, moaning in pleasure. He arched his back and moved his hand down, starting to pump himself in time with Nogla’s thrusts. Nogla was letting out his own grunts, his head hanging.

Evan was already so wet, and there was slick splattering with every thrust. Nogla gripped Evan’s hips, moving his own merciscley. Evan moved his hand quickly, swiping his thumb over his tip.

“Nogla! Nogla!” Evan moaned out, throwing his head back. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!”

Nogla slammed his hips in, not being able to keep up with his own harsh pace. Soon, with a few more pumps, Evan was cumming all over his chest. He let out a scream of Nogla’s name. He panted, his tongue sticking out. This didn’t deter Nogla, as he kept thrusting.

Evan started to get hard again and Nogla kept thrusting. He grabbed the bottom of his knees, pulling his legs up higher. Nogla took this to his advantage so slam into Evan’s prostate, feeling his tip squish.

“Holy shit Evan..” Nogla breathed out. He was getting closer to his orgasm, causing his thrusts to start to become sloppy. He kept pushing. Evan was starting to bounce himself on Nogla’s cock.

Nogla leaned down, connecting their lips in a sloppy kiss. Evan gasped into the elders mouth, moaning loudly. They tangled their lips together, spit going everywhere. After a few more harsh thrusts, Nogla shot inside Evan with a loud moan of his name. Evan arched and let out a loud moan of his own, cumming once again.

Nogla slowly pulled out, but Evan gripped his back, pulling him back. Nogla grunted and looked at the needy neko. “Cockwarm me..” Evan whimpered.

“Let’s get comfortable first,” Nogla pulled out. The two got under the covers and got comfortable. Nogla spooned Evan and slowly slipped back in, making the neko hum in pleasure. Soon they fell asleep.

~~~~~

When Evan woke up again, he pouted as he noticed Nogla had slipped out, but whined he felt so painfully hard. He sighed and wiggled on to his stomach, starting to thrust his hips into the mattress. He would have kept going, but he suddenly felt a slap to his ass, making him gasp.

He rolled over and looked up at Nogla with a frown. “Nogla..?” He didn’t get to say much more, as two fingers were suddenly thrust inside him. He gasped and moaned. “Nogla!”

Nogla tiredly thrust his fingers in and out, rubbing along his walls, making the neko whine and whimper. He soon pulled his fingers out, making Evan meow. Nogla chuckled. “That’s adorable.”

“Come on, I’ve got a plan,” Nogla gets up and goes to his closet, starting to pull on some clothes. Evan whined from the bed.

“Nogla! I’m.. I’m still horny..” Nogla chuckled and nodded. Evan sat up slowly, wincing slightly.

“Get up, neko,” Nogla smirked. “I’m taking us out, okay? Come pick some clothes.”

Evan reluctantly got up and went to the closet. He grabbed some of Nogla’s clothes, pulling them on despite being large for his frame. He went to hide his tail and ears, only for his hand to be slapped. He pouted and rubbed the assaulted skin.

“No hiding,” Nogla said determinedly. Evan opened his mouth to say something but the Irishmen held out a finger. “No.” Evan pouted.

They finished getting ready and walked out of the house. They got in Nogla’s car, and the tall male started driving them. He drove them through town. Evan sat there, needy and wiggling in his seat. Soon Nogla parked, making Evan lookup. His eyes widened when he saw they were at a pet store.

Nogla turned off the car and got out. Evan got out as well and quietly followed after Nogla. Nogla moved back, grabbing Evan’s hand. The neko blushed darkly. They walked into the shop, the cashier smiling at them.

Nogla led them through the isles. He grabbed a few things, those being some bowls and cat nip. He went to the leash and collars, grabbing a simple black leash, then a pink collar with ‘PRINCESS’ on it. Evan followed, now holding Nogla’s arm with two hands.

Nogla continued to lead them through the store. Evan suddenly stopped when in the toy section and started pointing at something. Nogla followed his finger and saw a cute little mouse, around the size of his palm. He took it off the shelf and held it up for Evan. Evan nodded quickly.

He let go of Nogla’s arm for a moment to run to the aisle over. He grabbed a pretty pink blanket that would just barely cover his body. Nogla agreed to buy it.

They went to the counter with their items, putting them down and the cashier started to scan. She looked up at the two with a smile. “Are you guys getting your first cat?” She asked sweetly. “Oh, I bet she’s going to be spoiled rotten!”

Evan blushed while Nogla smirked. “Oh no, these aren’t for that kind of cat,” He moved his hand up to flick one of Evan’s ears, making it flicker in annoyance. “They are for him,” The cashier's face turned red, and Evan hid his face in Nogla’s arm. She continued to scan the items, then put them in a bag and handed it to Nogla. Nogla smiled in thanks and walked them out.

As they got to the car, Nogla grabbed the collar. He leaned over to latch it on to Evan. Evan blushed heavily, but allowed Nogla to do what he wanted. Nogla made sure the collar wasn’t too tight then nodded in approval.

Nogla drove off again, and drove them to a pet friendly restaurant, it was also hybrid friendly. Once there, Nogla grabbed the bowls and got out. He went around to Evan's side and grabbed the leash, clipping it on to Evan’s collar. Evan slowly got out of the car, and they walked into the restaurant.

A waitress there led them to a small booth, where they sat opposite of each other. She placed menus down, poured them some water, then left with promises to come back. After she left, Nogla shook his head and yanked on the leash. “Animal’s eat on the floor.”

Evan’s mouth slowly opened, and his ears dropped. “Wh-What…? You can’t be serious..”

“Oh, I am,” Nogla smirked. “Now get of the fucking floor, pussy.”

Evan whimpered but slowly lowered himself to the floor. Nogla nodded approvingly and placed the two bowls down. He poured the water from the glass into one of the bowls. “Drink,” Evan obediently lent forward, starting to lap up the water.

The waitress walked back over, and she blushed slightly when she saw Evan. She hummed, turning to face Nogla with a smile. “WHat will you be getting today sir?”

“Could I please have the pasta carbonara,” Nogla spoke as his eyes glazed over the menu. He smiled at the waitress. “And a salmon for him, but could you make the cook put it in his bowl please?”

The waitress nodded and leaned down, picking up the empty bowl. She left with the order and the bowl, going to the kitchen. Evan sat back on his knees, putting his hands on the floor in front of him. He looked up at Nogla.

Nogla smiled and leaned over, starting to pet the top of Evan’s head. He scratched his ears, making him purr. “Such a good kitty,” Nogla praised.

Ten minutes later, the waitress walked back. She placed the bowl of carbonara down in front of Nogla, and the salmon in front of Evan. She smiled and walked away, leaving them to eat.

Evan glared at the bowl, only to suddenly have a foot on his head. Nogla pushed Evan’s head down, pushing him to the bowl. Evan frowned but began eating. This made Nogla click his tongue in content and start eating his own food.

They ate in relative silence, Nogla occasionally looking down at Evan. Sometimes teasing the needy neko. Pulling on his tail, or pushing on certain spots that made him squeak. He could see the slick leaking through his pants, making him chuckle. Nogla even started fingering the youngers ear at one point.

After awhile, Nogla stood up, needing to use the restroom. He gave Evan a pointed look. “You stay here and be good, or you’ll be in trouble.”

“Yes master!” Evan nodded his head, wanting to be a good pet for his friend. He couldn't even say that anymore, it didn’t sound right. So Nogla went to the bathroom, leaving Evan to sit and eat his food.

It didn’t take long until a creepy older man approached the vulnerable neko. Neko was too distracted by his meal to notice, assuming it was a worker for the non recognizable scent. Only, he let out a squeal when his tail was pulled, which soon turned into a moan. He looked behind his shoulder, eyes widening when he noticed the strange man.

He went to say something, but the man had grabbed a handful of his ear, making him whimper. “Don’t..” He whined, not being able to struggle. The man pressed his crotch against Evan’s ass, making the needy boy fight the need to submit.

It didn’t last for long, as suddenly there was a bottle of water being poured over the two. Evan gasped again and managed to scramble away from the man. He looked up, seeing Nogla with a very cross expression. Nogla gripped the bottle and hit the man over the head, making Evan’s eyes widen.

Nogla growled. The waitress from earlier rushed over and grabbed their food left. “Bags?” Nogla nodded so she rushed away.

Nogla grabbed the leash and yanked Evan up. The man had run off. Nogla pulled their faces close together, glaring at him. He snarled. “Were you getting turned on by that man?” Evan shook his head quickly, panicked. “Don’t fucking lie, feral.”

“Yes…” Evan whimpered. Nogla wrapped the leash around his wrist. He threw more than enough money on their table. The lady walked out with two containers and the bowls. Nogla grabbed them then stormed out.

He unlocked the car and Evan jumped in quickly. Nogla threw the things in the bag then got in his seat, starting to drive back to his home.

In his anxiousness, Evan pulled out the mouse from earlier. He slowly raised it, and pressed it to Nogla’s cheek. “Mousy is kissing you..”

Nogla’s angry demeanor dropped instantly, a smile replacing his cross features. “Mousy?”

Evan nodded happily. “Mousy!”

The ride continued in relative calmness. Nogla was focusing on the roa, occasionally checking on Evan. Said neko boy was just playing around with the mouse. He kept watching Nogle check on him, and once he had done the next checkup and looked back to the road, Evan pressed the toy against his crotch.

He swallowed away a gasp as he started to roll his hips against the toy, while also pressing it down. He started to speed up, getting more and more needy. He got closer and closer, starting to gasp and whine. Nogla glanced over, looking back to the road, but his eyes snapped back. “Evan!”

Evan jumped and pressed the toy down, snapping his legs shut. Nogla shook his head, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. “Poor mousy!”

“I couldn’t help it!” Evan whimpered. “I need to cum so bad, I need to be filled.”

Nogla sighed. “Wait, pet.”

“Yes master..” Evan whimpered. He took mousy away, now holding him on one of his knees. He did feel bad for the poor toy, but he was so needy.

It wasn’t long till they were back home, and Nogla was dragging Evan inside his house via the leash, the bag of items in his other hand. Once inside, he dragged the neko up to his bedroom. He unclipped the leash and threw that as well as the bag into the corner of the room. “Strip. On your knees.”

Evan was quick to respond. He kicked off his pants and boxers in one, after he had taken his shoes and socks off. He dropped to his knees and pulled his shirt over his head, ruffling up his hair. He sat there in patience.

Nogla watched the neko strip in a rush. As he did, he pushed his own pants and boxers off. He didn’t bother much with his shirt, just pulling it over his head. He stood to Evan’s right and started fingering one of his ears, making it twitch violently.

“Eyes closed,” Evan closed his eyes, making a noise of confusion. “Now, take a deep breath..” Evan did as told, wanting to listen to his master. So he took a deep breath in. As he did, Nogla started to press himself into Evan’s ear.

Evan made a noise, and his eyes opened. “I said close!” Nogla shouted, making Evan close them again with a whimper. Nogla continued to push all the way in until he was flush. He glanced down at Evan and smirked. The boy had opened his eyes again, only to make them roll back in his head. His tongue was poking out, drool pooling down it.

Nogla slowly started to thrust, making Evan whine. Nogla didn’t care about this as he kept up his slow pace of thrusting. He eventually started to speed up, making Evan start to pant. Nogla kept going, his hands gripped the back and other side of the nekos head.

Nogla started to groan, moaning out Evan’s name. The tightness of the ear made his eyes flutter shut and he started to move his hips faster. “Oh this is so good..” Nogla moaned out.

Evan panted, letting out little whimpers. “Master it feels weird!”

Nogla just laughed. He moved faster, pounding into Evan’s ear. He grunted as he felt the heat build up in the pit of his stomach. Soon enough, he shot into Evan’s ear. Due to the tight canal, most of it shot back out at him, or started dripping down.

Evan made a noise and fell forward numbly. Nogle crouched, catching the boy. He rubbed his back with a smirk. Evan just babbled, his brain too full of cum. So Nogla picked up the neko and placed him on the bed. He got behind him, wrapping his arms around him. Together, they fell asleep, with no heat to wake up to.

#brian hanby #daithi de nogla #daithi de terroriser #daithi de wildcat #i am wildcat #banana bus squad #h2odelirious #tyler wine #abo #alpha beta omega #evan fong #vanossgaming

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soyforramen · 4 years

Text

Anyways, here’s part one Sunday:

It had been seven long years away from the only home he’d ever known. Away from the heartache and death and depravity. Seven years in the real world, where parents didn’t try and kill their kids; where drugs weren’t rampant on the streets; where people didn’t pretend like their small town hadn’t descended into corruption years ago. Seven years to mend and try to heal from the scars this place had carved out of his flesh.

Archie looked through the windshield at the sun clawing through the sky, steam rising from the river below to cover Sweetwater Bridge in an ominous fog. He wanted to turn back, put his back to this hell hole of a town. After everything they’d been through, after all the pain, grief, and heartache, they both swore they’d never go back. Riverdale was no longer theirs, if it ever had been. It’s innocence had long been dragged down under the dark, rushing currents, taking their youth with it.

But, as Romeo Void always said, never say never.

He glanced over at Betty, still curled up in the passenger seat asleep, and wondered. What would have happened all those years ago if he had said yes to her? If he’d lied, and said he loved her the same, would they have ended up like his parents? Separated by half a country, filled with bittersweet memories and regrets of what they could have been? Or would they have turned into her parents, forcing a smile, married with kids and miserable, the perfect couple to everyone but themselves?

It didn’t matter. Not really. One what if lead to a thousand, each a domino lined up against the others, ready to topple a mountain with a simple touch.

They were here now. Together. And that’s the only thing that could matter right now.

Archie pulled the visor down to block out the sun and turned the old Ford’s engine over - newly rebuilt by his traveling companion - and pulled onto the old wooden bridge.

Back to where they’d started.

It was strange to see one’s childhood, once so precious and simple, changed so completely. The old Southside High was now littered with shops selling cheap tourist t-shirts and even cheaper urban legends. Sunnyside Park had been forgotten altogether, now nothing more than a run down jungle of rust and flora, a faded ‘For Sale’ sign crying out for salvation. And they gym, the one he’d risked his life -

- and those kids’ - god he’d been so stupid - nothing had been worth that, especially not his pride what had he -

- had been converted to a used car lot, Reggie’s face beaming out from an overly large billboard with blinding veneers and thinning hair.

Pop’s was the only thing that hadn’t changed, its neon light guiding him home, still a beacon to wayward travelers in need of a place to call home. Wary of the woman asleep beside him, Archie kept driving. His weren’t the only memories he had to be careful of disturbing. This return was hard on the both of them -

- Memories can take you back, home sweet home, You can never go home anymore -

- a necessary strain on the future of their relationship. They’d stayed up for months arguing about it, voices raised and doors slammed. She claimed it was necessary for her future; he disavowed the past in that place. They’d both lost their parents; their youth; their innocence; their sanity there. Neither wanted to admit how badly they needed to stay away.

He didn’t want to admit how badly he needed to return.

It didn’t matter, in the end. He knew it was a fight he’d end up losing. A twenty round TKO with determination like hers. Nothing could dissuade her from going; nothing could keep him from going with her. Because it was Betty who was asking him. Betty his lifelong friend; his soulmate; his other half. The one person who knew him inside and out. He’d only ever told her no once in his life, and it had broken both their hearts so badly it had taken half a decade to heal.

Kintsugi, she told him when they’d come back together again. Mending things with gold so the scars never went away. Instead, they were made more beautiful by having survived the break.

“That’s the last of it,” Archie said, his breath coming quick.

With a clang, he set down the last box - a mishmash of utensils, pots, and pans. They’d lived minimally for so long it was routine to load everything up into the bed of the Ford. Military transfers had convinced Archie he really only needed a change of close, a pen, and a piece of paper to make it through. Betty, though, had taken the opposite tack and had her entire lifestyle planned out to the minute.

“The furniture should be dropped off tomorrow afternoon, if we’re lucky.” He stretched his arms up to hang his hands on the doorframe and watched as she moved to the newest box.

“Portland all over again,” Betty said.

She cut into the packing tape, her hands constantly on the move. Nesting, she’d once called it. Settling into a new space and making it hers as quickly as possible. Every where else, she’d been able to relax upon arriving. But here every movement held a nervous, frayed energy. He worried what would happen when she ran out of things to do.

Betty had been quiet since yesterday, refusing to leave the house until everything was settled. Distracted by unpacking she barely acknowledged him. Every call was sent to voicemail, each text left on read. He’d had to prompt her throughout the day to eat.

Ever since they’d arrived, her eyes had been haunted, trapped in the past. No doubt reliving every moment and analyzing what she could have done differently.

Archie reached for her when she passed him. Betty went rigid, but relaxed as he smoothed down the stray hairs that had come loose from her ponytail. They’d talked about this. About how easily she got stuck in the eddies of memories, her streams of thoughts unable to sweep her back to the present. It was how her mind worked, the lines of thought etched deep into the ground with time and practice. Just as he had to focus on the present to make it through, she had to relive the past to move to the future.

She slipped her arms around him, her fingers worrying at the fabric. In times like these she likened him to her anchor in the storm. Archie never saw himself as that; she was too strong to ever really need anyone. Time had proven that.

“Pop’s for dinner?”

Betty shook her head, her hair tickling his nose. “I can’t. Not yet.”

He kissed her on the forehead and they rocked together a moment, a primitive soothing gesture for the both of them.

“But I could do with take out.”

For all the things that had changed, at least the bell above Pop’s door was still there. Everything else - the formica tables, the jukebox, the old Polaroid's - had all disappeared, replaced by the same modern kitsch found in every other family restaurant across the country.

“Eating in?”

Archie turned to find a young woman standing in front of him, an apron around her hips. She was dressed all in black, with nothing to distinguish her from her patrons. It was dizzying, this old imposed on the new.

- the more things change, the more they stay the same, we shouldn’t have come, this isn’t for us -

“Picking up, for Andrews.”

She nodded and turned to the line of plastic bags behind her as soft jazz played above him.

First days were always hard. Never knowing what to expect, Archie never felt as if he was enough. That he’d fooled everyone into thinking he was capable enough to do the job. Once push came to shove, though, he’d trip over his own feet and show the world just how useless he really was. A disappointment to the end.

The first day of school - the iguana got loose and wrecked the cafeteria. The first day of football - half the team were sent home with broken bones. The first day of training camp - half the squad were lost in the woods. The first day out in the field -

- oh god raj, the blood, i’m so sorry, it should have been me, where’s the medic, the blood, stop th-

“Andrews?”

Archie blinked the sun out of his eyes, back in front of the fire station. Its sign gleamed bright in the morning sun, washing away the dark memories. Forcing a grin, he turned only for his grin to blossom into a genuine smile.

“Mad Dog?”

They embraced, arms tight around each other, laughing, saying everything words never could. Archie had lost touch with almost everyone but Betty after high school, friends drifting away on the currents of time and distance. Every now and then he’d hear about weddings and babies, deaths and divorces. Each a tragedy in their own way, celebrations he’d never know of.

He’d never truly regretted any of them, at least not until Munroe was in front of him again.

“Man, I haven’t heard that name in years,” Munroe said. He stepped back, hands still clasped around Archie’s shoulders. “What graces you upon my door? Don’t tell me you remembered about that twenty dollars I owe you. Last I heard you were slumming it up in San Francisco.”

Archie laughed at the (in)accuracy of it. “Riverdale was in need of a new fire captain, and for some reason Sheriff Keller thought of me.”

“Chief Keller, Red,” Munroe said with wink. “Old man gets testy when you forget. Maybe seeing the prodigal son return will lighten his mood a bit.”

The warm feeling of home, the one he’d almost forgotten entirely, returned easily, a rising tide that almost made this trip worth it. Archie threw an arm around Munroe’s shoulders as they walked into the firehouse.

“Good day at work?” Betty asked.

She handed him a bowl of ice cream - Neopolitan - and tucked herself against his side, her own half-eaten pint of strawberry ice cream in her other hand. In return he tucked an old knitted throw around them and turned the tv volume down.

“Yeah, really good actually. You?”

Betty dug out a chuck of ice cream too big for the spoon, and bit half of it.

“That bad?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled through the mouthful.

“No questions?”

She shook her head. “No questions.”

The sounds of a muted space battle filled the silence around them. Sometime between when the movie ended and the next began, Betty fell asleep against him, her empty ice cream carton tucked against her side like a teddy bear. It was a moment of normalcy he’d been afraid to lose. Domesticity in all its comforts.

He knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t, not here. Normal was a smokescreen, ebbing and flowing among the darkness that fueled this town. Solving one small case couldn’t fix that. They both knew that.

But it was nice to pretend it could.

A few minutes past midnight, Archie cradled Betty into his arms and took her to bed. When he knew she was settled, he shut the door behind him and went to his own room.

“No. Fuckin’. Way,” one of the probationaries said, his mouth hanging wide. “You two were vigilantes? Like The Red Circle?”

Archie blushed and looked away, uncomfortable with how close he was. Munroe, though, smiled, revealing in the shock and awe he could procure.

“And this one,” he jerked his thumb at Archie, “wore spandez.”

“We both wore spandex,” Archie reminded him.

“You realize that’s worse, right?” Chief Keller, nee Sheriff Keller, said as he walked into the break room.

A half-dozen chairs hit the floor at once as the probates stood quickly. A snicker cut through and soon the whole room was cracking up. Archie smiled, not knowing what else to do other than scrum under all this attention. He’d been stupid enough -

- so stupid, why hadn’t anyone stopped him, he was just a kid, jesus they were all kids, what the hel-

- and the last thing he wanted to be remembered for was wearing spandex.

“Alright, now that we’ve broken in the new guy,” Keller said. He poured himself a cup of coffee, taking his time to scrutinize the room. “Sanchez, Gilbert, Edison. You’re on rotation for fire safety training at the school. Pickens, Cho - Mrs. Green need help with that damned ramp of hers. If I have to listen one more time to how she can’t get her wheelchair over those rotten out boards I’m giving her your personal numbers. Andrews, Munroe - Sheriff wants somebody to look over a small fire at the old Twilight. Probably nothing, but they need a stamp of approval for an insurance payout.”

Groans came from the younger firefighters, but they didn’t hesitate to get a move on. In less than a minute the break room had emptied, leaving Munroe and Archie to bring up the rear.

“Just like the gym, huh?” Munroe asked as they followed Cho into the parking lot.

“Only better trained,” Archie replied.

Munroe unlocked an old white suburban, R.F.D. written along the side in bright red and gold letters. On their way to the Twilight, Munroe pointed out the little things that had happened in Archie’s absence - new residents, car accidents; minor high school pranks, major vandalism; and one case of a loose alpaca. All small town quirks that hit Archie with a sudden homesickness.

Despite all the bad that had taken root here, it seemed there was still life in this town.

Munroe parked near the old projection booth, now nothing more than a few loose boards held up by a decade of graffiti. He reached behind the seat and pulled out a pair of boxing gloves.

“One more for old time’s sake?”

Archie took them from him, the oily, cracked leather like old friends. On the cuff was the El Royale logo, faded almost to nothing in some places. A choking sensation rose up in his throat and he had to swallow hard. Of all the things to keep, and Munroe had unknowingly chosen the only thing from Riverdale Archie still held close to his heart.

“You’re on.”

“I saw him yesterday,” Betty mumbled when Archie woke up that Saturday. “He had a woman with him.”

She spun a spoon through her soggy Cheerios, eyes dark and downcast. From the sweatshirt and slacks she worse Archie knew it had been another all-nighter. Betty also had an obsessive drive when it came to work, but this was going too far. Not for the first time he wondered whether her insistence on taking this case was a way to gain experience and attention, or whether it was just another way for her to prove - to herself or to him - that she was over it. Over them.

Over that two syllable word that hadn’t been spoken in years.

It cut deep to see her like this. And Archie didn’t know if he could pick her up off the floor again, if he’d be able to put together all those pieces that had shattered years ago. He’d lost so many pieces, filled her with so much gold, that he was afraid that there wouldn’t be enough to keep her together for a second time.

“When was the last time you slept?”

She shrugged and dipped the spoon back into her milk. Like a child Betty lifted it up only to watch it rain down again.

Archie sighed and picked up the coffee pot. He’d been against her going into the FBI from the start, and he’d said as much when she’d been accepted into the Academy. She had her own trauma to deal with. And working on some of the worst cases - kidnappings, murders, rapes - was too close to reality for her.

That was a lesson he’d learned the hard way.

But this was Betty, after all, the most self-assured, stubborn person he knew, determined to prove she was stronger than the white-noise of the past, desperate to push memories just past the edge of consciousness. And now they were back in this place tinted by the ghosts of their past.

“Betty -“

“I’m fine, Archie,” she snapped.

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. The last thing either of them needed was another blow-up.

“Look, the cookout’s today. How about we eat junk food and watch that awful movie channel you like so much?”

Betty frowned, her lip pursed in a way he knew he’d won. At least it wasn’t that awful, plastic smile of hers, the one she’d spent hours perfecting in the mirror when they were eight.

“Fine, but only if you get wontons and dumplings.”

“And who is this lovely lady?” Cho asked.

Betty turned, the picture of suburban perfection she’d been raised to be, and held out her hand. “Betty Cooper.”

Cho’s eyebrows lifted in delight and they bowed over her hand to kiss it. “Teddy Cho, at your service.”

Their eyes met Archie’s, and he shook his head at the unasked question. Betty bit her lip at the exchange, tickled at Cho’s obvious interest. With a grin, Cho lead her towards the rest of the probates, their arms linked together as he tried out one of his new jokes on her.

Munroe handed Archie a cold beer as he walked up. “The All-American couple. You two are a big hit tonight.”

Archie shot him a confused look, and Munroe nodded towards Betty.

“No, we’re not…” Archie stammered, finally realizing how it looked when they showed up together. “That’s….”

How did one explain what they were? Friends, more-than-friends-but-less-than, family, what-if’s, drunk and lonely nights spend on the sofa, thank-god-we-never-did,-wouldn’t-that-be-so-weird?

“Funny, I would have pegged the two of you as a couple.”

“You and a bunch of other people. But it’s not for us.”

Archie took a sip of his beer, a cool relief from the lingering hot summer sun. The sounds of the barbecue brought back memories of his own childhood, memories of better times when his family wasn’t broken, when his father…

- mr. andrews, regardless of what you continue to think, none of what happened to your father was your fau-

Neighborhood cookouts were kids played long after dark, and dads drank beer and shot the shit about football while moms talked small town politics. It would be nice to go back to this, he realized with a start. Only this time he was part of the older group, a single man in a swathe of couples enjoying their lives for one more day before the return of the inevitable Monday morning grind.

“So, got a girl back home?” Munroe asked. He sat down in one of the lawn chairs and kicked his feet up, the picture of American prosperity. “You keep checking that phone a lot while we’re at the station. I just figured out it was Betty, but now…”

Archie shook his head and settled in on the grass. “Nah, nothing like that. Last time I dated anyone was almost a year ago, and he’s been married almost two months now.”

Munroe raised an eyebrow, a question that could easily be side stepped, ignored as nothing more than a muscular tic. After all, it had once been an El Royal running joke that Archie was the Casanova of the group, the one who could jump from one woman to the next without a beat between. Munroe especially had given him the hardest time about it, constantly throwing out bad pickup lines for Archie to rate. It was that strange sort of camaraderie only a group of men, posturing and posing, their masculinity fragile at that age, that needed to be reassured in their ability to pickup barbells and broads.

But Archie had never been uncomfortable with Munroe. He’d always been the most easy going, non-judgemental man he’d ever met. And besides, he owed him a sort of honesty, now that they relied on each other in the grips of life and death.

“Jake wanted kids, marriage, the whole thing. Only once we dated for three years, he realized he wanted it with someone else.”

Munroe let out a whistle. “Harsh.

Archie nodded. They finished their beers in silence, moving onto the next one with talk about college rankings and score spreads, the mood still light between them.

“So…”

Betty let the words hang in the air, that gleam of curiosity in her eye. Archie ignored her and turned onto Old Ash Road, the radio crooning an old country ballad about love, loss, and whiskey. He made the mistake of glancing over at her and she fluttered her eyelashes in expectation.

“So?”

“You and Munroe seemed pretty cozy.”

“You and Cho seemed pretty cozy too,” he shot back.

Betty’s lips pursed and she settled back into her seat with a pout. “I was being nice since you didn’t seem too keen on hanging out with your coworkers.”

“I hung out with them. Hahn and I played cornhole for an hour with Roxie and -“

“Munroe.”

Betty echoed him with a pointed look.

“It’s been over a year, don’t you think you should -“

Archie shook his head. “We agreed. We’re here as long as you’re working on the case. No roots.”

“Yeah, but -“

“We’re friends, and it’s going to stay that way.”

She chewed her lip, her mind going a mile a minute. He’d have to be wary of any of her scheming, especially now that he knew Jughead was back in town. Meddling in other people’s lives had always been Betty’s go to to get her mind off of her own problems, and while it had been worked out in the past now there was no way it would ever work.

It would be nice, though, to have someone like Munroe to date while he was in town. But it wouldn’t be fair to either of them, not when Archie was dead set on leaving Riverdale the minute Betty's work was done.

After all, it had been Munroe he’d turned to in highschool, whether he needed help or just wanted to shoot the shit. He’d been the second person Archie had wanted to spend time with, after Ronnie, of course. Their bond had always been close, and it was more than just a bond formed through shitty circumstances. They watched the same movies, loved the same sports, and Munroe could argue musical theory like no one’s business.

So why couldn’t they at least be friends while he was in town?

#archie andrews #munroe moore #wip #not a #six sentence saturday

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skvaderarts · 3 years

Text

Hiraeth Chapter 1: Delirium

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter One: Delirium

“A fathomless and boundless deep,

There we wander, there we weep;

On the hungry craving wind

My Spectre follows thee behind.

‘He scents thy footsteps in the snow

Wheresoever thou dost go,

Thro’ the wintry hail and rain.

When wilt thou return again?”

-William Blake

-~-

It was winter.

The air held it’s chill in silent occupation as the light breeze kissed the powdered snow below his feet. Between his eyes, his hair stuck to his face. How uncharacteristic of him to sweat in the snow, especially with no jacket. The tall cypress trees proved to be a lively contrast to the towering evergreens that the shared space with, gently scattering leaves in every direction. They had been falling, much like he would be soon enough. It would either be here or at the hands of his pursuers.

During the time preceding this waking nightmare, everything had been silent. Simplicity and serenity had been all that he had sought out in this place in the first place, and much to his elation, he’d found it. But after a brief honeymoon period during which he’d grown quite fond of this little hamlet, everything had come crashing down around him like it always did. In the place of silence, there had been a sudden rush of sound. He hadn’t been able to hear it from where he’d been, but he had seen it, and the growing guilt that he now felt as he stood at the precipice of his likely demise consumed everything inside him. He had been spared their fates only to meet his at the bottom of the rocks.

He told himself that it was thin ice. It was rushing water, after all. Somewhere beneath the surface was a small glimmer of hope that perhaps if he only dared to take the plunge he would have his liberation. He had to for the rest of them. After all, that was why he was standing there in the first place. Their sacrifice had been profound and selfless, and now he had a responsibility as the only one left to bring justice to those who had paved the path before him with their very blood.

With a last tentative breath, he glanced back fearful, and then felt air rush past him. His descent had begun. As he approached the glowing white below him, everything went black. And then he opened his eyes.

Just a dream. The same dream. Would it ever just be a part of the past, something he could bury deep or burn and leave behind? Every dream found its way back to this place, and the rapture provided by the fact that his dreams were as infrequent as they were was enough in of its self to make him question his mental stability. It was nothing new, but it wasn’t any less unpleasant. The viewpoints seemed to change as he lingered in his subconscious thoughts again, whatever message he had yet to glean haunting him; forever leaving him with the sensation that more had happened back then than he could recall between the brief intervals of sanity that peppered his mind whenever he dared sleep.

But the frequency of it all…

He’d dozed off again, the allure of sleep proving once again to be more than he was capable of overcoming at this juncture. It had only been for a moment, but it had been a terrible mistake. The ceaseless pressure relented for a moment, allowing him to come back to his senses and assess his surroundings. He felt as though he was being pulled back into some nameless abyss, the edges of his consciousness blackened and unclear. Everyone was where they had been the last time that he checked, though several gazes fell upon him, more than likely taking note of his less than desirable complexion and the thin layer of clammy precipitation that had formed on his skin. He seemed to take on an eerie glow in the dim light the train car provided, the implications of something none of them fathomed clearly present and unmistakable. Something had been wrong with all of them since they’d left on this trip, little things that nagged at the edges of their subconscious. It was something that they all actively took note of, but none of them seemed to comprehend precisely what was happening to V.

As the team sat in quiet contemplation, silently assessing their available options, the quiet and predictable rhythm of the train was the only sound to penetrate the void. There was a tension to the air around them as if the very space they occupied possessed a viscosity all it’s own. Every breath felt heavy, every blink lingered; the sound of his pulse was all that he could hear. How long would they toil in this madness? How long had they already? Every second felt like an eternity at the mercy of a vengeful deity, and a part of V felt as though he was actively contributing to the nightmare that had become their natural habitat.

V tried to remember as he tried to forget.

Reality it’s self was becoming a technicality, a fleeting thing that he failed most days to grasp. And much the same he failed to comprehend the reasons behind it all. The nameless dread had become all-consuming. Air. He needed to leave this room and breath the air outside of this locomotive, however urban and polluted it might be. It was more than an urge. It had become a necessity, something intrinsic to his very survival. It had been easier to breathe when he was submerged underneath the waters of the bay that day at the ocean side, his body refusing to obey him.

A short breath and a heavy blink were what it took to finally comprehend his surroundings. The sound of footsteps and muffled voices suddenly pulled away, and he found himself slowly coming to a stop, taking in his surroundings for what had to be the first time since they’d departed, the fog had lifted and he saw everything around him with the utmost clarity and precision. There was a certain vibrancy to his surroundings again, not the dull haze that he’d once occupied. Had they mistaken his distress as mere silence, something so typical of him that no fuss was made of it?

Eyes were deceptive things, much like memory. Fleeting like dreams themselves. He rooted himself to the spot, exhaling a breath that he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding before that moment. He could see it, subconsciously noting that it wasn’t natural to be able to view his breath in such a humid environment. There was no cool air here, only dense trees and vegetation. In fact, the environment they were in was practically tropical, much to his fascination and horror. V didn’t remember coming here, but since he was standing there, that had to be the case, didn’t it? What was going on?

His sudden sense of awareness drew the gaze of those that he was traveling with, the lot of them seemingly pausing for a moment to assess his condition. They spoke amongst themselves, but he didn’t hear them, though this time it was due to the fact that he was more focused on trying to comprehend the existential horror that he felt towards his predicament, and not because of the situation itself. He felt his blood run cold as he realized that he genuinely had no comprehension as to where he was or how he had arrived here, and he didn’t truly understand how much time had passed. He grasped at faint memories of what had happened last that he could remember clearly, and nothing specific came to mind. Once he’d boarded the train, it was as though he’d totally lost his place in reality for the foreseeable future. He’d blinked and opened his eyes only to find himself where he now stood, confused and barely hiding the growing sense of panic that he felt rising up from deep within him, ready and eager to overflow.

Could he make himself speak? Did he dare?

“... Where are we? What… what’s going… on?”

Elation overflowed from Nero as he let out a sort of wispy wheeze, shrugging and allowing his arms to flop uselessly against his sides. He seemed to be in a state of disbelief while simultaneously expecting such a response. But in truth, the younger of the two was simply glad to hear him speak. It had been a while…

“Ya know, I was starting to think something was wrong with you. Looks like I was right.”

V registered the sound of Dante’s voice, but he couldn’t make himself physically turn to face him like he wanted to. Instead, he managed to slowly turn his head in his general direction in a gesture that wasn’t at all as benign as he’d hoped it would seem. His intention hadn’t been to give him the impression that he was glaring, but he could practically feel the sideways look that his uncle had given him, even though he didn’t fully comprehend why at that moment. His mind was working fast and slow at the same time in a strange hodgepodge of functions and fluidity that he found both exhausting and oddly calming all at once. But he got the impression that there was a darker reason for his seemingly placid demeanor.

Nero shared a look with Dante as they both gestured towards a small house that they were standing in the doorway of. It seemed to be some kind of stone and wooden cottage in a more rural area, though that was easily a mistake due to V’s current cognitive capacity and his lack of experience on such topics. At the moment, everything was hazy, and his stomach churned unsteady as he attempted to force himself to move towards the doorway. With every perceived movement that he made, he physically felt himself move backward despite the fact that he was somewhat sure he was going forward. That sense of stasis that had once been there having returned with a brutal vengeance, and he was less than able to contend with it, try as he might.

He took another tentative step forward, and everything went black again much the same as it had once before that day. He felt a rush of movement as a sudden warmth enveloped him that he couldn’t quite explain, voices encompassing him from every angle regardless of the fact that he couldn’t place their precise owner or locations. For a moment, he felt as though he were floating.

And then he came crashing down.

With violent efficiency, the world around him suddenly became crystal clear again. He could hear, see, touch, and feel everything around him again in the manager that he was meant to, but that served more to disorient him than it did to bring him clarity. His breath grew heavy as he realized that his pulse was more than slightly elevated; the sound of his heartbeat a dull throb in his ears and chest. He’d felt this sensation before, the overwhelming panic of it all rendering his mind and body utterly useless as he was seised by mindless terror. The only difference was that this time it lasted longer before it wore off.

The moment he finally regained the ability to more, he glanced around the room in a blurry rush, not entirely sure what it was that he was trying to locate. But just as he lost his footing, something ceased him, steadying him as he teetered over the edge of something. Until that moment, he hadn’t even noticed that he’d been standing. As his eyes came into focus, he realized that Vergil was there, steadying him with an expression somewhere firmly between irritated confusion and what seemed to be genuine concern, but he could have easily been mistaken. Had he always been there, or was this a new edition to his delirium? Considering the way that everything was spinning around him, there was no telling. And while there was no way of knowing just yet, he had the feeling that he’d find out shortly. One thing at a time.

“Oh, well that should do it. At least for now.” An unfamiliar voice spoke slowly and clearly to someone behind him, drawing his attention as he attempted to stop shuddering and stead himself. V felt a powerful desire to sit down, even if it was on the floor.” It is best that we keep this away from him. Such an unpleasant effect that it seems to have on him. I have never seen anything like this.”

V turned to face the woman he heard speaking, only to discover that he wasn’t hallucinating and it was indeed an unfamiliar face. Or if he was hallucinating, this particular aspect of his surroundings wasn’t part of the equation. Before him stood an elderly woman of diminutive stature, at least when compared to him. They were almost at head height despite the fact that he now sat on the floor. Vergil stood only a few feet behind him, seeming watching his every move with silent trepidation. His agitation was only matched by his abject dismay towards the entire situation, though it hid it very well under a thick layer of what would appear to be apathy to the average person. That alone was enough to rattle V’s already very fragile nerves.

“Yea, it didn’t do that when I carried it around either. Maybe the cult that took it did something to it?” Dante gestured towards the box that sat on the mantle across the room, the small box now chained shut and locked with a small lock. The devil hunter then spared V a glance before turning his attention back towards her. He seemed sympathetic towards whatever had happened to him, at least from what the young summoner could tell.” If we knew it was gonna do that, we wouldn’t have asked him to carry it. Hell, it would be in a led lined box or somethin’.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” She looked over at V, giving him a friendly and reassuringly warm smile.” Still… such an odd reaction for an Arcana.”

Dante looked between the older woman and the rest of the room, leaning back on the couch in an effort to make himself more comfortable.” Well, it’s over with now, at least. As long as we don’t take it out of the box around him again, we should be fine, right?” She nodded slowly, seemingly unsure but willing to go with the assumption for the time being. Dante looked at his brother and younger nephew before turning to gesture towards her, clearly indicating that he would be referring to her as he spoke.” Oh yea, almost forgot. Granny’s got a name. Matier, meet my V and Nero. The one with the constipated look on his face is my brother, Vergil.”

Nero waived in a friendly manner as he scooted off of the couch and onto the floor next to V. It wasn’t every day that he got to meet someone who knew Dante, especially this far from home. V simply nodded, suddenly in need of a restful night’s sleep. He didn’t feel physically tired in the way that he was accustomed to. No, instead he felt utterly drained. It was as though something had siphoned the very essence from his body. Vergil gave her a neutral look but nodded quietly, regarding her silently. His mind was elsewhere, but he was not so lost in his thoughts that he couldn’t acknowledge her. After all, they were in her home. Spending a lifetime in the underworld hadn’t rendered him that uncivilized.

“It is wonderful to meet you all. Always nice to have guests. It’s just my daughter and I most days.” She smiled softly, taking a moment to look at the box again.” It could be a form of corrupted sorcery, but I have no way of knowing for sure, Son of Sparda. You should all keep a close eye on him for now. These powers are beyond my understanding, at least for now.”

The Youngest Son of Sparda nodded in agreement.” Speaking of that daughter of yours, I might go see what’s keeping her soon. Being late isn’t really her style.”

Nero turned his attention back to V giving him a more serious look than the eldest of the two was used to receiving from his normally lackadaisical sibling. It wasn’t like Nero to seem so worried, at least from his experience. That being said, they seemed to have a soft spot for one another in that regard. V found himself thinking of Nero’s wellbeing more than the rest of the people around him, and it was for no particular reason that he could truly pinpoint. He cared if the rest of their family was harmed. That was a no-contest stance… but when things got bleak, he just found himself instinctually turning to his younger sibling. They had been through an awful lot together, and their shared experiences had brought them closer together. Simply having him there at that moment helped put him at ease, even if only a little.

“So what’s going on? And don’t tell me it’s nothing, because I can smell bullshit a mile away and you know it.” Nero said quietly, not trying to cause a scene. It was hard enough to get V to open up as it was. The last thing he needed to do was cause his reclusive older sibling to clam up.

Much to his ire, the rest of the room fell silent and everyone present turned their attention towards V, clearly curious as to what he was planning to say. The white-haired summoner gave Nero a tired look and exhaled under his breath, internally cursing himself and his brother and unison. He knew that he’d eventually have to talk about this, but that didn’t exactly make him eager to do so. Had no idea what time it was, but this had been a long day for him, and he got the feeling it was about to get a whole lot longer.

“I… recalled something that I had tried… very hard to forget. In vivid detail.” He turned away for a moment, resisting the temptation to simply stop talking and find a way to escape. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to talk about something personal, but this was easily one of the most unpleasant.” I have no reason to believe it is relevant but I think it may be time to tell you something about my past.”

-~-

Welcome back, everyone! It’s so wonderful to see you all here again! Sorry again for the delay. I just needed that extra two weeks to take care of some things and breath a little. Were in 2021 now, and the word count has officially surpassed 200K! I can’t put into words how much your support and kindness has meant to me over the last eight months. I hope this year turns out to be everything you want it to be. Stay safe and let’s get through this together!

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the new fic and the series up until this point. It’s been a blast hearing from you!

#V #Vitale #DMC5 AU #Devil May Cry V #Devil May Cry 5 V AU #V'sApocrypha #DMC5 #DMCV #DMC #Devil May Cry #Hiraeth #Book Three

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psychopersonified · 4 years

Text

Three Little Words

Post Are we ever going to talk about this? and Where was the wooing? (AO3)

Highly recommended to read the series first to get emotionally invested in their story arc. This short piece will feel a lot more satisfying once you know their backstory. But you can still read this as a stand alone.

Mallory cottons on and worries, Bond tries bubble tea (sorry, I couldn't resist), very important words that haven't been said are said...

Tags: Sharing food, some groping, newly established relationship, humour, fluff with feeling, tiny mention of PTSD, minor hurt/comfort.

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

London, Air Street - Hawksmoor

They arrived together, Mallory was sure of it. He knows because he saw them leave their Vauxhall HQ together. What was even more unexpected was that 007 was in the passenger seat of Q’s red Hyundai at the time. Rumours abound about those two; but M had chosen to ignore them up to now for the sake of his own sanity. Sorting fact from fiction would take up all his time. Even Q’s new car was subject to gossip - some preposterous story about it being a gift from 007.

However, now partway through the evening of Agent 008’s retirement party at a seafood and steak restaurant on Air Street - Mallory can’t ignore the rumours any longer.

Moneypenny had organised the event, booking out the entire floor of the glamorous art deco restaurant. Dark wood panelling matched with emerald green upholstery and decorated with gold accents, it oozed perfectly understated style. 150 or so people were invited, all part of the MI6 community with more or less direct involvement in the Double-0 Program. So practically everyone knows everyone, making it a safe and comfortable setting to let loose a little. Which might be why M is noticing behaviours that were not usually on display within the SIS building among general population.

Which brings M back to his observation. The pair is ensconced in one of the semi circle booths with Eve, Jenny, Mark and Dr Chen. Bond is seated on the outer edge, an arm slung casually over the back of the booth with the Quartermaster sitting much close than propriety would deem necessary - practically nestled in the crook of the agent’s arm. They are laughing along and joining in free flowing conversation with the other occupants of their table and generally having a good time.

No one on the table appears to find the unusually close proximity odd. In fact no one in the entire party seems to have given their behaviour a second glance except for Mallory.

As the evening progressed, M sees more and more that worries him. He’d caught them sharing food, eating right off each other’s plates. Bond cutting bits off his steak and setting the pieces aside for Q to pick off. Even offering Q his red wine, chosen specially to pair with the steak, holding it up to his nose for a sniff. Then instead of getting the server to pour a new glass, he just lets Q drink from his, keeping the glass between them throughout the main course.

Then there was the seafood pasta, and the utter ridiculousness of it. Q eats half of it and hands it over, cutlery and all for Bond to finish. The agent obliges without hesitation, and couldn’t be bothered to get a fresh set of cutlery.

At one point the young quartermaster places a hand on 007’s thigh to draw his attention. Bond is immediately attentive, pausing to lean close so Q can whisper something privately. Whatever Q says makes him nod and smile.

M panics internally, perhaps he’s been ignoring the rumours for too long and wonders if it might be too late to do something about it now. Alec making his way round a willing secretarial pool is one thing, but this does not look ‘no strings attached’. However on the plus side, 007 has been a lot more manageable lately.

Sure, he still had problems with authority and argues incessantly about his orders, then goes off improvising his missions and continues to destroy things that he shouldn’t have… BUT he hasn’t gone dark for a while now - regularly checking in with HQ before he decides to execute a high risk strategy. Not for approval mind you, just to let them know where they might recover his body… which is a step up considering his track record. And he hasn’t absconded in a while, always returning to London immediately once the job is done, without MI6 needing to use the threat of arrest as motivation.

If whatever this is between them is the root of the behavioural change in 007, then taking it away is a sure way of inciting rebellion. Considering their combined skillsets, it would be impudent to underestimate them. However, should the relationship sour, it would cause a whole set of other problems. It puts M in quite a bit of a conundrum. How long has this been going on and why hasn’t Psych highlighted this.

—

“How are you with driving?” Q asks as he holds up the coat for Bond after retrieving it from the coat check

“Still good,” the agent answers as he slips his arms into the coat.

“Excellent, because I’m decidedly not.” Q declares, emphasis on the T in the ‘not’. Bond can tell, Q’s a little giggly and handsier than usual. And he’s had to help Q down the stairs from the first floor restaurant.

“Keys?” Bond asks as he turns around to return the favour, helping Q into his jacket and scarf.

“Left poc— *yawn*—ket” Q yawns midway though his answer, using his hands to cover his mouth as Bond dips a hand into his trouser pocket from behind to fish for the car keys.

Once they dispense with the goodbyes to those lingering in the lobby, they head out. Q’s car is parked in an hourly garage a short walk away.

—

Unknown to the pair, their little interaction was overheard by Mallory and Tanner.

M turns to Tanner, levelling him with a serious look, “Those two, I want to know what’s going on. How serious is it?”

“Sir?” Tanner hesitates, then smiles tightly, unsure if the next thing he says will get the pair in trouble, “Fairly serious…”

“Why wasn’t I told?” M huffs annoyed, though more at himself than anyone.

Tanner looks genuinely perplexed, “Sir?… I believe there was a general assumption that you knew? And because you haven’t reprimanded them that you were willing to… look the other way?”

Mallory sighs, “So the rumour about the car is true then?”

“Ah... yes. They’ve also been seen coming and going from HQ together whenever Bond is in London.”

“Ahh… shit.” M sounds resigned.

“What are you going to do sir? You’re not going to stop them are you?” Tanner’s looks like someone just kicked his puppy. He wants to add -that would be beyond cruel-.

“I can’t very well do that anymore can I? Not if it’s that serious. Not if 007 has found his reason to keep himself alive.” Mallory knows first hand what that psychological incentive can do for men and women in their line of work.

“I want to talk to Dr Epstein next week. If I’m going to allow this, I want to know what I’m getting into and how we can make sure this stays to our advantage.”

“Yes sir.”

——————————-

London, Knightsbridge - Saturday

The garishly colourful interior is the first thing that strikes him as they enter. Pastel primary colours splashed everywhere. Next is the crowd; they are both much older than the average customer with Bond likely being 20yrs senior than most everyone including the staff.

The menu is a cheery if confusing list of options. The drinks equally colourful, befitting the kindergarten decor. He lets Q place an order on his behalf, because otherwise he wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“What is this place?” Bond asks when Q is done placing their needlessly complicated order.

“It’s called bubble tea, because of the toppings you can have them add to your drink. I’m told it’s a cultural phenomenon sweeping the student scene.” Q explains.

“How do you even know about this?”

“Marcus introduced us to it. He has the whole of Q-Branch hooked on this. It’s become a Friday night Cyberwar games staple. Bubble tea, fried chicken and curry,” he updates Bond.

“I see Agent Park has been busy giving all of you diabetes.” Bond remarks rather unkindly.

Agent Marcus Park is the new 008, the latest recruit and by that token the youngest in the current lineup of Double-0s. Dripping with cool, savvy with social media current affairs - he’d quickly ingratiated himself with the boffins in Q-Branch who were mostly around the his age.

In the short time since he’s arrived, Marcus has managed to affect the culture and language in Q-Branch. He’s even developed some idiotic ‘special’ handshake that everyone was keen to get in on - officially making him the coolest agent and everyone’s new favourite. So if Agent Park says bubble tea is cool, then officially, it’s cool.

All this annoyed Bond more than he cared to admit because it meant Marcus spent more time in Q-Branch than any of the other agents save himself. Aside from his early faux pas of mistakenly using Q’s mug (which 008 has since learned NOT to because no one in Q-Branch liked that), what Bond particularly disliked was Park taking up -his- sofa in the lounge. He can tolerate 008 swanning about the place, but draws the line at the sofa. Every time he sees the upstart stretched across it, he gets an irrational flare of temper.

Q smiles indulgently at him, aware of the minor quarel between the two agents, “Oh don’t be jealous James. Besides, it’s better than the horrid energy drinks.” Their order comes up then and Q goes to collect it.

When Q gets back, Bond is presented with a monstrously large Roasted Oolong Milk Tea with tapioca pearl toppings, half sugar and one-third ice. The drink comes with a supersized straw whereby he is expected to siphon out the dubiously coloured pearls resting at the bottom of the cup (why they are called toppings when they sink is question for another time). Bond isn’t a particularly picky eater, he can’t be for survival - so he’s open to trying anything. He’s not impressed, still a too sweet and far too milky for his liking, and he could have done without the weirdly chewy pearls that had a tendency to get stuck in his teeth.

“How’s your tea? Feeling hip with the crowd yet?” Q pokes, waiting for his response.

Bond gives his verdict on the tea then the establishment, “…. but these stools are incredibly uncomfortable. And the height of these tables; ridiculous. My hip joints are aching.” Bond grouses. Also the excited high pitched chatter of the other patrons, is starting to give him a headache.

Halfway through, Bond switches drinks - curious about Q’s pale green Honeydew Melon Tea with black herbal jelly, three-quarter sugar and half ice. The drink is interesting, lighter than the tea, but the texture and taste of the soft slightly medicinal jelly takes some getting used to.

Inexplicably, Bond feels his mood start to slip, “What are they nattering on about?” Bond pinches the bridge of his nose and tilts his head in the direction of the largest and noisiest group.

Every so often, one of them would explode with shrill laughter that was closer to a hysterical scream than anything resembling normal mirth. It was grating on his nerves in more was than one. God, when did children get so annoying?

Q shrugs, looking up from an incoming notification on his phone. He’s not really caught up on pop culture himself. What a pair they made - the basement geek and his curmudgeon. Q returns to his phone and the unusual forwarded notification from the Smart Blood implant. One of the agents is experiencing a spike in heart rate not associated with any physical activity ::Agent 007::.

Bond takes sip of his drink, expression still pinched. Another teen suddenly wails like a banshee about to be murdered before peeling off into laughter. Q is about to show him the readout from the app when in a surprise move, Bond reaches out to take Q’s hands in his.

The agent shifts seats to sit alongside Q. He then gathers him close, the entire length of their sides, from shoulder to knee pressed together - before burying his nose in Q’s temple and taking a deep breath. Despite Bond’s penchant for peacocking himself, as a couple they’re not one for flagrant public displays of affection, so the unusual move sends Q’s mind ticking with concern.

There is a slight tremor that runs through Bond, muscles twitching, not quite relaxed as it should - a precursor to fight or flight perhaps. It triggers Q’s memory, something in 007’s psych file as with most of the Double-0s; a mention about higher risk of experiencing PTSD - and it clicks. The screaming teens were enough to send a fright through normal people, how must it feel like for a veteran of violence like Bond.

Q squeezes back in understanding, “Let’s get out of here shall we? These kids are giving me a headache.”

“Excellent suggestion,” Bond agrees without hesitation, pulling Q along as he gets up. They retrieve their shopping and drinks, and head out into the open air.

Once outside, Bond starts to cheer up significantly but nevertheless, he clings to Q with a tight arm around the shoulder. Q reciprocates with an arm around Bond’s waist; letting him know that he’s there and he understands; without coddling the agent or challenging his ego.

Occasionally Bond would slow their pace, the hand clutching Q’s shoulder would shift to stroke the back of his head, pulling Q close to nuzzle his hair - always taking deep slow breaths. They meander around Knightsbridge before Q suggests taking a turn inside The Natural History Museum. By the time their walk takes them there, Bond is for the most part back to normal.

Q had always loved the natural history museum. The large echoey stone galleries, the ornate architecture and of course the prehistoric displays in their modern glass cases. The hushed space provides Bond with some respite to recover as well.

They wander around aimlessly for the first twenty minutes - Q steering them down one gallery after another, providing soothing commentary about one display or another and Bond was happy just to tag along stuck to his side.

But at the first deserted corner they find, Bond unexpectedly jerks him close - sending Q colliding into a wall of muscle. The kiss that follows is deep, emotionally brimming with gratitude and affection. The hand that’s buried in his hair and roaming his back is not salacious but reverential. The kiss lasts an eternity. When they part, they are both breathless - noses and mouths rubbed pink.

Bond steals several more brief kisses after that before looking Q right in the eye. What he says next, floors Q. In a venerated whisper, James declares with every fibre of his being, “I love you.”

It’s the first time either of them has said it. They’ve made it this far into their dizzying convoluted dance, circling one another with playful oblique references to their relationship without ever once saying these words. They’re living together now for christssake!

Q reaches up to cradle Bond’s face in his hands, thumbs stroking the craggy cheeks and worn crows feet around the eyes. “Likewise…,” Q thinks to leave it at that, but it feels like he’d be shortchanging something so significant. So he pulls Bond in for another deep kiss and mumbles against his mouth, ”I love you, I love you, I love you”.

Simple. Uncomplicated. Love.

When they part again, the gallery isn’t deserted anymore. An elderly couple had wandered in and was nearby, viewing the exhibit they were standing adjacent to. Bond bends down to collect their shopping bags. Q smiles apologetically at the couple as he tries to make himself presentable again.

“No worries dear. I remember how it was like on our honeymoon,” the lady tells him with a wink.

Honey-what-now?! That catches Q completely off guard. Did he just miss another milestone? Q nods awkwardly just as Bond tugs on his hand, “Uh… Please excuse us.”

—

Outside again and the street is awash with light as the sun peeks out from behind a bank of clouds. Bond is back to normal, without a trace of his earlier vulnerability. But he does continue to rest an arm on Q’s shoulder.

They decide to walk home. Unhurried, just enjoying each other, not a care in the world, even if it was just for the afternoon. Strolling along the streets, window shopping until dinnertime, before popping into a restaurant close to home.

Bond spies a discarded bubble tea cup as they pass by a street bin and is reminded of Marcus.

“Do me a favour? Could you kick Park out of the lab once in a while?”

That earns him a sarcastic reply, “Oh yes, because I’ve been highly successful at kicking agents out so far. Besides, on what grounds?”

“He’s taking up my sofa,” Bond grumbles petulantly.

“Hardly grounds for expulsion. And it’s not your sofa. If anyone has the right to be upset, it should be me. That was my kip out sofa before the two of you decided to install your arses on it.”

“Ahh… so its -our- sofa then. He has no business being there.” Bond looks for a loophole he can exploit, “Surely sleeping with the Quartermaster has its perks?”

“You’re a right bastard you know that?” Q admonishes. “Besides, you sleeping with the quartermaster is precisely why I can’t kick him out.”

Bond still doesn’t get it so Q has to spell it out for him, “Haven’t you noticed that Marcus is sweet on Jenny? I can’t kick him out or I’ll be accused of double-standards.”

“Huh… Is he now?” Blonde eyebrows climb to the hairline in surprise, “And how does she feel about him?“

“We’re not sure yet. She went out with him a couple of times. But then just this Friday, she threw a half drunk cup of bubble tea in his face. At the moment she thinks he’s a bit of a prick… I can understand exactly how she feels,” Q looks over at Bond pointedly.

James grins unashamed, “M is really going to love this development.”

Q hums in agreement, “Hmm… if she files a complaint against him, I suspect M will put a moratorium on Double-0s dating Q-Branch techs.”

A thoughtful smile spreads across James’s face, “Well then, I suppose we’d better set a good example.”

——FIN——

Notes: If you liked this story, there’s more on the blog or AO3. Please like, reblog, comment etc. Enjoy!

#00Q #00q fanfiction #00q fic #q #quartermaster

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