#like looking back at how I’d analyze things as a kid or how my youngest brother does | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forestlingincorporated · 3 years

Text

I wanna talk about Janet Drake

I’m not against exaggeratedly evil versions of Tim’s parents, tbh. It’s fanfiction, if we can depict an Exaggeratedly Good version of Bruce (which we can, and I do, and I love) then we can depict the Drakes as Exaggeratedly Bad. As someone who personally identifies with Tim, and his brand of complicated parental abuse in particular, I find it cathartic to uncomplicate that abuse and rescue him from the Obviously Evil Bad People.

That said, since much of comics lore is passed down word of mouth, the oral tradition surrounding Tim has developed this idea of Janet as The Worse Parent between her and Jack that was never really present in the comics. We see much LESS of Janet, and we have 20 years worth of comics depicting Jack as a neglectful hotheaded idiot who ultimate does love his son. More importantly, Jack isn’t very much LIKE Tim, so there is a habit to attribute Tim’s traits to his mother... and, as someone who really really identifies with Tim, Tim has... some negative traits. Tim can be a bitch sometimes. He’s fiercely intelligent and sweet and kind, with a strong sense of justice, but he can be cold and judgmental and unthinking - he fights those traits, but he does have them.

And it is perfectly fine to depict Janet that way. I’ve enjoyed depictions of Cold Calculating Janet Drake, but it’s not the ONLY option, and I want to challenge fans to consider different avenues. Tim could pick up these traits from anywhere: a nanny, Mrs. Mc Ilvaine (”Mrs. Mac”), a teacher, tv, Sherlock Holmes novels, Bruce Wayne himself. Tim is capable of not being like EITHER parent.

So, what do we KNOW about Janet? (I’ll also touch on Jack, but only in scenes he appears with Janet.)

When Janet was first introduced she was depicted as a gentle but “modern” woman. This was written in 1989, told by a 13 year old Tim, so this theoretically was meant to take place in 1979. I’m not here to give a lecture on the history of sex discrimination in the united states, but much of the legislation protecting women in the workforce or surrounding women’s bodily autonomy would have been very very new in this initial depiction.

Here, Janet is shown to be encouraging, emotional, maternal, and projects her own feelings onto Tim. Jack is shown to be slightly sexist, possibly discouraging, but not overbearing. And the artist is shown not to know how to draw children.

To insert some speculation, I think it’s important to note all the Drakes witnessed a terrible murder/accident that day. I point this out, because this is the last time Jack and Janet are depicted this way. It’s possible they changed as a result of this event specifically.

However, this is also a story being told by Tim. It’s also possible these events aren’t really “real” at all, and Tim is misremembering what his parents were like as a three-year-old, possibly projecting a more palatable version of his parents into the narrative. This is entirely up to personal interpretation.

In fact, the Drakes are shown in Legend of the Dark Knight attending Haly’s Circus, and the artist knows what a toddler looks like and they’re depicted as already having a slightly strained relationship. Jack is clearly on the defensive, and Janet seems to be passive-aggressive, though she could just be attempting to explain the situation to her toddler honestly. The intended tone isn’t especially clear.

I do want to point out, in this depiction, Tim isn’t being carried like he was in the previous one. He’s walking ahead of his parents, which isn’t a terrible horrible crime, but could be dangerous in a crowded place like the circus. Might be a subtle hint to his parents overall neglect.

Back to A Lonely Place of Dying, in Tim’s memories of the night he discovered Robin and Dick Grayson were the same person at nine-years-old, his parents are home, and watching TV together while Tim played... trucks, idk, in the living room with them. (This is semi-interesting, because you could say “oh, Tim liked vehicle toys as a kid” or you could extrapolate that this is another subtle indication of Jack’s sexism, providing Tim with appropriately “boy toys.” Either interpretation is valid. If Tim was assigned female at birth, would they have been given “girl toys,” or allowed to play with whatever they wanted?)

This is, to my knowledge, the only panel of the Drakes when Tim is between ages 3 and 13. They’re all together, which might indicate that the Drakes were home more often when Tim was 9, only later going on business trips when Tim was “old enough” but...

This is Tim’s boarding school when he’s 13. While most boarding schools in the US are for grades 9-12, Tim is clearly not a freshman at age 13; look how much younger the other kids in this panel are. In the US, the youngest you can attend most boarding schools is 7.

That means Tim could have begun going to boarding school anytime between 7 and 13. He most likely spent all of middle school in boarding school, at least. There are an almost infinite number of possible ways the Drakes handled having a business that required lots of international travel, an archeology hobby, AND a very young child. Janet staying home until Tim was 7, 11, 13, is equally possible as the Drakes having a nanny until 7, 11, 13. Tim just doesn’t talk about that period of his life very much.

(”What about Mrs. Mac?” - it is unclear when Mrs. Mac begins working for the Drakes. We only see her when Jack comes out of his coma. She could either be a long standing staff member, or a recent hire.)

Note: I’ve seen it said that it’s canon that “According to Tim, when his parents were home, they made a point to try and include him in their activities, bringing him along to events that were normally adults only.” I have never seen this panel, or I don’t remember it, so I cannot confirm, but I also cannot debunk this because... comics.

By the time Tim is 13, Jack and Janet are away on business trips a lot, with limited communication, and no firm return date. If I’m feeling generous, I’d say it was harder to communicate internationally in 1990 than it is today. If I’m not feeling generous, I’d say the Drakes are extremely wealthy, and international communication was easier than ever before in the 80s and 90s. They’re not even going home to see Tim in a week or two, they’re going home and calling Tim at boarding school in a week or two.

Even Bruce thinks its weird, though he doesn’t say so to Tim’s face. It’s written almost as if Tim’s parents’ neglect was meant to be a plot point that just got forgotten about.

Tim’s parents are fighting at this point (their poor assistant), but Janet still goes with Jack on these business trips. And she’s clearly involved in the business, somehow, but the comics never SAY what Janet’s JOB is. We’re told Jack is the exec, but Janet is ONLY ever referred to as Jack’s wife, though they’re later described as the “heads” of the company, plural.

Just to be clear, this is Jack’s business. There’s a perception that Jack is a bad business man because he and Janet fight over company decisions, and Jack looses the business after Janet dies, but Jack looses the company YEARS after Janet dies, and maintains it for about a year after No Man’s Land at that. We’re not told how Jack looses the business, but he’s got to be doing something right. Janet isn’t necessarily the “real brains” of Drake Industries.

And I’m not... gonna... touch the... exploitation and racism because... I’m not qualified to do that. But, here’s the panel. The Drakes sure seem exploitative and racist in their business decisions. Someone else can... analyze that with more nuance.

Regardless how how long they’ve been fighting, when their lives are in danger, the Drakes fall back into a loving husband and wife. Their marriage may be falling apart, but they do care about each other.

I want to show these panels because it shows that Tim and Jack do have things in common. They’re both level headed in a crisis and can be somewhat cold in their practicality. Janet meanwhile and silent. Jack is later willing rant and rave at their captors, but Janet remains silent.

That is, until they’re alone, and she finally lets herself fall apart.

God, Jack can be obnoxious. Janet just looks miserable and resigned. I actually think Tim takes after his parents in this respect in equal measure. Tim can have a temper, but he can also be fairly melancholy and defeatist.

Jack keeps reminding Janet to be strong and in control, which could be period typical sexism? But Jack seems so practiced and ready with the words of encouragement, and with Tim’s history with depression, I wonder if Janet has an inclination towards it as well.

As the end approaches, when Jack brings up Tim, Janet seems to have a lot of regret. She talks about “wasting” the good things, and I don’t think it’s too big of a stretch to assume she’s talking about time spent with her only child.

From this point on, Janet is at times spoken of, but not seen. Like here, when Jack says Janet wouldn’t approve of him and Tim being so “far apart.” He says this after he tells him he takes back his threat to send him back to boarding school, which might imply Janet was against the idea of boarding school? Though she obviously lost that argument when she was alive.

Jack will of course renege on this later, but that’s Jack Drake for you.

Or here in Tim’s illness induced dream, where he gets everything he wants. Though, since this is a fantasy of Tim’s, where his father and girlfriend are both more accepting and understanding than they are in real life, I would take this depiction of Janet with a grain of salt.

After loosing Drake Industries, Jack thinks about Janet (though, they call her Catherine/Cathy for some fucking reason) during his depressive episode. And... uh...

Hallucinates a Valkyrie???? Is this symbolic of suicidal thoughts, or is she... real? Or is he seriously hallucinating?

Anyway, we’re not here to discuss Jack’s mental state, the fact that he forgot Tim’s birthday, or that concerning “I was going to knock some sense into you but you’re still bigger than me” statement from Tim, we’re here to talk about Janet. And even though this entire arc is about Jack mourning his first wife, they don’t SAY anything about Janet herself at all. I mean, they don’t even get her name right, so I guess what was I expecting.

Then there’s Origins and Omens, which also doesn’t say anything about Janet, except that Tim’s memory of her is faulty - Janet was poisoned, her assistant Jeremy’s throat was slit on television, but Tim seems to have conflated the death he did see with the death he didn’t.

The only piece of canon to suggest that Janet might be cold, is Tim compares her to Thalia. And even then, he’s really just saying Janet was protective of him. It’s kind of a scary look to make at your kid, but Bruce does the same thing, so.

I do want to say... it’s not 100% clear if Tim is even talking about Janet. He could be talking about Dana. Dana was observably protective of Tim, though I don’t think he’s ever called her mom. He PROBABLY means Janet.

And finally we have Tim visiting his mother’s grave (in a duel Christian/Jewish cemetery, make of that what you will), where Tim says she was “a little religious.”

And that’s it! That is all we know about Janet Drake in New Earth. Hardly the Mom From Hell, but she isn’t perfect. I’d be interested in seeing some alternate depictions of her within the fandom.

I’m still gonna eat up Terrible Parents From Hell like a starving puppy dog, though. Just some food for creative thought.

#Tim Drake #janet drake #jack drake #robin #Red Robin #character analysis

1K notes · View notes

louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years

Text

It’s Nice to Have a Friend

Ok, so here it is!! I would have post it yesterday but unfortunately I lost 3000 words and had to rewrite. I love the friends to lovers trope and I think that INTHAF is unbelievably underrated, so I wrote this!! There is a smut part that I had to cut out, but I promise that I will post it separately later! (It was getting too long). Anyways, enjoy!!

October 2000

Aelin Galathynius had a terrible temper.

Her mother Evalin, since she was only a baby, used to announce to everyone that he had gotten her father’s temper. Unfortunately, her father Rhoe would add, she has got her mother’s impulsivity. Her uncle would then finalize it by saying it was a terrible combination.

And it was.

She could still remember the first day of grade 3. She was only eight, the youngest of her class filled with nine year olds, and had to promise her dad that she wouldn’t get into an argument or fight with anyone during the school hours. Later that day, when she and another boy arrived all sweaty at home, she would tell her dad that she obeyed.

Technically, she got into a fight after school hours.

Everything was fine during the day, to be honest. Aelin was excited to be a third grader, and her cousin and best friend were in the same room as she was. Aelin had no problem staying calm throughout the day as she stuck to Aedion and Lysandra. They had their classes, lunch, some more classes and Aelin was ready to walk home and tell her dad how well behaved she had been.

Until she saw the new student.

To be honest, Aelin hadn’t found him interesting enough to talk to during the day. The only thing that actually caught her attention about him was the silver hair, but he was so quiet, brooding and aloof that not even his hair made him seem interesting enough to Aelin go talk to him. She would have gladly lived the rest of her life not talking to him, but as she was walking home after the school bell rang and saw some of the kids in the fifth grade picking on him, Aelin felt curious enough to approach just a little to know what was happening.

Only to listen and watch. Stay out of it. You promised dad you would stay out of fights.

She was resolute on that up until the moment she actually managed to hear what the other boys were saying.

“Is it true you don’t talk because your accent is so strong no one would even understand you?” Hamel asked, but there was no childish ignorance in his tone. He knew what he was doing.

“I hear you and your father had to run from your country because he killed your mom.” One of the boys, Archer, was saying. “Are you a freak like your dad?”

The silver boy’s cheeks turned red, and he tried to walk faster through the snow. It was only fall, but snow usually came early to Orynth.

“Are you mad your dad killed your mom?” Archer pressed, and before she could even control herself, Aelin was walking in their direction.

“You guys are idiots.” She announced, getting the attention of the three boys. Archer rolled his eyes, but Sam just stared at her. Aelin ignored both, turning to the new student. “He’s not a freak, and he talks. I heard it before.”

It was a blatant lie, but the boy just nodded, some red leaving his cheeks.

Aelin crossed her arms, staring at Archer. “Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Oh, yeah?” Archer imitated her pose, mimicking her voice.

Aelin felt that very bad temper stirring.

“Yes.” She said, matter-of-factly. “Because you look stupid, sound stupid and act stupid. No one wants to be friend with a stupid… asshole.” She said, putting in the last word and hoping that she was using in the right context. To be honest, she had heard her dad say it a few times but had no idea what it meant.

By the red now on Archer’s face, she had used it correctly.

“You little…” Archer started saying, coming on her. Thinking about it in the years after the event, Aelin would admit she could have handled the situation better, but at that time she had been only eight, almost nine, and a boy three years older was coming on her direction.

And so she let her mother’s impulsivity take over.

And so when Archer was close enough, she kicked him between the legs and ran like hell.

She could hear Archer’s grunt as she turned around, picked the new boy by the elbow and forced him to run with her. She immediately knew it had been a bad idea, and it would only cause Archer to pick on both of them for the rest of their school years, but she could worry about that later.

“You have to run.” Aelin grunted, pulling the silver haired boy with her. He hesitated for a second before gripping her hand and running with her. For the next four minutes, both ran all around the neighborhood, Sam’s steps not too far after them. Aelin hoped Archer was in enough pain to not come after them.

Despite the snow and the cold, Aelin felt sweat going down her back. She should have already been home, and as they ran, they just got further and further away from it. The new boy was breathing just as hard as she was, and they were too young at the time to be able to run much longer.

Suddenly, he pulled Aelin by the hand. The boy forced them out of the Main Street, taking a little path through the woods nearby. He ran a little bit more before arriving at a huge trunk. Breathing hard, he pulled a part of the wood away from the tree, revealing an empty inside. Without being told to do so, Aelin rushed inside, feeling her back pressed against the inside of the truck when the boy got in too.

They tried to remain silent as they heard Sam steps approaching. As in synchrony, they both let out their breaths as they heard Sam’s steps going away. The two kids waited an extra minute before leaving the inside of the trunk.

“Oh, I think I lost one of my gloves while we ran. Mom is gonna kill me.” Aelin turned to be boy, looking him up and down and then the empty tree. “That’s nice. You found it during the summer?”

He nodded.

“Ok…” Aelin said, somewhat uncomfortable. “Do you talk?”

He just nodded again.

Aelin felt her temper rising once more, and she crossed her arms, frowning at him. “Well, can you tell me your name then?”

The boy just stared at her in silence. He took a step forward, taking something out of his pocket and handing it to her. Aelin examined the black glove. It was like hers, even though a little bit larger, but she thought it would be enough to convince her mom that she had just swapped it with someone rather than have lost it.

“Well, thank you.” Aelin said, pocketing the glove. She stared him up and down again, shrugging to herself as she continued. “Wanna hang out? My cousin and best friend can’t go to my house today. Playing video game alone is boring.”

He immediately nodded, taking another step forward. Aelin turned around, starting to walk in her house’s direction. From the corner of her eye, she kept trying to analyze the boy. He didn’t seem like a shy person, so maybe he just didn’t like to talk?

“You know,” Aelin started, unable to withstand the silence. “You don’t have to talk. I can talk enough for both of us. But it would be nice to know your name. And where you’re from. I mean, I guess I would ask you some normal stuff but you don’t talk. I mean, you talk but don’t, right? You chose not to talk? I don’t think I’d be able to stop talking, it sounds boring. How do you ask for things? Oh my gods, what about when you need to go to the bathroom? Do you talk then? Why did you stop talking?”

Aelin stopped for a second when she saw the boy staring at her wide eyed. She blushed a little, realizing that she had babbled. Her dad would always laugh whenever she did that, and while Aelin didn’t mind it with her family, she didn’t know if this stranger minded her talking so much.

“Sorry.” She said. This time, when she started talking, she tried to go slower. “You know, if what Sam said was true and you do have an accent, I wouldn’t mind. I mean, I can learn to understand you. But if you don’t want to ever talk, I wouldn’t mind either. Did you have to learn to understand me? If you did, was it hard? Do you think we speak funny? How old were you when you came here?”

“My name is Rowan.” The boy— Rowan— said. He did have a strong accent, but Aelin found it rather nice how he pulled his Rs.

“You talk!” Aelin said animatedly. “Thank the gods. I mean, I could talk for both of us but talking alone is kinda strange. I think I would get used to it, though. Oh, or we could talk through notes!”

Rowan smiled a little at that, nodding. “I do believe you could talk for both of us. And it was strange to see how you all talked, but it’s normal now. I came when I was eight, but I’m nine now.”

Aelin nodded as if she understood even though she had never really interacted with that many people that spoke differently from her. Until now, at least. “That’s nice. Do you only talk to a few people? How do you communicate with people who you don’t like talking to? I have a cousin in Perranth who is mute, so the whole family knows how to use sign language to interact. If you prefer to use sign language, we can. Do you know sign language?”

“Aye, you talk.” Rowan said, but he didn’t make it sound mean. Actually, the smile on his face had widened. “I do not know sign language. I’m just really quiet around most people. If I ever need something I can ask, but normally I prefer not to.”

“Who do you talk to?”

“My dad. My cousins.” Rowan thought a little. “My friends back at home.”

“And now me.” Aelin said, as smug as an eight year old could be. “I’m the only person you talk here? Does that make me your best friend friend?”

Rowan blushed, looking down as they approached Aelin’s home. “You want to?”

“Of course.” Aelin said, frowning again. “Why else would I have invited you to hang out?”

“I—“

Rowan was interrupted by Aelin’s mom coming outside, scolding at her daughter. She took in the sweaty face, the clothes dirty because of the inside of the three and shook her head. “Not even a day, Aelin?”

“It wasn’t my fault!”

Her mom sighed. “It never is.”

“Ask Rowan!” She said, turning to him and narrowing her eyes. “Was it my fault?”

He shook his head, looking at Aelin’s mom. She raised an eyebrow at him, looking between the two kids.

“This is Rowan. He doesn’t talk to anyone here but me.” Aelin put her hands on her hips, smiling at her mom. “I’m his best friend.”

Evalin took in Rowan’s similar appearance, sighing again. “Gods help me.”

Aelin turned to Rowan, a smile on her face, whispering. “She likes you.”

He chuckled, smiling shyly at Evalin. She looked at him for a few seconds before giving a warm smile back. “I don’t know if that smile of yours means that you’ll keep Aelin out of trouble, if you’ll get into trouble with her or if you’ll be the person taking her out of trouble.”

“It’s Aelin. She’ll corrupt him for the second option.” Her dad said, coming from inside the house. He eyed Aelin and Rowan, a smile on his lips. “Let me guess, not your fault.”

“It wasn’t!”

Rhoe simply raised his eyebrows, shaking his head. “Never is, jellybean. It never is.”

Aelin crossed her arms, stomping into the house. She stopped a few steps inside, turning around to see that Rowan hadn’t moved a step. She sighed, imitating her parents. “Rowan, what are you waiting for?”

He looked at Aelin’s parents for a second before rushing into her house. He stopped near her, whispering so silently that only she could hear. “Can I call my dad?”

“Can he call his dad?” Aelin said, staring up at her parents. They looked at each other, confused, but nodded. Rhoe handed Aelin the phone, but she didn’t do anything with it. Instead, she just kept staring at her parents. “He only talks to me! You can’t be here!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Rhoe said, raising his hands. Her parents left for the living room, and only then Rowan called his dad. It was quick— Rowan let his dad know where he was and, surprisingly, discovered that his dad worked with Aelin’s mom.

“Thank you.” Rowan said, handing back the phone.

“It’s ok.” Aelin took it, running to the living room and giving it back to her father. “We will play video game. Do not go there! I’ll talk to Rowan and you can’t hear him talking.”

“Ok…” Her father said, but it sounded more like a question.

Aelin glared at him for a second more before turning around and going back to Rowan. She grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him to the TV room.

“What just happened?” Rhoe asked baffled.

Evalin, however, was sitting relaxedly on the sofa, a newspaper in her hands and a soft smile on her lips. “Your daughter found a new best friend. He doesn’t talk around strangers. Gods, man, it’s not that hard.”

———————

December 2003

“Ro. Ro. Ro!” Aelin tried whispering. “Rowan!”

Rowan turned to her from his seat, eyes wide as if to say “What?”.

Aelin merely smiled, handing him a note over his shoulder. Although years had passed since they became friends and Rowan was more comfortable around Aelin, he still preferred to not talk too much around other people. He was always polite and quiet, and Aelin honestly didn’t mind his silence in public. They had other ways to communicate. Because Aelin was so close to Aedion, her cousin and Rowan became friends with time. The same happened to Lysandra and, since all three of them had learned sign language since they were little because of Elide, the three of them taught Rowan how to use it too.

Most times, however, they just shared notes. Aelin would always walk with paper in her pocket, and Rowan usually had a pen. They used sign language in more formal occasions, usually when her parents or his dad would tell them that bluntly sharing notes on the table while ignoring everyone else was impolite.

Rowan passed the note back, and Aelin smiled.

I can’t believe The Return of the King is out today. R u ready, Legolas?

Rowan’s terrible handwriting was right below hers. U only talked about this for six months. Ofc I am. And stop calling me Legolas.

Aelin eyed the teacher as she wrote a response, making sure that they weren’t calling any attention. It wouldn’t be the first time they got caught passing notes, and most times teachers weren’t really happy about Rowan and Aelin talking about The Mummy or The Goonies or anything else rather than learning math.

She passed the note to him, getting a response seconds later.

U love that I have nicknames for u. Shows the beauty in our friendship, Legolas. N Gods, u need to work on ur handwriting

U r a pain in the ass

Aelin was trying very hard not to smile, and was about to write another response when the teacher’s voice rang through the room.

“Aelin Galathynius and Rowan Whitethorn!” They both snapped their head up at the same time, and from the corner of her eye she saw Aedion trying to contain his laughter. “Again? I don’t understand how they let the two of you stay in the same classroom.”

Aelin heard Aedion snickering, and Lysandra too if the fake cough was any indication.

“The two of you are the bane of any teacher’s existence!”

“We don’t even talk out loud!”

“Galathynius!”

Aelin saw Rowan raising a fist to his mouth, faking a cough just like Lysandra had to hide his smile.

“The two of you are to stay after school today. If you’re so eager to play with paper during class, you can help me organize some files.”

Both Aelin and Rowan groaned, and Aelin was probably going to argue more had the teacher not turned back to the board. She continued the lesson as if nothing had happened.

It took less than a minute for Aelin to scribble something on the piece of paper, passing it to Rowan. When he saw the note, he shook his head in exasperation, but took it nonetheless. This time, when passing it back and forth, Rowan and Aelin were more careful to not call attention.

Can u believe it??? We r not even interrupting her

U don’t learn, do u?

Stop complaining. U r passing the not back to me. This is a group effort

Whatever u say, G.

Every time u play the bigger person in the friendship I want to shove my fist in ur mouth

“Oh, Gods, I can’t believe it! Seriously?” The teacher shouted again, staring at both of them.

Aelin tried to give an apologetic smile as Rowan closed his eyes and groaned.

—————————

November 2009

“Hey, Mr. and Mrs. Galathynius.” Rowan said, walking into the kitchen and grabbing an apple. “How are you two doing today?”

“I’m ok, sweetie. You?” Evalin asked, a maternal smile on her lips.

“Aelin is not home.” Rhoe said, looking up from his newspaper.

Rowan smirked. “I know.”

“I’m gonna start making you pay rent, boy.”

“Will you believe if I told you my dad said the same about Ace?” Rowan mused, taking a bite from his apple.

“I miss when you didn’t talk to us.” Rhoe said, turning to Evalin. “Don’t you miss when he didn’t talk to us?”

Evalin hit her husband on the shoulder. “You adore Rowan, stop being grumpy.”

“Yeah, you adore me, stop being grumpy.” Rowan’s smirk only widened as Rhoe’s eyes narrowed.

“My daughter’s arrogance is rubbing off on you.”

“If you can deal with Ace, you can deal with me.” Rowan replied. He motioned to the stairs, walking backwards as he still talked to Rhoe. “Now if you’ll excuse me, your daughter asked me to water her plants.”

“And then you leave.” Rhoe grunted.

“And then I will have a movie marathon in here with Ace when she comes back from Lysandra.”

“I mean it about the rent.”

Rowan only grinned, winking at Rhoe. “I’ll be in your daughter’s room.”

As he went up the stairs, Rowan heard Evalin laughing at Rhoe’s curse.

Rowan had been friends with Aelin for months before her parents even heard him saying a word. In the beginning, when there were people around them, they would talk through shared notes. Since the day Aelin asked him to hang out with her, they spent most of their time together. Everyday they would go to his or her house after school, she was always around him at school and now, almost ten years later, both of them remained as united as ever. More, even. They had reached a point in their friendship that there was little to no thing that they didn’t know about each other, that they couldn’t tell each other.

She never made him feel uncomfortable, never pressured him to talk when he didn’t feel like it. Rowan had always been a quiet kid, and Aelin had found that to be more of an extra thing she liked about him rather than an impediment in their friendship. She would say he was the stoic and intelligent silence to her witty and unstoppable words.

Aelin became part of his daily routine, and so did her parents. Rhoe and Evalin had always treated him as if he was family— Evalin as the loving mom and Rhoe as the very witty dad. He had never thought he would feel so comfortable around people that weren’t his family, but the Galathynius had gotten through all his barriers during the years.

Rowan entered Aelin’s room, throwing his bag and shoes at the floor by one of her bookcases.

“You know, if Aelin wasn’t completely insane, she would be watering you.” Rowan mumbled to the plants as he watered them. While she was a messy person overall, Aelin was very methodical with some things. Her books were always organized, she had crazy rituals for random things and a very strict schedule to water her plants.

He finished watering the plants, opening the curtains to allow some sunlight in. Unceremoniously, Rowan laid on Aelin’s bed, taking his phone out of his pocket.

“Your stupid plants have been watered.” Rowan announced when she picked up the phone. He put it on speaker, setting the device down on top of his stomach. “Where are you?”

“Left Lys’s a while ago, I’m at the supermarket. Anything you want?” Aelin said mindlessly. Rowan could picture her with the phone in between her shoulder and ear, attention focused on the products in front of her rather than on him.

“Celery.”

“Ok, I’ll buy popcorn.”

“I said celery.”

“I refuse to have a movie night with you if you’re gonna eat celery. That shit is disgusting.” She complained. “Besides, you’ll make me self conscious if you’re eating celery and I’m eating a bowl of chocolate. Be a good best friend.”

Rowan huffed a laugh, resting an arm above his eyes. “I don’t like chocolate, Ace.”

“If you had told me that years ago, I would have let Archer beat the shit out of you.” Aelin huffed, throwing something in the cart. “I’ll buy your stupid celery.”

“You love me.” Rowan smiled.

“You love me.” Aelin mimicked, her voice sounding stupid. “Shut the fuck up. And take a goddamn shower if you’re gonna stay in my bed.”

Rowan didn’t even take his arm away from his eyes, didn’t even ask how she knew he was sprawled in her bed. “Also, buy vodka.”

“I don’t hate you enough to let you have celery and vodka on a Tuesday night.” Although she tried to sound impatient, Rowan could picture the smile on her face. Imagining it, Rowan smiled too. “And I mean it, buzzard. Go take a shower.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Also go to hell.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Rowan was laughing when she ended the call abruptly. He remained laying down for a few moments before getting up, groaning. He was only half awake as he went to the bathroom, picked the stuff Aelin usually left for him under the counter and took a quick shower. It was a good thing they had grown up together, because Rowan though it was very unlikely he would ever have a friend with as much intimacy as he had with Ace. Things like showering on each other’s house, sharing beds and spending most of their time together seemed strange to Rowan when he thought about it with anyone but Aelin.

They had been through elementary school together. Had made their class selection in middle school together so they would end up in the same classes. Now, in their last year of high school, they still tried to coordinate their schedules. Rowan and Aelin were applying to the same colleges, and although they were focusing on different areas, both we’re going to law. There was no Aelin without Rowan, or Rowan without Aelin. Neither of them minded, and things were so natural that it had never been a problem.

Rowan grabbed some shorts he had left at her house during the summer and one of the shirts Aelin had stolen from him, dropping on the bed again. He promised himself he wouldn’t sleep, that he would wait for her so they could start the movies soon.

However, when Aelin arrived at home forty five minutes later, she had to bite her lip to keep herself from smiling. Rowan was asleep and, despite her absence, he had kept to his side of the bed. Aelin sighed, throwing her shoes and backpack where Rowan had thrown his. She went into the bathroom, changing from her jeans and crop top into one of Rowan’s old t-shirts and a pair of basketball shorts.

Part of her wanted to wake him up. It was almost October and they had to make the Lord of the Rings marathon now, because they wouldn’t have time during the next month due to the 31 days of Halloween movies challenge they always did. And yet, Rowan seemed so tired and calm, that Aelin merely climbed up the bed and immediately fell asleep by his side. When she woke up again hours later, she noticed that it was already sunset, meaning they had slept for at least three hours.

Aelin groaned softly, rubbing her eyes and turning to face Rowan. She nudged him gently with her knee until his eyes fluttered.

“Let me sleep.”

“We’re watching Lord of the Rings. Wake your hulking ass up.” Aelin murmured.

“Sleep.” Was all Rowan replied, eyes still closed.

“Don’t you want to see Legolas?” Aelin asked, a sly smile on her mouth.

At that, Rowan opened his eyes. He glared at her, each second his glare worsening as Aelin’s smile grew.

“The joke is not funny anymore.”

“Yes, it is.” Aelin was smiling so much it hurt her cheeks.

“Is your whole personality based on acting like a bitch?”

“Yes, you should be aware of that by now.” Aelin said, sitting up. “Come on, Ro. Like old times? We make the tent over the bed and watch the movies together. I’ll make Legolas jokes and you’ll sulk pretending I’m not damn funny. We’ll probably fall asleep during the last one and wake up tomorrow to find out the tent fell on top of us during the night. Just like when we were young.”

“You are not funny.” He grunted, but also sat up. He ran his hands through his hair, and Aelin watched every movement in silence. When he finally turned to her, she smiled at him. “And the tent always fell because you’re shit at following instructions and always set it up wrong.”

“I’m hilarious.”

“Nope.”

“You’re boring, I’m funny. It’s the very essence of our friendship.”

“No, I’m a prick and you’re an asshole. That’s the essence of our friendship.” He smirked a little at that, and Aelin narrowed her eyes.

“Remind again me why we are friends.” Aelin said sarcastically, getting up from the bed.

Rowan simply laid back, arms behind his head. “You kicked someones’s balls for me when we were eight. Always had a terrible temper.”

“My temper always helped your sorry ass.” Aelin came back from her closet with the tent sheets. “Little Rowan couldn’t throw a punch.”

“See?” Despite what Aelin was saying, Rowan grinned. “A fucking asshole through and through.”

As much as she tried to contain, Aelin smiled, a breathy laugh coming out. “Yea, sure. I’m an asshole. And yet you’re still here after ten years.”

Rowan’s grin became a soft smile, and he got up to help Aelin with the tent. “Of course I am. Can’t leave you all alone after a decade, can I, Ace? You wouldn’t know how to live without me.”

Aelin only rolled her eyes, huffing. She looked to the other side of the bed where Rowan was standing, holding the opposite side of the tent sheet.

Aelin then smiled when he winked at her.

———

June 2012

Since Rowan and Aelin had become friends, he had to hear that he and Aelin were each other’s half. He was what kept her grounded to Earth, and she was what kept him from having an awfully boring life. They were the perfect combination for best friends— one cautious and the other one reckless. Even Aelin would sometimes joke that Rowan was the prudent part of her.

In short, in their friendship, Rowan should be the smart one when it came to these situations.

And since he obviously wasn’t this time, it only made everything worse.

“I’m so happy to see you two!” Evalin said, hugging Rowan and then Aelin. “I feel like it has been ages.”

“Only a few months, mom.” Aelin said, a huge smile on her face. As much as she loved the freedom of living without her parents, Rowan knew she missed them dearly. “Me and Ro had so much to study, otherwise we would have come earlier.”

“College is a bitch.” Rowan added, earning a smile from Evalin and a wink from Aelin.

He quickly but discreetly averted his eyes from Aelin, looking at the house he had spent most of his time since third grade. His childhood and teenage years in that house had been happy and uncomplicated, only him and his best friend.

Things seemed everything but uncomplicated now, and Rowan wanted to punch himself every time he looked at Aelin and thought that maybe, just maybe, being more than friends wouldn’t be so bad. He couldn’t remember when the feeling started, nor could he understand how it could have grown so fast. He had always loved Aelin, but this was… it was different.

For most time, he tried to keep the feelings in check. He refused to distance himself from Ace, but he wouldn’t make a move either. They had been best friends for twelve years, and he wouldn’t throw all of that away only for the shot at a relationship.

“Me, Rhoe and Viktor will go out tonight, but we can all have lunch tomorrow.” Evalin was saying, looking at Rowan. He nodded, already knowing that from when he called his dad to let him know he was back in town. Evalin looked down at Aelin who was resting her head against her mother’s shoulder. “You two can stay here and order something.”

“Yeah, that was the plan.” Aelin said, leaving her mother’s embrace. She walked up to Rowan, resting her back against his chest. He tried his best to not perceptibly tense. He put his hands on her shoulders, trying to act casual. “Ro was thinking Thai.”

Evalin nodded, pointing to the kitchen with her thumb. “Jellybean, can you help me before you two go up? It’s something with the internet and you know how bad me and your father are with technology.”

Rowan smiled, and Aelin laughed. She walked up to her mom, turning around and walking backwards as she pointed at Rowan. “Don’t break anything.”

He rolled his eyes. “I have never.”

Aelin grinned. “Yes, you have.”

“That was you.” Rowan narrowed his eyes as Aelin entered the kitchen. “You broke it and put all the fault on me.”

She laughed, winking at him before disappearing.

Rowan stared after her, both glad and disappointed she wasn’t with him anymore. They were roommates and had almost every single class together, and so they spent most of their time with one another, meaning that Rowan knew that it was a stupid reaction. He shouldn’t be glad his best friend left, and he also shouldn’t immediately miss her.

Gods, he was pathetic.

Rowan’s head snapped up when he heard a chuckle from the stairs. When his eyes landed on Rhoe staring at him, he smiled.

“What’s up, old man?”

Rhoe’s smile turned into a grin as he went down the stairs. “Any reason why you were oogling my daughter, Whitethorn?”

Rowan’s heart stopped dead inside his chest, and he had to control his urge to cough, clear his throat, fidget or just straight up run. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Rhoe chuckled again, tapping Rowan on the shoulder. “You and Aelin were always terrible at lying when it was about your feelings for each other. Aelin was always great at pretending she hated the world when she was mad, but it was never convincing when she used to say she hated you because she was angry at you. It was all over her face and voice that it was a lie.”

Rowan shifted on his feet, crossing his arms. His restlessness made Rhoe smile even more. “You’re getting mad. Probably the age.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshiter, boy.” He announced, walking past Rowan to the kitchen. He was almost at the door when he turned back to Rowan, eyes strangely serious. “She wouldn’t say no, you know that, right?”

Rowan didn’t answer, only adverted his gaze. It was obvious someone would notice at some point, and it made sense it was Rhoe. Aelin’s dad had spent so much time with them throughout the years that if someone was gonna pick up on a change, it would be him.

“Wouldn’t say no to what?” Aelin asked, coming out of the kitchen with her mom. She quickly hugged her dad, giving him a kiss on the cheek before walking to Rowan. “And who’s she?”

“No one.” Rowan said, not taking his eyes away from Rhoe. He only smiled, winking at Rowan before hugging his wife.

“We’re leaving.” He announced, pulling Evalin to the doors. He looked directly at Rowan when he said the next words. “Behave.”

Rowan felt his whole face heating, and he wanted to tell Rhoe to fuck off. By the smile on his face, Rowan’s expression had taken care of it.

“Twelve years and you still think you can lie to me.” Aelin crossed her arms, looking up at him.

Rowan looked right back at her, and his heart skipped a beat as always. Rowan had always known Aelin was beautiful— it had never been an opinion, but a fact. With blonde honey hair, flawless creamy skin and a mouth that always seemed to be inching towards a smirk, Aelin could have been a model. Her body was just as attractive as her face, even though Rowan made sure he was always looking somewhere else other than below her neck.

Aelin Galathynius was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. And Rowan though she was also intelligent, and funny and wickedly interesting.

And he also knew that he was both very lucky and very unlucky. Lucky for having her as his best friend, unlucky for being completely in love with her.

Aelin usually wore heels, heeled boots or shoes that made her seem taller. Now, as she had discarded her shoes somewhere, she barely reached his chin. If Rowan ever had a death wish, he would tell her how adorable and non threatening she looked from his point of view.

“I have to keep trying, isn’t that right?” He grinned at her. She groaned, brushing past him. She started going upstairs, not turning around to see if he was following her.

Naturally, he was.

“Want to play twenty questions?”

“No.” Rowan answered, throwing himself at her bed.

Aelin crossed her arms, frowning down at him as she sat on the bed. “Stop being a little bitch.”

“The game is pointless. I know everything about you and you know everything about me.” Rowan noted, putting his arms in the back of his head. “What the fuck would you even ask?”

“What’s your favorite color?” Aelin asked, a grin on her face.

Rowan snorted.

“It’s ok, I know the answer. It’s me.”

“You?” He raised an eyebrow.

Aelin smirked, pushing herself to sit down closer to Rowan. Her hips were touching his waist, and Rowan was trying very hard to concentrate. “I’m your favorite everything, buzzard.”

Rowan merely laughed, not commenting on how right she was.

“Your turn.”

He rolled his eyes, but asked nonetheless. “You’ve been stressed out lately?” He smiled when Aelin groaned. She had spent the whole drive from the university to the house complaining about how stressful classes were and that she was about to drop everything and try to marry rich. “Yeah, me too.”

They were just making questions that they already knew the answer, exactly like Rowan had said.

Aelin raised her eyebrows suggestively, wiggling her shoulders. “Are you a virgin?”

Rowan choked on a laugh. He knew Aelin knew he wasn’t. “Yes, and I actually plan on dying one. College is already fucking me enough for a lifetime.”

Aelin guffawed, throwing her head back. Rowan smiled at her, his eyes trailing the slope of her neck. When she looked back at him, Rowan wasn’t so reluctant to keep playing this game if it meant Aelin would keep laughing. “Do you ever regret dating Cortland?”

Aelin groaned, and Rowan smiled. “Exes are prohibited here.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Stop smiling.”

“He was a bitch. I wanted to punch him whenever he went out with us.”

“Careful, Whitethorn,” Aelin mused with a grin. “Or you’ll start sounding jealous.”

Rowan scoffed. “Just ask your next question.”

“If you could take me anywhere in time, where would we go?”

Rowan stayed in silence for a few seconds before replying. “1999.”

Aelin’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“I would have liked for you to meet my mom.”

Aelin felt her whole body constricting and warming at the same time. Through some nerve, she grabbed Rowan’s hand, sweeping her thumb gently on top of his knuckles. “I would have loved to meet her.”

Rowan very rarely talked about his mom, and Aelin knew him enough to know she shouldn’t push the conversation. In the twelve years they had been friends, Rowan only occasionally would talk about his mother. Aelin had so many questions about how she was, what their relationship had been like, but she also loved Rowan more than she was curious, so she never asked if h didn’t provide the information himself.

Rowan smiled up at Aelin, and it was filled with so much love and mourning that Aelin felt her heart skipping a beat. “You would have loved her. She was your type of person.”

Aelin smiled softly at him. Without thinking any further, she laid down in bed, resting her head on Rowan’s chest and their joint hands on top of his stomach. Rowan’s free hand started massaging her scalp, and Aelin closed her eyes as she breathed Rowan’s scent in.

“Do you think she would have liked me?”

“Oh, yes.” Aelin could hear the smile on his voice. “She would have loved you. You are exactly the type of person she wanted me to be close to. She always said I was too cautious, too calm. I needed some recklessness in my life, and since I mostly refused to go out during myself childhood and be reckless by myself, my mom thought that having a friend like that would be perfect. She would have adored your personality, and how important you were in my life.”

“She sounds amazing.”

“She was.” Rowan breathed.

“No wonder you turned out like this.” Aelin said and immediately felt Rowan gripping her tighter.

“Thanks, Fireheart.”

Aelin smiled, opening her eyes and looking up at him. Rowan was staring at her, and Aelin winked at him. “Whenever you need some ego boosting, Ro.”

He chuckled, still massaging her hair. “If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?”

“I like it here.” Aelin tried shrugging. She felt Rowan tensing, and a part of her wondered if she had said something wrong. She didn’t want to ponder on it, didn’t want to think about what it meant and how it would make her feel if it was true. Instead, she just changed the subject. “My turn. What were you and my dad talking about? And who is she?”

The question only made Rowan tense further, and Aelin raised, holding herself on her elbows as she looked down on him. “Nothing and no one.”

“Bullshit.” She spat, narrowing her eyes. “If you don’t want to tell me, fine. But don’t lie to me, Rowan.”

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “It’s nothing you would like to know.”

“Are you seeing someone?”

Rowan looked directly into her eyes, and Aelin resisted the urge to shift under his gaze. “Would that be something you wouldn’t like to know, Aelin?”

Aelin felt her heart beating stronger inside her chest, each beat sounding so loud that it was a wonder Rowan hadn’t heard it too. She refused to think about the question, just like for the last months she had tried ignoring every similar question when it came to Rowan.

No, she wouldn’t like to hear that. At all.

Instead of telling him that, she just shrugged. “Are you?”

“Careful, Galathynius,” Rowan repeated the same words she had said minutes ago. This time, however, there was no humor on his voice. “Or you’ll start sounding jealous.”

Aelin rolled her eyes, forcing a snort out. The conversation had taken a completely different path than she had originally intended. It was enough to get on the bad side of her temper, and before she could even think about what she was saying, she raised her chin and replied. “What if I am?”

Rowan’s eyes widened ever so slightly, and Aelin wanted to punch herself. He stared at her in silence for what seemed to be an eternity. “Are you?”

She had fucked up, she knew that. Rowan had been the closest person to her for more than a decade, and even if she lied and said no, he would know the truth. She knew that she should have kept her mouth shut, should have dropped the subject. She had spent months trying to make sure Rowan wouldn’t even suspect that she was interested in him in a more than friendly way.

And she had fucked that up with a stupid teenager game.

There was no going back anymore, and maybe because of this Aelin felt confident enough to do what she had been aching to do for a while now.

She didn’t stop to think about how things would be after this, didn’t stop to think about what Rowan’s widening eyes meant as she brought her face down and pressed her lips against his.

Rowan was like a stone under her, and Aelin moved her lips softly on top of his. There was a voice in her head screaming at her, telling her to pull back and try to fix the friendship. She was going to do just that when she felt Rowan raising his hands, putting them on her hair as he kissed her back.

Rowan rolled on his side, one of his hands sneaking down to Aelin’s back to pull her against him. Aelin laid on the bed, one of her hand going to the back of Rowan’s head, her fingers playing with his hair.

Aelin bit Rowan’s lower lip, moaning when he opened his mouth, tongue sweeping over hers. She pressed herself against him, one of her legs intertwining with his.

“Ro.” Aelin breathed, arching her neck as Rowan kissed the expanse of her throat and collarbones. One of his hands sneaked inside her shirt, palm cupping her breast as the other one gripped her hair more tightly. Aelin ran her hands through his back, coming back through his front until she was cupping his face.

Aelin raised Rowan’s face back to her, kissing him deeper than she had before. Rowan’s tongue entered her mouth, and Aelin’s mind emptied of any thought that wasn’t about him. About his hand against her breast, fingers in her hair. All her focus was on how he was making her feel, and Aelin felt completely intoxicated by him.

Rowan put one of his legs in between Aelin’s thighs, pressing it against her middle as Aelin grinded her hips softly against him.

“Ace, do you—“ Rowan was breathing against her mouth, but was interrupted when they both heard the main door opening and voices filing in.

“I can’t believe you forgot you wallet, Rhoe!”

Aelin raised her head immediately, eyes widening when she saw the bedroom’s door open and heard her parents coming up the stairs. She rolled over Rowan, almost falling off the bed as she ran to the door and closed it louder than she intended to. She closed her eyes, putting her back against the door as she heard one set of the footsteps going in the direction of her parent’s room. The other one stopped in front of her door, and a hesitant knock sounded.

“Is everything alright, Aelin?” Her mom’s voice seemed more curious than confused.

“Yeah.” She answered, trying not to sound too breathless. “You guys are already back?”

“Dad forgot his wallet. We just came to pick it up but we are already leaving.”

“You sure you’re ok, Ae?” Her dad asked, having come back from his room.

“Yeah, yeah. We’re fine. Rowan just has a terrible habit of not closing the door after his tail enters the room.”

Aelin heard her dad and mom laughing. “Ok the, jellybean. We’re out again, we’ll see you later or in the morning.”

“Love you guys!” Aelin shouted as she heard her parents’ footsteps going down the stairs. She remained with her eyes closed until she heard the front door opening and losing again, and only then she opened them again.

Rowan was sitting on the bed, eyes stuck on her face. His cheeks were pinkish, lips swollen and hair a mess. Aelin supposed she wasn’t too much better.

They stared at each other in complete silence until Aelin cleared her throat, pushing her hair back from her face.

“Well if this isn’t a fucking surprise for both of us.”

——————

October 2016

Aelin though that the rice on the ground looked like snow.

Among the screams all around her, she could hear the church bells ringing, the soft song playing on the background.

She looked to her right, watching her newly husband grin at some of his friends from uni.

They both had wanted a small wedding, but both Rowan and Aelin’s parents insisted that they needed a big ceremony, something big enough to encompass their whole relationship.

Rowan turned to her, grin only widening as he realized she was smiling at him. “What are you looking at?”

Aelin shook her head, eyes closing when she felt Fenrys and Aedion throwing more of that rice thing on them. “Nothing.”

Rowan laughed, hugging her as they walked to their car. “Sixteen years and you still think you can lie to me, Mrs. Whitethorn.”

Aelin held Rowan’s face in her hands, kissing him deeply and lovingly before drawing back, a smile never leaving her face. “I have to keep trying, isn’t that right, babe?”

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @maastrash @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass @annejulianneh111 @heirofthenightcourt @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommessblog @yesdreamblog

273 notes · View notes

anothertimdrakestan · 3 years

Text

Damijon Christmas Present!

FOR THE DAMIJON SECRET SANTA I HAD... @nymph-patt

dear nymph:

hi love! i haven’t written in a fat minute and i’m a little rusty so bear with me hehehe. i hope you have a wonderful holiday season! all my love -elle!

I’ve got a fluff christmas fic and a lil headcanon for ya!

Merry Stress-mas

“You can’t plan Christmas like a battle strategy Dami,” Jon groaned as Damian wheeled a whiteboard into their living room. “Actually, I’ve found it to be quite similar. Pay attention Kent, I know sticking to the plan has never been your strong suit.” Damian’s foot was tapping like crazy, Jon noted his clear anxiousness- needless to say Damian wasn’t the holiday type. Makes it a million times harder when it’s your first Christmas together as a couple.

*super-couple.

Jon gasped as Damian flipped the whiteboard like a school teacher, revealing meticulously drawn out plans mapped in expo-marker. “We start with my family, we stay until Jason is ten shots in, after that Christmas always becomes a nightmare so we head out. With your super speed it’ll be only an 14 minutes 37 second trip to your family where we stay for the majority of the night. At the end you rush us back to Gotham to console Dick after Bat-Christmas fails as always. Our emergency word is tyrannosaurus should anything go wrong at the drop we flee. Any questions?” Damian was flying through the plans, pointing at bulleted lists and analyzing possible flaws.

Jon took a deep breath, a smile creeping over his face. “I didn’t think you’d care so much about our first Christmas together with our families, it’s kind of sweet.” Lazily he reached for Damian, clinging to his back while Dami shook his head, mumbling as he edited the board. “Not really our first Christmas Kent and I definitely do not care about family tt,” Jon didn’t reply, he just smiled into the crook of Damian’s neck.

“Our suits bring down our aerodynamic potential so I’ve taken the liberty of adjusting our arrival time to 15 minutes 43 seconds. Does that sound accurate?” Jon hummed in response as he straightened Damian’s tie, it was already perfect but he’d take any excuse to get closer to Dami. “Ready my love?” Jon glanced at Damian who was checking his watch. “Yes.” Damian responded, absent mindedly clasping Jon’s hand as they made their way to the mansion.

“DAMI’S HERE!” Steph’s screech announced. She was hanging off the banister as she stole popcorn pieces from the massive tree. “Wonderful- Miss Brown I must ask you don’t eat the decorations tonight, have some festivity,” Alfred shook his head as he made his way to Jon. “Magnificent of you to join us Master Kent, I assume you will also be heading to your family’s festivities as well?” Jon opened his mouth but Damian answered first. “Yes Pennyworth, we plan on just saying for hors devours,” his curt reply brought a knowing smile to Alfred’s lips. “Always planned with you Master Damian,” his accent was playful making Jon chuckle.

Dick descended the stairs, Damian groaned at his bright green and red striped suit, Jon couldn’t help but laugh either. “Hellllooo super boyfriends! Are-You-Readyyyy-For-Tonight!” Dick practically skipped towards the two, pulling them into a tight hug before Damian could slip away. “We won’t be long Grayson we must attend the Kent family Christmas too,” Damian nodded curtly, shifting closer to Jon who got the message and moved forward into the living room.

“Actually, where are all the bat-siblings? And where did Steph run off to?” Jon noticed no one was around but Alfred who was preparing something delicious in the kitchen. Dick began chuckling, a devilish smile spreading across his face. “Oh, everyone is down in the batcave. C’mon.” Damian looked taken-aback but Jon was never to shocked by batfamily-antics.

The two followed Dick to the secret door. “Now, we heard from a little super birdy [Dick winked at Jon who was now openly grinning] that you were a little nervous about having to deal with two Christmas’ this year, so we felt it’d be easier for everyone if we just-” Dick popped open the door to a winter wonderland of a batcave. A large table was put out, filled with their family members. “Merry Christmas!” A chorus of laughter broke out as Damian’s jaw dropped.

At the table were the batfam, Kents, and even a couple speedsters littered around. All were laughing and smiling at one another. It was the biggest family gathering Jon has seen ever. “No need for crazy plans my love, just enjoy tonight with everyone,” Jon whispered to Damian as he scanned the room. “I- How did you- Thank you,” Damian settled on the last words of praise for the wonderful man who made every single day better. “No need for thanks, I’d get you the world if you wanted it, but for now let’s have a very Merry Christmas!” Jon took off towards his family and Damian would help but feel the corners of his lips betray him with a smile. Heart full he made his way down to his family.

“JASON DO NOT FLIRT WITH KARA SHE’S OFF LIMITS!”

“WALLY DID YOU EAT ALL THE COOKIES ALREADY?”

“BRUCE, CLARK, STOP FIGHTING OVER WHO GOT THE OTHER THE BETTER GIFT. YOU’RE BOTH RICH!”

very merry indeed.

Okay so I haven’t absorbed much batfam content at all for weeks so hopefully my spin on the HC is still cute : )

I don’t think Jon gets enough credit for how observant he is.

Too often Jon is forgotten, the second super boy, the sidekick, the boyfriend, the man who left everyone for space.

It’s true, technically. But Jon is so keen at reading those around him, especially the un-readable Damian Wayne that I would argue it’s a super skill in of itself.

He gets it from his mother you know, Superman was always a little dense, but, though no one believes it, he always had Lois to help him out. Too often the quieter, smarter, more analytical side gets forgotten and that’s no different with Jon. His friends don’t see the way he checks up on them, taking in their facial expressions and reading them to know the right thing to say at the right time to help them out. They don’t realize he spent whole days memorizing their heart beats and their breaths to know if they’re ever in peril. And they don’t see the way he looks at them so fondly, beyond grateful they’re in his life.

Lois sees it.

She saw it when Jon met Damian.

A young boy mesmerized by the wittiness and strength in the human boy. The greatest irony, the Superboy more human than the murder weapon now called “Robin”. But the two hit it off almost instantly- though Damian may not agree to that last bit.

Lois knew Jon adored Damian, every deep red was “Robin Red” every Wayne Ent. building they walked past brought up stories of his adventures with the youngest Wayne, every Justice League trip meant begging for his dad to send him to Gotham for the weekend while he was out. He was young, but Lois knew a pair of soulmates when she saw them.

There were these nights when they were teens. Jon would burst out of bed and rush to his mother. He never needed to say anything. There was this look in his eyes, Damian needs me. “Go” she’d always whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead thinking back to when Clark would do the same for her.

She remembers the frantic December weeks Jon spent toiling on Damian’s Christmas gift. “What do I give a trillionaire who has the world?” Jon would whine and mope around the house for any semblance of inspiration.

Your heart Jon, all he wants is your love. Lois always thought to herself, she was quite aware of the two boy’s growing infatuation with each other, her husband was always slower in the “feelings” department and if he was slow she imagined Bruce was a damn sloth. So, she let the boys feel safe in her presence. Damian slowly spent more time at her home when Clark was out, she grew to have a sort of friendship with Damian. He’d comment on whatever news article she recently wrote, endure a three second reply and be on his way. She was always astounded at how up to date he was on all her pieces.

Lois was always proud of the love Jon showed Damian. She’d be the first to tell Bruce he needed to hug his damn kids, but there was a special kind of caring Jon held only for Damian. A love woven only for the two of them. Like an invisible string linking them no matter where in the universe the other was at, there was a friendship, a kindness, a passion, a love.

Overtime, Jon’s analysis of Damian led him to his own feelings. And over an even longer period of time Damian discovered his own. Jon never stopped caring, he never stopped worrying, and he never stopped loving.

Those, are the parts of Superman that Damian, and the world, need most.

Merry Christmas! <3

#damijon #jondami #shoutout whelm for putting this together u rock #damian wayne #jon kent #damian wayne x jon #damian x jon #damian wayne x jon kent #batfam #batfam christmas #batboys #batboys christmas #lois lane #superboy #superboy headcanon #damijon headcanon #jon kent headcanon

125 notes · View notes

twdmusicboxmystery · 3 years

Text

TWD 10x19: More Stuff Pointing to Beth’s Imminent Return

Morning Everyone! As you can see, these are just a few more odds and ends about 10x19 that I didn’t cover yesterday. It’s not so much details or not details as just things I didn’t get around to in my first post, which was already very long. So, in no particular order, here goes.

***As always, spoilers abound below for 10x19. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

First off, there were several Beth references that didn’t occur to me until I was watching the episode live.

Gabriel’s whole speech about how the bible is “still” important.

He gives Mays this rundown about how the word of God is still important and applicable. How it’s a beacon of light in an otherwise very dark world.

Now, I’m sure lots of people picked up on this as a Beth reference. Talk of the bible. Talk of light in the darkness. These are symbols that have definitely been used around her before. But what struck me upon rewatching it was the way he said it was “still” important. It can be directly linked to her “I still sing.” And if you analyze both conversations, both are about transcendence, rather than just surviving.

Mays fires his gun at the little office, and then only afterward, tells Gabriel Aaron is inside and asks, “do you think he made it?”

Guys, this is subtle, but this is a huge parallel of Beth. Think about it. Aaron being in the office could almost represent a tomb of some kind. He’s tied up (imprisonment). Mays shoots the gun (bullets). Then asks, “Do you think he made it?” When he goes to check, he says, “looks like he’s still breathing.” And then, when he brings Aaron out, he’s bleeding from a wound in the left side of his forehead. Exactly same place as where Beth was shot.

I can’t believe it took me like 3x watching the episode to pick that up, lol.

Gabriel’s story about his mentor

I felt like this had to be important, but it was hard for me to say how. And even now, I don’t think I have it all pinned down, but it may not matter. This speech may actually be more about Gabriel and his character than anything else.

I did wonder if the mentor in his story could represent Rick. It doesn’t all fit in detail (Rick’s not the biggest people person out there, lol) but there was a time when Rick really didn’t like Gabriel and wouldn’t give him the time of day (understandably) but eventually Gabriel earned his trust and they did become friends. Even if I’m right that this represents Rick, I’m not sure what the point of having this speech here is. It’s probably the kind of thing I’ll have to return to.

As always, I wanted to relate it to Beth, but I wasn’t sure how. I did feel somewhat justified in looking for TD clues here, not only because the episode is so heavy in them, but because right before Gabriel starts relating the story about his mentor, he says, “I’m serious.” And there were a few small clues, such as talk of driving 80 mph (Beth’s been missing 8 years in the show). But that’s pretty small.

But the one big reference that got me kind of excited was the funeral reference. He talked about going to a funeral with his mentor. While there have obviously been other funerals, the one really big one we saw Gabriel preside over was Tyreese’s in 5x09. A huge Beth episode, where we actually saw the number 8 next to her. And we have to assume, if TF tried to bury Beth, that he would have presided there, too. We just haven’t seen that, yet.

But here’s what got me. Even though Gabriel says this was the funeral of the young man, he said he was a college kid. And while Beth never went to college that we know, in Still Daryl did accuse her of looking for hooch like some dumb college bitch.

So, between that and all the other callbacks and references in this episode, I do think this was a subtle reference to her and perhaps to her “funeral” that we never saw. I’m unsure why they’ve put it here or how it’s supposed to function for us, but I think that will become more clear as the story progresses.

TTD:

I’m not going to do a separate Talking Dead post this week, because there just wasn’t tons to point to in this episode. Basically, there were three things that jumped out at me.

1. Ross Marquand mentioned the three people exiled from Alexandria in S5. And it seemed like a really random reference to bring up. I’m not sure why he did. For one thing, it’s a callback to S5. But that thing about those three being exiled was never hugely resolved. I know a couple of them were meant to be the walkers Aaron and Maggie found in the sewer, but still. It feels unresolved to me, and him bringing them up randomly here felt significant.

2. The Golf Sequence. So, I mentioned the golf parallels in the episode yesterday, but apparently there was a much larger, extended golf sequence where Aaron and Gabriel put together a whole mini golf course, but it got cut from the episode for time. So, not a big deal. It’s just that there would have been MUCH larger golf parallels in this episode if they could have included them.

3. The writer talked about how, at the end of the episode, where we see Gabriel and Aaron heading toward he water tower, there’s a dark, ominous forest between them and the water tower, and anything might happen in there. So, it sounds like this story with the two of them isn’t exactly over, and we’ll probably see another episode about the two of them in S11.

Alright, I said yesterday I’d talk about where this is going. It still sounds like one of these two might die, and you know I lean toward it being Gabriel. I did have a few people message me and point out that Aaron putting a gun to his head might foreshadow his death, and that’s a possibility. I can’t deny it. Honestly, I don’t follow the symbolism around either of these characters (except where it indicates Beth) closely enough to make an educated prediction here. But I do still lean toward it being Gabriel. Mostly because, as I’ve said before, he’s the Sirius character. And there’s one more thing that may indicate this.

The Bible Passage Gabriel Looks At:

I talked yesterday about how Gabriel opened one of the bibles and we could see the passage. It’s 1 Samuel: 1-21. Read the passage HERE.

Now, this passage basically talks about two things. This is where a new king needs to be crowned, and that king will eventually be David. First, the prophet (Samuel) goes to Bethlehem to offer up a sacrifice so the Lord will show him who is to be the new king.

Just the fact that we’re talking about a sacrifice, and it’s Gabriel reading the passage, screams death omen to me.

Also remember that both because of the cross she wore in the hallway at Grady, and because of Gabriel’s (yes, Gabriel’s) strange words to Sasha in 5x16 about “sacrificing one of your own,” Beth is often seen as a symbolic sacrifice of some kind. (I even think his white shirt in 5x16 could point toward him being a sacrifice, but that’s a whole other theory.)

Back to the bible reference. So the second thing that’s done here is that each of Jessie’s sons is brought before the prophet so he can tell which one the Lord has anointed to be king, but he doesn’t choose any of them, saying the Lord is telling him that the king is not among them. He asks if these are all of Jessie’s sons, to which they reply that the youngest (David) is not present.

Now, if you know anything of the bible, David does become king, but they didn’t think to bring him before the prophet here, because they just didn’t think he was “king” material. David was a shepherd. He was humble. He was a poet and a bard.

Yes, you read that right. David sang. He actually sang very beautifully. Tended to totally mesmerize the court with his singing.

Sound like that could be a Beth parallel to you?

In this passage, David is not crowned king, but he is anointed to be king one day. I also notice that the page Gabriel looks at says 1 Sam 16:21, which just means verse 21 is the last verse on that page. Verse 21 ends with David basically living by and learning from the current king, Saul.

Just reminds me of Rick declaring Beth the “new sheriff in town” and how we’ve always said she’ll be his protégé.

So, all I’m saying is that I think this passage suggests both a sacrifice of some kind, and the coming of a new “king” (read: sheriff) that has a lot of things in common with Beth. And since it’s Gabriel who opens the bible, it makes sense that he’ll be the one to die as or just before she arrives. Just saying.

Okay, that’s all I have for today. I’ll get to some Asks tomorrow.

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

17 notes · View notes

knickynoo · 3 years

Note

It may be a bit redundant with your other ask, but were you to write one book in the BttF verse without it being set anywhere or time in the actual movies (in-between shots are fine, but no canon scenes can be in it), what would it be about?

Hmm...this is a good one. Honestly, I would love to write a book filled with a collection of “snapshots” of the character’s lives, pre-time travel. I’m definitely someone who likes to dive deep into characters’ backgrounds & analyze. (I mean, one look at this blog would give that away, lol) I’m totally the type of person who wants to put things under a microscope and know why something happened the way it did, why someone acted a certain way, etc. I pick things apart, study body language, look in the backgrounds of scenes, and things like that. I find all those small details and moments so interesting.

So, I would find it really fun to bypass a larger, “cohesive” story and simply focus in on several quieter events, like...

• A day in the life of the McFlys, maybe when Marty was around 7 or 8. Taking a look at the dynamic between everyone, particularly with the siblings, and how George and Lorraine interacted with each other and with their youngest child. Part of me imagines that things were a lot better back then, only declining steadily as the kids got older. Another part of me imagines that it was always like what we see at dinner, and Marty’s known nothing other than completely detached parents. I can’t decide which is sadder. Both would be cool to explore.

• Marty (“present day” ‘85) at school. Just like...writing about his experience there. How he gets along and interacts with classmates (my personal headcanon is that Marty is pretty much a loner whose only real connections are Jennifer and Doc), his run-ins with Strickland, etc.

•Lots of Marty and Doc stories, with them just hanging out, working on projects and whatnot. I do not think I need to tell anyone who has ever looked at my blog how I feel about their friendship. And while we see some great moments in the movies, it would be so nice to write more. Maybe something emphasizing how much Doc’s garage is a safe haven for Marty. Maybe a snippet showing the deeper side of their friendship, with the two of them having a Serious Talk about something. Idk. Listen, I write BTTF fanfic (haven’t posted anything, just doing it for fun right now, and to see if I can) and it’s like 80% the found family trope with Marty and Doc.

• Probably some stuff with Jennifer. We don’t really know anything about her childhood or family, so it would be fun to write about her since I’d be able to come up with pretty much whatever.

Looking at this list, none of it is actually...exciting. Back to the Future is so full of adventure and action, and TIME TRAVEL and here I am like, “I’d like to write a story about Doc and Marty having a heart to heart in Burger King.” LOL. Thanks for the ask!

#asks #back to the future #bttf #i probably COULD come up with something adventure-y if I wanted to #i just love exploring day to day life and emotions and what makes characters tic

15 notes · View notes

danganronpasurvivoraskblog · 4 years

Text

The Devil’s Eye.

Kaede was kidnapped!?

She...she remembered some things...Things that I didn’t want her to remember...

And when she remembered, she ran away...Out on the street...And that van drove up and those people in masks took her away...

Can you describe them? Other than their faces I mean...

One of them was about 5 foot, and the other was probably about 6 feet...Those outfits hid any sort of physical attribute they had, other than their height...

But they weren’t wearing gloves, which gives me a little bit of hope about our situation.

How do you figure?

Well, that means we can dust Kaede for fingerprints?

...

It was a joke. Well, mostly.

I do think we should dust for fingerprints, but not Kaede. Whoever drove that van might’ve left their prints on the wheel.

Of course, we’ll need to find the van first, but for a group of Phantom Thieves, these guys are pretty much amateurs...

Oh, yeah, you said you used something called the “Devils Eye” but...what exactly is that?

Chihiro. If I give you these to analyze, can you do it while I explain it to Shuichi?

*She hands her a USB.

Sure, but...analyze what?

The footage on that file shows the license plate of the car they stashed De-De in and some other info. If you analyze it, you might be able to track it.

Alright. I’ll give it to Alter Ego to process.

Leave it to me!

*Chihiro heads to the giant computer in her office where Alter Ego sits comfortably, and begins to analyze the video footage Setsuka gave her.

Where did you even get this video? You didn’t have a video camera on you when Kaede was taken.

Right, well, sit tight and prepare for Detective Setsuka’s tragic backstory.

How long is this story?

Long enough for Chihiro to get that info checked. You don’t have an awful lot else to do, right?

I-I suppose not...

Ok, so, I don’t know if I mentioned this, but when I went to Hope’s Peak Academy as a kid, I was entered as the Ultimate Billiards Player.

Billiards is...a sport, right? I’m not exactly a sports person, sorry...

It’s fine. Billiards is any sport like Pool or Snooker that’s generally played with a cue stick, which is used to strike balls and thereby cause them to move around a cloth-covered billiards table bounded by elastic bumpers known as cushions. The goal of most of these games is to knock the balls into 6 different holes positioned equally around the table.

My dad was a famous Billiards player, which made me want to start a career in the sport. But one day, I was heading to the place where one of my dads tournaments were being held when...

I kinda got into a car accident.

Accident!? Were you ok!?

Well, I’m not dead am I?

A-Actually, scratch that...I forgot I WAS dead until recently...

But no, the accident didn’t kill me...though it did a number on my face...I had to go through surgery.

I’m not sure if I could say the surgery was a success or a failure. One one hand, I lived, but on the other, my right I was badly ruptured...

The Doctor’s solution? An eye transplant surgery or surgery to replace my eye with an artificial one, to stop me going blind.

Eye transplant!? I-Is that even possible!?

Well, I’ve been gone for a while, so I don’t really know how much the world has changed...But at the time, no it wasn’t. No one had ever even attempted it before.

Naturally, both my parents were avidly against the idea. They’d rather me go blind instead of undergo the almost impossible transplant...

So...what happened?

They did it anyway...

Why!?

No clue, but hey, it worked...mostly.

“Mostly?”

Well, there WAS some side-effects...mainly...

The replacement eye was able to record everything to my memory, basically giving me a video camera in my head that played back memories over and over again.

S-Seriously?

It sounds ridiculous, I know, but I’m telling you the truth...

N-No, I believe you...I’ve definitely seen more ridiculous things in my life...

But the eye also comes with some downsides...For example, I get really dizzy if I open both eyes because I’m seeing the past and present at the same time...

I’m more open about it now, prior to my death on Utsuroshima, only three people ever found out. My parents and Sora. I’m sure you’ve heard of Sora, right?

Once or twice from Yoruko, yes.

Alright, well, continuing on, it wasn’t soon after that I entered the world of billiards. Pretty soon, I was winning against pros, and even became one of the youngest players to win a world tournament. I was destined to improve my talent, and then Hope’s Peak scouted me. I was at the top of my game...

And then the game turned on me...

What happened?

The truth about my recording eye eventually came out. I was found out to be cheating and...I was banned from the billiards community for life, had to pay numerous fines and whatnot for what I’d done...

And naturally, I was expelled from Hope’s Peak too...

...Wow...That is...

Yeah, well, it happened. I didn’t care paying the price, but I was more worried about the people around me...

I had a girlfriend at the time, and I had to leave her behind...She’s probably dead by now...

Setsuka I...

What happened to Ms Chiebukuro? You’re growing up Saihara, I’m proud of you.

Ah...s-sorry, it kind of slipped out.

That’s fine, don’t apologize. But I’m gonna call you Shu from now on so we can get even.

Anything’s better than Pooichi, so alright...

Things were pretty rough from that point on...I avoided my family and old friends...I started drinking and smoking. I stopped drinking, thankfully, but I still smoke even now...

By the time the tragedy came around, I’d started training to be a detective, which usually involved me following people around and using my Devil’s Eye to my advantage.

Eventually, the Kisaragi Foundation reached out to me, and recruited me into their ranks to investigate Mikado Sannoji and the VOID’s...

Buuut...I got kidnapped and forced into the killing game...and the rest is history...

Wow...That’s quite a story...

Glad you enjoyed it. And just in time too...Looks like Fuji’s done.

We are. Alter Ego? Show them.

We’ve tracked the van and it’s recipient to this location.

*Alter Ego shows a map of the city on the screen, with a red blinking dot showing in a suburban area.

This is where the van was last spotted on public security cameras and eyewitness repots.

Then I’m headed there now.

Need any backup?

It’d be great if you could pull a team together, but we’re low on time. I need to save her and I need to go now...!

We’ll do what we can on our end.

Yeah, and I’ll see if I can rope some of my buddies in this one.

*Setsuka pats Shuichi on the shoulder.

Go kick their ass.

Will do.

#danganronpa survivor #danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa 1 #dr1 #danganronpa another 2 #sdra2 #shuichi saihara #setsuka chiebukuro #chihiro fujisaki #alter ego #the amnesiac and the alter ego arc

15 notes · View notes

luna-almighty-god · 4 years

Text

Guardian Angel N°6 [The result of our mistakes, the consequences we feared]

Hello everyone, this is chapter six !

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

====

When he looked at the child who was playing a little further away, Nyx found himself smiling. Smiling painfully, his soul squeezing together in spite of himself, in spite of the fact that he only wanted to be happy, that he only wanted to enjoy the view.

Because PaperJam did not deserve to be hated. Far from it.

Oh, Nyx knew he was a voyeur, a little too much so. No wonder people thought he was a stalker. But he couldn't stop this ugly mania from resurfacing, from pushing him to hide in the shadows to analyze, examine, spy without the slightest guilt.

He wasn't doing anything wrong after all, was he? He laughed at the thought, thinking himself ridiculous, but mostly in bad faith. One more thing he and his father had in common. One more thing in common that made him grind his teeth.

He shook his head, returned to his observation of PaperJam.

The announcement of his birth had reached Nyx's ear canals without much trouble. After all, the black-boned skeleton was particularly attentive to everything that was going on in the multiverse, especially since his little "adventure" with Nightmare and Ink. And it was hard to ignore the fact that Error, the Destroyer of the World, and Ink, the guardian of those same worlds, were finally a happy couple who had given birth to a child: PaperJam.

Nyx had come to observe the fruit of this union. This child, this small adorable skeleton, who was currently heckling in the snow in company of Fresh, another inhabitant of the multiverse and incidentally brother of Error.

PaperJam, who was only a few months old, had the size and abilities of a six-year-old child. No wonder: he had been created by the accidental fusion of his two parents' magics. It was crazy to see how much he resembled them, and deep down, deep down...

[ Nyx hated it ]

He petrified. No, he didn't. No, he couldn't think that. He couldn't look so bitterly at that child. He couldn't blame him for being born, for existing. He couldn't blame anyone. After all, he knew it would happen. He knew the Creator and the Destroyer would eventually start a family.

Nyx had only hoped it would take longer.

Damn it, man...

He gritted his teeth, clutching his scarf with force. His soul pulsed faster, much too fast, with emotions he hated. Negativity that he was struggling to master.

Shit, man... Shit... (sighs) !

He shook his head, closed his eyes, tried to divert his mind from his foul thoughts. He hated himself for thinking like that, he hated himself for being angry at people who had done nothing. He was the culprit, the one and only culprit. He, uh...

He blew, gently opened his eyes, his fists clenched. He'd better go now...

He straightened his head, ready to teleport further away to open a portal .... And froze. He froze in front of that pink, yellow and blue look in his eyes. That look of innocence and curiosity that had been planted in his eyes, staring intrigued at him. PaperJam looked at him.

Nyx flinched. No, he must have been imagining things, it was impossible for the child to see him. After all he was just a shadow, a shadow hidden in the darkness, invisible to anyone's eyes. It was impossible that...

But it had to be when Fresh turned away from the child to get them a snack. It was obvious when PaperJam took advantage of his uncle's inattention and walked towards him.

It must have been obvious when the child faced him, stopping a few steps away from him:

“Why do you look sad, mister?”

Nyx didn't think he'd revealed himself that well. Unless the kid's just too perceptive? Maybe so, and that realization made him smile.

He took a step, tearing himself away from the shadows to return to his original shape without seeming to surprise the child. The child must already have been seeing a lot with his parents.

“Curiosity is a bad thing, Jammy.”

The little one puffed up his cheeks:

“You started it, you've been staring at me all this time! And how do you know my name?”

His voice was thin, sweet, full of innocence. This time, Nyx's smile became more sincere, he even allowed himself to laugh at the sulky look of the youngest:

"You're right, you're right. I'm a very curious skeleton myself. You seemed to be having a good time, it intrigued me. »

PaperJam tilted his head to the side, coming a little closer to him again:

“You like to look at people ? Like Daddy's friend?

- Daddy's friend ?

- Yes, my daddy ! My daddy Ink! He has a boyfriend who loves to appear out of nowhere and listen to people's conversations! He's even the one who helped my dad get in a relationship with my dad!”

Nyx barely hid his stunned expression, but he could not control the emotion that warmed his soul, giving him a sudden and strange urge to cry. Ink ... had spoken of him? Even though he barely knew himself and Nyx had disappeared overnight and never came back?

The child suddenly had a sad pout:

“Daddy is not happy because his friend doesn't come to see him anymore. He looked for him everywhere, but ... he's nowhere. Father has already reproached him by telling him to stop looking for him, that it was useless, but Daddy doesn't want to hear anything ...”

And Nyx felt guilty again. So even here, he was divisive? What a cruel joke... He had no trouble imagining Error and Ink's fights, he had already been to some of them and felt bad that Paperjam had to endure that. Not to mention the way he called his parents... "Dad" for Ink was still on. But calling Error "Father"...

Nyx didn't like it. "Father" was too serious, put a distance between parent and child. Unless it was his own experience that was clouding his judgment?

To be honest, he didn't want to think about it. He only wished to erase the pain that had appeared on the child's face.

Nyx crossed the last meter that separated him from the little one, before simply kneeling at his height, regaining his slight mischievous but comforting smile. His hand came naturally to caress PaperJam's skull, arousing the surprise of the little one who looked up at him, confused.

"You should tell your daddy to stop looking for his friend ... if you tell him that, he'll stop, I'm sure he will.

- B-But he'll be sad...

- Maybe, but it'll pass. After all, you and Error are there to support him!”

Besides Ink wasn't dependent on him either. In a few months, he would probably have forgotten that. It was even surprising that he hadn't already...

“Sir? Why do you still look sad?”

The elder one tensed up. Decidedly, this little one was far too perceptive. It was confusing. Nyx wasn't used to being seen in the light, he always managed to hide his feelings from others.

“... I'm not sad.

- You're a liar.”

Nyx felt his throat closing.

[Yeah, he was a liar]

PaperJam's smile returned:

“Uncle Dream he has a great technique so that people are not sad anymore !”

Nyx didn't get a chance to respond. He froze, stunned, as he felt the small body grasping and curling up against him, in a soft embrace devoid of negativity.

[His soul missed a beat.]

Nyx felt his throat tighten, a flood of memories assailing him in spite of himself. Yes... he remembered it perfectly well. Dream had always been fond of a hug, no matter when or where. Comforting hugs that meant "I'm here for you, you can count on me."

He held back a sob, responded feverishly to the embrace.

[This child didn't realize...]

[He didn't realize how much harm he was doing to him.]

*** ***

Linger a long, long time on the same subject, the same reflection. To question oneself, to hesitate, to cover the room with a confused look before returning to the blank sheet of paper.

Ink wasn't used to being uninspired. Never. It was one of the worst situations that could happen to him. He liked to scribble, to create, to make others dream with his creations, he found himself like an idiot looking at the same blank sheet of paper for already ... for how long already? Oh, he didn't know, maybe several hours.

At the same time, how could he have had the slightest inspiration with the anguish that was devouring him? He and Error had fought again, always on the same subject. The subject of Nyx. The painter had seen fit to tell his lover about the black-boned skeleton and his ideas for putting them together. He should have known that the Destroyer wouldn't like the news...

Oh no, Error had not liked at all to learn that a stranger had taken the liberty of giving them advice and insinuating himself into their private life. Ink had made a good case that he was doing it for their own good, but the Destroyer hadn't believed a word of it. To him, Nyx was just a skeleton profiteer who had come to watch a 'show'. After all, he had vanished after getting what he wanted! The question remained: why did he want to help Nightmare and Ink?

The Creator sighed as he recalled their argument :

“That guy didn't give a shit if it worked, he just wanted to laugh at you taking his advice!" exclaimed the raging Glitch.

- He took the time to listen to us and comfort us, and his advice was good! The proof: we're together now!

- I had come to kill you! Can you imagine if I didn't stop in time? If I'd gone too far without realizing it?

- You wouldn't have f...

- You don't know that! Damn it Ink, I've failed to kill you countless times! This time could have turned out the same! And your stupid 'Nyx' wouldn't have interfered!

- When did you know? You stopped before it got dangerous and...

- Where was he during the fight then? Because I didn't feel any unknown magic in the castle! Just yours and the magic of the bad guys! Let's face it: he ran away when he saw that things could get bad, and came back like a flower afterwards, only to disappear again the very next day! This guy is not your 'friend'!”

Ink had felt his magic crackle with anger as his pupils turned red. But he had said nothing, because he knew his lover was too stubborn to listen to any argument. Instead, he had weighed and gone to the living room, and slumped down on the sofa where he had started drawing. He had vaguely heard Error growl a 'There you go again, you're still pouting' before he heard him leave he didn't know where.

Then he sighed: Luckily Paperjam was with Fresh. He wouldn't have liked his little darling to see another one of their fights...

Returning to the present moment, Ink rested his drawing stuff with annoyance. He couldn't wait for an inspiration that wouldn't come, just as he couldn't wait to be alone in this house that seemed too big to him when his family was away. He loved his son and his husband with all his being, cherished them as he had never cherished anyone before.

God, he hated arguing with Error ...

He huffed and puffed and got up, thinking that a little outing wouldn't hurt... until he was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. He raised an eyebrow when he saw the name Fresh on his screen and immediately worried, eagerly picking up the phone:

“Fresh, hello? Something wrong with Jammy?

- Hey, yo Dude, calm down! Don't worry, the kid's fine, at least as far as I can see.

- From what you see?

- Yep, I don't want to get too close because I'm confused, but... your buddy you're looking for is a black-boned skeleton, right? With a gray scarf, purple coat?”

Ink held his breath for a moment, feverishly:

“...yes?

- ... Jammy was talking to a guy who looked exactly like that.

- I'M COMING!”

He let go of his phone to grab his brush, skillfully traced a portal that he crossed in a second as his soul - a very recent soul born of his union with Error - was racing at breakneck speed, his mind overwhelmed with mad hope.

He landed in a snow like all the other versions of Snowdine. However, he quickly turned away to pay attention to his son, his Jammy, his treasure ... holding a black-boned skeleton in his arms in a tender embrace.

“NYX!”

The arrested person stood up sharply, walking away from the child with a guilty expression, as if he had just been caught at fault. He turned a panicked look towards Ink, a look that surprised the Creator. It was the first time he had seen the black-boned one lose his way.

But Nyx was faithful to his habits, took back his marble mask in an instant, not without addressing his characteristic smile, that slight mischievous smile.

“Hello, I...”

He was interrupted by the Creator who threw himself into his arms, making his eyes wide open as they both fell into the snow, lying one on top of the other. Flickering his eyes without really understanding what had just happened, Nyx looked at Ink, straightened up slightly, and finally sat on top of him.

“You...”

The painter's voice vibrated with palpable anger. An anger that burst out when he planted his red pupils in Nyx's:

"ABRUPT! WHERE WERE YOU WERE? THREE MONTHS WITHOUT ANY NEWS, BUT WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU? NIGHTMARE AND I LOOKED FOR YOU EVERYWHERE! »

Nyx was far from expecting such a reaction:

“... You've been looking for me?

- Of course I did! Damn, you disappeared like that, without saying anything! At first we thought you'd gone for a walk ... then a day went by, two, three... We thought you had a problem, that maybe you were hurt, that you couldn't go home! You just... You can't just go off and leave people high and dry!”

The Creator takes his breath, his pupils lose that angry glow and turn into a softer gaze:

“... God, you're really abusing...

- ... I'm sorry. I'm sorry…

- ... Yes, you can be...”

Ink sighed, before finding a more tender smile:

“... But you're here now. In the flesh. Well, mostly in the flesh!”

He laughed and Nyx had great difficulty in retaining his own smile. The Creator finally decided to get up and helped his friend to do the same, while PaperJam shyly approached his daddy:

“Daddy, is he your friend ?”

Ink became even happier when he came to take his son in his arms:

“Yes Jammy, it's him!

- B-ben he didn't even tell me!”

The artist pouffed at the disgruntled look on his little boy's face. He gently kissed his cheekbone before coming to tickle his belly, wrenching a pretty laugh out of him:

“You're not going to sulk like that! Besides, even though he's my friend, I've already told you to stay away from strangers!

- But I know how to defend myself, daddy!”

Nyx softened by this adorable vision. A father and son playing innocently together, with love and complicity, as if they were each other's greatest treasure.

Nyx didn't understand, much too young to grasp the whole picture. Much too young to know that he shouldn't grab Ink's hand, let alone in this situation:

“Pop-“

He hit the ground violently, repelled by the being who should have protected him, pulled him out of that hell. Pushed back by Ink who looked at him as if he was the worst horror in the world:

“How many times do I have to tell you to stay away? Go back to Nightmare before I send you back there myself!”

Nyx flinched, coming back to himself after that short, very short flashback that had hit him hard.

“Nyx? Nyx? Are you all right?” Ink inquired worriedly noting this moment of absence.

The black-boned one didn't answer right away, as if disturbed by something the Creator couldn't grasp. But then again, he regained control of his emotions, too quickly for Ink to ask any questions:

“Yes, it's alright. Why don't you tell me a little bit about the last three months?”

Nyx had resumed his curious and amused expression while the painter sighed:

“Damn, if you only knew! But why don't you come to my house for tea, we'll be more comfortable there to talk!”

The one in the grey scarf willingly accepted, not without an inner laugh: he already knew that the next few hours would be nothing but complaints about Error.

===

Next Chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Error -> LoverOfPiggies

Ink -> Myebi

Paperjam -> 7GoodAngel

#undertale #Guardian Angel #fanfiction #error #ink #paperjam #errink #nyx

20 notes · View notes

bodyswapmischief · 5 years

Text

Silver’s Sauna: Nerd to Sliver Fox

Just moments ago, I was a nerdy high school senior. Now, I'm almost an actual senior at 55 years old. Yes, I have one hell of a body, but was it worth 37 years of my life.

I was always made fun of, in school. First I was, too short ... But, once puberty hit, I grew taller. To bad my muscles didn't get the growth memo. I was a tall, pale, nerdy skeleton. And jocks/bullies at my school never let me forget how much of an outcast I was.

With college coming up soon, I saw my chance to start over. I could work on my self now and become the person I wanted to be in college. So, I joined a gym, where I knew my classmates wouldn't bother me. Silver's Gym was mainly advertised to older men. The mascot was a fox. So ... the whole Silver Fox motif wasn't lost on me.

I walked up to the front desk. And, there was Mr. Edward Silver. He was the youngest and fittest man in there, in his early 30's. He was curious why I wanted to be at this gym. So, I told him my story. He understood and even gave me a discount. For the past few months I went, but saw no results. Mr. Silver tried to give me tips, but I just couldn't gain weight to build muscle. Exercising became a form of meditation for me. And working out next to overweight business men was a real confidence booster.

Today, I was working out when I saw a bald and severely obese man walk in. His clothes and the way he carried himself shown that his gluttonous appetite came from his extremely wealthy life style. Mr. Silver came, out of the back office, and greeted him. They started talking and the old man handed Mr. Silver a brief case. Mr. Silver motioned to me and the old man nodded. My gut told me I needed to leave, immediately.

I stopped what I was doing and rushed into to the locker room. My heart was racing and it felt like being back at school, running from my bullies. As I struggled to get the locker open, Mr. Silver walked in. Being bullied at school, I considered him my only friend, based on the interactions we had. But, now standing in front of me, he was different. He stared at me like a predator that had cornered his prey. I didn't know what he was going to do, but I knew he had me trapped. "Aw Eric! Glad I found you." He said in a fake cheerful tone. "I wanted to congratulate you, myself. You won the gyms surprise lottery. You got yourself a free trip to the sauna."

"That's great," I let out, fear shaking my throat. "But, I can't do it now ... Can I comeback..." Mr Silver interrupted me, with his fake cheery tone. "Oh, we both know you're not gonna want to miss this opportunity." He grabbed me and forcibly led me to the spa area. I tried to break free. Even though Mr. Silver was shorter than me, his ripped body easily slammed me into the locker. With his ripped physique pressed against me, he looked at me straight in the eyes, his silent message was clear. I wasn't escaping. I stopped fighting back and let him take me.

He led me into the basement, with two glass chambers. The chambers were set up like saunas, except for the 3 glass walls. In one chamber sat the fat old man, with a towel across his legs. "Strip down and here's a towel." Mr Silver commanded. Understanding that I couldn't do anything to escape, I followed his command. He opened the door to the other chamber and I walked in.

The fat old man looked at me at smile. "Hello, I'm Theodore Hutchinson. And, I appreciate what you are about to do for me." I was confused. "What's going on!'" I order Mr. Silver to explain what was happening. "Years ago, I discovered these particles that I have infused into this mist. When properly charged these particles can overcome the obstacles of time and space. However they need to be balanced, or else ... bad things happen" Mr. Silver began to explain.

As he was talking, I witnessed what was happening to Mr. Hutchinson. Fat was melting of his body. Hair was growing back on his head. His body was becoming less hairy. His skin started to tighten and his body was being pumped with muscle. Once the steam cleared he looked like he was now my age. He looked like the buff jocks that made my life a living hell. His towel dropped to the floor revealing his hard cock. He started laughing in disbelief, while feeling up his body. The laughs turned into moans and he started rubbing his cock. His body pulsing with pleasure as as he felt up his now younger body.

The machine started violently shaking, as Mr. Silver walked back to it. "See. These little guys are fighting to regain balance. They need somewhere to go." He said deviously. Steam started filling up my chamber. I panicked, looking at Mr. Hutchinson younger body. I subconsciously put one hand on my stomach. I brushed the other hand through my hair. Mr. Silver laughed. "It doesn't work like that. It's not a body swap machine. In Mr. Hutchinson’s case it naturally de-aged him to his senior year of high school. When he was a muscled up jock. You on the other hand, It will age you as if you kept living your life naturally. What you will look like ... well who knows. That's the fun part. Maybe you will get fat and bald like he was and maybe you won’t. Only time will tell." Mr. Silver Flipped the switch.

The steam surrounded my body. Although I could still breathe, I felt suffocated. My body was heating up. Suddenly, I felt a pressure on my stomach and saw it start stretching. My chest became flabby and my stomach jutted out. " Looks like some gained the freshman 15," Mr. Silver playfully said.

Part of me was happy that I was no longer a skinny skeleton. But I worried how fat I was going to get, as the weight kept piling on. "Someone discovered beer on their 21st birthday." Mr Silver Chimed in.

Suddenly I feel my arm getting stabbed over and again. A tattoo appeared on my arm. My body was still chubby, but muscle was beginning to developed. My biceps started painfully pulsating, as they increased in size. My chest became more defined. " Look's like 25 was a good year for you." Silver seemed amused.

My body kept increasing in size and my belly became flatter. I begin to feel stabbing in my other arm and neck. More tattoos appeared. "Damn your looking good in your 30's, most guys I’ve seen let themselves go, by now." Silver said, not hiding the fact he was getting turned on.

My skin started to tan and finally an eight pack formed on my stomach. My body looked like what you might imagine an ancient gladiators body would look like. I was in the best shape my life. "So you are one of the it gets better with age guys, huh." Silver said, with a big smile on his face. He was really enjoying this.

The mist kept swirling, but my body only went through minor changes. A little more muscle gain and a pricking sensation as stubble appeared on my face. But, then I started to feel drained. I was more tried. My body felt heavier. It felt like more work to carry all this muscle. The steam cleared. I looked down at my body. I was insanely fit and hot and my body wasn't changing anymore. With a body like this, I had to still be in my late 30's, at the most. Confused, I asked "why am I still in my 30's ..." I stop, shocked by how old I sounded. Silver chimed in, "It would look like that, doesn't it." Silver smiles. "But you are now 55."

My heart beat fast in disbelief. Mr. Silver held up a mirror. Although my body looked strong, I still felt heavy. I slowly got up feeling pain in my lower back and knees. I made my way to the mirror. I looked at my reflection and saw an old face staring back. Wrinkles on my face and grey in my hair and stubble.

"It looks like you are in great shape ... but as an older man you are going have to live differently to keep that body tight. There will have to be diet changes and working out twice has hard and twice as much, compared to a man now half your age." Mr Silver smiled, checking out an analyzing the work he did to my body. I stumbled back to my seat, reality setting in. I'm an old man now. A hot Silver Fox, but still an old man. "What's going to happen. I can't go back home like this." I cried out.

"Your past is taken care of. To everyone you knew ... you are dead. A bus crush that should happen any moment, now. As for the future ... you are now a father. Your son is that young man over there, Ted Hutchinson. As per his contract, he has given you his life and all the wealth that comes along with it. You will continue to work in his company and make money. And, you will have time for fun too, so don't worry about having to work to much. After all, you have 10 more years until retirement is an option. Your new son will get to live like the rich kid he always wanted to be, instead of the self-made billionaire he had to be. And, once you die, you will leave everything to your son. Do we have an agreement?"

With tears in my eyes, I nodded. I didn't have choice. My whole life was gone. If I said no, I'd probably end up on the streets, with my parents not believing I'm really me and a lack of work experience to get a job. Who's going want to hire a 55 year old man with no work experience or proof of being a citizen.

My life was over. Not that it was great, so far. But, it was mine. I missed out on so many experiences. It seemed like my 20's, 30's and 40's were going to be great. But, now I would never know. I mean with how in shape I am in, I'd probably live into my 90's, assuming something else doesn't go wrong in my body, but now that is only 40 years away. Silver comes back and brings me the contract. I sign it.

My new son, Ted, walks in. I feel angry about what he did to me. "I'm lucky my new daddy is so hot" he says as he enters my chamber. He walks closer to me. His body less muscular than mine, but still hot. He starts feeling up my aged body. And, I start feeling his, my anger turning to lust. "Don't worry I'll take care of you dad" Ted said, removing my towel and exposing my old but still impressive cock. He bends down and starts sucking it. I moan in pleasure.

I could get use to this. I mean there's nothing I could do about it now. I might as well enjoy it ... while I'm still alive. Being a Silver Fox can have it’s benefits.

#male #body #swap #mischief #transformation #stories #tf #story #musle #age #theft #transfer #aging #de-aging

354 notes · View notes

imyourliquor-youremypoison · 5 years

Text

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 21

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

Word count: 2.7k

Part 20 <<< >>> Part 22

MASTERLIST

The mood on the quinjet after their mission was sullen at best. Everyone stared at Peter while trying really hard to mind their own business, only sending conspicuous looks his way. Natasha sat the farthest away, wringing her hands; Bucky was piloting – he rarely did but today he volunteered; Sam pretended to sleep next to him; everybody tried to give him privacy though he knew he had none.

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Tony shouted for the tenth time. He was sitting across from Peter, fuming, eyes crazy. “What the hell were you thinking back then?”

“I wasn’t,” Peter mumbled pitifully, eyes darted on his mask between his hands.

His face stung and his ears rang – couldn’t the scolding wait a little? Three more hours until home.

“Oh yes, we all saw that!” Tony burst out. “I mean, what could possibly be more important than the current mission, I wonder. Thinking about your grocery list? If You die, it’s on me, kid! Can you imagine how May would react? And Em-“

“I get it, alright?!” Peter snapped all of a sudden, looking up before letting out a scoff. “I messed up! Can we move on now?”

There was a minute of tense silence during which Tony seriously considered flying across the quinjet to strangle Peter – but what would he tell May, then?

“This isn’t over,” he warned him.

Peter simply sighed, happy enough that the conversation was over for today.

He knew he had made a mistake, he was the only person to blame in what happened that day. However, he wasn’t the only person bearing responsibility if something bad happened to him. Tony had vouched for Peter, he considered him family.

There was no apology strong enough to erase what he did. Or rather, what he didn’t do. For days now, Peter’s brain kept jumping back to the catastrophe of a kiss he shared with Emmeline, even in the worst of moments. Not on purpose; not in an effort to analyze what happened and find where he messed up. No, it was plain self-torture at this point.

His cheekbone throbbed like hell, his entire face felt tender and swollen. He had initially planned on staying at the compound until he was healed because he couldn’t reasonably go to class looking like he had been trampled by an elephant, and going to May’s was asking for a second round of what just occurred with Tony. Now, he wasn’t so sure he would be welcomed to stay.

Then, of course, was Emmeline. He wished he had someone else to turn to but staying in Ned’s tiny dorm room for days didn’t sound too thrilling. What was more: Tessa was with her. He had asked her to look after his dog while he was away on his mission.

She hadn’t even asked where he was going, or for how long… She simply trusted him to come back. And he would have to own up to the consequences of his carelessness.

The engine landed sooner than expected, but the familiar weightlessness accompanying the landing woke Peter from his daydreaming. Or was it the evening already? He didn’t know.

“You staying with us tonight, Spandex?” Sam asked him, slapping Peter on the back and earning a cough along with a semi-grateful glare.

“I’m sure he has better things to do than hang out with us oldies,” Tony intervened – his way of uninviting Peter after Sam’s offer. His tone was still sharp and cold.

"I promised Em I would go and see her when I come back," Peter told Tony. "She likes to make sure I'm fine when I return from a mission."

He wasn’t looking forward to it – it truth, he had been avoiding Emmeline and he feared she had noticed because if she had, she wouldn’t stay quiet about it, that was for sure. What was more: he deserved whatever was coming his way. He could have talked to her, told her he didn’t think kissing her was a mistake. Instead, he ran, tail between his legs.

"Be prepared to receive another earful then," Tony warned him. Peter looked exactly like someone who had been beat like a meat sack by the Terminator - and it was by and large a good description of what actually happened. "Maybe she will talk some sense into you."

Peter had been gone for four days now, and the lab was a quiet place without his uplifting presence, or Tony Stark’s classic rock music. In fact, most of the Avengers still in residence had gone with them and her sole company was F.R.I.D.A.Y who humored her and conversed with her when she wanted to.

But apparently, there was someone else. Emmeline had been standing on a ladder, working on Tony’s current project – she had no idea what it was for but it was big and he tasked her with a few minor adjustments to do while he was away. When the elevator doors opened, she almost fell while twisting her neck to see who just came in.

“Hello? Somebody here?” the woman’s voice called.

Emmeline climbed down and turned off her music – in truth, she wouldn’t have listened to this if she thought someone else was around. But Emmeline had been thinking too long too hard on something and needed to drown out her thoughts for a while.

“Ah, finally!” she exclaimed. “Thought I’d go deaf.”

With a wince, Emmeline emerged from behind the appliance, wiping her greasy hands on a towel. She swallowed thickly when she realized her visitor was Scarlet Witch, although she didn’t wear her usual gear.

“Sorry about that,” Em apologized, too embarrassed to even meet her eyes. “I thought I was alone.”

She seemed surprised to see her too.

“I know you,” she stated, staring her down. “You’re Peter’s friend.”

It wasn’t a question, and the way she said ‘friend’ implied she meant something else entirely but Emmeline didn’t correct her the way she would have Tony. If she was being honest, she was in dire need of a girl talk, and at this point, any girl would do.

“And you’re Wanda Maximoff,” Em replied.

She smiled in a rather enigmatic way.

“Working alone on a Saturday afternoon? Blasting black metal? Someone’s keeping busy,” she commented.

Emmeline let out a small huff, feeling as though she had been shot with an arrow right in the chest. She aimed good.

“Maybe.”

She shrugged. If Peter were here, he would give her that smile that meant he wasn’t fool by her attempt at sounding casual. But Peter wasn’t there. Peter hadn’t really been there, even before leaving for the mission, because Peter had been too busy avoiding her since she kissed him.

Wanda nodded and put her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, biting the corner of her mouth as if pondering something.

“Wanna let out some steam? I was just training at the gym but it’s not great alone,” she offered, much to Emmeline’s surprise. “And you look like you need to punch something… or someone.”

Em’s eyebrows shot up but she was quick to toss her towel aside and accept the generous proposition.

“I don’t have super strength though. Or gym clothes.”

Wanda shrugged and even Emmeline had to admit she did a much better job at looking casual than she did.

“Me neither. I do, however, have gym clothes.”

Wanda then turned on her heels and walked to the elevator, quickly followed by Emmeline. She had never seen the rest of the Tower. Peter sometimes trained there, or slept there, but he never asked her to come up with him. Maybe he thought she wasn’t interested in seeing the Avengers’ gym – not entire untrue – or the contents of their fridge. Or maybe he didn’t want her there.

No, she couldn’t allow her thoughts to go there. This wasn’t like Peter, to keep her away from some parts of his life. He had been more than open and willing to answer all of her questions and demands since she discovered he was Spider-Man.

Wanda Maximoff wasn’t much older than Emmeline because she had been dusted too. Of course, Peter was still by and large the youngest Avenger, but she couldn’t be more than in her late twenties. And she was Emmeline’s size.

Wearing someone else’s leggings and sports bra was a weird experience in and of itself. They decided they would spar together, leaving the shoes aside since Emmeline couldn’t fit in Wanda’s.

“I don’t know anything about sparring. My last time in a gym goes way back already,” she warned the young woman standing across the mat. “You’ll have to guide me.”

“Sure thing, we’ll cover the basics,” she agreed.

Emmeline couldn’t remember the last time she got her ass handed to her like that.

Four more days passed without any sign of life from Peter. If Wanda didn’t keep Emmeline up to date on their status, she would have gone mad with worry.

Between classes, walking Tessa and Bella, working at the lab, and letting Wanda wipe the floor with her ass, Emmeline was kept quite busy and didn’t complain. While it had been a tough first session at the gym, she was a quick learner with good reflexes – which she got from all the activities she used to do when she was younger. Who would have thought fencing made her this good at dodging out of the way when someone attacked her?

“I have never seen anyone so enthusiastic about getting beat up,” Wanda commented while tightening her headlock, waiting for Emmeline to tap out. She did.

“I have never dealt with someone so happy to indulge,” she replied with a smirk.

Neither of them would admit to it, but it was rather nice and refreshing to be around another girl about the same age – even if their conversations were usually wordless.

Usually, but not always. It didn’t take long for Wanda to start teasing Emmeline the same way Tony sometimes did.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re throwing yourself into all these activities to keep your mind off of something…”

Emmeline rolled her eyes, electing not to answer in hope that the topic would be dropped, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“He’ll be back soon, you know? Can’t avoid him forever,” she told the younger girl, letting her attack first this time.

She lunged forward but Wanda ducked before she could hit her.

“He’s the one avoiding me,” Em said without thinking. Fuck, she had just admitted to being obsessed by Peter Parker to the point of restlessness. Then again, she had been in need of a girl talk. “I’m just the idiot letting it get to me.”

This time when she attacked, she feigned to aim at her side before going for her legs, effectively sweeping Wanda off her feet.

“Do something about it, then. The kid’s great but he’s helpless when it comes to girls,” Wanda told her when Em helped her up.

Her face fell.

“Girls?” she repeated. She recognized and loathed the feeling creeping up her spine at the thought of other girls.

“Relax. They’re in the past. I can assure you that to him, there are no other girls than you in the world,” Wanda laughed, using Emmeline’s moment of distraction against her and side-kicking her.

“You’re trying to throw me off my game with your girl talk,” she accused her, glaring up from the floor.

She brought her own gym clothes now, and even had a locker. There was something comforting about having been invited here by someone other than Peter too. She had been accepted by another member of the team.

The Scarlet Witch was surprisingly ordinary when you took the time to look past the glowing red eyes. When she didn’t use her powers, she was much like Emmeline – no super-strength, no vibranium arm, no special training in hand to hand combat.

“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” she asked her, watching the red tint her cheeks as she flinched.

It was time for defense training, the beating up part was over with – perhaps for the best.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Emmeline chose denial although there was no reason to.

She had just admitted to thinking about Peter all the time and being jealous of the sheer thought of ‘other girls’ being in the picture.

“Peter clearly fell head over heels for you. I had my doubts about you before, but now I think it might be reciprocated. He’s caught your attention, admit it." He’s caught way more than that but Emmeline sure as hell wasn't going to correct her. "You should do something about it."

“I can't do that.” Emmeline’s hands were retrained behind her back, making her feel almost as helpless as she felt when thinking about Peter. “And he’s not in love with me.”

The sigh she then let out was deep enough for Wanda to understand that something had already happened between them - something Em visibly regretted and which sent Peter right into a pity party if his out-of-character behavior was anything to go by.

“If you wait for him to make a move, you'll be gray by the time it happens,” Wanda advised her without answering her stubborn denial of Peter’s feelings. Even a blind man would see it.

“Why would he want to make a move in the first place? We're just friends.”

There it was - that sentence. It rang untrue, even to her who spoke it. She was obstinate, to say the least.

"Right.” The way Wanda’s voice snapped was clear: she thought Emmeline was full of shit. And what was worse was that she was right.

When Emmeline eventually freed her wrists from Wanda grip, the older woman must have decided she was done with Em’s uncooperative behavior and called it a day. She didn’t know what exactly it was she said, but Emmeline sensed that she had done something to upset her.

“You know-“ Wanda started, a glimmer of something new and foreign in her eyes as she looked at Emmeline. “Being scared is alright. I was scared to allow someone in, too. I was scared that they would be taken away from me.”

Her fists opened and she stretched her fingers, trying to push back the painful memories as Emmeline listened intently. Just by the way her face contorted slightly, Em could tell her fears became reality.

“You think you have all the time in the world with the people you love, but you don’t. I wish I had acted on my feelings sooner, I wish I had had more time with…” Her voice died there, and it seemed she wasn’t going to finish her sentence – not that she needed to.

“I’m sorry,” Emmeline sympathized. “I suppose my childish problems don’t compare to what you’ve been through. I should have watched my tongue.”

“No, Em. If you mean what you’re saying, then you should stop running away from your own heart. Peter is a good person, and I know he’s crazy about you.”

These words added weight to Emmeline’s heart. It was like carrying a stone in her chest. She wished she could do as Wanda said, she wished she knew how to let people in.

“Maybe I’m not a good person,” she argued, shrugging.

A soft smile replaced Wanda’s sour frown.

“Give yourself a chance.” The tension then lifted from the air and it seemed as though their conversation had come to an end. Wanda grabbed a towel and threw another to Emmeline. “And don’t tell him I told you that by the way.”

Despite being covered in sweat, a shiver ran down Em’s spine and her hairs stood on end the second Wanda walked into the locker room to take a shower. She scurried off, deciding to go home and take a shower there.

Wanda’s words were burned in her mind, impossible to get rid off. From there, her mind jumped to the kiss she gave Peter and how she rejected him immediately afterwards, without giving him a chance to do or say anything.

She had been the one initiating the kiss and the one to put an end to it. Where was he in this? She should have cared more about what he wanted. Did he want her to kiss him? Did he want her to stop? She didn't know and suddenly she felt awful for not having wondered before. He had been terribly busy lately – had she imagined that he was avoiding her? It slowly made sense now; the way he didn’t meet her eyes, his patrols lasting longer than usual.

Fuck.

Reblog to save a writer

Taglist: @of-virtuoso @justanothergenzkid @complete-trash-101 @the-freefeather @yarkmydude

24 notes · View notes

kinitstuffblr · 5 years

Text

WHO WANTS TO ANALYZE CRAZY DREAMS?!!

Aight bros this dream I had last night was INSANE basically because it made a lot of sense in a lot of different weird ways and I personally love hearing people’s dreams and helping interpret them SO I hope all FOURTEEN of you maybe-real-people will consider sharing YOUR dreams with me via asks/messages/comments/whatever (if you want other people to weigh in then go for it in the comments otherwise I don’t mind if it’s just one-on-one I really just want to discuss dreams). To get the ball rolling I’ll describe my dream and my analysis of it (But feel free to just skip reading that part and go straight to yours if you want! I’m half typing this out just to keep a record for myself)

SO my dreams lately have involved being lost, usually in cities, where I’m vaguely aware of where I should be and am trying to find my way toward that. AND lately my dreams have distinct beginnings and ends and relative themes throughout, which is not how they used to be. I’m going to break this one down into separate numbered sections to kind of establish the timeline and to highlight the key parts.

Part 1: I was in an empty mall; mostly empty, with the stores all dark, but not closed. Think small town, mid-day, but technically open so one or two stores are still available for shopping. I was just sort of wandering through with no real goal, like a lazy tourist, and I knew I was in my local Big City.

Usually I go to this Big City and sort of do a lazy tourist thing a lot when I’m getting ready to attend a con, which I am currently irl preparing for, so it made sense to me that I was in the area wandering around.

Part 2: I saw a theatre attached to the mall, where there was basically just a big entrance that opens up and there it is - but it was a stage theatre, not a movie theater. I could see the stage and all the seating just past the ticket counter. Next thing I know, I see several drag queens in powdered wigs and costumes filing out of a nearby door, which I guessed led to a green room. At the end of the line was a close friend of mine, the only anatomical female of the group, dressed as Marie Antoinette, and she was surprised to see me and invited me to come watch the show (which, of course, I eagerly agreed to).

First of all, she would SO take that role and she would SO be part of a drag show if the opportunity presented itself, so all that made lots of sense to me. I also adore this friend, and don’t hear from her much, so I’ll take every opportunity to be around her if invited. The problem is this doesn’t happen often, and I get stuck feeling like me reaching out to hang out with her will come off as needy, but also that maybe she would prefer I reach out more and is disappointed that I haven’t. Also, I think the last time we hung out for real was the time I’d elected to let her know about a year-long unrequited crush I’d had on her, so in the interest of never making her feel awkward again, I feel like I can never be the one to initiate a hangout, even though we’d had an open conversation that went very well considering the circumstances. Oh - at this point I was also aware that I didn’t have my hair styled, makeup on, or an especially good outfit - I looked frumpy, which I felt she noticed. (She’s gorgeous, not in a fake way, legitimately she always looks great but she also does fucking bomb makeup whereas I feel like I’ve never fully learned it/understood it.)

Part 3: At the drag show, I realize it’s a dress rehearsal. No biggie. I head to the bathroom, where a lot of the queens are now actually getting ready, some in the bathroom and some out in the hall. I’m nonbinary, but I only recently learned what that even is and started embracing it; in the moment, I can’t decide if I should go into the female bathroom or the male bathroom. I really don’t want to be in their way while they’re getting ready and though my instinct is to go into the bathroom opposite my assigned sex in an act to embrace my newer self, I immediately think of how non-nonbinary (not-androgynous) I look, and shamefully head into my assigned sex’s bathroom.

This is no mystery, I still constantly feel like even a group for ‘people who don’t fit into the other groups’ is still too exclusive for me to fit into it; Like I’m posing, and I should just be quiet and stick to my assigned sex, and nonbinary isn’t what I am because I’m not nonbinary enough?? It’s hard to explain but I feel like you get it even if I can’t put it into words well. I felt like an asshole trying to go into the opposite sex’s bathroom, but I felt like a coward ducking my head and going into ‘my’ bathroom.

Part 4: In the bathroom, it didn’t matter what I’d chosen because the drag queens were getting ready in both (which I should have seen coming?) While in there I was of course half afraid I’d be seen through various gaps in the walls and did notice someone getting high out of a CVS bag in a stall.

This is basic bathroom-related anxiety I face in dreams a lot, although the drug thing is new and I think related to how often junkies are getting high on the steps literally outside my front door every night when I’m trying to go to bed. In the moment I felt like I should let someone know but I didn’t because I’m not street smart and somehow that implies that street smart people don’t need me getting into their business?? Idk

Part 5: I found a former theatre club classmate to sit with to watch the rehearsal. I don’t remember the show at all but I remember that I was supposedly there for the whole thing and didn’t get to see or talk to my friend at all, so I ended up wandering out without saying goodbye.

Typical again - At social events with this friend, I feel like the norm has been that I don’t actually get to spend much time with her and that it’s not really noticed if I leave

Part 6: My cat was with me?? My cat, an FIV positive soft boi who I love with everything in me, was for some reason with me on this trip and I’ve just realized I’ve lost him in this mall. He doesn’t wear a collar and is easily spooked. Somehow I see him in an open area and swoop him up into my arms and tight against my chest; now I just have to not let him wrestle free while I find my way back to the car.

Again SO normal, but in a new, FUN terrible way! Combining my fear of losing my sick cat outside and not being able to find my car in a big city during an important situation. Both are repeat anxiety nightmares, but I’ve never had it structured like this before.

Part 7: I don’t remember where the car is or how far; I only have a vague idea; I also know there’s no way when I get there I’ll be able to open the door without losing him but right now I’m just focused on finding the car. Suddenly there’s a few people here and there in the mall and I’m really worried that someone will approach me to touch my cat or to offer help and only end up spooking him. A kid walks up to me and he has a gameboy open in his hands; I know he just wants to touch my cat but I explain I need to get him to my car and he offers to help, which mostly is just him following me while half-playing his pokemon game and half looking at my cat.

The boy is the same age/slightly younger than my youngest brother and looks exactly like him and acts exactly like him, he just isn’t him somehow - and he’s legitimately sort-of-trying-to-help in his own kid way. I appreciate the moral support. But I’m confused what this represents in my dream?? Me and my youngest bro used to be very close, but I was a little distant with him after I moved out and lately now that he’s in high school I feel like he doesn’t want my attention as much as he used to and also doesn’t want to spend time together.

Part 8: At one point I’m squeezing my cat so tight to my chest he’s gone limp and isn’t breathing - but I loosen up and check and he’s fine after just a second, although he’s irritated and a little squirmy. Somehow this boy with us has now gotten me to finding my car at the top of an open parking garage and I haven’t dropped the cat the whole way. I open the door and start putting my stuff on the seat (I had a purse this whole time). In the front seat, there’s actually already a cat. My cat?? I say out loud, ‘oh, I didn’t actually bring him in - there’s an unopened one right here!’. Because the cat in the car, my cat, has a San Pelligrino soda foil cap on its head. Also, I realize I dropped my cat - you know, the one I’d carried back? But no, there he is, and I pick him up and put him in the back seat. He’s also my cat. And somehow I’m still more worried about his well-being, even though supposedly, the cat in the front seat with the foil hat is mine.

The squeezing thing is a memory of the other night irl when I realized my cat was so deep asleep he felt like he’d stopped breathing and when I moved him to wake him he was completely limp and still; he’s fine now and was confused and irate at me for waking him before. But the two cats thing was throwing me off really hard; All I knew was that a family friend literally just put down her cat yesterday and that I’d seen pictures of her baby girl, and this girl cat looked exactly like my boy cat and was roughly the same age and had an illness. But I was certain that both of these dream cats were my boy, although weirdly I was more loyal to the one I’d been carrying.

My husband actually helped me figure out this crazy shit in a way that blew my mind (because foil hat was reaaally confusing me.) He asked what I usually do with San Pelligrino sodas, and got me to admit that usually, I don’t finish them. (I don’t always finish most drinks actually.) But it really sucks when I leave a San Pelli unfinished, because they’re expensive and they’re one of my favorites, so wasting it is a bigger deal than wasting other drinks, and I feel regretful because I didn’t get to appreciate them all the way to their end and guilty because I didn’t do all that I could to make sure they weren’t wasted. He said the cat in the front seat is a healthy cat - an ‘unopened’ one that I haven’t put in danger and that doesn’t have any predetermined threats to its well-being because it’s ‘new’. I wish desperately that I didn’t have to be constantly afraid of losing my FIV boy to an illness, but at the same time I would never want to replace him with a healthy cat even if they were exactly the same - his weakness has made me not only glad I have him in my own care, where I know I’d give anything in my power to keep him healthy and happy - it’s made me and my husband open to the idea of seeking out needy pets in the future that might not otherwise have chances with families. (We also know that we have to be ready for the worst; if a vet tells us our boy isn’t going to be happy or isn’t going to feel healthy, we need to be ready to let go and voluntarily put him down when his quality of life diminishes.) Basically, having the opportunity of the healthy-safe-front-seat-fresh-cat didn’t make me forget or discard the one I’d carried back with me, and I think that’s my brain reaffirming I don’t regret my boi and will protect him with everything I have until I literally can’t anymore.

That was the end of my dream - putting the rescued cat in the back seat safely while acknowledging the other cat. And I woke up with my cat snuggling me, of course. I’ve had a lot of these weirdly detailed dreams lately and I love writing them out. Watchyal got? Anyone??

#dreams #I once dreamt #dream meanings #dream analysis #dream discussion #share your literal dreams!

6 notes · View notes

inklingleesquidly · 5 years

Text

Yo-Fest

Chapter 6

Lee Squidly gets a special call by the headpriestess of Knifefish Shrine to take part in special preparations for one of the biggest holidays celebrated by Inkopolis’ ghostly neighbors, Yokai. Yo-Fest is only a week away and it’s up to Lee to make sure the fesitivies go off without a hitch.

He’s not alone though; joining him is his pals Guist, Juddinyan, and his many Yokai friends who are just a dial away via his Yokai Smartwatch.

Featuring the characters of @askvincent

Chapter 5 available here

Word count: 6,208 words

Lee jolted up with a sharp gasp. From the sheets pooled around his lap, he recognized where he was. He wasn’t home but instead was in the common room of the main pavilion of Knifefish Shrine.

Through desperate pants for air he wondered if what happen to him really happen? Was it a dream? He touched his face and then his chest as a cold sweat rolling down his cheek. Did he really, truly go to the Yokai Realm? What happened after? By now he was desperate to collect his frantic, fragmented thoughts.

Clutching his Yokai Smartwatch, there was something amiss; there was an unshakable feeling that dominated his mind. Before he could give it a moment of thought, the room’s door slid open.

The startled Inkling screeched and squeezed his eyes shut from the light of the outside flooding into the solemn room. Standing there was Lyra, the shrine's head priestess who greeted him with a deep sigh of relief. “Thank goodness you’re finally awake.”

“Miss Lyra?” He groggily questioned? “Miss Lyra!” Suddenly remembered everything that had transpired, he darted up from his futon bed. Without sparing a thought he threw his arms around her waist, elated to see the shrine maiden unharmed. “Miss Lyra are you okay? What happened to us? I-- I—where is everyone? Guist? Juddinyan? A-and--.”

Stern and pragmatic as she always was, Lyra informed him of the grim news. “--They're all gone.” As she politely pushed him back, he got a look at her remorseful stare. “I can’t feel any sort of spiritual presence anywhere. I don’t think King Inkma was kidding around; I believe every Yokai on earth has been called back to the Yokai Realm.”

This feeling Lee had. Everything around him felt so—still, so lifeless, so strangely dismal. Was this a result of all the Yokai being gone? His thoughts raced a mile a minute so he could only babble out his words. “B-but they have to come back! Yo-fest! T-The-They can’t miss it, we--.”

The holy woman silenced him with a hand on his shoulder. “With or without them we'll continue with the ceremony and boffer—ahem, excuse me, offer the bamboo feast as we always have.”

“B-But—But--.”

“No buts.” Her hand fell from his shoulder to her side. “Everything else is out of our mortal hands now. We can only keep going as we always have.”

There were hundreds of things Lee wanted to say and questions he wanted to ask. There was so much he didn’t understand and so much more that troubled him.

In the end all that he could say was, “What do you need me to do today?” The brooding in her voice told him all they could do was accept the outcome fate had dealt to them.

Lyra said, “Today is the harvest. You've done the job I asked you to do so today I'd like you to dake the day off—I mean take the day off.”

“Are you sure?” Lee asked? “Can’t I help you with it at all?”

His offer was expediently declined. “The harvest and preparation of the bamboo is only to be done by the women of the cloth.”

“But--.”

“Lee,” she countered with that firm and strict voice, “You've done more than enough. You risked your life for this shrine, for your friends, and most definitely for me. It’s high time you did something for yourself so do whatever you want before the festival starts. You've earned it.”

As she spun around to leave, that signified she wanted the end of the conversation but Lee couldn’t just leave it at that. “But what about you though?”

The priestess stopped at the door's threshold. It took her a moment to analyze and reply to that question. “Returning to my duties will help me.”

Lee believed her, he really did; she had so much pride in the work she devoted her life to. He kept that in mind yet he couldn’t shake that there was a startling sadness in her voice.

Whatever I want? As much as Lyra suggested he relax, it just wasn’t in Lee to sit around doing nothing. To alleviate this, he resolved to take a stroll around the property.

Making his exit, the first sight he encountered was the normally empty plot of land across the street from the shrine. It was already filled by early rising vendors. The vacant lot belonged to the shrine and was used for events such as tonight's festival. Yo-Fest may have been the main event for him and Lyra but Olden Days, the celebration of Inkopolis's history was also to take place. From here he could see all manner of trucks, trailers, and currently bare stands readying to dispense food and fun.

Food, Lee thought.

He thought back to the first time he came to Knifefish Shrine. “Both fests going on at once is how I get double Tofu Takoyaki,” Juddinyan had said. His shoulders sank when he thought about that so he walked away.

He didn’t get far before coming upon a dry divot in the soil. Days earlier it had been filled with water, making it the sight of one of Leakina's tricks. He thought back to how she made him step into puddle with only his socks on. That moment had previously made him furious but now…

“Huff.” The troubled teen could only let out a sigh. The rest of the day was exactly like that. No matter where he went his mind was flooded with memories he had made during his week at the shrine.

There's the sunflowers the Moleymoreys really liked.

The shrine of the Misty Maiden. It looks so empty now.

That's where Leakina and I both talked.

Everything was so quiet, and so lonely. If not for the gentle lapping of water from the stream it would've been completely encompassing. He wanted to hear Guist cheerfully blather about how good the weather was, to see Juddinyan hop and bound through the tall grass, or even for Leakina to flick water in his face.

Anything...

Maybe some food would help clear his mind? A trip to the convenience store just a block away was in order. With a bag of sour cream & onion chips and a bottle of cola, the smallest of smiles found its way to his face as he returned to the shrine.

RRROOOOOM

A bus rolled by him, coming to a halt at the weathered wooden bench just below the stoop leading up to the shrine. That was the same stop where Kakkonyan and Wanderzan arrived.

Seeing that made Lee weakly toss his half-empty containers of food in the trash, his appetite gone. That pit in his stomach just couldn’t be filled by junk food.

Being so preoccupied with his thoughts, he failed to notice how the collection of the bamboo had been proceeding. At first he wondered how long ago were the morning prayers? No matter how much time had passed he was still impressed at how the entire field was almost completely cleared away by all of the shrine maidens.

There was one particular scene that caught his eye. It was two Inkling girls, the youngest of the priestesses in-training that he was familiar with. From his distance, Lee couldn’t tell what they were talking about but he could see one of them holding something out in her hand for the other to see. She then threw whatever it was up in the air with a hearty laugh.

Seeing that made him hang his head low; remembering Guist haphazardly throwing seeds everywhere when they first started. Heaving another heavy sigh, he solemnly brushed his tentacles out of his face. No matter where he went it was just impossible not to think about them, and miss them.

“Ohh Lee.”

ACCCK!

He failed to notice someone had approached him. “Wha--? Oh Kaitlyn,” he breathed with ease, “I'm sorry I was just kinda, umm, thinking.”

The quiet anemone aologized cordially. “I'm so sorry for scaring you.”

“Nah,” Lee interrupted with a wave of his hand, trying to play it off like she didn’t actually startle him.

“Sister Lyra has a special surprise for you.” She grabbed his hand and jerked his arm, hurrying him along to follow her. “Come on, we can't keep her waiting.”

They found the head priestess at the rear of the base of the shrine where she was giving directions to other maidens. “Fantastic, we have even more than we did last year.” She said, pointing to the harvest crop piled high in plastic buckets. Tapping at a tablet computer’s screen she then gave further instructions. “Okay, take them to be boiled and don’t forget which batch is for frying and which is for stewing.”

Turning around, Lyra jolted at the sight of her trainee with the high-strung Inkling. “Ohh! Oh it's you two. Kaitlyn what have I told you about sneaking up on people? It's rude!”

“Forgive me Sister Lyra.” Kaitlyn said in that hushed voice of hers, bowing her head, “But I found Lee just like you asked.”

With a modest wave, Lee asked, “You have a surprise for me, Miss Lyra?”

“Yes actually,” she confirmed, “And here it is.” He never would've expected her to slide an apparel box into his arms. The priestess exclaimed, “It's a token of thanks for everything you've done. Go ahead, open it.”

Lee was rather hesitant at first; due largely to how beautifully wrapped the rectangular package was. The paper was a smooth muted brown color that hadn’t a mark or blemish on it, and the whole thing was secured with a green ribbon tied in an ornate bow. When he looked up to see Lyra giving a hurrying gesture, he tore the packaging apart to unearth his gift inside.

It was some sort of cloth; colored black and gray with what he noticed were pieces of silver speckled material stuck to the gray portions. He removed it from the box to watch as it unfurled within his hands. He marveled at his gift with an awestruck “Oh my stars,” only to dumbly ask, “Is it some kind of bath robe?”

That managed to get Lyra to snicker. “What, that? Well you’re close, it's a yukata like they wear for festivals in the east. The girls all pitched in to help sew it for you.”

“I made the collar.” Kaitlyn declared.

Lyra clarified, “You helped with the collar.” She then revealed, “We each gave our own blessings when we were making it so keep that in mind. Every time you wear it you carry a little bit of all of us here at Knifefish Shrine with you.”

With an inquisitive smile and a twinkle in his eye, Lee breathed out. “I love it.” He did inquire after slipping it on, “Is there a special way that you're supposed to wear this?”

How he tried to cross the right side of the garment over the left got another little chuckle out of Lyra. “No,” she said, covering her mouth with her palm. “Kaitlyn, please take him and show him how to do it right.”

Kaitlyn quickly agreed, confirming with a submissive bow. “Yes ma'am.” She said, grabbing at Lee's wrist again in spite of protests he gave.

“W-wait, isn't there a guy who can show me how?” His modesty against the opposite sex fell on deaf ears as Lyra returned to her work. In that moment he really analyzed how she conducted herself with him and her subordinates. Maybe it was true what she said; returning to her normal life really did do the trick for her. She was back to normalcy despite such an unfathomable event. Or so he thought…

It did not take long for him to be fitted into his festival garb and he was quite relieved when Kaitlyn suggested he could wear his clothes underneath. With a feel-good spring in his step he rushed to meet Lyra again to show her only to be informed that she had retreated to the bathhouse. Sure enough he did find her there, alone and mysteriously crouched on the faux-stone floor.

“Miss Lyra?” Lee whispered.

Whipping her head around, Lyra gasped. “Ohh, Lee!” She stood up sharply, a handful of rubble from the statue clutched in her hands. “I was just,” she sputtered unsurely before clearing her throat, “I can’t believe I've been gone less than a day and nobba—ahem, not one girl here comes to clean up this mess. I'm going to have them all spit shine the entire shrine from top to bottom for this.”

Her shortness of breath, the somber look in her eyes, the way she so tightly held the statue’s broken pieces; despite her best attempts there was no hiding how troubled she was. The priestess was quick to realize he saw through her façade with the downtrodden stare he offered her in response.

Carefully approaching the subject, Lee inquired, “What's on your mind Miss Lyra?”

“We went to the Yokai Realm, Lee. No living mortal is ever meant to pass into that world.” He failed to comprehend the true weight of their experience as the grave look in her eyes shown. “We both saw things not meant for mortal eyes and yet here we both are. It makes me think. Who am I? Where am I even going? I know my purpose is my faith,” she clutched her chest, “I know that with all my heart but deep down I feel there's so much missing.”

Confused, uncertainty, utterly lost; we had felt those exact feelings before, himself. Due to very recent events in his life he was making greater strides to find himself on his own terms. As for Lyra had been marinating in those thoughts longer than he had so what could he hope to do to even attempt to help her? The only thought he had was to extend his hand, literally reaching out to her to signify their common ground.

Just as he tried, the bath water suddenly began to drain away. Lyra panicked but watching as the rising steam gathered together, Lee knew precisely what that meant.

The portal to the Yokai Realm was opening!

YA HA HA HA!

A laugh echoed from beyond; a mirthful, mischievous laugh one might mistake for malicious.

YA HA HA HA!

It sounded again, that ghastly laugh ringing louder in their ears as it drew closer. Whatever this mystery was it was solved in an instant as none other than Leakina herself came soaring through the open gate.

Both Inklings were utterly astonished to see her, so much that neither could follow her movements as she twirled her ghostly body around Lee.

“Heeeey Leeker!” She squealed with boundless joy.

His eyes spun with dizziness in trying to follow her, so much that he could only stammer out his response. “Wha-bhu-ahh, Leakina?”

“Lyra!” The watery specter fastly turned her attention to the priestess; uncoiling herself from Lee and circling her arms around the young woman's neck. Their eyes met, Leakina grinned from ear to ear as she hovered closer and closer within Lyra's space.

Her sudden proximity caused the maiden's cheek to become flushed. “Leakina,” she whispered. “Water you-- whudder—what are you doing here?” Her brow furrowed, remembering the damage she had done and how she was furious with her. “You're supposed to be ban—UMMF!”

Was it the spontaneous, unpredictable nature of Yokai? Perhaps it was the feelings Leakina held deep within her heart? Whatever it was, Lee lurched back in surprise as he watched Lyra be silenced with a kiss right on the lips. Was it as much a shock to her as it was to him? He was unsure because she didn’t appear to offer even a hint of resistance or displeasure from it.

Before he knew it someone else came barreling through the portal. “Cowabunga dude!”

“Guist!” Lee gave a joyful gasp as he watched the squid spirit soar toward him.

“Cus!” Guist cried through emotional, misty eyes.

Neither needed to exchange any more words; Lee held out his arms to the pint sized poltergeist as he flew straight into a squeezing hug.

That wasn’t all though; an excited MRROW sounded from the coolest cat in the Yokai Realm and the Mortal World as he came bounding into the bathhouse.

Lee called out breathlessly. “Juddinyan!” The agile feline jumped onto the teenager, climbing his way under his shirt, and up his body. Though those razor sharp claws painfully dug into his flesh again and again, Lee could only laugh to the point of tears from his happiness.

Popping his head out through Lee's collar, Juddinyan inquired, “Did you me'iss us?”

“Only a whole lot!” Lee answered straight away, shrugging Juddinyan off his back but catching him in his arms in order to embrace both him and Guist and never let go.

There was so much happiness and most especially love in the bathhouse as the Yokai and mortal Inklings were reunited. It didn’t last long as one more entity stepped out, the very aura that they emitted causing every eye to be upon them.

Lyra was the first to point them out. “Lord Inkma!” She threw herself to the ground, followed by everyone else in observance of the arrival of the Yokai sovereign.

As he made his approach he declared, “Arise. I have important matters to discuss, and they have to do with you.” He pointed an accusatory finger to Lee.

“Me?” Lee pointed to himself.

Inkma began to explain. “It is forbidden for mortals to enter the Yokai Realm.”

“But I--.” Lee tried to start.

“—I know you came to rescue your friend.” Inkma finished for him, “But good intentions do not excuse breaking the laws of our world.” Glancing around at the other occupants of the bathhouse, nobody had an argument to offer, especially not with what Inkma said next. “You are also guilty of multiple counts of a crime of harboring escaped criminals.”

With a snap of his fingers three clouds of black smoke appeared beside him, dissipating away to reveal all three of the Yokai criminals along with those attached to them.

Boss Moley spoke on behalf of himself and his assembly of Moleymoreys. “We had our fun but we got a bone to pick with that skunk.”

With a hand on Tropicanna’s shoulder, Dehydreaded said, “I just wanted my little flower back. I’m ready to serve out the rest of my time.”

“I’ll come visit you every day, Daddy.” Tropicanna added with a hug around her father’s waist.

Finally, Paranumbra complained, “There’s too much light here, even at night! I want to go back to my dark prison cell.”

King Inkma walked forward, speaking directly to Lee. “The law of the Yokai Realm is that fate should fit one’s character so this will be your punishment.” He stopped in front of him; despite their similar appearances, King Inkma’s firm, statuesque stance trounced Lee’s nervous and hunched demeanor. The Yokai King gave his judgement. “Because of your kindness and ease of friendship towards others you will become the Ambassador of Mortal and Yokai Affairs. Whenever there is trouble between worlds you will be the one to answer the call.”

The Ambassador of Mortal and Yokai Affairs? Lee could only stand there, dumbfounded as question after question arose in his mind. There was one in particular that King Inkma seemed to answer of his own accord, leading Lee to wonder if the monarch was psychic?

“If you refuse then look into the celestial mirror to see what will become of you.” He held up the mirror that hung around his neck. “What do you see?”

“Mm-Myself,” Lee answered. It was a mirror after all.

“What else?” Inkma replied.

He peered closer. Was there something he was missing? “I don’t see anything.”

“That’s right,” revealed Inkma. “If you refuse then you will spend eternity in purgatory. You will not receive judgement for your deeds in life, and you won’t even become a Yokai.”

This ultimatum brought about a stunned silence to everyone present. Even the Yokai criminals were at a loss for words.

The king asserted, “What’s it going to be?”

Now all eyes were on Lee. How was he possibly going to answer? The vague weight of such a responsibility placed upon him by the most intimidating Yokai of both worlds was unfathomably insurmountable

“That sounds fair, I’ll do it!”

Nobody had known the frustration this last week had brought him; how he felt so miserable that he contemplated dropping his smartwatch in the river. He wanted to be done with Yokai forevermore. In spite of that that though, the mere hours not knowing what would become of the friends he made felt so much worse. He didn’t want to go through again.

“Do I get a badge or something?” The eager boy queried while shaking his clenched fists.

Inkma answered with a stern, “No.” He folded his hands behind his back and lifted his head in contemplation. “Now that that’s settled there’s the matter of this new portal being opened. We’re going to need to find a guard to watch it.”

Straight away, Leakina pushed Lee aside, eagerly waving her hand. “Ooo, me! Me! Pick me! I’ll do it!”

“The job is yours,” Inkma decided without a second thought. “There’s also the problem that our new Ambassador needs a chronicler; someone to be in charge of receiving and recording all of your assignments.”

This time Guist was the one to rush in. He cried out excitedly, “Dude! I’ll do it!”

“Done, you’re the Ambassador’s Chronicler.” Inkma tapped his chin, puzzled by one last order of business. “Now you just need a savvy partner knowledgeable of both worlds to shadow you on each endeavor.”

“Meow?” Juddinyan raised a single paw.

That was well enough for King Inkma who said, “Excellent, glad we could make this easy.” It was all happening so fast, Lee could barely keep up. What’s worse was the Yokai monarch decided their business was finished. “Now then, I’m returning to the Yokai Realm with these criminals. We’ll be in touch for your first assignment, whenever that will be.” With that, he returned to the three convicts, all disappearing In the same puffs of smoke as they arrived.

He might have strong armed into the job but what did Lee really get himself into? That thought was shaken out of his head as he suddenly felt Leakina leaning all of her weight on his shoulder.

“YA HA HA HA, isn’t this great Leeker?” She laughed right into his ear. “We’re gonna see even more of each other than ever.”

Guist hovered in front of Lee, happily wiggling not only his tentacles but his whole body. “This is mondo cool Cus, we’re gonna be chillin’ so much too!”

Finally, Juddinyan hopped up excitedly, eager at what was to come. “We’ll be able to go to the Meowkai Realm whenever we want. Isn’t that great?”

“Yeah,” Lee readily agreed, “That’s all great!” He meant that sincerely, he wouldn’t want it any other way. However, he had something to address with the Yokai. “If we’re going to do that though I think we need to set some ground rules first.”

Later that night...

The time had come at last; with the sun setting and the shroud of night rolling over the city, the celebrations were ready to begin. Creatures all throughout Inkopolis gathered at the humble Knifefish Shrine for Older Days Fest. Unknowingly, they rubbed shoulders with their invisible poltergeist neighbors who were assembling for their most beloved holiday of all, Yo-Fest.

Paper lanterns and fiery torches decorated the shrine, a clash of old-fashioned aesthetics against the modern trucks and carnival rides a mere walking distance away. Acting as a makeshift stage, everyone turned to the main pavilion as Lyra stepped forward to address the crowd.

“Welcome one and all.” She spoke into a microphone that amplified her voice into speakers arranged around the main hall. “Thank you for coming to Inkopolis’s annual Olden Days Festival. Now, Olden Days as we know it is a celebration of our city’s long and wonderful cultural heritage. From the very first settlers who came from the east, our history is rich with the stories of many different species but there is another side to today’s celebration.”

The head priestess extended her arms outward, elaborating further. “Today we honor the spirits that coexist in our world and impact our lives in ways we can’t possibly imagine. Whether they be the souls of the dearly departed or even the spirits of the smallest pebbles beneath our feet, tonight is the night to remember our connection to the world that neighbors our own.”

With that, her subordinates and even Lee filed in with the prepared bamboo. One by one they settled down plates, bowls, and baskets filled with prepared meals in front of main hall. As they did, Lyra continued with her address. “To guide and appease the spirits we offer this sacrifice of bamboo as a testament the longevity of our union to each other.”

Spirits? Neighboring world? Sacrifice offering? To many in the crowd she was speaking utter mumbo jumbo, old-age religious nonsense that they boredly awaited her to finish. Onlookers in the crowd thought the priestess to be crazy as they watched her look to her side and hold out an open hand to nothing.

Of course, those like Lee and Kaitlyn could see that she wasn’t reaching out to nothing. Leakina had been standing beside her the entire time and when Lyra stretched out her hand, the watery wraith silently but tenderly rested her hand in the young woman’s palm. Only they could see the two turn to each other as Lyra enthusiastically stated, “As head priestess of Knifefish Shrine I declare Olden Days started!”

The crowd dispersed and the festivities went into full swing with Lee joining the collection of hundreds of mortals and yokai with Guist and Juddinyan at his side. Over the music and merriment, they finally had a chance to inform their friend of what had happened after the battle with Goredinator.

“The king-dude was seriously cheesed off about the whole thing, he was totally about to blow his lid but then we reminded him that it was almost time for Yo-Fest.”

Juddinyan added, “He was meowly excited bout the bamboo feast.”

“But not nearly as hyped as getting to see his Pops like he said.” Guist let out a laugh as he bobbed in the air. “How d’ya like that Cus, Yo-Fest totally saved our bacon!”

Lee could help but join them in chuckling at such happenstance. “Heh-eh, you know what, I do like that.”

Even though he did laugh, Lee couldn’t help but dwell on that thought about King Inkma and his pops. He had wondered this entire time what was Yo-Fest all about and he was starting to figure out what.

Yokai as he knew them always caused trouble for mortal creatures. It was in their nature to cause mischief yet all around him he saw them calmly hovering over them. From families to single visitors, some had yokai that stuck to them like glue, even if they couldn’t be seen. Those visiting the nearby cemetery were a sight to see.

The young Inkling had a strong feeling he knew why and he suspected it had to do with what Lyra said about the unity and harmony between yokai and mortals. As joyous as it was to see all kinds mingling together, and for him to be back with his best pals there was a longing in Lee’s heart that he couldn’t shake. It was something that seeing all of this made him yearn for even harder.

“Lee! Lee! Oh Honey, there you are!”

Was his mind playing tricks on him? That voice he heard, it couldn’t have been who he thought it was? He focused forward, searching through the crowd. There was; waving her hand above the crowd, eyes twinkling with delight as they spotted each other.

“MOM!” Lee nearly screamed. He took off, dashing the short distance into a waiting hug.

Squeezing her son with all her strength, Janine happily greeted him. “Ohh Sweetie, even though it was only a week, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too Mom.” His grip around her did not loosen, even as hers did.

“Everything here looks great,” she said, finally managing to peel him away. “Of course it would be with you helping out.” He modestly shrugged his shoulders, unable to take the praise knowing all of the preparations weren’t his doing. His thoughts were shaken by her brushing his tentacles out of his face and dusting the front of his robe. “That yukata makes you look so handsome, is it really handmade?” She continued inquiring. “Did you have a good time while you were here? I bet you're itchin' to come home, huh?”

Honestly? “I had a great time!” That wasn’t untrue but he decided it would be best to omit all the details about his numerous brushes with death, and going to a parallel dimension. “Actually,” Lee added, “Could I stay one more day? Just to help clean up when the festival is over and hang out with my friends a little more?”

Janine's face gleamed with a shining smile as she replied, “Of course Honey. I'll swing by and pick you up tomorrow, but before that I brought a nice picnic dinner for us.” In his excitement, Lee didn’t notice the wicker basket cradled in the crook of her arm until she slid it into his grasp.

Gingerly opening the basket, he let out a dramatic gasp upon inspecting its contents. “Haa-- heh-- h'oh my stars,” he stuttered. “Salmon Bagel sandwiches, mom’s macaroni & cheese, and-- and--,” he was too taken in by one other thing to pay attention to the plastic container of steamed greens. “I-is that chocolate cake?”

Janine anticipated he would be fonnd of that as she clarified, “Baked it this afternoon. I even brought your favorite ice cream too.”

Hearing that couldn't stop his lips from quivering and his eyes from watering. After a week of delivered dinners and gas station ramen, one of his mom's home cooked meals was like a gift from heaven. “Ara ara,” she giggled, “I’ll be right back with it, I left it in a cooler in the car. We'll find a nice place to eat and you can tell me all about this week. Love you, Sweetie.”

“Hiff, love you too Mom.” Lee tried his best to control his sniffling, unable to believe he was so emotional over food.

As she walked out of sight, Leakina hovered over with a look of awe on her face. “Whoa, is that your Mom, Leeker? Good choice, you picked a real pretty one.”

Her inquisition made Lee chuckle. “Heh-eh, I didn’t choose my mom.”

“Really?” Leakina wondered. “I did. Yokai pick their own families and speaking of which, my sisters are coming right now.”

“Your what?” Lee repeated.

Right before their eyes, he watched as a bevy of yokai that looked just like Leakina rise out of drinking cups strewn about the festival area. His eyes darted all around as he watched them appear. There was a pink Leakina, then white, orange, and finally cola colored one that appeared before them.

“THERE'S MORE OF THEM?!” One was more than enough. And the prospect of several Leakinas made Lee scream. “AHHHHHHHH!” He ran in the opposite direction but not before reflexively hurling the picnic basket up in the air.

It was safely caught by Leakina who curiously asked Guist and Juddinyan. “What's wrong with him?” Their answer was an unknowing shrug of their shoulders.

The rest of the night went on without a hitch for mortals and yokai alike with fun, food, and frolics. It was soon time for the midnight fireworks. Janine had already gone home to Shee-Booyah for the night , leaving Lee to his devices at the shrine. He exited the main hall after setting his phone down to charge only to have Guist spiral in front of his face. “Sup Cus! Peep this, the whole crew is here to watch the fireworks tonight with us!” There on the stoop was Juddinyan laying on his back, Leakina, and surprisingly Kakkonyan and Wanderzan to.

“Hiiii-nyah,” Kakkonyan waved a candied apple he held in his paw.

Meanwhile, Wanderzan coolly greeted, “Sup Homie.”

Lee grinned, “Heh-eh, glad you guys could make it!”

As he sat down, Guist eagerly danced about in the air. “Woo-hoo, this is gonna be the raddest, most excellent thing ever! I never saw fireworks before.”

As the pint sized spirit babbled, Lee felt a nudging at his arm. Leakina offered a candied apple, whispering, “Psst. I snagged the last one of these for you Leeker. If I didn’t then the fur ball would have gotten them all.” Upon closer inspection, Juddinyan was soundly sleeping with a satisfied smile on his face, holding his swelled belly with four discarded sticks at his side.

“Hey thanks,” appreciating the gesture with a nibble on the sweet, crunchy treat, Lee took a seat on the wooden veranda. It felt so oddly quiet despite all of the activity going on at the festival grounds. To Lee, this silent stillness was a reprieve from the craziness he had endured the entire week. However what should have been relaxing was blanketed by a sudden strange feeling though.

The unnerved boy caught Leakina sitting beside him out of the corner of his vision, and she was oddly staring at him.

“What?” He asked curiously?

She swiftly answered, “Oh nothing, nothing.” After a momentary pause she added, “It's just pretty amazing how you came through for everybody and saved Yo-Fest.” Lee could only throw her an unsure look so she elaborated further. “You helped out Lyra, all those bad guys who gave us a hard time, and you kicked that big red jerk's butt!”

Ever modest, Lee replied with a shake of his head. “I didn’t really do a whole lot, you guys are the ones who did all the heavy lifting.”

That answer made Leakina tap her fists against her hips and grimace at him. "Well Mr. Modesty,” she snapped back, “If there’s one person you did a lot for its me.”

“What?” He muttered.

“Yeah, I mean look at me now; I’ve got my own home to haunt, I got a job, and I even got a girlfriend!” Leakina proudly proclaimed all of the things she had achieved.

“Girlfriend?” Lee repeated with keen interest.

There was a moment of backpedaling. “Well-- Lyra’s not quite there yet with the whole idea but she’ll come around. Why wouldn’t she? Who could say no to all this?” She made a gesture of presenting herself, the act of which made Lee unable to keep from eyeing her with a scoffing smirk.

Once she finished, she returned to the main topic. “Don’t even try to deny it.” The watery woman leaned toward him, her weight on one arm. “You did a lot for me, and it means a lot that you did, so thanks for everything Leeker.”

That genuine appreciative tone in her voice; it seemed as though she really meant what she said. All he had to do was give a simple “you’re welcome” but instead it came out as a nervous stutter. “W-well, it wasn’t anything really, ee—really I--,” he was then left at a complete loss for words. He felt a gentle, damp sensation on his skin as Leakina leaned in to give her hero a kiss of gratitude on his cheek.

Though he was stunned by that act, he was somehow able to find the words he was looking for. “Gosh Leakina, it was nothing, really, but uhh, watch where you're putting that water bottle.”

“What water bottle?” She asked with a sheepish grin, pulling her hand away and discreetly trying to hide a leaking bottle of water.

That battle ended before it began; segued by a series of explosions signifying the beginning of the long-awaited fireworks show. Guist gave a roar of a cheer as he pumped and wiggled his pale tentacles with so much excitement, almost stealing the show himself.

As Lee reclined back on one arm, he found his mind wandering as he really took in everything around him. To one side he could see Kakkonyan circling his arm around the shoulder of a glaring Wanderzan. On the other side was Juddinyan, wearing away the time in a peaceful, gluttonous slumber. Above him was Guist who served as a beacon of wonder and excitement as he fluttered about with so much earnest joy in his heart. Finally, right beside him was Leakina; someone he had endured variably endless, cruel bullying and humiliation from. Now, according to her he completely changed her afterlife around for the better.

He had heard a mantra once before; “When a Yokai enters your life, it will never be the same ever again.” For Lee he didn’t want to fathom what life would be like without the friends he had right here, the friends he was glad to stay with forever.

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #nintendo #yokai #fan fiction #lee squidly

2 notes · View notes

wordsmeansomethingsometimes-blog · 6 years

Text

A weird dream I had about my dad about a week ago

I just woke up from a weird dream. My dad and I attended one of my soccer games just as we would when I was a kid except I was 27 as I am now. The field was indoor and I was playing on a house league team. The field was connected to a No Frills and a large outdoor park with a path and a marina and boats. They say that you never dream up original things, so I will have to assume that this building and park was a collection of scenes and architecture from many buildings and parks that I've seen in real life.

Anyway, in the dream I played a little bit for the team and I suppose I was surprised to find out that I still have relative skills to my peers of the same age despite not playing for so many years. I discovered how out of shape and breath I was too. So I didn't play long before asking to come off...it was just a friendly game, kind of more of practice really than a game. When I came off I just ran off and then told one of these 2 black guys on my team “Im taking a break one of you should take over” and walked away with my dad as if I didn’t even care about the outcome of the rest of the game. We just left. I suppose if I were to do dream-analysis, it would be an interesting point that we just left. Never in my life have I actually done that in a game. Back at that age that I used to play soccer (14 and previous), I was a very competitive person, especially in sports. I thought winning was all there was: the only thing that mattered.

I suppose when I first started smoking weed is when I realized that the competitive culture of sports is not always fun. Perhaps it was weed, perhaps it was puberty, and perhaps it was just what was going on in my head at that stage in my life. Sometimes you're just sitting there on the bench because you thought you wanted to play professional which meant you thought you wanted to make it onto the best team possible.

So now you've tried out for this team 3 or 4 times and finally made it on, but you're one of the worst players on the team so now you spend most of your time on the bench. Not only does this hurt your pride, but it also makes you low down on the hierarchy of the team, which you are new to, so even though you're a social person, you don’t have many friends, and are too pubescent and awkward and shy to make friends. Some of the guys are even dicks and you resent the fact that you represent the same team as them. So what went from a fun experience of always having playing time and being respected and liked as one of the best players, what went from being social, is now this lonely, miserable experience and you retreat into your head and analyze people and their psychology as you sit there bored on the sidelines, hardly even able to concentrate on the game or its outcome, because you've never known what it was like to be a benchwarmer until now. Come to think of it, I had a lot of experiences like that when I was young, where I got to see how being on the bottom felt like, even though I was used to being fortunate enough to be on the top in pretty much every other domain. Long story short, I think something hallucinogenic like marijuana combined with puberty is the perfect situation to open a young man's eyes to different aspects of consciousness and reality that he had not yet focussed on before.

We then walked directly from the field around a corner into the No Frills. We went to the Aisle with the Sodas and I got 2 waters for us and my dad asked If I wanted to buy a soccer ball for us to kick around outside. I said “yeah sure okay I guess, but I bought a brand new ball last summer, so I don't really need it”. “That's okay we'll get it anyway. I'll pay”. I knew that he didn't want to buy a ball or buy me a ball, he simply wanted to kick the ball around with me outside for my sake completely, maybe for nostalgia or maybe he never really enjoyed such things but did them because he thinks I liked them. I remember as a kid that my dad never looked like he really enjoyed playing sports, he merely did it to make us happy. He's never been very athletic, as my mom and her whole side of the family are.

Our conversation was awkward and limited but I felt no anxiety, I felt the same way I had felt about my dad for a long time, that I could be honest with him, unlike I usually could with my mom or even most people I've met in my life. He asked me if I like this team, I said I barely even show up to the games or practices and that the coach was lazy and had cancelled all the practices at some point. I told him last season I signed up but never showed up to anything. As we were walking along the path to the outdoor soccer field to kick the ball around, we passed a few boats at the marina but I didn’t pay attention to them. We kicked the ball around, and I exerted myself a little bit doing some fancied dribbling and ball control, which I wanted to see if I could still do, but also wanted to show my dad I could still do. I exerted myself a little more than I should have, as I usually do at this age. I haven't come to realize yet how much my metabolism and body has slowed down and changed. My dad exerted himself a little too much too, even though he didn’t really do anything but kick the ball back to me. So we realized we were tired and needed some more cold drinks and maybe some blood-sugar so we needed juice or pops, and decided to walk back to the No Frills. This was typical of my dad and our limited outings with him as children. We always went to dinner and then went to some park and kicked a ball around but my dad always wanted to leave the park after like 10 or 15 minutes and usually at least I, if not my brother too, wanted to play more than 15 minutes, and found it ridiculous to even drive out of the way to a park to only play for 15 minutes. But we never protested or complained, as me might have done with my mom. Looking back, the reason we never protested or complained was this unspoken principle that my brother must have experienced but I didn't but he somehow passed on to me which was “if you ask him for too much or bother him too much he’ll just leave completely and then you won't have ANY outings or any fun at all, so some fun is better than nothing”. It was always weird, how I didn't complain to him, as the youngest, about such things, but somehow knew I shouldnt. Anyway, we walked back to the No Frills, and on the way I noticed that 3 or 4 of 8 or so boats in the small Marina pond were actually Honda Civics converted into boats. I said to my dad “you see that? Those are actually civics” as if I thought it was cool or interesting. My dad said “yeah but...to me..if you're going to be outside on a boat on such a nice day, you want to be able to see everything around you 360 degrees”. I said “yeah I guess that's true” in a “oh shit, I guess I hadn’t really thought of that”. It was one of the rare moments me and my dad had a typical dad to son moment that was mutually beneficial and not filled with any hard feelings from either side. In fact, the whole 1 or 2 hours that we spent together was like this. So we go back in the No Frills, and I know we want cold drinks, like pops. We buy some from the machine. My dad puts in a 20 dollar bill and immediately all the change comes out in loonies and toonies, which I bent down to pick up for him. There's a basket with these drinks from some obviously third-world country like India, that advertise that they have small amounts of Methamphetamine in them. Like lime-flavoured, meth-energy drinks. I pause for a second because I don't believe my eyes, and pick one up. My dad is like “are you kidding me? Don't drink those...do you know what those are? If you've been working like 30 hours and you're dead those will spring you back to life but probably give you a heart attack or something”. My mind flashed to a video I’d seen of some guy in Thailand on meth, where the title was “thai work conditions so harsh that ordinary people resort to crystal meth just to function in their daily work lives. I have no idea why this whole thing popped into my dream, and what it symbolizes. My dad has never tried very hard to warn me about any specific drugs or anything like that. He's never liked me smoking weed, and he wasn't happy when he found out through the grapevine that I had tied other things once or twice, but he’s also never really tried to lecture me about anything. As unnatural a parent as he has always seemed to be, once I saw myself as an adult he became useful to me as a parent, whereas my mom stopped being useful. It was like she couldn't bear to see me as a potential equal or adult, she has and still does maintain that I'm a kid and takes this “you need to be told you poor thing” tone with me, all the time. I said “yeah, yeah, I know. I’d never want those.” And then we took the elevator down to the underground car-park, so he could drive me home. I guess I’d gotten there on my own, without my car, and we’d met, I don't know. When we came out in the underground, I saw that it stretched for like 500 metres, really long, surprisingly long for a simple no frills with a small indoor soccer court attached. I said “holy shit...this parking is big” My dad said “yeah. It's bigger than banks ones even. And they have the biggest” or something like that. And then I woke up. It was weird. There was just so much random stuff going on, that I don’t know what it symbolizes. I'm not used to having dreams, as THC suppresses REM sleep, and I smoke weed every night. I will continue to write about the ones that I do remember.

1 note · View note

itshaykuni · 5 years

Text

ON HOW I FELL IN LOVE WITH READING

“Read. If you have finished reading something, read more.” This is what I used to hear when I was a little restless schoolgirl whose mind was full of vivid dreams and fantasies. For a child whose tiny brain was fully occupied by imaginary universes and characters, there was no space left for those created by someone else’s imagination. And since my eyes were always in search of something close to my imaginary worlds - colorful, engaging, breathtakingly adventurous - staring at the dull wooden white pages filled with nothing but black letters seemed to be a torture to me.

On the other hand, I was the youngest in my family and in the circle of friends, and to be taken seriously, I had to gain authority and trust among them. So I was looking to be an excellent student and reach farther than my peers to establish my authority. And I knew - reading is something that brilliant kids do, whereas the weaker ones hate, so I have to do it as well. This would be a huge additional bonus on my way of getting praise and trust.

This attitude was my first and biggest misconception about reading - doing it only to get praise and recognition, not delving into the mesmerizing new worlds yet undiscovered by me. And alongside this rather toxic attitude, I stumbled upon a serious problem in my elementary school years. Regardless of the fascinating speed, as claimed by my teachers, at which I could process any information I was given, I soon noticed a thing that started to worry me more with each passing year. I was always the last to finish reading something in my class. Reading one page took me 2 times more than my peers. My mother's first response to this was, naturally, that everything was fine, and my classmates were just too lazy to read every word of every sentence. That is why, she’d say, I could process information better than them - because I read everything thoroughly. Her explanation sounded convincing enough. It was only 15 years later that I came across the term ‘dyslexia’.

With time, I noticed that, after reading a couple of pages in a row, I was feeling physically tired, even though I was an eternal engine as a child. It felt like I had sprinted a couple of kilometers with my tiny legs. Dizziness, low levels of energy would play cruel tricks with my eyes and brain. With each passage, it was becoming harder for me to connect one word with another, sometimes I would spend a minute to see and read one word. Not that the letters jumped around as rabbits, just keeping the attention on the character deciphering was hard. And it sucked, I felt an extremely unpleasant discomfort.

Physically painful and heavy - a human will do anything to avoid a task that has these two qualities, at least for as long as that human is at middle school. And if reading takes those qualities upon itself, adding even a grain of dullness to a text can instantaneously make finishing it impossible. Whatever our teachers assigned to read were particularly uninteresting - none of the stories about simple village boys and their grandfathers related to me - a girl who had never been in a rural community and, in her fantasies, was riding a green-scaled dragon over the mountain forests and exploring the seas with Sinbad on a longship with enormous sails. And the poems about our favorite Holy Mountain would literally drive me crazy. Literature classes mostly seemed bullshit to me, and I wasn’t sure if I was right or if I just couldn’t find and see and understand the beauty in those pieces.

At high school, I gave up on pleasing the grown-ups and getting out of my own skin to be an excellent student. Instead, I started to explore my own likes and dislikes, thus not feeling too obligated to read whatever we were assigned. Even though the authors and literary pieces we studied diversified a bit over time, I admitted one simple truth - Armenian literature was not for me. So I started to give attention to stories that were able to capture my attention. Still, whatever interested me the most wasn’t translated into my native language, making reading way more difficult and even slower than usual, no matter how well I could comprehend the language. And as a top cherry, I was a dramatic teenager more interested in socializing, getting stories first-hand from real people rather than closing up in a room and staring at the pages of heavy books.

As I was graduating from high school and applying to a bachelor's degree, I had to do a ton of obligatory reading, having left no time and desire to find something that would truly relate to me. Things started to slowly change by the variety of books offered on the internet and my improved skills in foreign languages. I had the opportunity to explore online libraries as a student, but still, no matter how deep I searched, none of my findings would really come close to my heart. And my reading speed just didn’t seem to improve with time, which was truly enraging me.

With my ‘Oh well, okay’ reaction to whatever I read, soon I thought I had to accept the fact that reading simply wasn’t enjoyable for me and come to terms with that once and for all. So, I abandoned my attempts of forcing myself to like reading and allowed myself the luxury to only read whatever I really wanted, whenever I wanted it and for as much as it was light and enjoyable. Instead, visual media is what I could swim in like a fish. As I fell in the addictive loop of mindlessly checking social media pages and quickly found my way out of it, I discovered invaluable resources on the way like TED Talks, online courses in history, art, psychology, design, photography, videography, journalism, and even literature. These platforms opened new galaxies for me. As I explored so many new topics, global social problems and authors, I soon started to figure out my taste in everything, literature as well.

Due to self-reflection that had grown roots during my high-school years and gradually increased over time, I realized something incredible. My emotional intelligence and non-verbal communication (especially analyzing and understanding the latter) had grown unbelievably. I surely knew it wasn’t only due to growing up, and not the “enormous” experience from communicating to different people. It was also the reading’s doing. I glanced back upon some of the authors I had read- Weber, Hesse, Palahniuk, Akutagawa, Mayne Reid, Christie and Doyle, Fitzgerald, Phillip Dick and many others. To be honest, very often the real value and meaning of the books I read would come to me much later after certain events had taken place in my life. No matter how slow I’d read, no matter how uninterested I was in the obligatory literature, no matter that over 15 years I hadn’t been able to find a book that I would actually like, literature had a great influence on shaping my personality, empathy and perception. That brought hope back to me - perhaps I wasn’t as pitiful as a literature person as I thought I was.

Soon I stumbled upon several books from reading which I received a marvelous experience. The first one was just a 300-page self-help book I purchased in Berlin. Even though it was way far from being a literary masterpiece, I was in need of those pieces of advice and reminders, so it only made a positive influence on me. What mattered the most, though, was the speed with which I finished the book - 10 days only, during travel! That was a personal record for me that raised my hopes a level higher - hopes that I’ll be able to read a book (with normal speed) and enjoy it like normal people do.

After that, I again abandoned my attempts to commit to reading. But one fine spring day when I was browsing my YouTube recommendations, I found a stunning documentary about the most impressive bookstores in the world. In it, the author Mas Joseph shares his anxiety about reading and his endless love for books and bookstores. Nothing could relate me more than this film. In fact, it relates to me to the point where I was crying over the sights of the enormous bookstores that exist to bring us millions of new worlds, realities, fantasies, ideas and invaluable information. “I just found my church,” I thought to myself, “bookstores should be the real churches, the real centers to connect to the higher powers of the universe, not the lifeless cathedrals that have nothing to offer but a stunning architecture. Bookstores contain all the wisdom of the world, and it’s worth it to spend our lives exploring those pieces of wisdom.”

I came across another book that I enjoyed reading from the first sentence to the last. It was a super-captivating detective story that developed around Istanbul’s cultural heritage - something I’ve had a great interest in recent years. But the book was rather heavy - almost 800 pages. And since I still wasn’t getting used to a high-speed committed reading, it took me about a year to finish it. I had abandoned the book a couple of times before, not because it wasn’t engaging enough but because I wasn’t able to commit to finishing it. But it was such a joy when I did, and realizing I had guessed the killers correctly from the very beginning really excited me.

Being so inspired, I set my mind on making reading a daily habit and decided to go back to the most interesting books that I had abandoned and finish those as well. As a result, I read 30-90 minutes every day, finished 3 books in a month and even fell in love with one of them - “The Last Wish” by Andrzej Sapkowski, a collection of short stories about Geralt of Rivia, the famous Witcher that instantly captures gamers’ hearts. The obsession with the Witcher universe and my excitement of improving reading skills brought me a new challenge - to commit to reading all the books of the series. Currently, I’m on the 2nd tome, “Sword of Destiny”, and I’m totally loving it! The book is with me wherever I go, despite the heaviness of my bag.

Nothing can be compared to stare at the dull black characters written on the yellowish pages and hallucinate like you’ve swallowed a mushroom. The more I read, the faster my reading rate gets, and my imagination enhances, giving me a wider variety of colors, perspectives, patterns and settings to explore the story in. Reading is not about getting acquainted with the story and learning what happened eventually. And by no means, it is about getting recognition and appraisal. It’s an experience that fully activates my brain, and when I say fully, I mean it. I can hear each character’s voice, the subtle trembles of their speech, see the goosebumps when the wind softly runs over their skins, I can smell the stinking corpse or taste the delicious freshly-baked cheese-pie in the noisy inn where Slavic traditional music is playing. I can see the subtle mimics when characters flirt, and how they cross their legs, and how a person not related to their story is silently watching them from the corner.

Only now I can genuinely believe the famous quote by George RR Martin:

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.”

#itshaykuni #personal #reading #anxiety #books #bookworm #literature #development #words

0 notes

djindigoz · 7 years

Text

Here, have a glimpse into my new novel

He's all alone. It's quiet, and the lights begin to flicker.

"Dammit! I told them to bring me a new bulb before they left!" He glanced up at the light, which suddenly gave up. Blackness enveloped him, broken only around the emergency light. The lab was too small to have more lights. It only had the two. One bulb had already been out in the ceiling light for a few weeks now. He just never had the time to change it. Sighing, he realized he had to make time, now. He stepped out of the room carefully, sliding off his gloves and tossing them into the trash bin by the door. "This is what I get for working late, huh?" He skidded to a stop, remembering it's more sanitary to leave the lab coat in the room. He stepped back inside, sliding free from it. The nameplate reading "Gabe Hostas, Forensics" flickered in the light and shadow as he hung it up. "Nobody else wanted to stay late. I had nothing to do, though. I volunteered. I took one for the team, man!" Gabe hustled over to that floor's supply closet, flicking on the light and digging through boxes, some labelled poorly, some lacking labels, until he found a new bulb. He grabbed two while he was at it, carrying both back to the lab. Of course, his hands were full with the large bulbs, and he couldn't also bring the ladder.

Once in the lab, he clambered on top of the side of the counter he wasn't using. He removed the panel and replaced the bulbs, then returned to work. Analyzing was what most of his job was. Tests, running things through the system. Sometimes, he got to go out into the field when a body was found, and arrived with the detectives. Usually his senior did, but lately the woman has been letting Gabe do it. She had just had a child, and seemed to prefer finally sitting all alone in the quiet and getting to work. Gabe wouldn't complain. It meant more time with an old friend of his. Scott Marshalls had been his roommate for three years. They both were crime-solvers, though Scott became a detective. He'd been his best man at Scott's wedding just last month. Needless to say, they are close, and have always kept in touch.

Gabe finally locked up the lab and headed home sometime around one in the morning. He figured that'd be a good place to call it quits, as he still had work tomorrow morning.

He didn't live anywhere extravagant. He never had. Gabe wasn't on good terms with his parents, and never really knew most of his family. They weren't there for him at all through school, so Gabe fronted the bill for everything. His apartment was good, but nothing great. It was horribly small, too. No room for a roommate, pet, or anything but Gabe, really. And even then, he tried not to be there often, as there wasn't much room. He mostly came by to sleep. Sometimes, he'd sit around and read on days off. Or he'd watch the news, maybe some cool online video tutorials about computers and technology. Tonight, he'd go straight to sleep, though.

Awoken from a dreamless slumber by his radio, as it sounded so much better than a blaring alarm, Gabe rolled out of bed. He let the music play as he headed into his bathroom to shower and clean up. Pale skin, dusty blonde hair, and hazel eyes faced him in the mirror. He could tell how tired he still was after a measly four hours of sleep. He fluffed up his hair. He kept it shorter than he liked, wanting to look professional at work. Gabe was three years younger than Scott. He had graduated high school early. He was one of the youngest people employeed in his building. His short stature and youthful appearance didn't help him earn any respect. Those who knew him and his work gave him proper credit, but new fresh meat never paid him any mind and often underestimated him.

Following getting dressed, he had time to make some coffee and a quick breakfast and lunch to bring to work. He locked up his room and headed out.

Gabe always walked to work, never having a car, though he had a license. It was money he didn't have, and the city was constantly controlled by traffic., anyway, so he avoided ever buying a car. Sometimes, Scott would pick him up, but that meant getting up even earlier, and Gabe knew he needed the extra minutes of sleep.

He walked in to be greeted by those he knew and those who knew of him, saying hello back to everyone he could. However, he was stopped by Scott and his own boss, Lilla. Poor woman looked like she didn't get anymore sleep than Gabe. Hell, maybe even less. She had said before that her daughter seemed to have colic and couldn't usually sleep through the night too well.

"Hm? What's up?" Gabe sipped at his coffee. Lack of sleep or no, he didn't have bags under his eyes like Lilla did. By comparison, he seemed like he regularly got ten hours. Ha. He didn't get that much rest unless it was a day off.

"Put your stuff away, Hostas. You're going out into the field first thing. New body got reported. Might be tied to the last." Lilla set her cup down, pulling her dark hair into a ponytail. Gabe nodded and looked at Scott.

"Ew, with you? Do I have to?" He smirked and Scott grinned, rolling his eyes.

"And you wonder why people undershoot your age. Hurry up. I won't wait long." Scott shook his head. Despite what he said, he walked with Gabe, giving him any info he had found out, making sure Gabe was caught up. Shutting his food in the fridge, he paused and removed his breakfast.

"I'm eating on the way." Gabe threw the bag and his thermos into his locker, slammed it, then followed Scott out.

"You and Rachel enjoying the whole newlywed lifestyle?" Gabe asked to make small talk once they were on their way.

"It honestly doesn't feel any different. We'd been dating for four years, and living together for two and a half. If it wasn't for the ring, I'd probably forget that we're married." Scott laughed and Gabe just smiled. Gabe wasn't into dating. He just never really cared to have a relationship. That didn't mean he wasn't happy for his friend. Scott was constantly proud of his wife, and so happy whenever he talked about her or she was brought up. And Scott didn't rub it in Gabe's face. He didn't ask Gabe if he was ever seeing anyone, and the blonde appreciated the brunette's understanding. Besides, he knew that Scott was considerably handsome. He had stubble, a tan, and blue eyes. That's what women liked, right? Maybe some men did, too. Scott was also super sweet and good with kids. He and Lilla got along well, as he'd always try to babysit for her when she needed it. Gabe never really knew what to do with children. They were all always so different, and you couldn't treat them all the same. It was confusing and troublesome, so he avoided Lilla when he knew she needed a sitter, instead throwing Scott's name into the conversation, suggesting she check with him.

They pulled up to the scene. There wasn't much activity there, yet. Just the usual caution tape and officers keeping the public away. The crowd was small. It must not have even hit the news or anything, yet. Gabe sighed in relief. He knew it was more trouble when more people tried to get a look. Or when the news crews came by. They likely would soon, so they quickly got to work.

It didn't take Gabe long to confirm that the body was poisoned the same way the last was. However, while the past victims were found in their homes, this guy was outside in an alleyway. Scott let Gabe look over the body, along with the coroner. The older man instead checked around the scene, ensuring there wasn't any obvious evidence. Gabe got up to report to Scott anything he and the coroner noticed.

"Poison, likely the exact same kind as last time. I took a sample from his blood so I can make sure when we get back. The symptoms are identical. No external injuries, didn't seem to put up a fight. Everything except the location is the same as before, as far as we can tell." Gabe flipped his notebook closed, slipping it and the blood sample into his bag. He glanced around, tilting his head. He noted that a window across the street was open. Something gleamed in the sunlight. But, wasn't that building abandoned last year? Did someone buy it? The gleam kept his attention, and he suddenly realized what it might be. His eyes widened, and he shouted for everyone to get down. He shoved Scott, as the man reacted by drawing his gun and looking for whatever Gabe saw instead of listening to his command.

The shooter must've known he was seen, because the shot hit Gabe directly. An attempt to eliminate him first. Gabe felt it, felt himself stumble and fall. Everything went out of focus, but there was a lot of noise. He could still think straight. He covered the wound with a hand, applying pressure. The officers were shouting at the people to move. Scott shouted for an officer to watch Gabe and call an ambulance. He heard him call for backup. Knowing his friend well, Gabe assumed Scott's eyes never left the building. He'd be waiting and watching, knowing he can't go off on his own.

Gabe returned to himself when the pain pulsed through. It took a moment, but now it hurt. Bad. It was in his chest. Did it hit anything vital? Swaying, Gabe tried to look for the exact location of the wound. Blood covered his shirt. He quickly put the hand back, pushing as hard as he could, willing it to stop bleeding. The paramedics could worry about the location, whenever they get here.

Sirens? Were they here, or was the back-up? Both? Gabe moved his eyes to check, and everything spun and darkened. Breathing hurt. Sitting hurt. It felt like his brain couldn't breathe. Then everything was swallowed up.

Noise. He could still hear. Scott was yelling at Gabe. Why? What did he do wrong? It was all just chance. Gabe happened to see what was happening. If it had been Scott, wouldn't he have done the same? Sounds became muffled. Open your eyes, he thought. Make sure everyone is okay. Make sure you're okay. Then the sound went, too.

�

#diamond thief #Radiant #My writing #novel #teaser

1 note · View note