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forsakenmis · 3 years

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Calming her down

Title: Calming her down Pairing: top!Wanda Maximoff x female!reader Rating: 18+ Incredibly NSFW Warnings: Dark Wanda, kind of non-con, strap on, fingering, mummy kink, post-WV finale so spoilers if you haven’t seen it. also i haven’t editted it so beware grammar and spelling mistakes. Word count: 4215 words

It had taken far too long to track her down. Why they asked you to do it, you weren’t really sure. It’s not as if you and Wanda ever really talked, or even made eye contact, during the years as an avenger. Yet you were given the task of pulling her back onto the rails, rails she’s apparently veered pretty badly. You really think Doctor Strange, the Gandalf of wizards, would be a lot better at handling her than you would be. Or even Clint, the guy who was her mentor. But no-no one wanted to reach out to her, even though they spent years arguing that she needed to be supervised. You could go on for days how you being the person being sent is the most ridiculous idea they could have had.

You weren’t even a super, or an avenger, you started off as a shield agent who was then thrown into Stark Industries as Tony’s intern. Fury wanted an in and you were that in. Then everything went bottoms up and you became a slightly more valuable member of the group. Support, really.

After the snap, you just wanted a stable life. A normal life. By the time they contacted you to do this, you’d applied to a college. No, a university. In Australia, which was far, far away from New York. The briefing was simple. Wanda, left to her own devices in her time of need, went to try to handle her own grief after stealing Vision’s body from S.W.O.R.D. You were being asked to go try to talk some sense into her. Then, within the week of you repeatedly saying no, it turned out the head of S.W.O.R.D. was a bastard which you could have seen coming from a mile away, and Wanda was god knows where.

They promised you they’d leave you alone after this.

So you said yes.

What could go wrong?

You were still asking herself that three weeks later when you were sitting there still trying to find out where exactly she went. Wanda wasn’t going to be easy to find, especially considering she didn’t want to be found but you did it. It was four in the morning when you finally narrowed down a list of ten possible locations that she could be in. You were too tired to even crack a smile, you fell back onto your bed to sleep.

Your celebration was sleep for by the next morning, you were trekking across the world and came to the outskirts of a property with the view of the mountains. Pretty, sure, but you didn’t think Wanda was here for the view.

It was eerily quiet when you walked up to the door. That type of quiet they put into horror movies before they pulled out a jump scare. You didn’t trust it. Then again-not that there was anything around to make noise. Wanda could be asleep, as maybe all this isolation has meant she’s forsaken a body clock.

Still-you trusted it as much as you could lift Mjollnir and you couldn’t even make it shift.

The curtains were closed, you couldn’t see anything as you walked up the two steps and you had to stop your hand from hovering over your handgun. It would have been more of a self assurance. You couldn’t dream of winning against Wanda in a fight, both of you would be aware of that, but you couldn’t exactly imagine she’d be that trusting of you if you walked in holding a gun. So you fiddled with the watch around your wrist, it was a gift from Tony years ago.

You could have brought reinforcement, sure, but that seemed like a moot point considering you were trying to gain her trust, somewhat. The reinforcement would have been S.W.O-oh whatever, sword, you don’t have the time for formality. And sword made such a huge mess of it the first time round so you didn’t think they were going to help this time round. You tried calling Clint, but he was busy, apparently. Too busy to pick up your calls.

This was definitely a suicide mission.

You knocked three times with the back of your knuckles and listened, trying to hear any hint of movement.

Nothing.

You knocked again. Knock. Knock. Knock. Not even a creak.

Maybe she was asleep or maybe, dare you say it, had gotten it wrong. God, you’d hate for some old man to swing the door open.

Your hand dropped to the handle, going to test the lock, but then it swung open and if it wasn’t for your own instincts, you would have stumbled forward.

Wanda.

Your eyes slammed onto her face and, for the first time in years, you fumbled. She looked different, way too different for your liking, she looked older since Tony’s funeral. Mature. More confident in herself. You could think of a different million ways to describe her in that split second.

She’d always been pretty before but this Wanda was…gorgeous. This Wanda could also read minds.

You cut your thoughts short and took in a slight breath. Wanda wasn’t saying anything and her only acknowledgement was the slight hook of her brow.

“Wanda,” you began before forcing a smile onto yourself, “long time no see.”

“So they sent you, of all people,” Wanda remarked and you made a face. Sure-she was right but that was, quite frankly, rude.

“They suggested I come and I wanted to come,” you lied, “to see how you were doing...okay, look, I know we never talked. Or interacted. I know that. I was probably not the most open to you as I could have been.” Wanda was continuing to stare at you. She was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt. A shirt that arguably was one size too small for her. You weren’t really sure what to say, if you were honest, you’d spent so much time trying to find her, tracking her down like a puzzle, that you forgot to plan for this interaction.

“But I like to think we were on good terms,” you continued. Worst thing she could do was close the door in your face and you were more than happy to camp outside. “Enough that you’ll hear me out. I heard about your book, the darkhold–” That’s when you got a reaction out of her. Her eyes narrowed, growing even colder, and you could see her grip tightening on the door. “–we need to talk. Please-just let me in. I’m not going to fight you. We both know I can’t do that.”

You were keeping your thoughts clear. You didn’t want her reading you.

After a second, Wanda swung the door open wider and let you in.

Your eyes scanned the room the moment you entered the threshold, looking for all the exits, before you turned back to Wanda. Wanda, who had closed the door, and had started walking towards you, close enough that you took a step back but found yourself hitting the back of a table.

Now that she was right up in your personal space, close enough that you could smell the soap she was using. Your heart was beating now.

“So you came for the book?” She asked, staring down at you. She was only a couple of inches taller than you but it may as well have been more.

“No, I came here to help you. And I know that book isn’t helping you, no matter how much you think it is. Wanda, that book is dangerous,” you said, gaining enough courage that you pushed yourself off the table to step forward, getting into Wanda’s space just as she was in yours.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Wanda remarked but she didn’t move. “You’re as bullheaded as you used to be, never knowing when a fight was too big for you. I remember all those times Nat and Steve had to throw themselves on the line because you’d done something reckless.” “That’s rich coming from you.” “I could protect myself,” Wanda snapped back. “So where are they? The rest of them. The people that said they were my family. Were you all that they had?”

You clenched your teeth. Don’t say the truth. “They wanted a woman’s touch with it,” you lied. “There isn’t that many of us who were close to you back then anymore.”

It was really only Nat and maybe Pepper who were close to Wanda. Both were a little preoccupied as of right now (for different reasons) to come knocking on Wanda’s door.

“A woman’s touch?” Wanda echoed, saying it in a way that made you clench your teeth. It was a raspy whisper. “And what, may I ask, would that entail?”

With the way she said it, you were pretty sure that Wanda wasn’t meaning it in the same way you were. Albeit, your meaning was rather off as well. In that you had no idea what that would entail either.

Wanda must have realised this and took a step back. “I suggest you leave,” she said and you hesitated before shaking your head.

“I won’t do that,” you said and she frowned. “They asked me to calm you down–”

“Calm me down?” She repeated, pronouncing each syllable, and it was as if the temperature dropped ten degrees. “Calm me down.” Then she smirked and it made you roll back on your heels.

“As long as you have that book, yes,” you said, “how about this–I take the book and then I go. You’ll think more rational without it, Maximoff, you know that. Deep down. You’re smart, Wanda, smarter than anyone ever gave you credit for. Besides Vision–”

“Don’t say his name,” Wanda snarled and suddenly she was in front of you again, hand around your throat, “do you understand me? He doesn’t exist here, not with you around.”

You didn’t really know what she meant but you ran with it and nodded. Her hand was tight and your airway was becoming a little too blocked for your liking.

She stared down at you, her eyes hard and cold, but then they softened and her grip loosened but they still didn’t leave your skin.

“You know, I might have pursued you back then, if it wasn’t for him,” Wanda began and you blinked. What? “You were everything I liked in a girl. Besides your recklessness….and stubbornness...but I think I can deal with that pretty easily.”

“Wanda, I’m flattered, really, but how about we focus,” you said, carefully, deciding to take that with a grain of salt and then over analyse it at three in the morning. Like how could you be cock blocked by a bloody robot? “Just give me the book and I’ll leave you in peace. I’ll make sure no one comes looking for you–” “You can’t promise me that,” Wanda remarked before she dropped her hand to take a step back. Then she looked you up and down. “You said they wanted you to calm me down, right? How about I keep both you and the book.”

You would like to say you were able to fight back. Prevent Wanda from knocking you out. But you were gone by the time she finished her sentence.

----

When light streamed into your eyes, the first thing you registered was the soft pillow underneath your head. Then you felt the rest of the bed and your eyes sprung open.

Your legs were bent up and out, Wanda’s red mist wrapped around your ankles and knees to keep them up. Meanwhile, your wrists were stuck to the headboard. Then your eyes rested on….Wanda?

Transparent Wanda reading that bloody book. You swear to god-you’ll burn that book the moment you get your hands–

“You’ll do no such thing,” Wanda’s voice cut through your apparently rather loud thoughts. You turned your head, trying to find her, and there she was in the doorway, sipping a cup of tea, watching you. Then she kicked off it and moved into the room and slid the mug onto a table before coming to the bed. “Maybe I’ll let you hold it one day as I read it.”

“I don’t...I don’t understand, Wanda, let me go,” you whispered as you began to struggle, pulling on the restraints again and again, but they weren’t budging. Neither was Wanda.

“I don’t think I want to,” Wanda hummed as she pushed herself onto the bed, “you see, I lost everything. My brother, Vision, Nat, Steve, my two boys, then Vision again. I lose every single family I ever have. Maybe this time I’ll succeed. I’m trying to find them, you see, with the book. Find them and pull them out. We can live here, happy, away from everyone.”

“We’ve done this story before Wanda, it didn’t–” “This time will be different, I’ll be more powerful, I won’t mess up this time,” Wanda pressed as her hands went to your inner thighs, moving them up and down your clothed skin. “And, when it comes to you, what they don’t know won’t hurt them. I don’t think I’ll let them see you. No, you can be my little secret. I stared at you for too many years, let you whore yourself out to other people. Not anymore.”

You drew your brows together. This couldn’t be happening.

“As you said, you’re meant to calm me down, right? Meant to pull me off some edge because everyone else was just too busy,” Wanda said as she positioned herself between your legs, bending down to kiss your jawline. You throbbed and pulled on the red strands wrapped around your wrist, but to no avail. “But I can think of another edge you can get close to,” she whispered as she pulled away again.

“Wanda, what are you–”

Her fingers slid in between your thighs, pressing into your heat, and a sharp gasp left your mouth. She began to rub through your jeans, cupping your heat, and you tugged again. This time, the red scratched the watch around your wrist and suddenly your clothes had snapped into the red armour Tony had built you years ago. Protective armour that replaced whatever you were wearing in a nick of time.

Useful.

The shift was enough to push Wanda off you and she stared down at the red and black armour with a slight tilt of her head.

“Well, that won’t do, will it?” She asked as her hands trailed down the cool metal. “Neat trick. Tony’s design, right?”

“Of course,” you responded after a moment, your chest rising up and down. There was no point in denying it-it was obviously Tony’s. Right down to the colours.

Wanda’s eyes turned red as the red mist circled around her hand as she lowered it back down. You flinched when you felt it slink in between the small crevices. The suit was meant to be protected against outside substances, able to go into water, but you supposed Tony didn’t exactly build it against Wanda.

“Wanda, you don’t–” “If you don’t be quiet, I’ll make you, do you understand me?” She hissed as she bucked her hand backwards and the suit around your hips ripped off you and tossed across the room. You whined as the cold air hit your bare skin, contrasting the building heat in between your legs.

You were left with nothing but the top half and the pants that wrapped around your thigh. “Much better.”

With that, she went back to what she was doing before but this time there was nothing to prevent her from slipping her fingers through your slick folds, the tips of her nails teasing your entrance.

“Look at you, already so wet,” she cooed and you gritted your teeth. This really couldn’t be happening. This was a dream. She could control reality, this was just a dream. “This isn’t me in your head, sweetheart, trust me–I would have cut the foreplay if I was creating this.”

She continued to massage your heat and it took you everything you had not to moan.

“Why are you…” you tried saying but you were cut short, once again, when her fingers found your hooded clit, using the tips of her nails to start playing with it. You bucked your hips instinctively and she chuckled.

“You said you wanted to help me, right?” Wanda asked and the building heat was beginning to become a little too much. “So how about this, sweetheart, you help mummy out by becoming mummy’s little stress reliever.”

Two fingers suddenly plunged into your entrance and your back arched. At least your clit got a little bit of a break but it wasn’t long until her palm began to grind against it as she thrusted the fingers into your tight entrance. Each thrust expanded your walls, letting her in even deeper, your own arousal making her movements slick and quick.

“Wand-” you began to moan but it morphed into a sharp yelp when she pulled her fingers out to slap your cunt.

“You’re a smart girl, sweetheart, it’s how you got around Tony for so long. I think you know exactly what you want to be calling me,” she said and suddenly she was back down so that her face was only inches away from yours and her fingers slid back inside of you.

Unlike last time, though, it wasn’t rough and sharp. Her fingers were slow as they moved inside of you, curling at the tips, scratching your walls. Exploring. She was exploring you and you could do nothing but whimper and moan.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I know you would. Look at you, already so wet and submissive for me,” she whispered, scattering kisses down your jawline as she reached your ear to nibble on your earlobe. “I’ll keep you in here for as long as I need you. Ride your pretty little mouth as I read that book, fill you up again and again until you’re passing out. All you have to do is be a good little girl.”

Heat was curling through your body, that buzzing sort of heat, that made your vision blur. Your teeth were clamped together. You wanted to moan, they were in your throat, but even when you opened your mouth, no sound came out. Just silent moans. The fingers moving inside of you had grabbed all your attention.

Then she scratched that little sweet spot and it was that that pushed out a moan that bounced around the room. Wanda laughed, hitting it again and again.

“Let your mummy hear your moans, sweetheart,” she said before she pulled back to kiss you on the mouth, biting hard on your lip so you wouldn’t even try to close your mouth and stop the tongue that slid into your mouth.

Your stomach was twisting into knots at this point and seemed like every other muscle seemed to be cramping. You were close to climax. Your walls clenched around Wanda’s fingers. Just a little bit–

You groaned when she peeled herself off you. You blinked up at her, looking through what seemed like tears, as you were denied that relief. Relief from the throbbing coming from your cunt.

“You want to cum, baby?” Wanda asked as she pulled off her shirt. Underneath was a simple black bra that was quickly disposed of. Your eyes, naturally, landed on her chest. A chest that, even under the circumstances, made you drool. Wanda’s clicking your fingers drew your eyes back up. “Eyes on mummy, sweetheart. God, you really are a little whore, aren’t you? Tell me-do you want to cum?” You pulled on your restraints just once more but all it seemed to do was to make it even tighter.

You nodded, jerkily.

“Use your words, sweetheart, I very clearly established you’re not mute,” Wanda remarked as her fingers went down to her jeans, fiddling with her button.

“Yes. Please, I want to,” you mumbled, knowing you won’t be coming back from this point. Then again-if she could make you feel like that again...maybe that wasn’t so bad.

Wanda tilted her head as she hummed, not having to move much to slap your sore cunt again and you jerked. “Say it politely and maybe I’ll consider it.” You scrunch your eyes shut and mewled when she began to knead your pulsating clit again. “M-mummy, please,” you whispered and her hands left your cunt. Before you could even open your eyes, you felt her lips on yours. Soft, gentle...loving.

“Good girl...that wasn’t so hard, was it?” She asked and you could hear the ruffling of her pants as she kicked them off. “Now...mummy’s going into your head, okay? I promise it won’t be long.” You began to struggle again but the warmth of her powers quickly washed over you. Your memories began playing the past three months. You tracking her down. Refusing back up.

Then she was out again.

“You really told no one where you were going? Almost as if you wanted this to happen,” She said as she shifted on top of you. Shifted that you felt something rub up against your entrance and you flinched. She...she was packing. “Of course I am, sweetheart, do you really think I wasn’t prepared for you? I knew you were coming from a mile away, honey.”

And with that, she pushed the strap inside of you, not bothering to wait for you to adjust until she was completely inside of you. You arched your back again, pressing into Wanda’s naked body, as the pain of being ripped open rushed through your body. You moaned and grunted as you grew adjusted to the width and length of Wanda.

“Come on, baby, you can do it,” Wanda murmured into your lips and suddenly your wrists were freed. But then her own hands came up to wrap around them to press them against the pillows herself. “I know you’ve taken bigger. Do you think we didn’t know? Didn’t know you and Nat were fucking every other night?” The comment drew you out, just for a moment, and you shook your head but all she did was pull back slightly to slam inside of you again.

“Don’t lie to me,” Wanda snarled, “tell me, tell me the truth. Use your words.”

It took only a few more thrusts of her strap filling you up again and again that the words began to spill out of your lips. “S-she found out. About my status as a shield status. Fuck,” you hissed out, barely able to hear your own words over the lude noises of Wanda beginning to pound into you. This wasn’t fair-you couldn’t dream of talking when she was fucking you like this.

“So you whored yourself out to her to make sure she kept her mouth shut,” Wanda said, finishing the sentence and you nodded jerkily. “You little slut. I bet you liked it too, just like how you like me pounding into you. But you’re mine now. Not hers. Not Tony’s. Mine. My little whore.”

She shifted upwards so that her chest was dangling above your face. “Suck your mommy's tit, baby, I saw you admire them before.”

It was a welcome change, you had to admit, to trying to formulate sentences and words around the moans and screams spilling out of your mouth. Your head leaned forward, closing the distance, so your mouth could wrap around her erect nipple and your walls clenched around her strap as you heard her moan.

Her hand moved to the top of your head, her nails scraping against your scalp as she interwove her fingers through your messy hair. Your tongue lapped at the small bud between your teeth and she began to move her hips in time with your tongue.

Your now free hand wrapped around her body so your nails were digging into her shoulder, drawing Wanda down even closer so you could take more of her tit into her mouth.

The same heat that had built before was coming back, and you weren’t sure how long you could hold on at this point.

“You can cum whenever you want, baby, just this once,” Wanda purred, hearing your thoughts, and it was all you needed, that confirmation, to come undone. Your walls clenched around the strap and you could feel Wanda slowing down as thrusting became just a tad more difficult and you screamed into her tits, careful not to clamp your jaw shut, as the orgasm rushed through you.

Even through it, she continued moving inside of you, and you almost felt like you could pass out.

“Good girl,” Wanda whispered. “Oh, I could get used to this. I’m going to keep you in here, do you hear me? Make you a good little whore for me to come home to.” They did say your mission was to help Wanda calm down.

#wanda x reader #smut #wanda maximoff smut #dark!wanda maximoff #top!wanda #dark wanda maximoff x reader #misfitwrites #wanda maximoff x you

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lilydalexf · 2 years

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1/3: Hi! Serious question. FOR REAL, how in the world did you all survive waiting for Prufrock's Love to post chapter by chapter of these amazing AU epics back in the day? I have access to the full collection and I'm still BARELY surviving. And they are like, a bajillion chapters each. How are you alive? I've never been more grateful to NOT have watched the show during its original run. Hoo boy. WHICH brings me to my 2nd question, which might sound arrogant but it is 100% genuine curiosity.

LOL, I don't know how people survived waiting for chapters of new Prufrock's Love fics when they were originally posted. I've never read WIPs until they're completed, so it was always very easy for me!

X-Files fics used to be posted in text (.txt) files because that was the format any browser could handle. Later on toward the end of the show's original run some people posted their stories in html format since by then browsers were better and authors often had their own website where they could post html files. No social media accounts, just individual web pages people made, usually at a free site like geocities, tripod, or angelfire. But to circulate your stories anywhere, they needed to be a text file.

All that is to say: text files made finding and fixing errors harder. Once you posted something as a text file, that is how it was. You couldn't click an edit button. If the story was posted to a personal website the entire file could be replaced easily enough (if the typos were known to the author, which probably wasn't always the case). If the story went to Ephemeral, Gossamer, atxc, or an email mailing list, and nearly all XF stories went to at least one of those places, it was a text file with no way to correct errors. So the errors would be there forever.

Beta readers seem to have been a much bigger thing back in the day of the X-Files airing on TV, in part because the text file thing made fixing any errors after posting pretty much impossible. I don't know anybody who wrote their fics as text files, though. Maybe Prufrock's Love or some authors did, but going through the process of converting word processor documents to text files was a big thing (like, there were fan-made instruction guides on how to do it so all the line breaks and special characters would be right). So why are there typos when even word processors back in the day had spell check? My view is that errors happen, especially in longer stories and ones without betaing, and the text file conversion process did nobody any favors. And it's fic, which is a free, fun hobby without pro editing.

TL,DR: I avoided WIP angst by not reading fics in progress, fics being posted as text files was annoying on many levels, and although word processing programs in the olden days had spell check mistakes happen.

#ye olden times #xfiles fanfic #xf fanfic #anon #asks

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ambersky0319 · 4 years

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An intrulogical fic where Logan overhears Roman and Deceit trying to figure out how to get Thomas to see how great Remus can be, and he sneaks into Remus' room to grab one of his stories. He fixes the mistakes and just subtly places it in Thomas' room. It may take awhile but he reads it; it's rather morbid and strange so he thinks it's Joan's, but he likes it despite Patton's dislike on it.... Then Logan spills the beans. Metaphorically. 💚💙 Idk I feel like I could describe this better...

I really, really hope you enjoy reading this just as much fun as I had writing it-

Warnings: Morally-gray/somewhat unsympathetic Patton (your interpretation really, implied he just doesn’t like anything Remus does); Descriptions of violence, torture; mentions of blood, death, and human experiments (but none of these are concerning any of the sides or Thomas); please lmk if I need to add anything else!

Masterpost

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

Logan paced his room, mind racing as he processed everything he had overheard. He hadn't even meant to overhear, he just did because Roman is loud as hell when he gets passionate about a subject.

To finally get Thomas to see Remus's true worth... It'd take a lot more than just getting Remus to disguise himself, or take one of his ideas and pass it off as Roman's. Patton would surely find some way to discourage both of those, and it'd be difficult to convince Thomas at all to listen to Remus after it. Maybe Deceit could momentarily silence Patton, so he wouldn't be able to interject?

Logan shook his head. That wouldn't work either. Thomas still wouldn't be convinced, he'd just be reminded of Remus's introduction and no matter how great Remus's idea, he still would probably reject it. And that alone wouldn't get Thomas to appreciate Remus at all, even if it did work.

"Hey Moonstone!" Logan jumped as Remus opened his door, grinning wide at his boyfriend. Logan returned the smile with a soft one of his own, opening his arms. Remus immediately clung to Logan, holding onto him tightly.

Logan ran his fingers through Remus's hair. "Something I can help you with?" He asked. Normally Remus only barged into Logan's room if he was feeling down. Remus shook his head, pressing a kiss to Logan's jaw.

"Just kind of want to cuddle, if you're free?" Remus hummed, pulling away slightly to look at Logan. Logan smiled just a bit more, leaning forward and closing the small gap between them. Remus melted into Logan, his own arms moving up and around Logan's neck.

They didn't pull apart as Logan guided them to the bed, and they only broke apart when they had to get comfortable. Remus laughed lightly, snuggling close to Logan and resting his head on Logan's chest. Remus loved hearing and feeling Logan's heart beat, it reminded him that this was real.

"Hey Cephy?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Remus laughed again, pressing closer to Logan. "I love you too," he said as his eyes closed. Remus was asleep soon after that.

Logan waited until Remus had fallen into a deep sleep to move. It took about an hour, which he didn't mind. He loved just holding Remus, running his fingers through his hair or tracing circles on Remus's back. Remus always looked so peaceful when sleeping, and Logan was happy Remus trusted him enough to be so vulnerable.

Pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Remus's head, Logan wormed his way out of Remus's arms. Remus curled into the pillows instead, still looking content and Logan relaxed, knowing he hadn't disturbed the side. After pulling a blanket over Remus, Logan finally left his room.

He wandered down the hall to Remus's, and he opened the door. He could hear Patton downstairs singing as he made dinner, and guessed the others were either asleep in their own rooms or just doing their own activities. Once Remus's door closed, all the sound seemed to vanish.

Remus's room was a wreck, but an organized wreck. Remus had a system, despite Roman complaining that it was just an excuse to leave his room messy. Logan believed Remus, though, because if you knew where to look for things then you could easily find it.

He made his way to Remus's desk, careful to avoid stepping on any papers or crafts Remus had made. If it was on the floor, it was an idea Remus would return to soon.

Once at the desk, Logan began to look for a certain story Remus had read to him a few months ago. As Remus had slept, an idea had popped into Logan's mind, although it was one of those long-term ideas. It could work, despite how much gore was in the story and the emotional trauma the characters are put through... Logan thought Thomas might actually enjoy reading it.

Getting the story and making it look like a published book were the easy parts, though. The hardest part would be making it appear in the real world, and make sure Thomas could actually see all the pages. It takes a lot of energy to do something such as keep a book materialized for who knows how long. But Logan was willing to do it. Of course, he'd be sure to approach Deceit and Roman later to be sure they didn't do anything stupid as Logan prepared.

Logan smiled triumphantly once he found the story, and he went back to his room. Logan didn't need to edit the story too much, just the occasional spelling error that slipped past the first few edits. He reread it as Remus slept under his covers. It was one of Remus's favorite stories, one he was really proud of, and to Logan's luck had made a few copies. This meant Remus possibly wouldn't notice the missing manuscript, and even if he did, Logan could explain. He just didn't want to get Remus's hopes up so early on, and also didn't want him accidentally telling Thomas before he actually read the story.

He spent most of Remus's nap creating the actual book to put on Thomas's shelf, texting Roman for help with the cover after briefly explaining his idea (he also didn't want Roman to accidentally reveal everything too early- the only secrets Roman was really good at keeping were his secret insecurities). Roman was ecstatic to help and apparently set to work right after Logan briefly explained the plot of the story.

Logan placed the almost-finished book in one of his own desk drawers, and climbed into bed again with Remus. Remus shifted, making a sound that Logan assumed was out of content, and clung to Logan once again. Logan wrapped his arms around Remus, pulling him closer before letting his own eyes drift shut. Soon, Logan had also slipped into a deep slumber, only being woken up three hours later for dinner.

The book cover Roman had shown him was gorgeous, in Logan's mind. And he was surprised Roman had done it so willingly in the first place, since it was so far from Roman's comfort zone. A hospital with blood dripping from the windows, the main character looking as innocent as Remus portrayed him to be. And as a much smaller detail, corpses lining the base of the hospital in awkward positions, as though they had jumped from the stories above.

Logan combined the cover and the book about a few days later, and rose up in Thomas's apartment. Thomas was in his room, getting ready for the day, which meant Logan could go unnoticed since Thomas was still finding the energy to leave the warmth of his bed.

He appeared in the living room and walked over to the small bookshelf Thomas had. With any luck, Logan could persuade Thomas sometime soon to pick up reading in his spare time.

Logan slipped the book onto the shelf, making sure it didn't look too out of place. He could feel the energy it took out of him to keep it there, keep it just really existing in this world. He just hoped it would stay that way, so when Thomas read it, he could actually see the damn story.

He sunk out without being caught, rising up in his room but quickly going to the commons when he heard Patton call for breakfast.

It took Thomas almost an entire month to finally notice the book, pulling it off his shelf as he was cleaning. He didn't recognize the title, not the author. Ignoring the heavy amount of blood on the cover, Thomas turned the book in his hands, reading over the synopsis. He tilted his head. It seemed... Interesting.

Maybe Joan had accidentally put it there, and had just forgotten they'd left his book. That happened on numerous occasions before. Normally Thomas would just leave the book alone and give it back to Joan once they visited again, but something about this one caught his interest.

He settled down on the couch, knowing Patton would probably be very uncomfortable with this book. But that didn't phase Thomas as much as he thought it would. And so, he opened the book to the first chapter, getting more comfortable.

It didn't take long for Thomas to get invested in the story. It was being told from the point of view of a child, Thomas assumed the boy on the cover, and where the child grew up. The hospital, located in an abandoned town. His parents did experiments on the town's residents, all of whom had been checked into the hospital years ago. No one was allowed to leave, and anyone who died in the experiments were just dropped out the windows.

The child wasn't as innocent as he looked, though. Not how he sounded, and Thomas soon realized that when he 'played' with the 'patients' to supposedly cheer them up, the child was only torturing them more. Dress up was wrapping chains around necks and crushing windpipes, playing pirates meant he stabbed someone's eye out and gave them an eye patch made from a large screw or chopping off their hand to give them a hook, and cooking meant slicing various parts of the victim off and adding the parts to a 'soup'.

The thing was they couldn't go outside, though. And the boy ends up outside halfway through the story.

Thomas couldn't believe how much he actually enjoyed reading the book, just waiting to see what the boy did next after finally getting out of the hospital, how his parents would react. The town turned out to not be completely abandoned, and the remaining residents upon seeing the boy... It was just a bunch of interesting interactions.

He spent the entire night reading, even reading a bit into the morning until he closed the book with wide eyes. His stomach growled, and Thomas realized he hadn't eaten dinner the day before. Half-awake, he went to make himself some toast as he pondered the events of the book.

Thomas went to sleep on the couch soon after breakfast, exhaustion finally overpowering the rush that came with reading a new book. And he woke up early in the evening when Patton was trying to get hip up, wanting to have a talk about Thomas's recent choice.

He rubbed his eyes, noticing the other sides as well. Thomas quickly sprung to his feet, stretching his arms as he walked to take his place at the center of the room.

"Pat, you wanted to talk?" Thomas asked, turning to face his moral side. Patton looked very unhappy, which was to be expected. Remus seemed to be bouncing in his peripheral, a nervous grin on his face.

"Before that, can we talk about the book?" Remus asked, promoting Thomas to fully look at him. Thomas tilted his head.

"What about it?"

"Did you like it?" Remus seemed almost hopeful, clasping his hands together and pulling at his fingers anxiously. He would recognize the story Thomas had been reading from anywhere, since when Thomas was reading the words from the pages played throughout the mindscape like an intercom and Remus knew the story by heart.

Thomas smiled, because of course Remus would be excited about that kind of gruesome story. "I did, actually. It had compelling characters, an interesting plot and setting, and also the descriptions... They were horrifying, but in a pleasant way? Like, the kind of feeling you'd get when reading whump fanfiction or something."

Remus's shoulders relaxed and he bounced a bit faster, laughing to himself at Thomas's response. "Brilliant!" Was all he said as he tried and failed to calm himself down. Thomas turned back to Patton and crossed his arms, seeing the look of utter disapproval on Patton's face, missing Logan's smile of relief.

"I'm going to assume you hated it, though?"

"Of course I did! It was awful!" Patton threw his arms in the air. "It was about murder! And torture! How could you like a story like that, Thomas?!"

Thomas shrugged. "It's fictional, Patton. I don't condone anything that happened in it. You would know if I did."

"Just because it's fictional doesn't make it right!"

"That was the point of the story though, right? That everything the main character was doing and thinking was wrong, despite the environment he grew up in and how he wouldn't know right from wrong?" Roman asked, leaning against the wall as he watched Remus finally calm down his excitement. Remus grinned at him.

"But he liked reading it. What does that say about Thomas?!"

"Many people read things they don't like, Patton. Thomas's friends like playing games involving horror and murderers, but they're not murderers themselves, are they?"

"But Thomas had never liked reading these things in the first place!"

"You mean you've never, right?" Deceit interjected, leaning against the banister. "Thomas has liked some morbid books in the past though, because of some of our own influences. Like the original material the Disney movies were all based off."

Patton looked at a loss for words, and turned to look at Virgil. "Surely you didn't like it, Virge. It was really gruesome, right, and isn't it worrying that Thomas likes it?"

Virgil shrugged. "I didn't mind it. I gotta agree, it was definitely gruesome, but it was still a good story." Virgil flashed a smile at Remus. "I could also see someone making a wicked movie out of it."

Remus's eyes widened at the idea, his smile only growing.

"So, overall Thomas, you wouldn't be opposed to reading stories similar to that one?" Logan asked, folding one arm across his chest as he pushed up his glasses with his other hand.

"I wouldn't be opposed to it, no."

"And what about possibly creating skits with darker themes like it, maybe for a side channel of sorts?"

Thomas's eyes lit up. "Oooh, that'd definitely be an interesting channel! And I could reach a wider audience, right?" He deflated a little. "But I doubt I could make anything like that story and actually pull it off."

"I don't see why not. After all, your own mind created the story."

Thomas frowned. "What?"

"The story, it was Remus's. You can create things as good as that story, if you merely gave Remus a chance to show you what he can do."

Thomas's eyes widened at that, and he turned back to Remus. "That's why you were so excited?!"

Remus nodded, still feeling giddy as he rocked on his heels. It took a moment for him to find his words. "I'm really really happy you liked that one- it was one of the first in a series and it's my favorite and I just-" Remus cut himself off, flapping his hands and trying to laugh off the nerves creeping back up now that Thomas knew. "You don't have to listen to Logan, Thomas, but the fact that you even considered the idea is good enough for me!"

"You wrote that." Thomas stared at his duke with wide eyes. "Really?"

Remus nodded again, and Thomas ran a hand through his already messy hair. He bit his lip, glancing briefly at the obviously unhappy Patton.

Eh, screw it, Thomas thought. "Could I see some more of your ideas, then, or do you need time to brainstorm?"

Remus could've fainted if he didn't suddenly have a job to do.

After they had all sunk out, Thomas deciding he needed more sleep, Remus tackled Logan to the floor. Tears of pure joy were streaming down Remus's cheeks as he buried his face in Logan's shoulder, laughing almost hysterically.

Logan caught his breath, wrapping his arm around Remus tightly and holding him closer. "You alright?" Logan asked once Remus had stopped laughing as loudly. The others had vacated to their own rooms, leaving just them two on the common room floor. Remus leaned up to press a kiss to Logan's lips, holding onto the logical side for dear life.

"Thank you, Lolo, thank you," he whispered against Logan's lips. Logan held Remus closer, moving to wipe away Remus's tears. He smiled softly at Remus, caressing his cheek lightly.

"For you, my love, anything."

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

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if-you-built-yourself-a-myth · 3 years

Text

Check Ignition: Part VIII

The Sobbe fake-dating Hogwarts AU that one person requested and I dove into headfirst

First part // Previous part // Next part

Send me requests for other fics, ideas for this one, opinions, whatever! My apologies if the quality seems to have one downhill; I'll be doing minor edits for the sake of readability when I have a good chunk of free time.

“Shhh, guys, leave it,” Jens said. Everyone’s comments died on their tongues. Zoë and Moyo herded the superfluous students from the room and left as well, shutting the door behind. Moyo almost clapped a hand on Robbe’s shoulder, but seemed to think better of it in favor of a saddened smile. It didn’t really help. Robbe wasn’t sure if they ended tonight on good terms.

“We’re going to bed early,” Aaron suggested. “We have to get a jump on those damn exams.”

“Leave it,” hissed Jens.

“I was just saying, we’re—”

“Leave it.”

“It’s a good idea,” said Robbe. “We’re going to bed early.” He hadn’t realized how angry he was all week until faced with its culmination. And now—now he was tired. Stupid and single and tired.

There were still no sheets on his bed; he hadn’t gotten around to doing anything with them. He could perform a cleaning spell on the mattress if it got too bad in their absence. Whatever. Robbe couldn’t be bothered to rifle through his trunk for a cleaner blanket, so he crossed the room and grabbed the one off the fourth bed.

Motherfucker. It smelled like Sander. He really couldn’t win, could he? Robbe threw the blanket to the decimated floor and curled up without any covering at all.

“He wasn’t that attractive,” said Jens, breaking his own rule. “Had to get those roots done again.”

Robbe clamped his pillow over his ears. “Shut up.”

“We haven’t been to Hogsmede in a while. Might be nice to go tomorrow. The four of us.”

Hogsmede. Robbe’s eyes burned.

“I need to stop at Honeyduke’s,” Aaron agreed. “It’s Live It Up week.”

“I’d fancy a pint at the Three Broomsticks.”

The Three Broomsticks. Robbe was not going to cry over this. It brought him back to Sander explaining their fake love story to Zoë, all the little accurate details, all the possibility… that’s all it was. A story. You don’t like me. He cast the Muffliato charm across his four-poster before the tears started flowing. Once they started, they didn’t stop until morning.

“You don’t have to tell us a thing,” Jens said. “We understand.”

I want to, Robbe thought. He rolled over and faced the wall for the remainder of the night.

***

As much as he would love to hardcore sulk, Robbe had never been that kind of person. Sander was gone. They weren’t even together for that long, so there wasn’t much sulking warranted. He took Saturday and Sunday as unofficial off-days before exams, in that he spent them with Jens, Moyo, and Aaron, pointedly not talking about Sander. They did not go to the Three Broomsticks. Jens passed a whole afternoon in Honeyduke’s, attempting to sample every flavor of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavor beans.

Okay, Robbe sulked. But not hardcore.

Robbe resolved that one Monday he would snap out of it in time to guard his outstandingin his five classes. What should he do? What had he learned? He could start there. Starting there was something.

1. He should never drop a class for someone he wasn’t really dating.

Robbe’s Potions exam was the first on Monday, and he went into it grossly unprepared, despite hours of common room studying. There was a large difference between reading theory and enacting what it said. Plus, a lot of his library time focused more on Sander’s eyes than on the written material.

Everyone else chopped up their beans and sprinkled them into their brews without difficulty. Robbe couldn’t remember how many he should use. In the end, he dumped a whole handful in completely whole and stirred counter-clockwise. How much could it hurt, anyway? He left fifteen minutes before the exam period was up, and the Potions master did not bother to stop him. The Drought of Living Death he prepared could probably kill the whole class, Britt and all, even if not in the way it was meant to.

Why had he stopped attending in person? What could Britt have done to him? It hit him—she probably knew the dating thing was fake from the beginning. Sander might have planned it all out to make Robbe look like an idiot.

That wouldn’t account for that night in the workshop.

Fuck that night in the workshop.

Sander waited outside the Potions classroom, his back on the wooden doorframe. Britt would be done soon. It didn’t give Robbe any satisfaction to brush by Sander without speaking—or at least, not until he saw Sander rubbing his arm in the aftermath. Robbe must have hit him with the door.

“Sorry,” he called over his shoulder, hoping it sounded blasé.

It could have been anyone there, he thought. Sander wasn’t special anymore. Then he went to his bedroom and stared at the wall over it.

2. He was not straight.

The specifics were, as of yet, unclear. He was in love with Sander, which meant he liked boys, but he’d kind of liked Noor too. Not romantically. Or even sexually. But like, he enjoyed her company.

Sometimes.

He wasn’t in love with Sander anymore, though, definitely not. Robbe figured if he told himself that at least four to five times a day, it might become a little more accurate. Two weeks was too short a time to fall for someone.

After all this, he needed to get Jens alone and lay it all on at once. Bad phrasing be damned. The boys began packing their belongings on Wednesday, after a mostly uneventful Transfiguration exam (Moyo turned his cockroach into a pair of earrings that still moved their spindly antennae—he seemed satisfied). They would leave on Saturday afternoon. Aaron tried a simple cleaning spell, Scourgify, and ended up scattering his belongings to the four corners of the castle. He scurried away to pack the rest manually, Moyo at his heels to help.

Jens and Robbe were alone. Robbe was ready to talk about it.

“Why is Moyo always here?” asked Jens, in a way that made it sound like he was breaking the tension.

His plan failed, of course, because Robbe was already speaking. “We have to talk about something.”

They stared at each other. Jens blinked.

“There’s a lot I haven’t told you,” Robbe began. “I wanted to, but it was always so complicated.”

“Uh, sure, okay.” Jens shoved a crumpled shirt into his trunk, followed by a pair of ripped slacks he could never wear to class again.

“This thing I had with Sander… it was fake to him. But, well, uh, to me—”

Jens nodded. “I know.”

Damnit, no.

“Jens,” Robbe tried a second time, “I’ve realized some things about myself recently. They kind of explain other things, from earlier, so…” He switched tactics. Who knew how long until Moyo and Aaron returned? “Do you remember when you and Jana broke up? How you found out about what’s-his-name and—”

Another shirt in the trunk. Some more destroyed pants. “Yeah.”

“Cool. So um, you should understand that it was—” It was never this awkward to talk to Jens before. Jens was supposed to be easy. Robbe folded his shirts by hand, like his mother did, and placed them carefully in his own luggage as he thought of how best to phrase this. “I did it on purpose. She was gonna tell you and I—well I said—”

“You’re not making sense.”

“I know things about myself now. Learned them. From that. and this.” Here it came, the big jump. Even though Robbe knew Jens, Aaron, and Moyo outlined a whole plan to get him and Sander together, he still worried about what they’d say when confronted with the reality of it. “Jens, I’m—"

“I know.”

No, that wouldn’t work. Again, “Jens, please, I’m—”

“It’s okay, Robbe, I know—”

“I don’t want you to know!” Robbe flopped a shirt down harder than he intended. “I want you to let me say it.” He took a deep breath. “I’m gay. That’s who I am. With or without Sander. Okay? I need you to understand that it’s like that with or without him.”

“I—”

“Don’t say you know. You’re my best friend.”

“Okay,” said Jens. “I understand.”

“Good.”

Jens closed his trunk on top of some clothing that spilled out the sides. He sat down on it to close the latch. Then he reached out and gathered Robbe into the tightest hug ever. It wasn’t nearly everything that Robbe wanted to say, but it was some, and Jens didn’t run away from him. Sexuality crisis, somewhat had. Robbe was sure there would be more later.

3. You don’t like me.

Robbe’s final exam was History of Magic. Luckily, his cramming paid off. He breezed through the questions on the first and second wars faster than any of his peers and was out the door within thirty minutes.

Most students were trapped in their classrooms for another half-hour or more. Empty corridor stretched in all directions, and Robbe didn’t have anything to do for the rest of the day. He knew where he wanted to go.

Sure enough, his astronomy tower perch was vacant. Bright sunlight dyed the campus in shades of yellow and gold, made the upper turrets appear as drawings from a children’s book. Robbe noted in passing that someone had collected Sander’s picnic blanket from its forlorn position on the roof. That made sense. Filch himself must have cleaned.

From overhead, soft music played. Robbe was sure he was hallucinating. He sat down on the sill.

Oh fuck, maybe not hallucinating. Noon cast a shadow of someone above onto the roof below.

Sander’s blanket wasn’t where he’d dropped it on night one because Sander sat on the overhang above the window. He had it splayed across the shingles, a compact player oozing the final lines of that same damn song on a loop, his wand gripped in his hands.

Robbe couldn’t escape him. Couldn’t escape how he felt about him. He could bring it under his control if he made it look purposeful.

“Hey,” he said. “Don’t you have class?”

Sander startled.

This was a mistake. Never mind. Robbe should go.

He leaned even further out the window for a better view of Sander’s setup. A stack of textbooks balanced precariously, end on end, held aloft by a complicated charm of some sort. A quill rolled down the roof and stopped as if by an invisible wall. Sander had created a bubble for his things.

“Cheers to exams,” Robbe said, a bit louder. Sander did not look at him. The music cranked itself up to mask Robbe’s voice—perhaps it was spelled to muffle all noise Sander did not want to hear. That wasn’t fair. “This is my spot.”

“You said you didn’t want to be friends,” said Sander. He didn’t sound upset. Why did Robbe expect him to be upset?

“Can you turn down the music?”

“Britt’s going to join me.”

“That isn’t really what I asked.” Robbe wondered if interactions like this would ever stop hurting. But he didn’t feel as bad as he felt last week. Or on Friday night. Maybe the finality of a no was all he needed to move on. He recalled Sander’s speech word-for-word, mostly the end. You don’t like me.

It hit Robbe in a moment of irrational bravery, when Sander’s music dialed up in volume. Their first night in the astronomy tower, together, illuminated by Britt’s wand. The CD playing in the background. Sander knew what he was wearing on a specific double-date on a specific day—there was no denying something existed between them.

And to have Sander talk like that, say it was nothing… it wasn’t nothing, not to Robbe, and Sander needed to hear it.

So he said it. No introduction, no nothing. “I liked you.”

The Major-Tom-planet song quieted. Definitely some kind of magic there.

“I liked you so much,” he said again. Now that it existed, now that it was said, there was nothing to stop him from continuing. “You can’t tell me I didn’t.”

One of Sander’s quills rolled to the edge of the bubble, only this time, it dropped out and fell the length of the tower.

“We made it up, we agreed,” Sander whispered. “I’m sorry.” He slid down from the roof, landing beside Robbe on the sill, then jumped to the floor. His belongings trailed behind him in a floating line.

Robbe stood his ground and blocked the staircase. “It’s not your thing to decide.” His voice softened. “I liked you. So that’s that. And it’s done.”

Sander scuffed the floor with his shoe.

“Good. You never have to see me again.” Robbe pointed down the stairs for dramatic effect. “I have class. Bye.”

He felt lighter than he had all week when he descended the staircase. Any lighter, and he would have missed it when Sander said, “I liked you, too.”

4. He was a jerk to Noor.

Robbe sought her out on the train home, abandoning his friends in their own little compartment. They had plenty to discuss without his involvement. Pranks and whatnot. The usual. Noor was alone in a compartment near the back of the train, a dozen or so scrolls of parchment dispersed around her. She wrote on one with a broken quill.

She wasn’t a bad person. Robbe should have just told her. The least he could do was tell her when everything was over.

“Hey,” he said, taking the seat across from her.

She looked up, surprised. “Hello.”

“You seemed like you could use some company.”

Noor blushed. “No, I—Britt’s sitting elsewhere, and I have a lot to do.”

“With Sander,” Robbe supplied.

“What?”

“Britt’s with Sander.”

“Oh, um, actually—”

Robbe wasn’t in the mood for the nitty-gritty details of whatever Britt and Sander had going on. Obviously it was toxic. Not his problem. Besides, this conversation was for Noor’s sake, not his own.

“Listen, about me and him,” he said. “I need to apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to lead you on.” He hoped it wouldn’t get awkward. The extent of his recent planning was pretty much just say it without warning and hope it works out.

“I don’t read smoke signals,” said Noor curtly. She set her quill down on the seat next to her, ink stains bleeding into the cushioning. “But I get it.”

“No, it was fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Awkward silence. Robbe wasn’t built for prolonged chatter with anyone besides Jens, Moyo, and Aaron. The girls’ group was the exception, and only when Jana and Zoë were present. He fiddled with the beginning of a hole in his yellow sweater.

“I suppose I should apologize too,” said Noor, after a while. “That was fucked up, to say he’d get bored of you. I was a little—well, you know.”

“If it helps,” Robbe said, “you were right.”

Noor frowned. She sat up in her seat, and her parchment fell to the carriage floor. The sweets trolley passed by their sliding doorway without stopping—its driver could likely sense the tension. Robbe explained, “He’s back with Britt.”

“No, he isn’t,” said Noor. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Jana said—”

“Who would know better: Jana, or me?”

Robbe fumbled for something to say in response. Actually, now was a pretty good time to get out, before the topic became any more serious. He said, “He broke up with me.”

“It wasn’t for Britt. She helped him through some stuff, sure, but everyone knows that train’s come and gone.”

“I guess I’m just boring,” Robbe said.

“Bullshit.” Noor picked up her parchment again. She dipped her quill into her ink and began her writing anew, on whatever mess this was. Robbe couldn’t read fucking cursive. “I don’t believe it. Britt says he adored you.”

Robbe didn’t know what to make of that. There was no way he could segue into his next point, which was, of course, that their dating arrangement wasn’t real in the first place, especially after something so honest from Noor. He gave a bullshit excuse, something about chasing the sweets trolley, and got the hell out of there.

***

Robbe said goodbye to Moyo on the train platform. Jens and Aaron lived close enough that their parents parked in the same general vicinity, meaning that they could walk over as a trio. Robbe considered awaiting Sander on the platform as well. Every time he learned something new about Sander’s behavior when he wasn’t there, he got more and more confused. What fake relationship could be convincing enough to have Sander’s ex lamenting its reality?

The boys shared idle gossip on their way to the parking lot. Nothing substantial. Robbe’s head was too full of thoughts, most of them Sander-related. He wasn’t angry, or upset, or tired right now. How did knowing one little thing from Noor make a difference in his overall mood? They split off to their respective parents with casual goodbyes and a promise to write at least once during the holidays.

“Hey,” called Jens, just as Robbe opened the shotgun side.

Robbe turned back, his rucksack swinging off his shoulder. He swiped a hand across his eyes.

“Were you in love with him? Actually?”

They spent two weeks together. Two weeks, plus months and months of pining from afar that couldn’t count for much. It was supposed to last longer. What had Sander said, that day after their date? He wanted it to continue through the holiday break. And now, nothing. Robbe summarized this feeling the only way he knew how: “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

He climbed into his mother’s waiting car, and with that, it was Christmastime at the Ijzermans house.

#sobbe #wtfock #sander driesen #robbe ijzermans #hogwarts au #fake dating #fanfiction #sobbe fanfic

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that-sarcastic-writer · 4 years

Text

Injured Brat- Malcolm Bright X Reader

Fandom: Prodigal Son

Pairing: Malcolm Bright X Reader

Summary: you get into an a small argument with Malcolm after the incident with the Junkyard Killer

Warnings: spoilers ig? Not a lot, cursing, mentions of injuries, fluff, some whump because I know y'all love whump

WC: 2k

Tag list

A/N: yes omg fucking finally!!! I wrote a Malcolm one shot. This is my first Malcolm related work so this is kinda shit probably. I’m not exactly sure if I even portrayed Mal correctly. But I tried and I had fun writing it. So, hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Ps, I didn’t have anyone other than me proof edit so if there are any mistakes or spelling errors, my apologies

Not my gif @malcolmbright

When Gil’s name popped up on your screen in the middle of the night, you knew something was up. You knew Malcolm had gotten himself into trouble, that would be the only logical explanation as to why Gil had to personally call you instead of Malcolm himself.

“Is he dying? Or do I get to kill him myself?” Was your immediate response to Gil telling you Malcolm was injured. After making sure he wasn’t in any danger of course.

“He’s got a few broken bones and some bruising, a severely damaged ego, but he’ll make it.” Gil responded with a small chuckle.

You sighed, nodding to yourself in relief. You were obviously glad Malcolm was okay, but god did you want to strangle him at that moment. “Alright, I’ll be there in a few. Don’t yell at him too much. That’s my job.” You said as you maneuvered around to slip on a pair of sweatpants and shoes while holding your phone to your ear.

“Sure thing kid, see ya in a few.”

Once Gil had hung up, you properly slipped up the fabric up your legs and quickly tied your shoes. You had already been wearing Malcolm’s Harvard sweater so you didn’t have to worry about that. You looked like a train wreck to say the least. But you had been home all day and had no plans of leaving Malcolm’s loft. Guess that wasn’t gonna happen now was it.

As you somehow attempted to fix your hair you grabbed your purse and keys, and you were on your way to yell at your boyfriend for the next three hours.

~~~~~~~~

You were quick to arrive at the precinct. Passing any and all speed limits in the process. When you arrived at the precinct, you were instantly met with Gil’s voice echoing through the halls, even with the door closed. You exhaled deeply as you passed Dani and JT, who were sitting at their desks doing some paperwork. They sent knowing smiles your way as you twisted the doorknob to open the door.

Gil was in the middle of scolding Malcolm, accompanied by shouts when you walked in his office. Both males turned your way when you made your presence known. Malcolm instantly looked down, much like a child that had been caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

You eyed him for a minute. His shirt was unbuttoned revealing his most definitely bruised body and the gauze that was wrapped around his torso. His arm was wrapped around it as well as he was clearly in a lot of pain. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

“You’re so lucky Gil called me and not your mother.” You said to Malcolm as you stepped in front of him, eyes narrowed into a frown and your arms rested on your hips. Much like a mother who was scolding her naughty child.

Malcolm chuckled, “Well, you’re going to yell as me as much as she would so, I don’t see the improvement.” He said with a sigh, rolling his eyes a bit.

You gave him an ‘oh really’ look as you narrowed your eyes even further, “well I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such an irresponsible dumbass.” You whisperer yelled, not wanting to make a scene.

Once again, Malcolm rolled your eyes at your words, knowing you were mostly right, but of course, he wasn’t going to say that, nor admit it. He was going to argue, “Y/N,”

“No,” you quickly cut him off before he could even start, “what the hell were you thinking? Going after a killer like that! He could’ve killed you! Hell, he almost did!” Now you were yelling. In any other situation, you would never yell at Malcolm, but knowing he was purposely putting himself in that kind of danger, that really pushed at your buttons. You knew you would feel bad about it later. You’d make sure to apologize to him later. But now was the time to yell.

Malcolm shook his head, wincing a bit, the slightest movement causing all sorts of pain. “He wasn’t going to kill me. He knows I’m my father’s son. He doesn’t want to kill me, not yet anyway.”

You couldn’t believe how lightly Malcolm was taking this whole situation. You were beyond frustrated to say the least. You were honestly trying so hard not to snap out on him right then and there “Malcolm, you can’t just run off after a killer on your own. You are not a cop, you are unarmed and you’re a civilian. You need to wait for backup.” You emphasized your words as much as you could, even using your hands as you spoke.

“See? She agrees with me.” Gil spoke in, cutting right through the tense air that filled the room.

Malcolm couldn’t look any more guilty. He looked like a kicked puppy, his blue eyes were big and dead staring at you. Almost as if those puppy dog eyes would soothe your altered state. “Darling I-”

“Malcolm, we’re not having this conversation right now,” you cut him off again, rubbing a hand over your face slightly as you turned your attention to the older man who was witnessing your domestic dispute. “Can I take him home?”

“Please, take him, and keep him home. I don’t want to see him here for a few days.” Gil said, eyeing Malcolm sternly. Who, like the injured puppy that he was, simply nodded with a sigh.

After thanking Gil one more time for calling you, you were both on your way. You were still very upset and frustrated with Malcolm, as it was extremely obvious due to the way you refused to exchange a single word with him. He didn’t push it though, he simply followed after you like a lost puppy, his head hanging a bit low as he walked.

The ride back to his loft wasn’t much different. It mainly consisted of Malcolm, sitting on the passenger’s side looking at you with his big blue puppy dog eyes, hoping you’d talk to him. But you didn’t. You’d figured it’d be best to just drive in silence. You didn’t want to say anything that would hurt him while being upset.

Once you arrived at Malcolm’s loft, he instantly freed himself from all the clothing on his upper body, leaving him with the gauze around his bruised and shirtless torso. He eased himself down onto one of the chairs by the kitchen island, a moan of discomfort leaving his lips as he did so.

A deep heavy sigh left your lips as you freed yourself from your shoes and sweatpants, because, fuck wearing pants at home. Your bare feet made the wooden floor creak as you stepped into the kitchen. You grabbed a bag of peas from the freezer and walked around the island to give Malcolm the bag. You placed it not so subtly against his ribs, a groan leaving his lips as a result of it. “Thank you,” he smiled through the pain as he held the cold bag tightly against his bruised ribs, hoping to ease a smile into you and sighed when you only half nodded in response.

Deep down, you truly felt bad about the way you were reacting to this whole situation. You should maybe be more understanding, more supportive. But the fact that he continuously put himself in harm’s way without caring about anything else truly frustrated you. And despite what you might have to say about it, he continued to put himself in danger with extreme carelessness. Maybe you shouldn’t be so harsh with him, but the fact that you were so upset wasn’t exactly helping.

You walked around the island once again and reached for the cabinets where Malcolm kept his pills. You grabbed all the bottles you figured he might need and filled a glass with water. You placed all items on the island in front of him and stepped around it to walk away, but his voice stopped you in your tracks. “So are you just going to give me the silent treatment forever?”

“Are you going to continue to put yourself in danger?” You asked rhetorically, a sarcastic smile claiming ownership of your lips as you stood beside Malcolm with a hand over your hip. He let out a heavy sigh and rubbed the back of his neck slightly, not really having a response. “There’s your answer then.” You turned on your heel to walk away, but stopped when Malcolm lightly grabbed your arm.

“Darling,” he said softly, gently pulling you close enough to where he could hold you without straining his already sore muscles. You stood there, allowing him to rest his hands on your waist, but the annoyed look on your face remained. “I can handle broken ribs, I can handle being sore. I can even handle a broken ego. But I can’t handle you being angry with me,” he said, his big blue eyes staring at you with a gentle gaze, eyes begging you silently. “So please, don’t be angry with me.”

The eyes. The fucking eyes. You couldn’t stay mad at those puppy dog eyes. You groaned with annoyance, stomping your foot slightly as you were starting to fall back under his charming spell. “Mal,” you finally cracked. The moment you used the nickname, all the anger and annoyance you were feeling began to fade. The moment that nickname slipped through, Malcolm knew he had won this battle. “I’m sorry. I just worry so much. I can’t stop worrying about you. And when your dumbass gets hurt, I panic. I just don’t know how to handle it.” You finally said, your eyes getting a bit glossy. You weren’t crying, but your eyes were a bit watery from the accumulated frustration and worry.

“I know sweetheart, I know.” He carefully ran a hand over your face, his smooth fingers gracing over your skin gently. “But that’s okay. Because that just shows you love me.” He smiled stupidly at you, dimples showing. His smiles were always so contagious you had to smile too.

“Of course I love you. ‘Cause unfortunately for me I’m in love with your dumb ass.” You playfully rolled your eyes, but you just couldn’t hide the smile on your lips.

“And I’m forever thankful for it.” He chuckled, leaning in for a kiss, “can I get a kiss?”

You nodded, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his rosy pink lips, both of you smiling into the kiss, “you’re still not off the hook though. If you ever pull something like this, I will hurt you.” You shot him a playful glare his way when you pulled away.

Malcolm had a knowing smile on his lips as he leaned back on his chair, his hands returning to hold the forgotten bag of beans to his torso, “did I ever mention how incredibly beautiful you look with my sweater?” He was obviously trying to be extremely charming and seductive, that was kinda his natural thing.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you looked down at said sweater, tugging on the ends of it with a bit of shyness, “charming. Real charming.” You pecked his lips another time before you stepped around the island to the fridge, “go laid down. I’ll bring you something to eat.” You nudged at him as you pulled out Malcolm’s favorite kind of cheese and grabbed the bag of bread from the counter.

“You’re the best.” He smiled brightly at you, knowing just exactly what you were going to make him and carefully hopped off the chair.

“I know.” You blew him a kiss and smiled before you turned your attention to the only meal your boyfriend could handle eating.

He was limping his way over to your shared bed, but he stopped mid way and turned around to look at you. “Hey darling,” he called out. You turned in his direction and nodded at him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Mal.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Malcolm Bright Tag list: @fueled-by-fanfic @missscorp @coollllllduse @while-the-world-sleeps @twistnet @thatesqcrush @im-a-mess-that-works @chengukargbo

#malcolm bright #prodigal son #malcolm bright x reader #malcolm bright imagine #malcolm bright fic #x reader

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bestworstcase · 3 years

Text

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 5-6

- mixed feelings about eugene’s first impressions of cassandra here. on the one hand, she did make a snide remark about him being a thief, which must sting when he’s already making an active attempt at self-improvement and attending classes in criminal justice. this isn’t tts eugene - who spends 6-7 months loafing around the palace basking in luxury until cass drags him for being self-absorbed and lazy. this eugene has a work ethic and seems to feel some actual responsibility regarding his new role as rapunzel’s consort. it’s not fair for cass to make a snap judgment about him based on his past and decide to be rude to him because of it.

on the other hand… he and rapunzel did just barge into her space against her will and her subsequent prickliness was reasonable, which eugene doesn’t seem to have any awareness of. and taking into consideration the likelihood that this cass is supposed to be about 17 while eugene is an established adult, that isn’t a fun vibe.

- sort of amused by the role reversal of eugene, in the licensed fanfic cassunzel s1 au, is the one who introduces rapunzel to the library. i guess the key to unlocking rapunzel’s romance option is to not show her the books. but also, why is eugene the one showing her around lol

- did he steal from the coronan palace so much that he just knows where everything is

- the dialogue in this chapter is… hm

“You can take these books back to your room if you want,” Eugene said.

“I can?” I said, staring at the stocked shelves around me.

“I think I’ll open a window,” Eugene said. “It’s a little musty in here.”

like what’s going on here? is this a dialogue bug introduced by spot editing that didn’t get patched before publishing? does eugene have adhd? is this a romance novel™ thing to demonstrate that while eugene and rapunzel talk to each other plenty they’re not on the same wavelength to such an extent that raps asks a question and eugene responds with a complete non-sequitur, which will be contrasted with how completely rapunzel and cass ‘click’ together later? hello?

- one point in favor of the romance novel™ theory is that immediately after this eugene conks out instead of sharing in rapunzel’s discovery and exploration of the library and it is implied he is having a fun flynn rider dream ie he’s lost in his own fantasies and oblivious to rapunzel’s. symbolism!

- anyhoo, this is when the plot device of the ‘lost lagoon’ book of poems turns up. i will say that, having spent the better part of my teen years working in an actual library, it beggars belief to say that a book got shoved behind other books in a popular section (sports) by mistake and got left that way for so long that dust blooms out of it when it’s finally cracked open again; likewise, anyone who attempted to intentionally hide the book this way is an idiot. my dude, you are in a palace riddled with secret passageways. maybe hide the secret book there?

like it’s not even well-hidden. rapunzel pulls out one (1) book from the sports section and immediately spots it. which also just feels dumb. like… there’s a million other ways this book could have been hidden. inside another book would have been more believable. rapunzel rips a bone-dry book of census records off the top shelf because she’s insatiably curious about corona’s people and surprise! it’s got this slim little book of poetry crammed inside it. like ??? i know it’s juv fic but make an effort

- coronans canonically speak english according to this i’m die

- rapunzel hides the book from arianna just… because, and i can’t help but feel this is another case of anxiety written by someone who doesn’t quite get it. she’s ‘just not ready’ to share this book of poems that means absolutely nothing to her yet except that she thought it sounded pretty.

but like. this girl grew up with gothel, who made a habit of belittling her interests, thoughts, feelings, and desires. everything rapunzel had she had because gothel deigned to give it to her, and anything she valued could have been snatched away just as easily. in the film it’s made clear that rapunzel hides pascal’s entire existence from gothel, and while the reason for this isn’t spelled out, it’s clear to me that she was afraid gothel might hurt or get rid of pascal should she learn of his existence. so, like. this is all a recipe for rapunzel having this general anxiety about things being taken for her and with this fear being linked to mother figures it makes sense that arianna would tend to trigger it especially. there is a perfectly obvious, understandable reason for rapunzel to be terrified of sharing anything she found by herself and sees value in or is excited about with her new mom, even if she knows rationally that arianna would never take it from her.

as it is, it really comes across more as an arbitrary plot device to keep the lagoon a cassunzel-only thing.

- there’s a lot of odd characterization decisions in this book but i think rapunzel being resistant and reluctant with regards to the idea of having a human companion is probably the weirdest. ??

- arianna feels like she’s characterized the way a lot of fanworks characterize her, i.e. the authorial mouthpiece who (in the case of cassunzel fic specifically) overtly ships cassunzel and does things to facilitate that relationship. don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see her doing stuff at all, but… i dunno, i find this brand of arianna doing things just a little wearying. let her just be her own character.

- implication is that arianna and the captain agreed that cass would be rapunzel’s lady-in-waiting, arianna okays this with rapunzel and then tells rapunzel to announce it to cassandra at this public holiday feast. with no prior warning. wow. i think the kindest possible reading here is that the captain has been telling arianna that cass would be delighted and honored to receive this position and arianna assumes he’ll give cass a heads-up as a courtesy beforehand, but that paints the captain in a pretty bad light on account of him lying and essentially manipulating the queen in order to force his teenage daughter to accept this huge responsibility that she vocally does not want. in any case, absolutely nobody involved in this shitshow gives a damn what cass wants.

- lagoon comes in hard with the saporian!cass symbolism l o l. rapunzel reads a saporian poem out loud, not knowing what it means but loving the sounds, while daydreaming about becoming friends with cass.

- arianna seems to genuinely believe cass will be thrilled to have the lady-in-waiting gig sprung on her, which seems to lend credence to the theory that cap has been talking it up as something cass wants. or the intention here is to paint arianna as an out of touch noblewoman, but i don’t think that’s what howland was going for. i don’t know, it’s an odd conversation.

- eugene calls cassandra “sport” lmfao

- lagoon cass has never read a book in her life, apparently

- i don’t want to keep harping on this too much but it keeps leaping off the page at me; cass’s behavior throughout this dinner scene really just bleeds teenagerhood. eugene and rapunzel both make actual stabs at conversation by asking her about things they know she’s interested in, and cass brushes them off/stonewalls them. in tts, on the other hand, cass is actually pretty open to deep conversations with both rapunzel and eugene—it’s just that they never. ask her about herself. eugene goes 6-7 months before he asks cassandra a personal question in cassandra vs eugene, which if i remember right is the only time he asks her a personal question. rapunzel gets very invested very fast in becoming friends with cassandra, but she does it by strong-arming cass into being her partner in a contest, and when cass decides to open up to her it isn’t in response to rapunzel asking her things. the dynamic is totally different.

- actually now that i think about it - lagoon cass feels a lot like the cranky new dreamer version of cass (you know, the flavor of new dream fans who resent cass for ‘being mean’ to eugene, ‘being controlling’ of rapunzel, and ‘stealing’ eugene’s narrative spotlight). this cass is rude, she does come off as a bit spoiled and very bratty, she is nasty to eugene for no good reason, and while i do sympathize with her on the grounds of her evidently being a child i don’t find her to be especially likable or compelling as a character. if cass acted like this in tts i think the cranky new dreamer contingent of the fandom would have a much stronger leg to stand in - especially if she was still supposed to be 22.

like… this:

“So,” Eugene said, distracting me. “What’s it like to be the daughter of the captain of the guard? You obviously have a thing for weapons.”

“So,” I said.

“Have you been training since you were a little kid?” Eugene pressed on. “Do you have friends in the castle?”

“No,” I said. “Who needs friends?”

“Jeez!” Eugene muttered while Rapunzel whispered with the queen. “I don’t need just any icebreaker here, I need a pickax.”

I rolled my eyes.

this is way more interest in cass as a person than eugene shows in tts… like ever. at this point, eugene has met cass ONCE for a few MINUTES and he already knows more about her than he does in cassandra vs eugene, after six or seven months of frequent contact. yet cass scoffs and gives him monosyllabic answers and radiates way more hostility for way less reason than she displays even in tangled before ever after. i think eugene is totally justified in going, yeesh, what’s this kid’s deal?

- rapunzel goes straight from “i’d like you to be my lady-in-waiting” to “you’re my new lady-in-waiting!” without waiting for cass to answer. and i mean, at this point it is a done deal, queen’s orders and all, so i can’t hold this against rapunzel at all. but man, the adults involved in this decision sure aren’t concerned at all about making sure rapunzel learns how boundaries and consent works.

How was I going to train? How was I going to live the life I was born to live?

Fury heated my blood as I stared down the moon.

heh.

i wonder how much howland knew regarding the planned villain arc, because on the one hand lines like this are drenched in foreshadowing, and she’s done a much better job establishing cassandra’s belief in destiny than tts did. but on the other, had she known about the gothel twist, she would surely have known that cassandra is several years older than rapunzel, and that doesn’t square with how cass… acts.

this is half-remembered hearsay so take it with a grain of salt, but i seem to recall something about cass, in her original conception, being younger than rapunzel (and also aware of her parentage, and secretly villainous all along). could howland have been working from information given to her during the transitional stage between that proto-cass and tts cass? that would explain a lot.

- the last paragraph of 6 is the most effective passage in the book thus far:

This was a decision that had bars around it. I couldn’t protest without falling out of favor with the king and queen, and then there would be no way I’d ever be allowed in the guard. I couldn’t argue my way out of this with my father. A royal assignment was the final word. My fate had been sealed. I fell to my knees and stifled a scream.

#lost lagoon reread #rta #cassunzel

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sparklingpax · 4 years

Text

A Different Side (1/2)

Summary: Optimus comes back from an unsuccessful mission and seems to be out of sorts...but there’s more to that story.

///

A/N:

-This is a rather silly fic, so do not worry I promise there is nothing inappropriate or heavy in this one at all! It’s,,,a dumb idea I had in History the other day,,,I wrote most of it between/during class periods, and edited the rest when I was supposed to be doing homework at home! :’)

-Please excuse any typos, grammar mistakes, ooc-ness, weird phrasings, punctuation errors, or really just anything that looks weird or isn’t right; I’m an amateur and I do this stuff for fun! So I’m naturally not the best at it....keep that in mind pls...

-WHAT IS THIS TITLE IM SO SORRY--

-Ok but this story is honestly kinda dumb goumen I’ll write better things soon

-Set in the TFP universe!

-This only has two parts, so this be the first and the next update is the end of it.... 😹😹 ^^’’

Enjoy! :D

///

“Eat my dust, Jack!”

“Not if I pass you first!!”

“No, you won’t!!!”

“Says who?!”

Two cars raced around the base, one just barely passing the other.

Miko and Jack had gone head-to-head, racing one last tournament before they had to go home—after the tie last round, they just had to know who, really, was the victor of the day. The two of them shouted competitively as they jammed the controls in one direction or another. Excited, Raf looked on. He, too, was curious of the outcome.

At present, only Ratchet had remained at base.

The others had gone out to investigate an abandoned energon mine somewhere in Maine. Optimus had visited the location once before but was not able to reach the source of the readings he’d gotten.

Therefore, since there had been no Decepticon activity in the past week or so, he took his team to search the caverns.

They were due to return in about 10 minutes, according to Ratchet. When they did, each guardian was then going to take their human companion home.

It was a normal day at the Autobot base.

“NO WAY—”

“TAKE THAT!!!!”

Jack threw his fist in the air triumphantly while Miko crumpled to the floor in defeat. Raf burst into laughter as she actually went and laid flat on her back.

“The horror! I’ve let Jack win!!” She overdramatically wailed. Then, after a moment, sat up and giggled along with Raf and Jack. As the two went to retrieve their cars, Raf scampered up to Ratchet.

“Hey, Ratchet. What are you doing?”

The medic sighed, continuing to tinker with what looked like some kind of tool. “Fixing one of Bulkhead’s….accidents,” He muttered. With a sigh, he remembered the large mech smashing it while trying to reenact a fight he had, showing off to Miko. Naturally, the girl had been amazed, but it was short-lived as Ratchet, too, had witnessed that retelling.

Raf fixed his glasses. “I’m sure it was just an accident, Ratchet.”

With an eyeroll, Ratchet responded, “It was, but that doesn’t make it any less of an inconvenience, Rafael. It was quite immature of him, too.” He held it up to the light to observe a small detail of the frame.

“Oh…I see.”

“Thank the Allspark it’s not one of my more important tools,” he murmured, mostly to himself. Ratchet put it down for a moment to check on the progress of the rest of the team’s expedition.

He pushed the comm button. “Optimus, come in. Have you found anything? Is everyone okay?”

“Negative, Ratchet. There is nothing left in these caves,” he reported, a faint note of disappointment in his tone. “Though, everyone is fine. We require a bridge.”

“Understood.”

Ratchet tapped a few more buttons to lock onto their coordinates and pulled the lever, activating the groundbridge. Miko and Jack broke off their conversation and joined Raf to stand by Ratchet, waiting for their guardians’ returns.

Sure enough, after a moment, the team came through the portal with a swishing noise, Optimus the last one through. While the three kids gravitated to their partners, Optimus merely stood at the bridge. He remained for a moment, passing his gaze over his team.

Then, without a word, he turned and headed down the halls—to his room.

“Did you really think….” Arcee trailed off her snide remark at Jack as she heard Optimus’s heavy footsteps go past everyone and down the hall. She and Jack exchanged looks as everyone else, also, noticed this.

After a short spell of silence, Miko finally spoke up.

“Is he mad or something? Cuz I mean, geez—he didn’t even say hello.” She folded her arms.

“No, Miko,” Ratchet responded, sounding a little exasperated. “What could he be angry over, if he were?” More silence followed his words. It was not often Optimus actually showed what he was feeling like this.

Everyone was therefore concerned.

“Do you think…he might be, like, really disappointed about not finding anything in the caves, then?” Jack asked, drifting from Arcee to the groundbridge area. “I mean, from what he’s been saying, you guys really needed that energon…”

“He could just be tired, too,” Raf chimed in. The bots thought for a moment.

Bumblebee shifted from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. ‘I just hope he’s okay…’

Ratchet set his tools aside and headed for the hall. “I’ll go talk to him,” he said. The humans and bots exchanged glances, then nodded.

///

“So!” Ratchet huffed frustratedly, emerging from the halls. “He won’t open the door, and will not talk to me, either!” He threw his hands in the air with a noise of exasperation, trudging back to his station.

Rafael nudged Miko, who had her headphones in. Jack stood up and began down the stairs.

“I guess something is wrong,” Arcee murmured, folding her arms. She caught sight of Jack, regarding her companion with an inquisitive gaze.

“Jack?”

“I’ll talk to him.” He heard his own determined voice, then touched the back of his head with an awkward laugh. “I’ll—I’ll try, I mean…”

“Good luck,” Ratchet muttered bitterly, not taking his eyes off his current repair project. “If he even has the courtesy to acknowledge you at all.” Jack flashed a thumbs up.

He uneasily began to wonder what could have put Optimus so out of sorts that he wouldn’t even speak to Ratchet. It was also rare for Optimus to do this kind of thing, apparently.

Something told Jack it wasn’t just about the energon…but he still wanted to find out for himself.

“Later, Jack!” Raf called, scampering down the steps. Miko followed, slinging her backpack onto her shoulders. She waved.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go home now, but you better text us later, kay?” Bulkhead and Bumblebee then transformed, and the two kids hopped in. Ratchet, remembering he had to bridge them out, audibly sighed, slumping over.

“For the love of Primus, am I able to get any work done around here without constantly being interrupted?!”

That’s my cue to leave, Jack thought. He quickly hurried down the halls, not wanting to be the next victim of Ratchet’s frustration. He knew the medic only meant well, and that his work was important to him.

Still, he internally wished Ratchet had more patience. Even if he didn’t scare Jack, it was still unpleasant to be around the old bot when he was not in a good mood.

Speaking of which….

Jack came upon Optimus’s berth room, which was closed. He sucked in a breath, raising his arm to knock. Hesitation pulled his arm back after a second.

What if he is just resting? I’d be pretty ticked if someone interrupted my long nap…

A memory of Miko pushing him off the couch as a prank resurfaced. He remembered feeling frustrated more than anything else. Of course, she’d apologized, but that wasn’t really going to give him back those precious minutes of sleep.

He rolled his eyes. “What can you expect when you’re friends with Miko Nakadai, right?” He murmured, raising his arm again. But for the sake of satisfying my own curiosities, at least—

“Hey, Optimus?” Jack called, knocking lightly. When he received no response for a few minutes, he sighed and knocked again—this time, a bit louder. “Optimus!! Are you okay in there?”

There was a rustling noise from behind the door, but still no response. Jack decided to stop knocking. He put his back against the metal and slid to the floor. Maybe simply talking it out would help.

“You know, everyone’s kinda worried about you…” He sighed again, laughing a little. “Oh, and Ratchet’s kinda mad you didn’t even acknowledge him. So…you’re probably gonna have to apologize for that later…”

The boy bowed his head a little. It was possible Optimus wanted to be left alone right now. Coming to bother him might have been a mistake. Jack began to think up other ways he and the others could figure out—

“Jack.”

Optimus spoke at last, his voice sounding calm—completely level, actually. Instantly, the teen sprang to his feet and answered.

“Optimus! Ok, good. You’re alive, then,” he joked. When the Prime didn’t respond to his jest—naturally—Jack shook his head and chuckled quietly. “It’s ok, I was joking. Anyway—do you….wanna talk? Is everything ok? You seemed kind of sad when you came through the bridge…and you didn’t even tell us how it went…”

Didn’t tell us anything, actually, but I’ll leave that part out. I’m sure Optimus doesn’t want to be guilted for stuff at the moment.

There was another noise—it sounded a little more desperate before it abruptly came to a stop. Then, the Autobot leader’s hefty footsteps began to approach the door. Jack backed away, glad that his efforts seemed to have paid off. The large metal sheet slid upwards, revealing Optimus’ huge figure.

His face was completely expressionless, but he mustered a somewhat warm look when he gazed at Jack.

Well, at least Optimus said something and…opened his door, Jack consoled himself mentally. Even though I still don’t know what’s bothering him. Guess we’ll just have to wait for him to tell us…

“I will go apologize to Ratchet. It was not my intention to offend him…” He started out the door and down the hall. Then, he paused to face Jack for a moment as he added, “And my apologies also to you, I did not mean to worry anyone. Thank you for coming to get me.”

“Oh—no, don’t worry about that, Optimus. It’s fine.”

The Prime nodded briefly, saying nothing more. Jack watched him go. Now, he was even more confused than before.

So why were you acting weird when you got back to base?

By coincidence, his gaze happened to wander to Optimus’ open berth room. Jack had the sudden realization that he’d never seen Optimus’s berthroom before. Actually, he hadn’t seen any of the bots’ rooms since he’d known about their base.

He left the door open, it wouldn’t hurt to go take a look…I think?

Quietly, he padded inside. Taking a moment to look around, Jack noted that it was quite a huge space—way bigger than he’d expected from the size of the door.

It was also very….bare.

No posters, furnishings, or anything other than the walls, his berth, and a small shelf. On that shelf, there was nothing except for some mystery object shoved in the corner, covered by an old blue cloth.

“Exactly what you’d expect from a guy like Optimus,” Jack remarked to himself. He sighed and began to walk away, when suddenly a noise snapped his attention back around.

Back to the shelf.

Back to the blue cloth.

A noise that had come from….

“What is that thing?” Jack murmured to himself as he drew close to it again.

He jumped back as it vibrated and briefly glowed a bright blue. It seemed to come back to life as a steady humming filled the air of the room. The teen came to a halt right in front of the shelf, placing his hands on his hips as he stared at it, curious and confused.

Was he trying to hide this? Jack wanted even more to know what it did—what it was.

And while he stared at it, the object beneath the cloth made another noise.

“Roadwork ahead?? Uh, YEAH, I sure hope it does!”

For a moment, Jack stood immobile. Then, he burst into laughter.

Optimus was watching vines….he was watching vines….Optimus Prime was watching vines.

He suddenly remembered what had happened to his mom when she watched vine for the first time. For at least two long, painful weeks, the only things she said were vine quotes—in a failed attempt to be funny.

Optimus was watching….vines….oh no.

Jack turned on his heel and sprinted down the halls.

....

I’ll edit and fix stuff later; I’m in class rn lolol :’D

Thx for reading!! Feedback is always appreciated~

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sherlollydramoine · 4 years

Text

Detroit

Prompt 15: “not interested, thank you”

Fandom: Rami Malek/Need for Speed Movie

Pairing: Finn X Reader

Word Count: 2052

Warnings: Language, Alcohol consumption, Predatory Male Character (don’t worry–he gets his), Fist fight.

Here’s the follow up that was much requested to Broken Promises (HERE). Didn’t have time to edit this so please don’t mind my mistakes.

It had been just over a year since you’d walked out of his life away from everything that you’d ever know to start fresh. A good friend of yours from college worked for some big time corporation in Detroit whom upon hearing about what had happened and your need to start fresh had recommended you for a position. Everything was a blur after the interview having been basically hired on the spot and you needed to move quickly. The company itself owned several apartment buildings and was able to provide you housing for six months until you’d been able to secure one on your own. They’d been generous in allowing you three weeks to start, which enabled you to gather the remnants of your life with Finn, and put them on a truck.

You’d been unable to face him without feeling some kind of guilt. You did just walk out offering no explanation, after angrily expressing your frustration with his broken promises. Once you’d left there was no going back for you, you’d purposely fallen out of touch with everyone to avoid any updates on Finn.

“Hey, YN, boss needs you to run some files down to the second office,” your co-worker and roommate Alicia informed you as she perches herself on the corner of your desk crossing her legs over each other, her heel clacking against the faux wooden front of your desk. You kept clacking away at the business email you’d needed to finish typing, hitting spell check, then sending it off to digital transmission land.

Looking up at her nodding your head, you hated this corporate job with every fiber of your being, but it more than adequately paid your bills. Alicia was the only friend you’d made since your move to Detroit. The two of you bonded quickly over the fact that in the main office of this company, you were only two of three women.

“Yeah, sure I’ll run em down anyway since I’m out to lunch in about ten minutes anyway. Anybody need anything from the other office while I’m there?” you ask, you hated going down there. The fellas who were employed in the secondary office were far less refined than those on the top floor and were prone to make rude or outright lewd comments. The only man in the other office that never was rude or lewd was the actual office manager Doug, a kind man in his late forties that had a wife and four children.

“I don’t think so. At least no one has said anything to me about it. There is something you could do for me though?”

“Yeah sure Leesh what is it?”

“Could you give me the scoop on one of the newer guys down there? I heard some rumblings that he was gorgeous. Can’t remember his name though, Jen said he was kind of flirty in a goofy way and he talked about cars a lot.”

With a small laugh and a roll of your eyes, you agree to give her the scoop on the new hire, though a small part of you felt sad. That description could fit any number of men but it also aptly described your ex and it made your heartache a little bit. She wasn’t sure what cubicle he was located in but you figured it probably wouldn’t be overly tough to spot them. New hires were easy to spot: Ill-fitting suits, slightly tense, and they never seemed to know exactly what they were supposed to be doing.

Alicia gives you a big smile and then ambles away back towards her desk buzzing her boss to make sure that he had the files ready to go for her. You watch as she disappears into her boss’s office for a couple of minutes reappearing with a stack of manila files in her hand.

“Here ya go, darling. The top six files need to go to HR and then the rest go to Doug. I’ll see you after lunch.”

Pushing back from your desk and standing up, taking a moment to stretch as it had been way too long since you’d seated hunched over a computer answering emails for the last several hours. Taking the files from your friend you trek towards the elevator bank humming a song that had been stuck in your head. Dropping off the necessary files to HR and then getting back on the lift to drop off the last stack downstairs before your lunch break.

“Hey Doug,” you said with a friendly smile. “These are all yours,” you say as you set the large stack of manila folders stuffed to the gills with who knows what paperwork in his ‘INCOMING’ tray.

“Thanks YN, how’s it going upstairs?”

“Oh you know, the same ole same ole. I just do as I’m told,” you laugh out. You start walking back towards the door, “Anyway, I gotta go but let me know if there is anything that you need from upstairs.”

As you walk out of Doug’s office you catch a glimpse of a man with very familiar curly hair and your heart drops. You couldn’t help but stare thinking maybe you’ve hallucinated or if this was really happening. The man must have felt your eyes on him because when he looked up both of you gasped in shock.

You didn’t wait around for him to react instead sprinting down the corridor to the elevator. Trying to calm your breathing as you rode the elevator down to the main level of the building, walking across the marbled floors, and out the door as fast as you could.

What the fuck is he doing here? You thought. How fucking dare he come all the way to Detroit. He has no business being here.

After your second cup of coffee, you came to the realization that It didn’t matter as you likely weren’t going to see each other very often, you could do this. You were an adult after all. Instead of grabbing lunch, you grab another coffee and then head back upstairs to your office deciding to cut your lunch break short.

The rest of your day was spent working furiously not even realizing when it was quitting time until Alicia tapped on your desk with her perfectly manicured nails.

“Bitch, we’re going out!”

“Do I have to Leesh?”

“Yes, yes, you do. You never did give me the deets on the new guy. Is he as handsome and flirty as Jen said he was?”

“Yeah. He is, he’s also my fucking ex,” you respond dryly, watching her face morph from curious to curiouser.

Grabbing your bag and following her to the elevator making the quick decision that you’d go out. If there was ever a time when you needed a strong drink and some possible casual sex, it was tonight.

Alicia ends up taking you to one of your usual spots. As was common for the place it was crowded and loud full of other ‘suits’ wanting a little bit of fun on a Friday night. After scoring you both a prime spot to hang, she flings her bag onto the seat next to you and flounces off. Her red curly hair bouncing as she dances along to the beat of some heavily auto-tuned pop song that was blaring through the speakers.

Sitting back in your chair watching the random groups of people taking shots, sipping beers, out for nothing but another convivial Friday night.

In your observations, you failed to notice when Finn walked in with a group of co-workers still in his suit and tie. He fidgets nervously with his tie, loosening it while talking to one of your other co-workers.

Just then Alicia re-appeared with a small tray of assorted shots carefully setting it down to avoid sloshing the amber colored liquid over the shot glasses.

“Uh-oh babe, looks like you’re in for a heck of a time tonight,” she warns, tilting her head in the direction of Finn.

You look up in time to see Finn walk past your table, your eyes briefly catching before you lower yours, grab a drink off the tray, and slam it back.

“Fuck this night!” you yell out, grabbing another drink and repeating. Twenty minutes and five shots later you were definitely feeling good.

Grinding against Alicia on the dance floor giggling with each other forgetting all about the issue of your ex being in the same space as you.

Leaving the dance floor behind under the guise of thirst, Alicia goes back to the table while you grab another round of drinks. While waiting an attractive man you’ve never seen before turns to you to strike up conversation apparently, not really wanting to deal with any of that you turn your body away. Dealing with men right now was not necessarily high on your list of priorities since you were already a few shots deep.

“Hey gorgeous, let me buy you a drink?” the stranger asks.

“Not interested, thank you,” was the only thing you could think of to say. Inwardly cringing at how rude that sounded but at the moment you couldn’t be fucked to care.

“C’mon, what could it hurt? It’s just one drink,” he responds with a tone that made you suddenly angry.

“Yeah? One drink? And then what, mister? Then another one, and another until you’ve got me so drunk that you can take me home and use me in whatever way you see fit because somehow I owe you something. No, no, no. I don’t want your fucking drink!” you were yelling now stamping your feet looking very much like a toddler throwing a tantrum in the middle of a crowded club, and the handsome stranger had the nerve to look pissed off.

“Now gorgeous that-”

“She said no man, why don’t you leave her alone,”a familiar voice sounded from behind you.

“Oh and what are you gonna do about it pipsqueak?,”the man challenged.

Rolling your eyes at the sudden testosterone fueled fight that you can feel is about to happen.

“Nothing, I’m just letting you know that my girlfriend isn’t interested in your drinks. She’s an independent woman capable of buying her own.”

The bartender returns with your drinks, eyeing both Finn and the stranger, the aggression radiating off of the both of them. It had been a year but you could clearly see Finn with his chin up in definance, shoulders squared, strong arms tense, and fists balled. A stare down between the two until the man in the suit swung at Finn, hitting him square in the side of the head.

Finn might be to most men considered small but he was tough, having worked as a mechanic for most of his life. He had way more muscle packed under his suit than it looked like he did.

Finn stumbled backward, hand coming up to the side of his face where the asshole had struck him. Abandoning your drinks in favor of subduing Finn, you launch yourself at him and doing the only thing in the moment that you could think of to do, you press your mouth to his. It only took his brain approximately three seconds for him to go from aggressive to horny.

His arms wrapping around your waist pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, you moan into his mouth giving into the warmth of him. The alcohol you’d consumed making your brain foggy, slowly processing what is happening. You break the kiss without warning hoping that whatever the hell that was, the spark that you had felt would fizzle out.

Forgetting completely about the drinks you make your way back to your table grabbing your bag ignoring the look on Alicia’s face as you then make your way out of the club in a stunned confusion.

“YN?” you heard Finn call out.

You whirl around, nearly stumbling in your half drunken state, “What Finn?”

“Do you-need some help?” he asks, unsure of how he should proceed.

“You know what, why the fuck not.”

You barely remember walking home with Finn in tow but when you woke up in the morning with Finn still in your bed a slow smile spread across your face. There would be worse ways to wake up on a Saturday morning.

#fictober20 #fictober2020 #rami malek #finn x reader #finn #need for speed #fanfiction

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bouwrites · 4 years

Text

Maribat March 2020 Prompt: Soulmate

Week 4, Day 2. This story has been previously posted in response to @theatreandcomicfreak‘s prompt here. I’ve done some minor editing to it, but if you’ve read that already, there’s no significant difference. I’m simply reposting the story in a better format to fit within the guidelines of this Maribat event, so that I can more easily link each story together as a group.

Maribat March 2020 Calendar.

Day 1: Sweetheart’s Dance, Day 3: Coffee Shop.

Ao3.

2133 words. Story under read-more.

Marinette has always been a princess. She likes the nickname. Likes being treated like one. Likes the meaning behind it. She’s not so unusual in that way. After all, how many young girls dream of being princesses? Even she can admit that the number of Disney movies alone Marinette has watched over and over again is a little ridiculous. And since her soulmark appeared, Marinette understandably never quite left behind the princess phase. After all, proudly curving on the back of her neck, almost hidden by her hairline, in clear script, is the word “Princess”. The thing her soulmate will call her. She’s not demanding or spoiled or anything like that, or she tries not to be, but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy feeling like a princess now and then.

She’s comfortable with her soulmark. It’s not the most uncommon thing, and her having a preference for more established nicknames means she knows from a young age that she’s bound to run into some confusion somewhere down the line. The whole, “are they or are they not?” thing that happens when people use nicknames for friends that just happens to align with their soulmark. She knows it’s coming, so she’s comfortable. Prepared.

She gets a little too comfortable, truth be told, but she learns to hold her tongue. Some people can be like Chat Noir, making up nicknames for everyone, their originality driving them through the cloud of the most common terms of endearment on soulmarks. Marinette is creative enough, and she used to do the same thing, but she learns better now. That leaves her in the other pool of people, who try not to use nicknames much at all, to avoid confusion.

Once you say something, there’s no taking it back. One affectionate “Chaton” and her crime-fighting partner thinks she’s the love of his life. But he never calls her “princess”. He never uses her mark-name. It doesn’t even occur to him to. Marinette takes this as proof that he’s not her soulmate after all, but whenever she tells him this, he just thinks up another nickname to call her.

It’s not frightening or even annoying so much as it is simply awkward. With an everyday friend, that may not be such a problem, but with her partner? They aren’t on the same wavelength, all because of a stupid mark-name. That’s dangerous.

Marinette learns to hold her tongue. Sure, a mistake in everyday life may not have such potentially severe consequences, but even so she’d rather avoid insistent men on her case in her civilian life if possible. Chat Noir is no problem, because Marinette trusts and likes him, but he does teach her a lesson on how some people may react to the wrong name. Nicknames, for her, end up reserved for only her closest friends, if that. The change isn’t as hard as she thinks.

Princess. Marinette can’t help the violent flinch that overcomes her at the name, but Chat Noir doesn’t seem to notice. He keeps going on showboating for her. Princess? Really? Is this a joke?

There’s no other explanation. It has to be some grand cosmic joke. The punchline to the greatest show on Earth. Because Marinette knows Chat Noir isn’t her soulmate. She knows he likes to make up nicknames, but never once has he called her “Princess”.

Marinette uncomfortably touches the mark on the back of her neck, disguising it as simply rubbing it awkwardly. The bold lines spelling out that word. Princess. What… Chat Noir calls her?

Marinette doesn’t have time to think about this. She has an akuma to take down, and with it targeting her as a civilian, she has to be at the top of her game. Chat Noir can wait, soulmate or not. At least for now.

It makes sense, to some extent. If Chat Noir has only not called her princess because his soulmate isn’t Ladybug but Marinette. But then what about him? She called him Chaton while and because he is Chat Noir. Marinette would never even think of calling someone that who isn’t moonlighting as a cat. But then, does that prove that they are soulmates? Or does it prove that they aren’t? Surely someone other than her will call him Chaton. It’s not exactly a hard place to reach, once they learn of his alter ego.

Yeah. Marinette thinks. It’s just a coincidence. Calling some damsel “princess” is just like him, anyway. It should be more surprising that he hasn’t until now. Marinette holds her hair up with one hand and a mirror with the other, examining the mark. Right?

“Tikki?” Marinette reaches one hand up into the air, idly grasping at nothing as her mind consumes her.

“What is it, Marinette?”

Marinette worries her lip, unsure if she can or should ask the question on the tip of her tongue. It takes a few stumbling attempts, but she ends up closing her eyes and asking what’s on her mind. “Why would I have a soulmate that I don’t love?”

Tikki is quiet for long enough that Marinette is tempted to sit up and look, but she refrains. She’s not sure she wants to see the expression on Tikki’s face.

“I just-” Marinette tries to explain. “Chat called me it. Princess. And I called him Chaton. That means we’re soulmates, right? But… I do- I don’t… I’m not sure I love him like that. He’s my best friend, of course, but… I just don’t see him as a… soulmate. Am I broken?”

“Oh, Marinette! No, no you’re not broken at all! Don’t you ever think that about yourself.”

“Bu-”

“No! I said, don’t! There’s nothing wrong with you. You don’t even know for sure that he is your soulmate, and even if he is, there’s nothing wrong with having a platonic soulmate! You don’t have to be in love to be soulmates!”

Marinette mulls over Tikki’s words. They echo in her head and roll in her mouth. “But… he loves me.”

“You’re both still so young, Marinette. Give it time! I’m sure things will become clear sooner or later.”

Now, Marinette does sit up. Tikki is smiling earnestly at her, the optimism and confidence in her eyes too infectious for Marinette to resist her own smile. “You really think so?”

“I know so!” Tikki says firmly. “Everything will be okay.”

The school trip is unexpected, in the sense that Marinette all but forgets about it. She knows she has a part in planning it, of course, and she does her part with aplomb, but all of that was set in stone so long ago that with everything else going on, from Hawk Moth to Chat being her maybe-soulmate, it totally slips her mind.

Not to mention how she almost doesn’t go at all. She has a city to protect now, after all. She can’t just go on vacation.

Master Fu solves that problem for her, though, and Marinette finds herself oddly relieved that Kaalki has such a convenient power. Time away from Hawk Moth, even if she is still on call, is just what the doctor ordered. Maybe, without all this outside pressure, she can sit down and figure everything out once and for all.

Plus, it should be fun. A visit to the Daily Planet with Alya in tow alone will make this trip to Metropolis more than worth it. That’s not even starting on all the other events, tours, and activities they have planned. It’s very exciting, and Marinette almost wishes she isn’t so distracted just so she can properly enjoy her classmate’s raving about everything they’re going to do in America.

She’s sure she’s missed some very entertaining discussions. Maybe Alya can catch me up?

“Woah, careful there, princess.”

Marinette freezes at the unexpected touch on her shoulders. She’s a hair away from taking this guy to the ground, but then the situation catches up with her and she barely stops herself.

Pole in the middle of the sidewalk? Threat. Cute guy who has just saved her from slamming face-first into that pole? Probably less so. Also, Princess?!

Marinette examines the guy warily. Black hair, unkempt like he’s just been through a wind tunnel, bright eyes furrowed with concern, muscular arms leading to hands that have still not removed themselves from her shoulders. She shrugs him off, never tearing her eyes from his. She knows how suspicious she must look, and the way he wilts under her stare makes her think she should probably tone it back a bit, but still.

She knows that mistakes happen. She knows Chat might be her soulmate. She knows the likelihood of it being some random passerby in America isn’t exactly in her favor. But he has to be sure. “Princess?” She echoes, more testily than she means.

The guy clears his throat awkwardly. “Ah, I- I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from, I just- I saw you weren’t looking at the pole and I-”

“You what?” Marinette pushes him just for fun, because he’s so flustered, but she can’t help but smile. The bite leaves her voice, replaced with sarcasm. She hopes he can hear that it’s friendly. “Thought you’d save the princess? Eh, superman?” The boy flushes brilliantly, scratching at his neck as he looks to the ground. “I can take care of myself. A little pole isn’t going to hurt me.” She teases. “Thanks, though. You did save me this time.”

The boy chuckles awkwardly. “Ahaha, you’re welcome! Hey, uh, my name’s Jon! I… I’m not sure how to say this, I, uh…”

Now, Marinette knows mistakes happen, but she can also read a situation. The way his cheeks stay color as he bumbles through his introduction, the way he holds his neck a bit too reverent to be sheepish, the way his eyes go wide when she calls him “Superman”.

Jon takes a deep breath, apparently composing himself. “Sorry, I… that was super awkward. Um… You called me superman. That’s, uh…” He ducks down a bit, turning so that she can see the script on the back of his neck. “My mark-name. Also, weird, but, whatever. So, I was wondering if maybe princess was yours?”

Marinette chuckles and pulls her hair aside, turning so he can see her own mark. In the same exact place. Most soul-pairs have their marks in the same place, so that makes this seem more likely. Even still, Marinette has had false alarms before. This seems more legit than any so far, but…

But the way he lights up at the sight of the mark. That stops Marinette’s breath in her lungs. “It is!” Jon cheers. “I can’t believe it! It’s really you!”

Marinette calms her heart and tries to rid her face of the damn soft look she knows she has. “Maybe.” She says. “I’ve had a close call before. This looks legit, though, so… no promises, but maybe we can… I don’t know. Get coffee or something?”

“Yes! Yeah, sure! I’m- I am so down for that!” Jon grins from ear to ear. “Get to know each other, and then decide if we want to trust the mark-names or not?”

“Exactly.” Marinette says. “If you’re okay with that?”

“A hundred percent! I totally understand being cautious. Uh, here! Let me give you my number. You can let me know when you’re free? Unless… you are now?”

Marinette ducks her head to hide from the intensity of his gaze. It’s so… adoring. Not like Chat, not in the depths of love way, or the confident way he claims her as his. It’s in an optimistic way. In a hopeful, nervous way. It makes her chest flutter, and she can’t help but hope, too. “I’m actually in the city on a class trip. We’re having free time right now, so I’ve got, uh,” she checks her phone, “a couple hours.”

“Great! I know a good place to get coffee just around the corner. And, if you want, I could show you around a bit? I know the city pretty well.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

Jon guides her to the coffee shop, awkwardly drifting close but carefully keeping his hands off of her. It’s cute, watching him want to grab her hand or throw his arm over her shoulder, but Marinette appreciates that he doesn’t.

She can’t be sure from one conversation and a couple of mark-names, but Jon seems just as likely as Chat to be her soulmate. Is he? Is Chat? Marinette ducks away from his eyes again, brushing her hair behind her ear as that single glimpse makes her stomach somersault. It’s impossible to tell from this meeting alone, but if the feeling in her chest is telling her anything, it’s saying to give this a chance. Maybe that’s all she really needs.

#MaribatMarch2020 #Maribat #Maribat March #Event #Marijon #ML x DC #ML Fanfiction #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #theatreandcomicfreak im not really sure its appropriate to @ you on this #but its either that or linking to you #and linking feels like #sneaky somehow

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fae-fucker · 3 years

Text

Zenith: Chapter 68-71

Chapter 68

Andi remembers how Kalee gave her a tour of her home and bragged about how she’d be ruling the place someday. Andi asks why her and not her brother.

Oh, Androma. Kalee had laughed then, tossing her head back in that glorious, carefree way that made everyone around her want to come closer. You and I both know that a woman can rule better than any man ever could. And I’ll look twice as good doing it, too.

Shinsay, voices muffled as their heads are stuck up each other’s asses: This is definitely, 100%, one whole, bona fide, authentic, organic, home-grown feminism that we just put in our book.

Also ... take a look at that weak-ass description that’s supposed to show us how good and cool Kalee is. When she laughs (in a way that tbh have you ever laughed? be real with me now), people want to ... come closer?

Wow! That’s like saying ... when I scratch my face, people want to call their mom. When I brush my hair, people may spontaneously feel the need to take a slightly deeper breath.

Talk about low standards. Hey fellas, you ever see someone laugh and just kinda sorta want to approach them but not really? Yeah, that’s the stuff.

Andi thinks about how Kalee would’ve been a better ruler than her dad, who doesn’t even bother coming down to meet his tortured son because that’s how incompetent and evil and heartless he is. I mean, Andi doesn’t know that Valen is the result of rape, but still. Idk if I’m on board with how the book demonizes the hell out of the General but tried to make whatsherface sympathetic. And by “I don’t know if I am” I mean “I’m definitely not what the fuck is wrong with these people.”

Dex tries to make some conversation and Andi says that nobody befriended Kalee, that only super duper special people were CHOSEN by her to become her friends.

I’m ... not sure how this is supposed to be better. In fact, I’d say it’s worse?

“Kalee chose the people she wished to let into her life. I was honored that she allowed me to be assigned to her.”

“Honored?” Dex asked, raising a bruised brow. “Or damned?”

“I’ll let you know after we talk to the general,” Andi said.

I’m gonna fiking piss. “I’ll tell you whether this important life event was honor or damnation, but like, later, after we have this appointment, ok?” Why is this so funny. Have I fully lost my marbles?

Andi foreshadows some escape tunnels that are hidden all around the estate so Dex has a logical way to save them at the end of the book. I’m sure there is a more elegant way of setting that up, but I can’t be bothered to find one, so let’s call it acceptable and move on.

They arrive at their destination and Andi notices that Alfie seems bummed out. She muses that he’s “capable of far more complex thinking than she’d originally guessed,” which, DOY, but ok, and then thinks about how he’s saved her crew and remembered Gilly’s Marketable Space Pet, which implies he has some “understanding of feelings and attachments.”

That hamster wheel do be spinnin’.

The “head Spectre” comes out to meet them and ...

It took everything in her to speak as the truth struck her.

“Dad?”

DUN DUN DUUUN, it’s Andi’s dad! Also, “the truth struck her?” What truth? That it’s your dad? Was that in doubt? Did you really need a moment to connect the dots, to realize this is your dad? Was there a moment where you saw this man, who is your dad, and thought that this wasn’t your dad, only for the truth to strike and OH SHIT THAT’S MY DAD!! WOW HOLD YOUR HORSES EVERYONE I NEED TIME TO PROCESS THAT THIS IS INDEED MY DAD.

Tbh if you strapped knives to a roomba it’d have more charisma and presence as the protagonist than Andi. And let’s be real, more intelligence.

Yet another chapter ends on a pointless cliffhanger only for the scene to continue exactly where it left off!

You’re just full of surprises, Shinsay.

Chapter 69 (nice)

Andi recaps everything that she’s gone through after the Kalee crash up to the fight with the big alien dude who got deus ex machina-d by Alfie and how she nearly kissed Dex, which gets written as extra special, just so she can make this point:

But this...her father, as General Cortas’s head Spectre?

This might actually kill her.

And aside from how generically melodramatic it is, I can’t help but recall this, from chapter 7:

The man in front of her was a victim of her foolishness. Beside her was the man who’d rejected her love.

The two of them, together? It was nearly enough to shatter Andi.

Andi has the same reaction as I do when in a room with multiple men. Except in her case I think it’s supposed to be deep and personal.

Anyway, self-plagiarism aside, Andi thinks about how her dad was always there for her but then one day wasn’t when he didn’t support her on her trial and how conflicted she feels about him, both wanting to demand justice but also wanting comfort. This is actually quite touching and feels very grounded and realistic.

General Cortas rubs it in that Andi’s dad, “Comander Racella”, has been very loyal and hardworking since he was promoted after Andi’s trial. Andi hopes that her father actually hates the general and was forced to work for him as some sort of punishment for what happened with their daughters.

The general says the situation on Adhira has been taken care of, and when Andi asks whether Xen Ptera attacked because of Valen and her crew’s presence on Adhira, the general says that’s classified. For reasons? Idk. Seems pretty obvious to me, or maybe he just doesn’t know?

Dex tries to yap but Cortas flexes his big dick and reminds Dex that he’s a Guardian now, and Dex is too much of a baby to risk his regained status so he shuts up. This is all spelled out for us by Andi’s inner monologue, because we’re idiots.

The general claims the Xen Pteran forces have been wiped out, saying how it’s probably all they had since there’s few able-bodied and willing people to recruit for war after their planet got fucked, and when Andi presses him for why the attack happened now and on Adhira, he says:

“War never really ends, Androma. The desire for revenge is often too strong to forget.”

“War never ends ... But me and my crew totes ended that war just now. They don’t have any more soldiers so this war is over.” Makes sense, sir.

Cortas says that queen Alara is safe and will be at the Peace Summit, which Andi immediately tells him to cancel because it would be the perfect opportunity for another attack. Cortas replies by saying that Arcardius is impenetrable and that the day the Olen System successfully invades will be the day “stars fall from the sky” which is a very poetic and not at all natural way to say something like this, so it’s there for ... idk dramatic irony? He also reminds her that the Summit is important because it celebrates the peace after the war and the unity between the systems and I’m here like ... for a guy who says war never ends, you sure seem happy to celebrate a war ending and don’t believe one is going on right now. But I guess these characters just exist to spout meaningless yet deep-sounding nonsense at each other.

Dex reminds the general that they’ve done their end of the deal, at which point the general conveniently decides to prolong it out of nowhere and essentially forces Andi and Dex to be Valen’s bodyguards at the Peace Summit by holding Andi’s crew and ship and Dex’s money and status hostage. Thanks for ensuring the main characters are there for the climax, sir! Appreciated!

Dex and Andi leave in a huff.

Chapter 70

We’re in Lira’s POV as she reminisces about her childhood with Lon while he’s recovering from his near-death-experience.

So she sat by [Lon’s] side for endless hours, until the warm clutches of sleep stole her away.

She dreams about flying on an “Adhiran darowak” but then DUN DUN DUUUN Adhira below turns into Xen Ptera and it’s horrible!

“No,” Lira gasped. Her heart began to crack. Fissures spread through it, reaching cold fingers through every valve until Lira felt darkness stealing her away.

So the editor just left that in, huh? Just let Shinsay use the exact same wording in less than 200 words? Must’ve been stolen away by the editing fairy for editing crimes while reading this.

Lira is woken up by Alara, who got here so fucking fast she must be part-Sonic on her father’s side. You’d think a planetary leader would have more to do after a sudden and deadly attack on her home planet, but I guess Adhirans are so chill they’ll just let their leader fuck off to take care of her angsty teenage niece instead.

Lira says that she’ll do anything to make up for bringing Valen to Adhira, to which Alara says that the only thing Lira will do is “follow her heart,” which is sweet of her to say but also really convenient and makes this whole decision easier for her.

I mean, it’s nice that Alara is so supportive, but 1) narratively, it removes the conflict that was introduced only a few chapters ago 2) it makes Alara seem like she’s only there to be the supportive cool aunt and the Good Queen, without any expectations or wants of her own. Like, wasn’t the pressure from Alara something that gave Lira actual conflict? Idk. Seems too easy, is what I’m saying.

Lira didn’t let go of her aunt until the tears dried up. Until they sat down on either side of Lon’s bedside, held his hands and spoke of happier times. The beauty of a family that could come together, broken, and still find a way to become something whole.

You’re one step away from “Ohana means family” over here, Shinsay. Stop spelling shit out. WE. GET. IT. Also, whose narration is this? We’ve mostly stuck to third person limited, so ... is Lira thinking this? Is she thinking this shit while it’s happening? About her own family and situation? What the fuck?

Shinsay couldn’t keep their suspiciously sticky fingers out of their own writing and let it breathe so it comes out looking like God’s mistake.

Anyway, Lon wakes up and Alara tells him what went down on Adhira.

Chapter 71

We’re back with Andi, who just got out of a bath and is bitterly admiring her “private quarters” when she’s interrupted by DUN DUN her dad! He’s been waiting for her!

It’s all very tense. Before they can really start talking, though, we get a flashback. No, really. This whole tense reunion between father and daughter is interrupted by a lengthy flashback brought on by Andi watching her dad and Remembering.

Because Shinsay.

It’s a flashback to Andi in a cell, the day before she was supposed to be executed. Her dad tells her that her mother is "not well” and we find out his name is Oren. As they’re saying their tearful goodbyes, Oren slips Andi a key and tells her “Bay Seven. Tomorrow at dawn.”

The flashback ends with Andi’s cell standing empty the next morning.

Very cool and all that.

Back in the now, Andi rightfully chews her dad out for being a cowardly little bitch and throwing his teenage daughter under the bus for the sake of status. Something he freely admits to doing. He says he and her mother had to struggle to rebuild their reputation after she ruined it, and that he believes his daughter died with Kalee and that whoever he saved in the cell was already the Bloody Baroness even if she didn’t know it yet. Then he fucks off.

It’s all extremely silly. It would’ve been heartbreaking in any better book, but instead, it just feels like it’s tacked on for the sake of adding even more angst to Androma’s character. In fact, she’s not even upset at this. Instead she just carves some more tallies into her swords, dances some more with the dead, and then sneaks out.

No really, it’s written like a list.

She waited for the tears to come. But they never did.

Instead she sat alone, adding more tallies to her swords. Dancing with the dead inside her head.

Why is this so funny! I think it’s because both the tally-carving and the ghost-dancing is supposed to be these deep and haunted things she does that’s given a fair amount of weight and focus, but then it’s just written out like this like it’s just some generic routine shit she does like brushing her teeth or wiping her ass.

Yup, there she goes, doing her generic angsty shit one after the other. Emotional whiplash glossed over for the sake of moving the plot along. She’s in such a bad mental state that we simply MUST ignore it and move on.

Also, I want to highlight how convenient it is for Shinsay to already have Andi suspect and previously coming to terms with how her parents don’t love her before this confrontation. Like, we see her father save her tearfully, yet Andi has almost no hope that he still loves her. Or, she does, but when it’s squashed, she just ... accepts it? Because hey, she already processed that trauma years before! Makes it easy!

Wouldn’t it make it more impactful if all these years, she’s hoped that she has a home to come back to? That her father’s final act of saving her meant they love her still and want her to come back? And now she finds out that they never even mourned her loss? Wouldn’t that be heart-wrenching? And also add to the idea that Andi wants to return to Arcardia, both because it’s her home planet but also because that’s where her parents are? Instead we’re led to believe Andi wants to return, but when she does, she hates it here, she knows nobody wants her here, and she wants to leave immediately.

I seriously question the inclusion of this subplot and these characters. It adds nothing, changes nothing, and is just there to make Andi more angsty, which she already is, so ... why is this here lmao?

Shinsay really went “let’s squander all our potentially interesting ideas and concepts for the sake of more cheap angst and making our protag a cool emotionless badass who don’t care for no thing.”

#eff reads: zenith

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mst3kproject · 4 years

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Curse of Bigfoot

This is a very bad mummy movie from the 60’s which was re-edited and re-released as an unbelievably bad bigfoot movie in the 70’s. It would belong on the Satellite of Love even if it didn’t have a small part for Jackie Neyman Jones. Remember her? Debbie from Manos: the Hands of Fate? Yeah, as far as I know she’s the only member of the cast ever to do any non-Manos-related film work for the entire rest of her life and it was this.

Once upon a time, somewhere in the American Southwest, Primitive Man was terrorized by Even More Primitive Man. In modern times, a Bigfootology professor is giving a guest lecture to a class of students. First he shows them a clip of a movie just as bad as the one we’re watching, then we get an inaccurate history of bigfoot, including the tale of two idiots in a pickup truck who get a big, hairy ass-whooping. Then, half an hour into the movie, we finally get to what’s supposed to be the main plot. A professor of archaeology takes some of his students into the wilderness to help excavate an ‘ancient Indian campsite’, but along with the expected potsherds and prayer sticks, they find a tomb containing a mummy from a lost prehistoric civilization. It comes to life and shambles off into the forest to kill people, because it’s a movie and mummies do that.

This movie does not waste time. It starts sucking right out of the gate. Almost everything that’s going to be wrong with it is introduced in the first ten minutes, as if the movie wants to prepare us for the ordeal ahead.

The opening sequence is an incredibly drawn-out scene of a woman getting up in the middle of the night to calm her barking dog, only to be killed by a zombie that wanders out of the woods. This scene is around six times longer than it needed to be. We almost have to watch every moment of the dog drinking a bowl of milk she pours for it. The woman’s voice was dubbed in post, and neither the voice nor the physical acting is any good. The sequence is supposed to take place in the middle of the night, but was clearly filmed at high noon, reaching Attack of the The Eye Creatures levels of not giving a shit in having the sun appear in several shots, standing in for the moon! The actual attack happens off screen, because the film-makers could not afford effects.

Then this part ends, and we realize that what we just saw was supposed to be a clip from a horror film that the professor was showing his students. This provides a fleeting moment of hope, as we think perhaps its overwhelming badness was intended as parody. No such luck. We then move into the two loggers getting stalked and killed by bigfoot. The monster costume is different, but this piece is identical in anti-quality to the zombie scene. The film-makers were just morons, and these mistakes continue throughout the entire ninety-minute run time.

It’s actually astonishing that the movie is so consistent in its incompetence, because we are in fact watching two different films here. Curse of Bigfoot has a backstory similar to that of They Saved Hitler’s Brain, in that somebody in the fifties made a short movie and somebody else, years later, added useless filler to expand it into something they could show in a late-night TV slot. They Saved Hitler’s Brain feels very bifurcated, the new material being both narratively and stylistically different from Madmen of Mandoras. But if you didn’t know that Curse of Bigfoot was twenty minutes of extra film sewn onto a 1963 movie called Teenagers Battle the Thing, you might not immediately notice.

If you’ve been following this blog for a while you’ll probably remember that I thought Madmen of Mandoras was a significantly better movie than They Saved Hitler’s Brain (even if it still was definitely not a good movie) – the added footage was distracting and pointless. These two films, however, I would say are about equally awful. The footage added to Curse of Bigfoot is still pointless, but it looks exactly like what was originally shot for Teenagers Battle the Thing, the only noticeable difference being a slight change in the film stock! Both are depressingly earth-toned movies in which it takes for-fucking-ever for anything to happen, with night scenes shot in the blazing daylight, and lines dubbed in by bad voice actors over bad physical performances. Both feature shitty monster suits and every possible cost-cutting measure.

This leads me to wonder whether Curse of Bigfoot might be terrible on purpose. The people tasked with turning Teenagers Battle the Thing into a full-length movie got a couple of the actors back to play their older selves in the added footage. Making stuff match was clearly on their minds. Could they have actually thought things like, “we’d better use the wrong filter for this, or it won’t be as bad as the day-for-night in the original footage!” or “we need to pad this attack a bit, to match the pace!”? If so… I don’t know whether to be impressed, or just to crawl under the bed and cry.

On the other hand, Curse of Bigfoot does at least try to do one thing better than Teenagers Battle the Thing – it wants to have something to say. It spells this thesis out for us in the opening narration and in the professor’s speech about horror movies: our society has forgotten about monsters.

We in the twenty-first century don’t spent much time thinking about monsters unless we happen to be film-makers, political commentators, or maybe paleontologists trying to figure out what the fuck this bugger is. It wasn’t so long ago, however, that they were very real to many people. Archaeological evidence suggests that people in New England believed in vampires as recently as the 1820s. Nowadays, monsters have been taking out of the ‘scary’ category and placed in the ‘fun’ one, and so when people report things like bigfoot or a sea serpent, we don’t take them very seriously.

Bigfoot, sea monsters, and vampires don’t really exist, obviously, but in losing our fear of monsters we may have lost a proper respect for nature. Every so often the newspapers in my city carry a story of some tourist who tried to get a better selfie with a grizzly bear and got mauled. We are so used to thinking that we have tamed nature, that there are no monsters left, that we don’t recognize danger when we’re confronted with it. This certainly seems to be a theme of the stories we’re presented with in Curse of Bigfoot: it never occurs to the woman in the opening that her barking dog may be trying to warn her of danger, or to the two loggers that the mysterious figure in the woods might mean them harm.

The party of archaeology students certainly don’t think they’re heading into any danger, despite the fact that they repeatedly do dangerous things. A group of them climb to the top of a cliff to see where a fallen stone came from, and never worry about falling. When they pry open the tomb entrance, the strange smoke that wafts out might be considered a warning sign, but they ignore it. They head right into this dark hole without any worries about rodents, rattlesnakes, or cave collapses. When one character warns the others that the mummy has just moved, they laugh it off. A couple go for a walk through the dark woods at night to get to a vending machine, without a second thought.

Lest you think I’m in any way praising this movie, I’m not – I just like my reviews to be at least a certain length, so sometimes I really dig for material. This was a dig on the level of saying The Incredible Melting Man is about how we treat the elderly. My high school English teacher might buy it, but I doubt anyone else would.

One thing I do wonder is why they chose to reframe this as a bigfoot movie. The footage from Teenagers Battle the Thing makes it very clear that this is a mummy movie, although they couldn’t afford any of the genre’s traditional accessories. Instead of a museum and a treasure, we get one cabin in the woods and… that’s all. When the characters talk about the situation, they always describe the monster as a mummy, and even when they theorize that it’s the product of a lost civilization, the idea that it may not be human never crosses their minds. It is not particularly tall. It is not remarkably hairy. It looks nothing like the bigfoot the two loggers saw, although it does somewhat resemble the zombie from the opening. Why the man telling the story decided this being must be bigfoot is an absolute mystery.

The only thing I can come up with as an explanation is that bigfoot movies were popular in the 1970s. Having seen a number of these, I can’t say I find them particularly inspiring.

Curse of Bigfoot is almost incomprehensibly boring, to the point where I’m not sure MST3K could have done much with it if they had featured it. In the opening sequence it takes forever for the woman to be attacked and then we don’t see it. In the logger sequence it takes forever for the guy to be attacked and then we don’t see it. And in the main plot it takes forever for anyone to be attacked and then we don’t see it! The only attack we see is when the mummy attacks the sheriff at the climax and that really, really wasn’t worth the wait.

Congratulations, Jackie Neyman Jones – you managed to be in a movie worse than Manos.

#mst3k #reviews #episodes that never were #curse of bigfoot #teenagers battle the thing #fuck this movie #all these movies have bigfoot in them #70s #we're running out of plots #cryptid cinema

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missmaxime · 4 years

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17! 18! 30! 32! 38! <3 <3 <3

Thank you for these! 🥰 17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you’ve just posted and wait for feedback? I don’t. Well, not immediately. I try to distract myself for at least half an hour to an hour after posting because by the time I post I’ve already gone mental from finaFinalreRerereadFiNaldefDEFDEF.def x34 and I need to calm down. But after that I compulsively refresh AO3 (for the Beth/Rio tag) and depending on the time of day I start replying to comments or wait for it until morning. I don’t re-read my own fic until at least the day after (and inevitably fix some v obvs spelling mistakes I got blind for during edits). 18. Do you have a WIP that you keep telling yourself you’ll eventually get back to, but deep down you know that’s probably a lie? A little while ago I would have maybe said Wild at Heart, but I recently started editing the new chapter and now I’m feeling that story again (I got a bit lost with it over season 3, and it’s a long fic I’m not really used to writing – I had no oversight in my notes and outline and ugh). I think when I do publish it might have a bit of a different tone, especially because I think I progressed a lot over the past six months as a writer. But I have by now accepted that I will never re-write those earlier chapters, so I’m just going to move on and continue the story. BTW. If someone can recommend a/their Word Processor to get a better oversight in longer WIPs, please do! There’s no published WIP I won’t get back to from what I see now. I have a few in my WIP-folder that are a lost cause, main reasons are either because I either forgot I wrote it to begin with, or because I don’t like my style or plot anymore. 30. Post a snippet from you’re a current WIP without context - no more than 300 words. From a WIP I definitely won’t abandon, but one that’s also taking me crazy long to write (because world-building):

Annie swallows everything down, but keeps the bowl of candies protectively close to her chest. “I can’t believe they reached out to you twenty years later,” she says, plopping down next to Beth. “I can’t believe they subpoenaed me.” Annie sits up. “Technically they summoned you—” Beth gives her a look that immediately shuts her up. “You know, it’s good they did. They probably got a notification that you got rid of your Dean-shaped baggage and thought: Presto Matcho, and let’s go!” “Maybe I don’t want to be matched up.” “Relax, sis. Just go out on a date, get those cobwebs cleaned out if he’s a seven or up, and move on with your life!” “Annie!” “You’re right, maybe don’t be that picky, make it a six.” Beth’s all fired up to blow a gasket when a man with a bird tattoo sprawled on his neck enters the waiting room, accompanied by a dark-haired woman in a suit. They’re in a heated discussion, going through a pile of papers that’s full of marked segments and bookmarks. Beth’s getting a bit lost in thought, looking at him when she feels Annie leaning her head on her shoulder. “I served him too,” she whispers in Beth’s ear, pulling her back into reality again. “You!” she hears the guy say, pointing at Annie, who immediately throws her hands up in defense, totally forgetting she was holding the candy bowl which immediately tumbles onto the ground, scattering its contents over the floor. “Hey, I’m just here for my sister, don’t come at me bro!” she tries to laugh it nervously away. He doesn’t think it’s funny. But his gaze lingers on Beth a longer time than might be appropriate before turning his attention back to the woman beside him. 32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from? I can have different favorites varying on the week / day. It usually changes when I post a new fic. Sometimes I’m not even super in love with a line when I post it, but it grows on me when I re-read later. So just three random ones: Regardless of his repeat observation of ‘you’re so tight, baby’, she’s definitely not going to indulge him with the Snoozefest Saga of her sex life of the past decade. – from Stuck in the Middle It’s a decision he almost immediately regrets. Apparently, Elizabeth is very convinced of her (faulty) navigation skills. And mind you, he has an essentially AI-worthy navigation system build into his (“Is this what you drive? Don’t you think it’s a little… out there? Like, surely you don’t really need something so preposterous to arrive in?” she had laughed cutely after that, but he felt slapped in the face – and not the kind he might be paying her for) G-wagon. – from The Girlfriend Experience “Yeah,” he smiles. “We real good friends too, aren’t we?” he says suggestively. (It’s just, he can’t help it, knows it’s dumb and petty but ugh. He’s suffered through Mick’s eye-rolls enough after returning from a No Elizabeth Murder Night again. The other guy casually looking up from polishing his custom ninja throwing stars - don’t start about it, it’s a whole thing, and Rio’s convinced the man can’t even get them into a wall a three feet away if he wears that one jacket - waiting for Rio to cock his head and ask: “What?” “Nothing,” he had replied, dipping a cloth into the jar of polish. “’Nothing’?” Rio had repeated – a little more petulant than he intended. “What are you, my wife?” Ever so slowly, the corners of Mick’s mouth had turned upwards. “Heard spot’s taken.” Rio may have keyed Mick’s car that night.) Beth smiles back stiffly. - from I See Your True Technicolors I don’t know, I really like doing these kinda scene-in-scene (or sentence) things, I don’t know if this has a name. 38. What does your writing process look like? How chaotic is it on a scale of 1 (very tame) to 10 (you can’t handle this kind of chaos)? Hmm that kind of depends what part of the process we’re talking about. Let’s roughly break that up in three parts: 1. Working out the idea (8/10): Really, really chaotic. This is just days or weeks of just flashes of ideas and plotpoints and lines of dialogue shooting through my brain. Haphazardly writing those down in various docs, on paper in between my work notes, or in the notes on my phone. When I finally know the rough outline of the story I go into; 2. Writing the fic (4/10): I’m a super chronological writer, I really move from scene A to B to C until I finally arrive at Z. But when I start writing I often only really know A, D, E, J, O, Q, Z – the rest will just grow or appear organically as I write. Sometimes it does mean I won’t write for a few days because I circle back to step 1 for a certain scene. A good example is the Artic Hunter Fairytale Beth tells Jane in Chapter 2 of I See Your True Technicolors. I knew up front I was going to write a scene where we would see how this seemingly unweighted moment for Beth – she’s just telling a nighttime story – had a massive impact on Jane. There were some themes and motives I felt like needed to make an appearance: the more tangible reason of Jane’s quest, how young kids often hold their parents’ word as truth, and I needed it to be a true heartfelt moment between Beth and Jane. But before I wrote the first line of that scene I had no idea that would be the scene that it became. So I do outline a bit, but I need to create enough room for myself for moments like that to happen. It’s one of the things I enjoy most about writing. It’s a bit of an organized mess within a tighter frame/outline. 3. Editing (7/10): I’ve really been perfecting my Editing skills over the past 6/7 months – it’s not perfect, but you live and you learn. I spend more time working on the fic after I ‘finished’ it, really ramped up the spelling and grammar checks (I love you Word editor, but I also hate you), and take more and more care to make sure that all my dialogue feels IC ánd distinctive enough per character (especially the latter I feel like lacks in earlier WAH chapters). So, work in progress, but I feel pretty confident in this one. Again, thanks for sending these! <3

#asks #writer asks #fanfiction #my fanfic

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beinscorpio · 5 years

Text

Hope

summary: Grayson needs help to save his brother and he’s stopping at nothing luckily someone is willing to help him.

A\N: I didn’t really edit this so please ignore the mistakes, and I hope you like my shitty writing :)

@atlas-of-a-human-soul : I finally finished something 😂

In this world witches and werewolves didn’t always exist peacefully together, but that seemed to be the only way to stay alive after the war against the supernatural that just ended, of course, the decrease in their numbers made it a lot easier for everyone too, if you ask me that could’ve been avoided I mean it’s not like the mind readers didn’t warn anyone. why haven’t I mentioned them at the beginning you ask? well, it’s because there is now only one mind reader left and her father is set about hiding her after everyone discovered that her mother is a witch and that makes her more powerful than any witch and mind reader, difficult to find too but Grayson Dolan is stopping at nothing until he finds her, otherwise he wouldn’t be standing in front of her dad’s house being so sure that if he went to his house and asked about his daughter again he would be dead.

He was trying so hard to control his emotions on the way to the library, curtain that if anyone spoke a word to him, he would start crying, and even though he was really doubting it, he was hoping it would be the last time he would have to go there, he entered the library and went straight to the advanced and dark magic books to find a spell that helps him locate the girl, because after trying his hardest to wake his brother and failing every single time, he doesn’t think he can take another fail so this girl is his last chance if he could only find her.

“ Any luck? “someone spoke behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was, ever since the accident, he knew this voice very well. After Grayson started going there a lot and doing some intense search for anything that can help him, the girl who works as the librarian was about to make fun of him for being in the library too often, maybe hint that he’s the one who’s keeping her from leaving early until she saw him cry, she was glad she approached him that day because they became friend since then and he for sure needed one, but he regretted telling her his middle name because from that day on she refused to call him anything but Bailey, he liked that she is the only one who calls him that though he won't admit it.

“ you would be seeing him next to me if I had any “ he answered her still reading the book in his hand, but he knew that she raised her eyebrows without even looking at her.

“ Wow, someone is in a bad mood, “ she told him, crossing her arms, then he finally closed the book in his hand and faced her.

“ why can’t I just ugh “ he screamed, covering his face for a bit “ I can’t undo simple mirroring spell, my brother is frozen because I froze some idiot trying to keep us safe and now he’s basically dead unless I find this girl “

In any other circumstances, she would be waiting for an apology, but at that moment she realized just how hopeless and helpless he was after assuming that he would find a way to free Ethan given the proper motivation, she still felt nervous about the news she wanted to give Grayson and he saw that, so she got an apology from him which she was very happy about. She then looked around her to make sure that no one was watching or listing, then said “ come with me I think I found something“

They walked together to a small room at the end of the library, Grayson has been to the library many times before, but he never went inside that room, he always assumed it was locked for some reason. The room was full of empty bookshelves and boxes that were filled with books that were on these shelves before.

“ why is everything in boxes? “ asked Grayson but he never got an answer from her because she was busy looking for something in these boxes, she took out a book from the third box she looked in, a very small and old book.

“ we’re relocating, and I found this while I was packing the books in this room, “ she explained “ look at the spell written in the very last page “

He opened the book to the last page and in it was a spell that he didn’t know existed in the first place, he might have to tweak it a little bit, but that spell will allow him to get into people’s head and communicate with them, and he knew just the person to talk to.

“ do you “ he paused, still staring at the book in his hand, it looked like he was having a million thoughts at the same time, but for the first time, some of them were good “ do you think it’ll work? “

“ You never know until you try it, but good luck, I heard she’s worse than her father, “ she told him with a smile. She knew from his facial expression and the sudden change in voice tone just how nervous he was, so she didn’t want him to leave while he was in that state, but she knew how important this is for him, so she let him leave then started to pack the first shelve outside of that room.

Grayson lived by himself for a while now and to say he hated it would be a huge understatement, but sitting in his room with the book in his hand, ready to cast the spell he never felt more alone and it suddenly hit him that this is his last chance, so he became anxious but he had to relax and focus for his brother. He took a breath, opened to book to the last page, closed his eyes, and cast the spell. He didn’t open his eyes even after finishing the spell, and he had no idea if it worked or if anything happened.

Then he heard “ What the fuck are you doing inside my head “ which not only did make Grayson open his eyes, but his eyes widened, it worked, it freaking worked he thought, then he started to feel the spell getting weaker and weaker and realized he still hasn’t said anything to her yet.

“ Wait ! “ the spell came back to its full strength, but she still hasn’t said anything, so he took the opportunity to explain “ I need your help “

“ I’ll need a super blue blood moon to do that “ that sentence from her caught him off guard ,now he heard about her being the last mind reader and a witch, he heard about her power as well, but he never thought it’s to that extent, her knowing exactly what he wanted that quick without him being in the same room as her just blew his mind, that quickly went away when he registered what she just told him.

“ you’re joking, right? that won’t happen for years “, and he was about to argue more but what she said later made him stop.

“ consider it a piece of information from a trusted source, but it’s going to happen next week,“ he was relieved to hear that then it accrued to him that she for sure won’t do this for free she must want something in return.

“ so you’ll help me? Surely you must want something in return“

“ only that no one knows about this, and you probably know this by now, but if you tell anyone I will know “ she was right, he knew it before he even started to talk to her actually maybe when he met her dad for the first time or when he heard about her for the first time. He never knew why he thought she was in her father’s mercy because talking to her changed the image of the girl who knows nothing about the world and is struggling with her overprotective dad that he had of her. She must’ve been in the middle of something because the next thing she said to him was.

“ I have to go do something, just return the book, don’t tell anyone, and by next week your brother will be ok" then the spell broke. It scares him every time she does read his mind and acts like it's normal and she didn't do anything he'll never get used to it.

That week leading up to him finally getting his brother back was the longest week of Grayson’s life, but he was excited and all he was thinking about what will he say to Ethan, how it’ll be to finally have his twin brother back, and all the things they will do together. On the day that the moon was supposed to turn red, he was acting like a kid waiting for his charismas present, but in his case, he was waiting for his brother by the window staring at the moon instead of waiting for a gift by the charismas tree.

Moments later and the moon started changing color, and it slowly started to become red, he stopped looking at the moon and was now staring at Ethan’s door, any moment now he thought to himself and shortly Ethan came out of the room, alive and breathing Grayson couldn't believe it he had to blink more than once to make sure that he wasn’t seeing things.

“ Hey, what happened? “ Ethan asked, Grayson never realized he missed Ethan’s voice this much, and he couldn’t hold it any longer, so he ran to hug Ethan with eyes full of tears, it took the brothers a while to collect themselves Grayson had to explain everything that happened to Ethan next, and how an attempt to save them both resulted in Ethan being frozen for a while, but that’s in the past now, Grayson was sure that day thanks to seeing Ethan again and hearing his voice again was the happiest day of his life, then he heard something that not only surprised him but shook him to the core.

“ You’re welcome Bailey “

#dolan twins #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan #Ethan and Grayson

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alonely-dreamer · 5 years

Text

Dangerous Creatures | Chapter 19: Dying to Survive

Summary: Mackenzie Alemaund is an unlucky 18 year old teenager whose life changes drastically after she gets kidnapped by two vampires and learns, in the same day, that she is not human.

Pairing: Elijah x OC

Words: 2643

A/N: Please, note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there, besides I couldn’t have it edited! I hope you’ll like it!

Masterlist

New Series: The Valuable Sun

“How could things possibly get worse?”

Mackenzie scoffed as she remembered what she had told Elena a few nights ago. She wanted to kick herself, as if she had summoned it, as if everything that had happened ever since was her fault.

Klaus told Tyler to bite Caroline and she almost died on her birthday.

Stefan kidnapped Elena and threatened to kill her if Klaus didn’t send his hybrids away.

Jeremy left.

There was a non-vampire murderer in Mystic Falls killing council members.

Things got worse. Things got way worse.

And they weren’t getting any better as the days went by. Mackenzie couldn’t leave the house, she was almost certain every vampire/hybrid in town could smell her, including Damon, who hadn’t been subtle about it.

“Why do you smell like cotton candy in an attraction park on a sunny day?”

Now she had no idea what to say to that, and she wasn’t about to tell him the truth.

“Um, Damon? What are you doing?” Elena asked, thinking he was flirting.

“Seriously,” he insisted, “why do you smell so good? I want to eat you for dessert.”

“Damon!” Elena scolded him.

“Relax, I won’t do it. But not every vampire in town has my self-control,” he told her was a warning.

Mackenzie nodded. He didn’t need to tell her not to leave the house, she wasn’t planning to.

“What is he talking about?” the doppelganger asked after he’d gone.

“I have no idea,” she lied. “Are you leaving now?”

“Yeah, Bonnie’s ready to go.”

“Have a nice trip then.”

“Thanks. I’ll text you once we get there.”

‘There’ being Bonnie’s estranged mother, whom Bonnie wasn’t too excited about seeing again, but whom she needed to perform a spell that would unlock Klaus’ mysterious coffin. Out of the four that Stefan had taken, one of them was closed, locked by a powerful spell that Bonnie had been trying to break for days, but to no avail. Damon and Stefan were hoping it contained a weapon powerful enough to kill Klaus.

Mackenzie had asked so many times for Stefan to undagger Elijah, but he always refused. She’d have gone and done it herself if she weren’t scared to death of stepping foot in that horror house again.

Night fell on Mystic Falls and Mackenzie still hadn’t heard from Elena or Bonnie or anyone, for that matter. She told herself she wouldn’t start worrying until midnight. Around 10, the front door opened, and Mackenzie was surprised to see Alaric walk in, and he wasn’t alone.

“Hey, Mackenzie.”

“Hi, Ric.”

“Um, this is Meredith.”

“I’m Doctor Meredith Fell, nice to meet you,” she smiled at the elemental as she held out a hand.

Mackenzie took it as she smiled back. “Nice to meet you too. I’ll… leave you to it…” she said before walking up the stairs and into her room.

About two minutes later, Mackenzie heard the front door open and close. Elena was home. She was relieved that she was safe and thought she had had a long enough day already and decided to hold off on the questions. She changed into her nightwear, a pair of silk blue shorts that belonged to Elena and an oversized shirt that Jeremy had given her on her first night in this house.

As per usual, the next morning, Alaric was hangover, looking for aspirins in Elena’s kitchen and Elena had just come back from her early morning run. The doppelganger had once asked her if she wanted to join her, but she had to politely refuse, telling her she didn’t like running, which wasn’t exactly a lie, but wasn’t the full truth either. If she went out, she’d probably get attacked by a vampire, and if she were with someone else, she’d condemn that person too. She couldn’t take the risk.

Elena had told her all that had happened on the previous night, including Klaus getting three of his coffins back, including Elijah, and Bonnie’s mom being unable to practice magic.

“I thought she was supposed to help Bonnie do a spell?”

“Yeah, well… it’s gonna take a while,” Elena sighed. “Anyway, I gotta go.”

“Where are you going?”

“I need to ask Stefan if he’s the one who’s been killing all of these people, lately.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“You know, I’ve come to learn that there are very few things Stefan wouldn’t do. See you later.”

And here she was. Alone once again. Or so she thought. About two minutes after Elena had left, someone came knocking on the door. Mackenzie was worried and scared to open. She didn’t expect anyone, and it could be a vampire attracted by her scent. In fact, she knew it was a vampire, she could feel it. But she wasn’t sure who it was. It wasn’t Stefan, it wasn’t Damon. It wasn’t a regular vampire, but it wasn’t a hybrid either. And it wasn’t Klaus. Maybe it was Rebekah, or maybe…

“Oh my God,” she gasped when she opened the door. She couldn’t believe it. She had to be dreaming. This couldn’t be real.

“Ms. Alemaund,” Elijah grinned.

She shook her head, confused and confounded. She brought a hand to his chest, where a dagger had been when she last saw him. She had done it so fast she hadn’t realized how hard she’d hit him, and it almost took his breath away. When she touched him, when she realized he was real, that he was there, she quickly threw her arms around his neck.

“You’re back,” she whispered.

Elijah chuckled. “You’ve grown strong.”

Mackenzie let him go when she realized how tight she was hugging him.

“How are you… what are you… when…”

“Damon Salvatore,” he cut her off, “removed the dagger from my chest before giving me back to my brother.”

Damon Salvatore, out of all people, had freed Elijah. Something she had been wanting to do for six months.

“I hadn’t realized you were still…” he paused, “alive, until I smelled you a few minutes ago. I was convinced my brother had…”

“No,” Mackenzie didn’t let him finish, “no, he… he let me go. He said… he said you’d be mad he daggered you and he didn’t want to make it worse by killing me.”

“That never stopped him before,” he mumbled. “I am… I’m happy to see you are unharmed.”

Mackenzie smiled. She felt liberated, somehow, like the weight that she carried on her shoulder had disappeared now that he was back. She couldn’t help it and hugged him again.

“I missed you so much,” she said, and he could almost hear the tears burning her eyes. He hugged her back, a little taken aback. It had been decades, centuries even, since someone had cared for him that much. It pained him to know he had caused her so much trouble.

“I’m sorry for putting you in danger, Mackenzie,” he said as he let go of her. “I should’ve known better.”

She frowned, not sure about what he was saying. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “Do you… do you want to come in?”

He nodded. “Is Ms. Gilbert here?”

“No, she just left. We’re alone,” she answered before she closed the door.

“I’m surprised to find you here.”

“Yeah, well… I live here now.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Since when?”

“Almost a month.”

“Where were you before that?”

“Um…” she chuckled. “With a friend.”

He gave her another confused look.

“It’s a long story,” she said. “How long have you been back?”

“Since last night. I met with Damon earlier today.”

“Let me guess. He wants your help to kill Klaus.”

“Indeed. He told me about his last attempt, how his brother came in the possession of my family.”

“Stefan’s mad at Klaus for compelling his humanity away. And… everything else.”

“Understandable.”

“So… are you going to help him?”

“Well. I have agreed to a meeting. A dinner, tonight, with my brother and his. Niklaus is under the impression that they want to make a truce.”

“You’re uh…” she cleared her throat. “What about you and Klaus?”

“My brother tried to trick me again, by telling me more lies. Trying to convince me to work with him to destroy Stefan. He thinks I’m on his side.”

“Do you… do you know that he…” she paused, no sure how to say it.

“That he killed my mother? Yes, he told me. It didn’t help his cause, but I suppose he knew I’d hear about it soon enough.”

“So, you do have a plan.”

“I’m working on one,” he nodded.

“Well… just… don’t get yourself killed again,” she laughed uncomfortably.

“I won’t. I won’t make the same mistake again,” he said, as he cupped her cheek with his hand.

She put her hand over his before she buried her face in his chest, sliding her hands behind his back. He smelled like him. He smelled like home. He rested his chin on the top of her head, hugging her back.

“I didn’t know what to do without you,” she confessed. “I tried to get you back.”

“You did?”

She didn’t want to tell him. She was still convinced that going after Klaus was the stupidest thing she had ever done.

“How’s Rebekah?” she asked, changing the subject.

He released her from his embrace and looked down at her with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve met my sister?”

“Yes. Elena said Klaus had her. He didn’t remove the dagger?”

“No. My sister is still in her coffin.”

“Can’t you help her? Can’t you help your siblings?”

He smirked. “That’s the plan.”

Mackenzie smiled back. Finally, a plan she could get behind. She was about to ask for more details when her phone rang.

“I’m sorry.”

“Please,” he shook his head, “answer it.”

She took her phone out of her pocket and read Elena’s text messages.

“Oh my God,” she breathed out.

“What’s wrong?”

“Caroline’s father was murdered. He’s in transition. He won’t complete it.”

“Murdered?” he frowned. “By whom?”

She shook her head. “Someone’s been killing council members lately… I… I have to go,” she said. She wanted to be there for Caroline, but then remembered she couldn’t leave the house.

“Allow me,” he told her, as if he had read her mind, before he bit his wrist.

It felt weird to acknowledge it, but she had missed it. Being in his arms while he fed her his blood, how he held her, how he put his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent until he couldn’t smell it anymore. She leaned back against his chest and enjoyed being close to him again.

“Thank you,” she said before she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I wish I could stay but…”

“Go to your friend,” he gave her a small smile. “I will be back tonight.”

She hesitated, but eventually smiled back, tiptoed and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight,” she said, as a way to confirm it.

As a promise.

***

Mackenzie knew exactly how Caroline felt. Waiting around for someone to die, a parent to die, was agony. Not being able to be there with them, not being strong enough because it hurt too much, but feeling guilty for not spending their last moment with them. That’s how she felt as she was sitting on her porch in the dark night with Elena and Mackenzie.

“Did you hear back from Tyler yet?” Elena asked.

“No. And I’ve left messages for him everywhere…” she shook her head, confused and angry about her boyfriend not being there when she needed it the most. “So does Alaric really thing that Dr. Fell did it?”

“He doesn’t know what to think.”

“What about you?”

Elena scoffed. “I wish the girl Alaric liked wasn’t in the middle of all of this… He deserves to be happy… But yeah… she looks guilty. That’s why I told your mom.”

Caroline nodded slowly, taking in the information, wondering what she would do about it.

“My mom’s in there sitting with my dad…” she paused, then chuckled humorlessly, “I don’t think they’ve been in the same room this long since I was 10 years old.”

A long silence settled between them, during which neither Elena nor Mackenzie dared say anything.

“I can’t just let my father die…” Caroline eventually said, “I’m gonna force him to feed.”

“You don’t mean that,” Mackenzie said softly.

“He doesn’t want to, Caroline,” Elena told her. “The only thing your dad has left is his choice.”

The vampire wiped the tears off her cheeks. She knew that. She knew it would be wrong to take that choice away from her father. But she couldn’t help but try to find a way to save him.

Matt arrived a few minutes later and joined them on the porch. They sat in silence for about an hour. Caroline didn’t need to talk, and she didn’t need people to talk to her. Silence was fine, silence was perfect. Actions speak louder than words, and her friends being there for her in one of the most difficult moment of her life meant everything to her.

Eventually, it was time for Caroline to be with her father, and Matt drove Elena and Mackenzie back to the house. They carried with them their friend’s grief, and they all wished there was something more they could have done.

Mackenzie hadn’t told anyone about Elijah, she didn’t even know if Damon had told Elena. But she figured now wasn’t the right time to bring it up.

When they stepped inside the house, it was dark and quiet. Elena tried to turn the lights on but was unsuccessful.

“That’s weird,” she said.

“Electricity must be out,” Matt guessed as he followed the girls inside.

Elena sighed. She went to the kitchen to get flashlights and gave one to each of them.

“I think I have some candles over there,” she said as she made her way around the counter. “Oh my God,” she gasped as she almost stepped into a pool of blood.

“What the hell?” Matt breathed out.

Mackenzie thought she was about to be sick. There was so much blood, there was no way whoever’s blood that was had survived.

They looked around and noticed a bloody handprint on the wall. They armed themselves with a kitchen knife before they followed the blood trail. It led them upstairs, where they found Alaric sitting against the wall, unconscious, with a knife in his stomach.

“Ric!” Elena breathed out as she kneeled next to him, dropping the knife, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

“He’s alive,” Mackenzie said as she positioned herself on Alaric’s other side.

“Ah!” he groaned as he tried to remove the knife from his body.

“Leave it in,” Elena instructed him.

“He’s lost too much blood,” Matt told them. “I’m gonna call 911.”

“Ric, look at me. Who did this to you?” Elena asked.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

“Oh my God, there’s a lot of blood,” Mackenzie said with a lump in her throat, tears forming in her eyes.

“I know, I know,” he said, trying to call for an ambulance.

“You have to kill me,” Alaric said, to both Mackenzie and Elena.

“What?”

“You have to kill me,” he repeated.

Elena shook her head but then noticed the ring on his finger.

“Wait, wait, Matt, hang up. He’s right. If he dies a supernatural death, then he’ll come back to life and be healed.”

“But how do you know who did this is supernatural?” he asked.

“That’s what he’s saying, we don’t, but… Mackenzie’s a witch. I’m a doppelganger. If we kill him, he’ll come back.”

“Are you insane?!” Mackenzie shook her head.

“I’ll do it,” Elena said. “I’ll do it.”

She took a deep breath, and Mackenzie looked away as Elena stabbed her history professor to death.

**********

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 20 is already available for early access on my Patreon page! Chapter 21 to 22 are available for instant access! If you’d like to support me here’s my page: patreon.com/alonelydreamer any support is highly appreciated!!

If you can’t, it’s okay! Chapter 20 will be posted on Tumblr next Wednesday!

Have a good week!

Tags: @thepoet1975 @nerdysandwichqueen @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @raegan-hale @captainam-erika-trash @silver424 @monetfatalia @vaniileiinkeks @valeria-winchester @favimag @colie87 @hamiltonmadesomemistakes @s0nh4dorasblog @poemfreak306 @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @thegingerthatwaited @therealwatermelon @dark-night-sky-99@aubri1313 @jardinsecos @gymnastgal1997-blog @thearaviagrace77blog @caelst13

#the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvd #the originals #elijah mikaelson #elijah x oc #fanfiction #fanfic #oc #elena gilbert #alaric saltzman #caroline forbes #imagine #reader #elijah x reader #elijah imagine #dangerous creatures #lily collins

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scrollofstarshine · 4 years

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The Thing About Insomnia

Word Count: 1051

Characters: Thomas Sanders (Character), Virgil (Either platonic or romantic whatever floats your canoe ^~^)

Summary: Virgil and insomnia are well antiquated no matter how much Virgil would love to just freaking sleep. However, things are a little different than usual now that he’s been accepted.

The worst thing about insomnia was probably the fact that literally the only thing he wanted to do was sleep. It wasn’t exactly what Virgil would call a fun experience; his vision went sporadically blurry, his balance was nonexistent, the thought of food was absolutely sickening and social interaction became increasingly more daunting than usual. Especially now that the others actually expected him to interact with them. He wanted to be careful to not annoy them more than he had to and he knew he wasn’t exactly pleasant on a regular day. And Virgil when sleep deprived was the textbook definition of a nightmare.

So the obvious course of action when Virgil was in the middle of an insomniac spell where even his normal 2-3 hours eluded him was to retreat into his room, laying in complete darkness until he got so frustrated that he scrolled through Tumblr, where he could blame the strain of his eyes on the bright screen of his phone. It was during these times when he smeared more black under his eyes in an effort to match his bags, where even his white foundation didn’t match his skin.

But, as much as he wanted to stay in his room until he finally just fucking collapsed from exhaustion, it seems he wasn’t afforded even that luxury as he felt that all too familiar tug summoning him out of the mindscape. Virgil closed his eyes as he rose up feeling more nauseous than usual at the disorienting feeling. When he wasn’t immediately assaulted by Roman’s boisterous laughter or Patton’s puns or even Logan’s shuffling through flashcards he squinted his eyes open. Thomas gave a little wave, eyes holding their usual brightness and Virgil minutely relaxed at the sight of the smiling man.

“Hey, what’s up? There’s not like a life threatening situation going on right? ‘Cause that’s way too much work for me on a Tuesday. Or did you need me to walk you through your latest mistakes because buddy we got some things to talk about like who thinks tha-” Virgil noticed Thomas’ smile faltered halfway through

“Oh God, the life-threatening was supposed to be a joke, what happened? Did you trip in front of people? Did you lose your editing process? Oh fuck did you kill someone? Or-” Virgil was cut off by a shake of Thomas’s head.

“No no nothing like that. No one’s dead and the videos are fine, I promise.” Thomas placated.

“Then what’s with the kicked puppy look?” Thomas bit his lip.

“It’s just- It’s not Tuesday Virgil it’s Saturday.”

Virgil started.

“No, it’s definitely Tuesday… you just had to do-you went-Oh fuck it’s not Tuesday is it?” Thomas took a step closer. “But that doesn’t make any sense? What did we even do yesterday I don’t-” Virgil slumped forward, mouth dry and vision blurred, a ringing in his ears. When he could actually open his eyes again he found himself on the floor with his head looking up at his host’s frantic expression.

“-gil… Virgil...Virgil!” Thomas’s voice gradually became clearer. As Virgil’s eyes met his, Thomas visibly relaxed. “Hey buddy,” He smoothed Virgil’s bangs back, but rested his palm on his forehead. “Scared me for a second there. How are you feeling?” Virgil groaned and tried to push himself up. Thomas braced a hand on his back. “Whoa there, take it easy for a second.”

“I’m fine.” Virgil grumbled, blinking harshly as he tried to get the black spots in his vision to disappear.

“Ah right, totally forgot that you passing out is completely normal my bad.”

“When did you get so sarcastic. That’s my job.”

“Too bad. Now, care to explain why my anxiety decided to become one with the floor?” Virgil threw an arm over his eyes.

“Maybe the floor is my new home. Didn’t think about that, did you?”

“That doesn’t even make sen-hey! No distracting me, seriously Virge what’s going on, work with me here. Or do I need to call Patton? ‘Cause I will don’t test me-”

“No!” Virgil blurted, “I mean, don’t call him. It’s nothing, my brain just can’t shut up but really what else is new. It’s literally so stupid that when I actually want to just lay down and sleep I just fucking can’t.” He raised his hands to tug at his hair. “I mean why would the one thing that I want to actually happen be something I can get because of course fuckin-” Virgil was cut off as he was tugged forward and found himself in a hug. As he sputtered, Thomas wrapped one arm around his back and used the other to rest Virgil’s head on his chest.

“What the actual hell do you think you’re doing?” He grumbled, struggling slightly but the warmth his host provided seemed to make him even more lethargic.

“Sounds like you need to not be moving around for a little bit buddy.” Virgil closed his eyes.

“That’s the problem- I can’t stop. I have shit to do.” Virgil would deny that his voice cracked till Thomas’s dying die but he was just so fucking tired.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. How about we both just lie down for a bit huh? Watch a movie or something so there’s no stress. I always like spending time with you Virge and for once we’re not behind on anything so we can just vegetate for a while.” Without waiting for a response from his anxiety, Thomas hefted Virgil up to the couch and sat down next to him, covering them both with a blanket. “How does Lilo and Stitch sound?” Virgil gave a small shrug and tried to focus on the movie but Thomas was just so warm and the lights had been turned off and the blanket was soft and it was pretty hard to be concerned when he could feel his Host’s heartbeat next to him. He probably wouldn’t sleep but at least he could rest his eyes right? If nothing else it wasn’t so bad to be here he supposed.

And if later Thomas happened to look over and see his anxiety’s eyes closed and breathing even, well, no one had to know if he turned down the volume even more and tugged Virgil a little closer, closing his eyes himself.

Hiya! This is just a little drabble thing I made in like an hour. I know its been done many times before but what can I say-I crave affectionate interactions. I think this might be a 5+1 thing but honestly I don’t know. Anyways, hope ya enjoyed!

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #virgil sanders #cursing #virgil curses #guys im so tired #have fun #fluff #insomnia #how does one tag #fic #i tried #^~^

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