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radnewspaperroom · 1 year

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Wow, so uh....that new lesson huh?

I have.... thoughts.

Michael is getting a little too...all knowing and omnipresent 👀 I feel like.

Each time, he's spoken to MC without showing himself, and saved them while stuck in the past....but this time he's not...sending them back to their proper time?

Just helping them move?

It's rather strange.

The first time was when Solomon made food and they ate it. They woke up in the past when the boys were angels and we assume it's Michael, speaks to MC in a shinning light, like what happened in 13.

He sends MC back to their time, and tells them the conversations they've had with the boys will stick with them.

But this time...idk seemed different. Maybe it's because of how fresh the war is? But he seemed a lot...more standoffish?

and rather than just, yeeting MC through time and space again--he's just breaking whatever curse is on them so they can move.

Yet he's fully aware of how displaced they are, and that Nightbringer put them there and goes as far as to warn them.

It seems even Barbatos, up until the question of "where did you come from", doesn't realize you're from the future. And his whole ish is time and AUs.

If you choose the future option he cuts you off and makes the assumption your being an ass by referring to the human world as the future as humans see themselves above demons and comments on how it's a typical human answer: arrogant and rude.

I know angels aren't supposed to interfere too much, more to sit back and watch but it makes me wonder: did Michael send them back last time because they were in the Celestial Realm, and he doesn't care as much or isn't as concerned since they're in the Devildom this time?

Also, in his warning he says

And removes the curse of Snow White/Sleeping Beauty from MC.

Is he just curious how things will turn out? Does he not have the power this time to put MC back?

And why is he referring to the Celestial Realm that way? It almost reminds me of Simeon and his disconnect with the CR, speaking about it as if it's not his own decision that would be the call. We know Michael is basically Father's second in command, he's in charge of the CR basically from what we've seen.

Has that changed? Is Father going to be more present in this time? Or is it like the Devildom in the way of, there's a ring of command in the CR and they can over ride Michael if they all agree? Like how it seems the House of Shitlords tried to oppose Diavolo?

Also-- WTF?! Even if he passes everything he may still not be appointed King?!

Not the point of the post but, wtf?!

But yeah, so it seems Michael isn't Nightbringer, but he's aware of NB and what they've done, but isn't interfering too much.

I've had a theory in my head, partly as a joke, that Michael is a blonde, blue eyed Lucifer to be the day to his night (black hair, red eyes) and no one sees the resemblance

But what if Michael is Father in disguise? A way to connect to his creations on another level? He'd still be Omnipresent, powerful etc just in a different skin with his power hidden to pretend to be someone else.

I have no concrete proof to make this a legitimate theory, just a nagging voice in the back of my mind:

1. Michael is in charge, despite everyone fawning over Lucifer when he was an angel.

2. he's so seemingly "all knowing" and powerful.

3. Father has been missing or absent for a long time according to Simeon in the og Obey me (Boogeyman trial)

4. Everyone is terrified of Father, even if their biggest fear isn't of him. (Again, Boogeyman trial. Simeon's and Lucifer's biggest fear was him, when the boys wanted to go with MC to the CR, Lucifer asks if they really think Father would let them in)

5. He was represented in the Boogeyman trial as a bright, particular light, with no physical form. Simeon says "I haven't seen that light in a very long time" or something along those lines. Anytime we'ved talked to "Michael" it's been the same, aside from peeking at his texts.

At any rate, I loved it, loved how it flowed and already marked the calendar for 10-11 more days (should be around the 23rd-24th) so I can pounce when it's released

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plainviewwelcomesyou · 1 year

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RUN THE GAUNTLET: PRELUDE

So...

My name is Cerebelle Ragsdill.

I’m a young journalist from what used to be Plainview. Now the ‘greatest town in the nation’ is just a ruin of wormbeasts and crumbling things.

I used to be relatively sheepish. Who wouldn’t be when your neighbors are the best of the best, and you’re just.... some kid?

How do you talk to people who’ve already achieved more than you will in your entire life?

Whatever. Far from my only problem now.

A few days after Wormageddon, everything was displaced. Everyone had one of three things on their mind; either getting out, trying to pick up the pieces, or running from the worms.

I had a fourth thing on my mind.

Breaking in.

I had the most riveting, eye-catching story of the year practically dropped in my lap on a silver platter and what? I was to just stand back and be scared of it? Who else was gonna rescue those people if everyone else was too terrified to do anything about it?

...I guess homework was out of the question for the time being, and my mom was snatched up by those giants too - so what else did I have to do?

And really, what’s a reporter without a detective?

By the time I broke into Ms. Tulse’s armory for prep and helped myself to some gizmos of hers (first these weird frisbee things, TulseTurns, I think they’re called? I don’t know, I just snatched ‘em up, looked like they’d be useful - those and a battle suit I found lying in a closet somewhere) she was too wrapped up trying to round up her robokids to notice anything had been stolen at all. Can’t really blame her.

All’s it took to reach Cavehollow was brute-force-frisbeeing up a Turnip Worm and hanging on for dear life. Fell in, and that’s exactly how I got here.

Where ‘here’ is? Beats me.

A cold steel room. Bronze-ish. Not very much space to walk around. Looks like a dead end if I’ve ever seen one.

If my journey were to end here.... that’d suck.

Huh. A hatch on the ceiling just opened up.

What’s that coming out of it...?

#Plainview

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buildarocketboys · 8 months

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whatever happens, happens

I had to write this fic, since Ricky Bowen clearly needs to kiss some boys, and I couldn't find any fics where this particular scenario happened between him and E.J.

Ricky's visit to E.J. at college doesn't go quite how either of them planned.

Read here on AO3

"You know this whole thing...with Nini, and then Gina?" E.J. asks.

"Mmm?" says Ricky, mouth full of pizza. E.J. chuckles for a second before continuing.

"Do you ever think we were...I don't know, avoiding something?"

Ricky swallows his pizza and E.J. watches his Adam's apple bob down and then back up. "Like what?"

E.J. runs a hand through his hair, feeling Ricky's full attention on him now. "Well, not avoiding something, I guess. More like...displacing something."

"Nope, dude, you've totally lost me," Ricky says, chuckling, but does he sound...a little nervous?

E.J. laughs again. "Never mind. Must just be me."

Ricky rocks forward on his knees, staring directly up at E.J.'s eyes, and he's so close E.J. can see the tiny smears of tomato sauce the pizza has left around Ricky's mouth. "Must just be you...what?" Ricky says. Is E.J. imagining it, or did Ricky's eyes just dart down to his lips?

He's pretty sure he didn't imagine it, though, because now Ricky is looking up at him again with that guilty look in his eyes - the same look he has when they talk about Gina. Instead of answering, E.J. follows his instinct and cups Ricky's face in his hand, gently using his thumb to rub off the tomato sauce stains around his lips.

At the exact same time, Ricky leans forward and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips to E.J.'s.

E.J. opens his mouth in surprise, allowing Ricky's tongue to explore deeper into his mouth. Ricky tastes of pizza and his lips are softer than any girl E.J.'s ever kissed, and-

Val.

He pulls back as soon as he remembers that he has a girlfriend, but in his heart of hearts, he knows it's already too late.

Ricky gasps a little when they part, and they both can't speak for a few long moments.

Then they both speak at the same time.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I was just trying to wipe the tomato off your face."

"Oh," says Ricky, looking down. "Right."

"That came out wrong. Look, I've...kind of made some discoveries since I've been in college." E.J. gives him a little smile that makes Ricky blush. "When did you figure out you were... what? Bi? Pan? Or are you gay, because that's okay too..."

"Uh...wow, E.J. I guess...just now?"

"Oh." E.J.'s mouth is still hanging open but he can't think of anything else to say, so he shuts it.

Ricky grins a little. "You really have been doing some soul searching since summer, huh? Guess I need to do a little more of that myself."

E.J. shrugs. "Trust you to be late to figuring out your own sexuality."

Ricky chuckles a little. "Touche." Then he sobers. "But E.J....Gina."

E.J. nods, trying to speak past the lump in his throat. "Val."

Now Ricky is definitely laughing nervously, putting space between himself and E.J. Which is definitely a good idea, but also not what EJ's most selfish self wants. "Maybe we could just...pretend it never happened? Laugh it off? Just bros being bros?"

E.J. frowns. "We can't do that, Ricky. We just cheated on our girlfriends. With each other." Saying it makes it feel real, and Ricky's pained grimace shows that he feels the same way. "I can't just keep hiding from my feelings, and you can't just keep running away from them."

Ricky has pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them so he's curled up in a little ball. He's pouting and E.J. has to look away, he's too adorable. "You're right," says Ricky. "God, I hate it when you're right."

E.J. gives a little chuckle and it sounds almost normal. "I know," he says.

"So...we tell them?" says Ricky, and E.J. nods. "And then what?"

E.J. heaves a deep sigh. "I don't know, Ricky. I don't know how Val's gonna react. I don't even know what I want." He looks up at Ricky. "You definitely don't know what you want."

"I thought you had it all figured out?" says Ricky, and he looks so young and lost that E.J. just wants to pull him back in, tell him that everything will be alright, that E.J. will make it alright. But that would be a lie.

He shakes his hand. "I figured out some stuff. Plenty of stuff I've still got to figure out." He stands up, grabbing the plates from the floor and taking them over to the sink, just for something to do with his hands. "So I say we take some time, figure some stuff out."

Ricky nods, like he's OK with this. Then he says, "And then?"

E.J. shrugs. "Whatever happens, happens." He gives Ricky his patented E.J. smile, the one that always made every girl at theater camp swoon. "Even I can't predict the future."

"Right." Ricky stands there with his hands by his sides, curling into fists and stretching out again, curling then stretching, curling then stretching.

Suddenly E.J. can't stand to have him there anymore. "You need to go," he says, then realises how cold that sounds. "Go...talk to Gina. You owe it to her. To both of us."

Ricky nods his head twice, like he's still uncertain, and casts one last long look at E.J. before he turns on his heel and leaves the room.

E.J. closes the door behind him and sits down with his back against it, trying not to panic. He gets out his phone and scrolls to Val in his contacts

He takes a deep breath.

"Whatever happens, happens," he says to himself, and hits the call button.

#hsmtmts #high school musical the musical the series #ricky bowen #ej caswell #fanfic #bisexual ricky bowen truthers assemble!#truly i have to do everything myself around here #ricky is late to discovering his own sexuality bc of course he is

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isekaid-by-lord-sinnoh · 1 year

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So…I see you’re in what appears to be a faller situation. Might want to ask the S.R.R.F. (@sinnoh-research-and-restoration) about this, as it appears that Rei might not be so crazy about being from Hisui. Recently, a young woman named Arezu literally fell from the sky in Galar’s Crown Tundra, close enough to where I live that my elder Incineroar found her. So far, there have been enough hints that she did come from Hisui, displaced in time as you’d expect, and the S.R.R.F. have confirmed enough similarities that the odds of that being true are very high. Not sure if she’ll find a way back, but either way I’ll be aiding her.

Before you ask, I have no official relations with the S.R.R.F. beyond being in contact with them regarding Arezu’s situation. They have been helpful, however.

(Out of Character Author Note: even out of universe, I don’t run that blog, but have been active with the blog through RP)

holy shit… so it IS a more common problem than i thought…. not only falling thru time, but space as well, Galar is pretty far from Sinnoh (or Hisui)

i didnt even know we HAD a Research and Restoration Facility (beyond the research of Pokemon, ofc). Guess i have a few questions then, huh…

— Hikari

#pkmn irl #pokemon irl #fallers huh?#guess we’ve got some research to do…

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cellydawn · 3 years

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sans IS gaster (OR the sans theory masterpost pt. 2)

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

(drawn by me, color by @magenteel)

Previously, we discussed: Sans and his hand in the destruction of a world, his connection to Ice-E and Deltarune, and how he relates to Gaster. We’re going to continue the thread we left off on.

Section III - Gaster (Cont.)

Snails are mentioned too many times throughout Undertale for them to not be of any significance. As it turns out, they are pretty important in unraveling the mystery behind Gaster and Sans.

When you enter the area with Napstablook’s snail farm, you’ll notice that Sans’s theme is playing despite him not making an appearance.

In one of Papyrus’s phone calls, he mentions that Sans recently bought snail-shaped pasta and says “He’ll probably fill them with hotdogs and slime.” Toriel also owns a book called “72 User for Snails”. Track 72 in the Undertale OST is “Song That Might Play When You Fight Sans”. That’s multiple times that Sans is likened to snails.

Snails belong under the taxonomic class Gastropoda. Gasterpods.

These long pauses between words and phrases are not unlike how Gaster speaks.

Here is Gaster speaking with us in the opening sequence of Deltarune. And...

Now. Let’s move on.

(More under the cut.)

Mus_smile is the track that plays in room_gaster. This is my personal opinion, but the character that is the most strongly associated with smiles is Sans.

And Sans is certainly intelligent enough to be the prime suspect for being Gaster. The proper name for his namesake is Comic Sans Microsoft, or Comic Sans MS. MS can also be used as a suffix for the name of a person who has a degree in a Master of Science.

Sans also owns quantum physics books. The subject of Gaster’s scientific research is revealed in Entry #17: “photon readings negative”. Photons are described as a "quantum" of electromagnetic energy, and are of course within the realm of study under quantum physics.

Gaster, like Sans, is brilliant yet slow-working. Slower than Alphys, who is repeatedly noted to have nothing to show yet as the royal scientist in the eyes of the people and is shown to slack off constantly.

Gaster is implied to have perished, and I suppose he did, in a way, if these speculations do end up being correct. However, there’s something more to this statement. Ghosts are sort of in the realm of being not-alive, and Sans and Napstablook have a surprising level of comparability.

They both:

Get likened to “garbage”

Have connections to snails (Napstablook runs the snail farm)

Speak completely in lower case

Pretend to sleep and say “Z’s” out loud

Have black “sclera”

And the black sclera is also a topic of its own; it’s equated with the status of being brought back to life. Being “determined”. (See: Asriel and Undyne)

Undyne is especially suspect due to the strange right-eye-phenomenon she has in common with Sans, with spears shooting out of hers. Spears that are actually colored light blue, not unlike Sans’s eye.

To recap:

Sans and Gaster are heavily involved in Deltarune

They have been displaced from time and space

They have connections to snails

They are both doctors with knowledge in quantum physics

They both “fell” into the abyss

They both talk similarly

They are both slow

They are both characterized by their smile

They are both some degree of dead

Sans is Gaster or a significant piece of him. Sans has Gaster Blasters because they belong to him. If all prior conjecture proves true, he is and will be responsible for the destruction of a world or THE world within Deltarune. After all, the Latin definitions of “gaster” and “sans” are to destroy and to be without, respectively.

That brings us to the next subject: why is Sans Sans? More specifically, why is that his name? Why even change his name?

Below is the Japanese version of the fun event with Sans’s phone call. It features completely different dialogue from its English counterpart.

Am I Licca-chan? (Select No) Then from now on call me Sans. I need to check every once in a while. I won’t know when my name has changed.

“Licca-chan” is a well-known Barbie-esque dress-up doll in Japan, so popular to the point where it is even used as a synonym for other dolls from different companies. Perhaps it implies that Sans is adaptable due to Licca-chan’s nature as a doll and how she is in a constant state of change to reflect the times. It also seems to be a pun on “liquor” because Sans was talking about beer in the English version. I tried to scour the Japanese fandom for clues, but they also seemed stumped. If anyone has any ideas on what this could mean, please let me know!

Regardless, “Sans” doesn’t seem to be his actual name. Perhaps his true name was Gaster...?

Additionally, If the player changes the name of the fallen child via going into the code, this message appears in the stats menu. The vernacular is very Sans-like, with his frequent use of question tags at the end of his sentences (I counted 14 huh’s from Sans).

Finally, let’s talk about the number six. We know that it’s Gaster’s number--All of the explicitly Gaster-related fun events trigger for fun values in the sixties, Gaster’s stats are all comprised of 6′s, Gaster’s “typer-value” is 666--you get the idea.

The concept art Toby drew for the Alarm Clock’s character screen features what is presumably Sans and the number six.

“The Choice”--the track that plays during Sans’s judgements--is “Undertale” slowed down by 666%.

Section IV - Angels and Demons (The “Why”)

In modern day culture, 666 is closely associated with the devil. The Book of Revelation (13:17-18) asserts that 666 is “the number of a man” (this is important, and we’ll come back to it later) and is “the number of the Beast”. The Beast is mentioned as “coming out of the abyss”.

Sounds a lot like someone else we know, doesn’t it? And how fitting for Sans, the one who judges our sins and demands us “to burn in hell”.

But if we go further, the Beast of Revelation is described to have seven heads representing seven kings. The beast itself is an eighth king who is of the seven and "was and is not and shall ascend out of the bottomless pit, and go into perdition."

Chara is an eighth of the seven fallen children.

There’s something Chara, Sans, and Gaster all share, and it’s their association with demons.

Here is an excerpt from the Cutting Room Floor:

Among the four strings in version 1.0, the last one, designated by variable “demond”, stands out for two reasons.

The letter “d” is separate from the other letters denoting the demon variables--the rest, “x”, “y”, and “z” are in sequential alphabet order.

The speech pattern of the last string is different from the others. It has that signature question tag at the end of the sentence that a certain character is known for.

In version 1.001, the strings clearly reflect Chara’s speech pattern. This time, all the variables are in sequential order from “a” to “d”.

Pieces of dialogue at the near-end of a genocide route from Chara and Sans. Recall that Chara is using the same “Now” from earlier with Gaster and Sans.

Chara makes a reference to Banana Yoshimoto's book “Kitchen”. Take note of the page number.

Chara is also linked to the number nine. It’s the highest achievable stat in-game. It’s the stat of the locket and real knife. It’s how much damage Chara deals. It’s also the number six flipped upside down.

The connections are undeniable.

And yet, it goes further. Let’s take a look at how Christmas comes in to play.

In Deltarune, there are a few references to it, the most foremost probably being the importance of Noelle Holiday as a character. We also get Lancer’s laugh and the joke with “Krismas”.

Back to Undertale, there is significant Christmas iconography represented by “Gyfmas” and Gyftrot (bearing a strong resemblance to Photoshop Flowey, the DT Extractor, and Gaster Blasters).

What I’d like to focus on is Santa. Papyrus describes him as “a chubby, smiling man who loves to surprise people.” From the thank you note addressed to Santa we find in Sans’s room, we can assume that Sans is a Santa, at least to Papyrus. It’s pretty fitting, since Sans can be described as someone who “knows if [we’ve] been bad or good”. Maybe he can even tell if we’re sleeping or awake with how the Dark World appears to be linked with sleep and dreams (please read my theory on Sans being a Darkner for more on this).

So we can reasonably conclude that Sans presents himself as a friendly, child-oriented figure, in-line with the nature of Comic Sans, a font for children, and Ice-E, a mascot of a company marketed towards children.

…

Santa is an anagram of Satan.

…

To recap: Gaster’s association with the number 666 marks him as a “demon”. Chara and Sans are also called demons and similarly have connections to the number 6. This is more evidence that Gaster and Sans is or used to be the same people, and Chara has some form of correspondence with them.

I failed to mention before that there is actually a second Beast of Revelation “from the Earth” with "two horns like a lamb”. From the “earth” like Flowey, with horns like Asriel.

Asriel is most likely the “Angel” depicted in the prophecy within the scope of Undertale; he’s named similarly to Azrael, an angel of death, and one of his attacks is literally called “Angel of Death”. He also bears a striking resemblance to the Deltarune in his God of Hyperdeath form.

Surprise, surprise, he and Sans also share parallels.

Let’s start with their introductions. “Flowey the flower”. “Sans the skeleton”. It’s a similarly alliterative greeting and they’re both using fake names.

Mirrored dialogue yet again...

…and similar meta-commentary.

These three characters--Sans/Gaster, Chara, and Flowey/Asriel--they have all fallen. Gaster fell into his creation. Chara fell into the Underground. Asriel had “fallen down”. (Sans and Papyrus are also the only sibling pair other than Chara and Asriel. I won’t talk about Papyrus in this part though because this thing is shaping up to be too long already.)

What does this mean for Sans? I have a personal theory.

Above the entryway of the Judgement Hall, there is a reversed Deltarune. The triangles are inverted and the wings are more bat-like. In the room where only Sans appears, the same room that plays a version of “Undertale�� slowed down 666%.

I think Sans is a candidate for the Angel prophesized to destroy the world in Deltarune. I think he is Sans Serif, a seraph. He fell into his experiment and became a “fallen” angel, a demon.

The Angel’s Heaven mentioned alongside, on the other hand... Heaven can also be used to refer to God. Dog is an anagram of God.

Sans has many, many connections with dogs, especially one Annoying Dog. More on this next time.

Part 1 || ❤️ || Part 3

#undertale #deltarune #undertale theory #deltarune theory #sans #gaster #cellytheory

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arvandus · 3 years

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Hello! Happy 750!!! So I have this OC with a singing quirk. She’s basically like Giselle from enchanted where she can control the people and animals and occasionally plants and wind with just her voice. However she processes everything around her as music so it’s constantly playing in her head and gives her severe insomnia. She’s also a member of the LOV so I was wondering what her interactions with each of the members would be like but mostly Dabi. Would they find her annoying or fun? Up to you

Thank you! It took me a little bit to dwell on this one, because the idea is so interesting! But I finally got hit by the Inspiration Imagination, and here we are! I hope you like it; I've adjusted it to x Reader per your request, and I hope you don't mind I took just a little bit of creative license for the Reader's perspective and how to describe her quirk. I also kept it very Dabi-focused in the interest of time.

Dabi x F!Reader w/ a singing quirk (SFW)

💙 It would be a rocky start at first. Dabi would have difficulty trusting you, simply because your quirk is so powerful. Anything that could potentially take away his free will would make him mistrustful and want to avoid said threat like the plague - or remove it entirely.

💙 But Shigaraki says you’re off limits, so he settles to keep you at arms length while at the same time keeping a close watch on you. One wrong slip, and he’ll handle you himself (or so he tells himself).

💙 He also mistrusts you because… well… as a fellow insomniac, he knows that you’re up at all hours of the night. He’s not sure why, of course… he never knocks on your door to ask. But he hears you shuffling around in your space, pacing in your room. What could possibly keep you up so late every single night? What’s got you looking so exhausted every day as if you never sleep? He’s convinced that you’re a spy, somehow sending messages to their enemies when everyone is asleep. Except he never hears you leave your room. Never hears you talking to anyone. So there must be something he’s missing.

💙 You’re an enigma to him, and it drives him crazy. Dabi doesn’t like unknowns.

💙 On your end, Dabi drives you nuts. He’s an asshole, every word that falls from his mouth laced in backhanded compliments and passive-aggressive accusations. You’d come close to using your quirk on him on many occasions, just to make him shut up or leave the room. Fortunately for Dabi, you have a personal code of honor that you abide by, and controlling people through your singing is only reserved for your enemies.

💙 He’s not your enemy… not yet at least.

💙 You know why he doesn’t trust you, and you don’t blame him… and he's certainly not the first person to be suspicious of you. But does he really gotta be such a dick about it? You try to be upfront with him, to explain that you live by a code and he’s safe from your quirk, but it makes little difference. Dabi doesn’t trust easily, and promises mean very little to him.

💙 His trust is finally gained when you use your quirk to save him and the other league members from certain death. There’s nothing quite like the sensation of hearing the beautiful notes of your voice while in freefall and then feeling himself being caught on a strong wind current, only to be set safely on the ground seventy meters below.

💙 After that happens, he begins to take an even greater interest in you, but this time with more curiosity and less mistrust.

💙 He starts poking and prodding, some questions being asked directly, while others are only implied. After all, he loves his little mind games, and even more so, he loves getting under your skin, especially since you refuse to use your quirk on him. It’s basically given him a ‘get out of jail free’ card for being a brat.

💙 He really, really wants you to prank the others using your quirk. And your little miss “I’m a good girl with a special code of ethics” makes the game that much sweeter. After all, you’re just as much a villain as the rest of them. If Toga can go around swinging her knives from her fingertips, then why couldn’t you sing a little song now and then?

💙 But Dabi quickly learns that you’re just as stubborn as he is, if not more so.

💙 Even so, it’s frustrating for you because if it were anyone else you wouldn’t have put up with this level of bullshit. The persuasion, the flirting, the school-yard level dares… the man has no shame and tries every tactic in the book to try to get what he wants from you. What makes it even worse is that a secret part of you enjoys his mischief. His ideas are tempting sometimes. Especially when the other league members annoy you.

💙 On top of all that, he is strangely alluring, even with his scars. And more importantly, the ‘song’ his body gives off is, well, a pleasant one to say the least.

💙 Every person has a ‘musical aura’ more or less, a small symphony of heartbeats, breaths, and something more… ephemeral. It comes through in the way they move through the environment, in the way the air particles are displaced around them and vibrate with their energy.

💙 And for some reason Dabi’s song is practically intoxicating, just like his sharp blue eyes that always seem to pin you down, heavy lids held up by a cocky smirk.

💙 The two of you reach an impasse in your battle of wills, an unspoken stand-off that never wanes. And it’s upon this competitive dance that the two of you begin to build some strange sense of camaraderie.

💙 He’ll eventually give up on his desire for pranking his comrades when he sees you use your quirk on heroes. But not just any hero, of course…

💙 Imagine Dabi’s glee when you use your song quirk to make Endeavor literally dance as the large man’s face flushes red with rage. It was intended to keep him busy while the League made their escape. But it makes it all over the news of course, and becomes viral online for months. The laughter that the two of you share when you get back to the hideout lasts for hours as you watch the news replay the scene over and over it. It really never gets old.

💙 Oh man, does he like you even more now. You’re his new favorite person. And he finally stops harassing you about using your quirk on the League members, instead finding much greater enjoyment in targeting different heroes together.

💙 There will come a time that he’ll catch you on one of your many insomnia-induced nights. It’s a hard one, sleep being kept at bay by the musical cacophony surrounding you, despite your obvious exhaustion. Your strength finally shatters, and you break down into tears in your room in frustration.

💙 Guess who ends up knocking on your door?

💙 Of course Dabi heard you. For months he’s been listening to the pacing of your feet or your frustrated sighs through the thin, old walls. It’s almost become a lullaby to him by this point, a way for him to know that you’re safe and sound… more or less.

💙 “What’s wrong, doll?” he’ll ask, as he stares down at your tear-streaked face. “I can hear ya through the walls, so don��t gimme any of your bullshit excuses.” Anyone else would hear the mockery in his voice, but for you with your quirk, you can hear the song of caring weaved through them, a hidden secret that you’re sure even he doesn’t realize is there.

💙 He won’t wait for an answer as he enters your personal space and makes himself comfortable.

💙 His sudden presence and that comforting familiar song it brings with it soothes more than you’d like to admit.

💙 But you do admit it. You admit to everything. The fatigue you feel, the way your quirk makes you suffer, and how for some reason, the song of him puts you at ease, drowning out the other noise. It’s like your inner radio is tuned just for him. Normally you wouldn’t admit to any of this of course, but you’re well past the point of exhaustion now, and your brain isn’t running as smoothly as it normally would. So what did it matter if you told him everything? You really didn’t have the strength to care anymore.

💙 “Your quirk is fuckin’ weird.” he admits. Then a grin will spread across his face. “You like my ‘song,’ huh? C’mere.”

💙 He’ll have you lay down with him on your bed and hold you close to him, your head on his chest as he rests his chin in your hair. “Does it help?” he’ll ask.

💙 Shockingly, it does. His music surrounds you, and you close your eyes as you let it cover you like a warm blanket. Everything else seems to fall to the wayside, your tired brain only able to focus on one melody - his. Before you can even nod in response, you’re fast asleep.

💙 It’ll become a habit for you two now… On particularly hard nights, he’ll keep you company and hold you. And maybe… maybe he’ll start letting you keep him company when he has hard nights too.

#Arv's 750 Followers Event #Dabi x reader #dabi x reader hcs #dabi x reader headcanons #dabi hcs #dabi headers #dabi sfw #dabi humor #dabi fluff #soft dabi

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magdaclaire · 3 years

Text

It’s Gabriel Day!

Prompts: Spontaneity and Music.

I also filled my square of Time Loops and Secret Caretaking for the Heaven and Hell Bingo and the Bad Things Happen Bingo respectively, so I’m prefacing the fic with the minutiae for the bingos first.

Link: Find it on Ao3

Square Filled: Time Loops (Heaven and Hell Bingo) and Secret Caretaking (Bad Things Happen Bingo)

Ship: Gabriel & Raphael

Rating: Gen

Tags: Archangels, Time Loop, Secret Caretaking, Light Angst, Yearning, Nostalgia

Summary: Long before the days of Sam and Dean Winchester, the first being that the archangel Gabriel (and part time trickster Loki, if one would like to get technical) put into time loops was himself.

Word Count: 1050

Created for @spnarchangelweek & @heavenandhellbingo & @badthingshappenbingo

Fic under the cut!

hiraeth

Long before the days of Sam and Dean Winchester, the first being that the archangel Gabriel (and part time trickster Loki, if one would like to get technical) put into time loops was himself. And Raphael, though he would argue that she doesn’t really count. She’s his brother. His twin. The other side of his truly charming coin. She perfected her healing on the inside of one of his time pockets, given years padded into the cozy space of one of Heaven’s dreary afternoons. The time pockets, as they are, are perfectly safe, Michael. For his younger years, Gabriel mostly uses them as a method of developing his skills; he’s not one for being unskilled in things in front of any of the angels, as he knows that they see the archangels as unbridled authority figures under their Father. He’d hate to break that kind of… borderline idolization. It’s nice to be loved like that.

When his brothers go to war and there is more fighting in Heaven than Gabriel ever thought there could be (there has always been war in Heaven, angels have always been soldiers, but Lucifer was a lawyer, Michael raised them), his pockets of time, their looping safety, become a haven. He creates them in fits of spontaneity, unable to flit further across Heaven and deliver another death notification, wanting to cut off the communication streaming endlessly in his head for just a moment. He plays his music, picks instruments that Lucifer would love the sound of and tells himself that he does not miss his betrayer brother (he had always been Lucifer’s favorite, he thinks), and tries not to sob. He plays music until he feels some semblance of calm again, and then he leaves. The looping of time makes sure that it hasn’t been any more than an hour by the time he returns.

One particular time, Raphael catches on the edges of his wings, and she follows him into the loop. It figures that she knows about them. She probably knows every single thought in his head, if he’s not careful about it. She probably knows everything about everything, honestly. Even though they had always been the same age, she had taught him things since they were fledglings, taught him how to fly when Lucifer had made games of pushing them off of ledges (he had never meant anything by it, he had just wanted them to fly too, he was such a small thing, a bright thing, nothing but a puff of feathers himself). Michael likely thinks he holds secrets from her, but Gabriel doubts it. Raphael has always been their wisest brother.

“Gabriel, I’m unsure how long this can continue,” she says as soon as the loop settles around them, the tiny setting of the log cabin he usually chooses shivering around the unexpected weight of holding both of their large forms. It’s not strictly a real place, just one he crafts, so it adjusts after a moment of this, the extension of his grace flourishing under the larger piece of it he allows it to take. He focuses back on his brother.

“What do you mean?” he asks, though he can likely guess. Michael had never liked it when he played with time. If he has any idea, his temper is already short these days. Raphael sighs.

“I’ve done as much as I can to keep this under the scope of Michael’s attention, but there is only so much I can do,” she says, the words coming out as if they strain her to say, as if they are an admission she is loath to give to him. In this bitterness that the war has given him, he’s forgotten just how much his brother has always protected him. With this great weakness within him, he misses the days in which one could not look between his wings without finding Raphael, and vice versa given that they were always so close. The days when they were fledglings and Michael could hardly drag them apart to bathe them, to carry them upon his great heights (he hardly seems so much larger now, he used to be so much larger), to make everything such an adventure just so that they would separate. Gabriel misses the days when they would never separate.

“How long have you known?” he asks, curiosity more than anything, but he has a feeling he knows. She smiles.

“I felt it the first time you slipped through one without telling me. The displacement of you, however subtle you think you may be, is hard to miss,” she replies, and then her smile slips. His gaze hits the floor before he can help it. “Soon, even in his occupation, Michael will begin to realize as well, you know. I have deceived him where I could, but Gabriel-”

“You deceived Michael for me?” he interrupts, looking at her once again, open vulnerability cracking open his expression in a manner that he cannot shutter. He and Raphael, they are- they’ve always been- but Michael. He is their viceroy. There is no deceiving their viceroy. Raphael holds his gaze.

“Where I could. He is not in his right mind of current, Gabriel. It is his job to lead, and yours to carry the word, but it is mine to assure that there is something left standing when all of it is done. What that looks like, that is up to me. That is my discretion,” she says, her voice a stone thing, and Gabriel looks at where his twin once stood and sees an archangel grown from a circumstance he thinks he might be tired of living through. That is not a very angelic thought, however. He pushes it off. For now.

“You think I need to get different hobbies, huh?” Gabriel replies, injecting levity into a conversation that has absolutely none, because that’s what he does, because actually engaging with things on a genuine level might kill him one day. Hell, it might even do it twice. Raphael graces him with a roll of her eyes (as many of them as there are), and a snort of what might be piteous laughter. He’ll take it.

“Sure, brother. Different hobbies,” she says, and then she drags him out of his own time loop. Rude.

#spnarchangelweek #badthingshappenbingo #gabriel spn #raphael spn #spn #this really ended up as a gabriel&raphael fic #bc i love gabriel angst #and also gabriel&raphael my beloved #thank you to amanda for titling this bad boy #also this is my 200th fic on ao3 #so yeehaw #mine

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

Title: Ructare florem tristitiae

Summary: Allen Walker’s feelings bubble up his throat, flower petals spilled on his father’s grave, for the Akuma, who will never get proper burials. Ructare florem tristitiae, Cross Marian diagnoses, grief flowers.

Parasitic type Exorcists never live for long; carries of Hanahaki should die even quicker.

Allen is determined to make the best of it.

Rosa bracteata

His name was Allen, his father was dead, and he’s choking, drowning in his grief, spilling his guts in the graveyard. His shoulders shook and he heaved until he collapsed, fingernails clawing at his skin until they left red scratches. Metal in his mouth as he vomited roses that, under all the blood from thorns tearing up his throat, were white.

“You want me to retrieve Mana Walker?” the grinning clown asked, curiously staring down at him.

Another rose petal fell from Allen’s mouth as he screamed his father’s name.

Ornithogalum umbellatum

Cross was too late.

His mistake couldn’t be any clearer, standing in front of Mana’s grave, holding a casket that was bound to be empty, looking at a child that was meant to disappear. Allen’s face was covered by blood, and thus Cross did not pay any attention to the flowers surrounding him as he picked Nea’s host up and carried him to safety.

The little brat never should have been caught up in this war of theirs and Cross almost wanted to laugh at the irony of a Noah’s host being so deeply connected to Innocence, it took over his body. Laughing, drinking, and sex would certainly be better distractions than screaming in rage and lashing out at a kid that couldn’t be blamed for any of this, but right now, Cross couldn’t afford to do either.

All he had left were the curses he could hiss under his breath as the child screamed himself hoarse from the pain, choking until Allen threw up on him, the remains of lunch and flower petals ruining his shirt.

“Fuck no,” Cross exhaled, fingers twitching for a cigarette. “Since when does the brat have fucking Hanahaki?”

Mother only huffed. “Why are you asking me? Shouldn’t you know since you watched him?”

“Well, he certainly wasn’t spitting up little snowdrops when he was running around with Mana!”

No, when the two clowns had been traveling together, Mana had been the one choking on the same red poppies he’d always cried for his brother. Fucking Nea, this better be worth it. From a scientist to an Exorcist to a nanny for traumatized little Noah hosts, who pissed their bedding.

“Those aren’t snowdrops,” Mother said, picking at the few flowers Cross had cleaned off the blood. “Aren’t you a bad priest that you can’t even recognize these?”

“Why the fuck should I recognize any flowers—”

“Stars of Bethlehem!”

Cross turned to the door where Barba was standing with Allen’s clean sheets, pointing excitedly at the little flowers. “Those are stars of Bethlehem. I’ve always wanted to decorate with them for Christmas because of the name, but they’re pretty sad flowers.”

Sad flowers, huh? “What do they mean?”

“Atonement,” Barba replied. “And reconciliation, guilt, and fear.”

Sighing, Cross leaned back in his chair and grabbed the entire bottle of wine. “Of course, the brat has grief flowers.”

Parasitic Innocence and Hanahaki? Nea better woke up soon, or the boy might die before he had the chance to erase him.

Calendula officinalis

Allen’s new Master was a bastard, so unlike Mana that he wanted to scream and return to his grave, spill more father’s day gifts and stars. But if he returned to Mana without having saved a single soul, he could never forgive himself.

And thus Allen stayed, carried his bags, found a routine with his Master, wondering when he’d finally learn how to use his Innocence against those Akuma.

“Hurry up, stupid apprentice, we’re going to be late.”

“Late where—” Allen froze as his gaze stopped at a lone man in the crowd and his left eye suddenly exploded in pain as his vision changed, shifted, and the man turned into a shadow, a skeleton wrapped in chains and guts, screaming, tearing at their constraints, begging for salvation.

Allen fell to his knees, his father’s screams echoing in his mind as he began coughing, struggling for breath, orange blooms landing on the dirt road.

“Allen— what are you doing!?”

His Master’s voice thundered through the air, commanding and another note he couldn’t identify.

“The man,” he stuttered out, swallowing down the bitter taste, the copper. “The man, Master, he’s like— like Mana!”

Cross’s head whipped up just in time for the man to see them.

And then all hell broke loose.

Tagetes erecta

The marigolds continued to haunt Allen until he learned to swallow down the blooms even as he fought against the Akuma.

No matter the Akuma’s level or origin story, orange petals always begged to leave his mouth. It made their stay in India more taxing than any other, marigold garlands covering the streets at all times. How strange that a flower that had always represented pain and grief to him was celebrated here so. Allen had met quite a few people suffering from the same ailment as him, though the taste of their hurt was a different one; unrequited love, fear, hopelessness – the number of emotions that could evoke Hanahaki seemed to be as varied as the stars above.

Allen had never known which one Mana had suffered from, but his flowers had also never changed, blooming for the same purpose and person.

He stared down at the abandoned bowl, his arm still aching. He had been so careful that any of the marigolds he brought Narain were not stained by those expelled by his body. But now, covered by the Akuma’s blood, it hardly seemed to matter.

They looked just the same.

Mentha arvensis

Allen’s introduction to the Black Order was chaotic. From his meeting with the angry Japanese Exorcist he absolutely did not want to work with ever thank-you-very-much to the confusing words and touch of the guardian Hevelaska. Komui, his superior, seemed like a fun and kind man, one Allen wouldn’t mind working alongside.

This place truly felt like it could become home if one were to believe Lenalee. Allen even had his own room that was his to do with as he liked, given that he didn’t destroy it. That certainly was an entirely new experience.

Allen hadn’t really had a home in a long while, though, when he was just feverish enough, feeling more like a child than an Exorcist, he would consider his Master’s coat on his shoulders shelter his home.

Not that he’d ever admit that to the man out loud.

“Is there anything else we need to know?” Komui asked, looking over Allen’s file, hopefully not cringing too much over Allen’s handwriting. Just because he had gained dexterity didn’t mean that his handwriting was particularly great. “Your personal data isn’t exactly precise.”

Allen tried to keep his smile in place, but he was well aware that his life had gaps. The entire first half of his childhood was one giant black hole, and as much as Allen sometimes wanted to solve that particular mystery, he was sure he hadn’t forgotten for no reason.

Mana’s memories had been full of empty spaces, and that for a good reason too.

Allen still remembered his screams when his nightmares overwhelmed him, begging for his brother to save him, forgive him, stay by his side eternally.

“I’m sorry,” Allen apologized regardless. “I know my background is not that easy.”

Komui only smiled at him. “Don’t worry, Allen. We care more about your own welfare now than anything else.”

His throat tickled and he desperately wanted to believe Komui, perhaps a bit naively too as his childhood self would condemn, but he tasted mint and knew it was for naught. Komui might care, God, the man had given everything so he could be here with his sister, but that didn’t speak for the entire Order.

“There actually is one more thing,” Allen admitted. “I have grief flowers.”

Komui’s eyes widened, fear and pity flashing through them. “How long?”

“Since General Cross took me in,” Allen said, knowing that for most, that would mean he was as close to death as he could be. “But I have it handled. My Innocence keeps me steady and heals my lungs.”

It was probably not as good of a reassurance as the man was hoping for, but it was all Allen could give. As always, he was lacking.

Lathyrus odoratus

Dealing with Innocence always interfered with his sickness. His own shard kept him healthy enough to continue on even if the number of flowers he’d displaced over the years should have long since killed him.

“What the hell, moyashi?” Kanda shouted as Allen doubled over in front of Lala and Guzol, covering the sand with blood, baby’s breath and sweet peas. Baby’s breath was nothing new given the presence of Innocence. Allen had filled Maria’s casket with it multiple times already, but he knew the sweet peas were for Lala, the sentient doll, and her dearly beloved human, her accommodator.

“Let her sing,” Allen begged through the pain, wheezing, still pathetic and weak. “Let her sing, please.”

And they remained as they were.

Gypsophila paniculate

God’s true apostle was a little girl that made Allen freeze. No matter how much he wanted to fight, to protect the world he had learned to love with his father’s smiles and jokes, he couldn’t anymore, his eye destroyed, bleeding.

Time running out and out and out until—

Rewind.

Miranda’s Innocence, baby’s breaths on his tongue, was as cruel as it was kind, giving Allen more time to fight, to understand, to choke down the marigolds as Road ordered the self-destruction of the Akuma and he watched that screaming soul disintegrate.

He knew there would be a price to pay.

The Noah’s door, a checkered form that seemed so familiar, closed and Allen stumbled back to Miranda’s side. Sweet reassurances were all it took to get her settled, to allow time to return to them.

Allen blacked out with a cough so deep, he thought he was crying at Mana’s grave again.

Papaver nudicaule

Lavi was curious by nature. It was the reason Bookman had picked him in the first place. Their kind needed to be curious, interested in the world, but only ever as its silent observers. Bookman Junior could recite his entire lecture on the topic, the ever repeated ‘know your duties’. Junior knew that he wasn’t Bookman’s first apprentice, and given how much Bookman insisted that Lavi stayed impartial, he knew there was a story to discover, history to inherit someday.

But for now, he had to chat up the Destroyer of Time.

“Nice to finally meet you,” Lavi said with a mild smile. “Yu-chan already told me so much about you!”

Kanda had been unusually chatty, complaining about Allen Walker for minutes, which was as good as ranting for an hour for normal people. Lavi had learned a lot about Allen during that time, mainly his sickness being of interest to Junior. The number of people suffering from Hanahaki was low enough that they had yet to find a proper cure or cause.

There were enough speculations, the church was particularly fond of going on about Eve and Lilith, Eden’s curse, but it was as good an explanation as a shrug and a disinterested ‘I don’t know’.

Although, perhaps, remembering the glass of flowers in his coat pocket, a cure had been found, just not one readily available for the masses.

“Here! Miranda collected them for you. It’s tradition in Germany to save them.”

Lavi handed Allen the glass full of yellow poppies before the youth could protest, waiting to see what his reaction would be. He had already gathered that Allen was used to his sickness, had learned how to live with them.

These flowers should not surprise him.

And yet they did, the boy almost dropping the glass when he saw what was inside.

“Poppies,” Allen breathed, his face twisting into shock, the kind of which Lavi had never seen before. “But they’re Mana’s—”

Mana Walker, the father that had been turned into an Akuma.

Lavi had to hold back a grin.

This was bound to be interesting.

Roseanne giganteus carnivorus

Roots took ahold of Allen’s heart and lungs and he reminded himself repeatedly that Mana loved him, that he had friends now and a home, that he was cared for. His father may have cursed him, but only so Allen would have something to live for so that he’d continue and not plant his roots at his father’s grace and let his body decay to feed the soil.

“I never wondered if Akuma could love,” Allen confessed to Lavi while Krory was still knocked out, head resting against the window of the train. “I thought them incapable of forming positive relationships unless they were modified.”

“Modified?” Lavi echoed, keen eyes, fake smile.

Took a liar to find another.

Eliade had felt something for Krory, even if it might just have been possessiveness, staking her claim on her victim and prey, waiting for the Innocence to get strong enough that its destruction would be interesting.

I love you, Mana’s words rang in his ears.

The flowers settled.

Glaucium flavum

The Exorcist cheated them right out of their money, and if Tyki didn’t feel like there was something familiar about the boy, he would have ripped his Innocence and heart out right there. He’d learned restraint, how to curb Joyd’s hunger. It had been insufferable when he’d still been a child, giving in to pleasure much too quickly.

But the three Exorcists right in front of him were taunt and temptation.

And still, Tyki resisted, especially once he got close enough to that white-haired menace to catch his scent. He’d excused himself after one round, saying he needed to freshen up. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it also wasn’t the truth.

“You smell like flowers, menino,” Tyki commented, watching as the boy quickly wiped blood from his mouth, something yellow disappearing down the drain. “Hanahaki?”

Fraude A flinched, looking like he’d been caught in the act. The cheerful if devious demeanor from before had all but faded away, leaving behind an exhausted teenager. The bags under his eyes were heavy, and the Innocence in his hand must be sucking away at his lifespan as well.

What wouldn’t Tyki give to turn that crystal into dust, play savior for this damned child.

“It’s not contagious,” the boy said immediately, probably thinking that Tyki was one of those fools who avoided flower bearers like the plague.

“I know,” Tyki said. “Don’t worry about it, menino. You seem to be doing as well as you can. I want to ask about your sickness if you don’t mind.”

The boy eyed him suspiciously but nodded.

“The child we have with us, Eeez, he has Hanahaki as well. His family threw him out because they could not afford to care for his health.”

Not that Tyki and his friends could afford his treatment either. Whenever Eeez, Momo, and Clark slept, Noah’s third disciple reached far into the lungs of the boy and ripped out the flowers stealing his breath, drenched his fingers in blood to see the child take another pathetic breath.

“Oh.” Understanding flashed over Fraude’s face. “Which kind?”

“Fear,” Tyki replied and there was so much to fear for weak little human boys in a world as cruel as theirs. “And you?”

“Grief,” the boy said, almost apologetic as if he’d trade his variant for a chance to help Eeez. “And I’m sorry, but I can’t offer you any help. My method of coping won’t work for him.”

Flores de tristeza and an Exorcist, the boy was truly detested by fate.

“I understand.” Oh, he did. That parasite leeching on the boy’s lifespan kept him alive, healed him over and over again so he could keep fulfilling its cursed mission. Tyki wondered what his lungs looked like, whether they were entirely scarred over. “Thank you still, menino.”

Aquilegia atrata

Lenalee was excellent at reading people, even if she couldn’t keep up with Lavi. It was a skill she had learned out of necessity during all her attempts at escaping the Order, searching for weaknesses in her guards, moments where their attention slipped just enough for her to throw herself out of the high towers they kept her in.

No matter how much Allen lied and cheated and smiled, Lenalee could see that it wasn’t true.

And that he was putting too much pressure on himself.

Surrounded by all the Akuma, hunting down Allen’s Master, the fall was inevitable.

Lenalee just hoped she would be there to catch him when it was the time as Komui had been there for her.

Dianthus caryophyllus

Innocence was good and holy.

God’s dearly beloved crystal, sent to save humanity.

Allen had known this deep in his heart, had clung to it when the appearance of his arm had still made him insecure because it gave him purpose. He was not so foolish as to think himself special, one of God’s chosen, but he chose to believe that Innocence mattered.

That it was kind and protected.

“I’m sorry,” Suman Dark apologized under tears he could not cry as Allen kept on screaming, begging him to live and go on, no matter how much the Innocence was eating away at him.

This couldn’t be true; it shouldn’t happen. His own Innocence would never do this to him, had it loved and protected him even against his own father. Yet it was failing him when Allen tried to dig through the violet butterflies, the violent pain. His shoulders trembled terribly as he swallowed down the sharp taste of carnations burning him as much as the artificial insects left nothing of Suman behind.

Cercis siliquastrum

“Fraude A?” Tyki exclaimed, surprised, though he knew he shouldn’t be. He had known that the tristeza boy had been an Exorcist, these plagues liked to flaunt it after all, with their shiny expensive uniforms, and he’d known that they’d eventually clash on the battlefield.

He had just, foolishly perhaps, hoped that it would be a fair battle, one where the boy could give it his all despite his failing, scarred lungs.

Allen Walker.

How pitiful that his name was on Tyki’s list.

“Don’t worry,” Tyki told him. “It doesn’t hurt.”

His words weren’t even a lie, and Tyki knew he could very easily put the boy to rest without him feeling a thing, and yet, he couldn’t help explain his work, act it out, because he wanted to leave his mark on his victim, have Allen Walker grieve flowers for him.

So Tyki crushed his hand, his Innocence, destroyed it with Dark Matter, let the Tease bite into his heart, and left the boy in tears.

Taking his dying breaths, unable to spit any flowers for Tyki. With a grin, he reached deep into the boy’s lung, retrieving judas tree blooms and a silver button.

How sad.

Tyki had hoped for poppies.

Bellis perennis

Allen lay on the ground, his Innocence above him as mist as he struggled for breath. It had never been this bad before. He couldn’t remember a single time where his flowers had been coated in so much blood, he couldn’t tell which kind it was right from the bat.

“You can’t overdo it,” Fo told him, rolling back on her feet almost playfully if not for the severity of the situation. “Your Innocence isn’t healing you anymore.”

I know, Allen wanted to reply. I know, I know, and it is all my fault.

He only wanted to continue on, do as he always had, push through the pain, and fulfill his purpose. Why was it so difficult, why did he struggle so much? Did his Innocence think him a betrayer, nothing worth saving anymore?

Please, he begged into the quiet, his flowers for the first time since he’d started blooming posing a threat to him. I just want to do my duty.

He grabbed his bloodied flowers with his one good hand and thought about springtime and Mana teaching him how to make daisy chains.

Tagetes lucida

Marigolds were comforting, almost. Allen could feel his throat put itself back together, healing as his body still decided to punish him. He wondered whether the other parasitic Exorcists had felt like this as well, torn between being weapon and host, beloved friend and tool.

He wondered what it might have been like for Maria to be the host of Innocence and spit flowers whenever she needed her throat to sing.

He wondered what her Innocence’s name had been once upon a time before it had become nothing more than Grave of Maria.

(Wondered whether his Master loved him enough to turn him into a doll to be used for battle as Allen would want.

Whether Cross Marian loved him too much to do so.)

“Tell me where my friends are,” Allen ordered and the Akuma complied, truth tasting like marigolds and poppies.

Rosa bracteata: Macartney rose – white rose, typically given to fathers

Flower list

Ornithogalum umbellatum: Star of Bethlehem – atonement for crime, reconciliation, guilt and fear

Calendula officinalis: marigold – pain and grief

Tagetes erecta: marigold

Mentha arvensis: mint – suspicion, lack of trust

Lathyrus odoratus: sweet pea – goodbye, departure

Gypsophila paniculate: baby’s breath – innocence, pure at heart

Papaver nudicaule: poppies

Roseanne giganteus carnivorus: Rosanne from canon

Glaucium flavum: poppies

Aquilegia atrata: purple columbine – driven to win

Dianthus caryophyllus: yellow carnation – disdain, disappointment, rejection

Cercis siliquastrum: judas tree – betrayal, unbelief

Bellis perennis: daisy – innocence, purity, new beginnings

Tagetes lucida: marigold

#dgm #allen walker #tyki mikk #lavi #cross marian #d gray man #fanfic

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

Pranks Are So Revealing Sometimes…

@itafushiweek One bed prompt

After everything had finally settled and damages were assessed to Tokyo jujutsu high following the Kamo incident, the faculty decided it was time for a full renovation. They would fix the damaged areas but also update other undamaged parts. Including the dorms according to their teacher. The students were given a schedule of when each of their rooms would be worked on and given boxes to pack their belongings for temporary storage.

“Don’t worry,” Gojo grinned. “Shouldn’t take more than a day or two per room.”

“Yeah, okay,” Megumi stared back up at his teacher after reading the information. “But where are we supposed to sleep if our room is being renovated?”

“Oh, well since the unoccupied rooms will also be renovated during this process…” the man tapped his chin. “Got it! You bunk with Yuuji, then switch when it’s his rooms turn.”

“Cool! A sleepover!” Yuuji pumped his fists in the air. “We can hang out and watch movies and eat junk food and just crash from a food coma.”

Megumi swallowed thickly with a groan. “I’d rather you give me your credit card,” directing his comment to Gojo, “so I can get a hotel room.”

“No, can do buddy. Come on, it won’t be that bad.”

Yuuji threw an arm over Megumi’s. “It’ll be fine,” his brilliant smile causing the man’s cheeks to redden. “Movies and food, we’ll have fun.”

Megumi looked away and crossed his arms over his chest. “Ugh! Fine!”

“Good.” Gojo patted his student on the shoulder. “Now that’s settled, get packing young Megumi. Tomorrow we’ll be starting with your room.”

With Yuuji’s help, it didn’t take long for Megumi to pack up his belongings. There really wasn’t much, fitting everything into 3 medium sized boxes. Mostly clothes, some books, and minor items. He packed a bag with just enough to be displaced a couple of days, and if the renovations took longer, he could probably just borrow clothes from Yuuji. They were roughly the same size anyway. The boxes were then taken to Yuuji’s room and stacked in a corner out of the way.

But the full toll of the situation didn’t really hit Megumi until the morning of the renovations. He was awoken around 7 am by Gojo, letting him know the construction workers would be there in 15 minutes. Great. So, he dragged himself out of bed and walked into Yuuji’s room planning to get a couple more hours of sleep. It should be fine considering Yuuji rarely got up early on a day off.

The problem was— ‘Only one bed…’ Megumi groaned internally as he swiped his hand down his face. Duh! How could he have missed this detail?! And there was no way to fit a second bed in the room since they were only designed for single occupancy.

“Ugh…” Megumi shuffled back out of the room in irritation. Guess he’ll just go get breakfast and figure out what to do next!

Look, he didn’t have a problem sharing a bed with another person. It’s just sleeping on a bed instead of the hardwood floor, what’s the issue with that? If it was anyone else, Nobara, Toge, Maki, Yuta, whatever— no problem. The PROBLEM is it’s Yuuji. Maybe one of them will let him stay with them? Megumi put his head down on the kitchen table with his arms over his head in frustration. No… that would be weird to ask. Gojo already made all the arrangements between everyone, so if he suddenly had an issue with it, they might find that suspicious and he really didn’t need them asking questions, or worse teasing him about it.

He could hear it all too. What’s wrong with Yuuji? You worried something might happen? Too afraid to confront your feelings. Wink, wink. Aww that’s so cute you’re embarrassed. But Yuuji’s a good catch. Yada, Yada. Maki’s monotone, “just man up” tone was not something Megumi wanted to hear. ‘It’s just a night or two… no big deal. He’ll sleep on one side; I’ll sleep on the other. What could go wrong?’

“Morning!”

Megumi’s body immediately went stiff at the sound of Yuuji voice. Damn guy was like a cat this morning, he never heard him come in! Or did he just miss it because he was too wrapped up in his mind?

“Yeah… morning,” Megumi responded as he sat up in his chair and pretended everything was fine. “Sorry, I didn’t make coffee or anything yet.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I can make breakfast. Want some?” Yuuji responded in his chipper way.

“Sure, since you’re offering.”

“I see they started working on your room. That’s what woke me up.”

“Huh? Oh yeah, That’s why I’m up too. Gojo kicked me out at 7.”

“Oh, if you were tired, you could’ve just gone back to sleep in my room.”

“Nah. I’m fine.”

“You still look tired.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Yuuji placed a plate of food in front of his friend, then sat down across from him with his own. “So, got any plans for today?”

“Not really.”

“I was thinking of grabbing some snacks from the store for tonight.”

“Something happening tonight?”

“Movie night! Remember?”

“You were serious about that?!”

“Of course! We rarely have time to relax, so this is a perfect opportunity.”

“Well, since I’m stuck in your room… what movie are you picking?”

“You can choose. I don’t really care. How about I’m in charge of snacks and you grab the movies.”

“Fine. I’ll dig something up.”

The pair part ways for the rest of the day. Megumi felt it best to keep himself occupied so he wouldn’t think about that night. So, after breakfast he got some training in with Yuta and Maki who between the two really kept him on his toes. The construction work on his room sounded a lot more extensive than Gojo had relayed based on all the noise coming from within. Someone had placed a “do not enter” sign on the door, and so when Megumi walked past it, he didn’t bother peeking. By the time he returned from shopping around 5pm, it was silent. ‘Guess they’re done for the day.’ But since the sign was still up, it wasn’t finished. ‘Ugh, it better be done by tomorrow night.’

“Hey, Megumi!”

Megumi froze in place. Damn it with Yuuji sneaking up on him! He turned around. “Yeah?”

“I got food!” Yuuji held up two plastic bags stuffed full. “Dinner, snacks, drinks. Did you grab the movies?”

Megumi pulled three DVD cases out of his shopping bag and showed it to his friend. Three movies would kill about six hours, which meant sleeping right after they were finished, equaled less dead time to worry about.

“Sweet! Let’s get started!”

The moment of dread was upon Megumi the instant he walked into Yuuji’s room and laid eyes on that single bed. And as the dorm mate puttered around oblivious to his nervousness, he just watched quietly as the man plopped the bags onto the bed and grabbed a laptop from the desk. This was it, no turning back now.

“Why are you just standing there?” Yuuji questioned with laughter in his tone and patted the bed. “Come on, before the food gets cold.”

Megumi rolled his eyes as if nothing was wrong, but his heartbeat picked up the pace with each step towards the bed. He should be happy that Yuuji was so oblivious to emotions, and yet a part of him was annoyed… maybe disappointed… Megumi quickly shut those thoughts down as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“So, just to get it out of the way. How is this gonna work? Like which side do I sleep on?” Megumi questioned.

Yuuji stopped fusing with a food container and looked over. “Oh, hmm, doesn’t matter to me. I can sleep on either side.”

Well since he was already on one side. “I’ll just take this side I’m on then.”

Yuuji gave him a thumbs up. “Pass me the first movie.”

The first movie… all the movies he’d chosen were just action types. Megumi wanted something with as little romance as possible and knew Yuuji didn’t mind action or horror. Frankly, he thought it was funny his friend still loved horror after becoming a jujutsu sorcerer. Don’t they see enough of it in real life? Between the movies and the eating, he was pleasantly surprised to find that Yuuji became so engrossed in what was on the screen, it helped his anxieties stay lowered.

Megumi had taken up a position with his back against the wall sitting upright, and legs stretched out in front of him, while Yuuji was next to him with about a foot of space between them. Mid-way through the third movie, Megumi was genuinely paying attention since he’d never seen it before, when he felt a pressure against his shoulder. His eyes flared, cheeks heated up, and adrenaline spiked his heart rate. Yuuji had fallen asleep against his shoulder. No kidding this guy could fall asleep anywhere! Versus him who was too wide awake now to even think about it.

The last thing he wanted to do was awaken the sleeping man and make things even more awkward. So, Megumi tried to gently push his friend away to simply rest against the wall. His first several tries failed, but on the fourth, success… briefly.

“Mmm,” Yuuji stirred without waking and shifted on his own to curl up in Megumi’s lap instead!

‘Fuck, my life!’ Megumi screamed in his head. Things just went from bad to a disaster!

Again, Megumi tried to shift the man away, but every time he tried Yuuji would whine.

“Stop moving…” Yuuji mumbled and wrapped his arms around Megumi’s waist, snuggling his face deeper into the man’s leg.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Megumi gritted out in a muffled anger. By now, his whole body felt like it’d been stuck in a furnace and was being roasted alive. Ugh! Yuuji had turned into a damn octopus clinging to its meal! And yet… Megumi had to admit the man was cute as he slept. Geez, he even smiled in his sleep!

Not much he could really do, Megumi exhaled in defeat. So, he did his best to turn off the laptop screen using his foot and shift it close enough to reach. He then grabbed it and placed it onto the nightstand next to the bed, leaving them in a darkened room with only the gentle breathing of Yuuji as any sound. Okay, fine! Megumi counseled himself. Just ignore the fact there’s someone attached to you and try to get some sleep. The faster he went to sleep, the faster the nightmare would end. So, he shifted his body to lie down, then turned over onto his side hoping Yuuji would also readjust.

And the man did, just not in a way Megumi wanted. Yuuji simply snuggled up to his back and weaved an arm around his torso like he was one of those giant stuffed animals you win at a fair! He pushed the arm away, but it sprang back into place.

Megumi screamed in his head. He was so tired… ‘just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it…’

The sound of birds chirping caused Megumi to rouse the next morning. Perfect, his torture was over, it was time to get up— ‘Why was the pillow so hard—’ his eyes opened in a panic as his hand felt the unmistakable sensation of muscle beneath clothing. Without moving an inch only his eyes shifted over and saw the outline of Yuuji’s body lying on his back and he was curled up against his side! ‘Oh, fuck!’

Fight or flight kicked into overdrive as Megumi sprang from the bed like a cat and bolted out of the room. Every nerve ending along his skin was on fire and his mind freaking out, praying Yuuji had slept through it all. ‘This is gonna be so awkward if— What the?!’

As soon as he made it out of the room, Megumi almost ran right smack into Gojo. The man had one hand on Megumi’s bedroom door and the other carried a cursed doll, like the one Yuuji had trained with to practice energy control. “What is that for?”

Realizing he was busted, Gojo slipped the doll behind his back. “Nothing. I was just gonna check on the progress.”

“Uh-huh…” Megumi’s eyebrow raised, instantly suspicious. “Well, let’s just check,” he opened the door himself and walked in. “What’s going on?!” He whipped around. “Are they finished?” Because his room looked exactly like he’d left it the morning before. And he meant exactly!

“Really?!” Gojo pretended to be surprised. “That was quick! Looks like you can move back in. Well, see you at breakfast.”

Gojo turned to leave but Megumi grabbed his shoulder.

“Oi! What the hell?! There was no construction was there you prick?!”

“Nonsense! They must’ve finished yesterday.”

Megumi narrowed a menacing glare at the teacher. “That damn doll was the one making all the noise, wasn’t it?”

“Um… no…”

“And you were about to plant it for a second day!”

“Of course, not! I’m just carrying it around…”

“You’re such a shit liar!”

“Careful Megumi, might wanna keep your voice down lest wake up Yuuji.”

“What do I care if he wakes up now?”

“He’ll find you missing and the bed empty and be sad.” Gojo grinned defiantly then took off in a sprint, cackling like a mad man down the hall.

Bastard pranked him! Megumi screamed as he took off after the man. “I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”

#itafushi week #itafushi #itafushi fan fiction #itafushi fan fic #itadori yuuji #megumi fushiguro #satoru gojo #one bed prompt #fushita

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adultswim2021 · 3 years

Text

Ephemera Week (2002)

Mission Hill (originally aired on WB, 1999-2000)

Mission Hill was a perfectly good animated series from former Simpsons show-runners Bill Oakley and Josh Weinstein. It was a sitcom about cool young people in a cool young people city. Andy French is an aspiring cartoonist, intended to be a Matt Groening type who would (over the course of many many seasons) eventually find success and get his own super-successful animated series called THE SIMPSONS: SEASONS 1-8.

The premise of the show was that Andy’s parents retire and sell the childhood home, displacing his nerdy high-school aged younger brother Kevin. Kevin moves in with Andy and learns how to be a cool city style guy, you know, the kind that’s always “walkin here!” and sucking off Bob Balaban in the men’s room and whatnot.

The show is at least better than the bad seasons of the Simpsons, and has a cool alt-comics style that suits the show really well. Not to damn it with faint praise, it’s a good show. There are a handful of GREAT episodes and plenty of strong jokes. There's news of a revival in the works focusing on Gus and Wally, the older gay couple in the show. It's supposed to take place in the same era the show originally aired in, which is just great.

Like Baby Blues and Home Movies before it, I did catch this show randomly on it's network of origin. I saw one or two of the final episodes to air on WB. I liked it! I was glad to see it get revived for a run on Adult Swim. I've wanted more episodes ever since.

I don't think the show is available for streaming anywhere, which is too bad. It came out on DVD with special features. That DVD set was reissued on DVD-R without special features, so... buyer? be wary. There's also a number of music replacements that ruin some of the scenes. At one point I had a bootleg set where somebody took the DVD video and replaced the audio with the as-broadcast version of of the show. Good luck finding it.

Here's an episode guide showing their debuts on Adult Swim. Bold episodes were originally unaired, making their debut on the channel. Also note: episodes had an innocuous title and a spicier in-house title in parentheses. It’s real Police Squad! shit.

12AM Monday Morning:

May 20: Pilot (or The Douchebag Aspect) May 27: Andy Joins the PTA (or Great Sexpectations) June 3: Kevin's Problem (or Porno for Pyro) June 10: Andy vs. The Real World (or The Big-Ass Viacom Lawsuit) June 17: Andy and Kevin Make a Friend (or One Bang for Two Brothers) June 24: Andy Gets a Promotion (or How to Get Head in Business Without Really Trying) July 1: Kevin vs. the SAT (or Nocturnal Admissions) July 8: Unemployment Part 1 (or Brother's Big Boner) July 15: Unemployment Part 2 (or Theory of the Leisure Ass) July 22: Kevin Finds Love (or Hot for Weirdie) July 29: Stories of Hope and Forgiveness (or Day of the Jackass)

11PM Sunday Night:

August 4: Happy Birthday, Kevin (or Happy Birthday, Douchebag) August 11: Plan 9 from Mission Hill (or I Married a Gay Man from Outer Space)

ALSO NOTE: There are about five episodes that were in early-stages of production and if you poke around you can find scripts for these episodes ( here as of this writing). A full animatic and table read for “Crap Gets In Your Eyes” exists if you search for it.

MAIL BAG

London Arbuckle ASKS! or, states! sorry I’m writing this lead-in without having read the whole message yet.

Another confusing Baffler Meal thing: the deleted cold open that's on the DVD. It gets called back to in the actual episode ("Between two steamed buns", "Nine dollars!? For what?") and provides crucial context, BUT it also gets contradicted in the actual episode (SG sells out for "one serious speaker" instead of owing a restaurant money). Also I remember all the ads for this episode used a clip from the cold open! It always kinda bothered me that they cut it but boys (matt & dave) will be boys!

I do think the cold open is nice and I always make a point to watch it with the episode. In my mind they are as essential as watching that boring Terry Gilliam short before Meaning of Life. The next step is pointlessly editing them together using Nero. Yeah, that’s the ticket

Here’s ANONYMOUS, baby!

It's summertime and we are talking about Adult Swim and I gotta ask when's the last time you've been to a pool. Have you ever in your adult life enjoyed the benefits of an adult swim. Tell us just how much you like splash around. Yes, that would be quite illuminating I'm sure (rolleyes).

Man, when was the last time I went into a pool? It’s been literally years. I think the last time I swam I did a bad job. I am definitely am getting “bad job” vibes off my hazy memories. Man, my memories used to be precious. Damn!

do you think theyll ever work with george lowe again in any major capacity or do you think he's just bad news.

I was about to say “isn’t he on American Dad” based on him name-checking American Dad as one of his many credits but I just looked it up and he was only in one episode. Damn. Somebody give George work he seems nice.

beakman's world, anyone? The wild and wacky world of Paul Zaloom? Hmm? Anyone?

lol you wish...

Baby Blues really was my everything back in the early 2000s, it may not have head the punk rock cred you clearly seem to crave it was a soothing balm for myself as a new father in a scary world (9/11 and all that, terrible stuff).

you raise a good point, that you’re a huge dork “with child” and I’m cool and laughed at 9/11 because it was funny to me, actually

Just read your Baby Blues "take down" and I gotta say: In the immortal words of Mike Francesca, "You're a fool. ho-kay? A total fool."

Uh huh. Yeah okay. Mike Francesca hordes pot bellied pigs in his apartment and lives in filth. He stinks, and so do youd

Baby Blue is like every animation nerd's wet dream. What if they made the rugrats with only the parents part. And here it is. Be careful what you wish for, chunky.

Yeah and it’s too bad because judging from the previous mail bags my audience is primarily made up of BABIES.

#adult swim #mission hill #adultswim2021 #ephemera

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ranger-lcat · 3 years

Text

Mechanic - Part 1

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

As the contracted Cybernetic Expert for the GAR, they’ve called me to Kamino to work. Not the first outpost I’ve been stationed at, but this has the most work. Work in one clone named Echo.

Making friends with the Bad Batch as I help Echo with his cybernetics. Cause I want some soft Batch and hugs for everyone.

Self-Indulgent First-Person Reader Insert

Warnings - Blood, mentions of Blood, medical inaccuracies, technical inaccuracies, PTSD, mentions of past torture, mentions of past human experimentation, panic attacks, needles, surgery, mentions of surgery

-----

Day1 -

Ah, Kamino. I look out over the shuttle area, watching the plethora of clones moving around in the mass of white speckled with colors. Those with me on the shuttle move past, already sure of where they are going. My gaze lands on what I assume is my welcoming party.

Jedi Master Shaak Ti stands near the massive bay doors. Calmly watching the flow, nodding as troopers saluted to her. She smiled softly as I approached.

“Welcome Mrs. Chrys.”

“Thank you General Shaak Ti. Always a pleasure to work with the Republic, circumstances notwithstanding.”

“As I am sure you are anxious to get started, I will have you shown to the room you will be staying in, then to the room you will be working from. The relevant files are in there.”

“I appreciate your efficiency. I will get to work immediately.” I shift my bag of personal belongings. “After I put my bag away.”

“Very well, Trip will show you to your room.”

“Thank you. Can you have all my equipment brought to my workroom?”

“It will be seen too.”

“Thank you.” I nod and follow my clone guide though the doors and into Tipoca City.

I was grateful for the escort. All the halls looked the same. I have no doubt that I would have gotten lost if I was on my own. Trip gestures to the door he’s stopped in front of.

“Your room Ma’am.”

“Thank you. I’ll only be a moment.”

The room offered for me to stay was in the medical wing as usual when working with both the GAR and the Kaminoan. It was small, private, sparse. Bed, personal shower, wardrobe. My personal bag is dropped onto the bed. There would be time to unpack later, after I figured out how long I would be staying. Unpacking was only worthwhile if the stay was going to be longer than three days. I leave to follow my guide to my workroom.

The work room was a large medical room. The smell of disinfectant was sharp and made my nose wrinkle. At least the modifications I’d requested were in place. All the medical equipment was tucked away, leaving space for my tools. New tables set up along one of the walls for even more workspace. Curtain walls that I could move to conceal and reshape the room at will. My personal bags and boxes of tools neatly stacked next to the door. A desk with a data pad was where I started.

There were a dozen files already stored on the data pad. Six of my patients were already on Kamino, the rest were in transit, set to arrive within the next few hours. And there was the promise of more on the way.

It was the standard fare. Hands, arms, legs, cybernetics. An even mix of new and repair. It was the bottom file that was the most interesting.

“Experimental huh.” The file was large. Many modifications but little history. This was gonna be a fun one. They weren’t going to be here for a few days, so that will be something to look forward to. But I’d have to study it later. If I start now, I won't get anything else done.

I pull the most urgent file back to the top. Repairs first. Sending messages out to start arranging meeting times. After the first set was sent, the next task was to rearrange the room and get the tools set up. My bag of tools was waiting to be unpacked.

---

I had enough time to see only a handful of patients. A few fixes. Nothing too hard. Only issue was the one clone, Sparks, who would not sit still. An accident had displaced most of the wiring in his cybernetic arm, and every time he shifted the damaged wires electrocuted everything. I’d gotten shocked three times before threatening to knock him out. He pouted the rest of the time, but was much stiller.

Day2 -

This day was filled from start to finish with appointments. A smattering of repairs to break up the many meetings of clones that needed some form of prothstetic designed for them. The war is rough, and I have mixed feelings about everything happening that I file away to give these men the best.

I go through each appointment in much the same way. A medical clone would bring in my patient. I would smile and begin the script.

Hi. I’m here to construct your new limb.

I need you to put on this sensor sleeve so I can get some nerve readings.

What kind of implants are you comfortable with?

Do you want any custom features?

Hold still while I measure everything.

Then they would leave to go back to the medical wing.

I would sigh and try to get as many notes and thoughts down for that file until the next person was brought in.

At the end of the day I’ve got a pile of data pads with parts lists, nerve readings, diagrams, and general mock ups. I sort through the list, deciding which ones I would be doing in what order. Once that is decided, I focus on hashing out the designs for the first two. Making note of the subtle variations and the requested customizations for each. Finally, I send out the parts request. The Republic liked to handle material management and would provide me what I needed. Hopefully, I would get them quickly.

------

Just an introduction and world building. I promise the boys show up in the next chapter.

#BB - Mechanic #the bad batch #bad batch #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #mine #writing #reader insert #hurt/comfort #recovery

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sunflowerhae · 3 years

Text

Snowflakes ✧･ﾟ:* ♡ *:･ﾟ✧

♡ requested by @ty0ngf

♡ Mark x gn!reader ft. Jaemin

♡ angst, character death, mentions of holidays but nothing specific

♡a.n// ty for the request, I didn’t do Taeyong, as I have a story coming out for him with angst, sometime this summer. If you would like to be tagged, lmk.

♡Requests are open! Request 🧸here🧸

You wanted to make this work. God, more than anything did you want to make this work.

If you could magically brush away the pain, distrust, and anger in yours and Marks relationship, you would do it with no hesitation. You’ll hear from people that the best way to deal with trauma in a relationship is to face it head on; communication is the key to any functioning couple. It’s not like you didn’t know this, it’s not like you didn’t try. Hell, you even moved halfway across the world to make it work. However, you’re soon coming to realize it might take more than a move and a talk to breathe love back into your comfortable-turned-quiet relationship.

It’s become a challenge for you - a task, one might call it - to try and remember the lasts in your relationship. The last kiss, the last hug, the last movie night, the last ‘i love you’, etc, etc. While it was a sad thing, at least it gave you something to do while your boyfriend ignored you and brushed off your attempted affection.

‘It’s been three weeks since the last time we kissed. Or has it been four? I mean, it wasn’t even a kiss, really. Just a peck on the cheek. I’m sure it’s been four. A month ago, righ-“ The harsh sound of a plastic cup you were washing, banging off the counter and onto the floor, pulled you out of your thoughts. With a sigh, you picked up the cup from its displaced spot on the ground and placed it on the drying rack - not even bothering to wash again. Like many times before, you looked around your cold and silent apartment, lost in space. It seemed that lately your thoughts had been your only best friend, but even those turned sour eventually. Everything in your life, it seemed, turned sour.

Just then, the sound of the door opening and the quick beep that usually followed, filled the empty sounds of your home. You walked out of the kitchen and to the foyer, where Mark had already taken off his shoes, and was hanging his jacket up.

“cold out there?” you asked, startling the blank expression on Marks face.

“I suppose, I got a taxi home.” Shanghai was in the middle of winter now, and the snow that graced the ground around your apartment complex was just as cold as what winter generally felt like to you.

You used to love winter. You loved the snow, and cuddling by the fire. You loved hot chocolate, and sweaters, and holiday movies on hallmark. It was cheesy, but winter really was your favorite season.

Was.

Nothing more was said to you. Mark, not expecting anything else, started his trek to the bedroom, where you assumed he would spend the rest of his night.

“I was thinking,” your voice stopped Mark in his tracks, and he turned around with an expecting look, “maybe...we could watch a movie tonight? I saw they’ll be playing How the Grinch Stole Christmas on hallmark, and I don’t know about you, but i’m craving takeout and I thought we could turn on the fire an-“

“I have work.” your small smile dropped, and Mark said nothing else, but instead turned and continued down the hallway.

It angered you, really.

It was Marks idea to move to Shanghai. He said that what your dying relationship needed was a fresh start; somewhere to heal from what happened. You had agreed then, but now you wished you had just let your relationship go. Then, at least, you could be surrounded by people who love and care about you, and you could heal. But now, you’re in a foreign country where you don’t even speak the language, and you’re alone. Even with Mark, you still truly, really alone.

What hurt the most, out of everything, was that you and Mark never even talked about it. You never even yelled, or fought, or cried together.

You were over it.

Following Mark, you paced into the bedroom to find him sitting on the bed, on his phone. He looked at you when you came in, but didn’t keep his attention on you for long; not until you grabbed the phone out of his hand and threw it onto the bed, next to him.

“Y/n, he-“

“Yell at me.” Mark was confused at your words.

“what?”

“Yell at me, Mark. Scream, cry, get red, do anything instead of pushing me away and pretending that what happened didn’t,” the tears came before you let them, and Mark stood up with wide eyes, “I’m tired of playing house and ignoring it! I’m tired of living somewhere that I don’t even speak the language, I’m tired of being alone! If you don’t love me, if you hate me, then okay, i’ll hate me too, more than I do now. But i’ll let you go! Please, tell me if you hate me and let me go. Let me go home! That way, I can at least try to heal, o-or something! Please!”

Mark stood there, contemplating his next move. The silence felt deafening, but in it you realized something. You’re relationship truly was over. You didn’t know what Mark was going to say, but it didn’t really matter. Even if he didn’t hate you, he certainly didn’t love you. This was it.

“I can’t.” He finally whispered.

“...you can’t what?”

“I can’t...bring myself to hate you. I look at you, every day, and I want to hate you. I want to blame you, and despise you, but I know doing that, will only let me pretend for a little longer that what happened wasn’t my fault. That it wasn’t me who...” He trailed off, keeping his eyes to the ground.

“Mark, you’re not completely to blame. We both played a part in it. And you might not hate me, but you certainly don’t love me. I think we’re past trying to, heal whatever this is.” Mark nodded in agreement, and plopped back onto the bed. You slowly walked to where he was, and took a seat next to him.

“do you believe in heaven?” Mark finally asked after minutes of silence. You knew Mark was religious, but, you had never talked about it before. And right now, you didn’t think that anything you could say would make him feel better, so instead you stared out the window to your left. You stared at the snowflakes softly hitting the ground, and as the tears continued to flow, you finally let yourself remember that night.

One Year Ago.

Mark was pissing you off. It wasn’t anything new, but it didn’t mean it bothered you any less. You loved the holidays, and the thing that you loved the most about it, was holiday parties. Something about a group of loved ones gathered in good spirits to celebrate each other, really made you giddy. This one in particular was great, because it was an ugly sweater party, and as a gag gift for your third anniversary, you got Mark and yourself matching ugly sweaters. They were to die for, he had a bright red “ketchup” sweater, and yours was a piss yellow “mustard”. You were so excited to show them off - Mark, however, not so much.

“I just don’t understand why you’re so upset about it!” Another sigh came from your mouth as you continued to stare out the car window and to the snow filled streets. The weather was particularly bad this time of year, and you couldn’t even see anything besides the road in front of you and the hazy glow from street lights. It would make someone nervous, had they not grown up around it like you had.

“I’m upset, because I bought ugly sweaters and it’s an ugly sweater party! I don’t get why you’re so embarrassed!” You reasoned with Mark, who refused to wear his ketchup sweater, opting instead for a normal patterned one.

“I don’t even like ketchup! Why’d you give that one to me?”

“Because it’s funny! Right Jaemin?” You turned to look at your friend who currently occupied the backseat of your car. Mark and you only lived across the street from Jaemin, so it made sense to carpool to a party you were all attending. Jaemin, however, began to regret it when you and Mark began to argue.

“No, no, no, don’t bring him into this! Keep my friends out of our business!” You huffed Marks way with an eyeroll as you situated yourself back into your seat.

“Our friends” You corrected Mark under your breath.

“what?”

“I said OUR friends. I hate when you gatekeep the guys.” It was Marks turn to roll his eyes.

“I’m not gatekeeping, i’m just saying.”

“saying what?”

“Well, I mean look at it like this - if we broke up, I would get the guys.”

You looked at Mark in surprise, and even Jaemin could tell this wouldn’t end well.

“If we broke up, huh? You think we’ll break up?”

“What? No-“

“-Over ugly sweaters -“

“ -Y/n, what are you talking about no -“ Mark turned to look at you, as you both started talking over the other in the stupidest fight Jaemin had ever encountered. He could tell one of you struck a chord with the other, and he looked on in horror as he saw what was about to happen while the two of you fought.

Mark had swerved just a bit, he promised up and down that he only took his eyes off the road for maybe a couple seconds. Unfortunately, that’s all the time it needed.

“MARK, WATCH OUT-“

The car had been T-boned on the drivers side, right where Jaemin had been sitting.

He never stood a chance.

You dragged your eyes away from the snow, trying again to forget, and to the side of your partners face, where you found that he was already looking at you with tears forming in his eyes. Wordlessly, you pulled him into a hug, and let his sobs stain your shoulder as yours did his.

Mark was running. He was running from Jaemins death, someone younger than him who had so much life left to live. He was running from dealing with the truth that he was somewhat to blame, and more importantly - Mark was running from what you thought of him. He didn’t want to know, he wanted to pretend that you two hated each other, so that it would be easier to let go.

But you were right, it wasn’t just him that killed Jaemin, and it wasn’t just you. The sooner you two learned that, the sooner you could begin to move on. It wouldn’t be easy, and you know at this point that the most you could get out of Mark is a friendship through shared trauma, but that was okay with you. You were tired of fighting, and tired of wanting to make this work. You just wanted to move on, god, did you want to move on.

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luckyspacerabbit · 3 years

Text

Surpassing a Dream

yet another shrios drabble bc im a :(

Pairing: Thane Krios/f!Shepard

Rating: G

Words: 1124

Warnings: none

Summary: Thane and Shepard, alongside their pet cat, share a sweet little moment of reflection after the events of ME2 in their beautiful desert apartment.

Ao3

**************************

“Will you be joining me, Siha?” Thane asked, peering over the edge of the couch.

He only received a light laugh in response, Dan Hyun hopping from foot to foot in the kitchen as she entertained the animal at her feet. It was hard to resist smiling when Ba’s paw managed to collide with Dan Hyun’s pink slipper. She always seemed so proud of herself when she succeeded.

“Wait! I’m playing with your child…”

Lying his arm against the back of the pillows, Thane settled in, allowing his cheek to rest upon it as he watched his Siha crouch to coo at Ba. It was hard to believe what time had made of her, the sandpaper scars faded and powerful muscle turned soft. No longer was she the discarded waif she had been on their first meeting. Against all adversity, she’d bloomed through trials of fire, with thick protective vines and velvet soft petals. How ironic that the Usharet that incited their first meeting would be the very thing she resembled now.

But perhaps not. Arashu has been known to have a deep appreciation for romance.

“Thinking again?”

Her words pulled him from his musings and he met her gaze through white fur, Ba’s tail acting as a mask for Dan Hyun’s lower face. The former Commander cradled the cat over her shoulder, purs emanating as Thane chuckled at the sight.

“Imparting my thanks to our great mother for the precious gift of being able to witness your battle with Ba.”

She blushed lightly. “Battle, huh? And who do you think won?”

A small smile spread itself over his face as Dan Hyun scaled the arm of the couch, sliding neatly between his legs. It only took a moment of adjustment before she was curled against him, boxy nose nuzzling into his chest. Ba, displaced from her position, slipped to the side with a mewl, eyes large with betrayal. It seemed she had expected to be the one spooned.

“It was a very close match,” he threaded his fingers through her short hair, the texture as soft as that of a cloud. He wondered how he had gone so many years without knowing the feeling. “In the end, though, it must have been a tie.”

His skin lit with warmth as short fingers caught his chin and cheeks, Dan Hyun’s glowing browns locking him into her atmosphere.

“Tie! Again, jagiya? I’ll just have to improve my footwork next time. You too, Ba!” She looked to their scottish fold, who had made herself comfortable on the adjacent ottoman. “No more lounging in the sun all day like your Pitar.” A sharp toothed yawn was her only reply.

Thane’s chest felt full as he turned his attention back to the woman in his lap, allowing his hands to center on her waist after their journey across her abdomen. His pads pressed into the soft expanse of skin exposed between her tank top and her sweats, soaking the immense heat of her body into his cool scales.

He could feel a shiver run down his back, tickling him with pleasure.

“Siha…” he mumbled, eyelids drooping as his lover trailed a thumb down his cheek. “You have no idea how much I cherish these moments.”

He felt her forehead against his, radiating warmth alongside her chuckle.

“Moments… like sharing our evenings together? I can imagine a little…” his eyes opened enough to catch her swallow as he pulled her closer, joining them by the hips. She let a breath escape her with a shining smile, leaning into his hold.

“I’m so thankful that it was you at the top of those towers,” she whispered, nose wrinkling. “Even though you were ‘using’ me.”

He laughed softly, recalling his snippy battlefield manners.

“I was in need of a distraction…” his gaze trained on hers before he let them drop to her lips. “You offer plenty.”

She flushed beneath her freckles, eyelashes fluttering in emotion. It didn’t matter how long it had been since their early days of romance and courtship, she always reacted as if it were the first.

The feeling inspired Thane to take a full breath, his chest expanding without struggle as Dan Hyun leaned in, the corners of her mouth tilted up. His eyes slid closed when hot breath ghosted over his lips, hands tightening on her pedastled hips.

No dream could have ever come close to capturing the sweetness of her lips.

Its pillowy form caressed his own with compassion, each gift of contact a drop of mercy from the gods above.

With taut muscles he held her in place against him, skin tingling as her fingers curled around his neck and chin, searching for the pleasurable dips and ridges that made Thane shudder in excitement. He caught her bottom lip in his, grazing his teeth as he pulled, Dan Hyun’s soft mewl encouraging him further as she twisted to get even closer, despite his steadfast hands.

The velocity of their rhythm had increased without intention, seconds blurring by where all he saw was her, dark hair stroking his cheeks like they were stoking a flame.

All coming to a crashing halt when a shatter pierced their sanctimonious bubble.

Thane reacted first, breaking away from Dan Hyun to search the room for the source of the noise. What he saw was the quick ringed tail of Ba, disappearing around the corner as her paws pattered towards their bedroom.

“Aish, not again,” Dan Hyun sighed, though her flushed smile betrayed any semblance of annoyance. Her eyes closed with fondness as he pecked her nose, gently removing her from the tangle of their bodies.

“I’ll take care of it.”

She gaped at him from her seat on the couch, hair flying alongside her shining eyes.

“But, we can always clean up later!”

Thane stood while rolling his shoulders, turning back to his angel with a smile. In a flash, he used two fingers to capture her chin, hovering an inch from her lips.

“Be patient, Siha. It won’t take more than a moment.”

He found great amusement and pleasure how she reddened and snorted, batting him away with a mumble.

And as he departed the cushions and protectiveness of their space, a haze of warmth and dreamlike colors trailed after the corners of his vision with pink petaled tints.

Thane knew better, though.

It wasn’t a dream that he was reciting, or conjuring from the far reaches of his mind.

It was his life.

One that he had bled for, mourned the loss of, and restarted several times over.

Yet after it all he stood, in a kitchen, surrounded by broken pieces of ceramic, his partner lounging several feet away, eagerly awaiting his return.

Was there anything more that he could have asked for?

#shrios #my writing #fanfic #drabbles #thane krios #f!shepard #ship: a dream worth living for #dan hyun shepard #featuring BA #im gonna draw them hehehehehehe #soon #mass effect #mass effect 2 #mass effect fanfic

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anavkourfic · 3 years

Text

here’s an excerpt from the scrapped first chapter of no place for firestarters! the only issue with it is that it’s in the wrong pov—originally, i wanted to write this story as switching between lio and galo’s points of view and started out with a galo chapter, then decided to make everything in lio’s pov, rendering this chapter in its current form unusable.

anyway, here it is!

***

Galo works forty-eight hours straight after the Parnassus falls.

It’s a whirlwind. Galo barely has time to give Lio a celebratory fistbump before they leap into rescue operations. The crew splits up: Remi, Varys, and Lucia go out into the city to do search and rescue on the crash site; Galo, Aina, Ignis, and Lio stay in the cire to get the Burnish out of the Promatech pods. They free Lio’s generals first, both of whom hug him so tightly Galo’s surprised his spine doesn’t snap, then move on from there.

Galo learns a lot of things in this process: that the burnish all seem to know and care deeply about Lio, that the pods weren’t designed to be reopened, that even though Heris Ardebeit is helping them with the rescue effort, she still can’t see what she’d done wrong. Ignis eventually escorts her elsewhere, out of range of Lio, Galo, and Aina’s combined fury.

Though, that fury is nothing compared to the look in Lio’s eyes when they get to the first empty pod.

Galo thinks at first that someone has already emptied this one—they have civilian EMTs helping as well, spread out through the engine to cover as much ground as possible—until he sees that the arm and leg cuffs are still closed and intact. They’re thick, so it usually takes monster bolt cutters or the jaws of life to cut them, but these haven’t been touched. It doesn’t make sense, unless someone managed to slip free. Which, also difficult, since the cuffs have been tight enough that it’s hard to clip them without also cutting the person they’re trying to free.

“Did they put in empty pods?” he says, scratching the side of his head. The generator behind them sputters, echoing along with the many others in the cavernous space. “It doesn’t look like there’s anyone–“

“Stop.”

Lio’s voice is sharp, and Galo stops immediately. He sees that Lio’s looking down at the floor of the pod and—oh. Oh. There’s a pile of ash on the floor. Galo’s mind goes back to the cave, to Thyma, and oh. Shit.

“Serial numbers,” Lio barks, whirling around to where Aina’s helping a Burnish to the stairs of the scaffolding “Do the pods have them?”

Aina balks for a second [Galo would too in her position; Lio looks almost like he did with the dragon, minus the colour palette change and the flaming hair.] but she says, “I’ll ask Heris. She’s in medical, and I’m headed there anyway.”

“I d-didn’t see anything,” the Burnish says. She doesn’t look that much older than Lio, but Galo has no concept of how the Burnish age; they could be twenty, or sixty. “Sorry, boss.”

Lio’s expression immediately softens. “It’s alright, Alexis, I wouldn’t have expected you to.”

“I want to help,” she insists. Galo notices her legs are trembling; she’s on the verge of collapsing, but she’s still giving Lio a fierce stare. “Please, I want to help–“

“You need to recover first,” Lio shuts her down. “Talk to me again when you’ve gotten some sleep and you’ve eaten something.”

Alexis gives him a noodley salute, and then Aina helps her down the stairs. Lio watches her go, then turns to the pod again. His hands clench into fists.

"Do you need me to get something to write stuff down with?" Galo asks tentatively. "If there are numbers. Or anything else?"

Lio doesn't respond for a long moment, but then he nods once, and Galo runs off.

It sucks. There's probably a stronger word for it, but Galo's brain is too foggy to come up with something more eloquent. So he just mutters, "This sucks. This fucking sucks," as he looks for a notepad.

The pods do have numbers; Heris says they're "for inventory" [Lio's jaw clenches so tightly Galo hears it click shut] and that there's "subject data for each one." Lio logs each number in a pocket-sized notebook, strings strands of caution tape that Galo found in the back of Burning Rescue's truck across the entrance to each pod, to make sure no one tries to step in.

"We need....urns, or something," Galo says to Ignis, when he's taking a water break and explaining the situation."Lio keeps talking about a mass grave, but I can tell he doesn't like it."

"I'll see what I can do," Ignis's face is unreadable behind his sunglasses. He's been assigned the leader of rescue efforts, meaning he gets to deal with all the bureaucratic and organizational stuff that makes Galo dizzy. "There are a few favours I can call in."

When he relays this to Lio, he gets back a "Nothing happens without my say-so," and then, a few minutes later, a very quiet, "Thank you."

Getting everyone out of the core takes up the first twenty-four hours, and then Galo suits up to help with search and rescue. Turns out that a giant spaceship falling out of the sky from several hundred feet can cause damage in a pretty large radius. He finds and frees people in fallen buildings, in piles of rubble, in the cavernous cracks around the Parnassus's launch site. And then there's the non-people related things: flooding because of burst pipes all over the city, a couple fires from damaged electrical equipment, a terrifying gas leak that nearly causes an explosion by the main medical tents. There's so much damage, and so many casualties, it makes Galo's chest ache if he thinks about it too long.

He sees Lio in bursts—working to help clear ground to set up tents for displaced people and the Burnish, talking with a group of medics from the nearby hospital, giving orders to a mixed group of volunteers and Burnish who are well enough to help. Galo grins and waves to him when he can, feels like he’s walking on clouds when he gets a half-smile and a wave in return.

After two days, Ignis calls all of Burning Rescue into a tent for a meeting.

“The SAR teams from the next cities over came in about an hour ago,” He says. “That means we’re off shift. Seventy-two hour mandatory rest time. No exceptions.”

Galo would normally argue, but the exhaustion’s starting to set in, and the numbers are adding up in his head—two full days of rescue work, ten hours from Lio's dragon to the Promare going back home, a week or so in Kray's prison. Galo's not great at math, especially when he's tired, but however many hours it's been, he hasn't gotten decent rest in a while. And not getting decent rest means he’s nowhere near a decent rescuer.

The rest of the team seems to share the same sentiment. No one argues. Ignis claps his hands.

“Let’s pack up. Galo–“

Galo snaps to attention.

“Sir!”

“Bring me Fotia and his generals. I need to ask them something before we go.”

“Yessir!”

The group disperses. Galo stops by the supply tent to grab a water bottle for Lio, chugs one himself before going out to find Lio and the others.

He doesn’t have to look far. He pushes aside the tent flap and runs directly into something skinny and green. Said skinny green thing yelps and then, with a whirl of motion, Galo's on the ground, flat on his back, and there's a very pointy boot in the middle of his chest. Galo beams.

"Lio! I was looking for you!"

Lio blinks, then seems to realize what happened and leaps back. "Fuck, sorry, sorry." He's still not wearing a shirt, and he looks cold, shaking just a little.

"No, it's fine!" Galo picks himself back up, wincing a little. That didn't do any favours to his bruises from the fight with Kray, or the other fight with Kray, or the time he fell off the Parnassus, or the other time he fell off the Parnassus. [It was a significant pile of rubble.] "Didn't mean to startle you. Do you judo-flip everyone you run into?"

"No," Lio ducks his head, the faint hint of a blush high on his cheekbones. It's cute, actually. Galo's brain short-circuits for a hot sec before he remembers what he was doing.

"Oh! I got you some water," He offers the bottle. "Though, that's probably why you were going in there, huh?"

"It was," Lio takes it. "Thank you."

He tries to open it, but his hands are too shaky. Galo reaches out to help.

"Here, let me–"

"I'm perfectly capable of doing this myself," Lio replies stiffly. The blush has spread to his ears now. He's embarrassed, and Galo would find it adorable if Lio wasn't also so frustrated."

"Doesn't mean you have to," Galo says. "Plus, your hands look pretty busted."

Lio looks down at one palm, torn and blistered. His fingers tense, just a little bit, like he's expecting something to happen. Galo realizes he's trying to call the fire to his hands, to heal the cuts. There's a flash of pain in his eyes, then he drops his hand and shoves the water bottle in Galo's direction. "Fine."

Galo cracks it open with only a little bit of fumbling. ["Wow, these caps are actually tighter than I thought." "The indomitable Galo Thymos, bested by a water bottle..." "Hey, I can do this, just give me a minute!"] Lio accepts it with another quiet thank-you.

#excerpt #promare #npffs #my writing

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solarwindswriting · 3 years

Text

Oh, The Places You’ll Go

Chapter 3

First Chapter / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Loosely inspired by the song Greek Tragedy by the Wombats

Pairing: Scotty x FemalePresenting!Reader

Word Count: 1411

Summary: On to the Enterprise we go!

Warnings: none that I can think of

A/N: I posted this to the wrong account at first ahhhh. Sooo, this is going to be a bit of a slow burn. But I’ve already written up to part 6 and will be posting one part a day!

Tags: @mournthewicked @damalseer

Y/n wakes up to the most obnoxious beeping sounds. With a groan, she turns off the alarm, rubbing her eyes awake. Sitting up, Y/n looks around the room. Still dark outside. ‘Why am I up? Oh, right!’ Y/n thought to herself. Jumping out of bed, she clutches her dresser, bracing herself from falling. Dizzy, very very dizzy. She drank too much last night. Walking into the bathroom, and regretting turning on the light, Y/n got ready for the day. Washing off the grim from the last two days, Y/n relishes the warm water on her back. This will probably be the last time she gets to take a long shower.

Y/n is smoothing out her type b uniform shirt when she hears a knock at the door. The door was open by the time she got there and in the doorway stood Sara in her bright golden uniform shirt, a just as bright smile and a duffle across her back.

“You ready for the rest of your life, Y/n?” Sara rocks on her heels.

Still a bit groggy, Y/n hums to her friend while reaching for her own duffle, “How are you so awake? It’s 6:30 in the morning.”

“Because I’m already two cups of coffee in. Have you had breakfast?” Sara questions as the two make their way down the steps of their apartment.

“No, you’re not supposed to eat before a shuttle transport. You know that.” Y/n chuckles.

The two walk in comfortable silence. The train station was unsurprisingly quiet as they take their seats on the way to the shuttle bay.

“The new Enterprise is less than a year old. It’s outfitted with all the new shiny toys. I’m very excited to see the bridge. I heard they used a new transparent aluminum alloy for the main viewport that’s clearer than ever before.” Sara muses while watching the buildings pass.

A voice overhead announces we are arriving at the Federation shuttle bay. Y/n and Sara stand to leave. The train comes to a stop and the sliding doors open. Climbing up the stairs reveals a bustling hanger full of recruits.

“Sara, Y/n!” Calls the Russian accent of one Pavel Chekov. “This way!” He signals to follow him.

The two sprint to catch up to Pavel and separate into one of the Enterprise transport shuttles of their respective departments. Strapping her bag above them, Y/n takes a seat next to Commander Spock. People continue to file in. After about 30 minutes, 7 shuttles transport the entirety of the 450 person crew aboard the Enterprise.

“New Science Officers, please follow me,” Spock speaks clearly as he stands from his seat. Returning crew follows him out of the shuttle while the new members scurry to retrieve their bags. 5 new science officers in total exit the shuttle last, following Spock through the hallways.

“First, I will show you the 14 science labs and who will be heading them. Each one will have a specific topic of research, but all will help another when needed,” Spock drones while tapping a datapad. “Secondly, I will show you to your quarters.”

The halls of the Enterprise were bright white and smelled of mild cleaning supplies. They file into a turbo lift to deck 5. Y/n peaks at the other 4 new members of the science crew and notices she is the only one who has a rank higher than Ensign. Stepping off the turbo lift, The group makes their way down a hallway when Commander Spock stops.

“This is Lab 1; which will focus on stellar cartography as we travel deeper into space. It will be lead be Leuitenant Viann.” Spock motions towards the lab.

Inside stands a slender Vulcan setting up his lab. Spock continues to introduce the different labs and leaders, which Y/n quickly loses track of and begins to zone out. That is until Commander Spock says her name.

“To repeat myself, since Lieutenant Junior Grade Y/l/n has decided to check back in. Lab 13, focused on Bio-mimetic Gel and other potential medical substances, lead by one Lieutenant Junior Grade Y/l/n.”

“Yes, sorry Commander.” Y/n apologizes, now fully attentive.

“And lastly,” Spock continues to walk. “Lab 14, focused on gravimetric field displacement manifold, lead by Lieutenant Commander Montgomery Scott.”

Y/n looks into the lab and makes eye contact with Scotty, who gives her a small wave and a smile. She does the same. Spock goes back down the same hallway they just came from to lead the new crew towards their quarters. Y/n follows from the back, stopping for a second to look into the lab she will be working in. Far more state of the art than what she has been working in. Her studies will progress much fast on here.

Spock shows them to Deck 8, where they will be living for the next 5 years. The new ship supports enough room for every crew member to have their own room. Y/n throws her duffle onto her bed and unzips it to put her few civilian clothes into the closet that had 5 changes of uniform already hanging. A knock on the door echoed as Y/n hung her royal blue dress up.

“Come in,” Y/n calls over her shoulder.

The door slides open revealing a younger crewmate no older than 20 who quickly salutes. “Ma’am, Lieutenant Commander Scott requests your presence in Lab 14.”

“Thank you, but I am not high enough rank for you to be saluting, and I’m not old enough to be called ma’am,” Y/n chuckles, reaching out her arm. “What’s your name? I’m Y/l/n.”

“Very sorry, ma-, Y/l/n. I am Jason Reed.” He shakily takes her hand.

“First ship? Me too.” Y/n laments while she follows the ensign out of her room after grabbing her datapad. “Did Lieutenant Command Scott mention why he was requesting my assistance?”

“He mentioned something about some gel being delivered to the wrong lab?” Reed’s face contorted as he tried hard to remember his exact words.

“Huh, okay. Thank you for showing me the way. Lord knows I’ll be lost for the first month on here.” This causes Ensign Reed to chuckle.

The turbo lift doors open to Deck 5 and a slightly sweaty Scotty.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” Scotty huffs, “can you tell me why 5 crates of highly volatile goo were delivered to my lab?”

“Thank you for the escort, Reed. I believe I can find the way from here,” Y/n smiles at the ensign as the doors to the lift close after stepping out. “As for why the bio-mimetic gel was delivered to lab 14 instead of 13, I have no idea. But I’m happy to help you move it to my lab.”

“Well, let’s get going then, Lass,” Scotty says, turning and walking towards the labs.

“How does an engineer get access to a whole lab anyways?” Y/n questions.

“I came up with a fancy equation. How’d a Lieutenant Junior Grade get access to a whole lab?” Scotty’s accent was thick, but not as thick as it was when he was drinking.

“I came up with a fancy equation too,” Y/n laughs at herself repeating what the engineer had said.

After about half an hour of carefully moving crates of bio-mimetic gel, the two were finished.

“Sorry about the mix-up, Commander. It won’t happen again.” Y/n said, wiping her hands on the sides of her pants.

“I thought I told you to call me Scotty, lass.” Scotty remarks as he enters Lab 13 with two teacups, handing one to Y/n, “Earl Grey.”

“Thank you,” Y/n whispers, setting it down to hop up and sit on the lab table before picking it back up and taking a sip. “Please sit.”

Scotty sits in one of the chairs surrounding the lab table in front of Y/n. They both sip their tea in silence until Y/n speaks.

“So, I heard you were marooned on Delta Vega for half an Earth year.”

“Marooned!?” Scotty gawks as he sits up straight. “I was left for dead! You beam one beagle off-planet and you’re left for the drakoulias’.”

“Did you ever find it?” Y/n laughs at the engineer’s outburst.

“No,” Scotty whispers.

“Hm?”

“No! I never found that damn beagle.” Scotty laughs.

#scotty x reader #montgomery scott x reader #montgomery scott aos #montgomery scott imagine #star trek aos #solarwindswriting

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