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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝟒. ♡ 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

"Hi! I hope u have a lovely day :] I was wondering if I could request an imagine where you're online friends with Gogy and one day you send him a picture wearing his merch and he can't stop thinking about it and finally ends up telling you he has a crush on you?? Thank you in advance :] I really enjoy your writing"

pairing: georgenotfound x reader

warnings: Zoom Video Communications none :)

links: | ao3 | request | masterlist |

⋆ song recommendation: Slowly by Josh Gilligan

(streamer bf gogy brainrot brrr) hello sweet anon! thank you for much for this request :) I love love love all the geo simps and their ideas. also thank you to my dearest LB for helping me with the plot help. happy reading, everyone! ♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

You tapped your fingers on your desk, nails clattering at you waiting to be let into your third Zoom meeting of the day. Usually, you got off with only one lecture, but because of upcoming exams, you were finding yourself in and out of virtual meetings and office hours. Sure, it was better than jogging from building to building, fighting the crowds, and searching for a seat in a packed lecture hall, but it was still wearing you down beyond belief.

You rested your chin in your hand as your window went from white to dark grey, the square with your name getting wedged in beside the professor. Everyone’s cameras were off, a thankful sigh leaving your lips as your head slumped down to lay against your arm, the danger of falling asleep suddenly becoming more prominent.

You jumped slightly as your professor cleared their throat, sharing their screen and beginning to ramble off facts listed on the slideshow. You played with your keyboard, focused on removing a crumb from beneath your spacebar that was almost unreachable. You usually took notes in the class, but today was just one of those days.

“... And with that in mind, I’m going to put you all into breakout rooms…” Your professor trailed off, eyebrows furrowed as they peered at their screen and clicked frantically to assign all of you to rooms. You yawned, smacking your cheeks and sitting up. You were determined not to be a shitty partner, at least. The white box popped up, inviting you to join breakout room four. That’s always lucky, you thought to yourself as you joined.

Once again, you were cursed to look at the buffering wheel of death as your internet struggled to sustain all your opened tabs. Please, just a little longer, you groaned internally, eyes dashing towards the receiver and exhaling in relief as your computer connected to the breakout room. You turned on your camera, eliciting your partner, George, to do the same.

You flashed him a smile as you struggled to open the article from the previous night. “Hi! How’s it going?” You greeted, not yet looking at him.

“I’m good, actually. How are you?” He engaged, his voice deep and tired.

You finally managed to split your screen enough so that you could see him and the article. “Yeah, I’m good too. Thanks,” you chewed the inside of your cheek, eyes skimming some of the notes you’d etched into the margins. “So, did you have any idea what,” you paused, squinting at the author’s name, “Robert A. Schneider means when he discusses how ‘men of letters’ fear the lower class more than anything?” You asked, as your eyes trailed across your screen to finally gauge his reaction, you were taken aback by his appearance.

His soft features and dark eyes made you feel safe. As he smiled softly, running his fingers into his hair, he seemed to be racking his brain for an answer. He opened his mouth to begin, detailing what you had previously thought with better articulation.

The two of you got through the basic questions the professor had scripted for the students, then finding yourself still stuck in the breakout room. On a normal day, your professor would have pulled everyone back into the call after the first few questions.

George swiveled in his chair quietly as he listened to you briefly explain your area of study. His kind smile made your heart flutter slightly. Deep down, you hoped the two of you would be stuck in the room for a while.

Soon your topics blended into what kind of movies you both watched, a debate on where you could buy the cheapest bread on campus, and what kind of party people the two of you were. After an hour, instead of worrying whether or not your professor was dead, you were swapping numbers and planning out how the two of you would turn the Florida Keys into the headquarters of your new cult where the members would all worship a separate bitchy philosopher.

You pulled one of your legs to your chest, resting your cheek against your knee as his laughing died out. “Okay, this might be a weird question, but I need to know why your webcam is so clear. Is it like an OnlyFans thing or…”

He chuckled. “Yeah it’s definitely OnlyFans,” he joked, making you laugh. “I’m actually a ᵐⁱⁿᵉᶜʳᵃᶠᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ” he mumbled.

Your eyebrows perked playfully. “You’re a what?”

He pursed his lips to fit the grin stretching across his face. “ᵃ ᵐⁱⁿᵉᶜʳᵃᶠᵗ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐᵉʳ”

You snorted slightly. “Sorry darling, you’ll have to speak up. What was that?”

He wet his lips, rolling his eyes as he bashfully groaned. “I’m a Minecraft streamer.”

You giggled, him basking in your disbelief. He smiled a bit brighter as he shrugged, leaning back in his chair as you rambled off questions. “There’s no way! Nerd!” you chaffed, making him smile as if he liked it when you playfully teased him. “Are you super popular?” You asked, catching your breath.

He bit his bottom lip swaying his head slightly as if deciding not to answer. “Mmmm. Not really.”

“Well, come on, Georgios! Give me your Twitch user and I’ll be your biggest fan, I promise.” He laughed at your response, digging out his phone to send you a link.

“I’d like to see you try,” he mumbled.

After the class had finally ended, you’d learned that your professor was on the phone with their credit card company. In the following weeks, you and George were in constant contact, even becoming part of each other’s daily routines.

As you studied for finals, you’d turn on his stream, letting his voice alleviate some of the stress of your exams. He knew you were watching and would even drop hints for you in what he was saying, or he’d blatantly just ask what you were talking about in your essay for a certain class. After the stream would end, he’d call you either on Discord or the phone, just so it felt like the two of you were studying together.

Jokingly, you badgered him to send you some of his merch, threatening to buy it from a bootleg online store if he didn’t. He had only brushed it off at the time, but shortly after, you received a hoodie in the mail with his gamer tag printed across it.

It was late at night when you’d received it, the tiredness of your eyes and George’s dulcet tones lulling you towards the idea of a dead sleep. Yet, you were drawn from your pleasant relaxation with the shrilling of your doorbell. You shrugged out of your blanket cocoon, grabbing your phone and trudging down the stairs. As you tore open the bag, your phone buzzed with a text from George asking if you’d seen something that one of his chat members. You chuckled softly and dug your hand into the material, holding it out in front of you.

You snickered to yourself, running your fingers across the red patch in the center. You slipped it over your head, letting the softness of the fabric brush against your skin. You snapped a photo of yourself and stumbled back upstairs before sending it to him.

When you returned, George was focused on something he was crafting. His eyes darted down to one corner of the screen where his phone was probably sitting. His eyes flashed back up with a smug grin on his face as if he knew exactly what you were going to say. Your “Thanks sugar daddy xx,” probably didn’t help either.

“What, chat?” His voice came out slightly uneven as he bit back a smile. You skimmed what people were asking. “It’s not a nude. A friend of mine got something I sent them,” he answered nonchalantly, finishing up what he was doing. The chat began to spam quietly. “No, it’s not a maid costume. Jesus Christ.” He leaned back in his chair, grabbing his phone and opening your message.

A grin spread across his face, alongside the light dusting of rosy pigment settling in his cheeks. He chuckled to himself, quickly replying before getting back to his game. You scoffed at his response.

George (H325) Anything for my silly little baka

You curled up again, putting away your schoolwork and devoting your attention to watching his stream as you drifted off to sleep.

Once again, you found yourself at the mercy of your internet as you attempted to join the breakout room assigned to you. You almost jumped out of your chair when it finally connected and you found George waiting for you. You smiled slightly as he scrolled through his phone. “What are the chances?” You asked, pulling his eyes to you.

He grinned, clicking off whatever he was looking at. “I was just about to raid your inbox.”

You chuckled. “I almost wore your merch to class, just to out you to whoever my partner was,” you joked, making him roll his eyes.

“I’m glad it’s me then,” he responded. You began scrounging around for your article. After a beat of hesitation, George spoke up again. “Hey, I’m glad you like the sweatshirt…” You perked an eyebrow in his direction. “I actually haven’t been able to get that picture out of my head. I know it’s stupid,” he stated lightly, chuckling nervously. You could feel your heart beating in your ears. “It’s so lame, but I think I have a crush on you.”

You sat back in your chair, stunned. “I mean, the feeling’s mutual. Even if it’s lame,” you mirrored, winking at him. “I mean, maybe it’s not lame because I know I like you.”

He smiled to himself at your answer before chuckling, “Should we Zoom date or something?”

#georgenotfound headcanons #georgenotfound x y/n #georgenotfound fluff #georgenotfound x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff #mcyt imagine #college au #gnf x reader #gnf brainrot #gnf my beloved #gnf x y/n

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years

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number eleven : s.r

a serial killer is at large in atlana, carving numbers into his victims and throwing their bodies from rooftops. yet, things seem to hit a little too close to home for your liking, and sadly you get caught up in it all (4.2k)

( this is an original idea of mine, I’ve gone based off what I know in the show but the killer is made up! pls do not steal my concept without at least asking, and i hope you enjoy :) )

“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”

“Please, let her go!” You can hear the crack in his voice as his gun shakes in his grip, his eyes not leaving yours as tears pool. “You don’t have to do this, there’s another choice for you.”

The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”

Two Days Earlier

“Hey, Spencer,” You smile as you walk through the doors to the bullpen, two cups of coffee in hand as you place onto his desk. “how was the Doctor Who convention?”

Out of everyone in the team, you were the only one to pay attention to the small details Spencer shares. You always have done, ever since you first joined the BAU, you noticed the subtle eye rolls as he rambled on with facts and statistics so you made sure to always pay attention.

Lifting his head up, Spencer can feel a smile tugging his lips as you take a seat at your desk adjacent to his. “You would’ve loved it. They had the original designs from the Cybermen’s first appearance in 1966, ‘The Tenth Planet’ and for the time, it was high tech stuff.” He explains whilst you listen contently, oblivious to the others watching you both.

“God, they’re so into each other it hurts.” Emily sighs as Penelope nods along.

JJ walks over to the girls, catching sight of what they’re fixated on. “Why can’t they just say something? I mean, it’s been three years.” Penelope questions, but JJ simply chuckles.

“This is Spencer and Y/n we’re talking about.” JJ comments. “For one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, Spencer can be stupid sometimes.” She states, returning her focus to how you look at Spencer as he talks, but also how willing Spencer is to be close to you and laughs at your input in between his rambles.

“I bet twenty dollars he’ll say something by the end of the year.” Rossi chimes in, but Emily scoffs.

“Dream on, Rossi.” She comments, but Rossi shrugs his shoulders.

Hotch exits his office, catching a glance from the girls who quickly stand up straight. “We’ve got a new case,” He announces, passing between you and Spencer on the way.

As you all enter the board room, you sit beside Spencer as you look at the tablet in front of you whilst he sticks to the original file.

“Within the past few months in Atlanta, Georgia, at least nine women have been found dead having fallen from rooftops, all in their twenties, latest victim was Caroline Kutes, twenty-three. Last seen having gone for a run after her shift at a local diner.” Penelope explains as you scroll through the images, seeing what was left of them from the crime scene.

“It’s not some suicide pack, is it?” Morgan speaks up, but Penelope shakes her head.

“I’m glad you asked, sugar.” She turns her back as she pulls up more images, displaying the victims left forearms.

“Numbers?” You question, zooming in onto the number three having been carved into the victim's flesh. “Someone’s keeping track.”

“So we know there are nine confirmed victims of this unsub then, it’s not a suicide pack.” Hotch states. “The police have requested our insight on the case, wheels up in thirty.”

Closing the tablet you push your chair back. “You alright?” Spencer asks you as everyone begins to file out.

You force a small smile, nodding. “Yeah, just some cases are never easy.” You mutter before heading out and grabbing your things.

Arriving straight to the latest crime scene, Hotch splits the team up. “Prentiss, I want you and Morgan to go to the rooftop, see if there’s anything left by the unsub or Caroline Kutes. Reid, Y/L/N, go to the morgue to take a look at the carvings and if there’s any other sign of torture.”

With that, you climb into a car with Spencer, looking at the drop from the building to where Hotch stands. “One hell of a fall.” You whistle as the driver pulls away, Spencer not missing your comment or how you’ve been wiping your hands over your pants since you arrived.

Standing in the morgue, Spencer took the lead as you stood back whilst bodies were examined. “There isn’t any sign of sexual assault on any of the women, but there are bruises across the neck and the carvings on the arm.” The diener explains. “From the fall she suffered several broken bones, a collapsed lung and a crack to her skull along with internal bleeding.”

“Are you saying she was alive when she hit the ground?” You speak up, stepping closer to see how they’ve managed to clean up the victims face, what remains from the large gash in her head.

“Yes, but only for a minute. She chocked to death on her own blood.” The diener states and you can’t help but feel a shiver through your spine.

“It’s most likely the unsub approached these women, if Caroline was out for a run, he might’ve asked her for directions or grabbed her. If she was grabbed, it would explain the bruising on the neck in an attempt to cut the circulation off to the brain, rendering her unconscious.” Spencer suggests, looking over to you as you remain too quiet for his liking. “You in there?”

Snapping out from your thoughts, you nod. “So the unsub approaches these women, tries to strangle them and then takes them to a rooftop. He isn’t sexually assaulting these women, but why throw them off a roof?”

“If he’s trying to pose it as suicide, it’s unusual for women to throw herself off a roof, it’s too dramatic. If a woman were to commit suicide, she’d overdose or drown herself. A subtle way to go.” Spencer explains as you nod along. “It’s almost as if he’s apologetic. He wants them to suffer, but can’t inflict the pain besides carving a number into their forearm.” Spencer looks over the number on Caroline’s arm. “You can see in some area’s he didn’t go deep enough with the knife, he’s dug in multiple times to carve out enough skin to make it bleed.”

“Maybe he’s a narcissist? Keeping track of his victims, making sure no one else can take the limelight for these girls.” You state. “I mean, he knows he isn’t going to get caught by the girls. Based on Caroline, she could barely move let alone tell anyone who did this.”

“I’ve seen countless bodies from suicide by jumping from buildings. It’s a rarity if you survived such a fall like this.” The diener tells you. “Clearly they knew what they were doing.”

“Contrary to popular belief, when the body falls from a height their head does not splatter onto the ground. Their bones will break and splay out, but if you were to fall from say a 48 feet building you’re most likely to live with a 50% chance of surviving.” Spencer explains, and you nod along.

“But our unsub picks tall buildings. Office blocks, malls, parking lots.” You tell Spencer who hums. “He knows they’re not going to survive the fall.”

“Yes, but statistically,” Spencer begins, but your phone begins to ring cutting him off.

“Sorry, Spence.” You tell him with an apologetic smile before moving out from the morgue, taking the phone call. “Yeah?”

“Ah, my sweet angel. Have you found Cupid’s arrow yet?” Penelope chuckles, causing you to roll your eyes. “How’s the case going? No one’s called to update me on the gruesome details.”

You sigh quietly. “Honestly, Pen, you’re lucky.” You tell her. “And what’d you mean by Cupid’s arrow?”

Penelope groans loudly through the phone, and you can hear her head hitting the keyboard before she apologises to it. “Y/n, how are you so pretty yet oblivious to the attraction of one Spencer Reid?”

“I, what?” You stumble over your words as you look over your shoulder to see Spencer staring back at you with a small smile on his lips as he waves to you. “I, he, Spencer? No,” You scoff, trying to think about anything else to reduce the spike in your heart rate.

“I’m no profiler, but I know things,” Penelope states.

“You’ve got it all wrong, Pen. Sorry to disappoint you, but there is no way he could ever like-”

“Y/n?” Spencer calls out, now standing in the doorway in front of you. “Hotch wants us to meet him, has a potential lead.”

“Sorry P, I gotta go.” You tell Penelope before she has the chance to say anything else and hang up the phone.

Walking alongside Spencer, you can’t help but notice how close he is to you. For someone who is a bit of a germaphobe, he’ll always sit with you before anyone else. During a flight last month with bad turbulence, he held your hand in his as you began to fall asleep, resting your head on his shoulder. You woke up concerned he’d mind, but Spencer just smiled and offered his shoulder any time.

“So, what’s the lead?” You ask as you walk into the police precinct, finding the rest of your team in a small room as boards with pictures have already been set up.

“I’ve checked with Garcia about the possibility that whoever is doing this must have some form of access to each of these buildings. There has to be something tying them together,” Prentiss begins.

“Like a cleaning company, or security?” JJ suggests.

Emily nods before grabbing a file and reading directly from it. “SecureO is a security company based all over Atlanta. They have hundreds of security guards working at various office blocks, department stores, parking lots. You name it, they’ve got people there.”

“And our unsub works for them?” You question, looking at the file to see the hundreds of names. “How are we supposed to find him?”

Hotch reaches out to call Garcia. “And here I thought you forgot about me.” Penelope states through the line, and Morgan smiles to himself.

“Garcia, can you take a look at the employee records for SecureO and crosscheck to see if any of them have criminal records.” Hotch asks as you listen intently to Penelope typing away.

“Okay, fifty-seven members of staff have criminal records.” Penelope states.

“How about any with troubled pasts? Maybe this guy is using these women as a form of release. He’s not sexually assaulting them, so it’s less likely to be about an ex, maybe it’s more personal.” You suggest, and Spencer scans through the file once again before looking back at the victims on the board.

“You, my pretty might be onto something,” Garcia chirps. “right, there are twelve members of staff who grew up in the foster system. I’m sending their details over to you right as we speak.”

“Wait, Penelope,” Spencer calls out and Hotch raises his head. “how many of those twelve lost family? Basing on their age and strength, he must be at least in his late twenties or early thirties. Try looking up any accidents in the state in the late eighties to early nineties.”

“Thinking he might have never left the state?” Morgan questions, his arms crossed over his chest.

Clearing his throat, Spencer stands taller beside you as you glance up at him with a reassuring smile. “Looking at all these women, they’re all young and pretty. Anyone who grew up in the system is less likely to leave the place they’re comfortable in. If our unsub grew up in Georgia, he would’ve stayed here and have gotten a job at eighteen. SecureO has been around for twelve years, and five of these employees have been around since it began.”

“Okay, I’ll send across anything once I’ve found it.” Penelope speaks up and hangs up the phone.

“Good work, Reid. Let’s go deliver the profile.” Hotch nods as he leads the way out of the room, Rossi patting Spencer’s shoulder as he departs.

“Not too shabby, Doctor.” You nudge Spencer playfully and he softly chuckles as you walk out.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, Y/n.” He mutters under his breath as you walk out of earshot.

Entering the station the next morning, you looked around as solemn expressions greeted you.

“What’s happened?” You ask, taking a seat beside Spencer who notions to JJ.

“Another victim was found in the early hours of this morning. Amelie Hartnell, twenty, was discovered on top of a dumpster in a back alley below a seven-story abandoned office building.” JJ passes over the file to you as you flick through the images whilst you hold your breath.

“She was only twenty,” You mutter to yourself, unaware of Spencer eyeing you carefully. “there’s something about the carving on her, it isn’t as deep. You can see it’s a lot shallower than the others.” You explain.

“He was in a rush this time.” Morgan states. “But if it was an abandoned building, who was going to see him?”

“I’m not sure,” Hotch mutters. “call Garcia, see if she’s found anything yet about those five employees.”

“On it. Baby girl,” Morgan comments before exiting the room.

“You seem tired, Y/n.” Rossi speaks up, and you lift your head up to see the concern in his eyes. “Is something bothering you?”

Shaking your head, you dismiss the matter as the team look over at you. “I’m fine, just thinking about a few things. Didn’t get much sleep last night.” You tell him, but Spencer can tell there’s something else underlying you’re not saying. “Excuse me, I just need some air.” You mutter before exiting the precinct.

Watching you walk away, Spencer sighs. “Well, go follow her,” Rossi motions to Spencer who quickly gets up and exits the room. “these kids, I swear.” He mutters to himself once Spencer is out of sight.

As you walk out, you take a deep breath, clearing your thoughts. “Y/n,” Spencer calls out and you turn around, forcing a smile. “something’s clearly bothering you.” He states as you move away to sit on a bench whilst Spencer hovers beside you.

“When I was growing up, I had a friend, Sylvia,” You start, and Spencer watches as you brush your hands over your pants once more. “she moved to Savannah and we just grew apart, but I’ll never forget her brother, Killian.”

Spencer sits down beside you, your leg touching his as he reaches out and takes your hand. “Y/n, what was it about Killian?” He questions quietly.

“He was always there, just watching us.” You mumble, remembering those bright blue eyes always in the background, never leaving you or Sylvia. “But, their parents, they died in a car crash when Sylvia was thirteen, Killian was fourteen.” You begin to explain as you exhale a shaky breath.

Squeezing Spencer’s hand, he shushes you. “It’s okay, just, take it one memory at a time.” He reassures you as your eyes remain tightly shut.

“From what I know, Sylvia couldn’t take it, losing her parents,” You swallow the lump in your throat as you open your eyes, focusing on Spencer’s. “she killed herself, by jumping off of the roof of a mall.”

“Just like the first victim.” Spencer mutters as he quickly stands up. “We gotta tell Hotch.”

“Why didn’t you mention this sooner, Y/n?” Hotch stressed as he frowns at you, but Spencer remains by your side as you keep your focus on the team, eyeing the photos behind Emily.

“I suppressed a lot of memories from when I was growing up, I forgot all about Killian and Sylvia, but seeing these photos it just made me think back to it all.” You explain, looking around at all of your team. “I’m sorry for holding back.” You apologise, and JJ smiles as she walks over, hugging you lightly.

“Garcia, can you look up Killian and Sylvia Atwork?” You speak up into the phone and Penelope begins to type rapidly before pausing.

“Oh my god,” She mutters. “Killian has been working at SecureO for ten years. He was employed when he turned eighteen and is in charge of the security footage for various locations.”

Hotch rises to his feet. “We have to inform the police department and the news outlets, JJ, can you sort a press conference?”

“I’m on it.” JJ states as she begins to call her contacts, taking the call in another room.

“Y/n, we might’ve just had a break in the case because of you, thank you.” Hotch comments and Rossi gives you a subtle thumbs up. “Garcia, I need you to look at any other buildings that SecureO are in charge of the security systems, see if our unsub is heading to any of these next. If we’re lucky, we’ve got enough time to stop him killing again.”

“Will do, Sir.” Penelope calls out from the phone.

“You think we’ll get him in time?” You speak up, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan.

“Hopefully.” Hotch sighs and JJ walks back in.

“Ready when you are, Hotch.”

* The plan was simple, and it should’ve been effective. All of you were teamed off into pairs. Prentiss and Morgan, JJ and Rossi, Hotch and the chief of police whilst you went with Reid.

“I’m proud of you, Y/n.” Spencer mutters as you sit beside him in the car on route to the office block about ten minutes west of the station. “Without you, we might not have gotten to this point.”

Spencer can’t help but feel warm inside as you smile up at him. “You think so?”

“I know for a fact.” He states as his hand reaches out to yours as he pulls up to the building. “Just keep an eye out, and don’t do anything stupid.”

“Again.” You add as you close the car door, securing your vest on as the pair of you begin to head up to the roof of the building, you leading the way.

“Any sign, Y//L/N?” Hotch asks through your earpiece.

Looking around, you keep your gun extended in front of you as you quietly open the door to the roof. “Negative.” You state, turning the corner as you continue to search the place whilst Spencer is still coming up the stairs.

“Reid, my dead grandmother could’ve gotten up those stairs faster than you.” You joke playfully as he comes into sight, the sun beginning to set behind you illuminating his hazel eyes as they widen.

“Y/n!” Spencer yells, but you’re too slow to react as an arm is tightly holding your neck whilst a knife is being pressed against your back beneath the vest.

“Long time no see, huh, Y/n?” Killian mutters into your ear as he begins to drag you back as you sight against him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, this can end one of two ways, I prefer to keep this clean.”

“We need back up and medics at 1238 Meadow Lane, I repeat, we need backup. Killian is here, he, he has Y/n.” Saying that through the comms immediately causes his heart to sink as tears fill your eyes.

“We’re coming now,” Hotch announces, and you can hear the sound of sirens across the city as Killian drags you toward the edge of the roof with you in front of him.

“Spence,” You focus on Spencer’s face as his gun remains out, directed at Killian’s head. “what are the statistics of surviving this?” You ask him as a tear falls down your cheek.

“Y/n,” Spencer starts, but you shake your head as you fight against Killian, taking shallow breaths as he continues to apply pressure to your windpipe.

“Please,” You breathe out as Killian chuckles against you. “I need to know.”

The truth of the matter is you know your odds of making it out alive are slim to none, but you wanted to hear Spencer ramble one last time.

“From a building like this, a ten-story drop your odds aren’t great, in fact, falls from ten-story buildings have a 90% chance of death.” He explains, his gun now shaking in his hand as he pictures you on the ground below, bleeding out. “Those, those who survive can be paralysed if they land on their backs, permanent brain damage from skull fractures or,” Spencer stops himself as Killian focuses on him.

“Do finish Doctor Reid, I’m enjoying this.” Killian states, and you shudder at the fact he’s finding this entertaining.

“In cases like Sylvia, she survived but was left to bleed out.” Spencer finishes, and your eyes widen. “You see, Sylvia wasn’t suicidal like we thought. She was just in the wrong place, wasn’t she, Killian?” Spencer steps closer, but you wince as you can feel the knife starting to pierce your skin.

“No, Sylvia killed herself. I, I saw it.” Killian yells, tightening his grip around your neck as your hands lie limply by your sides. “I would never hurt her.”

“Not intentionally,” Spencer comments. “you were playing, and you knocked her, didn’t you?”

Killian shakes his head. “No! She jumped!” You can feel his heart beating against you. “She jumped and never said goodbye, she left me all alone.” He cries out.

“Killian, I’m sorry.” You manage to say. “It wasn’t your, your fault.”

“She left me here.” He spits at you. “Everyone else moved on, but I was left with the guilt.”

“There’s always another way, Killian.” You speak softly, focusing on Spencer. “But if this is it,” You start, but Spencer shakes his head. “Spencer, I’m so sorry.” You let your tears fall freely down your cheeks as Spencer steps closer.

“Y/n, don’t do this.” Spencer tells you.

“I love you Spence, but please, please be strong for me.” You can feel yourself beginning to slip out of consciousness as Killian continues to apply more pressure around your neck.

“There’s another way out, Killian. I promise you, just let Y/n go.” Spencer is yelling at the top of his lungs as Killian simply laughs.

“You think there’s another option? You sure you’re a Doctor, kid?” Killian scoffs.

“It’ll be okay, Spence,” You fight against the unsubs hold as his arm remains pressed against your neck. “just, don’t give up.”

The unsub scoffs as you wince at he breathes into your ear. “This ends with you.”

Closing your eyes, you embrace the feeling as Killian falls backwards, taking you with him.

“NO!” Spencer screams, running over as Killian lets go of you at the last second.

Spencer grabs a hold of your hand, but within a split second, it slips. “Spence,” You cry out as you hang on to the ledge of the building with all your might.

The sound of Killian hitting the floor only worsens your fear as Spencer begins to pull you up. All you can hear is the sound of your heart in your ears as the sirens dull behind you whilst Spencer is yelling in front of you, yet you can’t hear any of it.

“Come on, Y/n, stay with me!” Spencer screams as another pair of hands appear by his side.

“Come on, we’ve got you.” Hotch states, pulling you up with Spencer and away from the ledge.

Immediately you fall into Spencer’s arms, your hands gripping his arms as you sob into his chest. “It’s okay, I’m not letting go.” Spencer holds you tightly as he looks up at Hotch, his expression saying more than words can.

“We need a medic!” Hotch yells as three men appear, checking over you as you remain sat with Spencer on the roof, far away from the ledge.

“You’re okay,” Spencer tells you as you go quiet, going into shock as the medics help you out from the building and into the ambulance as your team stands by.

“Oh thank god.” JJ blurts out as Spencer exits the building, enveloping him into a tight hug. “Are you alright?” She checks as she pulls away, but Spencer can’t help himself as he focuses on you in the back of the ambulance, wrapped in foil as the medics check you over.

JJ follows Spencer’s gaze and can’t help but force back her smile.

“Go on, you should be with her.” She assures him, but Spencer pauses.

“Y/n told me she loves me.” Spencer quietly tells JJ who quirks an eyebrow. “You, you knew didn’t you?”

JJ chuckles under her breath. “Spence, we all knew. But she doesn’t know you love her too, does she?”

Spencer shakes his head as he glances back over to you, seeing you being given the all-clear as you begin to rise to your feet.

Immediately, Spencer darts over to help you, his hand resting on your waist as you look up at him. “Spence, I,” You stumble over your words, watching as Killian’s body is being transported away in the body bag.

“Hey, don’t focus on that,” Spencer rests his hand on your cheek. “you’re alive, and I guess you beat the statistic.” He states, listening as you laugh lightly.

“Probably because I didn’t fall.” You add.

“But you almost did, and, and I would never have had the chance to tell you this,” Spencer tells you.

“Tell me what?” You ask, looking up at him with hesitation.

Spencer opens his mouth and after exactly three years, two months and nine days of knowing you and falling in love with you, he cannot find the right words to string together. “In the English language. there are 171,476 words. I’ve only ever needed three of them to tell you how I feel, but I can’t even do that properly.” He laughs uneasily as he focuses on you.

Lifting your hand up, you rest it on the back of his neck as you rise to your tiptoes. “Is this okay?” You whisper.

“More than okay,” Spencer responds before his lips are on yours.

You can hear Rossi cheering in the background as Hotch tries to shush them all but secretly is proud of you both. Having seen the way you gripped Spencer’s shirt when he saved you on that roof, he knew it was about time something would finally happen.

Pulling away from the kiss, you laugh lightly. “I take it the feeling is reciprocated then?” You question, and Spencer smiles.

“I’m never letting you go again.” He mumbles into you as you rest your head against his chest, hoping that promise will remain intact.

#okay so it was v long #but i really hope you enjoyed it!#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid au #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Text

“You need a new superhero name.”

Damian brought it up unexpectedly, eyes still trained on the security camera he was dismantling.

“What?” Jon was sifting through the footage, using superspeed to catch every little detail of last night, but at Damian’s voice, he paused the recording and looked up.

Damian was still digging inside the camera, having removed the back panel and a good chunk of wires, and was now sifting through the piece of tech with a pair of tweezers. Nonetheless, he continued the conversation. “A name. You’re not going to be Superboy forever, are you?”

“Um,” Jon could honestly say he’d never thought about it. He’d always been Superboy, ever since he could remember. He wasn’t one to place much thought into birthrights or heritage, not like Damian, but he also wasn’t overlooking the fact that his father was Superman. What exactly did that make him? Superboy was the obvious answer. “I don’t think I can be anything else, Damian.”

“You have an older brother who also goes by Superboy.”

Jon shrugged. “We share.”

“Still. You’re graduating high school in just a few months, Jon. Though it’s surprising to say, you’ve outgrown the title.”

Jon’s lips instantly turned upward in a smirk. “I’ve outgrown the title, huh?”

At that, Damian turned to glare at him. Pointing a finger, he said, “I will taze you. Shut up.”

“Whatever you say, short stack.” Jon chuckled at Damian’s little growl. “But honestly, what else am I supposed to be? Everyone knows me as ‘Superman’s Son.’ I mean, Dad’s name is so big in the League, I don’t think I’ll ever separate myself from it.” And if he was honest, Jon didn’t know if he wanted to separate himself from it.

Damian hummed. “Not true. Look at Richard.”

“Dick? What about him?”

“Well,” Damian paused to move the tweezers to his other hand, “Richard started out as the first child hero, working under Batman. And unlike the other early proteges, he didn’t simply work as his mentor’s sidekick. He created his own legacy. And then he became Nightwing.”

“But Nightwing was already a thing,” Jon pointed out. “It’s a Kryptonian legend.”

“Yes, but there hasn’t actually been a Nightwing, has there? Even if there was one on Krypton, Richard was the first Nightwing on Earth. You wouldn’t call him a sidekick, would you?”

“What, no!” Jon’s reaction was immediate. “Nightwing’s, like, one of the most well-known guys out there. Literally everyone knows him, and literally everyone trusts him. He’s not a sidekick.”

Damian turned to smile at him. “Some would say he was. Do you understand my point?”

Jon pouted, took a deep breath and let it out. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so. I don’t know, I’m not even sure how to go about doing that.”

“Well, to start off, find a new name.” Damian hunched over the camera even more, suddenly focusing in on something.

“I guess so. You got any ideas?” At Damian’s lack of response, Jon asked again, “Damian?”

Damian straightened, holding up the tweezers. Clasped tightly between the tongs was a miniscule data chip. “Here’s the footage we’re looking for.”

Jon stared at him, eyes wide. “How did you even know that was there?”

Damian shrugged. “Simple matter of deductive reasoning.”

“Tim told you, didn’t he.”

A pause. Then, “Drake may have mentioned a while back that a certain trafficking ring was hiding the data chips inside the cameras, and that others were catching on to the trick. I simply tested out his theory.” Damian looked physically pained, and Jon laughed.

“Cool. Put it in, I’ll look through the footage.”

Damian handed the chip over, then laced his his fingers together, put his arms above his head to stretch. Jon, still holding the chip, stared at the line of Damian’s muscles. When Damian quirked an eyebrow, Jon quickly cleared his throat and took the old data chip out of the computer, replacing it with the new one. “So, any ideas?”

“For your name? A couple,” Damian said. “Of course, you need to have an idea for what you’re thinking of.”

Jon nodded absently, pressing rewind on the footage. “I’m not sure if I want to separate from the Super name entirely, though.”

“You don’t want to, or are you scared to?”

Jon snorted. “You probably know the answer to that better than I do. I think I got a name, it’s on the side of the truck.” He zoomed into the footage. “Yeah, it looks we were right. The pharmaceutical company’s related somehow. There’s that stupid gremlin looking thing again.’

“The griffin?” Damian asked, peering over his shoulder. He made a contemplative noise, brows furrowed

“Is that what that thing’s called? Looks like a half drowned bird.”

Damian laughed, and batted Jon’s hands aside. “That’s not what an actual griffin looks like. Here.” He pulled up a couple pictures on his phone.

Jon swiped through a couple pictures, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, those are a lot more impressive. What are they though?”

“Mythological creatures from a variety of different places. They have the body of a lion and the wings and head of an eagle. They’re quite majestic.”

Jon squinted his eyes at him. “You’re implying something. I know you’re implying something.”

In response, Damian nodded his head towards the phone.

“What?” Jon asked.

“Griffin! It’s a perfect name.”

Jon raised his eyebrows skeptically. “Oh yeah. Because I’m part cat and part bird. Perfect analogy.”

Damian slapped his hand lightly. “No, you moron. It doesn’t have anything to do with the eagle or the lion.”

“Then?”

“Your dual heritage.” At Jon’s uncomprehensive look, Damian sighed. “You’re half-Kryptonian, half-human. And it shows. When you fight, you’re fierce and unafraid, much like your father. At the same time, though, you’re endlessly curious and inquisitive, like your mother. God knows I’ve been on the end of that far too often.”

“Oh. That, huh. That actually makes sense.”

Damian shrugged. “I’m just saying. It would be a good homage to your roots, and you’re honoring your parents, without being too overt.”

Jon looked down at the phone again. The lion part was strong, muscled, steady. The bird’s head was curved and fierce, wings spread majestically.

“Griffin. You know what? I kinda like it.”

OKAY SO THIS WASN’T ACTUALLY MY IDEA i read a damijon fic a while back on ao3 where the author had jon’s name as griffin and i thought that was so so cool so i wrote a thing and i tried to find it again to give them credit but i couldn’t find it!!! so if anyone knows the fic i’m talking about, or if you yourself wrote the fic, please let me know so i can link you in the thing. it really was an incredible idea.

tag list: @comicsandhoney @birdy-bat-writes @elles-shitposts-personified @subtleappreciation @yesboopityboop @dangerduckjpeg @astroherogirl

and i know you’re not actually on my tag list so sorry for bothering you with this but @iamwhelmed i thought you would appreciate this

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ayellowcurtain · 3 years

Text

prompt about Sander who accept a bet with his friends to win Robbe's heart and be his bf, along the way Sander is head over heels to Robbe but some times later Robbe found out about the bet.

“He’s chill, I don’t think it’ll be hard.” His friend says behind him, but Sander is already looking, thinking that boy was a lot more than chill.

“This is the stupidest idea you guys have ever had.” Sander looks back at his friends when he hears the worried tone, at how bothered Adi is by the joke. It’s a stupid, really bad idea, but Sander couldn’t say no to an excuse to get closer to that boy. Sander is sure he already saw that boy, Robbe, somewhere, but he can’t figure out where.

“Oh, shit, Sander…” Adi looks at him, but Sander is busier still watching the videos spreading like wildfire: him, kissing Robbe at that party on Friday and someone filming from afar, talking about how the first year boy fell in their trap, congratulating Sander.

“He’ll hate you forever, bro.” Sander holds his phone tighter, rewatching the stories a few times, trying to come up with an excuse, but nothing comes to his mind. Robbe isn’t replying to his texts so he already saw this.

“I have to go.”

Sander knocks on the door constantly, impatiently. Someone would just have to give him a chance to get in and explain. He’s in Robbe’s territory, and he knows everyone inside that flat probably hates him now, even Senne. They’ve been friends for a long time, but his friend now lives with Robbe, dates one of his closest friends and Sander has been around Senne and Robbe enough to see how much Senne cares about the younger boy and how Robbe looks up to him in a way Sander can’t understand.

He’s the one to finally open the door abruptly, looking at Sander like he’s about to kill him. He tries to close the door, but Sander puts his foot and hand against it.

“Senne, please, let me explain. Let me apologize to him, please.”

Senne opens the door a little, but stand in the space he created, “He doesn’t want to talk to you, bro.”

“Then he’ll just listen,” Senne stares at him, judging but considering the options. They’ve been friends forever, and that’s why Sander can get inside, with Senne closing the door right next to them.

“He’s feeling like shit. So you better have a good, solid excuse to give him right now.”

Sander nods his head to the little piece of advice and Senne points with his head to the direction Sander should go.

He stops in front of another closed door and takes a deep breath in and out, unsure of what to say now that they’re just a few meters apart. The video is not his fault, he didn’t know it existed until this morning, with Adi showing it to him. He was very clear with his friends the second he saw them after spending a whole weekend with Robbe after their first kiss, thinking they were hidden from everyone.

He told them the prank was over. He told them he liked spending time with Robbe, that’s why he ignored all their texts, and he would like to keep spending time with him, so his friends would just have to drop it, never mention ever again that Sander only made a move because he told them he would, sure that Robbe would like him if given the chance.

Sander opens the door carefully not to make a noise, and he gets inside, closing it just as carefully behind him, leaning against it when Robbe notices someone getting inside his bedroom uninvited, looking over his shoulder, closing his notebook on the table.

“What are you doing here?” Robbe doesn’t accuse, he sounds a lot calmer than Sander expected, but that doesn’t change how badly he fucked it up and how much he needs Robbe to understand he has nothing to do with that video.

“It’s not what you think. They wanted me to flirt with you, kiss you, but once at a party, and that was it. I’m still here, months later because I want to. They know this, I told them right after the weekend we spent together after our first kiss. I told them it was over, that I wanted to be with you. I don’t know why he filmed that and why he said what he said, I didn’t know. I was caught off guard.”

Robbe listens without interrupting him, pressing his mouth against his biceps, his hands still on his desk, not even bothering to turn and look at Sander, “Is this whole speech to make me feel bad for you or...?”

“No. No, Robbe. I was just...trying to say I’m so sorry, that I didn’t know you were even a subject still. I like you. I really like you, this wasn’t a prank for me.”

“It feels like one. I guess I would know, having the friends I have.”

Sander tries to take a few steps, holding his own hands, pinching the soft skin between his thumb and index finger, his heart beating so fast inside his chest, filling his ears. Robbe finally turns his chair to properly look at Sander, standing a few feet from him.

“I like you, Robbe. I have always liked you, for the longest time. That stupid joke was a way I found to get closer to you, finally. But I had noticed you before. I thought about it for weeks, trying to remember where I had seen you before, I told you this…” Robbe nods his head, interested, “It was with Noor, you two were spraying a garbage truck.”

Sander grabs his phone inside his jacket with shaking hands, trying to scroll through his gallery quickly enough before Robbe kicks him out. He finally finds the picture, the one he took months ago, and stared at so many times, trying to find more details he could be missing about the mystery boy.

He shows Robbe the photo and tries to look at him while Robbe is busy, carefully grabbing his phone, zooming in.

He looks a little messy. From the weeks they spent glued together after that first kiss, Sander noticed Robbe has a habit of touching his hair when he’s nervous. Sander hates that he made Robbe nervous without meaning to. That it was a bad type of nervous, thinking Sander would ever use him for a prank.

Sander can’t help but stand a little closer, right in front of Robbe, staring at him still looking down at his phone. Robbe gives him the phone back, a little confused when he finds Sander so close, taking a step back, frowning, avoiding to meet Sander’s eyes.

“That’s not an excuse, you know. I stopped filming with Jens and the others because of this...stupid pranks that are never funny.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry, Robbe. It was never my intention for this to go...the way it did.”

Robbe circles around himself, clearly not knowing what to do, but at least he’s not asking Sander to leave just yet so he stands where Robbe left him, watching as he sits on his bed, constantly nibbling the inside of his bottom lip.

Sander looks at the space next to Robbe on the bed, and he moves slowly, sitting there, waiting for Robbe to forgive him.

Two days ago they were kind of pushing and pulling each other out of bed while Sander was trying to go home for once. Robbe wanted him to stay and Sander wanted it too, but he had to go to therapy and he just wanted to see pouty Robbe ask for him to stay.

They kissed against the door and Sander managed to slip out of Robbe’s bedroom, not even looking back so he wouldn’t rush back to Robbe, forgetting all about therapy and his own home. Now Robbe is barely looking at him.

“I’m sorry, Robbe.”

“Stop apologizing,” Robbe whines his complains and Sander looks at him, not thinking before putting his hand on Robbe’s cheek, making him look at him, kissing his lips before Robbe can stop him.

To his surprise, Robbe kisses him back instantly, his hand finding its way to Sander’s neck, stopping in the back, pressing his fingertips against his skin, pulling Sander even closer, deepening the kiss.

He tries to move closer, putting his hands on Robbe’s waist, almost making him fall back, but Robbe moves quicker, a lot more certain, straddling Sander against the mattress, putting both hands on his neck.

“We should-” Sander’s breathing is too short to continue, smiling at Robbe so close to him, staring at his lips, “lock the door.”

“Nobody is coming here right now.” Robbe moves on to kissing his neck eagerly, and Sander closes his eyes, trying not to think about Robbe on his lap, taking his shirt off, kissing his neck with his mouth open and wet.

“Robbe, Senne is dying to come to slice my throat because of that video...lock the door, please.”

Robbe sighs, annoyed, getting up and Sander can’t help but stare at this shirtless, so hot, handsome boy, stomping his feet.

Sander takes his jacket off slowly, watching Robbe lock the door, pushing his hair to the side, off of his eyes. Sander loses his breath watching Robbe open his legs to sit on his lap again, and they’re back to kissing in now time, Robbe pressing his body against Sander, asking him quietly to lie down already.

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #sobbe

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flouncingwiz-sevsnape · 4 years

Text

The Yule Ball

Request: I rlly liked ur last post and wanted to please request something kinda similar where the reader is a professor like sev and its the yule ball or just some fancy hogwarts ball and he asks her out there or something or they just kinda realise they like each other, thank you!! 🙂

A/N: I tried my best with this one, but I feel like I didn’t really capture Severus’ personality. This is definitely a little quicker and fluffier than the other ones, but I hope you like it anyways! BTW I’m still working on other requests!

(just a quick ps- if you want the story to have smut, you have to say so, otherwise i’ll just make it fluff)

Severus x Reader (professor)

Warnings: fluff

You’ve been teaching at Hogwarts for a few years now, but this was the first formal dance that you’d ever attended as a staff member. You could vaguely recall some sort of ball during your 4th year, but you didn’t remember any details. As Albus assigned decoration duty you looked over at Severus and rolled your eyes, he smirked back. You knew you were both thinking the same thing: ‘Do I have to dress up?’ You were pretty, but you didn’t like to wear anything but basic robes and you only wore makeup for special events. The headmaster’s voice answered your internal inquiries soon enough though.

‘Let this be your reminder that staff members are expected to dress up for tonight.’ His twinkling blue eyes scanned the room for signs of dissent, and soon enough they rested on Snape who looked rebellious and angry. ‘Yes, Severus, that includes you too.’

Snap sneered in response and opened his mouth to speak but Minerva stomped down on his foot, so he remained quiet shooting her a glare. As Dumbledore finished his announcements the staff filed out of the lounge and headed off to decorate their assigned areas. On your way to the Great Hall, you couldn’t help but think about the exciting chances that lay ahead, despite having to dress up. The truth was, you had been crushing on Severus since your first day on staff. Even though it was wishful thinking, you had a small fantasy of you and him dancing together and maybe even taking things a little further…

‘Bloody hell! Bloody hell! This is so typical!’ you thought as you hurried down to the Great Hall. You had been on your way to the ball when you came across Peeves filling a classroom with soap suds, cackling madly. As he zoomed off, the bubbles started to attack you, and while they’re not exactly harmful, being pelted by soap blobs isn’t exactly a fun experience either. So now you were twenty minutes late to the dance, soap clinging to parts of your dress, despite your best efforts to scourgify yourself clean. Sighing, you rushed through the doors and slinked over to where the rest of the staff was standing, hoping not to attract too much attention. Of course, immediately upon your arrival Severus had caught sight of you and was sneering, amusedly. You and he had an interesting relationship of always making fun of the other, but also laughing at the stupidity of students together. Shooting him an angry scowl you shuffled in place next to Hagrid and stared at the dance floor. The champions were just finishing their opening dance and students were pouring onto the dance floor joining them now.

Severus was just wondering where y/n was when he caught sight of you, breathless, covered in… were those bubbles? Of course even with the bubbles you were absolutely stunning. Snape let his eyes take you in quickly. Y/n was wearing an icy blue dress, haired curled and pinned up, and seemed to be sparkling alongside the decorations. You shot him a glare, and he averted his gaze quickly.

‘Oh dear me, Y/n looks radiant, does she not Severus?’ Minerva was leaning over, whispering smugly. She knew that he fancied you, and she had been encouraging him all day to ask you to dance. He shot her a withering look, but McGonagall did not shrink away. She, instead, continued her agitating speech. ‘It would be such a shame to let such an opportunity go to waste, you know.’ Severus opened his mouth to reply but saw you walking towards him, eyebrow raised, so he quickly growled at Minerva, ‘give it a rest, will you?’ Snape stepped forward, willing himself to look bored, despite the butterflies swooping in his stomach.

You and Severus locked eyes and he stepped forward, as if to talk to you. You were really nervous around him tonight. He looked really sexy in his form fitting robes and it looked as if he had styled his hair (or at least tried to). You composed yourself as much as you could before walking towards him.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Snape had already spoken. ‘Pathetic, isn't it? All these kids obsessed with this ball?’ He looked extremely bored, but his eyes were locked on you intensely.

‘It is a little sad. But Severus, you have to admit, the music isn’t half bad,’ you shot him a playful smirk before continuing, ‘and besides dressing up can be fun.’

He raised an eyebrow at this and replied, ‘I despise having to dress up, I feel too… conceited.’ His dark eyes flicked around the room once before resting back on you.

‘Well, if it’s worth anything, you look dashing,’ you smiled jokingly but meaning every word of it. His lips tightened, so you redirected the conversation. ‘Oh, my gosh this song is a classic!’

You both paused to listen as The Weird Sisters played their slow song Magic Works. The lead singer’s voice drifted across the room, ‘and make… your final move… Mmm, don't be scared…. She wants you to…’ For some reason as he sang these lyrics, you couldn’t help but glance at Severus, silently pleading that he might ask you to dance. He avoided your eyes and looked instead at Minerva, to his right. You didn’t notice, but she was urging him on with aggressive hand waves and thumbs up. Snape turned back to you, eyes now glittering. You blushed, feeling stupid about ever expecting to dance with him and trained your gaze on the ground.

‘Despite it being�� pathetic, do you have any interest in… dancing… with me?’ his drawled out proposal took you by surprise and whipped your head up to face him.

‘Yes,’ you said at once, a smile flashing across your face. You took a quick breath and continued, ‘Severus, I would love to.’ He gave you a rare, half smile, half smirk, before holding out his hand regally. You took it and he led you a few meters away to an open spot on the outskirts of the dance floor. Even though he seemed reluctant to ask, he was firm and took control of the dance right away, grabbing your waist with both hands. Goosebumps ran down your back at his touch, and your stomach swooped around in excitement. You draped your arms around his neck and stepped closer to him, breathing in softly. He smelled of a tantalising mixture of pine and mint and you smiled to yourself. You danced in silence for a little while, both holding each other tightly, before Severus spoke again.

‘Y/n, I think you’re gorgeous.’ You looked up at him and smiled, heart pounding faster by the minute. Your eyes locked and you started to play with his hair distractedly as you swayed back and forth. This was perfect. It was everything you had wanted it to be.

Your moment of bliss was broken as soon as the song ended and Severus pulled away from you. He glanced around the room again before taking your hand and stalking towards the corridors. You followed him, not daring to speak, but a feeling of excitement washing over you.

The hall was dark and chilly and you shivered as the sounds of the ball grew quieter. Suddenly, Snape whipped around to face you, a curious look on his face, dark eyes flashing. You let out a small gasp but stood your ground, extremely unsure of what was happening. Moonlight illuminated the dark stone corridor and Severus looked enticing. All the suspense and excitement had culminated to this moment, and without a second thought, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. He stiffened under your touch but didn’t jerk away. Slowly, you felt him relax into you, his hands pulling your waist closer to him. A small sigh escaped your lips as he deepened the kiss and you, again, found your fingers tangled in his dark hair. Finally pulling away, the both of you breathing heavily, Severus grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes with such emotion, it took you off guard.

‘Y/n,’ he stepped closer, voice low and raspy, ‘I cannot believe I am asking this, but-’

You cut him off with another kiss. ‘Yes. Whatever it is, yes.’ He looked extremely relieved that he didn’t have to finish his inquiry, and he pressed you against the cold stone wall, planting another kiss on your lips. You stayed in the hall, tangled up in each other’s embrace until you heard footsteps and Severus pulled away, straightening his robes.

A pair of students were sneaking down the corridor, planting slobbery kisses on each other every few steps. Snape rolled his eyes and watched them, clearly unimpressed.

‘And… where exactly… do you think you are off to?’ Even though his back was turned, you could just picture his eyebrow raised and a triumphant sneer on his face. ‘Back to the Great Hall. Now.’ The kids scurried off looking both frightened and guilty. Severus looked over his shoulder slowly before striding over, a hungry look in his eyes.

‘Insolent students,’ you tilted your head to the side before continuing, ‘don’t they know that kissing in the corridors is strictly prohibited?’ He quirked an eyebrow and smirked before you pulled his face to yours and pressed your lips to his…

#severus snape #severus x reader #snape #snapedom #Pro Snape #snape x reader #snape fluff #severus snape fanfiction #hp fanfic #halfblood prince #no sn8

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edendaphne · 4 years

Text

“Discordant Sonata”- Ch. 14

Sorry about the cliffhanger last chapter! (>////<) I hope you enjoy the continuation!

>>Read it here on Ao3<< >>Read it here on Wattpad<<

CHAPTER 14: RUBATO

Music glossary: Rubato (Italian: 'stolen/robbed') - Musical term for the elasticity of music, most often expressed in time, or rhythm. In essence, by 'stealing' time, or borrowing it, rubato allows the performer to achieve greater musical expression and freedom. The player may deviate from strict tempo regularity by stretching certain beats, measures, or phrases and compacting others, in a musically correct method of atonement.

(Mood Music: "One Man’s Dream" - Yanni)

Ladybug was falling. Her body felt like it was floating, yet she could see a myriad of objects zooming past her: buildings, vehicles, street signs, people, as if her world had been rotated ninety degrees and gravity was pulling her across the street instead of towards the earth. She dropped down (or was it sideways??), further into the blackness. Time seemed to have slowed down, although she couldn’t be sure. It was as if she were a stone that had been dropped into a vast ocean, its currents violently rushing past.

Where am I?

She looked up towards the only source of light, which dimmed more and more as she fell. When it was merely a speck, she wondered if she’d plunged into a complete, terrifying darkness, all alone. Was there no way out? Fear gripped her chest, and she struggled to hold in a whimper.

A sudden brightness blinded her and someone, or some thing, caught her, preventing her from falling any further. Panicking, she squeezed her eyes shut against the onslaught of lights, and she struggled to wrest herself free. She squirmed and tried to shove the unknown entity away, but it was all in vain, as she was merely squeezed even tighter. The unknown force was simply too powerful to fight off in her confused and disoriented state, and although the grip wasn’t rough or painful, it was firm and unrelenting.

“Let me go!” she cried, still scrambling to get away. “Please, somebody help!!”

She felt someone’s face lower next to hers. “Easy, easy, it’s just me. You’re okay,” a deep voice cooed, their warm breath tickling her ear.

Her struggles ceased; she knew that voice.

“Chat…?”

Ladybug forced her eyes to focus, and they traveled up to meet his. She felt her body relax a bit as she looked into the familiar green glow. Could it really be him? How much of this situation was real?

“What happened? Is it really you? Am I… is this a dream?” she asked.

Chat Noir gave her a self-deprecating smile. “As much as I’d like to joke about being the man of your dreams, you’re actually awake right now.”

Ladybug quirked an eyebrow. Well... he certainly sounded like the real Chat.

She ignored the sudden heat in her face and asked, “Where are we? How did I get here?”

She felt Chat shrug as he held her, his face mirroring her own look of confusion. “It’s… I’m not exactly sure how to explain.” His eyes looked distant as he recounted what happened. “I saved the people from the vehicle that the akuma threw, and then started running back towards you guys. But I saw that she had you cornered, and I realized I wasn’t going to reach you in time. I was so scared. But then, like…” His face scrunched as he tried to articulate what happened, as if he were still trying to make sense of it himself. “Something stopped me. I got this feeling, this urge, that I needed to go inside this building. It seemed like a really stupid idea, but it’s like I couldn’t ignore it. So, against my better judgment, I followed it. Then when I was inside, I heard Plagg’s voice in my head. He said… ‘BLACK HOLE’.”

Ladybug blinked. Black Hole? Why did that sound so familiar…?

“So I repeated the words, and just like with Cataclysm, this... power activated in my hand; one I’ve never used before. And then it was like, somehow I knew what to do next. I put my hand on the wall and I focused, thinking about you and your location. I made a hole appear under you, and you fell through it. And then you landed here.”

Ladybug’s eyes grew wide. She realized that the power he was talking about had been briefly mentioned in Fu’s writings and records about other miraculouses, but no other details had been available.

“Chat, that–that’s remarkable,” she breathed. “You discovered a brand new power when it was needed the most… That’s amazing! Thank you.”

Chat looked away, cheeks reddening. “I-it was nothing. Just doing my job.” He cleared his throat, then nodded at the Lucky Charm in her hands. “S-so, uh... I noticed that you’ve got an interesting looking lightbulb there. Got any ideas?”

Oh. The Lucky Charm… she’d somehow managed to hold onto it during her odd trip through the black hole.

Right on cue, her earrings rang out their first beep.

She shook her head. “Not yet. But let’s go back outside so I can look around and see what we can use.”

“Good idea,” he replied with a fond smile, then seemed to be waiting for her so he could follow.

Her face felt warm again, and she added awkwardly, “Uhh… you’re gonna have to set me down first. I’m fine now, really.”

Chat’s eyebrows flew up, finally realizing that she was still nestled in his arms. “O-oh! Right! H-here you go,” he stammered, quickly setting her down onto the floor. They looked at each other, wringing their hands and chuckling awkwardly.

She turned and began to walk away when she felt him gently grab her arm.

“Wait,” he said, his expression turning forlorn. “I-uh… I wanted to apologize. For what my father said. He said a lot of really horrible things to you, and you don’t deserve any of it. He wasn’t always like… like that. I know he was just trying to turn us against each other, and I wanted to argue back, b-but it’s like I’d open my mouth and nothing would come out, and I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

She turned her body around to face him completely. Was he really apologizing for what had happened back there?? She had to consciously fight the urge to step forward and wrap her arms around him, as overzealous physical affection probably wasn’t what he needed right now. Especially not after what Hawkmoth said to him about her and her… motivations.

“Chat…You don’t have to apologize. The things Hawkmoth said, the things he does… you have no control over any of it; none of it is your fault. You’re not responsible for his words and actions. The man currently wearing the butterfly miraculous isn’t your father. He’s a villain, and extremely mentally disturbed. He’ll do and say anything to achieve what he wants.”

Chat looked away, his fists squeezing tightly. “B-but… what if he’s right, about some of it? Do you really need me? Would it be better for me to just hand you my miraculous so you could wish for him to go away, or wish for his miraculous back? I’m partly responsible so I should be the one to accept any consequences. Would I be more useful if I simply disappeared? Would it fix everything? Would it... save him and make him go back to normal?”

Ladybug felt her body stiffen and a sudden nausea settled in her gut.

Chat still loved his father. He wanted to save him.

She looked up at him, her determined eyes meeting his fearful ones. “Chat… don’t ever think for a second that things would be better off without you. Take a step back and look at the whole picture. You literally just discovered a new power, in the middle of battle, to save me from an akuma. That’s incredible!”

Chat’s cheeks flushed and he looked away, rubbing his arm shyly.

Ladybug continued, “If you don’t trust yourself yet, then trust me. I don’t need your miraculous.” She slowed down, emphasizing each word clearly. “I need YOU.”

“I…” he gaped at her, at a loss for words. A wave of emotions flickered through his face in quick sequence. Shock. Relief. Affection. Hope. Finally, he replied, “Th-thank you for saying that. You have no idea how much that means to me. And... I do trust you. It’s just… I just feel so powerless whenever he’s around, almost like I revert back into being a little kid, too afraid to talk back, too weak to act. Sometimes it feels like I’ll never escape him.”

Ladybug gulped and decided to chance stepping closer. She took his hands into hers, squeezing firmly, her eyes searching his to make sure her actions weren’t unwelcome.

“I can’t imagine how you must be feeling. But I assure you, you’re doing the right thing. It’ll take time for you to feel more confident around him, but I know you can do it. We can defeat him. YOU can defeat him. I believe in you, Chaton. I believe in us. The ladybug and cat miraculouses are back together where they belong, and as a team they can bring back balance. Together, our magic is greater than his. And I’ll do everything in my power to help you be free of that man.”

Chat bit his lip, gazing at her fondly, looking like he was moments away from tackling her with a hug. Instead, he shook his head with a dreamy sigh. “I don’t deserve you, My Lady.”

Ladybug ignored the heat that rose to her face, and booped him on the nose. “Stop saying that, you silly cat. You deserve every possible good thing to happen to you.”

Chat raised her hands to his lips and left a lingering kiss. “You’re already the best thing that’s ever happened to ‘Chat Noir’. Thank you,” he said softly.

“I–I...”Her breath caught slightly, the huskiness in Chat’s voice producing a pleasant tingle that traveled down her spine. “Y-you’re welcome,” she managed to stammer out.

“Also… I know this isn’t the time, but after we defeat this akuma, I’ll tell you everything about my mother. She’s the reason why we did everything. We were trying to save her. She’s… well, at first I thought she was sick, but things are more complicated than that. Anyway, I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

Because I really do trust you, and I need you to know that , his eyes seemed to say as they bore into hers.

She smiled at him. “If she’s anything like you, I’m sure she’s an amazing person.” Chat looked down at her, his emotions threatening to spill out at her words.

He was about to reply when his ring beeped out its first alarm, and they were startled apart.

Chat walked back to her with a smile. Linking his fingers between hers, he said, “Let’s do this, Bugaboo. We’ve got an akuma to take care of.”

(Mood Music: “Never Say No” - Abel Korzeniowski)

The pair peeked out from behind a wall, locating the akuma, who was still searching for them after Ladybug’s mysterious disappearance.

Ladybug whispered to Chat, “Do you have any idea where her akuma could be hiding?”

“I think it’s in her necklace. It lights up right before she uses her powers.”

Ladybug looked around, searching for more clues, as Chat stood behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders, keeping guard. All the streets and buildings were so dark, it was hard for her to see anything. Occasionally she would ask Chat to read out a sign or placard, taking advantage of his night vision. Squinting, Ladybug’s eyes landed on a certain building, and finally an idea planted itself into her brain.

“So… she sucks up all the light around her, like her own version of a black hole.” She brought out the small, polka dotted lightbulb, turning it with her fingers. “But what if we give her more light than she can handle?”

Chat noticed the building she was eyeing. “Got a plan?” he asked curiously.

“I think so. You think you can lure her into that shop?”

Chat stepped away with a cheerful salute. “Can do!”

“Great! Give me a minute or so to set everything up. Once you’re inside, follow my lead,” she instructed.

Chat winked at her. “Aye aye, partner! See you soon!”

A few well-timed puns and taunts later, Chat had the akuma exactly where he wanted her. He baited and goaded her into the building (which turned out to be a photography studio), as Ladybug had instructed.

Indoors, however, the tight quarters made it much more difficult to keep the akuma occupied and stay out of harm’s way. As they reached the middle of the studio, Chat backed up into a lone tripod and lost his footing. The akuma used the opportunity to strike him with an uppercut that landed him on the ground, disoriented.

“I guess I have to put you down first before I can take care of your Lady friend,” she said as she raised her blackened palm towards Chat, the pendant in the middle of her chest beginning to glow.

Before she fired, however, she heard Ladybug call, “Hey, Night Terror! Leave my Kitty alone and watch the birdie instead!”

The woman looked around in confusion to find the source of the voice, only to be met by a cacophony of camera clicks and dozens of rapidly flashing lights. Ladybug quickly replaced the flash lightbulbs with fresh ones to continue the onslaught of light, and Chat used the opportunity to knock the akuma over with his staff. The woman shielded her eyes helplessly as she fell with a sharp cry, and Chat yanked the necklace away from her. He flung it across the room to Ladybug, who threw it on the ground and stomped on it.

“Off you go, you pesky butterfly,” Ladybug grumbled as the purified akuma fluttered away. She called for the Miraculous Cure and tossed the polka dotted flash bulb into the air, and everything around them quickly went back to normal.

The former akumatized victim sat on the floor, massaging her temple with a light groan.

“Uggghhh, where am I?”

Chat Noir knelt down beside her and asked, “Are you alright, ma’am?”

The woman turned her head towards him, opening her mouth to answer, but shrieked upon recognizing who was speaking to her. “Chat Noir!! S-stay back! Wh-what do you want?!”

Chat’s expression fell and he raised his hands to show he meant no harm, backing away with a quiet apology.

Ladybug made her way towards them, clambering over the plethora of cables and photography equipment. She placed her hand on Chat’s shoulder and explained, “It’s okay, don’t be afraid. Chat Noir works with me now. He’s here to help. You were akumatized. Can you tell us the last thing you remember?”

The three made their way out of the building while the young woman prattled at length about a group project she’d been a part of for the past few weeks that had been making her life a living nightmare. Hours before the due date, one of the group members had revealed that they hadn’t completed any of the assignment, and everything else just fell apart. Ladybug and Chat groaned in understanding and solidarity.

“Group projects are the worst,” they all agreed.

Before they could offer to walk the akuma victim home, however, a barrage of video cameras and microphones was shoved in their faces, startling them back into the moment.

Reporters.

Lots of them.

Ladybug sensed Chat stiffen beside her in discomfort.

Then the bombardment of questions began.

“Ladybug! Are you and Chat Noir working together now?”

“Is this permanent or just a temporary alliance?”

Ladybug donned her professional interviewee persona and began the tedious task of clearing up some of the events that had happened recently.

“Chat Noir and I are now allies, and we’ll be fighting Hawkmoth as a team from now on,” she stated simply.

“Why has Chat Noir worked with Hawkmoth until now?”

Ladybug answered, “Hawkmoth has been controlling and blackmailing Chat Noir for the past few years, and he’s only recently managed to escape him. Hawkmoth is the true villain.”

An angrier voice clamored, “What are you going to do to keep your cat on a leash?! He can’t be trusted!”

“Will you be taking his miraculous away as punishment?”

“Did you find out Chat Noir’s identity and threaten him to help you?”

“Did you kidnap and brainwash him with your ladybug magic?”

Ladybug fought the urge to facepalm herself all the way to Mars. This was quickly spiraling out of control. “Ugh, wow. No, that is not how magic works. Unlike Hawkmoth, I’m not threatening him or coercing him.”

A familiar face popped up from behind another reporter. “Ladybug, are you and Chat Noir sleeping together?”

Chat flinched in horror, looking quite like he’d swallowed a fly, but Ladybug managed to answer with a straight face and stern voice, “That question is highly inappropriate and I won’t be answering it, Nadja .

Nadja Chamack didn’t seem to be phased by the fiery glare that Ladybug was sending in her direction; but before she could follow up with another invasive question, a friendly voice by a certain bespectacled novice reporter chimed in, “Mr. Noir! What brought about this change of heart?”

Ladybug bit back a reprimand about how Alya should really be home at this hour, and instead, stepped to the side to let Chat handle the question. She’d been wanting to shield him from all of this intrusive media attention, since he probably wasn’t used to all the unwarranted personal questions. But she also understood both the need for him to experience this, and the fact that he was perfectly capable of standing up to them on his own.

Chat replied somewhat timidly, “I… I guess I realized that he was going too far. I was trying to help a loved one, and he led me to believe that we needed the ladybug miraculous’ powers to save them. He told me that we were doing a good thing. But I didn’t realize just how much our actions would affect everyone else, until now. I’m truly sorry I’ve caused you all so much trouble these past few years.”

Someone in the back yelled, “Simply saying ‘Sorry’ isn’t gonna fix everything!”

Chat resisted the urge to shrink away. He replied, “I know it won’t. What I did was wrong. And there’s nothing I can do to change the past. But actions speak louder than words, so I’ll just have to prove myself to you. I promise that you have nothing to fear from me. I’m here by my own volition, not because Ladybug is forcing me. I truly want to make up for all the wrongs the people of Paris have had to suffer. From now on, I’ll do my best to atone by helping Ladybug protect the city, and we will bring Hawkmoth to justice.”

The multitude murmured and buzzed with equal parts uncertainty and interest, still trying to figure out the new hero.

A sharp trill broke through the air, and Ladybug had never been as grateful to hear her earrings beep as she was at this moment.

“We have to go. Will the police please escort this young lady home?” she asked, making eye contact with the police officers nearby, and they nodded in reply.

She motioned for Chat to follow, and they disappeared into the skyline together.

Before she and Chat parted ways themselves, however, he tugged on her sleeve to get her attention. She turned her body to face his, looking up into his concerned eyes.

“We don’t have much time; I’ve only got about ten more minutes left til I transform back,” he said. “But I think it’s finally time I tell you about my mom.”

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

Notes:

Chat Noir's "Black Hole" ability from this chapter was based on one of Chat's powers in the original PV version, as seen in the concept art below:

Next chapter: The first day of school! It's the last year before they graduate, and they'll be meeting up with some of their old friends and classmates.... Including a certain two-faced brunette with a penchant for lying >:3

#Discordant Sonata #Miraculous Ladybug #Ladynoir #Enemies AU #Marinette Dupain Cheng #Adrien Agreste #fanfiction #Eden writes

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chalcid · 3 years

Text

9: Follow the Swords (Disappear

I was solid, again, I think. The world still resembled an abstract painting I made in third grade, but I staggered to my feet. Wild Magic was like the worst amusement park ride ever, but it has sure helped me appreciate the feeling of my boots on the ground.

As the world began to stop swirling and churning before my eyes, I could make out Edonia and Kev.

"You weren't there before," I think Edonia said. It was hard to tell in this dreamy state.

"Hey guys," I said weakly "So, I just had a really bizarre encounter with the guitarist from Thordis's band and I think we're supposed to follow the swords."

"Swords?" Kev asked "A guitarist? What?"

"Hang on," Edonia said "How do we know you're the real Merika?"

"Test me."

"How do you classify any objects you find when you're not sure where it's from or what it is."

"Usually by whatever's going on in my life at the time, along with relevant information, like the School Dance Vase or the Unit 3 half a pot," I replied.

"It's her," Edonia said to Kev.

Kev hugged me tightly. "I'm glad you are okay."

"Me too," I replied.

"Look," Kev said "Swords. We should follow those right?"

"Yeah," I confirmed.

Swords, heavily rusted from who knows how many years of rain were stuck blade first into the ground like they were garden lights. It was almost annoying how painfully obvious it was.

We had wandered the woods for several hours. I was absolutely soaked to the bone, although the rain had stopped. Curse my arrogance. Umbrellas, as it turned out, were not for the weak but for the clever, and oh, what a fool I was.

"Kev," I said, "If anyone ever offers to teleport you with Wild Magic, ask them for a map instead."

"I will."

We plodded on a bit longer.

"End of the line," Edonia said, holding her arm out to bring us to a halt. "There are no more swords."

I glanced at the swords, and then glanced up. There was a curtain of ivy concealing the ruins at the end of the path.

"Open the ivy-curtain," I mumbled, sitting down on a tree stump. "I need to sit for a moment."

"Okay," Edonia said. She glanced at me, and then at the ivy-curtain. "You don't think that the... the spirit who told you all this was lying? This could very well be a trap."

"I know them," I said "I mean, I met them once, and they didn't say anything to me, but they seem cool."

"Did they ask for something in return?" Edonia fretted "What did you promise them?"

"Just that I would buy them some coffee. They get to choose when and where, though."

Edonia relaxed "Then we probably won't die walking into here. You two wait here, I'll scout ahead."

She parted the ivy-curtain and disappeared inside.

"It's past my bedtime," Kev said, moving to stand beside me. "Our family must be super worried."

I chuckled bitterly "You're a good kid, Kev. I'm so sorry I dragged you all the way out here."

"I didn't want you to be lost and far away from home all alone," Kev said, touching my arm.

"I should have been firmer. I should have lied," I buried my head in my hands "I do reckless, stupid stuff all the time and everyone's used to me just... running off. Disappearing. I shouldn't have let you come with me."

"You'd be out here with just Edonia," Kev argued.

"So what? Eddy is an absolute wizard and she knows all kinds of cool things and she's got her life put together."

"You're my sister," Kev said "Sisters are there for each other, right?"

I sighed deeply "This isn't you keeping me out of trouble. This is me dragging you right into it."

Kev didn't answer that.

Edonia poked her head out of the ivy "Okay, it's safe."

"Wait," I said "What did I get you for your last birthday?"

"A pocket watch from an Asterellan shipwreck with amethysts," Edonia replied.

"Okay, it's her," I said mostly to myself. "Let's go check out these ruins already.

I pulled open the ivy curtain "After you,"

Something echoed back "No, after you."

The ruins were absolutely creepy. I mean, the whole woods were creepy, sure, but the village was a completely different kind of creepy. I expected it to be like the rest of the woods with the black and red trees and bones and swords and things whispering about you in the shadows.

Here, there was grass, good old green grass poking up from the dirt. The trees were cleared in an almost perfect circle. The actual village had been sunk into the mud, leaving only the crooked tops of the buildings. The only structure left untouched was a tower on the opposite side of the woods.

"I don't think we should try and go into any of the houses," I informed Edonia. She nodded in agreement.

"Anything interesting has got to be covered in mud," Edonia sighed "If it wasn't so dangerous, maybe we could excavate the place, but..."

"Let the past be buried this time. Cheer up, there might be something cool in the tower," I said. I paused "Actually, everyone, take a turn-back-check. It's here, we saw it," I fumbled with my phone and snapped a few pictures "And now we have photos. So, at this point, it technically wouldn't be a loss if we went home."

"Let's check out the tower and then head home," Edonia said "This is the only chance to explore here we've got."

I glanced up at the stars in the sky "We could come back when it's daytime."

"No, we should see this through," Kev said.

"Curses. I hate it when I'm the sensible one. Alright, let's go check out this tower, but there has to be something cool I can bring home or I'm going to scream."

"Sounds fair," Edonia said "Just don't scream while we're here, or the Calandra Deer might mistake you for a mate."

The thought generated a large amount of yikes.

Runes were gouged in the tower's wood. I squinted at them. Yep, that wasn't written in a language I could understand. They did look vaguely similar to the runes on Deyanira's skin, though. The same language maybe? I took a picture.

Edonia pushed the door open, and we stepped into the tower. She turned on her flashlight and begun swinging the light back and forth.

"Wait," I said.

She froze.

"Up and to the right a little."

The light hit a mural. I took a picture.

"The Calandra Deer," Kev said, touching the paint carefully "And the village."

It was a gruesome painting. People screaming. Blood everywhere. Calandra Deer with arms and legs in their mouths. But...

"Did someone just... stop and paint everything in detail while everyone else was packing up," I questioned. "Edonia, to the right, please."

Another mural. Fire raining from the sky while ships sailed away. The castle looked like the old Mariveyan one in pictures, but the Bazflamep flag was raised. Ships were sailing away.

"This would be the war," I said.

"But that would have been hundreds of years after anyone lived here," Edonia said. The light fell on the third mural.

"And I have no idea what this is," I declared.

There were a group of singers in a circle, heads bowed. In the background, there were more people playing instruments, a couple with swords, and plenty of people using various water magics. A stormy sea with waves ten times as tall as them, at least. And a water demon with a crown and some sort of weird blue lightning.

Wait. That wasn't lightning, it was the barrier.

The barrier cracking.

"This is weird," I announced "How could anyone have known anyone about this."

"Let's search the place," Edonia suggested. "Maybe the resident kept a diary?"

She shone the flashlight around the room, while Kev and I checked under things and on top of things.

"Nothing in here," Kev declared.

"Let's check upstairs then," Edonia decided.

"Watch your step," I warned Kev "Old staircase are rarely stable."

Luckily, we made it up the steps without incident. And... jackpot! A desk.

"Logical place to keep a diary, right," I said, gesturing to the desk.

"Maybe a bit obvious," Kev said skeptically.

"Maybe. But let's check anyway," I said.

Edonia passed Kev the flashlight and opened the drawers. "Nothing... wait, no, I spoke too soon," she pulled out a book and held it aloft like a divine scroll of knowledge. "This is it. I hope."

Something thumped, and we all jumped.

"Hey, let's get out of here," Kev suggested.

"Fully agreed," I said. I glanced at a table "Ooh, shiny. Could I take this with me?" I asked, pocketing a ring of some sort.

"Sure. Let's just get home. My family must be terribly worried," Edonia fretted.

"Ours too," Kev said.

We all glanced at each other. There was another thump.

We sprinted for the door, slammed it shut, and raced back into the woods proper. The heavy rain had returned, so did my terror.

"Keep the flashlight on," I suggested "Maybe it could scare off predators? We could link hands, too, so as not to get separated again."

"Smart," Kev said.

I grabbed Edonia's hand and Kev grabbed mine and we all stumbled through the woods until we found a road.

"Oh thank the stars," Edonia said, collapsing into the roadside grass. "I'm never doing that again. But we've got the diary, and we can read it together tomorrow after school."

"Sounds great," I said, patting the pocket with the diary and the ring to make sure they were still there. "I'm going to call a ride home."

I dialed Uncle Decimus. He picked up almost immediately.

"Merika? Are you hurt? It's two in the morning, what happened?"

"Uncle Decimus, I'm somewhere outside Bramble Woods. I'm not sure where. I need a ride, but I'm not alone."

"What?" he exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, that came out confusing. I set out on what I thought would be a fun adventure in the rain this afternoon and then it went downhill. My friends and I, we found the road though. We're scared, please come and get us."

"I'm on my way," he declared.

"Okay, Uncle Decimus is coming to pick us up," I announced "Let's just sit tight for now."

It started raining even harder. Kev whistled quietly to herself. I vaguely recognized the tune as a theme song to something Lawrence watched.

I spotted a car zooming down the road at ten above the speed limit and pointed "I think that's him!"

The driver rolled down the window, and it was, in fact, Uncle Decimus.

"Merika," he shouted.

I waved, and he parked the car next to us. "Oh, you girls look so pale... No wait, you might just be naturally pasty, but Merika, you shouldn't be that color. You're halfway dead."

He paused his speech to embrace me only to pull away and mutter something like "So cold."

"Thank you, Mr. Saltwaters," Edonia said politely.

"Yeah, thanks," Kev piped up.

Uncle Decimus rubbed his eyes and stared at her "You're a child. Why is this child accompanying you on a dangerous quest."

"She invoked my emotional weakness and I couldn't say no," I mumbled "Never again."

"Never again is right. Get in the car, kids, I'll take you wherever you need to go."

"Thank you," Edonia said again. She glanced at me "Should we test to make sure it's really him?"

"Nah," I decided "He didn't come from the woods."

"What?" Uncle Decimus asked.

"Wild magic," I spread my arms "It's real. I'll tell you more about it on the ride home."

Uncle Decimus opened the the door, and Edonia and Kev moved the window shield to squeeze into the backseat.

I plopped down next to them, and to home we rode.

#writing #wip disappear

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shikai-the-storyteller · 4 years

Text

Been feeling under the weather all day so I finally started SWSH and put a couple hours into it here are some of my initial thoughts:

Chairman Rose: Welcome to the world of Pokemon! Me: Oh you’re definitely the bad guy. I’m definitely gonna have to kick your butt at some point I just know it

Ok first of all I just want to say I frickin love the poses I can do for my trainer card and the SECOND I saw this one I actually shouted “YES” out loud. Everyone, meet ya girl Orion. (I’ve since updated my shirt and tweaked a few things but I forgot to take a picture of that).

I love all the starters, but Soccer Is My Life so Scorbunny won me over (Grookey was a close second though)

I’m weak to bunny fistbumps.....

Hop is a sweetheart and I already know by the end of this game I'm gonna be crying...Hop you're trying so hard to be the best like your bro but I've been playing this game since before you were born, YOU HAVE NO CHANCE....

Hop's mom and my character's moms as soon as Hop and I are gone: FINALLY let's go have ladies night *high-fives*

Leon: *appears with his stupid ad-riddled cape and white booty shorts over white pants look* Me: gosh I can't believe how much smut I've seen of this dude on twitter Me after playing the game for 15 minutes: Oh he’s a handsome idiot, that’s why.

I booked it to the first clothing store I saw to change outfits, why you killing me with expensive fashion stuff SWSH???? Let me be a cheapskate in this game I’m begging you I DON’T WANNA PAY $20 FOR A SHIRT IRL OR IN A VIDEO GAME

It was actually super cool seeing all the gym leaders walk out an get introduced but for a moment I was like “Oh shoot am I gonna fight them all here??? Right now??? I mean I totally could but that sucks that I don’t get to go to different cities / gyms” and then the celebration ended and I was like “Oh ok then” lmao.

Which also begs the question: did all the gym leaders (minus one) just come on out specifically to walk across the stage and show off? Man no wonder Goth Gym Leader dude stayed home, I would’ve too

I forgot fighting gal wasn’t in this game.... :( I’m sorry fighting girl you were really cute but unfortunately the Galar Unicorn was also cute and I need me one of those

The only reason I know this dude’s name is because everyone ships him with Leon. His sly smile is really cool and I instantly liked him because he seems like he’ll be a fun character (also I have a dragon trainer bias) but then he whipped out his Rotom phone and took a selfie and that cracked me right up

Marnie was so much sweeter than I thought she'd be omg???? I'd die for you sweet goth girl

Bede (or as I like to call him, the Pink British Bastard): OHOHO YOU THINK YOU'RE TOUGH ENOUGH TO DEFEAT ME? Me, oneshotting every single one of his Pokemon: yeah dude

Man I can tell I’ve been playing too much BOTW because my first reaction at seeing the wild area was “Wow that’s kinda small”

I did discover the other half of it later though so I’m somewhat mollified. I love the concept of it though! The only downside is if I see 10 of the same Pokemon in a bunch of grass I’m a little less-inclined to explore that section.

I wasn’t too impressed with the Dynamaxing thing when I first saw the ads for it but it seems fine (I still prefer the Mega-Evos though). I encountered one of the “Special” Raids while nyrooming around the Wild Area too so that was fun.

I'm always worried about under-leveling so I wound up dinking around in the wild area WAYYYY too long and over-leveled my starter and every other pokemon I had lmao

Speaking of, here's my current team layout:

I swapped out my Yamper a bit ago because I found a yellow glowy one and I already feel super bad.....Yamper I love you but GOOD STATS....

I genuinely feel HORRIBLE about switching her out for this new dude I'M SORRY COMPETITIVE POKEMON BREEDING IN XY HAS RUINED ME FOR POKEMON I'LL TRY NOT TO DO THIS TOO MUCH

Me seeing a tympole: Juliana!!! :D The same tympole: *zooms towards me at terrifying speeds* Me: JULIANA NO

I keep stopping Scorbunny (King Kazuma) from evolving because I DONT WANT MY BABY TO GO THROUGH HIS GRUMPY TEEN PHASE YET HES SO CUTE

The curry minigame things are so much fun please let me cook more in video games I love it...

I think my biggest complaint so far is I wish soft-resetting was faster. I love all the “we’ll heal your Pokemon!” folks and the wandering Pokemon, that’s cool (and the little details like the Key Item Escape Rope and the reminders on the map of where I’m supposed to be going at the moment) and the instant access to the PC box.

UH OK ONE MORE THING: I JUST RAN INTO AN EEVEE AND UHHHH THAT”S NOT WHAT YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SOUND LIKE LITTLE BUDDY, DO YOU NEED TO SEE A VET?

Man that’s a bummer, I actually loved Eevee’s old cry. I’m assuming this was a switch after Let’s Go Eevee / Pikachu.

Wild Budew: *uses Worry Seed on my Yamper The Game: Yamper acquired Insomnia! Me, laughing hollowly: Me too

It’s gotten to the point where my Pokemon are so over-leveled I’m legit worried they’ll stop listening to me THIS HAS NEVER HAPPENED BEFORE...WHY DID I DINK AROUND IN THE WILD AREA FOR SO LONG...I’m actively avoiding trainers / pokemon battles trying to get to this dang gym

Milo: Can’t wait to see you at the stadium! :) Me, with my severely over-leveled team and OP fire-type starter Pokemon: Haha yeah....me too

Me: FINALLY the Gym is in sight! Hop: Actually you need to go somewhere else first! Me, shaking him by his shoulders: HOP YOU DON”T UNDERSTAND, I HAVE SIX MINOR-GODS ON MY TEAM I NEED A BADGE TO CONTROL THEM

“All companies running ads are owned by Mr. Rose” oh yeah he’s definitely a bad guy

Aw the little Grass-gym mission is cute, that’s a kinda fun new addition to the gym battles haha.

WHY are the NPC trainer dudes at the Grass gym so CUTE

Aw Milo is cute

“You can now catch Pokemon up to level 25!” ONLY 25??? You’re killing me SWSH

I like that the badges are all pieces of a puzzle! Neat little detail.

#i talk #I'm playing Pokemon #SWSH talk #ALRIGHT I'm exhausted it's time for bed

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goldenhemmings · 6 years

Text

Rivals (Part Three)

Welcome to the third and final part of Rivals. I’ve enjoyed writing it, hope you’ve enjoyed reading it. You can find parts one and two in my masterlist, which I’ve linked here. i don’t know why I insisted on making this so long, so grab a snack or something for the journey. Idk. Enjoy friends.

It was the day of the Robinson-Clark debate, and to say the entire office was simply “nervous” would be an understatement. You had taken the liberty of making a list of talking points and responses for Mr. Clark, and made one copy for every single member of the staff that would be at the debate, so that if Clark were to lose his, the closest staff member would have one on him.

Despite your preparedness, you were stressing more than usual, as you hadn’t been able to get Clark face to face for more than a few minutes in the past few days. You had so much you needed to go over and so many things you needed to check in with him about, but he had been so unavailable. He was a busy man, and of course you knew this, but you felt like you were being prevented from doing your complete job without him there for you to work with. There were so many things you’d needed to prepare him for in person but had had to settle for putting in an email due to his lack of availability. For this reason, you were perhaps more strung out over the debate than the average Clark staffer.

The debate was scheduled for seven in the evening, and you were planning on heading to the event center around four. Clark and Thomas would be there all day, but you had work to finish before arriving, including securing several post-debate interviews for Clark to further discuss his arguments. The election was three days after the debate, so it felt like everything was happening faster than you could keep up with.

You arrived at work around eight in the morning completely ready for the day. You adjusted your olive green dress as you settled in at your desk, crossing one leg over the other as your high-heel clad feet tapped with anticipation. Just as you logged onto your computer, ready to get to work, your office phone rang. You reached to your left to pick up the call, reclining in your chair.

“This is Y/N,” you answered, giving your typical professional greeting.

“Hey, sweetheart.” You rolled your eyes. Shawn. You could practically hear his smirk through the phone.

“How did you get this number?” you asked, already exasperated. This was the last thing you needed, especially today.

Shawn chuckled. “It’s not rocket science to call the main line and ask to be transferred to your office.”

You frowned. Typically the receptionist would pop her head in and tell you that she was about to transfer someone onto your line. “Do you actually need something? I have a huge pile of work I need to get done before the debate and I can’t--”

“Relax, sweetheart, just wanted to check in. Hoping to make hearing your voice a part of my daily routine.” His voice got low, and while that would normally make your stomach flutter, you were not in the mood for Shawn’s antics today.

“You’d better not make bothering me at work a daily thing.”

“Let’s not forget that you bothered me at work first,” he laughed, and you couldn’t help but smile yourself. “Ready for the debate tonight?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you answered, torn between needing to hang up and wanting to stay on the line with him. “Clark is ready, and of course his arguments are superior to Robinson’s. But if I’m being honest, he’s been really unavailable lately and it’s making me nervous. I just hope he’s had time to review the important points he needs to get across.”

Shawn giggled. “We’ll see whose arguments are actually superior. Does it make you even more nervous that I’ve yet to retaliate for that horrendous advertisement you released?”

“You act as though I was the only person who had anything to do with that commercial. And if you’re wanting to retaliate, you’d better make it quick. Wait too long and I’ll start to think you don’t actually have anything up your sleeve.”

“You can think that all you want,” Shawn replied, the typical arrogance ever-present in his tone. “It’ll just leave you that much more shocked when I do stage my comeback.”

You laughed. “I look forward to seeing what you could have possibly gathered on my perfect candidate!”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” he countered, and you could hear the amusement in his voice. You scoffed.

“Well, Shawn, I actually have more important things to do today than talk to you on the phone. You’ll just have to wait until the debate to bother me.”

He giggled, and your smile grew. You were thankful he wasn’t there to see it. “Looking forward to it. See you tonight, sweetheart.” You hung up without another word, your anxiety about the debate only growing higher.

When you finally arrived at the event center, you made a beeline for the backstage area where you were sure Clark would be. You had your folder of all the important papers you needed, and you were ready; you just hoped Clark would be. And right on cue, there was Shawn calling after you as soon as you caught his eye.

“There you are sweetheart! Was wondering when you’d show,” he smirked, but you ignored him and just kept going. He ran to catch up to you, a lock of his hair falling in his face. He looked like a dream in his all-black suit, and you knew you’d allow yourself to be distracted by him if you stopped for even a second.

You didn’t stop walking, so Shawn fell in step alongside you as he started talking. “I realize that you’ve just been so busy working on the campaign that you haven’t had much time to check in face-to-face with Mr. Clark. So, because I’m a gentleman, I took the liberty of checking in on him for you. As it turns out, Mr. Clark has been having a little bit of fun while his wife and son have been campaigning for him in the next town over. Although, it won’t seem like fun anymore once I let it slip to Dr. Robinson.”

“What are you talking about?” you snapped, already fed up, the click-clack of your heels ceasing as you turned to look at Shawn. “If you could just let me do my job for once in your life--”

“Believe me,” Shawn said, cutting you off, “This is worth stopping for.” He flashed you a blurry photograph zoomed in on a side window, clearly depicting your candidate and some blonde woman you didn’t recognize getting hot and heavy on his kitchen table. You felt your blood run cold and saw everything you had been working so hard for turn to dust before your eyes.

“W-What? How did you even find his house? I--” you stuttered, unable to think of what to say as Shawn interrupted you. It finally all made sense; Clark’s unavailability, his lack of focus, and why he’d been away at “meetings” so frequently.

“I’m good like that,” Shawn said, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. “This is how I retaliate. It proves that your candidate is totally unfit for office. This will ruin him.” He said the last part more to himself than to you, and this sent you over the edge. Fuming, you lunged for the photograph, but Shawn reflexively swiped it out of your reach. “Oh don’t be mad, Y/N. Everything can’t always go your way.” He stared back at you, his trademark smug grin plastered on his perfect mouth. You felt frustrated tears sting your eyes as you turned your back to him and stared at the ceiling. You wanted to keep your cool, but the stress from the entire week had made you too strung out by this point. You took a shaky breath and whirled back around to face him, desperate.

“What do I have to do to keep you from giving that to her?” you ask, exasperation evident in your tone. Shawn just chuckled quietly, mocking you with every breath he took. He turned on his heel to walk away, but you were not finished. You had not put in months of tireless, thankless work for it to be sabotaged by someone who you should have the upper hand on. You sprang after him, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcefully spinning him around to face you so that your faces were mere inches apart. Hands still firmly placed on his upper arms, you stared into his brown eyes, suddenly wide. He clearly was not expecting this out-of-character reaction from you and you couldn’t decide if he appeared amused or bewildered. Nevertheless, you pressed him further. “Shawn, I am dead serious. I will do anything, anything, to keep that photograph out of Robinson’s hands. Please. What can I do?”

“You could have dinner with me.”

“What?” You released his arms, laughing and taking a step backwards but maintaining eye contact. You cleared your throat. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am dead serious,” he replied, mocking you yet again, that signature air of cockiness returning to his voice. “Look, I realize my antics make you crazy, but I do like you Y/N. Honestly.”

You stared at him in bemused astonishment, letting out a hot breath of air. “You’re really still on this? I cannot believe that is your condition. You’d really throw away a guaranteed victory for a stupid dinner date?” He immediately shrugged his shoulders and turned to walk away again, but you called after him. You sighed, in utter disbelief that you were actually about to agree to this. “You know what? Fine. If that’s what it takes to keep that photograph hidden...then so be it.”

Shawn smiled. “Name a time and place, sweetheart.”

“I’ll worry about the details later. Now, give me the picture; I have an election to run.”

“We have an election to run,” Shawn corrected, handing over the photograph as he spoke.

“Oh, shut up,” you countered, rolling your eyes and heading towards the stage as Shawn matched your stride.

He nudged your shoulder, teasing, “Make me.” You let out a huff of air and glared at him, turning left towards backstage as Shawn laughed behind you. Much to your dismay, you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit of a smile.

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

To say the debate was disastrous would be putting it gently. You stood in the wings of the stage with Shawn, but you were stone cold while Shawn could barely contain his excitement. Clark was stumbling all over the place. You knew he had intelligent answers and arguments for everything, but his mind was clearly somewhere else. He’d not prepared adequately and it showed. Dr. Robinson, on the other hand, was outperforming him in leaps and bounds. Any time Clark so much as opened his mouth, Robinson was able to shut him down. Thomas was already hiding in a back room, deciding it was less painful to not know what was happening than to have to listen to Clark’s adding fuel to the flames that were consuming his entire campaign effort. The audience was eating Robinson’s words up, and you were sure that every television in the area was tuned in to watch Clark choke on his words.

You felt paralyzed. You could see all of your hard work being destroyed, and it didn’t help that Shawn was standing right next to you letting out a little “yes!” or “perfect” every time Robinson had a good answer--which was every time. Your work the next two days would be nonstop damage control, but deep down you knew that there was nothing that could help Clark recover from this. It had all fallen apart. It was over.

Eventually, Shawn’s excitement got to be too much for you. You huffed and turned away, set on joining Thomas wherever he was hiding. You couldn’t bear to watch the debate for another second. Just as you started to storm away, your hand was being pulled back. You whipped your head around, furious, to face Shawn staring back at you.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, clearly gloating over his candidate’s performance. “Can’t take the heat?”

“God, Shawn, you are such an asshole!” you hissed, snapping your hand out of his grasp. “I’m glad this is so funny to you. My one shot at getting my foot in the door of this industry just went up in flames. Have some fucking empathy.” He stared back at you, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted, clearly not expecting that reaction. You stood there glaring at him for a few seconds and then turned back around, stalking off to find somewhere to be alone with your thoughts. You knew Clark would be looking for you as soon as he got off stage, but you didn’t care. He deserved to be left hanging. While everyone had been working tirelessly on his campaign, he had been putting off his work to have an affair with some stupid gold-digger. He didn’t deserve an ounce of sympathy or another second of your time.

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

The inevitable happened. You knew it would after the debate, but it didn’t mean it hurt any less to officially hear that Robinson had come out on top. It had been three days since Clark lost the election, and you had yet to leave your apartment. You’d been fighting the urge to drink off the loss, but after turning the television on around 6 in the evening to see station after station airing coverage of his concession speech, you could no longer resist. You skulked over to your kitchen, standing on your tiptoes to reach the high cabinet where you kept your small supply of liquor, all of which you’d only bought for small parties held at your apartment. You opted for the fruit-flavored vodka, not even bothering to get a glass as you spun the cap off and took a lengthy swig, unbothered by the burn you felt as it ran down your throat. You slowly slid down the cabinets until you hit the floor, leaning your head back and shutting your eyes.

You were done trying to fight the tears; you had poured your heart and soul into this election, desperate to have a victory under your belt at such a young age. It would undoubtedly have opened up a world of opportunity for you, but now you were back to square one. You took another long chug from the bottle, already beginning to feel its effects slowly sink in and your mind start to finally relax. You were just about to raise it to your lips a third time when you heard your phone ring from the sofa in the living room. You reluctantly stood up and shakily walked around the counter to get to it, only to find it was an unknown number. You picked it up anyways and took a deep breath before answering, “This is Y/N.” You immediately rolled your eyes at the professionalism that had been drilled into you while working on the campaign.

“Hi, sweetheart,” said a familiar voice, and you ran your hand over your face in frustration. Shawn was the last thing you wanted to deal with right now.

“How did you get my number?” you replied bleakly, walking back into the kitchen and towards your trusty bottle, taking another long sip.

“I’m good like that, remember?” Your skin would usually be crawling with anger by now, but you just didn’t have the energy anymore.

“God, you’re a creep.”

“Easy, sweetheart, I’m kidding,” he laughed. “You gave it to me at the debate, remember? I’ve missed hearing from you, it’s been a few days.”

You sighed. The debate and the election were a repressed memory by this point. “What do you want, Shawn?” you asked, but it came out more like a statement than a question.

“You still owe me dinner.”

You laughed, low and emotionlessly. “I’m sure this comes as a surprise to you, but I’m not in the mood for dinner with you now or ever. Go ahead, send that picture to every news outlet in the universe. We already lost.” You said the last part quietly, and hearing yourself say it began a brand new wave of tears. You were sure Shawn could hear you crying through the phone, but you didn’t care. You deserved one night to feel sorry for yourself and give in to how defeated you felt.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Shawn said from the other line, but it wasn’t said in the sarcastic way it usually was. His tone was completely different--soft, even. “I didn’t--Fuck. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” And you knew he meant it. Despite the constant feuding, you and Shawn had one thing in common: How much you each cared about your job. He knew this had to be killing you, and he suddenly felt like the biggest asshole in the world for pestering you.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” you slurred, tears streaming down your face. “You got everything you wanted.”

“No, I--Fuck, Y/N. Is there something I can do? Can I please just--God, I’m so sorry. Can I bring you dinner?” You opened your mouth to protest, but he continued before you could say anything. “I swear I won’t even stay, I’ll just drop it off and then leave. Please, it’s the least I could do.”

Perhaps it was the sudden realization that you had eaten nothing but frozen meals for the past few days or maybe the slight intoxication, but you found yourself actually giving Shawn your address and agreeing to his request. He promised to be over within the hour, and you hung up the phone, bringing the vodka over to the couch with you. You curled up under a blanket, the big t-shirt and pajama pants you’d been in all day not providing much warmth in your cold apartment.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you eventually went to buzz Shawn in, quickly hearing a subsequent knock on your door. Keeping the blanket wrapped around your shoulders, you wiped away your tears and took a deep breath, going over to the door to let Shawn in. You didn’t know why, but opening the door to see him standing there with a bag of takeout in his hands and a look of the most genuine sympathy on his face made tears prick your eyes once more. He stepped inside your apartment, set the food gently on the floor, and without even thinking you were completely enveloped in his arms. You cried as you buried your face into his hoodie, and it felt good to not be alone.

Shawn just let you cry, running his hand soothingly up and down your back, and after what felt like an eternity he pulled you away. He placed his hands on either side of your face, using his thumbs to wipe your tears. “C’mon, let’s get you settled so you can eat.” You nodded, wiping your face dry with the back of your hand and walking over to your couch as Shawn followed with the food. You were drunk and pathetic, but for some reason his presence made you feel better. Perhaps it was the fact that you’d been completely alone for the past three days. You could see Shawn’s face completely fall when he noticed the vodka on your coffee table, but as soon as the look came it was gone. You were silently thankful he hadn’t said anything. You hardly ever drank, and you were already ashamed that you had tonight.

Shawn sat on your couch, bending one leg up and pulling the food out of the bag. He gestured for you to join him, and you laughed despite the circumstances. “I thought you said you weren’t going to stay.”

His face went cold, realizing he had overstepped, and he was suddenly off the couch and setting the food back down. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’ll just--”

“No,” you smiled meekly, grabbing hold of one of his hands. “I’m kidding. I want you to stay.”

Shawn breathed a sigh of relief and smiled as he resumed his original spot on the couch, pulling you down between his legs so that your back was flush against his sturdy chest. You pulled the blanket off of your shoulders, adjusting it so that it was draped over your legs. He handed you the takeout silently, and you popped the lid off and began to eat. The whole situation felt strangely intimate considering the state of your acquaintance, but you were thankful for his company. His reaction to your sadness had been a pleasant surprise; already you could feel the dark cloud beginning to float away.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you eating as Shawn absentmindedly trailed his fingertips along your arm, he cleared his throat. “Um, Y/N...I’m really sorry for how I acted at the debate. I was inconsiderate and selfish. And I, um...I want you to know that the way the election turned out is not a reflection of you. Clark would have been doomed from the beginning without you, and I’m sure I could find a place for you in Robinson’s office and--”

“I don’t need you to come to my rescue, Shawn,” you interrupted, setting the empty plate of food down. “I can take care of myself. I’ll just find another campaign to work on when the next election rolls around.”

“Your skill for this kind of job is not something you should wait to apply. I know you can take care of yourself, I’ve known you were strong from the second you came storming into my office that day, but please let me help you. You don’t deserve to feel like this.”

You turned your body so that you were facing him, while still resting against him. Your chin was tilted up to meet his eyes, and they were cast down to look into yours. “Look at you getting all soft,” you said through a giggle, and he chuckled softly in return.

As the laughter faded out, his eyes never once left yours. “Come work for Robinson,” he coaxed softly. “She’d be lucky to have you, and plus we’d finally be out of that Romeo and Juliet situation we were in before.” This made you laugh, an honest, genuine laugh, and suddenly you’d never wanted anything more than to have an excuse to see Shawn every day.

“I’d call our situation a rivalry. Romeo and Juliet were in love,” you teased, a smile playing at the corner of your mouth.

“Yeah, well,” he sighed, as you rested your head in the crook of his neck and he laid his on top of yours, “Maybe one day.”

Your stomach jumped at the brown-eyed boy’s words and you hummed in content, shutting your eyes and giving into how tired you were. “Might take you up on that,” you mumbled sleepily. You curled into his chest until you were comfortable and breathed in his scent, your exhaustion threatening to take you from consciousness any minute now.

Shawn let out a breath and wrapped his arms around you, and you could tell he was smiling. “Yeah. Let’s not be rivals anymore.”

#there ya fuckin go kids i did it #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes fanfictions #shawn mendes aus #shawn mendes oneshots #shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes imagines #shawn #mendes #shawn peter raul mendes #writing #fanfiction #imagine #imagines #shawn blog

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pseudocitrus · 6 years

Text

touken week day 4: memory

this is a continuation of my previous touken week fic about 240neki and toukachan. it only vaguely follows the touken week prompt though... 😂 this fic is also inspired by this anon!

it doesn’t have exactly all the details you noted,, but, thank you for the inspiration!

~1500 words, contains mostly fluff! excerpt:

It not...exactly secret...but it’s not — it’s not like he was trying to trick Yomo or anything like that. It’s just...he didn’t really know how things would really pan out, so he was just going to remain quiet until he was absolutely sure, but —

“Well?” Yomo asks, and Touka saves him, with a sigh.

“It’s nothing, he’s not sneaking out or anything, he’s just been sleeping in my room,” she explains, bluntly, and Yomo looks at her. At a time like this, Kaneki would expect that even Yomo’s face would betray...something. But he remains as calm as ever.

“I see,” he says. “Then, Ken, please move things into the spare room today, if you’re not going to use it. It’s crowded down here with all the coffee beans.”

“Oh...oh...okay,” Kaneki manages, barely.

“Well?” Yomo asks, and Touka saves him, with a sigh.

“I see,” he says. “Then, Ken, please move things into the spare room today, if you’re not going to use it. It’s crowded down here with all the coffee beans.”

“Oh...oh...okay,” Kaneki manages, barely.

“And I still think it would be a good idea to dye your hair sooner than later,” Yomo adds. It sounds like a soft request, but he’s been saying as much every day since he returned from foraging to find Kaneki sitting in the cafe kitchen with Touka, holding an upturned cup shakily over a growing puddle of coffee.

“Of course,” Kaneki coughs. “Sorry.” There’s really no good excuse for why it isn’t dyed already, except that whenever he and Touka have time to themselves, they usually...end up...being busy.

“I’ll be going then,” Yomo says, and maybe it’s just Kaneki’s own nervousness that makes him suspect Yomo is beating an unusually faster retreat than usual, but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on it because the bell on the door is ringing, and Touka is saying, “See? Not a big deal,” but of course she would say that, Touka is the kind of person that pulls no punches and didn’t even hesitate to ask him, afterward, that day, in the kitchen: “So, were you a virgin?”

“I don’t know why you were so worried,” Touka continues, cleaning off the machine.

“Do you really not know?” Kaneki asks helplessly. “I mean...Yomo is...he protects you, right? He cares about you.”

Touka’s single eye regards him skeptically. “And?”

Kaneki grimaces. Maybe it’s different with ghouls. Despite the time that’s passed he has to admit there are a lot of things about them that he doesn’t quite get. In any case, Touka is glancing up and past him now, and Kaneki follows her gaze to the storefront and to the clock, which says they still have half an hour until opening time. He feels Touka step closer. He looks down and sees her looking up at him.

“Let’s do it one more time before the store opens?”

Direct, and yet her voice is so small and sweet that Kaneki feels himself blush. She rubs his back briskly — right at that place, which she can always find instantly, even over his clothing — and he sucks in a breath and nods quickly and Touka smiles at him beautifully and yanks his apron strings loose.

When Yomo returns after hours, he looks around at the cafe, and then at Kaneki’s hair. He makes no comment, except, “Thanks for moving the beans.”

:::

It’s not the return he always imagined. People are missing — Hide, and Yoshimura, and Hinami and Irimi and Koma and everyone else. But the days pass along calmly, even the ones where CCG investigators come to visit. He remembers, quickly, how to make coffee. Touka and Yomo take him in as easily and simply as if he had always been there, patient with his fumbling and even the nightmares that wake them all up at night. Eventually, the nightmares dwindle. He spends the evenings reading or re-reading the books in the cafe, which all, somehow, are to his taste. Soon, the books pile up at Touka’s — no, at his — no, at their beside, easy to reach even when Touka lies across him contentedly.

It’s not the return he always imagined, but other things exist in this life too, which he could have never dreamed — like waking up beside Touka, feeling the weird nice comfort of her body draped over him, listening to her breathe gently against his chest and combing her hair behind her ear in the sunlight. Sometimes he could cry at the sight of it. Other times, he finds his heart so overflowing that he doesn’t mind getting up and dressed, even if it’s cold, to answer whoever is banging on :re’s back door.

“Excuse me,” Kaneki says, “but please be quiet,” and then he says, “Oh, good morning, senpai,” and Nishiki yawns. He covers his mouth with a hand that’s holding a crinkling, bulging paper bag.

“Yeah, sure, good morning. Where the hell did Touka go last night?”

“Touka-chan?” Kaneki echoes. “Um...she was here.”

“Here?”

“Well — she was sick,” Kaneki explains. “She was throwing up.”

Nishiki sighs before Kaneki can explain his suspicions that she’s trying to practice and steel her stomach before trying to meet Kosaka-san.

“Good thing I got her two, then,” he says, and hands the bag over. Kaneki takes it, with confusion, and uncurls the top to peer in, just to confirm what the smell and the grease stains are telling him.

“Burgers?”

“Sure. Can’t be too careful. Just pretend it’s one each.”

“Each?” Kaneki echoes.

“Well, yeah. Come on, are you stupid? One for Touka, and one for the brat.”

“Brat?”

They stare at each other. They realize it, at the name time. Nishiki groans.

“She’s going to fucking kill me.”

:::

It’s been a long while. He remembers, still, the first time that she stuffed meat into his mouth. The time he managed to stagger down to Anteiku’s cafe after fighting Nishiki, and saw her gingerly fold her sleeves over her bandage. The shock with which she looked at him as he held her at Aogiri, and then, the sharp, stabbing instant of disbelief and hurt when he told her he didn’t want her with him. The time the bandage fell from his eyes and he saw her, again, gazing up at him with peace and pleasure. The many times he’s woken up from dreams in which he’s lost everything and everyone and Touka held him, firmly, for as long as it took for him to stop shaking.

He sits on the edge of the bed, holding the bag. He waits, and eventually Touka begins to stir and stretch and wrinkle her nose.

“What’s that smell,” she grumbles, and Kaneki shakes the bag indicatively, and Touka furrow her brows at him, and then jerks up. She props herself on her arms, looking at the bag, and then at Kaneki, and then sits properly, pulling the blanket over her chest.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” she says, half-heartedly. Kaneki smiles and gives her the bag.

“There’s two,” he says, “one for...one each.”

They are quiet.

“I want to ask you something,” Kaneki says, at the same time Touka says, “I need to tell you something,” and they look at each other, and fall silent.

“You first,” Kaneki offers, and for a second it looks like Touka won’t accept. She looks at the ceiling, taking a breath. Then she looks right at him.

“I’m pregnant,” she says. “It’s not...I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret...or trying to trick you or anything.” She looks down at the bag. “I just...don’t really know if it’ll be born properly anyway, so...I was just going to keep quiet until I knew for sure. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kaneki tells her, and to prove it he reaches for Touka’s flushed cheek, and he holds it. She tips her head up and studies his expression, the smile he’s making for her, genuinely.

“I’m...I’m glad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he realizes. He feels his smile broaden. “Really.”

She shuffles her weight. “Is this what you were going to ask about?”

“No,” he says. “What I wanted to ask you about was how ghouls get married.”

“Wh — what?”

It takes a little while after than — to wade through her shock, to calm her embarrassment, to understand her explanation clearly and then assure her again that he’s serious, yes, he’s really, seriously, serious. He adds this moment to, to his list of times he never wants to forget: when she looks at him, with her uncertainty blooming into a soft, shy, small happiness. She lets the blanket fall, to expose one shoulder, and he inches close to her, and wraps his arms around her body. His body shivers as she leans against him. He kisses her gently, and then opens his mouth a little wider.

:::

Afterward, his shoulder aches as much as his chest. He presses his finger to the mark on her shoulder, which is healing, slowly. Even the edges of it, though, are already silvery, and his heart races a little to see it. His mark. On Touka.

She grimaces at him, uncomfortable with his staring, but before he can apologize she spreads her arms, and he breaks eye contact to lay against her happily. She embraces him. She rests her head on his and strokes his hair.

“Looks like we won’t have to dye your hair after all,” she says after a moment, and Kaneki stirs.

“Hmm?”

She has to reach around for her phone to take a picture so that he can see it. Even then, he has to zoom a bit. But they’re there, as clear as morning: black hairs, growing on top of his head, stark against the white.

#toukenweek #touken #kanetou #kaneki ken #kirishima touka #tg #mine #ahhhhhhhhhhhh #idk if i can get the remaining days.......#though....i do have one last entry completed already lmao

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eris0330 · 7 years

Text

Hiraeth - Part Two

☽Pairing☾ ; BTS | Reader

☽Genre☾ ; Angst | Fluff

☽Word Count☾ ; 2.4k

☽Summary☾ Returning back to Korea after years of being under the ground, to see your parents. You wished it was all it took, to feel complete again. The aftermath of confusion, betrayal and sorrow was the reason to never come back into the boys presents. But it wasn’t until, seeing one them enter the same cafe, at the right time.

☽M. List☾ ; 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7 // 8 // 9 // 10 // 11 // 12 // 13 // 14 // 15 // 16 // 17 // 18 // 19 // 20 // 21 // 22 [ongoing]

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“Misu, there aren’t any appointments for me today, so I will be leaving early"

Your head spinning to find the familiar sound come closer, her black hair covering the dark circles underneath, while rummaging through her bag. The sound of keys and her heavy heels punishing the white marble floor. The woman in front, assumed to be Misu, was feeling baffled while trying to keep her concentration on you.

“Miss, I think-”

“-Not now Misu, my kid is already complaining to my husband about dinner. And I CANNOT have him make my kitchen, look like the zoo with wild monkeys” Misu’s interrupted sentence by Jane, sent a shiver down her spine as Jane walked further towards the counter. Her hands hovering above a notepad, with the pen barely touching the white scribbled paper before her eyes turned your way. Her head tilted in curiosity, while turning around to get a proper look. She was examining you, like she always did. It wasn’t just a regular thing, but it was a bad habit for her to do it all the time since the accident.

“Miss Kim, this young lady was looking for you…” Misu commented, patting a hand on your shoulder as if it was for comfort. Jane barely made any response, before she stepped closer. She was tall, skinny but full of life whenever you two talked. Energetic, even in her thirties she tried to confront the level of youth to her own phase. There was something inside yourself, that went off and told you to run. Part of you didn’t understand and wanted to retreat to the nearest hide out, if it wasn’t for the hand touching your shaking arm. She was warm, just as you remembered. Her almond shaped eyes and lips quivering as seconds passed, while the sound of your throat trying to make out a simple greeting. The silence was killing you, but it was like you were communicating through your eyes. Intimidation at the touch of her hand brushing lightly at the scar on your cheekbone, and the smell of fruits tickling your nostrils. The nostalgic smell making your eyes water, as a familiar smile approached. Her dark red coloured lips curving at the realisation, and tugging you into a hug. A feel of warmth and comfort, making you cry of the closeness of another human being. Not just anyone, but a friend.

“I knew you would come back some day…” Her angelic voice cracking in the process of her words, hugging you tighter to feel the presence of memories. Before, you were confused and wanted to run away as soon as possible. Now, you want to stay forever and never run away like the child you once were.

Seated in the dark room and the dim light of a lamp making it feel cosier, you were seated in the brown lounge chair admiring the paper sketches of her family. Her chin leaning on her hand, like she usually did but eventually talked. Right now, she couldn’t speak than smile. Examining your face and posture, the admiration of the courage you never had, rise within. Jane had barely changed, despite the slight fine lines appearing under her dark circles.

“How are you doing, Y/N? How has everything been?” She finally questioned, resisting the urge to hug you again after years passing.

“Better. It’s been a wild ride… but it’s been going my phase, can’t complain.” You chuckled, closing your eyes of the memories playing of the new people who took you in their care.

“What made you decide to come back?” She continues to question, making your legs shake at the leather fabric. The thought had barely crossed, of that the reason was to see your parents and leave. But, not after today. “I wanted to see my parents…-” You trailed off, looking to the outside while the rain drops hit the cleaned window mirror. Your eyes averting to feel the shame of the true reasons, that would probably be impossible.

“You weren’t just here for your parents… You know, I can tell there is something else.” Jane replied firmly, making your attention return with furrowed brows. “How is that?” You questioned in shock, as she pointed towards your body while smirking lightly.

“You fiddle with your shirt whenever you leave something unspoken.” She answered, making your eyes follow to see that she was right. Your fingers had created marks on your shirt, as if it was the first time you had realised. It had always been a bad habit, but you tried eagerly to hide it whenever you were speaking in public.

“…I wanted to see how the boys were doing…” You whispered, looking down on your worn out black boots at the thought of Jungkook in the café. Maybe it was the real intention to go back, to reunite in their presence of warmth. The smiles that you love so much, replay at every minute as you returned the gratitude. Jane sighed lightly, before fetching her phone from the brown bag on her side.

“Do you want the truth, or do I need to sugar coat it?” She spoke bluntly, looking you straight in the eye as if she already knew the answer. You raised a brow, as if it was the first time you were to one of Jane’s sessions. It was a clear answer, that you preferred the truth rather than a sweetened lie. Though, you couldn’t help but feel the shame over wash when you could barely fulfill the plea yourself back then.

“I haven’t spoken to all of them… but I can tell that they are doing well in the industry. One of them, has come to me from time to time. Some… come to me for the feel of giving someone the fault of your accident….” She continued to speak, and the exhaustion hit her as she retreated to her original position. Your stomach turning of the memories, and the unleashed feelings of sorrow.

“I disbanded from the group… but that’s all I know” You mumbled, looking down on the sweaty hands of yours as the thought of the news, that you were going to be cut from the world outside. A new life, was in the process of being developed.

“…They still act like they talk to you” Jane confessed, making your eyes wide at her words. Your back tensing, as she rubbed her temples softly. “-I’m believing it’s a way to make the fans not worry… but also a way to sooth their hearts of a loss” She continued, making your eyes burn at the thought. You betrayed them, in the most cruel way. There wasn’t a way to come back, not after all of this. It would be hurtful, to come back in their presence if nothing had happened.

“Taehyung… loved to take pictures?” Jane questioned, making you nod in return. The remembrance of you two walking on the street, with his new camera trying to find something that pleased the eye. Selfies, and even sceneries making yourself warm of his smile that became so proud of his work.

“He had an Instagram… it was his one and only source besides Twitter.” You mumbled, remembering his pleas of help to find a name. Since ‘CGV’ was taken, he was at a loss and tried to mix his name with other artists, almost forgetting he is one himself.

“He stopped posting anything after your disappearance.” Another cruel confession, making your heart tight. Taehyung loved that account, that he even showed it off so many times as he could. His followers and encouraging words to him and others, were enough to keep his day bright. And thinking now, you’re the reason he couldn’t do it anymore, made you cry.

“I’m so sorry…” You whispered, as if it was the first time of many incoming. It was a habit, no, more than just a habit to apologise. Your stupidity at choosing the wrong thing, in hopes of not hurting anyone. But in reality, it hurts everyone. Or so, that’s what people had made you believe.

“The leader created one, a year or so after your absence. It’s still active, take a look…” Jane brushing a hot tear away, to push her phone into your hands. Your fingers shaking against the screenname, and the pictures of a familiar. His dimples, his smile and fashionable self-presented on social media. He has become skinnier, just like Jungkook and you became worried. What about the others?

“He misses you, Y/N. I think they all do…” Jane whispered with a light smile, making your chest heavy. Your finger brushing lightly at the first picture, to see it zoomed in on his face in detail. The way he looked so casual and the monochrome, was pulling your artistic heart. But, the tears fell in seconds. Your smile fading, but returning again in pain. The caption of his photo, only posted a month ago, was as if fate played with you. It was enough, to assure you that HE was waiting to the day, you would finally be back.

“Namjoon… Wait for me just a bit longer” You choked, with a smile. The feel of courage, that it was time to get yourself back. The you, who never left.

-----------

“Jungkook you should have come home sooner, we already ate dinner” Jin scolded the youngest, as Jungkook proceeded to walk inside to see the leftovers on a plate.

“Sorry, had to get some coffee on the way” The youngest excused, seating himself at the kitchen island before he munched on the half-warm food. Leftovers wasn’t a surprise, but always succeeded to make his stomach happy. Jin raised a brow, while seating himself on the opposite side.

“It doesn’t usually take this long to grab coffee on the way back from BigHit?” He questioned curiously, making Jungkook shake his head as if to disregard the thought. Chewing hard on the food, Jin gave him ‘the look’, as any other would do to make him speak. “Seriously, it’s nothing” Jungkook spoke with food stored in his cheeks, making Jin tilted his head in the process. It didn’t take long, before the youngest got tired of it and decided to speak his mind.

“I saw someone…” Jungkook spoke softly, looking into Jin’s eyes as they rolled back in response. “We have talked about this, don’t pick on girls you just met. It will give the press something to gossip about, if you’re not careful enough.” Jin responded firmly, before making Jungkook choke on his food.

“NO! God no!” He coughed, drinking the glass of water that Jin fetched for him. “I think I saw Y/N in the café…” He trailed off, leaving the kitchen in silence as the sound of his pulse vibrating. Jin’s eyes became dark and clouded, at the sound of your name in a sentence. That’s what it always did, and a reason why no one dared to speak of it.

“If this is one of your stupid pranks, it’s not funny.” Jin stated, crossing his arms as Jungkook looked down in disbelief on his plate. “You know I would never do something like that… specially when it’s about her.” He whispered, poking at his food, feeling confused over the sight of your familiar posture at the café. But something was off, when it came to get a clear sight as you turned away. Something told him to see better, but he was too scared. What if it were you? What if it weren’t? He couldn’t bare the disappointment if it wasn’t, not again.

“Let’s imagine it was Y/N that you saw in the café, why didn’t you go speak to her?” Jin questioned the thing Jungkook would rather not answer, knowing it would seem stupid and cowardly of all things.

“Because I couldn’t. After she disappeared, I couldn’t get my eyes to see others than her! The way her hair was so long and tickling my face on a daily basis, her smile that always mirrored my own. I saw her everywhere I went, without even trying to search. Haunting my dreams, waking up to call out her name. I always get the wrong person… whenever I think I have finally found her….“ The youngest could feel the tears pool in the corner of his eyes, remembering the failed attempts to retreat an explanation. An explanation, of why. His throat feeling like it’s burning at his words, shouting at the eldest and responded with shock. Jin could understand the frustration on the youngest, as he went over to pat the boy’s shoulder with comfort.

"It’s okay…” Jin whispered softly, as Jungkook’s body were shaking at his touch. “No, it’s not…” He replied under his breath, as Jin could only close his eyes. Everyone in the group, was feeling at fault of your attempt. They always found a way, to blame themselves for their obvious selfishness, to not realise your suffering. It was something, that kept them awake at night whenever it had the chance. A chance, to haunt them to their lives end.

“I tried going back, because I wanted to be sure… but she was gone…” Jungkook muttered in anger, that he might have had the chance to see you once again, but his scared personality to fail was taking over him.

“You’re hundred percent sure, that you saw her?” Jin questioned, seating beside the youngest, as Jungkook’s blood shot eyes were burning. Nodding as an answer, before biting on his lip. Was he going to be scolded again?

“Let’s try to search for her again… Just the two of us. I don’t think the others are ready yet…” Jin continued, making Jungkook look up in shock on the eldest. His arms embracing his friend, as he felt a light of hope rise within.

“Thank you…” Jungkook muttered in between his silent cries, making Jin pat his back in reassurance that he wasn’t allowed to be alone in this. The others were a wreck in their own destructible way of trying to get over the thought of your absence, that if they knew about their mission, they would never forgive him if he never found anything useful. On the other side of the kitchen wall, a blonde-haired man was listening carefully to the conversation. His heart clenching at the information and tears falling on his cheeks, knowing it would be another spiral of lies. Jimin, were going to keep it quiet, but as everyone knew, a bomb could explode any time.

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fandomsentertainment · 6 years

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Iqi: Arrival Chapter Nine

You can read the whole story on Wattpad

https://www.wattpad.com/story/135795678-iqi-arrival

“Fuck! That little cunt planned this all along!” Hermione paced the room angrily.

“Calm down this was clearly something that was a long time coming,” Dr. Willoughby said re watching the scenes with the Selkie in it from the press conference. “Obviously she meant to release this information slowly to the public, but Iqi’s arrival delayed her plans and the recent hacking forced her to accelerate them. I doubt she did this with an malintent. If anything I’d say she looks quite reluctant to release this information.”

“Still do you know what this means for Iqi! Know one's gonna want to see him anymore. All they’re gonna care about are those stupid fucking Selkie!” Hermione ranted.

“People will obviously still love and care about Iqi. That doesn’t go away just because he’s no longer the brand new humanoid species. The only thing that might really change is the amount people are willing to pay to see him. But those sessions were never about the money. Right?” Dr. Willoughby said.

“Right,” I agreed.

Hermione went silent, still steaming about the announcement of the Selkies. Personally I found them interesting. If they were cousins of humanity then they were cousins of mine as well. It seemed almost like the perfect fit. The skies for me, the land for man and the sea for the Selkie. I smiled at the thought of one day meeting these Selkie.

“I want to meet them,” I told Dr. Willoughby.

“Of course you do,” she smiled. “I’m sure that meeting is inevitable. It feels like so sort of metaphor huh. Sky and sea meeting for the first time.”

“I was thinking the same thing!” I grinned.

She patted my head. “You’re pretty clever Iqi. I wonder if the Selkie are at the same level of intelligence as us.”

The doorbell suddenly rang.

“Finally the fucking food is here,” Hermione grumbled getting up.

“Security will get it. You don’t have to get up,” Dr. Willoughby said.

“Yeah, but since you and Iqi decided you would order food for everyone they’re probably gonna take their sweet time giving us our food,” Hermione stalked off.

“Why is Hermione so upset ?” I sighed.

Dr. Willoughby didn’t answer. But kept pausing and zooming in on different parts of the Selkie.

My wings flapped restlessly. Maybe Hermione was right. Maybe humans love for me was only temporary, so long as I was a novelty. I wondered if I could be happy knowing I was at least loved by my sister and Dr. Willoughby. A sudden pang in my heart told me otherwise. I loved humans, and I want them to love me too.

“Dr. Willoughby?” I asked.

“Yes, Iqi.”

“Should I say something? Like to the public. About the Selkie.”

Dr. Willoughby paused the tv and sat back thinking intently.

“I think you will be expected to,” she finally said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if a handful of speeches for you to give were being written right now by the HIC.”

“The hic?” I asked.

She smiled at me. “It’s an abbreviation of the Human Intergalactic Council. President Tapiwa will definitely give a speech either today or tomorrow. They’ll probably want video footage of your meeting with Ms. Ahuja and the Selkie so you’ll definitely be expected to give some kind of speech then or even before then.”

“Here’s the food,” Hermione grumbled walking back into the living room.

I could smell the heavenly spices wafting from the bag already and my mouth began to salivate. This was a fairly new experience for me. In general food when space traveling doesn’t have much flavor and needs to be rationed for weight control. On a planet however you can have as much food as you want with as many flavors that are available. But humans were unique in the fact that they’d try to eat anything at least once. Anything that was edible on their planet they consumed it.

Since the only true way to know if something was edile or not was to try it many species had a limited palette because who would be crazy enough to put something unknown into their bodies! Since the humans were in fact crazy enough they had acquired an enormous palette unmatched by any other species, even scavengers.

Human food had flavors and textures unlike any in the know universe. At first I was nervous about trying human foods since I was technically a brand new species and no one knew how my body would react to certain things. But Hermione was persistent and now food was no longer a duty but an experience for me. I eagerly took the bag from Hermione’s hands as she sat down beside us.

“President Tapiwa wants to see you Iqi,” she said.

“Already?” I asked funneling the rice into my mouth.

“Yeah, I just got off the phone with her. She’s actually coming here for once. She wants to avoid exposing you to the public right now.”

“Oh,” I said. “Wait so what about my Tuesday session!”

“Gotta cancel,” Hermione said biting a chunk out of her chicken. “We’ve never had to cancel before so we’ll need to write a generic letter to send everyone.”

“But… that’s not fair! I was looking forward to that! The people coming were looking forward to it!”

“Blame Ms. Ahuja for that one,” Hermione said nonchalant.

I looked down at my food.

“I know you were looking forward to this Iqi,” Dr. Willoughby said placing her hand on my leg. “And I know you don’t want to disappoint anyone but it’s for security reasons. Just give them back they’re money and right a genuine apology and it’ll be fine.”

I nodded sighing. “I just don’t get why the Selkie being announced puts me in danger?”

“President Tapiwa is probably protecting you from bad press. People will want to ask you about the Selkie and she wants to be in control of the narrative rather than letting people go wild with assumption.”

“I understand. But still…” I muttered.

“Well, regardly of the reason she’ll be here in three hours so make sure you clean yourself up,” Hermione said.

I frowned. Cleaning my wings was a real chore, I usually washed up about twice a week and had started to line up my wash days with the sessions. But now not knowing how long I wouldn’t be allowed sessions, this might mess up my schedule.

“I’ll help you wash them, Iqi,” Hermione smiled touching my face.

“Thank you,” I returned the smile.

President Tapiwa and her security arrived at seven p.m. She was dressed in a sharp suit, much more masculine than the one Katherine was wearing. She sat across from me at the desk set up in my bedroom.

“Iqi, thank you for hosting me,” she smiled warmly.

“Thank you for coming,” I replied.

“I’m sorry about you having to cancel your sessions, I know those are important to you,” she started off. “But with this new and surprising development it’s important we all share the same narrative.”

“I understand. But what is our narrative?” I asked.

President Tapiwa smiled. “Excellent question. Officially we welcome the Selkie with open arms. Like Ms. Ahuja said these are our cousins and we are thrilled to meet them and continue our journey of life with them.”

“Unofficially?” I asked weary.

“Unofficially, we are extremely suspicious of not only these creatures but on Ms. Katherine Ahuja herself. She obviously has had knowledge of these creatures for years now but neglected to let the public or even her government know of their existence. There has to be a reason for that and we will endeavour to find this reason out,” President Tapiwa’s face took on a scary edge.

“So… I should avoid them and her?” I asked, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

“No, actually I want you to do the exact opposite. I want you to meet her and these creatures. I want you to get as close to them as you can. And I want you to report back to solely me,” President Tapiwa pulled some papers out of her folder. “The hacking done on SOUS was done by me and Chancellor Nakano. We were suspicious and uneasy with the way SOUS was able to keep such a low profile. They were a completely dark area in the matter of intelligence and we needed to know what exactly they were doing there. Suddenly we got a backdoor entrance so to speak from someone on the inside.”

She showed me a picture of a pale beautiful human woman with lovely brown hair.

“This is Veronica De Sauveterre. She was a scientist who worked at SOUS a few years ago and was quite accomplished. She was tried and convicted under mysterious circumstances and is being jailed within SOUS. We do not know what her condition or treatment is like nor why she has been imprisoned. But she is the one who managed to make contact with us from within SOUS.”

“Katherine is holding her prisoner?” I looked up at President Tapiwa.

“We can’t make any assumptions. Katherine Ahuja is a co-CEO of SOUS but it’s clear she is simply the face of SOUS, whereas Jeffrey Harley seems to be the true mastermind of the company,” President Tapiwa pulled out a photo with Katherine and a man standing side by side smiling into the camera.

“Iqi, I want you to uncover what’s going on in SOUS. I want you to spy for the Human Intergalactic Council.”

A sharp knock rapped on the door before I could respond.

“Come in,” President Tapiwa said irritated, it was one of her detail.

He came in holding a phone. “Ms. Ahuja has made contact to Iqi.”

President Tapiwa nodded. “Put it on speaker.”

He set the phone down in the middle of the table, pressed a button and left.

“Hello?” I heard Katherine’s voice on the other line.

“Oh, hello!” I said gathering my thoughts.

“Iqi, how are you? I wasn’t sure if they’d let me speak with you,” she laughed.

“I’m very well. Thank you for calling,” I said constantly monitoring President Tapiwa’s face for disapproval.

“You probably already know what this is about. I was wondering if one day you wanted to meet Ler and Kym. We’ll provide security and a place for you to stay if you want to spend a few days here,” she sounded nervous.

“I’d love to but,” I looked up at President Tapiwa’s face she was watching me closely. “Haven’t you been having hacking issues?”

Katherine laughed. “Yes we have. But you don’t need to fear these hackers, they are after all from the HIC. Oh, but they probably didn’t tell you any of that. My bad.”

President Tapiwa’s face took on a dark look.

“Oh,” I said not really sure of what else to say.

I heard Katherine sigh. “She’s in the room with you isn’t she. President Tapiwa, I understand you won’t respond so you can have plausible deniability but I can assure you Iqi will be well taken care of during his visit to my facility, if he so chooses to go. I’ll allow him to bring his detail, his sister and of course Dr. Willoughby, but some parts of my facility will be off-limits to them. He’ll be perfectly safe, I’ve been dealing with the supposedly supernatural much longer than anyone on your team I can assure you.”

No one said anything for a long beat.

“So, Iqi what will it be? Will you come visit me?” Katherine asked.

I looked up at President Tapiwa. Her face seemed to ask a question too.

Will you spy for me?

“Yes,” I answered, looking into President Tapiwa’s eyes. “I will.”

#iqi #Iqi:Arrival #Iqi: Arrival #Alien #Aliens #hybrid #space australia #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #earth is space australia #spacetravel #HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #spy #spies #Katherine Ahuja #selkie

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readingfordummies · 7 years

Text

Witches of East End - Chapter Ten

Witch Business

Just as Ingrid had predicted, Tabitha was soon pregnant. It took only a week for the news to spread around town, and only a few days before certain women decided that they, too, wanted to see if their local librarian could help them with their problems. On a bright Monday morning in June, the glowing mother-to-be entertained yet another group of women gathered around the main counter with her story. It was one they had heard already, but it didn't keep Tabitha from telling it, and her audience was happy enough to hear it once more while awaiting their turn to see Ingrid.

"The doctors said it was a medical miracle! Because our tests came back, you know, and they were bad. They said it was virtually impossible for me to get pregnant, but it happened! All thanks to Ingrid! Did you hear what she did for Stephanie Curran? Cured her of that rash that never went away! I swear, the woman is a miracle worker! Well, not a miracle worker but some kind of witch, maybe!"

"Witch!" Mona Boyard repeated, a bit shocked.

"Witch, please," Hudson interrupted, with a hand on his hip. "This is North Hampton. We prefer 'special caregiver.' You know, like a reader or a psychic," he said brightly.

No one knew exactly how Ingrid helped people, only that it worked without any obvious medical or scientific explanation. So it had to be some kind of . . . magic? But who believed in magic in this day and age? The women of North Hampton didn't care what it was called, only that they wanted it for themselves if it worked.

At first Ingrid had not wanted to take the credit for Tabitha's pregnancy, or to pass around any more help or advice, but she soon found it difficult to refuse. Since no lightning bolt came flying out of the sky after she'd given Tabitha the fertility charm, it seemed only fair to help everyone who asked. Maybe Freya was right, maybe it had been so long that the Council had forgotten about them, maybe nothing would come of it this time. Ingrid was willing to take that chance. She couldn't deny it either: practicing magic again was not only enjoyable but gave her a sense of purpose. There was meaning in her life again. She had wasted so much time and effort in denying her natural talents, burying herself in endless small tasks and taking a job at a library: one she enjoyed, of course - but still. This was what she was put on earth to do. To hell with that restriction, surely after so many years they had earned a pass? Maybe the Council wouldn't even notice. Besides, the citizens of North Hampton were open-minded, neither fearful nor superstitious. They were curious and doubtful, but willing to try something new.

She was surprised to find an unusual run of bad luck in each person’s tale. Some problems, while minor, had been impossible to fix in the ordinary sense: strange aches and pains that no amount of medicine could cure; temporary blindness, bizarre headaches, frequent nightmares. There were several women, much younger than Tabitha, who had also been having trouble conceiving, their spirits blocked by the same silvery mass she had first seen in her coworker. Ingrid worked hard, creating pentagrams, lighting candles, giving out a few little knots, a charm or a spell or two. She accepted clients, as Hudson called them, only during her lunch hour. After all, she had an exhibit to plan and documents to steam. As recompense, Ingrid asked that they donate what they could afford to the library fund, raising money by charging people for something they wanted and that she could give them. Maybe she could close the gap in that budget, and their ambitious mayor would drop the idea of selling off the library.

Her last visitor was Emily Foster, an attractive woman in her late thirties. Emily was a well-known artist around town, known for her giant abstract murals of seascapes and horses. She lived with her husband, Lionel Horning, who was also an artist, on a farm at the city's edge, where they raised animals. They kept the Beauchamps stocked with fresh eggs and milk and never asked for payment since Joanna regularly dropped off vegetables from her garden. "How can I help you?" Ingrid asked.

"It's such an odd thing," Emily said, blowing her nose. "But I need something to . . . I don't know . . . it's so stupid. . . ."

"There are no judgments here, Em," Ingrid promised.

"I just . . . I can't seem to focus lately. I've never had this problem before . . . being blocked, you know? But it's like I can't even paint or anything. . . . It's so strange. I mean, of course once in a while you get stuck . . . but it's been two weeks now and I can't seem to concentrate on it. It's like my mind is just . . . blank . . . like I can't see anything, no shapes or anything . . . just grayness." She barked a laugh. "Can you cure artist's block?"

"I can try," Ingrid said.

"Thank you." Emily's eyes watered. "I've got an exhibit in a few months. I'd really appreciate it."

She placed Emily in a pentagram, lit the candle, and assessed her spirit. Yes, there it was, that same silvery mass, right in the middle of her torso, and by now Ingrid was quite expert at yanking it out. Ingrid realized it did not just block the creation of life, but it blocked the process of creation itself. Ingrid thought she might have to mention it to Joanna at some point. There were just too many instances lately to be random. There was something odd going on here.

Later that afternoon, Ingrid resumed her real work and began the task of preparing the Gardiner blueprints for the show. She stood at the conference table and slowly unrolled the heavy set of drawings. The sheets were large, almost as big as the table, and the paper was yellowed and fragile. Ingrid expertly thumbed through the pages until she found the site plan. She always started there. A set of design plans was like a novel in a way, a text prepared for the builder, a story written by the architect on how the house should be built. The site plan was like an introduction to the novel.

The site plan showed wavy concentric lines circling a single point at the center, a blocky shape drawn in dark pencil, which represented Fair Haven. She leaned in closely to examine the heavy pencil lines. Each set of drawings contained its own language of keys: symbols and marks that led to specific drawings for each part of the house. A design set blossomed from the outside in, from the site plan to the main floor plan to specific elevations and details.

As she moved through the drawing set, an image of the house began to form in her mind. She glanced from the key on the main floor plan to an elevation of the main ballroom, and turned back to make sure she had read it correctly. That was odd. The elevation key was different from the one that resided on the site plan. Most architecture keys were made up of numbers and letters such as "A 2.1 /1" inside a small circle, but this number tag was thoroughly decorated with twisting patterns.

Ingrid pulled a chair out so she could sit down and look more closely. There was something fascinating about the dense pattern of shapes. The swirling lines appeared floral in nature, suggestive of the arabesques of art nouveau, and as she continued to stare at them, the shapes began to resemble letters; but if they were letters they were from a language she could not understand, had never seen before. They weren't Egyptian hieroglyphs or any dead language that she had a passing familiarity with in all her time on earth.

She went through more of the drawings and found several similarly decorated tags, not just room tags and wall tags, but tags for fixtures and finishes, each adorned with the elaborate script, and each one unlike the other. She had never seen anything like it in any drawing set before. Ingrid was familiar with the standard architectural keys, and was certain that whatever was written around the keys was not meant for any builder or contractor. Drawing keys were meant to carry the reader from one drawing to another, but these keys had some other meaning hidden within them, one that had nothing to do with the architecture or construction of the house.

Ingrid pulled her phone from her pocket, zoomed in on one of the strange tags, and snapped a picture. She dropped it into an e-mail. While she couldn't read the language, she knew someone who might, thinking of the letters she always kept in her pocket.

#woee #witches of east end #books

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blschaos3000-blog · 4 years

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Its 6:26 pm warm/muggy/writing

Welcome to 8 Questions with……

I met our next guest,Allyn Morrison,about six weeks ago when I asked her if she would like to do a interview with me. She very graciously said “I would like that” and of course I sent her my questions. Now normally I have a 21 day turnaround period so I can these interviews coming but as we were entering May,I just lost track of what I was doing,meaning I was (and am) struggling to keep writing. May is not a fun month for me. So I reached out to Allyn to see about her interview and she wrote back saying how sorry she was,she wrote her mother had a dance with something I know all too well. I admit,reading Allyn’s response choked me up,imagine having to tell a stranger whom you just barely met that you are facing a potential life altering event. I know sometimes that “fearless” is a somewhat overused word but it Allyn,whether traveling to Belize to help children learn,deciding not to play it safe career wise and chase her dreams or even writing films reviews like the cheetah and I do (trust me,you need DO need to be brave to do that),I don’t think there is a mountain that Allyn wouldn’t be afraid to climb. After seeing this,how can you not like this hard working actress whose love of family is so strong,am I right? While this pandemic has stopped everything in its tracks,it hasn’t stopped us from introducing some amazing artists like Allyn who just want to create and entertain us. I really hope you enjoy getting to know a all around outstanding actress (and an amazing daughter) Allyn Morrison as she answers her 8 Questions……

Please introduce yourself and tell us what your current project is at the moment.

Hi there! My name is Allyn Morrison, and I am an actress based out of the Dallas- Fort worth area of Texas. I’m not working on a specific project right now what with Covid-19 happening, so I’m doing lots of research and getting ready for the future!

How are you coping with the Covid-19 pandemic? What are you doing to stay sane?

Quarantine has definitely been hard. I live by myself, so I’ve had to get creative in order to stay cheerful. I’ve been going on walks everyday, and the fresh air and sunshine definitely help keep me sane. I’m keeping in touch with my family and friends and zooming with people pretty frequently. I’ve also made myself a to-do list, and that has given me some structure.

What was growing up in your house like? What was your favorite vacation as a child?

I’m originally from Arizona, land of the heat, and that was an experience let me tell you. I’m the youngest of three kids and was actually pretty shy as a child. When I discovered theater during junior high, I felt really alive for the first time. My family has been really blessed in that we’ve been able to travel quite a bit. I hate having to pick a favorite trip, but if I had to choose I’d say it had to be the trip to Scotland and England my family went on when I was around 10. My family’s Scottish, so we wanted to go see where our ancestors were from haha. Scotland is absolutely beautiful, and England has so much history. I’d go back again in a heart beat if I could.

What led you to become an actress? What steps did you take in realizing your goals?

Like I said earlier, I was very shy growing up as a kid. However, I distinctly remember watching movies at a very young age and thinking, “I could do that. I could get up in front of a camera and say lines.” Ironic, I know. I was cast in my first musical in seventh grade (I was Mrs. Paroo in The Music Man Jr.), and my parents were actually pretty concerned. They told me, “You know you have to get up in front of people and sing right? On a stage?” And I said, “Yeah I know.” They told me later that when they came to opening night they were both dumbfounded while watching me perform. “What happened to our Allyn?” They had absolutely no idea haha. I continued doing theater throughout junior high and high school and wanted to pursue it in college, but my parents and I realized that I wouldn’t make much money pursuing acting. So I decided to become a teacher instead. However, as soon as I started tutoring during college I realizing that a) I didn’t like tutoring and b) I wasn’t very good at it. Go figure. And I realized that I really loved acting. I graduated from college with an English degree and took a year off to do a leadership/discipleship program before I started working as an extra part time for two years. I’ve been pursuing acting full time now for a year and a half.

Walk us through your first audition…..how did you handle that entire experience and what did you learn from it?

My first real audition for a speaking part went really well (or at least I thought it did). I made the people in the room laugh, and one casting director gave me a redirect. Now looking back, I realize that I made a few mistakes. First of all, I shook everyone’s hand both before and after my audition! I didn’t know that you’re not supposed to do that. Oops. Also, I wrote down on a form that I wasn’t very available during the shoot dates. I now realize that that was incredibly stupid. No one wants to hire someone who isn’t available! Needless to say, I didn’t get the part.

How do you approach the roles you play? Do you do anything special or different before you hit the set?

Each role is different. In college I took classes that centered on the Stanislavski method, which includes sense memory and dealing with the given circumstances of a role. That basically means that I try to take experiences from my past and incorporate those experiences into my current role. I won’t have experience to draw from for every role (example: I’ve never murdered anybody), so I have to envision how and why my character is the way she is.

Recently you have started to move behind the camera, what led you to do this? Would you like to get into directing someday?

I actually started working as a production assistant so that I just could be on set. During my first year of pursuing acting full time I also did a program called Friends in Film. This program gives you the tools to get on set as a crew member and then work your way up into the niche that you ultimately want to get to. Learning how a crew works and how everyone’s job works together has given me a fuller understanding of what a set looks like. It’s not just about actors and people behind the camera. We each have a part to play (no pun intended), whether we’re crew or cast, and together we make something much bigger than ourselves. Plus working in production is a wonderful networking opportunity. I get to tell people that I am an actor, and hopefully they’ll remember me for future jobs. I’ve already gotten a few jobs from working as a PA! I used to want to be a director but I’ve since learned that I don’t have those particular skill sets. Big picture thinking isn’t my strong suit. However, I think I could be a pretty decent producer. Detail work and spreadsheets are my jam.

What is the acting community like in Ft. Worth? How do you learn about upcoming films being shot around you?

The acting community in Fort Worth is definitely small, but we are a very tight knit community. I attend class at a wonderful actor’s studio every week (shout out to Fort Worth Actor’s Studio!), and classes are led by working actors. Our community is very supportive, which is amazing and invaluable as we try to make it in this business. I have an agent in Dallas who submits me to projects in and around Texas, but I do a lot of research on my own. I participate in a lot of acting Facebook groups, and I keep up with new projects that way. If there’s a project that I definitely want to be considered for, I let my agent know.

Who has given you the best advice/encouragement and what did they share with you?

My acting teacher Nathan has told me and everyone in our class multiple times that the right project will come along. If I didn’t book after a particular audition, that means it wasn’t the right project. In an industry where there can be a lot of downtime between projects, it’s encouraging to be reminded that the right projects are out there; they’re just not here yet.

What three roles do you enjoy playing the most and what three roles challenge you the most?

I enjoy any type of role that makes people laugh. Whether that means being the side character whose sole purpose is comic relief or having a larger part, comedic parts are my favorite. I’ve been told that I’m particularly good at portraying people in high authority, such as a lawyer, cop, or doctor. I’m a very laid back person, so portraying someone who is more authoritative and bossy can be a bit of a challenge, but it’s a good one for sure!

What do you like to do in between projects?

I love to read. Like, I LOVE to read books. I’ve been keeping book lists since high school, so I’m definitely a nerd. Historical fiction is my favorite genre, but I try to throw in Christian theology, nonfiction, and acting books. I also love to watch movies. Every week I try to watch at least one movie that I haven’t seen and write a review on it. They can be award winning movies, cult classics, or popular films I haven’t seen yet. I call it #movieresearchnight and you can find my reviews on Instagram!

How important is it to promote yourself as an artist and how do you promote yourself?

As an actor, you are self-employed. The only way that you can grow any business is by promoting it. And when you’re an actor, you are your own business, so self promotion is extremely important. For me that includes being active on my acting social media pages, networking with other actors and casting directors, and working as a production assistant.

The cheetah and I are flying over to watch your latest film but we are a day early and now you are playing tour guide, what are we doing?

If we’re in Fort Worth, we’re going to Heim BBQ and Melt Ice Cream for some quality Texas food, next on a tour of Sundance Square in downtown Fort Worth, and then an exploration of the Stockyards. If you’re lucky, I’ll take you to my favorite spot: the local library! Just kidding. Kind of.

I like to like Allyn for taking the time to chat with us in what was a stressful time. Right before I posted this,her mother got a happy ending and thank heaven for that. I hope you enjoyed meeting Allyn and thank you for supporting her interview.

Like everyone,Allyn has various social media outlets so you can follow her next steps in her career.

You can follow Allyn on her InstaGram page You can what Allyn’s next project will be on her IMDb page. You can also visit Allyn’s personal website here.

If you are new to the blog and the “8 Questions with” interview series,you can catch up by clicking here and read over 100 interviews with folks from all over the world.

8 Questions with……….actress Allyn Morrison Its 6:26 pm warm/muggy/writing Welcome to 8 Questions with...... I met our next guest,Allyn Morrison,about six weeks ago when I asked her if she would like to do a interview with me.

#8 Questions With #acting #actor&039;s life #Allyn Morrison #auditioning #books #comedy #education #Ft Worth Texas #interview #Producer #reading #self-promotion

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martens-movie-reviews · 6 years

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Release Date: June 14, 2013 Running Time: 2 hours 23 minutes

“With the imminent destruction of Krypton, their home planet, Jor-El and his wife seek to preserve their race by sending their infant son to Earth. The child’s spacecraft lands at the farm of Jonathan and Martha Kent, who name him Clark and raise him as their own son. Though his extraordinary abilities have led to the adult Clark living on the fringe of society, he finds he must become a hero to save those he loves from a dire threat.”

Because of the anticipated release of Justice League on Friday November 17, I’ve decided to write reviews of all of the movies that make up the DC Extended Universe so far. There have been a lot of talks about how long this franchise will last, but as a comic book fan, and huge lover of movies, I never want movies to be bad. I’m hoping that it’ll be amazing. You can find the dates for when the reviews for the other DCEU movie will be released at the link here. I wrote the review for Wonder Woman around the time it came out, and it can be found here.

DC Extended Universe – Source: Warner Brothers Entertainment

Man of Steel Trailer: Source – Warner Brothers Entertainment

Cast & Crew

The director of Man of Steel was Zack Snyder, whose work includes films that I enjoyed such as ‘Watchmen’ in 2009 and ‘Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole’ in 2010, as well as films that I didn’t enjoy so much such as ‘Dawn of the Dead’ in 2004, and ‘Sucker Punch’ in 2011. The film that in my mind, he’s the most known for is ‘300’, which while visually amazing, was more of a meh kind of film for me. He has since directed the sequel to this film ‘Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice’, and most of ‘Justice League’ before having to step away due to personal reasons.

Man of Steel was written by David S. Goyer, based on the story that he and Christopher Nolan wrote. Nolan’s work as a writer includes ‘Memento’, his ‘Batman’ trilogy, and ‘Inception’ prior to working on this film. He has since wrote ‘Interstellar’ in 2014, and ‘Dunkirk’ in 2017. Goyer’s previous writing jobs includes the ‘Blade’ trilogy from 1998 – 2004, working with Nolan on the ‘Batman’ films previously mentioned as well as the sequel ‘Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance’ in 2011 prior to working on Man of Steel. He’s since wrote the ‘Constantine’ television show, as well as ‘Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice’ in 2016. He was recently announced to be one of the writers for the ‘Green Lantern Corps’ that will be coming out in 2020.

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Cast includes Henry Cavill, Amy Adams, Michael Shannon, Diane Lane, Kevin Costner, Ayelet Zurer, Russell Crowe, Antje Traue, Richard Cetrone, Mackenzie Gray, Laurence Fishburne, Christopher Meloni, Richard Schiff, Cooper Timberline and Dylan Sprayberry.

Review

The character of Clark Kent / Kal – El was played by Cooper Timberline, Dylan Sprayberry and Henry Cavill, with the latter also playing Superman. I feel like all three of them did a good job at playing the Clark Kent character, and I was surprised at how consistent they were in terms of character. Cavill’s acting in the role of Kal – El was rough at first, with some very wooden delivery of some lines, however that could also be the script or the direction that he got. I enjoyed the portrayal that we got, even if it was a ‘darker’ and ‘broodier’ version of what he is supposed to be, I still thought it was well done at the end. Cavill’s Superman still needs some work, but seems to have a lot of potential, and I was pleased with the improvements in the character in the follow up film.

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The character of Lois Lane was played by Amy Adams, in which she did an alright job with what she was given. I didn’t enjoy what they did with her character overall, but I will go into more detail about that further below. I feel like Adams was a good choice for the role that they put her in, but didn’t give off the Lois Lane vibe that I remembered from the few comic books that I read of Superman(read both Marvel and DC as a kid, but enjoyed Marvel more).

Michael Shannon as General Zod was a good choice in my mind for the role, as he demands the attention when on screen, and you need someone with a presence to portray Zod. I feel like the character could have been used a lot better, but from I enjoyed the performance that we got from Shannon. It demanded more than what we ended up getting.

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The Kent parents were played by Diane Lane and Kevin Costner, who I feel was really well cast in those roles. I would have prefered a lot more from Costner’s character, and the way he died was just stupid, but from the acting standpoint, I really enjoyed that Lane was able to capture Martha Kent’s essence of trying to connect with Clark on the emotional level, while Jonathan Kent was the moral compass of doing what’s right at the right time. I didn’t enjoy the fact that they made him say the word ‘maybe’ when asked if Clark should have let his classmates die.

The Kryptonian parents Lara Lor-Van played by Ayelet Zurer, and Jor – El who was portrayed by Russell Crowe was a mixed bag of emotions for me throughout this film. I loved everything about Zurer’s performance from the flashbacks to Krypton, and the struggle to send her child away for a chance for survival. It’s something that I wish would be explored more in the future, with the A.I. Jor – El talking about his wife to their son. Russell Crowe’s performance was a problem for me in this role. I don’t think he fit the role of Jor – El, whatsoever, and I didn’t like that they made him capable of beating General Zod in a fist fight. That was one of the problems with certain characters in the film.

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One thing that was really unexpected in the movie, was that it opens with the birth of Kal – El, literally Lara in labour, the first time that a natural birth happened on Krypton for centuries. I enjoyed what they did with the movie, in a way to make Kal – El ‘special’ in that sense, however I really wish that they will elaborate on the Codex. That is something that would be very interesting if ever they were going to have a new Krypton eventually in the universe, however I feel like they’ve already forgotten about it.

Seeing Krypton was absolutely amazing. I thought that the scenery and the animals in that sequence was very much inspired by James Cameron’s movie ‘Avatar’. The cinematography in general for this movie was beautiful. I thought that the way that they captured Krypton, Smallville, and the Arctic was extremely well done. It’s one of the better looking films in the past 5 years, and part of that quality is thanks to the cinematographer of the film – Amir Mokri. His work includes ‘Coyote Ugly’ from 2000, ‘Bad Boys 2’ in 2003 and ‘Transformers: Dark of the Moon’ in 2011 prior to Man of Steel.

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The score for this film was put together by one of the most well known and fantastic composer since the early 2000s. Hans Zimmer‘s work has sadly been given a lot of slack in recent years for the loud ‘BWAM’ that marketing people love putting in trailers, which have become annoying, I have to admit. In my opinion, his work is on the same level in terms of quality and how memorable they are as other great movie score composers such as John Williams, Howard Shore and Danny Elfman. Zimmer’s work in this film was strong, hopeful, and sometimes inspiring while still having those epic moments that is required in big budget films.

Movie scores are what I listen to while I’m working at my desk, or writing these reviews, or when I was studying while in school. I just looked at my ‘instrumental’ playlist that I’ve had and been adding to it for the last 10 years and Hans Zimmer has 61 out of the 250 songs on that playlist. His work includes such soundtracks as ‘The Lion King’, ‘The Prince of Egypt’, ‘Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl’, ‘The Last Samurai’, ‘August Rush’, ‘Sherlock Holmes’, and ‘Inception’. I really enjoyed the music in this movie, and I know that a lot of people were disappointed when the Superman theme was never incorporated into the score, however I feel like Zimmer added a sense of wonder and grandness that was needed for this version.

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The flashbacks in Man of Steel was very much hit and miss for me. I feel like the two younger version of Clark Kent did a good job in their portrayals, and I was happy to see that they were providing some backstory to who he is, while at the same time not lingering too much on it.

One of the stupidest death scenes that I’ve ever watched was the flashback scene of Jonathan Kent being swallowed up by the tornado (twister, not entirely sure of the difference, if you know, tell me in the comments below) while telling Clark to stay where he was, and stupidly sacrificing himself. I feel like Clark could have easily saved him, but they wanted to make the film ‘darker’ and make Clark go on this long and arduous journey to find out what his place on Earth is, and to find out what kind of man he wants to become, but I was pissed off at that death scene.

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One of the bigger mistakes in this film was that Lois Lane was made to be an integral piece of the film. She was involved in everything, and while I know that she’s a reporter and loves getting information, the fact that she took a picture of cliff face, and saw a man enough to know to zoom in, then can somehow scale a mountain, and thinks she can escape the authorities after being called is funny. I feel like they should have kept her as a supporting character rather than one of the leads in the movie. I’m not happy that they made her find out that Superman is Clark Kent right away, as there’s a lot less in which they can explore and do in further films.

A small problem with the movie, is the magical appearance of the suit, with the crest of the house of El on it, that just happened to be on a spaceship that crashed on Earth 18 000 years ago, while also having one of the passengers on that ship survive and get out of their sleeping pod. Where are they? I don’t think we’ll ever find out.

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One of the most amazing things in the whole movie was that they were so casual with the destruction of Metropolis, and causing so much damage to the city, and they cry out that Superman is a hero. Yes, it wasn’t entirely his fault, but from the look of it, he did very little to save anyone, going as far as throwing Zod towards buildings full of people.

I enjoyed the nice touches of the greater plans that they might or might not have been planning towards the DCEU. Including the Wayne satellites, and the LuthorCorp trucks.\

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The most controversial part of the movie – the death of General Zod, is one of the most hated things about this movie, and I’m still upset about this to this day. Superman does not kill, yes, he’s killed Zod once in the comics, but that was one story that they had out of thousands of different stories. I feel like the circumstances of the death was stupid as well, I would have much prefered if Zod had gone into the Phantom Zone with everyone else when the ship collided with the World Engine. It would have been a much satisfying ending, rather than the whole air punching fight scene that caused so much damage to the city and to the Superman character as a whole.

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Overall, I feel like this was a solid film that had amazing music and cinematography, a little shaky on the characters and the acting, with an ending that is extremely divisive amongst the fans. I love Cavill’s performance as Superman, but there’s still a lot of room to grow. At the end of the day, I don’t have much more to say about this film, and I would end up giving this movie a final score of 7.5/10.

What did you think of Man of Steel? Are you excited for Justice League? Let me know in the comment section below!

Thanks for reading,

Alex Martens

Man of Steel Review Release Date: June 14, 2013 Running Time: 2 hours 23 minutes "With the imminent destruction of Krypton, their home planet, Jor-El and his wife seek to preserve their race by sending their infant son to Earth.

#Comic Book Movie #DCEU #Movie Review

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