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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years

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Routines

Tim and Marinette lived busy lives.

It was by choice, of course.

They were both prominent figures in their fields that could pick and choose the assignments they wished to take, had more money than they could ever dream of using thanks to the hefty trust fund that being even tangentially related to Bruce Wayne provided, and no one would blame them if they were to lessen or give up their vigilantism. If they wished, there was nothing stopping them from taking a smaller workload, from using up all of their sick days, from taking vacations, from quitting their jobs entirely...

That being said, they likely never would.

And the tabloids loved to speculate on their relationship because of it. How could they spend much time together if Tim was always at work, developing new technology for Wayne Enterprises? Marinette was cheating, how could she not when so much of her job as a designer involved getting up close and personal with models? Not to mention all of the business trips. Surely, the relationship had some kind of monetary motivation, or maybe it was just to more seamlessly merge their companies, or it had only happened for PR reasons.

They let them speculate. They simply didn’t know better.

The tabloids didn’t get to see how they acted behind closed doors, after all.

There would be days where neither of them went in to work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.

They took breaks. Technically. If you squint.

There would be days where neither of them went into work. It wasn’t due to some sort of sickness that Tim had caught thanks to his lack of spleen, nor would it be because Marinette had hit some kind of artist’s block. No, it was simply because they wanted to spend time together.

They would turn on the coffee machine and then make their way over to the sofa. Marinette would nestle herself into his side and smile as he wrapped his arm around her. He would pull her as close as he possibly could so he could still use both arms to type.

He usually took video calls like this. It was always so much easier to maintain a pleasant smile, even when people often looked down on him for his age, because whenever he felt it start to waver he could simply look down at his girlfriend and suddenly he would find that it would be back in full force.

She would prop her sketchbook on her legs and start on some new designs. The designs she did like this were always, inexplicably, more lively than the other ones -- full of vibrant colors and swooping curves in a way that some of her other works lacked. If asked, Marinette would joke that the secret ingredient was love.

And, sure, this wasn’t technically taking a break from work. They were still productive, still did tasks...

But they counted it. They always came back to work the next day with the same euphoric feelings in their chests, the same springs in their steps. How could they not? They’d spent the entire day doing what they loved with the person that they loved. Who could ever want a break from that?

Every time one of them came back from a business trip, they made sure to spend the night together.

Tim would lay back in bed, Marinette on top of him. Her head would come to rest on his chest, clutching the back of his shirt tightly. His fingers would find their way to her hair and she would huff a little, knowing that her hair was about to get hopelessly tangled as he fidgeted with the silky strands, but she would nuzzle into his chest all the same.

They would watch a TV show. It didn’t matter whether it was good or bad. As long as there were people and some semblance of a plot, they would gladly stay wrapped up in each other’s arms to watch it.

Tim would rattle off whatever theories he had developed as they came to mind. Some of them were absolutely insane, he knew, and would never happen… but it was worth making a fool of himself if it got Marinette’s face to light up or if he earned one of those little giggles that escaped her when he was instantly proven wrong.

Marinette would, at least, pause the show whenever she wanted to talk, though it wasn’t out of an understanding of how time works. No, it was so she could sit up a little in his lap and point at whichever character had offended her this time. She would go on long rants about how makeup was just as important as outfits in costuming, but it was often overlooked in favor of making the actors look pretty. And, maybe she had already said all of this before, but it’s important, Tim! And he would just nod his agreement. Because it was important -- a TV night certainly wouldn’t feel like a TV night without at least one rant.

And then the screen would go black, the most recent episode done.

Tim would draw back a little and then pretend to be shocked when his hands were stuck in her hair.

“Oh noooooo,” he’d say. “I guess I can’t let go yet.”

“How unfortunate,” she would deadpan.

He’d smile cheekily at her.

“Shut up.”

“But I didn’t even say anything!” He’d argue with overexaggerated offense.

She would smile, shaking her head as much as she could with the fingers in her hair. “You didn’t have to. You have a presence about you.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” he’d say.

And, sometimes, she’d bring her hands up to cup his face. “Not sure if it was a compliment, but I definitely wouldn’t have it any other way,” she’d whisper before pulling him closer for a kiss.

… but, most of the time she would just laugh and say: “It wasn’t one.”

Once a month, Marinette tried to teach Tim to cook. Of course, they both knew it was a hopeless endeavor. He’d failed to make mac n’ cheese once, and Marinette -- who had lived the first eighteen years of her life in a Parisian bakery -- wasn’t good at discerning which meals were ‘easy to do’.

But that didn’t stop her from trying.

She would come up with a new recipe, would claim that this one was truly dummy proof…

And then Tim, dummy that he was, would manage to mess it up. Without fail, he would find some way to do something wrong. He would leave the milk on the stove and then be surprised when said milk on the stove decided to revolt against the system. He would raise the temperature on the thing they were baking so it would go faster and then be shocked when the cake didn’t rise at all. He would put too much in the mixer and then not understand why the contents had exploded over the two of them.

Worst thing was, she was pretty sure he was actually trying. He just… couldn’t seem to do it.

So, she would just kiss the disappointed frown off of his face and promise that they would do better next time.

And, every time without fail, he would light up.

“There will be a next time?” He would ask.

“Yeah. You’re lucky you’re cute, I can’t say I love being covered in ingredients.”

Tim would kiss her cheek, and then draw back and lick his lips. “I don’t know, I kind of like it. Something about my girlfriend being covered in tasty food really does something for me.”

“Like I said: you’re lucky you’re cute.”

And, even though she would say that, there was no mistaking the amusement dancing in her eyes.

They weren’t particularly religious, it was hard to be when Marinette had a god living in her earrings that obeyed her every command…

Which meant celebrations for the two of them were few and far between.

But, at least, they celebrated their anniversary.

They would sit on the rooftop, the blankets doing nothing to keep the hard tiles of the roof from digging into them and they did even less against the chilly Gotham air.

She’d stare up at the sky with him.

And, since it was Gotham, there were very few stars to be seen through the dark red and black haze of clouds that hung over the city.

But they didn’t mind.

Marinette smiled. “It’s our colors.”

He didn’t look over, watching the colors swirl above them. “Even the sky thinks we’re a good couple.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. The sky god really does have a thing for love.”

He gave a short puff of laughter and finally tore his eyes away from the sky. “Really?”

She shrugged, grinning at him. “No clue. There might not even be a sky god.”

He scoffed and untangled his hand from its blanket prison to give her a tiny shove. She could have dodged the attempt with ease, but she allowed the hand to make contact.

To her surprise, he grabbed ahold of her shoulder and pulled her into him. She gave an undignified little squeak and, if it weren’t for the fact that he was right there, she would have probably faceplanted onto the tile.

But, instead, her face came crashing into his soft, pillowy shoulder.

She looked up at the crooked grin that she had come to love over the years and huffed, pulling her own arms free so she could shove him. For real.

He flopped back, the hand he’d managed to get out coming to rest over his chest as if he were hurt.

“How could you? Roofs hurt, you know.”

“Well, yeah, if you throw yourself down on tiles it’s not going to feel too great.”

He cracked a grin, though he quickly tamped it down to keep up the act: “Victim blaming at its finest.”

She rolled her eyes and leaned over him. One of her hands cradled his cheek, her thumb tracing the tiny scar on his cheekbone.

He looked up at her. And she thought, somewhere, that maybe the reason the pollution in the city was just some kind of coverup so no one would know that they all resided in Tim’s eyes.

And then she cursed herself mentally for thinking something so cheesy.

She had to make up for it somehow:

“You’re the worst, I hope you know that.”

“I am. But you love me anyway.”

Dang it. How was she supposed to feign being annoyed when he looked at her like that? With that soft smile and thick lashes and hair that framed his face just so.

She decided it wasn’t worth trying to pretend.

Marinette let herself match his smile.

“I do.”

“Save those words for our wedding,” he joked softly.

She rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even proposed yet.”

“I could be doing that right now. Who knows, this could all be my plan.”

“It’d be a good plan,” she said. “I’d probably say yes.”

He narrowed his eyes just slightly. “Isn’t that essentially you proposing to me?”

She tipped her head to the side, considering, then she laughed a little. “I guess it kind of is. So, Tim, will you marry me?”

His eyes widened to an almost comical degree.

And then his face lit up with a smile that made her heart flutter.

“I hope you know I want a ring.”

She giggled. “Just say yes, you idiot. We can always get the ring tomorrow.”

His smile only stretched further. “Yes. I’d love to marry you.”

“I love you,” she whispered, leaning closer until her lips brushed against his.

“I love you, too,” he breathed.

Marinette didn’t hesitate any longer, tilting her head to give him a proper kiss. He freed himself of the blanket and she gasped a little against his lips as he wrapped her up in it as well, drawing her close.

She pulled away just a little, her forehead coming to rest against his. She couldn’t seem to get the dopey smile off of her face, but she wasn't completely sure she even wanted it gone.

“I proposed first, so I won,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

He smiled. “No, I did.”

#i did the impossible and got 100 subs on ao3 #so i figured id attempt the impossible again #its all fluff #not a single swear #AND its a oneshot #i did it i did the impossible we can all go home now #(please dont leave lol)#maribat #routines #shutterbug #timari #timmari #timinette #red robin #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug

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intheticklecloset · 3 years

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The Great Academia Road Trip, Part 3 (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

Summary: During a particularly long bus ride to the next stop on their road trip, some of the students in Class 1-A take the time to catch up on some sleep. However when they near their destination they'll need to wake up somehow, and lucky for them, Todoroki can get pretty loud when he's being tickled!

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this one! Lee Todoroki has my entire heart. He makes a great alarm clock, too! Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 1,384

Part 1

~~~

“S-Stop it!”

“What’s wrong? Can’t get away?”

“Kaminari!” There was a low chuckle, followed by the sounds of a scuffle. “S-Stohop, please!”

Mina pulled out one of her earbuds to listen more closely, intrigued by whatever was happening on the bus seat in front of hers. Momo sat beside her, having fallen asleep nearly an hour ago. The harder she listened, the more she matched the pleading voice to Todoroki.

“Plehehease, no! People are t-tryihihing to sleep!”

“Eh, sleep is boring,” Kaminari replied, a smile in his voice. “This is way more fun.”

Mina grinned, already guessing what was happening in front of her. Still, she carefully got to her feet so as not to disturb Momo, leaning over the seat in front of hers to witness the scuffle with her eyes as well.

Todoroki was pressed up against his window seat, desperately squirming and pushing at Kaminari’s hands. Meanwhile the blonde had a huge grin on his face, reaching through his friend’s defenses to poke and prod wherever he could, and poor Todoroki was helpless against his giggles and the sparkle in his eyes that told her he was honestly having as much fun as Kami was.

“Aww,” she cooed, drawing both of their attention. “You two are so cute.”

“Hey, Mina,” Kaminari said casually, switching tactics and squeezing the icy-hot hero’s thigh instead. Todoroki jolted and kicked the seat in front of him, grabbing the blonde’s wrist and shoving it away.

“Hey, Denki.” Mina put her chin in her hand and watched the two of them with a smile. “Having fun, Todo?”

“Shut up,” he mumbled, then received a jab to his ribs. “Stohohop it!”

“If you really wanted me to stop, you’d have said your safe word by now.” Kaminari winked, reaching up into his underarm to scribble at the hollow.

Todoroki jolted again, hitting his head against the window with a low groan. “Ow! Kaminari, please, I’m going to wake someone up or hurt myself or something!”

“If you’d hold still and take it, it wouldn’t be a problem~”

“Again – I’ll wake someone up.” Todoroki finally managed to grab both of his wrists to stop him, face turning slightly more serious. “You know how ticklish I am. Half our class is trying to sleep; I don’t want to wake them up and have them mad at me.”

Kaminari pouted. “Oh, fine, if you’re really worried about it I’ll stop.”

Todoroki looked both relieved and disappointed as he let his friend go. “Thank you.”

Mina frowned, noticing the shift in mood and wishing she could do something about it. After a moment, a thought hit her, and she lit up even as she sat back down, put her earbuds back in, and pulled out her phone to text Kaminari her plan.

Two hours later, when the bus was finally nearing their destination, Mina stored her earbuds away and looked around the bus. Most of those who had fallen asleep on the trip were awake now, but there were still a few sleepy faces. Time to put her plan into action.

Momo looked at her curiously as she stood up, tapping Kami on the shoulder to let him know she was ready. He flashed her a smirk and a thumbs-up. Moving quickly, he reached over to Todoroki faster than their friend could react, grabbing his arms and shoving them above his head. Mina immediately grabbed his wrists and held him firmly in place while the blonde plunged his fingers into his exposed ribs.

“GAH!! Whahahahahahat?! Nahahahahahaha!” Todoroki shrieked on instinct, then desperately tried to muffle his laughter as he wiggled and squirmed against both of them. “Stohohohohop! I already tohohohohold you, I’ll wahahahake someone up!”

“Good news!” Mina announced brightly. “We’re almost there! Which means everyone should be waking up anyway!”

“You’ll make a great alarm clock,” Kaminari teased with a wicked grin, pulling back for just a moment to wiggle his fingers in Todoroki’s line of vision, sparks flying between his fingertips.

Todoroki’s eyes went wide, but the excitement on his face was clear even as he shied away from Kami’s reach. “N-No, wait – WAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

At this point several of their classmates had turned to look at them, all of them smiling or smirking. A couple of sleepyheads jolted awake, looking around in confusion.

Kami scribbled his tickle-shocking fingers all over Todoroki’s vulnerable torso, from his hips to his ribs and finally his underarms. Upon reaching this last spot, the half-and-half boy tossed his head back and screeched, legs kicking out automatically, drawing the attention of the people sitting in front of him.

“Mon Dieu, Todoroki, you really are super ticklish,” Aoyama said, popping his sparkling blonde head over the top of his own seat to watch the spectacle unfold. He smiled.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Todoroki arched his back, then instantly fell back against his seat when the action only afforded Kami better access to his weak spot. “IT’S SO BAHAHAHAHAHAD – PLEHEHEHEHEHASE!!”

“Aww, does it tickle, Todo?” Mina teased, gripping his wrists tighter to keep him from pulling his arms down. “But you’re waking everyone up, so you’re serving your purpose beautifully!”

Todoroki didn’t reply. For the first time he seemed to surrender himself to his hysterics, going limp and letting Kaminari use his tickle-shocks to light up his nervous system and make him laugh uncontrollably, only squirming slightly.

“It’s too bad we can’t reach his feet like this,” Mina mused.

“Oh?” Kami inquired at the same time Todoroki suddenly began fighting again with a renewed shriek. “Why?”

“That’s his worst spot.”

“NO!! NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Todoroki pleaded even as Kami grinned deviously at him and awkwardly climbed into his lap to pin his knees to the seat while he reached down to take one of his shoes off. Thanks to the confined space, the peppermint-colored boy could do nothing but sit there as Kami began scribbling his fingers over his socked sole. “CRAP, NO – WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAIT!!”

Mina laughed along with him when he threw his head back against the seat and let out a scream of ticklish laughter, wiggling his torso but unable to do much more to relieve his ticklish frustration. Tears sprang to his eyes as he laughed and begged desperately for mercy.

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!!”

“Ooh! Good call, Mina!” Kami laughed, too. “This spot really seems to drive him crazy!”

By now everyone on the bus was awake and watching the scene unfold with smiles and smirks on their faces. Some were even cheering Kami on.

Todoroki was barely aware of any of it. All he knew was that his worst spot was being tickled, and he could do absolutely nothing about it, and it was driving him completely insane. Then suddenly his second shoe came off and both of his feet were being tickled at once, and the first mirthful tear escaped him as he screamed with a fresh round of hysterics.

“PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!! KAMINARIEHEHEHEHEHE!!” He begged, too weakened by his own ticklishness to even be able to pull his arms away from Mina’s hold. “PLEASE DOHOHOHOHON’T USE YOUR SHOHOHOHOCKS THERE!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Oh?~” Kaminari latched onto the plea and sank his teeth into it. “I wasn’t planning to, but now that you mention it…”

“NONONONO – AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” For the first time Todoroki’s laughter went completely silent, but the giggles of his classmates made up for the brief pocket of empty air. Everyone was having a great time watching their usually stoic classmate laugh himself silly. Finally he gasped in enough breath to scream only one word: “HOMEWOHOHOHOHOHOHORK!!”

Kaminari stopped instantly, climbing off of his lap. Mina was a bit confused at first, but quickly put together that “homework” must have been a safe word of some kind and released her friend’s arms so he could yank them back down and curl up against the window, still beaming and giggling uncontrollably. Scattered cheers and giggles circled the bus as Kami gently squeezed his shoulder.

“You okay, man?”

“F-Fihihihine…” Todoroki gasped, a little shaky as he let himself relax into the seat. “Now I’m tired, though…”

“Well, you can’t go to sleep now,” Mina teased, ruffling his hair. “We’re here!”

Sure enough, at that exact moment the bus was pulling into the parking lot of the hotel they’d be staying in for the night.

Todoroki groaned. “Dang it.”

Kaminari and Mina laughed.

~~~

Part 4

#fanfiction #tickle fic #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #shoto #todoroki #mina #ashido #denki #kaminari #road trip #alarm clock #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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hxt1b · 3 years

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Euphoric

Masterlist

Mark x Reader

Genre: Angst

Words: 1.3k

Synopsis: Happiness is an emotion that she likes to call fleeting. He’s the embodiment of happiness. What happens when he forces himself into her heart.

It was a cold day. Snowflakes were falling softly around you, dancing to the ground mockingly as they swirled around you. You watched as a couple laughed with each other sitting on a bench across from you in the park. The world was happy, but you didn’t have anything to smile about, you didn’t have anyone to smile with let alone laugh. You didn’t have anything. Happiness to you was a fleeting emotion that came slowly and left fast. You can count on your hand the time you’ve been truly happy. Three times. All three times the happiness faded to the bitter reality of the truth. You are not made for happiness.

Shaking your head lightly you peeled your eyes away from the disturbingly happy couple. You didn’t wish for them to be unhappy. You didn’t wish for anyone to be unhappy. You didn’t want anyone to feel the way you did. Going through each day feeling numb. Yet, that didn’t mean you wanted to stand and watch other people live their happy lives. That didn’t mean that when you saw them be happy you didn’t feel pain. Most would say at least you feel something. You didn’t agree. The constant pain was torture. It was better to feel nothing at all.

“You made it?” His voice was smooth, you could hear the soft cheer behind his words.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You asked, not looking up at him.

He didn’t reply, just took the seat next to you on the bench.

“I’m shocked you agreed.” You were shocked too when you said yes. He’d called you two days ago asking you to coffee, you felt selfish after you had agreed. Because to you, it’s very black and white. You knew the outcome; you knew the ending because it was the same with everything and everyone. You tried so hard to keep your hands to yourself so hard to constantly keep him at arm’s length, but all that work was gone to waste when his beautiful soft laugh came through the phone after he asked you filling the second of silence that would have been before you said no. But you said yes.

Now here you sat next to him on a bench in the park across from the two lovers laughing with each other. You finally looked over at him. It hurt, he was so blindingly full of life and happiness. He was smiling over at you, the smile twinkling in his eyes. His nose was red from the cold, he had his coat pulled up to his jaw. Your heart ached.

Quickly he stood up.

“Well let’s get that coffee.” He said and held his hand out for you to take. In your pocket your hand twitched, begging you to take his hand. You looked up at his face he was still smiling down at you. Slowly you moved your hand out of your pocket and slipped into his cold hand.

“Oh, your hand is so warm.” He laughed, “It’s nice.”

The café wasn’t far. Just a two-minute walk away from where the park was. It was warm and small. Mark led you over to a table and pulled the chair out for you. A small smile formed on your lips at his act. You took the seat. He sat down across from you and rubbed his hands together, a breathy laugh leaving him.

“So, I like the hot chocolate here.” He said making you look up at him.

You laughed a little at him, only Mark would ask you out for coffee and recommend hot chocolate.

“Hot chocolate it is then.” You replied.

You watched as he got up, looking away only while he quickly took his coat off, but it’s hard to keep your eyes off Mark. They followed him again as he made his way over to the counter to order for you both. His awkward laugh filling the small café as the cashier said something that your brain didn’t register.

You could feel the world lighten when Mark was around. With every breath, he took you could feel the room fill with this joy, with his personality. It took you over sometimes. Sometimes Mark would make you forget that those emotions were temporary.

He came back with two hot cups in his hands.

“I also got us a brownie, it looked good.” He said moving your cup towards you. “You don’t mind sharing, do you?” He was looking at you slightly concerned. Like the thought only just occurred to him that maybe you wouldn’t want to share the brownie with him.

“I don’t mind at all.” You were smiling again. It was easy to around Mark you didn’t even realize that you did it.

You listened as he spoke. He talked about his mom, and how she called him today telling him about something that he didn’t quite understand. You were just mesmerized by the way his lips moved when he spoke the way he had a knack for drawing out a topic that didn’t need to be. But you loved to listen to him talk. You loved the way he laughed every few sentences.

Two days later Mark asked you to a Winter Festival. Then to dinner. Then to a movie. And week and after week you were out with Mark. You met his bandmates and they teased him in front of you about how you were out of his league. You laughed more, you smiled more you, without allowing yourself, felt more.

The movie playing on the screen was not registering in your head. Your brain was zeroed in on the feeling of Mark’s fingers drawing circles at your wrists. Fixed on the feeling of Mark’s heartbeat as you leaned your head on his chest.

Mark's laugh shook you as something happened on screen.

“Dang babe I can’t believe that just happened in the movie.” He said through the laughter. You giggled and agreed with him even though you had no clue what even happened. Pushing off his chest you looked at his face.

“What?” He asked, “Baby why are you staring at me?” a nervous laugh leaving him.

Before you could think any more than you already were before you could let the doubt cloud your brain you pressed your lips against his in a soft kiss. Instantly he replied pulling you onto his lap. He kissed you harder and faster with each passing second, his emotions pouring out of him and into the kiss.

Mark had always been like this. Free and open. He gave his everything, and maybe just maybe this time it would last. Mark was your fourth one. The fourth form of happiness that you could count on your hand.

“What’s my name on your phone?” Mark asked later that night as you curled up against him in his bed.

“Uhh, Mark?” You replied.

“Oh…”

“Why?”

“I have you as ‘Girlfriend.’” You smiled into his chest not being able to look up at him.

“I’ll change your name.”

You rolled over in his arms and grabbed your phone from his nightstand going to his contact and changing his name. You could feel him watching you as he moved himself to wrap around your body again.

“Good?” You asked.

“Great.” He replied kissing the back of your neck.

But you weren’t wrong when you said that you weren’t made for happiness. You weren't wrong when you said that for you all good things came to end. You were wrong to forget. You were wrong to believe that this time wouldn’t be the same.

“We have to stop. We need to take a break. I can’t handle this.”

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feirceangel · 3 years

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Imagine | Lost Brother (Dwayne)

Imagine reuniting with your brother twenty years after he ran away from home

Word Count: 1077

What drew you to this strange city?

Was it the odd atmosphere? The fact that all sorts of outcasts come here to escape their past lives?

Or was it something else?

You don't really know why you came here of all places but you don't question it any further as you haul boxes into your new apartment.

Santa Carla is your home now.

That's all that matters.

Setting the box down, you look around the small space and smile. Ever since your mom passed, you didn't have a reason to smile it off moving. And now you've finally done it.

You unpack for most of the night before passing out around four or five in the morning. Good thing you don't have work or anything important to do tomorrow.

By the time you reawaken, it's afternoon. You finish unpacking and decide to go exploring your new neighbourhood.

Of course, you have to go to the boardwalk, but you decide to go there last, deeming it more appropriate to go at night to get a better grasp of the nightlife here in Santa Carla.

As you walk, your eye catches sight of a bunch of missing posters. They remind you of your brother who ran away from home when you were only five years old.

You can't blame him for running, especially after you discovered the whole truth behind his sudden departure.

It turns out, your father was abusive and one day, Dwayne finally had enough of him. So, he dealt with your father before running off to escape the police.

Your mom never really talked much about the incident and you get it. You don't like talking about it either.

Sometimes, if you try real hard, you can picture what he looked like and remember the times you spent with him.

He was a great older brother and you wish he could have stuck around.

Turning away from the posters, you make your way towards the beach to watch the sunset. Your feet dig into the soft sand as you walk in the direction of the boardwalk.

Faintly, you can hear a concert going on - some form of rock band playing to their hearts content.

The music enthralls you, drawing you towards the crowd as a smile grows on your lips. This is what you've always wanted - a carefree existence without worries or priorities.

You sway to the music for awhile before wandering away. Your feet lead you to the shops and you glance over all of the merchandise as you hum along to the tune playing in the background.

A shadow flickers in the corner of your eye, alerting you to the close proximately of two strangers. Grins adorn their gorgeous faces, their eyes alight with mischief.

Disconcerted, you walk a bit faster, irked when they keep pace with you before cutting in front of you.

You stop and cross your arms, "Can I help you?"

"Nope," the one with a mesh shirt and long blond hair says, popping the 'p'.

The one beside him smirks - truly a dazzling sight to behold - as he looks you over. His distinguishing feature is his wildly curly blond hair.

"Okay," you push between them, continuing on your path.

"Hey, wait up!"

Of course they follow you.

You keep walking even as they try to strike a conversation.

"Where you going?"

You don't answer.

You're not trying to be rude, you just don't talk much and you also believe in the saying 'stranger danger'.

"What's your name?"

Sighing, you stop in your tracks and face the persistent boys, "Look, I don't know you-"

"That's what we're trying to fix," Mesh Shirt exclaims with a grin.

Dang, he's got a point. If I never talk to strangers, then I'll never make friends.

You scowl at the thought.

They realize you've given up your escape, restarting their questions.

"So, what's your name?"

"Y/n."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Paul and that's Marko."

You nod your head.

"You new here?"

Another nod.

"You sure don't talk much do ya?"

Another scowl.

"Hey, it's alright. One of our friends doesn't talk much either."

"Why bother when all you two do is yap," you comment with a small smile.

They gasp in mock offense, turning to each other.

"Marko, can you believe how she wounds us?"

"She's not wrong though," a new voice says, revealing a platinum blond with a mullet. "You two never shut up."

He tosses a finished cig on the ground as Paul laughs and shakes his head.

"Ouch."

You cross your arms again, uncertain now that they outnumber you three to one. What have you gotten yourself into?

"David, this is Y/n," Paul introduces, seemingly picking up on your discomfort. "She's new to town."

"Hi," is his flippant response.

The fact that he's not really paying much attention to you is oddly comforting. Marko strikes another conversation, with you giving short answers to his varying questions.

With night thickening around you, you've actually started to enjoy yourself around these strange men. So much so that you've failed to realize that they've drawn you away from the crowds.

They lead you off to the beach until no one is in sight.

"Should we wait for Dwayne?" Marko asks his brothers through their mind link.

"No, he should be here any minute."

Sensing danger, you turn to face the men, now understanding your dire mistake.

As they approach, snickering at your panicked expression, someone new joins them.

Your eyes meet his and you feel like you know him from somewhere. Dark eyes, long dark hair, a jacket with a leopard on its sleeve - you wrack your brain trying to remember where you know him from.

Meanwhile, he knows who you are instantly. Call it brotherly instinct or vampiric senses or whatever you want, but he knows you are his sister.

The sister he thought he'd never see again.

Marko lunges for you as you shy away, but a rough hand on his shoulder stops him.

"Wait, don't hurt her!"

The others stare at him in confusion.

"She's my sister."

At that bombshell, everyone seems stunned into silence.

"Dwayne?" You finally say, tears welling up in your eyes, "Is it really you?"

He nods, unusually emotional as his throat closes, drowning any words he would have said. How many times has he thought about this moment? Dreamed of seeing his family again?

How many times have you thought of this? Wished for this?

You hesitate for a second before dashing into his arms, embracing him with tears falling down your cheeks.

David shares a look with the others at this unexpected turn of events.

Clearly they won't be eating Y/n anytime soon.

#lost boys #the lost boys #80s movies #reader insert #x reader #imagine #Dwayne

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stranger-who-writes-fiction · 3 years

Text

Ya know what these self-indulgent Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow posts need? Self-indulgent banner art, that’s what.

Spoilers for issue #4!

Let’s start this off right with CREATOR CREDITS. Issue 4 of Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow is titled “Restraint, Endurance, and Passion.” Written by Tom King, Art by Bilquis Evely, Colors by Matheus Lopes, Letters by Clayton Cowles, and Edited by Brittany Holzherr. (w/ Assist. Editor: Bixie Mathieu & Senior Editor Mike Cotton)

THE STORY:

Right, so this? This issue? Best one yet.

Also the bleakest of the bunch thus far; even though we don’t always see the brutality of the space pirates that Kara and Ruthye are following, there’s...the suggestion of it. The aftermath. And how Kara responds to it.

Okay, getting a little ahead of myself. BASIC PLOT SUMMARY: Ruthye and Kara continue their pursuit of Krem, who has taken up with Barbond’s Brigands.

The Brigands basically just. Murder and terrorize people, for profit.

Each planet they visit brings new horrors, as well as people who need Supergirl’s help.

And help she does.

KARA-CTERIZATION:

I yell a lot about the art on this book, and have, in fact, openly admitted that I’m primarily here for Evely and Lopes.

Well, that wily son-of-a-gun King went and wrote some of the best ‘Super’ stuff I’ve ever read and dang it, dang it, now I gotta yell about the words too. XD

Specifically, I wanna yell (in a good way!) about some words that occur towards the very end of the book.

Kara and Ruthye have Seen Some Things; things like genocide and mass grave sites and horrible violence, and upon reaching a planet where peaceful monks were slaughtered, Kara’s had enough, and needs to leave because if she screams, she’ll destroy what little is left of the monks’ monastery.

Here’s the text in full, because my gosh. It’s so good:

“What I write next I write based on my observations in those long-ago days at the side of the greatest warrior in the history of this august reality we all call home. It is important to note that my assertions do not rely on anything Supergirl said. It was not a subject we ever discussed or even approached, but nonetheless I believe it to be as true as the turning of worlds. You see, what is not well understood about the daughter of Krypton is that her power was not one of action but one of restraint, endurance, and passion. She did not choose to fire a beam from her eyes, or have breath of ice, or run faster than a speeding bullet. Or any of her other well-documented miracles. No, she held back her heat vision to look you in the face. She warmed her breath to converse with you. She slowed herself to walk by your side. Ever moment of every day, she suppressed the forces churning inside of her. All of the energy of a dead world that strained against her many barriers, eternally demanded to be released. I believe this effort hurt her. I believe she lived her life in pain. But I reiterate again, for I think it important enough to repeat--These beliefs are based on my time at her side, watching her as she moved through strife and sorrow. If you were to have asked her, I have little doubt she would have claimed that such as assertion was absurd. She would say she felt fine and well and then she’d as you if you needed any help.”

A long chunk of words, I know (this comic is DENSE!) but like. This is it. This is one of the defining attributes of the Supers--all that raw power at their disposal and they choose to help people, to be kind, to suppress that power for the benefit and safety of others.

HNNNNNNNG.

Hope, Help, and Compassion for All.

Whole lotta folks claimed at the outset of this book that King did not understand Kara, that he was a bad fit. And that may be so, I suppose--there’s a whole other discussion about like. The violence and swearing and ‘does that belong in a Supergirl book?’ But the characterization? Getting that Kara and Clark are just good people?

King gets it. He got it in Superman: Up in the Sky and he gets it here, in Woman of Tomorrow.

Other things King gets! Kara is stubborn! Kara is passionate! Kara is going to fix things, even if the effort of doing so hurts her, physically, emotionally, and mentally!

(Fuuuuuuun fact for the crowd saying that Woman of Tomorrow is vastly superior to the CW show: TV Kara is ALSO all of those things! King isn’t pulling this stuff out of thin air. It’s almost like...gosh. I don’t know! Both the show and Tom King are pulling from the character’s comic history, or something!!!! HOW NOVEL.)

Like, seriously. There’s a lot of overlap. Stop pitting Karas against each other!

Anyways!

I promised art, so here is art!

Oh, right, forgot to mention, Kara literally THROWS HERSELF INTO THE SUN to express her grief and anger, so as to not cause that unnecessary destruction. She gives new meaning to the phrase: Set yourself on fire to keep someone else warm.

More art yelling: GOTTDAMN, the way Evely draws Kara just colliding with the surface of the sun and then the way Kara’s hair like...becomes the flames...

I am FEELING FEELINGS. HOW DARE.

Also, props to King and Cowles; King for deciding to have that initial scream, Cowles for the way the letters burst forth from the point of impact on the sun, and then back to King who decided that it would just be...devastating silent screaming from Kara, for the remainder of the scene.

Back to the characterization, I just wanted to highlight something I mentioned...earlier on, I think? In these posts? But haven’t brought up recently, and that is how this book has not once brought up Zor-El, and I think Superman only got a quick mention in issue 2.

Honestly, I think that’s gotta be some kind of record.

It’s so refreshing. Not because I think there should never be mentions of Clark, or anything--I love that boy--but because so much of modern Supergirl comic drama is mined from the same like, angsting over her place compared to Clark, or her crazy sometimes-a-supervillain dad.

There is no Clark and Kara drama here, no manufactured friction, because it’s just. A cool Supergirl story!

Gonna keep going, but let’s do it with some more...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT!!!!

Once again, Mat Lopes is all over the dang place with his palettes, it’s marvelous.

Each new planet gives Evely the opportunity to go hog wild on the worldbuilding and design, and similarly! Each new locale is an opportunity for Lopes to set the tone with colors. Like, here, towards the beginning of the book, we’ve got a planet bathed in this warm, pale yellow/orange light.

(Quick note: “Sure, yeah, I get it. We all have our duties. And it’s mine as a neighbor to do what I can to help you with yours. Please.” A+ Kara content. We love to see it. And then locating the remains of the alien’s daughter, so that they can go visit the grave site and have some emotional closure???? It’s just. So. Touching.)

Anyways, back to colors.

Like!!!! LOOK AT THAT JUMP. From the soft, almost pastoral feel of the delicate oranges and yellows to HARD GREEN, PINK, AND PURPLE. (Difficult colors to pull off in print, I might add.)

(This is also an interesting scene, character-wise, because I think it helps re-contextualize some earlier stuff with Kara. Like, I’m mostly thinking that incident on the bus, where she was swearing at the passengers as the space dragon was about to destroy them. Here, we see Kara kind of...goad this alien woman into releasing her pent up emotions by yelling at her/getting her to fight, and you can clearly see at the end of it that Kara did not mean the things she said, because check this out:

She goes and gives her a hug once the woman is able to finally cry.

It’s not ‘Kara is being mean, Kara is swearing at her’, it’s, ‘Kara has an unorthodox solution to a problem, and she’s gonna FIX that problem, NO MATTER WHAT.’

Circling back to the bus thing--again, that could be an instance of ‘unorthodox approach to a weird situation that Kara is going to handle because lives are at stake.’)

But also, DIG THAT KIRBY KRACKLE, BAY-BEEEEE!

And a little Strange Adventures easter egg! The Pykkts!

(I think those guys are unique to the Black Label series, rather than deep Adam Strange lore, but don’t quote me on that.)

Moving on to YET ANOTHER PALETTE, one I’ve dubbed, ‘Treasure Planet Purple/Grey’

Love Ruthye’s snoozing against the door, waiting for Kara.

Also, just as striking as the colors of the environment, are the colors used on Kara.

If you compare this page with the previous one, Kara’s eyes are a paler shade of blue, and the red-rimmed look on her eyes here is not as intense as the red-rimmed look we saw back in issue one, when she was confronting Krem.

All of which to say! There’s a pale, haunted quality to both the linework and the colors. Like. We know Kara has Seen Some Things. But she’s shoving all that stuff down to protect Ruthye, to save Krypto, and to stop these monsters, and you get all of that WITH COLORS AND LINES ON A PAGE.

I love it, I love it so much.

OTHER BOOKS WISH THEY HAD THIS LEVEL OF CHARACTER ACTING, I TELL YA! THEY WISH THEY HAD THIS BEAUTIFUL ALCHEMY OF INKER, COLORIST, AND WRITER WORKING IN SUCH TIGHT TANDEM!

Ahem. XD

Alright, last bit of art, lest I just. Post the whole issue in here. (Which I’m honestly always tempted to do but Strong Feelings about Piracy hold me back.)

JUST HECKIN’ LOOK AT THAT BLUE, MAN. JUST LOOK AT IT. S’BEAUTIFUL.

And more stunning character acting from Evely. Like. Bottom middle panel. The expression, the tilt of her head and the shadows on her eyes...

*insert silent flailing here*

Oh, also, KRYPTO LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVESSSS (for now).

I’m never right about these things, so I’m glad the one time I’ve correctly read a thing is when it involves Krypto not, ya know. Being dead. XD

Also absolutely love that Kara’s instinct is to send Ruthye home to protect her--once more leaning into that whole, ‘I’m going to protect you, even at great cost to myself’, though of course we know that she can’t send her home, not here, not now, just halfway through our journey.

ERRRRRRGH, so mad we’re not getting twelve issues of this! CURSE YOU, POOR SUPERGIRL TRADE SALES! CURSE YOOOOOOU!

That said, King’s pacing? Has been phenomenal. I feel like Strange Adventures and even Mr. Miracle kinda...I’m not gonna say dragged, that’s not quite right. But it is more build up, I guess. Takes a while to get to the payoff.

Here, I think King is pushing things steadily along as he doesn’t have the benefit of an additional four issues, so he has to get to the point, so to speak. Keeps everything moving.

SOME FINAL, MISC. STUFF:

I’ve sort of glossed over the darker stuff from this issue, and I just wanna note that like. This is a book that features a bad guy getting stoned (in the death sentence way, not the drug way) on panel. Like. I can’t recommend this to children.

I can’t even really recommend it to some other Supergirl fans, because I know that the King elements will be too off-putting.

It never feels like the book is going too far, though. At least in like an...exploitative way? If that makes sense?

The violence is handled with discretion, I guess is what I’m trying to convey. This could very easily tip over into like, gross shock factor territory, if not handled well, but I think the creative team pulls it off.

...Still wouldn’t hand this book to kids, though. XD

As mentioned, we’re halfway through this series! Can’t wait to see where it goes--every time I think I have this book figured out, it surprises me. So, like. Bring on the Dinosaur planet! With no sunlight! I wanna see how Lopes handles THAT. XD

(But Oh, OooooOOooh, we gotta wait until NOVEMBER.)

(Hhhnnnnng!)

(Then again, maybe that’s good; we’ve got the TV show in the meantime, and then once it ends we can pick right up with new Supergirl content just a few weeks later.)

(...Aw. Made myself a little sad, thinking about the TV show coming to an end.)

So as not to end on that sad note, here once again is tiny, smushed Kara:

Give ‘em the ol razzle dazzle.

#stranger speaks #supergirl: woman of tomorrow #supergirl: woman of tomorrow spoilers #dc comics #comics talk #comics opinions #comics thoughts #long post #are those the right tags? I can never remember #gif

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friendship-ended-with-pokespe · 4 years

Text

Kirby: Rescue the Friend in the Great Labyrinth! Chapter 6

“Kirby......!” Having been running away from King Dedede, Waddle Dee saw Kirby in a big pinch and resolved himself. He stops fleeing and looks up at King Dedede. “Your Majesty, only you can save Kirby and Lord Meta Knight. Please take these drawing papers and the crayons......!”

“You dimwit, now you get it!? Hurry up and hand it over!” Snatching the papers and the crayons from Waddle Dee, King Dedede grinned and clutched the crayon. “Now then, what should the design be? I’ll make the design so cool that it’ll make Kirby Rocket look like no biggie!” King Dedede began eagerly drawing a picture. But he can’t quite draw as he wishes. Just as he learned from Claycia’s place, the king has......barely any......artistic talent. “Hmm......something’s wrong......more snazzily......how about I make some spikes sprout up? I’ll make a flag flutter, and......would it be cooler to have a propeller as well......?” “We don’t have any time, sire!” Waddle Dee urged the king in anxiety. “Kirby will be in danger unless you draw quickly......!” “I know that! Quit making a fuss! Ummm......something’s missing......I know, let’s put a laser gun. A light shining in seven colors as well......” “Hurry, sire!” “Dang it, the design ended up all weird because of your nagging!” “It isn’t weird! His Highness Rocket is sure to look cool regardless of the design!” Hearing that, Dedede’s spirits were lifted at once. “Hoho, what a nice thing to say, Waddle Dee. That’s how my underling should be.” “Please show me the dashing His Highness Rocket!” “Alrighty, I’ll show it right now!” King Dedede held the paper up high. Then, with the mysterious power of the paper, he immediately transformed just as it was drawn on the paper. Waddle Dee, who was about to clap his hands, suddenly paused midway. Having transformed, King Dedede looked down at Waddle Dee and asked. “How is it, Waddle Dee? Was I so handsome that you went numb?” “Uhh......ah......y-yes, sire. I went......numb.” “Okay, I see. Now I’ll show everyone the King Dedede Rocket. Don’t fall over from all the numbness!” Dedede tried to charge forward like Kirby Rocket. There is no force to it, however. Not to mention how unable to even fly straight, he wondered unsteadily in midair and fell to the ground.

“Owowow! What is this? Why can’t I go straight!?” “Your Majesty, erm......” Waddle Dee said nervously. “Isn’t it because of the deformed design that you can’t move straight? Besides, the balance is awful from all those decorations......” “Shut your gob! You have no idea how spiffy this is!” Rambled King Dedede, and flew up in the air a second time. He moves forward while staggering somehow. Still, unable to control the direction of his movement, he flies in a direction completely unrelated to Kirby and Meta Knight’s battle......

Kirby was retreating slowly while dodging Meta Knight’s attacks. (What should I do? If this keeps up......) Meta Knight’s sword has the power to cut just about anything. If he were to receive a frontal attack, even Kirby won’t be able to come out unharmed. (Just what should I do......!) If only he can use a Copy Ability. That was what he wished, but there is nothing he could do without an opponent to inhale. “Get a hold of yourself, Meta Knight! It’s me, Kirby!” Meta Knight’s attacks didn’t stop even as he called out. Taranza leaned backwards and laughed. “Kuhuhuhu! It’s no use. My spell doesn’t break that easily!” “Taranza......why are you doing this......?” Glancing over to Taranza, Kirby noticed something peculiar. The mirror that should’ve been behind Taranza is gone. “......Huh? Where did it go......?” Looking around quickly, what met his eyes was the retreating figure of Magolor waddling away with a large mirror on his back. “Magolor!” Hearing Kirby’s voice, Magolor picked up his fleeing pace. Kirby dodges Meta Knight slashing at him and shouts. “Taranza, look! Magolor is leaving with the mirror!” “......Eh?” Taranza at last realized that the mirror was missing. “W-What do you think you’re doing!? That mirror is Sectonia’s cherished treasure! Give it back~!” Together with his shouts, Meta Knight pitched forward and fell. Taranza’s spell was broken as a result of the distraction. “Wait~!” Taranza and Kirby ran after Magolor side-by-side.

But someone was charging at Magolor even faster than the two. It’s King Dedede, who has been straying as he was unable to control his direction. “Whoa~! Out of my way, ya’ll!” King Dedede Rocket was charging at Magolor while yelling. Magolor is blown away, taking a direct hit from the rocket. And at that juncture, the mirror soared in the air. “Sectonia’s treasure!” Yelled Taraza, and lunged at the mirror. King Dedede reverted back to normal, his transformation worn off from the impact of colliding with Magolor. He held his head and grumbled. “Owee......! How insolent of you to stand in my way. Just what are you up to, Magolor!?” “Thanks, King Dedede!” Yells Kirby, having rushed over to him. “I didn’t notice it even a little. We almost had the mirror taken from us. You realized what he was plotting, huh?” “Hmm......?” Kirby has it all wrong. King Dedede only happened to crash into Magolor, not really stopping him, but...... Taking advantage of Kirby’s misunderstanding, King Dedede swaggered. “Obviously. I can see right through anything. I was aware of his ploy from the get-go.” “I never scheme!” Magolor staggered up and played on his sympathy. The one he clung to was Taranza. “Trust me, Taranza. I’m not trying to steal the mirror. I was protecting it because those meatheads were trying to smash it. I’m your friend, after all!” “My......friend......?” “That’s right. We’ll combine the two of our strengths and do away with them!” “EHHHHH!?” Even Kirby is shocked by this. King Dedede raised his voice in fury. “The heck are you saying Magolor? You son of a biscuit......!” “He was after the mirror all along.” Meta Knight was the one to cut in from behind them. “Meta Knight!” Kirby, having turned around, had his eyes sparkling. Meta Knight hung his head and said. “Sorry about that, Kirby. I of all people slipped up.” “Taranza’s spell was broken, huh! Thank goodness!” “Aye. I won’t fall for it twice.” Meta Knight had his sword at the ready. Taranza and Magolor are standing before Kirby and his friends. Taranza’s eyes were even more vacant than just now. “How could they destroy her treasure......I’ll never forgive them......I shall protect it......” “That’s right, Taranza. We can’t forgive these jerks. I’ll lend my strength too!” Taranza slowly raised his six hands. “They’re coming, be careful.” Shouts Meta Knight. Thin, thin threads were released from his hands. Both Kirby and Meta Knight saw the attack. Dragged by Meta Knight, King Dedede narrowly dodged the attack as well. “Listen to me, Taranza. We’re not your enemies. We want to save you......!” Shouts Kirby. “You shouldn't be fooled by them, Taranza. He’s lying!” Said Magolor as he flew around Taranza. “Kirby and his friends hate Sectonia! Only you can protect her, Taranza!” “Right......I will protect Sectonia......!” Taranza sends out barrage of attacks in succession. Kirby glares at Magolor as he dodges the attacks frantically. Although Queen Sectonia was an evil queen, Taranza’s cherished feelings for her were very genuine. That is why he became immersed in the illusion that the mirror showed. Magolor is trying to take advantage of his heart. “That’s awful......Magolor......!” Kirby jumped up as though he was dancing. Magolor shrank back for a moment, but immediately regained his composure. “It’s no use prancing up, Kirby. You don’t have any Copy Ability! I’m not scared of you even a bit!” Though it was frustrating, Magolor was right on the nose. With his sword for Meta Knight, and his hammer for King Dedede, the two are fighting desperately. But Kirby doesn’t have any weapons. He cannot take on the powerful duo of Taranza and Magolor with his usual air pellets. Taranza’s strings strike at them, where Magolor launches his Magic Spheres in the spare moment. Kirby can’t do anything; not even back Meta Knight and Dedede up...... It was at that moment. “Kirby! Take a look at this!” A shout reverberated. It’s Waddle Dee. He comes running with the drawing paper held high. In that paper was a finely drawn picture of Kirby transformed into a tank. “Waddle Dee!” Together with Kirby’s shouting, the mysterious power of the paper took effect. Kirby transformed into a tank in an instant. “It’s Kirby Tank!” Shouts Waddle Dee in delight, and jumps up with the drawing paper raised up.

Kirby teems with vigor, having received the power to fight. Bullets shoot out one after another from the barrel of the tank. Filled with immense power, the bullets struck at Magolor and Taranza. “Whoa......wahhh......!?” Magolor’s countenance changed, having been sending out attacks in triumph. Taranza too is doing everything he can to dodge the flying bullets. The tables have turned in an instant with the appearance of the Kirby Tank. With bang, bang, vivacious sounds echoed, where Magolor and Taranza ran pell-mell. Meta Knight said to Kirby who continued shelling in a good mood. “Don’t get too carried away, Kirby.” “Hm?” “Narrow your aim to Taranza.” “Huh!?” “Don’t mind about Magolor. Shoot only at Taranza.” “No way......why!?” Kirby was bemused. Magolor is the foe that’s actually dangerous. Where Taranza is only being tricked by his lies. If he aims at one of them, then what about Magolor......? Meta Knight said sharply to Kirby wavering. “It’s to reveal his true intentions. Of course, we can’t have Taranza be seriously wounded. Leave him with only a scratch.” “S......Sure......” “I’m counting on you, Kirby.” “......Uh-huh!” Kirby settled his heart and took aim. Without even casting a look at Magolor flying about, he focuses only at Taranza. Taking firm aim, he holds his power back and bombards him. Kirby’s aim was precise. The bullet flew, landed a direct hit on Taranza, and Taranza fell on his back. “Taranza......!” Magolor was paralyzed with shock for a moment, but a smile came to his face. “Hehehe! Poor Taranza! I’ll be taking the mirror!” Magolor shouldered the mirror once more and took flight as fast as he could. “That is his true nature. He deceives others with cunning words and brings them over to his side. But in his heart, he only thinks of making his own wish come true.” Said Meta Knight. Taranza rose up slowly at that moment. Having received the bullet, he is staggering, but hasn't sustained any real injuries. King Dedede shouted. “Taranza, look! Magolor isn’t your friend or whatever! That prick was after the mirror from the start!” “Mirror......Sectonia’s......treasure......” “Yea, that’s it. You’ll kick his butt and take back the mirror!!!” Hearing King Dedede’s words, Taranza jumped up as though he was flung. Readying his six hands in a grand manner, he yells in a voice loud enough to shake the air. “UNFORGIVABLE!!! I shall protect her treasure!!” Strings were shot from his hands. The threads extended straight forward and twisted around Magolor. Magolor was thrown off his stance and fell down with the mirror on his shoulders. Taranza tried to pull the strings toward him. But Magolor attempted desperately to resist. He crawls and is trying to flee. Kirby tried to fire a bullet to assist Taranza. But the power of the tank was all gone now. “H......Huh?” With fwoosh......Kirby reverted back to normal. Waddle Dee ran over to Kirby and called out to him. “Kirby, are you okay!?” “Yeah......thanks, Waddle Dee! I was saved thanks to the drawing of the tank!” “That’s a relief!” Waddle Dee laughed in a bashful way. “I thought it’d be no use since there weren't any papers left. But I wondered if the back side would work, so I drew one quickly on the back of His Majesty Rocket. Although I couldn’t draw it neatly since I’m bad at drawing......” “That’s not true! It was really neat!” “But I used up all the papers. We ran out of the power to transform you......” Waddle Dee was downhearted. Kirby turned his eyes to the fight between Magolor and Taranza. Taranza is the superior one. Tied up by the thin strings, Magolor all but cannot move his body. “It’s alright even if we don’t have the power of the tank! We’ll catch him!” Kirby rushed over to Magolor. But Magolor also wouldn’t only be on the receiving end. With his movements sealed, he looked into the Dimension Mirror and squeezed his voice out. “Grant me my wish......I don’t want to lose to anyone. Make me more and more stronger!” “Not good!” Shouts Meta Knight, having realized what Magolor was scheming. “It’ll get out of hand if the power of the mirror is used by him. We’ve got to stop him......!” But he didn’t make it in. The mirror emitted white light, as though it was responding to his wish. “Wah......!?” Unable to endure the brightness, Kirby and the others closed their eyes. Just before he was able to open his eyes, Kirby sensed something abnormal. A tremendous pressure that he had never felt until now. He feels the pain of being crushed even when he hasn't received any attacks yet. Through the power of the mirror, Magolor has transformed into an enormous wicked monster just as he wished. A triumphant voice sounded from far above Kirby’s head. “Hahaha! Ya realize it now, Kirby!? It’s my win this time, for sure! I’m an almighty king that can do anything!” Sensing that the light has subsided, Kirby nervously opened his eyes. At the same time, King Dedede and Meta Knight opened their eyes as well. Everyone was speechless and stood stock still for a while. “......What are you. What is it that you want to do?” King Dedede was the one to open his mouth. Kirby, Meta Knight, Waddle Dee, and even Taranza were taken aback and looked up at Magolor.

He has certainly transformed more powerful than ever before. He became so humongous that the top of his head could only be faintly seen. On the outside however, he looked just the same as he was up to this point. He only became large with his round body and his eared hood still on. There is some pressure in proportion to his gigantification, but......if anything, it feels more like an enormous theme park attraction than an almighty king. Looking down at Kirby and the others, Magolor is laughing with glee. It does feel eerie, but......you could say that he sort of looks cute. Meta Knight sighed. “I see now. So this was his wish, to be the most powerful? How silly.” “Wahahahaha!” King Dedede bursted out laughing with his stomach held. “There goes all my fears. That’s just Magolor but bigger. I ain’t afraid of him even a bit” “What did you just say?” Magolor’s large eyes glared at King Dedede with goggling eyes. There definitely is some intensity in being glared from that high above. King Dedede holds his tongue. “You’re not afraid of me? Are you being serious?” His expression became severe. “I’ll teach you a lesson so that you would never say that ever again!” Magolor raised his large hands and tried to crush King Dedede. A gigantic shadow approaches King Dedede from above. With it being out of the blue, the king was unable to react and was wide-eyed. What rescued Dedede were threads invisibly thin to the eyes. It’s Taranza. The strings that he released wrapped around the king’s body and pulled him over. It was by a hair's breadth. The king flew in the air and was dropped to a safe spot. “Owwww......! I’m not a luggage, you know! Lower me a bit more carefully!” King Dedede keeps on complaining. Having rushed over with his expression changed, Waddle Dee thanked Taranza. “Thanks for saving His Majesty, Taranza!” Taranza however did not respond. He is looking around in a daze, like his consciousness is clouded. Him saving the king seems to have been an involuntary movement. “Taranza!” Kirby called out to him. Taranza looked at Kirby and said in wonder. “......Kirby? What are you doing? Where......am I?” “The effect on Taranza disappeared from Magolor getting hold of the mirror. Taranza hence was able to escape from the control of the mirror.” Said Meta Knight. “The mirror......” Taranza looked up at Magolor. Magolor still grasped the mirror tight with his gigantified hands. Taranza jumped up the moment he laid eyes on the mirror. His head seems to have cleared up at last. “Ah~! That’s the precious mirror that I offered to Her Majesty Sectonia! Why does he have that~!?” Meta Knight said. “He deceived you with skillful words and stole the mirror. He said that you were his best friend, but......” “Friend? Not a chance! He’s not my friend!” Taranza stamps his feet in frustration. “That jerk got close to me to steal the Dimension Mirror all along! He’s such a coward......!” Meta Knight interrupted Taranza who was about to go on and on. “You can tell us about your frustrations later, Taranza. We should focus on the battle right now.” “......Gotcha!” Taranza turned to the gigantic Magolor. Magolor snickered. It may have been only a low giggle to him, but just about anything was exceptionally large for Magolor right now. The air trembled. “Give back the mirror!!!” Shouts Taranza, and shoots strings at him. The strings extended straight forward and twined around Magolor’s hands. But no matter how powerful the strings are, it has no effect on Magolor right now. He effortlessly tore off the string and began laughing once more. “Hehehe! It doesn’t work on me even a teensy bit. Is this all that you guys got?” Magolor raises his hands and tries to crush Kirby and the others. Rolling on the floor in desperation, Kirby and his friends ran about in a flurry. His sword for Meta Knight, his hammer for King Dedede, and his strings for Taranza. They each try to deliver an attack, but can't even make a dent before the absurdly enormous Magolor. Kirby tried to at least back everyone up with his air pellets, but it was of no use whatsoever. “I would like you to do it seriously, Kirby!” Taranza lost his temper. “There’s no way a ball of air like that will work on him! Use your Copy Ability like when we fought in Floralia!!” “I can’t, Taranza......!” Kirby said in frustration. “I can’t use a Copy Ability unless I inhale someone with a skill. But there aren’t any opponents that I can inhale here......!” “So you can't fight!? Yikes, Kirby can’t be of any use in a crucial time like this......!” When Taraza had his shirt out and jumped up: Something squirmed at his feet. “......Wah!? What!?” Taranza stumbled and fell down. What split the floor and rose up was a yellow creature with round eyes. Strangely enough, part of its body is composed of a mirror. Or rather, it covered the mirror and seems to have assimilated with it. The odd creature shouts in an annoyed manner. “So noisy! Can’t you be quiet a little? Talk about taking a nap......” “W-What are you......?” Asked Taranza in a shaky voice, having fallen on his backside. Before the odd creature could answer, said Meta Knight. “You’re Mirra, huh. You’re a guy who clings to a mirror and hides.” “You know me? I see, I’m quite famous after all.” The creature called Mirra started laughing as though it wasn’t too shabby. “This ain’t your business! Keep your nose out!” Hollered King Dedede. “No, it’s the opposite. Mirra will be of help to us!” Shouts Meta Knight. Blinking its round eyes, Mirra was suddenly seized with fear.

”Will be of help......what? I don’t have anything to do with you guys......” “Wait.” Meta Knight swiftly thrusted his sword before Mirra’s eyes. Mirra, who was about to crawl under the floor once again, cringed with fear. “Don’t move. I’ll cut you if you move.” “W-Why!? I’m not doing anything!!” “Yeah, you don’t need to do anything. Just stay still right there.” “H......Huh......?” “By using that mirror you have, we can come and go freely within this maze. Waddle Dee!” His name called by Meta Knight, Waddle Dee rolled over to him. “Y-Yessir!” “Leave this room by going through his mirror. Then come back quickly with a creature that’ll provide Kirby with a Copy Ability.” “Eh......ehh!? Me!? But you can’t possibly leave such an important task to me......” “You’re the one that can move the fastest. I’m counting on you, Waddle Dee.” Waddle Dee hesitated. But Magolor sends out attacks in succession even in the meantime. Kirby is doing all he can to avoid by jumping about. Seeing his state, Waddle Dee’s heart stirred. (Kirby will be able to fight if only he has a Copy Ability. There’s no way he’ll lose to someone like Magolor!) Waddle Dee raised his face and nodded. “Roger, sir! I’ll be back!” While shouting, Waddle Dee dove into Mirra’s mirror. King Dedede glowered at Meta Knight. “Waddle Dee is my subordinate. Only I can push him around!” “Sorry about that, King Dedede. Just this once.” Meta Knight looked up at the enormous Magolor. “We’ll buy time until Waddle Dee returns. Let’s go!” Meta Knight readied his sword and slashed at Magolor. “Hmph, I’m not letting only you look cool!” King Dedede also raised his favorite hammer overhead.

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#kirby novels #kirby of the stars #light novel #translation #kirby #waddle dee #king dedede #meta knight #magolor #taranza #king dedede rocket

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megs-readstoomuch · 3 years

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Newest installment in my “Shadowhunters: Parenthood Edition” stories. The rest can be found on AO3 HERE!!!

Happy Birthday Reesa!

Jace woke up earlier than usual. He stretched and immediately turned his head to check on Clary, as he always did when he awakened. She was still asleep, red hair fanned out on her pillow and the quietest of snores coming from her mouth. Jace grinned. She never believed him when he said she snored, but honestly, he found it adorable, so he didn’t complain that much. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment to breathe her in. He smiled and gave her one more quick, light kiss.

Jace slid quietly from the bed and went about his morning routine of shaving and dressing. As he sat to put his socks and boots on, he heard her. She was humming the lullaby Jace had played her last night before bed, as he did every night. The song his Mom had sang to him and his siblings when they were young. With a smile, Jace went into the nursery and found his daughter standing in her crib, the morning sun slowly turning the room a warm gold. Reesa’s strawberry blond curls were wild from her night’s sleep and stood out like a cloud around her head. She had a thumb in her mouth and was still humming their song, but broke into a smile when she saw Jace.

“Hi Dada!” She waved her hand excitedly as if they were seeing each other again after a long journey. Jace lifted her from the crib, kissing each cheek. She laughed and patted his face.

“How is my girl?” Jace said as he proceeded to change her sleeper. He picked out one of the bright, colorful rompers Magnus and Clary kept her closet filled with and started dressing her. She wiggled as she waited on him to finish the snaps and buttons. “Guess what Reesa?”

The little girl blinked at him in response, as he tried to tame her curls a little with the tiny hair clips Clary bought. “Today is your first birthday. It is a big day. You’ve been here with Mama and Daddy a whole year. You are one.” He surveyed his work. Dang, he was getting good at this hair thing.

“I’m one.” Reesa said, watching as he proceeded to put her shoes on. He let her fasten the Velcro tabs herself. “All done!” She held her hands out.

“Excellent work.” Jace complimented her, lifting her down off the changing table and stood her on the floor.

“Where Mama?” Reesa asked as Jace careful put her favorite old stele of his in the pocket of her romper.

“Mama is sleeping. It’s just you and me this morning.” Jace answered her. “Shall we have breakfast?” He held out his hand. She slipped a tiny soft hand into his callused, scarred one and Jace felt his heart swell again with joy over having this little girl in his life.

“Mama sleeping.” Reesa said. “Ssssh.” She twisted her face into a comical shush and pressed a finger to her lips. Jace grinned at her.

“Exactly.”

———

There were only a handful of people in the dining hall this early, as it was barely 5 o’clock. Jace liked it this way though. Mostly those present were coming in late off of patrol, bleary eyed and exhausted. But despite that, each one perked up a little at the sight of the toddler in her bright pink romper, with the butterfly clips in her hair. She always waved at everyone as she and Jace moved through to find a table to sit at.

Reesa refused a high chair on the grounds she was “nota baby”, instead kneeling in the chair next to Jace, happily eating her bacon. Jace nursed his cup of coffee and just watched her. He couldn’t believe it had been a year since she arrived. He still remembered it, he had never been so scared and happy. And now look at her. One year old.

He pushed away the ever present worry about her “Angel gifts” as the family called them. She was just one, but she functioned more like a 2yo. She was quick and smart, speaking in small sentences already. She could jump and run faster than your average child, quick with all her reflexes and motor skills too. She was also taller than average. Aside from all this and a predilection for being found constantly leaping off of the top of Jace’s baby grand and landing perfectly every time, she had yet to exhibit any other manifestations of her pure Angel blood inheritance. Jace still wondered if she would have any of Clary’s gifts. Tessa often hinted that there would be more to Reesa than she had shown them so far.

“More please.” A tiny voice cut into Jace’s thoughts. Reesa had finished her bacon and eggs and was looking expectantly at Jace. “More bacon.”

“Alright, but just two more, ok?” Jace answered her, raising up from his chair.

“Okey doke,” she said, picking her orange juice up with both hands. He chuckled.

———

Clary found them in the office after she had woken and had her own breakfast. Jace at his desk and Reesa on his lap, as usual. He was flicking through night patrol reports on his tablet and Reesa was concentrating on drawing runes on a notepad, her tiny tongue stuck out in concentration.

“Hi Mama!” Reesa cried, wiggling off of Jace’s knee to run around the desk and into Clary’s arms.

“Hi, my baby,” Clary kissed her on the cheek and then blew a raspberry against the soft skin. Reesa giggled. “Happy Birthday!”

“I’m one!” Reesa held up one finger proudly.

“Yes, you are! And we are going to have a party for you,” Clary kissed the outstretched index finger.

“A party?” Reesa crinkled her forehead in confusion.

“A party?” Jace made the same face.

Clary smiled at the resemblance. “Uncle Magnus is planning a party for your birthday. With cake!”

The one year old’s eye lit up. “CAKE!” She yelled, wiggling to be put down so she could run around her mother in a happy gallop while continuing to yell about cake.

“It will be at 5 this evening,” Clary told Jace over Reesa’s yells. “I already asked Underhill to cover your patrol so the whole family can be there.” Jace frowned a little. He hated to ask favors of the other Shadowhunters, even if he was the Co-Head of the Institute. Clary walked around the desk and sat on the arm of his chair. “It’s for Reesa’s birthday. Underhill was happy to do it. And you can cover his next patrol to make up for it, he said.”

Jace’s brow smoothed out. “Well, that does seems more fair.” Clary kissed his cheek and then leaned against him as they watched their daughter dance happily around the room.

———

“I think Magnus made the apartment bigger to fit everyone,” Alec whispered to Jace as they walked into the living room from the kitchen.

“You think? Because I don’t remember there being two bathrooms in the hallway,” Jace pointed out. “Or that hatrack. Tell me that’s not anyone we know, by the way.”

“Dang it, you’re right,” Alec agreed, ignoring the query about the hatrack and sipping from his plastic cup. He made a face. “What is this?”

“Something called punch,” Jace eyed his own pink drink warily. He didn’t like pink drinks in general . “Jocelyn insisted it is what mundanes drink at birthday parties.”

“By the Angel, why?” Alec muttered, quickly dumping the rest of the drink in the ficus behind him (that he was pretty sure hadn’t been there this morning).

“No idea,” Jace said, tossing back the last dredges in his cup and swallowing.

“You still drank it?”

Jace raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever known me to reject food or drink?”

“Fair enough,” Alec said.

Clary came over with two bottles in hand. “Here. Have some water. That punch is as gosh-awful as it was when I was kid.” The two men gratefully accepted the drinks.

A crash came from the kids’ room. The parents all turned, waiting for any cries of distress.

“Everything’s fine!”shouted Rafe. Alec raised an eyebrow.

“I think I’ll check anyway,” he shook his head and went down the now extra long hall to his sons’ room where Rafe and Max were “fighting demins”, according to Max.

Clary slid her arms around Jace’s waist and he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. They looked around the room.

Jocelyn, Kadir, and Maryse were chatting in the corner, the every present dried paint visible on the back of Jocelyn’s hand and around her nails as she made a gesture in the air. Maryse nodded to whatever was being said and politely sipped from her cup, making no face but Jace knew his mother enough to see in her eyes what she thought of “punch”. He bit his lip to keep from smiling. Kadir was very focused on Jocelyn’s story, his own hands suspiciously empty.

Luke and Simon bookended the sofa, a 4-month pregnant Isabelle with the start of a baby bump sitting between them. All three were discussing a new weapon the Iron Sisters had sent to the Institute this week. Simon was particularly excited, waving his hands about. Isabelle rubbed her bump and watched him in amusement.

Tess and Jem were sitting on the loveseat, Reesa sitting on Tessa’s lap and talking with them. She was making some of the same gestures with her hands that Jocelyn was making and Tessa nodded encouragingly at her. Mina was sitting in the floor, leaning against her father’s legs with a surprisingly content Chairman Meow on her lap, bedazzling his fur with sparks of magic from her fingers.

Magnus was busily waltzing around the dining room, flashes of magic visible as he finished placing copious amounts of purple, pink, and blue streamers and balloons around a banner that said, “Happy Birthday Baby Biscuit”. Alec had gently pointed out no one else called Reesa that but Magnus had merely kissed him firmly and said, “I make the party rules.” Alec had said nothing more and left him to his decorating.

“You know,” Jace mused. “I never had family around for birthdays until I my 11th. And that wasn’t even my birthday, as we now know. And really by the time you get your first rune, it’s downplayed. Shadowhunters don’t do parties much. Just a cake if everyone is around. But the Institute was always empty. And of course I didn’t have anyone else...before. I got a gift or a wish as you know, but it wasn’t the same as this. I like this. Except maybe the punch.”

“I do too. I like birthdays. I had my first kiss on my 16th birthday, you know,” Clary gave him a saucy grin. Jace shot her a look that made her stomach flip. He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“You better stop, Mrs. Herondale. I’m not a well-behaved man.” Clary giggled.

“Alright you two, stop it,” Alec rolled his eyes at them, coming down the hall with his son’s following behind him like baby ducks, each carrying a fake weapon of some sort, the two boys in their miniature gear jackets that they played in. Both their cheeks were red from their “battle” but they looked pleased with themselves.

“And the crash?” Clary asked.

“Bookshelf. Magnus will have to sort it,” Alec shook his head. Rafe and Max looked properly contrite, although Clary knew them enough to know they weren’t really. She winked at them.

“Time for cake!” Magnus announced and everyone gathered in the dining room. Reesa was given the seat of honor and a rounding chorus of “Happy Birthday” was sang. She sang along, much to everyone’s amusement.

She carefully blew out her candle, and Max relit it so he could blow it out too. Reesa found this hilarious, so Max and Mina kept relighting it until everyone had blown out the candle and Magnus finally had to remove the stub from the cake before a second round of candle blowing was started.

The cake was, of course, delicious. Magnus hinted strongly that it had came from France.

“I left money in the till,” He hastened to add before anyone said anything. “But our babies have to have the best cake.”

Clary watched as Reesa picked up her plate and licked the frosting off. “I think you chose well,” she said. Jocelyn shook her head in amusement and cleaned the chocolate off of Reesa’s nose and eyebrows.

“Bapak! Present time! Present time!” Max was bouncing in excitement as Rafe carried in the gift.

Magnus placed the brightly wrapped present in front of a wide-eyes Reesa who looked at him expectantly. “Magic?” She asked.

With a smile, Magnus snapped his fingers and the paper and ribbon unfurled to reveal a tiny gear jacket of her own. Reesa squealed. “On! Now!” She demanded.

Clary complied, slipping it over her bright pink romper and zipping it up. Reesa rubbed her hands over the jacket in amazement. Jace squatted next to her chair and adjusted the collar.

“Can you say thank you to everyone?” He prompted her gently.

“Thank you Unca Alec and Unca Magnus,” she whispered, still in awe. “And Nana and Papa and Gran’ma and Kad and Unca Simon and Ant Izzy and Max and Rafe and Jem and Nonna Tessa and Mina.” The adult all smiled as the little girl listed her whole family.

Alec smiled and knelt next to Jace. “Look,” he showed the little girl the pocket for her stele, tucking it in for her.

“You’re ready to fight now, Baby Biscuit,” Magnus said.

Max and Rafe bounced around her. “Yeah, we are all ready now!”

“Me too,” Mina cried, sending golden sparks through the air as she jumped down to dance with the boys.

“Well then, how about you all go train outside,” Magnus directed, snapping his fingers to cover every surface of the spacious balcony with large soft training mats, a low balance beam, and wooden swords. Reesa gave a suspiciously high jump off her chair and landed next to Rafe. He grabbed her hand and the four children ran outside.

———

The grownups sat down to enjoy decent, less sugary food (courtesy of Simon’s sister Rebecca’s restaurant, which Magnus used as often as he could) and watch the kids through the large windows. The punch had mysteriously disappeared (Jace wasn’t going to point fingers, but he suspected his mother had instigated a punch-removal directive to Kadir), so Magnus produced “adult drinks”.

Jace stood next to the window, watching the children play. Reesa was observing Rafe, who was showing Mina how to balance on the balance beam while holding her hand. When they were done, Reesa tried too, but refused assistance. She managed to walk it as easily as if she were on the ground and even did a large jump at the end.

“She’s good.” Jem had come up beside him, his eyes on his daughter who was comparing magic colors with Max. They were shooting little sparks in the air, and Reesa was laughing as they landed on her hair and arms.

“She is,” Jace said, a mix of pride and worry in his voice.

“Having a child with a gift you can’t exactly understand, it’s not easy,” Jem admitted. Jace looked at him, realizing Jem was a former Shadowhunter, with a half shadowhunter-half warlock wife and a child with an odd mix of warlock and shadowhunter blood.

“I don’t care about her gifts so much anymore, I just want her to be happy,” Jace said quietly. “I wasn’t, as a child. I want her to be more than just her gifts.”

“I remember you,” Jem mused. “You were the quietest, most composed, well-trained, and polite 10 year old I had ever met.”

“The ship. The attack by the werewolves on that ship the night I came to live with the Lightwoods.” Jace looked surprised. “I had forgotten, that was the first time we met, wasn’t it? I used your staff. The one with WH carved on it.”

“Yes. Your gifts were very visible that day, I just didn’t see them clearly. I’m sorry you weren’t happy, though.”

“I was later. I found part of my happiness with the Lightwoods. And the rest,” Jace’s eyes searched out Clary, laughing with Tessa and her mother near the fireplace. “The rest with Clary. And now with Reesa.”

“I understand,” Jem replied. And he did. He knew the fulfillment of happiness that came with love. With Will, with Tessa, with Mina and Kit. He saw that same completion in Jace now, what had been missing all those years ago when he had been the solemn and determined child with those golden eyes and that Herondale recklessness that had reminded Jem of Will even then.

The two men watched as Mina and Reesa joined hands to run away from Max and for a moment, it seemed like Reesa’s eyes glimmered and Mina’s fingers sparked a brighter gold and they seemed to be moving faster than they should have been. He blinked and it was gone. Jace’s brow was slightly furrowed , as if he had seen something as well.

“I think...those two may be trouble together,” Jem said.

“A Herondale and a Carstairs? Definitely. I’ve heard the stories from Tessa.” Jace laughed and Jem joined him.

“Oh yes. Will and I.” Jem smiled at the memories. “Will and Tessa’s daughter Lucie, her parabatai was also a Carstairs. Their son’s was a Fairchild.”

“Herondales, Carstairs, Lightwoods, and Fairchilds. Chaos and mayhem since the beginning, is what you’re saying?” Jace queried.

“Yes,” Jem confirmed. The two men stood in silence for a moment, watching the children play.

“Mundanes have gifted children too, you know.” Jem murmured. “But I think it means they are better at things like math and reading.” Jace looked bemused at this. Reesa turned and saw him watching her. She waved. He waved back.

“I can’t wait to see what they do,” Jace said softly. Jem nodded in agreement.

“I think,” Jem paused as Reesa and Mina joined hands again, their black and golden-red heads bent together to listen to Rafe and Max. “I think they’ll change the world.”

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kutemouse · 4 years

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Becoming His (Part Two, Smut Version)

Disclaimer: The images from my header belong to BigHit and BTS, but I edited them together.

Alright all you kuties, I know a lot of you have been waiting for this since… what has it been, 31, almost 32 hours since I’ve posted part one? Dang, it feels like longer lol. Time is weird in this isolation period.

Anyways, I know the original request asked for fluff only BUT (and I am so sorry 😟) I included a smut scene. The story called for it, and my fingers were typing, and it just happened. However, I have also written a smut-free version due to the fact that I know there are kuties who are fasting at this time who read my work. I posted that here. You can also find it on my MasterList.

Shoutouts to these sweet kuties:

@kpopyandere for being the best unnie account to encourage and motivate me ever, the biggest thank you 💜

@apurpledheart for your lovely comments, thank you 💜

@rowoons-noona for your sweet comment, thank you 💜

@illnevertrustmyselfagain for loving my writing and supporting me, thank you 💜

@clarkcling for being my second ever requester, and the first to reach out to me and tell me how much they like my work, thank you 💜

@kutieanon (anyone who’s sent me anything anonymously) for keeping me busy with requests and inspiring the hell outta me, thank you 💜

And so, without further ado, I present you with Part Two. Enjoy 💜

Age Recommendation: 18+ (I mean it! There is explicit SMUT in this part!)

Warnings: Swears, full-out smutty masturbation scene (so sorry again), SOMEONE coming in and being a total ASS, Joon being possessive af.

Word Count: 2,718

Summary: A bit after moving to a new neighborhood, you happen to meet your sexy new neighbor completely by coincidence. Or was it?

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Becoming His (Namjoon One-Shot, Yandere, Angst, Fluff, Smut) Part Two

You didn’t see Namjoon after that day. You were hoping to catch him jogging, or shooting baskets in his backyard again, but he didn’t come outside. Or, if he did, he didn’t during the times you were out and about. You were hoping to apologize, at least. He didn’t have to give you another shot, but at night when your fantasies seemed more vivid, you imagined he was as eager as you were to smooth things over with a quick conversation and a long fuck.

Namjoon, however, saw you. He watched from partially closed blinds as you went about your routine, seemingly unbothered by the fact that you completely blew him off. Each night, he waited until you turned off your lights for the night, watching the clock slowly tick until exactly twenty minutes went by, then slipped outside. He quietly climbed the fence between your yards and sat beneath your window, trying to get as close to you as possible.

Namjoon wanted to make things right, he just couldn’t concoct a scenario that wouldn’t come off badly to you. After all, you already rejected him. What could he do to make you love him the way he loved you? He couldn’t force you… or could he? While he toyed with that idea, the best Namjoon could currently hope for was that you would coincidentally bump into him, realize what you were missing out on, and come back to him.

One night, you cracked your window to try and relieve some of the oppressing summer heat swarming your home before you went to bed. As soon as you closed your eyes, you imagined Namjoon, his upper half naked once more as you finally caught him jogging. “Hey!” you would say, waving at him from your front yard, your robe falling open to reveal your lace nightie.

He’d stop in front of you with that trademark smirk showing off his dimples, panting heavily, sweat running down his muscular back, and you’d both finally give in to your desires. Lips would crash together, and clothes would come off before you could even slam your front door behind you. You both were so eager to feel the other, you wouldn’t even be able to make it to the bedroom.

“Namjoon!” you gasped, sliding your fingers inside of yourself, imagining it was his cock instead.

Back in reality, Namjoon perked up when he heard you moaning his name. He didn’t realize your window was open, and at first it made him freeze with fear. Had you possibly heard him sneak into your backyard? But then, as you let out another moan, he felt his muscles relax as your voice completely consumed him. Almost unconsciously, Namjoon slid his hands underneath his athletic shorts, cupping himself. It was all he could do to not answer your moans with a groan of his own.

Your voice got louder and louder as you pleasured yourself, completely forgetting your window was open, and Namjoon pumped himself faster and faster, wanting to release at the same time you did. With a semi-muffled whiny scream, you cried out his name once more. “Oh god, oh god, Namjooooon!”

The real Namjoon silently dropped his mouth open, shakily panting as cum spurted out onto his hand. He made a huge mess in his shorts, but he didn’t care. Just hearing your sweet voice calling out his name made him hard. He just wished he was actually in your bedroom with you, actually stuffing you full with his thick cock, actually feeling you clench around him as you screamed his name. It was all he could do not to go around to the front of your house and knock on your door. But it was the middle of the night, and you weren’t supposed to know he was there.

Still, Namjoon needed a plan, and fast. Not being able to be near you was becoming too much to bear. The next day, as he lounged on his couch staring at the ceiling, trying to come up with some way to get you to talk to him again. He could follow you to the grocery store, bump into you there? No, too obvious. He also didn’t want to try something he already tried, knowing he’d just come off as pathetic.

A knock on his door made him sit up straight. Who could that be? He opened the door to see you there, of all people. “Hey,” you said, giving him a tentative smile.

“Hey.”

“I just came to give you this,” you said, handing him a piece of paper. It was a flyer for… a neighborhood party? At your place?

“I just wanted to get to know everyone on the block,” you explained. It was lame, you knew that, but you needed an excuse to see him and talk to him and this was the best you could come up with. You figured a party with other people around would ease some of the pressure, and maybe you would find a chance to apologize.

Namjoon smiled, showing off his signature dimples and making your stomach flip over itself. “Wow, this sounds great, Y/n.”

Ugh, you loved the way he said your name. If you could take a recording of just that sound, you’d listen to it for the rest of your life.

“Great, so I’ll see you there?” you said hopefully.

His dark eyes bore into you with a gaze so intense you just had to glance away. “Of course you will,” he said. The words dripped from his lips like honey, and although they had no sensual connotation whatsoever, they awoke something in your middle that went straight to your core. Namjoon bit his lip, slowly releasing it from between his teeth, and you swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure even as your panties grew damp.

“Awesome, well, I’ll see you Friday,” you muttered before turning away and stumbling across his lawn back to your safe haven.

Namjoon’s smirk didn’t diminish even after you ran away once more. This time, though, he knew you weren’t running because you were rejecting him… you were running because you were holding yourself back. Namjoon had no idea why, but he didn’t care. He would break you.

Friday arrived, and you made yourself stay busy in order to keep your thoughts away from Namjoon. It worked for a while, but then he began drifting into your mind as you started getting ready and setting up. Would he like the catered sandwiches you ordered? Would he appreciate the short-yet-sensible polka-dot dress you spent hours shopping for?

Finally, 5:30 arrived, and the first set of neighbors showed up. It was the elderly couple who lived around the corner. You welcomed them in and thought it was so sweet when they told you they brought a salad to share.

You whipped open the door each time the doorbell rang, your hopes soaring then falling when you realized it wasn’t him. The family with three little ones came, the young just-married couple came, and even the three rowdy college boys who lived behind you came. Free food could really draw in a crowd, but still, he didn’t show up.

An hour later, you nearly gave up on the thought of seeing him. You guessed you imagined the electric attraction between the two of you. Either way, you were majorly disappointed. You were setting dishes in the sink when you heard a voice behind you. “Hey there.”

You spun, nearly dropping the glass you were holding. “Namjoon!” you gasped.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he chuckled, holding his hands up. “I knew you’d probably be busy and just let myself in. Hope that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.”

It definitely was if he was walking around looking like that. He sported a light blue collared shirt, casually unbuttoned low enough to show off some chest, and dark trousers. He looked like he just got back from the office, pulled off his tie, and came over. Your fingers twitched, wishing it was you who pulled off that tie.

He stepped towards you, getting so close you could smell his cologne. It was so light, you wouldn’t know he was wearing it unless you were in tight proximity… just like now. You cleared your throat and moved away, but he moved with you as if chasing you. “Y/n,” he murmured, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

“Y-Yes Namjoon?”

You backed up all the way to the counter, gasping as you felt the edge of it press into your skin. Just then, your neighbor Sunhee, the mother of the three kids currently screaming and running around your backyard, popped her head into the kitchen. “Oh, hello Mr. Kim,” she said brightly. “Y/n, I was just coming in here to see if you needed any help.”

“Oh, that would be great, thanks.”

The rest of the party went without a hitch, and you found yourself bright and cheery as you talked with and got to know your new neighbors. Everyone was so damn nice, but secretly, you were anticipating the moment they would all leave you alone with the one person you actually wanted to be with. As the evening wore on, people began to make their good-byes, thanking you for such a great time. “We really need to do this more often,” Sunhee said, hugging you tight. “It’s so good to see everyone.”

“Agreed,” you said, hugging her back.

Over her shoulder, you saw a familiar figure open and close your door, and your heart completely stopped. He brushed his long, dark hair out of his eyes and looked around, smirking when his eyes finally found yours. Your legs turned to jelly as that smirk crashed into you. Damn. Even after all this time, he still affected you, no matter how much you tried to shove it down.

You thanked Sunhee for coming one last time and made sure everyone else was out before stopping that asshole in his tracks. “What are you doing here, Jungkook?” you muttered, placing a hand on his chest.

“What do you mean?” he asked, poking his tongue between his teeth and quickly withdrawing it. “I came to see you.”

“Yeah, right,” you snapped. “You have no right, coming in here like you own the place.”

“I might not own this place, but I own you,” he said, his cocky tone setting your teeth on edge.

“No you don’t.”

He stepped close, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure about that?”

You shoved him backwards. “Get out.”

The corners of his perfect, pink mouth turned up in a menacing smirk. “No.”

“I thought I made myself clear,” you hissed. “I’m no longer going to be your fuck-buddy, Jungkook. I wanted something more, but you made it clear you didn’t.”

“I don’t recall saying anything of the sort.”

You scoffed. “You didn’t have to use words. Finding you in bed with another girl the day after you told me you had feelings for me was plenty.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Please. We weren’t exclusive.”

“Maybe not, but you don’t just go and fuck another girl right after telling another you care for them!”

“Everything okay, Y/n?” a voice asked. You turned to see Namjoon standing there, his chin raised as he defiantly stared Jungkook down, large hands shoved in his pockets.

Jungkook scoffed. “Are you kidding me, Y/n? Look at you, the complete hypocrite. We’re apart for less than a month, and you already have another boy toy.”

“He’s nothing of the sort,” you muttered, folding your arms and turning away from him. “I said I didn’t want you here. Now please leave.”

“No chance in hell,” he growled. “I came back here to see you, and I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”

Something inside of you snapped. “Which is what?! Another booty call?! I said I was done with you, Jungkook, so either get the fuck out or I’ll call the police.”

Jungkook started towards you, but before you could react, Namjoon stepped in front of him. “She said leave,” he said. His eyes flashed with a dark anger that turned the tension from smoldering ash up to a roaring flame. You took a step back, suddenly afraid. You had never seen this side of him before.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Jungkook snarled, attempting to push Namjoon out of the way.

“Actually, it does,” Namjoon growled. “She’s mine.”

“She just said–”

“And I’m saying she’s mine.”

Rage roiled off Namjoon in tidal waves, threatening to break everything that stood in his way. Jungkook snorted. “Unbelievable,” he muttered.

“Call me when you’re ready to be fucked properly again, bitch,” he spat at you as he turned and walked out the door.

Your legs gave out underneath you, and you sank to the floor. This was definitely not how you wanted tonight to go. Namjoon instantly came to you, concern written all over his face. “Are you alright?” he asked, gently reaching out.

“Don’t touch me!” you snapped. “What the hell was that? Why did you say I was yours?”

Namjoon drew back, shocked. “What?”

“That phrase you kept saying. ‘She’s mine.’ Why would you say that?”

“Well, because… because…”

“Because what?!”

“Because I care about you, Y/n!”

You stared at Namjoon, searching for any signs of untruthfulness or deceit that you had commonly found in Jungkook’s eyes, but there was nothing but pure sincerity in his eyes. Breathing hard, you stood up from the floor, still trembling from the confrontation. Namjoon reached out to help you, but withdrew his hands quickly.

“No, it’s okay,” you said, your tone more gentle now.

You tentatively placed your hands on his chest, fingers lightly stroking the collar of his shirt. “I… I care about you too,” you whispered.

Relief flooded through Namjoon, putting out the roaring fire of anger he felt earlier. He stepped close enough for you to catch a whiff of his cologne again, enticing the rest of your senses to dive in. He was only centimeters away, close enough to feel the heat radiating between his body and yours, but not close enough to feel the hard, broad muscles of his shoulders. You looked up into his eyes, his pupils blowing wide as you studied each other, waiting for someone to make the next move.

After longing after each other for so long, you thought he wouldn’t wait a single second to be with you, but it turns out you were both vulnerable, both afraid of messing this up, so you took it slow. Each small movement drew you closer together, no matter how minute. The way his eyes roamed your face. The way you slowly slid your hands up to rest on his shoulders. The way his lips hovered tantalizingly over yours.

Finally, as if on cue, you both lunged towards each other, crashing your lips together to meld into one, perfect kiss. It stayed sweet and innocent for longer than you would’ve liked, with Namjoon being careful to keep his tongue inside his own mouth no matter how much he was yearning to taste you. You separated from each other, both breathless, and Namjoon continued peppering kisses down your cheek to your jaw. You sighed and tightened your grip on him. “Say you’re mine,” he murmured.

You opened your eyes. “Wh-What?”

“Say you’ll be mine.” He drew back and smiled, nothing but sincere tenderness in his eyes.

“Are… Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?” you whispered.

He hesitated, then nodded. Your mouth parted open. No, this was too quick. Much too fast. You barely knew the guy, hadn’t even been on a date with him yet, and yet here he was, asking for the commitment you’d been craving.

His gaze grew apprehensive as he waited for your answer, but you continued looking into those dark, beautiful eyes. He felt so warm on top of you. You liked him, there was no doubt about that, and the spark of attraction was definitely there. Fuck it, what did you have to lose? You wanted to become his.

“Okay,” you murmured.

“What?”

“Okay. Yes. I’ll be yours.”

Namjoon let out a relieved sigh. “Really?”

“Really.”

If only you knew just what you had agreed to.

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dreamweaversofficial · 3 years

Text

Year One, Chapter One

Lyric didn’t blow up the kitchen.

This would be because it would be extremely irresponsible of the foster care workers to let her have anything capable of blowing up a kitchen, even if she wanted to, which of course she didn’t. Why on earth would she want to damage something so integral to the care building? Did they think she would rebel against the excellent way they were treating her?

They let her off with a warning. This would have warmed her heart, except she didn’t blow up the kitchen.

“What, it just blew up by itself?” Maria snaps, yanking her down the hallway. Lyric follows obediently behind. “Honestly, Lyric, this sort of thing has to stop.”

“I’ve never not blown up the kitchen before,” Lyric points out reasonably.

Maria gives her a Look, which is completely uncalled for. “No, but what happened to the dining hall?”

“I was nowhere near those tables.” Lyric reminds her, stabbing an accusing finger at Ryan. He jolts, ducking behind the door, and almost certainly resumes eavesdropping immediately. “He can tell you.”

“And the library?”

A few strands of Lyric’s hair are caught in Maria’s grip, pinned to her arm, and she winces. “Do you really think a twelve year old is strong enough to knock over a bookshelf?”

“Enough,” Maria says suddenly, voice tired but full of vitriol. “These incidents line up, Lyric, no matter how many times you somehow prove you aren’t at fault. It’s disappointing.”

Lyric swallows and shuts up. Her mind turns the word over, flips it, scrutinizes it from all angles, but it’s no use. It still stings.

Sighing, Maria ushers her into her room. It’s sparse, like all the rooms are, but with one noticeable difference: no roommate. Solitary confinement for children, Lyric thinks grimly. The door clicks closed behind her.

And she still hasn’t blown up the kitchen.

If she’d really done it, she thinks with vicious intent, she’d have - have -

With a groan, she throws herself back onto the sheets. Her fists crumple them, fabric scratchy under her fingers, then slacken.

“Lyric Akari does not strike first.” she announces aloud, mouth forming the familiar syllables of her name like she’s repeating a prayer. She stares into the mirror - her room’s one luxury of sorts - and sees herself reflected back, all olive skin and trailing hair over her back.

There’s a shuffling outside her door, and another girl slips through.

“Aw,” she simpers, “but how do you know that’s really your last name?” Lyric eyes her, nose wrinkling, and turns her face away. Abby seems to take this as an invitation, stepping closer.

“I heard,” she needles, eyeing her surroundings as if inspecting the room, “you did something bad again.”

“Update your vocabulary if you’re going to insult me.” Lyric retorts.

“I’d never go so far for a hobby,” Abby hums instead, lacing her fingers together. The picture of perfect innocence. Sometimes, Lyric wishes she really were capable of doing half the things she’s accused of.

“Is that what you call tormenting me,” Lyric grumbles, debating how effective throwing her blankets over her face would be. Probably not very. “You should prioritize other things - like actually figuring out how to actually keep a foster family.”

Abby’s pale face flushes pink, matching the ribbons in her long black hair, and she swivels to the door. Lyric relaxes premediatavely. A mistake, she realizes as the other girl pauses in the doorway.

“At least I can get one in the first place,” she says delicately, then closes the door softly behind her.

She relies on her looks, Lyric knows. A flick of her hair, a few well placed compliments, and she’s out. Sometimes Lyric wishes she could change her appearance - brown hair was hardly uncommon, and the green eyes - but Abby always comes back. It’s pointless to wish.

“Ugh,” Lyric says, with feeling, and pulls the blankets over her head so hard her feet are uncovered.

When she wakes up from her ill-timed nap, it’s to knocking on her door. That alone is strange - there’s no semblance of privacy in the care system, let alone an attempt to preserve it. Savoring the strange feeling, she calls “Come in!”

“There’s - someone here to see you,” Maria grits out, and Lyric’s shoulders slacken.

Breathless, she nods, and Maria leads her into the visitation room as if each step pains her. A man in his thirties, brown hair and olive skin to match hers, sits on the best couch. For a heartstopping moment, Lyric wonders if they could be related.

That’s ridiculous, she reminds herself. Just because they share two common features doesn’t mean they’re related.

Then he looks up, and the hopes are crushed for good.

He has purple eyes, what Lyric’s wished and longed for since she could understand what that meant. Power, family, magic - all off limits due to a few genes that subjected her to a different eye color.

“Miss Akari.” he says, definitive. “I am Professor Magnus.”

“From Mentality?” Lyric asks, voice tentative, even though she already knows the answer. She’s done the reading. What other magic school is there?

The professor inclines his head. “I hear you’ve been… inciting.”

“I really didn’t blow up that kitchen,” Lyric whispers, fingers worming their way into her pockets. “I couldn’t have.”

“Mm.” Professor Magnus takes a step closer. “Green eyes.”

Lyric almost cracks a joke about how he’s not one to mince words, but her heart is so far into her throat that she’s afraid it would fall out. She nods her head.

“Unusual.” He turns to rustle in his bag, and Lyric presses her lips tight together. Unusual. The whole problem is that she’s normal - hideously, irritatingly normal. The word picks at her skin like removing imbedded gravel. Professor Magnus finally surfaces with a stick of white rock and extends it to her.

She takes it, clutching it in her fist. It’s a smooth roughness, shimmering grey lines struck through, and she rubs her thumb along the rectangle’s end. It feels like - what she feels when she thinks about her parents, something she had and then lost. Drifting in her memory, inaccessible.

“I think I’ve dreamed about this,” she croaks out at last. Is this a test? Is she going to be kicked out of care for something she -

“Yes, I think you have.” Professor Magnus watches her for a beat, two, three, then turns swiftly to Maria. “I will be taking her to Mentality. She will learn there until she is eighteen, provided she doesn’t get kicked out before that time.”

“What?” Maria demands, but he’s already turning back to Lyric.

“Pack your things. Do not expect to be back.” With that, he takes the rock back and busies himself with his bag again.

Her breathing catches. “I - don’t understand.”

“Miss Akari,” Professor Magnus recites, as if he’s said this spiel before and will again, “you are in possession of enough magic to train at Mentality school of Magic. Please pack your things.”

“I don’t have anything I want to take,” Lyric admits.

He opens the door, strange robes blowing in the wind. “Excellent. Follow me.”

With a last look at Maria, who looks both angry and confused, Lyric ducks out the door.

The courtyard is filled with the last vestiges of summer warmth melting into autumn, green leaves blowing in a dry breeze. Professor Magnus draws her to him by one arm, gently guiding her toward a waiting car. It’s small, impersonal, a clean black vehicle perfect for blending in.

Lyric pulls a face. “Do you have any papers?”

The professor pulls an envelope from his sleeve as if prompted.

“... thanks.”

Lyric Akari, it reads, you have been accepted to…

“That’ll do,” Lyric declares, and gets into the car. Take me away from here, she doesn’t say. I’m magic, she doesn’t say. Gabriel’s tooth, she doesn’t say, because she’s pretty sure swearing would be frowned upon.

Instead, she runs her thumb over the paper until it shines.

The ride passes in a blink (“Magic?” “You were enjoying yourself.” “Well, dang.”). Lyric fidgets in the backseat, passing the envelope from hand to hand. Up front, the professor glances into the rearview mirror, making eye contact for a brief second.

“We’re here.”

Lyric spins to the other window, unbuckling herself frantically and wedging herself along the door. Mentality rises before her. Thank god he’s really not a crazy person, Lyric breathes.

“Follow me,” Professor Magnus instructs her, then slides out of the car and into the school. Lyric throws herself out the car door pell-mell and bolts after him, slowing to an interested skip once they’re walking side by side. The hallways are empty but for a few teachers scurrying back and forth.

He notes her questioning look. “The school year starts tomorrow.”

“But I don’t have any supplies!” Lyric blurts, stricken.

Professor Magnus shakes his head. “The Headmaster will sort you out.”

Not ‘that’. ‘You’. That’s not intimidating at all. She flicks her fingers a few times to remove nervous energy, then rebounds in her skipping. This way, she’s faster without actually running. A few curious looks are aimed at the green eyed girl speeding through the halls of a magic school, but they’re quickly waved aside at the presence of Professor Magnus.

They come upon the administration’s office quicker than Lyric would like, stopping in front of a simple second floor door marked ‘Headmaster’.

“Do they have a name?” Lyric whispers out of the corner of her mouth.

As if considering, the professor halts with his hand on the doorknob. “She is to be addressed as Headmaster.” With that, he swings the door open and whisks inside. At a loss, Lyric follows.

“Magnus!” the Headmaster booms, rising from her seat. “And Lyric - excellent, so my little hunch was right.”

“Alix won’t be terribly pleased about that,” Professor Magnus confides, casting an appraising look at Lyric.

Lyric’s shoulders sink with the knowledge that someone already dislikes her. As if noticing this, the Headmaster laughs. “He just owes me detention duty for a month.”

“As for room placements,” Professor Magnus continues, “I was thinking Garen, in Four B.”

The woman nods. “Get her the first year textbooks, and anything else she’ll need. He’s a good lad, he’ll take it from there.”

“I have a roommate?” Lyric asks, head spinning. “I don’t know. I’m kind of -”

“Volatile?” Headmaster interrupts kindly. “I think you’ll have an easier time of it around other magic users.”

Lyric gulps and presses her lips together. Professor Magnus, with a last clasp of her shoulder, breezes out of the room. Headmaster claps her hands. “Now. He’ll take anything you’re going to need to your room later - would you like to get settled in?”

Lyric gives a shaky assenting nod, which seems to be permission for the Headmaster to subject her to a tour. “You’re going to have the same schedule as your dorm mate, so he can explain most of this to you. We had an in depth tour for the others a few weeks ago, but it’ll be everyone’s first day.”

They stop in front of a large room with a clear floor, displaying a view of the greenery underneath. Seemingly infinite stacks of bookcases rise to the ceiling, and huge ladders drift back and forth on their own, floating books meandering to their proper shelves. A woman twitches her fingers, and a book that was attempting to lodge a section labeled Magical Creatures shifts to Defense Spells.

“Nice try,” she mutters.

“This is our librarian,” the Headmaster tells Lyric. “If she wasn’t here to control the books, they’d probably escape and start biting people.”

Lyric pales, and she laughs again. “Don’t worry! They’ve never done that.”

“Yet.” the librarian says, smiling at Lyric. She slips her a book titled History of Mentality, and Lyric is quietly grateful as the Headmaster steers her away.

“The dorms are on the first floor,” she continues. “You’ll be with the other first years, and you’ll stay with them until third year, when you choose your track.”

They halt in front of a door, and Headmaster motions for Lyric to set her hand on the wood surface. Upon further inspection, a gold four glows above the doorknob. She turns the handle and peeks inside.

“Now it’ll unlock for you without a key,” the Headmaster dictates. “Your room, too.”

The space opens to a room with a couch and table, swirls of black and gold on grey walls. A hammock hangs from the ceiling, and there’s a bookcase along the walls on either side of the door. Three other doors are labelled Bathroom, Garen and (the label appearing as she watches) Lyric.

“The others will arrive tomorrow,” Headmaster hums cheerfully. “Professor Magnus should be along to bring you dinner and your supplies later - perhaps you’d like to check out your room?”

Taking this as a dismissal, Lyric whispers a ‘thank you’ and darts into the room labeled with her name.

“Ah - Lyric!”

She pokes her head out the door.

The Headmaster holds out a uniform that she certainly wasn’t holding a moment before. “This should be your size.”

“Thanks,” Lyric repeats, small smile crossing her face as she takes it. Headmaster gives her an amiable nod as she leaves the room.

A uniform, she thinks. Something permanent tying her to this place - like the label on her room, or the way her dorm is charmed to unlock at her touch. Something she was never given before.

She’s staying here, no matter what she has to do to ensure it.

#Dreamweavers #dreamweavers official #year one #year one chapter one #fantasy #original story #lgbtq+#my writing

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haileybwilliams-blog-blog · 3 years

Text

April 9, 2021

Jonas,

I laugh to myself when first opening your letter email because it feels like somehow we've unintentionally joined a 7,371 mile-away book club. I ordered When Things Fall Apart shortly after you told me about it and dove in a few weeks ago. This concept of hope precedes me and I'm curious how this idea and your thoughts on it continue to take form. I'm also curious what your days look like, the kinds of people you've met and the different perspectives you've probably been building and rebuilding since you left. That being said, I can't wait to hear more about the tidbits when you have the time and space to share them.

As for this hope debacle, my initial reaction is to agree. Yes, hoping for one's self alludes to their own unsatiated place of discontent in where they reside... but it makes me wonder if hope (or even a wish) for another could be a different debacle all together. It makes me wonder if this wish would instead hold positivity and ambition for someone else. Maybe hoping for another makes sense because you don't know the inner workings of their current state of mind so holding a space of hope for someone else, even if it's only a wish that their current state is present and well, could be inherently good. Pema Chodron doesn't talk about that (or maybe she does and I haven't gotten there yet), but I'm curious as to what her stance on having hope for someone else would be.

I keep seeing these gosh dang red cardinals. And when I say keep seeing I mean KEEP SEEING. You won't believe this but as I'm sitting in my bed writing this, feeling the warmth of the sun as it starts to sprinkle light onto the trees outside my window, a small, chirpy guy has landed right within my line of sight. I just laugh to myself again because at this point that's the only reaction that will suffice. Could it be that there's just a fuckton of cardinals around at the beginning of spring? Absolutely. But hey, this is my world to interpret.

A few weeks ago, but more specifically a week before the dress-like-a-dad birthday barbecue, I found myself continually reaching for meaning in these cardinals. Which reminds me of the Tibetan word re-dok, a combination of the words meaning hope and fear. Chodron writes "In the world of hope and fear, we always have to change the channel, change the temperature, change the music, because something is getting uneasy, something is getting restless, something is beginning to hurt, and we keep looking for alternatives." And I realized... this searching, or hoping rather, to find meaning in one of these little red encounters all came down to restlessness. It all came down to a combination of hope for better and fear of not enough that led me to search for alternatives in the life I was living. It sent me on a mental quest for some kind of reason to make a call that I already knew my intuitive self wanted to make. I'll spare the details, but in short – I ended things with Alec. I'm not sure if I'd shared this previously but we were on that whole official, 7th-gradeesque boyfriend/girlfriend terms thing. Oof. There were cardinals left and right (one landed at my dang feet as I walked down 36th street one day I almost squeeshed the little bugger!). All the while there might not be meaning to any of it. But I think the curiosity for it, the drawing in, the reflection, the time spent pondering and all that comes with it is what makes it worth the time. In the end, all that humbo jumbo of signs and interpreting them aside, it was just me asking for my intuition to come forward. Even as I'm writing this though, I'm starting to see that hearing my intuition isn't the hardest part anymore. It's actually listening and choosing to act from it.

Since then it feels like the flood gates have opened. Or maybe they've only begun to crack at the edges, spilling water over the sides of the walls my conditioning has built around me. I guess I'll never be able to gauge the amount that feels to be transforming at the time because there always seems to be more to uncover. Either way, it looks like your birthday wish made its way here. Maybe it attached to your email and traveled through however the heck emails travel through the emailverse, but that's exactly how I spent my day – just allowing for what is. Being that it was Easter, the world around me seemed both happy and quiet all at once as folks spent time with their families and it seemed like the outside world melted away for a bit. I intentionally spent the majority of my day alone, but not lonely (because we all know those are two different concepts), walked to a park to read at sunset, then cooked my first fun meal in ages, all sparking what feels like the beginning of an internal forest fire. As simple as this day was, I hope it was an indicator of how 26 looks. I'm questioning everything these days, engulfed in a state of bringing forth new ways and letting go of old. It's exhausting or ye tang che to strip oneself of bits of an identity that my defensive parts have clung so longingly to. But it's also exciting. My yoga instructor recently said "Fear is excitement without the breath." And so I've decided to step into this next unknown chapter with excitement while gently reminding myself to breathe. I laugh in the face of danger mwahahaHA (an image of little Simba in lion king that I seldom forget).

I've laughed a lot writing this. Not in the "haha" way but in a way that feels funny in it's own right (and not only because of all the run-on sentences). Chodron has me thinking a lot about words and their definitions (because let's be honest, the English vocabulary isn't very creative) which has me thinking a lot about inventing new words. I'm searching for a word that means "to laugh at something with appreciation for materializing in spot-on alignment" This is how I laughed when I opened up Ashley's book of knots, rope dangling in hand and eager to somehow soak up the pages and regurgitate their forms with a quick over-under maneuver. In conclusion - knots are freakin hard. But I'm knot gonna stop trying (ey ey, you know the drill). Thank you for my birthday wish and thank you for my books and rope kit, I (insert new word here) at their timing and intention. You just wait, ya hear – I'm gonna be king-of-tying-knots, you-want-your-knots-tied-you-go-to-him good by the time you get back.

P.s. I attached the meditation (along with a photo of Mooji's happy lil caterpillar face) that I listened to this morning when I woke up. I'm not sure what kind of audio you have access to or if this clip will even load but heck I thought I'd give it a shot to sharing. In this mediation, Mooji talks about starting your day at 0 before you start "counting' or "bringing in the thoughts and places and others of the world. First, be with yourself and who you are before the rest rushes in." I realized that this is why I've enjoyed the mornings more than the nights these days, soaking up every ounce of the time I have before the rest of the world rushes and bringing with it waves of unknown (there's a sailing pun out there for everything isn't there?).

Sending you hugs often. I know that all of us Tom Hanks folks back home are sending our love in addition to the cheery "You've Got Mail" dings accompanied by words of support for your journey. They might get to you faster if only you were running the old bookshop across the street. Speaking of streets, if you somehow get an address let us know.

Love,

Hailey B.

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wolvesofinnistrad · 4 years

Text

Buck signs up for a YouTube video where he judges people's kissing skills while blindfolded. He has no idea who the contestsants are, and they have no idea who they're kissing until they arrive.

Read on Ao3

Buck is standing, blindfolded on a set, waiting for the rest of the participants to come in.

“So, can you tell us your name and also if you don’t mind, your sexual orientation?”

Buck smirks, grin blinding as he mugs for the camera.

“Evan ‘Buck’ Buckley. And I’m straight.”

“Alright, and you know what you’re doing today?”

“I’m gonna be kissing some random people right?” Buck gives the camera another cocky grin, like if you could see his eyes he’d be winking.

“That’s right. The competitors are coming in now and-”

Buck tilts his head a bit, noticing the cameraman’s voice trailing off followed by hushed whispers.

“Really, 2? That’s a first.”

“2 what?” Buck’s turning his head, as if he could see the people, not sure what’s going on.

“Well it seems, and this is completely random, but two of the five people know you.”

“I was a bit of a slut back in the day so that doesn’t even surprise me.” Buck laughs, high and bright and there’s a chorus of laughter and shrieks from his left which he figures are the competitors. “As long as it’s not my sister I think I’ll be good. Just don’t feel bad if I don’t remember you, these lips have been around the block.”

Buck makes a pouty face to show off his lips to more laughter from everyone on set.

As they continue setting up Eddie stands there, wishing he hadn’t agreed to this today. He had no idea Buck was going to end up being in this video. Of course when he’d heard about the casting had been the same day they had taken Christopher to the mall, so he guesses maybe Buck had seen the same flier.

It seems like Buck isn’t at all nervous though so Eddie tries to push down his fears. He signed up for two of these today, and while he was a bit curious how it was going to be kissing a guy for the first time, he never suspected it’d be Buck. Of course Buck clearly thought it was one of his ex’s or casual hookups that was who knew him, not Eddie.

“Okay, we have everyone lined up, they’ll get two tries, but after the first time we’ll switch up the order to make it fair.”

“Alright, let’s get this going!”

The first girl is the one that said she knows Buck, and she kisses him with a ton of passion, making out with him and sticking a second over the time limit.

A smirk plays on Buck’s lips as she steps away. “She’s a great kisser. I’ll give that an 8, because it was really good, but I think there’s always room for improvement.”

Eddie chuckles as quietly as he can as the girl heads to the back of the line, clearly upset she didn’t get higher marks.

Next up is a dude, and Eddie wonders how Buck is going to react. He knew Buck was straight, the man had just confirmed it, but he didn’t seem nervous about kissing a man so he guessed Buck was just really comfortable.

The man kisses Buck, he’s very tentative at first, but starts gaining a bit of traction just as the timer goes off.

Buck turns a bit towards the camera, still smiling.

“Well, that was definitely a dude. Not bad, but yeah, I’m still definitely straight. I’ll give that a… 3, 3 and a half.”

The guy rolls his eyes and Eddie grimaces. He’s not sure what he’s going to do, there’s only one more person in front of him and his nerves are starting to really take over. A smile is plastered on his face, but it’s shaky as he tries to get the courage to do this.

Of course one thing that helps is hearing the girl ahead of him get a 6. His competitive streak starts to flare to life and he pushes the thought that this is Buck further back in his mind and just thinks about how to kiss and what he can do to at least beat the other guy’s score.

Rolling his shoulders as Buck signals for the next guy he steps forward, and when they tell him to go he grips Buck by the waist, dragging him in to a deep kiss. Their lips meet, sucking on the bottom one, his hands still holding Buck’s hips tight and he can feel the air coming out of Buck in a shudder as they pull apart.

Eddie touches his fingers to his lips as he walks back, not realizing Buck’s doing the same thing.

“Wow that was...” Buck breathes deep, shaking his head. “Ok, maybe I’m not so straight because that was definitely a dude, felt that stubble man,” they all laugh, “but that was really good. Love the confidence, just grabbing me and drawing me into it. I really dig that contact and no fear to just dive in. I gotta give that one an 8 too. Shit, can’t believe that.”

The first girl, who also knows Buck, turns to Eddie and gives him a dirty look before quickly smiling at the camera once more. Eddie holds in his laughter, feeling his own cheeks get warm at the thought that Buck of all people, self professed sex addict and horn dog, ranked him at a tie for first.

The last girl takes her shot, being a bit more aggressive, hiking one of her hips up against Buck and Eddie cringes a bit.

Afterwards Buck turns to the camera again, taking some questions. “That was… Intense, but a little sloppy. I think I’m gonna have to give it a 5. Sorry girl.”

The girl just laughs, clearly having fun with this more than anything.

They all get set up again, rearranged with the guy at front, followed by desperate girl, then Buck’s hookup, the very middle girl and finally Eddie at the end.

“So, Buck do you have any tips for the kissers before the second and final round? How to score big with you?”

There’s a bit of swagger to Buck as he turns from the camera talking directly to them.

“Listen up girls, you’ve gotta knock it out of the park, cuz one of these guys is really doing his best to turn me and, not gonna lie, he might just get me to apply for a transfer if you don’t step up your game.”

The entire set erupts in laughs, Eddie feeling a blush redden his cheeks again as he drags a hand down his face. Clearly Buck is joking, but it does make something weird in Eddie’s stomach flutter and he tries to just ignore it.

It’s just because he wants to win.

“Anyway, be confident, touch me if you want, trust me you can do whatever you want I won’t bite. Unless you like that,” he must be winking because he does something then says “fuck. You can’t see that. Imagine me winking right now. But yeah, confidence, touch, you can be a bit aggressive if you like, don’t be shy. Just not sloppy. Technique is important.”

“Alright then, we’re going to start round two.”

The first guy goes once more, this time he grabs Buck’s shirt, hands fisted in the fabric as he presses deeper into the kiss.

He still only gets a 4 for his efforts.

“Sorry man. It was better but you’re just not doing it for me. And I can’t even give you the excuse it’s because you’re a dude anymore cuz that other guy was really fucking good so.”

That makes Eddie smile and shake his head, trying to hide how much Buck’s words are affecting him. It’s not like he’s attracted to Buck or anything. Even if that kiss was really, really good for him too. Eddie tries to chase that thought away though, right now he just wants to concentrate on winning this silly little contest. He can rib Buck about this for so long back at the station once he does.

Of course that means they’ll also know Eddie made out with Buck, but he guesses that’s somehow less mortifying than if Buck actually picks Eddie as the winner.

He really hopes he does.

Desperate girl fully jumps in Buck’s arms this time, hips around his waist and he nearly drops her before the timer goes off and she jumps down.

“Love the confidence once again, but still a bit messy. And not like, fun messy. But I’ll give you a 6 for effort.”

It’s Buck’s former hook ups turn and she confidently struts towards him, placing one of his hands on her ass as she kisses Buck with gusto. She clearly slips him some tongue which he meets with eager enthusiasm, and if the sounds of her moan are anything she’s enjoying it as much as Buck if not more.

“Fuck, okay she didn’t come to play!”

There’s some wolf whistles from the crew and Eddie suddenly feels a surge of something he can’t quite understand bubble up in him. He takes it as desire to win, to beat the girl that’s staring at him with a smug look as she walks to the back of the line, one finger tracing over her smeared lipstick and wiping it clean.

“That’s a solid, solid 9 girl. Like Dang!”

There’s one girl between Eddie but he just wants to shove her out of the way so he can get his shot at Buck’s lips.

Those gorgeous lips he plans to kiss off his best friend so he can win.

That’s totally the only reason he’s going to make sure this is the best kiss he’s ever given.

The final girl goes, and Buck seems into it, humming along as she scratches down his back with her nails, if the sound is anything to go by. Everyone seems to be revving up in this final round and Eddie only feels the urge to do better grow stronger.

“Alright, okay I see you girl. 7 and a half. A strong 7 and a half though, to be sure.”

“Last one!”

“Oh, y’all saved the dude trying to turn me for last huh? Listen buddy, give it all you’ve got. I don’t think you can beat the girls this round, the shock from the fir-”

Eddie doesn’t listen to another word he says, signaling them he’s going without waiting for Buck to finish. His hands slide up the man’s shoulders and neck before cupping both sides of his face. He kisses him slow, then deep, then faster, letting it grow, even if he doesn’t have the time to let it simmer like he wishes. His tongue slips out, teasing at the entrance of Buck’s lips, and when he lets one hand drop to grab Buck’s ass, groping the firm muscle he hears him gasp. That gives Eddie an opening, sliding his tongue in beside Buck’s, caressing it the same way his thumb is rubbing circles against the smoothness of Buck’s cheek.

When the timer goes off, way too soon Eddie feels like when he was just getting into that kiss, he pulls back and can’t help but grin as Buck’s lips follow after him a bit, body tilting forward trying to find him again.

“So, what’s your score Buck?”

Buck seems out of breath, panting and standing there without saying anything for long moments. Finally when he speaks he seems to have a confused expression on his face, even seeing just his mouth.

“I… Just, wow. Like, holy fucking shit that was a KISS! Damn dude! You are making me think I might be bi, what the fuck!” Buck laughs afterwards, trying to make it out as a joke, but Eddie knows him well enough to notice the stutters in it, the way his lips curl up at the ends when he’s telling a truth he’d rather not admit to.

“So score Buck? What’s the final verdict.”

“Shit. Fuck, uh,” Buck contemplates for a moment, and this is the big decision, whether Eddie or his ex wins. Not that Buck knows that yet. “It’s gotta be, shit, it’s gotta be a 9. A strong 9. Really strong.”

Eddie can’t help the way he feels when he hears that. His cheeks are definitely red and you couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He’s biting his lip, feeling how his mouth tastes of Buck, and it’s such a strange concept, but he finds it’s also nice.

Maybe nicer than he ever thought it could be.

“Buck, that mean’s the top two both received an 8 in round one, and a 9 in round 2”

“Oh shit, a tie?”

“So Buck, before we reveal the winner, I think you should know that your top two just so happen to both be the people you know.”

Buck laughs, nodding his head. “That makes sense considering they know me b-” He pauses, turning from the final two and then back towards the camera. “Wait, but the top has a guy in it. The guy knows me?”

“Yes, a guy and a girl are your top two, and both have said they know you already.”

Buck looks a bit nervous for a second, then he laughs. “Michael that better not be you, Athena will murder both of us if you’ve been making out with me.”

The girl looks at Eddie and he shakes his head. She scoffs at him, waiting for the producers to tell them what’s happening.

“Well Buck, you’re right that there is a tie. So that means we have to have a final round. One last kiss between both of them to tell who is the best kisser of the bunch.”

“OK. OK.”

Eddie should feel weird about this, he’s about to kiss his best friend for the third time, and Buck doesn’t even know it’s him. This could ruin their friendship, but Eddie feels like he can’t back out. He wants to win.

Or, more accurately, he wants to kiss Buck again.

He’d tried to tell himself that wasn’t it, but he was usually pretty honest with himself, a few minutes of denial was enough to tell himself that it felt really, really good kissing Buck. That combined with their history and well, Eddie wasn’t sure if ruining their friendship might be worth it to feel this again.

Besides, he could always write it off as just a weird, funny incident between good friends later.

Not that he’d want to, but he could.

“Alright, final round, tiebreaker! Let’s go! Last chance to impress Buck!”

Buck smiles as he looks at them, not that he can see, but he’s anticipating it. These have been some absolutely amazing kisses and after a bit of a dry spell he’s had with all the trauma in his life lately it feels good to do something fun and sexy.

A little part of his brain is really going overdrive trying to think of what guy might be kissing the living daylights out of him, but he doesn’t have a lot of time to think because the last round is starting and the girl is on him once more.

He knows its her because her hands are soft and delicate, nothing like the rough, callused hand that held his face before, that groped his ass and left him panting for more. Nothing like the stubbled chin that scratched at his face in just the right way, so new and different in a way he didn’t even know he liked.

The kiss is over before he really even realizes it’s started, his lips barely kissing back as he was so focused on thinking about that last kiss from the guy. Buck’s never thought of guy’s like that, but he’s not opposed to the idea either. He thinks, idly, that maybe he should be a bit concerned by how easily he’s accepting this, but then again sex is sex, and he’s never had anything against Hen or Michael or anyone else that liked the same sex, it just didn’t seem like it was something for him.

Until this fucking guy was stealing his breath with each kiss.

He hears a question being repeated and he realizes he’s supposed to be giving a score. “Um, 8, yeah, good. Really good.” He stumbles through the words, probably more generous than he needed to be since he didn’t even register the kiss, but he’s got to give the last lingering threads of his heterosexuality at least a chance here.

“I’m ready.” He says it with more confidence than he really has, and then there’s a hand in his hair, carding it at first, before strong hands are tugging at it as the man kisses him. It’s so good, warm and hard and hot in all the best ways.

Then the guy starts using the hand in his hair to pull him back and suddenly he’s being dipped, the sound of shock giving the man the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth, making Buck moan and dart his own tongue into his mouth.

The kiss just keeps deepening, and he has to admit the way the guy’s manhandling him is really getting him off.

In fact, he’s pretty sure that not only is he at half mast against the other guy’s thigh, but he thinks he can feel the other’s bulge pressing against his leg as well.

Why is that so fucking hot?

He doesn't get an answer though as the guy bites on his lip, tugging on it and Buck whimpers, fucking whimpers, hands’ coming up to grip strong biceps and wow he’s fallen into bisexuality so fast his head’s spinning.

Or maybe it’s just the kiss making his head spin.

Either way he’s suddenly wrenched up, can feel a bead of spittle connecting their lips before breaking and falling over his chin as the guy pulls away. He hates the loss of contact, his hand almost reaches out for the man again because it was so good he wants another taste before he remembers he’s being recorded.

And this is a guy he knows, and he’s not even sure who it could be.

“So, final score Buck?”

Buck doesn’t even think before answering.

“10. Fucking, 20, fuck, a hundred. Fucking shit, best kiss of my life!”

He hears a laugh, and his stomach twists because that feels way too familiar for his comfort. He’s sure he knows that laugh.

“Alright then, Buck take off your blindfold and see who won.”

He hears the girl’s heels clacking as she storms off, but he doesn’t care. His fingers are trembling as he starts to remove the blindfold, blinking his eyes to adjust to the light.

And then his eyes settle on Eddie, who looks just as blissed out as Buck feels, lips kiss swollen and red, matching the blush in his friend’s cheeks.

“Eddie?!”

“Evan...”

Eddie’s voice sounds choked off and so fucking soft. Buck doesn’t even care that it could ruin everything, all he wants is to capture those lips, feel them against his skin once more. He watches his eyes, seeing how Eddies keep dropping to Buck’s lips and he almost growls low in his throat.

“uh, well, if you’d like to do one last kiss in slow-mo then we’ll be done!”

He doesn’t wait to be told twice or for anyone to get things set up, he just marches towards Eddie and grabs him, one hand behind his head before crashing their lips together.

there’s a stuttered gasp he feels across his lips from Eddie and he licks into the man’s mouth, finally able to be the aggressor in the kiss like he’d wanted, finding that they easily flow back and forth. It’s a few moments later, when he feels Eddie’s hand reaching under his shirt, splayed wide across his abdominals and his own hand just about to rub over Eddie’s bulge when a loud cough and a cry of “Cut!” breaks them apart.

Reluctantly.

“Fuck...”

“Yeah...” Eddie breathes, pupils so dilated Buck can only see black when he stares into them.

“Well that was, great! Thanks for everything guys!”

“uh huh.” “Yeah” they both say dismissively towards the production assistant.

“Wanna go-”

“Yes!” Buck doesn’t let Eddie even finish before he’s grabbing Eddie’s hand and leading him out of the building.

If they end up making out in Eddie’s truck, cumming in their pants like fucking teenagers no one else has to know.

They decide to wait until the video is posted to tell the fire house, watching the video with them all and soaking in the shocked expressions on everyone’s faces as things ramp up higher and higher.

When the video ends everyone stares at Eddie and Buck who have been inconspicuously grinning the entire time watching everyone else’s reactions before busting out laughing. They’re holding hands and when everyone notices there’s a chorus of shouting and applause and demands to know when they got together.

“You already got to see our first three kisses, that’s as much as you get to know,” Eddie says, and he grabs Buck and turns his mouth towards him, kissing him gently to more cheers.

#evan buck buckley #buck buckley #eddie diaz #9-1-1 fox #buddie #eddie x buck #mine #fanfic #my fic

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abzanascendancy · 5 years

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In Today’s* Magic Story...

*And by “Today’s Magic Story,” I mean the novella they released and I’m still going through.

Children of the Nameless Chapters 7 & 8

Don’t get dehydrated, kids. Keep up with your water, especially when it’s too cold to sleep without a robe on but if you sleep with a robe on you dehydrate faster. At least in my case. But seriously, drink water. Put a little lemon juice in it, it does wonders for the tastelessness.

Anyways, lack of sleep aside, more of Brandon Sanderson’s glorious novella!

Previously, on Children of the Nameless...

Talking Heads perform at local manor. Peaceful ghost then tries to strangle innocent man.

Tacenda threatenes sleepless nights if Man of the Manor doesn’t do his job. Davriel is shook.

Brerig is precious cinnamon bun demon too good for this world.

Bog’s mysteries grow. The gang have yet to find a lead in this mystery...

Chapter Seven: Tacenda

Once again I need to stress how difficult it is to get back to get back to my spot when the pdf doesn’t have any bookmarks for the chapters. Like I won’t pretend to know how a pdf works, but come on!

Good point, Tacenda wouldn’t have seen this... well, she would’ve only been here during the daytime, when she was blind. She was needed to ward things in the village at night. Thus, she only knows the sounds of the chapel.

I’m sure there must’ve been at least one enterprising individual who infiltrated the church to get bodies on their way to the priory. If the church is rife with cultists, be it demons or Emrakul, it couldn’t be that hard.

Side note, what if the prioress is preventing the Blessed Sleep by forcing the ghosts to haunt villages until Davriel is destroyed...?

Ah right, this is after SOI, so Avacyn would go out of favor. Now it’s Sigarda. Unless they found evidence of the fourth sister...

Aha, there it is! The Nameless Angel! Tell us what her symbol is you cowards!

Each family consists of six people? Dang, Tacenda’s singing must be really good if the villagers were able to keep that many children alive.

Aha, good ol’ Ashwin! Drawing a picture of his attacker as he was dying! Now that is devotion! And they appear to be similar to what happened at Davriel’s manor. Interesting...

So the church did hold them back for a time...

It was -- *checks cards* -- The Bog! In the Village! With ghosts!

Okay, Miss Highwater. It could be vampires. Or -- and hear me out on this one -- someone from the church could’ve just as easily turned traitor? Why’s your first instinct vampires?

Is he really sleeping, or is this just wishful thinking on Tacenda’s part?

Called it! Stab wounds! Treachery!

So the Bog and someone in the church are in cahoots? But why would the Bog turn on its worship-- oh right, Emrakul’s here now...

Davriel is a Blue Mage, confirmed. And not just color-alignment, I mean like a Final Fantasy blue mage, learning others’ spells.

He stood up suddenly, holding something aloft. “What?” Tacenda asked. “A clue?” “Better,” he said, turning around the small jar. “The priestess was hoarding some dustwillow tea.”

Davriel of the Straightened-Out Priorities

Haha, the demons are hiding in a church from demon hunters. What a lovely bit of irony...

Chapter Eight: Tacenda

Booooo! You had a nice rhythm going with the alternating chapters! Give us more Davriel!

“I’ve never been on this side of a church assault before.” -- Miss Highwater

Aha! The prioress! She’s behind all of this!

A pyromancer! Sadly, It’s probably not Jaya Ballard...

Well there’s the new church symbol: A Heron’s Head. Makes sense. But the heron in the moon is now obfuscated by the Gatewatch symbol, so...?

So... wait. Davriel can’t use the freezing spell again? Can he only use a spell he stole once? Is there a cooldown??? How does it even work!?

Tacenda truly is too precious in this situation. You keep doing you.

Davriel-ex-Machina! Spell-snatching at its finest!

I mean a bent spoon is still useful as a musical instrument...

Intrigue! Specifically warded to block Davriel!

Hang on, a church diabolist? Beautiful oxymoron aside, I guess it does make sense. Gotta know the enemy to fight ‘em.

3.5 pages folks, and only now does Tacenda get it into her head that singing might be a good idea.

Also, Davriel totally just read her mind right there.

“Do not ignore the demon that has the form of a comely woman! That is Voluptara, Feaster of Men!”

...

...seriously?

That’s the name you went with?

*sigh*

I think this is in the running for a Non Sequitur Award.

I’m pretty sure they mentioned the sword cane before, but it’s still awesome that Davriel has one, because of course he does.

Well at least they kept the tome of the church diabolist. Still not getting over that...

Mysteries abound! The Bog seems to be the obvious culprit, and yet the Church has a traitor in their midst! The Prioress is still about, pulling strings, with personal knoweldge of Davriel. The more answers we get, the more questions arise...

But! Why did Davriel choose to go by the name Greystone? Why did Brandon Sanderson choose that other name for Miss Highwater (I mean we know why he chose it but did he really have to go that far)? Will Tacenda be able to use her singing again with all these demons around? Does the Tome have knowledge of Ormendahl, Profane Prince?

And will Davriel find some goddamned tea???

Stay tuned!

#Awards #Non Sequitur #Children of the Nameless #Magic Story #Story #In Today's Magic Story #In Today's Magic Story...#Today's Magic Story #Today's Magic Story...#Innistrad #Davriel #Tacenda #Miss Highwater #Crunchgnar

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officialhexrpg · 6 years

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Arts & Graphics: June’s Writing Challenge Winner!

June's theme for the Arts & Graphics forum on HEXRPG was all about Ancient Egypt! In this challenge, artists had to write a report of their findings as a Curse-Breaker working in Egypt.

3rd Place: K8ekt

I had left Hogwarts as a Professor of Arithmancy six months previous. It wasn’t that I didn’t love my job there. The students were always fresh faced and willing to learn. It had been a pleasure to watch them develop and grow from children to confident young men and women. But I had always felt there was more to life. More I was capable of. Yes, being a professor had been rewarding but I felt destined for more. That’s why I had decided to change my career from teacher to evil spell breaker, and I was thriving. Information on the whereabouts of an ancient pharaoh’s treasure had been discovered back at Gringotts in Diagon Ally and the head Goblin had chosen me to investigate. I was a little nervous of course, as this was my first solo mission but I was also very excited. The head Goblin himself had chosen me, I must have impressed someone along the line somewhere. Now, here in Egypt, glancing around the tourist shop, I wondered just how I was going to get to the tomb of Mustava. Magical wards had been put around the pyramid to stop wizards and witches from apparating anywhere near it. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to get inside to even begin my search. Maybe the head Goblin had been wrong about my abilities. But then I noticed a poster above the counter which read: ‘West Valley Tomb tours leaving daily! Get your tickets here! Egyptian or British pounds accepted!’ I couldn’t believe my luck! This was the opportunity I’d been waiting for. I approached the shopkeeper and pointed to the poster. “Mustava’s Pyramid please?” I asked holding out a handful of coins. I was hoping that some of them were either English or Egyptian pounds as I had no idea. I was relieved when he nodded and took some of the currency then handed me a notepad with a list of names. I scribbled ‘Septima Vector’ under the ‘Mustava’ heading and left to find the bus station and my coach. The coach ride was long, hot and stuffy. The air conditioning didn’t work and opening a window barely helped. I wished I’d taken an anti-sickness potion before I had got on but I hadn’t had time, and the bus was so overcrowded I couldn’t risk opening my bag. All the muggles were suffocating, and it didn’t help with the sun’s heat burning through the windows. Finally we screeched to a stop as we reached our destination and I hurried to get off desperate for fresh air. It wasn’t much better outside. There was no cover and the hot rays were pounding down, bouncing off the fine sand which was everywhere. I really wanted to cast a cooling spell but I couldn’t get my wand out here. I needed to sneak away from the crowd of photo snapping tourists, but how? There was nothing to do but follow the crowd inside the pyramid. It was dark and had a fusty smell down were they were being shown. Muggles had added some basic lighting but the light was still dim. We were shown into a small room I realised was a tomb. The Pharaoh's mummy was laid in a large sarcophagus in the centre of the room, the walls were covered with Egyptian hieroglyphs and paintings of gods, crops and animals. There was an opening on the opposite side of the room leading into another passageway with security tape across it. It looked promising so I backed away from the crowd quietly, ducked under the tape and left the group behind. I didn’t get very far though until I reached a dead end. Dang, it was sealed off. Then something caught my eye. There was a section of drawings on the wall to my right that didn’t look like normal ancient Egyptian figures, they had pointy hats and held wands just like wizards. There was writing under the images I recognised to be ancient Greek. I frowned. Well, this was certainly unusual. It had to mean something. But what? A simple translation spell should help. “Aparecium.” I commanded and the writing moved and merged into a language I could understand. I could understand it alright but I was none the wiser. It was a brain teaser and I didn’t have a clue what it meant. ‘I’ve been around for millions of years, but I’m no more than a month old. What am I?’ “Come on, it’s your job to figure these things out!” I whispered to myself under my breath, looking around at all the images of wheat fields, gods, suns and moons… I paused. “Moon! That’s the answer!” There was a moon on the opposite wall to the rhyme. I raised my wand and touched the painted moon gently with the tip uttering ‘Alohomora’. The whole wall moved back, opening up in front of me. I smiled and slipped through. As the wall shut behind me I was encased in darkness, the room was pitch black, I couldn’t even see my hand in front of my face, so I quickly spoke the word ‘Lumos’ and the room was illuminated by the light of my wand. I gasped at the sight that met me. The room was full of treasures. Boxes made from solid gold and silver, filled with precious gemstones surrounded me. I had found it! I couldn’t believe how easy it had been. Wait… Why had it been so easy? I wondered to myself before the realisation hit me. I might have found the treasure but I needed to get out, and there wasn’t a way out. That’s when I saw the skeletons. Hunched up by the wall I had entered by were the bones of the crypt finders before me. The wands in their hands told me that they were wizards and witches, like me. Probably all evil spell breakers. Something was shining next to one of the bodies on the stone floor. It was a single shimmering gold feather. It looked familiar but I couldn’t quite place which bird it belonged to. I bent down to examine it more closely. As soon as I picked up the golden feather a high pitched shriek filled the room. Ah. Even though I had never heard the noise before I instantly knew what it was. My fear was realised when the bird swooped down over my head, so low the air moved strands of my hair. I knew I needed to silence the yellow Fwooper and soon, it’s twittering song had the power to make witches go insane. Pointing my wand in the direction of the deafening tune I shouted ‘Silencio’. I couldn’t hear my own words but the charm must have worked because the room suddenly became silent. Deathly silent. I could hear wings softly flapping but the maddening melody was gone. The Fwooper dived once more, this time dropping an object at my feet before settling on top of a silver broom by my side, her round eyes fixed on her gift. My attention moved from the bird to the box on the floor. I knew better than to touch it and instead retrieved my secrecy sensor from my pocket and aimed it at the item. Sure enough, the rod began to vibrate uncontrollably. As I suspected, the relic was blighted with evil. It appeared to be a board game, I had seen it in a book I had read in preparation for my trip here. It was called ‘Senet’, the full name meaning ‘game of passing’. “I wonder...” I said out loud then shrugged, I had nothing to lose. Sitting down opposite the Fwooper I aimed my wand at the game, using ‘Locomotor’ I moved the first piece on the board. The bird glided to the floor silently and moved another piece with her beak. We carried on like this, taking it in turns until it was my final move. Well, that was lucky, I thought with a sigh of relief, I had won the game! The counters began to dance in a circle, getting faster and faster until they turned to a blur, a beam of light shot out from the middle, shining across the room and onto the ceiling. An opening was appearing and dust fell from the newly revealed gap. moonlight flooded the room and I realised it must lead outside. I needed to get up there, but how? As if my new feathered friend knew what I was thinking, she flew back onto the silver broom and nudged my arm with her head. “Thank you.” I said, stroking her under the chin, mounted the broom then flew up, up through the hole and out of the pyramid into the cool night air, relieved the baking sun had set but surprised at how much time had passed since I had started my tour. A smile crept onto my lips as I realised my first solo mission had been a success.

#HEXRPG #f: ag #w: writing challenge #d: June 2018

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