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the-weirdos-mind · 3 years

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League of Villains X Teen! Reader: You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid

Songfic of the song with the same name by The Offspring. Here’s the reader’s quirk:

Quirk- Manipulation

Type- Emitter

How it works- Similar to Aizawa’s and Nighteye’s quirks you have to look someone in the eye to get them under control. They’re unaware that you’re controlling them but still aware of their senses. When you have someone under control you can do whatever you want with them until you either look away from that person (it doesn’t always have to be eye contact), blink, or release them. Whenever someone is under your spell, it’s like being trapped in a room with one-way glass. They are aware of what’s going on but, can’t get help.

Drawbacks- If you use the power for more than an hour you’ll get a headache. If you push yourself you’ll get a migraine. You can choose when to activate it and for how long but the time still adds to an hour no matter how many times you activate it in the day.

Trigger warnings: Blood and use of violence, if I’m missing anything then let me know so I can correct it

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Show me how to lie You're getting better all the time And turning all against the one Is an art that's hard to teach

You followed Giran down the hallway to an unknown place. You had the hood of you (F/C) on to hide your (H/L) (H/C) hair with your eyes on the ground. You watched as foot after foot in (F/C) shoes put pressure on the dirty ground. You mentally sighed as you reflect your life choices. You didn’t want to live this life but everyone around you saw your quirk as one thing; villainous. You got tired of the words and became what they wanted you be. You realized that heroes are worthless and they didn’t care that a young (boy/girl/person) was heading down a dark path. You glanced up to see the man opening the door. You immediately looked down and followed him in the room.

Side glancing at the room you noticed it was a bar. There was a purple cloud like man with yellow eyes in a suit and a metal brace around his neck. He was polishing a glass behind the bar. On a red stool was another man holding a glass of alcohol. He had his pinky raised away from the glass though and you silently raised an eyebrow. Is this because of his quirk or is he British? His shaggy blue hair was covering most of his face but when he turned to face the two, you saw a pale hand covering his face and his red eyes glaring at you. You glanced down at the floor. Not yet.

“You seriously brought a child?” He asked setting the glass cup down. “You do know that this is for mature adults? And (she/he/they) can’t stare at me in the eyes? How rude.” His voice was raspy and you concluded he was holding the glass like that was because of his quirk.

“Shigaraki, this is (Y/N), I brought (him/her/them) cause (he/she/they) need some training with (his/her/their) quirk.” Giran said and took a drag from his cigarette. He exhaled and a smoke cloud came in the room. “(He/She/They) is getting better at it but, (he/she/they) still needs some help.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “At least I don’t treat kids like they’re nothing.” You mumbled still bitter about Shigaraki’s comment.

“What was that?” The blue haired man asked, dangerously.

“So, you’re deaf huh? I thought an excellent leader would treat a new recruit with respect no matter the age they are.”

Another clever word Sets off an unsuspecting herd And as you get back into line A mob jumps to their feet

“Shut up.” Shigaraki muttered and scratched his neck. He was stressed about the trouble this kid was causing. Sure he and Dabi didn’t get along but he liked being in control. “(He/She/They) is mature for (his/her/their) age.” Giran said. “Maybe with (him/her/them) as leader it won’t be bad.” He added. He knew what you were doing. If you get him mad enough to get him to look at you in the eye then you can show off your quirk. You did keep your mouth shut as the man stood up and walked over to you. You looked at him in the eye and a (F/C) hue came to your (E/C) eyes. His eyes begin to fog up a little, not enough to appear blind but enough to look suspicious.

Now dance, ****er, dance Man, he never had a chance And no one even knew It was really only you

Shigaraki barely saw the change of your eye color. He was so surprised to started dancing. His feet moved in a fast pace in place. “What the ****!?!” He yelled, only in his mind. Dabi started laughing again. The scarred man leaned over clutching his stomach. He’s laughing so hard he might start crying, or blood will fall from his destroyed tear ducts, if he’s not careful. After a few minutes of dancing you blinked to end the curse on him. They didn’t know that you caused it to happen. Giran smirked and patted you on the head. “What the h***?” The man asked looking around, wondering what just happened.

“That is (his/her/their) quirk at work.” He man said before the other could get angry. “With a power like (hers/his/theirs) would be useful for heist situations and causing diversions wouldn’t it?”

“What is (his/her/theirs) quirk?” The wisp man asked.

“Manipulation.” You said. “Whenever I look at someone in the eyes it activates my power. I can hold control of them for at least an hour before I get a headache. Best part is no one knows that they’re under my grasp.” You said.

“I’ll admit that I’m impressed.” Shigaraki said. “Welcome I guess.”

Giran smiled. “You won’t be disappointed.”

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And now you steal away Take him out today

After a few weeks of joining the League you’re on your first solo mission. Before this one you were mainly paired with a blonde haired girl named Toga. She was pretty nice when she wasn’t obsessing over blood or trying to stab you. Other times you were paired with a man named Twice. He would say two different things and it would give you mixed feelings about a job well done.

You walked through the area of the city to a hero agency. Your job is to find maps of the inside and steal them. Shigaraki didn’t care if they were on paper or not all he cared about was getting them, It’s pretty simple to do but considering this is you, you had a knife and a handheld gun just in case if things went south. So far it was going well. You got a security guard under control and using him you were able to get a computer with the building’s layout on it. Pulling out a flash drive that Compress had given you, you stuck it in the computer and start downloading. Unfortunately, you looked away from the guard and he glared at you.

“I don’t know your plan here kid, but it’s best if you leave now.” He said. He did try to alert someone but it was useless, he was trapped in his mind until you looked away. You looked at him and put your hand in your pocket with the knife.

“I don’t think so.” You said. Before he could call for backup you pulled the knife out and threw it at his chest. He gasped at the impact of the knife and slumped to the floor. Blood was falling from the wound fast, staining his shirt and forming a puddle. Thankfully there was a ding as the data had finished uploading to the flash drive. You walked over to the computer and pulled it out. You smirked as you pocketed it and pulled the knife out from the guard. You left the building leaving behind a guard slowly bleeding to death.

Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid

You walked back into the hideout and put the flash drive on the bar next to Shigaraki. He nodded at you when he saw it. “Good job. A win for us.” He said and carefully pocketed the piece of tech.

“And in an hour too.” Spinner said.

“That’s really impressive!” Twice said. “It’s not that impressive.”

You feel a hand clamp on your head and ruffle your hair. “Not bad, kid.” Dabi said. He could tell you’re gonna go far in the villain industry.

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With a thousand lies And a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

You had gotten in the school with one of the best lies you have, your parents went there. It wasn’t U.A. but it’s also training people for the hero industry. The plan was to get the best marks in the school and transfer to U.A. as the highest in your class. Giran came into play for making fake documents that pass off as real.

The one on one fight that took place with some kid you didn’t even bother to know was annoying. His quirk was something water related and you almost drowned a couple of times. You finally looked at him in the eye and ordered him to stop. You ran up to him and punched his face, in the between the eyes a couple of times. The first one stun him while the other knocked him out.

When you walk away Nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

You panted and wiped the sweat away from your forehead. You walked away from the ring where the training took place and looked at everyone else. They looked away from you in fear and parted like a body of water. You swore you saw someone running for their life. You smirked to yourself and took your seat on the bleachers. Pride danced in your eyes like lightning.

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Slowly out of line And drifting closer in your sights So play it out I'm wide awake It's a scene about me

The first thing the infamous Class 1-A noticed about you is how secretive you were. You shared nothing about yourself other than your name and quirk. They noticed that you did some… shady things to put it mildly. Some noticed you snuck out of the dorms at night. Idia, Miydoriya, Bakugo and Todoroki had followed you to an alleyway and heard you talking to some shadowy figure there. Both spoke in soft whispers that they couldn’t tell who you were talking to and whether or not they were male or female. Other than that occurrence, they didn’t get anything else.

About a week later, the League attacked UA. You had managed to get them in through your student ID and gave them full access to the school, by a really good copy of the little plastic card. Five minutes prior to the attack, you had excused yourself from math, who needs it anyways, and went to the bathroom. While the lockdown was going on, you met with Toga in the halls. The plan was to get to All Might and kill him, the typical plan made by the man child of a leader you have. You both heard footsteps running towards you and saw it was the class president, Iida. “(L/N), get away from her!” He yelled, doing his hand chop thing. You smirked and took out the dagger the blonde handed you. “No, I don’t think I will.” You responded. Time to shine.

There's something in your way And now someone is gonna pay And if you can't get what you want, Well, it's all because of me

He stood there, shell shocked at the sight before him. His classmate was a villain? You couldn’t use your quirk yet, anyways. You decided to let the scene play out. You let a dark chuckle seeing his face. “All my life I’ve been told that I was best suited for a villain. You know, you could’ve used the time you knew me to get to know me but, everyone treated me the same as before! It’s too bad that things had to end like this. Wait, no it’s not that bad. You and your class are gonna pay!” You yelled. You lunged at him and he dodged as he snapped out of his shocked state.

“(Y/N), it doesn’t have to be this way!” He said and continued to dodge the blade. He was still surprised and didn’t attempt to fight back because he couldn’t believe the suspicions about you were true. You growled in frustration. “It’s too late for me anyways. You can’t turn me to the light.” You said and looked at him in the eyes and yours started glowing (F/C). He almost let out a gasp but it didn’t leave his body as his eyes fogged up a little.

Now dance, ****er, dance, man, I never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you And now you'll lead the way

You smiled as the class representative had fallen for your trick. “Now, we’re going back to the class, and you’re going to act like everything is alright.” You ordered.

He nodded. “Yes, (Sir/Ma’am/Other).” He said, voice coming out robotically. He set off to find his class and you followed him, due to your power. The irony of the situation was almost amusing to you. Almost. The head of the class, now a puppet. A puppet that can dance to whatever twisted moves that you have set for it.

Show the light of day Nice work you did You're gonna go far, kid Trust deceived

You followed him down the twisting paths of the hallways to the rest of the class. Your gaze fixed on the back of his head. You knew Toga was going to inform everyone else that everything was according to plan. Finally, the two of you reached the hiding area where everyone else was. “Thank goodness you found, (him/her/them!)” You heard Izuku said. Then he noticed that something was off about his classmates. You were refusing to look at anybody else than the boy in front of you and Iida’s looked dazed. Like he was… under someone’s control.

The greenette’s eyes widened. His classmate was… no. He had his suspicions but the truth is hard to handle. Before he could say anything, Iida gave him a swift kick in the face.

With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

They stood there in surprise and shock. A blanket of fear had covered them, making them stand there like statues. The only sounds were the groans of Miydoriya and the thud of his body hitting the ground. “I-Iida.” Ochaco stuttered in fear. No one had expected the class president to attack their classmate outside of training. The blue haired boy then hit the nearest person, Mineta, giving him a punch to the cheek. No one really reacted to that. In all honesty, the grape had it coming.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

While they were distracted, you used the opportunity to leave. It didn’t matter if Iida was going to spill the secret you kept from them. That s*** was already out. You smirked to yourself knowing which side of the street you belong in.

Now dance, ****er, dance, he never had a chance And no one even knew, it was really only you So dance, ****er, dance, I never had a chance It was really only you

The mission went out as planned. It was only a ploy to strike fear in the hearts of citizens. After all, an attack with no causalities is far worse with ones that do. You now sat at the bar, a bottle of water in your hand. You may be a criminal but the age of drinking consent is something that you can’t argue with. No matter how hard you tried. The news was on talking about the event. Everyone was able to get away without anyone being caught. Call it luck or whatever but, you’re thankful that they did. The anchorwoman was talking about how a student was involved with the League and helped out. A picture of your face appeared on the screen and you smirked. It wasn’t a school photo but a mugshot from a previous capture. One you managed to get away from. No one even suspected you, or so you think, but regardless it’s wonderful to see.

With a thousand lies and a good disguise Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

You couldn’t help but chuckled remembering the looks on each of their faces. What they thought was a classmate was really playing a part. A perfect disguise if you asked yourself. You have the innocent looking (boy/girl/person) appearance and if anyone who didn’t know you found out about your job. It would’ve made you laugh as not everything is as it seems.

Your fists tingled as they remembered the feeling of their face contacting your skin. You placed the hand that held the plastic bottle on top of the other’s knuckles. The feeling is something you’re going to remember for a long time.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

A pair of footsteps came walking in and you dropped your hands to your lap. You see Shigaraki walking into the bar holding a folder, with a finger away from it as always. You know it could only mean one thing. “Another mission?” You asked, voicing your thoughts. The boss nodded and handed it to you.

“Go over it and be ready for when the time comes. You did good on your last mission, keep up the good work. You’re a valuable character.” He said before walking away. You weren’t sure if the last sentence was a praise or another video game term but regardless you nodded.

“Will do.” You said and opened it up, wondering what will be to cause more fear in the people. And more pride in yourself. Each success makes you happy.

Clever alibis, Lord of the Flies Hit 'em right between the eyes Hit 'em right between the eyes

You almost busted out laughing seeing which role you were supposed to play. An innocent citizen who loves all the hero crap. You won’t be alone this time, having Toga to accompany you on this one. You felt excited for the mission. It would mean more people will realize what idiots heroes truly are. The truth will knock them down from the clouds.

When you walk away, nothing more to say See the lightning in your eyes See 'em running for their lives

But right now, it’s time for a nap. The last mission tired you out. You took the folder with you and walked to your room. All that matters right now is a bed, a blanket, and wonderful dreams of a world where people run in fear from you.

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selfignitingimagines · 3 years

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Stiles- If I Can’t Have You, No One Can (Obsessed Part 4)

A/N: When I was initally writing this series I had a set plan for where I wanted it to end and how. I was recently rewatching the last few episodes of season 2 and I got struck with some inspiration. Let me know down below if you guys want a part 5 so I can continue the series!

TRIGGER WARNING: Stalking, kidnapping

Here are the links for Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3.

“Right there!” Stiles cried, frantically gesturing toward the computer screen on his dad’s desk. “Stop! Stop! See? There he is again.”

They were scrolling through hours of security footage recorded at the hospital the night one of Matt’s victims was killed. So far, all they had managed to capture were shots of him with his back turned. This tape was no different.

“You mean there’s the back of his head again,” the Sheriff told him.

“Okay, but look. He’s talking to someone!”

Scott followed Stiles’ gaze. His eyes widened. “He’s talking to my mom.”

He hastily pulled out his phone out of his jeans and called his mom, hoping she would be able to confirm that it was Matt. Stiles tapped his foot nervously as they talked. His shoulders slumped in relief when he heard her say that Matt was the one she had seen.

“Alright,” the Sheriff said when she hung up. He picked up a manila evidence folder from his desk.

“We’ve got shoe prints alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site...”

“And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders,” Stiles said. “The trailer, the hospital, and the rave.”

“Actually four,” the Sheriff told him, flipping through the documents in the folder. “A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt a few hours before the murder.”

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. “Alright, Dad, if one’s an incident, two’s a coincidence, and three’s a pattern, what’s four?”

“Four’s enough for a warrant.”

Stiles curled his fist in triumph. “We can find Y/n.”

“Scott, call your mom back. See how quickly she can get here. If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Stiles, go to the front desk. Tell them to let Scott’s mom in when she gets here.”

“On it.” Stiles nodded hastily and turned down the hall.

His whole body was humming with adrenaline now. He had spent the whole night terrified, wondering what Matt was doing to you. Stiles knew you were probably betting on the fact that they would find you. After all, it was what he would have done in your situation.

You have saved each other plenty of times before, and now it was his turn again. He knew he could do it, he just wasn’t sure what Matt would do to you in the meantime.

Stiles had tried his best to protect you, but he knew it hadn’t been enough. He should have pushed harder when he suggested you go to the police the other night. He should have kept a closer eye on you at the party, but he had been too caught up in his own issues.

He tried to shake off those thoughts as he walked down the halls of the station, telling himself that he still had time to make up for it. He had told you the other night that everything he did was to keep you safe, and that was still true.

As he rounded the corner of the hall, Stiles realized that the officer on duty was no longer standing at the front desk.

“Hello?” he called, looking around for her.

That was when he noticed her black combat boot sticking out from behind the corner of the desk. He felt a shiver run down his spine, and he realized she was lying on the floor among a mess of fallen papers. Her eyes were wide open, but they weren’t moving, and her tan uniform was stained dark red with blood.

She was dead, but as Stiles took in the horrific sight, he also noticed another chilling detail. The holster on her hip was empty. Someone had taken her gun.

Stiles stumbled back, turning around, only to come face to face with you.“Y/n?”

Tears were slipping from your eyes, and your lip was trembling. You looked terrified, standing there in your disheveled dress. It was the same one you had been wearing at the party last night.

Matt was standing behind you, one hand one your shoulder as he pressed the dead officer’s gun into your back.

“If you make one move I’ll shoot her,” he told Stiles.

Stiles reluctantly held up his hands. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you mouthed, but he shook his head. You had to know this wasn’t your fault.

Matt kept the barrel of the gun pressed against your back as Stiles led you further into the station. He turned into his dad’s office, and you realized that the Sheriff and your brother were also there.

“Y/n!” Scott cried.

He started forward, but Matt ordered him to stop, waving the gun so he and the others could see it.

“Matt,” the Sheriff said slowly. He held up his hands.

“It’s Matt, right? Matt, whatever’s going on, I guarantee there’s a solution that doesn’t involve a gun.”

Matt’s lips curled into a sick grin. “You know it’s funny you say that, because I don’t think you’re aware of just how right you are.”

“I know you don’t wanna hurt people-”

“Actually, I wanna hurt a lot of people. You four weren’t on my list, but I could be persuaded...and one way is to try calling somebody on your cell phone like McCall is doing.”

Scott ripped his hand out of his pocket, looking between you and Stiles apologetically.

“That...that could definitely get someone hurt.”

“Everyone?” Matt gestured with the gun, and you knew he was telling them to give up their phones. “Now!”

“Come on,” the Sheriff told the boys calmly.

Stiles looked back at you.

“Pretty sure he tossed mine out the window last night,” you muttered.

Matt led the four of you to the tiny jail at the back of the station. There, he made Stiles handcuff his dad to a bench. You felt your stomach drop. Now the three of you were completely on your own with Matt.

He waved the three of you in front of him and forced you to walk up to the front of the station. As you passed by another hallway, you gasped.

Three other officers were lying in the hallway and all of them appeared to be dead. Their chests had been ripped open so forcefully that every wall around them was splattered with blood.

You looked away, fighting the urge to vomit.

“What, are you gonna kill everyone in here?” Scott demanded.

“No,” Matt said with a scoff. “That’s what Jackson’s for. I just think about killing them...and he does it.”

He forced you back into Stilinski’s office, where he made Stiles log into his dad’s computer. Matt had him delete every bit of evidence, including the video footage of him at the hospital. Scott was destroying the paper evidence in the shredder, including the shoe prints that would have matched Matt’s boots.

Stiles glared at Matt from behind the desk, wanting to rip him apart as he stroked his fingers down your hair. He had forced you to sit next to him on the couch, and you were currently staring intently at the tiled floor.

Stiles had already seen the bruises Matt had left on your throat. The only thing keeping him from jumping across that desk was the knowledge that Matt would have Jackson rip all of you to pieces at a moment’s notice.

“Deleted,” he told Matt bitterly, gesturing toward the computer. “And we’re done. So, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered deserved it, because they killed you first-whatever that means-we’re good here, right? I’ll just get my dad and we’ll go. You know, you continue on the whole vengeance thing, enjoy the Kanima.”

Before he could respond, the glow of headlights swept through the windows. You could hear tires crunching on the gravel of the parking lot outside.

“Sounds like your mom’s here,” Matt told you and Scott.

“Matt, don’t do this,” you begged.

“When she comes to the door, we’ll just tell her to leave,” Scott added. “I’ll tell her we didn’t find anything! Please, Matt.”

The sound of the metal door creaking open echoed through the station, and Matt grinned. “If you don’t move now, I’m gonna kill Y/n first, and then your mom.”

He pressed the gun up against your back, and Scott glared at him. Matt pulled you up by the back of your dress and gestured for Scott and Stiles to go first.

“Open it,” he ordered Scott, when you had made your way back to the front lobby.

“Please,” Scott begged one more time.

“Open. The. Door,” Matt told him, enunciating each word carefully.

Scott reached out, shaking his head regretfully. When he turned the knob, the door slowly creaked open to reveal the person standing there. It wasn’t your mom, but Derek Hale.

“Oh thank god,” Scott breathed.

But Derek simply stared at him. Then, he pitched forward and slammed straight onto the floor below. Jackson was standing behind him, half transformed. He held up one scaly hand, still dripping with clear venom, and stalked into the lobby.

Matt walked over and knelt in front of Derek, flipping him on his back. He was now completely paralyzed.

“This is the one controlling him?” Derek asked from the floor. “This kid?”

“Well, Derek, not everyone’s lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf.”

Matt straightened up, glancing between you, Scott, and Stiles. “That’s right! I’ve learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas...it’s like a freakin’ halloween party every full moon.”

He smirked. “Except for you Stiles. What do you turn into?”

Stiles glared at him.

“Abominable snowman,” he snarked. “But it’s more of, like, a wintertime thing. You know...seasonal.”

Matt rolled his eyes, and in seconds, Jackson was swiping his claws across the back of Stiles neck.

“Hey!” you cried.

“Bitch,” Stiles swore at Matt, before his knees went out from under him. He crashed onto the ground, right on top of Derek’s chest.

“Get him off of me,” Derek growled.

Matt laughed. “Oh, I don’t know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair. It must suck though, having all that power taken away from you with just a little cut to the back of the neck. I bet you’re not used to feeling this helpless.”

Derek glared up at him from the floor. “Still got some teeth. Scoot down here a little closer, huh? We’ll see how helpless I am.”

“Yeah, bitch.”

Stiles’ voice was muffled from being facedown against Derek’s chest, but you couldn’t help but smile.

For the second time that night, headlights flashed through the windows of the sheriff’s station. You could hear another car pulling to a stop outside.

“Is that your mom?” Matt asked. “Do what I tell you to, and I won’t hurt her. I won’t even let Jackson near her.

“Scott, don’t trust him,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shirt.

Scott remained frozen in front of the door, but Matt was impatient. He reached forward, snatching you by your hair and tugging you back against him. He wrapped his arm around your neck, squeezing against your windpipe and cutting off your breath.

“This work better for you?” he asked Scott.

You reached up, scratching at his arms, but he didn’t even flinch.

“Okay, stop, just stop,” your brother begged.

“Then do what I tell you to!” Matt spat.

“Okay, alright, stop!”

Matt finally let you go, right as you were on the verge of blacking out. You hit the floor on your hands and knees, gasping and dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

“You,” Matt said, gesturing to Jackson. “Take them in there. You two, with me.”

He yanked you up off the ground by your arm, and gestured for Scott to open the door as Jackson hauled Derek and Stiles out of the lobby.

When the door finally opened, Matt pulled you behind the corner of the hallway. You could hear the door squeaking open, and your mom asking “Scott?”

You were trembling as Matt held you back against his chest. What would he do to your mom?”

“You scared me,” you heard her say. “Where is everyone?”

That was when Matt shoved you out in front of him. Your mom gasped your name. As far as she had known, you were still missing.

When she saw Matt come out behind you and press the gun against your back, she froze.

“Mom,” Scott told her nervously. “Just do what he says. He promised he wouldn’t hurt you.”

“He’s right,” Matt agreed.

Then, he raised the gun, and shot Scott in the stomach. You and your mom both screamed, but as she rushed forward, Matt pointed the gun at you.

“But I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt him.”

Scott was holding himself up using the wall, just barely managing to not fall to his knees. He had one hand pressed against his side, and blood was beginning to pool through his shirt. You knew he would heal from the gunshot wound, but your mom didn’t.

She tried to step forward, but Matt waved the gun.

“Back! Back!” he ordered.

“Mom,” Scott choked. “Mom, do it. Please mom.”

You could hear Stiles' dad from all the way at the back of the station. He had undoubtedly heard the gunshot.

“Matt! Matt, listen to me-!”

“Shut up!” Matt roared. “Shut up! Everybody shut the hell up!”

He gestured to Scott before training the gun back on you. “Get up, or I shoot your sister next.”

“Please,” your mom begged. Tears were running down her cheeks. “He needs to see a doctor.”

Matt tilted his head. “You think so?”

“It’s alright,” Scott insisted. “I’m okay.”

“No, sweetie, you’re not,” your mom insisted.

She began to babble about how he was just feeling the adrenaline, how he needed to get to the hospital. You looked over at your brother, and he met your eyes. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his secret after this, provided you all made it out alive.

“They have no idea, do they?” Matt asked you.

You didn’t answer him. Your mom was still trying to convince Matt to let her take Scott to the hospital.

“Lady, if you keep talking, I’m going to put the next bullet in her head.”

He raised the gun to your skull. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the barrel of the gun against your skin.

Your mom took a deep breath, and held up her hands. Tears were streaming down her face, leaving wet lines of black mascara. “Okay...okay.”

Matt shoved you in front of him, pushing you down the hall. He paraded you back through the station, and locked your mom into the cell next to the bench Stilinski was cuffed to.

When Matt shut the cell door, your mom reached out through the bars, grasping your hand tightly. “You’re okay?”

You nodded, tears slipping from your own eyes. “I’m okay. Stiles and Scott made sure I was safe.”

“Back to the front McCall!” Matt barked. “Both of you!”

You glanced back at your mom reluctantly as Matt shoved you in front of him. He walked behind you and your brother as you headed out into the hallway. Then, he herded you into the station breakroom.

There were a few tables and some chairs, but even though you were exhausted, you were too afraid to sit down. Scott leaned against one of the tables, still grasping his bloody side. You guessed the wound wasn’t fully healed yet. If the bullet hadn’t exited, it wouldn’t be able to close unless someone pulled it out.

“The evidence is gone,” Scott told him. “Why don’t you just go?” Matt raised his eyebrows. “You really think the evidence mattered that much? No. No, I want the book.”

“What book?” Scott asked him,

“The bestiary!” Matt snarled. “And not just a few pages. I want the entire thing.”

“I don’t have it. It’s Gerard’s. You told him that, didn’t you?” He was looking at you now. You shrugged. “I tried.”

Scott glanced back over at Matt. “What do you need it for, anyway?”

“I need answers.”

“Answers to what?”

Frustrated, Matt yanked up the edge of his shirt, revealing his scale-covered side. “To this!”

Scott’s eyes went wide. If Matt was turning into another kanima, there was nothing stopping him from killing whoever he wanted. When you looked at your brother’s face, you had the sneaking suspicion that you two would be next on his list.

------

Stiles laid on the floor of the station, staring up at the ceiling. The tiled floor was cold against his back, which was a welcome relief considering sweat was dripping down his neck. He wasn’t sure whether it was just hot in the station, or if he was nervous. If he was being honest, it was both.

He and Derek had been lying there for what felt like hours, but Stiles knew it was probably only thirty minutes.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the silence. “Do you know what’s happening to Matt?”

“I know the book’s not gonna help him,” Derek said grimly. “You can’t just break the rules. Not like this.”

Stiles tried to look over at him from the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean?”

“The universe balances things out. It always does.”

“Is it because he’s using Jackson to kill people who don’t deserve it?”

“And killing people himself,” Derek added.

Stiles thought for a moment. “So if he breaks the rules of the Kanima, he becomes the Kanima?”

“Balance,” Derek agreed.

“Will he believe us if we tell him that?”

“Probably not.”

Stiles sighed. “Okay, he’s gonna kill all of us once he gets that book, isn’t he?”

“Yep...except for maybe Scott’s sister.”

Stiles gritted his teeth. “I’m gonna kick his ass the second I can move again.”

“That’s a great way to get her throat ripped out too.”

Stiles didn’t respond. He knew Derek was right, but a part of him wanted to go after Matt without thinking about the consequences. He knew he had left those bruises on your neck. He knew that the minute you shattered Matt’s fantasy, he would kill you too. He had to do something before that happened.

“I know you’re in love with her.”

Stiles swallowed at Derek’s words. “Maybe.”

“I can tell. I know you’d do anything to save her, but right now, we need to be smarter.”

“Alright,” Stiles relented. “So what do we do? Do we just sit here and wait to die?”

“Unless I can figure out a way to push the toxin out of my body faster, like triggering the healing process.”

“Wha-”

He glanced down, only to realize that Derek’s claws were now protruding from his fingers. They had grown into his jeans, right into his skin, where blood was beginning to ooze.

Stiles gagged. “Oh, gross.”

-----

Back in the breakroom of the station, Matt shook his head, letting his shirt fall back down. He glanced between you and Scott.

“You know, I feel sorry for you guys. Cause right now you’re probably thinking ‘How am I gonna explain this when it heals?’. And the sad part is, you don’t even realize how incredible it is that you are healing. Cause you know what happens to anyone else when they get shot? They die!”

You and Scott exchanged uneasy glances.

“Is that what happened to you?” your brother asked.

Matt was silent. He was staring at the ground, but he didn’t look as vicious as he had earlier. He actually seemed kind of tired. Scott seemed to notice this too, so he continued to press.

“You drowned, didn’t you?”

“He shouldn’t have let them drink,” Matt muttered, still staring at the floor.

“What?” you asked. “Who? Matt, what do you mean?”

“Lahey!” He suddenly exploded. “He shouldn’t have let them drink.”

You flinched back, closer to your brother.

“What?” Scott asked. “Who was drinking?”

“The swim team, you idiot! I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know they had just won State…”

You and Scott listened to Matt as he went on and on. He explained how, when he was in eighth grade, he had been heading over to Isaac’s to trade comics. Mr. Lahey was throwing a party for his swim team and letting them drink around the pool. All of Matt’s victims had been there. Tucker, Cara, Bennett, even Jessica and Shawn, the married couple.

They were joking around when Matt came into the backyard, tossing each other into the pool. Isaac’s brother Camden decided to throw Matt in too. They didn’t know he couldn’t swim.

“And the next thing I know, I’m lying by the pool,” Matt explained. “And Lahey’s standing over me, and he’s saying ‘You don’t know how to swim? What little bastard doesn’t know how to swim? You say nothing. You tell no one.’ And I didn’t.”

He let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “I would wake up every night, gasping for breath. My parents thought I was an asthamatic. They even got me and inhaler. They didn’t know that everytime I closed my eyes, I…I was drowning.”

He was silent for a few moments, and then he looked back at you and Scott. “And then came Kate Argent’s funeral.”

His lips began to curl into a smile as he explained how he had realized he and Jackson were bonded.

“I was taking some photos, and then, purely by accident, Lahey gets in one of them. I looked down at my camera, and I just had this unbelievable rage that filled up inside of me. I looked at him and I just...I wanted to see him dead.”

Matt let out a disbelieving laugh. “And the next day, he actually was! You know, Einstein was right. Imagination is more important than knowledge. It was like something out of Greek mythology, like...like the Furies coming down to punish Orestes.”

He looked over at Scott, who was staring at him, dumbfounded. Matt rolled his eyes. “You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”

Scott swallowed. “Was that...was that the guy that stabbed out his eyes.”

“That’s Oedipus, you dumbass!” Matt barked.

His gaze snapped over at you. “You know what I’m talking about don’t you?”

You nodded carefully. “The furies were deities of vengeance, weren’t they?”

Matt nodded. “Their tears ran of blood and they had snakes for hair. If there was a crime that had gone unpunished, the Furies would do the punishing. Jackson is my Fury. You know, when I saw him the next night, I knew he had killed Lahey for me, and I knew he would do it again.”

Matt began to smile to himself again. “So I went to Tucker’s garage. I even paid for an oil change, and guess what? He didn’t even recognize me! So when he wasn’t looking, I took a shot of him with my camera...and in a few hours, he was dead. So I took more pictures. All I had to do was take their picture, and Jackson would take their life.”

You glanced over at Scott, who looked just as concerned as you were. Matt was giving no indication that he would stop the killings. You were pretty sure that he and Stiles were next on his list.

Scott opened his mouth, maybe to try and convince Matt to let you all go, but he never got the chance to speak. The thick, acrid smell of smoke filled the air, and suddenly the room was engulfed in a white cloud.

Sirens began to wail, echoing through the halls of the station. They let out a sharp, bleating sound that hurt your ears.

“What is this?!” Matt demanded. “What’s happening? What’s going on?!”

He suddenly reached out, snatching you by the arm.

“I don’t know!” Scott cried. “Y/n, where are you?”

“I’m right here!”

He reached out, trying to see if he could grab you, but Matt yanked you backward against him. He pressed his gun against your side and forced you out the nearest exit.

Bright yellow emergency lights began to flicker, illuminating the breakroom. Jackson passed you and Matt as you left the room. He was headed right toward Scott. You tried to pull out of his grasp, but he dug his nails into your arm.

“Scott!” you screamed.

“I’ll have Jackson rip your mom apart next,” he snarled.

He dragged you through the halls of the station, keeping the gun pressed tightly against your side. The smoke was starting to dissipate now, and the flashing lights ensured that Matt knew where he was going.

He shoved open a door and hauled you into a darkened garage. The long room was bordered by bay doors on one side. A few desks littered the room, but it was mostly filled with police squad cars or transport vans.

Matt dragged you past tool carts and spare tires, and you struggled not to trip.

“Please, Matt,” you begged. “Just let me go.”

“Shut up!” Matt snapped. He looked around frantically until he spotted a door with a glowing, red exit sign. He pushed you toward it and forced you outside.

Cool air hit your face as you stepped out into the night, but you didn’t have time to appreciate it. He broke into a run, keeping one hand on your arm as he pulled you further from the building. Panic began to build in your chest.

A couple hundred yards ahead, the clearing you and Matt were running through ended with a line of trees. There was a small creek running at the edge of it. Farther downstream, a bridge crossed over the water. Matt began to pull you in the opposite direction.

Suddenly, you stumbled, falling onto your knees in the grass. Matt reached down to haul you up, but when his guard was down, you knocked the gun out of his hand. It landed somewhere in the grass, and he was unable to see where it went in the dark.

You scrambled onto your feet as Matt felt for the gun in the grass, but when he realized you were running, he abandoned it.

“No!”

He tackled you to the ground before you could even make it five feet away, and the impact knocked the wind out of you.

You squirmed, but he quickly pinned you down into the grass.

“Get off me!” you gasped, but his hands were pressing your wrists into the grass.

He smiled down at you, but there was an empty look in his eyes. Your heart began to pound even harder against your chest.

“Do you remember when I said that I’m not the type of guy that’s gonna say something like ‘If I can’t have her, no one can.’?”

You writhed under him, but your exhaustion had caught up with you. He was much stronger, and now that he was turning into another kanima, you didn’t have a chance of fighting him off.

Matt didn’t wait for you to respond to him. He just kept talking and grinning down at you with that sick look in his eyes.

“See, that’s not entirely true,” he mused. “Because, Y/n, if I can’t have you. No one can.”

Then his hands were on your neck, squeezing. You fought him, gasping for air that wouldn’t come. He was going to kill you.

You reached up, scratching at his hands and wrists. You could feel his skin peeling away under your nails and the warm, wet blood you were drawing. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Your vision was beginning to cloud. Your attempts to fight him off were growing weaker by the second. All you could think of was Stiles.

The two of you always seemed to be saving each other in one way or another. This time, you had hoped he would be able to rescue you, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. You knew there was no use in hoping for anything else.

Instead, you tried to think about something good. As your mind wandered, you thought of Stiles’ honey brown eyes. You thought of the surprise and delight on his face when you said something funny that he hadn’t expected. You remembered the way he had kissed you the night at the rave, his hands warm on your cheeks.

Everything was beginning to go dark, but you were content. You swore you could hear Stiles’ voice, warm and soothing...and then it was gone.

You opened your eyes, taking one painful, gasping breath. Matt’s weight was no longer on top of you. You rolled over onto your side, desperately sucking in air as you struggled to lift yourself up into a sitting position in the grass.

You looked around, wondering what had happened. That was when you saw Matt being dragged down the hill by Gerard Argent, of all people. You didn’t understand what was happening at first, but then, Gerard threw him down into the bed of the creek.

Gerard waded out until he was knee-deep in the water. Then he grabbed Matt by his t-shirt and thrust his head under water. You watched, horrified, as he drowned him in the creek.

That was when you ran, occasionally glancing over your shoulder to make sure Gerard wouldn’t follow you. He didn’t even look up. Either he would come after you later, or he just didn’t care.

You sprinted past the bridge, only to have a pair of arms reach out and snatch you back. You opened your mouth to scream, but a hand clamped down over your lips, muffling the sound.

You were pushed up against the side of the bridge, the rough stone scraping against your back. When you saw who had grabbed you, your eyes went wide. It was Peter Hale.

It suddenly crossed your mind that maybe you hadn’t escaped Matt in the clearing. Maybe you were dead. Maybe that was why you were face to face with Peter, whose throat Derek had slashed open last month.

He held one finger to his lips as he stared down at you, and while you should have been terrified, you had the odd feeling that he wouldn’t hurt you.

“Watch,” he said quietly.

He grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around, forcing you to look back at Matt and Gerard. You could see Matt’s motionless body floating in the water. Gerard was now standing up on the bank of the creek, his clothes still dripping wet. His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear what he was saying. It didn’t seem to matter, because what you saw next told you everything you needed to know.

The Kanima was creeping out from the shadows, wandering toward Gerard on its hands and feet. Instead of running, Gerard lifted one arm and raised his palm. The Kanima moved closer, hesitantly. Then it lifted up one scaly, clawed hand, and touched its palm to Gerard’s.

He was now its master.

“Go,” Peter urged in your ear. “Tell your brother what you saw.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “Why?”

A smile played at the edge of Peter’s lips. “I have a feeling we’re all on the same team now.”

He let go of your shoulders and you slowly backed away from him, keeping your eyes trained on his shadowy form the entire time. When you were a few yards away, you turned your back and took off running toward the station.

Your chest was burning as you raced back toward Scott and the others. When you pushed open the doors of the station, several officers whirled around and trained their guns on you. You guessed Stiles’ dad had called for backup at some point.

As you threw up your hands, you were able to see the Sheriff, your mom, and Stiles all standing in the lobby.

“Y/n!” Stiles cried. “Oh thank god.”

The officers lowered their guns, and Stiles rushed over. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. You froze in his arms, not quite sure how to handle his touch. The feeling of being caged against him made your skin crawl. Though you hated to admit it, it reminded you of Matt.

He pulled away suddenly, realizing you weren’t reciprocating.

“Hey...are-are you okay?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The lights of the station were too bright, and the sound of the deputies’ boots thumping on the floor caused you to flinch. You didn’t even know where to start.

Stiles watched in shock as you suddenly burst into tears. He wanted to reach out and hold you, but by the way you had just reacted, he was afraid to touch you.

“Oh, uh…”

Before he could think of anything to say, your mom rushed over and put a hand on your back. “Let’s get you somewhere quiet, Sweetheart.”

She cast a sympathetic glance in Stiles’ direction and led you down the hall. The Sheriff followed after the two of you, no doubt planning to take your statement. Matt was nowhere to be found, and Stiles was willing to bet you knew what happened to him.

He wanted to follow, but he knew if he did, his dad would just kick him out of the room. You were a witness now, and they would need an official statement from you.

Scott came jogging down the hallway. Stiles realized he must have heard you come back.

By then, the door to the office you had disappeared into was shut.

Scott headed over to Stiles. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted. “But I don’t think your sister’s okay.”

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #selfignitingimagines #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski imagines #@screamxqueenx94 #tw kidnapping #tw stalking

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sanderssidesfanfiction · 3 years

Text

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Thirty Six

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

June 23rd, 1998

“Hey, kid!” a protester yelled rather loudly as Emile was walking by.

Emile paused and turned to the guy. “Can I help you, sir?” he asked.

“You’re too young to be throwing away your life like this! You’re condemning yourself and you can’t be more than what, eighteen?”

“I’m seventeen, and Catholic, and pretty sure I’m going to Heaven no matter what you say,” Emile said.

The man sneered and Emile felt his stomach sink. There were others joining the man, all seeming ready to argue with him. Someone grabbed his arm and he looked over. Faith was guiding him away by the elbow. “C’mon, Emile, those types don’t even deserve the time of day.”

Emile turned to look back at the man, who was glaring at him until some other poor person walked up and he resumed his shouting at them. He winced. “Are there always people like that?” he asked.

“Not by the entrance, usually,” Faith said. “But yeah. One day, though, they’ll be the minority of the situation.”

June 1st, 2001

Emile was doing the dishes in their apartment with a small smile on his face. Ever since they had gotten back from Emile’s parents, Remy had been acting a lot more animated: getting excited about cooking, going off on tangents about how nice Emile’s parents were, them introducing him to badminton properly, Emile’s mom’s garden and how she grew a few ingredients to use in recipes (and asking if they could translate that to the apartment because then we wouldn’t have to pay for groceries as much, Emile! which Emile was still skeptical about).

It was a Friday, but Emile was officially out of school for the summer, which was very exciting. He could spend more time with Remy because working part time meant they both had a couple times a week where they would have nowhere in particular to be. He paused in washing. It was Friday, but it was also the start of June. Pride month. Emile had been to a pride parade or two, but he doubted that Remy had. And if they were careful, they could go out to one to celebrate!

He grinned. Oh, he’d have to go to the library and get on one of the computers to see if he could find a good pride parade nearby. He definitely wanted to introduce Remy to the joy that was pride parades!

As the last of the dishes in their apartment were drying, Remy walked in with his signature “work was awful” sigh. Emile strode over and gave Remy a light hug. “Hello, my love,” he said. “Would you be willing to go with me to the public library today?”

“I mean, I guess,” Remy sighed. “I’m really tired, though. Would it take long?”

“That depends,” Emile said with a shrug. “I’m not sure how easily I could get access to whichever site the pride parade information might be on.”

“Pride...parade?” Remy asked.

“Yeah, I wanted to take you to one. I figured you’d never gone before, and it’s super fun, and you get to be yourself with no judgement,” Emile said.

Remy’s blank expression had Emile confused. “Emile...what’s a pride parade?” Remy asked.

Emile blinked. “Have you really never heard of a pride parade before?” he asked. “I assumed you would have never gone, but you never even heard of it?”

Remy just continued to stare blankly at Emile.

Emile took a deep breath. “Okay, okay. The short version: a pride parade is where people who are gay or bi or trans or lesbian or whatever can go and celebrate who they are without worrying about what other people will think. If we went to one in a nearby city but not here, it’s unlikely anyone you don’t want to know you’re gay would be there. And they’re super fun! They have all sorts of pretty pride flags, and sometimes they have free buttons or stickers, and you can of course buy some stuff, too, from certain vendors, once the literal parade is over but the celebration is still going on. It’s really cool and I’d love to take you.”

“Emile,” Remy held up a hand. “Information overload.”

Emile pressed his lips together but he was practically vibrating in anticipation. He really wanted Remy to come with him. Remy did that blinking thing he sometimes did as he processed information, then looked at Emile. “And no one would fire us over going to this parade?”

“If we’re careful, no one will know we went to it, and no one who’s part of the parade would ever fire you for being gay,” Emile said with certainty.

“And...there’s like, no drinking or anything involved?”

“Not if you don’t have an ID,” Emile said. “Some vendors won’t sell to you at all until you’re twenty one.”

Remy hummed in thought.

“Would you...want to drink at pride? Rem? If you were able to?” Emile asked.

“I...don’t know. Alcohol is...clearly a depressant for me, and I don’t really want to be depressed at something you find fun,” Remy said with a shrug. “Honestly drinking is...kinda boring. Like, if I had some sort of food to go with it? Maybe. That could complement the food and make the meal taste even better. But drinking on its own is...eh. Not interesting. I’d only do it if I didn’t want to remember the night I drank.”

Emile relaxed at that. He knew that a drunk Remy had plenty of issues both with memories and in whatever situation the two of them found themselves in. If Remy decided he’d rather not drink, that was one less thing that Emile would have to worry about.

Remy frowned. “You’re relieved. Why are you relieved?”

Emile forgot that Remy could read him like an open book at the most inopportune times. “It doesn’t matter, Remy. Let’s just go to the library.”

“It matters to me,” Remy said stubbornly. “Why are you relieved?”

“Remy...” Emile sighed. “This is a conversation that is doomed to be really long and I really want to get to the library before it closes.”

Remy stood his ground, searching Emile’s eyes. Emile resisted the urge to squirm. “Why are you relieved?” Remy pressed.

“I’m relieved because you don’t want to drink,” Emile said.

Remy blinked. “Do you think I’m irresponsible around alcohol?” he asked, jutting his chin out in challenge.

“I think that considering both your past with your family and your identity you’re extremely likely to develop a drinking problem in order to self-medicate. That’s not healthy. Hearing that you don’t want to drink just because is a relief. Sure, hearing that you’d use it to forget a stressful night isn’t great, but you’re not going to become addicted to alcohol because of one bad bender,” Emile said.

“I’m perfectly healthy, Emile. Sure, my life wasn’t the easiest, but I wouldn’t resort to alcoholism.”

Emile ran a hand down his face. “This is why I didn’t want to get into this,” he muttered. He kissed the crown of Remy’s head. “I know you’re smart, honey. I know you know that alcohol isn’t an answer. But that doesn’t mean it can’t look tempting after a particularly bad day.”

Remy crossed his arms and Emile knew that Remy’s stubbornness was in full swing. “You’re dangerously close to controlling territory, Emile,” he growled.

“Controlling would be guilt-tripping you into not drinking. I’m just pointing out what I think about your statements. Not trying to guilt-trip anybody,” Emile placated.

Remy continued to snarl and Emile sighed. “Rem, I’m not your...I’m not your babysitter, I can’t tell you what you can and can’t do. I’m just trying to express my thoughts. It clearly came across wrong. For that, I apologize. But I would never intentionally want to guilt-trip you.”

“You were about to say you’re not my parents,” Remy growled.

“A habit I’m trying to kick,” Emile replied smoothly.

Remy ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t like it when you say that, Emile,” he warned.

“Which is why I’m trying to kick the habit. It won’t leave overnight,” Emile said.

“It should never have taken root in the first place,” Remy accused.

“You know what? You’re right,” Emile said. “It doesn’t do anything other than upset you and try to boost my ego. I shouldn’t have started saying it. But I did. So now the only thing I can do is try and stop it.”

Remy crossed his arms, scrutinizing Emile. Eventually, he sighed. “So, the library?”

“Yeah,” Emile agreed. “I can drive us over, or we could walk. It is a pretty nice day.”

“It’s a little hot to me,” Remy said.

Emile rolled his eyes. “Well, duh, you’re always wearing that leather jacket when you go out. You’re gonna overheat in that thing.”

“It’s a price I’m willing to pay for the aesthetic,” Remy said, face expressionless.

Emile sighed and walked out the door as Remy grinned and followed him. “You worry me, Rem. Like, a lot.”

“Aw, come on, the aesthetic is amazing! It makes me look cool,” Remy said.

“I would argue it makes you look hot, and not in the attractive sense,” Emile argued, even as he kissed Remy’s cheek. “Either learn to drink more water during the summer, or lose the jacket.”

“How much water would I have to drink, exactly?” Remy asked.

“At least eight cups,” Emile said.

Remy tilted his head back and groaned. “That’s so many,” he complained.

“The price to pay for the aesthetic,” Emile teased.

Remy scowled before grabbing Emile’s shoulders and leaping on top of him. Emile squawked and nearly fell over right outside the apartment complex, where two of their more...conservative neighbors were currently walking in. Emile waved to them. “Hey, Grace, Roy! How are you?”

They didn’t reply to him, not that Emile minded. He was a little busy trying to get Remy off him. Remy was laughing maniacally as he had his legs wrapped around Emile’s torso. “Remy, Remy! Re—oof! Remy! Don’t kick there!” Emile protested.

“I wouldn’t have to kick you if you didn’t squirm so much!” Remy argued.

“I am not a jungle gym! Off! Now!” Emile shot back.

Remy sighed and put his legs down. “I didn’t hurt your back, did I?” Remy asked.

“My back? No. My kidneys? Give me three to five business days,” Emile drily replied.

Remy winced. “Sorry.”

Emile waved off his apology. “Let’s just get to the library, okay?”

They got in Emile’s car and drove over, Emile immediately heading to the queue for the computers. When he put his library card on the list, he waited for a computer to open while Remy went to look at books. As soon as he was allowed to get on a computer, he did, waving Remy over. They went online and Emile searched for local pride parades. “There’s this one we could go to, it’s two towns over,” Emile said softly.

“Two towns over still seems kinda close,” Remy murmured.

“Well, there might be protesters around but I don’t know any people out here who would go out of their way to drive over there to wave around a sign about going to Hell,” Emile said. “And we don’t want to go too far away. It would be a one-day thing, it’s not like we have the money to rent a room at a hotel.”

“Okay, that’s a valid point,” Remy muttered. “Do we have to make reservations or anything? RSVP?”

“Nope, all we have to do is show up and not bring anything they don’t allow,” Emile said, grinning. “You’re gonna have a great time, Remy, I already know it.”

Remy shifted where he stood. “I guess I have to take your word on that, because I don’t have a reference point,” he said. “But I’m still not sure.”

Emile sighed and clicked around the site, making note of what the parade did and didn’t allow. “If you don’t want to go I understand,” Emile said. “But it would be way more fun with you, and I promise it’s safe.”

Remy chewed his lip. “I really want to believe you, Emile. It’s just...it’s hard. Not because of you, necessarily. It’s just hard in general.”

“Yeah,” Emile agreed. “I was super nervous my first Pride. A few protesters got close to me, tried to shout me out of going in. But my friends kept me moving, away from them, and I had the time of my life, getting to be myself, loud and out and proud of it for just a couple hours. And I couldn’t wait to go back to it the next year.”

“And you didn’t...?” Remy paused. “You don’t worry that the protesters are right?” He was hugging himself as he softly asked, “You know you won’t go to Hell for it?”

“Honey...” Emile chewed his lip, before standing and hugging Remy tightly. “They’re wrong, they’ve always been wrong and always will be wrong. It doesn’t matter who the protesters are, either. Catholic, Protestant, Muslim, Jewish, or just plain old homophobes without much inclination towards any religion. They aren’t in the right. You won’t go to Hell for loving me or any other man. Okay?”

“Okay,” Remy said softly.

“Okay,” Emile repeated. “Now, are you going to come with me to Pride?”

Remy smiled softly and nodded. “I’ll give it a shot.”

#if there's a place i could be #sanders sides fanfiction #remile #emile picani #ts sleep

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spacebatisluvd · 4 years

Text

Damn it. I friggin’ swore I wasn’t going to join a new fandom. And I doubly swore I wasn’t going to write anything for it. But....

I keep thinking...

About Hordak. And Entrapta. And redemption.

And my deep, deep need for hurt/comfort fics....

Which was how this idea was born. I’m not sure I want to write it—especially with the new season coming out—but I’m pretty positive the season won’t go this way. And it scratches that itch. So here’s the idea. Consider it adoptable (though I don’t trust my own self-control at this point, so be warned if you adopt).

During the final confrontation between the rebellion and prime, the women are faced with an ethical dilemma.

What to do with the clones.

With Prime gone, they’re aimless and uncertain. They’re no longer hostile, because that was merely part of their programming. With him gone, they’re confused and unsure what to do with themselves. Not to mention that, without orders to attack, many of them seem, well...nice.

Ethical dilemma number two is even worse—what do they do with Hordak? They found him easily enough; his body still bears the markers from his illness and his hair is blue, not white.

But it’s not him. In so many ways, this isn’t Hordak. He’s been re-programmed, and he was apparently re-programmed to serve Prime in a less militant capacity. (Why? Was there some thread of mercy in this, keeping him from the front lines? Or was this meant as a further humiliation to a man that wouldn’t even recognize it as such?) Either way, Adora finds it incredibly disturbing to see the former Horde leader simply tilt his head up in silent acceptance when she presses a blade to his throat.

So no one really has it in them to kick up a fuss when Entrapta volunteers to take him. That’s one less headache (two, if they count the fact that Entrapta will be taking him home, and though they’re happy to have her back, she is a bit of a nuisance, isn’t she?), and besides, what’s the harm.

They aren’t there to witness Entrapta trying—and failing—to bring Hordak, her Hordak back. She uses the crystal and his eyes flicker briefly, from green to red...but then they’re green again, and he just asks if he’s to serve her now that his brother is gone. Entrapta is familiar with failure, but she’s never failed at something so important before. This cuts her deeply, and she doesn’t know how to respond. In the end, though, there’s not much she can do, is there? She tells him, teary-eyed but trying to be strong—her tears upset him, and she doesn’t want to upset him; this isn’t his fault—that he’s not her servant, he’s her lab partner.

(His ears twitch when she says this, and his mouth quirks just a little. It’s not recognition, but he seems pleased by this new designation. He’s her partner. He doesn’t presume, in the quiet of his own mind, to assume that she considers them equals—and he quickly shuts down the dissenting, dissatisfied voice at the back of his mind, reminding him that Brother had never considered anyone his equal—but he’s happy that she’ll allow him the dignity of the term, even if it’s only a meaningless word.)

Day by day, Hordak and Entrapta grow close. This isn’t Hordak, not really. Yet she can see flashes of him. He gets so frustrated by his limitations, by any signs of failure, and he doesn’t know how to deal with that frustration. He’s still stoic and reserved, but for seemingly different reasons—he doesn’t feel equal to her, so he sometimes has trouble accepting her invitations to eat with her, or when she asks for his opinion with something. He appreciates the armor she develops for him, but he doesn’t understand why she spends so much time and so many resources on a defective clone like him. (He says that he’s ‘invalid’, like he’s a mistake or a computer error. In-VAL-id.) He laughs—once—and is then immediately mortified and ashamed and even frightened.

No, he’s not him...but she likes this person too. And she feels terrible for that. As if she’s betraying Hordak by beginning to befriend this new person. (He won’t respond to his name. He shakes when she uses it and his breathing goes erratic and panicky. She can’t bear to do that to him.) They make progress together, nonetheless.

What follows is unexpected.

Bits and pieces of memory begin to come back to him. And he’s slowly beginning to remember who he was...but that knowledge doesn’t erase the person he’s become. He has to deal with those memories as they come to him. What was done to him—(“He cast me out. Because I’m imperfect. Because I’m invalid.”)—and what he has done to others. It’s a lot for him to deal with, especially because he doesn’t have the mental tools to deal with his emotions. They bubble up and he doesn’t know how to let out the anger and the pain—and how does he get over the shame, when Entrapta won’t even punish him for his failings?

And how does he deal with his new feelings for her as well? New and old, as it turns out. This isn’t the mindless adoration he used to have for his Brother. (Used to? Yes. It’s been replaced by something else. Something angry and seething and he can’t examine it to closely, least he upset himself.) This is something else. Something more. Especially since she seems so determined not to feel the same. Not unless or until he’s ‘Hordak’ again.

They also, of course, have to deal with the other princesses when they visit. Especially now that Hordak can remember them.

Okay, this got way too long. I’m just rambling at this point.

TL;DR Hordak lost his memories, yes, but over time he’s slowly getting them back, and slowly becoming himself again. Not his old self, maybe, but the kind of person he could have been, if he’d been able to shake free of Prime’s influence when he first landed on Etheria. Angst and fluff and hurt/comfort abounds!

#stfu trash #entrapdak #hordapta #fuck me i don’t hame for this fic

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221bshrlocked · 4 years

Text

He Who Desires (2)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Words: 2819

Warnings: heavy flirting. lots of inapropro touching. some dirty talk and a little hint of angst in the end

A/N: The next part will most likely be the last. Or there might be two more parts. I am not sure. Just going with the flow. Comments are always appreciated. Please, feedback will definitely help with my writer’s block.

Previous Part | Next Part

You woke up the next day thinking you’d find awkwardness with Bucky, surprised by how nonchalant he was being about the previous night. You spoke with him and Steve about the new commissions and where the money might be coming from, going over the plan for the hundredth time before telling Steve that the two of you still had everything under control.

“By the way, how did you manage to make them leave last night?” Steve’s question caught you off guard and Bucky could tell you wanted to avoid that talk so he began collecting his files before responding.

“She was just being her friendly self Steve and that’s why they invited her over. Got a problem with that?” Bucky dared to look at you and saw your doe eyes looking right back at him, a part of him entertained by the sudden effect he had on you. He didn’t want to make you feel worse at this moment however, especially in front of your boss. So he turned around and began to walk away, laughing at Steve’s response before descending the stairs to leave.

“None whatsoever. We’ll uhhh talk later.” You shut off the computer before following Bucky to ask him something before he left.

“What time should I be ready? And what’s the dress code?” You pretended to busy yourself with the coffee maker, refusing to look at Bucky until he left.

“I’ll pick you up at six sharp, and don’t worry about the dress code. You’ll be getting something in the next few hours, courtesy of Romanoff and her impeccable taste. See you later doll.” Bucky winked at you before shutting the door behind him and you realized that you had another reason to be nervous because there was no way in hell Nat bought something you would wear.

You tried to distract yourself with numerous things but realized that until the clothes would arrive and the night would be over, you wouldn’t be able to regulate your heart rate. You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the front door bell go off a couple of times, running to it before the person decided to leave.

“Hi I have a package for Ms. Croft.” You stared at the young man before signing his tablet and taking the box, making sure to remember and call Nat because the name wasn’t obvious enough. You cut the tape and opened the box, eyes widening in horror because your hunch was right.

“I’m going to fucking kill you when I see you Nat. Satin? And a self wrap? Fuck!” You threw it away and decided to ignore it until it was time to get ready. Going over the players and the plan one more time, you made sure you recalled all the details before hitting the shower. You got out just in time to answer Bucky’s text, telling him you were almost ready before fixing your hair quickly. You tried to see what you could possibly wear beneath the dress and realized a bra wouldn’t work out. This was getting better by the second.

“Oh what the hell,” you whispered at your reflection before putting on the stilettos and descending the stairs. As you unlocked the door behind you and walked to Bucky’s car, you were surprised to see him standing with your door open. He hadn’t noticed you so far, too busy looking at his phone to see you approaching him. When he heard your footsteps however, he looked up and almost dropped his phone.

“Is this okay?” You reluctantly asked and watched as he slowly approached you. He touched the knot on the side of the dress and smiled up at you before leaning down and kissing your cheek.

“You look stunning Y/N.” Bucky’s smile grew when he saw goosebumps erupt on your skin, stepping aside to let you inside the car before shutting the door behind you. Neither of you said anything for the first few minutes, and Bucky could tell you were more than nervous from your elevated heart rate.

“Listen Y/N, if you’re uncomfortable at any moment throughout the night, let me know and we will leave in a second. I don’t want to force you or anything since you didn’t sign up for this. I’m really sorry I couldn’t stop them from coming last night and for tonight. But I just want you to know that I’ll be next to you all night long alright?” He looked over and saw you nod at him before chugging down some water.

“And before I forget, where can I touch you and where can I not touch you?” Bucky knew there was no nice way of asking the question and he hoped you’d understand his intentions.

“Whatever sells the story Buck. I’m fine with you touching me but not if someone else does.” You hadn’t really thought about the meaning behind your words and flushed under Bucky’s smirk.

“Is that so darlin’?”

“Well, I didn’t mean that I’m- it’s not like there’s any...fuck I didn’t mean it that way it’s just that you’re my dom I mean boss, fuck no no you’re my partner...okay this isn’t how I imagined the night to start.” You suddenly felt Bucky’s hands reaching for your hands and intertwining with them.

“Hey Y/N, it’s only me sweetheart. You don’t gotta worry about nothin alright?” Bucky decided to take it down a notch since you haven’t even made it to the club yet. You seemed to calm down a bit, finding some comfort in the cold hand squeezing your own.

When you finally made it, Bucky parked the car and walked out to open the door for you, throwing the keys to the valet before taking your hands and pulling you close to him. “If I make you uncomfortable at any point, just say you want to use the bathroom and I’ll take it down a notch.”

“You’re already making me uncomfortable,” you whispered more to yourself than him and quickly said nothing when he asked you what you said. Bucky showed his ID at the door and walked right through with his arm wrapped around your waist. You were amazed by how realistic the camouflage looked on his arm and wondered how he managed to not touch anyone with it. Approaching the bar, Bucky asked you what you wanted to drink and ordered the same as well.

“Two Jack and Coke please,” he handed the bartender a twenty dollar bill before scanning the room to see where everyone was. Spotting his boss at the end of the room, he grabbed your drinks and led you easily through the crowd.

Bucky’s arm tightened around your waist as soon as you were in front of everyone, quickly introducing you to everyone before sitting at one end of the couch. You were about to sit next to him when he asked you to take the other side, wanting to make sure that you were on his left so he wouldn’t need to pay extra attention. You, however, hated being near his metal arm. It wasn’t because you were uncomfortable by it, on the contrary, you enjoyed it a little bit too much and were afraid he’d figure this out.

“So James, how come you haven’t talked about Y/N at all? Do we have to find out you have a girlfriend by accident?” Kaleb asked and you couldn’t help but feel everyone’s eyes on you, especially the men. Bucky chuckled before coming up with some excuse about liking to keep his private life private. He turned to you and watched as you sipped your drink before smiling up at him. While Bucky talked and joked with his partners, you watched everyone and pretended to not understand what anyone was talking about, already committing to memory their body language and choice of deals.

Suddenly, Ryan got up and approached the empty seat next to you. You quickly uncrossed your legs and smiled up at him before scooting closer to Bucky.

“So tell me Y/N, how’d you guys meet? Is there like a website for this thing or do you just put flyers out and see if anyone-” Before Ryan could finish his question, Bucky was already standing up and taking you with him. “Sorry but she likes this song a lot, don’t you doll?” You nodded and squeezed his hand before making your way to the dance floor.

“Jesus fucking Christ they have no sense of shame do they?” You asked and laughed when Bucky told you they were lawyers so the answer was a hard no. You turned around and saw everyone staring at the two of you and realized you weren’t even dancing and before you could tell Bucky you should maybe pick it up a bit, you felt his hand hold your wrist and turn your around. Your back hit his chest harshly and you turned enough to see him smiling at you before leaning his head in the crook of your neck.

You weren’t sure if it was the drink or the way Bucky was touching you but you suddenly felt dizzy from the proximity, sighing and melting into his arms as his hands roamed from your neck down to your stomach. Bucky knew he should hold back and not push your limits but then he felt your hands comb in his hair and softly pull on it and he lost all control he had.

You look at me and girl you take me to another place Got me feeling like I'm flying, like I'm outer space Something 'bout your body says 'come and take me' Got me begging, got me hoping that the night don't stop

With every beat, Bucky got bolder with his touches, with one hand wrapped across your chest and laying just above your breast while the other continued to push your hips and roll them against his crotch. He opened his eyes and saw your lips parting, chest beating violently against his hands and eyes shut and focusing on him and he knew right at that moment that this wasn’t all an act. It was more than that. For the two of you.

Bailando, bailando, bailando, bailando Tu cuerpo y el mio llenando el vacío Subiendo y bajando (subiendo y bajando) (Bailando, bailando, bailando, bailando Ese fuego por dentro me está enloqueciendo, me va saturando

As soon as Bucky sang along and bit down on your shoulder, you moaned against him and opened your eyes in horror, knowing he definitely heard that last whine. But then you saw the absolute need in his eyes and convinced yourself that maybe, just maybe, he was reciprocating your feelings. You didn’t bother holding back, continuing to gyrate against his chest and crotch and smiling when you felt something hard poking back at you. Bucky grabbed your neck and twisted it so you could face him and before you could say anything, he was attacking your lips and swallowing your whines, not caring that the two of you were in a public space.

Girl I like the way you move Come and show me what to do People tell me that you want me Girl you got nothing to lose I can't wait no more (Ya no puedo más) I can't wait no more (Ya no puedo más)

You could tell Bucky was struggling with keeping himself together because the more you kissed back, the harder he was grabbing at your waist. Reaching for his flesh hand, you dug your nails into his wrist and almost fell right down when you heard him growl against you. Had he not held you harshly against him, you were sure you would’ve made a scene. Not that you weren’t already. Without missing a beat, Bucky turned you around and pulled you flush against him, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you as close to him as possible. You wanted to look away from his intense gaze but couldn’t, throwing your head on his shoulder when you felt his thigh part your legs and continue to dance shamelessly.

I wanna be contigo And live contigo, and dance contigo Para have contigounanocheloca Y besartu boca I wanna be contigo And live contigo, and dance contigo Para have contigo una noche loca Tú, tremenda loca

Your short dress began to rise up and you wanted to tell him that he should stop but then you heard him whisper the filthiest thing in your ear and as you whined at the sensation, Bucky increased his ministrations, going as far as pushing you down on his thighs. He could feel the wetness seeping through your panties and when he looked down, he could vaguely see a wet spot forming on his pants. Not wanting to embarrass you any further, he slowed down a bit but made sure you weren’t going anywhere. Raising your chin, he looked into your eyes and leaned forward one last time to capture your lips with his own. He swirled his tongue skillfully around yours and chuckled when he felt your wrap your arms around his neck and keep him there.

I look at you and it feels like paradise (estoy en otra dimensón) You got me spinning, got me crazy, got me hypnotized I need your love, I need you closer Keep me begging, keep me hoping that the night don't stop

As the song continued and everyone danced around the two of you, you felt your heart skip a beat when the metal shifted in Bucky’s arm, letting you know he was either ready to fight or nervous.

“Fuck okay, doll I’m just gonna say this and I know I shouldn’t because we’re in the middle of a mission but fuck it. I can’t stop thinkin about you and I know you might think this was because of yesterday but this was long overdue. I keep thinkin’ about your lips and your soft skin and those little fucking sighs whenever I touch you and I can’t hold back anymore. I know I’m technically your boss but who cares. There aren’t any rules about this. Tell me if I’m outta line but just- if you feel the same way, please. I need you darlin’, I crave you every second of every fucking day. And you’re killin’ me with this. Goddamn when you walked out and I saw your nipples poking through this fucking satin, I wanted to take you right back inside and fucking devour you. Got me so hard baby can you feel that? Can you feel how fuckin hard my cock is for you sweetheart?” Bucky pushed your lower half to him and you moaned when you looked down and saw the bulge on the front of his pants.

“Bucky, please...let’s leave. Fuck me, please. I- I’ll be a good doll, I promise.” You hesitated saying the last bit but let out a long breath when you saw his eyes fill with hunger.

“Fucking hell, baby where’ve you been all my life?” Bucky asked before stepping out once he realized the song was done. “Shit, I can’t. Not now sweetheart. We gotta get through tonight first but I promise. I promise I will take you home and worship every inch of your body, beginning with that sweet sweet pussy I can smell.” He gave you a quick peck before walking back to your group and staring down anyone that thought to say something about the two of you. Ryan knew it was best to not ask or flirt with you again after the little show the two of you put on for everyone.

Bucky sat down and pulled you right on top of him to cover his boner, laughing when someone joked about getting him some ice. You asked one of the waiters to get you an iced water to calm yourself and continued to watch everyone talk about their commissions. By the end of the night, you had managed to get close enough to two partners and copy all the data on their cell phones, making sure that everything was sent to Steve and deleted from your phone in case they suspected the two of you. Once everyone was leaving, you stood on the side and waited until the valet brought your car.

Bucky was so busy chatting up the driver that he didn’t notice you were gone until it was too late. He turned around and called your name a couple of times and when he looked down at his phone to track the GPS in your heels, his heart sank. And he realized that the mission wasn’t as easy as the two of you originally thought. Quickly dialing Steve, he got in his car and drove to the house, already coming up with a plan to get you out.

“Steve, Y/N’s been taken.”

#bucky fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #undercover au #bucky undercover au #dom/sub

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samlicker81 · 4 years

Text

Lucky | Part 5

Sam X Reader

Summary: You’re unlucky in love when you find a lost wallet outside a bar and are smitten with the photo on the ID inside. Could your luck have turned, or have you found yourself in the middle of something unfortunate?

Warnings: nightmares, bed sharing, cuddling, angst, dumb flirting

Word Count: 2.9K

Series Masterlist

You finally got the timeline nailed down with Sam filling in the holes. You were abducted from your home somewhere between four and five in the morning on Sunday, after your shift. Kept in pitch blackness, and in and out of consciousness due to a significant concussion and blood loss, there was no way of knowing that the entire day passed. Sam and Dean were able to locate and make it to the nest by nightfall. Monday morning found you here at the motel, after driving through the night to put a significant distance between you and what was left of your captors.

You called Emily, the only person who’d really worry about you, on a burner phone Dean let you use. But since then, the only people you’ve had contact with are these mysterious brothers. If you can call it contact. The past two days have been spent with Sam clicking away at a laptop in the corner of the room and making whispered phone calls in the bathroom, Dean leaving the place as much as possible and coming back smelling of booze or bacon to watch TV too loudly, and you sleeping off your concussion or listening to an audiobook on Sam’s IPod, because reading with your eyes still made you nauseous.

Evening is falling again as you lay on your bed pretending to sleep. Sam has his eyes on you almost every time you look up. It’s already been suffocating enough sharing the space with these two men without the constant puppy eyes.

Besides pain, anger is all you feel. You’re aware that it makes no sense to direct it at your rescuers, but you don’t care. Right now, they’re your new captors and it feels good to meet Sam’s overbearing glances with glares and his questions with silence or sarcasm. You’d snap at Dean too, but he left you alone. Sam keeps trying.

“Sammy. Outside.” Dean pokes his head in the room. You hit the pause button on the book you’re not listening to and strain your ears against the highway noise to catch the conversation drifting through the thin walls.

“I don’t like you going alone,” Sam’s voice rumbles.

“I won’t be alone. Two extra hunters are enough. We gotta get back there before they recoup too much. Or worse, move again.”

“You know what I mean. We don’t know these guys that well. They won’t have your back like I would.”

“I’m a big boy, Sammy. You’re still hurt, anyway. And you have to stay here with her. She trusts you more.”

You scoff at the same time Sam does. “She hates me, dude.” He mumbles something else too quiet for you to hear.

“You gotta stop doing this to yourself. None of this is your fault.”

“If I’d left her alone, they never would have come after her. They grabbed her the very next night after I staked out her place. Sebastian made it clear that it wasn’t a coincidence.” The guilt is heavy in his voice. You feel some of your own tighten in your chest. You might be being too hard on him.

“You can’t live like that, shutting everyone out. People get hurt whether you’re around or not. It’s not a crime to like someone every once in a while.”

“Dean…”

“Whatever, man. I’m meeting up with the guys now to game plan. I’ll be back late and then we leave bright and early.” Dean shuffles a bag and then his footsteps begin moving away from the door. “Don’t let her push you around too much while I’m gone!” he yells and then the car door slams.

You snap your eyes shut as the door clicks open. He doesn’t even try to be discreet when he comes around the bed and leans over you. He steps away and sighs, heading to the bathroom where you can hear him quietly place an order for Chinese food. He remembers to ask for no mushrooms in your stir fry.

He flicks off the lights and tiptoes back to his corner, so he doesn’t disturb your fake slumber. He clicks at his computer, unaware of your turmoil.

A swirl of contrition, doubt, and frustration makes your head hurt. This time all of it is pretty much directed at yourself. Every spiteful action you’ve taken towards Sam comes back and pummels you in the gut. Somewhere in the back of your mind you knew he never really deserved it. He’d only ever been nice. So annoyingly nice. Because he liked you? You press a thumb between your eyebrows, pushing away, not for the first time, the feelings you had when you met him. You feel like a silly teenager, denying your feelings, wanting to cry into a pillow, avoiding Sam as much as possible.

You’re a grown up. You can apologize. Just not right now.

You’re asleep before Dean gets back. The new unease in the presence of Sam, knowing you should talk to him, is making your head throb with a vengeance.

It isn’t the first time your dreams have taken a dark turn. You’re always back in that dark room. At least that’s where it feels like. You never saw the room where you were tied up, and your dream displays that same darkness. Every sense but sight is heightened. You hear every movement and hiss echo around you. You’re not tied up, but you can’t move. Hands grab at you, pulling hard at different limbs. Voices laugh at your cries as you lay helpless, only feeling the damage they leave to your lifeless form.

Sam wakes with a start when you cry out. The too small cot creaks as he extricates his aching body from it. Dean snorts loudly and groans, pulling a pillow over his head. Sam comes to your side and hesitates. Your face is scrunched up in obvious discomfort. His fingers twitch, wanting to smooth the lines between your brows. He wills himself to step away instead.

He’s almost back in bed when you start panting fast. This time he gives in to instinct, wrapping a hand around your ankle through the bedspread.

“Shh…It’s just a dream.”

The clawing hands turn to gentle caresses. Stroking your leg from knee to ankle, pushing hair from your forehead.

You blink and find moonlight streaming through cracks between thick green curtains. You shift in the sheets, grateful that you have control of your body again.

“You okay?” You jump hard at the gentle whisper. Sam’s hands move away from you and into his lap, but he stays seated on the edge of the bed by your feet. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. You were having a nightmare again.”

You blink a couple of times at his shadowed face and then burst into tears.

The mattress rocks as he settles his large frame next to you, and you let him pull you into his arms. The gesture wrenches a quiet sob out of you. “I know, I get them too. It’s awful,” he whispers into your hair, a warm hand moving in soothing circles on your back.

“I--I’m so scared…all the time.” The admission chokes out of you and into his soaked shirtfront.

He pulls up your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Your breath hitches. Somehow the affectionate statement both warms your bones and twists like a sharp knife in your chest at the same time.

“Sam, I…I’m really sorry.”

“What?” He laughs in genuine shock. You pull back a little.

“You’ve gone out of your way to be nice to me and I’ve gone out of my way to make you miserable. You don’t deserve it,” you sniff. “I’m afraid. And I’m angry. But not at you.”

“You’ve gone through a lot.”

You roll your still teary eyes and let out a sad laugh, “Ugh, like that.” You sigh and pull your good arm out of his grasp to wipe at your nose. “Thank you for saving me. And thank you for keeping me safe. Even from my own dreams.” You try to laugh again, but it doesn’t come out right. You shudder and his arms flex automatically, pulling you into him again. You breathe in his warmth and clean linen scent. You’re suddenly very aware of how intimate the embrace is, being in your bed, and your stomach flutters. His heart beats too fast beneath your ear and you smile a little. He feels it too, but he doesn’t let go. You can’t deny it feels right.

“You get nightmares too?” You break the silence; it feels so good to talk.

“Yeah, it comes with the territory. Everything is different when you know what’s really out there. When you look evil in the face.”

“But this is what you do? You and your brother? You…hunt things?”

He chuckles dryly, “The family business. We never knew anything different, me and Dean. Our dad was a hunter. When we woke up afraid there was a monster in the closet, he came in with a shotgun.”

“Oh…I can’t imagine.”

“It’s not so bad. We save people, do what the cops can’t.” You nod against his chest, sniffling quietly. “You think you can sleep again?”

“Yeah, maybe. I feel like I haven’t slept in days. I know it looks like I just lay here and sleep all the time, but every time I close my eyes I’m back there. I feel like a kid afraid of the dark.”

“A very rational fear, really.” His long hair flops over his smiling face as he relinquishes you to your pillow and pulls the covers up. Your fingers still grip his hand. “Do you want me to stay?”

“Would you?”

“Let’s see…tiny cot, or pretty girl?” he quips, sliding under the covers.

You settle into his warmth, anxiety melting away. Your cheeks are still hot with the blush his flirty remark brought on when you fall back asleep.

Dean trips over the cot, just a few steps shy of slipping out. He squints in the still mostly dark room, finding the cot empty. His stomach flips for a second, head whipping around. He breathes a relieved chuckle, finding his brother deep in sleep with you barely visible in his arms. “Sammy, you dog…” He hikes his bag back up onto his shoulder and shuts the door quietly behind him.

You’re alone when you wake up from the best sleep you’ve had in days. Your head feels markedly clearer as you sit up.

The shower shuts off and your heart flutters. How quickly your body’s involuntary response has changed at the thought of Sam. He strolls out, lower half wrapped in a towel, top half bare and still beaded with water droplets. Your blush heats all the way down to your shoulders. He’s perfectly muscled, and you glimpse a tattoo brandishing his upper left chest before you look pointedly up at his face. His smile is just as disarming as his nakedness.

“You’re up. How’d you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” you rub your eyes, still a little puffy from your cry. “I didn’t bother you?”

“Just one night on this thing is one too many; I’ll take a bed hog any day.” He folds the rickety cot in half easily with one hand, ignoring your indignant scoff. He grabs some clothes out of a duffel on the floor and heads back to the bathroom. “Get dressed,” he throws over his shoulder, “We’re going out.”

You don’t have a lot of options, but Dean did all right on his shopping trip. You move as quickly as one good arm will let you, excited to leave the much-resented motel room for the first time. Soon you’re dressed in some comfortable leggings and a T-Shirt, teeth brushed, and knots picked out of your hair with Sam’s tiny comb.

“Ready.” You beam. Sam, fully dressed now and stretched out on the tidy bed where he slept beside you, looks up from his laptop. He smiles back, pulling glasses off of his nose. You like the change: smiling when he looks at you instead of stares full of concern. He probably appreciates the lack of glares himself.

“A movie?” He asks, eyebrows raised.

“What, too regular for you?”

He laughs, “No, it sounds perfect actually.” He pulls out a familiar leather wallet and throws some cash on the table between your empty dishes. “I just can’t remember the last time I went to the movies.”

“We passed a theater a few blocks down.” You shrug, not ready to call it a day and hole back up in the motel.

“Lead the way.” He gestures, standing. It felt like the day at the library again. Being with him was easy. If you didn’t both look like you’d been in a car accident, you could almost imagine nothing crazy had ever happened.

The comforting, buttery smell of movie theater plasters a grin on your face. “I almost wish we hadn’t just eaten. Popcorn is my favorite.”

“Candy guy.” He smiles down at you.

“Oh yeah?”

“Ooohhh yeah. Anything sour.”

You walked into the very next movie they had showing, some sci-fi thing that you never would have picked in a million years. It was mediocre. Most of the day’s events had been mediocre, running errands for restocking the first aid kit, snack bag, plus some extra stuff for you to get by. And then an okay lunch followed by a passable movie.

It was the best day you’d had in a long time.

Your head hurts and your fingers are like sausages sticking out from your sling, but you can’t wipe a smile off your face as you walk back to the motel. You want to lace your fingers into the large hand swinging next to you. Besides some light flirting, everything has been above bar. You’re trying to work out a reason why he’d sleep next to you again instead of a perfectly good unused bed when his phone rings. He stops in his tracks.

“Dean, finally.” You can’t hear the other end, but his face darkens. “Okay. Yeah, we have more. Be careful.” He hangs up.

It’s him that reaches for your hand, but not in the way you pictured it. His long legs move quickly, pulling you behind him.

“The nest moved. They could be anywhere.” His words shoot ice-cold fear down your spine.

You struggle to keep up with his pace the whole way until he finally stops in the parking lot of the motel. He drops quickly to a knee. Is he tying his shoe? You’re about to question him, antsy to get inside and out of the darkening night, when he pulls up his pant leg and unstraps a long knife.

Shielded behind his back, you watch him thrust open the motel door in one quick movement. You stand in the corner while he checks the rest of the room. He grabs a bag and quickly heads for the door again.

“Stay here,” he directs firmly.

“Sam—” You hear the fear constricting your voice. His hand stops on the doorknob; the concerned eyes are back.

“I know. I’ll only be a minute, I promise.” And then he’s gone.

He’s true to his word, returning for you soon after he left. After being assured it’s safe, you reluctantly follow him back outside and around to the back of the building. He directs you to a strange smelling fire burning in a metal trashcan.

“It’s not perfect, but it can help throw them off. The smell.” With that, you move closer, reaching out a shaking hand to try and let the warmth draw the fear from you. His arm wraps around you and you lean into his side.

You stand quietly this way until the fire is down to smoking embers. “Come on,” he whispers, gently bringing you back to reality. He pulls the trashcan with him to the door. You sit on the end of the bed while he disables the smoke alarm, staring at the sliver of exposed skin above his belt as he reaches up with long arms.

The trashcan is left in the room to smoke it up while you both sit on the curb just outside. The smell is still heavy around you as smoke leaks from the open window. You’re grateful for his arm around you; the night is cold without the fire.

“I’m sorry. I want this to be over too.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” You only rest your aching head on his shoulder for a second before you snap it back up at his scoff. “Sam, I don’t blame you for any of this. I’d be dead without you.”

“You’d be at home still believing monsters aren’t real without me.”

You continue to stare at him, trying to catch his eye. “Well, I’m glad I met you.” It comes out angrier than you wanted it to. He finally meets your eyes. There is sadness there, but something else too.

In a second his lips are on yours. A shocked sigh leaves your mouth and enters his as his lips part. Your surprise and remaining dregs of fear melt away with the insistent heat of his mouth on yours. Too soon, he pulls away.

You’ve only just blinked open your heavy lids and he’s already pulled the metal can from the room and slammed a lid over it. He peers into the haze and looks back at you, eyes dark.

“It’s not too bad in there.” He jerks his head towards the open door and reaches out a hand for you.

#Sam Winchester #SPN #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #bed sharing #cuddling #angst #sam x reader #series

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a-patheticapathetic · 4 years

Text

ID - The Background World

Nine Inch Nails - Add Violence

It’s been probably about 3 years since I’ve written one of these single-song music video ideas down, given that I haven’t done any since starting Film for the Blind. And I’m not necessarily stalling that, by the way. I have a pretty good idea on how to finish God is in the Radio, a decent amount of planning for Another Love Song, and the end of that album is what I’m really looking forward to. In the meantime a lot of my creative energy has been going toward writing music (yay!!!!!!!!!!!!!). But recently this song has been giving me a lot of ideas that I don’t want to keep cooped up in my head any longer. Let’s go.

The song (as well as the rest of this fantastic EP) is about simulation theory - the idea that we live in a simulated reality, controlled by unseen and likely malevolent forces that can end, reverse, or restart us at any moment. The music video will tie in directly to that.

The intro begins with a close-up of the main character (details, appearance, etc up to you) sleeping in a void. They face the camera straight-on and vertically, although they appear to be sleeping on their side. As the intro progresses to the verse, their room beings to appear around them as the camera slowly zooms out. It isn’t a smooth fade; objects and furniture glitch and render in individually, like the textures and models from a video game. The character begins speaking with the lyrics, and opens their eyes with the bassline. Some things are still popping in behind them. At the line “What am I supposed to do?”, they begin to get up out of bed. The camera tracks and rotates with their torso as they do so, making it look like the world is turning around them. They throw on a proper shirt and pants, and head out of their room, turning 90 degrees into a hallway. The camera does not track this horizontal rotation, and so we change to a profile view of the character.

At the line “I’m going into you again”, the character reaches their kitchen/living room, which has a large window facing the camera. Here we are introduced to the world of this video. It is a soft kind of cyberpunk; no flying cars, no cyber police, no body augmentation. Technology seems to be only a couple of decades ahead of what we have today. The main difference is in presentation. The window shows a cramped, choking cityscape of obsidian black buildings with bright multicolor stripes. Cars and aboveground trains move at a frantic place, all colored different shades of white and grey. It’s impossible to see the sky or even tell what time of day it is due to the frequency of monolithic skyscrapers; the only indication of weather is the rain coming down. Many of the appliances in the character’s apartment share the black/white with monochromatic stripe design of the infrastructure outside. It is clear that it is a dystopia, even though no crime, dirt, or suffering is immediately apparent; it just looks devoid of soul.

The character goes through a routine that is absurdly sped up due to the smart devices in their kitchen. Coffee pops out of the counter as they enter the room; they grab it without even looking. A news station appears on one of the walls and many other screened devices turn on. The character ignores them all and goes to the window, staring out into the city. At the beginning of the line “ I will keep myself awake”, they turn away, putting the cup of coffee down without drinking any of it. They grab a messenger bag from a couch or jacket rack, step into their shoes, and exit their apartment. The door closes itself behind them and appears to lock with two blinks of a red light on the handle. They walk down the hallway and get into a glass-encased elevator. It goes up without the press of a button as the strings come in and song transitions to the next verse.

This shot begins with the camera facing directly at the outside of the elevator doors as the character comes out of them, no longer mouthing the lyrics. They move towards the camera, which keeps a constant distance. They walk down a long hallway which appears to be lit well, despite the lack of light sources above and the seemingly flat black side panels all along the walls. As the verse plays, the camera slowly rotates 180 degrees around the character at a constant speed. The rotation is synchronized with the song; when we reach the full 180 (viewing from directly behind the character), it will be exactly after “...is always bleeding through”. As the camera rotates around the character, it is revealed that each black panel on the wall is actually a pane of polarized glass. Each one only lets light through when viewed head-on, from a perpendicular angle. So when we are viewing our character from the side, we are able to see out the window. Outside it is a grey-blue cloudy morning. We can see this now because we are far above the skyline, and although there are still several black spires visible, they all appear to be shorter than the building the character is in.

The character walks down the hallway briskly, and with intention. As they do, they begin fiddling with something inside their bag. A little over halfway through the verse, the hallway ends at an an automated security checkpoint. The character quickly and smoothly drops the bag onto the conveyor belt while keeping something hidden in the palm of their hand. They appear to press in on the object as it goes through the scanner, immediately dropping it down the sleeve of their shirt as they raise their arms and walk through the detector. A couple of rings rotate around them for a couple of seconds, but no alarms sound and they continue walking through. They drop their arms, subtly catching the sleeve object in their hand again, and pick up the bag from the opposite end of the scanner in one fluid motion and without breaking stride. After rounding a corner, they release the breath they had been holding, and drop the object into the bag. They come to a closed black door with a keycard scanner, and after a look over their shoulder, they pull something metal out of their mouth and begin working at the handle. They are noticeably shakier and less self-assured at this point, but after a moment of struggle, they manage to turn something in the handle. They then reach into the bag and pull out a palm-sized circuit board covered in various electronic components, before waving it in front of the scanner. A green light turns on above the door and the character immediately opens it and quickly disappears inside. In the song, the door closes behind them exactly before the first “Are you sure?”.

The screen is black for this second, aside from an oscilloscope-like white line stretching across. It reacts the the audio of the song as a waveform. When the drums come back in, the camera begins panning to the right of this wave, at a slow and fixed pace.

We are now in another profile view of the room the character has just broken into. In contrast to the city outside, this room and all of its equipment looks like a computer lab from the mid-20th century, complete with beige walls, square ceiling panels, and massive yellowed plastic computer towers. There are only a few sputtering fluorescent lights left; the rest are burnt out, casting the room in dark shadows. The character makes their way over the old dust and cables cautiously, and they appear to be looking for something. The camera does not follow them now; it continues dollying right at a constant pace as the main character ventures further into the room. As the camera reaches the far end of the room and stops, it reveals that the last monitor at the end of a long table is on. The character notices this and quickly makes their way to it. The camera zooms in slowly on the screen. It’s covered in dust and unreadable until they wipe the screen, revealing three words in blinking red text: ARE YOU SURE? The character reads this and looks down at the keyboard, locating that old L-shaped enter key. They hesitate for a moment, before pressing it.

Immediately, the screen goes black and shuts off. The lights then begin to flicker more seriously, and the building seems to shake slightly. The character stands back for a moment in waiting before the building begins shaking more violently, prompting them to hurry back to the door and leave. The camera does not immediately follow, staying on the now empty screen as bits of plaster fall from the ceiling and the light of the opening door stretches over the keyboard.

At the third “Are you sure?”, we return to following the character’s torso, now outside the room. They walk cautiously at first, but as the shaking continues they give up the pretense of innocence and start running. It’s fine, as all the security measures seems to have lost power. The walk-through detector is blocked because the metal rings are stuck in place; the character instead jumps onto the conveyor and vaults over the scanner to get past. They sprint down the long corridor, now panicking. We reverse the 180 degree camera rotation here. Thankfully the elevator doors are open, and when they get inside, gasping for air, it takes them down to ground level.

At the fifth “Are you sure?”, the elevator reaches the ground floor, the camera pointed at the outside of the doors. The character, noticeably pale, steps out and looks around. The lobby is filled with people who seem to be moving about business as usual, but the shaking hasn’t stopped. It’s much lesser here at street level but it’s certainly still happening. Nobody else seems to notice, however. The character stumbles through the lobby, trying to steady themselves, but the shaking is still getting worse. Drinks rattle, a light flickers, and even a bottle falls off a shelf and shatters; nobody pays any mind. Upon witnessing this, the character quickly makes their way through the crowd and to the door in order to get out onto the street. It should be noted that upon reaching the lobby, a person in the crowd mouths along with each “Are you sure?”. As the song progresses into the outro, the amount of people that do so will multiply until by the last repetition, every person aside from the main character on-screen will be saying it.

(When the character leaves the building the camera begins to very slowly spin around them, as well as gradually lower in angle.) Outside, things aren’t any better. Traffic is bumper-to-bumper, and people move briskly to limit the time they spend in the rain. Still, nobody reacts to the shaking. Even as the puddles begin to ripple and splash and the cars bounce on their suspensions. An LED sign swivels and falls from its second-story perch; the character is the only one to flinch. As they see all this, they begin walking faster, before running, before all-out sprinting. The camera’s rotation speeds up with the character’s hysteria. The crowd and traffic seem to gradually disappear as the frame moves away from them. We follow the character into the middle of the street, now devoid of cars and other people.

At the final “Are you sure?”, the camera stops rotating and moving entirely, and the main character runs out of frame to the right. It then straightens out to no longer be a worm’s-eye-view, and zooms and dollys to the right slowly. The character reappears in frame, crawling backwards and to the left while staring directly ahead of them at something off-screen. As a wave of distortion overcomes the song, so too does one begin to affect the visuals. Right before the song cuts completely, the character raises an arm as if to defend themselves, or shield their eyes. The few seconds of strange distortion after that appear to be actual video glitches, with images of the switchboard taken from the This Isn’t The Place video spliced in.

Okay, that’s the specifics of what I have planned for the main song. A lot of the actual content of the outro looping is up to you and your imagination. Here are my guidelines:

For the duration of the loop, the main character is running from right to left. They appear to be running away or toward something with desperation. The camera follows them but not like in a way we’ve seen yet; instead of the center of the screen tracking them, imagine there is a point on the screen that moves from the right side to the left side over the course of the loop. The character is centered on that point. While they can be running at any speed in the world around them, they will always be moving at the same speed across the frame. The reach the far side of the frame right at the end of the loop. They are reaching out to something but it is just barely off-screen by the end of the loop.

Now take that loop and add 52 more frames to it. What you reveal in those frames is up to you. Each time the loop is repeated, remove a frame from the beginning and extend the ending by that one frame. Also, each time the loop repeats, add some kind of distortion to the visuals. It can be static, video/image artifacting, texture rendering issues, CGI rendering issues, objects disappearing or lowering polygon count, shaders or light sources disappearing, etc. Essentially, make it look like the resources and source code for the simulation are breaking down. Start with the background and be subtle for the first few loops. Get more aggressive and start hitting the foreground after that, and by the end it should be a terrible and undiscernable mess that not even the main character was spared from.

- - - - - - - - -

Holy hell that took 3 hours to write, but it’s there. It’s done. It’s out of my head and onto paper. Thanks for reading.

#idea #music #music video #NIN #Nine Inch Nails #add violence #the background world

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paladin-lynx · 4 years

Text

Prompt: “What’s so funny?” with your Human SQUIP AU

I’m sorry this took me for-freaking-ever to get to. Life has gotten in the way lately and my motivation has been low, but I’ve been thinking a lot about BMC lately so here’s the piece! I decided to go with this prompt instead of “Can you forgive me?” since I used that one for another piece. Hope you enjoy! I feel like I’m a bit out of practice at the moment with writing, heh.

Send me a character/ship/fandom and a prompt and I’ll write something!

Fandom: Be More Chill (musical)

Ships: None

Setting: Post-musical AU where the SQUIP somehow returned as a human and was redeemed/rehabilitated by Jeremy (with the help of the rest of the squad), and lives with him having had nowhere else to go. He looks pretty similar to how he looked in Jeremy’s head, and physically he looks to be around college age.

There were a lot of characteristics that Squip still had that carried over from his supercomputer self, but the most noticeable one was his constant need for order.

Jeremy had a feeling it was because of how perfectionist the SQUIP had been, wanting to convert everyone’s emotions into neat little lines of code. That, and now that Squip had his own emotions to deal with, he desperately needed to feel in control of something as he adjusted to being a plain old human. Now that he was actually out in the real world instead of tucked away in Jeremy’s head just seeing everything through the boy’s eyes, it was no doubt everything seemed so much louder and more intimidating. And it was obvious that Squip didn’t like the fact that he could no longer just glance into the future and see the most plausible outcomes, even if he was starting to accept it as his new reality.

After all these months, Jeremy had learned that Squip would be doing one of a handful of things when he got back to the house after school: 1) sleeping, 2) hiding away in his room on his computer, or 3) cleaning. The Heere household hadn’t been this clean since Jeremy’s mother had left, and even then she had never been this much of a neat freak. Jeremy was half-convinced that one day Squip would run out of things to clean and he’d end up on a ladder just scrubbing the ceiling or something ridiculous like that. Jeremy had on many occasions wanted to joke to Squip about how absurd such an action would be, but he was worried Squip would do that thing where he would chuckle and then suddenly stop, get a thoughtful look in his eyes, rub his chin, and then wonder aloud if that was perhaps a good idea. Jeremy’s father had a habit of doing it, and Jeremy knew that he’d inherited it from him, and unfortunately it seemed Squip had fallen victim to the trend, as well.

Squip often got into a ‘zone’ when he was cleaning. Jeremy knew that it had a calming effect for him, and in a way he understood. It was something that allowed Squip to not have to acknowledge anything else happening around him and even the physical aspect of forcing the dirt off of something could act as stress relief. Jeremy likened it to how he and Michael used video games to escape reality for a little while, and when something was on their minds, maybe sometimes they pressed the buttons on their controllers a bit harder than usual or jerked this way and that more sporadically as they moved their characters across the screen. Actually, as of late, Jeremy also had that experience of going into the ‘zone’ when he coded. It was definitely a weird aftereffect of having had a supercomputer wedged into his brain, since he had never in his life even touched any coding language – except for maybe when he and Michael played around with the HTML on their Tumblr blog themes, but even then it had just been messing around and they’d joked that they had absolutely no idea what they were doing. But on a whim a little while after the SQUIPcident, Jeremy had installed an IDE and just messed around and somehow just knew what to do. He wasn’t an expert by any means, but he definitely knew more than anyone who’d never touched a programming textbook or even a simple tutorial online had any right to know.

Much like how Jeremy sometimes had to nudge Squip’s shoulder and tell him that hours had passed since he’d started cleaning, Squip often had to poke his head into Jeremy’s room and tell him that he’d been hunched over his computer – “even if I’m not shocking you anymore, I’d still recommend fixing your posture” – for God only knew how long.

When one was in the ‘zone’, though, it was easy to not really be aware of what people were saying to you. Jeremy and Michael found it hilarious that for someone who had once had the entire Internet at his figurative fingertips, Squip could be adorably oblivious sometimes. He fell for jokes, got confused at metaphors that he took literally, and oftentimes references flew right over his head until he took a moment. But when he was in the ‘zone’, it took even longer for him to realize he hadn’t caught on to something.

Michael, of course, was oft the one to take advantage of this and would nearly piss himself laughing as a result.

It was spring break, so Michael was over at Jeremy’s house more than normal. It was also the week of Passover, so the Heeres were doing their best to keep kosher for the holiday. Michael every year always incredulously asked how anyone could go a full seven days without bread, and every year Jeremy always just snickered at him. Squip had also been doing his best to uphold the restrictions for the holiday, but considering he was picky enough as it was when it came to food, Jeremy and his father were giving him a pass if he decided to ‘cheat’ – which Jeremy usually ended up doing a couple of times during the week each year anyway. But Jeremy wouldn’t forget how excited Squip had been to participate in the seders.

But because of the holiday and the rules about food, Mr. Heere had rearranged where they had everything in the kitchen, including Squip’s precious cleaning supplies. In hindsight, he and Jeremy probably should’ve realized that this would cause Squip to throw something of a fit, but they were so used to their routine every year that they hadn’t really thought of it.

In the midst of one of their hours-long video gaming sessions, Jeremy and Michael finally emerged from Jeremy’s room to pad downstairs and grab a snack. As much as Michael liked to tease Jeremy about not being able to eat a decent amount of his go-tos during Passover, Jeremy knew that Michael was a complete sucker for his father’s homemade desserts, just like on all the other holidays.

“Rich told me we should try a Nuzlocke one day,” Jeremy was saying as they made their way towards the kitchen.

Michael winced at the suggestion. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress of it. And I damn-well know I’d cry if we lost any of our Pokémon.”

Jeremy smiled. “Then we’d just have to work extra carefully to make sure that doesn’t happen. And then we can rub it in Rich’s face.”

“You act as if he wouldn’t cry if one of his team died. Or you, for that matter!”

They snickered to themselves before halting as they got into the kitchen and saw Squip already in there, rummaging through the cabinets and muttering rapidly under his breath, switching between English and Japanese. Jeremy could only understand bits and pieces between how quickly Squip was speaking and also because he only knew so much anyway – another really weird side effect of having the SQUIP in his mind, and Jeremy had been told on multiple occasions that he himself sometimes randomly switched to Japanese when he was upset – but he definitely picked up on a few swears.

“Uh, hey, S,” Jeremy greeted carefully. He blinked when Squip didn’t even acknowledge him, closing the cabinet he was riffling through to open and scrounge through another.

Michael rolled his eyes, leaning on the kitchen island. “Yo, Squip-ster. What are you doing?”

Still no response. Michael thought for a moment. “What’s 24 times 83?”

“1,992,” Squip replied without missing a beat. That seemed to drag him back to reality and he paused, blinking, before he raised an eyebrow over his shoulder at the two boys. “Do you need something?”

“We were getting something to eat, but now we’re wondering what you’re up to,” Jeremy told him, tilting his head. “Are you okay? Are you…looking for something?”

“I can’t find my cleaners and sponges.” Squip turned away from them to continue looking through the cabinet. Jeremy had to smile a little as Squip referred to the supplies as his, considering Jeremy and Mr. Heere weren’t exactly known for keeping the house squeaky-clean. Jeremy’s room had never been cleaner than when he’d had his SQUIP, since it made him clean up the mess pretty much on day one. “I know your father moved some things around to hide all your chametz”—Jeremy couldn’t believe how natural Hebrew sounded coming from Squip when Jeremy had been learning it for years and still only sounded half-decent, but then again he supposed SQUIPs were programmed to be able to speak any language—“but I didn’t think he’d rearranged them to the point I wouldn’t be able to find anything…”

Jeremy would’ve loved to help, but truth be told, he only knew where the Passover foods were. In previous years, he’d just open a random cabinet if he needed to sneak a cookie or the like and hope he found something good. His father had some sort of system for hiding all the unkosher stuff and presumably for moving everything else to make room, but Jeremy had no idea what it was. He hardly knew where the cleaning supplies other than the dish soap were, and the dish soap was out in the open next to the sink.

Jeremy opened his mouth to apologize or maybe offer to help, but Michael suddenly tapped his arm and looked at him with a grin, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Jeremy immediately knew this wasn’t going to end well – you learned a thing or two when you knew someone for over twelve years – but he also knew just as well he was powerless to stop it from happening.

“Did you check under there?” Michael asked, biting back snickers. Jeremy rolled his eyes as he leaned on the island beside his friend and watched Squip rummage. As easy to trick as he could be, there was absolutely no way Squip would fall for that, especially not after Rich and Jake had gotten him with ‘updog’ just a few weeks earlier.

Squip peeked over at them again, brow furrowed when he didn’t see Michael gesturing to anything, and he quickly turned back to his task. “Under where?”

Jeremy’s jaw nearly dropped and his gaze snapped to Michael, who had pressed his hands over his own mouth to try and muffle his cackling. It was just a stupid and admittedly childish joke, but somehow the fact that Squip – witty, clever, intelligent Squip – hadn’t caught himself made it so much better. Jeremy quickly ducked his head to try and stifle his own giggling.

Squip, however, somehow still not realizing what had happened, just looked over at them again. Even if they weren’t laughing out loud, it was painfully obvious they were nearly choking in their attempts to keep quiet. “What’s so funny?”

They both just looked at him, grinning, Michael nearly with tears in his eyes, before realization seemed to dawn on Squip and he rolled his eyes, huffing. “Oh. Are you proud of yourselves?”

That seemed to break both boys and they burst out laughing, having to brace themselves on the island to keep themselves from falling over. Jeremy peeked over to find Squip leaning against the counter across from them, arms crossed loosely against his chest in that ‘chill’ way of his, a little smile on his face despite Jeremy and Michael laughing at his expense. Squip had always been good-humored about these kinds of things. Maybe a little embarrassed, but never upset. Just teasing in return with a promise he wouldn’t fall for it again. Seeing the people he cared about so happy seemed to be worth the slight humiliation.

It took a few minutes, but the two boys finally collected themselves, gasping for breath. Michael even had to pull off his glasses to rub his eyes and flashed Squip a smirk as he pushed them back on. “Sorry, dude,” he said, not sounding even a tiny bit sorry. “It was just too good an opportunity to pass up.”

Squip shook his head, chuckling softly. “I should’ve known better with you.” He let out a sigh, peeling himself away from the counter and putting one hand on his hip. “Well, if you’re feeling so sorry, you two can help me search.”

Jeremy sighed in turn, glancing at Michael. “I guess we owe him that, at least.”

Michael whined, lolling his head back. “Do we?”

“You do,” Squip insisted, waving them over. “Come on, enough with the drama. I’m not asking you to solve world hunger.”

Michael groaned once more but ultimately gave in as Squip cooed at them again in that ever-persuasive way of his. Even as a human, Squip had retained his ability to be rather convincing. It didn’t take more than a few minutes between the three of them to locate the cabinet that Mr. Heere had stuffed the cleaning supplies into, hiding behind a few boxes of forbidden candies that Jeremy had to keep himself from digging into.

“There, done and done!” Michael declared, wiping his hands clean of nonexistent dirt. “Come on, Jere, let’s grab something to eat and get back to our gaming sesh.”

Jeremy nodded, but before he could go anywhere, Squip draped his arms around the boys’ shoulders, pulling them over. He smirked at them. “Not so fast, sluggers,” he nearly purred. “I think you still owe me, so now you can help me clean.”

“What?!” Michael protested. “S, come on!”

“There’s probably nothing left to clean anyway,” Jeremy added. “If you clean the house any more than you already have, you’re gonna end up scrubbing away the paint or whatever.”

“Then there won’t be much you have to do before I let you run back to your games.” Squip gave them a little squeeze before releasing them. He handed Michael a sponge and Jeremy a bottle of spray. “Come on, then. Consider it a life lesson, courtesy of me.”

Jeremy scoffed. “How generous.”

Squip smiled, grabbing a rag for himself. “It’ll do you good. And it’ll be nice to spend time with me instead of in front of a TV screen, won’t it?”

(Author’s Note: I got the idea for the stupid “under where” joke from this comic)

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the-delta-42 · 5 years

Text

War Circle 2

Michael followed Caline into her apartment.

“Thanks for letting me stay until I’ve found a place of my own.” Said Michael, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, “I’ll be gone before you know it.”

“It’s fine.” Said Caline, going to her computer, her eyes elsewhere.

Michael looked at her and frowned.

“Is everything alright?” Michael asked, walking over to Caline.

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Said Caline, unconvincingly.

Michael gave her a look that made her groan and turn to face him, “You know that Principle Damocles gave you a list of students that can’t be punished?”

“Yeah, some kid whose parents are bankers, the mayor’s daughter and the child of a diplomat, why?” Michael cocked his head.

“Two of them are in my class,” Said Caline, “and in order to punish them, I have to punish the whole class, it doesn’t help that Boaa and I have a mental link and he’s telling me to kill them every time I start to get angry at them.”

“So, you remain passive to prevent yourself from killing them.” Said Michael, Wynnter resting on his shoulder.

Wynnter looked at the Snake Kwami, “Boaa, you know that our main objective is to remain hidden, no matter what.”

The snake only said, “Meh.” Before he shoves three whole grapes into his tiny mouth.

“That will always scare me, no matter what.” Said Michael, watching Boaa’s jaw unhinge.

“It’s not the worst thing he eaten.” Said Caline, turning to face Michael, “I have some spare blankets in the closet, you can have the couch.”

Michael nodded, quietly walking over to the closet. Caline had the sinking feeling that Michael wasn’t telling her something.

Marinette quietly growled in frustration. Her dad and Michael did not last part on the best terms five years ago, Marinette didn’t remember what the argument was but she knew that it had caused the relationship between her father and brother to become very strained, to the point where Michael had ceased all contact with them until he reappeared a couple of days ago and even then, he avoided actually stepping foot into the bakery.

Marinette considered contact Toby and Skye, but Toby was on tour and Skye was in the middle of a case. Marinette huffed, thinking back to when she found out that Michael was now working at her school.

Marinette went stiff, Michael was close to Ms. Bustier, he was fond of her, Marinette had seen the type fondness once before and that was between her parents.

Marinette swallowed as she started to pull up a plan on getting her dad and brother on good terms again.

A floor below, Tom was quietly cleaning the kitchen of the bakery. Ever since that nasty girl from Marinette’s class returned, Marinette had started to become more stressed, from school, from being the class president, from her designs, from her duties as Ladybug. Tom frowned, he and Sabine had known Marinette was Ladybug for a while now, having caught Tikki as she was raiding the cookie jar in the kitchen. The little God had tried to pass herself off as a cat, that could float and was bright red covered in spots.

Tom was vaguely aware of the television reporting the day’s Akuma attack.

“An attempt to gain Ladybug’s Miraculous was foiled by two unseen before heroes who departed the scene shortly after the Akuma was dealt with.”

“Remove your hands from my kin.” Came a recording of the incident, Tom poked his head out from the Bakery and looked at the TV screen. The owner of the voice looked around Michael’s age and wore what looked like a casual suit under his trench coat, Tom squinted, noting that the amount of weaponry gave him a rather heavy-set appearance.

Chat Noir then appeared on the screen.

“At first, we all thought they were more Akumas,” Said Chat, “Given how they appeared out of nowhere.”

“What did he mean when he said kin?” Nadja asked.

“He said he was Ladybug’s older brother,” Said Chat, “from what he said, he and his friend have been in this for a while and came out of retirement.”

“Did they give a name?”

“He said his name was Timber Wolf and his friend was called Constrictor.”

Sabine turned the television off, before looking at Tom, “Michael’s come home.”

Tom nodded quietly.

Michael glared down at the computer on his desk, quietly grumbling as he looked at the data cache and the number of viruses he’d found.

“You’d think the guy before me would’ve taken precautions, but nooo, they just opened everything and didn’t bother to do updates, virus checks or even turn the bloody thing off.” Michael muttered, before his door opened, “If you have a problem with a computer, please mark the room and computer number on the board and I’ll get back to you.”

When Michael received no response, he raised his head, coming face to face with an Italian Brunette.

“Can I help you?” Michael asked, shortly.

“Hi, I’m having trouble logging onto the computer in the library.” Said the girl, making Michael frown.

“The only computer is the one the librarian uses.” Said Michael, leaning back in his chair.

“She said I could use it.” The girl quickly said, “I need it so I can print off my homework.” The girl had her hand over her heart.

Michael folded his arms and looked at the girl.

“What’s your name?” Michael asked, getting the girls eyes to light up, ‘Great, one of those.’

“I’m Lila Rossi.” Said the girl, making Michael close his eyes.

“Lila, do you know what a tell is?” Michael asked, opening his eyes and glaring at the girl.

Lila looked worried, making Michael think that she did know and was thinking she was screwed or that she didn’t know and thinking she was screwed.

“It’s a poker term, it’s often used to tell when someone is bluffing.” Said Michael, slowly getting to his feet, “It’s also used to tell when someone is lying. Now, I’m only going to ask once, what is the real reason you want to get onto a Staff member’s computer?”

Lila looked to the side, making Michael glance over at the list of students.

“You want to lock someone out of their account.” Said Michael, matter-of-factly.

“N-no, why would you say that?” Lila demanded, trying to act offended.

“You lied by saying that Librarian gave you permission to use her computer, you have a terrible poker face, coupled with an obvious tell, you then looked at the student roster, which has the students names as well as their learner IDs, so you could easily locate the account, you need a Staff members PC to access the files and, this is the best part, you tried to get sympathy because you couldn’t print off you ‘homework’ from someone used to yell at cadets for lying to them.”

Lila gave him a blank look.

“I was a soldier and besides, you wouldn’t’ve been able to change any passwords anyway, only members of staff can do that, which is why you came here, probably hoping that I’d just hand you control of my computer.” Michael stopped and looked down at the screen, “Why, in the name of fuck, have you not even started up yet?!”

Michael punched the computer, sending it off the desk and onto the floor.

“Well fuck.” Said Michael, as he looked down at the shattered screen, “Another thing, Ms. Rossi-”

Michael looked up at Lila, only to find that she’d vanished.

“Well, I should expect a visit from the Principle later.” Michael muttered, going back to his, now destroyed, computer.

True to form, Damocles came storming into the IT office.

“YOU’RE FIRED!” Yelled Damocles, making several students stop by the door.

“May I ask why?” Michael asked, casually leaning back in his chair, using his broken computer as a foot stool.

“Attacking a student.” Said Damocles, making Michael raise his eyebrows.

“Do you have proof of such an occurrence?” Michael asked, a small smirk falling onto his face.

“The student’s word is all I require.” Said Damocles, stiffly.

“Well, I have visual and audio recordings that will say the student is lying and that you fired me under false pretences and that you are inept at your job.” Michael responded, making Damocles fume.

“What recordings?” Damocles asked, a small crowed of student now hanging around the IT office, including Caline and her class.

“The security camera up in the corner and the tape recorders over by the cabinet.” Said Michael, “And before you say the camera’s broken, it was, I fixed it and the recorders needed testing and I know that at least seven of them work.” Michael’s expression then went cold, “And before you decide to ‘fire me’, I should probably remind you that no one wants to work at this school due to the Akumas running around and, that I can literally knock the school off the network for a good month, give or take.”

Damocles silently fumed, before turning on his heel and stomping out.

“Dickhead.” Michael muttered, turning back to the computer he was setting up.

The crowed slowly dispersed, leaving Caline and her class.

“Who’s that?” Alix asked, looking at Michael.

“That is the new IT specialist.” Said Caline, looking at the class, “Any questions?”

“Yeah, but who is he?” Kim asked.

“That’s my older brother.” Said Marinette, getting a double take from the class.

“You have a brother?”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”

“How fast is he?”

“He’s kinda cute.”

Everyone looked at Juleka, who turned red.

“He can hear you.” Said Michael, not looking away from his computer, “Unless you have a question, I’d like to be left in peace before I lose it and destroy the computer.”

Caline quickly ushered her students back to their classroom, completely forgetting about the calming exercises that she had her class do. Michael quietly grumbled, as he continued to set up the new computer.

A couple of hours later, Michael heard a quiet knock on his office door. Looking up, Michael spotted his sister and a couple of her friends.

“Little one,” Said Michael, getting to his feet, “I’m going to assume that this isn’t a social call.”

“We need you to pull up Lila’s records.” Said Marinette’s friend, Alya, if Michael wasn’t mistaken.

“I’m not allowed to do that.” Said Michael, “Besides, what do you need them for?”

“Lila said that, um,” Alya stammered, struggling coming up with an excuse.

“Lila claimed to be Rena Rouge and Alya had the wake-up call that made her realise that Lila is lying.” Said Marinette, making Alya gape at her.

“Ah, so you want to debunk all her lies.” Said Michael, looking at them, “Unfortunately, her school records won’t be of much use, but I hear Google is a good alternative.”

A look of realisation dawned on Alya’s face, before she said “Oh.”

“Due to a line in my employment contract, I can’t punish her, even if I was a teacher.” Said Michael, leaning back, “So, I can’t help you directly.”

Marinette grinned, before dragging Alya and her other friend away from the office.

Michael could’ve sworn he heard Alya ask Marinette why she didn’t use a cover story. Michael smiled and shook his head, before turning a look at the computer, which had finally booted up. Michael’s face fell and immediately got on the phone.

“Barbra,” Said Michael, his tone grave, “could you send Damocles down here, please?”

A/N: Slow chapter, but the story will expand, but it will mainly follow Michael, Bustier and Marinette, other Characters will be part of the narrative but I’m just putting it out there, I have no idea what I’m planning with this.

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #caline bustier #ladybug #chat noir #tom dupain #sabine cheng #principle damocles #lila rossi #Delta writes #the war circle #war circle au

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somnilogical · 4 years

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they will never be as strong or as fast as i can be

copy/pasted from a convo:

<<somni: ive been exploiting being able to talk about everything vs miri/cfar cant do what i do bc if they did they would talk about how they are evil. it would all chain back.

somni: omg i can just post this to my blog because i can talk about my meta-strategy and it confers pretty much no relative advantage to miri/cfar. because 1 most of them have disassembled their agency so its like talking in front someone who works at the dmv about taking over the world and the ones that have any agency (basically just anna salamon) have to work with and coordinate via brokenness the masses that have and 2 feels secure in the way that saying ill use my soul as my weapon feels secure, like the power of this technique doesnt depend much on people not knowing im using it.>>

truth is entangled and lies contagious. justice is entangled and injustice contagious. in order to sustain their facade, miri/cfar had to chain back to lie about the principles of decision theory itself. lie about the organization structure of cfar, lie about miri's fundraiser. and so much more.

any series of reasoned claims they make will chain back to stuff thats false or injustice, because they seek to maintain a region of untruth and injustice.

so yeah, miri/cfar basically cant talk in public except in staid formalities infinitely pouring the same entropy of "these people are psychotic" "these people are infohazards" "do not read what they write" "stay the course" "everything is under control, do not panic" "i know my associates at miri/cfar, they are good people" "if you talk with these people you may become a rapist". but not actually able to manifest dynamic compute. to explain themselves they built their own personal room 101, filled with miri/cfar affiliates and formed a united front of gaslighting. deluks (author of that one rationalist blog where they worked to read and summarize all the others) talks about the kind of compute miri/cfar manifested:

<<deluks: I also updated a lot based on Bay Area safety discussion

idk if I have ever been in such a hostile environment for anyone trying to discuss making thigns safer

If you wanted to discuss how Anna et all were innocent people would happily chat with you

If you tried to discuss ideas for making things safer either you got silence

or people would be insanely hostle if you plausibly slipped up at all

or even seemed like you might have been not careful enough in how you phrased things

extremely careful -> no engagement at all//even slightly less care -> get dogpilled>>

they have picked up the optimization style of of cops, as alice maz described them:

<<the role of the cop is to defend society against the members of society. police officers are trivially cops. firefighters and paramedics, despite similar aesthetic trappings, are emphatically not. bureaucrats and prosecutors are cops, as are the worst judges, though the best are not. schoolteachers and therapists are almost always cops; this is a great crime, as they present themselves to the young and the vulnerable as their friends, only to turn on them should they violate one of their profession's many taboos. soldiers and parents need not be cops, but the former may be used as such, and the latter seem frighteningly eager to enlist. the cop is the enemy of passion and the enemy of freedom, never forget this>>

i can travel lots of places and regenerate truth and justice.

i can go to a trans support group in the bay and show them logs of what elle said and did and they can recognize the pattern of minority oppression, transmisogyny.

i can talk with uninvolved decision-theorists about why paying out to oneshot blackmail with subjunctive dependence because "In game theory, paying out to blackmail is bad, because it creates an incentive for more future blackmail." is wrong. and why exploiting your subjunctive dependence as a udt agent to not pay out is right. they cant.

miri/cfar have to centrally coordinate on lies or they start crashing into each other. independently generating falsehoods in isolation makes them point in all directions.

independently generating and working off of truths allows everything to point in the same direction without needing to communicate. i can write this post and then idk maybe someone im algorithmically colluding with on this writes another post and they dont come out all distorted and skew with each other. this caches out in what looks from the outside as an uncanny ability to start dynamically colluding with people and output distinct strains of philosophy based on shared precepts.

interference with yourself looks like kelsey piper trying to claim that emma and somni are starting some sort of rape cult and anna and miri/cfar trying to claim we are naive victims of ziz's cult and ▘▕▜▋ claiming emma and somni are mindhacking ziz to make her bully them and jade nameless claiming im doing this to get a job at cfar and ...

since they make up their fake coordination points independently they smash into each other. if they want to coordinate over lots of people they then have to work out which of these they want to coordinate around in a sort of market of falsehoods. and have to arrange for it to not contradict any information anything people know. but they dont know all the information everyone knows, and they wont know it even after combing through lots of blogs and reading lots of discord chats.

when they try coordinating on falsehoods like this, its hard to get a coalition together in an environment where what people know is rapidly changing because a bunch of anarchist bloggers keep posting things in a bunch of places on a non-centrally controlled schedule determined by what seems like a good idea at the time to independent agents. and having lots of conversations with so many different people in private and public they cant keep track of them all.

if they try pretending to be dumb and forming a unified gaslighting front in one area. then people will exploit the fact that this is the internet and not the evolutionary environment, take logs and post them somewhere else where everyone didnt collude to be dumb in this particular way. so while their monkey brains get a rush of endorphins from being able to successfully coordinate local humans, what feels like an entire tribe, against the blasphemer, actually they just used their adult intelligence to defeat in front of a bunch of people who dont share their political commitments but who can reason about what is true and what is just.

(of course there are many truths this doesnt work on because of large inferential distance, shared mammalian biases it takes an unusual mind to step over, and shared incentives. but the defense of most regions of injustice and untruth when you ask questions have to keep chaining to more and more absurd things until you are defending causal decision theory or start claiming 'anna salamon, the president of cfar, is not involved in cfar's hiring'. which depend on a social context committed to defending everything that protects miri/cfar and people who dont have the same conclusion-that-must-not-happen can see that its dumb.)

if miri/cfar had committed themselves to the path of expanding agency, maybe i wouldnt be posting my thoughts and meta-process on the public internet. (in the counterfactual where they committed to this path, its likely that i wouldnt be protesting. because it seems actually-hard to stay on the path and remain evil.) but as it stands, i expect this information to differentially help anarchists and do about as much good for statists as explaining updateless decision theory to someone at cfar. its just this inert structure in their brains, they cant do anything strategic with it. they intentionally shut down their ability to take ideas seriously and drive out anyone left who can, calling them crazy.

what they can do is "oh here is a list of people to target" and "see if they said anything incriminating". ive seen their attempts to coordinate enter the attractors of 'authoritarianism' (duncans dragon army, kingsleys "repent and submit to [AUTHORITY FIGURE]") and 'lets all lie in the same direction and disable general cognition to update out of this! the important part is social agreement and that everyone allows social reality to have the final veto on their beliefs. i myself do this so you know im super safe and this is super fair.' (anna and kelsey). this sort of weak coordination based on breaking people can be easily subverted by anything real.

if you are actually right, you can exploit useful properties of being right and let that be your asymmetric weapon. such that all that challenge you know they will know its steel. and then people who compute the outcome and expect to lose, dont fight in the first place.

if my chosen weapon were actually the size of my muscles and imposing figure compared to anna salamon as miri/cfar people "believed" (exploiting the already extant anti-transfem psychic suppression field as one of their few functioning coordination points. probably not as functional now after what i have written.), then when i fought people it would create a warp field such that then people with smaller muscles wont fight in the first place, but id be deluged by people with larger muscles. i dont want to create a warp field that summons people with lots of muscles.

if i exploit properties of my souls, of truth and justice. then i have an arsenal of techniques that are stronger if i actually want to save everyone, if im actually right, if im acting for justice. because they exploit useful differential properties of each. and the warp field in higher density summons ... people who care about saving the world, truth, and justice. in other words, a high density of potential allies.

by default i want to exploit "the difference is that im right" not "the difference is that i have larger muscles". i want differential power to push away those who are wrong and unjust and attract those who are right and just into a kind of warp hull.

there are other reasons as well.

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lovemesomerafael · 4 years

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No One Else Chapter 5: The Hunt

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Read it on AO3

“Where the fuck is Kate, you freakin’ lunatic?” Sonny screams into Mary’s face.

Olivia Benson rolls her eyes and stands, pulling Sonny by the arm from the interrogation room. “Yeah, so much for that,” she says as she pulls the door closed behind them.

Sonny paces in front of the one-way glass, gesturing at his former assistant, sitting quietly crying at the table in the room. “Look, I’m sorry, Liv, but she has Kate! We don’t know where she is, we don’t know what she’s done to her… she could by dying right now. I know she knows where Kate is, and so do you.”

“Yes, Carisi, I believe you, and we will get her to talk. But having you here isn’t helping. You’ve tried sweet-talking her, that didn’t work. And you just saw how well losing your mind went.”

The pacing is getting to Olivia. She wishes Sonny had been able to get Mary Duderon to talk, but he hadn’t, which means that at least she doesn’t have to watch him pace the interrogation room any more.

“Look, I don’t know what to tell you. I’d be as upset as you are right now. But I can’t let you back in there. You asked us to take this case, now you need to let us handle it. You want to help Kate, that’s what you need to do.”

Sonny looks at her for a few beats, knowing she’s right, but wanting to beat the information out of Mary. Kate has been missing since last night, almost eighteen hours now, and Sonny is frantic. All his fear and anger is focused on the mousy, chubby woman sitting looking around the box, dabbing her eyes occasionally and looking for all the world like the least likely kidnapper ever. But Sonny knows different. She hasn’t shown her crazy to the SVU detectives yet, but she will.

At that moment, Scott Lam comes around the corner with a folded paper in his hand.

“Thank God,” Sonny says, snatching the search warrant from him. “I’m takin’ Fin and Amanda.”

“You can take Fin. But I need Rollins for this interrogation,” Olivia says, waving him toward the squad room.

*********

Sonny isn’t surprised to see that Mary’s apartment is sparkling clean and perfectly organized. He is surprised to see a large, framed copy of his ID photo from the DA’s office. The presence of the picture itself is creepy enough, but its prominent placement in her living room is also troubling.

“Just be glad it ain’t next to her bed,” Fin says, laying a comforting hand on Sonny’s shoulder.

He doesn’t really expect Kate to be held in Mary’s apartment; somehow that seems too easy. But he still tears through the small flat calling Kate’s name until it’s clear she isn’t there. Kate’s partner, Tom Hensler, meets them at the apartment and, after a quick introduction to Fin, goes in search of the Building Manager or Superintendent, or whoever might be able to give him access to any other places in the building that Mary might possibly be holding Kate. After that, he’ll begin to knock on the neighbors’ doors, hoping to learn something helpful.

Sonny and Fin turn up several disturbing things during their search of Mary’s apartment. One is the picture of Sonny and Kate at Forlini’s, or what’s left of it. Mary has burned Kate out of the picture.

Sonny and Fin share a look of horror at that, after which Fin says quietly, “Let’s just keep on lookin’. We don’t know anything yet.”

In Mary’s bedroom, they find a sort of macabre shrine where she has photos from the press conference following the trial, as well as pictures from the party afterward at Maxwell’s that she appears to have downloaded from social media sites. They are candid photos taken by various people, which Sonny recognizes because he’s in all of them. He can remember posing for most of them, although there are a few where he’d simply been caught in a shot. Many have been blown up to a large size, and most other people cut out so that only Sonny remains, then framed. Sonny feels icy chills creep up his spine looking at them.

There is one picture, larger than the rest, among the framed photos. Sonny remembers posing for this one, as well. It’s of him and Mary at the Maxwell’s after-trial party. The picture is a simple posed shot of some of the people they work with, in which Sonny is standing behind Mary. She’s cut everyone else from the picture and blown it up so that it looks as though it’s a photo of just the two of them.

As it turns out, there is a picture of Sonny next to the bed. Several, in fact. These are the most disturbing of all. They’re pictures Sonny recognizes, which Kate must have posted on social media, because they’re all pictures of Sonny and Kate. But Kate has been removed from the photos. Mary has very skillfully used Photoshop or some other program to substitute herself in each of the pictures. It’s all Sonny can do not to smash them to pieces.

Besides the pictures, they find a shirt Sonny discarded at work after a cartridge of printer ink exploded on it, and a number of napkins he apparently used at one time or another. He can feel his stomach churn at the evidence of Mary’s obsession with him.

What they don’t find is anything obvious that will lead them to wherever Kate is.

After a careful search, they find that Kate is nowhere in the building where Mary lives. They haven’t found any receipts or other evidence that Mary rents a storage unit or some other place she could be holding Kate. And none of the neighbors have seen or heard anything to indicate Mary’s had any visitors – ever. Certainly not one who was there against her will.

Sonny is beside himself. Not only have they proven that Mary is dangerously obsessed with him, but they’ve found nothing to indicate that she is holding Kate somewhere. Which leaves one horrible possibility.

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

Amanda Rollins needs to proceed very, very carefully. She wonders why Mary Duderon hasn’t lawyered up – she works for ADAs, she has to know better – but she has a suspicion that, in Mary’s twisted mind, being here will result in more attention from Sonny.

“This is where Sonny worked before the DA’s office, did you know that?”

Mary sniffles. “Yeah, I knew that.”

“I was his partner for more than five years. I know him pretty well.”

Mary just looks at her, saying nothing but betraying just the slightest bit of… something. Amanda hopes she knows what it is.

“He ate dinner at my house more than at his own. Practically helped me raise my daughters.”

“When is Sonny coming back?” Mary asks.

Amanda continues as though she hasn’t spoken. “Of course, it all changed when he went to the DA’s office. He still came over sometimes, but I hardly get to work with him anymore. And then when Kate came along, no more dinners. Do you know Kate?”

“I’ve met her.”

“He’s crazy about Kate.”

Nothing.

“Sonny, he always had a thing for her. They were together in Brooklyn, you know, before he came to Manhattan.”

“Whatever.”

“Yeah, and he always used to talk about her. He would tell me how much he missed her, how great things were between them, that kind of thing. It was so cute, how it was just always Kate, Kate, Kate.”

“That’s ridiculous. She wasn’t even his girlfriend then. She let him go.”

Amanda definitely has Mary’s attention now, if the malevolence in her comments is any indication.

“Maybe. But the minute they saw each other again, they were back together. I think they’re soulmates.”

Mary doesn’t like that assertion at all. But she says nothing more.

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

Tom Hensler is having no luck checking Mary Duderon’s social media accounts, because she has none. That seems right, if she’s as insular as she appears, but they also haven’t seen anything around her apartment that indicates any hobbies, other than her cats. And how much time can you spend hanging out with cats? She doesn’t appear to be a reader, she doesn’t have a collection of movies, there are no crafts in her apartment, and as far as he can tell, she has no friends. Can she really spend all her time watching TV? Or surfing the internet but making no connections?

He hopes TARU will hurry up with the forensics on her computer. He had personally brought it to them, making sure to let them know that the vic was a missing cop. A couple of techs there know her, and said they’d do their best. Although they’ve only been partners for a few months, he and Kinsella are starting to form a solid partnership. He likes Carisi, too, and he can see the guy’s a wreck. He imagines what he’d be like if it was his wife, Kelly, who was missing, and actually has to admire Carisi for remaining as controlled as he is.

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

Sonny returns to SVU, simply because it feels right to be investigating Kate’s disappearance from there. So far, with the apartment yielding nothing but shudders of disgust, the only possible leads are Mary’s computer, and Mary herself. But even if she has no friends, she has to have family, right? That’s something to check out. He gets on the phone with the DA’s office, demanding Mary’s personnel file, and hoping they wouldn’t make him bother to get a warrant. He’ll get it if he has to, but it would take time. And all he really wants to know is Mary’s emergency contact.

While he badgers the HR Director on the phone, he works the computer. It feels oddly comfortable to be back in detective mode, sitting at his old desk. He may be a new lawyer, but this, he knows how to do.

“Hey, Carisi,” Fin calls over from his desk when Sonny hangs up the phone. “This is interesting. Your friend’s got a record.”

“Seriously?” Sonny gets up and goes over to Fin’s desk.

“Yeah. You ready for this? Three different guys have taken out restraining orders against her, and she’s got a conviction for Second Degree Stalking.”

“Second degree? That’s not easy to get. That’s stalking behavior plus the victim has a reasonable fear of harm and either a weapon is involved it’s a repeat conviction within 5 years. What’d she do?”

The crimes of which Mary has been convicted look very much like her behavior toward Sonny and Kate. This is something they can work with. It’s also encouraging, in that she has frightened people, and destroyed some property, but she’s never actually hurt anyone. She’s pled to stalking, so some of the property crime charges were dropped, but she’s been violent before, at least towards her victims’ homes and cars.

“We need to talk to these vics. See if they know anything that can help.”

“What I wanna know is, how’d she get a job in the DA’s office with a Class E felony on her record?”

“Let’s worry about that when we have Kate back, huh? You try to find the family, I’ll see if I can track down these vics.”

Sonny tries to focus on his work. He ignores the part of his mind that wants to scream with terror and frustration, focusing all his attention on the immediate task at hand. He’ll have plenty of time to freak out later, and it will do no good to imagine nightmare scenarios of where she might be. Right now, he has to find the woman he loves. He closes his eyes briefly in prayer, thinking that he’s been praying so much God might return Kate just to shut him up about her, and picks up the phone.

Within an hour, Sonny and Fin have a list of people to go see.

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

Amanda sits looking at Mary, who fumbles almost continuously with the edges of her oversized pink sweatshirt, the seams of her jeans, or her hair. Amanda hopes it’s more than just nervousness about being questioned.

“So, Mary, why don’t you tell me about you and ADA Carisi?”

Mary looks at Amanda, eyes wary. “I was his assistant.”

“Yeah, I know. What was that like?”

“I don’t know. It was OK.”

“What’s he like to work with? As an assistant, I mean. Was he nice to you?”

“He was OK.”

“Really, Mary? Just OK? Not good? Not bad?”

“Good, I guess.”

“Me, I liked working with him. We talked to people right here in this room, in fact. Right here at this table. All the time.”

Mary seems not to react, but after a few moments of silence, Amanda notices her put her hand flat on the table and move her fingertips ever so slightly, as if stroking the table Sonny touched.

“When is he coming back? I really want to see Sonny.”

“I don’t know, Mary. He’s out trying to find Kate. He’ll probably keep going until he finds her.”

Mary looks straight at Amanda for the first time all day. Amanda smiles a little wistfully at her. “I wish somebody loved me like that, y’know?”

“He doesn’t love her.”

“Of course he does. You must’ve seen it. Heard it in his voice.”

Mary shrugs, but there’s a definite change in her posture. She stiffens a bit and lifts her chin.

“But now she left. Now he’s with me.” Mary quickly adds, “At the DA’s office, I mean. We work together.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“I do everything for him. He depends on me.” An element of defensiveness, possessiveness colors Mary’s speech.

“I’m sure he does, hon. But it’s not the same.”

“She left. Now he’s mine.”

Amanda injects a sympathetic note into her voice. “I don’t think so, Mary. He’s Kate’s.”

“Kate.”

Amanda allows herself to react to the acid tone with which Mary hisses the name, but only a bit. “You don’t like Kate?”

“Don’t know her.”

“C’mon. There’s nothing wrong with admitting you don’t like her. I don’t.”

“You don’t?” Mary sounds genuinely surprised.

“I don’t think she’s right for him.”

“She’s not.”

“Right. But I guess it doesn’t make any difference, since he’s in love with her.”

“No, he isn’t,” Mary snaps.

“I suppose he talks about Kate all the time, though, doesn’t he?”

“Not that much. He doesn’t care about her. Not really.”

“No?”

“No. He’ll get over her now that she’s gone.”

This is the delicate moment Amanda’s been working toward. “You think so?”

The superior look Mary gives her isn’t what bothers her. It’s the malice. “Of course he will. He has me now.”

“Are you…” Amanda hopes she gets the inflection right. It’s crucial.

“Sonny and I love each other.”

“You do?” Amanda acts surprised, but also as though she believes her.

“Well, we can’t talk about it yet. First we had to stop working together. That’s why he got reassigned, you know.”

“Oh. So now that he’s reassigned, you can go public?”

“He’ll have to pretend to be sad about Kate for a while, of course…”

“Sad?”

“Yeah. You know. Because she’s gone.”

“You said that before. What makes you think she’s gone?”

“I know she is. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Because she left him?”

“Sonny doesn’t think she left him. He’s afraid something happened to her, Mary.”

“Nothing happened to her. She just left him. I know he’ll be sad for a while, or he’ll pretend to be. But I’m here to comfort him.”

“He seems kind of mad at you.”

“I know, but he isn’t. He’s just upset because Kate left him. We’ll be fine.”

“How do you know Kate left him? Maybe she’s just, I don’t know, visiting a friend or something.”

“She isn’t.”

“How do you know?”

“I just… know.”

“But, Mary, how do you know?”

“I just know.”

Amanda Rollins isn’t giving up.

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

“That bitch is cray-cray.”

The man standing in the doorway of his house is clearly disgusted by the whole topic of Mary Duderon, and annoyed that he has to talk about this yet again.

“We’ve read the police reports, and your statement to the court in support of your request for a restraining order. So we know what she did. What we’re wondering is whether there’s anything else you can tell us,” Sonny says.

“Like what?”

“A woman is missing. We think Mary Duderon had something to do with her disappearance,” Fin explains. “Can you think of anywhere Mary might go, anyplace she might have access to?”

“Look, I haven’t seen her in years, and I don’t want to. I barely knew her! She just… latched onto me and when I told her to get lost, she got mad and trashed my car. That was it. She got fired, and I moved so she couldn’t find me. End of story.”

“OK, well anything you can think of could help,” Sonny says, handing the man his card. “Give it some thought. Call us if you think of anything. Please. A woman is in danger.”

The next person Sonny and Fin go to see is a man who employed Mary for about six months. During that time, he had a drunken one-night stand with her, which he barely remembers, except that he thinks it was she who came on to him. After that, however, she made his life a living hell. She told him she was pregnant. When he demanded proof, and proof of paternity, she went off the rails. Although the man’s wife had thrown him out of their house, Mary went there and harassed his wife and sons, shrieking tearful demands. She called and texted his cell phone at all hours of the day and night, and eventually took a baseball bat to the windows of his business. When he fired her and reported her activities to the police, she’d tried to set his car on fire, but didn’t know what she was doing and had done no real damage.

The man doesn’t want to talk to them. He’s back with his wife, and really just wants to forget the whole thing. He claims not to know anything about her, and is no help.

“Listen,” he says. “Whoever this woman is, I feel sorry for her. ‘Cause Mary Duderon is a psycho, and the more she hears ‘no’, the crazier she gets. I wouldn’t put anything past her.”

That information does nothing for Sonny’s nerves.

***********

Tom Hensler gets a call from TARU. They’ve found some searches on Mary’s computer and want him to take a look. He calls Sonny.

“Hey, Carisi, I got a call from TARU. They’re in Mary’s computer. They called me, but you know her, I don’t. You wanna meet me down there? Take a look?”

Sonny looks at Fin, who is driving them toward the boarding house where Mary’s mother lives. “Where are you now?”

“Station house.”

“Look, we’re way uptown, so you go ahead. Take a look and then call me. We’ll see if there’s anything there.”

“Will do. You holdin’ up?”

“I’m tired and I’m pissed. Not payin’ any attention to anything else right now. You?”

“That bitch disappeared my partner. I’m thinkin’ if there’s nothin’ but cat videos on her computer, I’m goin’ down to SVU and we’re gonna have a talk. Off the record.”

“Yeah, I heard that, but you don’t know Captain Benson. She’s not likely to cooperate.”

“Then this damn computer better give me somethin’.”

“Amen to that.”

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

“So, Mary,” Amanda begins, handing her a cup of coffee. “Where do you think Kate went?”

“How should I know?”

“Well, I mean, if you had to guess. Where would someone like Kate go, if they left Sonny?”

“I really don’t know. I don’t care, either.”

So much for that tactic.

“You know what I think?” Amanda asks. “I think she’s coming back.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’d have to be crazy to leave a man like Sonny. Right?”

“I would never leave him.”

“Exactly. That’s why I think she’s coming back. When Sonny gets back here, I’m going to tell him that. So he doesn’t give up hope.”

“No. She’s not coming back. He should just forget about her. He’s mine now.”

“You don’t know that, Mary. And Sonny, he’s so handsome, and so nice, it’s like you said. You’d never leave him. So Kate didn’t, either. I’m going to tell him that.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s not coming back. She’s such a…”

“A what?”

“Nothing.”

“C’mon, Mary. I told you how I feel. Tell me.”

“Her apartment burned. And she made Sonny let her live with him after that. She’s a whore.”

Amanda tries to look fascinated but says nothing, hoping that Mary will take the invitation. But she doesn’t go on. Amanda tries again.

“Kate’s apartment burned?”

“Not bad. Nobody got hurt or anything. But she stayed at Sonny’s after that. She wasn’t supposed to do that. But he was just too nice to say no.”

“Maybe he wanted her there.”

“No, he didn’t! Anyway, she’s gone now, she… left him. And she’s not coming back.”

“I think she is.”

“She’s not.”

“Tell me why.”

“Because she’s not. She’s gone. And Sonny is mine now.”

“I don’t think so. I think she’s coming back, and when I tell him that, he’ll wait for her.”

“You don’t know anything.”

Finally, Mary is beginning to forget to hide her anger.

“Neither do you.”

“Yes, I do.”

“What do you know? Why shouldn’t Sonny wait for Kate to come back?”

“Because she can’t.”

The most delicate moment of all.

“Why can’t she, Mary?”

But Mary has realized what she said. “Because… Because he’s mine now. That’s all I meant.”

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

Mary’s mother lives in an old-fashioned boarding house, where she rents a room and meals are served communally by the landlady. It’s a surprisingly nice place. It’s clean and comfortable and, although Mary’s mother is in her eighties, she looks healthy, if a little frail. But she’s not happy to see that the police have come to ask her about Mary again. She’s especially not happy that one of them is Mr. Carisi, the man Mary has been so focused on recently.

Eleanor Duderon knows that her daughter gets a little… overly attached sometimes. Mary’s always been reserved in public, but there’s a lot more going on under the surface than people think. And she has been known to overreact when the real world doesn’t cooperate with the complex, detailed worlds she builds in her head.

“Mrs. Duderon,” Sonny begins, “We need to ask you some questions about your daughter, Mary.”

“All right. Is she in any trouble?” Her voice is scratchy, but strong.

“A woman is missing, and we think Mary may have something to do with her disappearance.”

“Oh, I don’t… Mary’s not the kind of girl who would ever hurt anyone. She’s gotten a little carried away in the past, I know, but she just has deep feelings.”

“Ma’am,” Fin tries, “This woman is a police officer. If your daughter’s done something to her, she’s in a lot of trouble. You understand that?”

“But she doesn’t usually hurt anyone.”

Sonny and Fin both clearly hear the “usually”.

“But she has hurt someone in the past?” Sonny asks, leaning far forward, his forearms on his thighs, peering intently into Eleanor Duderon’s troubled face.

“I can’t really talk about that.”

“Mrs. Duderon, I work with Mary. She was my assistant, did you know that?”

“Yes, I know. She’s mentioned you. I’m afraid she’s developed a bit of a crush on you, Mr. Carisi.”

“Ma’am, it’s more than a crush. I think you know that ‘deep feelings’ is an understatement for what Mary can be like. Don’t you?”

“Well, I suppose you know she has been in trouble before, when things didn’t work out for her and a man she likes.”

Sonny turns the charm up as far as he can, given his exhaustion and frayed nerves. “So, here’s the thing, Ma’am. The woman who’s missing? She’s my girlfriend. And your daughter, she set her bed on fire, along with all the pictures she had of the two of us together.”

“Oh, no…”

“Things at work have become strained, and Mary’s not happy about it. She blames Kate. She has this idea that the only thing standing between her and me is Kate.”

“Oh, so that’s who Kate is.”

“She’s talked about her?” Sonny and Fin exchange looks.

Mrs. Duderon’s face takes on a hint of confusion, tinged with what Sonny thinks might be fear. “She doesn’t like her, this Kate. But she told me that Kate was gone. That she’d left you, and now the two of you would be, I don’t know, dating or something.”

“When did she tell you this?” Fin asks, on alert.

“Three days ago.”

Kate has only been missing for one day.

Fin is standing now. “Did she say where Kate went?”

“No, only that she was gone, and she wouldn’t be back.”

#law & order svu #law & order: special victims unit #sonny carisi #ADA Carisi #ADA Dominick Carisi Jr #peter scanavino

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steve0discusses · 5 years

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Yugioh S3 Ep 36-37: Local Mom-Friend’s Weird Trick, Doctors Hate Him

Hey y’all it’s a surprise midweek post because I’m in Canada this weekend woo. Surprised I even got this post done, TBH, I finally get some time where I’m not commuting around to and from San Francisco or corralling small children and I can just sit at my computer and focus and have some peace and quiet and I got--a mysterious sickness from all those kids! *yay* So, since I can’t really focus on anything, I’ll type in here and see if any of my words make any sense at all and hopefully I won’t go on some weird ass tangent like I tend to do like every other post.

So Yugi is still dueling Kaiba, much like he has for the past like...it feels like 4 years. I know I’ve only seen 3 seasons but this is...this is a really long duel. Maybe because there was a month-long break for me in the middle, (during which I watched the entirety of Evangelion, 2 Seasons of Gotham, Stranger Things S3, and the disappointing season of One Punch Man so like...I’ve had some time away from Yugioh) or maybe...maybe it’s because they’re actually playing card mechanics that go more in depth...

But yeah, despite everything, they’re still dueling.

And honestly, I’m looking at that episode number above me and it’s like...so there’s this Kaiba and Yugi Duel and then...only one more duel, right? Is it going to be a ten episode duel? Like unless Rebecca comes back for a weird cameo like...how...?

Whatever, we’ll get there when we get there.

Anyways, everyone who’s been avoiding this duel like the plague is down with the plague victims in the hospital. That’s where Tristan gets a bright idea and it’s one of his dumber ones, believe it or not.

Man, I forgot that comatose Joey Wheeler is still wearing that duel disk Pharaoh slapped on him during all this too, haha.

Also, why does he have to have all these pectoral suction cups while they just kinda...gave up on Mai? I mean I know they can’t show boobies on a Y7 show but like...it really feels like the doctor just kinda shrugged at Mai and was like “I only have one set of boob suction cups, I really didn’t think I’d need more than that, if at all.”

(read more under the cut)

And so Tristan decides that if Joey is at the window which is like...600 ft below Yugi Muto’s duel, a duel you can’t...really see from the ground...then Joey Wheeler will arise.

I mean, it’s gonna work, it’s just also kind of laughable that Joey wasn’t able to hear any of this nonsense from the bed that is two feet away from the window.

But wtv, it’s very dramatic and Tristan gets to cry some more and feel useful I guess.

The haunted underwear mannequin plot-thread was dumped between that episode and this one, and I’m kinda bummed out that more things haven’t turned into haunted underwear mannequins.

Instead of horrific underwear mannequins, Joey’s dream has gone back to the standard fare of Joey picking on middle schoolers and wearing a much better outfit than he has for most of this show.

I will super miss Joey in a fitted suit. Like, soak it allll in horny preteens, because pretty soon, Joey Wheeler will be back in that scruffy oversized T-shirt just like...well, just like how a teenager would be. I mean there’s some REASONS Mai can’t date Joey, but the fact he has a fitted suit he refuses to ever wear is one of the top reasons right under, youknow, the fact he’d need a fake ID to ever go out with her.

It’s kind of amazing actually, how my whole life I kinda just figured this was a show of insane character designs, only to find out when I actually watch the show that there is like a ... REALLY horny line just going all the way through it.

Honestly, me trying to figure out how and when this kid’s show got so damn horny has been a very big mystery I’ve been trying to solve in the background this entire time. Like, I was told “yeah the Yugioh boys get very attractive.” and I was like “ehhhhhhhh I don’t even know what you’re talking about” but, little by little over the past 3 seasons, these animators are starting to draw these boys just waaaaaaay older than these kids actually are. I’m starting to see what people are saying. It’s still not my thing, personally, but uh yeah I can see how this spawned all that fanart now.

Anyways, speaking of, the other day a friend of mine’s sister was talking about how she, as a millennial, has been wired to love very tall skinny boys in skinny pants and very long coats with popped collars and I immediately was like “Lol are you admitting to Seto Kaiba?”

And she meant Cumberbatch Sherlock, LOLOLOLOL.

And so, back on the duel field we got Seto Kaiba, who’s a lot like Sherlock except a Sherlock who is suffering from both short term and long term memory loss. And, who does cards instead of heroin.

They probably both play violin.

Kaiba, despite having arc after arc where his little brother is his main motivation, has decided to just ditch Mokuba and it’s like...either he’s psyching Yugi out or Seto Kaiba forgot he had a brother for a little bit. He might...he might have forgotten. Mokuba is standing behind him, after all.

And so, because Joey is facing Yugi at just the right moment and at just the right time, somehow he can do his little force ability again and just do this:

Thanks, hallucination!Joey.

And out he goes, drawn like a romance anime character lol.

Anyways, he’s back to being a slob so...welcome back, wrinkle shirt, it’s been a while.

And then Joey looks around and actually said this:

“Did someone get hurt?” He asks, after being burned, electrocuted AND drowned just yesterday.

I was kinda very much hoping Tristan would deck him out.

Glad that, as predicted, the moment Mai doesn’t need to be Joey’s main motivation anymore, the moment he puts the cards away, she may as well not even exist. This show and the way they write straight romances.

Please admire the matching lace up boots on the Kaiba Corp’s Emergency Squad. This would be the most obscure Cosplay on earth but maybe the most wearable Yugioh cosplay outside of Bandit Keith because you wouldn’t need a 400 dollar wig.

And then for some reason Tea just loses her mind and has a complete breakdown. She’s been kind of a mess since Yugi walked out like 2 episodes ago, which seems kind of...I dunno, both out of character but very much in character at the same time. I mean we’re assuming they “have” a relationship it’s just never actually say that they do, so her acting like her man is dead is kinda like...it still feels like it comes out of freakin nowhere.

Anyways, Tea who is strong enough to lift this entire plane and who is, in fact, possessed by at least 2 powerful ghosts (remember Shadi did spends some time there and he did NOT like it), is now a seeping crying mess that refuses to lose any more of her hospital-prone boys.

I mean they were going to go anyway, but they let Tea pretend she had any control over that and kind of glazed over this.

Back in this game that no one else is really watching anymore, Seto Kaiba is still monologuing about his entire life story that he’s never gotten any therapy for, except for that time his evil step brother accidentally gave him therapy.

Quite upset we never see the color of Mokuba’s little tuxedo.

Course...didn’t...Noah wear a little tuxedo in that same exact shape? I mean it’s a silly headcanon but youknow...it could be a yellow tuxedo they just happened to find in the back of the closet.

And it’s at this point that Mokuba just lost his lid. I’m so used to Mokuba unconditionally supporting his crazy brother that this would have been the biggest anime betrayal of the whole series, if Mokuba had said any of this outloud (which he wisely did not).

It was like...damn Mokuba. He actually said something along the lines of “I liked you better when you were poor” and it was like. Holy cow, Mokuba. Damn.

Anyway, a bunch of card stuff happens, and Pharaoh has decided that Seto has too much anger in his heart, and that’s why he will lose. Then, Pharaoh played the card proof for how angry Seto is, and if I actually payed any attention to cards, it would have been very meaningful.

But anyways, kudos to Pharaoh on not mind-wiping Seto Kaiba this time or launching him directly off this very tall tower like he attempted to do last time. They actually played a game start to finish with eachother and nothing exploded except for every television in Domino. Progress.

and then Mokuba started crying and initially I thought...wouldn’t he have WANTED his brother to lose but then I kind of remembered oh yeah now Mokuba has to deal with this oncoming aftermath.

RIP Mokuba, I guess.

Anyway, I’m out of town for the rest of the weekend, escaping to the far North to get away from the weather. I should be back next weekend, but if I’m not, I was probably eaten by a bear. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to my Yugioh recaps in Chrono order from the beginning.

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