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stsgluver · 5 months

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𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟑 — gojo satoru

synopsis. nobara is ill and what better way to spend your day off than trying to figure out who your teacher's high school girlfriend is?

wc. 3.5k

tags. gojo x reader, fluff, one suggestive joke, reader is in gojo's class, implied utahime x shoko, only half proofread

a/n. it's nearly midnight and im so tired and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow but I needed to get this done. I hope there's not too many mistakes <3 the ending is kind of shit but idc :) jk i do pls like it

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“are you sure you’ll be okay alone?”

nobara lazily lifted her head from beneath her duvet, orange bangs clinging to her sweaty forehead as she let out a series of harsh coughs. megumi winced from the doorway, inching back ever so slightly - he'd already brought in a couple bottles of water and a box of tissues, he wasn't looking to contract whatever flu-like disease she had caught.

she rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle antics and raised a weak thumbs up. “go on fushiguro, i know how much you're dying to spend the afternoon with itadori and sensei."

“haha,” megumi uttered with the most sarcastic tone he could muster. on second thoughts, maybe being sick for a week wouldn't be so bad. with nobara gone, there was no buffer for his teacher and classmate to pester. “call me if you get worse, you know the second years are useless.”

nobara gave the younger boy a quick salute and small smile, “yes boss.”

she dropped her head back into her pillow and waited till she heard the door click shut till she slipped a little less than elegantly out of bed. whilst yes, there was no denying that she was definitely sick, she also had a mission she couldn’t give up on.

in the three weeks, four days and an unknown number of hours since she had found the dvd of her teacher in his youth, she had been putting all of her free time into trying to find you. megumi had been a dead end when she’d tried asking him about you again and, although nobara knew he had a soft spot for yuuji, she didn’t trust the pink haired boy to treat this situation sensitively.

initially, she’d even considered asking gojo about it but she decided against that pretty quickly. that could get awkward very quickly and she still had at least two years at the school.

then, she’d moved onto searching through the school for traces of the alumni. all she’d managed to find was a single photo; one that included both kyoto and tokyo students. you were tucked into gojo’s side with your arm around shoko. geto was there too: him and gojo side by side as they always were in their teenage years. all of you were grinning and genuinely happy. where had it all gone so drastically wrong?

nobara wondered if it was geto’s fault that gojo’s class had been all but erased – an effort to forget that the worst curse user to live had in fact once been an aspiring sorcerer.

her next plan (and one she hadn’t full considered the logistics of completely just yet) was to watch every single video on the dvd because surely at some point, there would be some clue of who you were or where you’d gone.

and even if there wasn’t, what else could she possibly do to amuse herself whilst she was on bed rest?

with a huff, she grabbed her laptop and dropped back onto her bed, tucking herself under the covers. opening up her laptop (her password being ‘12345’), she clicked unpause on a video she’d started the evening prior.

“–and that’s it basically.”

shoko waved her hands around, sat on yaga’s chair at the front of the classroom with a blackboard filled with scribbles behind her. it wasn’t anything legible, more like swirls and stars and nobara thinks that, if she looked hard enough, in the corner were two little stick men: gojo and geto. an unlit cigarette sat between her lips as she kicked her legs up onto her teacher’s desk. yaga clearly wasn’t in the room.

“that made no sense whatsoever but woo! shoko!” you clapped, out of frame of the camera but enthusiastically nonetheless. the aforementioned girl narrowed her eyes at you across the classroom.

“that’s why i made a video, for you to look back on duh,” she tsked, nodding her head towards the camera. “plus it is easy. i expected dumb and dumber not to understand but you?” shoko patted away a few non-existent tears, taking on the role of disappointed parent and their once star student.

except you’d never really excelled in a class with two prodigies and shoko actually loved having the upperhand in at least one area of sorcery.

shoko picked up the camera, holding it upwards to give a full view of her outfit and hair – like it was any different to any other day she attended school. she swivelled the spinny chair over to an occupied desk, slotting next to it and moving the camera so that it captured all of you in the frame. gojo was sat down in the seat, glasses propped up onto his forehead as you sat sideways on his lap, unsuccessfully trying to decipher shoko’s teachings on the board.

“understanding reversed cursed techniques is way harder than understanding cursed techniques,” you tried to justify, pointing to the board that showed the squiggles that ‘symbolised’ performing a reversed curse technique. stealing gojo’s glasses and popping them on your own face, you popped a quick kiss to the side of his head, “plus, why waste my energy? you’ll figure it out so i never have to.”

“the things i do for you,” gojo sighed happily, dropping his head down onto your shoulder as his arms looped around your waist. the orange-haired sorcerer could practically hear yuuji’s gasps at the simple displays of affection and she almost felt bad for watching some of the clips without him.

almost.

nobara was never one for romance – drama, such as the fight between gojo and naoya, that was her scene. but even she couldn’t help herself from smiling at the teenage love between the two of you. maybe she should give her teacher more credit – there was more to the six foot two man than just his over the top personality and questionable teaching methods.

“this is meant to be an educational video! be less couple-y!” shoko complained, scowling and shuffling away on her chair again.

“oh, we could make it very educational,” gojo wiggled his eyebrows, the devious smirk on his lips only widening at your flushed expression as you tried to hit his chest. failing, though, as he isolated his cursed technique to uphold a thin barrier between your hand and the material of his uniform.

there was the teacher she knew – keen to annoy even those he loved the most.

shoko must’ve ended the video out of spite after his comment, because nobara found herself staring at a black screen.

all that she’d learnt so far was that you couldn’t perform a reverse cursed technique as a teenager. maybe that was what killed you? if you were even dead, that is. but given the damage that curses can inflict on sorcerers, whether or not you were able to execute a reversed cursed technique could literally be the difference between walking away from a fight a little tired or in a body bag.

nobara coughed several times, picking up the open bottle of water from her bedside table and taking a sip to try and ease her scratchy throat. scrunching up her nose at the slight sting of swallowing, she clicked the next available video, not putting much thought into her choice.

it was you and nanami in frame in a library by the looks of it but if it was on campus, nobara didn’t know where. christmas decorations decorated the shelving units behind you – tinsels of gold, red and green, and hanging snowflakes. you were both wearing your usual uniform but you also had a santa hat on and tinsel lining your jacket.

“we’re the only two on campus,” you said quietly, “because everyone else’s parents loved them–”

“we couldn’t afford to go back for the holidays,” nanami cut you off, without glancing up from what he was writing. being from two non-sorcerer families was a disadvantage normally in terms of status and inherited techniques, but holidays were somehow worse.

gojo had offered to help you out with a ticket back to your parents and had even extended an invitation for you to stay with him but you didn’t want to leave nanami alone (and although he didn’t seem grateful, he was glad you were there).

“it’s fine. academic comeback time,” you held up a book to the screen. being in a class with three exceptional sorcerers meant that studies were often sidelined to try and improve and perfect your techniques. holidays were usually your opportunity to catch up on the missed classwork and homework you’d fallen behind on.

nanami less so – if anything he was reading ahead. tokyo had never been renowned for academic scores until he’d come along.

“i don’t get why the camera needs to be here,” nanami complained.

“to record us study! it’s motivational.”

“sure,” nanami hummed quietly, reading over your shoulder at the work you’d already completed prior to setting up the camera. “that’s wrong. this is simple mutipli–” he paused at the sound of rustling and his brows furrowed as he tried to peer round the bookshelves.

“merry christmas!”

nobara snickered as nanami jumped at the sudden voice and appearance of three people behind him. gojo and geto were capable of masking their cursed energy (and shoko’s) so that they wouldn’t be noticed slipping into the library. although gojo had nearly screwed that up by pulling out a chair trying to trip up geto.

“ieiri!” you slipped out from your seat, running up and hugging your classmate. in the process, the camera got knocked so it was facing the ceiling. nobara frowned as she turned the brightness up on her laptop as if though that would somehow bring everyone back into grame. in the periphery of the screen she could make out just the heads and foreheads of the student sorcerers.

“hi satoru, missed you too satoru, so glad you came to see me satoru,” the white haired sorcerer pouted at the lack of attention and nobara is sure someone responded to him but the audio is muffled by two voices closer to the camera’s microphone.

“here!” haibara slipped into the seat next to nanami that you had occupied moments prior and held up a small wrapped box with red ribbon tied neatly in a bow. “i picked it up on the way. merry christmas nanamin!”

“thanks yu,” nanami smiled softly at his classmate. well that’s what nobara thought he did anyways, his eyes lifted into half crescents but she wasn’t actually sure what his mouth was doing out of frame. she’d never seen the blond so happy from a simple gesture.

she clicked off the video even though it still had thirty seconds left to go. it wasn’t much fun just watching people’s foreheads and she highly doubted that nanami was about to fix the camera’s position.

so you were from a non-sorcerer family and possibly not able to use reverse cursed technique. it wasn’t much but facts were still facts.

there was a little more deliberation before she chose her next video, settling herself back into her cushions as she waited for it to load.

the screen was suddenly very bright and nobara winced, turning it down as the surroundings came into focus. it was the inside of an arcade and the camera was pointed directly at one of those claw machines. inside were different sized plushies of spiderman and haibara was the one controlling the claw.

nobara could vaguely make out everyone’s reflection in the glass – to the left of haibara was geto (who was also the one holding onto the camera), gojo and you, and to his right was shoko, nanami and maybe also utahime? shoko had her arm around a blue haired girl either way.

“no! so close haibara,” you patted the youngest boy on the shoulder gently as the plushie he’d managed to pick up slipped from the claw’s clutches before it could be dropped down the chute and retrieved.

“can i try?” gojo asked and, from the annoyed groans, nobara assumed it wasn’t the first time he’d interjected.

“no, he’ll get it this time,” geto encouraged and gojo flashed him a look of disbelief.

“if gojo wants a go he can have it!” haibara tried to step away from the machine but nanami halted him, slotting several more coins in the machine.

“take your go yu.”

“i’ll get you a slushie if you win,” shoko called out, clapping her hands together as he accepted his fate, hesitantly pressing down on the buttons as he peered through the side of the machine to get a better angle.

“haibara, haibara.” all of them were chanting his name now, and that was enough of a boost for him to finally get one of the plushies over the barrier and down the chute. the camera shook unsteadily as geto jumped and six of them crowded the youngest in a joint hug.

nobara could see yuuji in haibara and megumi in nanami and herself in shoko and she had to stop herself from tearing up. nanami and shoko seemed like strangers these days and she couldn’t even imagine waking up and yuuji not being the first one to greet her outside her room.

we’ve got a mission here, she reminded herself, shaking her head lightly before moving onto the next clip.

“utahime, say hi,” you lowered the camera to the kyoto sorcerer’s height. she was sat cross-legged on the floor with a jacket flung haphazardly over her head to try and block out the sun that beamed down.

“hi!” utahime waved, smiling as you dropped down next to her. in her hands was a partially made daisy chain that she’d started to entertain herself whilst she waited for the tokyo students. despite being in kyoto, she’d always chosen to join yourself and shoko at events over her own classmates.

“who do you think is going to win the exchange event this year?” you asked with a raised brow and utahime grimaced.

“don’t make me compliment him.”

“are you implying that our edge is not because of me?” you looked at the camera with a disgusted expression, like you had the power to outshine the gojo satoru, she rolled her eyes – gojo’s dramatics were rubbing off on you. “for that i’m telling ieiri. you may be her girlfriend–”

utahime hit your arm and her eyes darted around for anyone that could’ve heard (like you were not sat alone in a field together whilst the others warmed up), “shut up! we’re not like that…”

you nodded with a condescending hum. “then kindly could you please stop calling her till three in the morning, some of us need our beauty sleep.”

“you’re only ever up at three am because you’re sneaking back from gojo’s dorm,” she retorted with a pointed look. you opened your mouth to defend yourself

“true,” you jumped at shoko’s voice, swivelling your neck around to find the third piece of your trio standing behind you. shoko gestured towards your uniform jacket, “and if she pulls down her collar there’s a massive hickey i had to help cover up this morning.”

utahime erupted into a fit of giggles and you eyed the camera like it was some sitcom and you were breaking the fourth wall.

“you’re such an asshole.”

shoko pushed in between the two of you to make herself the middle. “you love me.”

nobara frowned as the video ended. while it wasn’t overly helpful, it reaffirmed the seriousness of your relationship with her teacher… but that was obvious from the lovesick heart eyes he constantly had in every video you were together.

although, she would have to show it to maki – the two had suspicions about the kyoto teacher and tokyo healer and this all but confirmed that they were right.

nobara scrolled down till she found a thumbnail of you, geto and gojo sat around a table of food.

“zenin naoya,” you started, chopsticks in one hand as you held a bowl of food in the other. gojo pretended to vomit at the mention of his name. “yes toru, appropriate response, but have you heard about him and the kamo girl?”

geto nodded with a mouth full. “the one who studied abroad?”

“yes! her,” you waved your chopsticks in his direction, “anyways, she cheated on him.”

the dark haired sorcerer made a sound of shock, “they were together together?”

you nodded enthusiastically, offering gojo some of your rice. “mhmm, they got together new years eve.”

“that did not last long,” gojo snickered. nobara peered at the date in the corner of the screen in a retro, yellow font; 15 january 2006.

“best part? it’s not even the first time,” you revealed, picking up some salmon sushi off of gojo’s plate and quickly eating it.

“stop,” geto gasped and nobara was shocked. this man was a war criminal now, and yet ten years ago he seemed so far from it, gossiping like he was a teenage girl.

“which like i don’t get,” you frowned. “i dont know why he’s trying to save face over some two week old relationship. especially if she’s already cheated multiple times.”

“he’s just desperate because it’s the first girl to ever want to actually be with him.”

“oh yeah she really wants to be with him,” gojo uttered sarcastically with a sparkle in his eyes. he would have a party at the downfall of the zenin.

“are they staying together?”

“i think so,” you nodded, holding a hand over your mouth as you spoke and finished your mouthful. “it’s what me and shoko told him to do, well shoko. he facetimed shoko.” you clarified following gojo’s less than pleased expression. nobara didn’t doubt that naoya had caused some tension in your relationship (though she refused to believe it was ever because you had been interested in him) and she wished that you’d switch the topic solely onto that. that was the sort of drama she was after.

“youre telling me he facetimed ieiri to tell her he’d been cheated on?” geto could bearly finish the question without laughing and he shot gojo a look. “odds on him trying to make yn jealous.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from snorting. “oh yeah because hearing all that made me want to leave satoru for that thing.” sarcasm or not, your words were taken literally by your boyfriend who draped all one hundred and ninety centimetres of himself across your body. “oh my god you’re so heavy.”

“it’s just my love for you in physical form. don’t be mean,” he whined.

nobara didn’t even have the energy to laugh quietly at the pathetic nature of her teacher as she felt herself drifting off. it was fine, she thought, only a quick power nap. she’d earned it, watching all those clips expended lots of energy.

“kugisaki?” gojo gently knocked at the young girl’s door. he’d left yuuji and megumi to do laps to check nobara was still alive and well. the illness had made its way through half the school already and while it obviously wasn’t something fatal, he knew better than to take any risks.

he knocked again and waited thirty seconds before he opened the door enough just to peek in and–

“satoru.”

gojo felt his heart drop at the sound of your voice. one he hadn’t heard in almost two years and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so unsteady and thrown off guard. the mere sound of your voice had startled him and gotten more of an upper hand than any curse he’d ever had to exorcise.

although his world had stilled, reality continued on and he was forced to hear himself hum in response. he didn’t have to see the video to vividly remember the day, to remember the smell of the grass and your perfume that were coaxing him into a nap that would make you both late to yaga’s lecture.

“do you think we’ll still be together once high school is over?”

“hope so,” he murmured, half asleep, and gojo wished his younger self was more aware, telling you how much he wanted to be with you, savouring every second he had in your presence rather than sleeping it away.

like that could’ve changed the outcome.

slipping into her room, gojo lifted the laptop off of her sleeping figure (definitely still alive and breathing). with a press of a button, the disk popped out and he set the device onto the ground as he contemplated what to do.

he could break it in half, make it seem like an accident that nobara hadn’t noticed in her ill state. or he could use his cursed technique and completely eviscerate it from existence.

or maybe he could keep it.

gojo gave nobara one last glance as he silently closed her door once more, grateful for the blindfold he wore as he headed back outside to his students.

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts @maliakealoha @cherrypieyourface @k4romis @monsieurgucchi @bofadeezs @777userz @polarbvnny @chonkercatto @tenshis-cake @haitanibros0007 @ba-ks @liaurokodaki @urfavvirg0 @lofasofabread @r0ckst4rjk @vee-ai @aiikuraa @melileli0001 @rinshoe @vinivave @yell0wdreams @sukunasleftkneecap @malikazz243 @sad-darksoul @giannitaa @maliciousmace @name-insert @splxtscreen

this tag list is insane ty all for the support

#snapshot #gojo x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #gojo drabbles #gojo fic #gojo x you #jjk #jjk fluff

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months

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You watch slasher movies? I haven't done so in years (much to my disappointment), got any recommendations, classics, popular, underrated, anything really?

I knew I hadn't watched them in a long time, but it wasn't till I had to try and write something based on classic slashers, that I realized how long its been since I consumed that kind of content.

My only plan so far is that I need to watch The Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Alright, Pandora, it depends on your tastes, and what you look for in a "slasher" ❤️

As you may remember, I fucking love the OG the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and when I got pretty bad last month emotionally I watched it on repeat for two weeks straight. However, if you go in for a regular slasher film you will be disappointed. The first movie is incredible, focusing on amazing shots and atmosphere for nearly the entire first half. It's less of a slasher as we would come to know the genre, and more of an artistic film centered around the horrors of humanity. The series is a wonderful mess of multiple timelines and little continuity, but the sequels better fit the slasher archetype. The best sequel (imo) is the one directly after the first, and it's a black comedy slasher, focusing more on the kills.

Now, slashers ❤️

If you're a nerd and want to experience the slasher history, then before Halloween (which still holds up) there was Black Christmas, and before that the Town that Dreaded Sundown.

The Town that Dreaded Sundown is based off a true serial killer, and unlike TCM which is loosely inspired by Ed Gein, a lot of the kills (except the trombone scene) are based on actual murders, with his mask accurate to the only real world survivor's testimony of her assault. It's very slow pace, and with how desensitized we are as a society you might find it boring, but if you ever get a phonecall from Ghostface, then you have to know the Town that Dreaded Sundown. Fun fact, his mask also inspired Jason's mask from Friday the 13th part 2!

Black Christmas is awesome! I'd recommend it more than Sundown, because of pacing, characters, acting, and overall atmosphere. I love my second wave feminism horror (Stepford Wives (mwah)), and it did a lot better with it's feminist themes than the loose remake from 2019 that tried to be intentionally feminist (ignore the 2006 remake entirely, so bad, so lame, so gross). It did the first person perspective of the killer nearly four years before Halloween's iconic opening. It introduced the idea of the final girl, but she wouldn't become a sexually repressed younger woman until Halloween solidified the trope. It has some great kills that still hold up, and Billy is iconic. I really feel the only reason why he isn't more well known in non-horror spaces is because he doesn't have a mask or outfit that can be replicated and sold in Spirit.

After that we have our most well known slashers, and they're popular for good reason ❤️

A Nightmare on Elm St, Friday the 13th, and Halloween spawned sequels that spiraled off into varying degrees of madness, but still have fun moments.

After the success of Friday the 13th (and the realization of the franchise-ability of slashers) there were a lot of slashers that tried to capture the money magic of the first few success stories. Not all of them were great, but a few notable slashers imo are My Bloody Valentine and the Dentist.

Although Candyman is often lumped in with slashers, like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre, the first movie is more than a traditional slasher. I recommend the first one as a beautiful love story about the horrors of American racism. It's score is still incredible, the behind the scenes are so interesting, and Tony Todd is absolutely beautiful. Such an amazing actor. (Not so) Fun fact: Tony Todd said in the behind the scenes that there originally was a romantic scene where Helen proclaimed her love for Candyman, but they were forced to cut it, because "they were okay with a tall, black man covered in bees.. but, mm, when it came to a kiss, or something like that, it was a little bit too risque..." ( :/ )

(Please please please watch Candyman)

Then the best, or worst (depending on your views), thing happened to the genre; Scream.

One of the best slashers there is, it isn't the first self referential, meta horror (see Wes Craven's New Nightmare), but it did change the slasher genre for a very long time. It was a revival for the genre, since it was declining in popularity by the early 90s. However, post Scream horror was very meta. See Chucky's personality changing from the occasional funny quip, to Bride of Chucky levels of silly (still love him tho). Of the terrible horror trying to copy Scream, I'd recommend Urban Legend over I Know What You Did Last Summer. It was a shame, just how silly a lot of scary movies got back then, trying to be as smart and self aware as Scream was.

But my favorite (outside of Scream) meta horror slasher film is Behind the Mask: the Rise of Leslie Vernon ❤️ took meta to a whole new level, mockumentary style, a camera crew follows a wannabe slasher killer explaining how to be a slasher icon.

I've watched too many slashers to remember all of them right now, but if you want really meta black comedies, Tucker and Dale vs Evil isn't a slasher but a loving joke on the genre, and the Final Girls made me laugh and cry like a little bitch.

A lot of slashers since the late 90s have drifted closer to the black comedy sub genre. Killers that kill for the sake of killing are often B-rated blood fests, that can be great for mindless fun but not so great for box office gains, especially in our current horror renaissance. Slashers don't fit in to the current horror culture. Serial killers aren't scary for desensitized audiences, and the mindless gore expectations set by older slasher films have created a pretty specific genre setup and pay off (dumb people who only exist to die get brutally murdered). It either has to be B-rated mindless fun (Laid to Rest 1 and 2 had terrible camera work and directing, making even incredible actors like Lena Headey feel lackluster, but the practical effects are so impressive I'd recommend it just for the blood and guts (and bewbs)), or comedic (the Hatchet series has great cameos, genuine laughs, and more impressive practical effects, but with good cinematography and directing (still bewbs)). Slashers that don't lean in to how ridiculous the concept of slashers are and try to take themselves seriously often end up falling short, either creating boring killers with no personality or trying to force a plot into a generic slasher shaped hole.

This does include most remakes of slasher movies, as a lot of slashers were remade in the early 2000's with less interesting characters to be killed off by the slashers. The remake of Candyman was an exception, because even though it wasn't as good as the original, it did go back to it's non slasher roots, learning from the mistake that was the third Candyman.

TLDR:

Non slashers that are considered slashers because of the slasher sequels/iconic murderers:

the Texas Chainsaw Massacre

Candyman

Child's Play

Best Precursor to the genre:

Black Christmas

Popular Classics:

Halloween

Friday the 13th

a Nightmare on Elm St

Pre 90's Slashers that I recommend:

The Dentist

Sleepaway Camp (it's divided on whether it's problematic or interesting representation)

Alice, Sweet Alice

My Bloody Valentine

Post 90's meta commentary/black comedy:

Scream

Behind the Mask: the Rise of Leslie Vernon

Hatchet

The Final Girls

Tucker and Dale vs Evil

There are obviously a lot more, but these are a few off the top of my head ❤️

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kerubimcrepin · 21 days

Text

Live-Read: The Remington Comic [PART 1]

(but only the bits with Joris)

While I usually try to go about this blog in an in-universe chronological way, I have to jump forward to Wakfu era here — because the next stop in this blog's plan is the actual, released games of the franchise. Which will take around... a million years, I assume?

TOME 10

Worlds most mentally stable demigod. This excerpt from Otakia is included for my Ush-loving readers, and also to give some context: this guy is keeping some of Remington's besties captive, besides turning his brother into a cat.

"Wait… you're taking me to a… bazaar? am I dreaming?" "Pff… wait till you see what's inside."

In the past tome of this comic, Remington and Grany received a tip, that there exists a magical item that can help them, and an address to a shop, as well as the name "Beating Heart".

ALSO. The store has door chimes. Cute.

"Anyone?" "Yeah, I've seen enough." "They have potions, at least." "Grrr..." "What is that thing?" "??"

They don't seem to really like the place, lol.

"Let's see… "The Treasures of Kerubim"… O.K… We're looking for someone called "Beating Heart."" "Is he the owner of this store?" "Anyone home?" "If we can't find this clown, we could compensate ourselves for the trip." "Hello, sir."

SDGJSAHGUISREHGVDSFHGHHAFGSDFKJGDKSFGSDFGSFDHJS

If you think this is awkward, don't worry. It gets worse from here. Also — apparently, the name of the series is officially the name of the store. The more you know!

Well done little fella… You managed to surprise us.

AND YES. They use tu/toi for the., the 600yo ambassador of Bonta. who is also the owner of the store. who also just overheard them discussing shoplifting.

We're looking for a guy named… sir Beating Heart. Y'know him? Maybe that's your father? It is not my father… It is an object. And… the owner of this store, then? Where is he? In front of you. ... So… uh… you say "beating heart" is an object. Sure. And... could we perhaps see it, that beating heart?

HE'S SO FUCKING DONE ALREADY. he HATES them. also him saying he is the owner is so funny, even if it ISN'T a lie. Like. The store is named and themed after a whole different guy.

Insane.

Beating heart... beating heart... Listen to the rhythm of the heart, replace the rhythm of the body. Beating heart, beating heart... Out of sight… Out of mind… Will you give your soul the time?

Very cool poetry, Joris. I do wonder if this is him talking to himself to remember where it is, him liking this rhythm, or him fucking with Remington for his own amusement.

Please wait here. Careful, Mr. Curious. Small chests can contain big trouble Let's have a closer look. Yeah, bring it quick. Here it is, Beating Heart.

He's so used to shitty rude customers. The fact that he keeps vous/vous'ing them is funny. The fact he only calls Remi "mr. curious" is pretty emblematic of his saintly patience.

Say hello to Beating Heart first. Huh? Say hello to a watch? You have to be kind to objects… each one has its own story to tell. Say hello to Beating Heart… you too, funny talking bow meow. Hello? Hello, Beating Heart… delighted to meet your needle. And how does it work? No idea… Objects do whatever they want. I already have a hard time putting them away. One day, a set of table knives wouldn't stand next to an old sword… a real headache, those two.

I refuse to believe that this scene is not Joris deciding to simply fuck with Remington and Grany, by saying insane things for his own amusement, and making them talk to a clock.

That or he's more mentally ill than I thought. Oh well.

You talk to objects and they talk back! better and better… I know how to listen to them, but that doesn't mean they talk to me. But how can this watch help me? Listen, little guy, my brother suffered a kind of curse. An ecaflip named Ush cast a spell on him that turned him into a bow meow. Ush? The bontarian nobleman?

Either Joris sensed he was being taken way too seriously and backed down, or he decided to go "nah they don't talk to me i just listen to them" route because he knew it'd be a way to confuse the two further and he finds that amusing, or he didn't want to come across as crazy.

But in the end, his reign of making them confused as fuck ends with their mention of Ush — with whom Joris has history, and yet, all Joris says is "bontarian nobleman"... He's hiding that history. Because now he's interested.

And it seems that this Beating Heart could help me become a rogue again. Beating Heart has the ability to give its wearer what they desire most. But to use Beating heart, you need the proficiency in magic that you don't have. It's not for sale, sorry. But for your time, I've got a magic hat that curls your hair. Do you know where you can stick that hat? You little piece of…. brat! Come on, come on… excuse him… he's having a bit of a bad hair day right now.

Notice how fast Joris switches gears: he brought these two this amulet, and was showing it off, before, immediately after Ush's mention, rapidly going "you won't be able to use it, I will not sell it, also your hair sucks ass".

As we will see later, you don't need deep magical skill to use it — you need some self-control, so I really doubt Joris was genuine here.

I have multiple theories:

Joris doesn't want beating heart, a powerful magic item, anywhere near Ush's schemes.

Joris wants them to steal it so that he has an excuse to involve himself in Ush's schemes like the noisy curtain twitcher he is. If this transaction is legitimate, he has no excuse like "UMMM YOUR VICTIMS BROKE INTO MY STORE REPLY TO ME IMMEDIATELY ABOUT WHAT YOU'RE DOING???"

Considering the fact that he puts it away under a glass dome, as Remington and Grany, rogues, watch (and they HAVE talked about robbing him) — I am leaning more strongly towards theory #2.

Thank you for everything, dear friend. No, no, you're not going to tip him on top of it! Hey bro? what's not for sale is up for grabs… As we rogues say. That's right… tonight, beating heart will be mine… he he he.

If my theory of this being a honeypot by Joris is right — then hook, line, and sinker.

On one hand, he doesn't exactly look like he's scheming, on other — he doesn't look too worried.

I think at this moment, his main concern is Ush.

(side note, he's drawn really well in this panel...)

#remicomic #ro liveblogs dofus #krosmoz #dofus #wakfu #joris jurgen

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bangtanhoneys · 9 months

Text

BTS WEDDING SERIES: DIY Together

SEOKJIN

It had reached the two-week mark till your wedding and you and Seokjin had arrived on Jeju Island yesterday afternoon. With so many things to bring including Seokjin’s suit, your dress, some decor, favours and so much more, you had piled everything into the car and made the nine-hour journey from Seoul to Jeju. It had been a great idea at the time but when you finally arrived in your room, you didn’t want to think about wedding stuff. Sleep was the important thing.

However, the moment you sprung out of bed this morning, you had a checklist of things to do. You had already spoken to the wedding organiser, the company organising your decor, the cake maker, the catering and it wasn’t even lunchtime yet. Seokjin had been in charge of unloading the car (with strong warnings not to look into the bag that contained your dress) and bringing everything into your room while you made the phone calls.

“Are we done for the day?” Seokjin groaned, sitting down on the couch in the suite and kicking off his shoes.

“You are but I want to finish off everyone’s boutonnieres and I want to get started on the packaging for the favours,” you explained as you came out with the box with everything you needed.

Your groom-to-be took one look at the box and sighed, nodding. “Okay, let’s order some room service then I’ll help with the favours. I have no idea what the other thing is.”

“You’ll see,” you called over your shoulder as he disappeared to make the call and you settled on the floor in front of the couch, clearing the coffee table and laying everything you needed over it. You flicked the TV on, bringing up one of the many idol variety shows.

You were slowly crafting a fishing lure boutonniere, using artificial flowers that were going to match your decor of dreamy blues and pinks and a specific fishing lure that reminded you of Seokjin. And then you would do the rest of the boys and the fathers.

“That’s so well done,” Seokjin exclaimed when he came back with the food and stood over the coffee table, watching in amazement at how quickly you tackled your task. “Are they fishing lures?”

“Yup,” you nodded as you pulled your gaze away from the TV screen and to what you were making. “I’m just doing Jimin’s right now. Then I’ve got Tae’s and Jungkook’s then our fathers.”

“What an amazing idea. What am I doing?” he asked, clearing a small enough space to lay your lunch out.

After finishing Jimin’s fishing lure, you reached over and pulled out the box that was inside the other box. Inside were large white shells made of plastic and a black pen. “You need to count out how many of these we need for each table. These are the place cards,” you said as you handed over the box of white shells.

“You’ve really thought of everything,” Seokjin grinned as he held one shell up.

“Someone had to take control of the wedding planning.”

YOONGI

The spare room in the apartment you shared with Yoongi, Holly and the cat, had been turned into Wedding HQ as Yoongi had called it. Anything and everything that was related to the wedding had been put in the spare room with a desk, a chair and a mini fridge. It had become your DIY heaven with Yoongi only allowing in if he was helping.

The wedding was five days away and there was still plenty to be done according to the checklist you had on the wall. Families were coming in from Daegu, other families were coming from parts of South Korea and internationally as well. Rehearsals were going to take place in two days, your dress was at your mothers, the suits were ready to be collected and you had one final meeting with the venue and the florist who would be decorating the venue.

It was all systems go.

And it seemed Yoongi had realised that when he taken one look at the checklist.

He had woken you that morning, bright and early. Like 6am early. Shoved you out of bed, made you take a shower, took you on a coffee run with the dog to get breakfast and then had declared on the way back home that he was going to help you with whatever you needed doing relating to the wedding.

Including picking up at least four large boxes of tangerines which had been especially ordered for your wedding.

Thank god for the NBA and the reruns that kept the apartment from sounding empty as you both sat in front of it, the coffee table covered in various bits and pieces. Yoongi was carefully wiping down the small bottles of whiskey and pink gin, ready to put on the personalised stickers you had ordered.

You, on the other hand, were carefully writing everyone’s names on white card cut into the shape of leaves. These would be pinned into the tangerines as place cards for your guests.

“Is this good whiskey?” Yoongi asked, half way through cleaning the bottles.

“It’s from the same place you get your whiskey so I assume so,” you shrugged as you placed the card you had already done on the table.

“And the tangerines are for?”

“Do you not know anything?” you laughed, as you paused what you were doing and held the leaf. “This will be pinned into the tangerine, as a place card so the guests will know where they're sitting. The whiskey and the pink gin are favours for our guests.”

“Ah,” Yoongi hummed as he pulled the stickers closer to his face.

“Do you remember we’re getting married?”

The look you got in return said it all. Yes, he did, just about.

HOSEOK

While it seemed like a good idea at the time, Hobi was regretting what he had suggested. Doing it for the members as gifts had been an easy pastime that he could do on camera with ARMY and it was all in good fun, he could take his time and it would be that.

Making approximately 275 BTS friendship bracelets was proving rather difficult even if the wedding was two weeks away and he had barely got started. Thankfully the BT21 company had jumped in well beforehand and made all the charms to go with it to match each BTS member - an acorn for Hobi, a cat for Yoongi, a rabbit for Jungkook, an alpaca for Jin, a bear for Taehyung, a Koala for Namjoon and a chick for Jimin. They had also made all the colour beads that responded to each member: red, black, purple, pink, green, yellow and blue and they had made the name beads as well.

All Hobi had to do was put it all together.

You had finished the place cards yesterday and the moment Hobi had laid eyes on you, you knew what was going to be asked. Sure enough, you were in HYBE offices that looked like a conference room with all the coloured beads in each of their compartments with the charms in another box.

“This was a stupid idea,” Hobi muttered with a sigh as he tackled 39 bracelets he would have to make in his own colours.

“It is stupid but it’s cute. Who wouldn’t want a friendship bracelet, made by one of the BTS members personally for their wedding?” you mused as you tackled the 39 bracelets you had to make in Yoongi’s colours of black, grey with a cat and the beads representing Suga.

“I bet most of them will be sold.” he sighed as he finished one and held it aloft in triumph. “One down. Another 38 to go.”

“Why don’t you go on live with ARMY while you do this? I’ll just be over here with Suga,” you suggested as you held up the cat charm in question which really did look like Yoongi. He was going to be so pissed.

“It would make this go quicker,” Hobi nodded.

“And whatever we don’t finish here, we’ll take home. Maybe we can rope in the boys in return for cooking dinner,” you laughed as you finished off your Suga bracelet and began your second one.

“Don’t let Namjoon get hold of these, he’ll break them,” Hobi muttered as he got the camera set up. “Hi ARMY! Help!!”

NAMJOON

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?”

“Joon, I’ve got this. You’ve got stuff you need to finish before the wedding which is just over a week to go. I can get these done today and then everything will be finished, and we don’t have to worry about a thing,” you promised as you made your coffee for the morning.

Namjoon was feeling guilty that he was leaving the last minute wedding prep to you while he dealt with finishing off producing and writing lyrics that were breathing down his neck. Not even the prospect of him getting married was allowing his schedule to slow down. If anything it was heating up, as they knew they wouldn’t have Namjoon for a whole week for the wedding and then the honeymoon which was going to last three weeks.

“Go on, I’ll be fine. I’ve got my podcast to catch up on, my office is cleared and ready to get started so go on,” you grabbed your mug filled with iced coffee and you kissed your future husband on the cheek, making your way to your office.

Sent in from America, specially stored and prepped for your wedding, the magnolia leaves were the perfect way to finish off your wedding. The centrepieces you had picked were long foliage runners, mixed in with glassware of candles or floating candles in water, with a few white peonies here and there. Your welcome sign was even decorated to match the same so these place cards were the final thing you needed.

130 names were on the computer screen, ready for you to copy. You had a table placed at the side with the table numbers on sticky notes so you could sort the names into the right tables then bag them up. You were very much organised, everything was done.

Dress collected, suits collected, final meetings apart from one with the venue were done. The florist was getting to work, your photographer and wedding videographer had been in touch. The music had been sent, your entertainment for the night and the day had confirmed the final playlist, the cake designer had confirmed they were baking the cakes and everything was going exactly according to plan.

Even the tickets for your honeymoon had arrived early, along with a new passport for Namjoon.

With your podcast playing on Spotify, you settled in your chair with your marker pen and got to work. It was a bit tedious writing out the names in white marker and thankfully you ordered extra pens and leaves for mistakes.

“Okay, I’m here to help,” Namjoon popped into your office with his own mug of coffee.

“You finished already?” you questioned, turning down the volume on your speakers.

“Half-way but I wanted to come and help and then I’ll go back to it.”

He took the leaves you had already done and the printed list of tables with the guest in the right spot, starting to put each leaf with the right table. In the end, it was the perfect team effort.

JIMIN

It seemed like an easy thing to pick when it came to favours. If anything, Jimin had picked it long before you had even thought about it. And nothing had been said until 150 mini bottles of expensive champagne had arrived at your front door two weeks before your wedding date.

Thankfully you were quite skilled when it came to card and paper and printing stuff so you had spent the night printing 150 tags to tie around the bottles with ‘cheers’ and your wedding date on it, with space to write the guests name if you wanted to.

Jimin, being Jimin, decided that today would be the day you would tie these tags on the bottles and make a date night out of it with takeaway pizza and burgers and some Korean food, some wine to finish it off and the show you both had been dying to see.

“You know, I never realised how much goes into a wedding until we started planning ours,” Jimin commented as he folded his legs underneath him while cutting the pink ribbon to the size you wanted.

“I didn’t realise how much you had to think about the guests more than the bride and groom,” you laughed as you punched holes in the top of the pink card, admiring the way the gold writing glittered under your living room lamps.

“That’s true, we’ve dedicated a whole menu and cake to them and now this,” he added after stopping to count how many ribbons he had actually cut. “But then again, it’s all worthwhile, right?”

“Yeah, the photographs will look nice.”

“I didn’t mean that!” Jimin gently pushed at your shoulder, allowing all the ribbon to fall to the floor.

“We’ll never get these finished if you don’t stop daydreaming,” you added as you put the cards you had finished on the table before you. “And don’t even think about testing them either.”

TAEHYUNG

Trying to figure out what favours to do for 800 people was a nightmare. Trying to print out 800 place cards was an even bigger nightmare but the night before you were due to fly out to Los Angeles, you had managed to do it. The favours, however, still remained a mystery.

However, you had landed in Los Angeles three weeks before your wedding with your parents, your wedding dress, all the extra bits and pieces that needed to be brought over and Taehyung would follow on in a few days after finishing up some schedules.

That meant you had plenty of time to get started on the place cards with your mother and father helping. You had found a place not far from the apartment that sold little red roses made out of red velvet and they had enough for you to finish off the place cards in your hotel suite, with your father sticking the rose down on the card you had cut and your mother sorting them out into tables.

“What are we going to do for favours?” you had asked Taehyung the first night in Los Angeles.

“I’ll see what I can think of.”

“Because we have designers and celebrities.”

The chuckle you got and reassurances did nothing to stem the worry. You knew this was going to be a wedding people would talk about for the next year or so and that was a constant worry for you - to make it deeply personal to you and Taehyung but also taking into consideration of who was coming.

However, the worry was for nothing because Taehyung came up with the idea when got to the hotel room with an extra suitcase. “Books! Look at these,” he said as he opened the suitcase and pulled out second-hand books that looked like they had come from the 1920s or 1930s.

However, some were newer including a well-read copy of the Godfather and the Great Gatsby.

“I guess we need to go book shopping then.”

JUNGKOOK

It was great having a talented boyfriend, sorry, fiance. And it was great when he had plenty of artistic talent that he wanted to use on the wedding in its final stages and final two weeks. You were set up in his parent's house, using the spare room to sleep and store all the things you had brought with you including your dress.

Seokjin, however, was in charge of bringing Jungkook’s suit and the rings and anything important that Jungkook should have been in charge of. Not that you didn’t trust him, you knew how distracted he got.

How he managed to sit himself down at his parents' dining table that was covered in newspaper as he painted the wooden names in black paint which were going to be your guests' place cards.

You, on the other hand, were very carefully prepping the 100 candles the two of you had chosen together. The scent represented the two of you - vanilla for Jungkook, blueberry for you with a hint of eucalyptus. 100 black stickers had been printed with your initials and the date of your wedding in white writing with small purple flowers.

If there was one thing people were going to take from your wedding, it would be the colour scheme.

“How many more of these do I have left?” Jungkook asked, bambi eyes focused on making sure he left no piece of wood uncovered and that the black paint covered everything.

“You’ve got another fifty to go,” you answered as you looked up from where you were smoothing the stickers down the glass of the candle.

“At least it’s not 800 guests like Tae-hyung,” he laughed as he set the name down on a spare piece of paper on the table and picked up another name to paint.

“We’ve got one of the smallest weddings to be fair,” you picked up another candle and breathed in the scent, letting Jungkook sniff it as he leaned over to have a look. “And we’ve gone for the simple ideas of place cards and favours.”

“That’s why we’re the genius couple.”

“Go Team Jeon.”

#bts wedding fic #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts wedding series #bts wedding au #bts wedding #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #jhope x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader

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pearls-and-vignettes · 2 months

Text

Spaceway 70 - Anna

The makeshift cell has a steel table and chair—like in old detective films. He reconfigured the room lock with a passkey only he knows, though he doesn't know how to turn off its failsafe.

With a shudder in the station, the lights turn off for a moment, and a different set of colder lights take their place, dimly. I walk through the now-unlocked door and into the hallway outside. A wall panel confirms my fears.

[Alert: Hull breach in multiple sectors | Primary power offline | Check workteam communications for further instructions]

He's scared. Worse than that, he's scared and paranoid. Pablo has the fear from another life of destruction and bloodshed in him. Maybe it's warranted—I couldn't say. Only he knows his past.

Out in the next sector I finally see someone. Two new guys, lazing on some hallway chairs.

"Anna!" One of them says brightly.

"Good evenin'," I float back.

"Quite hot in here?"

"Aye," I say tersely "A waste reactor's nearby. Makes heat. Ventilation won't be turned on 'till someone turns it on."

"Then who will?" The other man says, daftly.

"We don't waste power on climate control when there's a big hole in the ship."

Another pause, the two men look at each other. It's possible they have thoughts going through their heads, though that's difficult to confirm.

"Aren't you two supposed to be working this emergency?"

"Haven't got an assignment yet," One of them replies whilst the other is still taken aback by my question, almost falling off his chair. A moment, then he too regains his composure.

"Keep your pagers out, lads," I bark, wanting to laugh. I puff my chest and walk with intent, into the next room.

I enter my quarters to the right; a modest room, yet a little more spacious than most. To my left, a workbench with some parts scattered around a broken network module, and my PDA.

[Hello, Anna]

[32.061]

[[%% DIRECT COM %%]]

[Notice - There seems to be a system outage; operating in P2P mode | Ten unopened messages - Priority: Low - Three unopened messages - Priority: Medium - Five unopened messages - Priority: High]

I punch in my code.

[=-= Carol F. =-=]

[CUR.32.050 > L | You got your PDA on you?]

[CUR.32.053 > M | Of course he took it. Meet me at central processing when you can -- they hit deep and I need welding done. All the fabricators are out patching the hull.]

[CUR.32.057 > H | A big chunk of power routing is out. I paged John for a fabricator or two but he says he's tied up. Please be here ASAP!]

[=-= Pablo C. =-=]

[CUR.32.049 > H | ==TO GROUPS: W.G. LEADERS, SPECIALISTS, ADMIN== | Attention -- we have been attacked -- this is a matter I will handle personally -- communicate emergency plans with your workgroups.]

[=-= Jonathan L. =-=]

[CUR.32.055 > H | I know you're busy. We need to patch an LS manifold. I have a fabricator to spare. Just ping me when you're free.]

[CUR.32.057 > M | On top of that, all the cable to kitchens is out. I have a few workers patching it up but we need you for some tight wiring.]

No rest for me. I grab my toolbag from the foot of my bed and run to a utility closet in the hallway. The reserve welding cart creaks from disuse as I roll it toward me, yet it still seems to work just the same. I dust off some goggles and shove them in a pocket as I make for Carol.

Eventually, I arrive at central processing, winded from running with so much stuff. Carol is buried deep in her assistant, probably typing out one communication after another.

"God, this thing is so slow!"

"I'm here..?"

"Yes. Hi, Anna," she finishes another message before she finally looks up, "Let's fix this thing so I'm not stuck on peer to peer."

She moves to the wall, which holds an impressive array of cooling pipes and circuits. Indicator lights flash off and on erratically whilst a monitor spits out warning after warning. At the far end, away from the corner where she started, there is a series of busted conduits supposed to hold thick cable against a hastily repaired wall.

"Here, where the cables go into this contactor array."

She pries the panel off the array's enclosure and exposes a beautiful mess of small, printed traces and goliath cables interfacing with one another. The leftmost portion of this box has severed wire and shattered boards.

"I isolated this module from the rest of the processor. And there's no voltage through the cables." She hands me a drawing and walks to an electrical cart. "Just replace the broken components. It doesn't have to be pretty." The cart, being twice the size of mine, is filled with wires of all gauges, components of all kinds, a work surface with a solderer, and has board printing capabilities. "All the files you might need are on that printer."

"Got it," I reply.

She looks back to her PDA and her eyes betray her exasperation, briefly. "I'll be back in a few to turn it on and debug," she shouts whilst having one foot already out the door. I grab a screwdriver and begin to pull away at the broken components. When they don't budge, I pull out the angle grinder. Rinse and repeat.

At least I have a simple life...

#`twtocwbart

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abiiors · 1 year

Text

Weekends in Manchester - Part 3 // M.H.

I know a place

Matty Healy x fem! reader

Series Summary - Moving to Manchester all on your own was a bit of a daunting task so you started walking alone in the city to get a feel of it. Little did you know, the cute cafe that’s quickly becoming your regular is also the usual haunt of a certain curly-haired musician.

Word Count - 2.2k

Warnings - mentions of drugs and addiction (but no one is using them presently), very small allusions to sex, swear words, mentions of food. I have tried to describe the reader as little as possible but here she mentions her preference in literature.

A/N - if you know anything about The Mister, you know that it’s a wild ride lmao.

(Disclaimer: I have never lived in Manchester and all my knowledge comes from Google. Most of the places mentioned are made up. If there’s anything I have gotten wrong, please let me know :) )

I would really appreciate engagement and feedback and my requests are open!

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Here’s part 2 if you missed it!

This had been the slowest week of your life, you were absolutely certain of it.

You had also been kicking yourself since Sunday evening because you had forgotten to ask Matty for his number.

I mean there was always a possibility that he had made the plans to go to the bookstore just to be polite. He hadn’t exactly volunteered his number…or asked for yours. Did he only do it because he really thought you were a stalker? Did he think if he hung out with you once you would finally stop following him around?

No. Stop!

You scolded yourself so you wouldn’t spiral once again. There was always the option to shoot him a DM on Instagram but you weren’t sure if he handled his own account all the time. So the only option you were left with was to wait it out until 10 a.m. on Saturday.

That was the time you had run into Matty the last two times. If he was really serious about meeting up with you again, he would be there at The Blooming Bean.

You had long given up on trying not to be hopeful. The truth was, you really wanted to spend another day with him. You liked his blatant flirting and his silly jokes, he made you laugh and apart from all of that, you loved walking around the city with him. So as you got ready for the day, you could practically feel the anticipation in the air.

Your plan was a simple one; you were going to go to the cafe, talk to Leah for a bit. If he came, he came; if he didn’t…well, then you would spend the day on your own.

The butterflies turned more and more intense, the closer you got to The Blooming Bean. By the time you entered the cafe, you were so jittery you were no longer sure if caffeine was a good idea. But then you scanned the place and there he was, sitting at your favourite table by the window.

He had his elbows resting on the table as he glanced out the window. For a moment you just stood there and admired his tattoos that you hadn’t seen up close until now. Both times, he had been in a jumper but today he was in a white t-shirt that looked very soft. You could see his leg softly bouncing up and down and it made you wonder: was he perhaps just as nervous as you were?

‘Hey,’ you greeted as you walked up to the table. It almost made you melt that his entire face brightened up at the sight of you.

‘You came,’ he said in response, smiling up at you.

You kept your bag at the table and went to the till to get your coffee.

‘At the same table today,’ Leah said in greeting, throwing a suggestive smile in your direction.

‘Oh my god…’ you whispered, trying to stifle a smile of your own, ‘hello, Leah. Good morning to you too.’

‘So should I make you your usual latte or are you going for a cappuccino today?’ she asked coyly.

‘Oh, you traitor! A latte is just fine, thank you.’

Once you were done being subjected to Leah’s teasing, you went back to your table.

‘No baked goods with your coffee this time?’ he commented as you sat down.

‘Umm, don’t feel like anything sweet today,’ you shrugged.

‘Well then, I know a place,’ he took a sip of his coffee as you waited for him to elaborate, ‘don’t think I didn’t notice you eyeing that fry-up last Sunday,’ he teased.

Once you were done with coffee, the two of you made your way back to the little cobblestone street. You had checked and double-checked on Google to see if Sinclair Books was open on Saturdays and yet you couldn’t help but feel that little twinge of nervousness.

As you had expected, the fry-up was good. Once you both had had your fill, you were up and ready to go. You had already spotted Sinclair Books the second you had walked onto the little street. Even at 11:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning, there were three or four bikes parked outside. You had practically started bouncing on the balls of your feet as you impatiently waited for Matty to use the men’s room.

‘Let’s go!’ you declared as soon as you spotted him.

Walking into Sinclair Books was like being transported to a whole different world. You couldn’t stifle the gasp that left you at the sight of the store. Every wall and crevice was covered with books from ceiling to floor. Not only that, they were all meticulously sorted in genres, eras, literary movements, and authors’ names.

You felt like a little kid in a candy store. You didn’t know where to begin and Matty’s low whistle let you know that he was just as impressed as you were.

‘Oh my god, I haven’t seen these in forever!’ he gasped, practically running to the stack of old Goosebumps books.

You laughed at his excitement and picked one at random from the stack, ‘Mr. Healy, would you like to go on an adventure with me…’ you looked at the cover to read the title properly and chuckled, ‘through a giant zombie nightmare maze?’

He dramatically clutched at his imaginary pearls in response, ‘Why Ms. y/n, I thought you would never ask!’

And so you spent the next hour (longer probably) bickering with each other about which routes to take, throwing accusatory “I told you so”s at each other.

At one point Matty even dramatically declared that he was going to be in charge of making the survival guide in case of a “real” zombie apocalypse. (‘You just made us die for the second time, y/n, how am I supposed to rely on you like this?!’)

Finally, when your bickering got you glares from others in the store, you decided to move on to other sections.

‘So,’ he spoke, ‘apart from your absolutely impeccable taste in Goosebumps books, what else do you like?’

‘A bit of everything really. But I mostly stick to fiction. I don’t think non-fiction is my cup of tea, I mean I do read for escapism and all. What about you?’

He was about to answer when you interrupted him, ‘wait! I want to guess.’ At that, he quirked an eyebrow with interest but gestured for you to go ahead.

‘Hmm, I kind of picture you reading a lot of intellectual stuff, a lot of classics but not like Jane Austen or Charles Dickens, more like something from the 1950s, 60s,’ you peeked at him, trying to gauge his reaction at your blind guess, ‘you do have a bit of an old man vibe,’ you teased to lighten the mood.

‘Oh how you wound me, my dear,’ he pouted, ‘also this is not fair, you could have easily looked that up!’

‘Aaah,’ you leaned in closer, ‘you seem to think I spend my free time googling you.’

Not one to back down from the challenge, he leaned forward as well, ‘don’t you?’ he winked.

This would be the time to realise that you had never been this close to Matty before, certainly not for more than a second. The realisation made you think absolutely wild scenarios, like what would happen if you leaned just another couple inches and kissed him?

Don’t look at his mouth. Don’t look at his mouth. Don’t look—

The clearing of someone’s throat brought you out of your little freak-out spiral. You realised the two of you were blocking the entrance to an entire section of the bookstore. And the old man who had cleared his throat at you looked just about ready to start tapping his foot.

You mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ and dragged Matty away. As soon as you were out of earshot the two of you burst out laughing.

‘I thought he was going to scold us,’ you giggled, ‘also about before…I don’t.’

Unknowingly, you had run towards the American Literature section. He had noticed it too because he seemed to start looking for a particular author. As soon as he located it, he reached for it on one of the top shelves and you didn’t fail to notice how it made his t-shirt ride just slightly higher; exposing just the tiniest bit of skin.

But the moment was over too soon and you felt rather than saw something shift in the air. You also saw the author he had reached for; William S. Burroughs.

He thumbed through the copy of Junkie he held in his hands, ‘In any case, I don’t know how much you looked up about me,’ he swallowed, ‘but there was the…’

‘The heroin?’ you asked softly and he nodded.

You had, in fact, watched some of the interviews and you had gotten the impression that he was quite open about his addiction and recovery. But you didn’t want to push for more than he was willing to give so you simply gave him space to continue.

‘I suppose I feel a bit of a kinship with William S. Burroughs,’ he joked after a while. ‘Anyway, I think you should give him a try. Who knows, maybe you’ll end up liking the Beat Generation!’

The change in subject didn’t go unnoticed by you but you were willing to go with the flow on this one.

You hummed non-commitally to his suggestion and he rolled his eyes, ‘Come on, y/n, let me buy you the book!’

‘Only if you let me buy you one in return,’ you challenged. ‘I am going to find you the dirtiest Mills & Boon I can find,’ you let out an evil laugh, waggling your fingers in excitement.

He groaned dramatically but you had already seen the smile tugging at his lips.

In the end, the two of you had settled on your purchases. As promised, he got you the copy of Junkie and just to fuck with him, you bought him a copy of The Mister by E. L. James. The only catch? He wasn’t allowed to open the brown paper packaging till he got home.

By the time you stepped outside, the sky had already turned orange. You had spent the entire day in the bookstore. Matty seemed to come to the same conclusion because he uttered a quiet ‘wow’.

‘So–’

‘Now that–’

You both started at the same time and then laughed at the coincidence. You suddenly felt shy. You didn’t want to make the same mistake you had made the last time. You wanted to ask for his number but you weren’t sure how to approach it so you gestured for him to go first.

‘Now that I have kept my word, I would like to take you somewhere…tomorrow if you’re willing,’ he bit his lip hopefully.

‘Yes!’ you replied, perhaps a bit too eagerly, ‘but I don’t want to blindly walk into The Blooming Bean tomorrow…’ you trailed off, hoping he would understand what you were trying to hint at.

‘Give me your phone,’ he said as he held out his own in front of you.

He had seemed to linger after that, with something like hope in his eyes but you had been too much of a chicken to try something on him. Just in case you had misinterpreted all his signals, you didn’t want to be subjected to a rejection from Matty.

You had hopped in the shower as soon as you had gotten home, thinking and rethinking about every moment of the day. It was a long shower and by the time you had gotten out, you were ready to just relax and put something on Netflix.

Maybe even be bold enough to text Matty. Biting your lip, you reached for your phone only to find a text message already waiting.

Seeing the notification made you snort.

Your fav Manchester guide: HE JUST CALLED HIS MOM HOT??!!!

You: Hello, Matty…

You: Some context for that message would have been nice

You: Also my favourite Manchester guide huh?

Your fav Manchester guide: Nope! You don’t deserve context. Not after what you’ve done to me

Your fav Manchester guide: Why? Is there another guide vying for your attention?

You: Go back to your book, Matty. I am going to require a full book report from you when you’re done!

Your fav Manchester guide: Yes, ma’am ;)

You giggled into your pillow like an idiot. There it was again, the feeling of butterflies swarming in your stomach and this time he wasn’t even here in person. It felt like your brain had suddenly gone into hyperdrive because that thought quickly morphed into something else entirely.

What would it be like to have him here in your bedroom? In your bed…

You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts, and picked your phone up to text him back.

You: I had fun today… I hope you did too?

Your fav Manchester guide: is typing…

Your fav Manchester guide: Of course I did! But tomorrow is going to be even better

You: 10 am?

Your fav Manchester guide: 10 am

You were excited for tomorrow, excited to see where he would take you. The wide smile on your face somehow got wider at the confirmation text and it remained in place long after you had drifted off to sleep.

Part 4 is out now!

#matty healy #matthew healy x reader #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #manchester #rpf #matty healy fluff #matthew healy #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy x y/n #y/n #series #f #fem reader

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kitkat27 · 7 months

Text

Two Lines

Ilsa discovers life changing information but dealing with Lane again will have to come first …

Posted on ao3 - kit_kat_27

Thank you sooooo much to @justabigassnerd for putting up with me for the last couple of months while I’ve been writing. Couldn’t have done it without your support!

It will becoming a series hopefully (comment if you want on the taglist)

Please let me know what you guys think. I’ve not done a lot of romance and haven’t written for about 2 yrs so I’m a bit rusty. This is my first fic in this fandom, it’s one of the longest I’ve written and one of my first fight scenes. Ignore grammar and spelling mistakes. This will be posted on ao3 too !

Two lines. Two definite pink lines. Two lines blink back at her confirming her suspicions. Two lines that will now change her life from this exact moment.

Two lines that couldn't be erased. Lines that confirm her body was right. All the signs that she had been dodging confirmed her fears.

Fingers grazed against her abdomen, as if her fingers were scared if they lingered too long it would confirm her fears.

This had been at the bottom of her list, hell after being with the syndicate for two years it had been erased from it. And for finding out, a derelict safe house in rural Denmark was not the scenario she had thought of many years ago.

She had snagged the test the other week and let it burn a hole in her bag until she was going to pop under the pressure.

She'd finally given in to the pressure at the safehouse with the safety of knowing the boys wouldn't be back for another couple of hours.

But now she wasn’t sure what to do, sitting in the bathroom staring at the two pink lines. For once in her life she didn't have the next step already planned. She wasn’t sure how long she had been sitting there as the sounds of the boys inthe driveway indicated their return.

Not wanting Ethan to find out yet, she needed to wrap her brain around it first, she shoved the test down into the depths of her bag where she hoped it would stay hidden until she was ready to tell.

‐—--------------‐—-----------------

Solomon Lane was a name that kept appearing, though all four wished it didn't. Every time they thought they were done he would reappear.

And so they were, here again, staring at the computer each wishing that if the computer was closed and reopened it would be gone, and they could go back to chilling in their safe house.

But alas, they did. Brandt, who now made secretary, had sent them an email after word had gotten out that Lane had escaped Alana's grip and had not been handed over to MI6.

Nobody knew if either Alanna or the Mi6 had played a part in his escape. You can only trust a broker so much, Alanna would always think of herself no matter what she had promised.

But the wind was that he had escaped to Europe where some of his still, somehow, loyal followers remained. The organization was heading to a remote village in Kashmir threatening to release a nuclear bomb that would starve a third of the world's population.

Brandt was warning them to take these hints about Lane with a pinch of salt as it wasn't said who had given them this information and to approach the entire case with caution.

She was going to have to put telling Ethan, he would end the mission before it even started if she told him now the news on the back burner for now. If Lane found out they were carrying new information he wouldn't stop till he found.

————————————-

They split up once they reached the camp, Lane would stand out like a sore thumb in the remote village.

Ethan and Luther took to the nearby medical camp, leaving Benji and Ilsa to tackle the village. Ethan and Ilsa didn’t want to split, they worked better together but Lane would be wanting them to be together.

Once they reached the village, they split again to cover more ground while keeping each other in sight. Well, it was more Ilsa keeping an eye on Benji as she was concerned about Benji running into Lane alone again.

She knew he’d passed field tests and could hold his own, but he didn’t have the same skills or experience. She and Ethan had an unspoken agreement that they’d always put themselves in the firing line before Luther and Benji.

Making her way around the village, she did her best to stay under the radar. Lane had predicated all their movements but she had wanted to at least try to be in front. Out of the main village, on the outskirts, a lone house stood. Void of any women or children hanging outside, drawing her to it.

‘Benji, I may have a lead, stay close by and on comms. We'll draw attention if we both go ‘

Her fellow brit already began to panic at her evading the laid out plan, ‘‘Ilsa, you know what etha-’

‘Stay close by, I need to do this’ and with that, she blocked out the following Benji ramble.

Nothing on the outside balcony gave any clues to Lane. Pausing at the bottom of the steps, she could hear Benji arguing in her ear and threatening to switch on Ethan’s earpiece knowing he would stop this.

But she wanted to, no she needed to take on Lane herself.

She needed to find some form of closure from the years she worked in the syndicate, and the pain and torture he put her friends through.

Some closure for the nights she woke up screaming. All the years by herself, all the years alone, he needed to repay.

She made her way into the house. with each step she took her mind was on overdrive, her eyes darting back and forth making sure her six was covered.

Training would tell her that walking through an open door is a trap. Sweeping the first room, there was nothing in the house that wasn't covered in dust or had seen better days.

A blur of movement occurred in her peripheral vision of a figure moving to another room. Mentally apologizing to Ethan and the boys she followed.

The room was the same as the last a movement attracting her to a darkened section of the room causing her to turn aro-

A blinding pain across the back of her skull turned her vision white.

With the back of her head throbbing leaving her frozen, another blow to her lower back dropped her to the ground, the world turning black.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

‘Ilsa, Ilsa. I know you can hear me. I'm a second away from calling Ethan’. This wasn't a good idea.

‘Ilsa you better respond’

Why couldn't Luther have gone with Ilsa, she listened to him the most. Luther was the only one who sometimes could reign her in these situations.

Ilsa’s tracker showed her around the edge of the village, where Lane would want her. He would know she would split from the group and that she would tackle him alone. Pulling out his phone he sent a message to Luther, warning of his worries without alerting Ethan.

He readied his gun as he spotted the lonely house in front of him. Why could the bad guys never be sitting in a coffee shop ready to hand themselves over after grabbing a latte?

Silence. The house was empty. 2 spies would be quiet but shouldn’t be completely silent.

Sweeping all the rooms in the house, the worry grew with every increasing minute he spent with no sign of Ilsa or Lane.

‘ Ilsa, Ilsa are you i-’, blood.

Blood. Ilsa’s gun.

Blood, a lot of blood for a spy who was the best of the best.

‘ Benji, where are you?’, shit Ethan.

‘ The house at the end of the village, Ilsa spotted Lane here and went after him. She’s-’, doing this over comms would be easier than face to face, ‘she’s not here Ethan. Lane has her, she's injured’

Ethan never panicked but he’d never had someone like Ilsa in his life before.

The one warning he had given to the team was to not take Lane on alone, especially Ilsa. She had failed tests towards the end of her undercover stint. She wouldn't be lucky the next time she ran into Lane alone.

Lane and Ilsa were stubborn and hot-headed, with an intense hatred for each other, what would happen when the two were reunited Ethan didn't want to know.

In the safe house in Denmark she had acted a little off, an unknown fear had flickered across her face when their time off in Denmark was being cut short.

Benji was waiting for them on the porch of the house, panic written over his face. He didn't waste time looking in the house, no point subjecting his heart to what she had gone through.

Circling the house there was almost nothing to go on until he came across faint footsteps leading away from the home to some soft tire tracks in the distance.

There were only 2 sets of prints, both too big for Ilsa. Lane had a plan in mind for another location. She would be no match for him unconscious and drugged. Luther and Benji hung back letting him decide on what to do next.

The tracks led deep into the mountains. Wasting no time in telling the other two what or where he was going, he began sprinting back to where they had left the car at the medical camp,

‘I’ll get you two as I come past’

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

A pounding pain pulsed at the back of her head. The first effort in opening her eyes sent a shockwave of pain around her skull. The second she managed to open them she noticed a figure sitting in front of her.

‘Nice of you to finally join me’. The figure chuckled, ‘It took a large amount of drugs to keep you knocked out. I trained you well.’

Lane.

A haggard version of the man she spent 2 years doing every bidding.

‘We’re owed a reunion and a rematch don't we, my dear Ilsa’. He took her face in his hands his callused hands tightening around her jaw, smirking she was putty in his hands.

‘You're not speaking my dear? I thought you'd have plenty to say to me’.

Heading towards the open door he turned at the doorway, ‘I'm gonna give you time to think until that pretty boyfriend of yours figures out where we are. Then I’ll be a man and kill you myself.’

Taking notice of her current predicament, she noted her ankles and wrists were bound tight, sores already forming.

As she was deciding on whether to dislocate her thumb, her wrist snagged on a sharp edge on the back of the chair. All the spy movies loved this cliché and for once she was glad it was happening.

She had to work fast, not knowing when Lane would come back into the hut. Her wrists released themselves from their binding, she immediately worked on releasing her legs fingernails beginning to bleed at the frantic speed at which she was working.

Click.

A loaded gun. The cold metal was placed against her forehead ‘My sweet Ilsa, I always am shown why Atlee chose you. You never disappoint’

Glancing upwards, she met Lane's eyes his gaze cold but joyful. He loved getting a rise out of those who crossed him.

‘I'm glad’

Neither of them moved both poised, when all of a sudden it was like a bullet had been fired and the fight began.

Drawing a knife from her boot, she lunged for Lane whilst grabbing his gun with the other hand. Knocking him backwards from the force of her attack, the gun falling from his grasp.

Swiping her blade aiming for his throat but taking any damage that would occur. The surprise of her attack quickly wore off, Lane began to block her attempts with his own.

A fist collided with her cheek and knocked her back a step. Another landing on her ribs sent an alarming crunch throughout the room.

She folded in on herself, exaggerating her pain from the broken ribs, waiting until he was close enough till she could grab a hold of his arm and use his momentum to flip him over her back.

Before Lane had a chance to react she threw herself on top of him wrapping her hands around his throat and applying all the pressure she could.

He scrambled underneath, fear in his eyes at the strength of her attack, attempting to rip her hands off him. She was squeezing with all her might but her power was in using her thighs to choke. Lane knew her inside and out she didn't want to be too predictable.

She was about to change tactics when a hand in her hair dragged her backwards with such force throwing her against the wall of the hut.

Not taking any time to find out who had joined, she kicked out at her attacker's legs. Swiping their feet, toppling them onto a winded Lane giving her the chance to run for it out the open door.

She had no plan but to run as far away as she could, Ethan was bound to be looking for her now. How far she would get she didn’t know, the pounding in her head was beginning to grow and the broken ribs were stealing her ability to breathe.

The sound of a twig snapping alerted her to someone coming up behind her, the drugs were making it harder and harder for her to react. Her body was now just running on pure fear to keep herself alive long enough for Ethan to find her.

Her new companion spun her around, her arms subconsciously wrapped themselves around her stomach, revealing their identity.

‘Trevligt att se dig igen. Du kommer inte bli lika lätt den här gången’.

Viktor. The bone doctor.

He had a talent for evading death. She wanted to either run or fight back but her limbs had suddenly become heavy. All she could do was watch Viktor as he got a firm grip on her arm and he plunged her own knife deep into her shoulder.

‘Karma är en jävel, eller hur? det gör väl ont ?’

All she could do was keep her body upright as he smirked at the blood pooling on her shoulder and grabbed the handle twisting the blade deeper. Blinding pain took over her body as she felt the blade twist deeper, she was not sure how much longer she could hold on.

‘ILSA !!!’, when did Ethan get here? She could barely see his figure moving towards her as her vision began to swim and her body felt like a lead weight as she fell to the ground protecting her stomach.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Pulling up over the top of the mountain, chaos and horror awaited him. Ilsa writhed in the grip of Viktor, his vicelike grip being the only thing that was keeping her upright. She wasnt fighting back, her arms hung loosely at her sides, there was no recognition of her knowing he was there her eyes glassy and unfocused.

The powerful, badass spy he normally knew was not the one he was currently running towards. A breath hair away from reaching Ilsa, her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she dropped to the ground her body curling in on itself. Viktor let go as if she was a discarded ragdoll he no longer wanted to torture.

Resisting running to her side immediately, he focused on Viktor. He wasnt going to let him off lightly this time. He was going to make sure he was dead this time, and let one shot from his gun hit the centre of Viktor's heart dropping the swede instantly.

He didn't want to fight the man, it wasnt worth the risk of getting injured fighting a man double his height. Somehow Lane had slipped away again. Hopefully, for good, Ilsa was on the brink of death and he’d mentally manipulated Ethan, all everything he set out to achieve

The helicopter blades could be heard coming over the mountain top, Benji had mentioned as they drove that Julia was working at the medical camp, he must have sent a call for help as they reached the scene.

He wasn't gonna let go of Ilsa until they pried her out of his hands. Her body felt like glass in his hands, the blood flowing out of the knife wound wasn’t slowing her face getting paler as the seconds went on.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Looking at Ilsa’s results, something was wrong. Ilsa was above peak physical condition, nothing should show up abnormal. All standard tests, which included a pregnancy test for any female regardless, had been run and she should pass all.

Shit.

Her hCG levels were elevated.

Ilsa was pregnant. Ilsa was expecting Ethan's baby.

She was 3 months pregnant. This would explain why Ilsa's body fought them when she was brought in, her body was protecting the baby.

Grabbing the abdominal ultrasound she wondered if Ethan knew. Ilsa had broken down her walls around him but was this a wall that either had discussed? Ethan hadn’t mentioned anything when they rescued Ilsa and neither of the boys had shown signs of knowing.

Running the ultrasound over Ilsa’s stomach the relieving sound of the baby's heartbeat filled the small tent. Well, she hoped it was relieving, hell did Ilsa know herself?

She suspected she did from the Brit cradling her stomach as she drifted in and out of consciousness during the flight. The heartbeat was steady, the baby was safe and healthy which was lucky considering what Ilsa had been through in the last 24 hours.

The radio attached to her hip crackled to life announcing the helicopter making its way back with the rest of the team. They had to leave them behind to make room for them to work on Ilsa. Luther had to hold onto a struggling Ethan, who had fought with all his might to come with them.

She had about 5 minutes before they would get back to the tent, giving her enough time to pack any baby-related items away. She figured Ilsa needed to be the one to tell Ethan herself.

As she was busying herself with tidying, the heart rate of the British agent signalled she was beginning to ruse. Eyes flickered open to meet hers, pain whimpers followed as she came to.

With a hand on her none injured shoulder, she spoke softly ‘Ilsa, hey it's ok. It's Julia, you're in the med camp. You're injured from the kidnapping and fight, Ethan and the team are safe and are on their way.’

Once the meaning of her words sunk in, Ilsa began to calm. ‘ I, I…’

‘Don't push yourself, save your voice for Ethan’, striking blue eyes travelled along the spy’s own body taking note of the injuries and finally landing on her stomach.

Knowing the question she was thinking, she answered for her,

‘The baby is fine. You're about 12 weeks, I’ve not put it in your notes and told the team to not tell the others-’ Ilsa then met her eyes ‘- I figured you'd want to tell them’.

Hearing the helicopter land in the distance, she put the last piece of equipment away before turning back to Ilsa.

‘Whatever you decide to do, I'm here. Whatever is running through your head, ignore it, Ethan will be happy whatever you decide. He loves you and will support you through every step.’

Ilsa spoke for the first time since waking ‘Than- thank you, Julia. I want Ethan’

Returning the smile, she placed a gentle kiss on her friend's hairline ‘He’s arriving at the camp now, he’ll be here any minute’ before making her way out of the tent.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The helicopter hadn’t even turned its blades off before he was barreling out of it tearing along the path to the med tent.

Finding the main tent he bumped into Eric who was making his way out, grasping his arm as he passed ‘ It was touch and go, we did lose her once but she's ok. She’s asking for you.

She seemed at peace lying on the small hospital bed, monitors surrounding her, a rhythmic beeping sound. The sound reaffirms Eric's words, but he needed to see for himself.

A black eye and a bandage going from her eyebrow to the hairline adorned the left side of her face. A blanket was drawn up to mid chest leaving her shoulders bare showing the thick bandaging adorning where the knife had been mere hours ago.

Her eyes were closed but he knew she wasn't sleeping, she wouldn't until they were back in a safehouse. Reaching her side, he resisted reaching out; he didn't know what had happened between her and Lane.

As if she could read his mind, ‘It's ok, Ethan. I need you please’.

Avoiding the painful side of her face, he cupped her cheek in his hand and placed a gentle kiss on her lips which she faintly reciprocated.

His lips rested on hers as he placed his forehead tenderly against hers. Neither spoke for a while both basking in each other's touch.

The warmth of her skin under his, reminded him she was here. She was back with him. The warmth reminded him how close he had been to losing her up on the mountains.

Blue eyes met his, saying all the words she needed to say to put his mind at rest. That she was back with him and not to beat himself up.

Though the comfort in her eyes turned to concern, ‘Ethan, I. There’s something. I have something I need to tell you ’. There was an intense look on her face as if her thoughts were fighting with each other

He wasn’t sure what was happening. Since getting together both of them had worked together on communication with each other, good or bad.

Ilsa gazed off into the distance seemingly afraid to meet his eye contact. ‘ I was going to tell you back in Denmark but I didn’t want you knowing and risking Lane knowing too. I just need to know that whatever happens, you’ll stay here. Please don’t run as I’m just as scared as you.’

He kept quiet, instead reaching out to hold her hands stilling them from the anxiously fidgeting.

‘I. Ive been noticing symptoms for the last few weeks that i was putting down to the back to back missions, hoping that avoidingg them would make them go away. Ethan. Ive been late for the last few weeks. Ive been tired, hungry and nauseated all the time’, she finally looked back at him letting the words sink in.

He couldnt believe what she was telling him. His mind was numb, he had never thought about this step in his life. Neither of them had so it was inevitable the way they messed around.

The fear of his reaction was scaring her,‘Ethan please say something’.

He seemed lost in his head before that classic Ethan smile adorned his face ‘You’re… pregnant ? We’re having a baby ?’. He seemed to start vibrating with excitement as she guided his hand to rest on her stomach.

"We're having a baby Ethan. We’re becoming parents’

His other hand came to rest under her chin tilting her face towards him, keeping his other resting on her nonexistent bump ‘ I love you. I love you. Whatever you decide to do next I will support you every step of the way. I never thought I’d become a father, but I am so excited to take this path with you’

The emotions were too much to answer him so she pulled him to bring his lips to hers communcting her feelings to him. She was scared of what was to come in the coming months as she stepped into the world of motherhood but she knew that Ethan would be by her side every step of the way.

Swedish translation- nice to see you again. You won't be getting off as easy this time

“Karma is a bitch, isn't it. That hurts, doesn't it?

@radical-sky @izzypuppybutt @justabigassnerd

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abellalu · 5 months

Text

Adventures on a Foreign Planet | Chapter 2

Summary: After narrowly escaping Thanos, Loki is given a chance for a new life. The Avengers allow Loki to live in New Asgard with his brother, Thor. However, The Avengers are not quick to put their trust into Loki. SHIELD Director Nick Fury recruits an Agent who was once said to be one of the most promising SHIELD Agents, to follow Loki and ensure that he has no plans to harm Earth. Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader Word Count: 2.6k A/N: Hello again! Our hero and heroine finally encounter during this chapter. Hope you enjoy and let me know any hopes for this series. [ Previous Part | Masterlist | AO3 ]

You are qualified for this, hopefully.

As you pack up your apartment - most of it going to storage and the rest being tightly packed into two suitcases - you try to remember when you last had a mission this complex or important. Certainly not since SHIELD “collapsed” and reformed in secret. Since then, you’ve only been doing work that the newbies used to do.

All you've had to deal with lately is misbehaving teens and wannabe mad scientists around New York. Now you are on your way to Norway, to meet up with a supernatural being that you have no idea what the extent of their powers are. Maybe that would be a good way to start a conversation with Loki. Though you question if talking to him is even a good idea.

You’ve been wanting a true mission again. But as you think about your past missions, nothing seems to compare to this one. Yes, past missions have been both physically and emotionally demanding, but how do you ensure a God does not try to take over the Earth again?

You also never felt so alone on a mission before. You used to have friends, well fellow agents, at SHIELD.

But it doesn’t matter. You’ve done plenty of work on your work. You can handle this, you just have to. Today you are leaving for New Asgard.

Fury will be upset that you're running late - you told yourself you would start packing early, but waited till the last minute as usual - but it doesn’t matter. You are taking a jet the Avengers have, and, besides the pilot, it will only be you and Fury on the flight. Fury can wait a couple of extra hours, and maybe he will feel the pilot deserves a raise.

Being late is the nice thing to do in this situation.

There is still daylight by the time you arrive at the Avengers Compound. You’ve only been there once or twice before while getting some Stark technology for a few missions. During those visits, you barely even got to enter the building. You were simply handed off the supplies and told to leave.

It’s far larger than most buildings in New York. As you walk through the hallways while escorted by a compound worker, you are amazed by the tall ceilings with windows that cover entire walls letting the sunshine make the inside of the compound seem like it's glowing.

Despite assuming that Tony Stark has an entire workshop for himself, you seem to find his projects everywhere. Plenty of them are still in the development stage with exposed wires all looping around each other. If I touch them will they explode or offer to bring me coffee?

Eventually, you are led into a room that much more resembles a typical family living room with large couches and chairs, a TV and gaming console, and plenty of books gathered on the coffee table. There is a hallway that leads to a kitchen and dining room, and doors that you assume lead to the Avenger's bedrooms.

You are told that Fury will be with you soon and as the compound worker walks away, you immediately collapse onto one of the couches. You curse at yourself for getting so out of shape, but then again, you packed as much as you could into your suitcases.

Lying on the couch, you stare up at the ceiling daydreaming about what Norway might be like. Maybe you’ll get back into shape by training in the forests like an ancient warrior. Maybe you’ll catch up on your reading by the docks. Maybe you’ll finally get that cat you wanted.

Eventually, you hear footsteps coming into the room.

“Well glad you are finally ready to go, Fury,” you joke, your eyes still staring up at the ceiling, “I’ve been waiting on your ass all day.”

“Very funny, Agent,” Fury flatly says, “Get up it isn’t nap time, you can sleep on the jet.”

“Oh but this couch is very comfortable and I-” You turn your head towards Fury and realize he is not alone.

Loki is here.

There, right there, standing behind Fury is Loki.

He doesn’t look exactly as you expected. You imagined he always wore his dark armor with the gold-horned helmet. Maybe his eyes would glow and dark clouds would follow them.

But as you stare at him, you realize he looks like a normal human.

Well, maybe not entirely normal as even without his golden helmet, he towers over Fury. But he isn’t wearing his armor, instead, a dark gray lapel neck coat with slacks. His dark hair curls as it reaches his neck. When you finally look into his blue-green eyes, you realize there is an utter lack of emotion on his face.

He doesn’t seem to care at all that you are making eye contact with him. Loki just stares back.

You clear your throat, then look away from Loki and back towards Fury, “I thought it would just be the two of us. I assumed, uh, Loki was already in New Asgard?”

You felt slightly worried that saying his name out loud would cause a curse to be placed upon you, but a glance shows that he doesn’t seem to care at all that you mentioned him.

“You assumed wrong," Fury says "About both things Agent. Loki is clearly not already in Asgard and I'm not coming with you."

You are staring out the small window in the jet while Loki sits across from you, his long legs are crossed. Your hand holding your face covering it slightly from Loki’s view.

Loki knows you weren’t expecting to meet him so soon. You tried to convince Fury to join the flight to New Asgard, but he just kept on reminding you that this was your job.

You are being forced to be with him.

Well, Loki didn’t have much of a choice either. Only two days ago, he was told he could join his brother in New Asgard. However, there was a catch. The Avengers apparently asked Fury to find someone to keep an eye on him.

“Why? Thor will be there. I assure you if he feels I am being too malicious, he will tell you,” Loki started to feel more uncomfortable in his seat.

Clint leans back in his chair, crossing his arms “Listen, Thor is already busy. He’s helping Valkyrie run New Asgard and he also has some business with the Guardians.”

“I’m assuming you and the rest of your Avengers are too busy too. So I am still a prisoner, but just in New Asgard.”

“You’re not going to be a prisoner Loki, you are going to have more freedom, more than you might deserve,” Loki tenses “The agent is just ensuring that you are going to try and do good. They are very qualified”

Qualified. That’s all he got to learn about you. Loki had to meet you - the person who will now follow him around like a lost puppy - with almost no expectations. You got an entire report from Fury and the Avengers all about him, or at least what they want you to know about him. That he is dangerous and can not be trusted.

But now he is looking at you, while you try to avoid him. Before, you assumed that you could watch him from a distance and mostly keep to yourself. But now, you realize how silly of an idea that was. It is inevitable that you will be spending most of your time for the foreseeable future with the dark god.

This is your mission, and you will take it seriously. While it might be off to a rough start, it will improve. Or at least it needs to if you ever want to get back on the field doing legitimate work. There are some things you don't miss about being a more active SHIELD agent, things that are too hard to think about. But you miss feeling valuable far more.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Loki looking away from you and is now staring out towards his window.

When you were younger, you loved flying on planes. Being among the clouds was like no other experience. The fact that humans discovered a way to fly like birds made you feel powerful. Seeing how small even mountains were below you made you realize how much of the universe, and new perspectives there are to see. You wonder what being on a jet is like for Loki; surely none of this is interesting to him. But you can’t really judge someone who has seen multiple realms for not being impressed by human aircraft.

But it doesn’t matter what Loki thinks. You finally look directly towards him. It is time to break the ice and make it clear to Loki that you are in charge.

“We have about an hour left of our flight,” you said. “When we land, Thor will be there to meet us and show us the residence we’ll be staying at.”

“So I've heard,” Loki said, glancing at you for a second, then looking back towards the window. It's the first time you’ve truly gotten to hear his voice, low and smooth like silk. But his voice signals to you that he is disinterested.

“Yes, well I just wanted to ensure that you were aware of the plans. I want everything to go smoothly,” you said while trying to sit up a little straighter.

He laughs sardonically, “People don't usually come to me when they want their plans to go smoothly.”

“Nonetheless, I need you to cooperate with me. If you stay out of trouble in New Asgard and report to me about your actions, then I shall not bother you.”

“What else would you like?” Loki turns back towards you and leans forward. “Would you like to have a leash on me? Have a camera in my room, or do I even have the honor of having my own room? Should I consult you on everything I wish to say before I say it? Whisper it into your ear and get your approval.”

You feel yourself wanting to shiver. You try to appear stoic in front of Loki, but ultimately your body just becomes tense and stiff.

“I do not plan on treating you like a wild beast, I am here to do my job,” you said sternly. “Whether or not you like it, I am here to stay and you will respect it.”

“You think you should have my respect,” Loki laughs again “And why should a Prince bow down to you, Agent?”

“Because I’m the one here actually trying to keep my planet and people safe, Prince. Do us both a favor and stay out of trouble.”

You stare at each other before Loki eventually rests back in his seat, crossing his arms, and you let out a sigh.

God, how will we not kill each other before we even arrive in New Asgard.

Being in New Asgard is odd.

These are the people Loki has spent his entire life around, the people who made him miserable. For years, they would laugh at him and never care to listen to him. It only got worse when Asgard learned of his true heritage and his actions on Midgard. They could justify Loki being the villain in their stories.

After Ragnarok, they don't view him as much of a threat anymore, but there is still a distrust there. A lingering dislike for him. Maybe if I saved our home, and didn't allow so many of us to die, they could accept me.

It didn’t help that his brother Thor was the clear golden hero of Asgard. It didn’t take long for Thor to become beloved by anyone he met. He just had to show them his wide smile and make them laugh, and anyone would become willing to follow him.

Loki saw that it was the same for you. As the two of you exited the jet, Thor was there to greet you like you said.

“My Lady is a pleasure to have you here, I hope you will enjoy yourself. It’s quite beautiful here, though I do admit the smell of fish from the docks can linger.”

You giggle, “Thank you, Thor, I’m sure I will get used to the smell, I’ve worked in worse places before.”

Afterward, Thor led you both to what is now their new home. On the side of a small mountain, is a wooden house surrounded by green grass and blooming flowers. It is the house where Thor and Valkyrie, the new King of Asgard, stay along with any guests they accumulate

For the first time in hours, Loki can feel somewhat alone again as he sits down on his bed. He can hear the wind blowing outside his window, the only interruption to his thoughts. But Loki knows he is not entirely alone as your bedroom is right across from his and Thor’s is just down the hallway.

You are so peculiar to him, a puzzle he can not solve. He doesn’t understand your intention for being here. Maybe you simply hate him and and to torture him while he is here. Be a pebble in his shoe while he is trying to rebuild his life here.

Loki then hears a knock at his door followed by Thor walking into his room.

“Of course, Thor. Come right in.” Loki rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me brother for the intrusion, but I wanted to see you. I felt as though we hadn’t been able to talk much since you arrived.” Thor closes the door behind him and walks towards Loki.

“Ah yes, well I believe our lovely Agent wanted to investigate your home as soon as possible to ensure there is no way for me to sneak past her watch.” Norns, there is truly no way I’ll be able to avoid her.

“This is now your home too Loki. The Agent just wants to do a thorough job, certainly you can respect that. She doesn’t rush through tasks like me.” Thor smiles, and Loki feels the corner of his mouth rise ever so slightly. “She is a nice Lady, and I have to say she is pretty.”

“Brother don’t you have a beloved, that Midgardian scientist?”

“It’s…complicated.” Thor looks away, becoming visibly uncomfortable.

“Well then maybe you should court the Agent instead,” Loki said. It could be a good distraction to keep you away from him, Loki thinks to himself.

“No, I don’t think so brother,” Thor pauses. “I really am happy that you are here Loki. I know you want to be good. I’ve seen it myself. We can work together, I always believed we could conquer the nine realms together,” Thor laughs to himself.

Loki doesn’t know how to respond. That’s the whole reason he came here, isn’t it? To be good? To be a hero with Thor? But now, he is not so sure that is possible. He is the God of Mischief. Is it truly possible for someone like him to change and be better?

“Thank you, brother,” Loki said without being able to look up at his brother.

Thor wishes him a good night and then leaves him.

Soon he will be all alone again, forever, to do whatever he wants. Deciding what to do… well that will be a challenge for another day.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki fanfic #mcu loki #loki laufeyson #mcu fanfiction #enemies to lovers #loki #Loki laufeyson #loki odinson

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babstheyaga · 11 months

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Fear Me Or Die: Ch. Six: Don't Trust a Cop, Day 2

Pairing(s) for chapter: Oc(s)&Reader, Optimus&Reader, Ratchet&Reader, IronHide&Reader, CliffJumper&Reader.

Previous Ch. - Next Ch.

Word count for chapter: 6.3k

Rating for chapter: Explicit

Warnings for this chapter: Violence, blood&gore, curse words, police

A/n: (from Ao3): B) Back again again again boyz, it's time to part-ay hart-ay! We got the next chapter here for you! And guess what... GOT THE OFFICIAL HEIGHT COMPARISON DONE!!

That's IronHide, and Cliff Jumper!

Then the height comparison: From left to right: Optimus (Of course), IronHide, CliffJumper, BumbleBee, Derek, Ratchet, Jazz, Arcee, and reader!

It's all of them! Once we get a little further into the series, (Currently taking a small break, maybe a week break from writing fmod so I can focus on work and a personal novel), I'm going to get more characters done. No spoilers on who they are, though, of course! it makes me really happy to see people gen liking this series. I don't plan on abandoning it like I did so many other projects, I promise, I'm still fully invested into this one. Anyway, love yall ;3; ttyl see you in like two-three weeks! (Sorry for bad cliffhanger, but also not >:) )

Everything around me was intense. The thundering, slowly becoming darker by the minute sky above was still storming, still raining and keeping my freezing body shaking. I was walking in the direction BumbleBee had told me, the cold wind making the rain feel like hail on my skin, I tried my best to not think about it. The sticks, pine needles and stones underneath me was like walking in hell itself, I whimpered with each and every step.

The forest felt like it never ended, the storm above caused everything to be gloomy and dark, I found it hard to look straight ahead, instead looking down at the ground. Mother nature was anything but kind to me today, and I'm starting to think it might have been a sign. But I was at least thankful for her for the cover she provided me from my scent that they could detect, if she didn't Arcee probably would have found me, and only lord knows what she would have done to me...

I couldn't see past a hill some ways away from me, and I dreaded the thought of going over it. I was already exhausted, let alone bleeding everywhere. I struggled toward the hill, looking up at it then looking back behind me. No one was around, no one to kill me. Well, at least that's good. I blinked back to the hill, taking in a deep breath through my nose and exhaled out my mouth. I was tired, soaked, scared and freezing. And now I had to push myself more. For normal people, this would be easy... I had a hard time believing I couldn't do this regularly. When I started to force myself up and over the hill, I used every ounce in me to push myself to my limit, grunting with each climb, feeling my mind spin and stomach turn.

I reached the top of the hill, looking out when something came up my throat. I fell to the ground on my knees, throwing up the sandwich I ate earlier. I kept heaving up food till nothing came up, my stomach empty again, making my sight blur with panic. I choked and coughed, gagging on stomach acid and when it finally stopped, I tried so hard to catch my breath. The rain washed away the snot and spit dripping from my face, but the awful taste in my mouth was horrid.

I battled to stand to my feet again, but I was persistent. I was going to get out of here even if I die trying.

But my silent prayers for help from any god out there was answered... The road! Behind the hill was pavement, a proper road that wasn't made out of gravel, and I could feel my body shake with excitement. I dipped down and slid down the mount to the road, looking both ways and to my left was a giant sign facing adjacent from me. I made my way to it, wanting to see what it said on it, hopefully showing how far civilization was.

When I approached it, I put a hand up to shield my eyes from the rain.

'Next Exit 60 miles'

Oh... Great...

I flicked my eyes across the pavement, instinctively looking both ways as I stepped onto it, surprisingly feeling it was warm, aiding some relief to my slowly deteriorating skin on the bottom of my feet. I started to make my way down the road, hoping not to see someone I wouldn't want to...

I wondered if there would be any cars that come by, would it be safe for me to get them involved? I need a ride to safety, but I don't want to ruin their chance at life. Getting more people killed is not on my to-do list.

The bandages on my hands were drenched, and when I looked down, I saw the red spilling out on them... Great, now it's not only just my feet, but my hands too. I'm going to need one hell of a doctor, and pray to the lord that I don't get on the news! If they even get a general idea of where I am, I'm a goner.

I couldn't tell if a rumbling I heard was thunder, or if it was a car. I was nervous to look behind me, or even look up from the ground in general. Petrified that I'd get caught and killed. But when I heard it approaching faster by the second, my terrified eyes blinked up from the ground. Coming through the rain was a old Jeep Cherokee, and I instantly knew I was safe. I rushed to jump into the pavement, flinging my hands up and I heard the car's wheels squeak on the wet road, quickly coming to a stop in front of me. I could see as the wipers were at high speed, a man and woman in the driver and passenger seat. The man got out the car, making sure to stay behind the safety of the door.

“What the hell are you doing?!” The man yelled.

The woman got out too, also staying safe behind her door. “Are you okay?!” She shouted.

I could feel my words get stuck in my throat, I could feel my head rushing, my heart was deafening in my ears, the world around me spinning faster and faster, and within only a few seconds... I passed out in front of them.

I was dead, wasn't I?

I killed myself by running away.

I'm in the void of death, nothing around me, just pure darkness. Yet... My mind is running at top speed. I couldn't hear anything, or... Could I? I knew I couldn't see. But I could hear faint voices. Them being far away, but the more I lay there, the closer they got.

“Mommy, she's bleeding!” A high pitched male voice said, telling me he was young, no older than 9 by the way he talked.

“I know honey, make space, she's sick.” Said a female voice, hers being soft and understanding.

“Angela, get in the back with her, I don't want her to wake up and hurt the kids.” A different male voice said, he was older though. Probably in his late 20s, possibly early 30s.

“Kayden Alexander, you look at this girl and tell me she's going to hurt the boys!” The female sounded angered.

“It's okay daddy, I can protect Peter!” Told the same small boy.

“Alright. Angela get in, we gotta get going. She looks dead.” The older man rushed.

“Let me check her pulse again.” The woman's voice came closer to me, and then stepped back. “She's alive, but we need to get her to a hospital... She still looks familiar...”

I heard the sound of a door slam, and that shook me enough to jump in my seat, taking in a enormous breath through my mouth and into my chest, eyes jolting open and looking around.

“You're okay!” The sight of a dark skinned female, her hair long, dyed red and curly said. “Take a deep breath, you're okay.” She calmed, but I looked around, finding myself in the back of a old looking car, what I guessed was the one that stopped for me. A young cool colored skinned boy next to me, holding what looked like a orange nerf gun at me. Behind him was a baby car seat, a small child sleeping in it. A white man in the front seat, looking at me in the rear view mirror with great intensity.

My breathing was harsh, one hand gripping the door handle, the other gripping the top of the seat. “Calm down sweetie, you're okay. We're taking you to the police.” She was cool and calm, putting up a hand as she leaned over the passenger seat, slowly reaching over to pick up the nerf gun the child was holding and pulling it to her lap.

“Why are you bleeding?” The child asked, and the mom shushed him viciously.

“Don't mind him, he's just nervous. You're okay.” She calmed me again, but I knew I needed to relax... There are children present, I can't get them into trouble.

“I-...” I released the tension from my chest, trying to sink into the seat behind me. “I... Ran away from my husband.” I said, surprisingly honest.

“Oh goodness...” The mom cursed, putting a hand to her mouth.

“Why?” The boy asked again, not even being phased by my fearful face and bloodied, beaten body.

“Micheal Alexander, you shush up now.” She hushed the boy, but he just leaned back, still not worried.

“We don't have any phones.” The dad suddenly said, answering a question in the back of my mind.

“Yes, we're coming back from a camping trip, but we'll get you safe, honey.” The mom comforted.

“What did your husband do?” The kid tilted his head, and the mom almost shushed him again but I beat her to it.

“He... Tried to hurt me. But I got away.” I simply stated.

“Is that how you got the purple stuff on your neck?” His boyish lisp was adorable, but the questions he asked were awful.

I brought a hand to my neck, softly feeling the deep purple bruises... Just lie. Don't get these people into danger.

I opened my mouth to say something, the mom catching me off guard with a gasp. “You're the Decepticon girl, aren't you?” She whispered, kind of to herself... I felt my heart drop, my breathing hitching and I coughed out loud. She looked to her husband, telling him to, “Drive faster...” Under her breath. When she saw me looking, she rushed to say a quick, “We'll call the police, just try to stay calm. You're bleeding a lot, we don't want you to lose too much blood.”

“They've been looking everywhere for you.” The dad said. I looked out the window, seeing a sign say 'Next Exit 45 Miles' Well, at least we're getting closer.

I remembered they were looking for me on the TV this morning, but it's surprising that even people without TV's or phones know about it.

“I've been trying to get away...” I mumbled, blinking down to my hands and finally putting them to my lap, feeling a little more relaxed.

“Bless your heart...” The mom said. She kept her eyes on me, and so did the young boy, he put his arms under one another like he was studying me. I tried not to keep eye contact with any of them, worried they will see me as a threat. They're already doing so much for me, helping me get to safety wasn't something everyone would do... What I guessed was the mom's motherly instinct kicking in. She was sweet, trying to make sure I know they're not dangerous, nor that they would call someone bad, if she knew them, that is.

I looked to the boy next to me without turning my head, thinking if I had the courage to talk to him, or would the parents get offended...?

“You're brave for protecting your sibling...” I tilted my head up for a second to nudge to him, feeling a small smile form on my lips when he sat up and looked to his mom for confirmation. “What's your name...?” I asked softly, leaning over to my door to give him space. He looked to his mom again, and she nodded to allow him to answer me.

“M-Micheal.” He answered, and I felt my heart lighten at his nervousness...

“Ahh, Micheal...” I started, tilting my head to the side to not seem intimidating. “Do you know what Micheal means in the bible?” I asked, a gentle tone to my cracky voice. He shook his head. “It means, gift from God.” I quoted. He perked up, a faint grin morphing on his childish face. The mom reached a hand out to him, and he took it, a small moment that I helped create... I felt a little happy, though I knew these moments would be shortly lived.

“Tell her your brothers name.” His mother encouraged, and he took his hand away from hers, leaning the other way and putting a hand into the car seat, offering it to his baby brother.

“His-His name is Peter.” He answered shyly, I smiled more, answering him again.

“Peter... A good name. Strong name. You know Simon Peter was one of the three...” I started.

“The three?” He asked.

“The three closest to Jesus, the three chosen ones. Jesus had many disciples, but James, Peter and John were his closest... “ I stopped, thinking on my wording. “You can always have multiple friends, but the three you know as your best, will always be your closest.” I answered. My quotes on the bible were nothing compared to a preacher, but the years of my mother reading me it each and every night as a child always made my day better. So what I was taught from it, I will always remember.

“What does Peter mean?” He asked, and I brought a hand up to my face to fake scratch my chin in thought.

“It means a stone. Or a rock. So I guess that means that Peter is as strong as a rock, doesn't it?” I said, trying my best to lighten the darkened mood. He nodded vigorously, looking back to his baby brother and holding a finger out to his tiny hands, which Peter grasped. “You care for him a lot, don't you...?” I said lowly, and he glanced back at me, then back to his brother. He smiled greatly at him, and I felt my heart flutter.

“There's no hospitals or police stations for the next 50 miles, we might be able to call someone at the visitor center.” The dad interrupted, shaking me back to reality.

Okay, stay calm. There's probably a payphone or a phone in the center that we can use. If not, we might be able to use the phone at the front office, if there's anyone there, that is. When I looked out the window, I saw that the rain had stopped finally. It seems mother nature might finally be on my side, either that or she's preparing me for something...

“I'm sure there is a state trooper somewhere on the highway, we just need to get there. The visitor center is six minutes away, if we want to try there first...?” The dad asked, and I looked up from my thoughts.

“That would be great, thank you.” I replied, feeling myself lighten. I'm free at least, thankfully. I'm safe with these people, what are the Autobots going to do? Kill a baby? I think not. They're bad people, but they can't be that bad, right? I'd fight tooth and nail for these people, they saved me. “Mrs., Mr.?” I asked aloud, the dad looked at me through the rear view mirror. “Thank you... You guys didn't need to take me in, and... I'm thankful. I probably would be back there again if it wasn't for you...” I thanked, and the woman laid a caring hand on my knee, squeezing it and smiling gently.

“We did what God told us to do.” She answered, and I nodded.

When the mom pulled back and sat properly in her seat, I looked down at my hands, studying them harshly. I knew I was safe, but everything inside me told me there was something wrong. I felt like I was running straight into a trap, if it be when I get to the police station, or at the center... I felt terrible, scared out my mind.

No. Stop. I'm safe, I'm not in trouble, I need to calm down. Everything will be alright, don't think about the past, I'll be safe with the police, they can't get me there. I'm alright, just calm down. Don't worry about it, we're fine.

“We're gonna be okay, kid.” The dad said, pulling me out of my horrific thoughts. I looked up to him to see him spying on me in the mirror. I blinked a few times, looking to the boy who was playing with his brother, to the mom who was looking at the dad, and the dad who was now focusing on the road ahead. When I blinked out the window, I took in a breath and saw the sign, 'Visitors center next right' And when I noticed us moving off the highway, I straightened myself and looked out of the front window, seeing us pull into the lane and stop in a parking spot.

When the dad turned off the car, I looked out to see a bunch of truckers, a few cars behind the semis, nothing was bad, so why am I so afraid? The mom got out, opening the door for me as it had child safety lock. She went over to the side the children were on, I watched her take out the baby and let the kid get out. I slowly got the courage to stand up, my feet still bleeding out of specific spots, my hands as well. I began to rise, and the dad rushed over to put my arm over his shoulder to help me stand, luckily he was on the shorter side, helping me walk to the sidewalk and sit on a concrete bench. I looked up to the mom as she had the baby in her arms, the dad whispering something in her ear.

“We're gonna see if they have a phone in there, do you feel comfortable enough to stay out here alone?” Asked the mom, and I looked around, seeing a few cars that I couldn't name, and when a specific oversized truck caught my attention, I bit my tongue.

I didn't want to be a problem, I didn't want them to have to stay out here with me, or take me back to the car. What if they didn't trust me alone in their car? I don't want to make them uncomfortable... Dammit...

“I'm-... I'm fine out here.” I said, though it was a god awful lie, I even stuttered...

“We're going to go see if they have a phone in there, be careful, okay?” She told, and I nodded, watching them start to make their way to the main building. And I was left outside. But I was anything but comfortable. The car in between two semis was the black truck that I saw back at the cabin. It could have just been any truck, maybe I'm remembering it wrong, but they looked identical. The license plate was on the back, making it impossible to read it and remember what it was... I was terrified, if they were in that building, they'll have to come out and see me. And since the raining had stopped, my smell was back again.

There was a few people getting out their cars, all people I didn't recognize, thankfully... It made me wonder how many of these people could realize that I was the girl on the news. I wasn't sure if I wanted that or not. The looming thought of the Autobots being in the building, the more people who notice me, the more people are at risk.

There was another family of four that came out of a van, except they had a little girl instead of a little boy. She was adorable, having on a pretty little yellow dress and princess rubber sandals. The mom was carrying a baby, no older than a month, probably just born within the past couple weeks. She was precious. I use to wish I could have a child, but now I don't think it would be good. I would be on the run my entire life, it would be unsafe to bring a child into the mix.

Jesus... I'm going to be on the run my entire life... How was I going to explain to the police that I found the Autobot's leader? How was I going to explain to ANYONE about it? Everyone I know could get me killed. Because of the TV, they know what my mother looks like. The whole US is looking for me, let alone the rest of the squad. I'm sure the police will believe me, but how do I know they don't have insiders? It's dangerous no matter where I go. With my parents. The police. My boyfriend. All of it is dangerous. I can die no matter where I go. Hell, I don't even think I'm safe here. The mother promised me I would be safe, but promises are meant to be broken...

“Hey!” I jumped at the sudden shout for my name, looking to the direction of the voice and seeing that it was the dad. I struggled to stand, knowing that they needed me for something. When he jogged over to me, he instantly put my arm over his shoulder to help carry me. “There's a state trooper and a EMS worker in there, they're talking to Angela right now about getting a ambulance out here. They're gonna drive you to a hospital!” He said excitedly, and I felt my heart skip a beat. Oh thank god, a trooper! They tend to be more believing of people rather than regular police officers.

I limped my way up the sidewalk to the main building, seeing the doors and feeling a rush of excitement wash over me as I entered into the building. I looked around frantically for the trooper, expecting to see a man in a uniform, but I only saw four... Figures...

“Over here officer!” The dad shouted, and turning around was... Optimus...

My legs collapsed.

“Matthew, help her.” Optimus told and CliffJumper came to help pick me up. I could tell he was holding down a grin. He threw my free arm over his shoulder, forcing me to stand and I almost went limp in their arms.

All I could do was stare and walk towards Optimus, Ratchet and IronHide. I watched as Optimus was facing me, a still, soft smile on his face like he was amused by me, but serious with the family. They took me to Ratchet, who lifted my chin and looked down at me from over his nose.

“Put her on the bench, I need to check her out...” Ratchet said, obviously despising the fact that he gets to see me again, and in such rough shape too. They led me to the bench next to a line up of magazines and fliers. I sat down and stared up at Ratchet with wide, petrified eyes, my mouth slightly ajar, looking like a idiot. He kneeled down before me, allowing me to see Optimus come over with a small notebook and pen in hand.

“Run me through what happened before you saw her.” He asked.

“We were driving from the state park's camp ground, it was raining and we couldn't really see too far. The trip went well, no bears or wolves showed up this time! But there was a camper in a RV that said they saw this girl on the news, and they said to keep an eye out of her on the way back to the city.” The mom said.

“And where did you say you found her?” He asked the mother, and she readjusted the baby in her arms.

“Probably 40 or 50 miles away from the state park campsite, we were just coming back from a family trip.” The dad came to her, pulling the small boy to his side. I couldn't believe he was playing these people like a goddamn fiddle!

“Did you find her in this condition?” He asked, paying my awestruck expression no mind.

“Worse, actually...” The dad scoffed, the mom shushed him.

“She passed out in front of our car, Kayden almost ran her over!” The mom said, shocked.

“And where did you say she came from?” Optimus asked.

“We're not sure, we think she might have been walking the roadside since the camp ground... That's where we heard about her missing for the first time, another camper said he saw her, but we just assumed it was on the news.” She replied.

Ratchet was too busy undoing my bandages, what I knew for a fact was him faking looking at me, as he wasn't actually doing anything to me. He looked over his shoulder a couple times from the corner of his eye, making sure no one was watching. I was still dead silent.

“Around what time did you spot her?” He asked.

“Um...” She looked to her husband.

He rushed to answer. “Around 2:20.” He stated.

“Is there anything that happened during your drive here, anything usual? Cars tailgating you, other people on the side of the road, possibly a hitchhiker?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“No, nothing like that. Everything was normal besides the fact that she was scared to death!” She took in a breath, looking over at me with pure concern.

“You said you think she might have been at the camp ground... Did you see any signs of her there?”

“No, not at all! But there's no other places that she could have come from! Besides maybe that old cabin camp ground, but that place has been abandoned for decades! Oh jeeze, do you think they were holding her there...?” She whispered the last part.

“We visit that area regularly, ma'am. Kids nowadays want to start fires, or have parties around there. You've heard the legends around that area, I'm sure.” He comforted. She gasped.

“That horrid ax man, I'm sure of it! I've heard the stories of those poor children going missing, but... I was never sure if they were true or not.” Her voice was dripping with concern.

“Most of the legends are fake, but there have been dozens of reports of families going missing back when the cabins were populated.”

“Oh thank goodness... We've always thought of taking a look around that place, but from what he know it's locked up, right?” She asked.

“Correct ma'am, we keep a tight hold around that area, as it's a big fire hazard with all the old clothes and sheets in the cabins. But luckily most of them are caved in or already burned down.”

“You're doing an amazing thing for the girl, sir.” She thanked. Optimus nodded the entire time, and when he realized he had enough information, he closed the notebook and clicked the pen, stuffing them both into his back pocket. I looked away from him for just a second to see IronHide on the phone, obviously being sneaky and not wanting them to hear. Cliffjumper was standing next to Ratchet, his arms crossed and eyeing the family, seeming awfully distrusting.

“Thank you for reporting this, you probably just saved this girls life. Lord only knows what she went through out there. You're her guardian angel.” Optimus praised, holding her free hand lovingly.

“It was all God's work, I knew there was a reason we needed to come out here. God has her in his sight.” She looked to me and smiled gently, I just kept my eyes on Optimus.

“Johnathan, is she okay?” Optimus said, referring to Ratchet. He took in a breath, fake stress as he stood and shook his head.

“She's lost a lot of blood. Her wounds are full of dirt and will most likely get a severe infect if we don't get her to a hospital soon.” He answered. The mom gasped, putting her free hand to her mouth and tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Will she be okay?!” She came to his side and put a hand on his shoulder. He put a caring hand on hers, trying to comfort her though I knew he was lying.

“If we can get her home, she'll do just fine.” Jesus, these guys were award winning actors...

“Get her to the car. We already have EMS on the way, we've got it from here.” Optimus said, and the mom went in for a hug.

“What was your name again, officer?” The dad asked.

“Demetre Finley, Sir.” The dad reached out his hand and shook it, the both of them sharing a small moment. He turned from the couple and went to my side, his back to them and winking down at me for a second before turning back around to face them. “Do you need help to stand?” He said, hinting at the first time me and him talked alone. I couldn't help the small tears forming in my eyes, opening my mouth properly but nothing came out. Just pure shock filling my body and face. He nodded and dipped down, picking me up bridal style and beginning to take me out of the building and away from the couple.

“Please...” My voice squeaked, barely even a whisper it was so small. I watched them disappear from my sight, the mom waving to me and the dad holding his son tight.

CliffJumper opened the door, allowing for Optimus to walk through, and just like that... They stole me again.

They took me away from everyone, Optimus saying a quick, “Keys, Ratchet.” And Ratchet handed them to him, his huge hands having no trouble in taking them while holding me. They took me away from the walkway, back onto the pavement and towards their car. When he was away from seeing eyes, he threw me over his shoulder, and it was then that it hit me like a train. I choked on the words in my mouth, pushing myself up and on his shoulder, seeing he was taking me to the truck.

“Wait- No no no- Please- No-” I began to beg, but CliffJumper ran up behind Optimus, putting a hand to my mouth and shushing me with his other.

“Shhh, baby. It's alright, don't make a scene.” He hushed, and I stared, stunned that they managed to take me again.

Optimus opened the back door, practically throwing me into the seat. I stumbled up, fear lurking in my mind as CliffJumper climbed on the stair and pushed me back, sitting in the seat closest to the window. I jumped again as IronHide opened the opposing door, shoving me back and I was forced towards CliffJumper, who elbowed me. I sat up again, this time only sitting in the middle seat, breath on edge and staring intently towards the front window. Ratchet got in the passenger seat, and Optimus got in the divers. He took no time with starting it, but stopped when he looked over his shoulder.

“Andy?” He barked.

“Already here.” IronHide answered.

“Take the kids.” He replied darkly, I jumped, looking between IronHide and Optimus frantically.

“Wa-Wait- Nononononono, you-you can't hurt them-!” I whimpered, Optimus interrupted.

“You should have thought of that before you ran away.” He said, then put the truck in drive and began our way back to the cabin.

The drive back was intense. No one dared talk, the livid Autobot leader was staring darkly at the road ahead, his grip on the steering wheel deathly tight, and if looks could kill, all four of us would be corpses. He was enraged, and no one wanted to mess with him. Occasionally I would see IronHide look over at me, or CliffJumper sneak a glance, but nothing prepared me for when Optimus glared at me from the rearview mirror. I was a goner, I knew I was.

I couldn't move a inch from my seat in any direction, the two people beside me hogging up their seats and some. My knees were latched together, my hands sealed to my lap, I stared intently at the bottom of the center consul.

How was I going to make it out of this one? I'm a dead man walking.

I was ossified to my seat, not even thinking about moving, let alone talk. Everything felt like it was in slow motion, watching my life go by so passively, I didn't know what to do. I was going to be six feet under their cabin, and there wasn't a damn thing stopping it.

The mother told me I was safe. The dad told me it would be okay. So why am I here? How am I here? How is this even possible? Being caught twice in a week by the Autobots... The second time being an accident. I knew it was a trap, and I ran straight into it, like it was perfectly planned. Was this BumbleBee's idea all along? Did he call in and have them watch me? All I know is I'm heading back to my death.

We got to the driveway, it being obscenely long as we drove down it. I looked up to the front window without moving my bowed head, the outside going slower as we had to go through gravel. I felt the rocks in the road making the car bounce, I tried not to bump into the two men around me. I took in a breath through my nose, trying to be silent as I saw the cabin approaching. I watched CliffJumper and IronHide hold onto the door handle, preparing themselves to jump out as soon as the car stops. And when it did, the two doors rushed open, darting out like there was a bomb.

I watched Optimus take the keys out the car, throwing them to Ratchet who caught them and they both got out. I was still too scared to move, but when Optimus went to the door to my left, he instantly reached in and grabbed for me. I jumped out of my skin, falling on my back and trying to crawl away from him, but he gripped my ankles, yanking me towards him and grabbing the shirt on the back of my neck. He dragged me out the truck, me falling out as it was tall, but he gave me no time to catch myself, pulling me along side him, my knees and legs scraping on the gravel.

I was a doll in his hands, dragging me along him as he barged into the cabin. “Autobots!” When we were fully in, he threw me to the ground. I caught myself on my stomach, looking up to see BumbleBee, Arcee, Jazz and... Derek. He was alive!

Optimus stomped his gigantic boot into my back, slamming me to the floor, and my face hit the wood.

“You have 1 minute to explain yourselves.” He bellowed. All three of them rushed into action.

“Me and Jazz went out for a cigarette-”

“I was just having a ciggie when-”

“Then Bee came out being all angry-!”

“Then we heard a shout from the woods-”

“But I found Jones with a AX-”

“The lake was empty so I went back to the shack-”

“We beat Jones up because, I mean, he shouldn't have ran away ANYWAY-”

“I just went back to the cabin with Arcee-”

“THEN WE LOST HER!”

“THEN WE LOST HER!” The both of them said in sync.

All three of them went silent. I couldn't see BumbleBee properly with my head plastered to the ground, so I tried my best to listen. Derek was across from me, his head bowed, his face slowly dripping blood, a pool of it on the carpet he was sitting on next to the couch. Praise the lord, he's at least alive... For now.

Optimus went silent, looking to Derek, when he asked a low, daring, “This was your idea?” His voice was laced with anger, every part of him pissed off and ready to kill.

Derek looked up slowly, He only could see out one eye, his nose completely broken, and lips busted to high heaven. His breathing was slow, he was obviously exhausted. I wanted so bad to get up and help him. He looked to me, his expression not changing, probably unable to. He blinked back to Optimus, then nodded.

“Derek... No...” I whined, but Optimus wasn't ready for me to talk, he put his boot on my face, squishing me and I whimpered.

“You take full responsibly for this?” He barked, Derek stared. No, he'll get killed, I can't let this happen...

“Derek...!” I cried, a little louder, not caring what would happen to me. Optimus ground his boot into the side of my face, and I sobbed.

Derek kept his eyes on Optimus, unwavering, an expressionless face and blood seeping out through his entire body. I was in sorrow, I could help him, I could save him! I lost him once, I can't let him go again.

“Please!” I choked, and Optimus about had it with me, he took his boot off my face, but I couldn't react in time for him to kick me in the stomach. I coughed, gagging at the feeling of stomach acid coming up my throat.

“Answer me, Jones!” He snarled, and put his boot on my back again. I tried to push myself up, thinking I could outsmart him, but he slammed me back down, now putting more pressure on me.

Derek wasn't fighting, his hands tied behind his back, his legs underneath him as he sat on them, the unforgiving, enduring stare made every inch of me cry out. He was giving up, he couldn't fight anymore, he knew he couldn't win this, and it was killing me.

Derek nodded, a slow, gentle nod. Optimus straightened himself, looking around at all the quiet, dead still people. They were terrified, and rightfully so. I couldn't move, I couldn't get up to help, I was stuck here with these heathens.

Optimus looked to IronHide and CliffJumper who were at the edge of the living room, his glare intense.

“Drown him in the lake where they found him.”

#bumblebee x reader #optimus prime x reader #dark fic #transformers fanfiction #fem reader #transformers x reader #fanfic #bumblebee x you #optimus prime x you #bumblebee x y/n #optimus prime x y/n #x reader #reader insert #humanformers #fanfiction

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iamafanofcartoons · 1 year

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Rabbit Debunks Hbomberguy’s “RWBY is Disappointing Video” and explains why the Critics are wrong about RWBY. Part 1 of 2

Making a thread reacting to the hbomberguy RWBY is Disappointing video.

Mostly as a refresher and also because there’s been a lot of dissension regarding it so why not.

Intro Calls it R (Rue) By lmaoo.

You’re not supposed to pronounce the W So the gist of it, is that he feels like it has great concept that could be interesting, but fails to execute it in any meaningful way???

Like overall it’s bad but there’s few good glimpses-

Of what could be a great show.

I guess for now I guess I can give it the benefit of the doubt and assume good intentions so far.

No words on the History of Monty Oum and RT history.

I mean it pretty much all checks out

Though immediately admitting your bias against the show takes the validity of some of your criticisms away ngl.

So he loves the Red Trailer but brings up the views it gained and then brings up the views of the episodes (Vol 1 ep 1 and 2) as a sort of gotcha like “oh see the trailer is more popular than the episode like look at the 15M to (episode 2) 6.8M ratio!!!”

Like those are two- Wildly different things my guy

But what’s up with that “Red Like Roses Part 1 is the best composed music Jess has ever done” take?????

That’s wild asF fr.

Like no way you listened to the soundtracks of V1-3 and still have that opinion.

Like it’s amazing but????

“Does she get the scar from the fight or from something else, oooo mysterious”.

Is this a bit????

She so obviously gets the scar from the fight so I hope it’s just a bit lmao.

Also the complaint about Adam is so weird?

“He’s so obviously a bad guy that it doesn’t make sense”

“Since there’s already wolves set up as the baddies in the series”

Like, it’s not word for word what he said but that’s the gist of it?

It’s a bad and very nitpicky complaint since there are many series with more than 1 antagonist and antagonistic force.

I don’t know.

Saying “it’s coming from a well meaning place” but then saying it’s extremely bad, followed up by an intro song saying that RWBY is lame and it sucks all while dedicating it to Monty is…. So disgusting??? And very disingenuous???

Using the ending of Vol 2 as a point in your “they don’t know their story” when Ruby is laying down all the things that they have yet to solve (leading into the new volume and this laying down the groundwork for it)

It’s obviously in your face my dude.

Ah damn, a little out of order, but is there instances where Miles or Kerry acknowledges good faith criticism? Panels? Deleted tweets? Anything?

Mainly just curious if it’s true that they haven’t and he just didn’t do the research by saying he “has a hard time finding any”

Another thing. Forgot to mention.

Really wish he prefaced his complaints about the voice acting and writing that he understood that the studio itself was amateurish and small with not a lot of budget to work with. (Unless that’s true) not that there isn’t criticism but that- There are TANGIBLE reasons why it’s the way that it is.

Where Do We Even Start?

Uhhh they never dropped the Dust Theft plot line????

Volume 2 was literally the culmination of the dust theft and the reason is because of Cinder’s plans.

Another thing that’s in your face but just, weirdly you gloss over???

“The intro doesn’t set up the story properly… leaves out the fragile peace between the nations…. Leaves out faunus… leaves out semblances…”

Quite literally, the intro talks about things that weren’t even revealed until Vol 4 to 9. The intro is good and sets up what it NEEDS-

Like sure you can say “oh but it’s only added till later when they got the story that they wanted to tell straight”

Mate, a pro tip for a lot of writers renowned/acclaimed have admitted that some of their works or some of their best writing decisions were made by the seat- Of their pants.

You think Naruto, one of the most iconic and popular anime of all time would have spun into how it is just off the intro of the first episode?

What about Bleach?

ATLA?

One Piece???

There are so many instances where the intro just isn’t all encompassing bc- That just isn’t how story writing goes.

You can have the best most rigid outline in the whole world, but at times you’re gonna go off script because there’s something you want to expand upon more or explore.

Ends off this segment by saying that RWBY’s story is interesting and it has neat ideas (backahandedly by adding “to write a wiki about”) but the storytelling only gets worse.

Which, I sort of disagree with???

It’s not stellar by any means, but I chalk that up with them- Not having the sort of resources available.

However from what they managed TO put together it was coherent enough to convey what they were meaning to portray.

Though I do have my gripes with certain aspects of the first two volumes.

But from V3 on? It’s only gotten- Stronger.

Yes I harp on V5 a LOT and it’s still one of the weaker volumes, but the conversations and character dynamics where stronger than they’ve been.

It was mainly the animation in the last few episodes of the giant fight that I just, wasn’t vibing with at all.

Worldbuilding and Conveyance

So next he talks about how aura was explained.

Bringing up both Harry Potter and ATLA and how they tell it as an example.

Following it up by making a rwby edit to make it seem as if it was mundane and boring.

Which isnt the case at all.

If you- Actually take the time to watch the scene.

It's about 1:20 long and while the explanation of what Aura does is being told to the viewer, it shows Ren taking down the King Taijitu with his aura.

It's another valid form of story telling because it's not just two characters talking on screen.

it's also giving us an insight of how it would be put into action.

"No one just happens to have full on speeches prepared in case anyone is to ask"

Uhhh, have you met Weiss?

Even the examples you gave literally is Hermione and Katara.

"Why does Jaune not know about this?

When he came from a long line of hero's and monster Hunters."

Idk, how does Naruto not know about Chakra despite 8 years as a academy student.

He probably just skipped out on it or didn't take it seriously enough.

He never went to- A prep school like Signal either.

His transcripts were faked, so you could easily say he went to Beacon with nothing more than a Dime, A old Rickety sword and a dream lol.

Also Pyrrha is super smart and also a really great battle tactician.

Of course she would be able to- recite what Aura does word for word.

It's not mischaracterization.

You just want to twist that narrative against her.

And not just that, I feel a strong mischaracterization of Jaune.

If Jaune is played off as an idiot for jokes, that's cool. But if he's shown to just not- Understand or doesn't know about the world at large, then that could hint at the fact that Jaune is more than just an idiot.

He's probably born in the sticks/boonies.

A country bumpkin if you will where Hunters aren't all that well known nor pop culture.

It doesn't dumb down the other characters.

Because Weiss is frustrated herself that someone so famous isn't recognizable by anyone and everyone in the world.

Same thing with her and the SDC

For Christ sakes, he only knew Pyrrha from a cereal box be fr

Well he brings up the Jaundice thing and yeah that's fair, a lot of people have gripes with that (i'm not one of them) and brings up how Pyrrha is only really a character for Jaune's development as a fighter and romance option but not much else on her own.

Which... Yeah I kinda- get that too.

Like, I liked Pyrrha too, but I do wish she had more to do in V1 and 2.

But in V3 is where she shines.

Hell there were so many people who did cry and got shocked by the end of Vol 3 even with the amount of screentime she gets.

"Praise RWBY for being feminist and progessive cause most of the mcs are women... But Jaune has 4 episodes dedicated to him, and has the coolest girl in school flirting and helping him become a stronger warrior."

Jaune isn't the main character.

How I've always viewed RWBY and JNPR has always been: RWBY as the protagonist and JNPR as the deuteragonist.

They hold about the same amount of importance because of how close their teams are.

So of course you're going to want to give the deuteragonist development and screentime to.

And yes Jaune had Jaundice.

RWBY still has an ABSURD amount of episodes dedicated to them as well so the balance/ration will always be in RWBY's favor regardless of how you feel about Jaune as a character and Jaune's importance to the story.

Same goes for the rest of NPR

"The writer's dont know what Yang's semblance is.

It goes from her being angry, to it being her taking hits and she transfers that energy back to them by hitting them again, and then temper tantrums, and then re-xeplain it as a redirection of energy stored from hits."-

Uhh, no.

Her semblance has always been about redirection of stored energy from attacks and aiming them back at the opponent.

Every single time we see her use it, it's always after she's taken several hits.

It's probably still possible to use it without taking hits, but its more than- likely less powerful.

He goes on to talk about how semblances are abstract and only gets mentioned 14 episodes later.

Which sure ok, but the gist of them and how they work are still easily within the story.

Could they have expanded upon it more earlier on? Yeah they could.

But to sit there and say, "When Pyrrha used her abilities and Ruby and Weiss look at her like she was weird and surprised and confused she has powers too"

no no no no no, that is grossly misreading the scene.

Pyrrha has kept her semblance a secret from anyone and everyone.

No one knows what it is or if she even had one.

They were just confused by what she did, why her hand glowed black, and why her hand was out.

It had nothing to do with them being confused about why someone else had a semblance, but more so they never knew what Pyrrha's was.

and also, the reading of Semblance = magic is both meh and eh.

Like if you looked at any and every single semblance that exists in RWBY, every single one of them have to do with concepts that has nothing to do with earth, wind, fire, and water.

Whereas Magic in the series- has Maidens throwing storms, lightning bolts, fire, ice, etc. at any enemy they choose.

That's the major difference between magic and semblance.

Magic is divine, naturalistic. Semblances are more man made if that makes sense.

Man he really does not like how semblances are portrayed/exposited.

Like it's been just as long as he harped on for Pyrrha expositing the aura scene.

like the exaggeration that he's going to, to explain this is kinda crazy

It's not a semi complicated concept at all, like he said it was.

It's very easy to follow and very easy to understand. he brings up Emerald and Cinder knowing about it, but doesn't bring up the fact that Pyrrha had to have put it in her application for Beacon or her personal- record that only Beacon has track of.

A record that they broke into with the helps of Watts, but not just that.

But Mercury also figured it out because he's an intelligent fighter just like Pyrrha is.

You can just say that Pyrrha's opponents were all just dumb for not figuring it out.

But no, it's just bad writing I guess.

Brings up WoR as an example of not being able to tell the story completely and labels it as homework.

It's not necessarily out of the norm though.

There are lots of character guides, extra material that expands on characters, worlds-

nd ideas that you can't really put the time in the show to do.

Like let's look at the first 3 volumes and how most episodes where 12-15 minutes long.

And even then they were still trying to get the hang of writing for something so massive as RWBY.

Having extra material so readers can get a better understanding of the world around them isn't bad. because even then, most everyone knows who Faunus are.

How Aura works, what a semblance is. all of these on a surface level.

If you want to dig deep, thats what WoR is for.

Unless you just wanna insult the show and embrace ignorance?

Some Positive Examples

Such a nothing complaint really.

Just Miles and Kerry's writing vs Monty's character acting (in terms of how he conveys the four in a team fight (example being Team RWBY vs Mecha Roman)).

I mean, I dont know what to really say here.

"The writers are so busy writing drama and wacky skits to explain why they're friends while Monty is putting in the REAL work with the fight scenes and showing how close they are and how far ruby has come at becoming a leader."

Yeah... Cause that's what writers and animators do

Briefly touches on Ships and how Monty, Kerry, and Miles referenced them in the fight. (also decided to call it creepy since Ruby is 15 and the other girls are 17...

Which isn't that bad??

Like Sophomore and Senior in High School really).

Wasn't Ichigo Kurosaki 15 and Naruto not even 13?

Also says they didn't make a name- for Ruby and Yang because of the certain fans that ship those two together so they avoided that one altogether

.... Which yeah??? Did you want them too lol??

I can't seem to see his point of bringing this up because on one hand it feels like he's admonishing them for it, but on the other hand he seems... like he's a little upset that they dont have a team attack name?

Maybe just at the inconsistency of it. Which i can understand.

I would have maybe came up with one that isn't fandom made so they can have a cool SISTERS team attack, like Rose Dragon!

Ends off this segment talking about more Miles and Kerry vs Monty (with Shawn being added in).

Another example of writing vs character expositing through animation by using the Pyrrha vs Mercury fight as well as the exposition between Emerald, Cinder, and Mercury.

Lots of talk about animation being weird and how he's seen worse animation but the stories were good enough to overlook it.

I'd be a broken record by stating this again and again.

But just look at what they had to work with. Look at how divided the writing and the animation- really were with Monty coming up with new characters that the team had to shove in last minute.

Look at Poser even and how the engine was something really only Monty and Shane (oops I made a mistake in that other post) could work to the level that they did.

Look at RT and even CRWBY at the time.

And now look where they are now.

You can't tell me that they've gone downhill when most of your gripes that you've complained about are/have been fixed in the later seasons.

Gonna end it here and make it a 2 parter. This thread is-

Long enough and I'm tired extremely lol.

I'll do a QRT tomorrow and start it back up.

If anyone has more to add or correct me on, feel free to QRT anything you feel i didnt do a good job of explaining or just missed in general.

Any help is appreciated.

https://twitter.com/PhonyMangaka/status/1653898140678856704

#rwby #rwby analysis #rwby is enjoyable #rwby is a good show #rwby is good #just give rwby a chance #all we're saying is give rwby a chance #give rwby a chance #phonymangaka

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jezmmart · 2 months

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Chamomile Comic Trivia #31

#159 - Notice

It's Sam! I wish I had written down more about my decision to add her, although at this point I'm fairly sure I wasn't certain she was going to become a main character - in fact it was RIGHT around the week this posted that I began work on the first proper cover art for the series which of course did not include her.

Her design was based off this old one-off pin-up girl art from 2017, technically making her the first ever major Chamomile Comic character to exist, sort of.

She was named after Sam Lloyd, likely known for his portrayal of Ted the Lawyer from Scrubs. The news of his death had recently broken and I had just recently begun listening to Fake Doctors, Real Friends, the Scrubs rewatch podcast, as my go-to background entertainment when colouring the comic specifically each week. It still is now, albeit intermittently since they don't always produce an episode each week and I no longer have a backlog to catch up on. Now granted, I don't love the podcast as much as I used to - can be a bit cringey at times as these two hollywood actors chat about utterly unrelatable anecdotes from their lives - but it's overall been enjoyable and it'll be weird to find something new to accompany my colouring if it does come to an end or stops being enjoyable once they permanently pivot into... whatever they plan to do after they run out of Scrubs episodes. It's been part of my colouring process for the comic for longer than it hasn't been now, haha. So... yeah it felt right to honour that connection to my comic with Sam's name, on top of the fact that Scrubs is just straight-up one of my favourite TV shows and Ted was always a character that gave me big laughs.

Of course... I realised after that I'd introduced yet another character to the comic ending in "-a"! ...But whatever, it's a common thing. Not so long ago I had 5 co-workers simultaneously whose names also ended in -a, lol.

The decision to have had her always be around simply came from not having any strong ideas to introduce her and preferring the idea that at least some of the cast already knew her. The gag's been done before, but I thought it'd be extra funny to introduce her with a scene in which she is specifically announcing her departure from being a regular face in Cammie's life, which typically would mean the same for the audience in most works with actually established characters.

Final little bonus note - in panel 1, Cammie once again is entering with a handful of steaming coffee.

#160 - Official

I didn't really mean for it to be so small it's barely legible at web size, but the little sign on the panic alarm button behind the till says "Real emergencies only Cammie!", in reference to #50.

#161 - Before

All that Scrubs talk regarding Sam is kinda fitting, because they did the "this character was always here!" gag there too. For their one, they edited her in on various memorable shots and pretended the main character didn't notice her being present, here I obviously extended the frame on the end of several punchline panels from previous comics.

Here's a gif that shows the original panels compared to the new ones, showing both the new and old art isolated as well so you can see exactly what I drew to extend the older panels which naturally weren't drawn originally knowing that I would one day be extending them!

The second of the three Sam flashbacks is just a nice little bridging one, but it did take me a while to decide for sure which way around I wanted the first and third flashback panel. For the first: while there's been a little bit of mild bad language in the comic once the seal was broken here, Sam's "bitch" is the first time such language has appeared so it amused me to place it in a scene that has already happened long ago just barely outside of the audience's perspective. For the third: the joke is of course that the reveal of Sam's additional dialogue is particularly adding nothing to the scene whatsoever - like, as if Cammie making a fool of herself would even be remark-worthy at this point. I felt both these two goofs had a good punch to them in their own way so yeah, I remember being conflicted over whether I had chosen the funniest possible flow of these three gags.

Of course, the final joke of this one, in case it wasn't obvious (I could see it being subtle for some), is that Mimi's whole running gag is she's a side character who also has existed in the comic for long before her first on-screen appearance, yet Cammie never remembers her.

#162 - New

The art and dialogue structure of the first two panels here is identical to #160. I think it being a time-saver on my workload for the week was definitely a factor - for whatever reason I needed it at the time - but I also remember going for something with that choice beyond just that... But I can't for the life of me remember what. I don't think the parallel between the two comics adds anything reading them back now.

Anyway here's Newt! I really thought at the time that he was going to be as significant an addition as Sam, and I did come up with the idea of introducing a regular male character at the time I chose to bring Sam in, with Sam's introduction - and exit - being an amusing way to introduce a surprise new character.

...Then I proceeded to never really get any super strong story ideas for him lol. More detail on that in a second. I haven't forgotten him though, frustrates me that he keeps getting sidelined!

#163 - Training

Standard behind-the-scenes retail frustration humour here. I can neither confirm nor deny how much is based on my current employment. A little detail of authenticity/flavour is that they're watching a DVD intended for widescreen on an old non-widescreen TV that's clearly been in their staff room for at least a decade. Such was the case for my painful training videos too! (It's all online now as of a few years into when I started, so some progress has been made I guess).

#164 - Huh

It's not made clear yet, but the new status quo that Sam is a receptionist at a primary school is established here - the coloured hanging letter signage on the wall that is too perspective'd to read says "WELCOME TO OUR SCHOOL".

I chose this as a job for her based simply on the fact that my Mum has often worked in school offices for most of my life. She wasn't a receptionist but it was the sort of job where I have some... vague enough memories of the "behind-the-scenes" enough to draw something along those lines when I needed to show Sam at work.

Getting back to Newt, obviously the goof here is that Cammie is just being a sore loser about her friend leaving and Newt is about the most cool-sounding interesting person you could imagine meeting. Unfortunately that involved specifically coming up with fun sounding stuff that are not super common to do or know people that do, so despite the super interesting combo of cave-diving, stand-up and polyamory these are all things I feel like I'd have to do thorough research on to represent in the actual comic accurately... which is something I'd like to do but, time is finite and I have so much pre-existing experience with being a silly nonsense person. Would you believe it, there's another character in the comic for whom that experience lends itself very well!!

Speaking of whom, the first appearance of the bell on the door in Repeat 1 Records was only a month after Cammie got the job. She works fast!

[Trivia Archive | Browse from most recent]

#jezmm #chamomile comic trivia #art insight

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substantial-exposure · 6 months

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Codes

Part 1 || Part 2 ||

Summary: Dasibri starts to realize she has a crush and stalks out Crosshair after finding out he's back on Coruscant. She decides to pay him a visit at 79's and Cross ends up driving her home.

Warnings: feelings, religious guilt, alcohol, drunk Crosshair rizz,

Wc: 3.8k

(A/N): I never write anything besides angst this entire series is so fun

Dasibri had never done anything like this before. With every passing week she was straying further from her path. She was becoming more reckless. A Jedi in name, but in practice she was deviating. Skipping meditation retreats, running from planet to planet, neglecting her own sleep for late night holocalls.

The now usual pit of anxiety sat heavy in her stomach as she laid in her bed. How was she supposed to live like this? Night after night. She knew it would creep up on her sooner or later. After all, the last two hours had been spent tossing and turning under her blanket. Completely unable to relax and fall into a well deserved sleep. Dasibri had sensed it in herself weeks ago. And she'd felt it every night since. She had grown so attached. Something she swore she'd never do. The worst part, quite possibly, was that she tried to stop herself. She did so many things to try and distract herself, better herself and remind herself that this wasn't something she could do. It wasn't the Jedi way and she'd broken so many rules already. But what now? She knew she was forming an attachment. A severe one at that. Was she going to possibly ruin her entire life and her entire career on some clone she still barely knew? These thoughts began to plague her almost every night.

No matter how many times she meditated and tried to distance herself, she always came back. Whether it be a message on their channel, a furtive meeting behind closed doors, or a quick visit. She had to be crazy to think she could keep doing this. It had been another day of ignoring her datapad and ignoring the alerts of the incoming messages. She felt a cold shiver rake through her despite the warmth of the room. She'd been ignoring him all day, trying to ensure she didn't find herself awaiting every text and wishing to speak with him. She tried to distance her mind.

Her anxieties grew inside her, wondering what could happen to her if anyone found out. That she was growing feelings, real and true emotions towards someone. Dasibri was grappling with the thoughts of possible outcomes without even knowing how he truly felt about her. Crosshair was a man of very few words but she hung onto every single one. Would she be excommunicated for this? Stripped of all title, rank, and the only home and she'd ever known?

After hours of trying to quell the anxious fire in her belly she decided it wasn't worth ignoring anymore. There had to be a reason it was so bad tonight. Something had to be causing it. The only thing she could think of was him, that it almost felt like his familiar presence was occupying her mind and radiating around her. It was him. She knew it was.

Dasibri pushed the blankets off of herself and climbed out of bed. Her feet hit the floor with a soft thud. Standing in her nightwear she traveled to the other side of her bedroom with more energy than she wished she had. Grabbing her bag and digging through it till she found her datapad she turned it on. She wasn't surprised with what she found.

A transmission from Crosshair. It had come in mere minutes ago.

"Headed to Coruscant. See you in the morning."

That answered that then. He was here. She thought to herself, wracking her brain so much the tension almost hurt. Had this all started from the moment he breached the atmosphere? Was his presence on the planet alone enough to shake her to her core?

She'd already made up her mind. She was already planning on sneaking out of bed not so long after every Jedi on her floor fell asleep. It was simply a matter of waiting. She meditated quietly until everyone had officially retired for the night. It felt like hours she waited. Both trying to pass the time and calm herself down. Bring her own mind back into stasis and drag it away from the fervent craze it had been in. Dasibri bided her time until she felt the coast was clear.

It felt like ages that she stayed in her room, just waiting. But once she could sense her window of opportunity, she ceased all meditations. Her feet hit the floor once again as she came down from her dream like state. Dasibri had walked to her closet staring at the few different variations of her robes. She studied them intently, until she decided and picked out her newest addition and rid herself of her pajamas.

She crept through the Temple and made it down to the lower floors.

It had been a long while since she'd taken to driving through the city skies of Coruscant. She never really went anywhere on her own like that. She hadn't the time for such things, especially nowadays. She'd borrowed a speeder.

Despite spending the last week wrapped up inside her own head whenever she had a spare second to think, she locked herself away. It wasn't too out of the usual for Dasibri to disappear and come back after hours of isolated meditation but even she knew it was different now. Tensions were high with the Senate and with the Chancellor, but that was hardly anything new. Surely no one noticed or cared for her tardiness or slothfulness as of late. Instead of any real work, Dasibri had been locking herself away and meditating for days on end.

She knew what must become of all this. She couldn't do this. Dasibri knew what she had to do to make sure everything worked out the way she needed it to. It wasn't fair but they needed to stop this. Whatever they had, she needed it gone.

And yet she didn't turn around. Instead of doing what she had promised herself she would, Dasibri parked her speeder outside the building. With freezing hands, she shook and turned off the machine. She pulled the keys into her hand and placed them inside the pocket of her robes. Now starring up at the neon colors of the sign overhead she might have felt even more anxious than when she left. Dasibri stood before the doors of 79's and left the Coruscant skyline behind her as she entered the bar.

She passed through the doors. It was dark. Much darker than she thought it would be. Her eyes adjusted to the size and the lighting of the place. It was a Clone Bar. She wasn't sure what she expected. The entire place was littered with soldiers, some she knew, most she didn't. All she knew was that this place was packed.

Despite the capacity of the place, she assumed that she stuck out like a sore thumb. If her robes didn't separate her from the rest she was almost a full foot lower on the ground. Every clone was a standard six feet tall, and Dasibri definitely wasn't. She was looking up towards each clone, looking over armor, studying hair cuts, facial markings and the color of their armor plates.

It helped that Crosshair wasn't like the others. He should of been easier to find. She looked around, trying to find the man she came searching for. She kept her eyes peeled in the possibility she might see the other clones of Force 99. Dasibri only came to see one of them, but the others were definitely easier to find.

Dasibri narrowed her eyes and looked around for a bit. She knew he was here, she could feel it. She could sense it. The poor Jedi felt queasy as she looked around for him. She managed to figure out where he was all on her own, he had to be here somewhere. As more time passed she wondered what she was even doing here. She took a solemn step forward and her eyes shifted across the darkened room. She looked to the stairs. Maybe he was up there?

She took another step and a dark shroud seemed to creep up on her from behind. It hung over her head like dread. It was then that a cool low baritone seemed to reverberate in her ear. It was an immediate relief to her nerves.

"You look lost." Crosshair had said smirking. He was lent over, his lips just inches from her ear. "Did my little Jedi sneak out to see me?" He hummed, hands grasping her shoulders as he pulled back and stood at his full height. He looked down at her as she turned around to look at him quickly.

Dasibri felt like she was floating, his presence alone was enough to fluster her. She tried to remain at peace, in her usual state of tranquility, but the way he spoke left her blushing. His? She had thought to herself. The notion and the implications were enough to make her dizzy. She'd be thinking about this for hours. This was so wrong. She felt sick again in no time.

Only he could do this to her. Both ease and aggravate. Crosshair looked the most relaxed she'd ever seen him. He wasn't in uniform, not fully at least. He looked down at her, eyebrow raised in wait. He was still awaiting an answer.

"I didn't sneak out" she said, her voice wavering. "I just didn't tell anyone" she said trying to keep her voice even. She looked up at him, eyes looking over his face. From the looks of it, his last assignment hadn't been so kind to him. The bruise across his cheek bone looked a lot worse in person.

Crosshair chuckled slightly. Fingertips squeezing into her shoulders before one of them dropped. He casually slipped his arm around her, leaning down slightly to do it. Crosshair looked around for any more familiar Jedi, but he didn't find any. "Did you stalk me out all on your own?" His eyebrow raised in intrigue. "Are you keeping tabs on me?" He asked her seriously, his eyes staring into hers.

Dasibri tried to play it off as cool as she could. She looked up at him and met his stare. "What if I was?" She answered him back. The amusement in her voice was palpable.

A brief smile graced his face. The more Dasibri managed to draw out that scarce smile of his, the more she felt the butterflies in her stomach multiply. He held her close to his side. "Oh mesh'la" he said shaking his head whilst looking down. "What am I going to do with you?" Crosshair had asked her.

She was red in the face. She had to be. Dasibri could feel her cheeks burning. Her feelings for him were getting out of hand. A strange kind of contentment filled her, made her feel light and carefree. It was as soon as she enjoyed the moment, did she think about it. It sent her crashing back down. Her thoughts immediately resumed. They were getting too comfortable with each other. She had thought about him every night for the last week and when he acted like this...she was sure she was doomed.

It was the way he always stayed in contact. Whether it was a text or holocall every once in awhile, he would send a few transmissions here and there. Always making sure she knew he was only a few klicks away. It also certainly wasn't helping when he called her beautiful when he was intoxicated like this. How was she supposed to act exactly?

She knew it was against the rules and she knew it would end in heartbreak. Whether she had to leave him and stop this, or whether she left her order behind to peruse it. How could she not enjoy the happiness this brought? If attachments were forbidden, if they brought so much evil along with them...why did it feel so right? Why did his voice make her heart sing? There had to be a reason her hand fit so snugly in his. There had to be a reason. The tension inside her did little to dissipate. No matter how happy she was in her thoughts, the immediate realization of what it meant was enough to have her scared.

Crosshair was high in spirit that night. Yet another successful mission alongside his brothers was enough reason to celebrate and keep him moderately happy. But a call to report back to Coruscant in the morning? That was even better. That meant he'd be making a pitstop at the Jedi temple. And now it seemed that he didn't even have to. It seemed his sole reason to show up came right to him instead. All of that, mixed with the liquor in his system had him in quite the good mood.

He happily paraded the girl around on his arm as he made it back to the large booth his brothers were sat at. Each of them in their own various state of impaired. All minus Echo, he was the only one to fully keep his cognitive thinking skills intact. Despite being lost in the back rooms of 79's he still seemed on edge.

But Crosshair removed his arm from around the girl and stole a chair from the nearest table. He sat the stool down next to his and let her take her seat.

"So tell me, General." Crosshair said sarcastically, a wicked grin smothering his face. He knew how much she hated when he called her that. "Are you Jedi allowed to drink?" He asked her. His gaze flickered over her face, watching a sheepish and worried smile overtake her.

"I'd rather not.." she confessed. "Alcohol would impair my skills and my judgment. I'm afraid I don't drink" she told him. She sat down along with the others, her hands folded together tightly on her lap.

"I think it might already be impaired. You're sitting with us." Tech spoke up. His self deprecating joke didn't go unnoticed or unheard.

"Speak for yourself" Crosshair stated looking over to his brother who seemed happy enough nursing his third beer of the night. He picked up his own drink and look another sip. His eyes looked to the girl beside him. She was looking around the room, studying it and getting familiar with it. Her eyes were widened slightly, just absorbing the atmosphere around her. Crosshair found himself trying to hide a smile. His cheeks ached, he wasn't sure if he'd ever smiled this much in his life.

By the end of the night, Crosshair had more or less sobered up. The world was no longer blurred and his senses were just as sharp as ever. All that mattered to him was that he was capable of driving a speeder back to the Jedi Temple with a single passenger. In fact he was dead set on it. She may have drove herself but he was hellbent on making sure he took her home. He refused to let the girl drive, despite her being the sober one.

Maybe it was just an excuse to feel her arms wrap around his torso and hold on to him tightly. Or maybe it was his ego. Maybe it was even the fact that he felt the need to showcase his skills on a speeder? Neither of them would actually get an answer to that question.

It was like thousand thoughts ran through Dasibris head as she held onto him. Her grip tightened, her hands digging into the fabric of his clothes. She didn't want this night to end. Crosshair had just been so perfect that night. His hard exterior had dissipated for once and she was falling for him even worse than she originally thought.

She had learned quite early on that he had issues opening up to people. She'd gathered that much the first time she met him. From the way he treated her to the way he treated the world. She'd seen first hand how he treated the regular clones, he separated himself. Labeled them and himself as 'other'. Dasibri found herself lucky of gotten to know him so well. Or even to of seen him this many times. Her in-depth thoughts kept her occupied as Crosshair weaved through the traffic of landspeeders, shuttles, taxis, and the like. When she first met him she never thought she'd of ended up here. She squeezed onto him again and held onto him closely.

"You're alright, cyare" he spoke over his shoulder, making sure his voice carried. He could feel her grip tightening still. It was an attempt to sooth her worries. Although he didn't have a clue as to what she was actually worried about.

Dasibri felt her cheeks heat up again. He knew what he was doing. There was no way he didn't. She rested her head against the man's back. Once again sitting with her thoughts. She never would of thought that she would of enjoyed him this much. When she first met him, he set her alight with anger. His arrogance and his tough exterior, were now just a reason for a playful eye roll. She wondered if he felt the same. Had her own attitude off put him? What made him crack and come to her door? What made him keep coming back? At this point she wasn't sure why she kept coming back. She snuggled up against him as her mind replayed the events of the night. Every conversation, every smile, she wanted to remember everything.

Crosshair pulled up along the darkened landing pad connected to the Jedi temple. Due to the late hour, the lights were off and the entire strip was shrouded in darkness. The only light given came from the city and the beams of light from the speeder itself. Despite its artificial sky, the light pollution definitely dulled the space around them. As Dasibri hopped off the Speeder, Crosshair did the same. Standing up if just to talk to her properly a few minutes longer. As she turned to look at him he picked up his head and let out a content sigh.

When it came to his feelings for Dasibri, Crosshair had been anything but subtle. He was sweet on her and frankly he was just enjoying every moment he was lucky enough to share with her. Sometimes he wondered if this was a usual thing for her. Did she go out and see any regs like this? Was he the first clone to weasel his way into her life? As soon as his brothers weren't around, Crosshair didn't care to keep up the facade. Maybe he was growing soft but in this context, he didn't have a problem with it. When he was alone with his thoughts, alone with himself, he could just dare to venture down this path of thinking. He could dwell on these thoughts and think about these things for as long as he liked.

Of course, he never had the time to honestly sit and place his emotions. To wonder how far they could take this. Or if she even wanted to. Karking hell, he wasn't even sure what he wanted. But now, standing on the landing pad with only four moons as his witness Crosshair spoke up.

"I have a question for you." He said exhaling deeply. He leaning against the speeder, fearing his knees would give out other wise. As calm as he portrayed himself to be, he was worried about what was to come after. "I need to know.. what is this? Us, I mean. If there even is.." He asked her.

He didn't know what he was saying anymore, he was cringing in his mind. After so many nights losing himself in her, in her peace and drowning in the expanse of her. Crosshair needed an answer. It had been another night of him just listening to her talk and preach her philosophies. The hours of the night grew longer and he had never felt more at ease. This life that he lived was complicated but nothing was as complicated as the things he felt for her. He never knew how to express them. There had been so many things he had wanted to say. He just never could get them to come out in the way he wanted them to. In the way she deserved to hear them.

Dasibri felt her body go rigid. Every emotion and thought inside her body felt like it had shrunk to the most minuscule size. Leaving her stumbling over words and blinking dumbly. A Jedi Knight. One of the brightest of her time. How silly of a notion is that?

The silence spanned for what felt like decades. Giving Crosshair time and a half to think of every way he had ruined what he thought they could of had. He was practically already sitting back on the bike and ready to leave once she finally did speak.

Dasibri's voice came quiet. Soft and worried as she refused to meet his gaze. Her entire body felt red hot at her confession. "I cant." She told him. "I shouldn't... I'm not supposed to." The girl said holding her fists tightly at her sides. She had thought long and hard on the matter. Devoted days to the mere idea of it. Dasibri had studied it in her mind, looked at it from every angle, every turn. She had obsessed and pondered and now with the moment before her, she came up empty. "I cant hold attachments. I would love to, I have enjoyed every moment I've spent with you...but-"

Crosshair could see the blush overtake her face. He could hear the struggle in her words. He relaxed against the speeder and looked at her. He nodded and narrowed his brow in thought. As soon as the idea came to him he spoke aloud, accidentally cutting her off. "What if you don't have to? What if I'm holding an attachment, and you're just entertaining me?" He offered her, a self satisfied expression stretched over his face.

Dasibri blinked and thought on his words. She found herself smiling and almost laughing it off. He didn't seem to find it as funny. "I think that would hardly be fair" she said giving him a reluctant smile.

Crosshairs face was back to its stoic and stern blankness. It masked everything going on inside his head. "I suppose." He said squaring his shoulders and shifting his weight on the bike. "I wouldn't mind though." He had hesitated. The admission left him feeling cold, vulnerable. More vulnerable than he would ever like to feel.

Soft lips pressed against his if only for a moment. She tasted like the mocktail she'd been drinking back at the bar. She tasted sweet.

Dasibri pulled back and looked at him. Hoping her answer sufficed, he only stared at her. He was confused, more confused than anything. And yet, he didn't care. His hand lunged out, quickly grabbing ahold of her waist and pulling her close. Their lips met again.

Under the four moons of Corcusant, a catastrophic and irreversible decision was made. Dasibri Taraay and Crosshair locked lips with the understanding that their arrangement had shifted tones. If anyone caught them, it would mean their lives would be over. She would be expelled from the Jedi Order, and she would be outcasted. If it came out that Crosshair was in a relationship, with a Jedi no less, he'd be labeled a deserter. Who knew what would happen to him after that. But for the moment, neither of them cared.

That was the worst case scenario. Nothing else could possibly happen?

Right?

#star wars #the bad batch #bad batch #crosshair #tbb crosshair #star wars fic #Star Wars oc #Dasibri Taraay #Jedi oc #Crosshair X oc

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mimic-from-the-lab · 7 months

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Doll, the weird issue is hard to ignore

A rant on story and character motivations, featuring Doll.

*Before Episode 7 so all my thoughts are based on that*

Before I go ahead, I love Doll. From aesthetic to personality.

But my gods, her place in the story. This hasn't been an issue till I started writing her into fics, till I realised rather quickly how her story and motivations just don't work.

I could ignore it if it was a crazy thing, except she isn't. She is meant to be a bot on a mission of revenge and wanting to be alive at the end.

Revenge; to kill the bots that killed her parents. Fair, solid. Would be fine if she hadn't failed, either the events of the prom fight impacted her so much that her eye has turned yellow or other internal weird things which quickly leads to.

Wanting to be alive; why would she be looking for a cure otherwise. Also very fine but she probably shouldn't have gone all power crazy in the first place cause where would she go afterwards.

Granted with bot logic of these people will forget what bad thing you did so you can come back and live with them.

Buuut, she still hasn't done point one, revenge. Which has to use her power to do so. And she made an indirect attempt in ep 6 for the dingos to do it.

My only thought on her plan for the later episodes is simply.

Find the source of the power to be able to continue to use it, so find Cyn and find out how to fix it to save her life.

She has no other path than that. And it isn't going to work out for her, not if Cyn values the others over a random drone with solver that she is trying to get rid of or assimilate. For whatever reasons. Well assimilation makes some sense...

Now on to some of the weird story choices in her own plans.

Point one

Her plan to get V into Prom. Murder other bots who would have family that missed them.

Weird, you could have just found her outside or added in some steps to make sure the other disassembly bot wouldn't be included. Or I don't know just used Lizzy to continue to befriend her and get her where you needed without involving everyone else.

But no, an over the top plan to kill a bunch of teens to then get your chance to get revenge. But it was meant to fit with Carrie/prom murder so a bit of a pass for style.

Point two

She didn't need to run ahead of the others at the lab unless she knew something and needed to be alone for it for some reason. Still weird hopefully we will find out about that real quick but I doubt Cyn is there so I have no idea why she wanted to get there besides the cure but again she could have taken Uzi to keep her promise. Buut she still hasn't done revenge. Unless she has given up on that, ehhh.

Point three

She promised to help Uzi when she found out about her having solver, how sweet and that should mean that she will team up with Uzi to find out everything. Right?

No, she leaves Uzi behind, for dead with the dingos to be killed with the others whiiile she was in the middle of the power freaking out. She tells her goodbye with a salute.

Something about this doesn't sit well for me, I very much doubt we will get an explanation considering we haven't so far with other things.

Again I like her, I don't like how she has been used in the story at least with so little.

I am just so confused with her, I would like to chuck that up to limited story time and I can't blame the show writers for that. I should be glad to have her at all. But writing a character is hard if you don't know what they want or what goals they got. There is a lot of that in the series with more characters then Doll.

With her having nothing as a part of the story, I can't imagine she will live for much longer. I imagine she will be used as a warning for Uzi about continuing down the path she has or about usage of solver. While giving Uzi a single clue to continue on, in whichever direction.

The fan writers out there can only guess a path and try to stick with it till something is revealed. Then cry and try again to rewrite it.

Anyone else out there that is worried about this, I say just make a version with your best guess. Still make whatever you want with some wiggle room..

#murder drones #murder drones thoughts after ep 6 #mimic's words #murder drones fanfic #writing problems

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confused-pyramid · 2 years

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Masterlist

hi!! fics are listed by fandom :) all fics are with fem!reader unless otherwise specified

✦ = smut

Marvel ⍟

Only Tonight ✦: frank castle x fem!reader (Frank comes to you to get patched up after a rough night on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen, but tonight it doesn’t go as planned) // 2.8k words

(Un)requited: matt murdock x fem!reader (Matt knows you love him, but he can't bear to put you in danger by being with you) // 1.1k words

Sweet Escape ✦: frank castle x fem!reader (Frank has been coming to you when he needs to let off steam, but after you are put in danger because of him, everything between you two changes) // 4.7k words

Heaven and Back ✦: priest!matt murdock x fem!reader (Matt had always found solace in his religion, but then he met you, and everything he thought he knew about his beliefs fell apart…) // 5.9k words

We'll Be Okay ✦: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader (A series of snapshots through your relationship with Peter) // 4.2k words

Maybe I'm Not Scared: frank castle x karen page (A few moments in time following the events of 1x10 of The Punisher) // 3.2k words

Harry Potter/Marauders ϟ

Sneaking Around ✦: young!remus lupin x potter!reader (You're James' little sister, so when you and Remus want some alone time at a party, you have to sneak away...) // 1.7k words

I Was Wrong ✦ : young!sirius black x slytherin!reader (Sirius always thought you were just like his family: ruthless and cruel. When he finds out how wrong he was, he also learns how similar hate and lust can be...) // 6.4k words

Take Me Where the Music Ain't Too Loud: george weasley x fem!reader (You've had a crush on your best friend's brother for ages, and he only seems to reciprocate when he's drunk...) // 4.3k words (part 1/2)

Save Me Till the Party is Over ✦ : george weasley x fem!reader (Spending the holidays at the Weasley's gets awkward after George drunkenly confesses his feelings for you) // 4.9k words (part 2/2)

Better Not To Give ✦ : draco malfoy x fem!reader (It’s your sixth year at Hogwarts and Draco has been acting different. The more he pushes you away, the more you try to hold on, but at what cost?) // 4.7k words

Criminal Minds 🖿

Back To You ✦ : emily prentiss x fem!reader (You get assigned to help out the BAU, forcing you to work with your ex-girlfriend, Emily) // 5.1k words

While I Breathe, I Hope ✦: aaron hotchner x fem!reader (Aaron doesn't let people in, but when you burrow your way into his life, he finds that even the worst moments don't hurt as much...) // 10.1k words

Anchor series: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader (Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.) // 108.6k words

Miscellaneous

It's Always Been You ✦: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x fem!reader (As Iceman’s daughter, you and Rooster grew up together, but your friendship transforms when you are assigned to train for a dangerous mission that’s never been accomplished before) // 5.7k words

Derailed ✦: tangerine x assassin!reader (When Tangerine spots you in the middle of his mission on a bullet train, he gets entangled in your plans and loses track of his own...) // 2.8k words

Damage is Done ✦: rafe cameron x pogue!reader (You and Rafe hooked up when you first moved to the OBX, and he hasn't been able to get you out of his system ever since) // 8.6k words

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calmthefuckdownalright · 2 years

Text

"Madness is Unfit for a Lady"

A/N: It's here at last. Augh...kill me😭. This was painful

Warnings (Full Series): Cursing, violence, abuse, PTSD, grief, kidnapping, gore, death, explosives, possession, insanity, hallucinations, imprisonment, suicidal tendencies

Genre: 🍃 angst

Time Frame: Two days after Part 3

Pairing: C!Wilbur x Fem!Reader (engaged)

AU: Front Lines of L'manberg

Previous | Next (coming soon)

°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•

You'd dragged yourself from the forest, not having seen or heard from anyone since the battle, and hidden in Pogtopia. Specifically the office and side rooms you'd lived in with Wilbur during the Pogtopia vs Manberg war.

You didn't go outside or so much as send a chat to Tommy that you were alright though you suspected he was busy rebuilding his home. Wilbur's home. What would've been your home. Should've been.

The unknown memory brought a fresh wave of sorrow to your tear dried eyes. No amount of sadness would compensate for the emptiness hollowing out your chest now. Wilbur was dead. Your Wilbur. No matter what the other called him, a villain or a madman, he had been yours alone and he was dead.

You didn't even so much as have a ring to your finger to show he was yours. Promised to you, till death do you part, even if the ceremony had never been performed.

"Though death may part us, I will forever love you."

You could hear him saying it on the winds those hours you spent crying in the forest. Could hear his voice as clear as wind chimes in the twitter of birds and rustle of branches.

You didn't know where you heard it, the quote, but Wilbur had never said it. It sounded like something he'd say...vow to you at the altar perhaps. Who cared...you'd never know. Not for sure anyway.

Through the course of your grief you'd searched every nook and cranny of Wilbur's office. His drawers, his chests, the bookshelves, everywhere for any kind of clue that he had been planning his death. That he was in pain and not telling you. That there was a chance you could've DONE something.

You knew if you did find something you'd only tear yourself apart over it. Blame yourself till you couldn't hardly bear to live and finally take the leap off the Netherack bridge you built over your Netherite mine. Or set fire to the Pogtopian caverns and let it bury you with the remaining legacy of your fiance.

But nothing... Nothing came and your body resisted to every mindless beg for it to give in and just fade away. To end its suffering.

A few more days passed and you wished yourself to have been born a swan. At least if this had happened if you were a swan you would've left this plane of existence to be with your lover by now. Death by a Broken Heart. Swans were lucky. They found the one, raised a family, and once everyone left them they died. Faded off to be with their heart in the next life.

"Stupid birds..." You uttered and smashed your face into the pillow. Dried lines of tears cracked under the action and you whimpered, wishing nothing but to see Wilbur's smile again. His eyes.

You'd been angry at him in your last moments together. In a fight and not close to resolving it. You hadn't kissed him or told him you loved him in those last minutes together. He made you a promise to see you again and you feared that would be for a much longer time than you thought.

You took in a deep breath and clutched at the sheets of your bed, reaching pointlessly for Wilbur besides you and only being met with his pillow. There was still an indent in the center where he had rested his head those night before. You pulled it close and held it under your nose, relishing the leftover scent of him on the cloth.

With the realization that this too would fade, fresh tears sprouted in your eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

Another week had gone by and you had only begun to see more and more of you dead fiance. In every crack of the stone you remembered his rage and every echoing step his laughter. You found his L'manberg uniform and slept with it beside you now. His scent clung to it like a tick and you to that last remnant of him like a leech.

Today was different than the ones before. Today someone had came to see you. Someone had found you in this state of delusion and grief. Tubbo, the newly elected President of L'manberg, and all you could think about was how that was Wilbur's job. That was HIS position.

"Y/N, I've come to speak to you about Wilbur-" Tubbo sat across from you in Wilbur's office. You sat in the deceased's chair with your knees up to your chest like a child.

"I don't want to talk about him Tubbo." You muttered quickly. His name aloud was too much. It was too much to know he wouldn't answer anymore.

"Y/N we have to. He blew up L'manberg and were still trying to figure out why and if he has any other explosives set up!" Tubbo pressed and looked at you fervently.

"Tubbo I know what he did!" You shouted angrily. "I saw it same as you. I saw him DIE Tubbo!" You choked and pressed your head into your knees, fighting the knot in your throat with several deep breaths.

"I know...I know it's hard, but please Y/N. We have to be sure." Tubbo spoke softly and you lifted your head. "Tell us what you knew about Wil- his, gathering of explosive material."

"I don't. I didn't know anything. I know Dream visited him a lot and when-" A loud crash interrupted your words as the one who's name you spoke barged in with Sam, someone you'd never really known, and George behind him.

"Y/N, you're under arrest for the conspiracy to help blow up L'manberg." Dream's voice rang loud and clear.

"What?! No no no, what are you talking about?!" You stood up shocked and backed away as Sam advanced towards you with an axe in hand.

"Sorry it has to be this way." Sam uttered and stood straight, awaiting Dream's next orders.

"Tubbo what's going on?!" You exclaimed to your once ally.

"I'm sorry Y/N, you and Tommy both are liabilities to L'manberg. This is only necessary." The satyr bowed his head and stepped back as Sam pushed the axe edge into your back forcefully, thus making you stumble slightly as he escorted you out of Pogtopia.

"Under what evidence do you have the right to charge me with?!" You exclaimed and felt another sharp prod to your back as the entrance to your newly made home was torn away and sunlight hit your skin for the first time in months.

"You were Wilbur's right hand. His closest friend. He must've told you everything." Dream explained.

"Must've! That's under false accusations! This is illegal! I've done nothing wrong!" You protested and summoned your sword, turning on Sam and his Netherite axe. The sword you wielded was the same one you'd perfected that day in Techno's bunker. The same one Wilbur had refused to let you use at his side in battle, though not directly.

"Y/N put the sword down or suffer the consequences." Sam commanded but you didn't listen. You were a frightened animal surrounded by apex predators. The only thing you could think of to do was run.

So you did. Fast into the trees, sending a flare of fire behind you as you swung at a tree and set it ablaze.

"Stop Y/N!" You heard Dream yell after but you didn't. You set the forest in a setting of hungry flames and acrid smoke behind you.

What had provoked this belief that you had something to do with L'manberg's fall?! Why would they assume such treachery from you?

'Because you're mine.' A smooth velvet voice cracked your senses and you froze in your tracks as the fires reached hungrily at the trees surrounding you.

"What?" You huffed and turned in your stance till you were dizzy searching for the all too familiar and all too welcoming voice.

'I'll see you soon my Love, I promise.' A dark laughter filled your ears and before you stood Wilbur. His clothes were tattered and a long red gash oozed dark red blood through his dusty yellow sweater. His hand reached to caresses your face but not before flames engulfed him and the world became a reality of starving fire.

"Wilbur!" You grabbed at the spot where he once stood and dropped to your knees as they turned up empty.

"No no no, it wasn't supposed to be like this!" You cried and sobbed into your hands.

"I'm sorry Y/N....it'll all be over soon." A menacing voice that bleed all sorts of Danger alerts in your head sounded behind you and as you turned to see who it was, an axe came crashing down to your head.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up you were back in Pogtopia. Back in your's and Wilbur's bed. This time your pockets were empty and no stray blocks or freshly crafted weapons were left. You didn't feel that different, maybe lighter. You'd never lost a life before. You knew everyone got 3 shots at this existence and now you had 2.

'Two more to go my dear. Don't waste them.' A draft from the unknown tickled your ear as Wilbur's voice again echoed around you. You followed the shimmering trail of wind till it wound itself into a ball and rested on the sheets of the bed. There Wilbur was again.

Dressed in the same trenchcoat and bloody sweater.

"Wilbur? Is-Are you really here?!" You reached out to your fiance and watched as he leaned his cheek into your palm with a soft smile. His skin was ice but you didn't care. He felt solid. Real.

"Of course not my Love. I'm dead." Wilbur kissed your palm before vanishing and your hand fell away as if nothing was ever there. The kiss didn't linger. It hardly felt like it had happened at all.

"Y/N. Let's go. Without a fight this time, we need you alive." Sam's voice was calmer than Dream's and less forceful. So you went with him.

You were losing it. After months of grief your mind was wearing away at the remind of your sanity.

"Sam, do you ever feel like you're losing your mind?" You asked him as he escorted you up the stairs of Pogtopia.

"Not often." He responded cooly and continued on your way. The acidic smell of smoke choked you for a second but it was gone before long. The fire was out already apparently and by the looks of Dream's clothing, you'd done a lot more damage than you'd thought.

"We can add arson with intent to kill to your charge now." The man in green spun the axe in his hand skillfully. A simmering anger rose in your chest as you wanted to scream but something cold was seemingly pressed against your lips and held your tongue still.

"You're a monster, Dream." You growled instead and allowed Sam to lead you away from your home of Pogtopia.

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

The Prison was....cold. Empty and impenetrable. The only one capable of getting in and out being Sam. Apparently the place was supposed to be even immune to Dream's tricks.

"Empty your inventory into the hole." Sam commanded and you dropped the two pieces of dirt and a stick you'd picked up on the way. The items were burned immediately and you flinched at the sudden heat.

"Now follow me." Sam led you through multiple gateways and lava walls. Each one seemingly complicated enough to keep anyone and everyone trapped behind them.

"Impressive." You watched as the obsidian walls stretched out to reveal a cell down an open lava lake. With the flip of a lever a platform started to rise and move across the lake. Sam pushed you onto it with very strict instructions.

"You're gonna go into the cell over there and set your spawn. Then you're gonna place down with iron bar. You do anything other than that you die until you can't die anymore. Understand?" You had nodded and followed explicitly.

So began the years on loneliness...

~~~~~~~~5 years later

Five five five...you'd recorded the days and counted the years in words onto the yellowing pages of the journal Sam gave to you. No one had visited you yet and you could feel the boredom and longing for interaction clawing at your remaining sanity. Sure Sam had stopped by and given you food, asked how you felt or if you needed another book and quill but he was only doing his job. He wasn't your friend.

Then IT happened. You got a friend. Dream.

Dream's masked form stumbled across the obsidian floors before the iron bar was replaced and Sam commanded someone on the other side to bring him back. Not a word spoken to you or a glance spared. Cold expressions all around.

"Welcome to the Slammer Green Boy..." You smirked as Dream wiped off his outfit of a tattered green hoodie and black jeans.

"Don't call me that." Dream huffed and reluctantly set his spawn though you suspected by the way his hands shook and his shoulders kept tight that it was useless to do so. Somehow, Dream the most powerful man in the whole nations, was on his last life.

"You're stuck here Dream with me. I'll call you what I want." You grumbled and stuck your head between you knees. You couldn't think of anything worse than being stuck with Dream. Sure the years had been horrible by yourself but now they would be even worse with the man who put you in here.

"There's no way Sam would let me be in here with someone. Chances are you'll get moved." Dream sat on the bed and played with the boots on his feet which were missing their laces.

'Why didn't you think of that?! Break the bed and hang yourself. Then you'll be back at spawn and you can go from there!' You shook your head at the thought. Then you'd be on one life and just as jumpy as Tommy and Tubbo, or as unhinged as a certain hallucination of yours.

"Maybe you already are." Wilbur's transparent form sat across the obsidian floor from you. He held up a limp wrist with his knee while the other stretched out its ridiculous length nearly to the middle of the floor.

"I suspected." You grumbled and lifted your eyes to look at him. A year or so ago his face had begun to fade off and his body would falter in and out. You were forgetting him. How he looked specifically.

"Maybe being stuck with Dream won't be so bad." Wilbur shrugged and then he was beside you, holding your hand in his and playing with your fingers like a child.

"It was much better when it was just me." You huffed and Wilbur smiled before vanishing as Dream spoke again.

"Did you say something?" He asked.

"No." You said dully. You'd realized that in the act of having conversations with Wilbur, albeit in your head, you sometimes forgot it was supposed to stay in your head.

~~~~~~~~

Weeks went by and sure enough Dream was right. You were moved. Selfishly enough you weren't happy about it. You were in there first! That cell was yours! Sam or Dream didn't seem to care as you grumbled away.

The heat from the lava was refreshing from cold obsidian cage, even as you were soon tossed back into a cell. This one was smaller and more quaint. It had a bookshelf though and some lanterns. A comfier bed and a clear eye shot over the lake at Dream.

A few more weeks went by and you found a bliss in the privacy you now were able to have. Before it was always private. Sam was all the interaction you got. No one visited or sent you a letter. Nothing.

So you always had time to talk to Wilbur whenever you wanted. Now it was a choice. You could talk to Dream or yourself. Frankly you preferred yourself and Wilbur over the man who drove you to this insanity.

"You can't be mad at him forever. " Wilbur's voice said against your shoulder. You'd forgotten his face completely now, going as far as trying to draw it into the pages of one of your journals and failing as you struggled to recall even the shape of his eyes or if he had dimples when he smiled. The worn wrinkles of worry or happiness washing away from your memory to the point you cried when you couldn't even think of his jawline correctly. Everything was unfamiliar now.

"He's made me forget you. I can wish him to burn for as long as I hold these two lives." You muttered back and leaned your head against the obsidian wall.

"Why don't you just starve yourself or something? Break the bars and jump into the lava and end up at spawn again?" Wilbur suggested. He wouldn't suggest that...this was just your head now. The loneliness and grief stabbing into your imagination.

"That's stupid." You grumbled aloud and returned to your self induced struggle to remember anything you could about Wilbur. What he was like, physically and mentally. You scanned over every possible detail. Dove into years of memory and scanned shelf after shelf of moments where you might've seen his plan for mass destruction.

"Dream was around a lot. I smelled like gunpowder a lot after their visits according to you." Wilbur pointed out and suddenly he was there again. His face faint in the air as you stared ahead. He had a smile on his lips. That you remembered clearly. Wilbur was a smiley boy.

"Yeah...you're right." Your brow furrowed and you itched to find every snippet of Dream around Wilbur in your vast library of fading images.

You wrote them down as you thought of them. The ink drying and smearing with each scribble and sentence pressed onto its yellowing pages.

"Y/N? What're you up to?" Sam's voice threatened to unlock your focus and you shushed him quickly.

"Not now. I'm trying to think of why Wilbur would blow up L'manberg." You rushed out and scribbled down another faint memory.

"Y/N that's pointless. It's simple, he went mad." Sam said gently.

"People don't just go mad, Sam. There has to be a something I missed in those years." Your hand stopped as the graying shadows slipped away. You heard something bend and break then steps behind you. Heavy ones. Armored ones.

"Y/N, I know I put you in here but I think it's time I let you out. Dream didn't have the right to accuse you as an accomplice to Wilbur. Besides, I think there are some things you need to see." Sam rested a hand on your shoulder and you stiffened. Sam hadn't touched you before.

The only touch you'd known since Wilbur died was that of an axe to the head. Your first death. It had been numbing rather than intoxicating like this simple stretch for friendship.

"Sam, why did Dream want me away?" You muttered. Along with others, that had been one of the main questions you'd been trying to answer though it seemed unimportant now. You'd accepted your fate and planned to live it through.

"I, honestly, don't know Y/N. Now that I look back, it was wrong and I'm sorry for my part to play in it." Sam's hand moved away from your shoulder and he reached down for the book you'd been intent on writing. Every memory you could find of Wilbur in the weeks before the Pogtopia vs Manberg Final Battle was there. Even the ones that were simple as him laying next to you one night saying how he wished he could make everything go away back to normal.

"If you believe this Sam, why didn't you let me out earlier?" You asked now and stared at the rows of books.

"I wasn't thinking correctly." He stated simply like it was the answer to everything.

"Right." You nodded and reached up to grab the journal carefully. Sam let you. You really should've been happier about getting out, but you knew what was outside. People who hadn't cared over these five years you were gone. Or didn't know and hadn't bothered to find out.

"Sam, how's L'manberg?" You asked. He was once again leading you through the series of doors and hallways to the outside.

Sam didn't say anything for a while. He chose his words carefully.

"L'manberg is...L'manberg is gone Y/N. Dream and Technoblade destroyed it completely." He uttered and opened the last gate to the outside. As the natural light flooded in you stumbled back a little and had to squint. The naturally created air, the sunlight, the smell of the sea. It was all beautiful... But you couldn't enjoy it as that haunting noise echoed in your skull.

Wilbur's dark laughter after he'd blown up L'manberg first. That was all you heard. Even as Sam guided you down to the shore on a little hill and bid you goodbye after returning some basic things like some iron tools and armor.

It was a haze as the cackle of your deceased fiance clouded your mind. Took your senses down with it to the darkest parts of your memory your mind bad locked away.

"Enjoy..." He had said. To Tubbo. To You. To the whole damn world. He had left you and everyone else to clean up his mess.

"It's not fair Wilbur." You sobbed. You hadn't realized you were crying but now you noticed the curled position you sat in with hot tears falling from your eyes. The new freedom you had was not enough. It wasn't what you wanted. You wanted Wilbur back. You wanted to punch him till he coughed blood for what he did.

It was a horrible thought to wish but you did. You wanted to see Wilbur's pain but you wanted to ease it as well. Deep down you knew you could never hurt him, never turn you back and anger unto the man you loved. The anger was brief as you sniffed away the last of your tears.

The sun had begun to set and you realized it would be best to find somewhere to stay. L'manberg was gone...your house probably with it. Hell that probably got destroyed after Schlatt kidnapped you. That was so long ago even if he hadn't, the house would be so run down it'd be useless to try and save it now.

With the tools gifted to you, you dug a little hole and set up a bed area. You fell into the stiff blankets and felt sleep pull you under almost immediately. After years of being taken away from nature, the dirt seemed alive in welcoming you back to its presence.

~~~~~~

You woke up fairly early and packed up what little you owned. The best thing to do now was to find Tommy. He was the only one you knew you could trust. Tubbo had been a spy and a damn good one for what he was able to get before Schlatt found him out. Phil killed Wilbur...you didn't know if you could face him again. And Technoblade had helped destroy L'manberg for good with Dream.

Everyone else you knew was on Dream's side or shady in some form or other. It was sickening to think you couldn't trust anyone. Years ago you were a hermit kept to yourself and quiet among others. Now you were a woman without her fiance and A criminal let out on good behavior or whatever Sam had said.

'Has Tommy changed as well?' You couldn't help but think of the blonde boy with the filthy mouth being anything but that. You hoped he hadn't but you knew on some level he wouldn't be the same. He had lost a brother that day and all the trust he had bestowed in Wilbur. It sounded selfish but there was hardly a doubt in your mind Tommy and yourself were the most effected by Wilbur, in life and death.

So you carried on with that false sense of hope that little man hadn't moved on too far without you these past five or so years.

"Tommy?" You called out. His mound of a house was vacant and the chests, as usual, untidy and thoroughly raided. "Toms?" You shouted again and continued to wander in search of him.

The land was quiet and then you heard shuffling and a familiar, and still slightly annoying, voice.

"Tommy?!" You whirled around and saw him sitting on a bench talking to some other figure you didn't recognize. One who's skin was gray and a yellow sweater pulled over their lanky frame.

"Y/N?" Tommy turned around to face you and you swear you've never seen the man run so fast. Before you could even register the movement Tommy was in your arms and spitting out questions faster than you could hear. It felt so nice to finally touch another being again. Even if it was the most chaotic man on the whole existence.

"Where the Hell have you been?! What happened to your face? Jesus Christ you won't believe the things I've done since we last spoke!" Tommy was frantic as he pulled away and you gawked at how much he'd grown. The short 17 year old revolutionary was now nearly a six foot man who had grown fairly well into the scrawny frame genetics felt him.

"Tommy, slow down you're gonna give me a stroke!" You laughed and ruffled his hair. "I got arrested! Arrested for God's sake! Apparently Dream convinced Sam I had something to do with L'manberg blowing up. The first time I mean." You added. "I've been in Pandora's for the past five years, alone." You muttered.

"Dream got Tubbo to exile me! For a while it was just me and Ghostbur. Dream was my only friend, or so I thought. Turns out he convinced everyone I was better off. Gotta be honest it was probably the worst years of my life." Tommy chuckled.

"Ghostbur? Who's Ghostbur?" Your brow furrowed and Tommy stepped aside as a cheery voice smile at you.

"Hello!" The figure you saw Tommy talking to waved happily at you, not exactly looking at you but more than a glance before turning to a blue dyed sheep at his side.

Your blood pounded and time stood still. This was madness...it couldn't be. He was dead. Gone. Forever!

"Wilbur?" You stuttered and the ghostly man looked up at you. Really this time. Those vacant eyes, glazed with death, widened in their own and lonely tears fell from your eyes as you noticed the blue stain slashing down his middle.

This had to be your imagination. A dream. You were still in the prison. Wilbur was still dead and hardly memorable in your mind. This WASN'T real!

"Love?" Ghostbur uttered and you felt Tommy realize the moment beside you.

"This isn't possible," You choked and stepped back as Wilbur, no Ghostbur, stood. "You're dead."

"I'm here Y/N." Ghostbur said. His voice was the one you'd talked to all these years. His mouth curved to perfection in that eternal mischievous smile.

He was back...

°~•°~•°~•~°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•°~•

The part isn't the problem. Its my SEVERE motivation mood swings. All I know is pain.

But YAY WE GET SOME GHOSTBUR CONTENT NOWWW

Also if you didn't notice, you can spot the five stages of grief beginning to present themselves. Denial of course being the center stage and anger appearing briefly. Next you have bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Am I coping through my writing? Maybe...

Hope you've enjoyed and I'll see you soon 👋

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