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#the concept of ‘and they were all just.. shapes’ makes me foam at the mouth
aimseytv · 1 year
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i would pay so much money for the chance to play night in the woods for the first time again
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lelanida · 1 year
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Finally solving Beckoning Ruler (mini theory)
More than a year has passed since the end of the season of the Little Prince and the official confirmation that everything we saw in it is canon. Yes, for a long time we argued with foam at the mouth whether the little prince was really here or it was just a group hallucination. But no, that's it. The Starlight desert is on the map, shards from Eden fall there, there is an wind path there, so this is a real place. And along with the prince and the desert, of course, spirits living in this area became canon too. There was nothing particularly difficult here, places in the general lore had already been designated for the whole gang. The Star Collector is a traveling merchant. Narcissist is the champion from the Colosseum. Soldier - warrior from the Wasteland. Lamplighter - ... lamplighter. Geographer is a monk from the Vault. But there were some problems with Ruler. What place could such a spirit occupy in the kingdom? Where did he get these monarchical habits from? And I decided to make it clear.
Ruler is a rather strange spirit. All other representatives of the season with their outfit or location clearly show belonging to one of the kingdoms ...but not Ruler. His cosmetics and the island are so neutral that by himself he couldn't be attributed anywhere. But by the method of exclusion (and viewing concept art), we establish that the Ruler hails from the Isle of Dawn. Great, there is already something to move from.
Now let's look at his costume. He doesn't have a cape, but he has a hairstyle and a mask. Let's start with the mask. Yes, with the one that absolutely everyone hates. As far as I know, the mask is a reflection of the face of the spirit. So, we will divide the mask into two main parts. A beard and... a frog-shaped upper part? Should I call it that? With a beard, let's say everything is clear, but what the frog is for is a mystery.
Next comes the hairstyle. The ruler wears long curled hair on his head and, logically, a crown. How could a spirit have a crown? After all, he wore it during his lifetime, and wasn't there already a king in this world? And then the realization hit me like a truck. Do we even know how the spirits lived BEFORE the appearance of Alef??? Life didn't start with the king (it ended with them, if we're honest, ahEM-). What if Ruler is really the oldest spirit from the Desert, not by the years he lived, but by the era when he lived?
You can consider this an attempt to justify my favorite character, I don't care, but I really don't see a better place in lore for such character. We know that before the appearance of Alef, the kingdoms were divided.And there was some kind of government, wasn't there? Do you understand where I'm going? What if the Ruler is not just a crazy grandpa who talks to statues, but really a member of the old royalty? I am sure that the unexpected appearance of Alef was a surprise for the previous rulers/senators/chancellors or whatever they had, and not everyone wanted to take off their duties. And not all people, I believe, wanted to turn their lives upside down at once, for the sake of some prophecy. And what happens when the old regime is demolished against the will of the inhabitants? The Civil War. And the memories of the spirits of the season of Remebrance confirm this. The spirits really fought with each other for the unification of the kingdoms. I can't say what exactly happened to the aristocrats who refused to accept Alef's lead. But the proof that the Ruler was overthrown is the fact that his crown is BROKEN.
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Take a closer look, it wasn't made like this. And before you tell me that the Ruler made it himself or found somewhere, I will throw a part of the frog from his mask in your face. This thing is also made of stone, but it is perfectly executed and not damaged. So, these attributes were made by a professional craftsman after all, and then the crown was broken. I assume that the Ruler did not die during the revolution, and remained to live out his life without a title. He kept his crown as a reminder of better times and since he was used to living in the past, after his death it was reflected on his island in the Desert.
The fact that he talks to statues can be explained by his prolonged loneliness, I mean, all the spirits in the Desert are strange (I bet Narcissist also talks to his reflection). So that's where I can finish my theory. I hope I raised this character in your eyes at least a little, because, to be honest, no one but me likes Ruler in the fandom. Thanks for reading.
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wormbussy · 3 years
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I hope to god Dune comes out and Twitter doesn't kill it, there is a perfect storm for a good adaptation of this series to happen and actually make its money back so that more than one movie happens.
So far overwhelmingly feedback from the test screenings have been positive but I'm a bit cagey about how the teenagers who haven't seen it and still want an opinion will frame the discourse around it.
The diet nazis got triggered when Denis cast a Black woman as Liet-Kynes because the character isn't explicitly Black in the book (not that he's explicitly white either, not that race is treated as a socially relevant concept in a science fiction book set 10 000 years in the future) but thankfully they seem to have forgotten this movie exists so they mostly got salty about it and moved on to cry about something else.
What worries me a bit more, in the sense that there is the potential for truly well-meaning but wrong-headed hot takes on this movie that shape the reception a lot more than 5 losers foaming at the mouth over casting, is the white saviour angle. Because like, yes, Paul in the first book is 100% framed as a white saviour Lawrence of Arabia type. These were and are familiar tropes that the book was intentionally referencing to set up reader expectations a certain way. However, where people in my opinion miss the point when they point this out, is that the first trilogy largely functions as a deconstruction of Special Boys who show up and save everyone.
Like, if this book had been written by a lesser author, then the whole plotline of this Special kid coming from the top of a feudal society who shows up and embeds with Space Bedouins who have a Prophecy about him, and he instinctively knows their whole culture, and becomes their leader, and helps them liberate themselves when they couldn't do it on their own, would have been played completely straight.
However, and this is something I kind of missed the first couple times I read the first book, all the prophecy stuff is explicitly, and very early on, stated to have been planted by the Bene Gesserit to manipulate the Fremen on the off chance a BG and her son showed up and needed shelter.
It's a deconstruction. The author is yelling at you to not trust this kid he's setting up as a heroic shonen protagonist with a messiah complex.
That changes everything. Because then Paul isn't actually a white saviour, because he isn't a saviour at all. He's an - admittedly white-coded - kid who is playing the saviour initially so he and his mom don't get murdered, and it works because the people he's white-saving were manipulated into expecting him through conveniently vague prophecies planted by his mom's cult. Things kind of snowball from there after a few acid trips in the desert, and he ultimately turns out to be a terrible leader who frames his indecision as a lack of agency and eventually gets so many people killed he literally compares himself to Hitler. Him "saving" the planet and the Fremen, it eventually turns out, is slowly killing the planet and destroying Fremen culture.
It's difficult to elaborate more without spoiling like 2 whole books even more than I already have, but the entire point Herbert was trying to make was "charismatic leaders are ultimately more dangerous than people who are just openly giant assholes because they can make you do whatever they want with your total compliance and zero scrutiny".
Except that isn't really something that is likely to be showcased in a blockbuster adapting basically the first half of the first book in a six-book series more famous for long-winded philosophical epigraphs and people tripping balls on space acid, so I hope to god the writing sets it up properly and people stick around long enough to get to the payoff.
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cinnamonest · 3 years
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I’m pushing out another one of my long-since-drafted things to the queue bc I’m trying to start keeping the queue active 24/7 and fill more asks but have this in the meantime
//dark shit, like the blood gore violence kind of yandere not the hot kind, brief animal death, gruesome slow npc death, gore, violence, blood, decaying/putrefaction mention
I'm really bad at judging what's mild versus severe when it comes to gore/blood bc I tend to underestimate, I think this is kinda severe? Let me know which it is actually pls so I have a better idea for the future ---------------------------------------- I mentioned a while back in the corpse disposal post and murder methods post that Razor can be... Brutal to say the least, but to expand more on the concept I feel like there's a big potential for a sort of gap moe with him, a duality that seems to contradict itself. Because in many ways he's a sweetheart, always trying to find things to make you happy, often smiling with those wide, excited eyes, physically affectionate with nuzzles and the like. But the other side of that, he's not actually aware of how... desensitized he is. You notice it early on and it catches you off guard a bit the first time it happens. Some poor little animal you two see struggling, like a bird stuck in a tree, and you urge him to go get it and he nods and says ok. Grabs it, and just as you're about to thank him and let it go you hear its little bones snap under the crush of his grip with a final pained chirp. There, he got it, see? Now you two can eat it together. That was why you wanted him to grab it right? To kill it? Why else? He looks down and realizes oh, it's still twitching, so he reached a hand up and twists its neck. There, now it's dead, he says with a beaming smile. But it falls and he tilts his head when he sees the shocked look on your face. What's wrong? Why are you so upset? You soon learn a lot of the animals don't... die immediately. The little things the wolves drag back are still kicking and struggling, still making noises as they tear into them to devour. It makes you sick to your stomach when you witness it, tears come to your eyes. He knows you don't like it and warns you, but... he doesn't understand why? Why does it upset you like that? He doesn't get it. It's a gnawing awareness in the back of your mind. You start to pick up on his... lack of reactions to certain things. You were once in the church getting healing for a minor wound of his when another group of adventurers came rushing through the doors, desperately begging for help for their friend they were carrying... some guy seriously injured, gored by a boar. The sight is burned in your mind forever, the organs spilling out of his split gut, the shivering and wide, bloodshot eyes, the blood bubbling out of his mouth with choked horrific groans and the way his body convulsed involuntarily. The most horrid thing you'd ever seen. And you were pretty certain it was that way for everyone. Everyone in the church was gasping, some people were retching and trying to hold back sickness, people ran out of the room as they were unable to handle the scene, tears were in everyone's eyes, and as the man wailed in agony from them setting his dislocated bones, you watched the bystanders cringe and wince. Every person in the vicinity was visibly horrified.... except for one. Razor's face was neutral. Curious. He leaned in closer to get a better look, eyebrows raised. He doesn't flinch at the sight of organs spilling onto the ground and the man starting to convulse and foam at the mouth as his eyes roll back into his head. And then, after a moment, he asks if you're ready to leave, says he feels better now and that man is really loud, he doesn't like it. His voice doesn't even have the slightest hint of a wavering or discomfort. When you come across a man in the woods caught in a bear trap, you can barely stand to look at it. Just hearing the cries for help had you shivering, and the sight of the pooling blood and utter agony on the man's face had you gasping, hand over your mouth as you tried to look away. ...Razor didn't seem to mind, though. He just undoes the trap and, without giving the man any warning, yanks it apart, pulling the spikes from his legs. As he does, blood shoots out and splatters on his face. He doesn't flinch, nor when the man screams. He does finally seem to react to the pained groans the man makes. But... It's not like your reactions. He's not flinching and grimacing, drawing in sharp breaths and tensing up, eyes watering in pity and shock like you. Instead, his eyes narrow and he puts his hands over his ears as you stoop down to help the poor man. His eyebrows furrow. He almost looks... Annoyed. He draws his foot back as if he's about to kick him, but freezes with realization when he looks at you, as if he forgot you were standing there, and puts his foot back down. You're certain he wasn't actually going to do that, of course. You're not sure why he did that, but... He wouldn't do something like that, even in a moment of dissociation from his human awareness. He does volunteer to be the one to go get help, though, getting away fast, but for some reason you sense it was more out of irritation at the noise rather than horror at the whole thing. Perhaps the worst was the decomposing body, that day you took a walk in the woods together. He smelled it first, nose wrinkling up in disgust at the putrid smell. But it was strong enough that you smelled it soon after. He says having dead animals this close to the residence of the pack is not good, they all hate the smell, so he can try to move the carcass of whatever animal it is... but it's not an animal, it turns out, once you finally find the source, collapsed at the bottom of a cliff from where they most likely fell to their death. Well, it's kind of a stretch to say it still resembles a human either, but you can tell from the general shape. It's more just like a glob, putrefied and rotting flesh falling off the bones. It shocks you so much you fall backwards, but he just moves closer. Ugh, too far rotted to move, he can't do anything about it, he realizes as he gives the decaying mass a kick and watches the blackened flesh slide off the bones. Oh well. ...In your shock, it takes you a moment to realize how... unbothered he seems. Mildly annoyed by the smell, but his expression is neutral as he looks at one of the most horrifying sights you've ever seen, he just yawns as he walks away from it and says you two should get away from the smell, it makes his head hurt.
The events all linger in the back of your head. A growing sense of wrongness, a dark, cold dread that settles in your stomach as the occurrences slowly grow in number, one after the other, each time you notice the complete lack of any sign of disturbance on his face, in his voice or body language. You ask him once, one time when you get the courage to ask such a... potentially offensive question. Don't you... feel anything when you see things dying? When they're in pain? He nods. He gets what you mean. The feeling when you watch something die. Hungry, right? Oh, no? Maybe you mean the irritation, a kind of angry feeling, what's the word... impatient...? Because the thing is taking too long to die and he wants it to go ahead and die already. Or maybe you mean like when that man was injured? When something is dying but it's not something you wanna eat? Yeah, he has a feeling then too. Um... kind of like anger... you taught him the word once... annoyed? They make so much noise, and he doesn't like loud things. When that man came into the church... he didn't like how loud it was. Why didn't they just kill him, since he was making so much noise...? He doesn't get it. When things annoy him, he kills them, like loud birds and biting bugs. He kinda had an urge to just... reach out and make the man stop screaming, just twist his neck like he does small animals when they make too much noise. But he's smart, he says, he knows the other people might get mad. Yes, he uses the word "might," not "would," as if it was a mere possibility. So it doesn't really come as a surprise when the same attitude applies to the people at his own mercy, the people that get too close to you and end up dragged out to the woods. It's that same knowing dread in your gut, and while it horrifies you as much as it always has, you wouldn't have expected anything else. Maybe some people would feel bad about what they're doing, they would want to go ahead and get it over with, they couldn't take the begging and agony the other party is in... but not only is he totally unbothered, but if he kills him now, he says, the blood will go all over the ground, and that's bad, his lupical like eating the blood in things. So he just snaps the man's bones, that way he won't run away. It's hard to describe the excruciated noises that come out of the other's throat when he does. It's unlike any noise you've ever heard a human make, that kind of pain. The sweat that pours from the other's skin from the agony, the way his mouth hangs open even when he can't scream anymore, the trembling and muffled begging as he moves to the next limb. You tremble and cry. You shiver uncontrollably, you whimper for him to stop. Your eyes widen when he grabs each limb and you close your eyes and sob and grimace and cringe with the snapping sound. Razor, on the other hand, stays just as neutral as before. Face blank and empty, as if performing any other mundane task. He doesn't flinch at the snapping. His expression is unchanging at the sound of screams and the groans as he drags the still-living figure behind him by his shattered ankle all the way back home. When he finally goes to look back at you, he tilts his head at the look on your face. Why do you still look upset? There's no blood yet... isn't it blood that makes you upset? Maybe not? Maybe it's the sound that bothers you? Yeah, you flinch whenever the man groans in pain, so it must be the sounds of the dying things that you don't like, it annoys him too really. Ok, that can be fixed... sound comes from the throat right? Well, he left his claymore a ways away so, it'll just take a second, the guy is thrashing a bit but eventually he holds him still enough to get his teeth latched around his throat and just... bites down. The sound is a squelching, crunching sound, one that you'll never forget, it makes every hair on your body stand on end and your skin crawl. He pulls back with the mass of bleeding flesh and tracheal tissue in his jaws and spits it out on the ground. There, see...? You can see the blood on his teeth reflecting the light as he smiles. He's not making noises anymore, so... why do you still have that look on your face? Is it because the body on the ground is all... spasming and convulsing like that? Well, uh... that'll stop soon, probably. At least it's nice and quiet now. He gets it, really, he doesn't like loud noises either.
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passivenovember · 3 years
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You Look Stupid When You’re Sad.
Steve Harrington smelled of sour patch kids and unbaked cookie dough.
Billy didn't think it was a bad smell, exactly, just weird; intense, heady, and stuck to the walls of his brain. Doughy when the sunlight couldn't dry the track marks of Steve's sweat before nap time, heady when it got into Billy's system and stuck with him like the thrum of his heartbeat.
Wherever Billy went Steve Harrington was there. Like a shadow. A noisy, scrawny, wire-frame glasses wearing shadow that elbowed its way into the chair across from Billy's during lunch and followed him around at recess; three feet behind and always pretending to spot interesting shapes in the clouds when he thought Billy wasn't looking, but.
Billy was always looking.
It was so weird.
Steve was so weird. The way he made bright, happy noises when he was paired with Billy for station time, how he always drug his mat over from the other side of the room to sleep next to Billy when it was time to zonk out after second recess despite knowing that the spot was saved for Barbara, Billy's actual best friend.
She got nightmares and Billy liked to be there to hold her hand while she dreamed but every afternoon, without fail, Steve came wondering over with his lip stuck out in a question.
It was confusing.
Steve was so confusing. The way he hugged his mat to his chest, chin quivering with a little, "Okay. Sorry, Bills." Every time Billy slapped his hand on the carpet and growled that the spot was taken. Occupation, not reserved for pasty-kneed dorks with wire frame glasses, and.
Billy didn't want to make the kid cry, or anything, but he always managed to do just that. Paint himself as a bad guy.
Billy rubbed his forehead as Barb settled in on his left hand side one afternoon after such an altercation, smiling so big her lips disappeared behind the plastic frames of her glasses.
"What's wrong, Stevie?" She asked, and.
Billy tried not to be jealous.
Steve hiccupped, cheeks growing redder by the second. "I wanna nap with you guys but Billy won't let me."
"Hey, that's not--"
"You can sleep with us if you want to. Billy has a really big blanket, maybe he can share with both of us." Barbara looked at him expectantly, like. "Right Billy?"
And it was dumb.
It was so dumb, that they were staring at him with hopeful eyes and Steve's chin was still quivering and Billy didn't want to be the bad guy; he wasn't Mesogog and he didn't want to hurt the kid's feelings, but.
Steve Harrington got under his skin. With his soft hair and big brown eyes, always following Billy around and begging for the space to be made. Billy got clumsy and nervous when Bambi was nearby, and.
The idea of sharing space. Sleeping next to Steve with his chirpy little noises and warm soft hands, it.
Made Billy feel like he was breaking out in itchy red bumps.
No.
He would stick to his guns; the blanket just wasn't big enough for three people. But then, Billy's grumpy brain supplied, Steve could steal Barbara and keep her as his own best friend if Billy didn't let him stay, so. It was time to cut his losses.
"God, you look stupid when you're sad." Billy muttered.
Steve started crying again.
Billy really wished he'd stop that.
"I'm sorry, Billy. I know I'm dumb but I don't mean to be." Steve whimpered. He tucked his mat under his arm and made to get up.
And leave.
As if Billy would let Steve make him look bad in front of everyone, especially Barbara.
"Lay down, dork." Billy grumbled, tugging the blanket up around his shoulders and peeling it back for Steve reluctantly.
Harrington's smile was so bright it could've melted crayons when he settled in close, chirping happily as Billy pulled the blanket around them and tucked in on impulse. The room went dark, Mr. Talamantez reminding them to count butterflies if sleep wouldn't come.
It didn't.
Steve smelled too much like cream and sugar for Billy to get any rest at all.
--
"Whatcha making, Billy?" Steve asked, pink tongue poking out in concentration as he peered over Billy's arm at his art project.
A stack of pink and red construction paper was Billy's favorite thing in the world because it meant endless possibilities. Pink was soft and sweet, red was passionate and cool. Like hot wheels and firetrucks and hearts full of warm oven mitts, so.
He pulled the leaflets from his backpack during circle time and got busy, carefully folding the delicate paper hamburger style and then tracing swirly, dramatic lines for each heart on the page.
Valentines was Billy's most favorite day of the year.
Even more than Christmas, even more than his birthday, and only a little bit more than Halloween because on Valentines? The whole universe was covered in flowers and little tin wrapped chocolates and love hearts were the best thing for a kid to make with scissors.
Billy ignored Steve's tongue, turning his shoulders to the room. "I'm making love hearts."
"For who?"
"None of your beeswax."
"Okay," Steve said happily, grabbing a handful of markers and re-situating himself much closer than Billy would've liked. Steve's Nike's tapped the itsy-bitsy-spider on the rug as he declared, "I'm drawing batman on a surfboard!"
And Billy tossed aside his first ruined Valentine. "Oh cool, I don't remember asking."
"That's okay," Steve giggled. "Sometimes I get motor mouth. My Daddy says it's 'cause I'm a fruit."
"My daddy called me that sometimes before he got sick." Billy turned to glare at him. "That's not a good thing."
"It is to me!" Steve giggled again. He was always doing that. "I like Kiwis. My mommy packed some for lunch and I had them for breakfast. They're yummy in geek yogurt. They make me smile because they have beards!"
Steve cackled like kiwi's having beards was the funniest thing on earth and Billy wondered what there was to be so happy about.
He tried not to smile at Steve's dumb face. "I think you mean Greek yogurt."
"Yeah, probably. If I'm like a kiwi, that's alright, I think." Steve's tongue poked out again. "Surfboards make me think of you." He declared, and.
Steve smelled like toasted chocolate on s'mores, his hands somehow kicking up more of his sugary sweet odor each time he reached for a new piece of paper. Billy didn't know how he was supposed to get anything done when his circle buddy smelled like a chocolate birthday cake.
It was kinda gross.
Billy pulled out a sliver marker and traced Stinky Butt Max on one of the smaller Valentines, remembering to fold down the corners so the sensitive skin on her palms wouldn't get hurt when she inevitably started smacking him it.
The pink Valentine looked more like a chewed up Starburst gummy this way, but. Max wouldn't know the difference.
Steve peered over his shoulder again, cooing softly. Like a baby dove. "That ones pretty, Bills! Is Max your Valentine?"
"Ew," Billy wrinkled his nose like he sometimes did when Max needed a diaper change. "She's my baby sister, don't be an Ick Monster."
"What's an Ick Monster?"
"Somebody who makes weird jokes and says weird things, so." Billy shrugged, scrawling his mothers name on a second love heart. He poked Steve's tummy with his marker. "That's you, I think."
Steve giggled before slapping Billy's hand away, and. Watching him work.
After a while Steve inched closer. "So you don't have a Valentine?" He wondered, and.
Billy didn't understand the question. "Mr. Talamantez said we're all each other's Valentines so nobody feels sad."
"Yeah, but. Everybody has someone they want to smooch on Valentines." Steve started playing with his hair, fingers twisting waves in a sea of brown, like they sometimes did when he was nervous. "Someone they like best-best. Better than all the other kids."
Now it was Billy's turn to giggle. "That's icky."
"Smooching?" Steve's eyes sparkled. "It's fun sometimes."
"Like you've ever kissed anyone."
Steve looked offended. "Have too."
"Have not."
"Have too," Steve pouted, crossing his arms.
Billy began work on a third Valentine. "Who did you kiss?"
"Nancy Wheeler."
Billy snorted, not sure if he wanted to imagine Steve kissing Nancy Wheeler, or. Kissing at all.
Steve's chin started quivering. "You don't believe me?"
"No." Billy said lightly, capping the marker with a sniff.
Kissing was not fun. It was wet and violent and looked like it maybe hurt a little bit, the way he'd seen his mom and Susan kiss when he got up to go potty at night. Billy regarded Steve through easy, narrowed eyes; Steve wasn't the kind of boy who kissed like that.
"How come you're so weird?" Billy wondered.
"I like being weird." Steve said, reaching for a green marker to color in his surfboard. Steve nodded at the small pile of Valentine's strewn on the carpet between them. "You should put the love hearts on foam when you're done."
"I was already gonna do that, genius."
Billy wasn't already going to do that, but he'd eat a centipede before he let Harrington know he came up with a good idea.
"They could be superhero colors!" Steve hollered suddenly. He was so loud all the time. "That way your mommy and sissy can know that you love them because they're cool. Like Aqua-man."
Billy frowned, watching Steve fold his Batman drawing over and over again until it all but disappeared from sight. He leaned back against the wall with an eye roll, shocked out how much Harrington lacked any concept of taste, or.
Shame.
"Aqua-man isn't cool," Billy said. Because Aqua-man wasn't, he was like. The lamest of them all. "His only power is making the bad guys drown, at least the other heroes can punch really hard."
"Punching isn't always the best, though." Steve tucked Batman into the front pocket of his shirt, leaning into Billy's space. "Sometimes punching just makes the bad guys stronger. Like Wilson Fisk."
Billy frowned. "Punching works for Spiderman."
Steve considered this fact, pink tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth again. He thought really hard for a long time, as if Steve didn't have Spiderman socks on everyday at recess when he removed his Nike's to fill them with rocks.
Such a weird guy.
Finally, Steve smiled. "I like water, though. Your eyes are like water. From the fountain in the hallway, and like the lake at camp." Steve pushed his way into Billy's space, frowning with his head cocked to the side like there was more thinking to cross of the list. "You're very pretty, Billy. Like a cloud."
And.
Billy didn't have the words to articulate the way Steve's smell went a little crazy after that, like a bag of powdered sugar had caught fire from a signal light once he realized what he'd said. Billy waited for Steve to take it back, because.
Boys calling other boys pretty wasn't allowed in Mr. Talamantez' classroom, or. Anywhere else.
Steve didn't take it back.
"You wouldn't like Aqua-Man's water, 'cause you'd drown." Billy said, getting back to work on his Valentines if only for a distraction from the way Steve was watching him. "He doesn't control his power very well and sometimes the mean guys get hurt real bad."
Steve kept right on talking. "I wouldn't be a mean guy though," He reasoned, sliding impossibly closer on the alphabet rug. "I'd help him fight crimes. Like Captain Underpants!"
And.
Billy had nothing to say to that, sucked in and drowning by the way Steve's eyes were glittering.
"You're a weird guy, you know?" Billy breathed.
Steve's giggle went right to Billy's tummy, teaching it to do backflips, somehow.
"That's okay." Steve said, reaching back for a fresh piece of paper. "You'll remember me better and maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine."
Steve's hair fell across his eyes, head bopping along to whatever song he was singing to himself today. His lips glittered like a frosted donut. Like he'd been eating a strawberry ice cream cone instead of confusing all the boys around him.
Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.
Huh.
Billy started work on a new love heart and pretended not to notice.
--
On Tuesday morning Billy woke to the smell of pancakes and fresh squeezed orange juice.
Maxine was already up.
Her long red hair was piled on top of her head in two Princess Leia buns. Susan had put in little heart clips and the pink dress Billy's mommy had made special was already covered in mashed banana and something that looked like magic marker.
She was all ready for Valentines day.
Billy didn't understand why they bothered trying to make her look dainty when Max was more interested in destroying Billy's favorite toys and starting fires.
She sat on the floor of the room they shared together, sucking her thumb and playing with Billy's favorite race car. Her wet, chubby fingers made the blue Camaro shine brightly with spit and Billy felt like his face was burning up.
"Hey," He said, rubbing at his eyes. "Hey, you're getting spit all over my--"
"Race car!"
Max held it out to him triumphantly. Billy frowned, moving to grab it from her chubby little fist. "I know that's my race--"
"It's a blue car," Max said thoughtfully. She looked at him, like, "Blue cars are my favorite."
"It's my favorite too--"
"Can we share?" Max wondered, putting the little wheels on Billy's knee and letting the car zoom back and forth. He imagined that Evel Knievel was in the drivers seat wondering why his car wasn't first in the race.
She looked happy, like always, to be playing with Billy's toys.
He sighed. "Yeah, I guess we can share. It's Valentine's Day."
Max seemed to enjoy that. "I like today!"
"You do?"
"Yup," She said happily, little chubby fingers tangling in Billy's hair because he hadn't brushed it yet. "Candy and sour gummy worms and kisses from cute boys!"
Billy glared. "You're kissing cute boys?"
"Uh-huh!" Max hollered. "Lucas gave me a dandelion."
Billy thought long and hard.
About Valentines Day and all the things that came with it. The pink shirt that hung pressed in his closet, fresh cupcakes with plastic rings, a bag of Scooby-doo Valentines Susan had picked up at the market for all his classmates, homemade love hearts at the bottom of his backpack. Three with red foam, one with a delicate lace doily, and.
Kisses.
Max was getting flowers and kisses from a boy.
From someone special.
Billy took the race car from Max's hand and drove it around, thinking about boys with brown eyes and soft hands.
Maybe you'll ask me to be your Valentine.
"Wanna eat some breakfast, Max?"
"I had 'nanas." She said with a smirk.
Billy hummed, standing to get dressed. "Mama probably made chocolate chip pancakes, you don't wanna eat something special?"
Max's little red eyebrows pinched together. "I can have yours?"
And.
Billy didn't know what was so necessary to her about taking everything that was his. Playing with his toys, sleeping in his pj's, eating his breakfast, it was like Max didn't know how take something and make it her own.
Billy pulled the pink shirt over his head, feeling every bit like a turtle when Max did the same with the collar of her dress.
"You can have my pancakes." Billy concluded, puffing out his chest. "If you'll be my Valentine."
"You don't have a boy to kiss?"
"I might," Billy picked the race car off the ground with a smile. "This is practice for when I see him at school. So, will you be my Valentine?"
She thought about it.
Long and hard, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, before nodding with her entire body. "I think he will."
Billy sighed. "Really?"
"If you give him sour gummy worms and smooch his forehead he will," Max said.
And.
Maybe things would turn out okay. Billy nodded, grabbing the race car and driving it across Max's forehead, careful that the little plastic wheels didn't get stuck in her hair.
--
From the stucco ceiling of the classroom beautiful strands of silver and gold hearts painted a mirage of stars.
All the desks had a rose and a cardboard mailbox intended for the delivery of Valentines and at the center of the room a table filled with cupcakes and strawberry Capri-sun packets. Preparation for the party this afternoon, and.
Mr. Talamantez had turned their space into a glittering, perfect fairytale.
Billy hugged his basket of Valentines close to his chest and tried not to search for Steve before dropping his backpack at the cubby station.
He was right in the middle of tugging his special sweater down over his head when Barbara scooted in next to him, pretty in a little pink jumpsuit.
She handed him a tiny, delicate giftbag full of chocolate hearts and dinosaur erasers, smiling from ear to ear as Billy hugged her nice and tight before handing off something he had made special. A tiny paper crane his mommy helped him fold, and a bunch of rainbow goldfish sat nestled in a basket of paper Mache.
They were her favorite snack in the whole world and Barbara was Billy's favorite person, so it seemed fitting.
She hugged him and Billy smiled, peering around the room for a head of wavy brown hair. "We could share our presents with Steve," He muttered, like. It wasn't a big deal or anything. Billy tugged on the sleeves of his red sweater and tried to stay cool. "Where is he?"
Barbara pointed to the book shelves.
Steve was sat under a string of twinkly lights, shoulders tucked against the pillows Mr. Talamantez set aside for circle time. His face was buried in the crook of his elbow, and.
He was crying.
Of course he was crying.
Billy felt the Valentine in his pocket grow heavy.
Barbara said, "Steve broke his glasses, maybe you could make him smile?"
And.
Billy wanted to do that. Longed to make Steve giggle and chirp with happiness like the annoying little Meadowlark he seemed be. It would be so easy to. Walk over there, tap Steve's shoulder, and say the words.
Pose the question.
Will you be my Valentine?
Steve was making huffy, nervous little noises when Billy came to a stop beside him.
"Hey Harrington, playing with all your friends?" Billy sneered, confident that Steve would giggle like he was did, but.
When he finally turned around his face was red and puffy. As if he'd been crying all morning and all night, too.
"What do you want, Billy?" Steve whispered.
He sounded sleepy. Spread thin, like the last spoonful of jam on burned toast.
"What's wrong?" Billy asked carefully. "What happened?"
Steve sat and rubbed at his eyes, chin wobbling as more tears spilled over. "My daddy broke my glasses." He whispered.
And Billy hated it.
He always hated when Steve cried but today. Right now, he.
Felt like he had to do something about it.
Billy took the love heart from his pocket and sat down next to Steve, cuddling back into the pillows until their shoulders were touching. It took all of five seconds for Steve to settle in next to him. Roll his head back against the wall until he was looking at Billy with a question in his eyes.
Steve looked at Billy's shoulder and back up at his face, like.
"Can I--"
"Come here, stupid." Billy grumbled, Pulling Steve in until they were cuddling on the pillows.
Steve chirped. It wasn't his usual sound, light and airy, it was.
Thick.
And heavy.
Like a blanket sopped with rain water. Steve buried his face in Billy's neck. "I don't have any Valentines to give this year."
"That's okay."
"I made something special for you," Steve whispered, pulling back to study Billy's face. "I know Mr. Talamantez said we weren't supposed to, but--"
"Will you be my Valentine?" Billy's stupid mouth said.
Steve blinked at him, and.
Billy wanted to hide in the bathroom for thousand years.
Steve pulled away to sit crisscross-applesauce. Facing Billy, like this was something important. "Huh?"
Billy mirrored him, tucking his hands away so they wouldn't shake when he held out the love heart.
It was pink. Big and bright and outlined with a white doily that Susan helped him glue around the edges. Billy had dug through Max's box of stickers for the one with Winne the Pooh, the one he'd been saving for someone special. Winnie was covered in tiny valentines, eating right out of a jar of honey with a butterfly sitting on his nose, and.
Billy had thought it was perfect.
He worked for hours on the font. The saying that made his mommy laugh when he read it to her; you're bear-y sweet. Be my Valentine.
Steve took the love heart in his hands, and.
Didn't say anything.
Billy frowned. "I just. Remember you asked me to be your Valentine, or. For you to be mine. And--" His hands were shaking again. "It's stupid. God, this is--"
Steve leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek.
It was gentle. Like the brush of butterfly wings, barely there and then gone before Billy had a chance to really register the movement, or. Think about what it could mean.
Steve wasn't crying anymore when he said, "I'll be your Valentine."
Billy's brain took a minute to catch up. "Huh?"
"I'll be your Valentine, Billy." Steve giggled, staring down at the love heart once more. "This is so cute. I loved Winnie the Pooh when I was a baby. My mom always put me in footie pajamas that had Eeyore on them. And tinker bell too, sometimes. You could've put the Red power ranger on there instead. He's my favorite--"
Billy sat back against the pillows.
He was learning that Steve Harrington was weird.
Like a puzzle with one piece missing, or. An empty tube of bubble mix. Steve was colorful and loud and all over the place with opinions. He shined bright and loved hard, and.
Sometimes it was best to sit back and listen.
--
Happy Valentines Day!!
I really just sat down and wrote this. Wow. Anyway--thank you for reading and supporting my work. Your comments and endless kindness keep me going when I don't always feel like trucking on, and I wanted to do something to remind you that if this was an elementary school classroom I would give you so many lollipops.
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clairefraiseauthor · 3 years
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How to show, not tell in your writing
Probably the most common piece of writing advice you hear in creative writing classes at any level is show, don’t tell. But what does that mean, and how do you do it?
When writing teachers say show instead of tell, what they’re saying is show the readers what you’re writing about, don’t tell it to them.
Check out the difference between these two sentences:
Henry was happy.
A grin spread across Henry’s face.
In the first sentence, the author tells you what Henry is feeling. But in the second sentence, the author shows you what Henry looks like and allows you to visualize Henry. Everyone knows to generally associate smiles with happiness. Depending on the context of the scene, your readers will be able to ascertain that Henry is happy from that image.
You can also see this in paragraph form. I found a great example from Jericho Writers, where the author compared a passage from The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald to what the passage would be like if told:
Telling: The parties were dazzling and opulent. They spilled out of the house, into the garden, and even the beach.
Showing: In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars. … The last swimmers have come in from the beach now and are dressing up-stairs; the cars from New York are parked five deep in the drive floating rounds of cocktails permeate the garden outside … the lights grow brighter as the earth lurches away from the sun, and now the orchestra is playing yellow cocktail music, and the opera of voices pitches a key higher.
Passages that are shown rely on specific and sensory language. Instead of saying “the parties were dazzling,” Fitzgerald gives you specific images of the swimmers, the cars, the cocktails, and the orchestra. He breaks down this larger category of party into more specific things that allow you to visualize what the party is like instead of just hearing the word “party.” Notice how he doesn’t use the word party at all. He allows the reader to ascertain that it is a party from the specific images he uses.
Show don’t tell is typically coined the golden rule of fiction writing. But it’s one thing to understand the concept, and another to incorporate it into your work.
(1) The first thing to understand about show don’t tell is that it doesn’t apply to every situation. Not everything that happens in your story needs to be shown. There is just some information in stories that isn’t that important. If your character was going home from work, it would be boring to have a section where instead of “Becky gets on the bus,” you show Becky waiting for the bus, checking her phone, the bus screeching to a halt, the doors opening with a hiss, a stranger knocking into Becky to climb the steps first, etc. If there is a jump in time between important moments in your story, it’s way better to tell your readers about the time skip than it is for the readers to get bored by pages of unnecessary detail. You want to show moments that propel your story forward. You want to tell moments that bridge those moments together so that your reader can get to the next important moment as fast as possible.
(2) The second thing to understand about show don’t tell is that it also applies to narrative structure. For the past few years, I have been working on a book that tells the story of a 16-year-old girl who, after a tragic accident, has to put her family back together over the course of a summer. I started writing this story with a first-person, past narrative structure where the present-day action moved on from the tragic event, and I included flashbacks interspaced with the present-day scenes to help readers piece together what happened on the night of the tragic event. This didn’t work because the first-person past-tense narrator knew more than the reader did. She told the story like she was recounting it to another person, which led to a lot of telling as she “remembered” these events. This didn’t allow the reader to experience the story alongside the narrator, so it wasn’t as interesting to read. When I changed the tense to be present-tense and made the story chronological, it revamped the tension and got rid of the telling that the narrator kept doing because the readers got to see everything in real-time with her. Beware of narratives that rely on telling. If you are doing first-person past, make sure that you stay with your characters in the moment to bring the story to life. 
(3) You need to internalize the markers for when you’re telling. In scenes, common words that indicate you are telling include:
- Felt/feel
- To (he picked up the baseball bat to…). Instead of writing this, show what he’s going to do with the bat.
- When (When ____, then _____. Break it up into sentences.)
- As (see above)
- In [emotion]
- Any emotion words
- Heard/hear
- Saw/see
- Realized/Realize
- Noticed/Notice
- Knew/Know
- Decided/Decide
I struggled a lot with show, don’t tell when I was a young writer. What helped me was creating a database of physical traits corresponding to each emotion. AKA, Different ways we physically express fear, happiness, anger, hurt, desire, etc. Then, when I wanted to say, “She was terrified,” I could say, “Her stomach dropped.” Book recommendation: The Emotion Thesaurus.
(4) Focus on the specific imagery. You want your reader to experience the story. Your characters experience the story with their senses. Our world is specific. When you’re getting ready for bed, you are using a mirror with a specific shape, that might be smudged or dusty, and using a specific toothbrush, maybe an electric one, that may or may not make your teeth vibrate and make foam drip out of the corner of your mouth if you’re not careful. Your toothpaste tastes like something. Nothing is ever experienced in summary. If the moment of brushing your teeth is important in your story, you want your reader to experience it as the character did, and you want to describe it as specifically as possible using as many of the five senses as you can.
Essentially, your job as a writer is to grab hold of your reader’s hand and pull them through your story. You want them to have an experience reading it, not just hear the facts, and the way that you do that is by showing them crucial moments that advance your story, not just ones that fluff it up. And a crucial moment in your story is one where your characters change in some way or learn something new that leads them to the next part of your plot. Show those moments. If a scene is not doing that, cut it.
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Everything You Need To Know About Zombies, And 5 Sightings Of The Real-life Walking Dead We STILL Can’t Explain
At this point, I’m not sure anything would surprise me.
In fact, a zombie apocalypse would actually make sense at this point. But even if the grand finale of 2020 was the dead rising from their graves, it wouldn’t actually be the first time.
According to those that practice Haitian Voodoo, zombies exist. And according to scientists, zombies exist.
But the thing is, Hollywood has gotten our favourite flesh-eating, apocalypse-heralding monsters wrong. The folklore behind these monsters is actually rather different than men and women foaming at the mouth as they mummy-walk towards you.
The reanimated corpse didn’t take its first steps with the debut cinema screening of Night Of The Living Dead (1968).
It started with slaves.
Today we are going to cover everything you need to know about zombies from forgotten folklore of years gone by, to the rumours of the living dead among us in preparation from the incoming apocalypse...
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What Are Zombies?
It’s pretty simple: a zombie is someone who was dead and is now not-so-dead. According to an official definition they are corpses which have been brought back from the grave to haunt the living.
Yep - they’re just like ghosts. But instead of wafting gently they have to lump around this great hulking cadaver which is in the midst of decay.
Zombies can be traced back to Haitian Voodoo which claims that a dead body can be reanimated by magical rituals. This supernatural take on the walking dead, however, is at odds with more modern fictional beliefs which centre on science.
Parasites, diseases, and viruses (*looks into camera*) feature as the main causes of zombies taking over the world in Hollywood’s take on the beast. This new zombie first pulled itself out of the ground in 1968 with Night Of The Living Dead, but the term ‘zombies’ was only applied by fans after the release of the cult classic. They were originally known as ‘ghouls’ in the film, confirming the premise that zombies exist to haunt the living.
Following this on-screen debut, the horror genre was overrun by zombie films with Dawn Of The Dead and Thriller going down in history as some of the most iconic movies of all time. The genre waned towards the 90s, however, and was due a resurgence just before the millennium thanks to predominately East Asian video games.
28 Days Later and Shaun Of The Dead resurrected the genre at the turn of the century and shaped what zombies are now known most for: the zombie apocalypse.
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The terrifying claims of a civilised world being brought to its knees by walking corpses is now a pop culture staple, but more recently its been given a makeover and shopping montage as a part of its rom-com redo. Warm Bodies and iZombie are a novel take on the horror must-have and incorporate a human-zombie relationship that is an emblem for the sexual liberation of the era.
The severed relationship between supernatural zombies and the sci-fi alternative doesn’t just take place on Netflix. There is evidence that both could exist.
Zombies In Haitian Voodoo
In 1819, poet Robert Southey was the first to use the term ‘zombie’ in his history of Brazil. This heralded the emergence of zombies in Haitian Voodoo which chimed with a concept even more terrifying than the prospect of a zombie apocalypse:
Slavery.
According to Haitian Voodoo, bokors - or witches - would use necromancy to revive a dead person. This zombie would then be under their control as a personal slave and would have no personal will.
Bokors were also known to capture ‘zombie astrals’ - part of the human soul - in a bottle which would provide the owner with extra luck or healing properties, for example.
These beliefs were rooted in Voodoo traditions brought to Haiti by enslaved Africans: they believed Baron Samedi would take them to an African heaven after they died. Those that offended the Ioa (a Voodoo god) would be a slave forever - AKA a zombie. This fear of eternal slavery was reinforced by slave drivers who were often also voodoo priests; to prevent slave suicides, they would threaten zombification.
It was this widespread belief in zombies as slaves that would spread beyond Haiti’s borders during the US’ occupation of the country in the early 20th century. A number of case studies reporting zombies came to the US’ attention, such as in the William Seabrook’s The Magic Island (1929): he cited an article in Haiti’s criminal code which recognised zombies’ existence, (it essentially said even if you murder someone and you make them come back as a zombie, it is still murder).
It was shortly after US forces entered Haiti that one of the most famous cases of an alleged zombie emerged. We will get to Felicia Felix-Mentor’s story later in this article.
Zombies In Science
Zombies are deeply rooted in some of humanity’s darkest chapters in history - but they also have a place in our natural history, too.
Technically, zombies do exist. Sure, if you made the claim for human zombification via Voodoo priest scientists would counter with claims that these ‘zombies’ are schizophrenic, in a catatonic state, or are suffering from a mental illness that mirrors how we believe they would act. But if you made a similar claim for other animals - namely insects - they’d believe you.
In fact, there are numerous known cases of such instances.
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Whilst there are no known insects that practice Haitian Voodoo, these cases follow the basic plotline of zombie cult classics - parasites infect them and alter their behaviour or use them to their advantage. The parasites effectively make slaves out of those they target, mirroring what we saw in Haiti.
Take zombie carpenter ants, for example:
A fungus enters their bloodstream, hijacks their mind and grows around their muscles. Within one short week the ant is compelled to leave its colony and seek higher ground which has the right temperature and humidity for the fungus to grow in. It then forces the ant to bite down into a leaf, grows a stalk through the ant's head, and cuts off the ant’s muscle control.
The ant’s corpse still moves its legs vigorously as the bulbous capsule of fungi spores grows through what’s left of its body to infect the ant colony below.
There are many more examples just like this with most parasites having their own unique - and uncomfortably brutal - method of killing off wildlife.
Scientists are unable to refute claims that a parasite might mutate and have a similar effect on humans one day, reducing us all to the zombie hordes seen in the movies.
We just have to wait and see. 
Cases Of Actual, Real-life, Not-so-living-n-breathing Zombies
Although scientists don’t support claims that Haitian voodoo can in fact raise the dead and create personal slaves, various sightings and reports suggest that human zombies do exist.
Question is - do you believe them?
#1 - Felicia Felix-Mentor
In 1936, the owner of a farm in a small village in Haiti woke up to quite a shock.
A naked woman staggered towards them with her raspy voice mumbling and slurring that this farm belonged to her farmer. But the most terrifying thing about this strange woman that stumbled her way through the village was that she looked rather familiar.
In fact, they were pretty sure that this was a woman who had died and had been buried many years before.
19 years before.
Zora Neale Hurston - an anthropologist - investigated this alleged case of zombification and met Felicia Felix-Mentor at a hospital. The doctors were convinced she was a zombie and her husband confirmed this was his wife.
Even Hurston admitted that she believed what they were telling her:
“I know that I saw the broken remnant, relic, or refuse of Felicia Felix-Mentor in a hospital yard.”
#2 - Clairvius Narcisse
30 odd years after Felix-Mentor first wandered up to her father’s old farm, a 40 year old man admitted himself into hospital in Deschapelles, Haiti. Doctors, however, were unable to work out why he had a fever, was clearly fatigued, and was spitting up blood. He died 3 days later.
20 years after he died, a man claiming to be Narcisse approached Angelina Narcisse, his sister.
He told her and other villagers private, personal information in an attempt to convince them that he was in fact Clairvius and had been turned into a zombie for use on a sugar plantation. He had been paralysed for the duration of his burial and then dug up to be put to work as a slave.
He described in detail the process of his alleged zombification, claiming she was given a paste made from hallucinogenic chemicals which scientists would later use to refute most claims of zombies as simply a drugged state. When the bokor died and he was no longer fed the concoction, he regained his sanity and thus his free will, and returned to his family.
Much like Felix-Mentor’s story, Narcisse is actually widely believed to have been a zombie. His death was documented by 2 American doctors unlikely to follow Haitian Voodoo folklore, and even the man who investigated his claims - Lamarque Douyon - believed to some extent zombies could be real despite dismissing supernatural claims.
He brought a sample of the powders or paste used by the bokor back to the US to investigate whether ‘zombies’ were actually people who were drugged and then revived.
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#3 - Woman from Port-au-Prince
Only known as FI to The Lancet, the journal investigating cases in southern Haiti in the late 90s, she was discovered 3 years after her death wandering near the village she once called home by a friend.
FI was mute and unable to feed herself but she was still recognised by her family, her fellow villagers, and the local priest by a distinct facial mark and other features.
The local courts opened her tomb to investigate the fact that she had apparently risen from the dead and found it full of stones. Her husband was accused of zombifying her after he caught her having an affair.
Despite local claims of supernatural goings-on, she was later admitted to a psychiatric hospital in Port-au-Prince.
#4 - Son of a secret policeman
WD (mentioned in the same study by The Lancet) was 18 years old when he became ill. He developed a fever, his body swelled up, and his eyes went yellow. They thought he was dying or at least already dead.
His father asked his brother to get advice from a bokor but WD died 3 days later. 19 months after he was buried, he reappeared at a cock fight and recognised his father before accusing his uncle of zombifying him.
#5 - Unknown young woman
MM (also mentioned in the same study by The Lancet) was joining her friends in prayer for a local who had been zombified when she fell under a similar affliction. The 18 year old became ill with diarrhoea and fever, her body swelled, and she died.
Her family immediately suspected a sorcerer had had their way with their daughter.
13 years later and MM reappeared at the town markets, claiming not only had she been a zombie in a village 100 miles away, she had had a child with another zombie.
When her bokor died, his son released MM from their control and she travelled home.
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What do you think?
Are zombies real? Or are they merely a fictional beast haunted by the forgotten history of slavery?
If you liked this post I’m pretty sure you’ll love the other articles I post every Saturday! Make sure you hit follow if you want to see ‘em.
Can’t wait ‘til next weekend for a new hit of horror? Check out this online archive of paranormal experiences…
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jojo-reader-hell · 4 years
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Jonathan Joestar x Selkie!Reader: Seven on the Land, Seven in the Sea
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Hello children here’s the selkie angst you didn’t ask for.
...
“And yet, niece, you are subject to our laws, as a being of the same nature with ourselves; and should HE prove unfaithful to you and marry again, you are obliged to take away his life.”
- Undine
...
“Oh Jojo! Yes! Yes I will marry you!”
Your hands, clammy and pruned, began to tremble. You released your fist and gripped weakly at the door frame, legs like gelatin when you heard a cacophony of giggles, and saw a man lift a woman with hair the color of golden beach sand into his arms for a kiss. The barking laughter of the elders echoing in your mind, stomach frothing with nervous bile.
Remember the laws of our people little pup: he belonged to you the minute the child was placed inside your tender womb by his essence. He cannot belong to another, and if he tries... he is condemned to die by your hand.
No... no... this cannot be happening... Why couldn’t your husband just wait for you to explain?! You turned away from the path, blocking the way to the door, turning and seeing a very familiar pair of watery blue eyes searching for the answer in your tear streaked face. Your little boy, your son Giorno, was still holding out the large jet black pelt you’d found. The picture of innocence. Blue black hair pressed wetly to his forehead as he obediently waited. A good boy, in every sense of the word. He didn’t understand human words, he was seven years a seal and a mere few minutes a human. You meant to show him as a surprise. Instructed your little boy to hold out his father’s new pelt and wait for him to come to the door when you knocked. He was then to say his first word, a call of his father’s name. At first the sight made you coo in delight, now it only made you wish to die. It was supposed to be a happy moment. A moment that would inspire joy once you knocked at the cabin door and the fisherman’s son Jonathan Joestar would open it to reveal his half selkie son holding out a seal pelt just his size, that he might join you both in the sea forever.
Oh! You can try to deny the jealousy. ‘Twill be a bitter poison to swallow that will consume your every waking moment. But the lust for blood will consume you, eat away at the heart that was once cradled in the palm of his hand, and you will inevitably partake in the ancient right to carnage. Serves you right for cavorting about with a human. Doesn’t it make you wish now that you’d have taken the harp seal as your husband? Dio would have made a devoted father to little Giorno. You know, once your human mate is dead you are allowed to take another in his stead.
You remembered your words... How proudly you lifted your chin and dared to look into the eyes of the elder selkie.
I’d rather die.
Yes. You’d rather be dead. Rather have stayed on land and let the dryness kill you and the baby than have to look through the salt stained windows of the cabin and see your husband’s lips locked with another, grudgingly you admitted his new choice was pretty. Beach sand hair, eyes as blue as the sea... Certainly not the stormy eyes of a seal woman that were shrouded as though in a dense fog. While it never bothered you before, you suddenly felt the chill of the sea wind creep into your bones, bare toes curling into the mud of the path as you took a stumbling step away. Your son barked, it was all he knew how to do, and you frightened him when you lunged forward on the path to cover his mouth, scraping the sensitive skin of your legs when you scooped him up into your arms.
Giorno barked at you once again when you waded out to the beach in a hurry, not paying any mind to the blood trickling down your legs. You understood him perfectly, it was a bark that meant he wanted his papa’s attention. You made a snuffing sound with your nose as you buried your face in his little neck, a sound meant for seal mothers to reassure their little ones. But he didn’t want his mother. He wanted his father and tried to open his mouth to call his name like you taught him, quickly silenced with the words gurgling in his throat as you dove into the cold gray sea.
No... no... Jonathan... dear Jonathan... why couldn’t he wait for you?? Why couldn’t he have stayed steadfast and faithful, understanding the message of the pearls and shells you’d left in place of the letter you didn’t know how to write. You didn’t know any way to let him know. It wasn’t possible for a selkie to live more than a few days on land. You were able to stay a little longer, because Jonathan had accidentally caught your pelt in his nets. By the laws you were bound to him as husband and wife. Whosoever took your pelt and returned it was by tradition proposing marriage. And because he was so sincere, so kind, you accepted. Happy as a clam to have been fortunate to be taken in the arms of such a handsome specimen of manhood.
“If you are my wife now... then this must be our wedding night.”
He’d told you this on a night similar to the one you returned on. It was just as the sun was setting. The cold wind from the sea blew in, his fire roaring and a cast iron pot of simmering fish stew bubbled in the fire. You’d been waiting patiently to be fed, your pelt wrapped loosely around yourself, unaware of how bewitching you looked when the spotted pelt slid down to expose your soft shoulders.
“Yes. I suppose it is.”
“Tell me, little selkie, do you know what happens on a wedding night?”
You did not know, but oh did you find out. You found out the consequences of such a night too, when your stomach began to balloon out even though you couldn’t keep down your fish anymore. Jonathan was too busy to notice. A fisherman’s life was hard, with him being at sea for weeks at a time and returning dead tired with barely enough food to feed the two of you. You tried to tell him yourself that you were dying. You just needed some time to return back to the sea, a seven year rest in the water and a seven year search for a pelt that he might come to your world without drowning trying to join you and the baby. If you continued living on land, you’d lose the child and your life, leaving the poor man a lonely widow without even a body to mourn. From sea foam you came, to sea foam you’d return if you kept up the facade of being a human for too long.
As you pulled both yourself and baby further down into the murky water, you tried to ignore the sounds of a creature swimming rapidly towards you. Pretending not to see the locks of gold and that damned gloating smile, you pressed Giorno closer to your chest and made into the shape of a torpedo, jettisoning yourself out of reach of the sea and landing with an undignified ‘plop’ on the hard pebbles of the beach. Your son sputtered, coughing sea water and choking because of the abrupt transition from breathing air to breathing water.
“You damnable tease!” Croaked a voice out of breath. “I’m only trying to help you-...”
“Go away Dio!” You growled a warning, lips pulling back over your sharp teeth. “This doesn’t concern you!”
“Of course it does! Am I not the fiercest hunter?! Did I not escort you here to protect you from sharks? In a few minutes you might have had another escort instead of me. Clumsy bitch, you’re bleeding!”
He heaved himself onto land, hissing at the pain of the pebbles pressing into his sensitive skin and hardly experienced enough to walk as he dragged himself towards you with an outstretched hand. You stood on wobbling legs and stepped out of reach, backing away as fast as the love struck selkie male could crawl towards you, his legs still clumsily pressed together because he never fully grasped the concept of his human half.
“He didn’t stay faithful did he?!” Dio laughed, between hissing at the pain of the dry land and hurling insults at you. “He’s going to marry that simpering wench and you’ll have to kill him on his wedding night, in your marriage bed that he defiled with another!”
“Go away!”
“You’ll be left a disgraced widow. Your poor son more of a bastard than he already is!”
“Begone!”
“You know I speak the truth! I was told to bring you the knife to carry out the deed. Take it you fool, take it and free yourself! Save what little dignity you have left and exercise your ancient right to revenge!”
He tossed the offending object towards your feet. The ceremonial knife. A razor clam honed to a fine edge and used by multitudes of heartbroken selkies to free themselves from their earthly bonds. It made you pause, seeing it lay there innocently while Giorno stared wide eyed at Dio. You looked at the child in your arms, and then once more to the razor clam. A feeling... insatiable lust... a hunger for the blood of your son’s father filled your heart, skipping a beat when you saw some of the blood from your knees dribble down onto the blade.
Temptation.
Pure, unadulterated temptation.
The same temptation he might have felt when he committed the sin of taking another...
Kicking sand in your wake, you carried Giorno far away, as far as your weak legs could carry the both of you. They didn’t get you far. Just far enough into the forest that you couldn’t hear Dio’s screams of your name, but you could still see the smoke curling from Jonathan’s chimney and smell the fish he was cooking as a meal to celebrate his betrothal. You couldn’t cry. Selkies cannot cry tears, only making you suffer all the more as your heartbreak had no where else to go but to sink deeper into the pit of your stomach. Giorno had long since stopped choking, opting now to whine weakly into your arms, unused to being on dry land for such a long period of time. You tried your best to rock him back and forth in your arms, mimicking the gentle motions of the waves in an attempt to soothe him.
But it was all for naught. There was nothing you could do to console him. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t give the black pelt he still held to his papa. Didn’t understand why you didn’t produce his father after seven years of singing him songs in your seal voice about the handsome young man that would net hoards of fish for him to eat, then cradle him in his strong arms and shower him with the affection he longed for. You knew even though he didn’t understand things as a human, Giorno wasn’t stupid. He saw the members of his pod paired and taking care of young, wondering why he had no papa to clean his whiskers after his meals or to teach him to catch slippery silver fish in his jaws. Giorno was instead fed on mother’s milk and stories of a papa that walked on two legs, a papa that couldn’t swim very well in frothing waters and that had promised a vow of everlasting love to his mother.
“P-papa!” His first words were raspy, his throat parched from breathing in too much dry air. “Papa!”
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akria23 · 5 years
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Okay so Tandy x Tyrone x Evita and my issues with it this season.
It seems like some people like where they took the trio this season. I, however, do not exactly feel the same. Let me start off by saying that I watch everything I watch because it fits the romance genre in some way shape or form. I also do not ship Tyrone and Evita - and while I’m always up for a trio ship I never double ship (one character in two separate relationships). So this season - def the first half was difficult for me to get through on so many levels. There was an extreme lack of romance for any ship! I don’t know how they’re getting away with it as far as the fandom, but I personally am not a fan of the antics.
Let me start with Tyrone and Tandy - their bond is the same as last season. They are two people bonded in their fight for justice. They speak on how important they are for each other, they fight for each other, etc etc...everything we got in season one but more so. It’s great except I wanted more this season and I don’t mean a relationship. On some levels I feel like I’m getting paid lip service this season instead of them delving into this relationship. While Tandy and Tyrone has their moments of disagreements I don’t feel as though they were truly tested or did anything to show another side, level, or perspective to this friendship despite having the perfect villain to bring that forth. I felt like as an audience I experienced the exact same things I And the characters themselves already knew about the relationship and the two people within it. This is one of the reason I wish this was season’s 3 plot line because I’ve always felt like the writers speak more than ‘show’ def when it comes to Tandy’s and Tyrone’s. Because of this there feels like there is a lack of tension (and when I say tension I don’t mean conflict) between the characters themselves and between myself and the show. In a long haul or a slow burn set up you have to have tension, the friction that comes from the will they - won’t they aspect that keeps us residing on the edge our seat when two people who are meant to be but aren’t together are on the screen. The bit they did have this season felt glazed over with the fact that the writers were beating us over the head with this ‘they’re just friends’ concept they were literally pushing this season. They made sure at ever turn to present us with the fact that Tyrone is genuinely in love with Evita and everyone, most of all Tandy, is okay with that. Present, future, or imagine dream world she ships Evita and Tyrone so much that I thought I was gonna puke rainbows of her support. That’s not to say I want Tandy to be foaming at the mouth with jealously, or that I want I want her to be jealous at all but I find myself seriously triggered by shows that make sure we see how understanding and perfectly fine the female friend is with the male and his partner because that’s a obvious presentation that you’re not getting you ship (examples are shows like the 100). I did question why they got Evita and Tyrone together at all - because to for her in the group that was not needed, but I find I did not get that answer this season either.
Although Evita and Tyrone is still the canon ship - other than the crazy ish they did with Evita you sure wouldn’t know it because they didn’t have much couple development...I’m unsure of what we should call what they did have this season. So even while they were beating us over the head with the Tyrone and Evita they were also setting her up for a young girl married storyline. I know some people are happy about this...and I’m particularly not. This is another reason I really wish they had pushed for a season 3 storyline with this. I said last season that I felt that they could write themselves into a corner with this Evita and Tyrone thing because they need her in the crew but if they don’t intend to write the relationship full stop through the show then they also have the responsibility of ending it and they’d have to end it without Tandy their lead looking bad.
This biggest issue I have with this new conflict or set up of having Evita marry to step into her role. Despite her own dreams and wish they have her step into this role not because she discovers its what she really wants to do, not because she finds that she likes working with these people but instead to save Tyrone...Tyrone who had basically already been saved by Tandy. Tyrone who the audience think is destined to be written into a relationship with Tandy. They could’ve written her stepping into herself in a way that had nothing to do with Tyrone. I also don’t prefer this route to create the ending of their relationship. Just as they got together on their own I’d like them to choose to separate due to their own desires.
They brought Tandy’s ex back but not in the compassity in which I thought they would and I’m really happy about that (although he could be do to return again - 😷 I hope not). She really just don’t care about ol dude. She bailed him out to steal his hope 👀 - we are never ever ever getting back together.
I’ll talk about why I wish this was season 3 and why I don’t want the villain to be done in - in another post. I’ll wait to do my season review and what I did like after I see the finale.
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awhitehead17 · 6 years
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Tiny Tim (part ten)
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten
Chapter Summary: Disney World part two 
Also on AO3
Enjoy! :D
Tim scribbles messily on the piece of paper in front of him. The café they were at offers free colouring sheets and crayons to kids and Kon being Kon decides to get some for Tim. Tim bets it was mainly just for himself because at the moment Kon looks like he’s having a lot more fun with the colouring than he is.
“You know you’re supposed to colour in the lines right Tim?” Conner comments to him when he looks up from his own paper.
Just to spite him Tim grabs another crayon and scribbles wildly over the paper. Once he was done he looks back up at Kon and gives him an innocent looking smile, “Whoops.”
Kon gives him a look, one that says really? and in retaliation Tim sticks his tongue out at him and looks back at his bit of paper. They’ve been sat at the café for a good 10 minutes already and it’s another 5 before someone shows up.
“Conner!”
Both him and Kon turn around to the name call, they find Jon heading their way while dragging Damian behind him. Conner smiles at him once he reaches the table, “Hey kid, how’s your day been so far?”
“Look!” Jon shoves a Superman plushie in Kon’s face, “I won this!”
Kon shoves it out of his face, “Yeah? Did you cheat?”
Jon pouts at him, “No I did not! Damian, tell him I didn’t cheat.”
“Tt, despite what it looked like and what he is capable doing, Kent did not cheat.”
“Thank you, see Conner.” Jon says wearing a smug smile.
Kon smiles and shakes his head, “Whatever kid. What else you been up to?”
Jon’s normal excited grin appears back on his face and he enthusiastically tells Kon about his and Damian’s day. Tim was listening but he moves his attention away from the two supers when he feels a presence stand next to him. He looks up to find Damian looking at his ‘colouring’.
“Drake do you not know how to colour? You keep inside the lines, it is not that hard of a concept to grasp, but then again a simple-minded creature like you would find that hard to understand.” Damian says to him, voice full of disgust.
Tim narrows his eyes up at Damian, god he wishes he was his normal self again just so he can beat him. But no. He was stuck in this four-year-old body and they happen to be out somewhere that was full of random people, it would look and sound weird if a four-year-old started cursing at a teen and calling him all kinds of vulgar names.
Working to keep himself from saying anything Tim settles for glaring at Damian. Of course Damian is undeterred by his look, the teenager simply glares back and it suddenly becomes a glaring contest between them. Tim’s not willing to let the demon spawn beat him, Tim may not be able to fight back physically but at least he can glare to some extent.
He’s unsure how long they spend looking at each other but much to his annoyance Tim brakes eye contact first and that was only because someone jabbed his ribs. He couldn’t help the yelp that escaped his mouth and the sudden jerk of his body. He looks around to find Jason smirking evilly at him. “Jumpy there Timmy?”
“Don’t jab my ribs.” He pouts back at the man. Next to him Damian tuts and walks away, Tim watches him go and as he sits down next to Jon who was now sat on Kon’s other side. Jason also moves and takes a seat on Tim’s unoccupied side. Tim watches as Jason takes in his colouring, an eyebrow goes up on his face and his mouth opens to say something, however he seems to change his mind because he shakes his head and closes his mouth again.
“Come on daddy!”
Tim turns around to find Lian running towards their table. She stops every few feet to make sure that Roy was following behind her. Tim looks at Roy and does a double take, in his arms there’s a very big teddy bear. A huge fluffy brown bear with a red bow tie around his neck. Tim’s pretty sure that it was bigger than him in size and possibly even in weight.
Eventually they get to the table and Lian starts jumping up and down, “Look what we won! Look what we won!”
“Wow.” Kon says looking at the bear with wide eyes as Roy sits it at the table opposite him.
Next to him Jon gasps, “That’s huge! Where did you get it?”
Roy looks at him and smirks, “A shooting game. There was two targets, one side had a little crossbow and the other had a gun, so naturally….”
“Fair enough.” Kon comments still looking at the bear.
“Daddy, can I go play in the play area?” Lian asks looking hopeful from where she was tugging on his t-shirt.
Roy frowns at her before looking around, he finds the children’s soft play area over in the corner of the café and looks back at his daughter, “You can but after you’ve had something eat.”
Lian looks like she wants to argue but a stern look from Roy changes her mind, she nods, “Okay daddy.” She climbs up onto the seats next him and looks around the room with intense curiosity.
Roy leans forward and grabs a menu from the middle of the table and sets it out in front of him, Jon does the same with the second menu and opens it up for him and Damian to look at. He and Kon have already decided what they’ll be having, they decided on it while they waited for the others to arrive.
“Hey, where’s Goldie to?” Jason asks suddenly, he looks at Jon and Damian, “Wasn’t he with you brats?”
“Tim and I saw him in a performing in a parade on the way here, I have to admit I’m curious about how he got there.” Kon says, looking between Jason and his brother.
Jason lets out a snort, “Seriously? A performing in a parade? Typical.”
“Well about two hours ago the three of us bumped into some acrobats who were trying to perfect a move. Dick saw them and offered some help, he showed them how to do it and they offered him a place in the parade because they realised who he was.” Jon explains. “At first he said no because he was with us but then Damian told him to go because it was clear that he wanted to do it but I think that the real reason is so Dick would leave us alone to do whatever we wanted without an adult.”
Silence surrounds the table as they all look at Jon who blushes once he sees everyone looking at him.
“What? It’s true” He says defensively.
Conner frowns at him, “So you’ve spent the last two hours on your own?”
“We do not need a baby sitter clone, we are perfectly capable of looking after ourselves.” 
Kon rolls his eyes but lets the comment go. From there Tim ignores the small talk that’s going on around the table, instead he focuses on the paper in front of him while trying to ignore the hurt feeling inside of himself. Dick said that they’ll spend the afternoon together but now that he’s with the parade that’s obviously out of the window. It hurts to know that Dick had apparently forgot about his promise.
“Well I’m not waiting for him to show up, I’m hungry so I’m getting food.” Jason declares standing up from the table, “Join me or not, I don’t care.”
He starts to walk towards the counter where the orders are being taken, Roy gets up and follows him, once they get back Kon, Jon and Damian all get up and do their orders. When they return small talk takes over the table once again and is that way until the food arrives.
Half an hour later all the food they had ordered has now disappeared. Tim enjoyed his food, it was a child’s portion of fries and chicken nuggets in shape of Mickey Mouse. It wasn’t a big meal but it filled him up. What he didn’t enjoy was that Dick still hasn’t shown up and there was no signs of him showing up at all. Kon had tried to console him but Tim brushed him off, he doesn’t really want to hear it.
Tim’s brought out of his head when he hears Lian impatiently ask, “Daddy can I go now? Pleeeeeeaaaasssseeeee.”
Roy puts a thoughtful expression on and takes his time in answering, with every second that passes of him not answering Lian looks like she’s going to explode. After about 10 long seconds he finally nods, “Sure, go ahead, but be careful!”
“Yay!” She exclaims. She immediately starts to climb down from the table, however instead of heading for the children’s play area she runs around the table and grabs Tim’s t-shirt, “Come on Timmy, let’s go play!”
Tim almost falls off the seat he’s on because of her tugging and he has to steady himself by grabbing the table, he looks at her hopeful face and feels slightly guilty when he says, “Uh, I don’t really want to…”
Her face falls in disappointment, “What?”
Tim opens his mouth to say he doesn’t want to play but Jason speaks before he can, “He’s only joking, of course he wants to play!” That’s when hands appear under his arms and pick him up from the seat, they place him on the floor next to Lian, they also remove the cap that’s been sat on his all of this time, “Now you two go have fun okay, we’ll be here for when you want to come back out.”
Tim sends him a betrayed looked while Lian sends him a bright grin, “Thank you Uncle Jay, let’s go Timmy!”
She grabs his hand and drags him towards the play area when they get there Lian lets him go and starts climbing up the foam steps, “Come on! I think the slide is this way!”
Tim watches her disappear up the stairs, he looks back at the table where everyone is to find most of them staring at him with different kinds of smiles on their faces. Jason was wearing an evil smirk and was even holding up his phone with the camera faced at him, Roy was wearing an amused one and Kon was wearing a fond one. Jon and Damian wasn’t looking, both more interested in whatever was in front of them on the table.
“Come on Tim!” He hears from above. He sighs and resigns himself, he isn’t getting out of this,  begrudgingly he starts to climb the foam stairs to find where Lian had disappeared to.
30 minutes later Tim was ready to quit. He was tired and wanted to sit down. How did Lian still have so much energy? She was still running around the play area, shouting at Tim to hurry up and even dragging him along. Tim tried to go at her pace but it was hard, this body was not used to pushing itself past it’s limit and now he was super tired and surprisingly wants a nap.
Letting Lian go on ahead up the foam stairs he heads back to the table where the others are. He walks slowly now finding his feet are beginning to hurt. He makes it back to the table and stands behind Kon before leaning against his lower back. Kon jumps slightly from the touch, he turns around to find Tim there and smiles at him, “You okay?”
“How does she have that much energy? She’s like a battery or something.” Tim comments.
Kon laughs at him, “She worn you out has she?”
“Yes.”
That’s when Lian appears once again, “Timmy why did you leave? We still have yet to go in the ball pool.” She whines at him, she leans forward and grabs his hand and starts to pull him away from Kon, “Come on!”
Someone takes pity on Tim and speaks up, “Hey munchkin, why don’t you and I go play in the ball pool. Timmy here needs a rest, you’ve worn him all out.”
Lian let’s go of Tim and turns to Jason, “Yes please, let’s go Uncle Jay.”
Jason gets up and starts to follow Lian towards the children’s play area, but when he gets a few steps away from the table he stops in his tracks and turns back facing the table. After a few seconds he’s moving towards the table, he goes around it until he’s behind Damian and in a quick swift movement he has the teen up and over his shoulder like he’s a sack of potatoes.
“Todd! Put me down this instance!” Damian demands trying to wiggle out of Jason’s grip as the man heads for the children’s play area.
“Come on demon, you could use some fun.”
They hear Lian giggling her head off at the display and even Jon let out a laugh in amusement. Jon gets up from the table and follows them into the play area. Once they have all disappeared from view Tim tugs at Kon’s t-shirt to get his attention again, when the meta looks down Tim raises his arms up in a childlike fashion for Kon to pick him up. Kon’s hands wrap around his waist and lift him up, after a moment Tim’s arranged so his straddling Kon’s thighs and his head is against his chest.
Tim takes the position and leans heavily on Kon, the tiredness taking over his body. It doesn’t help when Kon starts threading his fingers through his hair and lightly massages his head. Tim sighs contently and lets him do it, he doesn’t know why but it feels so nice when it happens and he feels himself drifting off at his motions.
Tim snaps out of his dosing state when another voice speaks up, “Hey guys I am so sorry that I am super late. To be honest I wasn’t even sure if you’d be here at all or not but thankfully you are.”
Tim turns around to see Dick settling in a seat next to Roy, he was looking around obviously trying to find the where the others are. As if reading his mind Roy speaks up, “They’re in the ball pit if you’re wondering. Lian. Jason Damian and Jon.”
Dick smiles, “Ah okay.” Dick then looks over and sees Tim’s sat in Kon’s lap, “Didn’t fancy joining them Timmy?” He asks.
Tim hears, as well as feel, Kon laugh, “Lian’s already worn him out from playing in there for half an hour.”
Dick lets out a laugh after and Tim mumbles a shut up but that seems to encourage the man even more. “If you’ve still got the energy Tim I have a promise to keep, once I’ve had some food we’ll go on a few rides together.”
Tim feels himself smile at his words, he hadn’t forgot after all. Tim nods in agreement and Dick beams at him, “Brilliant! I’m going to get some food.”
By the time Dick had finished eating his food everyone else had returned from the ball pool. Comments were made and laughs were shared throughout it. For the most part Tim dosed on Conner as his body was still recovering from the time he spent running around after Lian.
“Anyway, what are we going to do now that Goldie is here?” Jason asks looking at everyone.
“Well I was going to go with Tim around the park for a bit, just the two of us as I promised him earlier we would.” Dick says.
Jon jumps in after him, “Conner can we go together and ride Space Mountain?”
Tim feels Kon shrug, “Sure, I don’t see why not.”
“Awesome let’s go!” Jon gets up from the table and starts bouncing excitedly.
Kon laughs, “Alright kid, calm down.” He gently picks Tim up and places him on the floor, he then crouches down so they’re nearly eye level, “You okay with me going?”
“Go have fun with your brother.” Tim smiles at him and Kon grins as he stands up. Once stood Jon was quick to grab his hand and start to pull him away. Tim walks around the table and stands next to Dick, who was already rising to his feet. Dick bends down and picks him up and places Tim on his hip.
“So we’ll catch you guys later, have fun!” Dick says as he walks away from the table.
Dick doesn’t put Tim down for a good 20 minutes. Tim doesn’t mind, it saves him walking around because he still feels tired even after his light nap on Kon from earlier. After walking around for a while they find a bench and settle down on it.
“So, how you doing Timmy?” Dick asks looking at him.
Tim swings his feet backwards and forwards from where they hand over the edge of the bench, “I’m okay.” He answers.
Dick smiles at him, “Yeah? I guess that’s good then. How’s Conner dealing with this situation?”
“He’s trying,” Tim tells him, “I think me being this age has made him realise that he wants kids. A few times I’ve caught him with this dreamy look on his face like he’s imaging the future or something, but he’s doing what he can.”
“Think he’s father material?” Dick asks looking amused.
“I think he is yeah, can’t say the same for myself however.”
Dick leans over and ruffles his hair, “Awww Timmy…” He coos out.
“Dick!” Tim exclaims and tries to bat the mans hands away, that just encourages Dick more. Tim finds himself getting dragged along the bench and pulled into Dick’s lap, before he could do anything Dick was running his fingers all over his sides and underneath his armpits and Tim couldn’t contain the squeal of laughter that bubbled up inside of him.
Once Dick was done tickling him, Tim was out of breath and his face was hurting from smiling so much. Dick stands up and picks him up. Placing Tim on his hip he says, “Come on, we’ll get a few rides in by the time the park closes. Oh by the way I love your shirt.”
Tim looks down at his shirt and sees the Wonder Woman pattern on it, “Yeah, Kon picked it up. It was either this or Superman.”
Dick barks out a laugh, “Brilliant, how the hell did he manage to get you in those? Do you have a batman one?” Tim chooses not to comment; however his silence gives Dick the answer he’s looking for. The man let’s out a gasp before laughing, “Oh you do! that’s brilliant! We’ll have to get you in that around the Manor at some point.”
“Shut up.” Tim pouts.
They walk around until Dick comes up to a ride, Tim looks up at Dick with a questioning look, “The carousel?”
Dick looks at him wide eyed, “Yes the carousel, it’ll be fun.”
Dick moves over to where the queue was supposed to be but fortunately it was empty and they managed to get straight onto the ride. They walk around the ride and Dick chooses them a horse to sit on, he picks up Tim and places him on the horses back, then he’s lifting himself up onto it right behind him. Tim feels Dick getting in close and he leans back into the man’s chest, Dick’s arms come up and grab the pole in front of them and effectively boxes Tim in so he can’t fall off.
Soon enough the ride starts up and cheerful music begins to play in the background. Slowly, their horse goes up and down and the ride starts to spin around, after a few times around it begins to pick up speed on the spinning.
It’s not the most exciting ride he’s been on but when he looks up at Dick and sees a huge smile on his brother’s face, Tim couldn’t help but smile too. After that the ride was a lot lighter and Tim enjoyed it a little more. It ends after 3 minutes or so, the horses stop moving and the spinning slows down to a halt. Once given the all clear Dick get’s off the horse first and then helps Tim off it and they make their way to the exit.
As they walk in another direction Dick says, “I love those rides, they always remind me of Haley’s, you know, the horses, the bright colours and cheerful music.”
Tim looks up at Dick and sends him a smile, no wonder he wanted to go on it then. Dick looks down and then squints at Tim. When he doesn’t look away Tim begins to feel uncomfortable under his gaze, “Dick?”
Dick draws back, “Sorry, but I’ve just realised that you would have been this height when you came to Hayley’s. You really are small.”
Tim pouts at the last comment, “Thanks, and yeah more or less, but remember you weren’t that tall when you were in Hayley’s either.”
Dick lets out a laugh and shrugs, “I’m okay with that,” He reaches down and grabs Tim’s hand, “Now come on, there’s another ride I want to take you on.”
Tim let’s Dick drag him along, though he has to take twice as many steps as the man because of his tiny legs making it difficult to keep up. By the time they get to the ride Dick wants to go on Tim’s all worn out again, he curses his current body for not having enough stamina. Looking at where they are Tim sees elephant shaped planes going around in circles.
Dick leads him through the entrance and over to where the line is. They don’t have to wait long as the ride that was going on comes to a stop. Once all the people have left they were allowed on, Dick leads him around the ride and goes to an empty elephant. Like with the carousal, Dick picks him up and places him in the elephant and then gets in himself. They strap up and wait for the ride to start.
A few minutes later the ride starts and Tim instantly sees people shoot up into the air, unexpectantly at that point the elephant they’re in goes shooting upwards and Tim lets out a yelp at the sudden movement. Next to him Dick was laughing. “Not funny.” Tim tells him.
That’s how most of the ride went, with Dick randomly changing their height. Tim won’t lie and say that it didn’t give him a bit of a thrill but it was just as annoying. He went from watching everything around him to watching Dick’s hand on the small lever that controlled their height, in the end he pushed Dick’s hand off it and took control of it himself.
Eventually the ride slows down and comes to a stop and Dick and Tim exit it. They walk out and head in a random direction, that’s when a cheerful tune rings out of Dick’s pocket. They stop walking and Dick brings out his phone and answers it.
A few moments later Dick’s hanging up and grinning down at Tim, “Right Baby Bird, apparently Lian is now out for the count, the day’s finally caught up on her and I’m willing to bet that you won’t be far behind either. We’ve arranged for everyone to meet at the entrance so we can get going, we’ve got one more night in the hotel then first thing tomorrow we head back for the Manor.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Tim says looking up at him.
“Glad you approve,” Dick smiles back.
Before Dick could walk off Tim lifts his arms up in the ‘pick me up’ fashion. Dick watches him with an amused expression before rolling his eyes and bending down to pick him up. He places Tim on his hip and Tim leans his head on Dick’s shoulder as the man begins to walk in the direction of the entrance.
“Thanks for keeping your promise,” Tim mumbles to him, once again he feels the tiredness taking over him.
Tim feels a hand come up to his head and as it starts to stroke his hair, “Of course Timmy, sorry I was late.”
“That’s okay.”
He has no idea how long it had been but suddenly he finds that they’ve made it to the entrance where everyone was already waiting. Jon was excitedly talking to Kon, Roy and Jason, Lian was fast asleep in Roy’s arms, Jason was holding the giant teddy bear in his arms and was wearing the Green Lantern cap that Kon had brought earlier on and Damian stood just to the side not interacting with anyone.
They reach the group and Dick bends down to place Tim on the floor, which Tim wasn’t pleased about but he uses the opportunity to walk over to Kon. He finds the meta standing there smiling at him as he approaches, “Hey, have fun?”
“I did, did you?” Tim asks back. When Kon nods he finally sees the bag that he’s holding. Pointing to it he asks, “What’s that?”
“Oh, I went back to that superhero shop that we went into and brought a few things.”
Tim rolls his eyes at that, god knows what Kon has brought.
“Right shall we get going?” Dick calls out to the group. Everyone then started to pile out of the entrance. They make their way back to the hotel and then all separate according to where their rooms are located. They made arrangements to meet early in the morning hence why they’ve called it an early night.
Tim doesn’t really pay attention to anything. The walk from the park to the hotel Kon had been carrying him, then once inside the hotel room he allowed Kon to get him ready as he didn’t really have the energy to do himself. Soon enough he found himself curled up under the covers on the bed of their room in his pyjamas and just about ready to fall asleep. He doesn’t submit to sleep until Kon was in the bed with him, once he was Tim curls into Kon’s side and soaks up the heat coming off him and then he allows himself to finally go to sleep.
Everything in the morning was a blur, from packing their things to traveling to the airport to then getting on the jet and flying home. The travel takes up most of the morning and they end up having breakfast on the plane. They spend most of their time sharing different stories of the previous day and having a laugh about what gag gifts they’ve each brought for people.
Once they were in Gotham it was then traveling from the airport and back to the Manor and by mid-afternoon they finally make it back to the Manor.
Dick’s the first one up the steps, getting the keys he opens the door and heads in first. Everyone else follows him, they pile in the hallway and dump all of their things on the floor. From where he was standing Dick stretches, “Home sweet home,” he comments.
“Indeed, home sweet home.” A new voice speaks out.
Everyone shares a wide-eyed look before looking in the direction to where the voice came from. Standing there in an expensive suit with hands in his pockets was the famous Bruce Wayne.
“Care to tell me what’s going on?”
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likesugarandcyanide · 6 years
Text
Invincible [Chapter 7] Persona [Katsuki Bakugou]
Chapter 6: It Only Hurts
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How can he expect me to accept that our friendship is over? Izuku is unpretentiously clever and manipulative – I will admit. He had me fooled from the start. But now, I see all the signs; somehow I had missed them along the way, at some point in our earlier years. He seems to have used my kindness to his advantage, protecting himself from his own dishonesties. This is the only way for me to cope – blame. I have to believe that Izuku is toxic; that he’s enjoying this betrayal. But for what reason?
I have no reason to believe this. I just need to, making up stories in my spare time. I tell myself that Izuku is not really quirkless, nor has he ever been. He restrains his quirk; a resilient power that he wants to spit into the face of those beneath him. Izuku had lied to me, wanting my pity. It spirals from there and becomes my fault. I am still inspired by his determination, but I am not a good friend. I should have been on his side. Maybe then, he would have told me about his quirk and the reason he hides it. For now, I chose to blame him. Izuku ends our trust on a lie, and more importantly, he drives a bigger wedge into the nearly nonexistent bond with Katsuki.
I pity him, or so I claim. Honestly, I want to be angry with Izuku, but I feel like there’s more to this. There’s a reason for the lies; so many questions that need answers. I’m content with his new life, but I don’t want to be. I’m so jealous of the two Izuku chooses as friends – Iida and the bubbly Uraraka. I see them break down his walls and inspire him to try harder; something I’m not able to accomplish. I absolutely hate it.
Anger courses through me. I curl my fingers into a tight fist. Then in seconds the whole length of my right hand burns in a minor ache. Recognizing that the pain is not self-inflicted I squeak in frustration, releasing my nails. The blonde on the seat beside me yanks his hand from mine and shoots me a glare.
“Watch where you’re digging those fucking talons,” he hisses.
I nervously give an apology and rub over the red, crescent-shaped marks on his skin. “Want me to kiss it and make it feel better?” He ignores me, but I know he doesn’t mind either way.
A gentle smile pulls at the corner of my lips as I happily smooth the pads of my fingers across his rough skin. Katsuki continues to eat his lunch and leaves me to my own devices. I quickly find that my appetite is gone. The plate of skewered meat and vegetables I like so much is barely eaten on. It seems that no matter how hard I try, I can’t put my anger to rest. I need to find ways to help me forget. However, the wound is still very fresh.
“General studies are fun,” I mention, wanting to start up a conversation. “I’m learning more than I ever did in Orudera.”
Katsuki snorts in disagreement. “I’m bored as hell with them. I never expected the hero course to be so dull.”
I understand where this is coming from. Katsuki enjoys to prove himself. He craves action; combat to show off his quirk. But it’s only the first day. Classes recap the things we already know, but the hero course is about training ourselves to become great heroes. The blonde seems to believe winning is the only fundamental, but it’s not. I will admit that mastering my quirk sounds fun, but I seem to have more patience in the matter of brains-before-brawn – he has both, but expecting to become a pro with only his ability is what he seems to hope for.
“Our afternoon class should be proactive – fundamental hero studies. I bet the teacher will have us doing something with our quirks.”
“I may just blow off someone’s damn head if they have us doing something normal again,” Katsuki grunts.
I gently laugh. “So long as it’s not me.”
Katsuki glares at me. It’s like I make him angry by just opening my mouth. I don’t like the uneasy feeling he gives me, staring at me with those deep red eyes, almost like he reads my every thought.
“The hell is wrong with you?”
My face suddenly goes warm. “What do you mean? I’m fine – really. Why would you ask me that?”
“That’s what I mean, fuck-munch. You’re fine, you say. Bullshit! You were a sobbing mess yesterday because of Deku, and now you’re chatting my damn ear off like nothing ever happened,” the blonde snaps.
“I’m trying to follow your advice,” I admit sadly. “Izu – Midoriya doesn’t need me as a friend. I accept this, but I’m not happy about it. After so many years of knowing him, it’s hard to ignore the fact that I have to see him every day from now on.” My heart feels heavy at this, but it’s the truth. It’s not easy to forget someone, but it’s also not impossible either. It will take time, and it will take support. “Trust me, please.”
Katsuki swats me on the head. “I do, idiot. Now let me sit here in peace.”
I smile softly. “Only if you let me have a bite of your lunch.”
He agrees, sliding down a bowl of steaming miso ramen to me. The hard-boiled egg and all of the chicken is gone, but the noodles remain. I decide to eat with my chopsticks since Katsuki may complain about sharing with me. Taking in a large bite, I instantly regret this. It’s spicy – way too hot to be considered food.
“You knew and you didn’t warn me,” I cry with my mouth full. My stomach feels like it’s burning.
“Don’t like it, don’t eat it,” Katsuki says simply.
I cover my mouth and jump to my feet. First the bathroom, then to buy a bowl of rice. If I’m lucky Katsuki will choke on the broth before I get back. Honestly, how could I forget that he likes his food super-hot. This is the reason that I stopped taking his lunch back in middle school. Damn the blonde, and damn his devious persona.
Tears fill my eyes. “So hot. So very hot.”
He’s here – All Might. I bite my lip in excitement, seeing him once again. The memory in which he saved me is still fresh in my mind. He told me that he’d never allow another villain to hurt my friends, and even though Izuku and I are no longer close, I truly value his words. I am so happy to see All Might in person again. He’s much more spirited than I remember, but I enjoy his silly antics.
After the room settles down enough, All Might announces our first trial; battle. He flashes the card in front of the class and the room erupts in hysteric muttering. I sit quietly behind the girl with the large, spiky ponytail and mull over this recent happening. What will the class be fighting? Robots possibly, or maybe even one another. I chance a glance at Izuku to my right. Since the class is at an odd number, Aizawa had us move the seats into 7 columns; 3 to each roll. Ironically, I am seated next to Izuki, who at the moment appears shocked by the trial that All Might briefly touches on.
“– and to go with your first battle,” the bulky man announces. A roll of panels begins to slide out from the wall. “We’ve prepared the gear we had you send in requests for to match your quirks.”
The room again goes into hysterics. I smile in anticipation of what my costume will look like. I remember being vague about my design on the costume request form. I make mention that my quirk is thought to be a form of telekinesis, however, I am only able to control water, not make it. I note that I need plenty of containers to hold the fluid, and that after a long-drawn-out use I get headaches. The design is up in the air, but I hope the Subsidy did the costume justice.
All Might dismisses us with instructions to get changed and meet at Ground Beta. I quickly grab my case from the panel and rush to the girl’s locker room to get dressed. I locate my locker and swing it open, ignoring the other girls as they rush in and do the same. Once my case is open, I shift around the contents and move them all out onto the bench. A note is inside with my uniform. It explains the basics of my costume, like urging me to wear a polyester rash guard and bottoms beneath my outerwear to avoid chaffing. I happily do so, then slide what appears to be a wetsuit made of foamed neoprene over it. The suit is unfortunately skin-tight, but the instructions make mention that this is so the polar lining fabric beneath the interior will reflect my body heat and keep water out of my costume.
The get-up is for the most part black, but a number of broad aquamarine stripes extend over the body. I work with the belt to keep it tight around my waist, and mount the 1 gallon cork bottles into the holders. The last item on the bench is a stylish coral headband with a seashell attached to it. I don’t question the importance of it, nor do I flick through the instructions on how to use it. I’m already taking up time, so I pull my hair into a ponytail and tie the headband at the joint of my forehead and scalp. It’s tight, but feels sort of like it belongs.
Now that everything is in place, I hang up my uniform in the locker and hurry down to Ground Beta. I join with the group and stand close to Denki as he seems like a reasonable person to be around. In the meantime, I’m able to size-up the others – their costumes are all very colorful and interesting. I casually talk with Denki until All Might calls the remaining students into position. Katsuki is among them, a literal walking time bomb. I politely excuse myself and walk over to him.
His deep, red eyes narrow as I stand in front of him. “The hell did you ask for?”
“I didn’t specify exactly what I wanted. Only that I need more water in reserve,” I meekly admit. “But I like it. The design is simple, and the suit is more comfortable than it looks.”
Even as I say this, I feel like more attention could have been put into the proposal for my hero costume. I don’t favor complex things, so I don’t lie when I say that I like the concept of it. On the other hand, I really like the detail that Katsuki put into his own. It makes him appear intimidating and very flashy; something I imagine he wants. I think it makes him look tough.
“You look very handsome,” I add timidly, curling a lock of my hair around my finger. I want to say, like a hero, but honestly, the design is much like something a villain would wear, especially the giant grenade-like bracers on his arms.
Katsuki seems to ignore my compliment, and lifts his gloved fingers to my head. I feel deep pressure on the ornate band in my hair as he tinkers with the piece. I wonder if he knows how sweet this is to me?
“Cute, don’t you think?”
“At least you’re not a complete fucking idiot,” he grunts. His fingers continue to gently stroke the band. “As dumb as it looks, it’s not completely useless. The band is used to apply pressure to your head, so you don’t get headaches as easily while using your quirk. Not a stupid idea at least.”
I huff in annoyance. “Can’t you agree that I look nice for once?”
“Do you think you look nice?”
“I do.” Honestly, the nerve of him.
“Then you don’t have to ask,” the blonde grunts.
I am at a loss for words. He does seemingly care, even though he’s too embarrassed to admit it. I’m not an idiot; I notice the faint shade of red on his pale skin. I happily lean forward and kiss his cheek, much to his annoyance. The blonde orders me to knock it off and pulls me to his side. I notice he does this so he can see All Might a little better – not like he couldn’t before.
The bulky hero starts to explain the trial to us. Apparently, we’re not going to fight robots again, but each other. The class is expected to separate into villain and hero groups for a two-on-two team battle. A nuclear weapon will be hidden on one of the many floors inside the chosen building where All Might plans to have the exorcise – he explains this all to us while reading a crib sheet. The hero team must stop the villains, by either catching them with a special type of capture tape or securing the nuclear bomb. If the villains manage to capture the heroes or keep the core, they will win. All of this, he explains, will be done in a specific time period.
“Your teammates and opponents will be chosen by lottery,” he tells us, presenting a small rectangle box with a hole in the top. The word Lots is ironically written on the front.
I hear Tenya and Izuku converse over the meaning of the exorcise. It makes sense, but I’m not sure how this will work considering I am an extra to the group. One by one, each of the students draw lots as I watch. Before the massive hero continues I raise by hand.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I have no team. Should I sit out on this one?”
“No need, young Usui. You’re free to join with a team of two. Heroes are sometimes forced to join with teams of two or more, and most villains target on the weak in small groups.” All Might scans the crowd, enthusiastically shifting his head from side to side. “Here we go. You will join pair J and play the role of a villain. Nice suggestion.”
I feel happy that All Might compliments me on such a small thing. The group I’m with includes the nice, red-haired teen from the practical exam, and a tall male wearing a helmet reminiscent of a motorcycle helmet and a tape dispenser. I smile and wave at the boy in red as he motions me over. Katsuki is too occupied with his pairing to notice me leave his side. I nearly feel sorry for Tenya, who appears to be just as uncomfortable as the blonde.
All Might adds to the tension by announcing the first teams to do combat; A and D. Izuku and Ochaco verses Katsuki and Tenya. I gasp in shock. This won’t end well. All Might pulls the chosen hero and villain teams to the side, and instructs the rest of us to wait in the basement of the building he plans for us to use during the exorcise. I am in awe at the many monitors displayed in front of us. Each one shows the various angles of the same building, including the room the weapon is in. All Might joins with us soon after and the exam begins. My heart skips in my chest at the sudden irony. I know that Katsuki won’t make this easy on poor Izuku.
Quietly, the class watches Izuku and Ochaco enter the building. The pair makes full turns around the maze-like hallways – Izuku’s suggestion, I imagine. The teen is smart. Years of studying various heroes and strategies gives him an advantage over most. It will help him avoid Katsuki’s more hands-on approach since I know the blonde will just charge Izuku the first chance he gets. When he jumps the corner in front of the two and swings for Izuku I sigh in disappointment. He has talent, but his determination to prove a point to the timid boy will overshadow it in the end.
The blast manages to graze Izuku, tearing the fabric of his unique costume to the point that only half of his mask remains. Ochaco comes out unharmed, thanks to Izuku’s quick thinking. I am relieved, but at the same time I know this means disaster for Izuku if Katsuki manages to catch him. The blast zone of his quirk is hard to dodge. I cross my arms over my chest and chew at the inside of my jaw. What now?
“That Bakugou’s a character,” the teen with the red hair says. “An ambush is so unmanly.”
All Might adds in his opinion to the mix of varied responses. “Ambushes are good strategy. They are in the heat of battle after all.”
“That may be so, but Katsuki isn’t thinking strategy. He’s bent on proving a point to Izuku,” I add, more to myself than to the others.
The female with the spiky ponytail hears me, however. “Care to elaborate?”
The entire class seems to turn their attention to me, including All Might. My face warms at the sudden embarrassment. “Sorry, but it’s not my place to tell. Katsuki and Izuku just have a rough past is all. They’re old friends, but time made them bitter toward one another,” I explain.
The female with the pink skin laughs. “First name basis, huh? You must know them outside of class. Am I right?”
“Something like that,” I say. It’s too soon to tell the class about myself on a personal level. I just don’t feel comfortable sharing my life story with anyone new, not yet anyway. “The reason for the comment is because Katsuki thinks he has something to prove to Izuku. It makes the whole ambush seem wasted if Katsuki only used it just to hurt Izuku.”
All Might hums in agreement. “Very nice observation. A hero who acts only on his own arrogance is fated to act recklessly in combat.”
I regrettably can’t disagree with his statement. However, I am thrilled to watch as Izuku fights back. He uses Katsuki’s well-known punch against him and flips him roughly onto his back. This seems to be just the trick to keep Ochaco under the radar. Izuku makes himself the most important piece in game, ironically by angering the blonde even more. I overlook the chatter in the room and focus on the fight. This can go either way from this point on.
I’m surprised, however, to see Izuku nearly wrap the capture tape around Katsuki’s foot. I want to yell out for him to dodge, but I know he can’t hear me. Thankfully the blonde escapes. But so does Izuku. He runs from Katsuki, who quickly follows. In the meantime, Ochaco is seen on the monitor above, finding the bomb. I have to admit, she did well. She gives her position away, but that doesn’t seem to matter considering Tenya is too wrapped up in his character to mind. His posture is nearly identical to that of a villain. I’m sad I can’t hear him though – Ochaco seems to think he’s funny. I smile as I watch them on the screen, however something catches my eye. Katsuki corners Izuku at a dead end.
Katsuki lifts his arm and points the giant bracer at him. I can’t help but to wonder what he plans to do with it. Suddenly, All Might orders Katsuki to stop, but he doesn’t. The blonde pops back the switch and pulls the pin. The building shakes with the explosion and covers the screen in a blinding light. Some of the students yell out, but I stand speechless. My whole body is shaking in fear. Why would he do this? Does he want to kill Izuku?
“P-Please no,” I whisper.
A large hand gently touches my shoulder. I glance up at All Might and notice that he is smiling still. Does he know that Izuku is okay? His hand moves, assuring me. I take the breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“Bakugou, my boy, if you shoot another blast like that, I’ll end this exorcise forcibly and you will lose,” says All Might to the blonde. “Launching an attack with such an extensive damage radius while indoors defeats the purpose of protecting your stronghold. It doesn’t matter if you’re a hero or a villain, that was just foolish. Once more and you’ll earn yourself massive demerits.”
Katsuki doesn’t seem to like this, but he doesn’t use the second bracer. Instead, he attacks Izuku head on again. The timid teen attempts a counter attack, but Katsuki uses his quirk to redirect his midair directory to his advantage, adjusting his power to thrust himself over Izuku, where he blasts him forward with the other hand. Izuku isn’t able to protect himself from the right swing Katsuki favors so much as he’s sent flying to the side. However, Katsuki grabs his arm and uses a blast from his quirk to spin both the teen and himself around. With the momentum, he slams Izuku roughly to the ground.
I hear some of students make comments about this tactic. It’s a brilliant use of his quirk – Katsuki is amazing. The blonde is a genius when it comes to battle sense. Regrettably, I’ll never be an equal to him.
I watch as Izuku stands and rushes to the corner of the room. He appears to be running, but some of the students think it’s a bit off. They shout to one another on the screen and throw a last resort punch; Katsuki’s explosive power verses Izuku’s mysterious resilience. All Might tries to suspend the match, but something stops him. Izuku tosses his fist into the air. On the top screen, a shockwave blows through the top floor and sends debris everywhere. Ochaco uses her zero gravity quirk to lift a giant beam and swing it effortlessly in front of her. It knocks against the pieces of broken concrete and sends them flying at Tenya. He dodges the attack, unable to stop Ochaco from retrieving the weapon. All Might quickly calls the match; the heroes win.
Katsuki actually loses.
The following battles begin at a new location. After Momo picks apart the strengths and weaknesses of the A and D pairs from the first exorcise, I decide on going into mine with a new outlook. I need to follow the example of Tenya and be the best villain I can be. Katsuki is the persona I chose to take on. His reckless nature cost him the win, I know, but I don’t have a reason to let arrogance best me. My team is counting on me.
The teen with the red hair approaches me inside as we prep for our upcoming battle – our stronghold is on the third floor. He introduces himself as Kirishima Eijirou. I properly thank him for saving me during the practical exam, and introduce myself as well. Sero Hanta joins us, offering up his quirk to support us. He wraps the trial missile in a type of material that looks like cellophane tape while Eijirou and I guard it. Our plan is to stand off against the hero team and hope we’re able to beat them.
The exorcise begins shortly after. The building is unexpectedly quiet, but I am ready for anything. I force an eerie smirk across my lips, and curl my fingers. Strokes of water surround me like wisps of clear smoke. Anyone who comes through that door will die.
The villain team unfortunately loses the exorcise; we lost rather quickly once Eijirou had been captured. But, I am okay with the end result. We score a passing grade for teamwork, and even receive compliments from All Might on our role as the bad guys. I tell myself that I’ll do better next time, however.
The class ends with All Might telling us to return to room 1-A. I stay longer in the bathroom than necessary, cleaning the blood from my nose. The ornate band keeps me from having headaches, but once I take it off, the repercussion of extending my quirk seems to stay with me. It’s horrible, but it’s a price I am willing to pay in order to become a hero. Still, I wonder how my mother deals with this; it’s draining me.
By the time I leave the bathroom, the afternoon class is over. I decide to go home, having no real reason to stay. I’ve not heard from Katsuki since the trail, but for all I know, he might still be upset with his loss to Izuku. He spoke none during the remaining battles, and seems to be upset that I used his persona to be a better villain – Momo mentions the comparisons. I see the shock in his eyes when All Might congratulates me.
I sigh in annoyance and take out my phone. I plan to address this with him, but once I pass by a window that overlooks the entrance yard, I quickly notice the blonde walking towards the front gate. Maybe I can catch up to him. However, before I make up my mind, I notice Izuku walk up behind him. They seem to speak to one another with composure. I fear the worse if this talk heads south; Izuku is not good at keeping the blonde from going off. I want to join them, but maybe Katsuki needs this. Izuku and he need to work on their repairing their friendship. I decide to leave them be.
Their talk doesn’t last much longer. Katsuki shouts something at the green-eyed teen and leaves, only to be stopped by All Might. I don’t waste time, and rush down to the entrance. But, once I step into the warm sun, I realize I am too late. Katsuki is gone. Izuku and All Might stop talking once I clear my throat.
“Excuse me,” I say timidly.
They step aside and allow me to pass. Out of the blue, however, Izuku grabs my upper arm. He’s gentle about it, and apologizes once I spare him a glance.
“Your battle went well, I heard. Congratulations.”
Tears burn at my eyes. I ignore them, and force a smile. His hand releases my arm, so I use this opportunity to move away from the teen. I turn my back to him and leave. My heart feels heavy at this. I realize that it’s going to be hard to ignore Izuku, but I need to. Taking out my phone again, I text a quick message to Katsuki, telling him to be careful on his way home. He may not reply, but I know he will read it. Tomorrow is a new day, so maybe things will somehow work out.
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pornosophic · 6 years
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"If I am hooked on anything it's you, Rachel O." Watching her  shifty in the mirror. "On women," she said, "on what you think love is: take, take. Not on me." He started brushing his teeth fiercely. In the mirror as she watched there  bloomed a great flower of leprous-colored foam, out of his mouth and down  both sides of his chin. "You want to go," she yelled, "go then." He said something but around the toothbrush and through the foam neither  could understand the words. "You are scared of love and all that means is somebody else," she said. "As  long as you don't have to give anything, be held to anything, sure: you can  talk about love. Anything you have to talk about isn't real. It's only a way  of putting yourself up. And anybody who tries to get through to you - me -  down." Profane made gurgling noises in the sink: drinking out of the tap, flushing  out his mouth. "Look," coming up for air, "what did I tell you? Didn't I  warn you?" "People can change. Couldn't you make the effort?" She was damned if she'd  cry. "I don't change. Schlemihls don't change." "Oh that makes me sick. Can't you stop feeling sorry for yourself? You've  taken your own flabby, clumsy soul and amplified it into a Universal  Principle." "What about you and that MG." "What does that have to do with any -" "You know what I always thought? That you were an accessory. That you,  flesh, you'd fall apart sooner than the car. That the car would go on, in a  junkyard even it would look like it always had, and it would have to be a  thousand years before that thing could rust so you wouldn't recognize it.  But old Rachel, she'd be long gone. A part, a cheesy part, like a radio,  heater, windshield-wiper blade." She looked upset. He pushed it. "I only started to think about being a schlemihl, about a world of things  that had to be watched out for, after I saw you alone with the MG. I didn't  even stop to think it might be perverted, what I was watching. All I was was  scared." "Showing how much you know about girls." He started scratching his head, sending wide flakes of dandruff showering  about the bathroom. "Slab was my first. None of those tweed jockstraps at Schlozhauer's got any  more than bare hand. Don't you know, poor Ben, that a young girl has to take  out her virginity on something, a pet parakeet, a car - though most of the  time on herself." "No," he said his hair all in clumps, fingernails gone yellow with dead  scalp. "There's more. Don't try to get out of it that way." "You're not a schlemihl. You're nobody special. Everybody is some kind of a  schlemihl. Only come out of that scungille shell and you'd see." He stood, pear-shaped, bags under the eyes, all forlorn. "What do you want?  How much are you out to get? Isn't this -" he waved at her an inanimate  schmuck - "enough?" "It can't be. Not for me, nor Paola." "Where does she -" "Anywhere you go there'll always be a woman for Benny. Let it be a comfort.  Always a hole to let yourself come in without fear of losing any of that  precious schlemihlhood." She stomped around the room. "All right. We're all  hookers. Our price is fixed and single for everything: straight, French,  round-the-world. Can you pay it, honey? Bare brain, bare heart?" "If you think me and Paola -" "You and anybody. Until that thing doesn't work any more. A whole line of  them, some better than me, but all just as stupid. We can all be conned  because we've all got one of these," touching her crotch, "and when it talks  we listen." She was on the bed. "Come on baby," she said, too close to crying, "this  one's for free. For love. Climb on. Good stuff, no charge." Absurdly he thought of Hiroshima the electronics technician, reciting a  mnemonic guide for resistor color-coding. Bad boys rape our young girls behind victory garden walls (or "but Violet  gives willingly"). Good stuff, no charge. Could any of their resistances be measured in ohms? Someday, please God,  there would be an all-electronic woman. Maybe her name would be Violet. Any  problems with her, you could look it up in the maintenance manual. Module  concept: fingers' weight, heart's temperature, mouth's size out of  tolerance? Remove and replace, was all. He climbed on anyway.
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misgivings · 7 years
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Halloween candy, ranked
43. Peeps: Plumbing caulk. Leftover foam party residue. I don’t care if you made it look like a cute little ghostie. It’s still meringue with poor self-esteem.
42. Popcorn balls: At least hand out apples, Mom.
41. Weird off-brand chocolate wrapped in foil: If a candy sits in a bowl and no one eats it, is it still candy? At what point does it become an artifact?
40. Candy pumpkins: The candy equivalent of eating crown molding. This is for decoration.
39. Candy corn: Though it is similar to its pumpkin-shaped colleague, the saving grace of these most divisive Halloween candies is that you can stick them on your canine teeth and pretend to be a vampire with gingivitis. What would you call that flavor, anyway? Expired sugar? Dull resignation to the way things have always been? Be better to yourself.
38. Lollipops: Dum Dums are legit. Anything else takes too long and keeps you from eating other candy.
37. Bubblegum: See above. As a Koopa shell is in Mario Kart, so this is. It just gets in the way. Don’t get me started on Blow Pops.
36. Smarties: Some blackboard chalk magnate is cackling at the greatest scam ever pulled.
35. Swedish Fish: Like a fine malbec, one cannot appreciate Poseidon’s gummiest children until adulthood, and even then only if they have particular tastes. They’re not worth putting in a festive cauldron for all to enjoy.
34. Taffy: No one else is in on the joke, grandma.
33. Jellybeans: I want to shove candy in my mouth, not consult a chart just to figure out if I’m about to taste lemon or pee.
32. Jolly Ranchers: These are a prize for many children, enticed by a shard of glass that will turn their tongue blue. The discerning confection connoisseur knows they’re one-note and cloying.
31. Airheads: Only ranked higher than taffy because it doesn’t double as a low-cost dental filling. Softer, gentler, still inessential.
30. Nerds: These are heterosexual Pop Rocks.
29. 3 Musketeers: You get out of life what you put into it. If you put in only nougat, you become the elevator music of candies.
28. Milk Duds: I love a Milk Dud. I hate needing a Waterpik and a blowtorch to not look like Austin Powers when I’m done.
27. Pixy Stix: One one hand, I respect the simplicity of distilling the concept of candy to straight-up sugar granules. On the other hand, it’s like ordering coffee at Starbucks and just getting a cup of beans. Do a little work, man.
26. Hershey’s Kisses: This is a Christmas candy.
25. Hershey’s Bar: It’s like eating a dry baked potato. Sure, you can do it. But you don’t have to.
24. Sweet Tarts: Smarties are Olivia Newton-John at the beginning of “Grease.” Sweet Tarts are Olivia Newton-John in leather pants.
23. Sour Patch Kids: A year-round favorite of kids, and for good reason, but don’t you find all that sour sugar gauche?
22. Kit Kat: Humble and workmanlike, like a dad who works nights.
21. M&Ms (peanut): This will be an upset ranking, but I don’t care. These are not bad, but I’ve never eaten a bag of plain M&Ms and thought, “I wish this tasted like a free snack from a bar.”
20. Snickers: The prototypical candy bar. You’ve got your chocolate, your caramel, your nuts. Somehow, that chewy devil, nougat, snuck into this party. But all things considered, it’s earned its prestige.
19. Milky Way: There is a small chance I just don’t love peanuts in my candy.
18. Twix: The main problem with candy in general is that it’s not cookies. These sugary Frankenstein sticks found a crunchy, chewy gap in the market and filled it like capitalist heroes.
17. Almond Joy: A flood of tender, tropical sweetness mixed with crunchy, hearty almonds and enveloped in milk chocolate. My stance on nuts is becoming more inscrutable by the minute. I guess sometimes you do feel like a nut.
16. Pop Rocks: For the kind of Halloween that says, “I WANT CANDY TO PUNCH MY TONGUE REPEATEDLY BUT ALSO HISS INSIDE ME LIKE A MELTING SNAKE.”
15. Nestle Crunch: Look no further for evidence that texture is a major player in the confectionary Hunger Games. The defined ridges on the Crunch bar are fun to bite into; the crisped rice mixed in keeps the sensations coming with each chew.
14. Whoppers: They’re like little eggs filled with crunchy powder that taste like an ice cream treat. Weird, but good! They’ve been around in some form since the late 1930s, which is exactly the era in which you’d think someone would create something called a “malted milk ball.”
13. Lemonheads: This list has not been kind to harder candies, but Lemonheads (and to a lesser extent, their various fruit-flavored siblings) combine a sweet-and-sour lemon flavor that’s not too precious with a layered texture experience. Bonus: The creator named them after his newborn son because he thought the baby’s head looked like a lemon. Delicious and inspired by a casual insult to an infant!
12. Starburst: Picking up taffy’s slack since 1960.
11. Skittles: Just not the purple ones.
10. 100 Grand: This candy bar makes me feel like I have clear pores and a Roth IRA.
9. Tootsie Pops: See, lollipops? All you needed was a little punch of chocolate in the middle to transcend this world.
8. Dots: Soft, juicy and unique in their interpretation of a classic fruit palette. Don’t sleep on these gumdrops.
7. M&Ms (plain): Peanuts are a distraction. I meant it.
6. Reese’s Pieces: On the other hand … You’re going to start noticing a theme, and it’s that I will praise peanut butter like I’m a choosy mom who chooses bribes from the peanut butter lobby.
5. Twizzlers: Black licorice? A poisonous hose. Red Twizzlers? A delicious, edible soda straw.
4. Gummy worms: You could slot any gummy product here, because they’re all pretty legit, but the worms take the trophy home with their name engraved on it, due to the fact that they’re spooky.
3. Tootsie Rolls: It has recently come to my attention that many people dislike Tootsie Rolls. This happened when I expressed my love for it at work, and my colleagues shrieked like I’d told them our newspaper was pivoting to video. They are wrong, and I question their moral fiber. Tootsie Rolls are chewy, they have a mellow cocoa taste and they’re really hard to melt. Also, this fact, per the Tootsie Roll website, is bonkers and worthy of respect on the creepiest holiday: Inventor Leo Hirshfield’s “recipe required the incorporation of the previous day’s Tootsie Rolls into each newly cooked confection, a graining process that Tootsie continues to this day. As such, there’s (theoretically) a bit of Leo’s very first Tootsie Roll in every one of the sixty four million Tootsie Rolls that Tootsie produces each day.”
2. Butterfinger: Just enough of a peanut butter flavor to be warm and familiar, but just different enough to be its own thing. Perhaps the most gorgeous of the candies on this list — more treats should look like geologic formations when you bite into them. Crispety, crunchety orange shale forever.
1. Reese’s Cups: King candy. The reigning champion of decadence. You know you’re in charge when your name becomes synonymous with your flavor combination. When I worked at Amy’s Ice Creams, we were told the peanut butter cups were one of the most expensive crush’ns. Royalty knows its worth. Now, figure out a way to get more peanut butter in that cup.
(source)
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Home Part Two
Pairing: Theon Greyjoy x Reader
Request:  i beg you to do something about theon x reader, mb home part 2 or something. it was really great, but my heart still broken after readin so please pretty please do part 2. mb something like theon and reader discuss their feelings, and off course it's not perfect, but it's getting better. or mb like she think about what ramsay do to him "robb surely like to see theon dead, but what ramsay did to him is 100 times worse than death."
Wordcount: 2,105
A/N: Takes place between 7x05 and 7x06
Part One
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You were lucky that the dragon mother chose not to press you with questions, though you supposed if she really wanted questions she could go to Jon or Tyrion. You couldn’t help but wonder just how much the Lannister could recall about the two of you from his visit to the north all those years before. A part of you was tempted to ask him, during one of the quieter moments in the castle, but there had been more pressing things on your mind.
Bran and Arya were alive. The two little siblings you had mourned for for so long were alive, safe and well behind winterfell’s walls. The thought made your head spin. After what happened to Rickon and Ramsey’s hands you had convinced yourself that the two of them must have joined the seven heavens, they would have been better for it rather than leaving them to suffer in this cruel realm alone. You had been wrong, if this letter handed to you was to believed, you couldn’t help but wonder what the two of them had been through, something within you knew that it could not have been easy, the fates had stopped being kind to your family long ago. 
You couldn’t help but envy Sansa, the fact that she was there with them, whilst you once more looked like a fool for leaving your family home. Still there was little you could do about it now Jon needed you here his advisor at his side, a true blooded Stark to ensure that the Targaryen queen took him seriously. 
You promised yourself that when this was all over and the night king was but a legend once more the five of you would be together once more. Still there was plenty strings that seemed to be pulling the lot of you apart.
“I’ll go with you,” you voiced. You were a strong fighter, not so good with a sword but quick on your feet and accurate when you tugged on a bow string.
“No,” Jon spoke silencing your idea. “We can not risk you, if I die then you are the rightful ruler of the north... Besides someone needs to keep eye on the dragon glass,” 
“Jon-” You began to complain but Daenerys beat you to it. 
“You can have full reign of the castle while your here my lady, You can hardly blame Lord Snow for not wanting to send his sister into danger,”
“Then let me at least go the wall, I can help Davos or return to our siblings,” You argued, hating the feeling you were simply being brushed aside once more.
“Forgive me my Lady,” Tyrion interrupted “I believe what your brother is trying to say is that he needs someone he can trust here and if you don’t mind me saying, you do have some unfinished business here,”
You were annoyed to say the least, but you bowed your head and said little else, knowing when to chose your battles.
The beach seemed less enchanting the next time you stood upon it, the routine of bidding brother’s goodbye all too fatiguing by now. He was not alone of course, he had Davos for now at least, and Tormund was not about to let your brother face such horrors alone, but your brother’s had almost all died once now, and you could not shake the feeling that this may well be the last time you laid your eyes on Jon once more. You dug your fingernails into the skin of your palm in an attempt to prevent yourself from crying as you watched the boats begin to be pushed out into the water. you had to keep up a calm exterior, you were still after all a wolf in the dragon’s den.
You took a step towards “Be safe Snow,” you told him as you released him from your embrace and pressed a kiss to his temple. “Get back safely, else Arya is going to kill you when we back home,” There was a slight smile that graced his lips at the comment.
“And you Stark,”
With that you nodded towards Ser Davos and Gendry and took a step back, letting Jon say goodbye to the ruler he seemed to like so much, ignore unsettled feeling within you. Jon was not Robb, he would return to your side. You had never had the chance to tell Robb you loved him, you were smuggled out as Roose Bolton plunged his blade into your brother's chest and your Mother's throat was slit. The sound of Greywind's howls filled your mind and you could not help but long for the feeling of your own wolf by your side, or better yet that Jon was taking the snow white ghost with him. You wanted to yell at him, not to leave you like Theon and Robb before him, and yet you said nothing.
You just prayed to the old gods that he got back safely.
It was poetic really, you should have known that the two of you would have found each other once more. The pull between the two of you was just as strong as it ever was, and without Yara there to guide him Theon was as lost as the sea foam that graced the waves he loved so much.
You were aware that you could have gone anywhere you wanted within Dragonstone’s walls, but after the farewell you were not feeling much like keeping company, so you took yourself to the library hoping you might find something useful within its shelves with the aim of then going back to the guest quarters where you had been sleeping. what you had not been anticipating was Theon travelling in the opposite direction.
The two of you collide ungracefully, your eyes too busy scanning over the books that were currently clutched to your chest, you mouth stumbles out an apology before you even moved to see the others face, though really you should have known it was him.
"I'm sorry-" you blurt out before catching sight of brown hair that was so much shorter than you remember. "Theon," you comment the name slipping off your tongue as easy as the oxygen you breath. Honestly you hadn't been able to give too much thought to the Greyjoy's presence in the castle. Once you knew that it would have been all you could think about, you wouldn't even try to count the number of time you had laid awake thinking solely of what your future might have held in store, the number of children you would have, the grin he would have held on his face at the thought of coming home to you. You had as much power to day dream as Sansa, everyone said, when it came to Theon at least. But now you had other things to take up your mind, even the Night's King seemed like a warmer concept than the kraken boy.
"It was my fault," He responded, swiftly as if you were about to reprimand him. Ramsay's work you presumed, shaping Theon till he was no better than a dog.
Gods there wasn't a day that went by that didn't wish that you had been the one to plunge an arrow into that bastard's heart, for Robb, for Sansa, for Rickon, even for Theon. In some ways you felt guilty for him. You had been there when Robb had received a raven about Theon's betrayal, but you had been too occupied by the tears on your face to intervene when Roose suggested his bastard from the dreadfort. You wondered sometimes if you had been the one to ride back north, how much things might have changed. You would have been able to make Theon listen you were sure of it, maybe you would have been able to save Ser Rodrick, Bran and Rickon would have been safe, and Robb wouldn't have been forced to make such stupid decisions. Still Robb's words ran through your mind, your king's anger scarring you. "They'll be no talk, he will die for this," he had vowed in front of you, your mother and everyone present. Still you couldn't help but wonder what Robb would make of all that Theon had been through, in many ways he wasn't even Theon anymore. Then Theon you and Robb had loved, had left after he kissed you goodbye and simply never came back.
You could curse yourself for simply standing there, so you gather what little strength you have and speak. "We both know that I've always been the clumsy one," There is almost sentiment in your voice it takes you by surprise, but then you supposed there was little else you could do.
"A lot of things have changed since then my Lady," he returns, not glancing up at you even then.
You can't take the awkwardness of the interaction for much longer, so you move around him and prepare to continue walking through the hallway.
"Yes I suppose they have,"
You sat in your quarters till the next day, rejecting even the thought of food due to the fear that had taken such a deep root within you. There had been word from Davos that they had reached Eastwatch, but nothing since. You supposed that was a good thing, after all there was no way to send a raven from beyond the wall, but you knew you were unlikely to settle until you were at Jon's side once more, your mind unable to wander any further now. You busied yourself brushing you red locks, organising what few clothes you had been able to bring with you, until your attention was caught by a sound.
"Y/n," You jumped at the sound of Theon's voice and the knock on the closed door that accompanied it.
"Come in,"
The door creeaked open, revealing the Greyjoy's face from behind it.
"What is it Theon?" You asked, trying not to snap as you knew it would make him uncomfortable and might have even scared him away, not that you cared for his presence very much.
"There's been word from Eastwatch, Jon's in trouble, Danyeris is taking the dragons in the hopes that she might be able to help him,"
The gasp that you let out was audible as you felt yourself fall back onto the bed behind you arms drawn protectively around yourself as your hand comes to cover your mouth. This wasn't part of the plan, Jon assured you that he would have been back safely, now it was down to a girl the pair of you barely knew to save your brother.
"This can't be happening," you said more to yourself than Theon, who was awkwardly standing in the doorway gaze set hard onto the floor.
"Theon... What- What if he doesn't make it back," you choke out. Robb, Rickon, you had already lost Jon once you simply couldn't cope with the thought you might lose him once again. It was odd, but it was only then that you realised how Theon must have been thinking over the past few days, all whilst you yourself dismissed the fate of his sister.
The boy in questions took a few slow, calculated steps before finally crouching down in front of you, your Theon would have reached out and taken your hand, and yet this was not your Theon.
"Don't think like that Y/n," he spoke quietly, in a way he would have never before. The old Theon would have joked away your feelings until you were laughing once more, this one was far more serious. "Jon and Robb would want you to be strong for them," Were you in a different mood you would have cursed him for the mention of the dead Stark, but in that moment the sound of your twin's voice was nothing but a comfort.
You scrambled forward with your arm in that moment, taking Theon's hand in your own, in many ways simply to test that he was real, you knew you would be angry at yourself for seeking such comfort later, unsure of what Robb might or might not have thought, despite the fact your brother was long cold in his grave.
Things between you and Theon weren't fixed, perhaps they would never be but in that moment you allowed yourself to draw comfort from the fact that he was there beside you, that one of the boys you loved so dearly had come home to you.
"Your right," you nodded a fire from somewhere within you. "Jon will return unharmed, you'll see and when he does we will save Yara I swear,"
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rebelren · 7 years
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Leverage ficlet
Set after the Gone Fishing Job
(Thanks for reading this and giving me your ideas and feedback, cousin!)
---
After that time they were stuck in the woods together - and the subsequent disappointment of the fishing game - Eliot decides to take Alec on a proper camping trip.
Alec is initially reluctant when Eliot informs him they're taking a trip next weekend, especially when he hears they will be Outdoors ("Really, man? With the bugs? And the SMELLS?"), but then he gets into the idea.
The whole next week, packages of varying shapes and sizes arrive at McRory's. This isn't unusual, not since that time with the mechanical bull, so Eliot doesn't think much of it.
Of course, the day they leave, Parker decides she wants cake. Now. With seven rainbow layers because the Glenn-Reeder 107 was the first safe she ever cracked, and therefore, seven is one of her favorite numbers. Oh, and also sprinkles. The more, the better. So Eliot spends the afternoon making her the rainbow sprinkle cake of her dreams, because of course he does. And despite the frustration of trying - and failing - to prevent her from getting right in the middle of everything and sticking her fingers into everything for a taste or three, it’s worth it to see her face when the cake is ready. This means Alec has to load the car, but he doesn’t seem to mind (or even complain much, which is honestly surprising). He does, however, make it clear he expects extra cake in compensation. And then stands around and grins at Parker while she eats more cake in one sitting than should be humanly possible.
Eliot mostly enjoys the car ride. Getting out of the city always helps him unwind a bit, even before he arrives at his destination. It’d be better if Hardison would quit fiddling with the music system and stop complaining about the diminishing cell phone and wifi signal, but it isn't any worse than Eliot expected.
When they arrive at the remote and empty camp area, Eliot tells Alec to unload the car and goes to find some firewood. He’s enjoying the fresh air and physical exertion, so he lingers a bit. When he returns, arms full, he freezes in his tracks. He fully expected to find Hardison lying on the ground tangled up in the tent stakes or something equally ridiculous, given his track record with ropes, but THIS is a surprise.
Alec has somehow conjured up a monstrosity of a tent, flaps open wide to show hints of at least one full mattress inside - and who knows what other ridiculous unnecessaries.
As Eliot stands there staring, Alec emerges from behind the tent.
“Eliot! Isn’t she a beauty? I just got the satellite hooked up and--”
“What the HELL is that?”
Alec stares at him.
“It’s a tent.”
“Dammit, Hardison! Why couldn’t you get a normal tent? What IS all this?”
“Man, I’m a hacker. It’s what I do. You can’t expect me to go camping and not improve on the concept!”
A short argument (read: yelling match) ensues, which is brought to an end by Alec taking Eliot by the arm and leading him into the tent to show him the kitchen area. Eliot takes it all in. The fact that Alec brought a Keurig is just insulting, but it IS adequately equipped. Despite Eliot’s annoyance, it would be nice to have a better cooking set up, and at least the tent seems structurally sound. Being impaled by a tent pole while sleeping is not on his list of Acceptable Ways to Die. He is less happy when he sees the satellite tv and gaming laptop Hardison has brought and the argument revives.
Eventually, they get everything set up, each making compromises and neither happy with the final result. Eliot needs some space, so he heads outside to get a fire going. He's still pissed. The whole point of this was to get away! Be in nature! And now there's a giant-ass tent full of fucking memory foam mattresses and Egyptian cotton sheets right over there. All he'd wanted was to spend some time out here where he can breathe deeply for once. And lord knows Alec could use some time away from the keyboard.
Deprived of his beloved technology, Alec follows him outside and parks himself by the fire, keeping up a constant stream of grumbling.
"Man, I don't know what would've been so bad about having my tech. I could be watching the football game right now now, or playing World of Warcraft. I can't BELIEVE you expect me to abandon my party for a whole weekend…”
This continues while Eliot starts the food prep. He tunes it out for a while, but once everything is set, Alec is still talking.
“...Instead I gotta sit here on a LOG of all things, getting bit by who knows WHAT, watching you cook with nothing else to DO!”
Eliot is fed up. He stands and turns towards Alec, intending something, though he's not sure exactly what. To make him stop somehow. But there Alec is, right there, lit by the firelight. And if he’d just shut that mouth of his…
It’s not intentional. Eliot doesn’t make a conscious decision to do it. It’s like how his body moves during a fight, running on instinct and muscle memory. He reaches out and pulls Alec to his feet. And then he’s kissing Alec, roughly, annoyance coming through loud and clear. If kisses could talk, this one would be saying, “Will you just shut UP already?”
Alec is NOT prepared for this. He’s stunned into stillness for a moment, but then… Eliot’s really good at this kissing thing. And it’s not like he hasn’t thought about this over the past few years. Hell, who wouldn’t be attracted to Eliot? Alec seizes his opportunity, puts his hands in Eliot’s incredible hair, and starts kissing him back.
In the end, Alec admits the outdoors may have some merits.
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socialfairytale · 5 years
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Mask Attempt 4 - Upholstery Foam Build 1
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Since I still had some upholstery foam left from the previous attempt I decided to try building the mask up from a foam base. To make the balaclava I used the tutorial above. 
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I used lycra as it’s a stretchy fabric that’s generally cool and doesn’t make you sweat like fleece would. 
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I wrapped the fabric around my face to figure out how wide it needed to be, then cut it, folded it in half and draw a semi-circle on the top. 
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I used a straight stitch on the sewing machine to sew the balaclava together. 
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To make the eye and mouth holes, I put the balaclava on my head and drew onto it with a sharpie based on where my eyes, nose and mouth were. then cut out two circles and a rounded triangle. 
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The next portion of the mask was inspired by this tutorial - 
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I took inspiration from the foam shapes that they used to create the head, all of which I made from 1inch Upholstery foam. The muzzle however was 2 pieces of 3 inch stuck together and then carved. 
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This was another case of ‘I haven’t spent enough time on it to make it look good’ I would like to actually come back and finish this base, my main issue was that the eye holes weren’t symmetrical, neither was the face itself- although I know this can be fixed by just adding or removing material. 
This method also stressed me out a lot so I decided to scrap it and move on - and i’m actually really glad I did since the entire process to make this head would have taken far too long for such a short project. 
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I like the shape of this head though, it could definitely turn into something cool for a future project even though it may not be suitable for this one! After this I decided that the concept of making a mask was entirely too stressful so I opted for a smaller scale model, at least for now. 
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