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sneezemonster15 · 1 year

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"Sakura is so unhinged, she doesn't have a backstory yet she manages to keep up with the crazy as the rest of team seven".

That's the jist of it, the person was basically saying shes an interesting character. When she punchs naruto for no reason it doesn't make you laugh, she's never cool because she always gets her ass handed to her in fights and has to be saved, she's not interesting because her goal is a guy's d and the only backstoryshown is her ditching ino who was there for her when she got bullied. How is her being a pathetic ungrateful bullying asshole that acts like an animal in heat when her crush is around interesting? I mean it's fine if a character has negative traits or is a villan, like orochimaru, when he appears you're never disappointed cuz he's interesting and entertaining. Another example is madara.

Sakura on the other hand, has nothing in her that makes her interesting or even entertaining in the least. It's annoying when people acknowledge her Canon traits but then acts likes it's something great and entertaining and interesting or funny.

Sakura could have been an interesting character even after retaining all her toxicities if she simply owned it. Like you said, one can be a villain or an antagonist and still be interesting. Problem with her character is that she doesn't really contribute anything significant to the story, she doesn't really make a difference but acts like she is important and significant and a badass guuuurrrl power candidate when she is not any of that. She is a delusional hypocrite. Which is why she is basically just annoying.

Sensible audiences can see and feel when the character is reliable, this can be done with various narrative devices. Like for eg, when a character has made a promise to themselves to accomplish something, they are able to do it. She wasn't. She thought she had become an awesome kunoichi just after becoming a genin, lol, but she didn't and this was shown clearly in the first arc itself where she proved herself to be utterly useless and pointless in battles. Also no contribution to the narrative, just standing there fainting or cowering in her pants. She decides she would get out of Ino's shadow but still doesn't manage to win the chuunin battle against her and it only ends up in a tie. She hardly even shows any real motivation to become a better or more skillful shinobi unless it has to do with impressing Sasuke, something even Sasuke reprimands her about. In the forest of death arc, when Sauske and Naruto are unconscious, she decides she would protect them but isn't even able to set a trap right and the sound village shinobis aren't fooled by her for one second. Lol. And of course, she needs Lee and Ino and Sasuke to rescue her or fight for her. She dramatically cuts her own hair and immediately mocks Ino for her vanity when she is obviously the more vain of the two. So clearly. She asks Naruto to wait for her and that she would get strong enough to get Sasuke back but doesn't manage to do it either, in fact, does the opposite, pushes Sasuke farther away with her idiotic proclamations and stupid, ill thought confessions. She decides she would kill Sasuke in kage arc but messes up like a total loser and isn't able to do shit and again needs to be rescued by Naruto and Kakashi. She decides she would stop Naruto from going to look for Sasuke in kage arc and without putting any thought into it, fake confesses to Naruto and obviously gets rejected properly like the nincompoop she is. She gets all huffy when cloud ninjas insult Sasuke and tries to take them on but ends up on the ground face first and needs to be again rescued by Naruto. Her stans are funny when they sing about her strength, she couldn't even fight average cloud ninjas. Lol. She prepares to stab Obito's eye in the war arc but obviously almost gets skewered by Madara when Obito transports her out. She tries to attack Madara and charges at him, again without any thought or planning, just like Hinata in pein arc, and gets stabbed. She then tries to follow Naruto and Sasuke into the fray but is stopped by Kakashi who tells her to not go unless she has a plan. Which she obviously doesn't. Lol.

Like nothing she does bears any fruit. Except for her battle with Sasori where she is propped up by Chiyo who is the real fighter here, or in the war arc where she is propped up by Kakashi, she isn't able to do shit.

The audience would still give her some credit for trying if she admitted her mistakes and shortcomings and worked on them till she did something right on her own. But she just doesn't. And what she does accomplish is very very insignificant compared to the amount of visibility she gets in the manga. Plus, she is always putting herself up on a pedestal in terms of ideal shinobihood (a shinobi doesn't cry or a crying won't bring Sasuke back or revenge wouldn't do Sasuke any good, right after which, she throws all her statements away to trail behind him) or gives herself a moral high ground when it is shown again and again that she doesn't have any reason to. So the impression that it makes in the minds of the readers is that she is not only useless and pointless, but delusional, a hypocrite and just a plot device for Sasuke and Naruto's relationship to grow. She simply serves to annoy her audience, who invests in her arc or role but gets nothing out of it except for constant disappointment and irritation. No reward. No narrative payback, no satisfactory climax. And she continues to make an ass out of herself what with harassing Sasuke, confessing to him in such an embarrassing and ill-thought of manner. And she also continues to be a jerk to Naruto, the sweet, empathetic, kind and characteristically reliable MC of this story for no other reason than her own superiority complex which has no real foundation except for her own vanity and resentment towards him given he gets the attention from Sasuke she thinks she deserves.

She would have been an interesting character if Kishi had given her arc an upward movement. She realizes her mistakes and promises herself to be better but she doesn't do shit about it. That's a good way to antagonize your reader. Lol. She mocks Naruto for his orphanhood in front of another orphan right in her introduction, which is when Sasuke mocks her back and sets her straight. So she realizes that she did the wrong thing. This should ideally and narratively have culminated in her not being a jerk towards Naruto. What's the point of a realization if you continue being the same way? Same goes for when she realizes that Naruto is a jinchuuriki in Gaara retrieval arc and has been through many struggles she can't even freaking imagine, but her attitude towards Naruto still doesn't change. She keeps being a violent jerk and condescending bully to him till the end. Even though he shows much more intelligence and presence of mind than she does. He is the one who finds out the way to defeat Kakashi in the second bell test. He is the one who is the unpredictable and clever ass ninja who ends up saving the day while she just stands there and watches the show. Or gets beaten up while he has to rescue her. He is the one who wins both the fights in chuunin exams while she only draws in her first one. He is the one who fights Oro along with Sasuke while she faints (even mentioned by Shizune in Gaiden who says it's Sakura's regular habit lol). Sasuke and Naruto are the ones who fight and defeat Gaara while she is held prisoner by Gaara, unable to do shit. She is a jerk to Lee and Ino, even though both of them try to help her. She corrects her behaviour with Lee but not with Ino or Naruto because she sees them as a threat because of their interest in Sasuke. She insults Kakashi about his skills even though Kakshi himself ends up rescuing her multiple times. She insults Tsunade even though she never surpassed her or came up with her own jutsu or changed the shinobi world with her inventions like Tsunade did.

Kishi very mindfully wrote her to be reviled, otherwise he would have given her a significant arc development in terms of skills and personality. But he deliberately kept her character the same throughout by repeating the same narrative motifs throughout, till the fucking end. Her jealousy, resentment and bullying treatment of Naruto. Her bad treatment of Ino, even repeating it in Gaiden. Her annoying harassment and pestering of Sasuke. Her insensitivity towards Sasuke's predicament and beliefs. Her shallowness towards him and Naruto. Her showing other women down to feel good about herself. Her lack of skills and strategies and propensity to enter a battle without thinking only to be beaten up in return and getting rescued by the same people she mocks. This stops the audience from feeling any sympathy towards her. Her feeling so good about herself when there's nothing to show that she really deserves to. These are the recurring patterns and motifs that Kishi relentlessly repeats to show the audience that her character never improved, never evolved, never changed, never learnt better, never worked on herself in the ways that truly mattered, and never became more emotionally intelligent or sensitive. Never matured. A manga that is about coming of age for so many characters, her and Hinata surely lag miles behind, no?

Kishi had his heart set on showing these two women down, with all his narrative tricks and tools. It's not even indirect, if a little subtle in some places. But mostly and more often, it's blatant af. Her character could have been interesting with some changes here and there. One can be weak, or less than skillful, or not be the brightest, or most courageous, but can still inspire, it depends on how they are written. Inari was weak and helpless, but his arc ended up on an inspiring note. Naruto wasn't skillful to begin with but he works his ASS OFF to learn even though he had all sorts of disadvantages. Chouji wasn't the brightest or most courageous but his arc also ends up on an inspiring note, where he comes of age positively and makes a difference to the story. Everyone in this story has their own weaknesses or drawbacks but they are written to triumph over them with much effort and willpower after realizing their mistakes and doing everything to correct them. Not Sakura or Hinata. They have realizations but keep acting the same, without changing or evolving. This is what sets a very negative impression of them in the minds of the audience. Storytelling works subliminally. And Kishi does everything to affect the reader to facilitate the negative impression of these two women in the manga and the film scripts he wrote or was involved in. Consistently. With the recurring motifs and patterns.

Her stans, who insist her character is so good and amazing and positive and favoured by Kishi are full of shit. Lol. And that's just a fact. No ifs or buts. It's not a coincidence that she is hated with such passion by such a huge part of the fandom. It was all planned. By Kish Kish.

#ask #anti sakura #anti ss #naruto #sasuke #sns

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allaganexarch · 5 months

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going thru my bookmarks trying to think what directors cut to ask for that i havent harassed you into speaking directly into the camera on stream or into replying to an unhinged comment i left with and what ive arrived at is All Falls Down.

OH WOW.

WHAT A FIC LOL.

oh man that was one of those fics that just made me actively insane and I couldn't do anything until I finished it LOL. but that was true of my whole joan ferguson era i was just chronically Unwell about her.

Going off of what I was talking about on a prev ask, I think the only part of that fic that I hate is the end of the last chapter LOL, I feel like I froze up at the culmination and didn’t do a great job with it, and I don’t feel like the tone is right? I think actually what it is is that the whole fic was so dark and depressing that I wanted to give it a happy ending even though I’m not sure that was what fit with the vibe. Like the rest of the fic is really dark! I think the ending is too soft, or soft in the wrong way, and that’s what bothers me about it.

I think I often get into this mindset of wanting my fics to be “worth it” for people who invested in them, especially since I’m such a slow updater, which isn’t a bad thing per se, but I feel that in a lot of things I wrote after, like, the middle-end of The Prisoner I tended to pull a lot of punches, where I personally might have liked to make my work a little darker or harsher, but I was just sort of nervous about the reaction I would get or if I was like “perpetuating harmful narratives” or something LOL. Stay off the internet kids, people’s terrible takes on fiction can and will rot your brain!

That said, I’m really proud of the rest of the fic—I actually reread it pretty recently! I think it was actually quite a challenge for me to write at the time, and as a result I really grew from it—as I’ve mentioned already, I think I was really insecure about the direction I wanted to take with the prompt, and especially because a friend had asked me to write it, I felt really nervous about pushing it too far? But I don’t think I had ever actually made homophobia a major theme/plot point in my work, at least not since I was like, really young, and I think I also imbued a lot of things I personally very deeply related to into parts of the story, which is always, like… It can be hard to write about things that are really directly personal to you, but it can also come off really well since you have the firsthand experience LOL, so it’s a delicate balance, but I think in this case it mostly came out really well!

You know what’s funny, I feel like now the childhood friend plotline would be like SO in my wheelhouse LOL, I made the choice to create a supporting character who has a limited role and serves a vital narrative function enough times that now I’m like OHOHO hell yeah I can think of a great idea for a little side character like that, easy! But at the time it was a big challenge for me, and once again I’m not sure how I feel about the culmination I added for that character—I think the intention was to humanize her a little more by giving her some doubt/regret about her choice, but I think I could have given her a lot more nuance generally.

One of my favorite threads in the fic is, like, Joan desperately wanting to be seen and loved and desired the way she is, and not because someone has just decided out of some misguided sense of charity to ignore the things about her that are hard to swallow. And I think I could have really pushed that a lot farther and gotten more traction out of it. At least as far as I can recall, Joan comes off fairly noble throughout most of the fic—I think she could have been meaner LOL!

what a fic!!! I still have a lot of fondness for this fic obviously!

Fanfic Writer Director's Cut Ask Game!

#thank you for indulging meeee!!!!!!#exciting tag for answered asks #exciting tag for writing things #personal #fic:all falls down #pcbh #joan ferguson #all joans are good joans #wow it's been awhile since i used that tag!!!

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sea-owl · 2 years

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I have an idea:

It was silent this morning.

Haruka was on high alert.

She shares a body with her past and current life, it is never silent. While admittedly Haruka makes the most noise out of the three of them, she can usually hear Shachi's humming or Sakura's muttering.

So why aren't either of them making any damn noise?

"Haruka, wake up."

Oh hell no.

Haruka shot up and glared at her husband. "What did I do to get sent down to hell with you?"

Madara smirked and moved a piece of hair out of Haruka's face. "We made vows Haruka."

"Till death do we part," Haruka recited. "Well guess what Darling, we're both dead."

Madara leaned closer and Haruka could now clearly see his eyes. His sclerae were gray. "Not anymore my dear."

Haruka could now feel the weight of her ever-present hair piece, Madara's wedding gift to her. It was an outline of the Uchiha fan, designed in the style of the Haruno circle. The last time Haruka felt the physical weight it was the night she died.

"You bastard!" Haruka screamed. Grabbing the fan in the middle where the white would meet red Haruka unsheathed the hidden blade in the handle of the fan.

Madara smirked as his wife stabbed her knife into his arm. "As feisty as ever my dear wife."

Haruka pushed the blade in farther. "I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to resurrect Tobirama just to kill him again for making this god forsaken jutsu."

Madara leaned closer, his new wound already healing around Haruka's knife. "Would you really kill your soulmate?"

Haruka could see her mark out of the corner of her eye, and under that mark is Madara's name.

"Don't be a hypocrite," Haruka spat.

In the end Madara gave the order that Haruka can not harm or poison any Uchiha. Haruka had to obey, and she hated it.

Haruka settled for cussing at her husband every chance she could get instead.

Slowly Madara introduced the other remaining Uchiha to Haruka. It started with Obito, or Tobi.

Haruka rolled her eyes the first time she saw Tobi. “You run around acting like a fool with that orange mask. It’s clever but honestly of all the personas you could have come up with you choose that one?”

Next came Itachi.

Haruka had surprised the boy, because despite him newly turning eighteen he and Obito were still boys to her, as she went up to hug him. Her thumb wiping the blood off his cheek. “I’m sorry for what they made you choose but you’re also an idiot. There was no need to put your brother into that genjutsu, I hope he kicks your ass for that, because sadly my husband won’t let me poison anybody with the last name Uchiha so I can’t do it myself.” .

And lastly was Sasuke.

The last time Haruka had seen him was from in Sakura when Team Yamato had broken into snake creep’s hide out. He looked . . . more unhinged if Haruka was being honest. At least he got rid of the stripper shirt. “I told Itachi you were gonna kick his ass.” She smacked Sasuke on the back of the head. “Now go the fuck home!”

Madara always had one of them looking after her. He apparently wanted his “beloved wife” protected at all costs. What the fuck was gonna hurt her? She’s a dead soul in a body that is not her’s and if hurt would just heal itself. God Haruka hated this jutsu. Tobirama better be prepared for when Haruka finds his ass on the other side.

Madara had only kissed Haruka’s forehead when she brought this up to him. “They are Uchiha, and you are a soulmate to the Uchiha. It is there duty to protect you. Once I find your poisons scroll and the Scroll of Shachi we can work to make the Clan better”

Good luck finding it Haruka had thought to herself, thinking back to her new life. The only lady that the Uchiha clan had now, even if she wasn’t born into it, and the only candidate to give the Scroll of Shachi to. Sakura you better punch every single one of these idiots.

Sasuke apparently knew this too.

“They won’t find the scroll in any of the old Uchiha temples,” Sasuke confesses to her one day. The boy was the one often looking after Haruka lately. Haruka wonders if Madara knew that this was his reincarnation.

“I know,” Haruka says as she mixes her newest poison. Her hand hesitates as she brings it to her lips. She hates that her body always seems to try to fight her when she does this. As always, she wins and drinks the poison. “I don’t even want it back. My time in this world is up, and Sakura has had that thing for years. It’s her responsibility now.”

Sasuke froze. Haruka rolled her eyes at the boy. A fire started in her belly. Huh, that’s not supposed to happen.

“You know about Sakura being an Uchiha soulmate?”

Haruka nodded, fanning herself with one of her plants. The leaf was a perfect size. “Of course, I do. I reincarnated into her.”

Sasuke only stared. “Sakura was you?”

“Yup, Sakura is our third life, at least as far as we can remember. First was Shachi, then I was born as Haruka Haruno, and then came Sakura Haruno.”

Haruka snapped her thighs together. Oh this was not good. Maybe Sakura could find use for this later but damn it now Haruka has to go swallow her pride.

Sasuke looked like he was about to ask more but Haruka waved him off.

“Ask me later Sasuke. I have to go find my bastard of a husband. Something in that poison turned it into an aphrodisiac.”

It’s a good thing Madara is such a perfectionist. Otherwise, this would be really boring.

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unohanadaydreams · 1 year

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Watched the new episode and ❤️ We are angsting.

Probably one of my favorite Byakuya moments tbh. Love when he has angst inflicted upon him. Rukia turning into a corpse has always been one of my favorite horror panels from Kubo. Although I think they could’ve gone even farther with the anime platform and had idealized Rukia say brother or something before and after as well (from normal Rukia to haunting and pained dead Rukia you feel me) To really take advantage of having voice acting instead of just manga panels.

They actually made the pink work really well with the flies too whereas the flashbacks and name cards just look super out of place. Those in charge of the lighting in this anime needs a huge fucking raise because they are CARRYING. Genuinely awash with awe at how they’ve kept the atmosphere going.

10/10 for As Nodt’s voice. Made Byakuya feel even more animated and desperate by contrast. Thought my dude was gonna start up a Gregorian Chant, he was so monotone.

Also, whoever decided to blend pink into Chojiro’s bankai did well too! Whenever they work pink into the setting, it works. Whenever they just shellac it over a scene, it looks eh.

I completely forgot that Jidanbo beats the shit out of R&D. I feel like once you finish TYBW, at least a third of it flees from your memory until you read it again. Sad we lost scenes of my R&D babes but I get it, Ichigo angst is more important. But still very sad I lost out on seeing poor little Rin shaking with fear at his own actions ):

ALSO everyone going Ichigo!!! And Mayuri going :/Akon, huh…..is so funny. He understands it should have been done but he’s still mad it was done without him knowing.

Wow, Mayuri….Didn’t you JUST justify not reporting YOUR actions to someone 🧐 But of course it’s different bc Mayuri deserves more respect and freedom, so Akon is obviously in the wrong here.

Also FINALLY KENPACHI ZARAKI. I like that they animated the Quincy dude turning into Kenpachi. I bet he really regrets killing that guy after the war, when he’s bored as fuck all the time. The thought of Kenpachi learning an ounce of restraint after the war only because he realizes that war time can be fleeting and the battles that are worth while become harder to reach as he grows stronger…..effervescent.

But most importantly: FINALLY KENPACHI ZARAKI!!! Him showing up with a dude slung over his shoulders! Him just ripping out a dudes throat! Him getting choked out by Yhwach 😮‍💨

Tbh something about his face looked a bit off though and I realized they gave him much more defined lips which Kubo just doesn’t do bc Kenpachi is constantly unhinging his jaw like a snake to yell or laugh or smiling so wide it cuts across most of his face so he doesn’t really Need lips. Like, they made his mouth look really similar to Yhwach.

Also remember how everyone thought Grimmjow was coming back immediately after Quilge got killed? Kubo really teased the fuck out of people with that one. Like how many chapters does it take him to really come on panel?? Like at least 50 or more?? I wasn’t super online back then but was there ever doubt that I wasn’t Grimmjow? Like was there debate if it was Ulquiorra?

I always took for granted it was Grimmjow tbh.

#tbh a lot of good stuff this episode #TYBW has its moments #is what I’ll say #there certainly are some moments #excited to see Yamamoto go ape next episode!!!!

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guessillcallitart · 2 years

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Hi, love💌 Glad to see you stumbled upon my writerblr, stay as long as you like. Here's some tea and snacks. This is a warm, safe place for everyone.

I've recently published a very unhinged book, I post about the universe a lot here and feel free to see the book from the link underneath:

About me:

Name: Runo💌

Nationality: Finnish

Zodiac: Aries

Sexuality: asexual, lesbian

Gender: nonbinary (she/he/they)🪩

More things I adore: writing, daydreaming, reading, photography, painting, drawing, being in nature and listening to music, poetry

if you have any questions or just want to ramble about your wips or something else, send me asks or messages :)

I'd be happy to make new friends! Also if you want to be a character in my book, let me know :)

You can tag me in stuff too, tag games, ask games, posts about your wips or stuff you're obsessed with!

Come talk to me, I promise I won't bite to use a very cliché expression :)

About my WIP:

Wip titles: Victorian Shannon Candy floss skies, Indigo skies, Obsidian skies

Genres: fantasy, adventure, horror, romance, ya fiction, lgbt+ and possibly something else I haven't thought of

General content warnings: mature themes/topics such as death, blood, violence, abuse, trauma, self harm, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes

The story begins with a manor in the middle of the woods. It's located in Ireland, in the city of Cork. There's a library there where you can travel back in time to Victorian Era. Something strange and mysterious happened at the time and my heroes and heroines have to figure out what it was. It's difficult because they might have found out something and they forgot all about it.

Our world isn't the only world there is. There is a numerous amount of dimensions, many unheard of, some known but still full of mysteries.

Mystery Shore is the biggest with a vast, whimsical forest. It's dangerous but breathtakingly beautiful with giant jellyfish floating about, planets and stars swirling and sparkling on your path and clumps of seaweeds growing about. The farther you go, the higher the trees and dangerous the creatures are.

Griffins fly above it all kindly searching for lost people. Whatever you do don't get lost. You musn't get lost. There's a creature who lures children away from the path and quickly devours them. The griffins protect you (oh, how beautiful they are with their large, multicoloured eyes and fur like the sunset, their feathers are silvery and gold and rust) but they can't be everywhere and they don't know the way out.

There's powerful, very strange magic in the forest. The older griffins have milky white eyes. If you gaze in them you'll see snippets of your future but beware, they may be hard to approach.

In the town you'll find narrow cobblestone streets, tiny colorful huts and bigger buildings with lofts in them, whimsical shops and a town square with people attempting to sell their assorted goods and services.You may find your way to Elora. With it's soaring cliffs, like shards of glass against the grey sky, it's roughly beautiful. People live in caves resembling honeycombs. There's a vast chasm underneath a hill with an abandoned manor. Bridges run across the chasm.

Echo Valley is a lustrous, emerald green valley with streams running around and colorful houses. There are fields of brilliant, scarlet strawberries and lilac lavender. There are whispers in the air. Remember they're not in your head. The voice just works differently.

Then, the most frightening dimension, Nightmare Valley. It hosts many demons. There are times when they run escape and there are people who'll set them strange and trap again. The dead appear in Nightmare Valley. Good people continue their journey, no one knows where and bad people stay in Nightmare Valley. There are exceptions of course like always.

If you're skilled enough at magic you'll be able see from our world to some other world for the worlds are in the same place in a way, just not visible. Some houses exist in many places at once.

The manor, I named it Étoiles Estate, is haunted. While time traveling, one finds oneself in one of the bodies of the ghosts. The experience is truly terrifying. You'll find yourself inside a persons's head. The person has been long dead. For centuries.

I have OC:s who are witches, dryads, demons, werewolves and people. There are different sexualities, relationships and looks among them. The characters are complex and unique.

The worlds tend to interwine, beware for you might not know what is real and what is simply an illusion. In our world there's a murderer. He kills simply for vengeance. He seeks retribution from people who have hurt him. He wields magic but rarely uses it as a weapon for he likes to see blood being spilled.

Aesthetics: cherry blossoms floating in the air, sweet scent of jasmine, flowers woven in hair, sunkissed skin, freckles like stars patterned on skin, eyes like the night sky, mischievous glint in hazel eyes, sunlight like dandelions pouring through the tree branches and leaves, deep sorrow, plunging you down to the depths of it but you rise again like a sunflower and face the sun, fighting because that's all you've ever known, laughter, pure happiness, loneliness, finding your people, wondering what you are fighting for, light filtering through stained glass windows, a castle looming in the distance, ruins of an empire who truly believed it would eternal, monsters and demons, who decided they were bad and humans good? Emerald hills, lavender fields, strawberries and sunflowers, summer, surfing, feeling butterflies tickle your stomach, feeling the gentle, salty ocean air on your skin, being outside looking in like you're in a bubble but you can burst that bubble, broken hearts but you heal, the sweet, powerful scent of pine needles in the air, soft, damp moss, magic, dark and light, look what you can do with your mind, a swish of red hair like fire, broken people like beautiful mosaics when they're put together, ravens, their obsidian plumage shining in the setting sun, soon replaced by a twilit scenary, the full moon (isn't she lovely?), the stars, planets swirling all around you when you set your foot into the woods with a bluish, enchanting glow, the lovely scent of rain in the air, the scent of coffee, bakeries, the girl who looks just like autumn, the boy who is pale and looks slightly ill, intending to set the world on fire, sometimes heroes die, the girl is a mere memory, a ghost now, the boy slowly burning, surviving childhood trauma, seeing beauty everywhere, a bustling cobblestone street, a lot of whimsical people, you swear you saw a child riding his father's shoulders had deer antlers protruding from his fluffy, soft hair, like clouds, illusions, nothing seems to be what it seems, you have your guard up at all times, the world can be dangerous but oh, how beautiful it is, making a wish upon dandelions and the stars, you saw a shooting star, hope, picnics, lying down on the grass, tucking a lily in your significan't other's hair, wisteria

A snippet:

A small girl with hair like a raven's plumage sits crosslegged on the hardwood floor of Étoiles estate's grand, darling library. There is a heavy book on her lap. She shuts her eyes. The pictures and the words of the tale dance across her eyelids. "Is it real?" a whisper escapes her lips. "Or just in my head?" Her eyes flutter open. Tiny figures, like shadows swirl on the yellowish paper. The girl watches them in deep fascination. "Define real", a voice reverberated around the room. Sunlight pours in the stained glass windows above the girl. The light dies the girl's delicately beautiful face in shades of cyan and indigo. A strange noice comes from the rafters. In alarm, the girl glances up. Something white and furry falls on the book. "Snow Queen", the girl sighs in relief watching as the cat settless on the pages and begins to cleanse herself. "You really startled me", the girl says maybe more to herself than the cat. "Hey, Li, you're not supposed to be reading anything scary." Suddenly wary, Felicia looked up to a pair of sky blue eyes. Henry runs his fingers through his tousled hair watching intently his little sister's reaction. "I know they're just stories", Felicia says defiantly. "They're not real."

"Still." Henry grins. "You wouldn't want to disobey orders, would you?" He takes a step closer which causes Felicia to flinch involuntarily. Behind her from the shelf, Henry reaches out and slides a book out. Felicia flinches as a sharp pain invades her back. "Oh, I'm sorry." But Henry wasn't sorry. He never is. It's never an accident either. Felicia leaps to her feet, leaving the book she was reading on the floor. With a few strides she's out of the room.

Henry watches as a raven flew over the pine trees. He regards his surroundings with ease like what he's about to do is a routine. Something a million people do every day. He flips through the pages of the book he's holding. Ah, what a blessing finding the book had been and he had found it in the library of his new family's home. His fingers hovered a few inches away from a sketch. It was an intricately drawn symbol with curlicues and inky swirls on yellowish, ancient paper. Light green, like the forest in the early spring when the sunlight pours in with silent, soft whispers, fog like vapour dances underneath Henry's fingers. He closes his eyes and lets the book guide him. He knows he's close to the clearing. He kneels down his fingers meeting the soft, mossy earth. "I seek thee", he breathes. "I seek thee." The ground vibrates slightly. Henry's hands curl into fists. Eerie, white fog rises from the ground. Henry's eyes flutter open but this time they're not the colour of the sky on a bright summer's day, they're pitch black. Why are you summoning me? The voice reverberates in tree branches and sends startled birds flying from them. You're just a puny human. "I'm not a human." Henry tenses up. "I want to be powerful." He sticks a crystal into the earth. It sends up a ripple or a crack through the dirt. "I want to find her."

Feel free reblog or repost any of my original posts, just give credits!

Send me asks or messages if you want to know more about me or my book✨

A link to a playlist that's basically a soundtrack for my books <3

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1SHlb1UdhQnflDmB3QdPbE?si=abb119b0b08e4680

#original character #original story #fiction #fantasy #victorianshannon #original characters #wip #horror #adventure #romance #wattpad #wattpadstories #writerblr #writer #comedy #my writing

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faolanmoon · 3 years

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Hi! I saw your requests are open. Could i maybe ask for a yandere basil x reader headcannons or even a short story if you have enough time, if not thats ok!^^

~Yandere Basil x Reader Headcannons ~

Basil is definitely the delusional and insecure type of Yandere. Delusional in the sense of his countless fantasies he has about you, but definitely lacking a lot of confidence to act upon them, at first. However I can see him eventually finding the motivation to build up confidence somewhere along the line.

In fact, he probably fell for you after you boosted his self esteem! Something as simple as complements, standing up for him or even supporting him seems to be enough for to want more. All he wants is to feel valid and happy after all! Like a moth to a light, the way you make him feel happy and valid, he begs to more until eventually all he wants is you. You become his everything, the sunshine a plant desires to survive. Eventually Basil starts to believe he can’t even breathe without you! What if someone tries to snatch you away from him? Take his sunshine away? He soon starts to realize he doesn’t want to lose you, or worse you leave him, and slowly but surely starts to obsess over you.

He is without a doubt the least intimidating one out of the main gang on the outside, after all no one would suspect Basil of all people to be, acting would they? No one would think Basil could ever be an envious stalker, right? Well that’s exactly what throws off anyone unlucky enough to deal with his more envious side. He knows people think he’s some sort of pushover, a coward who’ll just burst into tears and run home to cry into his pillow over not having you, oh he knows. He has ears, after all and with him following you around like a puppy, he’ll eventually catch on.

Basil would 100% act all shy and fragile around any romantic rivals, when you or anyone else is around. But when it’s just him and the rival alone , no more Mr.Nice Guy, straight up bamboozles them with violence, no remorse either. After all he’s fallen for his delusion that he’s the only one who you can love, and he’s the only person who can have you. Those romantic rivals? They’re just trying to steal you, steal your love! And he can’t have that! Your love is his, and his only! No one is allowed to take that away!

Almost all attempts at stalking you are masked as him just wanting to hang with you, or him being worried about you, so you can’t help but feel guilty if you leave him out. He just seems so nice! No way he’s acting, it’s too convincing! He just really cares deeply about you!

Would meltdown if rejected, breaks down crying so much it’s like you’re being guilt tripped into wanting to possibly get with him. You can’t help but feel guilt over breaking his heart, so you end up blindly agreeing to possibly give him a chance so he doesn’t have to be heartbroken. Would him crying be an act? Probably not with how much he wants you so badly and is convinced you’re meant to be his and only his. There better not be anyone getting in the way!

Any sort of positive attention only feeds his desires and delusions even farther, regardless on if you’re aware of it.

Definitely would lose his shit and unhinge if you had to move. Move? Away from HIM? Oh hell no! He’s not having it, at all,and would definitely and I mean definitely consider kidnapping as a necessary evil for you two to be together. Such a necessary evil he might need some help. He might ask Kel to help carry you if you’re taller than him after he’s found a way to make you fall unconscious. Now Kel might be dense but he’s not completely stupid, he’ll just think it’s weird how come you’ve become unconscious and why Basil insist that you be carried to wherever Basil is keeping you,he’s also just a tiny scared to question him.

There’s no way Basil would let you go at that point, he’s become too desperate to let you suddenly slip away. Definitely would become a lot more possessive over you. Don’t try to run away now! If you do he’ll just convince Kel and Sunny to help him find you, they just see someone their friend loves running from him for no reason! And you wouldn’t want them to pressure you into being with Basil, would you? Surely you want Basil to be happy? Why would you be so cruel to deny him from that? Please just stay with him and be happy together with him, why’s that so difficult? Kel would just be somewhat passive aggressive, just a tiny bit when trying to convince you to stay with Basil, Sunny on the other hand is a lot more threatening without even trying to be nor realizing.

And if you don’t try escaping, aren’t moving and don’t keep making him think he’s going to lose you, and he gets what he wants, he’ll just be the happiest, most affectionate person of an. After all, he’s finally gotten what he wants, to be with you!

#reader insert #yandere #omori basil #basil x reader #Yandere basil #yandere x y/n #yandere headcanons #yandere x darling #Yandere Omori #headcannons #darling

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yostresswritinggirl · 3 years

Text

Antinomy

Part 2; things are brewing. VIBE

“Do you know the spiritual meaning of 11? What about in numerology? You’ll find it quite intriguing, funny even… until it starts making sense.” You’ve witnessed and harnessed the way and days he had grown to be; this fic enumerates the trials of the 11th before he became a Harbinger under your care. From strangers to mentor to friends to love- Childe made a grave mistake, now you’re once again strangers.

Pairing -> Childe x Harbinger!Fem!Reader

Word Count -> 5217

Themes -> Friends to admirers, mentor, fluffy, suddenly ANGST

Series -> #Sojourner Specials (600 Followers Event) Part 1

Warning -> Blood and injury

Maybe it was stubbornness, his unhinged desire for the thrill of a fight, or you mistaken misguidance. Many possibilities, really, but Childe knows it had nothing to do with all of those. You're not to blame for his mistakes, but he sure as hell would have to pay for the mess he just created.

vi. fontaine

The show felt like a dance made to lure and trance such audience, and despite his resolve and difference in agendas, the strong Harbinger had been victim to the beauty of the show. Of swaying thin clothes and alluring flicks of the hips.

“We’re not co-workers, we don’t know each other, remember that.”

Tambourines and lyres synced through the performance as men and women alike cheered and stumbled to the songs. The Snezhnayan dancers set the bar high in terms of beauty as the Fatui disguised as performers indulged the crowd in symphony and dance, as if the whole nation was under a mania, no one saw and no one heard. They just followed lead as the agents lulled their own targets into a sense of security and joy.

In the middle of the crowd you lead the choreography as the main dancer, distinguished by the colors of your garb and its grandiosity, yet still respectably covered compared to the other performers. Your main objective was to catch the havoc of a man that left the headquarters of your organization in flames at his wake; and yet, it was instead Childe that was allured to your spell.

An intoxicated man had been eyeing your behind with drooling eyes for a while now, and with the assistance of liquid courage, he reached his hand out to get a feel- when it landed on gray pants of firmness. “Oh my, I didn’t know you swing that way, citizen,” you whipped around to see Childe directly behind you, who was also has his head angled to look behind him where a Fontaine man stumbled back in disgust. His hand clutched to his chest as if it were burned. “Sad news tho, I’m off the table, try someone else maybe.”

Before you can register the edge in his voice, he was already guiding you by the hand back to your dancing stride. You were momentarily stunned but devolved into a glare at his current recklessness, “Come now, Lady Viscaria.” He addressed you by your dancer name. “The whole world is high in the clouds around us, this would be a moment no one will remember.” You didn’t even need to look to know he was right, and you succumbed with a sigh.

Childe didn’t realize just how small your hands are compare to his, the softness of it in contrast to the rough texture of his gloves. If he knew, if only he knew, he would have removed them before you had entertained the idea. Your steps were lithe and your turns were grace manifested, eyes closed yet a gentle smile equipped on your face, the ones you had been wearing ever since you started the performance. “So this is how you fight.” He mumbled with his own grin when he had spun you back against his form, your feet glides against the pavement yet barely touching it as you seemingly floated to place. If he hadn’t known better he would have thought you were an Anemo Vision wielder.

Soon enough the square dissipated to give way to the ferocious dance you two had eased into. Steps became more pointed, arms tensed and strong, and the turns was almost reminiscent of martial arts as you seemingly evade each other’s swings. Suddenly a kick aimed to hit his chest forced him to jump back, and at the other side you dropped your foot, a taunting smirk and a condescending gaze set upon him. His blue eyes widened.

And the elegance of the tango from earlier turned into a vicious round of capoeira, powerful kicks and jumps yet not made to touch each other. Your figure leaped into a crescent kick when he had made a sweep to hit your ankles, him immediately rolling to the side to evade the blow. Dropping to the ground with your ankles and knees bent, a leg outstretched you gasped, and went into a running start towards him, “Lift!” A single command yet he knew what he needed to do.

Gripping your hips upon your leap his strong arms easily eased you high up, your legs were kicked high up and one bent farther back and you steadied yourself by gripping on to his shoulders. The atmosphere turned tense and the only sound you can hear were the ragged breaths you heave up close. And the crowd around then explodes into a round of applause.

Childe seemed to have snapped out of a trance from the foreign noise, breaking the eye contact you both held as he slowly placed you down. There was a sudden bashfulness to him then. But was once again pulled away from his reverie when you quite literally pulled him out of the square into a dark alley, eyes glinting dangerously as a toothy smirk donned your lips, “I saw him, the redhead.”

...

The chains felt sentient. As it flies forward to try and capture him, Childe conjured a wave to sweep it away only for it to change angles to strike at him again. It pierced through the pavement he was once on before it moved to retract back to the owner. At the other side, Childe had a glimpse of your more successful fight with the fugitive as your polearm easily deflected the advances of the chains, even if it gets caught sometimes. Your Cryo Vision would always make quick work of freezing and breaking the chains.

None of you expected a non-elemental fight, and this seemed more complicated of a battle than you would have thought. The man carried with him the aura you feel when you use your delusion, you grimly thought as you ducked out of another barrage, sensing the frustration and desperation of the enemy. You were barely breaking a sweat, you’d see his red eyes take notice, and you weren’t even using both of your hands to fight. With another smirk, your Vision then glowed by your side as you raised your arm. The hooded man braced for impact, but instead he felt a force hit his lower half- water current from Childe, and suddenly it solidified to ice upon your avalanche. His hand where the strange device were also covered to render him useless.

An arrow and a spear’s tip was now aimed to his heart. “Well, well, that was a nice fight, Ragnvindr,” you leaned down close enough to see the finer details of his hawk mask, you saw his eyes squint into a glare. He knows he lost. By your side Childe relaxed his arms and dematerialized his bow, the next part should be yours to work on. “Thank you for your dedication, but this atrocity ends now.” You straightened your back and took a step back, angling your spear to his throat. As his eyes close to succumb to death, your head would angle itself slightly to see Childe’s reaction

when a golden flicker appeared past his shoulder.

“CHILDE!” The devil himself felt the air leave his lungs at the force that punched at his chest, enough to immobilize him as he was punted to the ground. Before he could even recover, the pavement around shifted and crumbled to create a wall between him and the frozen Diluc. He heard the ice breaking and two pairs of feet scrambling away. “Fuck, he had an accomplice,” he breathed as he took his stand, about to give chase to the escapees. That is until he registered his mentor-

barely standing with a stalagmite pierced through her stomach.

“Chi...lde.” You gripped the pointed tip of the structure to keep yourself up as your legs started to lose feeling. He was there hovering over you, unsure where to touch or how to assist. Fuck. Fuck. This was his fault. “Go... chase, I’ll be- I’ll be fine...”

And then you blacked out.

vii. seven correspondence

There were multiple parchment of the same color littering his office desk filled with different lengths of paragraphs. Childe's quarters in the palace was cozy and wide, and nothing could be heard but the sound of his fountain pen scratching the surface of the paper with ease.

"Letters are important in Snezhnaya," you perked up from your unfocused gaze from his window, where you silently watched the brewing blizzard manifesting outside. Your eyes made contact with his genuinely gentle ones that still lingered at the task at hand, "why not write one?"

"Letters are commonplace in Snezhnaya," you corrected as you made your way to his side to snoop in his letters. He did not seem to mind. After all you'd pretty much already the whole of his family that one awkward encounter. He was working on the seventh letter and your eyes lingered around the six finished ones: there was one for each younger siblings, one meant for the two older brothers, another for the older sister, and one for his parents. "It's not necessary for me to write, I don't have an address in mind to begin with."

Is that so, he mumbled under his breath before the conversation died down once again to little scratches. A lot of his words had tales to tell about his stay in Fontaine, you realized the most details were poured into the contents for his parents. At the mention of this nation, your hand ghosts over your stomach.

The bandages from long ago had already been dispatched. And yet the stiffness of it has still affected your composure as well as the weird pull of the skin from the stitches. Only a nasty scar was left in its wake to remind you of the failed encounter and it forced you to make drastic wardrobe changes to your performing attire.

You saw Childe's shoulders slightly tense at your action.

"Childe," his grip on the pen tightened yet he kept his head down. You didn't mind. His mind was going overdrive again, probably. "Who are you writing that last letter for?"

He felt like he'd dodged an arrow over the way he had relaxed, slumped down even when he met eyes with better resolution within it. "It's for a special someone," his signature smile was back, "I've met her long ago and I've always made sure to send her a letter yearly as thanks."

Thanks? "Thanks?" The letter (it was short, you realized) was already folded before you could peek at the words within. You knew Childe was good-looking, but for him to have a girlfriend waiting for years as he drowns in his work, quite irrational and yet painful. Painful... to you?

"I've met a girl back when I was 14," he was suddenly up and bustling as he bundled up his letters. Urgent you followed to listen to his tale as best as you can with his long legs. "I never knew her name or her face, but she saved me from the wolves back in Morepesok. I never properly gave her my thanks, so yearly I would leave letters at the woods where she'd gone, and hope that she'll be able to read them and know that I lived because of her." You already halted your advances to chase after him as you stood before the doors of the Palace. He didn't seem to mind, he kept going until he was gone.

...Morepesok was a seaside fishing village with a vast white forest by the edges in which ferocious wolves and bears usually haunt. After your promotion to the Palace, you had never once set foot in the village, much less the woodland. Where you are right now.

You held a steady hand against your stomach as you retraced the familiar route you'd gone, something so far away you would have expected to forget it by now. That was six years ago, you counted as you reached the clearing in horror of its emptiness, there should be six letters here by now.

A snapping twig had you whirling to look behind you. "So, it really was you." His gentle blue orbs had met your widened ones, breathless you both were, but for different reasons.

"So you lied about the letters," the mocking pout on your lips had made him laugh. A sprinkle of red dusts his cheeks, and he was quick to hide it with the familiar letter on his hand.

"I didn't lie about this one," your upturned palms received the crispy envelope, carefully opening the seal and unfolding its contents, "I wanted to make sure I was right."

'Your sacrifice had given me a new chance, a new life, a new beginning. I wish I was there to thank you for protecting me, but this time, I will get stronger and make sure-'

"I'll be the one protecting you from now on." He finished, and the red dust over your own cheeks felt like torches made to melt the mightiest icicles.

viii. fleeting glances

Signora had always been the type of person to only make appearances when necessary, but most of her dirty work were done by her subordinates, her own little army. She's the coordinator and observer at the back as things were weaved into place for her. Like a flower on the wall, the Fair Lady knows and notices details.

The first one was by the entrance, the second was by the veranda. The third, fourth and fifth were by the hallways. The sixth was by the throne room. The seventh was outside. And the eight was that in front of her—

Childe disliked being in the same area or even breathing space as her, this much Signora knew. He was a kid still under training over the ways of the Fatui, but there was nothing more he hated than the way the Fair Lady handles her work, her soldiers. But it came with the aesthetic, and he had no other means to pry until he had finally grasped the way the cogs turn in this organization known as the Fatui.

The youngest Harbinger never looked her directly in the eye or even dare spare her the glance when it was not needed. And in all honesty, it was quite bothersome the first few times. After all, Tartaglia carried with him a certain charm.

His eyes would either narrow or be guarded for any other Harbinger that comes his way, respectful or dismissive, the options fleet through those whenever. But there was one humane and warm look he gives at special occasions, for a special someone, and Signora finally witnessed it in full view and detail—

The crease between his eyebrows would immediately ease as his eyes break free from its squinted, slanted form. The dark depths at the middle would dilate as his expression quirks up, teeth usually visible through parted lips as he dons an easy smile. And Signora would be taken aback by the immediate change as she follows the trail of his stare.

The gold was the first to strike with the way the trinkets hang by the waist, and the warm and mellow colors so contrary to the Fatui colors draws away the unease of onlookers. It was to make sure that no association with the Fatui would be made, that was your calculated explanation was upon your choice of 'uniform.' You've just came from a short trip to Natlan to gather all data to be reported to the Tsaritsa, and during that time the 11th had been under no one's particular care.

You passed by their forms (pass is a strong word, they were off to the far side, honestly) with your report in hand, humming to yourself as you continued your way to the throne room. That demeanor only means that you had good news to tell, good news for everyone.

The glance was gone fast as the moment ended, and his hard look came albeit much lighter this time. But the way Signora smirked signified she'd noticed, and his look only grew stiffer.

"Come now, pretty boy, show that look often."

The Fair Lady's laugh echoed inside the Palace walls as Tartaglia stomps off to where you had gone, to wait after the dusk convention respectfully.

ix. years of employment

Of the many milestones that could have been celebrated, it was done in an odd number at the most peculiar time. Yes, it is no surprise for everyone to know that you had been working for the Fatui for nine whole years now. And honestly, you shouldn't have been surprised that your younger colleague with the weird ways of his Abyss-induced brains, decided that it was time your anniversary be celebrated instead of waiting another year for the double digits mark.

"Please tell me we're not going to your house again," you softly pleaded as Childe continued to guide you through the paths in the main city of Snezhnaya. "As much as I appreciate their caring atmosphere, I'm not too keen on the idea of pretending to be the head honcho of the toy-selling company of Snezhnaya."

To this, Childe guffawed to a boisterous laugh, pulling his hand away from your back to clutch at his convulsing stomach. You pursed your lips in distaste of his reaction, but then it would loosen up to a smile as you watched him still try to catch his breathe.

After that, the trip had continued with only small chatter in between as you descended further to the edges of the city. You haven't been to this area, simply because of the fact that there were no patrols needed around the cityless wasteland where you are headed, and the glint of surprise had fixed a knot at Childe's back. Relief painted his face.

And you found yourself in front of a frozen lake, with hanging lights decorating the leafless trees by it, and a small table filled to the brim with food. "Lady toyseller!" You shot a glare at your student who averted his gaze away easily to focus on his other siblings. This heretic lied—

"Big brother said it's a special occasion! To commemorate your anniversaries for being in the toyselling business!" Your glare died down to a look of confusion, and the family gathered back into a homely atmosphere. So it seems that Childe coincidentally joined the Fatui the same day as you, two years apart. And he said nothing about it.

"We've been celebrating since the last three years, if we had known, you could have been with us!" And with that you were pulled in by Tonia to the table where her mother was, congratulating you for your hardwork and patience as she offers you to taste some of the food they had brought for the picnic.

"I know you've been helping my son ever since he became a Harbinger," you looked up to Childe's mother in wonder as your mouth was currently stuffed with her delicious homemade Pelmeni. She gave a light laugh at the sight of your wide, curious eyes paired with stuffed cheeks. "Childe mentioned how you saved him when he ran away from him..." and the mother continued to spill the details you were never given the chance to hear from the man himself.

You suppose this was the cause of your perfectly crafted aura of trust, to lure in your targets and make them spill to their heart's contents as you indulge them. In the end, Childe's mother's true intention was to thank you for all that you had done for her son, and to help him cultivate into the best person he could be among the ranks of the Harbinger. You gulped the last bits of the dumpling, a shy smile placated on your cheek, "It is my honor to take him under my wing."

"Hey, master, I sure hope mum didn't say anything embarrassing about me while I was gone!" A hand holding a tissue softly wiped the cream at the edge of your lips as Childe- Ajax finally made his way over to your table.

"It's okay, really, it's normal for children to pee their bed." You mused as Childe's mother laughed at the way her son choked over his own spit. Ah, you were right.

The rest of the day was filled with ice-skating, something you have forgotten, clumsily held up by the three younger siblings as they expertly excelled in the field. And right after was a session of ice fishing with their father, who was greatly impressed by your strength upon reeling the 50-centimeter long tuna. Flopping on to the ice platform as if to chase the children on land.

"Don't want to stay? There's a spare room here, you can borrow my big sister's clothes for the night. It's a long way back to the Palace," he stood next to you outside the entrance of his home while you face the other direction.

You sighed. "Tartaglia, I'm your mentor. And as the 10th Harbinger, your ascension should be my priority." You didn't see the way his jaw clenched at the intonations of your words. "If it were a different circumstance-"

"Next week," the snow caught on to your lashes as you closed your eyes, basking at the cold that bites at your cheeks. "Will be my last try. And after that, please see me as your equal."

"Alright." Your hands trembled.

x. final spar

Fatuus lined the veranda surrounding the quadrangle in quiet anticipation, skirmishers and agents alike that had yet to be assigned under Harbinger supervision and even those who just had nothing better to do.

Childe had anticipated the spotlight, but it was a greater scale he was not comfortable on. He was lucky a Harbinger had yet to watch the spar, the last spar as he had promised, and it seemed the gossip had spread enough to alert the whole organization. The Delusion mask sat by the side of his hair as he watched you at the other end of the field.

Your eyes held no emotion as they stared through his soul. A different kind of emotion he'd have wanted to see. He thinks to himself at the thought of you once being in the same predicament as him, did you feel the same fear and worry as he did? Did it take you ten tries? Maybe more, maybe less?

Tartaglia said this will be the last spar, and the final chance for both sides to make it a fair fight (to give it their all). But when you suddenly disappeared and materialized above him with your spear ready to strike, he thought, maybe not this time either.

The spear collided with the dirt floor as blades of winds seem to have exploded from it, a series of gasps resounding through the crowd as they stepped away from the edge. Tartaglia softly landed back on his feet after the successful somersault, materializing his water polearm to strike his elemental slash from the distance. But you stood still, unscathed as the wave that was meant to slice you turned into ice before it could come any closer. Fuck, Tartaglia knew his Vision was weak to yours.

You charged at him once again with the boost of your Anemo delusion, your polearms clashing painfully as you both tried to get hits on each other. There was a nick at this cheek to draw the first blood, your dominant hand twirling the spear easily Tartaglia retreats back to avoid the wildly spinning blade.

Soon enough he dons his own mask and the real fight begins. Electric currents ran through the field as an icy fog starts to envelop the floor, superconduct reaction running the parameter of the field as the Fatuus back away further. The next time your blades meet, a crackle of lightning resounded through the whole palace. Smacking his blades upward, your spear quickly sweeps down to swipe at this ankles, forcing him to leap as the fog obscures the reach of your polearm. Mid-air, he was kicked on the chest as your acrobatic arms held you up and over.

Soon enough his hunger for victory begins to manifest, and his biggest advantage comes into play: overwhelming strength.

Tartaglia felt huge triumph when you finally used both of your hands to parry his blows, your feet sometimes sinking into the dirt floor under the pressure of his attack. For the first time in the fight, your facade cracked with a grimace as you held your polearm up against his dual blades. Quickly leaning away, you brought your foot up and pushed at the spear's shaft, enough to force him back as you leaped out of his range. There was sweat trickling at the back of your neck now, feeling the sizzle of the current on the slight moisture. You swiped your spear in a crescent motion as a snow avalanche bombarded Tartaglia's side when he tried to approach, giving you just enough time to breathe as he tries to free himself under the snow.

By the time he's set himself free, you were already running forwards with your hands gripping your spear at your right for a swiping motion. He fashions his dual blades as he too sprinted in the middle to clash, weapons encased with frost and electricity. In a split second, his arms raised to your left, knowing this was your non-dominant side would make it easy to send you flying at the angle of approach. A powerful blow against another was about to shake the whole Palace—

"Columbina!" The vagrant's voice pierced through the crackle of elements, and Tartaglia's eyes widened when he had noticed your foot slip at the distraction. The inertia of his arms unable to stop the course of action; superconduct and electro-charged reactions creating a powerful explosion as the iced fog seem to have imploded from the force.

Childe's moist hands trembled as his vision tries to refocus. There's a ringing in his ears as he tries to grip at his hands, the electricity coursing through his nerves to make it numb. He desperately closed and opened his fists, and when he finally settled his sights straight, the dripping red liquid had splattered all the way to his mask and arms. With hesitation his sights followed the trail of blood and frost splayed across the field barely visible as the mist still covered the floor with a thin veil, his steps halted at the sound of glass crunching underneath his shoes, and he didn't need to look to know what it was.

"GET THE MEDIC NOW, PREPARE THE INTENSIVE CARE UNIT!" Pedrelino's voice reverbed through the field as the few agents that finally recovered from the shock went into emergency actions, some running off and some running to the direction of where the blood trail ends.

There was an obvious pool of blood forming under you, as your whole torso was littered with the same redness. Your left ribcage was angled inwards in an anomalous way as the dual blades had logged itself in between the ribs. You were already unconscious as blood dripped from the side of your lips;

how unfortunate, Childe collapsed to his knees in front of you. You didn't get to congratulate him.

xi. eleventh of the fatui harbinger

His mission had been explained to him concisely and accurately alongside Signora's assignment right after he had been acknowledged as officially part of the Fatui. The throne room had itself full of the Harbingers (with a glaring absence of one) as the Tsaritsa empowered him with her will and concise plan, the gravity of the law and order of the universe and its incoming divine war finally weighing on his shoulders. It was, after all, his wish to end the ministrations of being under someone's supervision and finally walk his path of conquering.

A month after the fight had him standing by the piers of the Snezhnayan ocean. Here he will finally depart to Liyue where his true mission lays, as well as the franchise of the Northland Bank he'd have to oversee. The influx of information for both his and the other's works had his head reeling, pleading silently at the hope that you'd be there to reassure and clarify what exactly he needs to do.

But you're not. In fact, Childe hasn't seen you in the whole month after that fight. He was prohibited from approaching your ward as you were still unstable and fragile to risk; no, everyone was not allowed to enter, he assured himself. He had not seen nor heard you throughout the grieving process of a moment he should have been proud to boast.

During that time, Childe had also adamantly avoided Scaramouche.

He heaved a tired sigh as the consequences weighed his resolve once again, were you still unconscious? Are you still in critical condition or are you recovering? If things ended ever so differently, would you be there next to him to wave him off to his first major assignment? "Liyue, huh, that's a pretty nice nation."

Childe produced a strangled noise when he turned to his right, where you stood, watching the ocean horizon. Your hair was slightly disheveled yet framed your face naturally. There were bandages wrapped all over your torso, peeking out from the sleeves of your unusually covered attire, and your left arm settled on a sling meant to lessen the constraints of your side instead of sporting an actual broken limb. When Childe's calculating gaze settled on your face, you had a calm expression.

"Congratulations, you're finally on your way to your first mission."

"Thank you, although I heard it's quite different from what I'm used to. Besides seafood, too many new customs."

You produced a soft gasp as your eyes widened slightly. Childe stood guard, waiting for you to tell him what was wrong. "I'm a failure of a mentor," what. His eyes watched as you turned to face him (as he did) with an amused glint in your eyes paired by a light smirk. "I didn't get to teach you how to use chopsticks."

His face dropped into a deadpan, before you two harmonized into bouts of varying laughter. Your other hand placed itself on your chest to minimize the vibrations of your giggles, not wanting to put pain into yourself. A flash of hurt recognition passed through his eyes.

"Master, I'm so-"

"(Y/N)." You immediately interjected as you gazed at him past your eyelashes. His breath hitches.

"Ah, (Y/N)," you nodded at his experimental taste of your name and urged him to continue. He opens his mouth before closing it again, a silent debate within the depths of his brain, before his lips parted with a different thought. "Teach me when I come back, please?"

Your eyes widen in surprise and amusement, "I'm sure you'd pick it up easily."

You're not wrong, but he's adamant. "Nah, I'm sure I wouldn't, I heard they're really a handful. I'd rather wait for you."

Giggling again, you raised your mobile hand as he did own, exchanging the most genuine smile. "Okay, pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

I wrote this for two hours straight to the point that my left arm doesn't work anymore....

@moaa @kookieyachi @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @dandelion-dreams @snackgod @rxsalinee

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #childe x reader #genshin impact Childe #genshin impact oneshots #exile.flower #sojourner special #female reader #Harbinger #brrrrt

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itstheimpossibledream · 3 years

Text

Thee Stallion

Word Count: 5,467

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Megan The Stallion, Hotch x Emily Prentiss

Summary: I’m trying something new, the writing style, the character type and fandom all a bit different than my usual stories so please lmk what you think ! So this first part is loosely based on Season 3 Episode 17. A Spencer Reaid sexual redemption story of sorts. Spencer’s high school crush grows up to be singer & sex icon Megan thee Stallion but, when a killer sadist and kidnapper enters her circles she turns to Spencer& The BAU for help. The Team ends up going undercover at a sex party and things ensue. I’m aware it the most random pairing on the planet and it didn’t need to happen.But, this is what I wanted to write so like……..suck it???🤷🏾‍♀️Also a Prentiss and Hotch hook up ??? whaaaaat? I know I know I’m unhinged. Enjoy sluts😜Again Feedback is always welcome and requests are open! Please don’t copy or repost my fics without my permission!

"I don't know. Are you sure your parents aren't going to mind?" Spencer asked, nervously biting his bottom lip. He stepped into the doorway of the large home. It smelled clean, he noted that it didn't have the smells of a normal house, it's scents didn't remind him of family but more of a hotel.Scents of maids, glass cleaners and overly expensive clothing filled his nostrils. He wasn't judging her but, to say her parents were filthy rich would be an understatement. Freshman year she moved to Las Vegas, and a week ago Mrs. Baird had asked Spencer if he'd mind tutoring her after school. He played it cool in front of his favorite teacher but, inside his heart had skipped for joy. He never actually expected her to ask him to walk her home. Not that he could consider saying no. No one would be looking for him anyway. As the Vegas sun beat down on them his heart soared, even in the silence.This infact was his cloud nine.He just never expected for the hottest girl in school to admit to wanting to spend time with him,much less for an extended period. Obviously, it was a purely platonic mathematical meeting but, still this was more alone time with a girl he wasn't related to than he had had so far in his life. She headed up the stairs and he followed behind her like a lost puppy, trying with all his might not to look up her incredibly short school-uniform-issued skirt,as she ascended. It wasn't necessarily that she was the most popular girl in school, or the fact that she was the hottest that made him crazy about her, as much as it was the fact that she always smiled at him. She was just nice. The day he met her,Mom was having an episode, a bad one and she forgot to wake him up for school. Much to his surprise this day was also her first day of school, she smiled at Spencer in the office and he made sure to set an alarm knowing he couldn't rely on his mother and was never late to school again. He vowed to himself to never miss that smile if he could help it.

The intricate wooden door swung open into what Spencer could only imagine was the inside of a pepto-bismol bottle, or every girl's dream. The entire room was hot pink and bright, it wasn't what he had pictured for her but then again she was doing many things out of character today.

"Are you sure your parents are okay with me being in your room?" he asked again, just to be on the safe side. She broke into laughter shooting him a look of astonishment that also somehow managed to make him feel as though he had asked a stupid question.

"They never care that there are boys in my room. They're never home." she retorted quickly.

"O." Spencer was surprised by the popping sound his lips made as he said it.

"Why?" she followed up quickly "You've never had a girl in your room before?" she took off her sweater, embellished with the school's emblem and sat it on the back of her color coordinated office chair.

"Ummmmm no." He replied honestly .

"Then you should invite me over sometime." She said, crossing the room to sit on her impossibly large bed.

"O ummm- I don't think that'd be a good idea." he whispered to himself. The room fell silent for a moment and he realized that he had made the moment awkward, she had offered to come to his house, to be in his room and he had turned her down.

"Your uhhhh-Your room is VERY pink." he managed to get out in order to cover the silence. He scratched the back of his head, a visual declaration of his insecurities manifesting and she doubled over in laughter again, finding herself shockingly both amused and turned on by his honesty. Men weren't honest like that, and definitely not with her.

"Pretty observant. I guess that's why you're the smartest kid in the state." She winked. He ignored the wink, it probably wasn't intentional.

"Actually it's just the Tri-state area but......thanks" he trailed off again. This time she didn't try to come up with something to say to make him more comfortable. She allowed him to sit in the silence and shockingly he realized he was less bothered by it. She watched as he fiddled with his hands, the veins in his slender fingers raised to attention. Eventually, She pulled her textbook from her back pack and opened to a problem that she was having trouble with. Spencer watched over her shoulder as she worked through the math on her own. Truthfully, she got farther than he had expected her to. He could tell though that at this part she was stuck, he gave her a second to see if she would catch her mistake.But, he couldn't bare to watch it anymore , reaching down his hand to cover hers, guiding it to write the right numbers. When he leaned in she could smell his cologne, a scent much more mature than that of anyone else their age. She wanted Spencer bad. He had to be avoiding it not to notice.He was actually the first boy she had had in her room that didn't attempt to get her naked the second the door closed behind them. His adams apple bobbed as he finished the last number and she decided to go for it. There was something about the curve in his lip as he smiled down at his math that made her want to jump his bones. She could tell he wasn't the kind of guy you fake an orgasm for. He was someone who wasn't afraid to work at something until they got it right.

"Can you sit in this chair for me?" she asked, slowly running her hand over the seat's back.

"sure." he shrugged, taking the book with him, completely unaware of your intentions. You move to the door and lock it, he was probably a virgin,probably wanted a less risky experience.You straddle his right thigh and his eyes immediately snap up to meet you,when you finally lower yourself onto his leg, he can't ignore it anymore. You feel his body tensing up under you,

"Do you want me to stop?" you say looking directly in his eyes. He had never made uninterrupted eye contact with you for this long but you could see the wheels in his head turning.

"NO!" he says, louder than he had expected to, afterall he was the smartest kid in the entire tri-state area. He knew what you were offering him now. You lean down to kiss him, at first his lips don't move and you wonder if you had completely misjudged him.Then, you feel a hand move to the back of your head as he cradles you to his mouth,pushing back, his tongue fighting for dominance. You slowly began rolling your hips on his leg, leaning in at the top, putting the most pressure on your clit. You could feel him growing hard, and soon enough you were rubbing him through his pants as he exhaled the tiniest moans. You were in love with that sound, and you knew you would do anything he asked you to, as long as he never stopped making it. He was able to lift himself up and move his pants down enough to spring his cock free from his underwear, it was so shockingly confident and unlike him a few minutes prior and you cherished it. You lifted your skirt for him so he could move your underwear to the side and enter you.The entire walk home had felt like foreplay to you anyway, the underwear you were wearing had been soaked through. He looked up at you, eyes heavily lidded and filled with lust. He didn't seem as innocent as he had before entering your room. Swinging your leg to his side so you were fully straddling him, you lowered yourself to him and relished in the intake of breath he had as his tip began exploring your walls.He looked up at you so innocently you couldn't help but moan out his name.

"Shhh. Shh.We don't want anyone to hear you." He whispered before pulling you in for another kiss. You whine into his mouth as he ruts his hips up into you. His hips move with force but, control he's savoring it, not wanting to cum too soon. It was his first time, you wouldn't have held it against him but, god were you glad he was lasting. You were beginning to unravel ontop of him. His nimble fingers worked open the buttons of your shirt as you bounced on him. He reached a hand inside and you were surprised by the warmth of his long hand as he plamed your breast,working your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Oh. my god." you breathed over and over again, as he continued pushing into you. The sensation was much more than you were used to,and you grappled with your emotions as he pushed you over the edge. You were loud, there wasn't even an attempt to hold it in. He pulled back from your mouth, a large smile breaking across his face. He was beaming with pride and while you loved to see how happy your orgasm had made him, you were slightly annoyed to learn that even Spencer was not entirely exempt from succumbing to unnecessary male bravado. You could feel him moving inside you, pulsing his dick against your walls as he watched you come down from your high. He brought your face to his, kissing you deeply as you began to roll your hips onto him again. His gaze is dark and you press your hands down on his chest to adjust yourself as you ride him. He loves watching you,everything from the way you flip your hair, to the noises that escape your throat with each thrust. You kiss his neck, working your lips on the space behind his ear, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he whispers a light "Fuck." in response to your action. He began pushing into you fast and quick , he held you up by your hips allowing himself to slide completely in and out of you. When he controlled your hips it allowed him to push up and bottom out, hitting your deepest point. He moans again, his voice hitting a higher pitch than you had expected and you knew what you were doing to him. He pushed into you for the last time letting out an embarrassingly loud noise as you bounced a bit more, releasing your orgasm all over him. He practically beams up at you , filled with pride. You make out with him again as he slowly softens inside you.

"Do you ummm-want to finish studying or- I can leave if you...." The confidence of the moments before had evaporated and in its wake was the same timid genius as before.

"I'd like it if you stayed." you said, peeling your skin from his and removing the rest of your school uniform while changing into your robe.You walked to your bathroom, splashing water on your face and looking at your reflection. You came back from the bathroom to find Spencer dressed, the chair was placed back near the table and the room looked as though nothing had ever happened. He had the book back in his lap and was reading it intently, or maybe he was just staring down at it to avoid making eye contact with you.

"You can use the bathroom if you want." you smiled at him as you pulled the ties on your robe tighter.

"I'm okay." he said, barely looking up from the text. There was a bang on the door, that got his attention. He looked at you now, his pupils jumping with fear. The knock hit the door again, stronger this time.

"I'm coming." she called shakily. She quickly crossed the room and unlocked the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So that's why they did it?"Derrick said, spinning in his chair again. The bull pen was practically empty but the heat that dripped off of Spencer's lips as he spoke was palpable.

"He really had no choice." Spencer said furrowing his brow. "American society heralds the high school quarterback as the traditional teen alpha male .What was he supposed to do?" he shrugged, clearing his throat.

" He wasn't supposed to bully you, to embarrass you in front of the whole school. He shouldn't have chosen that.It's not your fault his girlfriend chose you." Derek leaned in, he was good at that, the supportive older brother role. It made him feel safer, it made him feel understood and it gave Derek a window into a part of Spencer's life that he was rarely allowed to see.

"And that's why you don't want to help her?" Derek asked but it came out as more of a statement. Spencer returned his gaze to his desk while Derek ogled the woman in Hotch's office.

"Sure had to be good for your ego though."Morgan remarks pleasantly, swinging his chair around again

"Pain and happiness are simply conditions of the ego.Forget the ego. A quote from Laozi."Spencer shrugs, pushing up from his desk.

"Okay but have you seen her music videos?She twerks Spencer."

"I've seen all of them, the same as she's aware of every achievement and degree I've been honored with. We're friends just......from afar." the corner of Spencer's mouth twitched as he finished and Derek couldn't help but pry more, following him to the coffee stand.

"Why?" he pushed " Do you think if you get close to her again something else bad will happen?"

"I don't know." his mouth quirked up again while he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Derek was chuckling to himself while stirring his coffee and Spencer knew he could not wait to tell Garcia.

“What ?” he finally asked unable to ignore Morgan’s chuckles any longer.

“Just never thought you could handle a sister… much less….” he trailed off.

“Shut up Morgan.” he countered quickly , refusing to make eye contact.

Emily crosses the room towards them, perching atop Morgan’s desk. “You guys got any idea what that’s about ?” She asks motioning towards Hotch’s office.

“Spencer’s friend had some coworkers go missing.” Morgan offers, folding his arms in a fake gesture of jealousy towards Spencer, who rolls his eyes.

“Ah. What does she do?”Prentiss asks, always the curious one.

“Real-estate.” Spencer quips quickly before shoving his hands into his pockets and moving past them to leave. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed by her, he truly wasn’t. It was more the time in his life that she reminded him of that he wished to escape.His thoughts were silenced when Hotch announced to the bull pen that they were to meet immediately.

Hotch walked up swiftly behind Prentiss, "Pack and meet back here in 30." Hotch said, throwing the file under his arm. Prentiss looks from Spencer to Derek, and the room becomes silent as they watch Hotch walk away with Megan.

"O We're definitely taking this case." Derek raised his eyebrows and Spencer felt his heartbeat quicken. Okay so he had to be around her again, he could do that. It wasn't as if she was a bad memory. Infact, he associated her with a lot of the positive parts of his teenage years, nothing had really topped losing his virginity.

"Hey guys-" Prentiss said looking up from the file,"you have no idea how fun this case is gonna be." she said, laughing to herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spencer rapped his pen quickly against the notepad before him. The case actually seemed simple to him, she brought good intel, she practically handed them the unsub their only job was to make a clear, fool proof arrest.Dalton Hughes was wanted for kidnapping and forcing women into sexual slavery. Definitely not their usual work but, she had used Spencer’s name to get FBI attention.And while he attempted to hide it well, Spencer could tell Hotch was more than attracted to her.

“Reid and Prentiss you’ll be undercover.” Hotch finished

“ Woahhhh.Wait what?!?!” Spencer exclaimed

“You brought us this case I assume you wanted to be hands on.” Hotch responds directly.

“ I do- I-I just think Morgan would be less obvious.” he pleaded to deaf ears.

“ Gee thanks.” Derek’s dry humor broke the rest of the room into an uproarious laughter.

“Actually, Tall fit black guy in those circles is either a performer or an athlete-regardless he’s got to much charm. He's the kind of guy who walks into a room and everyone knows who he is. You guys need someone who can fly under the radar for this.” she says leaning in on the doorframe. Overhearing their meeting wasn’t intentional, she just wanted to make sure he had relayed the case clearly, plus there was only so much space inside the plane.

“ Great. I’m just the right amount of invisible I guess.” Reid says, faking a smile as he gets up from his seat to pace the aircraft.JJ pats him on the back and you can tell she’s trying to console him but, you know there isn’t much left to console. The rest of the team filed out as you scurried to catch up with Spencer.

“ Did she just profile me?” Morgan asks aloud, a hint of disgust in his voice.

“ Look you know I respect our unspoken bond, and I swear I wouldn’t have come if I had another option.” you say grabbing his arm, pleading for him to look at you. He’d grown a lot since you had last seen him.His muscle tone was becoming as prevalent as his wit.

“ I know.” He admits sternly, his voice is low but sure.

“ I know-I just.I ummmm….” his voice trailed off and you watch as his eyes jumped around, looking everywhere except directly at you. It was impossible for him to be at a loss for words, this silence just meant he wasn’t sure of what he knew he wanted to say. “Can we uhhh-“ he still can’t find the agreeable language before Hotch cuts in.

“We’re all okay with these assignments then?”he asks. He seemed to accept the assorted responses from the room and returned to his reading of the file. Megan quietly excuses herself to go to the bathroom.

"Prentiss was right." Rossi smiles to himself, " I do love this case."

"I just don't see why I'm going undercover in a sex ring instead of Derek." Spencer whispers.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Derek shoots back in mock surprise.Both Prentiss and Spencer burst out in laughter, and even Hotch can't help but smile.

"For what it's worth I'd trade spots with you anyday, pretty boy." Morgan says winking at Spencer.

"We need it to be Reid, he and Megan have a good rapport and I want to build on that.The more natural the relationship looks the better."

"Wait what do you mean relationship?"Prentiss shoots. No one responds, so Prentiss breaks the silence of the jet with an "O.I see......No way.....Well, good for you Reid."

"O my god." Spencer rolls his eyes"can we please just get to L.A. without going through my entire sexual history?"

"Oooooo.So there is a sexual history?" Now, Morgan turns to fully face Reid, clapping him on the back. Prentiss makes a sexual gesture with her hands, and the entire room erupts in laughter again.

"Stop." Prentiss immediately let's up on the joke at Hotch's command.Everyone attempts to hold it in but, after a second of silence Rossi breaks, and the rest of the group can’t help but follow.

“You know, I stripped undercover before.” Prentiss cuts in.

“Oh god. How did I know we were going to go back to that.” Morgan feigns annoyance.

“Good point Emily, you should be paired with Hotch.” Rossi says flippantly.

“That’s fine. We could use Emily’s expertise.” Hotch says, his eyes flaring as he looks down at the file, definitely pretending to read. Clearly it was not fine but, it was more important for him to pretend it was for the sake of the room than not to. Plus, having more agents on the ground was always reassuring.

The plane begins its landing process and Spencer is lost in thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was calm and collected since the second he stepped off the plane to be honest. It wasn't until she slid her her leg on top of his, showing herself off to the dance floor,as he calmly rested his hand on her knee as if nothing out of the ordinary that he had the time to process what was happening."Okay can you see him?" she whispers into his ear. Ofcourse he can see him, ofcourse he was looking at her. Everyone in the room couldn't help but look at her, she was easily the most beautiful woman in any room she walked into. And while she was not the most famous guest at the party, not by a long shot she was, sure to grab attention that way as well. Spencer knew that but,he also knew that this was acting, and while he was good at reading other people's behavior he hoped she wouldn’t judge his behavior by the feeling of him growing under her leg. "Are we going to talk to him now?"

“No ...ummm our job is more to survey. You know keep an eye on everything.” He choked out.

“It’s easier if I have some help.” she smiled. He lightly brushed a finger over the tops of her knees, slowly moving his way up her thigh. It was gentle but, it was teasing enough for her to notice.

“ I’m not against helping, I just didn’t think you’d need it.” he smiled smugly next to you.

“What are you smiling about ?” she asked .

“You know you having an orgasm is not part of the assignment right ?”he avoided looking at her as his hand toyed further up the hem of her dress.

“The assignment was to be realistic. God I thought you were good at school.” she snuck in a kiss on his neck below his ear, like she used to. His breath caught in his throat which he decided to turn into a light cough , thinking that would avoid her detection.

“This collar means I’m a sub.” she said, grinding her butt onto his lap again. He clears his throat. “Implying that you’re my dominant. If this is going to work you have to seem in control.” she whispered the last part in his ear, sending a chill down his spine. His hand flew to her throat, thumb just lightly pressing its way into her air intake , as he pulled her head towards his.

“I know what it means.”his voice was low and stern. Infact, the hardest part in prepping for this case was not telling the rest of the group just how much he actually understood the mission. It’s not uncommon for sadists to take interest in the bdsm and kink community but, he wasn’t going to allow himself to fill his coworkers in on his sexual preferences. She looked fragile like this, his hand around her neck, her legs wide for the whole room, as sexual and commanding as she was she had no issue letting him top her, and he thrived on that power. His first industry sex party was going well as far as he was concerned. She leaned in to kiss him and he let out a disinterested “No.” , looking past her. She didn’t have the time to recover her feelings before he asked “Is there a private room?”

Sure she had been forward with him, but she was shocked by this admission. Maybe he really had let that young, timid version of himself entirely float away.

“Yes. down that hall. Any door on the left.” she steadied her voice, trying not to let her excitement be too obvious. Calmly, he pulled his cuff to his mouth “Our suspect is headed to a back room with a woman in an orange dress.” Her eyes shoot to Hotch and Prentiss, who are in their very own form of a compromising position.It was understated and tasteful but, there was no denying that his hand was in her mouth,as she sucked on his fingers.JJ was right by the door immediately headed towards the room, Spencer slowly got up, and fell in line behind Hotch and Emily kept an eye on the room. In the end, it was JJ’s arrest and Derek and Rossi were outside waiting for her to hand over the perp.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ So what’s your kink?” She asked breaking into a broad smile as a direct result of his uncomfortability. They were supposed to be undercover as strangers,two consenting adults meeting at the party. It’d be naive to pretend as though she never had a crush on Hotch. And even worse for him to deny the attraction as well. For as much time as she had spent with him, it always manages to shock her how he never gave any information unasked. Even as she had spent so much time undercover, she never met anyone in the FBI who would do better with international intelligence than Hotch.

“I don’t have any.”he shrugs crossing his arms across his chest. He hadn’t even taken his jacket off. She snakes her hand inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a buisness card.

“ Okayyyyy Detective Hotcher” she say, turning the card in her hand as she palms her drink. It was whiskey,he had ordered it for the table , he poured it with such care that a part of you envied the whiskey. To be cared for, to have hands like that pour into you.

“Not so thorough for undercover.” you joke with him

“I’ve been very busy.” he replies with, and you can read into it that he is disappointed in himself. Such a master of perfection but, he couldn’t manage to look comfortable on the obviously expensive couch. You stood infront of him , cocking your head to the side as you undid the belt of your wrap dress. It’s silky material rolled off of your body without hesitation and landed safely on the carpet, revealing the lingerie you had so carefully picked out for this mission. You watch as his eyes move from the dress on the floor to your heels and then trace over your body. He seems incredibly still except for the ticking of his watch. You can tell it was expensive but tasteful, not too large or flashy.He allowed you to walk toward him. You straddled him lightly, lowering yourself down onto him. You felt him exhale as his hands came to your lower back, a warmth spread throughout your body as his hands lightly rubbed your back . You rocked your hips forward and his eyes flashed up to yours. He fit his hands in the crease of your hips as you roll back and forth on his lap. His breath hitches, just enough for you to hear and you smirk knowingly at him.

“ Everyone has a kink agent Hotchner.” His eyes sparkle up at you. You can feel the twinge of interest, skirting his thought.

“Stop using my real name.” he corrects her sternly, her eyes challenging him

“So what’s yours ?” He turns his chin up to you, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. Your fingers begin working at his tie, and as you roll your hips forward again you can feel his member growing under you.

“ I think that’s convincing enough.” He grunts, trying to remove himself from under you but, you cradle his hand and look into his eyes as you redirect it to your core.His hands immediately go to work as if he held no validity to his previous statement. You grind down on his fingers a little more.

“ You’re attracting a lot of attention now, I think-“ his whispered pleas were cut off as you bent close to his ear “ I thought I was the on-the-ground-professional in this case? I thought you needed my what was it ‘extensive experience’?” Hotch allowed himself to laugh at the use of a direct quote.

“So getting me hard in a room full of people proves that?”he retorts quickly.

“No”, she replies calmly continuing to ride his fingers while nonchalantly drawing circles on his chest.

“ But it does ensure that you’ll think of me the next few times when you’re alone. You will have wished you fucked me.And that’s even better.” She smiled, removing Hotch’s fingers and slowly seating herself next to him. He swung his arm over her shoulder and she brought his fingers to her mouth,placing them on her tongue.He shivered but, watched intently as she sucked on his fingers until he heard Spencer over his ear feed. The subject had headed for a private room, she was aware of the energy change and as Hotch moved towards the perp she, expertly blended into the crowd of other confused onlookers.

Within an hour of interrogation Rossi got him to reveal the location of the girls he was keeping captive. Soon after, Derek led a unit to retrieve them. It wasn’t their flashiest case but, it definitely gave everyone a warm feeling to go home with. Something the team hadn’t had in a long while. They stood in the lobby of the hotel, everyone with their own secrets,everyone trying to pretend that that wasn’t one of their more challenging missions. Everyone seemed different, quieter somehow; how’s that for a team building exercise Spencer found himself thinking.

“I’m uhhh-” he attempted to break the silence.

“Just go Spence!” the group responded in unison, almost comically.

“Wait. wait.” he stopped at Rossi's command and turned back accepting his handshake, the older agent clapped him on the back and smoothly slid a small stack of condoms into his hand.

“Go get em’ tiger.” he huffed under his breath, and Spencer couldn’t help but laugh to himself, as he turned on his heels to leave.

His heart raced as he entered the elevator, he wanted to shower, plan his outfit, his words; he wanted to tell her how much he wanted her, how much he had held back for years. His keycard slid into the door, he pushed it open and could barely make out the figure in the dark. Instinctively reaching for his gun,it wasn’t until he heard Megan call out his name that he was brought back to safety.

“Jesus, don’t kill me Spencer.”she laughed

“You could have been an intruder.”he laughed in agreement of how ridiculous it all was.

“Do most of your intruders dress like this?”She stood up so he could see, she wore a garter clearly visible below her much outgrown private school issued uniform skirt. The heels and his own opened buttoned down shirt completed the look that he was sure would drive him to his grave.

“Shit.” he exhaled, covering his face with his hand as she closed the door as well as the space between them; extending her hands to his pants. She could feel he was hard through his khakis, god only Spencer could get away with wearing khakis at an industry event.He quickly swatted her hand away, pulling her face to his. He pushes her against the wall, feeling her curves, feeling her warmth , feeling for the first time untouchable since that day in highschool.

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i-am-bitterly-jittery · 3 years

Text

Tally Marks

Based on this post which I would highly recommend looking at first because I will not be providing you the context

Word Count: 1850

Rating: Teen (for exactly 1 innuendo)

Pairing: none

Warning: none

~~~START~~~

As the logical Side, Logan was, well, logical.

That being said, he was really not sure what the logical explanation for this would be.

For months now — perhaps even years — tally marks had been appearing in Logan’s hands, arms, and sometimes even his face. Due to the manner in which the tally marks appear, Logan was pretty sure he was the one making them, but he couldn’t remember ever doing it. It reminded him of the Silence in Doctor Who, but the Silence weren’t real — and even if they were, he certainly wouldn’t be encountering them inside Thomas’s mind. Still, the marks remained unexplained.

<(^.^)>

Logan was awoken by a knocking at his door. It was the middle of the night, and while he was irritated at the interruption of his sleep cycle, he understood that sometimes Patton or Roman had nightmares, and as the logical Side, he was the logical choice to dispel any lingering fear.

He did not find Patton or Roman on the other side of his door.

“Logic,” the unknown Side wheezed. He was shaking as badly as Patton usually did after a nightmare, hunched in on himself and clutching a black hoodie around himself tightly.

Without even thinking about it, Logan pulled out a pen and made a mark on his hand.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Logan asked, making the decision to act as though he had found Patton behind the door. He could learn more about this new Side once he’d calmed down.

The Side nodded, lifting his head for the first time and allowing Logan a glance at a pair of mismatched eyes and tear tracks of eyeshadow running down his face.

“Would it help you to tell me about it?” Logan asked.

“T-Thomas,” the Side gasped, barely managing to get the one word out. “Thomas was- he was in the middle-” the Side did a full body shutter which seemed to cause more tears to stream down his face. “He was lost in th-the middle of a-a city and he couldn’t h-hear me, a-and he got h-hurt.”

Logan nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure of the identity of the Side, but Patton’s nightmares often centered around having an inability to help Thomas — or worse, be a hindrance to him — so Logan could assume that this Side was meant to protect Thomas in some way from the imagined situation. Roman’s nightmares — as creativity — featured many more monstered and imagined things.

“Thomas is not lost,” Logan assured the Side. “He is at home. He is safe. His doors are locked. And when he needs you, he will hear you.”

The Side sobbed again before launching himself into Logan’s arms.

Physical affection did not come naturally to Logan, but living with Patton and Roman certainly gave him plenty of time to study it and gain hands-on experience. He wrapped one arm securely around the Side’s back, and allowed his free hand to card slowly through the Side’s hair — this usually calmed Roman down, Patton on the other hand preferred two-armed hugs, as tightly as Logan could manage. The Side seemed content with Roman’s method as Logan felt him slowly but surely relax under his ministrations.

“Thanks, Logic,” the Side pulled away after a few minutes, looking infinitely calmer than when Logan had opened the door.

“Of course,” Logan acknowledged. “Though I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

“I know you don’t,” the other Side chuckled sadly. Logan did not get it. “My name is Anxiety. I’ll see ya later, teach.”

Anxiety turned and left down the hallway. Logan watched him for a moment, considering how the Side’s function as Anxiety probably left him vulnerable to many nightmares.

When Logan finally closed the door and turned to head back to bed, he’d completely forgotten why he’d opened the door in the first place.

Perhaps he had heard a noise coming from the hall? Yes, that was probably it; he’d heard a noise and thought it might be Patton or Roman with another nightmare.

He didn’t notice the tally mark until the next morning. By then, he’d forgotten about getting up in the middle of the night.

^(^.^)^

“Oh Logan!” An unfamiliar — but distinctly Thomas-like — voice called from behind the logical Side.

Logan turned to find a Side with snake scales covering half of his face holding a bowler hat in his hands and staring at Logan questioningly from farther down the hall.

“Can I help you?” Logan asked, adding another tally mark.

“What do you think about bowler hats?” The Side asked, lifting the hat a little in emphasis.

“Bowler hats — also known as derby hats — originated in the mid nineteenth century as a way to protect gamekeepers in England from overhead tree branches,” Logan recited tonelessly.

“Yes, but what do you think of bowler hats?” The Side stressed.

“Bowler hats were particularly popular in early twentieth century pop culture and thus are an effective accessory to make an outfit seem more old-fashioned.”

The Side chuckled.

“You’re very bad at fashion advice,” he said. “But I think I’ll keep the hat.”

The Side placed the hat on his head and stared at Logan expectantly. A bowler hat is a perfectly respectable style of hat. Logan told the Side as much; the Side only laughed a bit more.

“You are an absolute delight, Logan, but I suppose you’re my only option, after all, you won’t remember this later.”

Logan stared down the empty hallway towards his room. That was odd, he was trying to get to the kitchen. He turned around and continued on.

The common space was empty, but Logan expected as much. Patton was out helping Thomas with an issue, Roman would be in his room for hours yet, working on the script for Thomas’ next video and there weren’t any other Sides in the mindscape.

Logan decided on a sandwich for lunch, and resolved to make a couple extra for Patton and Roman. He was just getting the Crofters out when an unfamiliar — but distinctly Thomas-like — voice suddenly spoke behind him, nearly causing him to drop the precious jam.

“What do you think about the name ‘Janus’?”

Logan set the jam down on the counter before turning around. To his surprise, there was another Side standing behind him, one with snake-like features covering half his face, and a bowler hat resting on his head.

“Who are you?” Logan asked. Another mark. “I wasn’t aware that there were any other Sides.”

“I’m shocked,” the Side smirked. “I’m thinking of going by the name ‘Janus’, but I wanted your opinion first.”

“Have we met before?” Logan asked, unsure why an unfamiliar Side would want his opinion.

“No.”

The Side’s tone and smirk gave Logan the distinct feeling that he was being made fun of, but he couldn’t even begin to fathom how.

“Well, Janus is a Roman god, often attributed to beginnings, gateways, doorways, transitions, passages, frames, time, duality, and endings, so if you feel that any of those things describe your function then I suppose it would be an appropriate name.”

The Side nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, I think Janus would be a perfect name, thank you Logan.”

Logan finished making sandwiches, and while he had not thought the task had taken him too long, he was surprised to find that making the three sandwiches had taken him half an hour. He shook the doubts out of his head, sometimes he got lost in thought, it wasn’t uncommon. He left one sandwich in the kitchen with a note for Patton, and took the other two with him upstairs for himself and Roman.

<(^.^<)

“~Loooogaaaaan~”

A tally mark.

An empty room

Green.

Tally.

A mustache.

Tally.

“Logan, you never pay attention to me!”

“I am unsure who you are.”

Tally.

An empty room.

Logan was feeling untethered. He’d been trying to work in the common room for over two hours, but he had nothing to show for it. No work done, no notes written, no memory of what he’d even been thinking for all this time.

The only thing he did have was sixty-four more tally marks than he’d had earlier; his arms were covered with the lines.

Sixty-five.

Strange.

“What if Thomas just straight up set his apartment on fire?”

Logan’s gaze snapped up from his arm to find an unfamiliar Side. The Side rivaled Roman in terms of “extra”-ness, he had a curly mustache, a white streak in his hair, and a green tulle sash. But the real concern was the unhinged and manic look in his eyes when Logan met his gaze.

Tally mark.

“Excuse me?”

“Begone, thot!” Roman yelled from the stairs, charging at the Side with his katana drawn.

“No fun,” the Side pouted, sinking out right before the katana reached him.

“Oh, Roman,” Logan startled at the sudden appearance of the creative Side. “I didn’t hear you come in. Forgive me, I have been… unfocused today.”

“No worries, specs!” Roman responded jovially, though his cheer seemed slightly forced. “I have just the thing to help!”

Roman vanished his katana — which he had had drawn for some reason — and replaced it with a box. He was holding out the board game Stratego for Logan’s consideration.

Roman was right. The task really did help Logan focus, and he didn’t find himself drifting at any point during the game.

By the time Logan and Roman had each won one round of Stratego each, Patton had joined them and insisted on playing Trivial Pursuit next. No new marks appeared during their games.

(>^.^)>

“Logic!” A voice called.

Logan turned around to find a strange Side in a black hoodie with dark eyeshadow smeared under his eyes nervously hovering about halfway down the hall. Tally.

“Can I help you?” Logan asked, thoroughly confused by the presence of a new Side.

“No, I-” the Side hesitated for a moment. “Just, are you okay?”

“Of course I am,” Logan said, a little taken aback. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just… after Remus I thought maybe…” the Side looked around nervously. “Never mind. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Logan stared at the empty hall, he’d thought he heard something… but no, just an empty hall.

Once inside his room, Logan pulled out the notebook he kept track of the tally marks in.

Hmm, seventy today. He didn’t remember seeing the seventieth one earlier, it must have shown up between when he’d left Patton and Roman in the common room and when he’d reached his bedroom. He recorded the number in his notebook along with the day’s date, then set about washing the marks off before bed.

Seventy wasn’t the most he’d ever had in one day, but it was certainly more than usual. He wondered if it had anything to do with his lack of focus earlier…

^(^.^)v

Remus was waiting for Virgil in his room.

“No fair, emo!” He pouted. “I had him at sixty-nine! You did that on purpose!”

“Oops,” Virgil deadpanned, unsympathetically.

Remus sank back to his own room where continued pouting for about an hour, before resolving to try and get Logan up to four-twenty the next day.

~~~END~~~

I found the beginning of this in my WIPs yesterday and finished it today. I completely forgot about starting it the first time, but now I’m completely in love

In case it wasn’t obvious, as soon as Logan can’t see the Dark Side anymore, he completely forgets about the interaction, including any interaction that involved another Light Side (like Roman)

General Taglist: @royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple

#sanders sides #ts sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #ts dark sides #pre aa #sanders sides fanfiction #thursday writes #fanfiction #my writing

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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years

Text

In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 26: Accustomed

Chapter 25

Read on AO3

On August fourth, the actual date of their one-month anniversary, Claire was working until ten at night. When she shoved the key in the lock and shouldered the door open, she expected to see Mrs. Lickett on the couch with a book as she always was after Faith was put to bed. What greeted her had her frozen in the doorway. Mrs. Lickett was talking animatedly with Jamie.

He shot up from his seat immediately, swiping something off the coffee table. Mrs. Lickett silenced herself, looking back and forth between the younger people like she was watching puppies play together.

“Happy one-month, Sassenach.”

Claire realized through her bleary vision that he’d swiped up a bouquet of flowers. She felt like her bones were melting in her body, and she just wanted to throw herself on him and weep with exhaustion and tenderness.

“I’ll leave you two…” Mrs. Lickett said, getting off the couch. “Nice talking to you, Jamie. Goodnight, Claire.”

Claire stammered an incoherent goodnight, and Mrs. Lickett closed the front door, Claire having had it open this whole time.

“I came after Faith was asleep so she wouldna get all excited, so dinna fash about that. Mrs. Lickett texted me.”

In any other situation, Claire might have laughed at the thought of the two of them texting one another.

“There’s a bottle of champagne in the fridge if ye’d like. I can also go, if ye wish. I ken ye had a long day, that’s why we celebrated on Saturday, so if ye’d rather I — ”

He paused, and only then did Claire even realize she’d actually started weeping.

“Claire? What’s wrong?” The flowers dropped from his hand, landing on the couch, and in three quick strides he was upon her, hands gripping her shoulders. “What is it, lass? Did ye lose many patients?”

Claire sniffled, laughing at her own hysterics. “No...well, yes, a few but that’s not…” She wiped her eyes, then cupped his face. “You’re just….so sweet, Jamie.”

“Oh.” The concern wiped itself off his face, replaced by vague dumbfoundedness. “Ye’re alright, then?”

Claire nodded vigorously. “I’m...I’m perfect, Jamie.” She kissed him, wet snotty face and all. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She nuzzled her nose with his.

Jamie exhaled with relief, nuzzling her back. “I’m glad ye’re glad,” he said with a laugh. “I ken we celebrated already, but it felt wrong to not see ye on the day. Even if it’s just fer a bit. I couldna stop thinking about ye all day.” His thumbs rubbed circles on her shoulders.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”

They kissed again, Claire threading her arms around his neck and Jamie threading his around her waist. When they pulled apart, Claire laughed wetly. “Shall we get out of the doorway?”

They did, making their way to the kitchen where Claire arranged the flowers in a vase while Jamie got flutes for their champagne. Claire remarked over and over how beautiful the flowers were, and Jamie retorted nearly every single time that they weren’t nearly as beautiful as she was. They clinked their glasses, toasting to one another, and they finished the bottle on the couch, intermittently kissing sloppily and laughing at the episodes of Friends that TBS was playing.

When the bottle was finished, Claire had herself wrapped around Jamie like a koala, and she found herself weeping again. When Jamie prodded, she sniffled and looked up at him.

“I don’t know, you just...you do so much for me.” She wiped her eyes. “I feel like I don’t...I don’t do enough.”

“Sassenach…”

“I just want you to know how much you mean to me,” she finished. “Even if I’m terrible at…”

“Claire.”

That stopped her. Not Sassenach. Claire.

“Ye’re no’ terrible at anything.” He wiped wetness from her cheeks with his thumbs, looking into her eyes.

“But do you know…? Do you really know that you’re...you’re so important to me?”

“Aye, mo ghraidh. I know.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. “I know.”

And then, like the person desperate for physical connection that she was, Claire pounced on him, tearing his shirt off and letting him tear off hers, and her bra, as she straddled him. The blazing warmth of his bare chest pressing her breasts flat was almost too much to bear. They kissed fiercely, Jamie raking his nails up and down her back, causing her to shiver and groan. It didn’t take long at all for Jamie to stand up, carrying Claire bodily with him. He paused for a moment to adjust her legs around his waist so she wouldn’t slip, and they both giggled. Then Jamie walked into the bedroom, kissing Claire all the while, and he laid her on the bed like she was made of glass and meant to be worshipped.

She didn’t wait for invitation before stripping her bottom half, and Jamie did the same before joining her on the bed. He teased her nipples with his mouth and rolled her clit in his fingers for a while, until Claire was choking on her own moans, bucking her hips into the air, desperate for him. He entered her, and she came immediately from the sheer release after a long day and the build up he’d given her. Jamie let her get her bearings before moving within her, and then he was reaching between them, pounding and rubbing her mercilessly until they were both crying out their release into each other's mouths, biting on each other’s lips to keep each other quiet.

Claire was seeing stars, the darkness of the night around them consuming her senses. Jamie’s warmth was all around her, surrounding her. He rolled over next to her and gathered her against him, and without thinking, she threaded her legs with his, nuzzling into his chest and kissing his sternum. In that kiss, she said:

Please know. Please know how much I care.

Jamie’s answering kiss to the crown of her head, accompanied with a large hand rubbing up and down the smooth expanse of her back answered:

Aye, mo ghraidh. I know. I know.

——

A persistent banging noise was what woke Claire the next morning. She groaned with annoyance at first, pulling the blankets over her ears, but then she felt someone shaking her.

“Sassenach,” Jamie whispered. “I think Mrs. Lickett is here.”

Claire’s eyes shot open, and she sat up. “Oh shit,” she hissed. “That’s Faith outside the bedroom, isn't it?”

“Aye, indeed.”

“Shit shit shit…” Claire scrambled from bed and breathed in exasperation upon remembering she’d fallen asleep stark naked. Faith banged more insistently on the door, moaning in frustration. “Coming, lovie! One second!” Claire threw up a prayer of thanks to whoever was listening that Jamie had thought to lock the door behind them last night.

She tore through her closet for a robe and yanked it on, then turned to see Jamie was getting dressed.

“Don’t move,” she breathed. Jamie froze with one leg still halfway into his pants.

“Ehm…why?”

“I don’t want Faith to know you’re here. She’ll never let you leave.”

Jamie bit his lip to stifle a laugh, finishing with his pants.

“Just…get in the corner. Far away.” She gestured absurdly with her hands, pushing him farther and farther back from several feet away. “Don’t make a sound. She will figure it out, and there will be a meltdown.”

Jamie pantomimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing away the key. Claire rolled her eyes before unlocking and opening the door, just a crack. Faith was way ahead, grasping the edge of the door the second she could, and trying to thrust it open.

“Good morning, Faith,” Claire said warmly. “No, no, we can’t cuddle this morning, I’m sorry darling.”

Faith groaned, giving another sharp push that would have had Claire stumbling backward if she hadn’t seen it coming. “Don’t push me, Faith,” Claire said softly, but firmly. “Mrs. Lickett is here, come on.”

Claire did a little pushing of her own, shuffling Faith away with her legs and prying little hands from the door. She quickly shut the door again behind her as soon as she was certain that no fingers would get crushed, and she scooped Faith into her arms.

“Coming!” Claire called as she settled Faith onto her hip and scuttled into the living room. She put Faith down so she could unlock and open the door, and she cringed to think how unhinged she must look to the poor woman.

“Good morning, so sorry,” Claire said, flustered. “I overslept, clearly.”

“That’s alright,” Mrs. Lickett assured, stepping inside.

“Ehm, just a few things,” Claire said with an awkward chuckle. Before she could continue, a scratching noise filled her ears, and she whirled around to see Angus scratching on her bedroom door.

Of course he knows.

“Angus! Come!” Claire said, her voice thin with panic. The dog obeyed immediately, of course, well trained as he was, but he definitely knew something was up.

“Uh…” Claire cleared her throat. “Right. So, there is, ehm…J-A-M-I-E is H-E-R-E,” Claire said carefully, deliberately spelling any words that might trigger excitement for Faith. Realization illuminated Mrs. Lickett’s face, and she nodded, lips taut with the effort of stifling a smile. “So I, uh…just need you to keep her busy while I get dressed and get H-I-M…O-U-T.”

“Right,” Mrs. Lickett said.

“Have her feed Angus first and foremost and then…how about a bath? She never runs out of the tub.” Bath time was indeed one of Faith’s favorite activities; she treated it like her own little ocean, playing mermaid and squirting water with her bath toys. Getting her out of the tub was like trying to get her out of the Abernathys’ swimming pool.

“Sounds good,” Mrs. Lickett agreed. “I’ll shut the door for good measure.”

“Perfect.” Claire looked behind her to see Faith on the living room floor with her Barbies, arranging them on the coffee table using some filing system that Claire would never understand. She then watched in horror as Faith pushed a bra and two t-shirts off the coffee table. She darted forward and snatched them up before Mrs. Lickett could notice, though she likely already did. “Okay baby, listen to Mrs. Lickett, Mummy needs to get ready for work.”

With that, Claire shuffled away back into her bedroom, careful to only open the door just enough for her to fit in, locking it behind her. When she turned around, Jamie was just sitting on the bed, still shirtless for obvious reasons, grinning like an absolute fool.

“I’m glad you think this is funny!” Claire whispered harshly, throwing his shirt at him, but her own smile betrayed her.

“It’s like Jenny sneaking Ian out of our parents’ house,” he said quietly, biting his lip to contain a chuckle. “Couple of teenagers we are.”

Claire rolled her eyes, making her way to the closet. “You wouldn’t be smiling like that if she started crying when you left because she found you.”

“Aye, I ken,” he said. “It’s just…” He sighed, leaning back on the pillows. “Christ, Sassenach, my wame’s been doing tumbles since the second I woke up this morning, then watching ye fret and flit about…”

“Oh, stop…” Claire blushed, throwing clothes and fresh scrubs to pack onto the bed.

“And now ye’re just gonna flounce about in that wee robe like a temptress, to taunt me?”

“Please, you know I threw this on for any reason but to tempt you.” Claire rolled her eyes as she untied the belt, then she paused. “Do I need to make you turn around so you don’t get drool on the bed?”

Jamie grinned sheepishly, though he didn’t avert his eyes. Claire turned to face him, one eyebrow raised.

“I mean it, sir. I’m already running late, because of you.”

“I can control myself!” Jamie said in mock offense. “D’ye take me fer a heathen?”

“I might,” she grinned slyly, finally opening the robe and sliding it off herself. Her nose wrinkled in disgust, and she huffed. “I can’t believe I don’t have time for a shower, I feel disgusting…”

“Dinna look it.” She chanced a glance up to see Jamie laying back, hands behind his head, taking in her body like a royal feast.

“I’m sure I positively reek,” she went on, pulling on underwear and clasping her bra.

“Come closer, I’ll check for ye.”

She looked up at him again, aghast. “You are shameless.”

“Never said I wasna.”

Claire scoffed and rolled deodorant on before pulling her shirt over her head. She looked up to see a tiny pout on his face, though the evidence of what her naked body had done to him was still plainly visible.

“Ruined your fun, did I?” Claire said, tutting her tongue in mock sympathy. “Poor lad.” She pulled her capris on and started shoving the scrubs into her bag.

Jamie chuckled softly, but she could see how his eyes had darkened, could see the strain that his arousal was placing on his entire body. The veins in his neck protruded, his face was red.

“You know,” Claire began, trying to straighten the absolute mess of curls atop her ahead in the mirror full length mirror on her closet door. “We do have to wait until Faith is in the tub. You’ll hear once the water starts running, and only when it stops are you all clear to leave.” She gave up on her hair and decided to tie it in a knot atop her head, shoving in a few pins and pulling on a headband for good measure.

“So?” Jamie said, cocking an eyebrow at her from behind her in the mirror.

“So…” she turned around slowly. “I might be able to take care of that little problem.” She flashed her eyes at the tent in his pants, and he visibly and audibly gulped. “But only if you promise not to make me a mess again.”

He nodded eagerly. “Aye, lass, I promise.”

Claire smirked and chuckled wickedly, approaching the bed. “Go on, take them off.”

Jamie gulped again and lifted his hips to pull his pants and boxers down. A rushing noise filled the air.

“Ah,” Claire said. “That’s the bathtub.”

Jamie’s cock sprang free, and Claire knelt on the bed. “But I’m not worried about taking too long.”

Jamie’s eyes flashed with dark indigence, as if he’d like to punish her for saying such a wicked thing, but knowing that he could not, given the promise he’d made. Claire ran her hand up the length of his inner thigh.

“Oh,” Claire said, pausing her hand right before reaching the desired destination. “And you must be very quiet.” She wrapped her hands around his base, delighting in his quiet hiss. “Can you do that?”

He nodded dumbly, swallowing again. She gave a few languid strokes before leaning down and kissing the tip.

“Good lad.”

——

Claire spat into the sink and checked her breath for the third time out of sheer paranoia. Mrs. Lickett was sitting on Faith’s little step-stool next to the bathtub while Faith was playing in the warm, bubbly water. Claire watched as she fully submerged herself for the millionth time, flapping her little hands as if she had an entire swimming pool’s room to do laps in there. Satisfied with her breath, Claire finally rinsed her mouth and straightened a few wild curls, even while fully knowing they’d pop out the second she stepped out into the humidity (humidity; something she’d never experienced in England, and decided she hated).

Claire waited on her knees for Faith to pop back up from under the water, greeting her with a little “Boo!” when she did. Faith started, blinking a bit, and Claire worried she’d actually given her poor girl a fright. But then her absent face melted into that familiar smile, and Claire laughed.

“Okay, baby. Mummy is going to work now. You’ll be a good girl today, yes?”

Faith ignored her, slapping her hands at the surface of the water and reaching for her Ariel mermaid Barbie.

“Hey.” Claire picked up the doll herself, redirecting Faith’s attention. “Look at my eyes.” Faith reached for the doll, quite unhappy with Claire’s decision to withhold it. “Be a good girl today. Yes?”

Claire gave a thumbs up, and Faith whined.

“Faith Julia.”

Faith gave a hasty thumbs up, even as she continued whining and reaching for the doll.

“Good enough,” Claire remarked to Mrs. Lickett, who chuckled softly. “Okay, kisses.” Claire kissed the top of Faith’s wet head, and Faith returned with a wet sloppy kiss to her cheek. Claire dramatically wiped it away, eliciting more giggles from Faith.

With one final goodbye, Claire left the bathroom, grabbed her bag from the couch, and was out the front door. She locked it behind her then turned around to see Jamie leaning on his car, arms crossed, like some high-school jackass stereotype. It looked much hotter on him. She shook her head as she descended the stairs, laughing.

She’d rushed him back into his clothes when the tub stopped running, and then she’d shoved him out the front door. He’d gone, but not without pulling her in for several sloppy kisses, even as she was attempting to shut the door in his face, and not without stopping to give Angus far too many scratches and pats.

Evidently, that rushed goodbye was not good enough for him, because there he stood, waiting for her.

“Still haven’t had enough, Fraser?” Claire teased, unlocking her car and throwing her bag in the backseat.

Jamie sauntered over to her. “Never.”

She hummed in amusement, and he pulled her in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“I really do have to go,” she said breathlessly. “I’m lucky if I’m even on time at this point, let alone early enough to get into my scrubs.”

“I’d apologize, but…” He kissed her again, and she groaned in either annoyance or something else. “I’m no’ very sorry fer any of it.”

“Hmph.” She gave him one final peck before getting into her car and shutting the door. As she started the car, he rapped on the window with a knuckle. She sighed with annoyance, but her smile betrayed her, as usual. “What?”

“Happy anniversary, Sassenach.”

She could literally feel her face melting into that stupid, soft expression reserved for only his most endearing moments (which was nearly all his moments, admittedly).

“Happy anniversary, Jamie.”

She leaned out the window to kiss him one more time, then started rolling in reverse, even with her head still craned toward him. He waved until she couldn’t see him in her rear view mirrors anymore, and she rolled up her window.

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, Beauchamp…

Claire gulped and turned the air conditioning up higher.

One month, only one month…

And you are so, so far gone.

——

For cooking night that week, Jamie brought over ingredients for homemade pizza. Faith very much enjoyed rolling the dough, and it was difficult to simultaneously stop her from playing with it like play-doh and keep her from eating it. She also had fun putting innumerable slices of pepperoni on the pizza. The original plan was to split the pie into sections and have each of the three of them put on whatever toppings they wished on their own section, but Faith’s pepperoni could not be contained. Then when Jamie tried to put peppers and onions on his section, Faith pushed his hands away, whining, and no amount of coaxing could get her to relent. There was no reasoning with her; regardless of the fact that she would only eat two of the small slices, this entire pizza was Faith’s to dictate, end of discussion.

To compromise, Jamie cooked his and Claire’s vegetables of choice in a pan on the stove to sprinkle on once the pieces were cut.

“It’s a good thing I like pepperoni,” Claire remarked wryly.

“Aye. I do too.”

Claire did not even allow Jamie anywhere near the bedroom that night; they’d agreed no staying the night, accidentally or not, when Claire had to work the next morning. They’d already embarrassed poor Mrs. Lickett enough for one lifetime. For Saturday night, however, they had a plan. On pizza night, they’d both told Faith that Jamie would be “sleeping over” on Saturday night, meaning he would be there when Faith woke up in the morning, and that he would leave sometime in the afternoon. Faith hardly seemed to even be paying attention, but Claire was almost certain she’d retained it.

It was important to Claire — to both of them, really, to normalize Jamie’s presence in the home, overnight or no, so Faith didn’t bounce off the walls every single time. Come Saturday afternoon in Jamie’s car, Claire was satisfied that Faith was properly prepared. They’d just dropped Faith off at the Abernathy house in her bathing suit, ready for a full day in the pool with her friend while Mummy and Jamie went on their date. Claire beamed at Jamie in the driver’s seat.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she said flippantly. “Just…excited. Happy. I don’t know.”

Jamie took her hand and brought it to his lips, keeping his eyes on the road. “So am I, lass.”

Their hands remained intertwined for the rest of the drive until they arrived at Jamie’s chosen date location for the weekend: the stables.

He’d promised her that night on the carousel that he’d take her riding for real, and today he was making good on that promise. Staff rotated who had to come and care for the horses on weekends, and this week was Jamie’s turn, so they’d be alone.

“I’m there every weekend anyway,” Jamie had explained, “for Donas. But this way we ken we’re alone.”

The wink he’d given her sent a shiver down her spine.

Jamie had also packed a picnic lunch for them to have on the grounds, complete with a light whisky. They departed Jamie’s car in the parking lot, and Claire marveled at the lot’s emptiness with no one else around. Claire started to make her way toward the welcome center, then Jamie gently took her hand. She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he answered:

“This way.”

They bypassed the building and he took Claire to a gate, then produced a clanking ring of keys from the pocket of his shorts.

“This is the more direct route to the horses,” he said, shuffling through keys. “But if ye need the restroom, dinna fash.” He unlocked the gate, removed the key, and held up a different key. “I’ve got the key fer that, too.”

Claire chuckled and followed him through the gate, waiting for him to lock it again behind them. Jamie led them past the stable that Claire knew Pippi was kept in.

“We dinna keep Donas where we take the bairns,” Jamie said. “That’d be a recipe fer disaster.”

Claire’s brow practically raised to her hairline; she was almost nervous to meet such a notorious creature.

“Spoiled beast practically has the whole stable to himself,” Jamie said it in a chastising manner, but his sheepish grin gave him away.

“You’re quite fond of him,” Claire said.

“Aye,” Jamie said, handing Claire the picnic basket so he could open the doors to the barn. “One of my best friends.”

He winked before he heaved the doors open, but Claire was not at all certain he was joking. The thought had bubbles rippling in her chest:

My boyfriend, best friends with a horse.

“Could you be any more endearing?” she said, following him inside.

“Huh?”

She chuckled. “Never mind.”

Claire noticed immediately that out of the eight stalls in this stable, only four of them had horses in them, where the other stable was always full. Claire took in the sight of a regal white mare, a beautiful brown and white spotted Appaloosa, a silver Andalusian, and an enormous, terrifying black stallion, the stalls next to it deliberately empty. In fact, the four stalls on that side were empty save for him; the other three horses all on the other side.

Claire gaped for a moment. “Donas, I take it?”

“Aye.” Jamie swelled with pride.

“He’s…beautiful, Jamie. Really.” Claire had to fight the urge to reach out and touch him, somehow convinced he would bite her hand off.

“Aye, bit rough around the edges to be sure, but sweet as anything when ye get to know him.”

“He…doesn’t look like he wants to get to know me.”

Donas huffed, stomping his front right hoof. Jamie laughed.

“He’d no’ get to know anyone if he had any say in the matter. Lucky fer us,” Jamie put a hand on Donas’s muzzle, looking into his eyes, and the beast leaned into his touch. “He kens who is master is.”

Claire’s heart warmed at the sight; they really did look like a couple of chums.

“Now, Donas,” Jamie said sternly. “I’ve a lass here, and I’d no’ like to be embarrassed. I ken ye dinna care what she thinks of ye, but at least fer me, could ye no’ bite her?”

The warmth immediately disappeared, and Claire’s eyes bugged out of her head. Jamie laughed out loud, and Donas tossed his head away from the sound. Jamie pulled his head back, holding it in place and stroking soothingly, even as he continued to laugh.

“I’m teasing, Sassenach. He willna actually bite yer heid off. At least I dinna think he will.”

Claire eyed him suspiciously. “Is this going to be one of those things where if this doesn’t work,” she gestured between herself and Donas, “then this doesn’t work?” She gestured between herself and Jamie.

Jamie barked another laugh. “Well if that’s true, ye’re no’ trying very hard to keep me!”

“Jamie…”

“Come on, Sassenach. Ye canna be so afeared. He can smell it on ye. It feeds his ego to ken that ye fear him.” He gave the thick, black neck a solid pat. “And that just spurs him on to be more of an arse.”

Claire straightened out, sticking her nose in the air. “I’m not afraid.”

Jamie cocked an eyebrow. “Then show me.”

She took a deep breath and then approached the pair of them, careful not to shrink or falter in the slightest.

“I can do this,” she said calmly, slowly stretching her hand out, taking a quick peek at his ears to make sure they were not pinned back (they weren’t). “This is just like trying to talk to the misogynist pricks at work. Can’t let him know he gets to me.”

Jamie made an amused Scottish noise. “My horse is a misogynist now?”

“Very well could be. Have you ever asked him?”

Jamie laughed, but pointedly kept himself still and quiet as possible so as to not sway Donas’s opinion of the hand approaching him.

“Don’t worry,” Claire said calmly and evenly. “I mean no harm. I care about your master very much.” She let her hand hover under Donas’s enormous, flaring nostrils. “I just want to be friends. Acquaintances, even. For Jamie’s sake.” She flicked her eyes to Jamie to find him grinning like a fool at her, his pupils blown wide. But then:

“Dinna break eye contact,” he hissed, and Claire immediately rectified it. “He doesna like that.”

“Of course he doesn’t.”

Claire had to repeatedly tell herself, he will not bite my hand off, he will not bite my hand off, in order to remain still and have any hope of keeping the smell of fear off of her. Then, like watching a miracle unfold, Donas tapped his wet nose into Claire’s cupped hand for a split second. Claire laughed triumphantly, and Jamie beamed with pride.

“He doesn’t hate me!” Claire knew better than to say he likes me; that would certainly be pushing it. She knew enough from riding with Uncle Lamb that if a horse touched your hand, it was an invitation to be pet, so she flipped her hand and reached forward.

She stopped, however, when Jamie swiftly grabbed her forearm.

“What?”

“He showed ye he doesna hate ye, an achievement in and of itself,” Jamie said, his eyes full of mirth. “Let’s no’ push our luck by trying to get him to like ye. No’ just yet.”

Claire sighed with annoyance, letting her hand drop. “Fine.” She carefully stepped away. “Pompous brat.”

Jamie laughed out loud, giving said pompous brat another solid pat. “Careful now, Sassenach, or he willna be so gracious next time.”

“Gracious my arse,” Claire grumbled.

Jamie clicked his tongue and left Donas’s side to gather her in his arms and kiss her gently. “Ye’re no’ gonnae be grumpy the rest of our date because a horse doesna like ye?”

“No,” Claire said, but even she didn’t believe herself.

“Och…” Jamie cupped her face in his hands. “Ye ken I canna resist that wee pout.”

“I’m not pouting!”

“Aye, ye are.” Jamie laughed through the words. “Come here.”

He tipped her face up into his and kissed her much less gently, immediately demanding entrance for his tongue. She obliged eagerly, even though somewhere in the back of her mind she was thinking about how the horses were all watching them. Jamie’s hands moved from her face to her hair, tugging greedily and groaning into his mouth, wanting to swing a leg over his hip right there in the middle of the stable.

An indignant huff interrupted them, even as Jamie’s excitement grew. They pulled apart, and Claire looked over Jamie’s shoulder to see Donas stamping his hooves again.

“Seriously?” Claire fired at him. Jamie laughed out loud again, untangling his hands from Claire’s hair and running them down the length of her arms.

“Come on, lass.” He took both of her hands and pulled her away from Donas, into a stall, leaving an empty one between them and Donas.

“What on Earth are you doing…?”

“Getting ye away from prying eyes.”

Jamie captured her lips with his immediately, his tongue resuming its prior task of exploring every inch of the inside of her mouth. Claire whimpered in surprise and then began moaning, threading her arms around his neck.

“This is…” Claire breathed. “We can’t do this here.”

“Why no’?” Jamie nibbled at her neck. “I told ye we’d be completely alone.”

The thought sent a jet of heat to her core, and she stifled another moan. “Because…the…” She lost her train of thought as Jamie’s hand found its way under her shirt.

“The horses dinna mind, Sassenach.” He sealed his lips on hers again, squeezing her breast under her bra.

They moved together, back, back, back…until Claire’s back slammed against the wall of the stall.

“Besides,” Jamie said, palming her over her capris, eliciting a muffled groan from her. “I havena been able to hear ye since last week. Ye’ve had to keep far too quiet fer my liking.”

He squeezed her breast harder and increased the speed of his hand over her pants, and she sighed in ecstasy, kissing him hungrily and letting her hands roam to his fly. She forcefully pushed his shorts and boxers down, savoring the strangled cry he let out when she fisted him in her hand. His clothing fell around his ankles, and he reciprocated, unzipping Claire’s capris and forcing them along with her underwear down. Claire clumsily toed off one sneaker so she could get one foot out of her pants, and then hooked the leg around Jamie’s naked hips. She dug her heel into him, pulling him in closer. For a moment, Claire ground against him, savoring the friction, keening desperately as she did. And then, in one swift motion, Jamie viciously grabbed her thigh and lined himself up to enter her with a powerful thrust. Claire cried out loudly, breathing heavily.

“Aye,” Jamie rasped, kissing her sloppily. “Let me hear ye, mo nighean donn.”

Claire hummed in appreciation, her voice hitching with each of Jamie’s piercing, almost painful thrusts. Her back slammed and rubbed against the wood behind her, and somewhere in her hazy consciousness she thought she’d definitely have a bruise after this, and then that thought had her moaning louder.

The thought of him marking her.

Her increase in volume had him doubling his pace, grunting and groaning in her ear, biting her earlobe, her neck. Her grip on his shoulders became more desperate, her heel dug in harder, her voice grew higher and louder.

“Claire…” Jamie hissed, gripping her thigh harder. “Oh, Claire…”

The sound of her name on his lips like that was almost enough to undo her. Then his free hand began mercilessly rubbing her clit, and she made a guttural noise she didn’t even know she was capable of making.

“Aye, lass…” Jamie looked deep into her eyes and redoubled his efforts. “Let go. Only I can hear ye.”

It was a wonder to Claire that he was capable of speech right now, because if she’d tried to speak, only more shrieking moans would come out. And oh, they did. She felt herself tightening, and she dug her nails into Jamie’s back, and then she was falling, hard. She knew she was screaming, knew, and didn't care. Her walls gripped him so tightly he almost slipped out even though it would defy gravity in this position. Jamie was not far after, spilling into her with her name on his lips like a prayer.

Afterward, they sat in the hay on the floor, still half naked leaning against the stall, limbs entwined. Jamie kissed that spot on her shoulder where she thought she already felt a bruise blooming.

“I can’t believe you’ve already made me sore before we even get on the horses.”

Jamie snorted, then kissed the top of her head. “Wasna my intention.” Claire hmphed, and Jamie laughed again. “You just let me know when ye’re ready to go.”

Claire hummed, her eyes closed, and then felt consciousness slip from her against her will. She woke less than a half hour later, and after chastising Jamie for letting her fall asleep, and both of them repairing the state of their undress through endless fits of giggles, they made their way back to the horses.

Donas looked thoroughly disgusted with them, though Claire might have just been projecting onto an entity she knew had distaste for her.

“See that white mare?” Jamie said, leading Claire over. “This is Millie. Toni’s horse.”

“Toni rides?”

“Oh, aye. That’s why she works here.” Jamie let Millie sniff his hand, then began petting her. He gestured for Claire to do the same, and the process was much less painful (and terrifying) than it was with Donas. “They take a wee bit out of yer paycheck to keep yer horse here, but it’s a hell of a lot cheaper than having the land yerself, or using a public stable.”

“She’s beautiful,” Claire marveled, running her fingers up and down the long nose. “Very gentle.”

“Aye, she’s bonny. Toni said ye could ride her for today.”

Claire looked up at Jamie, her gaze warm with affection for Toni. “That’s really nice of her.”

“Please, ye ken that meddling wee besom’ll do anything to get us alone. Since last September. This wasna done out of sheer generosity.”

Claire chuckled, moving on to the softness of Millie’s mane. “You tease her too much.”

“Ach, she kens she’s a good friend.”

“Where does she fall on the friendship tier? Above or below Donas?” Then Claire yelped, or rather squeaked; Jamie had pinched her arse. She swatted at his arm, and Jamie remarked that if she’d done that so close to Donas, he’d really have bitten her head off.

Introductions out of the way and teasing (mostly) finished, they got saddled up and led the horses out of the stable.

“Now, I ken ye said ye rode before,” Jamie said. “So it’s yer choice. D’ye want to use the riding hall and keep it moderate, or d’ye want to roam around the grounds, get a wee bit exciting?”

Claire smirked at him around Millie’s head. “I’m always up for a wee bit of excitement.”

In one swift motion, Jamie launched himself onto his saddle, that wide, lopsided grin dancing on his beautiful face. “That’s what I hoped ye’d say.”

Claire mirrored him, getting herself settled in Millie’s saddle and giving her loving strokes on her neck. “Shall we?”

They rode anywhere between a trot and a gallop, all over the grounds that Claire had become familiar with on foot. It did look different without tables or Easter eggs or dunk tanks and projection screens. Jamie was a bit of a show off on his glorious, enormous mustang, and as much as Claire wanted to smack him, she also found it endlessly endearing, his desire to impress her.

They stopped somewhere to have their picnic lunch, letting the horses graze while they ate slowly, sipped whisky, and of course, kissed each other until they were both lightheaded. Claire very nearly threw a leg over to straddle him and ride him right there on the picnic blanket, but it would have been far too much effort to remove her shoes and capris again. So she took care of Jamie’s still-new-to-sex-and-always-ready excitement with her hand, and remarked with a sultry smile that she knew he’d take care of her later.

They rode some more, joking and laughing — Claire tossing her head back so far she nearly fell out of the saddle, holding hands between them (despite Donas’s apparent disapproval), and even guiding their horses close enough to kiss one another. And then of course Jamie yanked Donas away before he could bite off Millie’s ear. Obviously there was a very good reason they kept the stalls next to that brute empty.

They reached the stable again and bid their horses proper goodbyes, Claire remaining a safe distance from the Brute. Jamie held her hand all the way back to the car, and her legs felt wobbly, her stomach fluttery. It was impossible to tell if she was swaying from straddling the horse for so long or from the way Jamie had slammed into her against the wall, but either way, it was not altogether unpleasant.

They picked Faith up promptly at six, having given her a hard stop time in the pool at five so she’d know what to expect and be ready to be picked up, and hopefully not have a meltdown when it was time to get out. Gail’s report was that she was very well behaved, though she’d had more snacks than Claire would have liked. Faith did not at all protest when it was time to leave, especially because it was Jamie who stepped into the room first. Claire could not help the twinge of jealousy when Faith wrapped herself around his legs and listened to him far better than she would have to Claire if she was alone, but she knew this was normal, for any child, let alone a child on the spectrum.

After Faith and Claire showered together, Claire made mac and cheese with dinosaur chicken nuggets for all three of them while Jamie showered.

“See?” Claire remarked when they were all sat down at the table, loading a stegosaurus with several little Frozen character-shaped macaronis. “Being a bad cook is fun sometimes.”

They watched the movie of Faith’s choice (Frozen, to no one’s surprise), and then Faith did not protest when it was time to brush her teeth and get into bed. She did not protest because Jamie had promised to be the one to tuck her in that night. He was not granted the honor of teeth-brusher or Risperdal-dispenser, but tucking in and turning on the nightlight were sacred parts of nighttime routine nonetheless.

And Claire knew that Jamie took it very seriously.

She stood back, watching from the doorway as Jamie pulled the blankets up to her chin, multiple heavy blankets despite it being summer.

“Sleep well, a leannan,” Jamie said softly, stroking back her wild curls. “Ye were a very good girl today.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead, and Claire’s chest ached. “I’ll see ye in the morning.”

That had Faith grinning, her eyes wild with excitement.

“But morning willna come if ye dinna sleep,” he warned. “So I willna see ye unless ye sleep.”

She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, wrinkling the lids with the effort. He and Claire both chuckled, and Jamie shook his head.

“Alright. Goodnight, lass.”

With that, he patted Angus’s head and stood up from the bed, allowing Claire to say her own goodnight, and then they departed to Claire’s room.

Jamie did take care of her, face buried between her legs hooked over his shoulders, took care of her so well that she had to put a pillow over her face to keep from rousing the five year old they’d just put to bed.

When he was finished taking care of her, he rose up and tossed the pillow away, laughing no doubt at how positively insane she must have looked after flattening her face into a pillow. He kissed her anyway, insanity and all, and he lined himself up to take her.

“You didn’t have enough today?” Claire teased, breathless.

Jamie’s eyes darkened, and he wet his lips. “Never.”

And he took her.

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lovecolibri · 2 years

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SaL anon here friend and I know I promised you a salty ask but I'm in my Buddie feels right now so instead i thought I'd finally start talking about the tsunami episodes. So instead of sending you a 10 page book on my thoughts I decided to just go though the mpments that i thought were truly unhinged/significant/emotional minefields one at a time. So let's start with That Hug. Yes it's probably only 20 seconds of screen time but let's talk about it anyway because it's insane. So I said that TBC

the writers during S2 were undecided on whether in making Buck Chris's dad they would have romantic Buddie or to get rid of Eddie somehow. Well the Hug to me is them declaring their intentions, Buddie it is. So everything from the context to the set-up to the event itself is unhinged. First the context, of all the mains in at the party Eddie has known Buck for the least amount if time and you think wouldn't take precedence over his surrogate parents, Bobby and Athena. He is also physically farther away than anyone else when Buck comes down the stairs, but somehow he's the first person to run out and embrace Buck (Athena is literally right there and she gets like a weird high-five?). Also the way it's set-up, there's no rush of people eagerly awaiting their turn (Bobby and Hen step forward but don't crowd them), it's like everyone decided to form a circle and let them exist in a bubble for a bit. Together the whole thing comes across as a returning-hero-is-greeted-by-team-but-obviously-the-love-interest-gets-first-dibs moment, so seriously WTF show??!! Oh, and then there's the actual hug which is not a simple pat-each-others-back-like-bros hug (impossible to do since for some damn reason Eddie's arm is around Buck's waist more or less). No, instead they do the quick embrace and then hold each other in a I-need-to-see-your-face-but-can't-stand-to-let-you-go-too-far moment. Seriously what were the directions given for this scene? "Hug and then hold each other like it would be totally natural for you to start waltzing in the next two seconds." So yeah, for this 20 seconds i see a lot of interesting choices being made, and exactly zero of them say "We're just good friends". Also, love that the scene after this is Buddie and Chris, and it's noticeably more isolated than Buck's other interactions at the party, like it's special somehow. Hope you enjoyed my ranting, there's more to come!

Hello my friend! I’m taking a break from binge-watching Olympic coverage during every waking moment of my day to watch the Super Bowl commercials, so I’ve got plenty of game time to finally read over this and flail about the tsunami episodes!

Soooo, that hug sure is something isn’t it? Bobby pushing Eddie to the front to hug Buck first? The full body contact? Eddie pulling back but having a hand braced on Buck’s ribs, and on his shoulder near his neck? Nearly the same exact spot he puts it after the tsunami is over and he’s bringing Chris back to Buck’s house and telling him how much he trusts Buck with his son?

You’re right, it was 20 seconds of absolutely unhinged behavior. What was the direction there? “Hug each other like you haven’t seen each other in weeks and you’re desperate for contact but have to keep it together because you’re surrounded by other people”?

I can’t wait to hear about all your other favorite unhinged moments because I’m sure there are lots of them!

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #911 #buddie #tsunami arc my beloved #sorry this took me a bit to get to #i literally do nothing else during olympics but watch olympics 🤣#but i can't wait to see what else you've got for me #the tsunami episodes truly are something else

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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I love the way you write! Especially your word choice, descriptions and just the overall way you convey emotion! Any writing tips you wanna share? If not, Who's your favorite to write for and why? Thank! -🦉Owl anon

Danke, owl anon! I can try to give some tips, but I'm not sure how useful/coherent they will be.

1: Always think about sentence structure, and try to keep things varied. Sometimes have a short sentence. See, that was an example, and now here we have something longer. Every sentence defines the flow of how it reads; changing how sentences are arranged affects how it feels to read, even changing how a scene feels! For example, action sequences often have more short, simple sentences than other scenes. This can convey tension, or even panic! I also tend to use super long, run-on sentences to show anxiety, because reading it is very reminiscent of having an anxiety attack and feeling like your mind is moving a million miles per hour. Overall, regardless of how a scene feels, sentence variety helps keep the reader from getting bored.

2: Similarly, pay attention to how you start your sentences. A lot of inexperienced writers tend to overuse certain words ("the", character names, pronouns, "you" if they're writing second person). No matter how great the rest of the sentence is, the reader is likely to start getting a little bored, due to the story feeling "repetitive". Trying to reorder the actions in a sentence can help, although some people (more often academic writers than other kinds) don't like it if you use a "passive" voice. That's, like, a real writing term I learned back in school, but I honestly don't remember a good way to describe it.

3: There are "rules" you probably learned in school that do not apply to creative writing. Like "don't start a sentence with the word 'and'". For one, it works in dialogue, seeing as humans don't always follow grammatical rules. Secondly, we've already gone over a bit of how sentence structure can change how a story reads. Let's compare two quick examples:

In the end, you were as replaceable as any other Maiden, and that thought was what made you do a double-take.

In the end, you were as replaceable as any other Maiden. And that, that as what made you do a double-take.

Adding the period makes the reader automatically pause, like taking a breath. In this scenario, it mimics the feeling the main character has, as they realize something serious. Now, even though the period makes us pause, one could argue that the word "and" isn't necessary, and we could have simply started the example sentence with "That". Which is true. However, I would argue that using "and" shows us that it's a continuation of the previous thought. We didn't end the first sentence because we needed to, we ended it because there was a break in our thoughts. In other situations, using "and" at the start of a sentence can add personality to the text. Just like someone doing so during dialogue, the narrator can end up feeling a bit sassy.

EX: They were running for their lives, barely dodging past blasterfire and explosive debris alike, muscles burning from the effort. And they said this wouldn't be fun!

Choosing which "rules" to follow and which to ignore is a very situational based thing. Experiment a little, and don't feel obligated to break rules just because you can.

4: Read a lot. Seriously, read a lot of stuff. Classics, new stuff, fanfiction, basically whatever you can get your hands on. Try examining the text for techniques the author uses. If there are particular scenes that you love, read through those! What makes it so good to you? Does the author convey emotions particularly well? Do they use personal/informal language that makes you feel connected to the text? Does their dialogue have a nice balance of realism and cool hero quips? Etc, etc. This also helps a ton with expanding your vocabulary, especially if you try to read books that go a little outside of your comfort zone.

5: If you're having trouble figuring out how to continue a story, there's a decent change you might want to go back farther than you think. Always save what you've started though! Just go back a few sentences, or even paragraphs, and try writing an alternative version. Maybe switch some dialogue, or change the order of actions someone takes. Sometimes a little change can make the rest come more naturally.

6: Seriously though always save your work, even if you intend to scrap a section. Personally, I keep a section at the end of my documents where I host "abandoned paragraphs". Most of them don't end up getting reused, but sometimes reading them gives me new ideas I can input elsewhere, possibly even in an entirely different story.

7: Accept the fact that different writers use different writing processes. Sometimes you might read some tips or suggestions, and they just won't work for you. That's totally normal! Like, I have severe ADHD, so most of the pre-writing/outlining tips I've tried do not work for me at all. Taking notes/planning things out is always a difficult process, but I've slowly figured out a way to balance writing ideas down with storing things inside my brain (my memory is only good when it comes to things my brain hyper focuses on, which thankfully means most of my stories). Don't be afraid to try new things, but don't feel bad if they don't work out.

Hopefully some of that makes sense and is at least somewhat useful. As for my favorite to write, that's a hard choice, and one that probably varies day by day. Right now though, it's probably Cassandra and her soulmate (so specifically for Bound Blood). They're just feral? And unhinged? But in slightly different ways. Makes for fun writing when I get to unleash all the dickery and rudeness that I'm way too polite IRL to normally let out :D

#j says things

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slater-later · 3 years

Text

I Want to Watch You Grow

Brian Kelly x Trans Masc Reader

Read it here on AO3 if you would like!

- This is a Brian Kelly x Trans Man reader fan fic. This conronicles your long term relationship with Brian and your development with yourself. Your body, and transition as a transman.

- I hope everyone enjoys this. Finds space within themselves and their relationship with the world. It’s okay to be trans, being trans is beautiful. it’s a difficult, glorious journey that is far more of a beginning then an end. Living happy life, being proud of yourself and your body.

- The fic is long, about 12 pages. So please, soak it in, and I wish you the happiest day!

The two of you had been dating for some time. You had met at a small high school party. A good group of friends coming together around a Summer bonfire, slipping your feet out from the well worn sandals and wiggling them infront of a fire. The soles of your feet toasted, turning them around to be goldened on both sides. You held a long metal skewer with two plump marshmallows on the end, rotating it around as you warmed it to a golden ball of glory.

It was sweet, being able to spend time with old friends and make some new. Your friend Ronnie had invited the skater kids from school to join you. He had bonded with them over their mutual love for rock and rap music. It made sense, they both loved Public Enemy. Blasting ‘We Got the Power’ out of their car radios whenever they had a chance.

You enjoyed it, they threw out some good rhymes and it was a battle cry for your youth. You generation. You couldn’t help but bob your head to the music and belt along.

It was towards the end of the night when you two met. Brian had showed up late, hair slicked with a heavy line of sweat. A shirt quickly shoved into his pants, trying to clean up for his group of friends after a long day of skating.

He had skipped out of work that day- well, really, the restaurant was slow so there wasn’t much need for two busboys. He had spent the rest of his afternoon and late into the stary night, skating at the skatepark. The street lights clicked on and it had made it hard for him to see the clear edges of the ramps. It was time to turn in and get a bite to eat. Putting aside the new trick he caught from someone else. Trying to nail it.

If he knew it could be done, then he could. He just needed enough time and perseverance to figure it out.

With skating, the possibilities were endless. It was his place to let go of life’s worries and focus on something where had complete control. The complete right to be, what and who he is, with no to tell him otherwise. Skating was like a lifeblood for him, his way of life.

His boundless universe.

He came jogging in, skateboard in hand as he approached the group huddled around the warm fire.

The trees swayed, creaking under the age and weight of their own majesty with a long gust of wind. It was dark, the hum of Summer turning to a deep pitch of haze. Black rolling in, only to be illuminated by the glaze of starfull and a half crescent moon. The forest was thick, lulled by the hum of heated crickets and hushed by the cool breeze of night. Smoke pooling from the warm fire, whisping and licking up the sky with powerful might. Your toes curled, seeking a gentle relief from its delightful burning flame.

They were roasted and baked. You tucked them into the ground, shifting your heals to push back the brush and find a damp, cool, interior.

Brian waved, throwing an arm up to welcome everyone. A boy buzzed in the background, rolling a hit out of a cheaply made bong. Coughing as he blew out his lungs. Stoned till’ the cows come home.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, it uh, took me a while to find you guys,” He smiled, strolling on into the circle and making his way over to Yabbo. Giving him a high five and saying hello to Buddy.

You popped your marshmallow onto a graham cracker and some chocolate. You munched on your treat, washing it down with a sip of beer.

You watched Brian that night, catching his eyes as he chatted with Buddy over some trick he had been captivated by. Transfixed on trying to nail, to, gleam the cube.

He noticed, his shit stain smirk would appear even in mid sentence. Hands flailing out, gesturing and expressing his exasperation on some wild tangent he was on about skating. About life. About love. It was amusing to watch him, loud and audacious as he was. He could even make Buddy loud, who was normally a quiet and reserved guy. Get him chuckling about some silly joke he made, and pairing it with an audacious face. Hands whipped out, a cross between a dragon and a gorilla.

You had finished off your second beer, musing with a friend about the stars as you gazed. Heads turned up, pondering the wide expanse of space. Its’ glorious bounds, its beauty, its’ wonder.

It put things in perspective for you. Not in a scary way, but in a comforting one. That sometimes, our emotions can feel massive. And they can be! But they also fall away, soothe and ease, as we realize, this shall pass. As all things. Even life. And so, what we must work towards is enjoying it. Like moments like these- feet kicked up on a stump, back eased into a lawn chair with a good beer in hand, spending time with friends. The summer breeze cooling your warm skin, still tanned and glowing from a long day spent outside. Walking, running, and spending time with those that mattered to you. You can’t steal back time, but instead, enjoy it.

Brian tapped Buddy’s shoulder, gesturing for him to shift over as he stood up. Slicking to the outside of the circle, making his way over.

He stopped at the bag of mellows, nabbing two and popping one in his mouth. Munching on its sugary goodness as he finished the trip. Sliding down and popping on the ground, criss-cross-apple-sauce style.

You picked your chin up from the stars, turning your head towards him, “Hey.”

“Hey,” He smiled tiredly, softly. It had grown late and the group had died down, calming and chatting amongst themselves. “So, I uh, don’t think I caught your name,” He mused, chuckling with an anxious delight. He had caught your fancy and talking to attractive people always made his insides flutter.

“It’s Y/N, what’s yours?” You smiled, letting out a tiny yawn, hand hovering over your mouth.

And on command, it was his turn. “Briannn.” He said, pushing through his wide open mouth, eyes turning to closed slits. Watering.

“Jesus, I’m beat,” He muttered, whipping his eyes.

“You too?” You couldn’t stop, the two of you speaking through widely stretched mouths, yawning and releasing the tired souls of your body out into the air. Like ghosts being exercised.

“Yeah!” He squeaked, putting his hand over his mouth. This time his mouth reaching out farther. As if a shark could unhinge its massive jaw.

Slowly, both of yours bodies cooled down. Chatted about the quiet, peaceful sounds of the forest. How the night made your feel alive, at ease within your own body. It was easy talking with such a nice man, cracking soft jokes and poking fun at the world. The politicians, the fat cats, and parents. Some stupid shit a drunk girl did at school, how the one guy on the football team fucked the head swimmer and stirred drama in the theatre group. He had been dating Jared, but it all fell for shit when he saw Sam in those swim trunks.

You both agreed, he looked mighty fine in the spandex speedo. And Tom did too, especially when he found out how kind he was.

“So who do you think is the biggest class clown? Don or Vinny?” You mused, shifting your weight in your seat. Turning towards him.

“Ahhh, I’m not so sure. Vinny is my man, but I really like Tabitha-”

“That bitch?” You shot, clicking your tongue. “She fucking stole $20 out of my backpack, fuck her!”

His eyebrows knitted, looking disappointed. “Yeahhh, she ain’t very nice. I disagree with you there,” He looked at the blaze, shaking his head. “But it’s not a ‘frienship’ competition. I give her props pouring that bottle of stinky slick on that jerk in Ceramics. That one that makes all those gross racist comments in school.” Fuck him for his piece of shit mind. There was no reason to be like that.

“-Ugh!” Your eyes rolled, shaking your head, “I know, I fucking hate him. He’s a piece of shit,” Internally you groaned, thinking of his disgusting face.

“For that, I respect her. The fool won’t change his mind and he needs to learn that he can’t do shit like that. It’s not like he’ll listen, I’ve tried,” He popped a mellow into his mouth, chewing. “She got 3 days of suspension for that. It was pretty ballsy,” Shitting on racist was both funny and satisfying.

“What-? Why did she get that-?”

He shrugged, looking amazed, “I don’t know. It’s fucked up, that’s school for ya. It’s not right.”

You shook your head disgusted. If only they would understand, listen. “Ok, so, who has your favorite comedy?

“-Sam,” He smiled, poking a branch into the fire.

You watched him stir up the flame, picking at a log and turning it over.

“Same, he’s really nice. He’s quiet but he has a smart tongue on him,” Slowly the fire grew. Emboldened by the new life, “Tom’s really lucky.”

Brian shot you a look, teeth flashing in a grin, “Cuz Jared’s so hot?”

You shot up in your seat, pushing yourself closer to him- “Okay though, right?!” Brian burst out laughing, head thrown back as he boomed.

You waved your hands up into the air, desperately. “He has those pecs! Those thick arms! I just wanna be hugged by him!” He was a big tall teddy bear! A muscular one too! Who doesn’t love a big teddy bear?!

“I know, I know!” He slapped his knee, face red and warm, and it wasn’t from the booze. “He’s cute! He’s really cute!” He laughed, smiling through his big open mouth.

The two of you talked for the rest of the night, making another round of smores and sipping on the last of your cold beer. It was easy, talking to him. You found a kind of warm comfort and acceptance by such a free soul. By someone who really just wanted to be seen and heard, and loved for who he was.

*****

That night would bloom into many others. A few months you spent together, as friends, and the others, as lovers. You slowly got to know each other over time progressed. Eventually, love bloomed. Infatuation took to desire, day dreaming about the next time you’d see him. Hand propping your chin, staring off into a whiteboard filled with math equations as the teacher droned on. The last week of school was a buzzkill, bittersweet, and painfully long.

You wanted it to end. For it to be Summer, to be scott-free and without responsibilities. But that also brought changes and your second stage of life was on the horizon.

****

The time came and both of you decided to take a year off from college. Work and save up some money. Spend time together as much you can.

You planned on going away to school a few hours away. Brian hadn’t quite decided, but it looked to be the same.

Both of you would attend the same school and it would work out well. Eventually, you both got through the next four years with your brains intact for the better. He majored in music production with a minor in entrepreneurship. He wanted to do something in music, start his own band and maybe build his own label. You majored in _____ and loved it. And your relationship had lasted, strengthened. Finding a quiet peace and home in one another. A thing you quietly wished for in your heart and didn’t know you needed until you found it.

The freedom to be yourself with another. One who would love and accept you, regardless of the circumstances and the changes.

But it didn’t always make it easy. You had been having feelings about your body. Ones that you didn’t quite like and found increasingly frustrating to have. To not have the words, the names, to understand and express how you felt.

You already knew you weren’t straight. That had long been established to yourself and to Brian’s knowledge. He didn’t care- well, that wasn’t quite the right way to put it. He was supportive of your queerness and actually encouraged it. You both were fluid as a snake- bodies and gender thrown right out of the door. What mattered was the person, the attraction, and the two of you- had a lot of that for one another.

He also wasn’t one to put up many questions about the way you dressed. Switching out fem for? Masculine? He was game. He liked your style, even sowed on some patches on your jacket when he asked. Though as time wore on, catching the way you shield away from your chest… Your feelings about your body… He noticed.

“Hey babe?” He slid into the frame of the doorway, hand grasping the side of the wood as he leaned in. Watching you do your hair, clothed, and fixing your hair.

“Yeah? What’s up?” You looked at him through the mirror, running a comb through your head. “Is my coffee ready?”

“Yeah, it’s on the kitchen table. With your toast,” He walked in, looking quiet. Tentative. “Can I talk to you about something?”

You turned, “Yeahhhh…” Your voice fluttered, knowing that face he makes. It made you uneasy. “What do you wanna talk about?”

“Are you… alright? You’ve been distant lately, like somethings on your mind,” He paused, looking down. Guilty, “Did I do something wrong? Are we alright?” He leaned his back against the wall, thumbs hooked into his jean pockets. Glancing up at you.

You set down the brush, turning, “Yeah,” You coed softly. Tenderly to the sweet man, “We’re okay, I’m just going through some stuff,” It was easier to put that into words. You needed time to figure things out, to share how you felt. You didn’t even have them for yourself, at least not clearly.

You hoped time would reveal itself, help your understand and work through what you were feeling.

And you didn’t know how it would change you. Or, for the matter, Brian. Your relationship with him.

He gestured to you, beat, “Do you.. Wanna talk about it?”

It fell on silence, unsure.

“Yes… but not now. I need some time,” You stepped, drawing his eyes.

“Like… how long?” It was bugging him, an itch he can’t scratch. A problem he saw, a frustration he can’t touch.

It was yours, and one that effected him. He wanted you happy and content.

To ease your pain.

“I’m not sure,” You slipped a hand into his and locked fingers together. Drawing his hand up and lined your hips with his. Brian’s other slip around your waist, pulling you close. “You’re going to have to wait, to trust me until I’m ready to talk about it. But I do love you- and it’s not because of you,” You pressed your lips to his, slowly lifting them away. “Or something you’ve done. We’re okay.”

“Alright, I just-” He looked into your eyes, vulnerable. “I want you to be happy, no matter what. Whatever it is.”

“And I thank you for that, I really do. I appreciate it,” Another press, lips locked, tongues twisting for a moment.

“Oh? Is someone?”

You laughed, caught red-handed, “Yeah, a bit.” You mused.

****

And for a while, it was left like that. You ordered yourself a proper binder and he was properly happy for you, seeing you excited to go and slip it on as soon as it came in the mail. You checked yourself out in the mirror, beaming as you found a sense of newfound confidence and comfort in your appearance. Your body.

He liked the way you smelled after you changed deodorants. You smelled rich and musky, one that you both adored. For him, it was intoxicating. Even picked up your armpit in bed as you yelped, his head buried in your pit to get a good whiff of your scent. Both of you sent laughing and shouting and you play fought in bed, beating back the monster you so endearingly loved.

“Fucking hell Brian!! Give me my arm back!”

“No! Never!” He bellowed, hand tightening around your wrist, pinning it against the wall as your feet kicked against him. He loved it, making you mad and crazy at the same time.

Tickling was your enemy! One that he used and abused, to get you laughing and squirming as he tied his body around yes. Pressing kisses to your cheek like a woodpecker.

****

Eventually, you found answers. The internet helped and a good stack of books about gender. It worked to ease your feelings about your body and the amount of envy you had for the masculine. It was difficult at first, being able to sort through attraction and gender envy at the same time. Slowly, you found answers. A confirmation of your feelings and way of life. The amount of euphoria you received when the simple stranger called you ‘man’ or ‘sir’ felt glorious. Elating and at home with yourself in a way that felt right. A homecoming.

You started to approach the subject with Brian. The two of you were friends with trans people, but it still felt fresh. Weird, and confusing to go through yourself. Being trans still didn’t give you cut and dry answers, it was a journey. A grey area because, even through they had gone through that journey, it was still personal. You had to find answers for yourself and the world is a weird, wild place.

But, it didn’t mean you were something else. Or strange for that matter- you were you, and that’s what mattered. You were exploring.

You two had been laying in bed. A quiet Saturday day spent outside, running errands and going to the farmers market to buy fresh produce and bread. It was lovely and peaceful. You guys had turned into bed early, curled under a soft comforter as you sprawled out in bed. The sun had set.

“Hey,” You whispered, dusting a piece of long hair out of his face. He was turned towards you, a fit of blankets wrapped around him as his body cupped towards yours.

“Hey,” He yawned, eyes fluttering in sleepiness.

You dusted a finger along his jaw, his chest slowly rising and falling. A ham all baked like a warm potato. “Can we talk?”

He shifted his head closer to your touch, liking the way you slowly stroked his skin. “Yeah, what’s up?” He yawned.

“I’ve been thinking, for a while now. That I might be trans,” You paused, wanting to release the next few words from your brain. “I think I am.”

“Oh?” He shifted up, sitting up now and trying to wake up his brain. Serious conversation time. “Really?” His voice was kind, asking for confirmation.

You nodded, “Yes.”

“As in nonbinary or trans masc?” He ran a hand through his hair, swooping the fluff back. Pulling himself together.

You laughed, feeling the butterflies swarm in your stomach. “Trans masculine.”

“Okay,” he smiled, nodding. Taking it in. “So uh, what do you want to do? If anything at all?”

“Honey-” You pestered, giving him a look.

“I’m asking! That’s up to you!” He was ginger, trying not to pry but dying inside. The questions!

“Clothes, that’s for one thing.”

“You’re already wearing my boxers- we gotta get you more of those.”

You had been stealing them from him. They were comfy, among other things. You couldn’t help but crack a guilty smile. He had mentioned it before when he had ran out, pissed because he hated wearing dirty ones.

“And shirts, and some good cuffed jeans-” You added.

“Dickie’s has those, we can thrift you Carhart’s from Goodwill.”

You paused, holding your breath. Holding onto the next few words, as if they couldn’t be taken back. Releasing them into the world, “And transitioning. I think I want to do that too.”

He reached for your hand, his thumb stroking your palm as the two of you laid in bed. Him looking down at you as your sprawled out, your elbow propping yourself up. “Okay, if that’s what you want, I support you. I want that too,” He pulled up your hand and pressed his lips to them softly. Firmly intertwining his fingers with yours, squeezing them tightly. Securely.

“Do you want to go by different pronouns? A name?”

“Yes, I want to be named Y/N,” You smiled, feeling his hands pull you in. Draw around you in a deep hug as he slid down to your level, comforting and embracing you. “I want to go by he/him pronouns.” You chuckled against his skin, head buried into the crook of his neck.

“Well hello my Prince, I’m so glad to meet you Y/N,” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, smiling through it as your heart brust. Crying in relief, in tears of joy and relief.

“You’re not mad?” You squeaked, tears rolling down your cheek.

“Baby~” He purred, pulling back, to look into your eyes. “Of course not, I want you to be happy. You’re precious to me,” He said, soothing you. “Is this what’s been bothering you?”

You nodded.

“I’ve been… wondering about it,” He mused. “I kinda figured it out after you bought your binder and started shaving your face. You barely had peach fuz but you looked so happy… so, much more bright that day,” You had slowly been trying things out. Listening to your body and how you felt. Changing your style, presenting more masculine. You even bought clothes from the men’s section and started to let go using gender specific pronouns for yourself. To ease the pain of dysphoria while you figured out feelings. Your therapist helped.

“But I’ve been waiting until you tell me, that’s your stuff,” He wiped your chin, brushing off the stream of tears. “I know you’d tell me eventually, whatever your answer was- I want to support you. I chose that long ago, I stand by that.” He smiled, adding, “And if things change in the future, that’s okay too. Gender and bodies are a tricky thing.”

There was so many choices- my so options- in how trans people choose to express themselves. All of them are valid, it’s what makes you happy is the most important thing. What aligns with yourself.

“Thank you,” You sniffled, peaking out a smile. You were happy, and now tired, and just wanted to curl up in bed. The rush of emotions flooding your system, the bent of stress and relief washing over your system. Draining you.

You wanted to feel this moment in its security, its acceptance. “That means a lot to me Brian.”

“Of course- and for what it matters-” He leaned into your ear, whispering, “I think you make a handsome man. And will continue too.”

“It doesn’t change things- between us?”

He shrugged, unfazed, “I don’t think so. I’m attracted to you and I like men so-” Another quizzical look, “I don’t see how it would change things in that department. I think I need to know more but I don’t think so.”

You raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I want to read more about it so I can help you. I know it can be hard for trans people to get the resources they need to transition. We’re going to both go through this and I want to help you. -If that’s what you want, of course.”

“Oh! Okay,” you nodded. You slid down together, laying in each others arms. Curled underneath the seats, your tears dried up. Heart shining. “I want that, your help. I fucking hate calling the doctors office.”

He laughed, “I know! I know!” You would get stressed, talking on the phone could be weird sometimes. It made you anxious.

You tucked your head into his chest, hearing it beat with the life you held so closely. His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. “Thank you Bri, for everything.”

“Of course Y/N,” He spoke softly, warm. “I love you, you’re my everything.”

The two of you drifted off to sleep in bed, listening to the sound of Summer rain come in through the window. Drops slapping against the hard concrete, easing you into a deep slumber.

****

The two of you got along better after that. You were able to save up enough money to see a gender therapist. A general practice doctor that specialized in transgender health, giving you access to the hormone treatments you so desperately needed.

The changes came slow at first, the T being newly added to your system. Eventually, the body hair came in. Sprouting up your legs and turning thicker, darker, up your knees. Your body weight shifted, redistributing around your body with a healthy addition of exercise. Your jaw widened, spotting itself with facial hair which you so proudly grew. Cleaned up and trimmed, sculpting it to your desire.

That was one of your favorite moments. When you asked Brian to show you how he shaved his face. He pulled out of his bag of clippers, helped you learn how to wash your face and spread shaving cream on your face. How to guide the razor against your skin, trimming the well grown facial hair.

“-Like this- you gotta go against the grain if you want it smooth,” You were both creamed up, with your hair clipped back. He had a headband pushing his strands back, keeping it from falling into his face.

“Okay,” You mumbled in front of the mirror, guiding the razor across your skin. Wincing when you nicked yourself and hoping you don’t do that again.

“It’ll get easier, trust me,” He assured, slicking the last bit of cream off of his clean face. He mostly kept himself clean shaven, though there was a time where he rocked a thin mustache. Even some musky stubble around his cheeks. Which you loved.

And so was your transition.

In time, you qrew to love and enjoy your body even more. Seeing the face you so expected- and wished for- being reflected in the mirror. Muscles come in, adjusting your body shape to one that you desired.

Brian was very supportive. Even helped you find a good doctor for your top surgery. He pitched in money for your procedure, taking some extra hours as the store manager at the record shop where he worked. He was planning on taking it over from the owner in a few years. He had helped them expand into a second storefront. He was proud of it.

He drove you to your surgery, making sure you had everything prepared. Extra magazines, music, books, even your sketch pad and journal if you so wished it. You would sleep after your surgery in the hospital bed, groggy and tired from the boat load of meds and painkillers lulling you to a peaceful state. He wanted to make sure you were content, that you healed well and passed the time while you recovered. The tiny hospital tv having few channels to capture your attention. He ready to help you pass the time.

After your surgery, you couldn’t move your arms very much. At least not above your head. It would pull at your incisions, the area bruised and draining of fluids. He would tend to you, changing your bandages and helping you get things from the kitchen cupboards. Asking you to relax and let him take over- when you insisted on cooking dinner. That you felt fine, that the pain wasn’t too bad. Even though your chest ached, he didn’t want you to push yourself.

It was okay to lean on someone else, to let them tend to you at times in need.

He adored you and embraced the new found man you had become. He liked hearing you softly talk into his ear, listening to how your voice had dropped. Had changed, deepened, and thickened. It was an adventure for the both of you, one that you happily embraced and found a new home. In you, yourself, and each other.

He was proud to call you his boyfriend, his favorite man on Earth.

#gleaming the cube #brian kelly #brian kelly x reader #brian kelly x trans masc reader #brian kelly x transman reader #brian kelly x transgender #trans #trans man #fan fic #tyler writes #queer fan fic #queer #i fucking loved writing this fic #gender euphoria #its okay to be trans #being trans is BEAUTIFUL!#happy and healthy relationships #based in love and support for one another #wholesome

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slasherscream · 4 years

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A/N: shout-out to that one anon on bloodybrahms’ blog forever ago where they were like ginger fitzgerald x jennifer check x jd x reader. their mind?? i haven’t known peace since seeing the concept.

coincidentally, you as well, will never know a moment of peace again.

your relationship is overflowing with chaos. you can’t let your guard down for even a second because that’s the exact moment one of your partners will choose to strike and do some absolute bullshit™. it is imperative that you never take your eyes off them or leave any of them on their own.

if you cannot stay with them at all times at least take care to make sure you never leave all three of them alone together. nothing good has ever come from you doing this.

you act as the impulse control for all three of your partners. they straight up don’t know how to act without you around.

let’s talk about the chaotic dynamics and features of this relationship, shall we-

○ ginger and jennifer ....where to start. they dislike each other so much, both on the fundamental levels of their personalities and also as supernatural entities. werewolves and demons aren’t like…. natural enemies or anything but they can be Genuine Threats™ to one another so their hackles are always a little raised around each other.

○ that aside, jennifer is the exact type of girl ginger hated in high-school. she took one glance at jennifer and said "what a fucking vapid wanna-be barbie looking slut" and she hasn't changed her mind since.

○ meanwhile, jennifer thinks ginger is just.... beneath her. she wouldn't have hated a girl like ginger back in high-school because she never would've fucking noticed her. once she is forced to acknowledge ginger as a sentient, living being due to your poly relationship she's just.... aggravated by her. if jennifer had to put into words what she doesn't like about the other girl it would be how fucking judgmental she is. absolutely rich coming from jennifer of all people but she's serious! you're gonna sit here.... and hate her.... because she's popular and sexy?? are you fucking twelve?? you mangy, pathetic, edgy, "i only listen to evanescence" ass bitch (and she means the bitch part literally.)

at best their relationship could MAYBE wind up like that exchange from jumanji: welcome to the jungle:

Professor Shelly Oberon : Seriously, I can't even open my mouth around you. You don't even know me, but you, like, decided you hate me.

Ruby Roundhouse : Look, I just think you live in, like, the "hot popular girl" bubble, you know, where everybody either treats you like a princess or like an object. Maybe it makes you a little self-absorbed or something?

Professor Shelly Oberon : That's fair. But do you think that maybe the reason why you are so judgy is because you are like afraid that people are not gonna like you, so you've decided not to like them first? I'm just saying, you're a babe, go with it.

but realistically they will never have a conversation this open and honest. they'll stick to bickering and being catty, thank you very much. occasionally they are so catty that they start literally fighting and yes, your house will get destroyed every time some shit pops off between them. please have everything insured.

○ funnily enough they both like/love jd!! off the bat they both find him incredibly attractive. jennifer saw him and said "yummy.com, much?" ginger did not say anything but watched him like a hungry....well, wolf. honestly though looks weren't enough to keep either of them interested in someone when they were plain human and un-traumatized let alone now. in fact, considering that jennifer is a succubus her finding jd hot only put him in danger adjkl.

○ lucky for him he was surprisingly resistant to her physical charm/succubus powers/allure when she first approached him, planning to make him her next meal. while she totally took his disinterest as a challenge because uhm?? are you fucking blind?? i'm a fucking buffet?? all i serve is looks?? it also made her respect him quite a bit. jennifer takes very few people seriously. her respecting someone so soon after meeting them is actually a way bigger deal than her liking them.

○ jd takes some time to warm up to jennifer but not as much as you'd think? while he might roll his eyes at her popular, mean girl shtick he's very observant and sees that there's more to jennifer than meets the eye.

○ the fact that he doesn't immediately hop into her bed just because she sticks her chest out gives him enough time to see beneath her surface and surprises her enough that she let's him. there are plenty of things he likes about her. he admires the way she can just...bend the world to her will. when she wants something she gets it, no matter what. he loves that?? she's very dynamic and bold. excitement either follows her or she chases after it. and unlike a lot of charismatic or popular people jennifer lacks the one trait jd absolutely can't stand being fake. jennifer doesn't hide the fact that she's a stone cold bitch. she always says exactly what she means or what's on her mind. overall jennifer is an addicting personality to have around and even jd falls for her charm eventually.

○ jennifer won't say it but realizing jd actually cares about her and likes her as a person is what makes her fall, you know because she's a fucking narcissist... just kidding. it catches her off guard for someone to fall for her because of who she is and not what she looks like. it makes her vulnerable for just long enough that she sees all the things that are good about jd and BOOM, she's in love. now she's got two mates and one annoying hang around whom she also has sex with because she's not hideous (her mate, ginger is also her mate, she just likes ginger less than she likes the two of you.)

○ ginger loves jd's intensity. they're pretty much ' same hat! ' relationship wise.

ginger: men are fucking worthless jd: *walks around fucking unhinged* ginger: ....one man allowed

○ she genuinely loves his personality and he genuinely loves hers right on back. they're kind of just...mirrors of each other in a lot of ways but there's just enough difference between them that they don't piss each other off. other than their tempers they get along really well because they think the same way?? have the same ideas?? want to do the same things?? kill the same people?? you know bonding shit. they're kind of perfect together? they completely understand one another. they are probably the most like-minded of the whole relationship, not the closest, but they think pretty much the exact same shit, i cannot emphasize this enough. they can make eye contact and know exactly what the other is thinking and they love that. lowkey best friends. highkey you cannot let them go on dates alone.

○ where do you fit in here? uhm you're the glue and stability of this relationship. sure they all love or begrudgingly (and secretly) like each other but you're like.... gravity. essential and holding the world together, keeping everything balanced. you were probably the start of the relationship to begin with. they all knew you and were growing to love you separately and then each realized they had competition but while they were trying to fight each other off they just sorta...got used to one another. and none of them were willing to give you up so it's lucky they decided to share or it would've been a fucking bloodbath to put it lightly. none of them have self control or boundaries. to get what they want they'd all go ridiculously far... i don't know what's farther than murder but they'd do it.

○ they all depend on you emotionally, honestly. you're their closest friend, the person they can be vulnerable with, someone they trust to take care of them in the way that matters most. they love you because you make them all feel....human (even jd who is the only actual human besides you. but you get the point.)

sometimes they get jealous of each other, which is ridiculous, because you're almost always together as a group. you do occasionally go off in pairs or to separate outings/activities/dates but generally?? you're all together. it's typically more like-

ginger: you've been hanging off y/n all fucking day, jennifer! they barely fucking smell like me anymore. jennifer: what's so bad about that? you smell fucking disgusting- jd: *grabs ginger around the waist before she can jump across the kitchen counter and beat jen's ass*

however!! there isn't as much inter-group jealously as you'd believe! they actually enjoy having a relationship involving four people.

it feels very secure to them? first off they all feel better in regards to you. they don't worry so much about anything happening to you because you have three over-protective partners who would die and kill for you. they also don't worry about you leaving them because you're so.... you. unlike other, unnamed people they so desperately clung to in the past they know you're not going anywhere. they feel secure enough in their connection with you to be as codependent as possible :)))

(also.... you couldn't leave if you tried lmao. get away from one of them? sure maybe. get away from all three?? *cue clown music* they'd use ginger as a hunting hound and track you by scent alone.)

the four person relationship feels incredible to ginger because it satisfies her need to have a pack? she'd only ever had her sister before and you know how....close, they were. having more than one, single person to be emotionally attached to/invested in really helps center ginger? it also makes it easier to be in a relationship with her? she can be very intense and focused and she puts a lot of energy into her relationship. having that focus and intensity spread out amongst multiple partners is great for her and for them.

jennifer only ever really felt connected to one person, needy. losing her was....a lot. she never thought she'd be close to anyone again let alone to three people. she can't stand the mutt sometimes but she loves you and jd!! and she loves being loved. not lusted after. not admired. not envied. loved, genuinely loved. she may be a demon, she might not have a soul anymore, but she does have a heart, and every day she's with the three of you it feels a little less broken.

since the..."untimely" death of jd's mother (and arguably, even while she was still alive) he's never had any roots. no solid connection. no one to belong to or with. before you, ginger, and jennifer he was just...drifting. when you three came into his life it was like hearing a sudden gunshot in the middle of a calm forest. it was electrifying, and maybe even a little scary. he went from having absolutely nothing to having everything, all at once. for the first time in a long time he has something to be grateful for. he would do anything for the three of you. he'd burn the world to the ground just to see you three smile.

jd goes on several motorcycle rides a week because while you guys have like two cars...he keeps his motorcycle because jennifer, ginger and you think it's hot and none of you are very practical. he must treat all of you to the delight that is the wind flowing through your hair while you're on the back of his bike. jennifer doesn't like helmet hair but she likes the sexiness factor. ginger likes that it's dangerous so jd always speeds when he's with her, you're not sure how they don't get arrested??

date nights are such a nightmare because you guys are all very opinionated?? and particular. you and jd are probably the most easy-going but that doesn't really help because jennifer and ginger are always going to be picky about what you guys wind up doing and they'll say no to whatever the other suggests just on principal. just for their own amusement.

ginger, jennifer and jd are so over-protective of you. you're such a delicate little human?? how have you been surviving without them?? you need them to take care of you.

sometimes you'll be like "why the fuck aren't you two stifling jd? he's a human too!!" and they're like "no he's different" which is such bullshit but also like....jd is fucking unhinged. he can take care of himself. you are their baby.

ginger and jennifer are forever arguing about who is going to transform you and jd. you would think they’d at least agree that one of you is gonna get turned into a demon and one will become a werewolf, at least for the sake of balance, but they literally can’t even agree on THAT let alone which supernatural creature you or jd will wind up as. you two have minimal input in this choice sorry :/ this is werewolf and succubus beef. humans be silent.

you staying human isn't a choice because humans are weak and die so quickly. unacceptable?? ginger is gonna live a long ass time and jennifer is probably immortal. they are not winding up stuck with each other just because you and jd thought you could escape them in death?? fuck you.

ginger needs all three of you to smell like her. yes, even jennifer. but mostly you and jd as you're her two humans and Preferred Mates. jennifer can smell her scent on you all but she doesn't need to smell it?? it's not instinctual?? meanwhile it straight up gives ginger anxiety when you guys don't smell like her. it's just part of werewolf mating. honestly while ginger smells different from humans she doesn't smell like dog, jennifer just likes to say that to piss her off. if she did smell like dog jennifer wouldn't touch her and would gripe any time she touched you or jd.

cuddling is such a fucking nightmare. you guys have the biggest couch in the world and it's still a fucking ordeal. every two person couple activity is fucking ordeal for local poly couple.

it's a debate every time about who's going to sit where or who's going to hold who. oh jennifer likes to sit on the armrest? cool. except she wants to cuddle with you, but you want to sit in the middle today, and jd wants his arms around you, but ginger is laying in his lap and refuses to move cause he was riding on his bike too long today and stopped smelling like her so she'll bite him if he moves.

your life is literally that "man has to get a fox, a chicken, and a sack of corn across a river." riddle i'm so fucking sorry for you.

jennifer likes to buy you and jd clothes. she stopped bothering getting stuff for ginger because the mutt is always so ungrateful of jennifer's taste in clothing. to be fair jennifer only buys a few things that are a bit out of you or jd's comfort range, she tends to buy things that will make you look hot but that you'd also get for yourself.

jd goes shopping with her because he doesn't like leaving any of his partners alone for long. like he doesn't enjoy it he's also not going to bitch about it like other "dutiful" boyfriends who are left holding a few shopping bags and purses. you can't go out with your girlfriend and hold her shit for her for a couple hours?? can't give her a few minimal responses on whether something looks good or bad??? fuck you. also stop looking at his girlfriend before he pulls out his gun.

they all encourage the worst of each others possessiveness. not only because being around each other makes it feel normal because they all agree this is a perfectly healthy amount of possessiveness but also because they all think of being possessive as something romantic. you know they love you because they'll rip apart anyone who looks at you for two long!!!

when you wake up in the morning it's chaos. someone's hair is always in someone's mouth and ginger is a very wild sleeper. especially as it gets closer to the full moon. one of you will wind up on the floor even though you have two king mattresses pushed together. jennifer is one second away from tying ginger up before the four of you go to bed.

you don't really have to worry much about ginger's transformation?? like she won't hurt you and jd during it because she knows that you two are her mates, she's pretty docile around you two (for a werewolf). she knows that jennifer is her...something so she doesn't try to hurt her but she's also not gonna roll over and show her belly.

if anything does go wrong like ginger gets out/away from you all or out of control jennifer can get her back or put her in check no problem. werewolf cuts/bites don't hurt more than any other type of gnarly injury so jennifer is fine with doing it.

that's one of the ways you can tell jennifer gives a shit about ginger actually. even when ginger will fight her viciously when she's a werewolf jennifer mostly just does things to restrain her, not to hurt her. you'd never point that out though because just to prove she's not soft jennifer might break one of ginger's ribs or some shit next time.

the big concern is making sure ginger doesn't get hurt or caught. jd and jen don't care if she hurts anyone else frankly adjkl. to try and keep ginger running off to a minimum (because it's very hard to keep a werewolf somewhere it doesn't want to be) right before a turn jennifer will bring her own.... food, back to the house and her and ginger will kill them together?? it satiates some of the blood-lust and makes the transformations easier.

all three of these bastards will try and kiss you or fuck you while you're covered in blood and it's a nightmare!! somehow one of them is always covered in blood!! even if jd wasn't directly involved in a killing he will come home covered in blood because he made out or had sex with one of the girls while they were covered in blood. he thinks they're beautiful when they're blood thirsty :)))

none of them are great at emotions but all three of them together almost make one-functional human being!! and they are all, to their credit, aware of the fact that they aren't great with feelings so they are already naturally over-compensating to make sure they're always taking care of all your needs.

you: on the phone with a friend complaining about your day, minding your own business the three of them: *manifest from nowhere because their "you having human contact that isn't them" sense was tingling ginger: *snatches your phone and hangs up on your friend* jennifer: *sits in your lap* jd: *wraps an arm around you* why don't you tell us about your day, darling?

a well-oiled machine anyone?

no friends!!! only them!! you are a pack!! you are mates!! you're a family!!! fuck anyone else.

#jd x reader #jennifer check x reader #ginger fitzgerald x reader #jennifer check imagine #heathers imagine #jennifer's body #heathers #jason dean #slasher x reader #ginger fitzgerald x jennifer check x jd x reader #this got so long adjkl #*posts this after like writing for an hour* FUCK done finally #i hope my soul can rest now that's i've written my ultra poly ship

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jadethest0ne · 3 years

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In need of Refueling, Chapter 8 - Torrent

Summary: “You?! Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure. Time and time again; nothing but disappointment!”

His father’s words might have been a result of his possession by the White Bone Spirit, but whether or not they were his true thoughts, Red Son vows to prove them wrong. To do so he seeks to attain a power strong enough to destroy his father’s immortal enemy. After all, he’d much rather throw fire at his problems.

Word Count: 3739

Ratings/Warnings: Teen and up; injury, burns, angst and hurt/comfort, toxic thoughts caused by toxic parents, panic attacks, abuse

Notes: I got excited and decided to post the next chapter early. This fic is still going to be Red Son-centric, but I do want to focus a lot on MK. I think it'd be fun to explore some of his issues, including the darker parts of him. He's a good and kind-hearted kid, but at times has been shown to be a bit petty, impatient, and selfish. And like Red Son, I find it interesting to see what he'd do if pushed. I'd also like to point out that some of this chapter includes semi-competent JTTW lore (thanks again, Lem, for your help with that)!

Credits: Big thanks to @painted-arachnid and @simplyfornardo for helping me bounce ideas off of them. And also thanks to @lemonsqueazie for providing me with “Journey to the West” lore. I don’t know much about the original novel or other iterations, but I still tried to keep some things compliant with the lore. You should check all of them out, since they’re really great content creators with neat ideas!

Read on AO3

———-

Wind flows from MK in angry waves as he lands in between the Monkey King and DBK. If the stakes weren’t so dire, he’d think about how cool of a superhero landing that was. The blue fire has spread around the area, and though his landing pushed some of it back, none of it was extinguished. Fear flutters in his chest at coming face to face with the same power that had seemingly consumed his mentor, and it flares even more so to realize that this time it was DBK who seemed to be wielding the fire, and not Red Son. He glances on either side of his enemy to see Princess Iron Fan trying to put out some flames that had caught on her dress, and Red Son lying unconscious farther away. DBK seems off. It reminds him of when he was possessed by that weird white ghost before. An unhinged Demon Bull King wielding the very fire that could kill the Monkey king? Not good.

“Kid?!” calls a weak voice from behind him.

“Monkey King!” All thought and focus leaves him as he looks to the voice of his injured mentor. He’s still alive! The Monkey King looks angry. Or in pain?

“Look out, Kid!” he rasps.

MK turns around to see DBK charging at him, eyes ablaze. Before he can react, a giant, metallic fist slams into DBK, throwing him out of the way of MK.

“I got your back, MK!” Mei calls from the cockpit of the Monkey Mech that had entered the scene.

MK smiles up at her and waves. “Thanks Mei!”

“You check on the Monkey King! I’ll hold DBK off!” she says with a salute and takes giant leaps meeting DBK as he resumes his charge.

MK nods and rushes to his mentor’s side. He doesn’t look good. His fur is singed and parts of his clothes are blackened and ripped. Not only that, but there’s a flare of blue fire coming from his left side and right hand. MK reaches out to him. He doesn’t know what he can do, but he wants to help.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Monkey King shouts in a strained snarl.

MK flinches at the harsh command and his hands pause midair. He looks on helplessly as Monkey King wheezes and coughs, as if his yell took all his energy. MK brings his hands to his chest and tugs at his shirt as anxiety tugs at his heart.

The Monkey King’s expression turns to something softer and more sympathetic, and he corrects quickly, “No, no, kid.” He pants trying to catch his breath. “Y-you can’t touch me. You might catch on fire, too. You-- you need to go--” he says before devolving into wheezing coughs.

MK lets go of his shirt and clenches his fists. He wouldn’t let his mentor get in trouble trying to protect him again. “No, I need to help! I’m- I’m the hero guy now! I can do this!” He locks eyes with the Monkey King giving him a fierce and determined look.

The Monkey King stares back, steadily reading his student’s expression, before closing them and giving a nod. He looks up at MK with a strained, but proud smile and trusting eyes.

MK smiles back. Though it worries him that the Monkey King seems to be having trouble even talking right now, having his mentor’s affirmation means everything to him.

Suddenly a metallic screech blares behind him, so grating that he has to hold his hands to his ears. Turning around he sees DBK latching onto the Monkey Mech’s fist, twisting its metal, and grappling the giant mech to the ground. Flames twist around the fist and travel upward to the face of the mech, blooming into a fiery explosion.

“MEI!” MK screams as worry fills his heart. For a second he can’t breathe as he sees blue flames envelop the cockpit area, obscuring any sight of his best friend.

A streak of blue flies upward out of the head of the mech and for a moment MK thinks that it’s the flames flying even higher, until he realizes that it’s humanoid shaped. As the streak arcs downward he recognizes that it’s Sandy! With Pigsy and Mr. Tang hanging on his shoulders! And Mei held protectively in his arms!

He lands next to MK with a smile, a hearty laugh, and smoke trailing behind him. “Hello, MK! I brought some friends!”

Pigsy and Mr. Tang jump off quickly and rush to his side. He lets Mei down gently, who wobbles slightly and holds onto his arm for some support. Small blue flames start blackening her jacket sleeve. “Let me just take your jacket for you, Mei,” Sandy says, quickly, but carefully, pulling it off her shoulders in a practiced motion and flinging it to the side.

“Mei!” MK exclaims, rushing over to her and giving her a big hug. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a bit dizzy,” she says with slightly unfocused eyes. “I think I breathed in too much smoke.” She winces and holds her head.

MK looks over her, worriedly, and then a flicker of light catches his eye.

“Sandy! You’re on fire!” Pigsy exclaims.

“Well, I do think that was an exciting last-minute save, thank you!” Sandy says cheerily.

At everyone’s pause he looks to his shoulder to see a small blue flame burning there. “Oh you mean that!” he says, cheery voice not faltering in the slightest.

“SANDY!” Pigsy yells angrily.

Sandy laughs sheepishly. “Ah hah, I must’ve got singed a bit when rescuing Mei. But don’t worry, we’re here to deal with that problem. MK, you can stop DBK while Tang tries to find a possible cure in that book of his.”

Mr. Tang pushes his glasses up his nose. “Yes, I will research on how to extinguish the True Fire of Samadhi…” he says calmly, before his voice raises into a fearful shriek, “just as it iS COMING RIGHT AT US!”

True to his shout, a blast of fire is headed their way. MK isn’t going to let it get advantage of them this time. He quickly summons his staff. Though he doesn’t know the fire repellant wards that Monkey King does, he can at least deflect the flames with the staff. He twirls the staff catching up the fire with it, and whips it around sending it back the Bull King’s way. DBK absorbs the fire back into his chest and growls angrily.

“MK, go and deal with the Demon Bull King!” Pigsy says. “I’ll keep an eye on these guys while Tang tries to find a solution in that book of his!”

MK nods and rushes to battle the new commander of the flames that took down his mentor.

DBK breathes out a couple of fire blasts, which MK swats out of the way with his staff. He closes in on DBK and swings a third swipe right at his head. DBK catches the attack with one of his horns and flicks it backwards. He swings a punch at MK’s midsection, which MK blocks with his staff. He retaliates with a few quick jabs of his staff, forcing DBK to take some steps back to dodge. The demon stamps one of his hooves to the ground, emitting sparks as if they were a flint hitting stone, causing fire to flare around him. MK is forced to do an impromptu jig to dodge the sparks. Doing so leaves an opening for DBK to thrust his head forward in an attempt to gouge him with his horns.

MK hears his shirt tear and feels a sharp point slash across his skin. He squints his eyes shut at the pain that is sure to come, but before he can even think, DBK has thrown another punch his way, ramming into his chest and flinging him across the battlefield.

Wind whips past his ears and he feels his body hit a wall, debris scattering about him. Dust surrounds him and obscures his vision. He hears a ringing in his ears and the shouting of his friends’ worried voices, calling his name. His feet land on the ground and he stumbles a few steps forward, but does not fall. There is surprisingly little pain. The dust clears and he blinks his eyes, looking down at himself. He is… fine…? His shirt is torn, and there is a clear indication that he was thrown several yards, what with a furrow in the ground and a crater in the wall behind him. But there are no apparent injuries on him. He remembers to breathe and huffs out a surprised cough.

“..What?” he asks to no one.

He looks up and everyone, including DBK, looks just as confused as MK feels. Except for the Monkey King. Who he can see looking at him, with half lidded eyes and a contented smile. He recalls the moment back at Flower Fruit Mountain, when Monkey King sent him away. That hit to the chest!

“Monkey King...” he breathes. “You-- you undid the seal on my powers!?” he yells.

His mentor smiles wide enough that his eyes squint shut.

“So, you’re invincible again?!” Mei says excitedly.

“Yeah!” MK can’t help but mirror his friend’s smile as he pulls at the tear in his shirt. “I guess so!”

An angry snarl comes from DBK’s direction as does a stream of blue fire.

MK yelps and leaps out of the way. “Well… invincible except for the fire!” He runs away from the trail of fire following him, dodging around in a serpentine motion. He shouts over to where Pigsy and Mr. Tang are hovering by the Monkey King. “Mr.Tang! You got a solution to the fire problem yet?!”

Mr. Tang’s expression belies boredom, but his jaw is tight and his speech is sharp and hurried. He flips through his book and responds, “According to my research, the Samadhi Fire can only be sent away by the creator of the fire, held at bay by a fire repellent ward, or extinguished by a drop of sweet dew from the Bodhisattva Guanyin's vase.” He readjusts his glasses as a bead of sweat drips down his temple. “And unfortunately,” he gestures at DBK, “the creator of the fire doesn’t seem to be in the mood to stop shooting fire at us…” He gestures at the Monkey King, “...the only one who knows fire repellent wards is having trouble breathing, much less is able to form seals…” MK grimaces at this remark, but listens to Mr. Tang as he continues. “...And I don’t think we have any Bodhisattva’s present and willing to provide us with a drop of dew.”

That’s not good. The Monkey King’s state is getting worse and worse. The fire has already gotten on Sandy, and despite the big guy’s grin, he can tell the spreading burn is weighing on him. What can MK do? Keep fighting the Demon Bull King, and wait until each of his friends, including himself, accidentally catch on fire? He’s not sure he can dodge DBK forever, and even if he tires him out or defeats him, that’s not going to put the fire out. The flames from their battle are even beginning to overtake the surrounding area. Even if stopping DBK stops the flames, he’s not sure if he’d be able to do it in time to prevent more destruction or to save Monkey King!

He dodges another blast of fire. He squints his eyes shut in frustration. What can he do?!

Upon opening his eyes, everything is golden. True sight! He looks around and everything appears as if in slow-motion. Or rather, it’s all going at normal speeds, but it’s like he can see how everything moves and every single detail. He sees the flames curl around him, and which fiery hoops to dodge through. He can see the flames flare at DBK’s center and the pained squint around his eyes as if even the Demon Bull King is at the fire’s mercy. He can see Princess Iron Fan’s attempts to put out the fire only causing it to spread more, and Red Son’s still body. He can see Mei look between them all worriedly and how that causes her to become even dizzier. He hopes she didn’t get a concussion. He can see the corner of Sandy’s eyes squint in pain despite his smile, and Pigsy’s spittle as he yells at Mr. Tang to hurry up. He can see the cool expression on the scholar start to break as he flips through his book. He can see an illustration in the book of a drop of dew being poured from a heavenly looking vase. Somehow he sees the dew drip down the page and onto the ground. Except that the ground suddenly becomes an ocean, as if an entire body of water was held within that one drop of heavenly dew, and he is completely enveloped in its vastness.

He blinks. The ocean is gone and the golden view is receding. But before it leaves completely it focuses on the Monkey King. The fire has crept up to his chest and shoulder. He is no longer breathing. As if the flames have claimed the air in his lungs.

MK has no more time.

He thinks of the ocean.

He knows what he must do.

MK leaps through another twist of flame, but instead of landing he thrusts his staff to the ground, and extends it to hurl himself high up into the air. He looks out, across the city, to the bay and finds what he is looking for.

“Picking up an entire ocean can’t be too much harder than picking up a mountain. Right?” he jokes in an attempt to alleviate his worries. It doesn’t really.

He hopes this works. It will work. It has to work!

He enlarges the staff further and extends it over to the waters. He’s in the air, but does what his mentor taught him as best he can. “Step into the strike.”

He swings the now gigantic staff, thrusting the end into the ocean, and putting his entire body into the motion. He strains his muscles, and even for an invincible and powerful being, this is hard. Slowly, but surely, the staff moves. And the ocean with it. The force of the strike pulls the ocean right out of the bay, out of the earth, and a near infinite wall of water seizes up behind him.

MK swoops the staff around, and brings it, and the entire ocean crashing down. He doesn’t do so carelessly, no. He wills the waters to drench the area, the buildings, his friends with a strong enough flow to extinguish the flames, but not to harm. But as for the demons who caused this mess, he lets the full weight of the water slam into them. Angrily. Mercilessly.

Like the torrents currently surrounding him, anger and hatred swirl around MK. He pushes the water down onto his enemies. He forces the water to seep into the tech on DBK’s chest, making sure that he extinguishes every last bit of that blue fire. He throws it down on Red Son and Princess Iron Fan, as well. They all deserve this, right? They tricked him! They used him to bring them to the Monkey King. They hurt him! They hurt his friends! They tried to kill his friends! They almost killed his mentor! Had they killed his mentor? Is he still alive? Is this even helping?

He looks to his friends. The fire had gone out. But his friends look distressed. He sees Mei strain to look up at him through the streaming waters whipping around her. She looks shocked and worried. MK notices his face is scrunched up and his brows are furrowed harshly. What must he look like right now?

He looks over to his enemies, the water is pushing them back, threatening to force them into the bay and be lost at sea once the waters return there. Red Son started this, but he had been out the entire fight, injured and unable to defend himself. DBK had attacked, but was obviously overcome with the power. And Princess Iron Fan hadn’t even lifted a finger to him or his friends here. What’s the point of hurting them further?

MK looks at the Monkey King. The way the water flows around him, MK could pretend that it is as if his mentor is moving. But he’s not. MK knows he’s not. He had stopped the fire. Isn’t that enough?

He hopes it is enough, because if it isn’t, he doesn’t know what he’d do. He just wants his friends to be safe. He just wants his mentor to wake up and keep teaching him. He shouldn’t have this much power right now. Not yet. He can’t handle it yet. He needs his teacher.

And like the weight of the ocean, the weight of his emotions come crashing down. A sob bubbles out of his throat and he bursts into tears. The wave of water he’s controlling suddenly breaks apart, expanding over the area and covering it in a torrential downpour of salty rain.

MK floats down to the ground and stands there listlessly as equally salty tears slide down his face. He wobbles and is caught by the sudden embrace of his best friend. Mei holds him close, and MK sinks into the hug. His legs give out underneath him, and she follows him gently to the ground, kneeling beside him. He buries his face just below her shoulder and cries heavily into her shirt. She holds him tightly as if helping to hold back the sobs that are racking his body. The rain pouring around them forms white noise in MK’s ears, and he is reminded of the comfort she gave him before. Despite this he can just barely hear her calming whispers reach him, and he holds on tighter still.

Much larger arms surround them both. It’s Sandy. MK can tell from the tint of blue at the corner of his vision and the scent of tea and baked goods that seem to surround the large man. Sandy picks them both up and holds them protectively. The love and comfort he feels from his friends is enough to help him quiet his crying. He tries to dry his tears, but with the rain drenching everything, the act is useless. Still he looks up at them with grateful, watery eyes, and says, “Thanks guys.”

“Of course, MK,” Mei says like she helped him beat a level in a video game and not like her support means the world to him.

“You did it, MK!” Sandy says jovially!

MK winces a bit at his booming voice, but gives a slight smile. It fades immediately at the thought of his mentor. “The Monkey King! Is he all right?!”

The two of them look over in that direction. Pigsy and Mr. Tang are on either side of the Monkey King. Mr. Tang looks like he is making jabbing motions with his fingers at the Monkey King while Pigsy is flailing his arms wildly and yelling.

“What do ya think you’re doing?!” MK can hear Pigsy yell as Sandy brings him and Mei closer.

“I’m trying to hit his chakra points to help him start breathing again!” Mr. Tang exclaims, all attempts at remaining calm completely lost.

“Can ya even do that?!” Pigsy says, trying to sound sarcastic, but the rising tone of his voice gives away his panic.

“I’m following the book’s instructions!”

“Well do it better!”

“I’m trying!”

“Listen ta me, Tang! That’s not even tha way to do it! Ta make someone breathe again, ya just gotta slap ‘em like this!” Pigsy exclaims winding up an arm.

Mr. Tang flails his own arms and says, “Pigsy, I don’t think you should act rashly and--”

But it’s no good as Pigsy lands a couple of harsh blows to the Monkey King’s back. Everyone else flinches slightly and lets out variations of yelps and “No’s”, but they’re all surprised when a wheezing cough comes out of the Monkey King’s mouth.

“Monkey King!” MK exclaims and scrambles out of Sandy and Mei’s grip to sit next to his mentor.

The Monkey King makes a few more dry coughs and pants heavily. With obvious effort, he opens his eyes and looks up at his student. A wobbly smile spreads on MK’s face and once again tears threaten to spill over. “You’re okay!”

The Monkey King smiles as well and takes a few more steadying breaths before attempting to speak. “Thanks to you, kid! Good hero work!”

MK’s smile wobbles back into a frown and he leans over and hugs the Monkey King, careful to avoid any overly singed fur. He buries his face in his fur and shudders with no help from the cold rain.

“I’m okay, kid. I’m okay!” the Monkey King reassures his shivering student. He doesn’t move, but the shallow, yet now steady, breathing and the whispers of reassurance let MK know that he was right, and everything would be okay.

After a moment of calm silence, Pigsy speaks up. “Well, we better get ‘im someplace where we can take care of his wounds. Let’s head back to the noodle shop, I got some first aid kits in there.”

“Do you even know how to take care of an immortal?” Mr. Tang says.

“Hey, I helped revive him, didn’t I? I'll figure it out when we get there! Sandy, your arm good enough to carry him? I can patch you up as well!”

“I should be good enough to get to the noodle shop,” Sandy says.

MK allows Sandy to pick up the Monkey King, who seems to be slipping in and out of consciousness now, but still breathing steadily.

MK allows himself one last look at the now empty battlefield.

“The DBK family is gone…” Mei says as if to echo his very thoughts.

“Maybe they got taken away by the water…?” Sandy says, looking out to the direction of the sea.

“Ah good riddance, is what I say!” says Pigsy with a wave of his hand. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

With one last look out to sea, MK turns around and hurries to keep pace with Sandy, and keeps an eye on the steady rise and fall of The Monkey King's chest the whole way home.

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